THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY Prom the collection of James Callins, Drumcondra , Ireland. Purchased, 1918. 920.041 H84s Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/details/scotsworthieswitOOhowi 5 SCOTS WORTHIES ORIGINALLY COMPILED BY JOHN HOWIE, OF LOCHGOIN; WITH THE TESTIMONIES APPENDED TO EACH LIFE. REVISED AND CORRECTED BY JAMES HOWIE, A.M. AN HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION, BY THE REV. ROBERT BUCHANAN, D.D., GLASGOW. GLASGOW: MACGREGOR, POLSON, & COMPANY, 75, ARGYLL STREET. MDCCCXLIV. GLASGOW : EDWARD KHULL, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY. ju h i pi moil H X4 s c5. ■ CONTENTS. Life of John Howie, Introductory Essay, by the Rev. Buchanan, John Howie’s Preface, Introduction, Dr Memoirs. xm 1 15 James Mitchell, . ' . His Testimony, Alexander Henderson, George Gillespie, . His Testimony, . John M‘Clelland, . His Testimony, . David Calderwood, Hugh Binning, . Andrew Gray, His Testimony, Patrick Hamilton, . . 24 James Durham, .... 373 His Testimony, . . 31 Samuel Rutherford, . . 378 George Wishart, 33 His Testimony, 386 His Testimony, . . 53 Archibald Campbell, Marquis of Argyle, . 389 Adam Wallace, 58 His Testimony, 395 His Testimony, . . 68 James Guthrie, .... . 397 Walter Mill, . 70 His Testimony, 402 His Testimony, . . 74 William Govan, .... . 405 James Stuart, Earl of Moray, . 76 His Testimony, 406 John Knox, . 104 John Campbell, Earl of Loudon, . 407 His Testimony, 180 Robert Baillie, .... 413 George Buchanan, . 186 David Dickson, .... . 415 John Erskine of Dun, 202 Sir Archibald Johnston, Lord Warriston, 419 Robert Pollock, . 214 His Testimony, . . 424 His Testimony, 216 James Wood, .... 426 John Craig, . 221 His Testimony, . . 428 David Black, 224 William Guthrie, .... 429 1 1 John Davidson, . . 227 Robert Blair, .... . 437 j Andrew Melville, . 233 Hugh M^Kail, .... 445 ! William Row, . 268 His Testimony, . 452 ! Patrick Simpson, . 271 John Nevay, .... 456 Andrew Duncan, . 277 John Livingstone, . 458 His Testimony, 279 John Semple, .... 464 John Scrimgeour, . 281 James Mitchell, . 467 John Welch, . 283 His Testimony, 474 His Testimony, . . 297 Colonel James Wallace, . 477 Robert Boyd, 301 John Welwood, .... 483 Robert Bruce, . . 311 William Gordon of Earlstoun, . 487 His Testimony, 319 John King and John Kid, 489; Josias Welch, . 319 Testimony of John Kid, . 491 1 John Gordon, Viscount Kenmure, . 321 Testimony of John King, 495 1 Robert Cunningham, . . . 332 John Brown, .... • . 498 His Testimony, . . . 333 His Testimony, 502 PAOB 334 335 338 353 355 356 359 360 363 369 371 ~r$sr: ■ yv / o iv j CONTENTS. Henry Hall of Haugh-head, PAGE 508 IV. — Abstract of the Speech of PAGE Richard Cameron, . 510 Lord Warriston, before the David Hackston of Rathillet, 516 Westminster Assembly, after His Testimony, 519 the delivery of some Queries Robert Ker of Kersland, 525 from the Parliament, 699 Donald Cargill, . 527 V. — Mr Guthrie’s Speech in Parlia- His Testimony, . 536 ment, immediately after the Walter Smith, . 537 reading of his process, April His Testimony, . 539 11, 1661, .... 700 Robert Garnock, 542 VI. — Account of the Rising which His Testimony, . 551 ended in the defeat at Pent- Robert MacWard, . . 553 land, anno 1666, . / . 701 | Captain John Paton, . 559 VII. — Account of the Rising which His Testimony, 568 originated the Battle of Drum- 1 Robert Bailie of Jervis wood, 571 clog, and ended in the defeat at Bothwell Bridge, anno John Brown of Priesthill, 575 John Nisbet of Hardhill, 582 1679, . . . 702 His Testimony, 589 VIII.— The Declaration and Testi- Alexander Peden, 599 mony of some of the True John Blackadder, . 607 Presbyterian Party in Scot- James Renwick, . 612 land, published at Rutherglen, His Testimony, 627 May 29, 1679, . 710 Supplement, .... 631 IX. — Account of the Skirmish at Airsmoss, 1680, . X. — Declaration, published at Glas- 710 Alexander Moncrieff, 632 gow, June 13, 1679, XI. — Queensferry Paper, June 4, 711 Angus Macbean, 634 1680, 711 Thomas Hog, .... 635 XII. — Sanquhar Declaration, June Robert Fleming, 639 22, 1680, .... 714 Alexander Shields, 642 XIH. — Declaration published at Lan- John Dickson, .... 645 ark, January 12, 1682, 715 His Testimony, 647 XIV. — Acts of Parliament, . 716 Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston, . 649 XV. — Statutes of the Church regard- His Testimony, 652 ing Patronage and the Settle- William Veitch, 653 ment of Ministers, . 723 John Balfour of Kinloch, 658 XVI. — The Protest, 725 Andrew Simpson, 659 XVH. — Her Majesty’s Letter to the William Scott, .... . 659 General Assembly, 727 XVIII. — Act of Separation and Deed of Appendix. . 661 Demission, XIX. — Abridged Proceedings of the 727 No. I. — Protestation offered to the Estates convened in Parlia- ment at Perth, anno 1606, 661 First Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland, convened at Edinburgh, . 731 II. — The Five Articles of Perth, . 662 XX. — Abridged Proceedings of the HI. — Report of Proceedings of the General Assembly at Glasgow, 1638, . . . . 1 i 1 . . . _ 663 Second General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland, held at Glasgow, 740 LIST OF STEEL AND WOOD-ENGRAVINGS. 1. Druidical Worship, . . . .15 2. Church of Sodor, in Icolmkill, . . 16 3. Cathedral of St Andrews, ... 26 4. George Wishart, . . to face page 33 5. East Port and Wishart Church, Dundee, 38 6. Wightman’s attempt to assassinate Wish- art, 39 7. Burning of Wishart at St Andrews, . 56 8. A Martyr before the Inquisition, . . 61 9. Abbey of Dunfermline, ... 72 10. James Stuart, Earl of Murray, Regent of Scotland, . . . to face page 76 11. Edinburgh from the East in 1560, . 85 12. Queen Mary’s Escape from Lochleven, 2d May, 1508, .... 93 13. Assassination of the Earl of Moray, 23d January, 1570, .... 101 14. John Knox, . . . to face page 104 15. Knox throwing the Image overboard, . 109 16. Stirling from the East, . . . 137 17. Knox’s Pulpit, 144 18. Murder of David Rizzio in Holyrood House, March 9, 1566, . . 169 19. Knox returning from Church after hav- ing preached his last Sermon,. 9th November, 1572, . . . .179 20. Monument erected to the memory of Knox, in the Glasgow Necropolis, 1825, 185 21. George Buchanan, . to face page 186 22. Crossraguel Abbey, .... 194 23. The Town of Montrose, . . . 211 24. Jenny Geddes’ Stool, . . . 216 25. Craig and the Dog, .... 222 26. Edinburgh Castle, .... 231 27. The Town of Perth, . . . .242 28. Holyrood House, .... 254 29. Dunblane Cathedral, . . . . 278 30. The Town of Ayr, .... 289 31. Holyrood Chapel, .... 312 32. View of the Palace of Linlithgow, . 314 33. Alexander Henderson, . to face page 338 34. Grayfriars’ Church, Edinburgh, . . 341 35. View of Leith, .... 348 36. Henderson’s Monument in Grayfriars’ Churchyard, Edinburgh, . . 351 37. Cathedral of Dunkeld, .... 357 38. Tolbooth of Edinburgh, . . . 362 39. University of Glasgow, . . . 375 40. Monument to the memory of Rutherford, near Gatehouse, .... 386 41. Archibald Campbell, Marquis of Argyle, to face page 389 42. The Maiden, 395 43. James Guthrie, . . to face page 397 44. Nether-Bow Port, Edinburgh, . 401 45. Battle of Dunbar, September, 1650, . 431 46. Greenwich Park, . . . . 439 47. The Boot, 448 48. The Town of Dundee, . . . 461 49. The Bass Rock, 471 50. Old Scottish Church, Rotterdam, . 479 51. Dispensing the Lord’s Supper in the Fields, 511 52. Glasgow Tolbooth, . . . . 526 53. Glasgow from the South, . . . 533 54. Rev. Robert Macward, M. A., to face page 553 55. National Scottish Church, Rotterdam, 558 56. Paton’s Sword, 562 57. Lochgoin — the Birthplace of John Howie, 563 58. The Rye-house, 571 59. The Thumbkins, .... 572 60. The Covenanter’s Marriage, . . .577 61. Death of John Brown, . . . 581 62. Covenanters Dispensing the Ordinance of Baptism, 599 63. A Conventicle, or Field-preaching, . 644 64. Battle of Drumclog, . to face page 703 65. Battle of Both well Bridge, to face page 706 66. View of Canonmills Hall — Ministers Sign- ing Deed of Demission, . . 730 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. Before entering upon the following brief Memoir of one who has contributed more to the biogra- phical information of the Scottish peasantry than authors of greater celebrity, it may not be uninter- esting to delineate the site of his humble dwelling- place, which was so often the rendezvous and re- treat of the persecuted Covenanters, at the time when they were hunted like beasts of prey, from hill to hill, and when it often became necessary for them to take refuge in dens and caves of the earth. Lochgoin, (see engraving p. 563,) although only an humble cottage, and possessing perhaps more of the appearance of the “ olden time” than many of the same grade at the present day, has yet attrac- tions more omnipotent over the associations of every Scottish Presbyterian, than the turreted re- mains of the baronial castle, whose most strenuous defender had bled and died for his country’s civil rights. This lonely secluded spot is situated in the parish of Fenwick, in the county of Ayr, about two miles from the King’s-wells Inn, on the road from Glasgow to Kilmarnock; distant from the former fifteen miles, and about two from the latter. There is not in Scotland, perhaps, a situation more dreary and sequestered, with the exception of King’s-house, near the mountains of Glencoe; yet, though in itself retired and uninviting, it looks out upon scenery as picturesque, sublime, and romantic, as is to be met with among the rugged mountains of Switzerland. From an artificial eminence about a hundred yards from the cottage, which was raised for the purpose of watching the movements of the king’s troops in the time of the persecution, and to give no- tice of their approach, the prospect is indescribably grand and extensive. Towards the north, the eye rests upon the lofty mountains in Argyleshire ; and in the same direction, Benlomond is beautifully conspicuous. The Kilbirnie range, nearer and more lowly, limit the view towards the west. Goatfell, in the isle of Arran; the Pap of Jura; and Ailsa Crag, although removed to a much greater dis- tance, are distinctly visible. On the south, the prospect is terminated by the blue hills of Carrick, and the far distant range in Galloway; and, upon ascending a heathy eminence about a mile distant, Tinto, the remote Pentlands, and even Arthur’s Seat, meet the eye as it moves along towards the east. Onward, the verdant Ochils beyond Stirling, and the less lofty, though not less beauti- ] ful, hiUs of Campsie complete the circumference. Within this vast barrier, the whole seems but one misty waste of moor, where scarcely any human habi- ; tation is visible, save the shepherd’s cot ; and where ! no sound is to be heard but the voice of the shep- i herd himself directing his faithful dog ; the bleating ! of the sheep ; and the cry of the feathered foreign- ers that have fled for a time from the regions of a more inclement sky, until winter once more com- ; pels them to seek the shelter of a milder climate. In winter, the scene is bleak beyond description; [ and terrible, when the uncontrolled winds sweep along the trackless expanse in fitful fury. The only exception to the general dreariness of the scene is a portion of the fertile lands of Ayrshire, conti- guous to the firth of Clyde, apparently slumbering like a peaceful lake at the base of the lofty Arran. Distant only a few miles is Loudonhill, near the battle-field of Drumclog ; and almost at its base, a cairn of stones, commemorative of the spot where the Covenanters worshipped on the morning of the conflict. A few miles further off is Airsmoss, from whose bleak and lonely bosom rises Cameron’s monumental stone ; and a mile or rather more dis- tant stands Priesthill, the hallowed house of John Brown, the Christian Carrier, and the scene of his infamous murder by the bloody Claverhouse. Not so remote stands Loudon house, the residence j viii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. of the Campbells, marked out by the tops of the many woods in which it is unbosomed; and just beyond the environs is Hardhill, where Nisbet lived. Meadowhead, the ancient residence of Captain Paton, and other farm-houses, occupy a more culti- vated locality in the same parish. To this day the repetition of the troublous times in which those devoted martyrs lived, forms the subject of many a winter evening’s conversation ; and the church of Fenwick, where the pious Guthrie so successfully dispensed the word of life, is still pointed to as a relique dear to the descendants of the Covenanters. Such is an imperfect outline of Lochgoin, the resi- dence of the Howies. The Howies appear to have been originally of French extraction, — such at least is the tradition of the family, and we have no reason to question its accuracy. The severities to which the Wal- denses were subjected, during the twelfth century, compelled many of that body to leave their native country and seek refuge in distant lands. It was during that period that three brothers, surnamed Howie, took up their residence in the west of Scot- land ; one in the parish of Mearns ; another in the parish of Craigie; while the third chose for his place of abode the sequestered Lochgoin, which, after the lapse of more than six hundred years, his descendants still occupy. And the tradition re- ceives farther confirmation from the fact, that this is almost the only part of Scotland where persons bearing this name are to be met with. About the period of the Reformation, we find their posterity adhering boldly to the cause of Pro- testantism, a circumstance which renders it highly probable that, notwithstanding the proselytizing spirit of the age in which they lived, the humble occupants of Lochgoin had never swprved from the faith of their fathers. It was not, however, till the period of the second Reformation, that the Howies were brought into prominent notice, by becoming sufferers for the truth. Nor were these sufferings of a trivial nature. Lochgoin, as the reader has already seen, being peculiarly favourable for con- cealment, had often afforded an asylum to the harassed Covenanters when flying from their ruth- less persecutors ; and thus the inmates themselves became also the objects of the most rigorous op- pression. Not only were they twelve different times subjected to confiscation of property; but, upon one occasion, their cattle were driven to the market-cross of Kilmarnock and exposed for sale ; the Howies themselves were declared rebels to , the government ; their names were inserted in the fugitives’ roll ; and they, with hundreds more, were compelled to betake themselves for concealment to the mountains and moors. John Howie, the subject of this memoir, who has given so much additional celebrity to the family, ! was born at Lochgoin on the 14th November, 1735. | His father, John Howie also, dying suddenly when j our biographer was only about a year old, the i child was removed to Blackball, a farm in the parish j of Kilmarnock, at that time the residence of his j maternal grandparents, who took upon themselves j | the charge of his education. Being pious and j intelligent, the advantages which the youth derived, both from their tuition and example, were invalua- ble. Indeed his future life bespoke the correctness of his early tuition ; having been alike free from severity on the one hand, and from over indulgence on the other. In addition to the instructions he received from his grandfather, he was put to two country schools in the neighbourhood ; the one at Whirlhall, taught by an uncle of the family name ; and the other at Horsehill, conducted by a person of the name of Adam Millar. If the reader — keeping- in mind that J ohn Howie possessed hardly an ordi- nary education, and that his youthful years were devoted chiefly to the customary sports and recrea- tions of the neighbourhood where he had been brought up — contrast the advances in religious knowledge and information which, by his own un- aided exertions, he made in his youth, and at a subsequent period of his life, with the usual amount of intelligence generally to be found among people of his station in life, he cannot fail to be regarded as a person of unwonted talent. The first important event in the life of this re- markable man was his connubial union with a person of the name of Lindsay, who, however, did not long survive the nuptials; for, falling into con- sumption, she died soon after, leaving behind her an infant son. In 1766, about four years after that distressing event, he entered a second time into the matrimonial state ; the object of his attachment at this time being a cousin of his own. She is repre- sented as having been singularly eminent for piety, and in every respect a helpmate suited to his taste and habits. The fruits of this union were five sons and three daughters. According to his own account, it was not till after the second marriage that his early religious impressions assumed the form of decided piety. About a year after his first marriage he entered to the farm of Lochgoin, which, from the nature of the soil not admitting of extensive manual cultivation, left him sufficient leisure to prosecute the studies to which he had habituated himself from his youth ; viz. church history, and religious biogra- phy. No sooner, therefore, had he settled down to a systematic mode of study, than it seems to have occurred to him that he might turn to good ac- BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. count the information he had obtained of the life and sufferings of some of those eminent Worthies, whom he had been taught from his earliest years to revere and admire. The account which he gives of the method he took to collect materials for the Work is at once so simple and graphic that we shall present it to the reader in his own words. The chief obstacle which he appears to have had to encounter arose from the opposition of his own pious wife. “ I took up a resolution to collect what materials I could obtain, and write a kind of Lives of a num- ber of them, which I did at leisure hours, with small views that even anything I could do should merit the publishing of them. However my mo- tives were ingenuous, out of love to them and their contendings, or cause they contended for, and the Lord determined that they both should be publish- ed, and happily they were much esteemed by men of all ranks and denominations. While I was writing the first draught of the Scots Worthies, sometimes in the morning, one morning my wife, who was not without an inclination to religion, be- ing in bed in the little closet where I was writing, was going to give me a reproof for my folly in writing; what would I do but make people laugh | at my folly! Immediately these words came into ■ her mind, Mark vii. 37 ; ‘ He hath done all things | well ; he maketh the deaf to hear and the dumb to ! speak;’ after which she durst never again speak ! against L.” I ” I Though, however, no other person appears to have had the courage to undertake the subject, we believe that John Howie, while employed at his literary labours, was the subject of considerable I animadversion among many of his neighbours, j who were but ill able to appreciate the worth of ] his intellectual pursuits. As might have been ex- | pected, he was accused of indolence; inasmuch as, while engaged in what appeared to them a pro- ! fitless concern, he was neglecting his worldly inter- I ests, by not attending more assiduously to the cul- tivation of his farm. It was particularly observed j during the hay season, that though the good man j would at intervals lay aside his books, step out to the J field, and for a short time put on an air of extreme bustle and activity, yet it was soon over; so that among the more eident* of his professional brethren he never acquired a character for steady and en- i during labour. To a certain extent these observa- i tions might be perhaps true ; but when we consider the immense service he was at that very time ren- dering to the church, to the cause of presbytery, j and to posterity, we cannot join in the cry of cen- * Diligent. ix sure; but must repel their conclusions as short- sighted. Had the complainers but taken the trouble to inquire, they might have ascribed the somewhat irregular movements of the worthy bio- grapher to a different cause. It was well known that Mr Howie, who died at a comparatively I early age, was never a man of robust constitution. Symptoms of physical debility began to show them- selves in his boyhood; and that very disease which brought him prematurely to his grave, had even then marked him out as its easy victim ! In perus- ing his diary we find frequent allusions to a variety of ailments with which he was often afflicted; and on examining the parlour or spence , with its damp floor and walls, we do not hesitate to say that the maladies of which he complained must have been greatly aggravated, by the atmosphere in which his studies were prosecuted. Another circumstance which must have contributed to prevent Mr Howie from exhibiting the usual steady industry of moor- land farmers was, the number of visitors who came j to wait upon him at Lochgoin. These, attracted | by the fame of his literary pursuits, were exceed- ! ingly numerous, and composed of all classes in the j religious world. Since we have gone thus far, however, in endea- vouring to account for his general character as a j farmer, it would be unfair not to state distinctly, that j he evinced great anxiety for the temporal welfare j of his numerous family. So far, indeed, was he i from being indifferent to worldly matters, that, | upon perusing his diary, we find him repeatedly ! accusing himself of carrying the principle of paren- | tal anxiety to a length bordering on criminality. The life of a moorland farmer, even although | combined with that of literary pursuits, cannot be supposed to furnish any great variety of adventure or incident ; still such a life is not without its in- terest. The circumstance of Mr Howie rising soon after cock- crowing, for the purpose of engaging in severe and not very inviting study before commen- cing the labour of the day, is worthy of admiration ; and then, with his mind full of his subject, after having added a few more pages to the Work which has stamped his name with renown ; after having- partaken of his homely meal, sallying forth, per- haps barefooted, into the wide and trackless moor, to ascertain if all was well with his flocks; or, it might be, to engage in the severer exercise of the spade, is what farmers of the present day are alto- gether strangers to. Nor were such labours merely occasional and temporary ; for, if we consider the variety and extent of his writings, commencing about the time of his second marriage, we shall find that they must have continued, with but little x BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. “ Scots Worthies” itself is a work of no inconsider- able labour ; for, though the biographical informa- tion he had procured, and with which his powerful memory was richly stored, must have greatly fa- cilitated the task ; yet, living remote from cities, and almost shut out from the abodes of civilized life, the difficulty of correspondence, and the want of books, must have tended not a little to render his task both painful and irksome. Under all these dis- advantages, however, did Mr Howie, in the seclu- sion of Lochgoin, bring the work to a successful termination. The first edition appeared in 1774 ; and a second, greatly enlarged, in 1785. Like the “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” it has been long so extensive- ly popular with all classes of the community, that it has secured for itself a position from which it will never be dislodged, so long as Presbyterianism, and a religious attachment to the covenanted work of Reformation, continue „to engage the attention of the natives of Scotland. It has been long a family piece, both in town and country; but especially among our Scottish peasantry. In youth we are rivetted to it, as if by fascination ; and in our riper years we look back upon the impressions then produced, and wonder whether they may have been created by the realities of truth. Besides the “ Scots Worthies,” Mr Howie pro- duced a number of other works, which, though not so generally known, are still not without a tolerable share of merit. These were, first, a collection of “ Lectures and Sermons” by some of the most eminent ministers, preached during the stormiest days of the Persecution, — a work, the MSS. of which he had not only to transcribe for the Press, but which, at great labour and expense, he had even to collect from various quarters. This work is introduced by a preface of his own composition. His second work was, “ An Alarm to a Secure Generation ;” a small tract characterized by good ! taste, and written in a bold and forcible style, though in a garb that would be considered too homely for the taste of the present day. The third production was “Faithful Contendings Dis- played;” being an account of the suffering rem- nant of the Church of Scotland, from 1681 till | 1691. This was neither more nor less than a transcription from a record kept by a person of the name of Michael Shields, clerk to the So- cieties, to which Mr Howie prefixed a preface, and added an appendix with notes. His fourth Essay was “ Faithful Witness-bearing Exemplified;” con- j sisting of the following divisions: — 1. Useful Cases j of Conscience. 2. A Testimony against Toleration by the Commission of the General Assembly. 3. A History of the Indulgence. The fifth was || “Patronage Anatomized,” a work which, next to the Scots Worthies, must be regarded as superior to all his other writings. The sixth was “ A Vindi- cation of the mode of handling the Elements in the Lord’s Supper before giving thanks,” written at the . time when the controversy took place on this sub- ject among the Antiburgher Seceders. The seventh was “ Clarkson’s Plain Reasons for Dissenting,” with a preface and notes, and an abstract of the Principles of the Reformed Presbytery, regarding Civil Government. His eighth, — and the last pro- duction of his pen, — was, “A Preface to Mr Brown of Wamphray’s Looking-glass of the Law and the Gospel.” But it was not through the medium of his writings alone that Mr Howie sought to benefit his countrymen. He availed himself of the extensive circle which his writings had formed for him to in- struct all who had a desire for religious knowledge i To young men, especially, he was particularly at- j tentive. An individual, still alive, lately informed j the writer, that in his youth he made one of a party who waited upon our biographer for instruction ; j and was deeply impressed with Mr Howie’s ex- j tremely judicious method of conveying religious ; information to the young. He usually commenced with some simple or even humorous subject, which j had always the effect of banishing that restraint i from the mind of his auditors which the eclat of i his piety and talent naturally tended to produce. ; Having accomplished this, he immediately availed himself of the opportunity to communicate infor- mation of the most solid, pious, and edifying nature. From a choice library, too, of several i hundred volumes, he gave them liberty to select whatever book they chose. “ On such occasions,” i states our informant, “ so eager was he to do good, that, not content with conversing freely within doors, he would accompany us miles across the moor, urging home upon our minds, amidst j j all our other assiduities, the importance of atten- j tion to personal piety, the one thing needful.” i He was ever ready to comply with the request of j such as wished for his religious advice or prayers for themselves or their sick friends. Although j this was frequently attended with much incon- j venience and fatigue — having to travel several miles before he could reach the abode of any of his | neighbours, either in the parish of Eaglesham or that of Mearns — yet he never complained. One night of every week was regularly set apart for 1 j meeting with some of his pious neighbours, for the j purpose of religious fellowship and social prayer ; a | practice which we feel happy to say, of late years has been greatly revived in all parts of Scotland. Although Mr Howie was thus devoted to books, and lived “ far retired from men,” the reader will j BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OP JOHN HOWIE. xi 1 form a very false idea, if he suppose him to have spent the life of a recluse. On the contrary, at all the surrounding fairs and markets, John Howie was to be found bustling and bargaining with the men of the world. He was indeed a marked char- acter, whether at home, in the public market, or at church; and wherever he went, the fame of his piety and varied acquirements contributed greatly to facilitate his moral influence. Nor did his per- sonal appearance belie the impression which his works produced; for, though but of low stature, his form was dignified, and erect. Even his gait seemed to imply an inward consciousness of mental superiority over those of his less literary acquain- tances ; nevertheless, he was a paragon of humility ; pride having no seat in his breast. He was re- markably attentive to neatness in dress, and seldom walked abroad without his silver-mounted staff. Wherever he went he was received with respect ; and his approach to either kirk or market was made known by the circulating whisper, — “There’s Lochgoin ! ” Were we to characterize Mr Howie’s personal piety in a single sentence, we would say, that it was distinguished at once by its humility and its fervour ; the latter sometimes producing an excite- ment bordering on enthusiasm ; the former, not un- frequently generating a feeling analogous to de- spondency. An attentive perusal of his diary evinces the extreme jealousy with which he was wont to scrutinize his heart, after secret prayer, and the deep religious meditation in which he took great delight. Not only did he peruse the Word of God with fervent prayer for the teaching of the Holy Spirit, but marked with distinctive observation its influence upon his future life ; and, when he could trace an increasing love to his God and Saviour, he never failed to ascribe the praise to whom alone it was due. We quote the following brief extract: — “ When I look back upon my short and despica- j ble life, I find it altogether made up of deficiencies, faults, and imperfections ; my disposition was some- what soft ; my bodily constitution weak or tender, which soon broke, so that no apparent probability yet occurs that I shall attain either to an advanced age, or even to the age of some of my immediate progenitors ; but it is a question whether it is the greatest difficulty to live or die well ; to be united to Christ ; to live unto, and die in Him is the sum- mary of all ; a God reconciled in Christ, a complete Saviour. Here we are often in the dark, see and know but in part ; but when once admitted into the higher house we shall see face to face, and know as we are known. Here the believer sees and lives by faith ; but there by open vision, where all the graces must give place to love and wonder. The great volume of God’s creation, word, and provi- dence, must be folded up, and the heavens depart as a scroll ; and then the believer must read in the book of God essential properties only. Here they are freed from the power of sin ; but there is an eternal freedom from the very indwell of it. Here there is only a deliverance from Satan ; but there shall be a freedom from all his temptations. It is only there that by grace we shall be raised to per- j fection. Here affliction is only sanctified to us; | but there will be a deliverance from all trouble, with the sanctified fruits of it for ever. And here He only supports us from the fears of death ; but there he shall set us beyond the reach of death, and we shall die no more , — 1 Because I live ye shall i live also.’ There we shall be admitted into the company of the First-born, that blessed assembly whose glory it has been to have their garments washed in the blood of the Lamb, and continually flourish before Him, — one glance of whose glorious and beautiful face shall make all sighing and sorrow for ever to fly away.” We have already said that, from his earliest years Mr Howie’s constitution was physically weak and delicate. It was not, however, till the spring i of 1791, that his infirmities began seriously to alarm his friends. About that time he had a severe at- tack of rheumatism, which, after traversing almost i every part of his body, finally settled down in his j left knee, and confined him entirely to his apart- ment, suffering frequently the most gnawing and 1 excruciating pains. During summer he removed to Saltcoats, for the double benefit of sea-bathing | and a change of air, but without any good effect ; for, although his bodily suffering from rheumatism ! somewhat abated, a complication of other disorders 1 began to show themselves, to the renewed anxiety and grief of his friends, who now began to look upon his recovery as almost hopeless. During the 1 whole of that trying period he exhibited all that Christian resignation and submission to the divine will, which the consistency of his conduct, during | the whole of his previous life, might have led one to anticipate. His maladies, however, continuing to increase, as a last resource he was, in the month of July, conveyed back to Saltcoats, to try anew j j the efficacy of sea-bathing. But the second ex- j periment had no more salutary effects than the first; and, after remaining two weeks, he returned to his cottage, about the beginning of August, with the impress of death visibly stamped upon his ! countenance. In the month of September, a most affecting circumstance, and one greatly calculated to put his faith and resignation to the test, occurred in the family of the dying man. Smallpox had been xii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. welcome him into the land of bliss : — After prayer, committing ravages in the country round, and the loathsome disease at length invaded his own dwelling. Ill able to sustain his own infirmities, he was doomed to witness his children attacked one by one, until the whole were confined. A sound con- stitution, however, warded off the fatal consequen- ces of the distemper in them all, except his eldest son, John, who fell a victim to the relentless de- stroyer, after fourteen days of severe suffering. On the morning of the young man’s death, which was on a Tuesday, Mrs Howie entered her hus- band’s apartment, in tears, and requested his pres- ence in the chamber of the dying youth, whose spirit was just about to take its. flight to a holier region. The old man was now so weak, that he was for the most part confined to bed ; but when j he heard the unexpected tidings, he raised himself | on his elbow, and for a little seemed to doubt its j veracity. Being soon assured, however, that his | wife’s fears were too well founded, he was pre- | vailed upon to dress himself; and, assisted by his I wife, he tottered to the bed of his beloved son. With grief unutterable, as he gazed upon the young man’s countenance, he saw that the seal of death had been surely impressed upon it; and, fearing that the “ iron” might, sooner than expectation, “ enter into his soul,” he lost no time in engag- ing in deep and fervent prayer. It was a solemn and affecting sight, to behold the aged man, pale | and emaciated, bending over the deathbed of a j son in the bloom of youth, who had given pro- j mise of a vigorous manhood, cut down and taking his departure before him, that he might be ready to he began to touch a tender string, and to inquire into the state of the young man’s soul; if he had any valid hopes of his eternal wellbeing ; and upon what these hopes were founded. The youth was too exhausted to articulate; but the significant motion of his hands, and the darting of an expres- sive ray from his fast dimming eye, gave pleasing indication that all was well. Lochgoin was powerfully affected upon the occa- sion ; for, turning to a friend who was present, he remarked, that this was an event of rare occurrence ; a dying father addressing the language of consola- tion to an expiring son. After having again knelt by the bedside of the young man, and offered up a final prayer for the repose of his soul, he was re- conducted to his own apartment ; the young man having breathed his last. The last effort he made, as an inhabitant of this world, was on the day of his son’s funeral. He not only dressed himself, and conversed with such friends as came to attend the funeral ; but, supported by an individual belonging to the family, he accompanied the procession a short way from the house; when, with striking solemnity, he took leave of the company ; adding, that it would not be long before they would be called to return, and perform for himself the same sad office. And it happened as he had said ; for, in a few days after, upon a Saturday morning about the end of Autumn, he bade adieu to all that was terrestrial, leaving behind him a name and fame that will be long revered by the religious peasantry of Scotland. I HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION SCOTS WORTHIES, EXPLANATORY OF THE GREAT PRINCIPLES FOR WHICH THE WORTHIES SUFFERED AND SHOWING THEIR SUBSTANTIAL IDENTITY WITH THOSE AT PRESENT CONTENDED FOR IN THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND. Such were the terms in which the present Essay was announced, eighteen months ago. The memo- rable events which have since occurred, have im- parted to these terms a meaning and a force that make them independent of any commentary. The principles contended for by the Scots Worthies of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are now seen in the broad light, not of argument but of fact, to be substantially at one with those which the con- fessors of the nineteenth century have imbodied in the Free Church of Scotland. Not only has the title of this Essay been thus amply vindicated ; but the Essay itself may justly be said to have been al- ready written. It has been written, not with ink, but with deeds ; not in the seclusion of a study, but in the face of the world ; not with the feebleness of an individual’s testimony, but with the command- ing power and impressiveness of a church’s and a nation’s voice. That which had been previously a local controversy has now assumed the character of a question for Christendom. The struggles which the simple and affecting narratives of John Howie of Lochgoin had embalmed in the memories of the humble but pious peasantry of Scotland are, to all human appearance, destined ere long to become familiar to the councils of senators and to the cabi- nets of kings. That the Headship and sole supre- macy of the Lord Jesus Christ as King of saints, and King of nations ; and as in both these provin- ces the only Lord of the conscience, have in this country been household words for centuries, is due to the testimonies and the sufferings of the men of a bygone age. The witness borne and the sacri- fices made for the same truths in the month of May, j one thousand eight hundred and forty-three, in the j disruption of the ancient Church Establishment of this kingdom, have given them a prominence, and lent them an impulse, which bid fair, under the blessing, and through means of the over-ruling pro- vidence of God, mightily to accelerate their diffu- sion and acceptance throughout many other lands. Thus it is that “ the memory of the just is blessed,” and that u though dead” they continue to speak to countless generations. Thus it is that the voices which, centuries ago, persecution stifled in dungeons or silenced on the scaffold, awakening, as they have so signally done in our own times, the response of a kindred spirit, may yet lead posterity to trace the public recognition and ultimate prevalence of great truths of vital moment to all the churches and kingdoms of the world, to the “ Scots Worthies;” — to men who, amid the rugged wilds of their bleak but beloved country, were contented, for the sake of those truths, to “ wander in deserts and in moun- tains, and in dens and in caves of the earth.” If, however, the late events to which reference has now been made have served both to illustrate the true nature of the principles for which the Worthies suf- fered, and to establish their identity with those recently contended for in the Church of Scotland, they have certainly not rendered the subject of this Essay less interesting or less instructive than it was before. On the contrary, they have invested it with fresh claims on the attention of all who are concern- ed for the honour of Christ, and for the progress and prosperity of His spiritual kingdom. Nor have they impaired its right to challenge the earnest and re- spectful consideration of the enlightened patriot. It is a subject which, the more it is investigated, will the more clearly be seen to have a close and xiv HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO inseparable connexion with civil and religious | liberty. And while, therefore, both for the citizen and ! for the Christian, the subject has materials pregnant | with instruction, — it cannot but be regarded as | possessing an additional and peculiar attraction to | thoughtful minds, when viewed in connexion with 1 1 the whole aspect of the present times. Nearly ! i twenty years ago, one of the most eloquent of Bri- | j tish statesmen foresaw and foretold, that the world i I was hastening on towards a conflict of a new and ! | unprecedented kind. Wars of ambition, wars for the conquest of territory, had long had their deso- lating course. But the “ war of opinions” which his discerning eye descried in the distance, was, in his ! I judgment, not more certainly drawing near, than it would prove in the issue fiercer in its character, and more sweeping in its range than any of the contests that had preceded it. The momentous changes which, in quick succession, have since passed on the political and religious condition of the British em- pire, and of many of the continental nations, have strikingly attested the sagacity of Mr Canning’s anticipations. The war of opinions is already be- gun; and, multifarious as to superficial observers these may for a while have seemed, every day is showing more plainly, that the opinions which are ultimately to absorb all others and to come out as the grand combatants, are religious opinions; opinions for or against the truth of God. This may ‘ astonish worldly politicians; but the spiritual man who judgeth all things sees in it only the result for which the Bible had prepared him. The contest, in truth, is as old as the days of Cain and Abel, and 1 will endure till that glorious time when the king- ! doms of this world shall have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ. There is an enmity | inherent between those who are spiritually allied to j the promised seed of the woman, and those who are the children of the wicked one. The spirit and principles by which they are respectively animated I and directed are irreconcilably and eternally op- I posed. Satan, as the strong man armed, dwells in the one; and when they are unassailed all may be outwardly tranquil, so far as religious questions are | concerned, because his goods are in peace. Christ is the adversary stronger than he, and it is when He comes to bind the strong man, that the fierce and desperate resistance begins. And this fact it is which furnishes the only right key to the religious commotions, either of the past or of the present age. j A period of revival in the Church of Christ is sure to be a season marked by the bitter hatred and busy I hostility of the unbelieving world. Such a spiritual awakening is a note of alarm sounded through the j camp of the enemy of souls. It is a call to arms ; j it is a warning to stand upon his guard; it is a threatening of danger to his kingdom ; and he is too ' vigilant to neglect the admonition. And never, per- | haps, since the days of the Reformation, did Satan’s empire feel more distinctly beneath it than now, the heavings of the moral earthquake which is destined in the end to shake it into ruins. In proceeding to execute the design proposed in this Essay, the first thing to be done is, to ascertain what the principles for which the Scots Worthies suffered really were. This point being settled, it J will be necessary next to state and expound the principles involved in the recent controversy of the | Church of Scotland. The object of the Essay will j have been accomplished, when, thereafter, we shall have instituted a comparison between the principles of the one period and those of the other, and esta- blished their substantial identity. I. In entering on an inquiry into the principles of the Scots Worthies, it is important to bear in mind that their struggles extended through a period of one hundred and fifty years. Beginning with the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, in 1528, they stretched on, with only a few brief intervals of repose, till the death of James Ren wick, in 1688 In the course of a contest so prolonged, the form which their principles assumed was not always the same. At one time it took the shape of a testimony against errors in doctrine ; at another, against errors in church discipline and government; at a third, against errors affecting the whole question of the Church’s constitution and privileges as a spiritual kingdom. And to those, accordingly, who look only at the outside of things, it may seem altogether impossible and utterly preposterous to attempt to prove anything like an identity between the chang- ing and countless contests of a century and a half, and the one brief, continuous, and connected strug- gle of our own times. But though theirs was a war of generations, while ours has seemingly been decided in a single campaign, it will be found on a close inspection that we have been fighting, in both cases, the same battle, and with the same weapons ; and, moreover, it will probably very soon appear that as it took many conflicts to terminate the strife before, it is not the one that has taken place that is destined to end it now. At the com- mencement of the sixteenth century Europe was lying prostrate, in ignorance and degradation, under the universal sway of popish tyranny and superstition. In the pretended seat of an humble and holy apostle there sat the Man of Sin and Son of Perdition. The book of life was shut up and sealed ; the minds and consciences of men were enslaved ; the right of private judgment in matters of religious truth was peremptorily interdicted, and its exercise punished as a heinous crime. The nations, brutalized and bent THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xv down beneath a remorseless spiritual despotism, had ceased to struggle, and were contented “ to wonder after the beast.” Religion had become a craft whereby to make merchandise of the souls of men. Where might an agency be found sufficient to con- tend with a power that plucked crowns from the heads of kings, and, by the utterance of a word, covered whole realms with desolation and mourning? “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts !” In the neglected library of the Augustinian monastery at Erfurt there might then be seen, day after day, a youth with a little volume in his hand. That youth was Luther — that volume was the word of God. He read and, wondering, learned the glorious truth, that God is in Christ Jesus reconciling the world unto himself, I not imputing unto men their trespasses ; and that a man is justified without works of the law, and wholly by faith in the finished righteousness of Christ. He looked on that little volume and he saw the light of fife ; he looked around him on the wide domain of the papal power and he beheld everywhere the darkness of spiritual death. He came forth with that volume in his hand. It was the sword of the Spirit, unsheathed by the hand of the Reformer. From the depths of the Thuringian forest he sent it gleaming hi its own ethereal bright- ness over the nations. Rome quailed and cowered before it ; the spell of its dominion was broken, and the freedom of the world was won. The essence of the Reformation consisted in the recovery of the word of God. As the only infalli- ble rule of faith and manners, it became thencefor- ward the grand umpire in all religious questions ; and it may therefore be fairly described as the sum of Luther’s work — that, in bringing men back to the Scriptures of truth, he established the mo- mentous principle, that God alone is Lord of the conscience. It was the recognition of this princi- j pie that emancipated the human mind from the yoke of bondage under which it had groaned for ages ; and that paved the way for all those victories over ignorance and error which the church of Christ has subsequently achieved. Patrick Hamilton, the earliest of the Scots Wor- thies, was the pupil of the great German Reformer. Attracted to Wittemberg by the fame of Luther and Melancthon, he imbibed from their lips those blessed truths which make men wise unto salvation ; — he embraced them, not on the authority of these great men, but solely on the authority of the divine record in which they were found. What, there- fore, he may justly be said to have found, while sit- ting at the feet of these fights of a dark age, was not the doctrine of salvation by grace — was not the way of a sinner’s acceptance with God — but rather the standard by which that, and every other truth of divine revelation, may be known. In a word, what he brought with him, on his return to Scot- land, was the Bible. In it he had discerned the “lively oracle,” at which it was the right and duty of every man for himself to hear the Lord’s own voice in answer to every inquiry, both as to what man is to believe concerning God, and as to the duty which God requireth of man. The use made of this unerring standard might vary with the vary- ing forms of falsehood and wickedness which it was needed to expose ; but that which the Lutheran Reformation had effected was to recover the long neglected and forgotten test, which, like the touch of Ithuriel’s spear, was thenceforth to detect all error, and establish all truth regarding the doctrine, discipline, worship, and government of the church of God. For several years previous to Hamilton’s return to his native country, the doctrines of the Reformation had been gaining currency in Scot- land. This is sufficiently attested by the fact, that, in 1525, an act of parliament was passed strictly prohibiting the importation of the writings of the continental protestant divines ; and forbidding all disputations even about the “ heresies of Luther, except it be to the confusion thereof, and that by clerks in the schools ecclesiastic.”* “ Every one,” said the Lord Jesus, “ that doeth evil, hateth the fight ; neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved;” and nowhere could these words have had a more pointed application, than to the state of things which then existed in this kingdom. “ Of the doctrine of Christianity almost nothing remained but the name. Instead of being directed to offer up their adorations to one God, the people were taught to divide them among an innumerable company of inferior divinities. * * * The sacrifice of the mass was represented as pro- curing forgiveness of sins to the living and the dead, to the infinite disparagement of the sacrifice by which Jesus Christ expiated sin and procured ever- lasting redemption ; and the consciences of men were withdrawn from faith in the merits of their Saviour, to a delusive reliance upon priestly absolu- tions, papal pardons, and voluntary penances. * * * It is difficult for us to conceive how empty, ridicu- lous, and wretched, those harangues were which the monks delivered for sermons. Legendary tales concerning the founder of some religious order, his wonderful sanctity, the miracles which he perform- ed, his combats with the devil, his watchings, fast- ings, and flagellations ; the virtues of holy water, chrism, crossing, and exorcism ; the horrors of pur- gatory, and the numbers released from it by the * Hetherington’s History of the Church of Scotland, p. 34. I HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO xvi | intercession of some powerful saint ; these, with | low jests, table-talk, and fireside scandal, formed I the favourite topics of the preachers, and were I served up to the people instead of the pure, salutary, and sublime doctrines of the Bible.”* In a word, darkness covered the land, and gross darkness the people ; and the great business of the abettors of this monstrous system of superstition and tyranny was to close up, by fraud or force, every avenue by ! which the light of divine truth might have shone | in upon and disclosed its hideous and manifold j abominations. But a time and a set time to favour i Zion had come. The dark ages, which, like a long j night, had brooded over Europe, were about to have an end; and, as the natural sun, when the hour of his rising returns, sends even the very first of his dawning rays, not into one solitary hamlet but over half a continent at once — it was over a field as wide that the earliest beams of the Reformation shone. About the same time that Luther was visited with the knowledge of the truth in Germany, the same ! blessing was vouchsafed to Zuingle in Switzerland, and to Calvin in France. The Sun of Righteous- I ness had reached the horizon’s verge ; and his light, { struggling through the dense clouds in which j popish superstition had wrapped the nations of j Christendom for centuries, was already streaming j from the Mediterranean to the Baltic ; and while i the central nations of Europe felt the first quicken- | ing impulse of his returning rays, their illumination | was faintly gilding, at the same hour, the mountain summits of this distant island of the sea. Even before he visited the continent, Patrick Hamilton had become an object of suspicion to the vigilant guardians of Romanism, by the disposition ! he evinced to break through the trammels of the | schoolmen, and by the freedom with which he spoke j out against the prevailing corruptions of the church. What some, to us, unknown agency had begun, was completed by his intercourse with the German Re- former. Impatient to impart to his beloved country the light of that divine word which now fully illumi- nated his own soul, he hastened his return, disregard- ing all the dangers which he well knew awaited him. His career was brief, but it was bright and blessed : he had not yet completed his twenty-fourth year, when he was committed as a martyr to the flames. The fire which his testimony kindled, and which his cruel death served only to fan into a brighter flame, went on increasing from day to day,' until within a single generation it had chased the thick darkness utterly away. Hamilton was put to death in the year 1528. In 15G0 — that is, within thirty- two years thereafter — the papal jurisdiction was * M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, fifth edition, pp. 21, 22. abolished in Scotland, and all those laws rescinded which had been made in support of the popish church, or in opposition to the Reformed faith. This period may be correctly described as in- ! eluding within its range the first division — the van- guard — of the noble army of the Scots Worthies. They struck the first effectual blow in the great contest for truth and liberty in Scotland; and though the errors at which they struck were not the same errors as those with which it fell to the lot of their successors to contend, they wielded the same weapon. They fought and triumphed alike by the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. It is of the utmost importance to bear this fact in mind, as it lies at the very foundation of the subject of this essay. It is in this fact we find the true key to the distinguishing principles of the Scots Worthies, which are in other words, the dis- tinguishing principles of the Reformation. The sufficiency of Scripture as the only rule of faith and manners, — this was the ground on which all the Worthies took their stand. It brought every ques- tion of religion and of morals to the infallible standard of the word of God. It set conscience free from the doctrines and commandments of men, in everything to which the divine word is opposed. It placed all men on the footing of a direct, indi- vidual, personal responsibility to Christ who is the “ Head of every man ;” and by the very fact of doing so, condemned all tyranny and oppression. And especially it exhibited the church as Christ’s spiritual kingdom, deriving its existence, its laws, its privileges from hi m alone — requiring all things in it to be done according to his revealed will, and himself to be acknowledged and obeyed as its only Head and King. On the footing of the broad principle thus stated, the Scots Worthies of the period above specified brought their testimony to bear on those errors which immediately concerned the way of salvation. There can be no true church of Christ at all with- out converted souls ; it is they who really consti- tute the house or kingdom of God in this world ; and souls cannot be converted but through the truth as it is in Jesus. Proceeding, therefore, upon I the plan of first making “the tree good,” they j addressed themselves to the work of teaching sin- j ners how they might become just with God. In Scotland accordingly, as in Germany, the first stage of the Reformation was a contest for the grand doc- trine of justification by faith — the article, as Luther justly termed it, of a standing or falling church. How well Patrick Hamilton, the protomartyr of the Scottish Reformation, had studied the recover- I ed standard of truth, was amply proved by the clearness and the fulness of his testimony against THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xvii the errors and corruptions of the church of Rome. There is scarcely a single article in its complicated system of imposture and delusion, on which he did not bring the condemning voice of Scripture point- edly and powerfully to bear. The charges on which he was condemned imbody the most conclu- sive evidence, and form the most satisfactory re- cord, of the correctness of his views on all the lead- ing doctrines of the gospel. Luther began his career in a state of not more than half acquaintance, either with the errors he had been raised up to de- nounce, or with the truths it was to be his glori- ous mission to republish to the world. He groped his way, step by step, out of the darkness of the middle ages into the light of the Reformation. He was already far on in his mighty struggle before he discovered that his adversary was Antichrist — that he was fighting, not with the superinduced, corrup- tions of a true church of God, but with the inherent and radical abominations of the “mystery of ini- quity.” Patrick Hamilton had the benefit of Luther’s progress. He entered the field in conse- quence, on his return from Germany, fully prepared to take his stand, not only against the existing errors of the church of Rome, but against that church itself. From the outset, therefore, of the Reformation in Scotland it was a root and branch warfare with popery. On his trial, accordingly, while it was one part of the accusation against Hamilton that he had repudiated and condemned the whole series of those “ refuges of lies” which popery has substituted in place of the justifying righteousness of Christ — it was another, that he had pronounced the pope to be the Antichrist of Scripture. The light struck by this honoured servant of God was kept burning by a succession of witnesses, some more and some less full in their testimony ; but all, with one consent, appealing to the word of God as the divine standard by which alone all reli- gious controversies must be tried and determined. The most prominent of these witnesses, during the period we are now adverting to, was George Wish- art. Like Hamilton’s, his career was brief; but its effects, under the blessing of God, were so great that he felt himself in a condition, before the two years of his singularly powerful and persuasive preaching were ended, confidently to assure his friends that the sufferers after him should not need to be many; that the victory of truth should soon be won, and the realm of Scotland be “ illuminated with the light of Christ’s gospel as clearly as any realm ever was since the days of the apostles.” It is worthy of notice, as illustrating the principles even of this earliest class of the Scots Worthies — and as serving to show their substantial identity with those of their successors — that, on his trial, in 1546, Wishart disclaimed the jurisdiction of the cardinal at whose bar he was arraigned, desiring “ the Word of God to be his judge, and the Tem- poral Estates.” If his doctrines were erroneous, let his accusers show it by an appeal to Scripture, the only infallible rule of faith. If either his doc- trines or his doings were such as to be worthy of death, let the civil power, which alone beareth the sword, so decide. In making this appeal, Wishart was laying hold for his support on the main pillars of religious and civil liberty. He was taking his stand on what may be fairly described as the cha- racteristic principles of the Reformation. Popery had subverted the very foundations of religious liberty, by putting church authority in the room of Scripture ; and thus bringing conscience, of which God himself is the only lord, into slavish subjection to the caprice or tyranny of man. It had trampled with equal intolerance upon civil freedom, by deny- ing to the civil magistrate the right of an indepen- dent judgment respecting any party or cause over which it thought fit to claim jurisdiction ; and thus j leaving to the secular power no other function but ! that of blindly carrying into execution the church’s j arbitrary decrees. First taking away the “ key of knowledge” — the divine guide by which both spiri- tual and temporal governors are bound respec- tively to regulate their proceedings — and then arro- gating for the ecclesiastical jurisdiction a complete supremacy over the civil, it left no spot in either of these departments on which freedom could plant her foot. To overturn this grinding and debasing despo- tism two things were indispensable : — first, that the Bible, the inspired standard of truth and duty, should be laid open to all ; and then, that the right and obligation both of the church and the state — looking to that divine standard — each to exercise an independent judgment as to the limits of its own province, and as to the matters falling within its jurisdiction, should be distinctly recognised. In this way both parties are brought into immediate contact with the will of Him to whom they are severally responsible ; and, in proportion as that will is understood and owned will men enjoy true liberty, whether as members of the church of Christ, or as members of the commonwealth. It is highly interesting, therefore, as has been already remarked, to meet, even at the very dawn of the Scottish Reformation, with the explicit as- sertion of those very principles, by the subsequent application of which, and after many painful and protracted struggles, the triumph of truth over error, and of right over might, was at length achieved. As Wishart foresaw and foretold, the attempt to xviii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO exclude, by the strong arm of persecution, the light of the gospel from the people of Scotland, however resolutely and remorselessly made, soon proved to be vain. Within twelve years after his death, the con- test, in its first form, came to an end. Walter Mill, formerly a Romish priest, who was burnt in 1558, was the last of these early sufferers. His extreme age — for he was upwards of fourscore years — could not protect him from the rage of his enemies. The decaying superstition — weaker, but not less cruel than heretofore — employed its last efforts in mur- dering this feeble old man — feeble in body, but strong in faith. His dying testimony was this : — u The cause why I suffer this day is not for any crime laid to my charge, though I acknowledge myself a miserable sinner before God ; but only in defence of the truths of Jesus Christ, set forth in the Old and New Testaments. I praise God that he hath called me among the rest of His servants to seal His truth with my life ; and, as I have re- ceived it of Him, so I willingly offer it up for His glory.” The death of this venerable martyr filled the whole country with indignation, stirred up the friends of the truth to redoubled exertion, and has- tened the introduction into Scotland of an entirely new order of things. For a time, indeed, the aspect of affairs appeared to be more alarming than ever to the adherents of the Reformation. The queen regent of Scotland I had entered into a secret treaty with the Romish I clergy, by which they pledged themselves to sup- i ply money to enable her to maintain a sufficient | j force to put down the Reformers by the strong | hand of power. In following this course she was j but doing her part to carry into execution the deep- j laid conspiracy of her bigoted brothers, the princes of the house of Lorraine, whose ruthless purpose was to extinguish the fires of the Reformation in a sea of blood. In prosecution of her nefarious de- sign, she caused four of the leading protestant j preachers to be summoned before the criminal j court, for presuming to teach what, by a previous j proclamation, she had denounced as heresy. This I violent proceeding brought on the crisis at once. J The adherents of the Reformation, now a numerous | and rapidly increasing body, saw clearly that noth- j ing but the most prompt and vigorous measures ! could save them from destruction. Under the able i and influential leaders who guided their counsels, ! the friends of protestant truth were summoned | together, and the queen, at length found herself I ! embarked in a contest, not with a handful of I preachers, but with half her kingdom. An inci- i | dent which occurred at this period may serve to I I illustrate the true nature of the struggle that was 1 now going on. The town of Perth having profess- 1 — ■ ■ — - ■ - - - ■ — ed its attachment to the doctrines of the Reformers, the queen straightway sent for lord Ruthven, the provost, and ordered him to suppress these inno- vations. “ I can make their persons and their goods subject to your majesty,” he instantly re- plied, “ but I have no power over their minds and consciences.” The Bible was just teaching her subjects a lesson which the queen, blinded by arrogance and still more by bigotry, was resolved not to learn. Both parties were now fairly aroused. The queen, confiding in the French troops sent to her aid, threatened to carry her point by fire and sword. On the other hand, the lords of the congregation, as the secular leaders of the adherents of the Re- | formation were termed, brought their dependents j and followers into the field. At this critical mo- j ment, when the cause of truth and liberty was j ! trembling in the balance, the ranks of the Reform- : j ers received an accession worth far more than ten j thousand armed men. In the month of May, 1559, j while the provincial council of the Romish clergy j were assembled in the Greyfriars’ monastery at ! Edinburgh, in earnest consultation on the state of j | ecclesiastical affairs, one of their number suddenly | rushed into the chamber exclaiming, “John Knox j is come !” No fact could be more decisive as to the | influence this remarkable man already possessed, and i j as to the estimate which even his enemies had thus | early formed of his talents and character, than the [ , consternation into which they were thrown by the j simple announcement of his arrival in Scotland. A j shell thrown into a crowd could not create greater j confusion and terror. The council broke up on j the instant, as if incapable of further deliberation, — : j and, despatching with all haste a messenger to the ! > queen, to communicate the unwelcome news, they themselves immediately dispersed. Knox had embraced the views of the Reformers j as early as 1542. It was subsequently, however, first j through the instrumentality of Thomas Williams, \ a converted Dominican monk, and afterwards j through that of the martyr Wishart, that he re- , ceived clear and saving views of evangelical truth. ] In the castle of St Andrews he began his public ministry, as a Reformed preacher, in the year 1547. His first discourse, preached from the 24th and 25th verses of the seventh chapter of Daniel, proclaimed i open war upon the church of Rome as the Anti- ; clirist of Scripture. “ Others hewed the branches of : popery,” it was observed by those who heard him, ! “ but he strikes at the root to destroy the whole.” j On the surrender of the castle, Knox shared the j fate of the garrison and was carried to France, I where, in violation of the terms on which they capitulated, they were detained prisoners of war. ; Along with a few others the Reformer was confined j THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xix on board the galleys, and treated with the utmost rigour and cruelty. For nineteen months he endur- ed these bonds as “ the prisoner of the Lord,” who was thereby training him for the arduous and glo- rious work in which he was destined to be employed. And though his “ outward man” decayed greatly, being wasted almost to a shadow under the hard- ships and privations to which he was incessantly subjected, his work on Prayer, chiefly framed out of the materials suggested by his own experience during that season of sore trial, sufficiently shows that his “inward man” had been renewed from day to day. At length, however, the period of de- liverance arrived. Through what agency he was set free is not certainly known. It took place early in the year 1549, and immediately thereafter he returned to England, where he powerfully aided the cause of the Reformation. Li the beginning of 1554, the state of affairs in that kingdom, under the sway of the “bloody Mary,” was such as to in- duce him to yield to the earnest entreaties of his friends, by withdrawing from a country where his life was in danger every hour. The two succeeed- ing years he spent partly at Geneva and partly at Frankfort, and to the discussions in which he was engaged at the latter of these places it will be necessary afterwards to recur, as bearing a very close resemblance to those which in the present day are threatening, in England at least, to assume a character of a truly alarming kind, and as consti- tuting one of the many links which are now blend- ing the struggles of the Scottish Worthies into so marvellous an identity with the controversies of our own eventful times. In the autumn of 1555, Knox returned to Scotland ; and, though his stay on this occasion was brief— extending to only about twelve months — it was signalized by events which bore the marked impress of his energetic mind, and which powerfully conduced to mature and accelerate the work of the Reformation. Of these, not the least important was, the detaching of the adherents of that cause from the outward communion of the church of Rome. Up till that time they had still continued to' attend public worship, even when mass was celebrated, in the churches of the popish establishment. It was by the earnest remonstrances of Knox that this unworthy compromise between truth and error was finally abandoned, and that the friends of the uncorrupted gospel were formed into a distinct church. Another, though seemingly a much smaller incident, was the influence he then exerted upon the minds of certain eminent indi- viduals — an influence which told powerfully not on them only but on their country. Among those who attended his ministry during his residence at Calder, the seat of Sir James Sandilands, were three youths who received impressions from his lips which they carried to the grave. One of these, lord Lorn, became shortly thereafter, by his fa- ther’s death, earl of Argyle. The other two, lord Erskine and lord James Murray, both lived to be regents of Scotland. The distinguished part which all of them, and especially the last named of the three, subsequently performed in public affairs is 1 abundantly well-known. In the midst of these in- | valuable services which he was every day rendering j to his country, he was summoned again to Geneva, where he resided and laboured till 1559, when he [ returned finally to Scotland; arriving, as has been already noticed, at the most critical moment in the history of the Scottish Reformation. It has been already stated that the two opposing parties were now in open conflict. The queen regent, bent on the destruction of a cause which threatened to be alike fatal to arbitrary power and to popish ascendancy, strove incessantly, now to circumvent the Reformers by the arts of her subtle diplomacy, now to exterminate them by force of arms. For twelve months the country was involved in all the confusion and disorder incident to such a state of things. During this eventful period, Knox was the very life and soul of the protestant cause. His intrepidity imboldened the timid ; his confidence encouraged the desponding ; his wisdom restrained the rash and precipitate ; his untiring energy kept every one at his post — while the singleness of heart with which he prosecuted the one grand design of securing for his country deliverance from Romish tyranny and superstition, and the possession of the pure evangel of J esus Christ — this it mainly was that preserved to the contest its thoroughly religi- ous character, and protected it from the seculariz- ing influence of mere earthly politics. Political questions, it is true, were necessarily involved in the struggle ; for, the resistance which was made to the queen regent’s authority could be justified only by the application of those ultimate principles which lie at the basis of civil society, and which must be held to define the limits, and regulate the exercise j of lawful power. It was on a large view of these principles, accordingly, that the queen’s commis- j sion, which she had received from parliament, was ; suspended by a convention of estates — the only substitute for the legislature which could be pro- cured when a free parliament could not possibly be assembled. On these historical details, however, it is not the business of this essay to enlarge. In the discussions to which these grave and difficult I questions gave rise, no doubt Knox was called to : take and did take a part. His opinion and that of Willock, another of the Reformed ministers, were asked and given. “ And it is not easy,” as XX HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO M‘Crie observes, “ to see how they could have been excused in refusing to deliver their opinion, when required by those who had submitted to their ministry, upon a measure which involved a case of conscience as well as a question of law and political right.” And, without entering further into the subject here, it may well be said regarding the principles on which their view of the case submitted to them was founded, and said in the words and on the high authority of the same distinguished writer, that “if ever the time come when these principles shall be generally abjured or forgotten, the extinc- tion of the boasted liberty of Britain will not be far off.” On the side of the queen regent the French troops alone enabled her to protract the war. The country was almost entirely against her. Hers therefore was an attempt by foreign force to tram- ple on the liberties and the religion of the people. And, accordingly, no sooner were these auxiliaries removed from Scotland, than immediately the whole edifice of popery, which they had been em- ployed to uphold, fell to the ground. With the exception, indeed, of those places that were held or overawed by the queen, and the French troops, the whole country had already abandoned popery. So completely had the people broken loose from its degrading yoke that the priests themselves, finding almost none to accept of their ministrations, had, for the most part, ceased of their own accord to perform the rites of their office. Wherever men could be found quali- fied to conduct the public services of religion, ac- cording to the Reformed faith, they were set up without opposition. The death of the queen regent, which took place in the month of June, 1560, and the withdrawal of the French troops within a few weeks thereafter, in terms of the treaty which France found it expedient to conclude with England, on finding that country determined to interfere in good earnest in support of the pro- testant cause in Scotland, these events removed the only remaining hinderance to the entire over- throw of the ancient superstition. Things were now left to take their proper and natural course ; and the cause of the Reformation, no longer obstructed by a foreign power, like a mighty river escaping from some rocky barrier which had inter- rupted its progress, flowed on with an accelerated current, sweeping away every lesser obstacle before it. The treaty, above noticed, did not pretend to interfere with the subject of religion. This was a peculiarly happy circumstance, and very ! remarkably in keeping with the whole history and character of the Scottish Reformation. Events from the beginning had been so ordered as to lea ve the truth to develop itself, and to mould the religious institutions of the country according to the principles of Scripture. In England it was al- together otherwise. There the sovereign had taken the Reformation into his own hands ; and by his imperious will its whole movements were con- trolled. The image and superscription, accordingly, which it received, was not so much that of Christ as of Cesar. Instead of leaving its divine impress up- on the world, the church of England was made to take the world’s earthly impress upon itself — a fact which not only throughout the long struggles of the Scots Worthies, but also in the more recent contests of the present day, has told most power- fully against the rights and liberties of the church of Scotland. Agreeably to one of the leading provisions of the treaty above mentioned, a free parliament was con- vened. Never, perhaps, had the representatives of any country a more momentous duty to discharge than that which now devolved upon the estates of Scotland. Of the civil grievances they were called to redress, important though they were, it is not our business to speak. It is only in so far as their deliberations bore upon the great cause of religion that they fall within the province of this essay. This vital subject was brought under their notice by a petition subscribed by a large number of the professors of the Reformed faith. This petition, and the measures which arose out of it, bring out very clearly the views which the Worthies of that period held as to the civil magistrate’s duty in regard to religion. There were three things which the petitioners sought at the hands of parliament. First, That the national sanction should be withdrawn from popery, as being a system of doctrine corrupt, idolatrous, and condemned by the word of God. Second, That order should be taken for the restora- tion of the pure doctrine and discipline of the church of Christ; and, Third, That the revenues which had been employed in upholding the errors and corruptions of the church of Rome should be alienated from that institution, and appropriated to the sustentation of a pure gospel ministry, the promotion of learning, and the support of the poor. It is not so much the business of this essay to defend the opinions of the Worthies, as to show what they really were. To enter therefore upon the general argument as to the place which civil rulers are called, on grounds of Scripture and right reason, to occupy in reference to religion, would be not only to enlarge this essay far beyond the limits within which it must be confined, but to change, to some extent, the nature and design of the essay itself. The petition above described makes it suffi- I ciently manifest that the Scottish Reformers, like j THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xxi those both of England and of the continent, were of one mind as to the right and duty of civil rulers to concern themselves officially about the welfare of religion, and of the church of Christ. What they desired was not simply that the estates of parlia- ment should cease to sanction the corrupt church of Rome ; but that they should lend national coun- tenance and aid to the true church of Christ. At the same time, they had then no immediate call to discuss either the precise nature, or the exact limits, of the civil magistrate’s duty in relation to sacred things. And this is the more necessary to be kept in mind, because loose or incidental expres- sions on this subject, occurring occasionally in the documents of that period, have, in our own times, been industriously perverted to support opinions altogether contrary to those which they actually held. As has been already remarked in an earlier portion of this essay, the first grand work of the Reformers in Scotland, and everywhere else, was to establish and promulgate the truth concerning the way of salvation. And, accordingly, on look- ing into the Confession of Faith which the Reformed ministers, at the request of parliament, prepared, we find it to be remarkably clear and full on all the great doctrines which bear upon the subject of a sinner’s acceptance with God; while on the subject of the duty of civil rulers towards religion and the church, it contains nothing at all beyond the mere affirmation of the general principle, that “not only .are they appointed for civil policy; but also for maintenance of the true religion, and for suppres- sing of idolatry and superstition whatsoever.” But, at the same time, while the burden of that testimony which the Confession, laid before the estates of parliament in 1560, contains, has respect to the great articles of the Christian faith, it is not less remarkable for the fulness and precision with which it lays down what we have elsewhere char- acterized as the distinguishing principle of the Re- formation; viz., the sufficiency of Scripture as the only rule of faith and manners. In the explicit assertion of this fundamental principle, they had provided and made ready for perpetual use, a weapon wherewith successfully to contend with every form of religious error — with every invasion of the liberties, or corruption of the doctrines and discipline of the church of Christ. “As we be- lieve,” says the Confession, “ the Scriptures of God sufficient to instruct and make the man of God j perfect, so do we affirm and avow the authority of the same to be of God, and neither to depend on men nor angels. We affirm, therefore, that such ; as allege the Scriptures to have no authority but that which is received from the Kirk, to be blasphe- mous against God, and injurious to the true Kirk, which always heareth and obeyeth the voice of her own Spouse and Pastor, but taketh not upon her to be mistress over the same.” In these pregnant and weighty sentences is the germ of the whole controversy which the Worthies maintained, both with the corruptions of the church of Rome, and with the Erastian encroachments of the civil power. And how fully they understood the principle there- in asserted, and how fearlessly they were prepared to carry it throughout the whole range of its wide application, one other quotation may suffice to show. In the section upon “ the notes by which the true Kirk is discerned from the false, and who shall be judge of the doctrine” this striking passage occurs, “ when controversy then happeneth for the right understanding of any place or sentence of Scrip- ture, or the reformation of any abuse within the Kirk of God, we ought not so much to look what men before us have said or done, as unto that which the Holy Ghost uniformly speaketh within the body of the Scriptures, and unto that which Jesus Christ himself did, and commanded to be done. For this is a thing universally granted, that the Spirit of God, which is the spirit of unity, is in no- thing contrarious to himself. If, then, the interpre- tation, determination, or sentence of any doctors, kirk, or council, repugn to the plain word of God, written in any other place of Scripture, it is a thing most certain that theirs is not the true understand- ing and meaning of the Holy Ghost, supposing that councils, realms, and nations, have approved and received the same.” The Confession of Faith, from which these ex- tracts are taken, was drawn up, as has been already remarked, at the request of the Estates of Parlia- ment. That body did not assume to dictate a con- fession for the church ; nor, on the other, did the Reformed church claim any right to force its con- fession upon the legislature. As serving to illus- trate the views regarding the respective provinces and duties of church and state held by the Re- formers of that age, the fact now noticed deserves particular attention. The principle on which they acted was this, that the church and state are mutu- ally independent, but both alike responsible to God : that each accordingly is entitled and bound to form its own judgment as to what the divine will is, and as to what it requires. Accordingly when the Re- formers made their approach to parliament on the subject of religion, it was in the capacity of men “ professing the Lord Jesus within the realm.” As representing the interests of the true church of Christ in Scotland, they accounted it their duty and their privilege to admonish parliament of the sin and danger of continuing any longer the na- j tional sanction to the errors and corruptions of J HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO the church of Rome, But while they singled out and condemned the leading heresies and crimes with which that church was chargeable, they did not pretend to force their convictions upon the legislature ; they undertook to prove whatever they had affirmed by an appeal to the Scriptures of truth. The legislature, on the other hand, while it claimed and exercised the right of deciding for ! itself on the important questions that were thus i submitted for its consideration, carefully abstained jfrom intruding into the province of the church. | Parliament called upon the Reformed ministers to | prepare and lay before it a summary of doctrine in I accordance with the word of God. This was meet- ing the first part of the demand which the memorial of the Reformers contained. Such a summary being promptly produced, it was carefully and deliberately examined by the legislature — the ministers as re- presenting the church being present to explain and j to defend it. And being thus satisfied of its agree- ! ment with Scripture, it was solemnly ratified and I approved. This important event, which took place I on the 17th of August, 1560, was followed up with- in a week thereafter by the abolition of the papal jurisdiction, the prohibition of the mass, and the | rescinding of all laws against the protestant faith, | and in favour of the church of Rome. These seve- 1 ral acts of the estates of parliament were without j delay transmitted by commissioners to Paris to be laid before queen Mary and her husband, the king of France, then the sovereigns of Scotland. And the observation which in his History of the Refor- mation Knox makes on this circumstance, brings J out very clearly the views above expressed. “ All i that we did,” says he, “ was rather to show our ! dutiful obedience than to beg of them any strength ; to our religion, which from God has full power and needeth not the suffrage of man, but in so far as j man has need to believe it, if that ever he shall have participation of the life everlasting.”* With the ratification of the Confession, and the consequent national renunciation of popery, the first struggle of the Scots Worthies may be said to have been successfully terminated. The Bible, the recovered standard of truth, had been brought to bear upon the assertion and vindication of those radical doctrines which immediately concern the salvation of the soul. It is the knowledge and belief of these doctrines that brings a church into existence. But the question subsequently and necessarily arises, how is this church to be governed ? By what laws ; by what officers ; under what authority ? In point of fact, this was precisely the question that did arise at the period we are now considering. When the * Hist, of the Ref., M‘Gavin’s FA. n. 222. Reformers made their appeal to parliament, it was no half measure they proposed — no partial or limit- ed view of the grand subject they had in hand, which they presented to the legislature of their country. Evangelical doctrine they put first in order, as lying at the basis of all true religious re- I formation. And, it has been already observed that, in calling on the Reformed ministers to prepare a i scriptural summary of doctrine, and in afterwards | ratifying and approving it, parliament met the first j part of the demand which the memorial of the Re- formers contained. But that memorial set forth also the necessity of provision being made for the j restoration of a pure and scriptural form of church ! discipline. The disposition to shrink from enter- | ing on this branch of the subject, the positive dis- j like of it which the parliament so unequivocally evinced, was sufficiently ominous. The simple re- j cognition of evangelical truth was one thing — the | recognition of the right on the part of the church : to enforce its obligations on scriptural principles, i and with scriptural fidelity, was another. The ! estates of the Scottish parliament consented to the one, after a struggle of thirty-two years — beginning with the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, in 1528, and ending with the national movement which, in 1560, overthrew the authority of the queen Regent, and along with it, the ascendancy, in Scotland, of the church of Rome. It was not till after a strug- gle of exactly the same duration, and of all but equal severity, that king James consented to the | other. As the contest throughout the whole of the first period had been substantially for doctrine ; so throughout the whole of the second period, that is, from 1560 to 1592, it was substantially a con- test for the church’s policy or discipline. Atten- tion to this fact is important, not only as it is one that throws much light on the real nature of the principles for which the Scots Worthies were called j to witness and to suffer, but which also illustrates the unity of the struggle in which they were engag- ed. That which commenced in 1560 was only a more advanced stage of the controversy begun by Patrick Hamilton thirty years before. The con- test for doctrine came first, because it is doctrine that makes a church. But a church being brought into existence — in other words, a number of persons j being brought publicly to profess their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ — the question must immediately, and of necessity, arise : How is this spiritual society to be governed ? The church is like a portion of territory rescued from the world ; and, unless it be hedged round 'with the fences of its own peculiar discipline, the world will soon so overlay it with its corruptions that the line of demarcation between them will entirely disappear. When the Lord THE SCOTS WORTHIES. brought his vine out of Egypt, he thought it not enough to plant it carefully in the new vineyard of J udea, and to dig a wine-press to receive its fruits ; He also raised a fence about it, and He built a tower. “ As no commonwealth,” said the Reformers, “ can flourish or long endure without good laws and sharp execution of the same, so neither can the kirk of God be brought to purity, neither yet be retained in the same without the order of ecclesias- tical discipline.”* It might perhaps be thought strange that a truth so obvious should not at once have secured the con- sent of all ; and yet history tells us that the aversion to the church’s policy was even stronger than the aversion to her doctrine. The events of our own time painfully assure us that it continues unabated to the present hour. Nor ought this to surprise any spiritual mind. The church’s doctrine may not excite much of the world’s enmity, if the church will only be contented to hold it and to use it on the world’s terms. But the instant the church claims to be recognised as a kingdom not of this world ; as a divine institution having laws, ordi- nances, and a government of her own ; and in this high character proceeds, knowing no man after the flesh, to execute the will of her only Lord — then it is that the depths of the world’s enmity are stirred. No sooner accordingly did the Reformers address themselves to the work of preparing a scriptural system of church discipline, than they found them- selves embarking on a new sea of difficulties and I perils. Although there can be no doubt that a i goodly number of the lords of the congregation were men of sincere piety, who loved the truth for its own sake ; it is not less certain that not a few of those who sided with the Reformers in what we have called the first branch of their great contest, were influenced by motives of a very questionable kind. In that earlier stage of the struggle there were various considerations that might enlist men in the cause of the Reformation, altogether apart from the love of evangelical truth. The haughty pretensions, the oppressive exactions, the intolera- ble tyranny of the church of Rome, could not fail to arouse a spirit of impatience, and to beget a deep desire for deliverance from so galling a yoke. Moreover, in the breaking up of an institution which had absorbed a great part of the wealth and property of the kingdom, there was to selfish minds a most inviting prospect of the richest spoils. That such a movement as that of the Reformation should have swept along with it a multitude of individuals who looked to no higher objects than these, was nothing more than what every one acquainted with * First Book of Discipline, ch. ix. xxiii human nature would have been led to anticipate. Till the year 1560 nothing had occurred to dis- tinguish and detach the merely secular from the spiritual adherents of the Reformation. The rati- fication of the reformed Confession, and the aboli- tion of the papal jurisdiction, were measures in which a worldly politician could readily concur. They cleared the way for an attack on the revenues of popery ; and accordingly, when these steps were taken by the estates of parliament, only two or three individuals were found to lift their voice against the decision. This unanimity, however, was at an end so soon as the proposal was made, in the room of the abolished superstition, to recognise the jurisdiction, liberties, and privileges of a true church of Christ. In the discourses which, during the sitting of parliament, Knox delivered from the Prophecies of Haggai, the Reformer expatiated on this subject with great fulness and power; and the scoffing commentary which his bold and earnest admonitions drew forth from Maitland of Lething- ton, was sufficiently ominous of the spirit in which too many of his hearers were disposed to receive them. “ We may now forget ourselves,” said he, u and bear the barrow to build the house of God.” And this certainly he and many others had no mind to do. Parliament broke up without enter- i ing on the subject of the church’s policy at all. 1 They shrunk from it with the most resolute aver- | sion. And while they, in thus refusing even to ! entertain the question, were, many of them at least, ' only giving effect to the sordid views and feelings of their own minds, the Most High was overruling ^ j their selfish hostility so as to make it conduce to 1 1 the furtherance of his own cause. Had they pro- ! ceeded to handle the question of church discipline under the influence of such . notions of it as were j then prevalent in the Scottish legislature, the re- j suit could hardly have been other than disastrous j to the interests of truth and righteousness. As the J j church had been left to develop and mature her j views of doctrine in a thirty years’ struggle with | popery, before ever she was called to seek the rati- | fication of her confession at the hands of the civil j power ; so was she destined, in the wise and won- derful providence of God, to be trained by a similar process to those views of discipline that were ulti- mately to command the homage of the nation. It were to advance too far into the province of the j historian were we to go minutely into a statement j , of the successive steps by which the contest for the 1 1 church’s policy proceeded ; our narrative must ne- cessarily be confined to those outstanding events in the progress of the struggle, which mark its leading epochs. As the Reformers were unwearied in pressing the subject on the attention of the civil HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO xxiv rulers, the privy council, not long after the dissolu- tion of the parliament, gave a commission to Knox and to four other ministers, who had been his asso- ciates in preparing the Confession of Faith, to draw up a system of ecclesiastical government. And as the word of God had been the one grand standard according to which the church had reformed her doctrine, so it was exclusively by the same divine model they proceeded to adjust her policy. The sufficiency of Scripture as the only rule of faith and manners, and the right and duty of regulating the church’s affairs in accordance with the will of Christ as revealed in his holy word — these sacred principles were applied with the same uncompro- mising fidelity to the question of church discipline as already they had been to the question of church doctrine. We are not for a moment to suppose that, because the Reformers urged this latter sub- ject, as they had urged the former, on the attention of the civil authorities of the kingdom, they meant in so doing to recognise a right or competency in these civil authorities to frame its policy for the church. They acted in this matter on the broad general ground of its being the duty of civil rulers both to profess and to countenance the true religion — to recognise and support the church of Christ. But, while, for the discharge of this duty it was indis- pensable that the civil magistrate should be satisfied that both the doctrine and discipline of the church were in accordance with the word of God, and that in satisfying himself on this point he should exercise a free and independent judgment, the Reformers would have repudiated with abhorrence the idea of his being entitled to force his views upon the church. Nothing, indeed, can be more explicit on this sub- ject than the language employed in the Introduc- tion to the Book of Policy by the Reformers them- selves. “For,” said they, addressing the privy council, “as we will not bind your wisdom to our judgments farther than we are able to prove by God’s plain Scriptures, so must we most humbly crave of you, even as ye will answer in God’s presence (before whom both ye and we must appear to render account of all our facts), that ye repudiate nothing for pleasure and affection of men, which ye be not able to improve by God’s written \ and revealed word.” The system of ecclesiastical l discipline and government, which they thus sought to have ratified, was prepared under the church’s immediate direction, and was formally adopted and sanctioned by the General Assembly before it was brought under the notice of the civil government. The following passage from “ Row’s History of the Kirk of Scotland,” recently published by the Wodrow Society, relates very minutely how this in- teresting and important work was carried through. “ When the Ministers did putt their hands to work, the Assemblie of the Kirk laid some heads of the Policie of the Kirk upon everie man who was thought meetest for the same : and after they had given in their travells, to be considered by the Brethren, they were either approven in that whilk they had done, or els their inlaiks were supplied, and doubtes opened up to them that they might sett doune the head appointed to them more perfitelie, whilk by great pains, much reading, prayer, and meditation, earnestly in calling the name of God in end was finished, and by the allowance and appro- bation of the whole General Assemblie : after that some articles whilk were thought too long were abridged. The whole Policie of the Kirk was put in writ in a book and presented to the nobilitie and Great Council of this realme in the end of the same yeare.”*' In this book the platform of presbyterian gov- ernment was laid down, and directions given con- cerning the calling of those that were to hold office and bear rule in the church. On this latter point the principle is unequivocally recognised that “it appertained to the people and to every several congregation to elect their own ministers ;”f while, in regard to the admission of ministers to their sacred office, it is ordained that in addition “ to the consent of the people and church whereto they shall be appointed,” they must also have “ the approbation of the learned ministers appointed for their examination.” The permanent officebearers of the church were declared to be ministers or pastors, doctors or teachers, ruling elders and deacons. Rules were prescribed for the prompt and vigorous exercise of church discipline to which, with scriptural fidelity this Book of Policy affirmed that, “all the estates within the realm must be subject, as well the rulers as they that are ruled, yea, and the preachers themselves as well as the | poorest within the kirk.”J A plan was also sketched for the future appropriation of the ecclesiastical revenues. The objects to which it was proposed that these should be devoted were the sustentation of the ministry, the maintenance of a system of national education, and the relief of the poor. The views on these several points, and especially on the great and all important question of education, are distinguished by the truest wisdom and by the most enlightened benevolence ; of themselves they con- stitute a noble testimony to the Christian patriot- ism and enlarged philanthropy of the Scottish Reformers. It is very worthy of remark that while this standard of policy is so full and clear on the * Row’s History, p. 16. + First Book of Discipline, Ch. 3fV., sect. 2. £ First Book of Discipline, Ch. IX. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. '' 'll XXV ! I great functions and obligations of a church of Christ, it contains little or nothing on the subject of the church’s relation to the civil power. The controversy on that subject had not then arisen; and it would seem, accordingly, to have been taken for granted, by the framers of the Book of Disci- pline and by the General Assembly in adopting it, that the state would be as ready as the church to be guided in all such matters implicitly by the word of God; and that, recognising in Scripture the church’s true character as the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, civil rulers would freely concede to it the free and unfettered exercise and enjoyment of all those rights and privileges its divine Head had bestowed. Events soon showed how fallacious was this hope. The privy council refused to sanction the Book of Policy ; for though many of the mem- bers approved of it, others warmly resisted it. “ This opposition,” says Dr M‘Crie, “ did not arise from any difference of sentiment between them and the ministers respecting ecclesiastical government, but partly from aversion to the strict discipline which it appointed to be exercised against vice, and partly from reluctance to comply with its requisi- tion for the appropriation of the revenues of the popish church to the support of the new religious and literary establishments.”* We have already remarked that till 1560 nothing had occurred to dissever the merely secular from the truly sincere and religious adherents of the Reformation. This, however, was at once effected by the Book of Dis- cipline, and hence the origin of the new struggle which we have described as constituting the second branch of the one grand contest for the supremacy of divine truth. In contending for evangelical doc- trine the immediate adversary of the Reformers was the church of Rome. In contending for primi- tive and apostolic discipline their chief conflict was with the civil rulers of the kingdom. In the one case they fought with antichrist : in the other with the ungodly spirit of the world. Calvin had before this encountered a similar opposition in enforcing church discipline at Geneva; and the observation dropped by M‘Crie in a foot note when adverting to his well-known case, is entirely in harmony with the view we have taken of the real nature of the contest which the Reformers had to maintain from and after the period at which we have now arrived. “ The dispute between him (Calvin) and his oppo- nents turned on this question, — Are ministers obliged to administer the sacraments to those whom they judge unworthy; or, (which amounts to the same thing) are the decisions of the church court in such matters to be reviewed and reversed by the civil * M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, Vol. II., p. 5. court? * * * And this will be found to have j been the true state of the question in Scotland, hi the greater part of the discussions between the court and the church after the establishment of the Re- formation.”* What tended greatly to strengthen and encour- age those who were opposed to' the ratification of the Book of Policy, was the return of queen Mary to Scotland. Bringing along with her that deep- rooted enmity to the Reformation in which she had been nurtured under her bigoted relatives in France, she was but too well disposed to throw her weight at once into the scale of those who were obstructing, from whatever motive, the progress and prosperity of the Reformed church ; while they on the other hand found a fresh incentive to pursue the course they had begun in the prospect of court favour which it was so likely to procure. Accord- ingly, when the General Assembly convened, the first after the return of the queen, in December 1561, the separation between the two parties be- came more open and proclaimed. “ The courtiers,” says Knox, “ drew unto themselves some of the lords, and would not convene with their brethren as before they were accustomed, but kept themselves to the abbey.”f A conference having taken place, a scene occurred of which we make no apology for extracting Knox’s graphic description, not simply because of its own intrinsic interest, but especially because of the light which it throws on the real nature of the struggle which had now fairly begun. “The reasoning was sharp and quick on either side ; the queen’s faction alleged, that it was suspicious to princes that subjects should assemble themselves and keep conventions -without their knowledge. It was answered that without the knowledge of the prince the kirk did nothing, for the prince perfectly understood that within that realm there was a reformed kirk and that they had their orders and appointed times of convention. And so without knowledge of the prince they did nothing. “ Yea, said Lethington, the queen knew and knows well enough : but the question is, whether the queen alters such conventions ?” It was answered, that if the liberty of the kirk stood or should stand upon the queen’s allowance or dis- allowance, we are assured not only to lack Assem- blies, but also to lack the liberty of the public preaching of the Evangel. That affirmative was marked and the contrary affirmed. “ Well,” said the other, “time will try the truth ; but to my former words this will I add — take from us the freedom ol Assemblies and take from us the Evangel : for with- out Assemblies how shall good order and unity in * M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, Yol. II., p. 3, foot note. ■f Knox’s History, p. 256. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO xxvi doctrine be kept ? * * * * * Hereafter,” continues the Reformer, “was the Book of Discipline proponed and desired to have been ratified by the queen’s majesty.” That was scripped (derided^) at: and the question was demanded, — “How many of those that subscribed that book would be subject unto it?” It was answered, “All the godly.” “Will the duke?” said Lethington. “If he will not,” answered the lord Ochiltree, “ I would that he were scraped out, not only of that book, but also out of our number and company : for, to what pur- pose shall labours be taken to put the kirk in order, and to what end shall men subscribe, and then never mean to keep word of that which they pro- mise?” Lethington answered, “ Many subscribed them in fide parentum, as the children are baptized.” One, to wit, John Knox, answered, “ Albeit ye think that scoff proper, yet as it is most untrue, so it is most improper. That book was read in public audience, and by the space of divers days the heads thereof were reasoned, as all that here sit know well enough, and ye yourselves cannot deny: so that no man was required to subscribe that which he understood not.” “ Stand content” — said one — “that book will not be obtained.” “Let God,” said the other, “ require the lack which this poor commonwealth shall have of the things therein con- tained, from the hands of such as stop the same.”* It were beside the object of the present essay, to attempt to trace out in detail the conflict which had now fairly begun between the Erastian spirit of the court, on the one hand, and the Reformed church bent on the vindication of her freedom, on the other. Suffice it to say that, though both smiles and threats were employed to seduce the Reformers from their principles, they nobly maintained their ground. Acting on her own intrinsic authority as a divine institution, the church proceeded to perfect her arrangements ; to put her discipline in force ; and to carry out her own views of the constitution given to her by her divine Head and Lord, in his own holy word. “ They took not their example,” says Row, “from any kirk in the world, no not from Geneva.” Their aim was to form all things “ ac- cording to the pattern showed to them,” in the volume of inspiration. Accordingly, without any sanction from the state, and entirely on her own responsibility, the church held a series of General Assemblies, reaching from 1560 to 1567; in the course of which she developed all the great features of Presbyterian government. She sanctioned the office of elder ; instituted kirk sessions for the exercise of church discipline in each congregation ; erected provincial synods; claimed and exercised all the powers and functions of a true church of * Knox’s History of the Reformation, M‘Gavin’s Ed. p. 257. Christ. So far from yielding up any of her scrip- tural rights and liberties under the pressure of that hostility with which, in asserting them, she was constantly assailed, she held on her way through sunshine and storm, with unabating energy and faithfulness, until at length, in the good providence of God, the state, in 1567, consented to take her into union upon her own terms. The statute by which in that year she was recognised as the na- tional church, did not pretend to confer upon hm* a constitution, or to convey to her the spiritual jurisdiction she was thenceforth to exercise. It dealt with the church as an existing institution, having already her own peculiar powers in full operation, and simply ratified what the church al- ready possessed as her own rightful and inalienable jurisdiction derived to her from the Lord Jesus Christ. The struggle, however, by no means terminated here. No sooner had the church, by her growing moral influence, and by her steadfast and unwearied assertion of the great Scripture principles she had imbodied in her constitution, wrung from the state a ratification of her rights and liberties, than efforts to subvert them were renewed with greater energy and bitterness than ever. It is instructive to mark through what means these assaults were made on the constitution of the church, and on the privileges of her people. When the act 1567, above alluded to, was passed, the only point at which a pretext for interference with the spiritual affairs proper to the church was left open, was in regard to the appointment of ministers. By the statute in ques- tion, “ The ministers and people professing the re- formed faith,” were, “ declared to be the only true church of Christ within the realm ;” (c. 6.) and the “ examination and admission of ministers,” was ordained to be “ only in the power of the kirk now openly and publicly professed within the same ;” — but, — and here was the seemingly narrow crevice at which the secular power has never failed to thrust in its hand, to the deadly injury of evangeli- I cal religion, — “ the presentation of laic patronages j was always reserved to the just and ancient pa- | trons.” — The church had formerly declared against i lay patronage, by laying down in her first Book of j Discipline, as already noticed, the broad general j principle, that “it appertained to the people and \ to every several congregation to elect their minister. ’ ’ 1 In adverting, therefore, to the fact of their submit- ; ting to a system under which lay patronage was to j j be maintained, it is due to the Reformers to state, that the evil was at that time confined within com- I paratively narrow limits. “ Of the parochial bene- fices of Scotland, amounting to nearly 1000, all ! except 262 had been annexed permanently, by j THE SCOTS j grant of the patrons, to abbacies and other religious institutions which came in place of the rector, and j as such drew the tithes ; while the spiritual duty was performed either by a member of the establish- ment, or a stipendiary substitute or curate, paid by a salary, or at times by a vicar having right to vicarage tithes. All these appropriated parochial benefices were thus merged in the greater benefices to which they had been annexed, and the patron- age was altogether sunk and extinguished ; no pre- sentation being ever required to be made, the bene- fice being always full by the continued existence of the abbacy or other religious institution to which it had been granted. After the Reformation these greater benefices (abbacies, priories, See.) were erected into temporal lordships, in favour of pri- vate individuals, who were called “Lords of Erec- tion,” or “ Titulars,” being in titulo of the benefices so erected, including of course the whole annexed parochial benefices of the erected lordship. These individuals thus came into the same situation with the religious institutions ; being entitled, as titular rectors, to draw the tithe of their respective paro- chial benefices, under the obligation of providing the cure to be served. This obligation the lords of erection in very few instances fulfilled ; and the ministers serving the cure, though sometimes having a stipend from these parties, were generally sup- ported out of the fund of “ thirds,”* or the contri- butions of their flocks. In no case, however, had they any right to the benefice, but were mere sti- pendiaries ; and there was no room for any presenta- tion to the benefice, which was always filled by the titular and descended to his heirs. Accordingly, lord Stair, the highest authority in our law, with re- ference to these churches, says, that “ there were no patronages of all these kirks” Again, as to the 262 non-annexed, and therefore still patronate benefices, the patronage of a con- siderable number belonged to bishops or religious houses ; but by the Act 1567 it was only as to laic | patronages that the right of presentation was re- served, so that all those which had been in the pre- sentation of ecclesiastics now became free.”f There can be no doubt that this consideration avail- ed greatly in inducing the Reformers to tolerate the existence of patronage. Had faith been kept with the church, four-fifths, at least, of the parishes of * The name given to the proportion, nominally a third part of the ecclesiastical property, which was professedly appro- priated, after the Reformation, to the maintenance of the Reformed clergy. The great barons who seized on the residue, and who thus defeated, by their avarice, the patriotic schemes of the Reformers for the support of the poor, and the universal education of the people, were derisively termed by one of their own order “ my lords of the twa pairts. ” + Dunlop’s letter to Dean of Faculty, pp. 48, 49. WORTHIES. xxvii Scotland would have been entirely free from that unnatural and oppressive yoke. Falling to be re- gulated by ecclesiastical authority, they would have come under the rule which the church had already laid down, that the members of each congregation should elect their own minister; and, the “ examina- tion and admission” of all ministers being “only in the power of the kirk,” the whole proceeding would have been ordered and concluded in strict accord- ance with the great Scripture principles of the church’s own constitution. But in this case, as in every other, we see the force of the celebrated j maxim, “ obsta principiis” The little leaven soon j leavened the whole lump. Lay patronage, at first I limited to a small fraction of the parishes, was ' speedily extended over the whole kingdom. For, as the same writer already quoted from observes, “ After king James assumed the reins of govern- ment, he resorted to the practice of including a right of presenting to the annexed churches, in his erections of the greater benefices into temporal lordships, re-erecting the parochial benefices and subjecting them to patronage.”* But having seen how lay patronage, from a ! comparatively small beginning, gradually spread ! itself over all the parishes of Scotland, it will now j be necessary to mark how patronage opened the door for prelacy. It has been mentioned in a fore- going quotation, that the abbacies, priories, and other greater benefices, were after the Reformation erected into temporal lordships in favour of private individuals — court favourites or powerful barons ' eager to enrich themselves out of the spoils of the j popish church. This system and the train of gross ! abuses connected with it came in by degrees. The I dignitaries of the church of Rome, though disowned j by the nation, in 1560, as to their ecclesiastical functions, were allowed to retain two-thirds of the revenues which had formerly been attached to their office. As these larger benefices fell vacant by the j death or forfeiture of the popish prelates, the de- j j sign of the Reformers and the claim of the Reform- j J ed church, was, that they should be appropriated to the maintenance of the religious and literary establishments of the country. It was by such an j arrangement they prepared, and hoped to carry into execution, their noble and truly patriotic schemes for the diffusion of education and religious instruc- I tion, throughout the whole body of the people. To this proposition the court and the more avaricious portion of the nobility had from the first been re- solutely opposed. It stood too directly in the way of their own selfish and ambitious schemes. There was, however, a difficulty to be surmounted before * Dunlop’s letter, p. 49. xxviii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO these schemes could be realized. The revenues of the bishoprics were ecclesiastical property, held by an ecclesiastical tenure. To secularize them entirely, and all at once, was a step too bold even for rapa- city like theirs. And on the other hand, for secular men to hold these revenues, was to run too out- rageously in the face of law and justice. It is a somewhat singular and very memorable fact, that Scottish prelacy owed its rise, subsequently to the Reformation, to this dilemma of needy courtiers and rapacious feudal lords. It happened thus : Upon the execution of Hamilton the popish arch- bishop of St Andrews in 1571, the earl of Morton procured a gift of the archbishopric with power to dispose of its revenues. As events of this nature had for some time been anticipated, the expectants of these rich prizes had privately agreed upon a method, by which to make good their title to the booty. “ The expedient resolved on was, that the bishoprics and the other rich livings should be pre- sented to certain ministers, who, previous to their admission, should make over the principal part of the revenues to such noblemen as had obtained the patronage of them from the court.”* In prosecu- tion of this scheme, Morton, in violation of the law and constitution of the Reformed church, presented Douglas, rector of the University of St Andrews, to the archbishopric. Morton had the effrontery to ask Knox to inaugurate Douglas. Instead of consenting, the intrepid Reformer pronounced an anathema against both the giver and the receiver of this prelatic dignity. The transaction was dis- creditable to both parties alike ; if there was sacri- lege on the one side, there was simony on the other. The light in which the sort of bastard prelacy thus introduced was universally regarded, may be ga- thered from the quaint and pithy note of a sermon preached by Patrick Adamson, shortly thereafter, and which is preserved in James Melville’s singu- larly interesting diary. “ I heard a sermont of his the ouk after the Bischope was maid, upon ane extraordinar day, that he might haiff the greater audience ; wherein he made thrie sorts of Bis- choppes : My Lord Bischop, My Lord’s Bischop, and the Lord’s Bischope. ‘My Lord Bischope,’ says he, ‘ was in the Papistrie ; my Lord’s Bischope is now, when my Lord getts the benefice and the Bischope serves for na thing but to mak his tytle sure : and the Lord’s Bischope is the true Minister of the Gospel.’ ” f The sarcastic description thus given of “ my Lord’s Bischop,” was so literally true, that the people very soon learned to give those who so degraded themselves and betrayed their church, the appropriate name of Tulchans. “These Bish- * M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, Yol. II., p. 197. + Melville’s Diary, Wodrow edition, p. 32. L ___ ops,” observes Calderwood, “ were called Tulchan Bishops. A Tulchan is a calvis skinne stuffed with straw, to caus the kow give milke. For the lords gott the benefices, and presented suche a man as would be content with the least commoditie, and | sett the rest in fewes, tacks, pensions, to them or theirs.”* Nor do they seem to have been treated with much ceremony by those whose creatures they were, when they failed in any case to serve the base purpose for which they were designed. There is an anecdote related in Melville’s diary respecting Boyd, who upon this same simoniacal system had been made bishop of Glasgow, which sufficiently illustrates this remark. “ This Mr James Boid,” says he, “ was a gentleman of the Lord Boid’s kin, a guid man, and lover of lerning and lernd men, inducit be his chieff to tak the bishopric, the gift whereof the said Lord Boid, being a graitt coun- sellor to the regent, haid purchasit for his commo- ditie: bot within a yeir or twa, when he fund nocht his Bischope plyable to his purpose, he caust his sone, the Maister of Boid, tak the Castell and intromit with all thairin, keepe it, and gather upe the rents of the bishoprik to intertein the saming ; and this was done impune , notwithstanding the Regent’s streat justice, because the Tulchan causit nocht the kow giff milk aneuche to my Lord.”f The system thus begun by Morton speedily became general. As the death or forfeiture of the Romish dignitaries left the greater benefices and rich livings which they still held to fall vacant, they were now openly conferred on men of rank and in- fluence, — on men who had neither the qualifications nor the desire to exercise any spiritual function. In this way pluralities multiplied. Schemes of per- sonal aggrandizement and ambition were prosecuted at the expense of trampling on all the sanctities of the ministry, and on the most valued rights and privileges of the church. An instance of this latter kind took place in the case of the very first of the Tulchan bishops, Douglas of St Andrews, to which it may not be unimportant to refer, as serving to bring out the clear and well-defined views that were already held on the grand question, which, both in ancient and modern times, has entered so deeply into the coq^endings of the Church of Scotland — the question of the separate and independent juris- diction of the church of Christ. It has been noticed in a former part of this Essay, that the fund out of which the ministry of the Reformed church was at this period maintained was known by the name of the “ thirds,” a third part of the ecclesiastical revenues formerly belonging to the church of Rome having | been at least nominally set apart for this purpose. | * Calderwood, Wodrow edition, Yol. IV., pp. 207, 208. + Melville’s Diary, Wodrow edition, pp. 47, 48. THE SCOTS The collectors of the church were interdicted from levying this portion of the tithes of the archbishop- ric of St Andrews by the earl, of Morton, because they refused ,to pay over the amount to his crea- ture Douglas. It was on this occasion one of the most eminent of the Scots Worthies of that or any subsequent age, Erskine of Dun, addressed an earnest remonstrance to the regent Mar, with whose concurrence the proceedings of Morton had been carried on. “ There is,” says he, “ a spiritual jurisdiction and power which God has given unto his Kirk and to them that bear office therein; and there is a temporal jurisdiction and power given of God to kings and civil magistrates. Both the powers are of God, and most agreeing to the fortifying one of the other if they be right used. But when the corruption of man enters in, con- founding the offices, usurping to himself what he pleases, nothing regarding the good order appointed of God, then confusion follows in all estates. The Kirk of God should fortify all lawful power and authority that pertains to the civil magistrate, be- cause it is the ordinance of God ; but if he pass the bounds of his office and enter within the sanc- tuary of the Lord, meddling with such things as appertain to the ministers of God’s Kirk, then the servants of God should withstand his unjust enter- prise; for so are they commanded of God.”* The progress of this struggle strikingly showed i how the toleration of one abuse paves the way for the introduction of another. Lay patronage, that root of bitterness which was left behind when the church first entered formally into connexion with the state, in 1567, grew up and increased until it overspread the whole church. Its existence both tempted and enabled those who obtained grants of ecclesiastical property to introduce prelacy. Had lay patronage had no existence in the Reformed church ; had the principles of the First Book of Discipline been from the beginning insisted on as those on which alone any ecclesiastical officebearer could be cho- sen, the Tulchan scheme would have found an ob- j stacle in its way which nothing short of the church’s overthrow could have removed. Lay patronage was the patent doorway at which the world intruded • into the church, at which a power purely secular and earthly came in to domineer over the spiritual affairs of the sanctuary. It is true that the nobles and courtiers on whom the greater benefices had been conferred were violating the law and consti- tution of the church, when, in order to carry out their selfish ends, they took upon them to present men to the vacant sees, bringing prelacy into a presbyterian church, f But the existence of lay # Hetherington’s History of the Church of Scotland, p. 127. *t* The presentation of the bishops to their sees ran in the WORTHIES. xxix patronage, the recognition of a right founded on the mere possession of property or feudal lordship, to nominate men to offices purely spiritual, could I not fail both to encourage and facilitate the Tulchan scheme. And both patronage and prelacy were the grand pretexts on which the civil power founded i its Erastian interference with the liberties of the i church. It has been remarked in a former part of this j Essay, that when the church’s struggle for evangeli- , cal doctrine was at its height, the Lord suddenly ! brought a mighty auxiliary into the field, in the person of John Knox. Soon after her second | great contest, her struggle for a scriptural system j of policy, had begun to assume a serious and alarming form, that eminent servant of God, en- feebled by age, and worn down with incessant toil, was withdrawn from a world of sin and strife to the holy and peaceful “ rest which remaineth for the people of God.” Nor is it possible to read the history of those discouraging events connected with the Church of Scotland, which immediately pre- ceded and followed his death, without being made deeply sensible what a loss the cause of truth and righteousness sustained, when his powerful mind and dauntless courage were no longer present. But the same watchful and gracious Providence that called him forth at the very period when the work, which he of all men was most qualified to perform, stood most in need of his aid, now again, at a moment equally critical, interposed. After an absence of ten years from his native land, Andrew j Melville, in 1574, arrived in Scotland. The repu- tation he had earned abroad may be gathered from the observation of Beza, then, perhaps, the most learned and renowned of the continental divines, i who, in a letter to the General Assembly of the j Church of Scotland, written when Melville left ! Switzerland to return home, makes this significant j remark, “ that the greatest token of affection the Kirk of Geneva could show to Scotland, was that they had suffered themselves to be deprived of Mr i Andrew Melville.” What rendered his presence in his own country | peculiarly seasonable and necessary was, the cir- j cumstance that Morton was now the regent of I Scotland. It may be readily supposed that the founder of j the system of Tulchan bishops would not be less J likely to prosecute his Erastian encroachments on I the church’s constitution and liberties, now that he j had gained the seat of power and had in his hands j the government of the kingdom. His daring and j determined character must in any position have | name of the regent, though they were, of course, the nominees of those on whom the revenues of the sees had been conferred. XXX HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO made him a formidable antagonist. And, perhaps, when a few days after his appointment to the regency, he attended Knox’s funeral, and pro- ■ nounced over the Reformer’s grave the well-known eulogy, u There lies he that never feared the face of man,” it was with a secret satisfaction that the grand obstacle to his selfish and ambitious schemes was now but of the way. He had yet to learn that the quiver of Zion’s King was not emptied of its arrows. In the struggle for Bible doctrine the queen regent was no match for Knox. In the 1 struggle for Bible discipline even Morton proved no match for Andrew Melville. If Morton loved his Tulchan scheme for the sake of its pecuniary results, he loved it, if possible, still more for the facilities it promised to afford in ac- 1 complishing his despotic purpose of subverting the independence of the church. The correspondence i into which he had entered with queen Elizabeth taught him how serviceable bishops were likely to be, in bringing ecclesiastical affairs into harmony ! with the wishes of the court. It seems to have been for this reason that, while the priories and | abbacies of the Romish church, as has been already noticed, were, for the most part, erected into tem- poral lordships and conferred on the favourites of the crown, this course was not followed with the Romish bishoprics. From the outset of the Refor- mation, it is probable the court secretly designed to restore prelacy, though it was not till the regency of Morton the design was vigorously prosecuted. Had the object been simply to seize the episcopal revenues, the simpler and more effectual plan would i have been to deal with them as they dealt with the abbacies and priories, to have secularized them at once. But as the thing to be secured was to com- bine the plundering of the revenues of the bishops with the preservation of their office, the Tulchan scheme was devised. The degraded functionaries, to whom that appellation was so fitly given, enabled Morton to indulge both his avarice and his ambi- tion. As the creatures of the court they paid over to their masters the greater part of the revenues of their sees, while they made their office itself a tool to serve the political ends of the ruler of the day. The end of the wedge, by means of which this prelatic and Erastian system was designed to rend in pieces the constitution and liberties of the Re- formed church, was introduced in 1572, at the con- vention of Leith. The body of superintendents and ministers which the regent of that day (Lennox) had there convened, unhappily and unwarrantably ! took to itself the authority and functions of a General Assembly, and gave its consent, under the pressure of adverse influences, that for the present } the titles of the bishops and archbishops and the bounds of their dioceses should remain as formerly. They expressly stipulated, however, at the same time, that whoever might be appointed to these prelatic offices should have no higher jurisdiction ! in the church than the superintendents had previ- ously enjoyed; and should, like them, be subject in all spiritual matters to the General Assemblies , of the church. But for this important reservation, the sort of quasi sanction thus irregularly given, to a kind of nondescript prelacy, must have led to con- sequences still more pernicious than those to which it actually gave rise. It was on the footing of that supremacy, thus reserved to the General Assemblies, that the church found the chief means of defending herself against the machinations of the court. The convention of Leith had smoothed the court’s way, in so far as the creating of bishops and there- by possessing itself indirectly of the episcopal revenues was concerned. But the right of the Assembly to control these bishops remained as a point of defence when they came to be employed as the court’s tools for Erastianizing the church. Such was the posture of affairs when Melville returned to Scotland, — Morton at the height of his power, pushing with his wonted energy the advan- tage the convention of Leith had given to his fa- vourite scheme, — the church roused to a sense of its danger, and doing its utmost to resist the conse- quences of that all but fatal error. As evangelical truth seemed quivering in the balance when the providential appearance of Knox so triumphantly turned the scales, so scriptural discipline, the in- dependence of the church’s government as a spiritual kingdom, was in a state of equal peril when Melville arrived. Nor was Morton blind to the influence which this great man was likely to exert. The regent met him with smiles and courtesies, and sought with much skill and assiduity to buy off with court favour one whose opposition he foresaw could not fail to be formidable. But Melville was as little moved by bribes and flattery, as his subsequent history showed him to be indifferent to threats and persecution. At the first meeting of the General Assembly that took place after Melville’s return, steps were taken to prepare a more perfect scheme of church policy; and dissatisfaction with the state in which ecclesiastical affairs had been left by the convention at Leith was unequivocally indicated. In a second Assembly which met the same year, August 1575, the question was openly raised and discussed : “ Have bishops, as they are now in Scot- land,’ their function from the word of God or not; and ought the chapters appointed for electing them to be tolerated in a Reformed church?” Here the grand test, the infallible rule of faith and manners, is brought to bear on prelacy, the church evincing THE SCOTS WORTHIES. its determination to decide the point by that rule alone. At the Assembly of the succeeding year, a step, still more decidedly in advance, was taken, when this deliverance was adopted by the House : “ That the name of bishop is common to all who are appointed to take charge of a particular flock I in preaching the word, administering the sacra- ments, and exercising discipline with the consent of their elders, and that this is their chief function according to the word of God.” It is easy to un- derstand how offensive such proceedings were to the haughty regent. Speaking of this period in his diary, James Melville quaintly observes that Morton “ could nocht suffer Chryst to reing frielie be re- buking of sinne, bot maid opposition to the minis- [ trie of Edinbruche in public place; nor be the right I government of his Kirk be the Presbyterie of his lawfullie callit pastors and elders; mislyked the Assemblies Generali, and would haiff had the name thairof changit that he might abolische the privilege and force thairof, wharunto my uncle, Mr Andro, speciallie opponit himself and thairby, and for the Bischops, incurrit his speciall indignation.”* It was about this period that well-known incident oc- curred which illustrated so strikingly the intolerance of Morton on the one hand, and the high principle and indomitable spirit of Melville on the other. Having tried to bend the integrity of Melville by offers of preferment, and having found, to his bitter disappointment, that even the mitre of St Andrews j had no charms to allure the honest presbyterian j from the path of duty, he had recourse to the more characteristic expedient of threatening him with his high displeasure. Hearing that the Assembly were I in the course of adopting some measures that were | calculated to cross his designs, he sent for Melville, j When the Reformer appeared, the regent began by j expatiating on the importance of preserving the ; peace of the kingdom, and insinuated that it was now in danger from the attempts certain individuals were making to bring in their own foolish conceits, or the laws of foreign churches to regulate the ecclesiastical affairs of Scotland. To all this Mel- ville calmly replied, that he and his brethren were looking in all that they did to the word of God as their only guide, as the authority which alone must direct them in all spiritual things. Morton next attacked the Assembly as having no right to con- vene but by the allowance of the king, and called it treason so to assemble the king’s lieges without his permission. If so, answered Melville, then must | Christ and his apostles have been guilty of treason ; I for they unhesitatingly convocated multitudes, and ; taught and governed them, without asking the con- * Melville’s Diary, p. 61, Wodrow edition. xxxi j sent of the civil power. And that, moreover, all this involved no disloyalty or want of respect to the secular authorities, seeing that the Lord Jesus ever commanded that the people should render unto Cesar the things that were Cesar’s. Finding he ! had so little success in argument, and impatient at | the resistance so calmly but resolutely offered to his j despotic schemes, the regent at length gave way to | the natural haughtiness and impetuosity of his char- acter ; and biting the head of his staff, and speak- ing in tones which few that knew the man could have heard without alarm, he exclaimed : “ There | will never be quietness in this country till half a I dozen of you be hanged or banished !” — Tush, Sir, | replied Melville, threaten your courtiers after that manner. It is the same to me whether I rot in j ! the air or in the ground. The earth is the Lord’s, j Patria est ubicumque est bene. I have been ready j to give my life where it would not have been half j so well wared, at the pleasure of my God. I have ! | lived out of your country ten years as well as in it. j Let God be glorified, it will not be in your power j to hanji or exile his truth.”* The insolence of ; i power was rebuked by the high daring of Christian i principle and conscious integrity. As Hainan of I old began to fall from the day he committed him- ! self against the people of God, so did it fare with ! the regent Morton. All his sagacity and courage, rank and influence, could not protect him from the machinations of those enemies who laboured in- i cessantly to secure the overthrow of his power. I j Within a few months after his interview with Mel- ! ville had indicated his determination to push mat- j [ ters to extremity against the friends of truth and i Reformation, he was compelled to resign the regency. And although he subsequently regained for a brief period an ascendency over the mind and counsels of the youthful sovereign, James I., who, in the twelfth year of his age had the reins of gov- ernment placed in his hands, this gleam of return- | ing prosperity did not long endure. The court favourites, who now surrounded the young king, rested not till they had compassed Morton’s death. He was beheaded upon a charge of treason, in 1581 ; j nor can I deny myself, or the reader, the gratifica- j tion of here introducing a singularly graphic and touching passage on the subject of his death from | the diary of James Melville. “ In the monthe of May he was brought till Edinbruche and keepe in Robin Gourlayis house with a band of men of wear : j and the very dayes of his putting to assizee and execution I happened to be ther in Edinbruche, and heard and saw the notablest example bathe of God’s judgment and mercie that to my knowledge * M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol. I., pp. 148, 149. XXXII HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO ever fell out in my tyme. For in that Tolbuthe, whar oftentymes during his government he had wrysted and thrawn judgment, partly for gean wharto he was gein, and partlie for particular favor, ! was his judgment overthrown ; and he who above | anie Scotsman had maist gear, friendschipe, and ! clientell, had nane to speak a word for him that day, | but the graittest part of his assyzors being his I knawin unfriends he was condemned to be headit | on a skaffauld : and that head quhilk was sa wittie | in warldlie affairres and polecie, and haid commandit j with sic authoritie and dignitie within that toun and judgment seat, to be sett upe on a prick upon the hichest stane of the geavell of the Tolbuthe; that is towards the publict streit. The quhilk j sentence, in my sight, was put in execution upon ! the morne. But in grait mercie when the Lord I haid stryped him naked and bare of all these things j warldlie, and of a cable made a twynde thride, to go in at the narrow ei of that needle, he guiff him, after unfeiynit repentance, sic faithe and assurance of his favour in Chryst, that he maist magnanimouslie contemned insulting of enemies, bewaling of friends, all warldlie dignitie, riches and pleasures, and tuk i him with his Chryst, be deathe to overcome and gett the crown of lyff. * * * * He keepit the j same countenance, gesteur, and schort sententious i form of language upon the skaffalde, quhilk he usit I in his princlie government. He spak, — set about | and urgit be the commanders, — at the four newkes of the skaffald : but after that ance he haid verre feetfullie and gravelie uttered, at guid lainthe that i quhilk he had to speak, thairafter almaist he al- ! tered nocht thir words : “ It is for my sinnes that ; God has justlie brought me to this place, for gif I haid servit my God als trewlie as I did my king I haid nocht come heir. Bot as for that I am con- demned for be men, I am innocent as God knows. Pray for me.”* It was almost immediately after his resignation of the regency, in the year 1578, the General i Assembly completed, approved, and adopted the great standard of ecclesiastical policy, commonly called the Second Book of Discipline ; “ the quhilk,” says James Melville, “because this declining age is beginning to forget and slip fra,” he thought good to insert entire in his diary. If we do not follow his laudable example here, it is not certainly because the present age is less in need, than the men of his time were, of instruction on the great questions of which this standard treats. The late disruption of the Established Church, and the Erastian decisions of the courts of law and of the supreme legislature, which led to that memorable event, sufficiently * Melville’s Diary. show that Morton and king James were not more hostile to the principles of a scriptural church policy than are the lawyers and politicians of the nineteenth century. The nature and design of this Essay manifestly require a special notice of this im- j portant work, — a work, the completion of which, j together with the assertion and vindication of the j principles it imbodies, we have described as con- J stituting the second branch of the church’s conflict | ! for the supremacy of Scripture, as the one infallible j rule to which her doctrine and discipline must be j conformed. It was remarked before, that it ought to be re- garded as a kind interposition of Providence that hindered the settlement of the great subject of church policy in 1560, when the Reformers first | brought it under the consideration of the estates of j parliament. There can be no doubt in the mind of j any one who has examined the ecclesiastical history I of those times, that while the legislature, addressed J by Knox and his colleagues, were both ignorant of, | and altogether averse to, the scriptural view of the J question, the Reformed church herself had not then j had occasion so thoroughly to study it, as to have | been in a favourable position for maintaining a con- troversy regarding it. The struggle of two and thirty years with the doctrinal errors of the church of Rome had thoroughly qualified her for a clear and comprehensive testimony on those truths which immediately concern the way of salvation ; and a process not dissimilar in its nature, and equally pro- longed, was the means by which she was destined to be trained to a like maturity on all that relates to the church’s constitution and government, and i to the relation which these bear to the kingdoms and governments of this world. What Cardinal Beaton and the queen regent had done to sift the Reformed church’s doctrine from every remnant of j popery, Morton and king James were equally in- | strumental in doing to sift her policy from every J vestige of Erastianism. The individuals who had been intrusted with the weighty and responsible task of preparing the Book of Policy were the elite of the church ; they were nominated by the Assembly of 1576, and were se- lected from different districts of the country, so as to secure in their consultations on the subject a full representation of the wisdom, piety, and learn • ! ing of the whole church. Those from the west country were, James, Bishop of Glasgow, Mr Andrew Melville, Mr Andrew Hay, Mr James Greig, Mr David Cunningham; for Lothian, Mr Robert Pont, Mr James Lawson, Mr David Lind- say; and along with them Mr Clement Little, and Mr Alexander Sim, lawyers; for Fyfe, Mr John Winrara, superintendent, with the principal masters THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xxxiii of the university of St Andrews ; for Mearns and ; Angus, Erskine of Dun, Mr William Christison, Mr John Row, Mr William Rhind, Mr John Duncan- son ; for Aberdeen, Mr J ohn Craig, and Mr Alex- ander Arbuthnot.* The result of their deliberations was that noble form of ecclesiastical polity of which M‘Crie has justly said, that “it has secured the cordial and lasting attachment of the people of Scotland. Whenever it has been wrested from them by arbitrary violence, they have uniformly embraced the first favourable opportunity of demanding its restoration ; and the principal secessions which have been made from the national church in this part of the kingdom have been stated, not in the way of dissent from its constitution as in England, but in opposition to departures, real or alleged, from its original and genuine principles.”! The work on which so competent an authority has pronounced this merited eulogium is not more remarkable for the profoundness of its views, than for the logical accuracy with which they are arranged. Beginning with a brief definition of the church, it proceeds to state the origin and object of all ecclesi- astical power. “ This power ecclesiastical,” it says, “is an authority granted by God the Father, through the Mediator Jesus Christ, unto His church gathered and having its ground in the word of God ; to be put in execution by them unto whom the spiritual government of the church, by lawful call- ing, is committed.” The paragraphs of this in- troductory chapter which follow, and which are designed to point out the relation of the church of Christ to the civil power, and to draw the line of demarcation between them, seem clearly to indicate the hand of Erskine of Dun, whose earnest and ad- mirable remonstrance on this very point, addressed to the regent Mar, in 1571, we have already quoted. Those who have studied the controversy which originated the Free Church of Scotland, can hardly fail to notice that it turned entirely on those clear and scriptural views of the constitution of the church of Christ, which more than two centuries and a half ago were laid down in the Second Book of Discip- line. “This power and policy ecclesiastical,” it observes, “ is different and distinct in its own nature from that power and policy which is called the civil power, and appertains to the civil government of the commonwealth; albeit *hey be both of God, and tend to one end if they be rightly used; to wit, to advance the glory of God, and to have godly and good subjects. For, this power ecclesiastical flows immediately from God and the Mediator Jesus Christ, and is spiritual, not having a temporal head on earth but only Christ, the only spiritual King * Melville’s Diary, Wodrow edition, p. 55. t M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Yol. I., p. 125. 1 and Governor of his church. * * * * There- fore this power and policy of the church should lean upon the word immediately, as the only ground thereof, and should be taken from the pure foun- tains of the Scriptures, the church hearing the voice of Christ and being ruled by his laws.” Having thus, with admirable precision, set forth the church’s relation to Christ, and her obligation, in all her proper affairs, to be guided implicitly by his divine word; the Book of Policy, for the further clearing of this fundamental point, places over against one another the respective provinces and functions of the church and of the civil power, marking the ex- tent and the limits of both, and that with a com- prehensiveness and an accuracy which leave nothing to be desired. “ As the ministers and others of the ecclesiastical estate are subject to the magistrate civil, so ought the person of the magistrate to be subject to the church spiritually and in ecclesiastical government. And the exercise of both these jurisdictions cannot stand in one person ordinarily. The civil power is called the power of the sword ; and the other the power of the keys. “ The civil power should command the spiritual j to exercise and do their office according to the word of God; the spiritual rulers should require the Christian magistrate to minister justice and punish vice, and to maintain the liberty and quiet- ness of the church within their bounds. “ The magistrate commands external things for external peace and quietness among the subjects ; the minister handles external things only for con- j science’ cause. “ The magistrate handles external things only, ! and actions done before men; but the spiritual ruler judges both inward affections and external j actions, in respect of conscience, by the word of j God. “ The civil magistrate craves and gets obedience by the sword and other external means ; but the ministry by the spiritual sword and spiritual means. “ The magistrate neither ought to preach, minis- j ter the sacraments, nor yet prescribe any rule how t it should be done, but command the ministers to observe the rule commanded in the word and punish j the transgressors by civil means.* The ministry exercise not the civil jurisdiction; but teach the magistrate how it should be exercised according to ! the word. “ The magistrate ought to assist, maintain, and fortify the jurisdiction of the church. The minis- ters should assist their prince in all things agreeable * As for example, by depriving ministers deposed by the church for proper ecclesiastical offences, of the civil emolu- ments granted by the state. e xxxiv HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO to the word, providing they neglect not their own charge by involving themselves in civil affairs. “Finally, as ministers are subject to the judg- ment and punishment of the magistrate in external things, if they offend, so ought the magistrates to submit themselves to the discipline of the church, if they transgress in matters of conscience and religion.” A more thorough and yet concise exposition than these paragraphs contain was perhaps never given, of all that is involved in that memorable command, “ Render unto Cesar the things that are Cesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.” They strike the golden, because the scriptural mean, between the spiritual despotism, in the exercise of which popery would enslave the state to the church; and the Erastian oppression, by the force of which the state would bend the church into a mere tool of the civil power. The divine origin and authority of both ordinances — the church and the state — are fully owned ; their distinct provinces and functions are clearly laid down ; their mutual duties and their individual independence are defined and declared. In a word, that very constitution of things for which the Church of Scotland so strenuously contended is here fully set forth. In the one we see the exact image of the other. Having thus carefully defined the nature and limits of church power, and having with such remarkable clearness and precision “redd the marches” between the civil and ecclesiastical juris- dictions, this admirable standard points out in its Second Chapter the “ persons or officebearers to whom the administration is committed.” “ There be three extraordinary functions, the office of the apostle, of the evangelist, and of the prophet, which are not perpetual, and now have ceased in the church of God, except when it pleased God extraordinarily to stir up some of them again. There are four ordinary functions or offices in the church of God, the office of the pastor, minister or bishop; the doctor; the presbyter or elder; and the deacon.” Here prelacy is explicitly repudiated, and that parity of rank and authority among the ministers of the gospel which is the characteristic of presby- terianism is laid down. The Third Chapter takes up the question : “ How the persons that bear ecclesiastical functions are admitted to their office?” As in the first chapter so much pains was bestowed to assert and vindicate the crown rights of the church’s Head, so here a becoming solicitude is evinced to guard the purchased liberties and privi- leges of his people. The ordinary calling of the church’s officebearers is declared to consist “in the calling of God, and the testimony of a good con- science.” together with “ the lawful approbation and outward judgment of men.” This latter, or i outward calling, is explained as being made up of two things, election and ordination ; election is de- scribed as the choosing out of a person or persons ; most qualified for the vacant office “ by the judg- ment of the eldership (presbytery) and consent of the congregation;” and it is added, as a general and fundamental rule to be observed in all cases, “ that no person be intruded into any of the offices of the church, contrary to the will of the congrega- tion to which they are appointed, or without the voice of the eldership.” At first sight it might j seem as if in these words there was a receding from 1 the ground taken up in the First Book of Discipline, in which it was expressly laid down, that “ it apper- i taineth to the people and to every several congre- J 1 gation to elect their minister.” It has been alleged, ' indeed, that the First Book of Discipline never was ; ratified, even by the church herself, and that now j it was entirely superseded by the Second Book 1 j adopted in 1578. On this subject, Dr M‘Crie, a j witness of the very highest authority, remarks in j his evidence taken before the anti-patronage com- ' mittee of the House of Commons in 1835 : “I have a number of passages marked down which, i } I think, in the most distinct manner prove that it 1 1 was ratified by the church as an authority in eight i or ten General Assemblies, from the second Assem- j bly to 1571 ; it is mentioned once in the minutes of j almost every meeting of Assembly, often thrice, i four times, and more frequently.”* And further, j j to the question “ Did the Second Book of Discip- j line set aside the first, or establish a different mode from it as to the election of ministers ?” — Dr M‘Crie ! | replies, “ I do not think that the First Book of j j Discipline was supplanted by the Second. * * * * j j Nor do I think that the Second Book of Discipline ■ ; lays down any doctrine on the subject of the elec- i tion of ministers, substantially different from the | j first.” The apparent difference he proves to arise | j from the circumstance, that the Second Book com- i j prehends under the one term “election” that which 1 the First Book divided into two points, election and examination. And he adds in further explana- tion of the point, “that the jurisdiction of the church j was called in question at this time by the court : and as this jurisdiction had been ratified by parlia- i ment, the Assembly, by declaring that election and examination belong to this jurisdiction, at once asserted their own rights, and took the liberties of the people under their wing.”f It were out of place in this Essay to adduce the arguments and authorities by which Dr M‘Crie sup- ports these views. Suffice it to say, they appear thor- * Minutes of Evidence, p. 358. f Minutes of Evidence, p. 358. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. XXXV ougkly to bear out his conclusion that the Second ! Book of Discipline takes up substantially the same ground, on the question of the election of ministers, which the First Book had so clearly laid down. One thing it is highly important to notice in connexion with this subject, and that is, the judgment this standard of church policy pronounces regarding the whole system of lay patronage. Being a yoke imposed upon the church by an external power, no mere decision of the ecclesiastical courts could re- move it. But among those “ special heads of re- formation” which in this Book of Policy the church craved, was this explicit statement in reference to patronage. “ Because this order which God’s word craves (i. e. as to the liberties of the people and the courts of the church in electing ministers) cannot stand with patronages and presentations to benefices used in the pope’s church, we desire all them that truly fear God earnestly to consider that, foras- much as patronages and benefices, together with the effect thereof, have flowed from the pope and corruption of the canon law only, in so far as thereby any person was intruded or placed over churches having curam animarum. And forasmuch as that manner of proceeding has no ground in the word of God, but is contrary to the same, and to the said liberty of election-, they ought not now to have place in this fight of reformation.” The Fourth Chapter defines the nature and duties of the pastoral office. The Fifth Chapter treats of the office of the doctors or teachers of theology. The Sixth Chapter “ of elders and their office;” that is, of those elders who are appointed “to rule,” 1 but not “ to labour in word and doctrine.” The Seventh Chapter in due order proceeds to the consideration of those ecclesiastical courts, in and through which the officebearers of the church are to exercise their spiritual government ; and states that of these there j are four sorts : — the congregational court or kirk- session ; the district courts, as presbyteries or I synods; the national court or General Assembly; j the universal or oecumenical council, composed of the representatives of all true Christian churches. The duties devolving on each of these are concisely laid down, and the final end of them all is declared to be “ first to keep the religion and doctrine in purity without error and corruption; next to keep come- ! finess and good order in the church.” The Eighth I Chapter discusses the office of deacons ; the Ninth ! treats of the patrimony of the church. The Tenth j returns to the grand question which in its more ! general bearings was so fully expounded in the intro- ductory chapter; the relation, viz., of the church to the civil power. The title of this important chapter is, “ Of the office of a Christian magistrate in the church;” and while the Second Book of | Discipline here readily accords to such, and requires of him all which the Reformers held that Scripture had given him — the right and duty of “ maintaining, fostering, upholding, and defending the church, against all that would procure the hurt thereof,” — there is the same care bestowed to discriminate his functions as a civil ruler, from those which pro- perly and exclusively belong to the courts of the j church. It concedes to him a power circa sacra but none in sacris. It belongs to him “ to make laws and constitutions agreeable to God’s word, for advancement of the church and policy thereof,” but always “ without usurping anything that pertains not to the civil sword, but belongs to the affairs that are merely ecclesiastical; as is the ministry of the word and sacraments, using of ecclesi- astical discipline and the spiritual execution thereof; or any part of the power of the spiritual keys, which our Master gave to the apostles and then- [ true successors.” The eleventh Chapter reviews “the present abuses j remaining in the church.” Among these a promi- I nent place is assigned to that whole mongrel system which was sanctioned by the Convention at Leith, j and which bred so much trouble and peril to the church. In the Twelfth Chapter are enumerated certain special heads of reformation which the church thereby pledged herself to seek, one of the chiefest of which, as has been already noticed, was the abolition of Lay Patronage ; and finally, the closing chapter of the work, adverting to the mani- fold advantages which the recognition and enforce- ment of this noble standard of policy might be ex- pected to bring, both in the way of promoting the honour and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ, the im- j provement of other churches, the comfort of the poor, the prosperity of the people, the safety of the king and country, thus concludes : “all being wil- ! ling to apply themselves to this order, the people suffering themselves to be ruled according thereto : the princes and magistrates not being exempt, and 1 those that are placed in the ecclesiastical estate, rightly ruling and governing, God shall be glorified, the church edified, and the bounds thereof enlarged, Christ Jesus and his kingdom set up, Satan and his j kingdom subverted, and God shall dwell in the midst of us, to our comfort, through Jesus Christ, who, together with the Father and the Holy Ghost, abide blessed in all eternity. Amen !” Such is the Second Book of Discipline. Its char- acteristic feature is undoubtedly the clear and un- qualified assertion which it makes of the church’s j spiritual independence, of her right and duty to! take direction in her spiritual affairs, only from the I pure fountains of the Scriptures, “hearing the! voice of Christ, and being ruled by His laws.' ! XXXVI HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO Founded on and flowing out of this fundamental truth, a distinct recognition is made of the privi- leges of the Christian people. These privileges have been invaded and overborne in other churches chiefly in two ways, — by the despotism of prelacy on the one hand, and by the usurpations of lay patron- age on the other. Against both of these sources of oppression, the Second Book of Discipline lifts up a solemn protest, denouncing them as forbidden by the word of God, and therefore to be repudiated by every church which desires to regulate her consti- tution and government by the only infallible rule of faith and manners. These are unquestionably the salient points of this great standard of church policy ; and here accordingly it may be truly said, we have an epitome of the principles for which the Scottish Worthies chiefly suffered, and a conclusive proof of their substantial identity with those which have distinguished the memorable controversy of our own times. This will sufficiently appear as we now proceed with our Historical Sketch of these events in which the principles of the Second Book of Discipline were put to the test. The church having now fairly taken her stand on those scriptural views of policy, which her Second Book of Discipline so clearly laid down, proceeded resolutely to put them in force. Tulchan prelacy having been the court’s grand instrument for break- ing down her presbyterian constitution and her spiritual discipline, her first efforts were directed to the overthrow of that corrupt and disgraceful institution. For this purpose the General Assembly, of 1580, passed an act condemning prelatic episco- pacy, as having no warrant from the word of God, and requiring peremptorily all those who had ac- cepted the office of bishop to demit the same imme- diately. Such was the influence exerted by this unanimous decision of the supreme ecclesiastical court, that, within the same year, all the bishops but five submitted themselves to its authority. It was now evident that the Tulchan scheme was on the eve of being completely overturned, and along with it all hope of Erastianizing the church. But the court had no mind to abandon the contest, and, accord- ingly, a very memorable, and in reference to the I object of this Essay, a highly instructive collision between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities en- sued. It arose, in 1581, out of the well-known case of Robert Montgomery, — a case of which an eminent authority remarks, that it “ deserves particular attention; for it will be found that the very same question formed the main subject of dispute in all the subsequent contendings of the church, whatever shape or form these may have taken, just as it forms the real subject in dispute at present.”* The case * Dunlop’s Letter to the Dean of Faculty, p. 52. fell out thus : — On the death of Boyd, archbishop of Glasgow, in June, 1581, the duke of Lennox, the favourite of the day, obtained from the privy council a grant of the revenues of the vacant see. To make this grant available to the duke, one or other of two things was necessary : either the rev- enues of the archbishopric must be secularized and erected into a temporal lordship in the duke’s favour, as had been done in the case of the forfeited abbacies and priories, or some one must be found willing to be made the court’s tool, by accepting an ecclesiastical office which the church had expressly repudiated, and agreeing to reward his master for the dignity conferred on him by handing over the revenues to the duke. To have done the former would have been for the court to relinquish the attempt to set up prelacy. It would have been to give up the attack upon the church’s spiritual liber- ties, and to content itself with robbing her of her temporal goods. But, bent as the court was on having, not the property alone of the church, but the church herself under secular control, a deter- mination was evinced at all hazards to adhere to the Tulchan scheme ; and therefore the latter alternative was at once adopted. The court re- solved to fill up the archbishopric of Glasgow, and Robert Montgomery, then minister of Stirling, was the person selected to play this despicable and des- perate game. This resolution at once and inevitably brought the church into direct conflict with the civil power, and that on a point so radical and essential that to yield was impossible. The real question at issue was this : “ Is the state to decide for the church what shall be the form of her government?” The church acting on the great fundamental principle laid down in her Second Book of Discipline, that the “ policy of the church must lean on the word immediately,” — must be “taken from the pure fountains of the Scriptures,” — had come to the conclusion that prelacy is not sanctioned by that only infallible authority, and that presbytery on the other hand is of divine institution. In opposition to, and defiance of this solemn judgment, the civil power, represented by the privy council, virtually declared that the church must disregard “ the voice of Christ her only spiritual King,” and adopt pre- lacy at the bidding of Cesar. The state, it is true, j was not bound to adopt the church’s decision as its own; on the contrary, as a professedly Christian government, it was under an obligation to Him who is the King of nations, as well as King of Zion, to have exercised its own deliberate and independent judgment on this question of church government; j just as the estates of parliament, which represented ! the supreme civil power, in 1560, exercised their 1 1 judgment on the question of churqh doctrine. If, ! THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xxxvii after hearing the church upon the point, and using whatever other means of coming to a full and ma- ture decision it might think fit to employ, the result | should have been a conviction that not presbytery but prelacy was the divinely instituted form of church government, — what in this event would have been the state’s correct and lawful course of proceeding? Not certainly to overbear the church by force ; not to settle a question of Scripture prin- ciple as Brennus, the haughty invader of ancient Rome, proposed to settle a question of tribute by throwing his sword into the scale. If the mind of the church was to be changed, it could be so, legiti- mately, only by an appeal to Scripture. And if that appeal failed to bring both parties to one, the liberty of the state still remained entire. It might refuse to lend civil support to the church, because of her adherence to presbyterianism, and might reserve its countenance and aid for a prelatic church, should it be able to find one within the kingdom. But beyond this the state could not go without assuming the attitude and the arms of persecution. Keeping these general considerations in mind, it will at once be seen how vital was the struggle to which the case of Montgomery gave rise — and how direct is its bearing on the great controversy of the present times. It is not improbable the remark of James Melville was well founded, that there was popery as well as Erastianism at the back of this obstinate purpose of restoring prelacy. “ The great gydar wharof the j Due of Lennox, by Guisian counsall, and direction,” I says Melville, “nocht daring put at religion plean- lie, pressit the restoring of the esteat of Bischopes.”* Certain it is that in Scotland prelacy has ever ap- peared hand in hand both with popery and arbi- trary power. Montgomery, whose name, in connexion with this memorable transaction, has gained so unenvi- able a notoriety in Scotch ecclesiastical history, appears to have been like most tools, weak, vain, and unprincipled ; wanting either the conscience to refuse the bribe, or the sense to anticipate the con- j sequences of accepting it; but abounding in that | ambition and self-complacency which the dazzling offer of a mitre was so certain to allure. Having accepted the archbishopric pleno jure principis , and in direct contravention of the laws and authority of that church to which he had ! solemnly vowed obedience, he was straightway | summoned to the bar of the Assembly. The reader i will not fail to be struck with the exact parallelism, in every essential particular, between this case and that of the Youngs and Edwardses of our own * .Melville’s Diary, p. 118. times. The Assembly foreseeing the manifold evils and dangers that must arise from a conflict with the civil authority, employed every means in its power, on the one hand, to dissuade Montgomery from, committing himself to so reckless and rebellious a course ; and on the other, to satisfy the king and his council that, should he persist, they had no choice but to put the discipline of the church in force against him. The detail of their proceedings, as given in C alder wood,* sufficiently shows how little there was in the conduct of the men of those days, of that heat and rashness which ignorant and pre- judiced opponents have injuriously imputed to them. The Assembly prohibited him from further meddling with the archbishopric, ordained him to abide in his charge at Stirling, and remitted to the presbytery of the bounds to proceed farther against him if necessary, and to report their diligence to the Synod of Lothian. Montgomery, persisting in his unlawful purpose, his presbytery, in obedience to the orders of the Assembly, took immediate measures to prevent it ; and, having referred the case, as di- rected, to the Synod of Lothian, that court was charged by a messenger at Arms, at the instance of Montgomery, to desist from further prosecuting it, and was summoned, moreover, to appear before the privy council to answer for their conduct in at- tempting to stay the execution of the king’s order, appointing him to the forbidden office. The Synod immediately adopted a resolution, declining the privy council’s jurisdiction as in a matter foreign to their province. Having appointed certain of their mem- bers to appear and respectfully to intimate this declinature, John Dury, an eminent minister of that day, signified in their name that should Mont- gomery proceed further, they should feel themselves bound to subject him to the highest censures of the church. “We will not suffer you,” said the king, then a youth of but sixteen years of age, and utter- ing no doubt the sentiments his creatures had put into his mouth. “ We must obey God rather than man,” replied Dury, “ and pray God to remove evil company from about you. The welfare of the Kirk is your welfare: the more sharply vice be rebuked the better for you.” The king was then at Stirling, where Montgomery resided, and to make it manifest how little they were daunted by the threatenings of the court, they summoned the delinquent, before they left the town, to appear and answer for his conduct at the approaching General Assembly. At this Assembly, accordingly, which met at St Andrews in the month of April, 1582, a letter was handed in from his majesty, requiring that they * Yol. III., pp. 577 — 579, Wodrow edition. xxxviii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO should proceed no further in Montgomery’s case. To this, an answer was immediately returned, that they would handle nothing belonging to the civil power, but would act in the matter on their re- sponsibility to God. This method having failed to deter the Assembly from its duty, a more violent course was adopted. Scarcely had the case been entered on when a messenger at Arms appeared, and, “ by virtue of the king’s letters, delivered by | the lords of secret council and session, discharged i the moderator and his assessors, the brethren of the Assembly, to direct any citation against Mr Robert : Montgomery to excommunicate, slander, or trouble him in his ministry, for aspiring to the bishopric of Glasgow ; or for calling or pursuing of his brethren for the same, or for any promise made theveanent, jor any other thing depending thereupon in time ! bygone, under the pains of rebellion and putting them to the horn. Certifying them if they fail, he will denounce them our sovereign lord’s rebels, and ! put them to his Highness’ horn.”* j Here then the civil and spiritual authorities were in direct collision. Which was to give way? An eminent authority, in the present Residuary Estab- lishment, publicly declared that, in all cases of the kind, the church, like the goat which was met by j another of its kind upon the centre of a narrow J plank that spanned a yawning chasm among the mountains, must “ bow down and suffer the state ; to go over.”f In the same spirit, another authority ] of the same school, the ex-chancellor Brougham, gave it as his opinion that the church, as being 1 “ the weaker party must go to the wall.” Our 1 forefathers thought otherwise, because they believed the word of God had given a different decision. They claimed no jurisdiction over the revenues of the archbishopric ; but as regarded the archiepisco- pal office they had no doubt at all that they were entitled and bound to decide upon its lawfulness according to the word of God. And what can be more manifestly a matter spiritual, than the deter- mination of the question : “What offices hath Christ instituted in His church? Without a moment’s hesitation, and treating the interdict with the same indifference which similar attempts to arrest the church’s discipline have met with in our own times, the Assembly proceeded with Montgomery’s trial. The main charges on which he was arraigned were exactly those which formed the grounds of the libel against the Stratlibogie ministers in 1841; viz., his ! contumacy in disregarding the sentence of suspension previously pronounced upon him, and exercising ! the ministry notwithstanding, and his bringing in * Calderwood, Vol. III., p. 601, Wodrow edition. + The Rev. Dr M‘Leod, of Glasgow, — speech in the pres- bytery of Glasgow. the arm of the civil power to overthrow the dis- cipline of the Kirk ! Being convicted of these * offences he was found “ worthie to be deprived, in all time coming, of the ministry, and that the sen- tence of excommunication should strike upon him, except he prevented it by repentance. ”* The firmness of the Assembly seemed to shake Montgomery from his purpose. He appeared at the bar and withdrew his appeal to the civil power, and entreated that ; some conference might be held with him before any further step was taken. The Assembly with all lenity and tenderness agreed to his request. The result was that he came forward, and publicly, and humbly, in face of the Assembly, confessed himself ! guilty of the offences laid to his charge, sought for- giveness, and promised solemnly, as in the sight of God, to abandon the archbishopric and to accept of no office in the church without the advice and consent of the General Assembly. In these circumstances the Assembly delayed pro- nouncing sentence against him; but having little confidence in his steadfastness or integrity, they en- joined the presbytery of Glasgow to watch his pro- ceedings, to report immediately to the Presbytery of Edinburgh any attempt he might make to intrude himself into the prelatic office, giving, at the same time, authority to the latter presbytery, in case he should violate his promise, to excommunicate him at once. It soon appeared how needful was this caution. Scarcely had the meeting of Assembly been dissolved, when, impelled by his own avarice, and by the solicitations of Lennox, the poor hire- ling, Montgomery, broke through all his solemn engagements, and resumed his purpose of intruding himself into the forbidden office. The presbytery of Glasgow, in prosecution of the trust committed to them, immediately took up the case. The faith- less delinquent, and his powerful supporters, vainly thought to frighten those faithful men from their duty. With this view, and at their instigation, the provost of the city, accompanied by certain others of the local authorities, and by a multitude of their followers, entered the presbytery at the very moment when they were preparing to take the necessary steps for informing the presbytery of Edinburgh of Montgomery’s treachery. These intruders having rudely and insolently required the presbytery to desist, proceeded further to assault Mr John Ilowi- son, the moderator, with personal violence. For simply and civilly uttering his defence, he was, like the apostle Paul, smitten upon the mouth, and that with such brutal force as to dash out one of his teeth. Nor were his assailants satisfied till they had drag- ged him from his chair, and thrown him into the * Calderwood, Vol. III., p. 602, Wodrow edition. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xxxix common prison. Nothing daunted even by this gross outrage, the presbytery continued its sitting ; chose a new moderator, and completed the business in which they were engaged ; found Montgomery guilty of violating his engagements to the Assembly, and transmitted intimation of the fact immediately to the presbytery of Edinburgh. With the charac- teristic vigour and decision of our presbyterian forefathers, the sentence of excommunication against Montgomery was, accordingly, forthwith pronounced as the Assembly had ordained ; the church thus evincing her determination to suffer no interference with her own internal government, and to accept any amount of loss or suffering, rather than com- promise her spiritual independence. But if the church was resolute on her side, the court seemed equally bent on carrying out its selfish and tyranni- cal schemes. In our own times, the court of session suspended and pronounced null and void the sen- tences of suspension and deposition given forth by the Assembly against the ministers of Strathbogie. In this procedure they had their appropriate pre- cedent in the act of the privy council of 1582, which by public proclamation condemned and overturned the sentence of the church against Robert Mont- gomery. Matters had now come to extremity. Sentences in direct opposition to each other had issued from the respective authorities of the church and of the state. On one side there was truth ; on the other there was power. At a moment so critical, when, for the church to yield would have been to sanction the grossest Erastianism, and to hand over her spiritual authority to the civil power, it was well that she enjoyed the counsel and guidance of such a man as Andrew Melville. With that true greatness that rises and expands with the difficulties and dangers to be confronted, he summoned an extraordinary meeting of Assembly, and in the sermon, with which as moderator he opened it, his I trumpet truly gave no uncertain sound. “ He inveighed against those who had introduced the bludie gullie (as he termed it) of absolute power into the country, and who sought to erect a new popedom in the person of the prince. The pope, he said, was the first who united the ecclesiastical supremacy to the civil, which he had -wrested from the emperor. Since the Reformation he had, with the view of suppressing the gospel, delegated his absolute power to the emperor and the kings of Spain and France; and from France, where it had produced the horrors of St Bartholomew, it was brought into this country. He mentioned the de- sign then on foot of resigning the king’s authority into the hands of the queen, which had been devised eight years ago, when he was in France, and was expressed in prints containing the figure of a queen with a child kneeling at her feet and craving her blessing.* And he named bishops Beaton and Lesley as the chief managers of that affair : 4 This will be called meddling with civil affairs,’ exclaimed he, ‘ but these things tend to the wreck of religion, and there- fore I rehearse them.’ ”f In a tone of similar energy and decision, the Assembly prepared a remonstrance to the king and council, representing in clear and emphatic lan- guage the outrage that had been done by the civil power in Montgomery’s case, to the constitution of the church, and to the first principles of religious liberty. “Your majesty,” said they, “by device of some counsellors, is caused to take upon your Grace that spiritual power and authority which pro- perly belongeth to Christ, as only King and Head of his Church. The ministry and execution thereof is only given to such as bear office in the ecclesias- tical government of the same. So that in your Grace’s person some men press to erect a new j popedom, as though your majesty could not be free i king and head of this commonwealth, unless as well j the spiritual as the temporal sword be put in your j Grace’s hand : unless Christ be bereft of his author- ity, and the two jurisdictions confounded which God hath divided.” J Having followed up this pointed and spirited statement of their general ground of complaint, with an enumeration of the several specific grievances arising out of it, by which the church’s rights and liberties had been invaded, commis- sioners were appointed to lay this important document before the king. It were to deprive the reader of a high gratification, to withhold the quaint and pithy record James Melville has preserved of the interview between these commissioners and the court : no modern description can compare in ; graphic force with the narrative of this faithful eye- witness of the whole memorable scene. “ Newes,” says he, “were sparpelit athort the countrey, that the ministers war all to be thair massacred : quhilk moved me to repear to Perthe with diligence, to tak part with my uncle and father in Chryst. ; Coming ther, Sir James Melvill of Ha-hill schawes j me how evill my uncle and I was thought of at court, because of our sermons in St Androis, the tyme of the fast, and our doings and sayings at Assemblies, — and counsallit to depart af the toun, quhilk I schew Mr Andro, and willit so to do, — i but in vean, for 4 1 thank God,’ says he, 4 I am nocht fleyed nor feible spirited in the cause and j * That is, representing the youthful king James kneeling before his mother queen Mary, at this time a prisoner in England, and asking her forgiveness for taking possession of her throne. + M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Yol. I., p. 181. X Calderwood, Yol. III., p. 628. xl HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO message of Chryst. Com what God pleases to send, our commission sail be dischargit.’ ” “ At last the commissioners of the Kirk war callit, wha coming in befor the king and his counsall, de- lyverit their grieffes and articles, quhilk being read, Captain James (Stewart) beginnes to threttin, with | thrawin brow, and bosting language. ‘What,’ I says he, ‘ wha dar subscryve thir treasonable J articles,’ &c. Mr Andro answers, ‘We dar and ! wil subscryve them and gif our lyves in the cause !’ And withal starts to and taks the pen fra the clerk, and subscryves and calles to the rest of the breithring with couragius speitches, — wha all cam and subscry vit. This bauldness when the Due and Captain perceavit, they gatherit thairon that the Kirk haid a bak, and became aflrayit : and efter sum calmer language, dismissit them in peace, whan everie ane supposed they sould haiff bein hardliar delt withall.” How true it is that the wicked flee when no man pursueth ! Iniquity is timid, even when surrounded | with all the insignia and instruments of power ; in- | nocence is bold though unprotected and alone. It i was the mere suggestion of the favourites’ own fears | that the commissioners must be backed by some j force ready at hand to support their claims. They j had and desired to have no other backing than what i was derived from the goodness of their cause, and | the blessing of God. Their weapons were not car- j nal but spiritual, and because they employed these ; alone, therefore were they made mighty through j God to the pulling down of strongholds. These “weak things of the world,” humble ministers of j Christ, confounded and broke up the plots and | power of princes by their faith and firmness in the | cause of Christ. The point which Montgomery’s | case raised was a vital question. It was no a flfalr of outposts ; but the main battle which Melville and j his colleagues had in that case been fighting. That j which was at stake in the conflict was not some ! petty outwork — it was the citadel itself. To have { yielded would have been to surrender ; not alone their influence ; not alone their character ; not alone j their usefulness ; but along with all these it would | have been to surrender their very existence as a j free church of Christ. The question resolved it- ; self substantially into this : — Is the church a human | or a divine institution? If it be of earthly origin; if it be what one party in our more recent contro- versy have called it, the “ creature of the state;” if it stand upon the vulgar level of a common munici- pal corporation, then, doubtless, all those preten- sions to intrinsic jurisdiction and authority, for which the founders and fathers of the church of Scotland so zealously contended, would have been alike un- founded and dangerous. No sphere can have more than one centre. If the church be nothing more than a portion of the state, as Morton and king | James, in the sixteenth century, the Charleses in j the seventeenth, and the law courts and legislature of the nineteenth would insist on making it, then j ! unquestionably the state must be its governor. Its I j rights, privileges, and functions, must be defined by J the state’s will, and controlled by the state’s power, j But, on the other hand, if the church, as the j Scotch Reformers and all their genuine successors have uniformly contended, and as the constitution j and standards of their church, following the Scrip- tures of truth, unequivocally proclaim, be not of this world; if it be an institution whose existence, offices, and laws, have all emanated directly from heaven, | then this Jerusalem which is from above is free, and | no secular power may lawfully bring her into bon- ' dage. As a divine society, founded and upheld by | i the Lord J esus Christ, deriving its whole govern- i j ment, together with all the privileges that govern- j 1 ment is designed to dispense, and all the rights it j is intended to guard, exclusively from Him ; the j j church, as to all matters spiritual, is complete in j Christ. In all ecclesiastical affairs — affairs ; that is, j which natively and inherently belong to her pro- j j vince as a church of Christ — she is responsible to Him alone. Not only is she not bound to take; she is not at liberty to take, any other direc- tion in those affairs than the will of her sole Head and King. The church, therefore, has another and different centre of government from the state, be- cause she is herself another and a different sphere.. She has her own centre; and that centre is the Lord of glory, from whom radiates continually the ! light which is the church’s guide ; the warm and quickening energy which gives and sustains her life ; the controlling power which determines and regu- lates her course. The favourites Lennox and Stewart (earl of j Arran), who had the chief hand in those violent j measures to which the king and council had re- j course, in attempting to break down the constitu- tional liberties of the church, had, at the same time, j been giving deep and deadly offence, by their I haughtiness and tyranny, to the nobility and lead- j ing persons in the kingdom. Religious liberty is j the grand bulwark of civil freedom. Those who might have been blind or indifferent to the dangers | of the formed were aroused when they found the j latter in danger of being swept away. Nor can j there be a doubt that the energy and resolution with which the Assembly was seen to assert and vindicate its rights, in matters spiritual, encouraged and stimulated the nobles to make a corresponding j effort to rid the country of that civil despotism | which was so rapidly gaining ground. By one of I THE SCOTS WORTHIES. those sudden and decided movements, characteristic of that age, and well known in history as the “ Raid | of Ruthven,” the king was forcibly separated from the obnoxious favourites, and surrounded with a new administration. W e advert to the circumstance, only for the purpose of remarking on it as one of those events by which “ the earth” has often been made in God’s overruling providence “ to help the woman.” The church’s oppressors were dispossessed of their influence by this great political movement, at the very moment when they were likely to have used it for the purpose of urging the king to some fresh outrage upon the Assembly, or its ministers. Those who succeeded them had too much need to strengthen their own position, to incur the risks of a collision with the church. The storm was thus all at once changed into a calm ; and Montgomery, seeing now little prospect of effecting his sordid design, with his usual suppleness professed his deep contrition for what he had done, declared his wil- lingness to submit himself to the discipline of the church, and his anxiety to be restored to her com- I munion. It will not surprise the reader to learn that this profession, like all the others he had made before, was in its turn disregarded with the shame- less effrontery and perfidy which distinguished his whole career. The circumstances in which this wretched person next appeared on the stage of our ecclesiastical | history must now engage our notice, as belonging J to the last great struggle which preceded the ! formal recognition by the state of the church’s policy and discipline. Hitherto her liberty had been struck at indirectly ; but the time had at length arrived when it was to be openly and broadly assailed. By keeping in its own hand the key of lay patronage, the civil power had dexterously reserved to itself a means of intruding into the province of the church, so soon as a convenient occasion for doing so might be found. The subse- quent institution of Tulchan prelacy carried this encroaching spirit a step further, claiming, as thereby it did, to nominate men not only to offices recognised by the church, but to offices which the church had expressly repudiated and condemned. So far, how- ever, it was by single administrative acts, and these utterly at variance with constitutional law, that the state had attempted the subversion of the church’s freedom. The statute which instituted lay patron- age, however wrong in principle, did not pretend to give the patron any right to intermeddle with the internal government of the church, or even with the disposal of his presentee. In like manner, Tul- chan prelacy, though set up flagrantly and outra- geously in violation of the church’s ratified consti- tution, was not based on any avowal of a pretended right of supremacy in matters spiritual ; on the 1 j contrary, the utmost pains were taken, through the | convention of Leith, to secure for it something like ! an ecclesiastical sanction. And when that sanction, j even to the very limited and qualified extent to j which it had been most irregularly given by a body j destitute of all legal competency to do so, was ! authoritatively disclaimed and condemned by the j Assembly, the efforts that were still strenuously made, as in Montgomery’s case, to force the obnox- ious institution upon the church, were mere acts of | violence for which no grotind in law or constitu- j tional authority could be alleged. It was simply | the deed of the robber who founds his claim to the traveller’s goods, not on any plea of right, but solely and nakedly on the brute argument of force. These preliminary contests, however, had paved the way for an aggression of a different kind. What had i been tried in detail was now to be attempted at once by the establishment of a complete and whole- sale usurpation. The interference with the church’s i jurisdiction, which hitherto had been carried on by j a succession of violent acts, was at length to be imbodied in a principle. The king, as head of the i state, resolved to invest himself with ecclesiastical | as well as civil supremacy ; and as the fountain of all authority, both in spiritual and temporal things, to realize the charge made in the remonstrance for- merly quoted, by erecting a “new popedom” in the person of the sovereign, as if he u could not be full king and head of this commonwealth unless as well the spiritual as temporal sword should be put into his hands.” In preparation for the assault that was now about to be made on the liberties and whole constitution of the church, Melville had been compelled to quit the kingdom. In the month of May, 1584, that ' parliament assembled which was to be the base in- j strument of carrying the court’s despotic schemes J into execution. The lords of articles, as the select ! committee which prepared the business to be brought ; before the legislature was then called, were sworn I to secresy. In spite of all the cautions thus taken to conceal from the church and the country the con- spiracy against their common freedom, their design came to be known. One of the ministers who had gone in consequence to the palace to remonstrate with the king was seized at the gate and hurried to prison. Meanwhile parliament, with a tameness and subserviency truly miserable, and which strikingly proved how easily men are induced to sanction any encroachment, however unjust and injurious, upon the church of Christ, submitted implicitly to the wishes of the king and of his haughty and reckless favourites who had once more regained their former place and power. Without opposition the barons xlii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO and burgesses of Scotland passed those infamous statutes by which an entire revolution was made in the constitution of their country ; by which the founda- tions of religious liberty were completely over- thrown. The “ black acts,” as they were appro- priately termed, subverted at one blow the whole fabric of church policy which the founders of the church of Scotland had reared. They utterly anni- hilated the church’s spiritual independence, pros- trating all its powers and functions at the feet of the civil power. The first of these statutes enacted that the king and his successors, “ by themselves and their councils, are, and in time coming shall be, judges competent to all persons his highness’ sub- jects of whatever estate, degree, function, or condi- tion that ever they be, spiritual or temporal, in all matters wherein they or any of them shall be ap- prehended, summoned, or charged to answer to sik things as shall be required of them by our sovereign lord and his council.” By this act the king was made head of the church, and invested with a complete supremacy in all matters and causes spiritual. To make this supremacy more clear and absolute, an- other of these statutes “ discharged and abolished all judgments and jurisdictions, spiritual or temporal, which were not approved by his highness and his said three estates convened of parliament thus making the authority of the church, in those mat- ters which the Lord Jesus Christ hath expressly committed to her government, to depend entirely on the allowance or disallowance of the secular power. The third of these Erastian acts put this usurped supremacy in force, by impowering the prelates and certain commissioners appointed by the king “to put order to all matters and causes ecclesiastical,” — thus at once setting aside the presbyterian constitution of the church, and dele- gating to the court’s creatures, authority to rule the house of God. Once more, one of these acts was so framed as virtually to suppress all the ecclesiastical courts, denying them liberty to convene or to discuss any question, however strictly ecclesiastical, without the sanction of the crown. When these disgraceful statutes were proclaimed on the twenty-fifth of May, 1584, at the market- cross of Edinburgh, certain of the ministers of that city, with dauntless courage came forward and boldly met the proclamation with a solemn public protest, which they took with all the customary formalities ; and having done so, immediately with- drew into England. The persecution of the church now went forward with an unsparing and relentless hand. Adamson, he who ten years before so wit- tily satirized the system of Tulchan prelacy, now himself archbishop of St Andrews, and the court’s chief tool in this determined effort to Erastianize | and enslave the church, framed a bond to be sub- scribed by all ministers within forty days, whereby they were required to own the king’s ecclesiastical supremacy, and to submit to the whole of that oppressive and unscriptural system which the black acts established. A number of the ministers sought safety from the consequences of resisting these usurpations by following those of their brethren who had already fled into England. The bond was generally refused, until Adamson dexterously introduced into it one of those cunning and ambi- guous clauses which have been so often employed in the history of the church of Christ to seduce men from the path of strict integrity. The phrase which too many suffered themselves to be blinded by was this — they were “ to obey” what the bond required “ according to the word of God!” — as if it were possible according to the word of God to do what God’s word condemns. “ It was,” remarks James Melville, “ as if one should say he would obey the pope and his prelates according to the word of God." This pithy observation occurs in an able and elaborate remonstrance which this worthy man addressed, from his exile in England, to those brethren whom this wretched evasion had tempted into an abandonment of their duty. Some of these, like Craig and Erskine of Dun, were men of whom other things might have been expected; “ so diffi- cult is it,” says M‘Crie, “ even for good men to preserve a strict and inflexible integrity in the hour of temptation.” The archbishop’s clause will probably put more than one reader in mind of the somewhat similar design and effect, in our own times, of lord Aberdeen’s bill. And, perhaps, the honest rebukes and faithful warnings of James Melville may seem hardly less applicable to the subscribers of the bond of 1584, than to a certain class of the approvers of the bill of 1843. “ But it may be that sum of you,” writes the faithful remon- strant, “your unhappy complices and counsellors in this course, thinks, and will say, what neids all this ado? why are yie sa hat in threatening? the matter is nocht of so grait weght, &c. Alas ! my breithring, miserable and lamentable experience, except God of his mercie prevent it, I feir sail teatche you and the pure Kirk of Scotland what ye haiff done, and whow grait and sear are the con- sequents that insewes on your fact. For first be the approving of that act of parliament anent the king’s supremacy in all causes ecclesiastical or civil, and na appellation to be maid from him ye haff, nocht onlie sett upe a new pope, and sa become traitors to Chryst, and condescendit to the chieff error of papistrie whereupon all the rest depends : quhilk gif it be nocht to deny and refuse Chryst I knaw nocht what it is sa to do. But, farder, ye THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xliii haiff in sa doing granted mair to the king than eer the popes of Rome peaceblie obteined how tyran- nuslie and ambitiuslie soever they sought the same.” Having established this by referring to the fact that the councils of Constance and Basil “ had decreet in the pope’s face,” that an appeal lay from the pope to a general council of the church; he next adverts to their having, by their subscrip- tion, acquiesced in the assumption that those who, though it be in a matter ecclesiastical, decline to submit to the civil power, ought to be branded and treated as rebels and traitors : an assumption exactly parallel to that made in our recent contro- versy by the court of session, and since sanctioned by the British parliament, and laid down as the basis of lord Aberdeen’s bill. Melville thus pro- ceeds to notice the consequences to which that assumption might fairly lead. “ What, I pray you, giff these profest papistes and jesuistes that flockes ham out of France, Spean, and Italie, and finds graittur favour and credit in court than all the ministers, what if they sail challenge you for the doctrine of justification, frie will, reall presence, and the rest of the heids of religion ; for these, as chieff matters ecclesiasticall, sail the king and his counsall be judge to you, and na appellation be maid under the pean of treason ; what sail then, I pray you, becom of religion and the professours i thairof ? Sail they nocht be either forced to deny j Christ, or maid to disput with the torments apoint- ed for traitors? And syne this for a clok to be casten over it. ‘ It is nocht for religion but for hie trea- | sone, that sic are sa handlet.’ Do yie nocht heir espy the craft of the crewall fiend wha dar nocht in this age of knowledge and light of the gospell oppose himself against the treuthe, as the scribes and Pharisees durst not gainstand the doctrine of Chryst, but seiks, under pretence of lawes and clok of justice, to mak the godlie and true professours and I preachours to be schamfull spectacles, that thairby men may be eschamit of the veritie of the evangell : | even as Chryst was put to deathe under the nam of sedition and treasone.” We shall have occasion to trace more fully the resemblance between that period and our own times in a future part of this Essay. Meanwhile, in thus noticing here, incidentally, some of the analogies which James Melville’s remonstrance suggests, many will feel as if these solemn sentences which follow had been written for the present day. “ What a conscience and mynd sail ye haiff when yie remember, reid, or heir that wa pronounced be Chryst upon them be whome sklander and i offence comes ! And 0 ! whow many godlie hartes bathe in Scotland and Eingland, yea, in France and in all Reformed Kirkes, are crewallie wounded with 1 this fact of yours, and that nocht without graitt cause! For als lang as the haill ministerie stud constant, there was gud hope of a happie redres of matters: but now be this fact yie haiff giffen the devil entres within the walles of Jerusalem to spoil and destroy all the guid and constant citiziners ; thairof, wha will nocht defyll themselves and bow j their knees to Baal.” We cannot, indeed, speak of i any Craigs or Erskines of Dun as having in these j latter times left their former associates and their original church independence principles and gone over to the Erastians ; but still men have done this of whom better things might have been expected, nor can it be doubted that the fact of their doing so effectually put an end to whatever hope might previously have existed of obtaining a right settle- ment of that controversy which has ended in the disruption of the Established church. The responsi- bility they have thereby incurred is not materially different from that of those whom Adamson per- suaded to become bondsmen and to keep their livings in 1584. We have more than once had occasion, in this historic sketch of the contendings of the earlier Worthies of the Church of Scotland, to mark the interposition of Providence, on behalf of them and their cause, suddenly removing dangers which threatened their ruin. In 1560, when the queen regent, supported by the French troops, seemed to 1 be on the point of crushing the Reformers with the iron hand of oppression, the English queen all at once threw herself into the contest, and the dark cloud melted away. Again, in 1577, when Morton, at the height of his power, was on the point of pressing the church to extremity, bent as he was, at whatever cost on carrying into execution his des- potic schemes, his influence at the critical moment was broken up, and his high office taken from him, and this storm also was thus unexpectedly turned aside. Once more, when the court favourites, by whose machinations Morton’s fall had been achieved, were ready in their turn, in 1582, to have made the case of Montgomery the occasion of driving the royal prerogative over the prostrate liberties of the church, the ‘ raid of Ruthven ’ in an instant over- j turned their power. And now, when these proud and worthless men had succeeded in expelling from the court, and driving into exile the nobles by whom the ‘ raid of Ruthven ’ was contrived, and in re- covering their former place in the favour and con- fidence of the king : when they had declared open war against the liberty of the church by the passing of the Black Acts, and by enforcing their execution, had compelled all the more faithful and energetic defenders of the church’s constitution to take refuge in England, when despotism and intolerance xliv HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO appeared to have triumphed over every adversary, the sword and the fetters were again struck out of the insulting oppressor’s hands. Arran’s tyranny and haughtiness had grown beyond endurance : and by a sudden and general movement on the part of both nobles and people, the favourite was finally expelled from the court, stripped of all his ill-gotten honour, and reduced to insignificance. This event, which occurred in 1585, relieved the church from persecution, and though it by no means restored her rights, it enabled her to prosecute without danger the efforts which were necessary to the re- covery of her freedom. For some years thereafter little progress was made, — the king on his side re- fusing or evading the church’s claims, and she on the other hand as resolutely resisting all his insidious and incessant attempts to obtain her consent to any of those Erastian usurpations which the Black Acts had made. There were two circumstances which i shortly afterwards occurred that contributed not a little to promote the settlement which the church at length obtained. The one was the threatened popish invasion of 1589, which resulted in the cele- brated Spanish Armada. In this great crisis the church took the lead in awakening the country to an adequate sense of the dangers which menaced the religion and liberties of the kingdom. An ex- traordinary meeting of the Assembly was convened : a deputation was sent to the king who was too little inclined to move : a bond of allegiance and mutual i defence was framed and signed by men of all ranks j with such ardour and unanimity, that the whole nation was aroused. The services which the church rendered on this memorable occasion were so im- portant and valuable as both to demonstrate and to increase her influence, and thereby to strengthen considerably the weight of her subsequent repre- sentations to the king. The advantage thus gained was powerfully confirmed by the other circumstance to which allusion was made above, and which fol- lowed almost immediately. In the month of October of the same year, the king went over to Norway, where he married the princess of Den- ! mark. During his absence, one of the leading members of the provisional government to which ! he intrusted the care of his kingdom, was the cele- j brated Robert Bruce one of the ministers of Edin- | burgh. To his fidelity in this department the king himself bore the strongest testimony. In a letter written from the castle of Gronenburgli shortly before his return to Scotland, his majesty thus addresses him: “Good Mr Robert, Besides the welcome news that by your last letter you sent unto me, you pointed out so vively therein your honest meaning to my service, besides the good report I have otherwise of your daily travels for that effect, now during my absence, as I think myselfbeholden, while I live, never to forget the same.” * Speaking of this period, James Melville in his diary remarks that the king, “at his departing apointed Mr Robert Bruce to be in the counsall, and recommendit the estate of his country to him and the ministerie in speciall, reposing as he professit, upon him and them above all his nobles. And indeed he was nocht disappointed, for of the favour of God thair was never a mair peaceable and quyet estate of the country nor during that tyme of the king’s absence : so that whar before or sin syne, few moneths, yea oukes, were ther with- out sum slauchter, ther was non sic thing during that tyme.” Bruce was not alone in his efforts to promote the peace and good order of the kingdom. The church as a body was at the utmost pains to cultivate and cherish sentiments of loyalty towards their absent sovereign, and of respect for the laws, among the people at large. And so sensible was the king of the obligations under which he and the country had been laid, that shortly after his return, he openly, in St Giles’ church, Edinburgh, expressed his thanks to the ministers for their patriotic exertions in promoting the public welfare. It was apparently under the influence of similar feelings he pronounced at a meeting of the General Assem- bly held some months after his return,! his well- known panegyric on the church of Scotland. “ He praised God that he was born at such a time, as in the time of the light of the gospel, and in such a place, as to be king in such a kirk, the purest kirk in the world. The kirk of Geneva, continued his majesty, keepeth Pasche and Yule. What have they for them? they have no institution. As for our neighbour kirk in England, their service is an evil said mass in English : they want nothing of the mass but the liftings. I charge you my good people, ministers, doctors, elders, nobles, gentlemen and barons, to stand to your purity : and I forsooth, as long as I brook my life, shall maintain the same against all deadly.” % The subsequent conduct, and the whole char- acter and life of king James, render it altogether impossible to regard these favourable expressions as indicating anything more than the high esteem ! which the church, in the midst of all her difficulties and contendings, then enjoyed; and the necessity which, in consequence, his majesty felt himself under, in his peculiar circumstances, of assuming a more kindly tone towards her than he was wont, * Bruce’s Life, Wodrow Ed. p. 19. August, 1590. X M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol. I. p. 304. or was really inclined to exhibit. The church, however, naturally availed herself of the opportu- nity thus presented of pressing for a reversal of the obnoxious and oppressive acts of 1584, and for the ratification of her own scriptural constitution. Her efforts in this direction were unwearied. At length in the Assembly which met in May, 1592, certain articles were drawn up to be urged upon the king, the very first of which was this, that “the acts of parliament made, anno 1584, in prejudice of the kirk’s liberties be annulled, and the discipline pre- sently in practice ratified.” It will be seen from these words, that the church never acquiesced in the Erastian usurpations which the Black Acts made, but held steadily to her own principles. What she sought was, simply, that the state should withdraw those unrighteous and despotic statutes by which it was attempted forcibly to deprive her of her in- herent rights and liberties, or violently to obstruct her in the exercise of them. It may be said, indeed, that if the- church could not in conscience accede to the terms which the state imposed, she ought to have relinquished her connexion with the state altogether; and because she did not adopt this latter course, notwithstanding of the gross invasion made on her spiritual jurisdiction by the Black Acts, some have been disposed to argue, that neither ought the advocates of that jurisdiction in the pre- sent day, to have withdrawn from the Establishment, j Those who have recourse to such a plea must be either strangely ignorant of the history of the times from which it is borrowed, or so hard pressed for 1 something to allege in their own vindication, as to I be in too great haste to notice what that history re- i cords. The law of toleration had then no existence. Even the principles on which that law is founded were not understood. The church could not then have escaped one hair’s-breadth further from the ty- ranny of the Black Acts, by renouncing her connec- tion with the state. That alone, which according to the notions of the age, and the circumstances in which she was placed, she could do, was to refuse submission to what she considered to be sinful, and to bear whatever in the form of worldly loss or | suffering she might, in consequence, be called to endure. Every one who is capable of thinking must see at a glance how entirely the case is al- tered now. In times like ours, when the law of tol- eration secures, to all professing Christians, liberty to worship God according to their conscience, and when accordingly the alternative exists, — an alter- native totally unknown to the church in the reign of James VI. — of renouncing her state alliance, and thereby of escaping from the Erastian control which the state was resolved to exercise; to have continued in that alliance now, would have of necessity involved either dishonesty to the state, or disloyalty to Christ. The articles which the church drew up at the Assembly, in May 1592, were in the following month of June brought under the consideration of Parliament. The statute which thereupon was enacted, entitled “Ratification of the liberty of the true kirk” &c., has always been regarded as one so important and fundamental as to have been commonly designated the Charter of the Church of Scotland. Both on this account, and because the passing of it concluded the period of what has been described as the church’s second conflict, it will be necessary to notice somewhat minutely the leading points which it secured. To what extent did this celebrated act sanction those principles of spiritual independence, and that ecclesiastical constitution which the church had laid down in the Second Book of Discipline? This question is both inter- esting in itself, and bears a very close relation to the controversy which terminated in the late Disruption of the National Church. In the course of that re- cent controversy it was the common allegation of the anti-independence party, that, nothing what- ever of the Second Book of Discipline was ratified by the act 1592, excepting only those specific por- tions of it which that statute in terms imbodied. Were this a correct statement of the case, there would be no propriety in setting up the act in question as the honourable landing place on which the church was at length enabled to plant her foot, after a two and thirty years’ contest for a scriptural system of ecclesiastical policy and discipline. But how does this matter really stand? Those who hold the low view, above noticed, of the act 1592, have been accustomed to talk of the doctrine laid down in the Second Book of Discipline as to the inherent rights of the church and the functions of its several courts, as nothing more than an exposi- tion of what the church claimed ; and to argue that every part of that claim is to be held as having been rejected by the legislature, excepting only so much of it as is expressly recited in the act of rati- fication. Indeed it has long been a favourite way of speaking with the moderate party in the Church of Scotland, that, it is only in acts of parliament the powers and prerogatives of the church were to be found : that whatever could not be pointed out in the civil statute, was to be regarded as having no existence in the church. Now even, a priori , one might surely venture to regard it as a far more legitimate and common-sense principle of interpre- tation, to say the very opposite ; viz., that whatever rights the church has assumed in her avowed stan- dards, are to be held as having the consent of the state, excepting in so far as the civil statute which j xlvi HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO j refers to these standards expressly disallows them. J In regard to the standard in question, it is easily ! demonstrable, that this is the only principle of in- ! terpretation that can be followed consistently either J with right reason or with undoubted facts. If the ratification of the Second Book of Discipline were i according to the other view, limited to the passages actually introduced into the statute, 1592, that ! statute, instead of ratifying the liberty of the true kirk, would actually have denuded her of the very essentials of a church of Christ. The fourth chap- ter, for example, of the Second Book of Discipline defines the power of pastors ; asserts it to be the right of their office to preach the word ; to administer the sacraments; to solemnize marriage. Not one of these sections has a place in the act 1592, and therefore, according to the theory we are contro- verting, they would fall to be accounted as claims made indeed by the church, but rejected by the 1 civil power ! That some things in the Second Book of Discip- i line were not ratified is true ; but then we are to ascertain what these are, not from the silence of the statute, but from some express reference to them in the statute; a reference by which the things in question are disallowed. The only an- swer that can be made to a statement so plain and conclusive is this, — Why then are certain things which are allowed introduced into the statute? Does not this imply that these have an authority I allowed to them which is not granted to the others ? j There appears at first sight some plausibility in this consideration, which, however, a closer examination easily sets aside. In the first place, let it not be ; forgotten, as already shown, that according to this objection, authority will have been denied by the 1 act 1592, to the pastors, to preach the gospel and j administer the sacraments, which is surely a suffi- cient reason for at least suspecting that there must be a flaw in it somewhere. But in the second place, j there was a very intelligible and obvious reason : for expressly specifying some things, as ratified by ! the act, while others were merely included under some general principle which the act recognised. | It is most instructive, on this point, to examine , the passages of the Book of Discipline introduced into the act in the light of those events which the immediately preceding part of this historical sketch has narrated. These passages refer to the power and functions of the different courts of the church. By the Black Acts, passed eight years before, it will be remembered that a direct assault had been committed upon the most sacred rights and pre- i rogatives of the church. j By these acts the supremacy of the king and his courts, in matters spiritual as well as temporal, had | been declared. The church courts were liable to be treated as unlawful conventions; and the power of admitting and depriving ministers was vested in the bishops or commissioners of the king. Now, to remove the fetters which had thus been despotically fastened on the struggling church, it was not enough that the act, 1592, should “ cass and annuli,” as it did, “all and whatsoever acts, laws, and statutes made at any time before the day and date hereof, against the liberty of the true Kirk, jurisdiction and discipline thereof, as the same is used and exercised within this realm.” This might be a sufficient security as to most things, and especially as to all those rights which, without in- terruption, had been used and exercised within this realm. But it was not sufficient to give the church an adequate security that those special restraints which the Black Acts had imposed were to be entirely removed. The church would not and could not be satisfied unless the gross violation of her rights and liberties, perpetrated by the Black Acts, were prevented in time to come, by a clear and unambiguous ratification of the very rights and liberties which these acts had trampled on. And hence the introduction into the statute, 1592, of those portions of the Second Book of Discipline to which reference has been made. And the true light in which that statute is to be regarded is this, that while it condescends on certain important par- ticulars, as to which past events had made the church peculiarly jealous and sensitive, it at the same time recognised and sanctioned the church as existing according to her own constitution, established by her own authority, and the jurisdic- tion and discipline she had been accustomed to use and exercise. And, therefore, it follows of neces- sity, that her whole internal government and policy, as then subsisting in the Second Book of Discipline and Acts of Assembly, must have been acknowledged and ratified by the act, 1592, excepting in so far as any express provisions to the contrary are found in the act itself. It seems, therefore, as clear as noon- day, that the spiritual independence of the church of Scotland — her entire and unrestricted freedom in all matters ecclesiastical, so broadly and une- quivocally asserted in her practice and in her then subsisting standards — is to be held as having been distinctly owned and confirmed by the settlement of 1592. It is true that under this settlement the obnox- ious law of patronage was still maintained. Pres- byteries were “ bound and astricted to receive and admit whatsoever qualified minister presented by his majesty or laic patrons.” On this clause, indeed, the civil courts, in the recent controversy, mainly rested that right of interference and coercion THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xlvii which they have at length made good at the expense of the total subversion of the ancient constitution of the Established church. Had the clause in I question been so understood by our forefathers, the act, 1592, would have been regarded, not as the ! reparation of a wrong, but as the repetition of a I deadly injury. That act, instead of annulling the j royal supremacy, would, on such a construction have | been in fact confirming it. The astricting clause was read in 1592, and from that remote period down till 1838, in conjunction with the whole scope and spirit of the act in which it occurs, and with the other acts in which the independent jurisdiction of the church was so explicitly recognised ; and, so read, it never once occurred to either civil or ecclesiastical courts, during these two centuries and a half, that it could by possibility be meant to bear the interpretation it has recently received. Pres- byteries were bound to admit qualified presentees, but it was “ according to the discipline of the Kirk.” To affirm that she was not to be the judge of what her own discipline really was, would be to deny to her that very liberty which it was the express object of the act, 1592, to ratify and confirm. Moreover, that act had specifically recognised the admission or collation of ministers to be entirely within the church’s province, describing it as a “privilege which God has given to the spiritual officebearers of his Kirk.” Further, the act revived and restored to its full force, the act, 1567, formerly noticed, by which “ the examination and admission of ministers” was declared to be “ only in the power of the Kirk ;” and which, in addition, provided, that if a presentee were refused by the inferior church tribunals, the patron might “ appeal to the General Assembly of the whole realm, by whom the cause being decided shall take end as they decern and declare.” The church’s freedom, therefore, even under the astricting clause, to re- fuse admission to any presentee whom she held to be, “ according to the discipline of the Kirk,” dis- qualified, was unequivocally acknowledged. Kay, even if in the exercise of her intrinsic power “ to put order to all matters and causes ecclesiastical” — a power which the act, 1592, in terms allowed — she should go so far as to refuse collation to a minister whom she admitted, in her own sense of the term, to be “ qualified,” her refusal, according to the settlement of 1592, subjected her to no interference on the part of the civil power. The courts of civil law might indeed, in such a case, interpose ; but only to the effect of disposing of the benefice. “Providing always,” says the statute, 1592, c. 117, “in case the presbytery refuses to admit any qualified minister, presented to them by the patron, it shall be lawful to the patron to retain the whole fruits of the benefice in his own hands.” The light in which the church regarded the settlement of 1592, and the importance of those securities which it provided, are thus described by Dr M‘Crie. “The church of Scotland did not regard the present or any other parliamentary grant as the basis of her religious constitution. This had been already laid down from Scripture in her Books of Discipline. For all her internal administration she pleaded and rested upon higher grounds than either regal or parliamentary author- ity. What she now obtained was a legal recogni- tion of those powers which she had long claimed as belonging to her by Scripture institution and the gift of her Divine Head. She had now a right in foro poli et soli , by human as well as divine law, to hold her assemblies for worship and discipline, and to transact all the business competent to her as an ecclesiastical society, without being liable to any challenge for this, and without being exposed to any external interruption or hinderance whatever, either from individuals or from the executive gov- ernment.” * * * * “ Melville,” he continues, “ must have been highly gratified with this act of the legislature. He had now procured the sanction of the state, as well as the church, to a form of ecclesiastical polity which he regarded as agreeable to the Scripture pattern and eminently conducive to the spiritual and temporal welfare of the nation. Principles, for the maintenance of which he had often been branded as seditious and a traitor, were now not merely recognised as innocent and lawful, but pronounced ‘most just, good, and godly,’ by the highest authority in the land. It was the triumph of the cause which had cost him so much labour and anxiety during eighteen years.”* The limits of this Essay obviously render it im- possible to prosecute with the comparative fulness, hitherto maintained, the long remainder of that interesting and eventful history in which so many of the Scottish Worthies witnessed and suffered. For the object we have in view, a narrative, briefer and more concise, will now suffice. Within the two important periods already passed under re- view, were completely developed the grand princi- ples which it is our design to illustrate, and which constitute the substance of that testimony so reso- lutely maintained by our forefathers, and recently renewed and confirmed by the Free Church of Scotland. That, “ God alone is Lord of the con- science, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men which are in anything con- trary to His word, or beside it, in matters of faith * M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Yol. I., pp. 321-324. xlviii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO and worship this was the sum and essence of their testimony and of ours. On this broad and immovable foundation did the Reformers struggle to rear the spiritual liberties both of the individual j members and of the collective body of the church of Christ, in their native land. By the faithful and resolute application of this fundamental principle they first rescued the church from the doctrinal heresies, the gross superstitions, and the degrading tyranny of the church of Rome, — and they next, by the same means, resisted the Erastianism of the civil power. In every question, whether of doctrine j or of discipline, their appeal was exclusively 1 to the word of God ; and that word, as revealing ! the law of the Lord Jesus Christ, the church’s only i Head and King, was the only authority which in all j matters and causes ecclesiastical they could ac- knowledge or obey. And surely no one can read ; the record of those painful and arduous conflicts in which, from the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, i till the year 1592, a period of twice thirty-two ; years, they held up the banner which had been j given them to be displayed because of truth, with- l out venerating their holy zeal and unflinching steadfastness, and admiring the grace of God. It is true, as has been already hinted, that even in that important settlement, the obtaining of which, in 1592, we have characterized as the successful issue of an arduous and protracted contest, there were considerable defects. The continuance of the law of patronage was noticed as one of these ; another was the provision by which, while the right of Assemblies to meet once a-year at least, or oftener pro re nata , was fully ratified ; the precise time and place of meeting was to be fixed by his majesty or his commissioners, the Assembly being empowered to name the time and place in case of their absence. As Dr M‘Crie remarks, “ So long as the court was disposed to respect the law, and to allow the church to meet annually in General Assembly, the settling of the particular time and place of meeting was of minor importance, and the arrangement might be regarded as an accommo- dation to the ideas that then generally prevailed as to all public conventions.”! But on the suppo- sition that the court was or should become hostile to the church’s spiritual freedom, it was not difficult to see how mischievously such a provision might be employed. In point of fact, this seem- ingly innocent assumption came afterwards to be wielded as a most formidable instrument of oppres- sion. And it is by thus marking the small inlets through which the church’s adversaries have intro- * “ Confession of Faith,” Ch. xx. Sect. II. f “ M‘Crie’s Life of Melville,” Vol. I. p. 320. duced their deleterious influence, that we shall best profit by the great lessons which her history un- | folds. Meanwhile, before advancing from the point at which we have now arrived, we shall here en- deavour to set up certain leading landmarks indi- cative of the course which, in our remaining obser- vations, it is our purpose to pursue. The period which, as connected with the contendings and suf- ferings of the Scots Worthies, these observations have yet to embrace, reaches from 1592 down to the memorable Revolution of 1688. Twice during that period were the constitution and liberties of the presbyterian church of Scotland overturned, 1 and in both cases the triumph of the oppressor lasted exactly twenty-eight years. From 1610 till 1638, and again from 1660 till 1688, presbytery j and the principles of church independence, in mat- ters spiritual, were put under the ban of the civil power ; and prelacy and Erastianism were, in their stead, established by law. It is most interesting and instructive to observe the means by which these results were effected. The process was alto- gether different in the one instance from what it was in the other. And accordingly, while there is a strong and decided resemblance between the two periods of the ascendency of prelatic and Erastian tyranny, — there is a very striking contrast between the periods by which these were respectively pre- ceded. The years which elapsed from 1592 till 1610 were years of busy, crafty, and cruel tempta- tion — a season of incessant and relentless attack upon the church’s steadfastness and integrity. The j years on the other hand which preceded the second prelatic and Erastian triumph, — those which inter- ' vened between the memorable Glasgow Assembly of 1638, and the restoration of Charles H. in 1660, i were a time of reviving and refreshing from the j presence of the Lord. It was the time of the Second j Reformation, a time when the few remaining fetters j which the First Reformation failed to remove, which j the settlement of 1592 still left to encumber the church’s movements, were struck from her limbs, 1 and when she walked forth over the length and ; breadth of the land, in the full and glorious liberty wherewith Christ had made her free. To those who contemplate the periods now alluded to with a careless or unspiritual eye, they may seem like the chance and chequered incidents i of an aimless dream. To such observers it may appear as if these ups and downs in the church’s j history, these alternatives of progress and retro- 1 gression, of declension and reformation, of triumph and trial, were altogether devoid of purpose and of j plan ; and as if they taught no other lesson than this comfortless one, that there is nothing to be expected ! here but instability and change. But the thought- j THE SCOTS WORTHIES. xlix i _ j ful Christian does not need to be told that there is | a divine philosophy in all the shifting and varied 1 incidents to which we have referred : a philosophy which, had we the skill to understand it, would } pour a flood of light upon them all. The reflec- tions on this subject, however, which we design to offer, it will be proper to reserve for a future stage of this Essay. When the naked outline, now briefly sketched, shall have been filled up and rendered more intelligible by the recital of some of the lead- ing events which it includes, we shall be in a better position to perceive and estimate the principle of that wise, and righteous, and gracious Providence by which it is pervaded. It has been already remarked, that the entire interval from 1592 till 1610 was a time of cunning and cruel temptation to the church of Scotland. Scarcely had the ratification of her constitution and liberties been conceded, than the bad faith of the king began to appear. For a few years, indeed, the commotions which the popish faction excited, and the dissatisfaction which the king’s too evident leaning to that party produced throughout the kingdom, kept him too busy, and too much occupied in clearing himself to leave him much leisure to prosecute his despotic designs against the freedom of the church. But there can be no doubt that the promptitude and zeal which the church discovered, in arousing the country against the machinations of his popish favourites, was tending to deepen the malignity with which he regarded an institution which was the one grand obstacle to his selfish and tyrannical schemes. It was not likely that a mind like his, so little and so ungenerous, would soon forget or forgive the high- toned faithfulness of that memorable address, which his majesty’s tergiversation on the subject of the return of the popish conspirators drew forth from Andrew Melville. The address in question was delivered to the king in his palace at Falkland, in the year 1596. The commissioners of the General Assembly, accompanied by some patriotic gentlemen of the county of Fife, had waited on him to remon- strate against the injurious and dangerous course which the king’s council were following in reference to the popish lords. They were admitted to a private interview; and, as had been previously arranged, James Melville, a man remarkable for his mildness and courtesy, had been selected to speak to the king on a subject which all knew was both of a delicate, and to royal ears, distasteful kind. But his gentle spirit was no fit instrument for such a duty. The king, with his usual impatience and haughtiness, interrupted him ere he had well begun ; and before the milder nephew could again resume the address which had been so rudely and ungra- ciously stopped, the bold and commanding spirit of the uncle had already impelled him to take the speaker’s place. Advancing towards the king, and taking hold, in the ardour of his mind, of the sleeve of his majesty’s robe, and calling him “ God’s silly vassal,” he proceeded to address him in a tone which reminds us forcibly of one of the Lord’s ancient prophets remonstrating with some wilful king of Israel. “ Sir,” said he, “ we will always humbly reverence your majesty in public ; but since we have this occasion to be with your majesty in private, and since you are brought in extreme danger both of your life and crown, and along with you the country and the church of God are like to go to wreck for not telling you the truth and giv- ing you faithful counsel; we must discharge our duty, or else be traitors both to Christ and you. Therefore, Sir, as divers times before I have told you, so now again I must tell you, there are two kings and two kingdoms in Scotland : there is king James the head of this commonwealth, and there is Christ J esus the King of the church, whose sub- ject James the Sixth is, and of whose kingdom he is not a king, nor a lord, nor a head, but a mem- ber. Sir, those whom Christ has called and com- manded to watch over his church, have power and authority from Him to govern his spiritual king- dom both jointly and severally, the which no Christian king or prince should control or discharge, but fortify and assist, otherwise they are not faith- ful subjects of Christ and members of his church. We will yield to you your place and give you all due obedience ; but again I say you are not the head of the church; you cannot give us that eter- nal life which we seek for even in this world, and you cannot deprive us of it. Permit us, then, freely to meet in the name of Christ, and to attend to the interests of that church of which you are the chief member. Sir, when you were in your swaddling clothes, Christ Jesus reigned freely in this land in spite of all his enemies ; his officers and ministers convened and assembled for the ruling and welfare of his church, which was ever for your welfare, de- fence, and preservation, when these same enemies were seeking your destruction and cutting off. i Their Assemblies, since that time, continually have been terrible to these enemies, and most steadable to you. And, now, when there is more than ex- treme necessity for the continuance and discharge of 1 that duty, will you (drawn to your own destruction by a devilish and most pernicious counsel) begin to hinder and dishearten Christ’s servants and your most faithful subjects, quarrelling them for their con- vening and the care they have of their duty to Christ and you, when you should rather commandand coun- tenance them, as the godly kings and emperors did.”* j * M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Yol. I. pp. 391, 392. 9 | 1 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO This energetic and uncompromising address, de- livered with all Melville’s characteristic fervour and commanding power, overawed for the time the fickle monarch. Truth and genius asserted their natural supremacy over mere adventitious authority. But as one of the king’s household remarked, “the church got only words and promises, her enemies get the deed and effect.” Like a bent bow, the instant the pressure of the occasion was withdrawn, the king returned with a rebound violent in pro- portion to the constraint to which for the moment he had yielded, to his natural course of mean and relentless tyranny. From this point may be dated the commence- ment of that systematic and sustained attack on the church’s integrity, which, carried on by a succession of measures equally distinguished for cunning and cruelty, at length succeeded, at the end of fourteen years, in bringing the church, with her own suicidal hands, to renounce and destroy both her presbyterianism and her spiritual inde- pendence. Towards the close of 1596, under pretence of punishing some injurious expressions alleged to have been used in a sermon by one of the Scottish Worthies, the Rev. David Black, Melville’s colleague at St Andrews, a determination was evinced entirely to subvert the liberty of the 1 pulpit by making ministers amenable, and that in ! the first instance, to the privy council for every ! pretended offence in the ordinary discharge of their j public duty as preachers of God’s holy word. The greatest unanimity and energy was exhibited in meeting this assault. Black gave in a represen- tation declining prima instantia the privy council’s jurisdiction ; and for persisting in this course was banished from St Andrews into the northern parts of the kingdom. Shortly thereafter James, finding that little pro- gress was made by the method of a direct and avowed attack on the church’s constitution, began to employ that king-craft in which he so greatly 1 prided himself. A publication appeared in his 1 name containing a number of questions to be re- 1 solved, which, by bringing under dispute the chief I points in the church’s established government and policy, were designed to pave the way for the in- tended innovations. A meeting of the Assembly and also a convention of estates were summoned to take these questions into consideration. The call- I ing of this extraordinary meeting of Assembly, : without the concurrence of the church, was itself a sufficient indication of the fatal use the king was disposed to make of the claim which had been in- troduced into the settlement of 1592. The com- missioners of Assembly took instant alarm ; they immediately opened communication with the pres- byteries under their inspection, advising them how ! to act in this grave emergency. But the king on his side was not less busy, and the artifice to which he had recourse may remind the reader of some not dissimilar manoeuvres in our own times. In -1 those days when travelling was both difficult and dangerous, it was not customary for the ministers in the remoter districts to attend, except in very limited numbers, the meetings of Assembly. King James, however, resolved to employ a recruiting officer to collect and muster his adherents, and, accordingly, despatched Sir Patrick Murray, one of the gentlemen of the bedchamber, into Angus and j Aberdeenshire, where, by some singular peculiarity, i the supporters of Erastianism have always abound- ed. In executing this not very creditable mission, Murray was at pains, like others who have laboured ! more recently in the like vocation, to throw out all manner of offensive insinuations against the able and faithful men who, from their high talents and char- acter, together with their position in the central parts of the kingdom, had been called to take a chief part in the conduct of ecclesiastical affairs. The usual means by which jealousy and envy are stirred up in ill-informed or unfriendly minds were busily and unscrupulously employed. The leaders , “ the popes of Edinburgh,” as Murray trained the northerns to call them, were charged with rashness, ambition, indifference to the opinions and interests of the rural brethren ; in a word those very con- trivances which proved, by God’s grace and bless- ing, unavailing when put in practice to break up the convocationists previously to the Assembly of 1843, were but too successful in the hands of king James’ court emissary in 1597. Accordingly, when the Assembly met and the struggle at once com- menced on the question whether that was a lawful Assembly, Erastianism prevailed, and the affirmative was carried by a majority of votes. The king’s questions having been subsequently taken into con- sideration, court influence was again triumphant ; and the church, thus fairly embarked in a course of defection, went on step by step, now cajoled with guile, now coerced with severity, until, as M‘Crie observes, the Assembly “was at last converted into a mere organ of the court, employed for register- ing and giving out royal edicts in ecclesiastical matters.”* Though painful it is highly instructive to trace the church’s downward career. In doing so we cannot fail to mark how true it is that all error is on a slope. The first movement in this direction departs from the grand level of truth, and carries the unwary foot over the edge of an inclined plane, * M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol. II., p. 17. 1 1 THE SCOTS WORTHIES. li 1 .. . | which, once entered on, has a constant tendency to 1 hurry the victim on with accelerating rapidity, until, | making shipwreck of faith and a good conscience, 1 he plunges at last into the depths of a complete • apostasy. The church had already betrayed the great cause intrusted to her when she consented to parley with the king on the subject of his insidi- ous questions at all. The French proverb, true as it is in the cases to which it makes reference, is eminently so as regards the Christian church. Femme qui econte et chateau qui parle, tous les deux, vont se rendre. To submit to discuss propositions subversive of her constitution, and that too in an Assembly not duly convened, was to put herself into the enemy’s hands. Nor was the crafty sovereign, who was thus laying snares for her feet, negligent of the advantage which irresolution and treachery had | given him. Having succeeded in thus getting the church to open up the settlement which the statute 1592 had made, his next device was to induce the Assembly to appoint certain of their number to advise with him on various matters of ecclesiastical economy and administration. Duped by his plau- sible assurances the Assembly consented, and in so doing gave the king, as Calderwood happily expresses it, “a wedge taken out of the church to rend her with her own forces.” This ecclesiastical council became ere long the king’s willing tool, j | and enabled him to carry forward his subsequent encroachments on the church’s constitution and liberties with the appearance of having her own concurrence and co-operation. Under the king’s guidance a petition speedily emanated from this body, soliciting from parliament that a place and a voice should be conceded to the church in the national legislature. Court influence secured a ready acquiescence in this proposal. In the very I act of granting this request parliament allured the church on a step farther in the course of defection. It allowed the church to have representatives in the legislature, but ordained that these represen- tatives should be bishops. And, when even the faithless portion of the Assembly began to take alarm at the prospect, which was now becoming every day more clear, of the entire overthrow of the church’s presbyterian constitution, the king cut the knot of those difficulties which they attempted to interpose in the way of. his favourite scheme, by nominating three of the ministers to the bishoprics of Ross, Caithness, and Aberdeen, without waiting for the Asssembly’s concurrence at all. While James was thus gradually bending the church into . submission, partly by intrigue and | partly by force, he missed no opportunity of oppress- ing and harassing the more upright and zealous j ministers whose resolute and unflinching opposition was the chief hinderance in his way. On the occa- sion of that mysterious occurrence, the Gowrie conspiracy, an order was issued by the privy council enjoining all ministers to give thanks for his majesty’s preservation according to a prescribed form, and in terms which many fairly believed to be a dishonest representation of the facts of the case. I Among those who resisted this outrage on the rights of conscience was Robert Bruce. All his former services were as nothing compared with the oflence of daring to hold out against the mandate of the , imperious king. The man whom he had acknow- i ledged to be the wisest and best of his subjects was treated as a felon because he would not become the servant of man in the things of God. Bruce was j banished from the kingdom, and though afterwards suffered to return- to his native land was never for- given nor permitted to appear in Edinburgh. Every year now witnessed some fresh aggression on the liberties and privileges which the settlement ' of 1592 had recognised. The Assembly, as not being sufficiently prompt and pliant for the king’s purposes, but on the contrary often discovering a disposition to return to its duty, was again and again summarily and arbitrarily interdicted from holding its appointed meetings, in direct contra- vention of its constitutionally ratified right to do so. For protesting against this flagrant wrong in 1605, fourteen of the most distinguished ministers were immediately cast into prison. Of these, eight were banished into the remote Highlands, to the Western, Orkney, and Shetland Isles, while the 1 remaining six after being immured for fourteen j months in a dungeon were exiled from the kingdom. It was remarked as a somewhat singular coinci- dence that at the very time when these zealous men of God, who had been the most honoured of Christ’s ministers in the great work of converting souls, were thus treated as malefactors, Gilbert Brown, abbot of New Abbey, a notorious emissary of Rome, was brought forth out of prison with all | honour and entertained at the public expense. “ Barabbas was released, and the faithful preachers of the word of God were retained in loathsome dungeons.”* Among those sufferers was one of the most eminent of the Scottish Worthies, the godly John Welsh, the son-in-law of Knox. From the place of his confinement, in the castle of Black- ness, this devoted servant of the Lord, in a letter to the countess of Wigton, thus speaks of the cause for which he was then in bonds. “ What am I that I should have been first called to be a minister of Christ these fifteen years, and now, last of all, to j be a sufferer for his cause and kingdom ? To * Simsoni Annal. p. 93. M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol. ' II., p.123. witness that good confession, — Jesus Christ is the King of saints, and that his church is a most free kingdom, not only to convocate, hold, and keep her Assemblies, but also to judge of all her affairs in all her meetings. These two points, first, that Christ is the Head of his church ; secondly, that she is free in her government from all other juris- dictions except Christ’s, are the special causes of our imprisonment, being now committed as traitors for maintaining thereof, and are now waiting to confirm it with our blood.” While the king was thus ridding himself with a high hand of all those who had sufficient courage and integrity to stand out against his usurpations, he was, at the same time, steadily carrying forward his preparations for the total subversion of that order of things which the act, 1592, had establish- ed. Having succeeded, on Elizabeth’s death in 1602, to the throne of England, his increased power and patronage gave him still more ample means of bribing or intimidating those of the nobility and gentry who were hostile to his schemes. And, accordingly, in 1606, he succeeded in in- ducing parliament to overturn everything which the settlement of 1592 had recognised. Presbytery was set aside by the legislative restoration of bishops to all their ancient dignities and preroga- i tives : and the church’s spiritual independence was not less effectually swept away by the recognition of his majesty as “ absolute prince, judge, and governor over all persons, estates and causes both spiritual and temporal within his said realm.” With the view of meeting this shameless attempt to deprive the church of her chartered constitution, a formal protest had been prepared. It was sub- scribed by forty-two faithful men, at the head of whom was Andrew Melville, who appeared in the face of that venal parliament, and though prevented from lodging it in the ordinary form, took care to make the tenor of it sufficiently well known. This document set forth respectfully, but firmly, those noble views of the relation in which the civil power ought to stand to the church of Christ, which had been laid down in the Second Book of Discipline, and sanctioned by the act 1592. It warned the legislature of the danger to civil as well as to reli- gious freedom, which the course they were following involved. The church which, for state favour, has sold its own freedom, will not be slow to betray the freedom of the commonwealth. “ If one shall ask,” said the protesters, “ How shall these bishops be more subject to be carried after the appetite of an evil prince than the rest of the estates? The answer and reason is, because they have their lordship and living, their honour, esti- i mation, profit and commodity of the king. The king may set them up and cast them down, give them and take from them, put them in and out at his pleasure, and, therefore, they must be at his direction to do what liketh him.” * * * * “ If any succeeding prince please to play the tyrant and govern all, not by laws, but by his will and pleasure, signified by impious articles and directions, these bishops shall never admonish him as faithful pastors and messengers of God ; but as they are made up by man, they must and will flatter, pleasure, and obey man. And as they stand by affection of the prince, so will they by no means jeopard their standing, but be the readiest of all to put the king’s will and pleasure in execution, though it were to take and apprehend the bodies of the best, and such, namely, as would stand for the laws and freedom of the realm, and to cast them into dark and stinking prisons, put them in exile from their native land, &c. The pitiful experience in times past makes us bold to give the warning for the time to come.”* Subsequent events sufficiently proved, that the men who uttered these things in the ears of parlia- ment were the truest friends of their country. But their warning voice was unheeded. The act was passed, the political rank and privileges of bishops were restored, and the king’s supremacy over the church was unequivocally affirmed. Mere secular politicians, and men of the world in general, care little about the rights of the church of Christ. They will look on, not simply with apathy and indifference, but with cordial satisfaction at wrongs and aggres- sions, which, if committed on the least of their own temporal interests they would resen c with indigna- tion. It were well that this fact, so conspicuous in the past history of the church of Scotland, were kept in mind by the friends of evangelical truth and of Christian liberty in the present day. Many are too apt to think that the spirit of freedom, the zeal for popular rights, the controlling influence of the public mind, which are so characteristic of this age, must be a sure and sufficient protection to the rights of conscience in matters of religion. Never was there a greater delusion. If the public mind were pervaded by real religion, the popular cast of our political constitution would no doubt tend greatly to guard our religious liberty. But an irreligious public will be quite as faithless to the cause of spiritual freedom as an irreligious prince. The parliament of James VI. voted away, without hesitation, the chartered independence, in matters spiritual, of the church of Scotland. The parlia- ment of Charles II. did the same thing half a j century thereafter with equal promptitude. Think- | * Reasons of Protest. M'Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol. II., I pp. 129—131. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. liii ing their own secular rights and interests secure, it seemed to them a small thing to trample on the liberties of the church of God. It was not in either case till they had been made, in righteous retribu- tion, to reap the fruits of their own venality and injustice, by finding the oppressions that were prac- tised, under the sanction of their enactment, on the servants of Christ, brought to bear in the form of a grinding and intolerable tyranny upon themselves, that, first in 1638, and again in 1688, they were taught to repair their grievous error, and to identify civil with religious freedom. A far more popular parliament than either of these has repeated, in the 19th century, the injury and the injustice which in the 17th century were committed by them. Nor is there anything exaggerated, or even unlikely, in the supposition, that it may be by an experience not dissimilar from theirs, that modern statesmen and ■legislators may yet come to learn, that to deny spiritual freedom to the church of Christ is to subvert the liberty of the commonwealth, and to lay the foundations of a real despotism. The statute 1606 enabled the king to plead the authority of law for those aggressions on the church’s constitution and liberties, which, till then, rested on his mere arbitrary will and pleasure. So long, however, as the church withheld her consent from the new order of things his triumph was incomplete. Accordingly, the work now of bribing, and now of breaking down opposition Ao his measures, went on with still greater vigour than before. And when, at length, persecution had silenced or banished those whom royal blandishment could not buy, nor royal craft deceive, an Assembly was found base enough to respond to the king’s wishes, by renounc- ing and overthrowing that noble and scriptural polity which it had cost so many toils and struggles to rear. This Assembly was held at Glasgow in the month of June, 1610. Posterity has branded it, in bitter derision, with the name of angelical, in allusion to the notorious and infamous fact, that its members were brought to the decision they gave, not by any celestial influence, but by copious showers of those “ golden angels” which were then the cur- rent coin of the realm. The members who con- stituted this disgraceful Assembly were chosen under royal missives sent to the presbyteries, and naming the individuals whom they were to appoint, in the | same fashion as bishops are chosen in the church of England, by the deans and chapters of cathedrals, under the congd d'elire of the crown. A body, com- posed of such “ hired servants” of the king, it were ridiculous to regard as truly representing the church of Scotland. Accordingly, when in obedience to the royal mandate, it set up prelacy, constituting bishops the perpetual moderators of synods, direct- ing all presentations to benefices to be made to them, investing them with the exclusive right of ordaining to the office of the ministry, and with the whole power of ecclesiastical discipline, and when, by so doing, it recognised, moreover, that subjec- tion to the civil supremacy, under which the bishops held their offices, it manifestly abandoned all that was most characteristic of the constitution and principles of the ancient and original church of Scotland. It will be our object to show in a sub- sequent part of this Essay, that the modern Assem- bly which held its sittings in Edinburgh in 1843 : the Assembly which excluded from a place in it the ministers and elders of quoad sacra churches, not because Christ, but the court of session and the parliament of Great Britain, had declared, that their right to rule the house of God was the adjunct of an endowment : the Assembly that gave a place in it to ministers deposed by ecclesiastical, and reponed solely by civil, authority : the Assembly that abol- ished the principle of non-intrusion at the bidding of the secular power : the Assembly that consented to hold and exercise all its ecclesiastical autho- rity in subjection to the supremacy of the courts of law : the Assembly that did all this, it will be here- after our object to show, did no more represent the true church of Scotland than the Assembly of 1610. Of the Assembly of 1610, M‘Crie remarks, that u as it would have been less insulting to the nation, so it would have been equally good in point of autho- rity, if the matters enacted by it had been at once proclaimed by heralds at the market cross, as edicts emanating from the royal will.” Of the Assembly 1843, the M‘Crie of a future age will have to write substantially the same thing. The queen’s letter was the real act rescissory which undid the re- formation work of the ten preceding years. We have described the interval between 1592 and 1610 as a period of temptation, — a period, during which cunning and cruelty combined to force, or betray, the church into an abandonment of those great principles, for which the Scottish Worthies witnessed and suffered. The brief sketch of that period now given, may suffice to show to how lament- able an extent the temptation prevailed. How little could such a result have been anticipated eighteen years before! “ Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.” Thus, after a struggle of more than ten years, was episcopacy established in Scotland. “ The way in which it was introduced exhibits a complete contrast to the introduction of the ecclesiastical polity which it supplanted. Presbytery made its way by the weapons of argument and persuasion without the aid of the civil power, which viewed its progress with a jealous eye, and raised its arm repeatedly to crush it. liv HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO 1 _ j Its patrons avowed from the beginning all that they intended, and never had recourse to falsehood or fraud to accomplish their favourite object. And it had been rooted in the opinions and affections of the nation, long before it obtained a legal establish- ment. Episcopacy, on the contrary, was the crea- ture of the state. It had the whole weight of the authority and influence of the crown, all along, on its side ; and even with this it could not have pre- vailed, or maintained its ground, without the aid of those arts to which government has recourse, for carrying its worst and most unpopular measures. Deceit, and perfidy, and bribery, were joined to fines, and imprisonments, and banishments, and the terrors of the gibbet. Dissimulation was the grand engine by which the Presbyterian Church was over- thrown. * * * * A victory gained by such acts was more dishonourable than many defeats. It ; required only another triumph of a similar kind to secure the perpetual proscription of episcopacy from this country, and to fix a stigma upon it, which j must induce its warmest admirers to wish that every trace of its existence were erased from the ! annals of the church of Scotland.”* We have described the work of the first reformers, the earlier Scottish Worthies, as consisting in the restoration of evangelical doctrine, and in the establishment of scriptural discipline. The former was imbodied in the Confession of 1560, the latter in the First and Second Books of Discipline, whose grand principles were recognised and ratified in the settlement of 1592. It is not unworthy of remark, that the efforts of the king, during the eighteen years that followed, were specially directed, not against the doctrine, but against the discipline or polity of the church. The consequences which ensued upon the success of his schemes are well suited to illustrate how very closely the doctrine and the discipline of a church are bound up together. The discipline is the hedge of the doc- trine. Let the discipline be taken away, or what amounts to the same thing, let it come under the control of the secular power, and the security of her doctrine is at once destroyed. It need not surprise us, therefore, to learn, that in the train of that Erastianism which, in 1610, succeeded in sub- verting the church’s Presbyterian government, there came in a general corruption of doctrine accom- panied by a decline of vital godliness. For six years after the disgraceful angelical Assembly the supreme court of the church never met at all. Its second meeting, during this dark period of the church’s history, was the notorious Perth Assem- bly of 1618, in which the Erastian tyranny which * M'Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol. II., pp. 251—253. began with the overthrow of the church’s disci- pline, was brought to bear with equal haughtiness on her doctrine and worship. The church which had suffered herself to be betrayed out of her allegiance to Christ as her King and Governor, was 1 called to degrade herself still more by permitting j His prophetic office to be in its turn trampled under j foot of the civil power. At the Perth Assembly j five articles were proposed connected with the administration of the most sacred ordinances of religion, all of them flagrant innovations on the church’s established doctrine and worship. They were these: 1. Kneeling at the Lord’s supper; 2. The observance of holidays, such as Christmas, Good Friday, Easter, &c. ; 3. Episcopal confirma- tion; 4. Private baptism; 5. Private communicat- ing. It was in vain to object, as some did, that such things were unscriptural. The brief answer i of Archbishop Spottiswood, who presided in this Assembly, to all reasonings of this kind, was, 44 Will you consent to the articles or disobey the king?” The Assembly in which these proceedings took place had scarcely the appearance of an ecclesias- tical body. 44 There was set in the Little Kirk’s (of Perth),” says Calderwood, 44 a long table and forms at every side for noblemen, barons, burgesses, bishops, and doctors, and at the head of it a cross table with chairs for his majesty’s commissioners and the moderator. The ministers were left to stand behind, as if their place and part had been only to behold. But this apparently was done of policy, that they might carry some majesty on their part to dash simple ministers.” In such an Assembly, composed for the most part of the king’s creatures, and under such a constitu- tion as the church had submitted to, the wonder is that so many as forty-five members should have been found to protest against the resolution by which the obnoxious articles were carried. The day on which they were shortly thereafter ratified by parliament, is known in our ecclesiastical history by the significant name of the Black Saturday. To the faithful remnant, who, in the midst of general defection, adhered to the principles of the Reforma- tion, the heavens seemed to frown upon a deed by ; which these principles were practically dishonoured and disowned. When the Marquis of Hamilton, the king’s commissioner, rose to give the royal assent to the act of ratification, the hall was enve- I loped in the gloom of a heavy thunder cloud which overhung the city, and, at the instant, when he i stretched out the sceptre to give the touch wliich converted the obnoxious statute into law, the im- pending storm burst forth. Flash after flash of the most vivid lightning threw its ghastly glare over the nation’s awe-strnck representatives, while na- THE SCOTS WORTHIES. lv lure’s artillery shook, with terrific peals, the edifice in which they were assembled. From the rent heavens there poured down at the same time a torrent of rain and hail of unprecedented violence. I If there may have been something of superstition in the feelings which prompted the pious peasantry J of Scotland to regard this anger of the elements as indicating the displeasure of an offended God, these feelings had at least a better warrant, as the younger M‘Crie remarks, “than the raillery which Spottis- wood puts into the mouths of others, who said, ‘ It was to be taken as an approbation from heaven ; likening the same to the thunderings and lightnings at the giving of the law of Moses !’ ”* The sanction thus given to the Perth Articles, was immediately converted by the king and his tools the Prelates, into an engine of cruel oppres- sion. The Court of High Commission, — a court as arbitrary and iniquitous as the Inquisition itself, which indeed it greatly resembled, proceeded to enforce submission to the obnoxious articles with the utmost rigour. But He who ruleth over all, and who maketh even the wrath of men to praise him, turned the very arts that were thus used to root out Presbytery from the land, into a powerful means of overturning prelacy itself. The great body of the Scottish people, strong in their attach- ment to the scriptural doctrine and discipline of the Presbyterian Church, regarded these prelatic I innovations with all the greater abhorrence, that their introduction was associated with the grossest | tyranny and persecution. Those, on the other j hand, of the more able and faithful ministers, who boldly refused submission, when banished i on this account from their parishes, carried into the remoter districts of the country into which they were driven, the influence of their high char- acter and powerful preaching along with them. Like the persecution which arose in the time of Stephen, and which by scattering apostles and evangelists over all Judea and Samaria, tended to the more rapid and extensive diffusion of the Gospel : or like the act of the British Legislature in our own times, which was intended “to ex- tinguish” the principles of non-intrusion and spiri- tual independence, but which by compelling their advocates to withdraw from the establishment, and to form the Free Church of Scotland, promises to give to these principles a prominence and a force which will yet by the Divine blessing rally on their side the homage of all the true churches of Christ on earth: — in precisely such a manner did the banishment from their parishes, of the Bruces of Kinaird, the Dicksons of Irvine, and other like- * M'Crie’s Sketches of Scottish Church Hist., p. 171. minded men, conduce to the spread of evangelical truth, and to the growth of that spirit, which was destined, under God, to throw off by one mighty and convulsive effort, the yoke of intolerable bondage which the king and his prelates had im- posed on the church and people of Scotland. While the causes thus briefly noticed were tending to arouse the piety of the country, and to set it in array against the existing order of things, the pre- latic party were at the same time, by their haughti- ness and presumption, alienating from them a large portion of the ancient nobility. The ecclesiastical dignitaries who had done the bidding of a despotic sovereign so promptly in the church, were certain to be his most pliable instruments in the State also. To them accordingly almost every civil office of honour or influence was assigned. Such ap- pointments, and the arrogance with which they were assumed, disgusted and irritated men of rank, accustomed to lead, where they were now required to follow. And when at length a proposal was mooted in 1629 by the commissioner of Charles I., to revoke the grants of those greater benefices which had been erected into temporal lordships, and to transfer them to the maintenance of the hierarchy, the indignation of the Scottish Barons knew no bounds. Every day made it more and more manifest that no right or interest, whether religious or political, was to be allowed to stand in the way of that despotism in church and state to which all things were now rapidly tending. Even worldly-minded nobles were made to feel when the fetters began to press on their own limbs, that it was not without reason the faithful and sagacious Melville warned them in 1606, that in consenting to the overthrow of the church’s freedom, they were paving the way for the subver- sion of their own. It was in this state of things, when dissatisfaction was spreading rapidly among all classes of the people, that Charles I. in 1633 came down to Scotland. It was his first visit since his accession in 1625. Inheriting all his father’s wilfulness and insincerity, and possessing besides an obstinacy of disposition peculiarly his own, his presence could hardly fail to hasten the impending crisis. Natu- rally haughty and imperious, and filled besides ■with the high-church bigotry which his popish queen, and Laud, his semi-popish archbishop, had instilled into his mind, his very first act evinced a determination to aggravate the yoke which his father had imposed on the church and people of Scotland. In the parliament which met at Edin- burgh, shortly after his arrival, he proposed that an act should be passed authorizing him to regulate ecclesiastical vestments ; and when some of the Ivi HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO nobility ventured to avow their objections to such an enactment, — “ Gentlemen,” said the arbitrary and infatuated monarch, “ I have all your names here, and I’ll know who will do me service and who not, this day.” This violent and unconstitutional proceeding having failed to secure a majority of votes, the king had recourse to the despicable ex- pedient of obtaining a false return from the clerk, who had been suborned for the purpose, and who dishonestly gave in the numbers as in favour of the obnoxious law. Conduct like this sufficiently revealed to the Scottish people their sovereign’s true character, and prepared them for those still more intolerable manifestations of his despotic spirit which soon after appeared ; and which, at length, blew the smoulder- ing embers of the nation’s deep and universal dis- content into a flame, that speedily reduced to ashes the whole fabric of that civil and religious tyranny, under which the kingdom had groaned for upwards of thirty years. “ Sire,” said lord Loudon to the king, when his majesty was expres- sing his surprise at that state of public feeling which every day was becoming more manifest, “the people of Scotland will obey you in everything with the utmost cheerfulness, provided you do not touch their religion and their conscience.” The time was now at hand when the wisdom of such counsels, and the folly of despising them, were to receive a signal attestation. Persisting in his haughty and despotic determination to make his own will the law for both church and state, in the year 1637 a book of canons was sent down for the regulation of the clergy. A liturgy was at the same time prepared by Laud, the semi-popish archbishop of Canterbury, which the Scotch ministers were peremptorily re- quired by the king and council to procure and to read in all their churches, not only without the Scotch church being at all consulted on the subject, but without any opportunity having been afforded to the clergy of even seeing the service-book they were thus commanded to use in the public worship of God. It was now apparent to the whole country that the changes, which had been made by force and fraud on the external framework of the church, were to be carried with the same reckless intoler- ance into the very heart of the institution. Doc- trine and worship were to be as little respected as government and discipline ; and unquestionably, if royal authority or human laws were to be recog- nised as the guide and standard of the one, it is not easy to see on what principle they should be excluded from a like supremacy over the other. The mass of men, however, seldom see the true nature of a principle till it is embodied in a fact. The surplice and Laud’s liturgy revealed in a way, not to be misunderstood, their actual condition to the Scottish people. They were on the verge of a j slavery as degrading as that from which the First j Reformation had rescued their fathers. To yield was to go back from daylight to darkness — from j freedom to bondage — from saving truth to soul- destroying error. When the combustible materials have been prepared, a single spark suffices for the explosion. The dean of Edinburgh on the 23d of July, 1637, appeared in the High Church of St Giles. The sight of his Babylonish garment, as the people accounted the surplice, and the sound of his voice, uttering for the first time in the ears of a Scottish audience, the words of the hated service- book brought on the crisis. An old woman, start- ing- from the stool on which she sat, and hurling it in the same instant at the dean’s head, cried out “ Villain, dost thou say mass at my lug?” That seemingly trivial incident, resulting from the impulse of the moment, fired the train which years of wrong and oppression had been laying deep in the national mind. Not only the congregation in which it occurred, but Scotland from its centre to its circum- ; ference was convulsed. Never, perhaps, in the history of any kingdom, did the mind of a whole people break forth into so instantaneous and unani- mous a demonstration of excited feeling and deter- mined purpose. The events which followed are too notorious to need that we should detail them here- It is enough to state that they issued in the memor- able Glasgow Assembly of 1638, whose glorious achievement it was to vindicate and restore the scriptural constitution and the spiritual independ- ence of the Church of Scotland. The swearing of the national covenant was un- doubtedly the grand means of giving that expres- sion and concentration to the energies of the national will, which compelled even the headstrong and haughty Charles I. to bend and give way. In that remarkable engagement, the barons and bur- gesses, the clergy and people of Scotland, threw themselves back, in this great emergency, on the | characteristic principles of that constitution in church and state, which had been wrought out amid the struggles and sufferings of the First Refor- mation. The innovations, civil and ecclesiastical, upon that constitution, which despotism had suc- ceeded in forcing upon the church and country during the preceding thirty years, were held to be, I as they truly were, incompatible with that order of | things which a host of fundamental and unrepealed statutes had been intended to establish and main- ! tain. In so far as the interests of religion and of the reformed church were concerned, the national covenant embodied a view of the Reformation con- test, closely corresponding to that which in the THE SCOTS WORTHIES. lvii earlier portion of this Essay, we have endeavoured j to give. The first branch of the covenant renewed j the nation’s protest against popery, and reasserted I those scriptural views of the gospel of salvation, I which it was the work of Knox to establish I on the ruins of the abolished papal superstition. I From this testimony for evangelical doctrine, the covenant proceeded to a testimony not less explicit for that scriptural discipline and independent juris- diction which had been secured to the reformed church, as the fruit of those labours of which so distinguished a part was borne by Andrew Melville. And the main design of the covenant, and that to which it solemnly pledged all who joined in it, was simply to promote the restoration of that purity of doctrine and discipline which the confession of 1560, and the Books of Policy whose principles were ratified by the settlement of 1592, so fully and clearly set forth. “We do hereby profess,” said the subscribers of the covenant, “ and before God, his angels, and the world, solemnly declare that with our whole heart we agree and resolve, all the days of our life, constantly to adhere unto and to defend the foresaid true religion, and (forbearing the practice of all novations already introduced in the matters of the worship of God, or approbation of the corruptions of the public government of the kirk and civil places and power of kirkmen, till they be tried and allowed in free assemblies and in parliaments,) to labour by all means lawful to recover the purity and liberty of the gospel as it was established and professed before the foresaid nova- tions.” To resist this mighty movement was hopeless, although, indeed, whatever the arts of an un- scrupulous diplomacy could accomplish in that way was tried by the king. A “free Assembly” was convened. All his efforts to pack it with his own creatures were in vain. The mind and heart of the nation were thoroughly aroused. It was a time of manifest reviving and refreshing from the pre- sence of the Lord. The energy and unanimity with which the whole preparations for this memor- able Assembly were made, — as well as the wisdom, firmness, and fidelity, with which its affairs were conducted, — furnish evidence, not to be misunder- stood, that it was the Lord’s doing; that He had come to visit and redeem his people. And who shall let when His time for working comes ? In granting what he found it impossible any longer to refuse, that the church should be allowed to meet in Assembly, and to regulate her own pro- per affairs, the king yielded only inch by inch and with the utmost reluctance. He clung to the royal supremacy, in matters ecclesiastical, with the tenacity of infatuated despotism, and had recourse to every artifice which a fraudulent diplomacy could j employ, to retain in his own grasp what he was j i affecting freely to surrender to justice and to the j united voice of the kingdom. His secret corre- | 1 spondence on the subject with his commissioner, the j marquis of Hamilton, which has now come to light, | has revealed a system of deliberate deception, the most shameless that can well be conceived. Hav- ing, at length, been made to see by his own ad- visers that the calling of an Assembly was inevit- able, he thus writes regarding it to Hamilton, i July 27, 1638: — “You must labour that bishops j may have votes in assemblies, which if you cannot ! obtain, then you are to protest in their favour in j the most fervent manner you can think of. As for j the moderator in the Assembly you are to labour ! that he may be a bishop, which though you cannot I obtain yet you must give way to their election. You are to labour that the Five Articles of Perth be held as indifferent ; strive that the admission of ministers may continue as they are. * * * * You are to protest against the abolishing of bishops, and to give way to as few restrictions of their power as you can. * * * * y 0 u are to advise the bishops to j forbear sitting at the council till better and more ! favourable times for them.” In the month of ; October following, and after having found, in the 1 interval, that many of the points about which he j had been so obstinate must be given up, and when ! now the meeting of what he had summoned as a i “ Free General Assembly” was at hand, we find him again writing to his commissioner in these ! words : — “And as for this General Assembly, though I can expect no good from it, yet I hope you may hinder much of the ill ; first, by putting divisions among them concerning the legality of their elec- tions, then by protestations against their tumultu- ous proceedings. And, I think, it were not amiss if you could get their freedom defined (before their meeting) so that it were not done too much in their favour.” In this same style of double-dealing he had, in the preceding month of June, secretly in- structed Hamilton as follows : — “ I give you leave to flatter them with what hopes you please, so you engage not me against my grounds, and in par- ticular that you consent neither to the calling of parliament nor General Assembly until the covenant be disavowed and given up, your chief end being to win time that they may not commit public follies until I be ready to suppress them. * * * * This I have written to no other end than to show you I will rather die than yield to those impertinent and damnable demands, (as you rightly call them) for it is all one as to yield to be no king in a very short time.”* * Peterkin’s Records of the Kirk of Scotland, pp. 69, 81, 93. h iviii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO On the other hand the friends of truth and liberty were at least equally resolute. In a long, elabo- rate, and able “ protestation” which they drew up, about two months before the Assembly met, they insist “that all questions and doubts that arise concerning the freedom of the Assembly, whether in the constitution and members thereof, or in the matters to be treated, or in the manner and order of proceeding, be remitted to the determination of the Assembly itself, as the only proper and compe- tent judge. And that it shall be lawful for us, being authorized with lawful commissions, as at other times when the urgent necessity of the kirk shall require, so in this exigence to assemble our- selves at the diet appointed, notwithstanding every impediment or prorogation to the contrary. And being assembled, against all qualifications or pre- suppositions, to propose, treat, reason, vote, and conclude according to the word of God, Confession of Faith, and acts of lawful Assemblies, in all ecclesiastical matters pertaining to the Assembly, and tending to the advancement of the kingdom of Christ and good of religion.”* These brief extracts may suffice to show the exact identity of this momentous contest with that of the first reformation. On one side we see the determination to bind the conscience by human laws, and to subject the government of the church of Christ to secular control ; on the other a settled purpose to be subject in such matters to the will and authority of the Lord alone, as declared in His own unerring and eternal word. Such were the memorable circumstances in which the Assembly met at Glasgow, on the 21st of November, 1638. Hamilton, as the king’s commissioner, met that venerable body prepared to maintain Erastianism by every contrivance which the intrigues of the most unscrupulous diplomacy or the threats of offended power could employ. But a watchful providence had raised up, not only in the Assem- bly as a whole, but pre-eminently in the person of its illustrious moderator, Alexander Henderson, a defender of the great interests which were then at stake, whom policy was as impotent to beguile as power was to terrify into submission. The com- missioner finding it impossible either to entangle or to intimidate the Assembly, at length took the decided step of dissolving and leaving it. At that critical moment the least irresolution must have been fatal to the liberties of the church and king- dom. But the “ worthies” of the Glasgow Assem- bly and their great leader were equal to the emergency. “ All that are here know,” said Henderson, addressing the Assembly when the * Peterkin’s Records, p. 89. commissioner had withdrawn, “ the reasons of the meeting of this Assembly; and albeit we have ac- knowledged the power of Christian kings for con- vening of Assemblies and their power in Assem- blies, yet that may not derogate from Christ’s right, for He hath given divine warrants to convo- cate Assemblies whether magistrates consent or not; therefore, seeing we perceive men to be so zealous of their master’s commands, have we not also good reason to be zealous toward our Lord and to main- tain the liberties and privileges of His kingdom. Ye all know that the work in hand has had many difficulties, and God has borne us through them all to this day; therefore it becometh us not to be discouraged now by anything that has intervened, but rather to double our courage when we seem to be deprived of human authority.” In this high tone of calm and Christian determination the Assembly went forward in their work, nor did they hold their hand until they had removed every one of those unscriptural innovations, in the worship, discipline, and government of the church, which the king and his father had introduced. They declared null and void the pretended Assemblies from 1606 to 1618 inclusive, which in the capa- city of royal tools had been employed to undo the church’s original constitution. They condemned the service-book, the canons, the high commission, the articles of Perth, and the whole system of prelacy ; restoring at the same time in all its in- tegrity the presbyterian platform which Knox and Melville had laid down. The prelates, fourteen in number, who had been the chief instruments in corrupting the church and in subverting its liber- ties, and who were besides guilty of various flagrant immoralities, were some of them suspended, some deposed, and some excommunicated according to the extent and nature of their crimes. “And now,” said the moderator, when at length, after a month’s incessant labour, the business of this memorable Assembly had been brought to a close, “ we are quit of thd service-book, which was a book of slavery and service indeed ; the book of canons which tied us in spiritual bondage ; the book of ordination which was a yoke put upon the necks of faithful ministers ; and the high commission which was a guard to keep us all under that slavery. All these evils God has rid us of, and likewise of the civil places of kirkmen which was the splendour of all these evils, and the Lord has led captivity captive and made lords slaves. What should we do less than resolve, first, since the Lord has granted us liberty to labour, to be sensible of it and take notice of it ; for we are like to a man newly awakened out of a dream, or like a man that has lain long in irons, who after they are taken off and THE SCOTS WORTHIES. I he redeemed, he feels not his liberty, but thinks the irons are on him still. So it is with us. We do not feel our liberty; therefore it were good for us to study to know the bounds of our liberty wherewith Christ has set us free, and then again to labour earnestly that we be no more entangled with the yoke of bondage.”* And finally, when the benediction had been pronounced, the moderator dismissed the Assembly with these pregnant and striking words : “We have now cast down the walls of Jericho, let him that rebuildeth them beware of the curse of Hiel the Bethelite.”f In a former part of this Essay it was remarked that twice, during the period which elapsed between the great settlement of 1592 and the revolution of 1688, were the constitution and liberties of the presbyterian Church of Scotland overthrown ; and that, in both cases, the triumph of the oppressor, by a somewhat curious coincidence, lasted exactly eight and twenty years. The former of these dark passages in the church’s history we have now briefly surveyed. The interval that immediately preceded it we characterized as a season of inces- sant, insidious, and cruel temptation. The interval which followed it, and at which we have now arrived, we represented as possessing a character altogether different ; as a season of revival and reformation. During this breathing time, so sud- denly and so wonderfully vouchsafed, the charac- teristic principles of the Scottish Worthies were de- veloped in still greater completeness than even in the settlement of 1592. Under that settlement, as we specially noticed in describing it, lay patronage was still retained ; and so far a pretext, at least, was re- served for the intrusion of the civil power into the spiritual concerns of the church. This noxious element, resting as it did on a civil statute, it was not of course in the power of the Glasgow Assem- bly, as a merely ecclesiastical court, to remove. But that Assembly did in this matter what it could. It revived the principle of non-intrusion, and took measures to have it practically and faithfully en- forced in the calling and settlement of ministers. And the church, taught by experience, being now bent on more thoroughly guarding both the inde- pendence of her courts and the spiritual privileges of her people, pressed urgently upon parliament the duty of abolishing lay patronage altogether. The Second Book of Discipline had noted it down as one of the “ heads of reformation to be craved.” It was craved subsequently to the Glasgow Assem- bly, again and again; and at length, in the year * Peterkin’s Records, pp. 190, 191. *1 See Appendix to this work for a full report of the pro- ceedings of the Assembly of 1638. lix 1649, this last remaining link of the chain of bond- age was struck off, and for once the state seemed content to concede to her the full liberty wherewith Christ had made her free. The preamble to the act by which this was effected is not unworthy of notice, as containing an unequivocal testimony to the fact that the opposition to patronage in which | our great modern conflict began, is one of those | outstanding features which go to identify that con- flict with the struggles of our reforming forefathers. “ Considering,” says the act 1649, “that patron- ages and presentations of kirks is an evil and bond- age, under which the Lord’s people and ministers of this land have long groaned, and that it hath no warrant in the word of God, but is founded only on the canon law, and is a custom merely popish, brought into the kirk in time of ignorance and superstition ; and that the same is contrary to the Second Book of Discipline, in which upon solid and good ground it is reckoned among abuses that are j desired to be reformed, and unto several acts of! General Assemblies ; and that it is prejudicial to the liberty of the people and planting of kirks, and unto the free calling and entries of ministers unto their charge ; and the said estates being wil- ling and desirous to promote and advance the re- formation aforesaid, that everything in the house of God may be ordered according to His will and commandment, do discharge for ever hereafter all patronages and presentations of kirks, whether belonging to the king or any laic patron, presbyteries, or others within this kingdom.” In this memorable enactment not only is the griev- ance done away, but that which is solemnly alleged as the reason for abolishing it, imbodies an explicit recognition of that fundamental principle of the Re- formation, — the principle which runs through all the contendings of the Scottish Worthies, — the princi- ple which lies at the bottom of our recent contest, ' — that the word of God is the only rule of faith, and that by it alone is the church of Christ to be J governed, not only in her doctrine and worship, but | in her whole policy and discipline. We have had occasion to remark how, in the preceding period of defection, the subversion of scriptural discipline led to the introduction of doctrinal heresies. It is instructive to observe, on the other hand, that the restoration of discipline to the ancient scriptural platform, was immediately and extensively followed by the growth of evangelical truth and of vital godliness. Speaking of the state of Scotland, in regard to religion, towards the close of the period with which we are now engaged, Kirkton gives his testimony in these unqualified terms : “At the king’s return,” that is, at the re- storation of Charles II., “ every parish had a lx HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO minister, every village had a school, every family almost had a Bible ; yea, in most of the country all the children of age could read the Scriptures, and were provided of Bibles either by their parents or ministers. Every minister was a very full profes- sor of the Reformed religion, ‘according to the large Confession of Faith framed at Westminster. None of them might be scandalous in their conver- sation, or negligent in their office, so long as a presbytery stood. I have lived many years in a parish where I never heard an oath, and you might have ridden many miles before you heard any. Also you could not, for a great part of the country, have lodged in a family where the Lord was not worshipped, by reading, singing, and public prayer. Nobody complained more of our church govern- ment than our taverners, whose ordinary lamen- tation was, their trade was broke, people were become so sober.”* Strong as this statement is, “ it is fully borne out,” as the younger M‘Crie remarks, “ by that of other witnesses as unimpeach- able as honest Kirkton.”f The years which intervened between the Glas- gow Assembly and the restoration of Charles II., though crowded with important events, do not require any lengthened notice in the present Essay. Undoubtedly the greatest of these events, both in a religious and in a political point of view, was the adoption in 1643 of the Solemn League and Covenant ; “a document,” to use the eloquent language of Mr Hetherington, in his able and deeply interesting History of the Church of Scot- land, “ which we may be pardoned for terming the noblest, in its essential nature and principles, of all that are recorded among the international transac- tions of the world. * * * * The great principles of that bond are those of the Bible itself. It may be that Britain was not then, and is not yet, in a fit state to receive them, and to make them her principles and rules of national government and law. But they are not on that account untrue, nor even im- 1 practicable ; and the glorious predictions of inspired Scripture foretell a time when they will be more than realized, and when all the kingdoms of this earth shall become the kingdoms of Jehovah and his Anointed, and shall all be united in one Solemn League and Covenant under the King of kings and Lord of lords. And though that time may yet be far distant, who may presume to say that the seem- ingly premature and ineffectual attempt to realize it, by the heavenly- minded patriarchs of Scotland’s Second Reformation, was not the first faint strug- gling daybeam piercing the world’s thick darkness, and revealing to the eye of faith an earnest of the i ; * Kirkton’s History of the Church of Scotland, pp. 63, 64. + M'Crie’s Sketches, p. 371. Sun of Righteousness ! True, the clouds soon dark- : ened down and hid that herald daybeam, but not less certainly does the day approach, although its dawning beam may be shaded in the deepest gloom. A sacred principle was then infused into the heart of nations which cannot perish ; a light then shone into the world’s darkness which cannot be ex- tinguished ; and generations not remote may see that principle quickening and evolving in all its irresistible might, and that fight bursting forth in its all-brightening glory.”* The doubt hinted in this passage as to Britain’s fitness, either then or now, to receive, imbody, and enforce in her laws and government the principles which the Solemn League and Covenant lays down might be used, were it consistent with the design of this Essay, to suggest some interesting questions in relation to the whole subject of the union of church and state. Undeniably it is only on thef footing of a recognised and real subjection to the Lord Jesus Christ as King of nations, that any kingdom is in a condition to form a bona jide scrip- tural union with His church and to recognise His sole right to reign over it as King of saints. That Britain is very far from making any such national recognition of her obligation to regulate and ad- minister her government in accordance with Christ’s will, revealed in His word, at present, is too pain- fully manifest. While this Essay is issuing from the writer’s pen, the British legislature, the representative of the national mind and will, has been debating for nine days whether or not it shall enter into an alliance with antichrist by establishing or at least endowing the church of Rome in Ireland. And if this fatal measure has not been determined on at once, it is only because certain political difficulties appear for the time to stand in the way. Scripture truth instead of being made, in the discussion of the question, the standard of appeal, was avowedly and expressly repudiated as an authority which it were bigotry to name. State convenience, and not the word of God, was the only principle which parlia- ment would consent to take for its guide. The Free Church of Scotland has had no cause to wonder that by such a legislature her claims to spiritual independence should have been disallowed. And, perhaps, a close examination of the national authorities with which the church has had to deal > all along, might suggest at least a suspicion whether | at any time they were materially different from the 1 present. At some periods the infusion of the Bible ele- ment may have been greater in the ruling powers 1 j than at others ; and certain it is, that more than 1 1 * Hetherington’s History of the Church of Scotland, pp. j 333-335. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. once, in Scotland, as at 1567, 1592, 1649, and 1690, it was with more or less directness acknow- ledged as supreme. And yet how far, even at these remarkable times, the admission was either sua sponte or bona fide on the part of the state, — was either a willing or a sincere acknowledgment of subjection to Christ, — is fairly open to question. Indubitable it is, that in the main the current of state influence has been governed and directed by principles altogether diverse from those of the word of God; and hostile, as we have seen, to the liberties of the church of Christ. It were, indeed, to adopt a conclusion, most rash and unfounded to suppose, that these liberties would have been more secure, as M‘ Gavin in his edition of the Scottish Worthies hastily assumes, had the church been unconnected with the state altogether. The primi- tive church was not the less oppressed and perse- cuted that it had no alliance with the civil power. As has been already noticed, however, to discuss a subject, so important and intricate, incidentally, would be only to do it injustice. Our present object and limits both forbid us to enter further on it here. The only period which it now remains to notice, ns connected with the contendings and sufferings of the Scottish Worthies, is that which intervened between the restoration and the revolution . Scarcely I had Charles H. regained the throne of his ances- j tors, when the despotic and persecuting spirit of his | infatuated race reappeared — a spirit which already had cost his father his head, and which, ere long, ' was to cost his family their crown. The oath of allegiance which was tendered at the first meeting of parliament gave unequivocal indication of what was to be anticipated under the new monarch’s reign. It involved a complete subversion of the liberties of the church of Scotland, by acknowledg- ing the king as supreme “ in all causes,” and bound all who received it to acquiesce in a jurisdiction which stretched alike over spiritual as over civil affairs. All this, it is true, was not in so many words proclaimed: but the language of the oath was so framed as to embrace it all. The attack, however, on the spiritual freedom of the church, i and on all those rights and privileges she and her I people had so dearly won, was not long to be masked beneath the cunning phraseology of the oath of allegiance. The act rescissory which imme- diately followed, at one sweep obliterated from the Scottish Statute Book every trace of those liberties which the legislation of the twenty-eight years preceding had so fully, and carefully, and solemnly secured. N ever did anarchy, in its wildest and most lawless mood, perpetrate a deed more revolutionary than this. Not only did it make a wholesale repeal lxi of innumerable acts of parliament, but, in the true spirit of Jacobinism, it annihilated the parliaments themselves. King James spent eighteen years, from 1592 till 1610, in subverting the religious principles and the ecclesiastical constitution which the struggles of the first reformation had evolved and secured. His grandson prostrated the noble edifice which the second reformation had reared in a single session of parliament. And having thus levelled the defences of presbyterianism, he pro- ceeded, with the same high-handed tyranny, to re- store obnoxious prelacy. The terms in which this act, for “the restoration and re-establishment of the ancient government of the church by archbishops and bishops,” asserts the royal supremacy in matters ecclesiastical, are of the most unqualified kind. The act begins by setting forth, that “ the ordering and disposal of the external government and policy of the church, doth properly belong unto his majesty, as an inherent right of the crown.” And, perhaps, no better or more conclusive evidence, on the other hand, could be desired of the completeness with which the opposite doctrine, of the church’s spiritual liberty, under the Lord Jesus Christ, as her only head and king, had previously been recognised and ratified by law, than that which this very statute affords. The precise and pointed language it was necessary to employ, in order to withdraw that liberty, is the best possible proof how thoroughly it had before been acknowledged and allowed. The act in question, 1662. c. 2, “ casses and annuls all acts of parliament by which the sole and only power and jurisdiction within this church doth stand in the church , and in the general , provincial , and presbyterial assemblies and kirk sessions; and all acts of parliament or council which may be inter- preted to have given any church power, jurisdiction, or government to the office-bearers of the church at their respective meetings, other than that which acknowledged a dependence upon and subordination to the sovereign power of the king as supreme; and which is to be regulated and authorized by the archbishops and bishops, who are to put order to all ecclesiastical matters and causes, and to be ac- countable to his majesty for their administration .” “ At this time the enactments subsequent to 1638 had all been swept away by the general act rescis- sory of the preceding session, and so the acts of parliament, here referred to, were of course the act 1592 specially mentioned, and previous acts ratifying the ‘ liberty’ of the church; the act 1592 being the only one in which general and provincial Assem- blies and presbyteries were mentioned by name. Now what is the construction which in this statute 1662 is put on the act 1592? and where does it hold the sole government and jurisdiction of the Ixii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO church to be thereby acknowledged to stand? Unquestionably the act 1662 held that by the statute 1592 ‘the sole and only power and jurisdiction within the church ,’ was acknowledged ‘ to stand in the church ’ and her several church courts there enumerated ; and, further, that ‘ the sole and only power of jurisdiction’ so standing in them did ! not acknowledge ‘ a dependence upon and subordi- nation to the sovereign power of the king as supreme.’ | We have thus the acknowledgment of the keenest supporters of the doctrine of the supremacy of the civil magistrate over the church, that under the presbyterian church government, as established by law in 1592, the sole power and jurisdiction with- in the church did stand in the church and church courts, independent of and not subordinate to the supreme civil power.”* In regard to the radical change thus effected on this fundamental point, in the constitution of the church and kingdom of Scotland, Mr Dunlop justly remarks, that it lay at the bottom of all the strug- gles and persecutions which followed. ‘ ‘ The king’s supremacy over all persons and in all causes was separately asserted by other acts of parliament, (1661. c. 11. and 1669. c. 1.) and the acknowledg- ment of, or refusal to acknowledge this supremacy in matters ecclesiastical was substantially the ‘ test,' the pressing of which on the people was the occa- sion of the horrible persecution consequent on the restoration. Indeed it may be truly affirmed, that the refusal to acknowledge this asserted supremacy, was truly the cause of all the sufferings of the per- secuted presbyterians of that bloody period; and that they might at once have escaped from their sufferings, if they would only have acknowledged it. The atrocious barbarities to which the people of Scotland were on this account subjected, has only engraven more deeply on the heart of the nation, the great doctrine of the sole supremacy of Christ in his church, and perpetuated their repugnance and horror at the assertion of such supremacy by any civil authority.” f With this undoubted fact standing out so promi- nently in the history of the dark and gloomy period with which we are now engaged, it will be unneces- sary to enter into any minute investigation of the events which so painfully distinguished that memor- able time, in order to identify the principles for which its confessors and martyrs suffered, with those of the Free Church of Scotland. The royal supre- macy in matters ecclesiastical was first brought to | bear as an engine of persecution upon the clergy. * Dunlop’s Answer to Dean of Faculty’s Letter to the Lord Chancellor, pp. 70, 71. + Dunlop’s Answer, p. 70. The privy council, immediately after the rising of j parliament in 1662, published an act to enforce the j authority of the diocesan meetings or bishops’ courts, j j which were now put in the room of the provincial 1 1 Assemblies of the presbyterian church. To attend j j such meetings would have been not only to acqui- [ j esce in the prelatic form of church government, but ; directly to recognise the Erastian doctrine of sub- | jection, in matters spiritual, to the civil power. The diocesan meetings accordingly were all but universally shunned by the presbyterian ministers. But even this passive resistance to the tyranny which had so suddenly trampled in the dust the most sacred rights of a religious people, was not to be endured. The earl of Middleton, the king’s commissioner, a rude and profligate soldier, came, in the course of the same year to Glasgow, on what might justly be called a tour of debauchery and persecution. Fairfoul, the archbishop, having laid before him a formal complaint as to the non-attend- ance of the ministers at the diocesan court, had little difficulty in inducing him to pass an act ol council, to compel their subjection, and that in the most unequivocal form, to the new order of things. Nor is it unworthy of notice that the instrument employed for this purpose was the law of patronage. We have had occasion to notice the connexion of that obnoxious law with both prelacy and Erastian- ism in an early part of this Essay ; and it is not uninstructive to find it again used in the dark and bloody reign of Charles II., as it has been in the present more enlightened and civilized age, as a wedge to rend asunder the church of Scotland. The proposal of Fairfoul was to banish from their charges and benefices all ministers inducted subse- quently to 1649, the year in which patronage had been abolished, who did not within a month pro- cure presentations from the patrons and submit to be admitted de novo to their parishes under the authority of the prelates. Although the passage has been often quoted in which bishop Burnet describes the meeting of privy council at which the wedge of persecution was thus driven home, the fact it relates is too characteristic to be omitted. “ They were all so drunk that day that they were not capable of considering anything which was laid before them, and would hear of nothing but the executing the law without any relenting or delay.”* Such is the levity with which the best interests of a country are often scattered to the winds, by reck- less statesmen. The archbishop assured Middleton and his colleagues that not ten ministers in his diocese would hesitate about yielding to the act in question when their livings were at stake. Perhaps * Burnet’s History of His Own Times, Vol. I. p. 154. a credulous cabinet may have had Fairfouls to tell them a similar story in 1843. Worldly politicians are almost always out in their reckoning where conscience is concerned. It is an element for which their calculations make little or no allowance. But conscience made the “ act of Glasgow” convulse, not a handful of parishes in a single diocese, for a day or a year, but a whole kingdom, and that for a quarter of a century ; — made that act the means, not, of securing a mitre, but, of overturning a throne. Instead of ten ministers, two hundred in one day, forsook all, that they might follow Christ. The act being soon after brought to bear on other districts, the number of the u outed ministers” rose almost imme- diately to about four hundred ; of these men, bishop Burnet bears the following honourable testimony. “ They used to visit their parishes much, and were so full of the Scriptures and so ready at extempore prayer, that from that they grew to practise ex- tempore sermons. They had brought the people to such a degree of knowledge that cottagers and servants would have prayed extempore. By these means they had a comprehension of matters of re- ligion greater than I have seen among that sort of people anywhere. As they lived in great familiarity with their people, and used to pray and to talk oft with them in private, so it can hardly be imagined to what a degree they were reverenced and loved by them.”* To trace the history of the fierce and bloody persecutions with which these men of God, and the faithful Christian people who cast in their lot with them were followed, is not the province of this Essay. Of the light in which they themselves re- garded their sufferings, we may offer to the reader one or two brief statements of their own, by way of illustration. It will be seen at a glance how closely they serve to identify the arduous struggle in which they were engaged, with the controversy of our own ! times. “ I have great peace,” writes Mr John Livingstone, minister of Ancrum, to his parishion- ers on being compelled to leave his charge, “ in the matter of my suffering. I need not repeat, you heard my testimony of the things in controversy ; Jesus Christ is a King, and only hath power to appoint the affairs and government of his house. I think I may say I could have been well content, although it had been with many discouragements and straits, to have gone on and served you all as I could, in the gospel of Jesus Christ ; but the prerogative royal of J esus Christ, and the peace of a man’s own con- science, are not to be violated on any considera- tion : neither hath there been a blessing on ought that is done against them.” Let one other suffice, * Burnet’s History, p. 153. and it is that, not of a minister, but of a private member of the flock of Christ, a humble Christian woman. “ Let enemies and pretended friends say what they will,” said Isobel Alison, who laid down her life in the cause to which she bears this testi- mony, “ I could have my life on no easier terms than the denying of Christ’s kingly office ; thus I laydown my life for adhering to Jesus Christ, his being a free king in his own house. I bless the Lord that ever he called me to this.”* In the course of the twenty-eight years during which this persecution raged it has been computed that not fewer than eighteen thousand persons were directly visited, in one form or other, with penal inflictions, multitudes by heavy fines, and by the exactions of a brutal soldiery who were quar- tered upon peaceful families, till, like the devouring locust, they had left nothing behind, were reduced to poverty. Nearly two thousand were banished to the plantations, of whom a large number perished by shipwreck, while many more pined and died amid the privations of exile. A still greater num- ber were cast into prisons and loathsome dungeons. Not a few were subjected to tortures the very recital of which makes men’s blood run cold. Nearly four hundred were judicially murdered by [ form of law, while more than an equal number ! were put to death without even the mockery of a ' trial. “ But,” as Defoe has beautifully remarked, u it would be endless to enumerate the names of the sufferers ; and it has not been possible to come at the certain number of those ministers or others, who died in prison and banishment, there being no record preserved of their prosecution in any court of justice. Nor could any roll of their names be preserved in those times of confusion anywhere, but under the altar and about the throne of the Lamb, where their heads are crowned and their I white robes seen, and where an exact account of i their number will at last be found.”f Verily there is a God that judgeth in the earth: ! and though He be slow to wrath, yet is He of ; great power, and will not at all acquit the wicked, j The persecuting house of Stewart had at length filled up the measure of their iniquity; they had been weighed in the balances and found wanting. By the memorable and glorious revolution of 1688 their kingdom was taken from them and given to another. It is not our purpose to enter on the wide field of discussion into which the settlement, obtained by * For these and a multitude of similar testimonies, see the Rev. John Anderson’s “ Footsteps of the Flock a small but singularly seasonable and interesting work. f Memoirs of the Church of Scotland, as quoted in M‘Crie’s Sketches, pp. 551, 552. lxiv HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO the church at the revolution, might easily introduce us. That it was not free from defects, every candid student of history must at once allow. What it chiefly, if not exclusively, belongs to this Essay to show, is simply this, that in the main it allowed and ratified the grand characteristic principles of the Scots W orthies. The very first act of king William’s first parliament (act 1690, c. 1.) abolished the royal supremacy in matters ecclesiastical, as “ in- consistent with the establishment of the church government now desired;” a clear admission, on the part of the legislature, that freedom from civil con- trol in things spiritual was, and had always been, a fundamental distinction of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. In further confirmation of the church’s restored liberties, the act in question (ch. 5.) de- clares it to be the bounden duty of the king and estates of parliament “to settle and secure * * * * the government of Christ’s church within this nation, agreeable to the word of God." With this view, it revived the act 1592, entitled, “ ratification of the liberty of the True Kirk.” At the same time it ratified the Confession of Faith: a confes- sion which pointedly and explicitly declares that “ the Lord Jesus Christ, as King and Head of his church, hath therein appointed a government in the hand of church officers, distinct from the civil magistrate:” and, further, expressly affirms that u the civil magistrate may not assume to himself the administration of the word and sacraments, nor the power of the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” Along with this repudiation of Erastianism, prelacy and lay patronage, the two main pillars on which it had ever leant for support, were cast out from the Church of Scotland. And, while the principles of the Worthies were thus once more recognised and honoured, the men themselves, by whom these principles had been so resolutely asserted, were restored to their rightful position. The act 1690, c. 5. re-establishing the presbyterian church govern- ment, allowed and declared “that the church government must be established in the hands of, and be exercised by, those presbyterian ministers who were outed since the 1st of January, 1661, &c., and such ministers and elders only as they have admitted or received, or shall hereafter admit and receive.” We have now run over in this historical sketch the entire period which the contendings and suffer- ings of the Scots Worthies embrace, — a period of no less than one hundred and sixty years, extend- ing from the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, in 1528, to the accession of king William, at the revolution. And brief and rapid though our sketch has unavoidably been, the facts which it presents can hardly fail to satisfy the reader of the truth of what was stated near the beginning of the Essay r that “ the distinguishing principles of the Scots i Worthies” were, “in other words, the distinguish- ing principles of the Reformation.” The sufficiency | of Scripture as the only rule of faith and manners, was that on which they took their stand at the outset, and on which they maintained their grand, contest to its close. First, in vindicating evangeli- cal doctrine, and afterwards in framing and uphold- ing a right system of church government and disci- pline, — their uniform object was to maintain the supremacy of the Lord Jesus Christ, speaking by his Spirit in the Word. Whether it was in con- tending, at the first reformation, against the doc- trinal errors and corruptions of the Church of Rome, or after the first, and throughout the whole of the second reformation, in resisting the Erastian usurpa- tions of the civil power, the ground on which they stood was substantially the same, viz. — that the church has no liberty to believe or do any thing but what her divine Head has, in the Scriptures ot truth, taught and ordained. And, having thus endeavoured to set forth and illustrate the real nature of the principles for which the Scots Worthies contended and suffered, it only remains in bringing this Essay to a conclusion, to point out very shortly their substantial identity with those now witnessed for by the Free Church oi Scotland. To a great extent, indeed, this has been ! already done. In prosecuting our narrative the j points of coincidence were so continually forcing 1 themselves on our observation as almost to render j unnecessary any special and separate discussion. To any one at all conversant with our recent con- troversy, the history we have surveyed will, I feel confidently assured, be more than enough to de- monstrate its entire accordance, in every essential particular, with the struggles of our reforming j ancestors. A mere summary of that controversy is therefore all that is needful, and we shall not i attempt to detain the reader with anything more.* To understand and appreciate the recent contro- ; versy, it will be indispensable to glance for a moment * The history of the eventful controversy which led in May, 1843, to the *' disruption” of the church, deserves and requires to he recorded in full ; nor can it ever he done so accurately or so well as now. Time will soon involve in uncertainty, or distort into erroneous shapes, facts and cir- cumstances which at present are well known or can be easily ascertained. The cause of truth demands that such a work should be written, and posterity will complain if it be neglect- ed. Owing entirely to certain advantages of his position, the writer has been more than once urged to undertake the task. Its magnitude and difficulty, together with the want of sufficient leisure, have, however, deterred him from attempt- ing it. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. Ixv | at a few of the outstanding events in the history of the Church of Scotland, and bearing immediately on that controversy, which occurred between the revolution settlement and the year 1834. The first and most prominent of these was the restora- tion of lay patronage by the act of queen Anne in the year 1711. This act, as bishop Burnet states, and as is notorious to all acquainted with its origin, was “ made on design to weaken and undermine” the presbyterian establishment. The passing of it was, moreover, an unquestionable breach of the Treaty of Union between the two kingdoms, entered into only four years before, — a treaty by which the entire constitution, rights, liberties, and privileges of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland had been put beyond the interference of the British parliament, and declared to be u unalterable for ever.” The church protested against the act as a gross injustice and a grievous wrong. The feeling of indignation and alarm which prevailed on the subject among the people of Scotland was so unanimous and so strong, that for some years no patron ventured to assume the obnoxious power which the act con- veyed. The poison, however, began at length to work ; at first by slow degrees, but in the lapse of time, with a rapidity and a virulence which had nearly extinguished the spiritual life of the church. Infidelity, which already had been rising into the ascendant on the Continent and in England, was, beyond all question, mightily aided by the act of queen Anne in gaining that destructive eminence, which, in the latter half of the 18th century it reached in Scotland. What must have been the condition of a church in whose supreme court a proposal, made in 1796 to countenance the cause of missions, was scouted out of doors with contempt and scorn ! And what must have been the pre- ceding amount of spiritual desolation and death which this climax of iniquity crowned, when in the course of the discussion which the proposal called forth, an aged minister, of the school which that infidel period had reared, could stand up in his place and say, “ I have on various occasions, during a period of almost half-a-century, had the honour of being a member of the General Assembly, yet this is the first time I remember to have ever heard such a proposal made, and I cannot help also think- ing it the worst time.”* It was during this dreary period the patronage law of queen Anne was in full and unmitigated operation, enforced in the church courts by the party which it did so much to create, with a rigour and a relentless cruelty which the act itself, bad as it * Speech of Rev. Dr Carlyle ; vide the Two Parties in the Church of Scotland, by Hugh Miller, p. 22. was, had never been understood — till the Auchter- arder decision was pronounced — to have at all necessitated or required. That act professed to do no more than take the nomination of ministers to parishes from the heritors and elders, to whom that privilege had been conceded by the act 1690, and give it to the lay patrons. In all other respects it left both the congregations and the presbyteries concerned in the very position which they enjoyed under the revolution settlement. It expressly pro- vided that presbyteries were to “receive and admit in the same manner such qualified person or persons, minister or ministers, as shall be presented by the respective patrons as the persons or minis- ters presented before the making of this act ought to have been admitted .” The right of the people, there- fore, to approve or disapprove, and the right of the presbyteries to give or withhold their consent, in the case of any presentee coming before them, as it was thus distinctly reserved by the statute it§elf, so was it frequently acted on and enforced during that century by the church courts, and that without challenge in the courts of law. Indeed, the com- petency of the church courts to consent or refuse to settle a presentee, rested on other and still more unequivocal authority. The statute 1567, ratified by the settlement of 1592, and again revived by the settlement of 1690, had provided and declared, that “ the examination and admission of ministers shall be only in the power of the Kirk ;” while, in addi- tion to this, all those other statutes which recog- nise the churcji’s right to put order “ to all matters and causey ecclesiastical,” implied of necessity that the ordaining or declining to ordain of any man to the office of the holy ministry, and the setting or not setting of him over a portion of the flock of God, must be exclusively under the cognizance of the presbyteries, synods, and assemblies of the church. Accordingly, all through the 18th century the evangelical party in the Church of Scotland, even when reduced by the disastrous influences above noticed to a small and despised minority, continued to protest against the wrong which the “forced settlements,” then in fashion, were doing, as not only injurious to the interests of religion, but as being wantonly and ultroneously perpetrated by the church courts, in disregard of the liberty which the law of patronage itself conceded to the people. At length a change began to pass upon the Church of Scotland. The speculative infidelity which had been so fashionable when confined to the writings of the philosophers and literati, and when it led to no other visible consequences but the dissipation and profligacy of the higher ranks of society, assumed altogether a different aspect in the eyes of the great world when it was seen in HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO lxvi France taking a practical form and bringing forth among the masses its legitimate fruits. The shaking of thrones, the confiscation of property, the incessant clank of the guillotine, and all the other horrors of the French revolution, revealed to the terrified aristocracy of Great Britain the abyss of ruin to which infidelity was fast hurrying their country and themselves. The effect of this dis- covery was immediate, and its influence on the exercise of lay patronage in the churches of both England and Scotland was undeniably great. The evangelical party came into a measure of favour to which they had long been strangers. It was seen | that their principles, and not those of moderatism, j had power to touch the heart and beget in it that fear of God which is the only sure foundation of true loyalty. The tide now fairly turned, and each successive year of the present century witnessed a constant accession to the ranks of evangelism in the courts and parishes of the Church of Scotland. In the year 1834 the evangelical party at length ac- quired a majority in the Assembly, and from that I day a new and memorable era in the Church’s j history began. For some years before, indeed, the j growth of their numbers and influence had been infusing a different and better spirit into the Church’s i proceedings. Missions, formerly trampled on, had i been set on foot by the Church herself. A struggle had commenced, and already had been successful in many of the inferior courts, for the restoration of their rightful position and liberties, in the settle- ment of their ministers, to the Christian people. Many were demanding the entire abolition of lay patronage, while the whole evangelical party were insisting that, at the least, the principle of non- intrusion laid down in the church’s books of dis- cipline, and so often imbodied in her laws, should no longer be disregarded. In this movement con- siderations of expediency induced some even of the moderate party to join. A formidable attack was at that moment in progress against all the national religious establishments of the empire ; and it required but a very common measure of worldly sagacity to perceive that the likeliest way to pro- tect their own establishment against such assailants, was to secure its hold over the affections, by seat- l ing it deeper in the esteem and confidence of its own people. The system which had already driven one-third of the population out of the communion of the na- tional church, — the system of high-handed patron- age, — was now seen to need some remedy, even by many who were altogether blind to its unscrip - tural character, and to the deep injury it had done to vital godliness throughout the land. Such is a brief summary of the circumstances in which the third reformation began. In the year 1834, the General Assembly, under the guidance of an evangelical majority, passed two acts, which both in themselves, and in their consequences, will render that year memorable in the religious history of Scotland, of Britain, perhaps of the world. The former of these was the act which since has become a household word under the name of the veto law. The latter was the chapel act, — erecting chapels of ease into parochial churches, quoad sacra. Both these measures proceeded on the principles of the church’s original constitution, the one recognising and enforcing a right which the church’s standards and law had always declared to belong to congre- gations, viz., that no “pastor should be intruded on them contrary to their will.” The other restor- ing to certain ministers, who, under the regime of moderatism, had been placed in a position altoge- ther unpresbyterian and anomalous, the full powers and functions of their office. In passing the veto law, the Assembly had the express concurrence of the law officers of the crown, and the adoption of it called forth immedi- ately a high eulogy both on the law and its promo- ters, from the then Lord Chancellor,* the highest legal functionary in the kingdom. The church was therefore fully warranted to believe that her law was as much in harmony with civil rights, as she knew it to be in harmony with her own con- stitution. Her competency to frame such a law, in so far as its ecclesiastical authority and effects were concerned, she held to be inherent, and not dependent on the allowance of the civil power. But at the same time, the fact now noticed, gave her a sufficient warrant to believe that it travened no civil statute, and must therefore be good to civil effects also. Again, in passing the chapel act, the Assembly, in addition to immemorial usage, had the prece- dent of the Assembly 1833, which, by virtue of ecclesiastical authority alone admitted to seats in church courts, and to a parochial status, quoad sacra , the ministers of the forty churches erect- ed a few years before in the Highlands, and commonly known by the name of the parliamen- tary churches. That step had been taken on the report of a committee, of which the leader of the moderate party, Dr Cook, was convener, and which numbered among its members, the late lord presi- dent Hope, the present lord justice general Boyle, and the present lord justice clerk Hope. The adoption of the chapel act therefore in 1834, seemed to be as little likely to be questioned on civil and legal grounds, as on grounds spiritual and ecclesiastical. * Lord Brougham. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. lxvii Nor was it a mere expenditure of barren legis- } lation by which the ascendancy of the evangelical | party was distinguished. The reformation work on which they entered was thoroughly practical, and told immediately, powerfully, and extensively on the whole character and spirit of the church as a religious institution. “ In one single year , and by the meeting of next General Assembly, there were in progress towards erection, by voluntary contribution, sixty -two new churches in connection with the establishment, being exactly the number which had been so erected in the whole course of the preceding century. “ At the end of five years, the number of new churches so erected or in progress was 201, being an addition of more than one- fifth to the whole number of churches in the establishment in 1834. “By the same period intercourse had been restored with more than one foreign protestant church, the intolerant ban of non-communion had been removed from the English and Irish presby- terian churches, and the first step thus made to- wards a return in practice to the catholic principles of our Confession. * “ Three new schemes of Christian benevolence had been instituted by the church ; that of church ex- tension in 1834 ; that for the aid of presbyterian settlers in the colonies in 1836 ; and that for the I conversion of the Jews in 1838 ; while those pre- viously established for education and foreign mis- sions, were prosecuted with increased activity and zeal. “The healthful exercise of discipline was re- stored, and the church purged of worthless minis- ters, who in other days would have found protec- tion and shelter. “ The oversight of presbyteries over parishes, of synods over presbyteries, and of the Assembly over synods, was encouraged and rendered more effective. “The superintendence and trial of students of divinity was improved and extended, and the course of study enlarged. “ One branch of the seceders was restored to the communion of the church, and so a door was opened for the return of others. * * * * * “ Finally, instead of the apathy and coldness with which the church was previously regarded, a warm and zealous attachment to her pervades the great body of the people : and as her representatives assemble from year to year in her supreme judi- catory, they have the delightful satisfaction to * This first step was subsequently followed up in 1842, by the removal of “ the ban of intercommunion” altogether. The door thus opened, was characteristically shut by the residuary Assembly of 1843. know, that instead of their meeting being receiv- ed with the utter indifference which formerly pre- vailed, the fervent prayers of many thousands of her pious and faithful children are constantly offered up to God for a blessing on their deliber- ations.” f It was in the midst of this career of growing en- ergy and efficiency, the church found herself at length so obstructed and overborne by the civil courts in the exercise of her most sacred functions and duties, as to have been at length compelled to appeal for redress to the Imperial Parliament. The rejec- tion of that appeal, and of the claim to an intrinsic and exclusive jurisdiction in matters spiritual on which it was founded, led to the disruption of the establishment. This memorable conflict began with the well known Auchterarder case. The parish of that name having become vacant in 1834, the patron, the Earl of Kinnoul, presented to it a licentiate of the name of Mr Robert Young. In the month of December of that year the presbytery, having pre- | viously appointed the presentee to preach two sabbaths in the parish, met in the church of Auch- i terarder, to moderate in the call. The call was of ; immemorial usage in the church of Scotland. It was through the medium of the call that the prin- ciple of non-intrusion was exhibited and enforced. It was with a view to restore the call to practical ; efficiency, that the “ act on calls,” commonly called . the veto law, was passed by the church in 1834. Instead of leaving presbyteries to decide in each l case whether or not the call was sufficient, in other j words, whether there was sufficient evidence of the consent of the congregation, the act of 1834 laid it down as a general rule, that the dissent of a ma- jority of male heads of families in communion with the church should be decisive against the call, and should take effect to prevent the settlement, leaving the patron to bring forward another presentee. In the case of Mr Young this act was put in force. | Out of a population of upwards of 3000 souls, only I two parishioners could be found to subscribe his call i to be their minister. At the same time, an immense j majority of the qualified communicants came forward, and tendered their dissent against the settlement. The presbytery accordingly rejected Mr Young. The patron and presentee refusing to acquiesce in this i decision, carried the case into the court of session, j Against the form in which this action was originally laid, the church could have had no right to complain. In that form the court was called on to entertain the action solely with a view to determine to whom the benefice of Auchterarder should belong ; the 1 + Dunlop’s Letter to Dean of Faculty, (written in 1839,) ! pp. 25, 26, 27. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO ! lxviii patron and presentee, on the ground of alleged ille- gality in the church’s proceedings, claiming it for one or other of themselves. Before however the action was proceeded with, the original summons was withdrawn, and an amended summons given in, by which the conclusions sought in the action were entirely changed. In this new form, what the pursuers substantially claimed, was not merely that J the civil court should assert its* rightful authority to dispose of the benefice, but should assume what the civil court had never attempted to touch since the royal supremacy in matters spiritual was abol- ished at the revolution, a right to control the church courts in their ecclesiastical procedure ; and in a word to correct or punish as it might see cause, the judicatories of the church. After a long liti- gation, judgment on this momentous case was pro- nounced in the spring of 1838 by the court of ses- sion, by a majority of eight to five of the judges, in favour of the pursuers. The judgment declared, that in rejecting Mr Young in the circumstances above described, the presbytery of Auchterarder had acted “ illegally, and in violation of their duty.” This sentence, and the terms in which the judges who pronounced it expressed themselves on the subject, gave just and great alarm to the church, and led in the Assembly, which met soon after, to the adoption of the celebrated independence resol- ution. That resolution, which the writer of this Essay had the distinguished honour to move, drew at once, and clearly, the line between the secular and the spiritual province ; and while it proclaimed the utmost readiness to yield up the one freely to the courts of the state, expressed a firm determi- nation, through grace, to submit to no civil control within the limits of the other. In this resolution, the identity of the struggle, which had now fairly ! begun, with that of the ancient Worthies whose I contendings we have been endeavouring to illus- trate, may be seen at a glance. “The General Assembly of this church, while they unqualifiedly acknowledge the exclusive jurisdiction of the civil courts, in regard to the civil rights and emoluments secured by law to the church and the ministers j thereof, and will ever give and inculcate implicit ! obedience to their decisions thereanent : do resolve, I that as it is declared in the Confession of Faith of I this national church, that ‘ the Lord Jesus Christ | appointed a government in the hand of church officers distinct from the civil magistrate,’ and that in all matters touching the doctrine, government, and discipline of the church, her judicatories pos- sess an exclusive jurisdiction founded on the word of God, which ‘ power ecclesiastical (in the words of the Second Book of Discipline) flows from God and the Mediator, and is spiritual, not having a temporal head on earth, but only Christ, the only spiritual King and Governor of his kirk,’ and they do further resolve, that this spiritual jurisdiction, and the supremacy and sole headship of the Lord Jesus Christ on which it depends, they will assert and at all hazards defend, by the help and blessing of that great God, who in the days of old enabled their fathers, amid manifold persecutions, to main- tain a testimony for Christ’s kingdom and crown : and finally, that they will firmly enforce obedience to the same upon all office-bearers and members of this church, by the execution of her laws in the exercise of the ecclesiastical authority wherewith they are invested.” In this resolution the trumpet of the Church gave forth no uncertain sound. Should the courts of civil law follow up the decision pronounced in 1838, in the Court of Session, and affirmed the fol- lowing year in the House of Lords, by an order to the patron or presentee of Auchterarder to take possession of the benefice of that parish, the Church by her resolution had signified her readiness to bow, and would no doubt have made through the voluntary liberality of her members, suitable provision for the sustentation of another minister in Auchterarder dur- ing Mr Young’s life. But on the other hand, should the civil courts, under cover of the above decision, issue an order upon the presbytery to proceed with the settlement of the presentee, in other words to intromit with the spiritual province, the resolution had unequivocally announced that any such order would be disregarded as an unlawful interference with the proper spiritual j urisdiction of the Church. An order of this latter kind was issued, and it was disregarded. This gave rise to a supplemen- tary action at the instance of the same pursuers, with a view to have it found that the Presbytery of Auchterarder were liable in damages, laid at the enormous amount of £16,000, for refusing to pro- ceed with his settlement. At every step of the con- flict thus begun, the Erastian supremacy claimed by the courts of law came out in more glaring colours. One usurpation was immediately followed by another still more intolerable, until in the lan- guage of one of the most eminent judges that ever adorned the Scottish Bench, it had come to this, that not a “ shred of spiritual independence was left to the courts of the Church of Scotland.”* Meanwhile the chapel act of 1 834, had also been assailed in the courts of law. Although like its con- temporary, the act on calls, it had been shedding down numberless blessings on the church and country, its spirit and bearing were too hostile to * Lord Moncreiff. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. Ixix moderatism, and too favourable to the growth of evangelical principles and popular privileges, to be endured. Agreeably to that act, the presbytery of Irvine had occasion to set apart a certain district of the large and populous parish of Stewarton as a parish quoad sacra , and to set 1 ‘ over the souls ” residing within it a minister of the gospel ; disturb- ing no civil arrangement, touching no civil right or interest, but simply making more effectual pro- vision for the spiritual good of the people. Certain landed proprietors in the parish taking exception against this proceeding, brought an action in the Court of Session to have the church’s competency to do such things disallowed. At the same time, they sought and obtained an interdict to prohibit the presbytery from proceeding. In consenting to appear at all in this action before the civil court, the church insisted on stating, and having it en- tered on the record of the court, that she did so, not as acknowledging, but as expressly disowning the court’s jurisdiction, and that she would not obey any judgment assuming such jurisdiction, to which the court might come. Having taken this very decided step to clear her conduct from all hazard of being misunderstood, she endeavoured to satisfy the court, that in passing and enforcing the chapel act, she was simply exercising a power that was inherent in her constitution, and had been in con- stant exercise, as the uninterrupted series of pre- cedents adduced might show, from the Reformation J downwards. But all in vain. The act was dis- j allowed, and that in terms so broad and sweeping, 1 that one of the judges justly observed, on such a footing, “ we cannot fancy the act so spiritual, as that the Court of Session cannot subvert it.” Things were now rapidly drawing to a crisis ; and what posterity will remark with interest, and in which they will see a fresh evidence of the identity of the modern with the ancient contests of the Church of Scotland ; in exact proportion as the civil courts became more avowed and unscrupu- I lous in their Erastianism, the church became more j firm, and more unqualified in her assertion of the j great principles at issue. As the civil courts ! would not suffer either the principle of non-in- trusion to remain to congregations, or the liberty j of “examination and admission” of ministers to j remain to presbyteries, under their new views of ; the rights of patronage, the church went back boldly to the ancient and scriptural ground of the first reformers, and called on parliament to abol- ish patronage altogether. The same Assembly in which the anti-patronage resolution was adopted, that of 1842, witnessed the adoption of the “ Claim of Rights,” a document which will take its place among the most illustrious and memorable of the church’s many testimonies for “ Christ’s crown and covenant.” In this singularly able instrument, the Assembly set forth, in order, the several acts of aggression which the courts of law had made on the constitution and liberties of the church. 1. By interdicting presbyteries from admitting to a pastoral charge, even where no benefice was con- cerned. 2. By issuing a decree requiring and ordaining a church court to take a probationer on trial, and admit him to the office of the min- istry, and intrude him upon a congregation con- trary to their will. 3. By prohibiting the com- municants of a congregation from intimating their dissent from a call. 4. By granting interdicts against the establishment of additional ministers to meet the wants of an increasing population. 5. By interdicting the preaching of the gospel, and administration of ordinances, in a whole district of country, by any of the ministers and elders commissioned by the Assembly of the church for that purpose. 6. By holding the members of in- ferior church courts liable in damages, for refusing to disobey the orders of their ecclesiastical superiors, to whom they were bound to yield submission by their ordination vows. 7. By interdicting the execution of spiritual sentences pronounced by church courts ; by interdicting the infliction of church censures ; by suspending such censures when pronounced ; by maintaining deposed ministers in their office and functions. 8. By interdicting members of Assem- bly from taking their seats in that court, &c., &c. “By all which acts, this solemn official document affirms, the said Court of Session, apparently not adverting to the oath taken by the sovereign from whom they held their commission, have exercised powers not conferred on them by the constitution, I but by it excluded from the province of any secu- lar tribunal, have invaded the jurisdiction of the courts of the church, have subverted its govern- ment, have illegally attempted to coerce church i courts in the exercise of their purely spiritual ; functions, have usurped ‘the power of the keys;’ have wrongfully acclaimed, as the subjects of their civil jurisdiction, to be regulated by their decrees, ordination of laymen to the office of the holy min- istry, admission to the cure of souls, church cen- sures, the preaching of the Word, and the admin- istration of the sacraments ; and have employed the means intrusted to them for enforcing submis- sion to their lawful authority, — in compelling sub- mission to a power which they have usurped, — in opposition to the doctrines of God’s word set forth in the Confession of Faith, as ratified by statute, — in violation of the constitution, — in breach of the treaty of union, — and in disregard of diverse ex- press enactments of the legislature.” HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO lxx In this document, breathing the very spirit, as it was employed in asserting the very principles of Knox, Melville, and Henderson, the church further I intimated in the plainest terms, what must be the inevitable consequence of a refusal on the part of the legislature, to redress the grievances of which she complained. However much she valued her connection with the state, and the benefits resulting from it, she “ must nevertheless,” — these were her i solemn words, — “even at the risk and hazard of the loss of that connection, and of these public benefits, persevere in maintaining her liberties as a church of Christ.” And finally, foreseeing the too probable result of this solemn appeal to the legislature, in I the concluding paragraph of the “ claim of right,” the Assembly called “ the Christian people of this kingdom, and of all the churches of the reforma- tion throughout the world, who held the great doctrine of the sole headship of the Lord Jesus over his church, to witness, that it is for their ad- herence to that doctrine, as set forth in their Con- fession of Faith, and ratified by the laws of this kingdom, and for the maintenance by them of the jurisdiction of the office-bearers, and the freedom and privileges of the members of the church from that doctrine flowing, that this church is subjected j to hardship, and that the rights so sacredly pledged | and secured to her, are put in peril.” j This “ Claim of Right,” adopted by the General | Assembly of 1842 by a majority of nearly two to j one, put the whole controversy between the church ! and the civil courts before the legislature, and sus- I pended her continuance as a church in connection | with the state, on the answer her claim should re- ceive. The Commission of Assembly which met in October of the same year, finding that the govern- ! ment, to whom the Claim of Right had been transmitted, for the purpose of being laid before her majesty, had pronounced no decision regarding it, framed and transmitted a memorial, calling their attention anew to the subject ; and at the same time adopted a petition to both houses of parliament, in which the substance of the Claim of Right was imbodied, and in which their early and earnest attention was requested to the Claim of Right itself. What followed is well known. First came, in January 1843, a “state paper” from the govern- ment, repudiating the church’s claim in the most unequivocal terms. Thereafter, in the month of March following, the motion to take the Claim of Right into consideration, made in the House of Commons, and most ably supported by the Right ! Hon. Fox Maule, was negatived by a large ma- jority, and from that moment the controversy within the establishment was at an end.* Nothing now remained but to arrange the mode in which the separation from the establishment was to be carried into effect. For some time ! previous, indeed, preparations for this purpose had been in progress. In the month of Novem- ber, (1842) a convocation of ministers had been held in Edinburgh, the practical design of which was “ to set their house in order,” and make ready j for the impending disruption. At that convoca- j tion resolutions had been adopted, setting forth, in harmony with the views of the Claim of Right, j the position in which matters stood, pointing dis- tinctly to the duty and necessity of abandoning the establishment, should the redress sought be refused by parliament. These resolutions were ! signed by about 470 ministers : and were im- j j bodied in a very able memorial which they trans- j ; mitted to government. From that period, an j active committee, composed of ministers and elders, j had been at work putting things in train for the great movement now so rapidly approaching. Every means, consistent with Christian integrity, to avert the disruption, had been honestly and per- J severingly tried, and tried in vain. The legislature j had unequivocally and peremptorily declared that I subjection in all her affairs to the control of the 1 1 secular power must henceforth be the price of the j church’s establishment. However painful the course, the path of duty was clear. At length the memorable 18th of May, 1843, arrived. The Assembly that was destined to take its place in history, side by side with the Glasgow Assembly of 1638, convened. The moderator, Dr Welsh, j offered up a solemn prayer; and immediately, j without allowing a single step to be taken, spoke as follows : “ According to the usual form of procedure, this is the time for making up the roll ; but in conse- quence of certain proceedings affecting our rights and privileges, — proceedings which have been sanc- tioned by her majesty’s government and by the legislature of the country, and more especially in respect that there has been an infringement on the liberties of our constitution, so that we could not now constitute this court without a violation of the terms of the union between church and state in this land, as now authoritatively declared, I must j protest against our proceeding further. The rea- | sons that have led me to come to this conclusion j are fully set forth in the document which I hold in * In this division, the Scotch Members voted in favour of Mr Maule’s motion, in the proportion of two to otie. THE SCOTS WORTHIES. lxxi my hand, and which, with permission of the house, I shall now proceed to read.”* This protest, read with deep solemnity, recited j succinctly and clearly the substance of the Claim of I Right, enumerated in succession the various funda- mental points in which it had now been conclusively determined by the legislature, that the church, i established by law, must be subject to civil coercion, and followed up the narration of these with this formal and deliberate protest, “That the conditions aforesaid, while we deem them contrary to and subversive of the settlement of church government effected at the Revolution, and solemnly guaranteed by the Act of Security and Treaty of Union, are also at variance with God’s word, in opposition to the doctrine and fundamental principles of the Church of Scotland, inconsistent with the freedom essential to the right constitution of the church of Christ, and incompatible with the government which He, as the Head of his church, hath therein appointed distinct from the civil magistrate. “ And we further protest, that any Assembly constituted in submission to the conditions now de- clared to be law, and under the civil coercion which has been brought to bear in the election of commis- sioners to the Assembly this day appointed to have been holden, and on the commissioners chosen thereto, is not and shall not be deemed a free and lawful Assembly of the Church of Scotland, accord- ing to the original and fundamental principles thereof, and that the Claim, Declaration, and Pro- test of the General Assembly which convened at Edinburgh, in May, 1842, as the act of a free and lawful Assembly of the said church, shall be holden as setting forth the true constitution of the said church, and that the said Claim, along with the laws of the church now subsisting, shall in nowise be affected by whatsoever acts and proceedings of any Assembly constituted under the conditions now declared to be the law, and in submission to the coercion now imposed on the establishment. “ And, finally, * * * we protest that in the circumstances in which we are placed, it is and * Report of Proceedings of Assembly, 1 843, in Presbyterian Review. shall be lawful for us, and such other commissioners chosen to the Assembly appointed to have been this day holden, as may concur with us, to withdraw to a separate place of meeting, for the purpose of | taking steps, for ourselves and all who adhere to us, maintaining with us the Confession of Faith and standards of the Church of Scotland, as heretofore understood, — for separating in an orderly way from the Establishment, and thereupon adopting such measures as may be competent to us, in humble dependence on God’s grace and the aid of his Holy Spirit, for the advancement of his glory, the exten- sion of the gospel of our Lord and Saviour, and the administration of the affairs of Christ’s house according to his holy word. And we do now with- draw accordingly, humbly and solemnly acknow- ledging the hand of the Lord in the things which have come upon us, because of our manifold sins and the sins of this church and nation ; but, at the same time, with an assured conviction that we are not responsible for any consequences that may follow from this our enforced separation from an Estab- lishment which we loved and prized, — through in- terference with conscience, the dishonour done to Christ’s crown, and the rejection of his sole and supreme authority as King in his church.” Such was the, protest, under the sanction of which nearly 200 members of Assembly withdrew from the Establishment, and immediately there- after, in presence of an assemblage of not fewer than 3000 individuals, constituted, in Canonmills Hall, the first Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland. To this protest there adhered 465 minis- ters of the Establishment, upwards of 200 proba- tioners, together with an overwhelming majority of the elders. The banner thus uplifted for “ Christ’s Crown and Covenant” has been followed by nearly a million of the Scottish people formerly connected with the Established Church. Such is a brief summary of the great contest which has rent the Establishment asunder. The substantial identity of the principles for which it was maintained with those of the Scots Worthies, is so manifest that “ he who runs may read.” JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. The design of the following work is, to collect from the best authorities, a sum- mary account of the lives and contendings of some of our most Renowned Scots Worthies, who, for their faithful services, ardent zeal, constancy in suffering, and other Christian graces and virtues, deserve a most honourable memorial in the church of Christ ; — and whose names will he savoury to all the true lovers of our Zion, while Reformation principles are regarded in Scotland. Having for some time had a desire to see something of this kind published ; but finding nothing from the press, except a few broken accounts interspersed through- out different and sometimes rare publica- tions, I formed the resolution to collect into one volume, a concise account of the lives of as many of our Scots Worthies as could be obtained, from such of the histo- rical records, biographical accounts, and other authenticated manuscripts, as might he accessible. Such a work, it was thought, would not only prove more useful, in giv- ing the reader the pleasure of viewing the Worthies all at once, but, at the same time, would be free from the inconveniences to which small pamphlets are liable. In this publication, it is not pretended to give an account of all our Scots W orthies : the following considerations will show that this would he a task altogether impracticable : 1. There have been many, of different ranks and degrees of men, famous in the church of Scotland, of whom little more is mentioned in history than their names, places of abode, and age in which they existed. Again, there are many others, of whom the most that can be said is only a few faint hints, which of necessity must i render their lives (if they may he properly so called) very imperfect, from what they might have been, had they been written a century ago, when their actions and memoirs were fresh and recent ; and when they might have been confirmed by many incontestable evidences that are not now available, especially as there is a chasm in l our history during the time of the Usurper ; j not to mention how many of our national records were about that time altogether lost.* 2. There are others both in the reform- ing and suffering periods, of whom some- what is recorded, and yet not sufficient to form a narrative ; so that, except in short j relations, or marginal notes, their lives | cannot be written. It is with regret that the publishers have to declare, that, upon * “ Of these records belonging to the state, carried away by Cromw T ell, to secure our depend- ence on England, there were eighty-five hogsheads lost, December 18, 1660, in a ship belonging to Kirkcaldy, as she was returning with them from London. And as for the church records and re- gisters, a great many of them also, (either through the confusion of the then civil wars, or falling into the hands of the prelates, while prelacy prevailed in Scotland) are amissing .” — Preface to Stevenson' s History. A JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. I 2 j I application to several places for farther information concerning these worthy men, they could find little or nothing (except a few things by way of oral tradition), the re- gisters being, through course of time, either designedly or through negligence, lost. 3. A few of the lives already in print, being somewhat prolix, required to be abridged ; and this is done in a manner as comprehensive as possible, so that nothing material is omitted: it is hoped, at least, that there are no such omissions as to be in any way injurious to the memory of these ! worthy men. | In reference to the utility of this work, 1 let it be -remarked, that biography, in | general, is one of the most entertaining | parts of history ; and how much more, the j lives and transactions of our Noble Scots j Worthies, in which is contained, not only a short account of the testimony and wrestlings of the church for nearly 200 years, indeed from the introduction of Christianity into Scotland ; but also a great variety of other matters, both instructive and entertaining, which must at once edify and refresh the serious and understanding reader. For, 1. In these lives we have a short view of the actions, virtues, and some of the failings of our ancestors, set forth as examples for our caution and imitation ; and thus, by the experience, and at the expense of former ages, we may learn important lessons for our conduct in life, both in faith and man- ners, and for furnishing ourselves with the like Christian armour of zeal, faithfulness, holiness, steadfastness, meekness, patience, humility, and other graces. 2. In them we behold, what the wisest of men could not think on without astonish- ment, “ that God does in very deed dwell with men upon earth nay more, that he dealeth “ so familiarly with them, as to make them previously acquainted with his secret designs, both of judgment and mercy, displaying his divine power, and the efficacy ' of his grace, through their infirmities ; sub- duing the most hardened sinners to him- | self ; while he, as it were, resigns himself to their prayers, and makes them the subjects of his divine care and superintendence. 3. Here we have, as in a mirror, set forth all the virtues and duties of a reli- gious and domestic life. — Here is the example of a virtuous nobleman, an active statesman, a religious gentleman, a faithful and assiduous minister in the exercise of his office, “ instant in season and out of sea- son,” a wise and diligent magistrate, “ one fearing God, and hating covetousness,” a courageous soldier, a good Christian, a lov- ing husband, an indulgent parent, a faithful friend in every exigence ; and, in a word, almost every character worthy of our imi- tation. And, 4. In them we have the different changes and varieties of soul-exercise, the experi- ences, savoury expressions, and last words, of those once living, now glorified, wit- nesses for Christ. And “if the last speeches of men are remarkable, how much more valuable then must be the last words and dying expressions of these noble WITNESSES and MARTYRS for Christ !” For, the nearer the dying saint is to heaven, and the more of the presence of Christ he has in his last moments, when death looks him in the face, the more interest- ing will his conversation be to survi- vors, and particularly to real Christians ; because all that he says is supported by example, which exerts a strong influence upon the human mind. — It is true, there is an innate evil in man’s nature, that makes him more prone to follow bad than good examples ; yet sometimes, nay often, there is a land of compulsive energy arising from the good examples of such as are eminent either in place or godliness, leading others j to imitate them in their graces and virtues. ! We find that the children of Israel followed JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. the Lord all the days of Joshua, and the j elders that outlived him ; and Christ’s har- binger, John the Baptist, prevailed as much by his example as by his teaching. His j| apparel, his diet, liis conversation, pro- i ! claimed his holiness. Nazianzen saith of ! j him, “ That he cried louder by the holiness | of his life, than by the sincerity of his doc- I trine.” And had it not been so, the apostle would not have thus exhorted the Philip- pians, “ Brethren, be followers together of' | me, and mark them which walk so, as ye j have us for an ensample,” &c., chap. iii. 17. | — And so says the apostle James, “ Take, j | my brethren, the prophets who have spoken j in the name of the Lord, for an ensample.” j chap. v. 10. There is no doubt, indeed, that next to the down-pouring of the Spirit from on high, the rapid and admirable success of the gospel, both in primitive times, and in the beginning of our reforma- tions from popery and prelacy, must have been owing to the simple, holy and ex- emplary lives of its preachers and pro- fessors. Henry, a learned expositor, ob- serves, “ that ministers are likely to preach most to the purpose, when they can press j their hearers to follow their example.” Without this the church of Christ is so far from gaining ground in the world, that it I loses what it has already gained, — of which ! the church of Scotland is a melancholy | proof. The truth can gain no credit from the mouths of men whose character | is despicable, whose authority is lost, and whose example goes for nothing ! So j there is reason to hope, that no small advantage, through the divine blessing, I may accrue to the public from biography in general, and from the lives of our Scots Worthies in particular, if the following cautions be only observed : — 1. That we are not to sit down or rest ourselves upon the person, principle, or practice of any man, even the best saint we have ever read or heard of, but only to seek those gifts and graces that most eminently shine forth in him. — Preceptis , non exemplis , standum ; i. e. “ we must not stand by examples, but precepts.” It is the peculiar honour of Jesus Christ to be worthy of absolute imitation ; and for us to idolize any man, by making him our pattern in every instance, were nothing else than to pin our faith upon his sleeve. The apostle to the Corinthians gives a very good caveat against this, when he says, “ Be ye followers (or, as the Dutch anno-; tators translate, 4 Be ye imitators’) of me j as I am of Christ.” 2. That we are not, on the other hand, to dwell too much upon the faults or fail- ings that have sometimes been discovered in God’s dear children ; but at the same ! time to consider, that while they were eminent men of God, they were also the * sons of Adain : for it is possible for good men not only to fall themselves, but, when striking against the errors and enormities of others, to overreach the mark, and go beyond the bounds of propriety ; — perfection being no inherent plant in this life : for, says the apostle, “ they are earthen vessels, i men of like passions with you,” &c., 2 Cor. 1 iv. 7 ; Acts xiv. 15. And now in reference to the motives ! prompting to this publication. Was there ever a time, since the reformation com- menced in Scotland, that stood in more need of useful, holy, and exemplary lives being set before it ? It is a debt due to the Wor- thies themselves. For it is not long since Bishops Spottiswood, Guthrie, and Burnet j (not to mention some English historians), ! in their writings, clothed the actions of our ancestors, both in the reforming and suffer- ing period, in a most grotesque and fan- tastic dress, on account of which their names have been loaded with reproach, sarcasm, and scurrility ; and, as if this had not been enough, to expose them, in rendering them, and their most faithful contendings, odious, 4 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. some modern writers in the “ Edinburgh Monthly Review” for February, 1774, have set also to the work of misrepresenting them, placing them in such a dishonourable light, that to which, even the above-men- tioned historians, yea, their most avowed enemies, in their own day, would have scarcely subscribed. To such a length is poor degenerate Scotland arrived ! And is it not high time to follow the wise man’s advice, “ Open thy mouth for the dumb, in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction ?” Prov. xxxi. 8. Again, the present state of the church proves the necessity of this publication. How many degrees we have descended from the merit of our Renowned F ore- fathers > may be shown by running a parallel betwixt their contendings and attainments, and our present, national defections and backsliding courses, in the following parti- culars : — Our venerable Reformers were not only highly instrumental, in the Lord’s hand, in bringing a people out of the abyss of gross popish darkness, under which they had for a long time continued, but also i brought themselves under most solemn and sacred vows to the Most High ; and when- ; ever they were to set about any further piece of reformation in their advancing state, they renewed their engagements. They strenuously asserted the divine right of Presbytery, the headship of Christ, and the intrinsic rights of his church ; and, in the reign of James VI., suffered much on that account. — They lifted arms once and again in the reign of Charles I., and i never ceased until they got uniformity in doctrine, worship, discipline, and church government, established in the three king- doms; wherefore both church and state were enabled to exert themselves in rooting out every error and heresy whatever, until they obtained a complete settlement according to the word of God, and our covenants estab- 1 lished thereon. By several excellent Acts both civil and ecclesiastic,* these covenants became afterwards the Magna Charta of these realms, with respect to every civil and religious privilege; none being admitted into any office or employment in church or state, without scriptural and covenant qualifications. And then was that part of the ancient prophecy fulfilled, “ In the wilderness shall waters break forth, and streams in the desert, — and the isles shall wait for his law.” Christ then reigned gloriously in Scotland. His church appear- ed “ beautiful as Tirzah, comely as Jeru- salem : for, from the utmost parts were heard songs, even glory to the righteous.” And although Charles II., and a set of wicked counsellors, overturned the whole fabric of that once glorious structure of reformation, openly divested the Son of God of his headship in and over his own church, as far as human laws could do, burned these solemn covenants by the hands of the hangman, and by act of par- liament! made it high treason to own them; yet even then the seed of the church pro- duced a remnant, who kept the word of Christ’s patience, stood in defence of the truth in face of all opposition, and that to the effusion of the last drop of their blood. “ These two prime truths, Christ’s head- ship and our covenants, were in the mouths of all our late Martyrs, when they mounted their bloody theatres ;” and in the comfort of suffering on such clear grounds, and for such valuable truths, they went triumph- ing off the stage of time into eternity. But alas ! how have we, their degenerate and renegade posterity, followed their ex- ample or traced their steps ; yea, we have * See Act v. Pari. 1640 ; Act v. 1644 ; Act xv. 1649; Acts of the General Assembly, Sess. 26, 1638 ; Sess. 23, 1659; Sess. 6, 1642; Sess. ult., 1647 ; Sess. 31, 1648, &c. J Act v. Sess. 1, Pari. 1. James VII. See James VII. and William and Mary’s Acts of Par- liament abridged, p. 42. JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. 5 \ rather served ourselves heirs to those who persecuted and killed them, by our long accession to their perjury and apostasy, in a general and avowed denial of our most solemn vows and oaths of allegiance to Jesus Christ. To mention nothing more of the total extermination of our ancient and laudable constitution, during the reign of the two tyrants, with the many grave- stones cast thereon by the acts rescissory, and claim of right at the Revolution, whereby we have in a national capacity declared ourselves to be on another footing than that of the once famous covenanted church of Scotland. How many are the defections and encroachments annually and daily made upon our most valuable rights and privileges ! For since the Re- volution, the duty of national covenanting has not only been slighted and neglected, and ridiculed by some, but leading church- men, in their writings,* have had the effrontery to impugn the very obligation of these covenants, asserting that there is little or no warrant for national covenant- ing under the New Testament dispensation: and what awful attacks since that time have been made upon the rights of our Redeemer, notwithstanding some trifling acts made to the contrary. Witness, for example, the civil magistrate still retaining his old usurped power, in calling and dis- solving the supreme judicatories of the church ; yea, sometimes to an indefinite period; likewise appointing diets of fasting and thanksgiving to be observed, under fines and other civil pains, besides imposing oaths, acts, and statutes upon churchmen, under pain of ecclesiastical censure, or other Erastian penalties. Instead of the observance of our covenants, an unhallowed * Such as Messrs Currie, Ferguson, and Smith of Newburn, &c., who, in order to palliate and ex- tenuate the evil of the present backsliding courses, seem to have left no stone unturned, to expose or blacken the reforming period. 1 union is gone into with England, whereby ! our rights and liberties are infringed on not a little : lordly patronage, which was cast out of the church in her purest times, is now restored and cruelly practised : a tole- ration bill* is granted, whereby almost every error, heresy, and delusion, appear triumphant; prelacy is become fashiona- ble, and we are in as much danger of popery as ever;! Socinian and deistical tenets only are in vogue with the wits of the age ; soli rationi cedo , “ I yield to reason only,' 5 the old Porphyrian maxim having * Although toleration principles be now espoused, boasted of, and gloried in by many, yea, by some from whom other things might be expected, yet it is contrary to scripture. See Gen. xxxv. 2, &c. ; Deut. xiii. 6 ; Judg. ii. 2 ; Ezek. xliii. 8 ; Prov. xvii. 15 ; Zech. xiii. 2 ; Rom. xiii. 6 ; Rev. ii. 14, &c. And how far the civil magistrate is to exert > his power in punishing heretics, I shall not at pre- sent determine ; or whether the word extirpate in our solemn leagde and covenant extends to the tem- poral, or spiritual sword only, there are different sentiments and expositions on the subject ; yet sure I am, according to the nature of things, that that which is morally good, being a commanded duty, needs no toleration ; and to that which is morally evil, no mortal on earth can lawfully grant immunity; and betwixt these there is no medium in point of truth and duty. And it is observable, that where toleration, or toleration principles prevail, real re- ligion never prospers much. And besides, it is of woful consequence ; for, as in natural bodies anti- pathy of qualities causes destruction, so in bodies politic, different religions, or ways of worship in re- ligion, cause many divisions and distractions, whereby the seamless coat of Christ is like to be torn in pieces ; and this oftentimes terminates in the ruin of the whole. “ For, a kingdom, city, or house, divided against itself, cannot standi.” And yet some will say that toleration is a good thing, for by it people may live as good as they please. I answer, — it is true ; but they may also live as bad as they please ; and that we have liberty and free- ! dom to serve God in his own appointed way, we j have him primarily to thank for it, as for all his I other mercies and goodness towards us. f Witness the Quebec Act for establishing | popery in Canada, 1777, — the catholic bills grant- ; ing a toleration to papists in England and Ireland, 1778, with the gloomy aspect that affairs bear to j Scotland since that time. ! ! 6 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. so far gained the ascendancy at present, that reason (at least pretenders to it, who must needs hear with their eyes, and see with their ears, and understand with their elbows, till the order of nature be inverted) threatens not a little to banish revealed religion and its most important doctrines , out of the world. A latitudinarian scheme ! prevails among the majority ; the greater part, with the Athenians, spending their j time only to hear and see something new, “gadding about to change their ways, going in the ways of Egypt and Assyria, to drink : the water of Shichor and the river unsta- ble souls, like so many light combustibles j caught by the eddies of a whirlwind, and 1 tossed hither and thither till utterly dissi- ■ pated. The doctrine of original sin* is by many denied ; many are pulling down the ; very hedges of church-government, refusing all church standards, covenants, creeds, and confessions, whether of our own or of ! other churches ; yea, and national churches also, as being all of them carnal, human, or antichristian inventions, such being contrary to Scripture, particularly 2 Tim. i. 13, “ hold fast the form of sound words.” Besides, the old Pelagian and Arminian errors appear again upon the stage ; the merit of the creature, free will, and good * This doctrine of original sin is plainly evinced | from scripture, canonical and apocryphal ; Job xiv. 4 ; Psal. li. 5 ; Rom. v. 12, &c. ; 1 Cor. xv. 21 ; John iii. 6 : Apocrypha, Eccles. xxv. 26 ; asserted in our church -standards, illustrated and defended by many able divines, both ancient and modern, and by our British poets excellently described. Thus : — “ Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold Th’ effects which thy original crime hath wrought In some, to spring from thee, who never touch’d Th’ excepted tree, nor with the snake conspir’d, Nor sinn’d thy sin ; yet from that sin derive Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.” Paradise Lost , Lib. ix. “ Conceiv’d in sin, (0 wretched state,) Before we draw our breath : The first young pulse begins to heat Iniquity and death.” — Dr Watts. works,* being taught from the press and pulpit almost every where, to the utter discarding of free grace, Christ’s imputed righteousness, and the power of true god- * However much these leading articles in the Arminian and Pelagian schemes be now taught and applauded, yet sure they are God- dishonouring and soul-ruining tenets, contrary to scripture, God’s covenants, and eversive of man’s salvation. For, (1.) They are contrary to scripture, which teaches us that we are not less dependent in work- ing than in being, and no more capable to act from a principle of life of ourselves, than to exist ; “ The way of man is not in himself: it is not in j man that walketh to direct his steps. What hast 1 thou, 0 man, but what thou hast received? How | to perform that which is good I find not.” Jer. x. 23 ; 1 Cor. iv. 7 J Rom. vii. 18. “ So that a man can do nothing, except it be given him from above ; and no man can come unto me, except the Father j draw him,” saith Christ, John iii. 27 ; vi. 44 ; see Conf. ch. ix. sect. 3 ; Articles of the Church of England, Art. 10. And for good works, however j far they may be acceptable to God in the way o I approvance, as being conformable to his command, and agreeable to the holiness of his nature, yet wt are assured from his word, that moral rectitude, in its very summit, can never render one acceptable in his sight in a justifying way ; “ for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified ; not by works of righteousness which we have done,” &c., Rom. j ii. 28 ; Gal. ii. 16 ; Tit. iii, 5. For, though good works, or gospel obedience and true holiness, be absolutely necessary to salvation, as being the fruits and evidences of a true and lively faith in every believer, the greatest saint being the best moralist ; yet these are in no way meritorious for man’s salvation : No ! this depends upon God’s eternal purposes, Rom. ix. 11 ; Eph. i. 4. We find it often said in scripture, that it shall be rendered to every man according to his works, Rom iii. 6 ; Rev. xxii. 12, &c., but never for his works: yea, j works, though otherwise materially good in them- selves, in an unregenerate man become sinful before God, “ for whatsoever is not of faith is sin,” Rom. j xiv. 23 ; although the omitting of them be more dishonouring to him, Rom. viii. 8 ; Psal. xxvi. 5 ; Matt, xx iii. 23. See also Conf. ch. xvi. sect. 2, 3, 7. j And so Luther, Calvin, Diodati, Beza, Perkins, i Fisher, Flavel, Owen, Simpson, Binning, Dickson, Gray, Rutherford, Durham, Gillespie, Guthrie, ! Renwick, Pool, Henry, Halyburton, Boston, Mar- 1 shall, and many others. (2 ) They are opposed to reason, and strike etni- 1 nently against the very nature of God’s covenant ; I liness. All these pernicious errors were expunged, and cast over the hedge, by our reforming forefathers : and is it not highly requisite, that their faithful contendings, orthodox and exemplary lives, should be for, according to the tenor of the covenant of works, nothing but perfect, personal, and perpetual obedience can merit (if any thing in a degenerate creature may be so called) ; and can any reasona- ble man look his own conscience in the face and say, that he is the person that can perform this ? Again, if we betake ourselves to the covenant of grace, reason itself might blush and be ashamed, once to suppose that the blood of the immaculate I Son of God stood in any need of the addition of j man’s imperfect works, in order to complete salva- tion. — See Catechising on the Heidelburg Cate- chism on question lii., page 180; Blackwall’s Ratio sacra, page 17* &c. (3.) They must be very dangerous, soul-ruining, and Christ-dishonouring errors ; for it might be counted altogether superfluous for a person to come to a physician for a cure, while he is not in the least suspicious of being infected with any malady. So in like manner, can it be expected that any sinner can cordially come, or be brought, to Christ, without a due sense of his infinite distance from God by nature ? of the impossibility of making any suitable approaches to him ? and of the utter disa- j bility to do any thing that may answer the law, 1 holiness, and righteousness of God. “ For they | that be whole need not a physician,” saith Christ, ! “ and I came, not to call the righteous, but sinners j to repentance,” Mark ix. 12. I From hence observe, that whosoever intends to I forsake his sin, in order to come to Christ, or effectually to correct vice, before he believes on him, must meet with a miserable disappointment ; j for “ without faith it is impossible to please God,” j Heb. xi. 6. Like one following an ignis fatuus j through a quagmire, he will in the end sink himself into an immense and bottomless chaos of uncertain- ties. “ No man cometh to the Father but by me, and j without me ye can do nothing,” says Christ himself, John xiv. 6 ; xv. 5 ; the love of God being the prima causa ; the obedience and meritorious right- | eousness of Christ, the foundation, source and spring of man’s salvation, and all true happiness ; “for by grace ye are saved,” Eph. ii. 8. And whosoever has been made rightly to know any- thing of the depravity of his nature in a fallen state, or experienced anything of the free grace of God in Christ, will be made to acknowledge this, “ That it is God that worketh in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure,” Phil. ii. 13. And copied out before us, when walking so re- pugnant to “ acknowledging the God of our fathers, and walking before him with a perfect heart ?” Again, if we institute a comparison be- yet I know it is objected, that it is highly dis- honouring to the Author of nature, to argue man to be such a mean and insufficient creature, and that it can never be supposed, that a gracious and merciful God would make such a number of intelli- gent beings to damn them, or command a sinner to repent and come to Christ, and condemn him for not doing it, if it were not in his own power upon moral suasion to obey, &c. It is true, indeed, that in comparison with the irrational insect and inanimate j creation, man is a noble creature, both as to his I formation and his intellectual parts ; but much more in his primeval state and dignity, when all the faculties of the mind and powers of the soul stood entire, being endued, not only with animal and in- telligent, but also heavenly life : “ Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels,” Psal. viii. 5. But then, in what follows, these objectors seem, either inadvertently or willingly, to have for- got, (l.)“That man in honour abideth not,” Psal. xlix. 12 ; or as the Rabbins read, and some translate it, as Cartwright, Ainsworth, Leigh, and Broughton, “ Adam in honour abideth not one night.” Adam, by his disobedience, not only introduced a jarring into the whole creation, and rendered his posterity decrepit and lame ; but also lost all power to do any spiritual good, the whole of his intellectual parts being either corrupted, darkened, obliterated, or lost. Indeed, Dr Taylor would have us believe, that what Adam lost, and even more, was restored to Noah, Gen. ix. ; and that man’s mental capacities are now the same as Adam’s in innocence, saving so far as God sees fit to set any man above or be- low his standard ; some are below Adam in rational endowments, and some are above him : of the latter he thinks Sir Isaac Newton was one. (Doc- trine of Original Sin, p. 235, Supplement, p. 85.) The fallacy of this opinion is so obvious and absurd, that it deserves no remarks ; for, every one, to his dear bought experience, may know, that man now, assisted by all the dark remains of original, moral, and political knowledge he is master of, can acquire no certain knowledge of any part of his duty, as to moral good or evil, but by a gradation of laborious, slow, and multiplied deductions ; and much less is he able to bind the strong man and cast him out. And yet all this is no way dishonouring to the great Author of nature as to the works of his hands : for, although he made him at first, he made him not originally a sinful man ; so that it is our sin that is [j " “ ! 8 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. tween the practice of those men whose lives are the subject of this work, and our present prevailing temper and disposition, dishonouring to him. “ Lo, this have I found out,” says the wisest of men, “that God at first made man upright, but he sought out many inventions.” { (2.) That, in a proper sense, God neither made man to save nor to damn him, but only for his i pleasure, and the manifestation of his own power ! and glory, Rev. iv. 11; Conf. ch. i. sect. 3. (3.) j Although we have lost power to obey, yet he still retains his right to demand obedience ; and nothing can be more suitable to the justice, wisdom, and | sovereignty of God than to maintain his right to i perfect obedience from man, whom he original^ j endued with all power and abilities for what he ) commanded ; neither is he in any way bound to restore that power again to man, which he by his i disobedience lost. (4.) All mankind by the fall | were condemned by God’s judicial act, “In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die,” Gen. ii. 17. And you will say a judge does a malefactor no injury in condemning him, when by the law he is found guilty of death ; and, “ cursed is every one who continueth not in all the words of this law to do them,” Deut. xxvii. 26 ; and much less the supreme Judge of all who can do nothing wrong to any, in condemning man ; “ for the wages of sin is death,” Rom. vi. 13 ; “and hath not the potter power over the clay?” &c. — And finally, if i the first Adam’s posterity be thus naturally endued i with the power to do that which is spiritually good, pray what need was there for the second Adam to die to quicken his elect? Eph. ii. 1. Indeed, we are commanded to repent, and turn from our ini- quities ; “turn ye, turn ye, and live,” Ezek. xxxiii. 1 1 ; and ye “ will not come unto me that ye might have life,” John v. 40 ; but who, except a bold Arminian, will say, that these texts imply a natural power in man to turn, come or not as he pleases. If this were the case, the same Spirit of God would not have said elsewhere, “ Draw us, and we will run after thee ; turn thou us, and we shall be turn- ed,” Cant. i. 4; Jer. xxxi. 18; “surely after I was turned, I repented,” ver. 19 ; “it was not be- fore I was turned, I repented no, this command and complaint only point out our duty ; but the prayers and promises in the word show us our ability for the performance thereof. And yet after all, proud ignorant man must needs be his own Saviour, and if God say not so too, Cain will be wroth, and his countenance fall, Gen. iv. 5. But “ let the potsherds strive with the potsherds of the earth, but wo unto him that striveth with his Maker.” we will find how much they are at variance j with one another. How courageous and zealous were they for the cause and honour of Christ ! How cold and lukewarm are we, of whatever sect or denomination ! How willing were they to part with all for him ! and what honour did many of them count it to suffer for his name ! How unwilling are we to part with any thing for him, much less to suffer such hardships for his sake ! Of that we are ashamed, which they counted their ornament; ac- counting that our glory which they looked on as a disgrace ! How easy it was for them to choose the greatest suffering, rather than the least sin ! How hard is it for us to refuse the greatest sin, in preference to the least suffering ! How active were they for the glory of God and the good of souls, and diligent to have their own evidences clear for heaven ! But how little concern have we for the cause of Christ, his work and interest, and how dark are the most part with respect to their spiritual state and duty ! They were sympathizing Chris- tians ; hut alas ! how little fellow-feeling is to be found among us : it is rather, “ Stand by, for I am holier than thou.” Oh ! that their Christian virtues, constant fidelity, unfeigned love, unbiassed loyalty to Zion’s King and Lord, could awaken us from our neutrality and supine security, wherein, in- stead of imitating their goodness, we have, by our defections and vicious courses, in- vited neglect and contempt on ourselves, i being, as a philosopher once observed of i passionate people, — they are like men stand- ing on their heads, who see all things the wrong way ; — giving up w ith the greater part of the rights and liberties, which were most esteemed by our renowned progeni- tors — “ the treacherous dealers have dealt treacherously.” And if we shall add to all these, in our progressing and increasing apostasy, our other heinous land-crying sins and JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. ! enormities, which prevail and increase among all ranks and denominations of men ; ! few mourning over the low state of our Zion, and the daily decay of the interest of Christ and religion : then we not only may say, as the poet in Oedipus said of the men of Athens and Thebes, “ that we live only in fable, and nothing remains of ancient Scotland but the name,” but also take up this bitter complaint and lamentation, “ Ah ! Scotland, Scotland ! 4 How is the gold become dim, how is the most fine gold changed !’ Ah ! where is the God of Elijah, and where is his glory ! Where is that Scottish zeal that once flamed in the breasts of thy nobility, barons, ministers, and commoners of all sorts ! Ah ! where is that true courage and heroic resolution for religion and the liberties of a nation, that did once animate all ranks in the land ! Alas ! alas ! true Scots blood now runs cool in our veins ! The cloud is now gone up in a great measure from off our assem- blies ; because we have deserted and relin- quished the Lord’s most noble cause and testimony, by a plain, palpable, and per- petual course of backsliding, — ‘the crown is fallen from our head, wo unto us, for we have sinned !’ ” And surely we may say of these our times, with as much propriety as Mr Davidson, one of the Worthies, said of theirs, in a letter to the General Assembly, 1601, “ Quam graviter ingemescerent illi fortes viri qui ecclesice Scotiance pro libertate in acie decertarunt , si nostram nunc ignaviam (ne quid gravius dicam ) conspicerent i. e. “ How grievously would ! they bewail our stupendous slothfulness, could they but behold it, who of old thought no expense of blood and treasure too much for the defence of the church of Scotland’s liberties.” Or, to use the words of another* in the persecuting period, “ were it possible * Mr John Dickson, in a letter, while prisoner i in the Bass. I that our reformers (and, we may add, our late martyrs), who are entered in among the glorious choristers in the kingdom of heaven, tuning their melodious harps about | the throne of the Lamb, might have a I furlough for a short time, to take a view of their apostatizing children, what may we j judge would be their conceptions of these courses of defection, so far repugnant to the platform laid down in that glorious work I of reformation.” For, if innocent Hamilton, godly and patient Wishart, apostolic Knox, eloquent Rollock, and worthy Davidson, the courageous Melvills, prophetic Welch, j majestic Bruce, great Henderson, renown- j ed Gillespie, learned Binning, pious Gray, j laborious Durham, heavenly-minded Ruth- I erford, the faithful Guthries, diligent Blair, lieart-melting Livingston, religious Well- wood, orthodox and practical Brown, zea- lous and steadfast Cameron, honest-hearted Cargill, sympathizing M‘Ward, persevering Blackadder, the evangelical Traills, con- stant and pious Renwick, &c., “ were filed off from the assembly of the first-born, and sent as commissioners from the mount of God, to behold how quickly their offspring are gone out of the way, piping and dancing after a golden calf, — Ah ! with what vehe- mence would their spirits be affected, to see their laborious structure almost razed to the foundation, by those to whom they j committed the custody of the word of their J great Lord’s patience : they in the mean time sheltering themselves under the shadow of fig-tree-leaf distinctions, which will not sconce against the wrath of an angry God in the cool of the day.” And, finally , what can have a more gloomy aspect in the midst of these evils, (with many more that might be noticed), “ when our pleasant things are laid waste,” than to see such scenes of strife and divi- sion displayed and maintained among Christ’s professing witnesses in these lands, whereby true love and sympathy are eradi- B 10 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. cated, the very vitals of religion pulled out, and the ways of God and godliness lam- pooned and ridiculed, “ giving Jacob to the curse, and Israel to the reproaches.” And it is most lamentable, that while malignants from without are cutting down the carved work of the sanctuary, Christ’s professed friends and followers from within are busied in contention and animosities among them- selves, on account of which the enemy still advances and gains ground, similar to the case of the once famous and flourishing city and temple of Jerusalem, when they were utterly demolished by Titus Vespa- sian.* These seem to indicate, that the Lord is about to inflict His long threaten- ed, impending, but protracted judgments,! upon a sinning land, church and people. And as many of these Worthies have as- sured us, that judgments are abiding this church and nation ; so our present condition and circumstances would lead us to fear, that we are the generation ripening for them apace. How much need have we then of the Christian armour that made them proof against Satan, his emissaries, and every trial and tribulation to which they were subjected ! “ Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day.” But by this time something might have been said concerning the testimony of the church of Scotland, as it was carried on and handed down by these witnesses of Christ to posterity, in its different parts and periods. But as this has been some- * See Josephus’s De Bello Jud. lib. v. and vi., and of this destruction, Eusebius, lib. iii. chap. 6 ; and the life of Titus Vespasian. + “ Well may we tremble now ; wliat manners reign ; But wherefore ask we ; when a true reply Would shock too much. Kind Heaven avert events, Whose fatal nature might reply too plain ; Vengeance delay’d but gathers and ferments ; More formidably blackens in the wind, Brews deeper draughts of unrelenting wrath, And higher charges the suspended storm.” Young's Night Thoughts. what controverted in these our times, it would be too large a subject for the narrow limits of a preface, any further than to observe, that, (1.) The testimony of the church of Scotland is not only a free, full, and faith- ful testimony, yea, perhaps more extensive than that of any one church since Chris- tianity commenced in the world ; but also a sure and costly testimony, confirmed and sealed with blood ; “ and that too, of the best of our nobles, ministers, gentry, burgesses, and commons of all sorts : “ who loved not their lives unto the death, but overcame by the word of their testimony.” (2.) Although there is no truth what- ever, when once controverted, but becomes the word of Christ’s patience, so ought to be the word of our testimony ; truth and duty being always the same in all ages and periods of time. Yet the church of Christ in this world being under the influence of circumstances, I suppose there is no book which has or can be written, that will suit the case of one particular church at all times, and in all conditions: this pre- eminence the holy scriptures only can claim as a complete rule of faith and man- ners, principle and practice, in all places, ages, and times. (3.) The primitive witnesses had the divinity of the Son of God, and an open confession of him, for their testimony ; our reformers from Popery had Antichrist to struggle with, in asserting the doctrines of the gospel, and the right way of salvation in and through Jesus Christ; and again, in the reigns of James VI., and Charles I., Christ’s regalia,* and the divine right of * “ Here Christ’s crown rights not only became the word of their testimony, but also the very motto of their civil and military banners, insomuch as when that gallant Scots army lay at Dunse-muir, (anno 1639,) each captain had his colours flying at his tent door, whereon was this inscription in letters of gold, * Christ’s crown and covenant.”’ — Stevenson’s History , Vol. IT. p. 729. JOHN HOWIE’S PREFAQE. 11 presbytery, became the subject-matter of their testimony. Then, in the beginning of the reign of Charles II., during which the whole of our ancient and laudable con- stitution was effaced and overturned, our Worthies only saw it their duty to hold and contend for what they had already attained. But in the end of this and the subsequent tyrant’s reign, they found it their duty, a duty which they had too long neglected, to advance a step higher, by cast- ing off the civil authority altogether, and that both on account of their manifest usurpation of Christ’s crown and dignity, and of their treachery, bloodshed, and tyranny. And yet, as all these faithful witnesses of Christ did agree in promoting the kingdom and interest of the Messiah, in all his threefold offices, standing in de- fence of religion and liberty, and that not only in opposition to the more gross errors of popery, but even to the more refined errors of English hierarchy, so we must take their testimony to be materially the same, only under different circumstances. Their testimony may be stated thus : the primi- tive Martyrs sealed the prophetic office of Christ, in opposition to pagan idolatry, — the reforming Martyrs sealed his priestly office with their blood, in opposition to popish idolatry. — But last of all, our late Martyrs have sealed his kingly office with their best blood, in despite of supremacy and bold Erastianism. They indeed have cemented it upon his royal head, so that to the world’s end it shall never drop off again. But, candid reader, to detain you no longer with such considerations, — I have put the following sheets into your hands, wherein if you find anything amiss, either in subject or style, let it be ascribed to anything else rather than want of honesty or integrity of intention. Consi- der that all mankind are liable to err, and that there is more difficulty in digesting such a great mass of materials into this small composition, than in writing many volumes. Indeed, there is but little pro- bability that a work of this nature can altogether escape or evade the critical eye of some readers, particularly such as are either entirely ignorant of reformation principles, or what the Lord hath done for covenanted Scotland ; and those also who can bear with nothing but what comes from men who are of a uniform status or persuasion with themselves. Hence, in the anticipation of objections that might arise, the few following things may be observed : It may be objected, that many things might have been published more useful for the present generation, than the deeds and public actions of those men who have- stood so long condemned by the laws of the na- tion, these having been exploded by some, and accounted such a reproach, as unfit to be any longer on record. In answer to this, I shall only notice, (1.) That there have been some hundreds of volumes published of things fabulous, fictitious, and romantic, fit for little else than to amuse the credu- lous reader ; while this subject has been in a great measure neglected. (2.) That it has been the constant practice of the Lord’s people in all ages, to hand down and keep on record what the Lord had done by and for their forefathers. We find the royal Psalmist, in name of the church, oftener j than once at this work, Psal. xliv. and Ixxviii., “We have heard with our ears, O God ; our fathers have told us, what works thou didst in their days, in the times of old: we will not hide them from their children, showing to the generation to come the praises of the Lord.” (3.) That it has been the practice of all nations, our own not excepted, to publish the warlike exploits and martial achievements of those most illustrious heroes, who distinguished them- selves in defence of their native country 12 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. | j for a little worldly honour, or a little tem- | porary subsistence ; and shall we he behind jj in publishing the lives, characters, and most memorable actions of those noble j champions of Christ, who not only stood in defence of religion and liberty, but also fought the battles of the Lord against his and their avowed enemies, till, in imitation of their princely Master, their garments j were all stained with blood, for which their names shall be had in everlasting remem- 1 brance. (4.) And although it must he granted, that in foro hominis, their actions and attainments cannot now be pleaded; yet in foro Dei , that which was lawful from the beginning cannot afterwards be made ’ sinful* or void ; and the longer they have been buried under the ashes of neglect and apostasy, the more need have they to be raised up and revived. It is usual for men to keep that well which was left them by their fathers ; and for us either to oppose or industriously conceal any part of these their contendings, would be not only an ad- dition to the contempt already thrown upon the memories of these renowned fathers, but also an injury done to posterity. “ Your | honourable ancestors, with the hazard of their lives, brought Christ into our lands ; and it shall be cruelty to posterity if ye lose him to them,” said one of these Wor- thies to a Scots nobleman.f Again, some may be ready to object, “ that many things related in this collection smell too much of enthusiasm; and that other things narrated therein, are beyond all credit.” But these we must suppose to ! be either quite ignorant of what the Lord j did for our forefathers in former times, or ; else in a great measure destitute of the like gracious influences of the Holy Spirit, by which they were actuated and animated. For, * See Collection of Acts of Parliament (said to be Andrew Stevenson’s), Preface to part II. f Mr Rutherford, in a letter to the earl of Cas- sillis. See his Letters, part I. epist. 23. (1.) These Worthies did and suffered much for Christ and his cause in their day and generation, and therefore in a peculiar and singular manner were honoured and beloved by him; and although there are some things here narrated of rather an ex- traordinary nature, yet as they imply no- thing contrary to reason, they do not for- feit their title to any man’s belief, since they are otherwise well attested, and ob- viously referred to a Cause whose ways and thoughts surmount the ways and thoughts of men, as far as the heavens are above the earth. The sacred history affords us stores of instances and examples of a more transcendent nature than anything here narrated; the truth of which we are as little at liberty to question, as the divinity of the book in which they are related. (2.) As to the soul exercise and pious devotion of these men, they are so far supported by the authority of scripture, that there is mentioned by them, as a ground of their hope, some text or passage thereof which rested upon their minds, suited and adapted to their cases and cir- cumstances; by the faith of which they were enabled to lay claim to some particu- lar promise, “ as a lamp unto their feet, and a light unto their path,” and this neither hypocrite nor enthusiast can do : “ For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ,” 1 Cor. iii. 11. But then it may be alleged by those who have a high esteem for this subject, that nothing is here given as a commendation suitable or adequate to the merit of these Worthies, considering their zeal, diligence, and activity in the discharge of their duty, in the office or station which they filled. This indeed comes nearer the truth ; for it is very common for biographers to pass eulogiums of a very high strain in praise of those whom they affect. But in these panegyrical orations, they often rather ex- JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. 13 ceed than excel. It was an ancient, but true saying of the Jews, “ that great men (and we may say good men) commonly find stones for their own monuments and laudable actions always support themselves. “ And a thing,” as an author* observes on a like subject, “ if right, it will defend itself ; if wrong, none can defend it : truth needs not, falsehood deserves not, a sup- porter.” Indeed it must be regretted, that this Collection is not drawn out with more advantage to the cause of Christ, and the interest of religion, in commending the mighty acts of the Lord done for and by his worthy servants, in a way suitable to the merit and dignity of such a subject. And it is the greater pity, “ that those who have a good will to such a piece of service cannot do it; while those who should and can do it, will not do it.” But here I shall make no other apology than what our Saviour, in another ease, said to the woman, “ She hath done what she could.” All that I shall observe anent the form or method used in the following lives, is, that they are all, except one, ranged in order, according to the time of their exit, and not according to their birth ; and that in general, the history of their birth, parent- age, and memorable transactions, is first inserted; and with as few repetitions as possible : yea, sometimes, to save a repeti- tion, a fact is related of one Worthy in the life of another, which is not in his own life. Then follows their characteristic part, which ofttimes is just one’s testimony successively of another; and last of all their works. That which is given in their own words, is mostly printed within invert- ed commas. I know it is usual when relating matters * Fuller, in the Preface to his “ Lives in the Holy State.” of fact, to make remarks and reflections ; but as this often brings authors under suspicion of party zeal or partiality, they are designedly waived in the body of the book. Anything of this kind is placed among other things in the foot-notes, where the reader is at a little more freedom to choose or refuse as he pleases, only with this proviso, that truth be always regarded. The last thing to be observed is, that as the credit due to this history depends so much upon the authors from whom it was extracted, their names should have been inserted. The reader, however, will find the most part of them mentioned in these notes ; so that if any one doubt of the veracity of anything here related, he may have recourse to the original authors ; some of whom, though enemies to reformation principles, nevertheless serve to illustrate the facts narrated in these Memoirs ; as nothing serves more to confirm either truth or historical facts, than the testimony of their opponents. But to conclude. May the Lord arise and plead his own cause, in putting a final stop to all manner of prevailing wickedness ; hasten that day when the glorious light of the gospel shall shine forth in purity, with the power and success of former times, and with a great enlargement of the Me- diator’s kingdom; “when his dominion shall be extended from the river to the ends of the earth ;” when all these heats, ani- mosities, and breaking divisions that now prevail and increase among Christ’s pro- fessed friends and followers, shall be healed ; and being cemented and knitted to one another, they may join heart and hand together in the matters of the Lord, and the concerns of his glory ; “ when Ephraim shall no more envy Judah, and Judah shall no more vex Ephraim, but both shall fly upon the shoulders of the Philistines,” Isa. xi. 13 ; “ when her officers shall be peace, and her exactors righteous- - ■ — ■■ ■ — 'i 14 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. ness,” “ and shall see eye to eye, when the Lord shall bring again the captivity of Zion.” — Thus when we are endeavouring to perpetuate the memory of these Wor- thies, and commemorate what the Lord did for and by our forefathers, in the days of old, may we be so happy as to have somewhat to declare of his goodness, and wonderful works done for us in our day and generation also. And if the following sheets shall in the least, through divine grace, under the management of an over-ruling providence, which claims the care of directing every mean to its proper end, prove useful to the reclaiming of neutrals from backsliding courses, to the confirming of doubters, and j the encouraging of others to the like forti- ! tude and vigorous zeal, to contend for their most valuable privileges, wdiether of a civil ! or a religious nature, then shall I think all ! my pains recompensed, and the end gained. For, that many may be found “ standing in the way, to see and ask for the good old paths, and walk therein, cleaving to the law and to the testimony,” would be the joy, and is the earnest desire of one, im- partial reader, who remains thy friend and wellwisher in the truth, JOHN HOWIE. Lochgoin, July 21, 1775. THE LIVES OP THE SCOTS WORTHIES. INTRODUCTION. Christianity seems to have made its appearance in Scotland at a very early period: according to some writers, it was propagated in this kingdom by the apostles themselves. It is said by some, that Simon Zelotes, by others that Paul, preached the gospel in this part of the world ; but as this opinion is not supported on proper autho- rity, it merits only the regard due to con- jecture, not the attention which an un- doubted narrative demands. Another, and more probable account, is, that during the [ persecution raised by Domitian,(the twelfth and last Caesar, about A.D. 96,) some of the disciples of the apostle John fled into our island, and there taught the religion of Jesus . It does not appear that Christianity made any very rapid progress for a considerable time. The first account of the success of the gospel that can be de- pended on, is, that about A.D. 203, king Donald I., with his queen and several courtiers, were baptized, and continued for a time to promote the interests of Chris- tianity, in opposition to pagan idolatry. But the invasion of the emperor Severus disturbed this king’s measures ; so that for the space of more than seventy years after, religion declined and the idolatry of the Druids prevailed. They were an order of heathen priests, who performed their rites in groves of oak trees ; a species of idolatry of great antiquity, being of the same kind [Druidical Worship.] to which the Jews so often revolted. These Druids likewise possessed a considerable share of civil power, which made it a very difficult task to establish a religion so opposite to, and subversive of, their own : ' but the difficulties which Christianity has in every age and country had to encounter, have served its interest, and illustrated the power and grace of its divine Author. About the year 277, they were expelled by king Cratilinth, who took special care to obliterate every memorial of them ; and 16 SCOTS WORTHIES. from this period we may date the true era of Christianity in Scotland, because, from this time forward, until the persecution under the emperor Diocletian, in the be- ginning of the fourth century, there was a gradual increase of the true knowledge of God and religion. That persecution be- came so hot in the southern parts of Britain, as to drive many, both preachers and professors, into Scotland, where they were kindly received, and had the Isle of Man, then in possession of the Scots, given them for their residence, and a sufficient [ maintenance assigned them. King Crati- linth built a church for them, which was j called the church of our Saviour, in the j Greek gwttjo, and is now, by corruption, | Sodor, in Icolmkill, one of the western ^Church of Sodor in Icolmkill.] isles. These men were not employed, like the Druidical priests in whose place they had come, in settling the worldly affairs of men, but gave themselves wholly to divine services, instructing the ignorant, comfort- ing the weak, administering the sacraments, and training up disciples to the same services. Whether these refugees were the ancient Guldees, or a different set of men, it is neither easy nor material to determine. Some profess to trace Culdeeism to the primitive ages of Christianity, while others ascribe its institutions to Columba about the middle of the sixth century. The Culdees (from cultores Dei , worshippers of God) flourished at this time: they were called /xovaxpi , or monks, from the secluded religious lives which they led ; and the cells into which they had retired, w T ere, after their deaths, mostly converted into churches, which to this day retain their names, as Cell, or Kill, or church of Marnock ; Kil- Patrick, Kil-Malcom, &c. Opposed to papal supremacy in unyielding resistance, they differed from the votaries of the Ro- mish church, not only in their rigid adher- ence to the infallible standard of the word of God, but also differed from them in their habits as a body of Christian teachers : far from cloistering themselves in some retreat, wherein they could look forth with cold unconcern upon the doings of their fellow- men, — bearing not the trials and vicissi- tudes of life, or sharing its joys ; confining that love which they owed to the human family within the limited circle of a mo- nastic fraternity, or seeking the aggrandize- ment of the order to which they belonged, the Culdees, like Paul, laboured for their INTRODUCTION. 17 subsistence among their fellow-men ; they performed all the duties of useful members of society, while they taught and preached the truths of the gospel. Their manner of operation was to choose superintendents from among themselves, whose office obliged them to travel the country, in order to see that every one dis- charged his duty properly : but these men were utter strangers to the lordly power of the modern prelate, having no proper dio- cese, and only a temporary superintendency, with which they were invested by their brethren, and to whom they were account- able. It was an institution, in the spirit of it the same with the private censures of ministers among presbyterians. During the reigns of Cratilinth and Fin- cormac his successor, the Culdees were in a flourishing state : but after the death of the latter, both the church and state of Scotland went into disorder. Maximus, the Roman prefect, stirred up the Piets to aid him against the Scots, who were totally defeated; their king, Ewing, with most part of the nobility being slain. This bloody battle was fought about the year 380, at the water of Doon, in Garrick. This overthrow was immediately succeeded by an edict commanding all the Scots, with- out exception, to depart the kingdom against a certain day, under pain of death. This drove them entirely into Ireland, and the western isles of Denmark and Norway, except a few ecclesiastics who wandered about from place to place. After an exile of forty-four, or, accord- ing to Buchanan, twenty-seven years, which the Scots endured, the Piets became sen- sible of their error in assisting the Romans against them, and accordingly strengthened the hands of the few who remained, and invited the fugitives back into their own land. These were joined by some foreigners, and returned, with Fergus II., then in Denmark, at their head. Their enterprise was the more successful, that at this time many of the Roman forces were called I home. Their king was crowned with the usual rites in his own country, and the news i of his success drew great numbers to him ; insomuch that he recovered all the country out of which the Scots had been expelled, j Most of the foreign forces returned home, except the Irish, who received the country of Galloway for their reward. This suc- cessful undertaking happened about the year 404, or, as others will have it, 420. The Culdees were now called from their lurking places, restored to their livings, and had their churches repaired. At this time they possessed the people’s esteem to a higher degree than ever : but this tran- j quillity was again interrupted by a more 1 1 formidable enemy than before. The Pela- ' gian heresy had now gained considerable j ground in Britain: it is so called from j Pelagius, a monk at Rome. Its chief arti- i cles are, 1. That original sin is not inherent. ! 2. That faith is a thing natural. 3. That good works done by our own strength, of our own free-will, are agreeable to the law of God, and worthy of heaven. Whether all or only part of these errors then infected the Scottish church, is uncertain; but i Celestine, then bishop of Rome, embraced j this opportunity to send Palladius among I them, who, joining with the orthodox of south Britain, restored peace to that part of the church, by suppressing the heresy. Eugenius the Second, being desirous that this church should likewise be purged of the impure leaven, invited Palladius hither, who, obtaining liberty from Celestine, and being enjoined to introduce the hierarchy as opportunity should offer, came into Scot- land, and succeeded so effectually in his com- mission, as both to confute Pelagianism and new” model the government of the church. The church of Scotland as yet knew no officers vested with pre-eminence above their brethren, nor had anything to do with 18 SCOTS WORTHIES. the Roman pontiff, until the year 450. Bede says, that “ Palladius was sent unto the Scots who believed in Christ, as their first bishop Boetius likewise says, “that Palladius was the first of all who did bear holy magistracy among the Scots, being made bishop by the great pope.” Fordun, in his Chronicle, tells us that, “ before the coming of Palladius, the Scots had for teachers of the faith, and ministers of the sacraments, presbyters only, or monks, following the customs of the primitive church.”! Tradition affirms that the shire of Kincardine was the scene of his residence j and labours ; the place where his ashes are said to repose being still marked by the j ruins of a chapel bearing his name. But while we may consider him as hav- i ing opened that intercourse which gradually j obtained more and more between Scotland and Rome, yet we are not to date from his time the era of diocesan bishops ; for there were no such office-bearers in the church of Scotland, until the reign of Malcolm II., in the eleventh century. During the first 1000 years after Christ, there were no divided dioceses, nor superiorities over others, but they governed in the church in common with presbyters ; so that they were no more than nominal bishops, possessing little or nothing of that lordly dignity, which they now, and for a long time past, have enjoyed. Spottiswood (History, p. 29,) himself testifies, that the Scottish bishops, before the eleventh cen- j tury, exercised their functions indifferently ! in every place to which they came. Palla- ! dius may be said to have rather laid the foundation of the after degeneracy of the church of Scotland, than to have built that superstructure of corruption and idolatry which afterwards prevailed ; because she continued for near two hundred years in a * Vide Bede’s Eccles. Hist. lib. i. ch. 13. Buchanan Hist, book v. 1 Book iii. chap. 8. state comparatively pure and unspotted, when we cast our eyes on the following periods of her history. Columba, too, a native of Ireland, and descended from royal blood, flourished about the middle of the sixth century. His education was intrusted to Irish ecclesiastics ; but on account of some civil dissensions he left his native country, and travelled both in Europe and Asia, which might tend to give him that intrepidity which he afterwards so nobly displayed in propagating the gospel. While Ireland had been early blessed with Christianity, Scotland was wrapped up in the darkness of ignorance and superstition ; hence it was that Columba, after his return to his native land, set out on that missionary tour which entitled him to be called the Apostle of the Highlands. In the year 563, he sailed in a small wicker boat with twelve asso- ciates, and landed on Hi, or Iona, now called Icolmkill, or Columkill, for Columba himself. Here he established his missionary college, which gave birth to those of Dun- keld, Abernethy, St Andrew’s, Abercorn, Govan on the Clyde, and many other reli- gious establishments. Hence this remote and rugged isle may be viewed as the upper room in Jerusalem, a well-spring whence flowed a flood of gospel light throughout our land. It is affirmed that Columba was not only instrumental in propagating the gospel in Britain and Ireland, but also on the continent of Europe, particularly France and Italy. About the end of the sixth and begin- ning of the seventh century, a number of pious and wise men flourished in the country, among whom was Kentigern, commonly called St Mungo. Some of these men were employed by Oswald, a Northumbrian king, to instruct his people ; they are represented by Bede, as eminent for their love to God, and knowledge of the holy scriptures. The light of the gospel, INTRODUCTION. 19 by their means, broke into other parts of the Saxon dominions, which long main- tained an opposition to the growing usurpa- tion of the church of Rome, which, after the middle of this century, was strenuously supported by Austin s disciples. Besides these men, the church of Scotland at this time sent many other worthy and success- ful missionaries into foreign parts, parti- cularly France and Germany. Thus was Scotland early privileged, and thus were her privileges improved ; but soon “ the gold became dim, and the most fine gold was changed.” Popery came now by degrees to show her horrid head ; the assiduity of Austin and his disciples in England was attended with melancholy consequences to Scotland : by fomenting divisions, corrupting her princes with Romish principles, and inat- tention to the lives of her clergy, the papal power soon came to be universally acknow- ledged. In the seventh century a hot contest arose between Austin and his dis- ciples on the one part, and the Scots and the northern Saxons on the other, about the time of keeping Easter, the threefold immersion in baptism, shaving of priests, &c. ; which the latter would not receive, nor submit to the authority that imposed them. Each party refused ministerial com- munion with the other party, until an arbitral decision was given by Osway, king of the Northumbrians, at Whitby in Yorkshire, in favour of the Romanists, when the opinions of the Scots were exploded, and the modish fooleries of papal hierarchy es- tablished. This decision, however, was far from putting an end to the confusion which this dissension had occasioned; the Ro- manists urged their rites with rigour, the others rather chose to yield their places than conform. Their discouragements daily increased, as the clerical power was augmented. In the year 886, they obtain- ed the act exempting them from taxes, and all civil prosecutions before temporal judges, and ordaining that all matters con- cerning them should be tried by their bishops, who were at this time vested with those powers, which are now in the hands of commissioners, respecting matrimonial causes, testaments, &c. They were like- wise by the same statute empowered to make canons, try heretics, &c. ; and all future kings were ordained to take an oath at their coronation, for maintaining these privileges to the church. The Convention of Estates which passed this act was held at Forfar, in the reign of that too indulgent prince, Gregory. In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, Malcolm III., Alexander, David, &c., suc- cessively supported this dignity, by erecting particular bishoprics, abbeys, and monas- teries. The same superstitious zeal seized the nobility of both sexes, some giving a third, others more, and others their whole estates for the support of pontifical pride, and spiritual tyranny ; which soon became insupportable, and opened the eyes of the nation, so that they discovered their mistake in raising clerical authority to such a height. Accordingly, we find the nobles complain- ing of it to Alexander III., who reigned after the middle of the thirteenth century; but he was so far from being able to afford them redress, that when they were excom- municated by the church on account of this complaint, to prevent greater evils, he was obliged to cause the nobility to satisfy both the avarice and arrogance of the clergy, j who had now resolved upon retiring to | Rome, with a view to raise as great com- j motions in Scotland, as Thomas-a-Becket had lately made in England. The pope’s power was now generally acknowledged over Christendom, particu- larly in our nation, for which, in return, the church of Scotland was declared free from all foreign spiritual jurisdiction, that of the “ apostolic see only excepted.” This SCOTS WORTHIES. 120 I bull was occasioned by an attempt of one I Roger, bishop of York, in the year 1159, to raise himself to the dignity of metropo- litan of Scotland, and who found means to become legate of this kingdom, but lost that office upon the remonstrance of the clergy. This remonstrance procured the above bull in their favour, with many other favours of a like nature at this time con- ferred upon them, by all of which they were exempted from any other jurisdiction than that of Rome ; so that we find pope Boniface VIII., commanding Edward of England to cease hostilities against the Scots, alleging that “the sovereignty of Scotland belonged to the church a claim which seems to have been founded in the papal appointment for the unction of the ! Scots kings, which was first used on king Edgar, A. d. 1098, and at that time regard- ed by the people as a new mark of royalty; ■ but which, as the appointment of the pope, was really the mark off the beast. There were now in Scotland all the | orders of monks and friars, Templars, or | red monks, Trinity monks of Aberdeen, | Cistertian monks, Carmelite, Black, and ! Grey friars, Carthusians, Dominicans, , Franciscans, Jacobines, Benedictines, &c. ; • which show to what a height antichrist had raised his head in our land, and how readily all his oppressive measures were complied with by all ranks. But the reader must not think, that during the period we have now reviewed, J there were none to oppose this torrent of superstition and idolatry ; for from the first appearance of the Roman antichrist in this j kingdom, God wanted not witnesses for ; the truth, who boldly stood forth in defence | of the blessed and pure gospel of Christ, i Mention is first- made of Clements and j Samson, two famous Culdees, who in the 1 seventh century supported the authority I of Christ as the only king and head of his j church, against the usurped power of Rome, and who rejected the superstitious rites of antichrist as contrary to the simplicity of gospel institutions. The succeeding age was no less remarkable for learned and pious men, to whom Scotland gave birth, j and whose praise was in the churches abroad ; particularly Joannes Scotus, who j wrote a book upon the eucharist, condem- j ned by Leo IX., in the year 1030, long after ! his death. In the ninth century, a con- vention of estates was held at Scoon for the reformation of the clergy, their lives j and conversations at that time being a j reproach to common decency and good , manners, not to say piety and religion. The remedies provided at this convention discover the nature of the disease. It was ordained, that churchmen should reside upon their charges, that they should not j intermeddle with secular affairs, but instruct j the people, and be good examples in their i conduct ; that they should not keep hawks, j hounds, or horses, for their pleasure, and j that they should carry no weapons, nor be j pleaders in civil causes. And if they failed j in the observance of these injunctions, they ' were to be fined for the first, and deposed | for the second transgression. These laws were made under king Constantine II.; but j his successor, Gregory, rendered them abor- I tive by his indulgence. The age following was not remarkable for witnesses to the truth ; but historians are agreed that there were still some of the Culdees, who lived and ministered apart from the Romanists, and taught the people that Christ was the only propitiation for sin, and that his blood only could wash them from the guilt of it, in opposition to the indulgence and pardons of the pope. Mr A. Shields, in his “ Hind let Loose,” says, that the Culdees trans- mitted their testimony to the Lollards ;* and pope John XXII., in his bull for anointing king Robert Bruce, complains * Hind let Loose, period II. p. 11, first edit. i INTRODUCTION. 21 that there were many heretics in Scotland; so that we may safely affirm, there never was any very great period of time without witnesses for the truth, and against the gross corruptions of the church of Rome. Some of our kings themselves opposed the pope’s supremacy, and prohibited his legates from entering their dominions : the most remarkable instance of this kind is that of Robert Bruce. After his having defeated the English at Bannockburn, they became suppliants to the pope for his mediation ; who accordingly sent a legate into Scot- land, proposing a cessation of arms till the pope should hear and decide the quarrel betwixt the crowns, and be informed of the •right which Edward had to the crown of Scotland. To this king Robert replied, “that the pope could not be ignorant of that business, since it had been often ex- plained to his predecessors, in the hearing of many cardinals then alive, who could tell him, if they pleased, what insolent answers pope Boniface received from the English, while they were desired to desist from oppressing the Scots. And now,” said he, “ when it hath pleased God to give us the better by some victories, by which we have not only recovered our own, but can make them live as good neighbours, they have recourse to such treaties, seeking to gain time in order to fall upon us again with greater force : but in this his holiness must excuse me, for I will not be so un- wise as to let the advantage I have slip out of my hand.” The legate regarding this answer as contemptuous, interdicted the kingdom, and departed : but king Robert, j paying little regard to such proceedings, followed hard after the legate, and enter- ing England, wasted all the adjacent coun- ties with fire and sword. In the beginning of the fifteenth century, the reformation from popery began to dawn in Scotland ; at this time there was pope I against pope, nay, sometimes three of them I at once, all excommunicating one another ; which schism lasted for about thirty years, and, by an over-ruling providence, contri- buted much to the downfall of antichrist, and to the revival of real religion and learning in Scotland, and many parts in Europe ; for many embracing the oppor- tunity now afforded to them, began to speak openly against the heresy, tyranny, and immorality of the clergy. Among those who preached publicly against these evils, were John Huss and Jerome of Prague in Bohemia, John Wickliffe in England, and John Resby, an Englishman and scholar of Wickliffe’s in Scotland, who | came hither about the year 1407, and was j called in question for some doctrines which ! he taught against the pope’s supremacy ; i he was condemned to the fire, which he j endured with great constancy. About ten i years after, one Paul Craw, a Bohemian, and follower of Huss, was accused of heresy before such as were then called doctors of theology. The articles of charge were, that he followed Huss and Wickliffe j in the opinion of the sacrament of the supper, denying that the substance of bread and wine were changed by virtue of any j words, and that auricular confession to j priests, or praying to departed saints, were j proper. He was committed to the secular | judge, condemned to the flames at St An- j drews, where he suffered, being gagged j when led to the stake, that he might not 1 have the opportunity of making his confes- | sion. Both the above-mentioned martyrs suffered under Henry Wardlaw, bishop of St Andrews, who founded that university, 1412 ; which might have done him honour, 1 had he not imbrued his hands in innocent j blood. These returnings of the gospel light were not confined to St Andrews: Kyle, Garrick, Cunningham, and other places in the west of Scotland, were also favoured about the same time ; for we find that j 22 SCOTS WORTHIES. Robert Blackatter, the first archbishop of Glasgow, anno 1494, caused summon be- fore king James IV., and his council at Glasgow, George Campbell of Cessnock, Adam Reid of Barskimming, John Camp- bell of Newmills, Andrew Shaw of Pol- kemmet, lady Pokellie, and lady Stair. They were opprobriously called the Lollards of Kyle, from Lollard, an eminent preacher among the Waldenses, for maintaining that images ought not to be worshipped ; that the relics of saints should not be adored, and other obnoxious tenets ; but they answered their accusers with such constancy and boldness, that it was judged ! most prudent to dismiss them with an admonition, to content themselves with the ; faith of the church, and to beware of new doctrines. Thus have we brought down this sum- mary of church affairs in Scotland to the time of Patrick Hamilton, whose life stands first in this collection ; which contains a somewhat minute history of the church in our land, during the period to which it refers. PATRICK HAMILTON. This illustrious youth, destined to the high honour of being the first* to announce the truth to his fellow countrymen, and the first to seal it with his blood, was born in the year 1504. He was of royal lineage, being the son of Sir Patrick Hamilton of Kincavil,who was the son of lord Hamilton, by a sister of king James III. By ma- ternal descent his birth was not less illustrious ; his mother being a daughter of John duke of Albany, brother to the * It is not strictly true that Patrick Hamilton was either the first who announced the truth in Scotland, or there sealed it with his blood. Dr M‘Crie affirms it as his conviction, that the opinions of Wickliffe had a powerful and extensive influence upon the Reformation in Scotland, before Patrick Hamilton made his appearance. This learned his- torian says, “ we can trace the existence of the Lollards in Ayrshire from the time of Wickliffe to the days of George Wishart ; and in Fife they were so numerous, as to have formed the design of rescuing Patrick Hamilton by force on the day of his execution.” And with regard to priority in the martyrdom of Scotland, in the records of the city of Glasgow, mention is made by historians of one James Resby, an Englishman and a scholar of Wickliffe, who was accused by Lawrence Lindoris in Scotland, in the reign of Robert III., for hav- ing said that the pope was not the vicar of Christ, and that a man of wicked life was not to be acknow- ledged as pope. For holding these two tenets he was burnt alive. In the reign of James I., about the year 1431, Paul Craw, a Bohemian and a disciple of the celebrated John Huss, was committed to the flames at St Andrew's, under the primacy of cardinal Henry Wardlaw, archbishop of that see. But these are instances so isolated, that it may be said, without offending truth, that Patrick Hamilton was the first who suffered for the doctrines of the Reformation. same monarch. He was early educated with a view to future high preferment, and had the abbacy of Ferme given him that he might prosecute his studies, which he did with great assiduity. He was sent to the university of St An- drews,* and there he finished his studies in philosophy and belles lettres. His vigorous mind gave promise of future eminence, and when he was little more than twenty years of age, he had made himself master of all the learning then in repute. The university of St Andrews, although it had not been a century in existence, was at this time in considerable reputation, and contained many learned men. The celebrated John Mair, or Major, the preceptor of our great reformer Knox, and of our unrivalled classical scholar Buchanan, flourished at this time, and was professor of philosophy and theology at St Andrews, where Ham- ilton received his education. Major was born at North Berwick, studied at Oxford and Paris, and became a professor of the Sorbonne, in 1509. In 1519, he was in- vited to his native country by James Beaton, archbishop of Glasgow, and in- ducted professor in the archiepiscopal uni- versity of St Andrews. His patron, Beaton, four years afterwards, followed him to that * This is stated on the authority of Mackenzie, but it may be questioned. Had Hamilton been educated at St Andrews, Knox, who was a student there at the time, would have recorded it. Knox does not seem even to have been acquainted with him. SCOTS WORTHIES. 24 city, as archbishop and primate. He died about the year 1550. His Commentary on the Third Book of the “ Magister Sen- tentiarum,” and his “Exposition of Mat- thew’s Gospel, had by this time been printed in Latin at Paris, the former in 1517, the latter in the following year. Objectionable as many of Major’s writings undeniably are, yet he deserves applause for exposing several of the most glaring errors and abuses of his time. He was at that period reckoned the greatest master of the sciences which he taught. From the circumstances of his having acquired the chief part of his education in France, and his having held the professorial chair I in the university of Paris, Major had ac- quired a nicer discrimination of things, and more rational and liberal modes of think- ing, than were to be met with in Scotland, or indeed in many other parts of Europe. He adopted the opinions on polity defend- ed by John Gerson and Peter D’Ailly, who had nobly, and with so much applause, argued in favour of the council of Con- stance, against those who advocated the doctrine of the pope’s unlimited power. Major, in fact, taught many things which | must have been peculiarly obnoxious to the catholic clergy, and which must have had a peculiar influence on the minds of his pupils ; such as, that a general council was superior to the pope, and might rebuke, restrain, and even depose him ; he denied the temporal power of the Roman bishop, and loudly censured the ambition, avarice, and splendour of the Vatican. These, with : a variety of other opinions which Major | taught, must have excited some spirit of I inquiry among his hearers, which would not likely end in increasing their devotion to the Romish church. Under such a teacher, Hamilton’s mind must have been preparing for the reception of the truth, although his preceptor still held several untenable and inconsistent doctrines, and could not, therefore, be a very safe guide to his noble pupil. In this manner did Patrick Hamilton finish his studies at the university ; and j although he acquired great applause for j his learning from his teachers, there is no | definite notice taken by any historian of his appearance as a student. Knox must have been at the university during this period, hut he is altogether silent on the subject, as he generally is, on the early lives of all the Reformers. There does not seem to have been a great intimacy subsisting be- tween Hamilton and Knox, though the latter was only one year younger. Knox, | indeed, never mentions that he knew him at all, though the supposition is not impro- I bahle, that there might have been an ac- quaintanceship. It must he recollected, however, that Knox was at this time a priest of the Romish church, having re- ceived orders before he arrived at the canonical age, — and that the absence of the future martyr from Scotland, for a season, might also tend to stop all commu- j nication. Another reason might also be j alleged, — the high birth of Hamilton, and j the comparative obscurity of Knox, — for the latter had not as yet given those indi- cations of the important part he was to sustain in the future Reformation of his country, which more than counterbalanced the most splendid family renown, or illus- j trious alliance. Hamilton was in the twenty -second year j of his age when the knowledge of divine truth dawned upon his mind. His conduct j had already drawn upon him the suspicions of the clergy. The freedom with which i he recommended ancient learning instead of the dogmas of the schools, and the no less undisguised language which he used in declaiming against the corruptions of the church, made him an object of peculiar notice. His influence, however, was not yet of such consequence, as to warrant PATRICK HAMILTON. 25 punishment. ; and as he still remained in the church, and in all probability would be one of her greatest dignitaries ; his opinions were viewed as the ebullitions of a heated imagination. But to Hamilton they were not so, and, ere the canonical age for re- ceiving his ordination, he resolved, in the year 1526, to leave Scotland, and to im- prove his mind by travelling in foreign parts. This was the prevalent custom in those days among men of rank, and espe- cially among those who were designed for the church. The continent was the great resort of all our learned men, and they returned to their native land, after having pursued a course of study there, to the discharge of those duties for which they were eventually destined. Hamilton proceeded to Germany, being attracted thither by the great fame of Luther. He first repaired to Wittemberg, the residence of that reformer, by whom he was received with cordiality, and intro- duced to Melancthon, the most amiable and moderate of all the reformers. They retained Hamilton a short time with them, and then recommended him to the univer- sity of Marpurg. This university had been recently founded by Philip, the landgrave of Hesse, who was distinguished above all the princes of that age for his learning, and he had placed at its head the cele- brated scholar, Francis Lambert of Avig- non. This great man, who had resigned a most lucrative situation, and left his native country, in consequence of his attachment to the reformed doctrines, soon felt towards Hamilton the greatest attachment. The young Scotsman with fondness and ardour adopted the sentiments of his preceptor, and attended with the utmost regularity his daily prelections. His residence at Marpurg* was to him of the utmost ad- * ,f Dempster says, that Hamilton was a professor in the university of Marpurg, but this is' very im- probable.”— Mackenzie, vol. ii. p. 137. ]1 vantage ; and here it was that he first felt an anxious desire to preach the gospel to his own countrymen, and to instruct them in true religion. He communicated his sentiments to Lambert, who freely warned him of the danger to which he would he exposed, and he tried to persuade him to remain at Marpurg ; but his resolution was fixed, and, taking an affectionate leave of his learned preceptor, with one domestic he prepared to return to Scotland. It does not appear whether Hamilton returned immediately to his native country, or prolonged his stay for a short time on the Continent, after leaving Marpurg. It is asserted by some historians that he was in Bohemia ; and there is probably some truth in the assertion, especially consider- ing Hamilton’s ardent disposition, and his eager desire after knowledge. Hamilton, however, found among the protestants of Germany certain principles congenial to his own, and, from his intimacy with Luther, who was now their greatest friend, he was received with great hospi- tality. He made himself master of all their tenets, though there is no ground for Mac- kenzie’s assertion, “ with a design of re- forming our church according to their models.” His residence was brief among them; for, earnest to commence the work of Reformation in his native land, he arrived in Scotland with a single attendant, in the year 1527. Accordingly, being as yet a youth not much past 23 years of age, he began to sow the seed of God’s word wherever he came, exposing the corruptions of the Romish church, and pointing out the errors which had crept into the Christian religion as professed in Scotland, — He was favourably received and followed by many, unto whom he readily “ showed the w r ay of God more perfectly.” His reputation as a scholar, and his courteous demeanour, contributed not a little to his usefulness in this good work. SCOTS WORTHIES. The arrival of Hamilton was not long a secret, nor was he allowed much time by j the clergy to disseminate his opinions. No | sooner had this young reformer set foot ! on his native land, than he felt his bowels yearning with compassion towards his de- luded countrymen ; and, contrasting the moral aspect of his country with that of the countries where he had been, he longed for the time when the Reformation should be as publicly acknowledged in Scotland as in Germany. But he knew that this could be accomplished only by human means ; and, nothing dismayed at the magnitude or the probable issue of the un- dertaking, he resolved himself to begin the noble work. James Beaton was at this time at the head of the Scottish catholic church, being archbishop of St Andrews, and lord chancellor of the kingdom. This primate soon made it appear, that he was determined to oppose, to the utmost, every advancement to knowledge. The conduct of Hamilton, in faithfully preaching -wher- ever he went, exposing the corruptions, and pointing out the dreadful errors of the church, as well as his celebrity as a scholar, and his general courtesy to all, roused the fury of the archbishop, and made him de- termine on revenge. The high birth and honourable connexions of Hamilton alone restrained him from proceeding openly; for though James V., then a minor, was on the throne, yet the primate well knew that the reformers noble relatives would shield him from his rage, even though they might not be led away by his doctrines. At all events, the alarm of the clergy was appa- rent, and they resolved as soon as possible to rid themselves of this dangerous and formidable enemy. The city of St Andrews — a place vene- rable for its antiquity, for its classical re- treats, and for the many impressive asso- ciations connected with it, was at that time the great capital of the clergy. Here the Romish hierarchy reared its majestic and imposing form ; and, surrounded by hundreds of priests, the primates w T ere wont to sit enthroned in power, in the splendid and magnificent cathedral, which the fanaticism of the reformers afterwards levelled with ^Cathedral ot SI Andrews, loisUj i PATRICK HAMILTON. 27 the ground. Beaton, as we have said, was archbishop, Hugh Spence provost of St Salvador’s college and dean of divinity, John Waddell, parson of Flisk, rector of the university, Janies Simson official of the abbey, John Gregson provincial of the Black Friars, Martin Balfour and John Spence lawyers, Sir John Annan canon of St Andrew’s, and Alexander Campbell prior of the Black Friars. Those, with a number of others of inferior note, consist- ing of canons, friars, rectors, deans, and prebendaries, completed the ecclesiastical chapter of this venerable city, which, in its contrast now, to the splendour of those days of superstition, in its almost deserted university, its silent streets, and mouldering ruins, exhibits a mournful picture of the wreck of ages, and of those mighty revolu- tions of time, in which cities, as well as kingdoms and empires, participate. The archbishop now became Hamilton’s inveterate enemy ; but the chief difficulty with the primate was how to get him into his power, as he was every day more con- vinced that his friends were powerful and numerous. Through craftiness, however, he at last succeeded ; for, concealing his intentions under the appearance of friend- ship, he invited Hamilton to St Andrew’s, under the pretence of holding a free con- ference with him, in which he lamented the errors of the church. The unsuspi- cious victim, thrown off his guard by the primate’s seeming candour, and rejoicing that he would have an opportunity of ar- guing with, and perhaps convincing, the greatest dignitary in the church, willingly consented. This was all the primate wish- ed, and accordingly he proceeded against him without delay. Thus, through the vilest artifice, cunning, and hypocrisy, did the archbishop of St Andrew’s succeed in apprehending a man, who, while he was at large, made him tremble in his archiepiscopal seat. Friar Alexander Campbell had several interviews with Hamilton, after his arrival in St Andrew’s. As Campbell was a man of learning and considerable talents, Ham- | ilton openly engaged him in disputation on the comparative effects of the reformed and popish doctrines, and the friar, though not convinced, felt himself vanquished. Fie knew well that the martyr’s positions were ’ true, but he could not subdue his preju- dices, and at once acquiesce in the evils of superstition. Nevertheless he went cunningly to work. He pretended to acknowledge the force of Flamilton’s objections against the clergy, | and the general errors of the Romish j church ; but no persuasions of the friar j could induce the Reformer to recant. All j his arguments rather tended the more to confirm Hamilton in the truth. Campbell at last left him, and proceeded to the arch- bishop, to whom he related his ill success. The primate had previously resolved what to do. Both he and the inferior clergy made concessions to Hamilton, for he was not as yet confined, owning that many things required reformation, which, they said, they earnestly wished ; but those ac- knowledgments, there is every reason to believe, were made only the more effect- ually to conceal their intentions, and to make Hamilton the more secure. Archbishop Beaton, however, soon threw off the mask of friendship and hospitality. Like his nephew and successor the cele- brated cardinal, who seems most liberally to have imbibed his spirit, he was dis- tinguished by the same want of principle, the same craftiness, desire for political in- trigue, and hatred to sacred truth. He showed his ambition to the greatest degree, during the two months he acquired the ascendancy in the government, after John duke of Albany had resigned the regency, which was shortly after his promotion from the see of Glasgow to the primacy of St SCOTS WORTHIES. Andrew’s, having succeeded the avaricious j Forman in the latter see, to the exclusion I of Gawin Douglas, the warrior bishop of Dunkeld, and celebrated translator of Vir- gil’s iEneid into Scottish verse ; and since that time, till the present, though he had been hated by the faction of the Douglases, and often compelled by them, while they retained possession of the king’s person, to lurk among his friends, he had insinuated i himself into the government, and on his i restitution to his archiepiscopal seat, after j the memorable escape of the king from the hands of the Douglases, he had resided in | splendour at St Andrew’s, equally power- i ful in church and state. As yet, till the j time of Hamilton, no heretic had disturbed | his security ; he had reposed on the downy j pillow of ease, and none dared to make him afraid ; but now, though he regarded not | the church, as far as religion was concern- ed, and was callous to everything uncon- j nected with his own aggrandizement, he | determined to arrest the progress of a man, | who was able, from his rank, influence, and | j talents, to shake his archiepiscopal throne, I and sow the seeds of dissension and turbu- I j lence in that church, of which he was the j | chief dignitary. Accordingly, in the middle j 1 of the night, an order was issued by the i primate for Hamilton’s apprehension, and I he was committed a close prisoner to the castle of St Andrew’s. Hamilton now saw the peculiar nature of his situation, but he was nothing dis- couraged at the dreary prospect. He was well instructed in the things of heaven, and those truths which he firmly believed now supported and animated his soul. He pre- pared himself for the issue, with all the calmness and resignation of a believer, committing his cause to Him who judgeth ; righteously. The measures which Beaton and his j clergy took after Hamilton’s apprehension, j frilly prove their original designs. Know- ing well that, from Hamilton’s rank and relationship to the royal family, there | would be powerful and not unlikely effectual j application for his life, the young king. James V., at the solicitation of the clergy, was persuaded to undertake a pilgrimage that same day to the shrine of St Dothes, j in Ross-shire, that he might be out of the j reach of all intercession in behalf of the ! victim. And yet those churchmen pre- tended that they had Hamilton’s salvation | at heart ! The tender mercies of the j wicked are cruel ; and the inveterate of- j fences which Patrick Hamilton, a youth j only twenty-four years of age, had com- mitted against the Romish hierarchy, could be expiated only by his blood. The day after Hamilton’s imprisonment, j a convention of the clergy was called by the archbishop, in which he presided in person. Hamilton was summoned to appear before them, and accordingly he was brought with all solemn parade into the abbey church. They charged him with preaching and maintaining heretical doc- trines, and they exhibited a number of charges of great importance, though they finally restricted them to some of those fundamental dogmas of popery which he denied. The doctrines for which he was condemned, however, according to Mac- kenzie and Spottiswoode (afterwards the protestant archbishop of that see), were the following : — “ 1. That the corruption of sin remains in children after their baptism. “ 2. That no man is without sin as long as he fives. “ 3. That no man, by the mere power of his free will, can do any good. “ 4. That every true Christian may know whether or not he is in a state of grace. “ 5. That a man is not justified by works, but by faith only. “ 6. That good works make not a man good, but that a good man doth good PATRICK HAMILTON. 29 works, and that an ill man doth ill works ; yet the same ill works truly repented of, do not make an ill man. “ 7. That faith, hope, and charity are so linked together, that he who hath one, hath all, and he who lacketh one, lacketh all. “ 8. That God is the cause of sin in this sense, that he withdraweth his grace from man, and when grace is withdrawn, he cannot but sin.” Other five charges were added, making them in all thirteen. “ 1. That auricular confession is not necessary to salvation. “ 2. That actual penance cannot pur- chase the remission of sins. “ 3. That there is no purgatory “4. That the holy patriarchs were in heaven before Christ’s passion. “ 5. That the pope is antichrist, and that every priest hath as much power as he.” The sentence, as given by Mr Fox in his “ Acts and Monuments of Martyrs,” is as follows : “ CHRIS TI nomine invocato : We James, by the mercy of God, archbishop of St Andrews, primate of Scotland, with the counsel, decree and authority, of the most reverend fathers in God, and lords, abbots, doctors of theology, professors of the holy scripture, and masters of the university, assisting us for the time, sitting in judg- ment, within our metropolitan church of St Andrews, in the cause of heretical pravity, against Mr Patrick Hamilton, abbot or pensionary of Ferme, being sum- moned to appear before us, to answer to j certain articles affirmed, taught, and preach- ed by him, and so appearing before us, and j accused, the merits of the cause being | ripely weighed, discussed, and understood, ! by faithful inquisition made in Lent last passed: We have found the same Mr Hamilton many ways infamed with heresy, disputing, holding and maintaining divers heresies of Martin Luther and his followers, repugnant to our faith, and which is already condemned by general councils, and most famous universities. And he being under the same infamy, we discerning before him to be summoned and accused upon the premises, he of evil mind (as may be pre- sumed), passed to other parts, forth of the realm, suspected and noted of heresy. And being lately returned, not being admitted, but of his own head, without licence or privilege, hath presumed to preach wicked heresy. “ We have found also that he hath affirmed, published, and taught, divers opinions of Luther and wicked heretics, after that he was summoned to appear be- fore us and our council : That man hath no free-will : That man is in sin so long as he liveth : That children incontinent after their baptism, are sinners : All Christians that be worthy to be called Christians, do know that they are in grace : No man is justified by works but by faith only : Good works make not a good man, but a good man doth make good works : That faith, hope, and charity are so knit, that he that hath the one hath the rest, and he that wanteth one of them wanteth the rest, &c., with divers other heresies and detestable opinions ; and hath persisted so obstinate in the same, that by no counsel or persua- sion he may be drawn therefrom, to the way of our right faith. “ All these premises being considered, we having God and the integrity of our faith before our eyes, and following the counsel and advice of the professors of the holy scripture, men of law, and others assisting us for the time, do pronounce, determine, and declare, the said Mr Patrick Hamil- ton, for his affirming, confessing, and main- taining of the foresaid heresies, and his pertinacity (they being condemned already by church, general councils, and most famous universities), to be an heretic, and 30 SCOTS WORTHIES. to have an evil opinion of the faith, and therefore to be condemned and punished, likeas we condemn and define him to be punished by this our sentence definitive, depriving, and sentencing him to be depriv- ed of all dignities, honours, orders, offices, and benefices of the church ; and therefore do judge and pronounce him to be deliver- ed over to the secular power, to be punish- ed, and his goods to be confiscated. “ This our sentence definitive was given and read at our metropolitan church of St Andrews, the last day of the month of February, anno 1527, being present, the most reverend fathers in Christ, and lords, Gawand archbishop of Glasgow, George bishop of Dunkelden, John bishop of Brechin, William bishop of Dunblane, Patrick prior of St Andrew’s, David abbot of Aberbrothoc, George abbot of Dunferm- line, Alexander abbot of Cambuskenneth, Henry abbot of Lenders, John prior of Pittenweeme, the dean and subdean of Glasgow, Mr Hugh Spence, Thomas Ram- say, Allan Meldrum, &c., in the presence of the clergy and the people.” Such was the solemn mockery, by the Romish clergy, of all law, justice, and re- ligion, in drawing out their “ sentence defi- nitive” against the martyr. The sentence was originally in Latin, as all such docu- ments are, connected with the church ; and they foolishly imagined, by the parade and show of equity, that they would convince the people of the danger of heresy, and confirm their attachment to the holy church infallible. Beaton, however, soon got more work to perform than what he at first anti- cipated ; yet let us not contemplate this impiety, but rather turn to the closing scene of this noble martyr’s life, and briefly witness the constancy of him, whom a modern historian has justly characterized as having received “ the eternal honour of being the proto-martyr in Scotland, for the freedom of the human mind.” Hamilton heard his sentence with all the meekness and resignation of a Christian j his judges, and had defended his opinions j with firmness, though with modesty : now j he anticipated the result, and he prepared himself for death. On the same day that this sentence was pronounced by the ecclesiastical court, he was also condemned by the secular power ; and the clergy, afraid that some sudden intercession would be made for his life, determined to hurry him to the stake that very afternoon. During the interval he was visited by Alexander Aless, canon of the metropolitan church of St Andrews, who again tried to reclaim him to the bosom of the catholic church, but in vain. Aless was himself staggered by the martyr’s arguments. He had studied the Lutheran controversy, and, being well instructed in scholastic theology, held several conferences with Hamilton, to induce him to recant. These confer- ences ended in the conversion of Aless ; and the constancy with which he beheld Hamilton adhere to his opinions at the stake, strengthened his resolutions. Aless some time after delivered a Latin discourse to the synod, which brought him under suspicion of heresy. He was thrown into prison; but after a few years’ confinement he made his escape, and, embarking in a vessel on the coast, eluded the vigilance of j his pursuers. Aless went to Germany, and in 1535 came over to England, re- ! commended to Cranmer by Melancthon. j He returned to Germany in 1540, and j was made professor of divinity in the Uni- versity of Leipsic. PATRICK HAMILTON. 31 TESTIMONY PATRICK HAMILTON. After having a conversation with Aless, Hamilton was speedily hurried to the stake, the combustibles being prepared before the old college. He walked out with fortitude, evincing at once to his ungodly persecutors the faith of a Christian, and the patience of a martyr. Having approached the place of martyrdom, where a great concourse of spectators had assem- bled, he put off his clothes, and gave them to the faithful domestic who had long attended him. “ This stuff,” said he, “ will not help me in the fire, yet will do thee some good. I have no more to leave thee but the example of my death, which I pray thee keep in mind ; for albeit the same be j bitter and painful in man’s judgment, yet it is the entrance to everlasting life, which none can inherit who deny Christ before this wicked generation.” The martyr then raised his eyes toward heaven in holy devotion, and commended himself in prayer to the God of all conso- lation. The executioners speedily bound him to the stake, amid timber, coals, and other combustibles, and the match was laid to the train of powder, by which it was to be lighted It did not succeed, and the explosion scorched only his face and hands. While his murderers were bringing more powder, he remained in this painful situa- tion, addressing the spectators, and beseech- ing them to look to their own salvation. During this time he was repeatedly inter- rupted by Campbell, the prior of the Black Friars, who called upon him “ to recant, pray to our lady, and say, Salve Regina .” This indecent disturbance being often re- peated by the priest, a disturbance so much the more violent, as it was imbittering the last moments of a man who needed other consolations, Hamilton turned towards him, and with an audible voice, said, “ Thou wicked man, thou knowest I am not a heretic, and that it is the truth of God for which I now suffer ; so much didst thou confess to me in private ; and therefore I appeal thee to answer for this thy hypocrisy before the judgment-seat of Christ.” The fanatical priest — for the martyr felt his in- dignation arise at the thoughts of his having betrayed him — retired abashed and confounded, amid the wondering friars ; and the fact that he died in a year after- wards of a distemper which excited a frenzy, during which, haunted by remorse for his baseness towards Hamilton, he fre- quently called out his name, served to confirm the populace in their belief that the martyr had uttered a prophetic tes- timony. By this time, however, the train was again prepared, and the fire kindled. Hamilton was speedily enveloped in smoke and flames. The noble martyr stretched out his hands to heaven, and expired, like another Stephen, with these his last words : “ How long, O Lord, shall darkness cover this realm ! How long wilt thou suffer this tyranny of men ! Lord Jesus, receive my spirit !” Thus died Patrick Hamilton, on the last day of February, 1528, in the twenty- ; fourth year of his age. “ On his trial,” says Dr M‘Crie, “ he defended his opinions with firmness, yet with great modesty; and the mildness, patience, and fortitude which he displayed at the stake, equalled those of the first martyrs of Christianity.” “ The murder of Patrick Hamilton,” says Pink- erton, “ was afterwards avenged in the blood of Beaton’s nephew; and the flames in which the martyr expired, were, in the course of one generation, to enlighten all Scotland, and to consume with aveng- ing fury, the catholic superstition, the papal power, and the prelacy itself.” SCOTS WORTHIES. 32 It is not to be expected that there can be much of interesting narrative in the life of one who died so young. Incidents ! of youth are seldom thought worthy of re- ! cord by the historian, and the martyr was cut off when men are generally entering on the theatre of active life. But the name | of this noble witness deserves to be handed | down to the latest posterity, as being one j who possesses the eternal honour, gained | by few of his exalted rank, of being the I first to shed his blood for the glorious I truths of the Reformation. Patrick Hamilton left a valuable treatise j on the law and gospel. It was originally written in Latin, and was translated by I John Frith, and by him denominated Patrick's Places. It is to be found at | length in the acts and monuments of the ] indefatigable Fox, and the Reformer John Knox has given an abstract of it in his j Historie of the Reformation. It extends to eight pages folio, black letter, including the various notes of Frith and Fox, and is | a curious specimen of the style of theologi- | cal writing of those days, being composed j in the syllogistic manner. We cannot how- i ever spare room for either a transcription j or an analysis of it. The effects of Hamilton’s death began ! early to appear. The mildness and patience | which he displayed, while surrounded by his bitter persecutors, made a powerful impression on the beholders. While his 1 murderers were everywhere loathed and j detested, save by their catholic brethren i abroad, “ there were many of the learned, as well as the common people, who beheld with deep interest the cruel death of a per- son of rank, and they could not refrain from admiring the heroism with wliich he en- dured it.” The result was as might have been expected. The public curiosity was excited ; an inquiry was instituted into the opinions for which he suffered, and this, in many cases, led to conviction. And though, struck with alarm, the clergy adopted the most vigorous proceedings to stop the pro- gress of heresy, it was in vain, The Re- formed doctrines spread rapidly, even in the precincts of the metropolis of sin, and many of the clergy themselves, besides the people, firmly believed that Hamilton died a martyr. We only mention one or two of them, as connected with the death of the martyr. “Gawin Logie,” says the biographer of Knox, “ was so successful in instilling the reformed doctrines into the minds of the students, that it became proverbial to say of one suspected of Lutheranism, that he had drunk deep of St Leonard’s well.” Being at last decided in his sentiments, and having drawn on himself the suspicions j of his superiors, he also found it necessary to flee in 1553. There is no historical notice of him after that period. Robert ! Logie, a kinsman, belonged to the abbey j of Cambuskenneth, of which he was a canon-regular, but having embraced the reformed doctrines, he also was compelled to leave his native country. He became a preacher in England. Alexander Seaton was confessor to James V., and the cause of his retreat into England is well known. He died in the year 1542, in the family of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, wlio retained him as his chaplain. — John Fife was j another eminent man. who had to consult t I I his safety by flight. He accompanied j Alexander Aless, of whom we have already | j spoken, in his flight from St Andrews | to Germany. He returned, however, to Scotland, and died minister of St ! Leonards, a short time after the Re- formation. Several others, who had also been led by the fate of Hamilton to an examination and disbelief of the popish doctrines, were compelled to leave their native land. Among these were John Macbee, better TROM A PAINTING BT HOLBEIN IN THE POSSESSION OE ARCHIBALD WISHART ESQ* EDINBURGH. Glasgow: Macgregor, Poison Sc Company: GEORGE WISHART. 33 known to the learned by the name of Ur Maccabeus , and one of the first translators of the Danish Bible, — John Mackbray, James Harrison, Robert Richardson, a canon regular of Cambuskenneth, and the celebrated George Buchanan. GEORGE WISHART. This illustrious martyr was of the house of Pitarrow, in the county of Mearns. He was born in the reign of James V., though the particular year is not certain, from the silence of contemporary writers as to his early history ; but as he might be nearly 30 years of age at the time of his martyr- dom, it is very probable he was born about 1514 or 1515. His family was ancient and respectable, his brother being laird of Pitarrow, an estate by no means insigni- ficant. Little is also known of Wishart’s youth. In the early part of his life he was sent to the university of Aberdeen, and there he completed a course of education in philo- sophy and belles lettres, such as was then taught. As was the custom of all the youths connected with families of any note in those days, Wishart was sent abroad by his parents, and travelled on the continent for some time, especially in France and Germany. This was previous to the year 1538. It does not appear that he ever resided at the university of St Andrews, or Knox, who studied there, would in all probability have mentioned it, considering their after intimacy ; but, not at first hav- ing any designs at all for the church, Wishart acquired the rudiments of his education in some private seminary in Scotland; next at Aberdeen, and then he proceeded to the Continent, where he con- tinued his studies. There, as is most likely also, from the spread of the Reformation, especially in Germany, he imbibed those doctrines from some of the reformers them- selves which he afterwards sealed with his blood. The first public notice which we have of Wishart, is one of considerable interest, as connected with the history of learning in Scotland. In those days literature was in a miserable state, all the learning being con- fined to the scholastic jargon of the schools, from which even those who despised it could never afterwards wholly free themselves. The knowledge of the languages was limit- ed indeed. Latin was the only language studied — a language which was generally worse understood by the priests, who should have understood it best, than by the laity; Greek was almost wholly unknown ; for it is only in the year 1522 that Hector Boetius mentions George Dundas as a good Greek scholar, which language he had most pro- bably acquired in France ; but that writer makes no mention of this language as a branch of education taught in the univer- sities in his time. In the year 1534, the E 34 SCOTS WORTHIES. celebrated John Erskine of Dun, a man to whom the Reformation was subsequently much indebted, brought a learned man from France to teach Greek in Montrose, which is honoured as being the first town in Scotland in which encouragement was given to this elegant and beautiful language. As Erskine was provost of the town of Montrose, he of course had much in his power, independent of the frowns of the priests, who liked not this encouragement to literature. At the school of this French scholar, Wishart obtained the knowledge of the Greek language, and afterwards succeed- ed his master as teacher there. But the course of study which Wishart prescribed, drew upon him the resentment of his superiors in the church. The bishop of Brechin, William Chisholm, hearing that Wishart taught the Greek New Testament to his scholars, summoned him to appear before him on a charge of heresy, upon which he consulted his safety by flight, and retreated into England, in the year 1538. Wishart, thus driven by prelatical ty- ranny from his native country, betook him- self to the university of Cambridge, at that time of great celebrity, from the lectures of reformed divines who resided there, and entered himself a student of Bene’t or Corpus Christi college, in that university. Here he resided for six years, leading a life of the most unexampled study and devotion. He was out of the jurisdiction and power of his enemy the bishop of Brechin ; and here he made those truths his more parti- cular study, which he afterwards preached with such effect to his countrymen. The following graphic description of him during his residence at the university of Cambridge, is given by Emery Tylney, one of his scholars: — “ About the yeare of our Lord a tliou- ; sand, five hundreth, fortie and three, there | w r as in the universitie of Cambridge, one Maister George Wiscliart, commonly call- ed Maister George of Bennet’s colledge, who was a man of tall stature, polde head- ; ed, and on the same a round French cap, of the best ; judged to be of melancholye complexion by his physiognomie ; blacke haired, long-bearded, comely of personage, well-spoken of after his countrey of Scot- land, courteous, lowly, glad to teach, desirous to learn, and was well trauelled, hauing on him, for his habit or clothing, neuer but a mantell or frize gown to the shoes, a hlacke Millian fustain dublet, and plain blacke ho- sen ; coarse new canvasse for his shirtes, and white falling bandes and cuffes at the hands. All the which apparell he gaue to the poor, some weekly, some monethly, some quarterlie, as he liked, sauing his French cap, which he kept the whole yeare of my beeing with him. “ Hee was a man modest, temperate, fearing God, hating couetousness : for his charitie had neuer ende, night, noone, nor daye ; he forbare one meale in three, one day in foure for the most part, except something to comfort nature. Hee lay hard upon a pouffe of straw ; coarse new \ canuasse sheetes, which, when he changed, he gaue away. He had commonly by his bedside a tubbe of water, in the which (his people being in bed, the candle put out, and all quiet,) hee used to bathe himselfe ; as I being very young, being assured offten heard him, and in one fight night discerned him. He loued mee tenderlie, and I him, for my age, as effectuallie. He taught with great modestie and grauitie, so that some of his people thought him seuere, and would haue slaine him, but the Lord was his defence. And hee, after due correction for their malice, by good exhortation amended them, and he went his way. 0 that the Lord had left him to me his poore boy, that hee might haue finished that he had begunne ! For in his religion he was, as you see heere in the rest of his fife, when he went into Scotland with diuers of GEORGE WISHART. 35 the nobilitie, that came for a treatie to king Henry the Eight. His learning was no less sufficient then his desire, always prest and readie to do good, in that he was able, both in the house priuately, and in the schoole publikely, professing and reading divers authours. “ If I should declare his loue to me and all men, his charitie to the poore, in gluing, relieuing, caring, helping, prouiding, yea, infinitely studying how to do good unto all, and hurt to none, I should sooner want words than just cause to commend him. “ All this I testifie with my whole heart and trueth of this godly man. He that made all, gouerneth all, and shall iudge all, knowetli I speake the troth, that the simple may be satisfied, the arrogant confounded, the hypocrite disclosed. “ Emery Tylney.” In the year 1544, Wishart felt a desire to return to his native country, that he might preach those truths which had glad- dened his own heart to his fellow-country- men. And when Wishart “ went into Scotland,” as his pupil Tylney expresses it, “ with diuers of the Nobilitie that came for a treatie to king Henry the Eight it was at the earnest invitation of some of these, who were the principal nobility. These “ Nobilitie” were commissioners who had been sent to negotiate a treaty with the English monarch, on the following account: — It will be recollected, that, through the cardinal’s influence, Henry’s favourite scheme of uniting the two king- doms, by a marriage with his son Edward and the infant princess Mary of Scotland, had been abandoned, and that Henry, in high wrath, proclaimed war against the Scots. The Scots, however, were in no condition at that time to take the field I against Henry, then the most powerful j monarch in Europe ; and the disaster of | Solway, which took place only two years [ before, had made them much more cautious respecting the mustering of their army. Peace was the only alternative, and com- missioners were accordingly despatched to the English monarch, to conclude a treaty between the two kingdoms. In the com- pany, therefore, of these, Wishart returned, and established himself first in Montrose, where he commenced his ministry. From Montrose he proceeded to Dundee, where his discourses excited the highest admi- ration. It is singular that he should have chosen a town for the commencement of his mi- nistry so near the abode of the cardinal, — St Andrews being only about nine miles from that town. It would seem to argue, either that he was only in part instructed in the cardinal’s character, or that he was determined to make known the truth, even | so near the abode of archiepiseopal tyranny. ! It is probable, however, that Wishart found an assembly of protestants in Dundee, to : whom he hoped his ministry would prove peculiarly acceptable, and these again would be encouragements for him to commence j his ministry among them, especially as they would appear to him a people thirsting for the word of life. While Wishart remained in Dundee, he began to give public lectures on the Epistle ! to the Romans, by which he acquired great fame. In the unsettled state of the public mind, when men were literally in a strait between two opinions, whether to adhere to the faith of their fathers, or to give full cre- dence to the doctrines of the Reformation, when, in fact, the regard for the established religion was completely set at nought, and men’s eyes were gradually opening, to show them that they had been the dupes of su- perstition and credulity, the efforts made by such a preacher as Wishart to overthrow the catholic church must have been for- midable. The cardinal, whose vigilance was unremitting, soon got notice of this new opponent, and forthwith he kept his I SCOTS WORTHIES. 36 e} r e upon him as his sworn adversary. He beheld, with deep regret, a total overthrow of all his plans by the preaching of Wishart; and the rapid and extensive desertion which he caused from the established church raised in him the utmost anxiety to arrest Wishart’s exertions. Compared with this new enemy, all the other reformers were as nothing in the hands of the cardinal ; but now he had to grapple with a master mind — with a man whose fervour, uprightness, and gentleness, had rendered him greatly beloved. There cannot be the smallest doubt, but that the cardinal from the very first resolv- ed on Wishart’s death. Measures, however, were to be adopted in the mean time, to silence the reformer in Dundee; and accordingly, either by bribery or by terror, the cardinal prevailed with one of the magistrates of the town named Robert Mill, who had formerly been an adherent to the doctrines of the Reformation, and a considerable sufferer on that account, but who, having renoun- I ced these, was now a man of influence in the town, to serve Wishart with a prohibi- j tion, in the name of the queen and the go- vernor, to trouble them no more with his I ’ | preaching. This commission was executed | ! by Mill one day after Wishart had con- j eluded his usual sermon, and was received I by him with every expression of pious zeal | and resignation. On hearing the prohibi- I ! tion read against him, the reformer kept | ! silence for a little time, with his eyes turn- I I ed towards heaven ; then looking stead- j fastly on the speaker, with a sorrowful countenance, he said, “ God is my witness, that I ever mind your comfort, and not your trouble, which to me is more grievous than to yourselves ; but sure I am, that to j i reject the word of God, and to drive away , his messengers, is not the way to save you I from trouble. When I am gone, God will send you messengers, who will not be afraid either for burning or banishment. I have, with the hazard of my life, remained among you preaching the word of salvation, and now, since you yourselves refuse me, I must leave my innocency to be declared by God. If it be long well with you, I am not led by the Spirit of truth ; and, if trouble unex- pected fall upon you, remember this is the cause, and turn to God by repentance, for he is merciful.” Wishart determined to obey the injunc- tion, and in this he at once evinced, that he was not actuated by that rash zeal which willingly courts danger for its own sake. After giving this short address, he came down from the preaching place, and resolved instantly to leave Dundee. The earl marischall, and some other noblemen, who were present at the sermon, earnestly pressed him to go to the north with them, but he resisted their importunities, and went to the western parts of Scotland. The town of Ayr was the first place where he again commenced his public ministrations. . Here his reputation and diligence made him to be gladly received by many, and soon procured for him nu- merous followers. The great freedom and faithfulness with which he preached the gospel in this quarter, also directed against him the inveteracy of the church, and the archbishop of Glasgow resolved to appre- hend him. Dunbar, at this time, was arch- bishop of that see, in whose diocese Ayr was situated, — a man -who was not possessed of that furious zeal for persecution which characterized the cardinal. Beaton and he, in fact, had long looked on each other with evil eyes ; for when, in the year 1543, a legate from the pope arrived in Scotland, and spent the winter in that country, during the residence of this functionary, the pride of the cardinal was excessively wounded before him, by the pretensions of the arch- bishop of Glasgow. The cardinal having attended the legate in his visit to that city, GEORGE WISHART. claimed, as primate of all Scotland, pre- cedence of the archbishop, to which, in his own cathedral, that prelate would not sub- mit. Upon this, a dispute arose, each asserting in very formal terms the priority of erection of his respective see ; and, in the eagerness of both to maintain their dignity before the legate, a struggle took place between them, and the large cross, carried before the primate, was thrown to the ground. The dispute ran so high, that the regent was compelled to interfere, and to restore unanimity between men, who, professing to be the ministers of a religion of peace, had so indecently interrupted all good order, dignity, and worship. The archbishop, who, although certainly not a violent persecutor, was nevertheless zealous enough for the church, at the in- stigation of the cardinal, with whom he now preserved an appearance of friendship, hastened to Ayr with a number of attend- ants. He took possession of the pulpit, with a view to hinder Wishart from preach- ing: on the report of which, the earl of I Glencairn, and some other gentlemen of the neighbourhood, came quickly to the town, and offered to put Wishart by force into the pulpit, should the archbishop prove unwilling to resign it. To this Wishart would by no means consent, and as the archbishop began to make a show of preach- ing, he calmly said, that the bishop’s sermon would not do much hurt, and that, if they pleased, he would go to the market-cross. He said this, because he disapproved of i whatever could be regarded as a violation | of peace ; “ and it was, indeed, his uniform practice,” says Dr Cook, “ to shun giving unnecessary offence ; and this moderation, while it increased the attachment of his adherents, perplexed and astonished those by whom he was opposed.” He accordingly repaired to the market-cross, and there preached with such success, that various ' persons were converted to the truth. Du- 37 ring the time in which Wishart was thus employed, the archbishop was haranguing his own followers and some few priests in the church. Having no sermon to give them, and, like his brethren, not being much accustomed to the employment, he told them he would be better provided with a sermon on some other occasion, and speedily thereafter left the town. After the archbishop’s departure, Wish- art continued with those who professed the reformed doctrines, protected by the power- ful, and constantly preaching the truths of the gospel. On the sabbath following, he was desired to preach in the church of Mauchline ; but the sheriff of Ayr, during the night, had anticipated him by placing a guard of soldiers in the church. Hugh Campbell of Kinzeancleugh, a man of considerable influence in the parish, with others, being offended at this proceeding, would have entered the church by force, but Wishart again displayed his accustomed moderation and forbearance. “ It is the word of peace,” said he, “ which I preach unto you, and the blood of no man shall be shed for it this day. Christ is as mighty in the fields as in the church, and he him- self, when he lived in the flesh, preached oftener in the desert and upon the sea-side, than in the temple of Jerusalem.” With these words he appeased the multitude, and | withdrawing to a muir on the south-west i of the parish, he there preached for almost j three hours to a vast multitude of attentive ! hearers ; in which sermon was that good seed sowm, which afterwards brought forth much fruit to the glory of divine grace. While Wishart was thus employed in the neighbourhood of Ayr, instant in season and out of season, and teaching daily with success, he received intelligence, that a con- tagious distemper raged with great violence in Dundee, and was daily proving fatal to vast numbers. His old affection towards that town now revived, and he accordingly | SCOTS WORTHIES. 38 proceeded thither, after a month’s stay in Ayr, notwithstanding the urgent entreaties of many that he should remain. His rea- sons were, “ they are now in trouble, and they need comfort. Perchance this visita- tion of God will make them now to magnify and reverence that word which before, for the fear of man, they set at light price.” The humanity which Wishart on this occasion displayed is highly honourable to his character. He could not altogether acquit the inhabitants of Dundee of ingra- titude, in forcing him, only a month pre- vious, to depart from their town, even although his residence among them had been at the hourly risk of his life. But the religion of love operated too powerfully on the heart of this eminent man ; and he felt every latent tie to revive, which bound him in the affections of that people. Plaving arrived at Dundee, he found that the reports as to the malignity of the distemper had come far short of the truth, and his benevolent soul was grieved to be- hold the ravages made by death. “ The joy of the faithful,” says Knox, “ was exceeding great when he gave signification that he j j would preach on the morrow.” He chose | the head of the street called the East Port [East Tort and Wishart Church, Dundee ] in Dundee, for his preaching station ; to the intent that, while those who were in health might remain within, those who were infected with disease should take their station without, the port or gate.* The whole conduct, in truth, of Wishart, while at this time in Dundee, was such as entitles his memory to be held in everlasting re- membrance. During all this time, his sworn adversary the cardinal had his eye close upon him, and, like the indefatigable animal of the ! forest, urged on by devouring hunger, j watched every opportunity to seize him. He suborned many to vilify this holy man, and to act openly as his avowed foes. His enemies, however, afraid of having recourse to open violence, attempted, while * he remained in Dundee, to assassinate him. A priest, named Sir John Wightman , 1 either from his own private hatred and bigotry, or, as has been supposed, though | without sufficient evidence, stimulated by the cardinal, resolved on his destruction. To effect his purpose, the priest stationed j himself at the foot of the pulpit steps, with 1 * The East or Cowgate Port, with the ex- ception of a small portion at the old burying j ground, is the only remnant of the wall that de- j fended this ancient town.. This Port ha9 been religiously preserved, out of respect to Wishart for! his affectionate attention to the inhabitants during* the dreadful plague in 1544. It was on the arch- 1 way of this Port he took his station ; where, placing j himself as it were between the living and the dead, he administered to the dejected inhabitants the i consolations of that blessed religion which alone imparts comfort in the deepest distress ; taking his j text from Psalm evii. 20, “ He sent his word andj healed them, and delivered them from their destruc- tion.” A congregation in connexion with the I United Secession Church, have lately built a very j handsome and substantial meeting-house, upon the I sight of the old church of St Roque. In honour | of the martyr, this edifice has been called Wishart Church. The identity of this spot has been con- firmed by the fact, that while digging the founda- tion, various ancient reliques, besides human skele- tons and detached bones,- were found. GEORGE WISHART. his gown loose, and a dagger concealed under it, in order that he might plunge it into Wishart’s breast, as he came down. The agitation of the priest’s countenance, or the singularity of his appearance, luckily arrested Wishart’s attention, and raised his suspicions. Looking stedfastly on him when he approached, he demanded of him, What he intended to do ? and in an instant seized the hand which grasped the murder- [Wightman’s attempt to assassinate Wishart.] ous weapon. The priest, overcome by his intrepidity and presence of mind, instantly fell at his feet, and acknowledged his guilt. The enraged multitude would at once have sacrificed him as a punishment for his barbarous purpose ; but Wishart restrained their violence, and calmed their resentment. The Reformer now prepared himself to proceed to Edinburgh, that he might appear before a convocation of the clergy, and be publicly heard in defence of the doctrines he taught. To this he had willingly agreed, and as the time appointed for the conference was at hand, he resolved first to visit Montrose, and give a short exhortation 39 to the adherents of the Reformation in that town ; for he felt a presentiment that they would after that see his face no more. He accordingly journeyed thither, and imparted fresh courage to the professors of religion by his presence. He taught publicly among them, and administered to them the sacra- ment of the Supper, with great solemnity. This was the first time, and the first place, in which the Lord’s Supper was adminis- tered after the reformed manner.* While * Wishart while he was dispensing the sacra- ment at Montrose, received a letter pretended to be directed to him from his intimate friend the Laird of Kinnear, acquainting him that he had taken a sud- den illness, and requesting him to come to him with all diligence. Upon this he immediately set out on his journey, attended by some honest friends in Montrose, who out of affection, would accompany him part of the way. They had not proceeded far, when Wishart suddenly stopped, saying to his com- ; panions : “ I am forbidden by God to go this ! journey. Will some of you be pleased to ride yon- | der (pointing to some particular place) and see what you find, for I apprehend there is a plot against my life.” He returned instantly to the town, and those who went forward found an ambuscade of j about sixty horsemen, lying in readiness to seize him. This at once exposed the whole affair ; they j found the letter to be counterfeit, and upon their j informing Wishart of the circumstance, he replied, | “ I know that I shall end my life by the hands of that wicked man, the cardinal, but it shall not be after this manner.” Another circumstance is connected with the Re- former’s journey to Edinburgh, to meet his friends from the west. The first night after he left Mon- trose, he lodged at Invergowrie, a place about four | miles from Dundee, with one of his friends named j James Watson. About midnight he was observed | to rise from his bed, and to go out into an adjoin- ing garden, where he gave vent to his sighs and groans/ thinking he was unnoticed. Two men, however, belonging to the house had followed him at a distance, and observed him to prostrate himself on the ground, weeping and supplicating, and then return to his apartments. As they lay in the same apartment with him, they took care to come back before him ; and upon his entering into the room, they, as if ignorant of all that had passed, asked him where he had been? But he made no answer. In the morning they asked him again why he rose in the night, and what was the cause of his sorrow. here, Wishart received a letter from the friends of the reformation in Ayrshire, de- siring him to meet them at Edinburgh in the month of December. They promised to him, according to agreement, that they would demand the bishops to grant him a conference on the matters of religion ; assured him that he would be heard ; and that he might dread no danger, as they would answer for his protection. These things gladdened the heart of Wishart, as he had now the prospect of a favourable opportunity of promoting the great designs he had in view by his return to Scotland. But Erskine of Dun. who well understood the political aspect of the times, the power of Cardinal Beaton, and the inconstant temper of the Regent, ear- nestly dissuaded him from his proposed journey. Wishart, however, could not be withheld. In the midst of winter, he tra- velled with a few attendants to Invergow- rie, thence to Perth, and, after proceeding through Fife, he arrived at Leith early in the month of December 1545. There he had the mortification to learn, that his friends from the west of Scotland had not yet arrived, nor was there any notice of their being on their way. But the cardi- nal, ever vigilant, was aware of their inten- and they told him all that they had seen him do. He answered with a dejected countenance, “ I wish you had been in your beds, and it had been more profitable for you, for I was scarcely well occupied.” But they praying him to satisfy their minds farther, and to give them some comfort, he said, “ I will tell you ; I assuredly know my travail is nigh an end, therefore pray to God for me that I may not shrink when the battle waxes hottest.” It would appear from these two facts in Wishart’s life, that he pos- sessed the spirit of prophecy. This has been af- firmed of other distinguished Reformers. It is ob- jected that its possession is inconsistent with the perfection of the revelation of the holy scriptures, and that superstition and sagacious foresight will account for all the prophecies attributed to the Worthies. We would refrain from expressing an opinion on this subject frankly confessing our inability. tions, and had taken most effectual means to deter them. On Wishart’s arrival in Leith, as we have already said, he found that his friends from the west had not arrived, nor was there any appearance of their coming to ; Edinburgh. This was the contrivance of j the cardinal, who, ever active and vigilant, | had thrown various obstacles in their way. Beaton well knew that he could not resist the call which would be made for a free conference, and, as he dreaded the result, he determined to disappoint the proposed meeting. This he did by various methods, as he was then actually at the helm of power, by counterfeit letters, by threats, and by employing secret influence. Wishart kept himself in retirement at Leith for a few days. He began now to feel all the bitterness of hope deferred, his friends had disappointed him, and the great objects which lay nearest his heart had every appearance of being overthrown. Day after day he passed in sorrow and heaviness, especially as he saw that no man I around him cared for his own soul. His friends observed his dejection, and offered him their consolations ; but to them he re- plied, “ I have laboured to bring people out of tlarkness, but now I lurk as a man ashamed to shew himself before men.” They soon perceived his desire was to preach to them salvation ; upon which they told him that they would gladly hear him, but that the j danger he would run was so great, that they I could not advise him. To this he replied, i “ If you and others will hear me next sab- I bath-day, I shall preach in Leith ; and let God provide for me as he best pleaseth.” j He accordingly, on the following sabbath, discoursed to his audience in Leith, from the 13tli chapter of Matthew, taking for his subject the admirable parable of the sower. At this time the celebrated John Knox was preceptor in the family of Langniddry, in East Lothian. This illustrious man, GEORGE WISHART. 41 I to whom posterity is so much indebted, and j who was afterwards destined to complete the Reformation in Scotland, had by this time abjured the Romish church. He had received ordination, immediately after com- pleting his education at St Andrews, even before the age appointed by the canons, but he had never publicly preached, having con- tented himself with merely expounding the scriptures, in the family of Douglas of Langniddry, a secret friend to the Reforma- tion. Whether Knox was acquainted with Wishart, before his retreat into England, or whether he was attracted by his great fame to Leith, does not appear, as Knox is completely silent on Wishart’s early history. Be that as it may, Knox was no sooner in- formed that he was in Leith, than he hastened thither from Langniddry, disre- garding every danger to which he might be subjected by such a step. The future reformer resolved not to leave Wishart during the time he should remain in the Lothians, in order that he might, with the greater freedom, enjoy his valuable instruc- tions. Knox was among Wishart’s auditors that day he preached in Leith, as were also various gentlemen of repute in East Lo- thian, “ who were then earnest professors of Christ Jesus.” It would appear also, that the Lairds of Langniddry, Ormiston, and Brunston, were present among the rest. After the sermon, a consultation was held by the gentlemen present, who all agreed that it would be advisable for Wishart to depart from Leith, especially as the regent and the cardinal were to be in Edinburgh at the approaching Christ- mas. With this advice Wishart deemed it prudent to comply, and his friends agreed to take him with themselves, and to give him safe lodging at Brunston, Ormiston, and Langniddry. Knox heard this resolution with great joy, for he had now found that he could not be separated from him. While Knox attended Wishart, he was instructed by him in the Greek language, — a study which I was at that time almost unknown in Scot- land. He likewise performed an office of j considerable notoriety. From the time that the attempt had been made to assassi- nate Wishart in Dundee, a sword had been always carried before his person by one of his attendants, for his defence. This office was at this time fulfilled by Knox, and none more faithful could have been chosen, On Sabbath, December 17th, 1545, Wishart and his friends were at Inveresk, near Musselburgh, where he preached twice to a great assembly, Among his hearers was Sir George Douglas, who, at the close of the sermon, publicly said, “ I know that my lord-governor and my lord-cardinal will hear that I have been at this preaching [for they were both by this time in Edin- burgh,] but say unto them that I will avow it, and will not only maintain the doctrine which I have heard, but also the person of the preacher, to the uttermost of my power.” These words greatly rejoiced the people, and pleased the friends of Wishart.* Du- ring the sermon, two grey friars made their appearance among the auditors. They were easily distinguished by their dress ; and, as soon as Wishart perceived them, he exclaimed to the people who stood near, “ I heartily pray you to make room for these two men ; it may be that they come to learn.” Then, addressing himself to them, “ for,” says Knox, who was present, “ they stood at the very entrance of the door,” — “ Come near, for I assure you, ye shall hear the words of verity, which shall either this very day seal in you your salva- tion or condemnation.” But the friars showed no disposition for instruction. Wishart proceeded, however, in his dis- course, supposing them to be listening at- * Unfortunately, however. Sir George Douglas did not fulfil this public profession in after life. F 42 SCOTS WORTHIES. tentively ; but seeing that tlieir object was to disturb the solemnity of the service, and to distract the attention of the audience, he turned to them, and with a solemn counte- nance, said, “ 0 ye servants of Satan, and deceivers of the souls of men, will ye nei- ther hear God’s truth, nor suffer others to hear it ? Depart, and take this for your portion, God shall shortly confound and disclose your hypocrisy within this realm ! Ye shall be abominable unto men, and your places and habitations shall be deso- late.” Abashed and confounded, the friars retreated, afraid to confront this minister of the New Testament. They stole from the sendee like guilty criminals ; while Wishart turned to the audience, and said, “ Those wicked men have provoked the Spirit of God to anger.” He kept silence for some time, as if occupied in internal prayer. The audience stood deeply affect- ed before him. He then resumed his dis- course, and towards the end comforted them greatly with the assurances of God’s grace. Next day, the reformer proceeded to Langniddry, in company with his friends. The two following Sabbaths he preached at Tranent, and gave distinct intimation, that the impression was on his mind, that his ministry was near a close. “ In all his sermons,” says Knox, who was at this time his constant auditor, “ after his departure from Angus, he forespake of the shortnesse of time he had to travail, and of his ap- proaching death, the day whereof was nearer, he said, than any would believe.” At the end of the Christmas holidays, we find him with his friends at Haddington. < Here, by the consent of his friends, as it 1 was a town, even in those days, of consider- able note, he preached to a very numerous audience. On the following day, how- ever, few attended, through the influence, it was supposed, of the earl of Both- well, who was the most powerful man 1 in the country, and who had been secretly corrupted by the cardinal. At this time, too, he received notice from his friends in , Ayrshire, stating that they could not hold the appointed conference. This, with the ! circumstances attending his preaching at Haddington, almost overwhelmed him with despondency. His devotedness to the truth is here remarkably conspicuous ; as long as he saw men eager to be instructed, he re- joiced and counted on no labour ; but as his whole soul was engaged in the cause of the Reformation, he now felt himself 1 grieved unto death. As it was at the re- quest of his friends in Ayrshire that he had hazarded his life by coming to the Lotliians, where he had not a sufficient number of friends to oppose his enemies, all the hopes which he had long entertained of seeing the Reformation furthered were now blast- ed, and he already felt himself like one deserted, and in the power of the cardinal, his implacable foe. He conferred with Knox, “ who had carefully waited upon him from the time he came to Lothian,” to whom he read the letter, and said, that he was now weary of life, for he perceived that men began to be weary of God. Du- ring this time, he was residing with Sir Richard Maitland, at Lethington, who, though not a professed protestant, received ; and entertained him with hospitality. To Maitland he also read his letter in the deepest despondency ; and though he was just on the point of ascending the pulpit, he could not conceal his grief. Knox, de- siring to recall his ideas, remarked to him that it was not his custom to consider these j things before preaching. “ True,” replied : Wishart, “the time for sermon approacheth; I will leave you for the present to your meditation.” It is extremely difficult to account for the conduct of Wishart’s friends on this occasion. His own expressions would seem j to indicate an apostasy on their part, and it is certain that they expressed little con- 1 GEORGE WISHART. 43 cern for his disappointment, or for the danger into which they had brought him. Whether the earl of Glencairn, who after- wards acted a most conspicuous part in the history of the Reformation, and who was among the first of the nobility who re- nounced popery, was of the number, does not appear ; but there is every reason to conclude, that, from his openly encouraging and protecting Wishart while in Ayr, if he was not to act personally, at least the party was to set out under his cognizance. What- ever were the causes which detained them, — whether the designs of the cardinal, or the state of the weather, still their conduct is highly censurable, on account of their being the instruments by whose advice Wishart brought his life into hazard. Had they not expressed themselves with callous- ness, Wishart would never have asserted, that “ he was weary of life, since men were weary of God,” for he was possessed of a nature by far too generous, and he had too much of Christian charity, to condemn rashly, when there was any reasonable excuse. He seems, in fact, to have con- sidered their conduct as highly reprehen- sible, and as an act of great injustice done to himself. These feelings operated on him more peculiarly, as he was just preparing to enter the pulpit in the church of Had- dington. As this was the last sermon our reformer ever preached, we shall he here minute in our detail, taking as our authority the graphic description of Knox, who was present on the occasion. Wishart went into the church, and walked to and fro before the high altar nearly an hour, his dejected countenance indicating the grief and sorrow of his mind. At last he as- cended the pulpit, but the audience was the smallest he had ever witnessed. He clearly saw that some secret influence had been employed to restrain the attendance of the people. He had purposed to expound to his audience the second table of the law, “ but thereof in that sermon he spoke very little.” Mortified and grieved by the appearance of such a total want of love for the gospel, despising that timidity which restrained men from hearing the word of life, all his enthusiasm burst forth, and he felt himself, as it were, transported by his piety beyond the bounds even of charitable allowances. He reasoned from his own consciousness ; and knowing the hazard to which he had exposed himself by preaching , he thought it indeed a most grievous dereliction, when men refused the least dangerous part, namely, to hear , the holy gospel. Nor was he wrong in his conclusion. The true way of knowing the sincerity of any man’s religious profession, is by observing his conduct in the hour ol danger and persecution ; and he who shrinks cowardly from witnessing a good confession, subjects himself to a charge ol being one who has never in any degree felt the influence of religion. To be pious only in the day of prosperity, when the world smiles fair on every outward prospect, but afterwards to conform to the world in adversity, when by so doing persecution is avoided, or our own purposes served, is like a hypocrite who covers himself with a mask to further his intentions, but who throws it off whenever his guilty purposes are accomplished. Of what avail is pro- fession at all, unless it be accompanied by a corresponding practice ? and of what avail is it to pretend to have a concern for the servants of God — the ministers of truth, unless it be accompanied by a reso- lution to stand by them both in prosperity and adversity? We must say, that the conduct of Wishart's friends in the west, and that of his hearers at Haddington at this juncture, was not that conduct which they had previously professed. And it must have been peculiarly discouraging to that good man, to behold such a lamenta- SCOTS WORTHIES. 44 ble decay of religious zeal, when his whole soul was occupied by love to God, and concern for the immortal interests of his countrymen. Wishart thus felt keenly the unpropitious prospects before him, and in the pulpit he gave utterance to his feelings. “ O Lord,” he cried in the beginning of his discourse, “ how long shall it be that thy holy word shall be despised, and men shall not regard their own salvation ? I have heard of thee, Haddington, that in thee would have been at any vain play two or three thousand people,* and now, to hear the messenger of the eternal God, of all the town and parish, cannot be numbered one hundred persons. Sore and fearful shall the plagues be that shall ensue, because of this thy contempt. With fire and sword shalt thou be plagued. Yea, thou Haddington in special, strangers shall possess thee ; and you, the present inhabitants, shall either in bondage serve your enemies, or else ye shall be chased from your own habitations ; and that because ye have not known, nor will not now know, the time of God’s mer- ciful visitation.” “ In such vehemency and threatening,” says Knox,t “ continued that servant of God, near an hour and a half ; in the which he declared all the plagues that ensued, as plainly as after our eyes saw them performed .” Towards the end of his discourse, however, his characteristic meekness, magnanimity, and benevolence returned, and he said, “ I have forgotten myself, and the matter I should have treated of; but let these my last words concerning public preaching remain in your minds, till God send you new comfort.” He then proceeded to make a few remarks on the second table of the law; and, as if impressed with the conviction that his end .was at hand, he took farewell of his audi- * Plays were wont to be acted here on an open grassy plain. f Historie, page 53. ence, as one whose face they should see no more in the flesh. The sermon at Haddington was the last which Wishart preached. He spoke of j his own end as certain, for he saw that the j cardinal had so ensnared him as to make j escape impossible. His friends werer* deeply grieved, and in the afternoon of that very day he took a last farewell of them all with great affection and solemnity, espe- cially of Douglas of Langniddry, who was under the necessity of returning home that night, chiefly on Knox’s account, whom he wished to be out of the way of danger, as he was well aware of the whole proceedings of the cardinal with the earl of Bothwell, since the former had arrived in Edinburgh. Knox could hardly be prevailed upon to separate from his revered instructor, for whom he now felt the most filial affection. As Wishart was to leave Haddington for the house or castle of Ormiston, Knox en- treated that he might be permitted to ac- company him, but to this Wishart would by no means consent. He affectionately embraced him, but advised him to depart, as he knew that Knox had brought himself under the notice of the cardinal, by his at- tachment to him. “ Return to your bairnes ,” said the martyr mildly, meaning his pupils, “and God blesse zou. Ane is sufficient for a sacrifice at this time.” The Reformer then commanded that the two-handed sword, which Knox had been accustomed to carry, should be taken from him. Knox complied with his request, and, overwhelmed with sorrow, returned to Langniddry with the father of his pupils, Hugh Douglas. All that night, however, Wishart re- mained in Haddington, and in the morning he went on foot to Ormiston, in the midst of a severe storm, accompanied by Cock- burn, the owner of that place, Sandilands of Calder, and Crichton of Brunston. But now the time was come in which this martyr was to be delivered into the hands of his bitter persecutors. The plans of the cardinal had taken effect, and so resolved was he to apprehend Wishart, that he had secretly left Edinburgh, and on the same night in which Wishart went to Ormiston, the primate, unknown to the martyr or his friends, arrived at Elphingstone castle, a place about two miles distant from Or- miston. The cardinal had previously been with Arran, the regent of the kingdom, who was wholly under his control, and desired that he would send his own servants to seize Wishart, a request with which Arran very unwillingly complied. Wishart., in the mean while, his mind strongly impress- ed with the impending danger, displayed all that magnanimity and patience which true religion so effectually imparts. His behaviour was, as usual, devout, expressing an entire resignation to the will of God. After supper, he delivered to the inmates of Cockburn’s family a most consoling dis- course on the death of God’s children, at the end of which he pleasantly said, “ Me- thinkes I desire earnestlie to slepe ; let us sing a psalme.” He appointed the 51st* Psalm to be sung, which had been turned * The following is the psalm which Wishart sung in the castle of Ormiston on the night of his apprehension. It is the 51st, and the reader can compare it with the translation now adopted in the version authorized by the Scottish church. “ Miserere mei , Deus. Psal. li. “ Haue mercie on me, God of might, Of mercie Lord and King ; For thy mercie is set full right Aboue all eirdly thing. Therefore I cry baith day and night, And with my hert sail sing, To thy mercie with thee will I go. Haue mercie on me (O gude Lord) Efter thy greit mercie. My sinfull life does me remord, Quhilk sair has greuit thee : Bot thy greit grace hes mee restord, Throw grace, to libertie : To thy mercie with thee will I go.” into Scottish rhyme, and began thus, ! “ Haue mercy on me, God of might which being sung, he retired to his cham- ber, adding these words, “ And grant us quiet rest.” Alas ! he little knew that “ Et secundum multitudinem. “ Gude Lord, I knaw my wickednes, Contrair to thy command, Rebelland ay with cruelnes, And led me in ane band To Sathan, quha is merciles : Zit, Lord, heir me cryand, To thy mercie with thee will I go. Quliat king can tell the multitude, Lord, of thy greit mercie, Sen sinners hes thy celsitude Resisted cruellie. Zit na sinner will thou seclude, That this will cry to thee, To thy mercie with thee will I go.” “ Tibi soli peccavi. “ Only to thee I did offend, And mekill euill hes done, Throw quhilk appeirandly defence To me is nane abone : Thus men will judge thy just vengeance Hes put me from thy throne. Zit to thy mercie with thee will I go. Thoght thou, gude Lord, he judged thus, Full fals and wrangouslie, O God sa gude and gracious, Let their judging vincust be, And shaw thy mercie plenteous, Quhilk mot vs justifie. To thy mercie with thee will I go. Consauit into sin I am, My wickednes thoght thou behald, Quhilk I contracted of Adams Sinnand right manifald. My mother als did eik the same. And I to sin was said. To thy mercie with thee will I go. Bot zit the Lord omnipotent, My cairfull care did cure, At font when I was impotent, Fragill, vaine, vylde and pure Then helpit me that King potent, In my misaventure. To thy mercie with thee will I go.” “ Asperges me. “ With isope, Lord, thou sprinkle me, And then I sail be cleene, And cleerer then maid sail I be, Than euer snaw hes bene. Zit of my clenenes, thy mercie The rute is euer seene. To thy mercie with thee will I go. 46 SCOTS WORTHIES. the arch-enemy was at hand, and that, like and the cardinal to take Wishart prisoner. his great Master, he was almost on the Bothwell desired a conference with Cock- point of being betrayed into the hands of burn, the chief of Ormiston, whose friend those who had long thirsted for his blood. and guest Wishart was, and told him his At midnight, however, the trampling instructions. Cockburn at first refused to of horses was heard; the family were deliver him up, thinking, that by contriving thrown into confusion, as it was found that a delay, that Wishart would get time to the house was surrounded by armed men. escape ; but Bothwell, in virtue of his The party was commanded by the earl of authority as sheriff, declared to him that Bothwell, high sheriff of the county, who it was in vain for him to hold out his house, had been commissioned by the governor — that all resistance was useless, for the This isope is humilitie, But thou wilt nought sic auarice, Right law intill ascence ; For thow art wonder free, The snaw sa white in all degree, And giues vs thy benefites, Betakens innocence. Throw Christes hlude freely. For, and thir twa do gouerne me, To thy mercie with thee 'will I go. I sail do nane offence. Brint sacrifice is na delite To thy mercie with thee will I go.” Unto thy Majestie. Thou caris nocht of it ane mite, Ne projicias me. For sinne to satisfie ; For onlie Christ did make vs quite “ 0 gude Lord, cast me not away Of all enormitie. From thy perfyte presence, To thy mercie with thee will I go.” Sen that I grant my sinnes ay * * * * Hes done thee greit offence ; And I sail praise, baith night and day, “ Benigne fac Domine. Thy greit magnificence. To thy mercie with thee will I go. “ To Syon, Lord, hee gude againe, 4 . Efter thy godly will ; Take not from me thy godly Spreit And let thy louing there remaine, In my adversitie ; Thy promise to fulfill : For till my saull it is full sweit, For Mount Syon, with greit disdaine, When sinne besettes mee ; In thrall is hidder till. And thow sail make my saull full meit To thy mercie with thee will I go.” Unto thy Majestie. To thy mercie with thee will I go.” Jerusalem did get ane fall ; Her wallis were made full law : “ Redde mihi. For she miskeimed the God of all, And dayly brake his law : “ Giue me the blythnes and the blis But thow sail put her out of thrall, Of my sweit Sauiour ; When shee her God does knaw. For throw his bitter deid I mis To thy mercie with thee will I go.” Of hell the dintis dour, And in this mortall life, hee is “ Tunc acceptabis. My strang defence and tour. To thy mercie with thee will I go. “ Then sacrifice thow sail accept, Of truth and righteousnes, Confirme thy Spreit most principall Conforming to thy trew precept, Into mee, throw thy grace ; And to thy gentilnes : For sinne right lang held me in thrall, For no man then sail thou except And put me from thy face ; Into their neid and stres. Yet vnto thee, Lord, will I call To thy mercie with thee will I go. Into my hauie cace. To thy mercie with thee will I go.” Then calfes and brint sacrifice * * * * Thy alter sail repleit, Then greiter glore and benefice “ Quoniam si vohiisses. Thow sail make for vs meit ; Where, day and night, wee sail not ceise “ Gif thou had pleased sacrifice, Ay singand with sainctes sweit. I suld them offered thee ; To thy mercie with thee will I go.” GEORGE WISHART. governor and the cardinal, with a great force, were at hand, and that, indeed, the cardinal was then at Elphingstone, only two miles distant: but if he (Ormiston,) would deliver Wishart into his hands, he would promise on his honour that he would be safe, and that it would be out of the cardinal’s power to do him harm ; and to remove Cockburn’s honourable scruples, Bothwell solemnly pledged himself that he would answer for his safety. Cockburn, seeing that resistance was vain, went immediately to his guest, to whom he reported the whole proceedings. Wishart heard him with his usual calm- ness and fortitude, and mildly said, “ Open the gates : the will of God be done.” The earl entered the house, and Wishart being conducted into his presence, thus addressed him : “ My lord, I praise my God that 'so honourable a man as your lordship receives me this night, in the presence of these noblemen ; for I am assured, that, for your honour’s sake, you will suffer nothing to be done against me but by the order of the law. I am not ignorant that all their law is nothing else but corruption, that they may shed the blood of the saints ; but I fear less to die openly, than to be murdered in secret.” To this most affecting and interesting appeal, Bothwell answered, “ I shall not only preserve your body from violence, if any be purposed against you in violation of all law; but also I solemnly promise, in the presence of these gentlemen, upon my honour, that neither the governor nor the cardinal shall be able to harm you; but I shall retain you in mine own hand, and in mine own house, either till I set you at liberty, or restore you to the same place in which I have received you.” This solemn promise being given in the presence of various gentlemen, they said individually to Bothwell, “ My lord, if ye will do as ye have spoken, and as we think your lordship will do, then do we promise unto your 47 lordship, that not only we ourselves shall serve you all the days of our life, but also we shall procure the whole professors of the truth in Lothian to do the same. And upon either the preservation of this our brother, or upon his delivery again into our hands, we being reasonably advertised to receive him, that we, in the name and behalf of our friends, shall deliver to your lordship, or any sufficient man that shall deliver to us this servant of God again, our band of man-rent, in manner requisite.” Bothwell again solemnly pledged his hon- our, and Wishart being put into his hands, he departed with him to Elphingstone, where the cardinal then was. To Wishart, however, death seemed cer- tain, although he relied much on Both- well’s honour : for as he knew the cardinal’s utter worthlessness, he dreaded the idea of his taking private revenge. “ I fear less,” he says to Bothwell, “ to die openly, than to be murdered in secret.” The furious zeal of Beaton, in whatever concerned the stability of the church, would, Wishart | knew, in this case completely overcome all j the prudence and policy which, in secular , affairs, the cardinal had hitherto so com- pletely displayed. “ Instead of preserving Wishart,” says Dr Cook, “ and thus keep- ing the Protestants, from dread of accele- | rating the destruction of their beloved teacher, under restraint, he thirsted for his death, and hastened by every means an event, with which he little knew that the termination of his own career was so inti- mately connected. Bothwell, as we have already said, car- ried Wishart to Elphingstone castle, where the cardinal then was. But the rage of the cardinal, though he had now got his greatest enemy into his hands, did not stop here. He made inquiry concerning the persons who were at Ormiston in company with Wishart, and being informed that John Sandilands the younger, of the house SCOTS WORTHIES. 48 of Calder,* the Lord of Brunston, by name Crichton, and Cockburn of Ormiston, were all present, he immediately commanded that these should be apprehended. By this time his whole retinue had arrived at Elphingstone ; and they, with some of the regent’s soldiers, were sent to apprehend Wishart’s friends. The noise of horsemen was again that night heard by the servants at Ormiston, of which they gave immediate notice to their superiors. While they were consulting among themselves what now could be the motive of their visiters, the soldiers had seized that part of the building which Knox designates “ the outer and inner close.” They quickly called for Ormiston and Sandilands of Calder, who, on appear- ing, demanded the cause of their visit; and they received the answer, that it was to bring them, as also the Lord of Brunston, to the governor at Elphingstone. They soon perceived that their destruction was also intended, or, at any rate, that the cardi- nal would take his revenge on them in some way or other for the open countenance they had given to Wishart ; and therefore, con- triving a delay under the pretence of put- ting themselves in readiness to ride, Bruns- ton made his escape, by conveying himself secretly to the wood of Ormiston ; but the other two were apprehended, and carried before the cardinal. They were both com- mitted prisoners to Edinburgh castle, where Sandilands of Calder remained till he had * Now the noble family of Torphichen. The chiefs of Calder were long at the head of the famous order of the Knights Hospitallers in Scotland. They were early and steady friends to the Reformation. In the great hall of Calder- House, the illustrious Knox dispensed the holy eucharist, for the first time, it is said, after the reformed manner, in Scot- land, which, — however, is not the case, as we find that Wishart administered this ordinance at Mon- trose. A portrait of “ the reformer of a kingdom,” as Milton emphatically calls Knox, hangs in this hall with an appropriate inscription, — a hall so sa- cred for associations of civil and religious liberty. given satisfaction to the primate ; but his friend, the lord of Ormiston, “ freed him- self, by leaping off the wall of the castle, betwixt ten of the clock and eleven before noon.” Had Knox been found with them, he also would have been taken ; and, as he had already brought on himself the hatred of the cardinal, in all probability he would have suffered with his friend the martyr. Wishart was first conveyed from Elphing- stone to Edinburgh castle, and thence back again, to the house of Hailes, the earl of Bothwell’s principal residence in East Lothian. During this time the negotiation took place for the delivery of Wishart into the hands of the cardinal. “ As gold and women,” says Knox, “ have corrupted all worldly and fleshly men from the beginning, so did they Bothwell; for the cardinal gave gold, and that largely ; and the queen, with whom the said earl was then on bad terms (Knox writes glunders ), promised him favours in all his lawful suits to women, if he would deliver Wishart to be kept in the castle of Edinburgh. He made some re- sistance at first, by reason of his promise. But an effeminate man cannot long with- stand the assaults of a gracious queen, and so was the servant of God transported to Edinburgh.” Spottiswoode also says, the “queen-mother, at the cardinal’s desire, being earnest with the earl to have him (Wishart) sent again to the castle of Edin- ; burgh, albeit in regard to his promise, he refused a long time, yet overcome in the end by her entreaty , he yielded. And j thus Wishart a second time was taken to i the castle.” Wishart was not permitted to remain I long in Edinburgh. The cardinal was I then in that city, presiding in a convention I j of prelates, who had assembled for the purpose of redressing some abuses of the church, “ and reforming the fives of the clergy.” The deliberations of this assembly, however, like those of the one which met GEORGE WISHART. 40 i in 1549, never took effect. The cardinal, having now got Wishart completely into his power, speedily broke up the convention, and afraid of delay, proceeded in great haste with his prisoner to St Andrews, where he summoned a convocation of the prelates to assemble on the 27th day of February, 1546. Wishart, in the mean time, was committed a close prisoner to the castle of St Andrews. As the cardinal, from the very first, and long before he got Wishart into his power, had resolved on his death, it may easily be supposed that he knew what to do. We have already alluded to the dispute which took place between him and the archbishop of Glasgow, respecting the priority of their respective Sees before the pope’s legate ; and to the ludicrous and disgraceful scene which took place between them at Glasgow. The conduct of the archbishop of Glasgow had been most offensive to Beaton’s pride ; and, as might be expected, a deadly animo- sity subsisted between the two prelates. The former had held forth, that he was an archbishop in his own diocese, and would give place to no man, — that the power of the cardinal was borrowed from Rome, and pertained only to his own person, and not to his bishopric ; for it was a probable case that his successor would not be a cardinal, but that his (the archbishop of Glasgow’s) dignity was inseparable from his office, and would belong to all that ever should be bishops of Glasgow; — in fine, and what was most offensive of all to the cardinal, — that he (the archbishop of Glasgow) was a bishop, when the other was only Beaton , before he got the abbey of Aberbrothwick. These sentiments of the prelate of Glasgow being spoken with- out reserve, and having been spread through- out the church, had made such a variance between him and the primate, “ that the enmity was judged mortal, and without all hope of reconciliation.” But, as in one day, on an occasion somewdiat similar, though of far more importance, Pilate and Herod were made friends, so, in the eager- ness of the cardinal to procure the condem- nation of Wishart from the most exalted dignitaries of the church, he laid aside his resentment against the archbishop of Glas- gow, and wrote to him first of all, in most friendly terms, craving his presence and assistance, in order to the suppression of this great enemy of the church. Nor w r as the prelate of Glasgow 7 slow in his obedience. As if glad of the opportunity of commencing again a friendship with the cardinal, he hastened to St Andrews at the time appointed ; “sat next to the cardinal,” says Knox, “ w r aited and subscribed next in rank, and lay over the east block-house with the said cardinal, till the martyr of God was consumed with fire.” The archbishop of Glasgow, however, on his arrival at St Andrews, being a man, on the wdiole, of greater caution and pru- dence, suggested to the cardinal the pro- priety of an application to the governor, to grant a commission to some layman of rank, appointing him to be the medium of executing justice upon Wishart, that the odium of putting to death a preacher so universally beloved, might not rest wholly with the clergy. The archbishop of Glasgow now made no farther opposition, and accordingly the cardinal served Wishart with a summons to appear before him and his clergy, in the abbey church, on the last day of February (which was the next day), to answer for his seditious and heretical doctrines. “ No- thing,” says Dr Cook, “ can be conceived more irritating, or more adapted to render oppression doubly grieving, than a regard to the forms of justice, when there is a firm conviction, that they who use them intend their violation.” Wishart strongly felt this injustice ; and wdien, by the order of the cardinal, he was cited to appear by G ! i I 50 SCOTS WORTHIES. the dean of St Andrews, he took this form for jest, seeing that he was already a prisoner, and wholly in the cardinal’s power. He replied to the citation, “ The cardinal has no need to summon me, for I am already in his power, and kept fast bound in irons ; so that he can compel me to answer when he pleases. I am not unprovided to render an account of my doctrine, but to show at once what men ye are, it is well done to adhere to your forms and constitutions. On the following day this most illegal trial took place. The cardinal displayed on the occasion all the ensigns of his authority, that, by the grandeur of the procession, and the show of armed men, he might make an impression on the people. The place of assembly was the abbey-church of St Andrews, into which Wishart was brought by the captain of the castle. The court was opened by a sermon from John Winram, the sub-prior of the abbey, a man of great learning, enlightened mind, and a secret friend to the reformed doctrines, who preached by appointment of the cardinal. He took for his text the 13th chapter of St Matthew’s Gospel, and discoursed concerning the good seed. The whole sermon was on the nature of heresv, but was delivered in such a manner as applied more justly to the cardinal and his colleagues, than to the accused. His dis- course he divided into four parts. The first was a short declaration of the meaning of the evangelist. The second was con- cerning the meaning of the good seed , which he declared to be the word of God, ; and heresy the bad seed; and he defined heresy to be “ a false opinion, directly repugnant to the word of God, and perti- naciously defended.” After laying down j some rules for the discovery of heresy, j which could only be ascertained by the scriptures, he said, that, as the touchstone was made use of for distinguishing gold i from counterfeit metals, so the proper trial of heresy was the word of God. The third part of the discourse was concerning the causes of the increase of heresy within the realm, which, without hesitation, he as- cribed to the ignorance of those who had the charge of men’s souls ; who, because they did not themselves understand the j word of God, were unable to lead back those into the right path, who went astray; j and, in defining the character of those who ought to be able to win again the teachers of heresy, by the sword of the Spirit, which j is the word of God, he supported his posi- tion by St Paul’s charge to Timothy: — “ A bishop must be faultless, as becometh the minister of God, not stubborn nor angry, no drunkard, no fighter, not given 1 to filthy lucre, but hospitable, one that loveth charity, sober-minded, righteous, holy, temperate, and such as cleaveth unto the true word of doctrine ; that he may prevail with wholesome learning, and im- pugn what is said against him.” He ex- pressed some doubt about the propriety of punishing heretics in the world, founding his opinions on the words of the parable on the wheat and the tares, “ Let them both grow together till the harvest.” The con- clusion of his discourse, however, was in- consistent, for he asserted that heresy ought to be opposed by the church and state, and that those who were guilty of it might be lawfully put to death by the civil magistrate. ^ It may be readily supposed, that the cardinal, who was not devoid of talent, did not at all relish Winram’s discourse, and had he been in other circumstances, he would probably have called him to an account for some of his premises. But at that time he had affairs of much greater importance on hand. Accordingly after the sermon, Winram descended from the pulpit, and was succeeded by Wishart himself, whom they caused to ascend there, GEORGE WISHART. 51 that he might hear his accusation and articles. Opposite to him, on an eminence erected for the purpose, stood a priest of the name of John Lauder, who acted as his accuser, and who addressed him with such coarseness and reproach, as would have disgraced the tyranny of a more barbarous age. The mildness and humi- lity of Wishart presented a striking con- trast to the furious zeal of this fanatical priest. He fell on his knees, and offered up a short petition to heaven. In the mean time Lauder went from one accusa- tion to another, foaming at the mouth with rage, and even spitting in Wishart’ s face, and calling out to him, “ Thou runagate, traitor, thief, what answerest thou to these sayings, which we have duly proved by sufficient witnesses against thee ?” Wishart, throughout this scene of perse- cution and abuse, preserved all his charac- teristic meekness and magnanimity. He calmly made answer, that they had alleged against him, as a Christian man, many abominable sayings, which he thought abomination not only to teach, but also to think; and he besought them quietly to hear him, that they might the more equi- tably judge of his doctrine. He desired to be heard, he said, for three causes. First , because, through preaching of the word of God, his glory is made manifest ; and it was reasonable for the advancement of God’s glory, that they should hear him teaching the pure word of God, without any dissimulation ; secondly , because their own well-being originated from God’s word ; for by it he worketh all things. It would be therefore an unrighteous thing, if they should stop their ears, when he truly preach- ed the word of God. And, thirdly , because their allegations set forth many pestilent, blasphemous, and abominable words, not coming by the inspiration of God, but from the devil, to the great hazard of his life. It would be just, therefore, and reasonable, that they knew what his words and doctrine were, which he had ever taught since his return to Scotland, that he might not perish unjustly, to the great danger of his accusers. He besought them, therefore, to hear him, for the glory of God, their own peace of mind, and the safeguard of his own life, while he recited his doctrine, without any colouring or dissimulation. Wishart then began with great modesty to give an account of his sermons, declaring that he had never taught any doctrines contrary to the ten commandments, the apostles’ creed, and the Lord’s prayer. First and chiefly, he said, since he had returned to Scotland, he had taught these in the mother tongue. He had, moreover, expounded the Epistle to the Romans in Dundee, and he would show them faithfully what fashion and manner he used, when he taught without any dread of human autho- rity. - As Wishart was thus proceeding, he was interrupted by Lauder, who again ex- claimed, “ Thou heretic, runagate, traitor, thief, it was not lawful for thee to preach ; thou hast taken the power into thine own hand, without any authority from the church ! We forethink thou hast been a preacher so long.” The assembled prelates also pro- hibited him from discoursing, saying, “ If we give him liberty to preach, he is so crafty, and in holy Scripture so exercised, that he will persuade the people to his opinion, and raise them against us.” “ They willed him,” says Spottiswoode, “to answer simply, yea or nay , fearing, if liberty was given him to speak, he should draw some of the hearers to his mind.” Being thus interrupted with the utmost violence, and finding that it was impossible for him, in the situation in which he was placed, to make his defence, Wishart at once appealed to more competent and un- biassed judges. Lauder, his accuser and most virulent enemy, took this opportunity ■ of flattering the cardinal. Triumphantly SCOTS WORTHIES. 52 enumerating his many splendid titles, lie asked the martyr, if he who was archbishop of St Andrews, bishop of Mirepoix in France, chancellor of Scotland, commen- dator (or abbot) of Aberbrothwick, Legatus natus , legatus a latere , and the second person in the kingdom, was not to be regarded as a proper judge ? Wishart calmly answered, “ I condemn not the lord cardinal, neither do I refuse him, but I desire the word of God to be my judge, and some of the temporal estate, with cer- tain of your lordships here present, because I am my lord governor’s prisoner.” When j Wishart had thus spoken, some of his I enemies called out, “ such man, such judge,” | j meaning that the governor and others of his friends were heretics like himself. This appeal of Wishart greatly irritated Beaton, and he would have immediately condemned him without any farther cere- mony, had he not been reminded that it was proper that the accusation should be again ! read, and the replies heard to its different ! parts, lest the people might think him | j wrongfully condemned. “ It is evident that j | the other prelates, aware of the impression which the death of Wishart would probably leave, were anxious to avoid all irregularity in their proceedings, and although they had failed in procuring the sanction of the civil power, they persuaded the cardinal to hear Wishart.”* Eighteen articles were accord- * The following are the articles exhibited against the martyr, and more absurd and misrepresented ! calumnies were never invented against any man : — “ Art. 1. — Thou false hereticke, runagate, traytor, and thief, deceiver of the people, despisest the church, and in like case contemnes my lord governour’s authority. And this we know of surety, that when thou preachedst in Dundie, and was charged by my lord governour’s authority to desist ; neverthelesse thou wouldest not obey, but persevered in the same : and therefore the bishop of Breachen cursed thee, and delivered thee into the devil’s hand, and gave thee then commandment, that thou shouldest preach no more ; yet notwith- standing thou didst continue obstinately. ingly exhibited against the prisoner, and these were brought against him in such a manner as to affix a lasting disgrace on those who compiled them. His opinions “ Art. 2. — Thou false hereticke didst say, that j a priest standing at the altar saying masse, was like a fox wagging his taile in July. Answer “ My lords, I said not so. These were my sayings ; The moving of the body out- ward, without inward moving of the heart, is nought else but the playing of an ape, and not the true serving of God, for God is a secret searcher of men’s hearts. Therefore, who will truly adore and honour God, he must in spirit and verity honour him. — Then the accuser (Lauder) stopped his mouth with another article. “ Art. 3. — Thou false hereticke preachest against the sacraments, saying, that there are not seven sacraments. “ Art. 4. — Thou false hereticke hast openly taught, that auricular confession is not a blessed sacrament, and thou saist, that we should onely confesse us to God, and to no priest. “ Art. 5. — Thou false hereticke didst say openly, that it was necessary for every man to know and understand his baptisme ; which is contrary to generall councels, and the estates of holy church. “ Art. 6 — Thou false hereticke, traytor, and thiefe, thou saidst, that the sacrament of the altar was but a piece of bread baken upon the ashes, and no other thing else ; and all that is there done, is but a superstitious rite, against the commandment of God. “ Art. 7. — Thou false hereticke didst say, that extreme unction was not a sacrament. Answer. — “ My lords, forsooth I never taught of extreme unction in my doctrine, whether it was a sacrament or no. “ Art. 8. — Thou false hereticke didst say, that holy water is not so good as wash, and such like. Thou contemnest conjuring, and sayest, that holy churches cursing availeth not. “ Art. 9. — Thou false hereticke and runagate, hast said that every man is a priest ; and likewise thou sayest, that the pope hath no more power than another man. “ Art. 10. — Thou false hereticke saidst, that a man had no free-will, but is like to the Stoics, which say, that it is not in man’s will to do any thing, but that all desire and concupiscence cometh of God, of whatsoever kinde it be of. “ Art. 11. — Thou false hereticke sayest, it is as lawfull to eat flesh upon Friday, as on Sunday. f * Art. 12. — Thou false hereticke doest say, that we should not pray unto saints, but to God GEORGE WISHART. were most grievously misrepresented, as if j indeed the cardinal had resolved on his destruction at all hazards. He endeavoured I in vain to convey to his persecutors an accurate idea of them ; they either would not, or could not, understand him. The patience of Beaton had been long ere this time exhausted. In order to bring the j trial to a conclusion, it was found that onely, say whether thou hast said this or no, say shortly. I “ Art. 13. — Thou false hereticke hast preached plainely, that there is no purgatory, and that it is | a fained thing, for any man after this life to be punished in purgatory. “ Art. 14. — Thou false hereticke hast taught | plainly against the vows of monks, friers, nuns, and j priests, saying, that whosoever was bound to such like vows, they vowed themselves to the state of ' damnation. Moreover, that it was lawfull for priests to marry wives, and not to live sole. “ Art. 15. — Thou false hereticke and runagate sayest, that thou wilt not obey our generall or pro- vinciall counsells. “ Art. 16. — Thou hereticke sayest, that it is vain to build to the honour of God costly churches, seeing that God remaineth not in churches made by men’s hands, nor yet can God be in little space, as betwixt the priest’s hands. | “ Art. 17. — Thou false hereticke contemnest fasting, and sayest thou shouldest not fast. Answer. — “ My lords, I finde that fasting is commanded in the scriptures, therefore I were a slanderer of the gospel, if I contemned fasting. And not so onely, but I have learned by experi- ence, that fasting is good for the health, and con- servation of the body. But God only knoweth who fasteth the true fast. “ Art. 18. — Thou false hereticke hast preached openly, saying, that the soules of men shall sleepe to the latter day of judgment, and shall not obtaine i life immortall untill the last day. Answer. — “ God full of mercy and goodnesse j forgive them that say such things of me. I wot, j and know surely by the word of God, that he who I hath begun to have the faith of Jesus Christ, and j to beleeve firmely in him, I know surely, I say, J that the soule of that man shall never sleepe, but | ever shall live an immortall life, the which life | from day to day is renewed in grace, and augment- j ed, nor yet shall ever perish or have an end, but shall ever live immortall with Christ the head. To the which life all that believe in him shall come, and rest in eternall glory. Amen.” 53 Wishart maintained opinions contrary to those received by the catholic church ; and, because he obstinately defended them, he was condemned as a heretic, and sentenced to die at the stake the following day. TESTIMONY OP GEORGE WISHART. The multitude being removed, Wishart heard his sentence with dignified com- posure. He kneeled down before his per- secutors with all the piety of the first martyrs, and thus prayed : “ O immortal God, how long wilt thou suffer the rage and great cruelty of the ungodly to exercise their fury on thy servants, who do further thy word in the world, seeing they desire the contrary, that is, to choke and destroy thy doctrine and truth, by the which thou hast showed thyself unto the world, which was overwhelmed with ignorance and de- spising of thy holy name ? O Lord, we know surely, that thy true servants must suffer, for thy name’s sake, persecution, affliction, and troubles in this present life, which is nevertheless but a shadow, as thou hast showed to us by thy prophets and apostles. But we desire thee, merciful Father, that thou wouldst preserve, defend, and help thy congregation, whom thou hast chosen before the beginning of the world, and give them thy grace to hear thy word, and to be thy true servants in this present life.” After this prayer, he rose from his knees, and meekly heard the conclusion of the sentence. He saw at once, that the great aim of the cardinal all along had been to ruin him, and now, from the time in which he had been delivered into his power, he expected little mercy or forbearance. Whether the treachery of Bothwell would at this time be recalled to his memory, or whether the illegality of the whole proceed- ings of the cardinal without the governor’s warrant overcame him, we cannot say; certain it is, that his thoughts were occu- pied with his fate, and he prepared himself for it with all the courage and resignation of a Christian. When this mock trial was concluded, he was led back to the castle of St Andrews, and lodged in the captain’s room. The greater part of the night he spent in prayer and other acts of devotion, while his unaffected piety, his awful situa- tion, his meekness and resignation, and the injustice done to him by the cardinal, made that officer behave to him with the greatest respect. On the same day, the cardinal issued out an order, that no person should pray for the heretic, under the severest ecclesiastical censures. The rage of Wishart’s enemies did not stop here. Determined, as was indeed their common practice, to add insult to cruelty, they sent two friars to him on the following morning, acquainting him that he must die that day, and exhorting him to make con- fession. To these he answered, that he had no business with friars, nor did he wish any conference with them ; but if they were disposed to gratify him, he desired to confer with the learned man who yesterday preach- ed to them. This request was granted, and accordingly Winram, the sub-prior, attended him. The excellent priest, after a long conference with Wishart, asked him if he wished to receive the sacrament. To this the martyr willingly assented, and in- deed expressed his anxiety to partake of it, according to our Saviour’s institution. The sub-prior would most willingly have grant- ed Wishart’s request, had it depended on him alone ; for, being himself a secret favourer of the truth, he was already fully convinced of Wishart’s innocence. Con- ceiving, however, that it was right to state the case to his superiors, Winram went to the bishops, and told them that he had conferred with the prisoner, who solemnly affirmed that he was free of all the deadly crimes laid to his charge ; and that he said this not out of any desire he had for life, but that he might manifest his innocency before men, which was known to God. These opinions of Winram, as also the fact of his having already spoken to the bishops in favour of Wishart, greatly en- raged the cardinal. He turned fiercely on Winram, saying, “ You, sir, it is a long time since we have known what manner of man you are.” To this Winram answered nothing, as he perceived that his sentiments, for a long time suspected, were now fully known. He only asked if they would allow the sacrament to be given to the prisoner. The cardinal conferred a little while with 1 the prelates, and then answered in name of them, that it was not reasonable to give any spiritual benefit to an obstinate heretic condemned by the church. Wishart soon got notice that his perse- cutors had added to their other cruelties, by denying him the last solemn rites of religion. On that awful morning he ac- cepted an invitation from the captain of the castle to breakfast with him. This, he said, he did the more willingly, because he conceived the captain to be a good Christian, and a man fearing God. The captain’s family assembled on this solemn occasion, with one or two others. It was indeed an impressive scene, considering that in a few hours their guest would expire by a most revolting and cruel death. The table being covered, as the custom was, and bread and wine set upon it, turning to the captain, the martyr said, tc I beseech you, in the name of God, and for the love you bear our Lord Jesus Christ, that you will sit down in silence a little while, and vouchsafe me a patient hearing, whilst I give you a short exhortation, and pray over this bread and wine, which, as brethren in Christ, we are about to eat, and then I will bid you i GEORGE WISHART. 55 heartily farewell.” Upon this he proceeded to the consecration of the eucharist. He discoursed nearly half an hour on the Saviour s passion, and the institution of the Holy Supper, the last sufferings and death of Christ. He exhorted them to lay aside all anger, malice, and envy, and to impress mutual love on their minds, that so they might become perfect members of Christ, who makes daily intercession with the Father, that our sacrifice may be ac- ceptable by him to eternal life. Giving thanks, he broke the bread, distributing it to every one around him; then, having I tasted the wine, he delivered the cup to them, exhorting them to remember, in this his communion with them, the death of the Lord Jesus. “ As to myself,” he said, “there is a more bitter potion prepared for me, only because I have preached the true doctrine of Christ, which bringeth salvation ; but pray with me to the Lord that I may take it patiently, as out of his I hand.” Deeply affected with this impressive I scene, those present received the memorials ! of Christ’s sufferings without hesitation. Wishart then concluded with a new thanks- giving ; and bidding the family of the i captain a last farewell, he retired to his chamber. In a short time two executioners came i to him, one of whom arrayed him in a ! black linen dress, and the other fastened ; to his body some bags of gunpowder ; and in this dress he was led into an outer room, till all things were prepared for his death. The cardinal seems even at this time to have dreaded an attempt for his rescue. He commanded all the artillery of the fortress to be pointed towards the stake; and, as if to observe the expressions of popular indignation, to show his hatred to the Reformers, and to satisfy his cruelty by witnessing the last moments of a man in whose ashes he fondly hoped all their principles would be annihilated, he resolved, with the other prelates, to be a witness of the awful spectacle. The windows and balconies were hung with tapestry, and rich cushions laid for the ease of the primate and his friends. From this place did he witness, without remorse or sympathy, the whole proceedings of this melancholy scene. A scaffold was erected on the east part of the castle of St Andrews towards the abbey, with a large post in the midst of it, to which the martyr was to be tied. When all things were ready, he was led forth, having., his hands bound, and guarded to the place of execution. As he was going out of the castle gate, some in great poverty begged alms from him : to whom he said, “ I have not now the use of my hands to give you alms, but our merciful God, who, out ! of his abundance feedeth all men, vouchsafe to give you those things which are neces- sary both for soul and body.” Two friars afterwards met him, calling out to him, while they presented their crucifixes, “ Pray to our lady, that she may intercede for you with her Son.” But to them he an- j swered with great firmness, “ Cease, tempt me not, my brethren, I entreat you.” • The martyr by this time was conducted j to the stake. He turned to the spectators, j and entreated them not to be discouraged j from hearing the word of God because of the sufferings he was about to undergo ; beseeching them at the same time to inform those who had often heard him preach that the doctrines he taught were no cunningly devised fables, but the true gospel of Christ committed to him by the grace of God, which he was commissioned to preach, and for which he most willingly resigned his life. “ For the word’s sake, and for the true evangel of Jesus Christ,” said he, “ I suffer this day, not sorrowfully, but with a glad heart and mind. For this cause I was sent, that I should suffer this fire for Christ’s sake. Consider and behold 56 SCOTS WORTHIES. my visage ; ye shall not see me change my colour. This great fire I fear not ; and so I pray you to do, if that any persecution come unto you for the word’s sake, not to, fear them that slay the body, but rather Him who has power to slay the soul.” It would seem that Wishart had been charged with the Arabian heresy, which affirms, that the soul sleeps till the day of judgment. This, he said, was a calumny upon him. “ Some have falsely said that I hold the opinion that the souls of men departed sleep after death till the last day; but I know and believe the contrary, and am assured that my soul will this night be with my Saviour in the heavens.” While he was thus speaking, the executioner came up to him, and said, “ I pray your forgive- ness, for I am not guilty of your death,” to whom he answered, “ Come hither to me ;” and, when he approached, he kissed the cheek of the executioner, saying, “ Lo, here is a token that I forgive thee, do thine office.” Wishart, in his last moments, conducted himself as became a martyr for the truth | and the cause of religion. The signal being given for the executioner to kindle ! the fire, he kneeled down, and exclaimed ! with a loud voice, “ O Saviour of the world, have mercy upon me : Father of heaven, I commend my spirit into thy holy hands.” The fire was now kindled, and the powder exploded, but life was not immediately TBurning of Wishart at St Anlrews, 1516.] extinguished. The captain of the castle perceiving that he was still alive, approach- ed, entreating him to preserve his fortitude, and to commend himself to God. The martyr answered in the midst of his suffer- ings, with unshaken constancy, that, “ though the flame had scorched his body, it had not daunted his spirit.” These were his last ( words. The cord which surrounded his I neck having been more tightly drawn by the executioner, he soon expired, and the flames increasing, his body was reduced to ashes. Thus died, on the first day of March, GEORGE WISHART. 57 1546, this distinguished advocate for the Reformation. His virtues, candour, and learning, have been admitted by every historian ; while his piety, meekness, and benevolence, adorned the doctrines which he openly taught.* The popish clergy rejoiced at his death, and extolled the cardinal’s courage for pro- ceeding in it without the governor’s order; but the people regarded him as both a prophet and a martyr. It was also said, that, abstractly from the grounds of his suffering, his execution was no less than murder, in that no writ was obtained for it, and the clergy could not burn any with- out a warrant from the secular power. \ * “ It was impossible for the people to behold unmoved so cruel an execution. It was remember- ed also, that the governor had refused his concur- rence, — that the sanction of the civil authority had been withheld, and the fate of Wishart was pro- nounced unjust and illegal. That many of his opinions were such as the church deemed heretical, could not be denied ; but men had now begun to appeal to the word of God, as the test of the truth ; and to be subjected to such inhuman torments for the declaration of its precepts, was esteemed mon- strous. The courage, meekness, and patience with which the martyr had borne his sufferings, produced a deep effect ; and the invariable results of perse- cution were soon discernible in a spirit of increasing investigation, a revulsion from the tyranny of power, and a steady progress towards the truth.” — Tytlers Hist, of Scotland, vol. v. page 422. This stirred up Norman and John Leslie, of the family of Rothes, William Kirkaldie of Grange, James Melvill of the family of Carnbee, Peter Carmichael, and others, to avenge Mr Wishart’s death. Accordingly, upon the 28tli of May, 1546, not three months after Mr Wishart suffered, they surprised the castle early in the morning, and either secured or turned out the per- sons that were lodged in it ; and came to the cardinal’s door. He was by this time alarmed, and had secured it ; but upon their threatening to employ force, he opened it, (relying for safety partly upon the sanctity of his office, and partly on his acquaintance with some of them,) crying, “ I am a priest, I am a priest.” But this had no effect upon them ; for James Melvill having ex- horted him in a most solemn manner to repentance, and having apprized him, that he was now to avenge Mr Wishart’s death, he stabbed him twice or thrice, which ended his wretched days. These persons, j with some others who came in to them, held the castle for nearly two years, being assist- ed by England. They had the governor’s eldest son with them; for he had been put under the cardinal’s care, and was in the castle at the time they surprised it. The castle was at last besieged by the French, and surrendered upon having the lives that were in it secured. i > ii , .1 K SCOTS WORTHIES. 58 ADAM WALLACE. For four years after the death of Wishart, the political troubles in which Scotland was involved, served to suspend the rage of persecution. A peace, however, was at last concluded, and the year 1550 termi- nated the war. Archbishop Hamilton then commenced his persecuting career by apprehending Adam Wallace, and bringing him to trial and execution. Nothing could be more impolitic or more infatuated than this pro- cedure of the primate. Wallace, who is always described by contemporary histo- rians as a “ simple man,” was of such humble station in life, as to have secured him from notice, had not the archbishop been at once led away by the most impru- dent rage against the Reformers. The death of Wallace, in fact, could serve no purpose at all, but only exasperate to a greater degree the minds of those who held the doctrines of the Reformation. The priests seemed, indeed, by their own conduct, to he fast hastening their downfall; so true it is, that the wicked often lay snares for themselves, and perish by means of their own devices. But simple as Wallace was, his simplicity was that of the gospel ; he was not profoundly learned in the wisdom of the world, but he was well instructed in the gospel of peace ; and as a martyr for the truth, and a patient and heroic sufferer, he deserves to be remembered by posterity with every grateful recollection. Perhaps his humble station may be as- signed as a reason why we know nothing of him, till about the time of his martyrdom. But whatever was “ the humble station” of Wallace, it is certain that he and his wife, whose name was Beatrice Livingston, were frequently in company with the lady of Ormiston, and that he acted as preceptor to that lady’s children during the absence of her husband. What formed the branches of instruction we are not informed, but the family was one of considerable note in East Lothian, and long famed for their adher- ence to the doctrines of the Reformers. It will be recollected that the martyr Wishart was apprehended in the house of Ormiston, and that this baron was one of the martyr’s greatest friends ; and it will also be recol- lected, that he was himself apprehended on that occasion along with Sir John Sandi- lands of Calder, and committed prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh, from which he made his escape by leaping the w r all. Wallace was not a priest; and the remark of Keith seems in all likelihood to be true, “ that the catechising” of the lady Ormiston’s children, “ and also of other children in the new forms,” the reformed doctrines, “ made the man to be more taken notice of than otherwise he would have been.” Whether this be the case or not, he was apprehended at Winton in East Lothian, by the direction of the archbishop of St Andrews, and brought to his trial in the church of the Black Friars at Edinburgh. The apprehension of this inoffensive ADAM WALLACE. 59 man seems to have been viewed as a great matter by the primate and his friends ; at least if we may judge from the personages who assembled on that occasion. With all the apparatus of rank and power, a scaffold was erected in the church, and seats were placed thereon for the reception of the assembly. The regent himself . occupied the chief seat ; above him at his back, sat Gavin Hamilton dean of Glasgow, repre- senting the archbishop of that see ; at the right hand of the regent sat his natural brother, the archbishop of St Andrews; and, at the back of the primate, stood the official of Lothian. The bishops of Dun- blane and Moray, the abbot of Dunfermline, who seems to have thrust himself into every occasion of persecution, the abbot of Glenluce, and other churchmen of inferior degree, with various of the primate’s clergy, from the city of St Andrews, were also present. There were also in attendance | the earl of Argyle as justice, and Sir John j Campbell of Lundy, the earl of Huntly, lord chancellor, the earl of Angus, the bishop of Galloway, the prior of St Andrews (afterwards earl of Moray), the bishop of | Orkney, lord Forbes, John Winram sub- j prior of St Andrews, and behind them ! stood the whole senate, and other inferior I officers, the clerk of the register. Such was the splendid convention in the church of the Black Friars at Edinburgh, i which met for the trial of Adam Wallace, i In the pulpit appeared John Lauder, the j fanatical priest who abused Wishart at his J trial, and who, on this occasion, acted also I the part of accuser. Arrayed in a surplice and red hood, Lauder stood forth before a large congregation, some of whom beheld the scene with wonder, and others w r ith contempt and indignation. Lauder seems to have been plentifully endowed with the sanguinary ideas of his late master, Beaton, and he only wanted the power to be fully as severe. It is not at all improbable, that he gained the confidence of his superiors in the church by his zeal, and that he even stimulated them by his counsels. His situation at best was contemptible, as being the tool of men abhorred for their cruelty, and everywhere unpopular for their politi- cal intrigues. But the man who could revile the meek and pious Wishart, who could exult at the misfortunes of him whom Providence had placed in his power, who could address the language of foul-mouthed scorn and reproach, to a man whose only crime, if crime it be, was difference of opinion, — such a man was capable of com- mitting any act of cruelty, and of over- colouring any charge exhibited against a prisoner, in order to further and support his fabric of deceit. To call together such an assembly for the purpose of condemning a man of hum- ble station and primitive simplicity, who would have never been heard of beyond his own narrow and humble circle, was in the highest degree ridiculous and absurd. But the primate was not a bad politician, and on this occasion he thought proper to exercise some of his political foresight, which he conceived would tend to the future benefit and stability of the church. This was his first outset in his career of blood, which his predecessor, “the persecuting cardinal,” as Fox appropriately terms Bea- ton, had so carefully trod, and for which I he at last received his reward; and he determined to show the spectators a speci- men of his power and influence. Surround- 1 ed by some of the great men of the king- dom, supported by his brother, the weak and irresolute regent, and the earl of Huntly, the lord chancellor of the kingdom, and by numerous sons of the church, who, by their presence, gave their hearty concurrence to the measure, he sat in prelatical dignity, smiling with complacency at his own power and exaltation, and at the blow he vainly thought he was about to give the Reforma- 60 SCOTS WORTHIES. tion by the death of Adam Wallace. The primate had resolved to strike terror at once into the hearts of the spectators, and to declare to the kingdom, that, supported as he was by the civil power, and with the regent entirely at his devotion, he was determined to strengthen the church, and to crush the Reformation. He forgot the declaration of sacred writ, that the counsel of God shall stand, and that he shall do all his pleasure. John Winram, sub-prior of St Andrews, was among the ecclesiastics ; and, to a mind like his, enlightened by truth, and secretly attached to the reformed doctrines, this ; must have appeared a scene of ridiculous ; farce and cruelty. He was already con- vinced that the catholic church was totter- ing to its base, and he not unlikely thought, that the primate before him would be the last whose nomination would be confirmed by his holiness of Rome. Reasoning from cause to effect, this seemed to be the real state of the case ; nor did Winram the less rejoice on that account. This worthy priest, whose excellence Wishart himself acknowledged, and whose orthodoxy Knox had complimented, detested those exhibi- tions of cruelty, and secretly wished for the overthrow of all the strongholds of superstition. Moderate himself in his measures, he was for proceeding by fair and 'ihonest argument; and he rightly thought the cause to be indeed pitiable, which could not stand a calm and candid investigation. In this case, he must have j | beheld with abhorrence the primate’s pro- | ceedings, and he doubtless rejoiced, that, otherwise than by his presence, he took no active part in the trial. The conduct of Winram, however, it must be confessed, does not at all appear j to be open and consistent. He was long ! deeply sensible of the errors of his church, j and yet we find him remaining in the j church, and not only present at the trial of Wallace, but also at that of Walter Mill, which took place eight years afterwards. When a man is convinced that the church of which he is a member has made a most lamentable declension, — that her doctrines are not only dangerous but damnable, — that not only her profession but her prac- tice is unscriptural, — that she is not only deluded herself, but tries to delude others, — and when he sees that she obstinately sets her face, as it were, against all refor- mation, and not only maintains but exults in her errors, it is his duty as a man, a Christian, a professor of the truth, a lover of his own soul and the souls of others, to separate from such a corrupt society, and not to give place by subjection, no, not for an hour, lest the gospel of Christ become a reproach to the scorner. It is every man’s duty to examine for himself the standards and doctrines of every Christian society, and to unite himself to that which he con- ceives the most scriptural, and the purest in doctrine and discipline ; but it is not his duty to remain in a society which can be proved to have departed from its original practice, and, above all, from the great authority of the church, the scriptures of truth, more especially if he sees men in that society, who, deaf to every expostulation, ever and anon vindicate and defend its errors, and attempt to gloss them over and reconcile them by sophistical reason- ings ; and when he also well know r s, that all his own attempts at reformation will be unavailing, and treated with ridicule or severity. And more especially is it his duty to separate from a corrupt Christian society, when he beholds it not only deter- mined to support its errors, but actually employing the civil power, to punish, by the heaviest penalties, those who take the sacred and birth-right liberty of thinking for themselves. But to what length soever these remarks may apply in our own day, let us not be too rash in condemning the Jj ADAM WALLACE. 61 conduct of Winram, and of others in his times, who were placed in the like circum- stances. While we venerate those illus- trious men, who at the dawn of the Re- formation enlisted under the banners of truth, let us not load with unqualified cen- sure, or deprive of all praise, those who, less enlightened, or from nature more timid, were tardy in fighting the battles of the Lord. The Saviour himself rejected not such disciples. Nicodemus, who “ came by night to Jesus,” and Joseph of Arimathea, who was his disciple “ secretly, for fear of the Jews,” afterwards declared their faith in j their Master, by embalming and interring i his dead body, when all the other disciples j “ had forsaken him and fled.” Numbers of the Scottish clergy, friendly to the Re- formation, contrived to retain their situa- | tions, by a concealment of their sentiments, j Among these, besides the learned and mo- derate Winram, were Adam Heriot, a friar of the abbey of St Andrews, John Carse- well, rector of Kilmartin, and John Spottis- woode, parson of Calder. And the services which those men and others afterwards rendered the Reformation, were ample equivalents for their tardiness in embracing that cause, which emphatically brought “liberty to the captive, and the opening of the prison doors to them that were bound.” It appears to us, that there never was a greater satire upon justice, than the pre- tence made by the Romish church of trying heretics. Already condemned by the canon laws, which expressly declare that heretics shall be punished with death, how absurd was it for churchmen to pretend to give men a fair trial, whom they had previously condemned without ceremony? We do not here allude at all to the Inquisition, SCOTS WORTHIES. 62 nor to the forms of trial pursued in that villanous and bloody tribunal, which, did we lack other proofs, would at once verify our assertions, by a host of arguments, from its well-known history ; but we refer simply to those individual trials which took place in Scotland, and in other countries, where churchmen coolly condemned their prisoners, and delivered them over to the secular power, without any ceremony at all. And let it be remarked, that almost all those prisoners were men who had been long marked out by the prelates, — whom they had long pursued, — and whose death they had already determined before their apprehension ; and was it not in the highest degree ridiculous, and against all equity, that those very prelates who had long be- fore resolved on the death of the heretic, should, prejudiced as they were, sit as judges over him ? Was there mercy to be expected from such judges ? Was there even the slightest chance that the opinions of the prisoner would be investigated,- or even that he would get a hearing at all ? We hesitate not to challenge any one to produce, from the annals of the catholic church in this or any country, a single case in which the prisoner was fairly and equi- tably tried, or in which he was not con- demned by the prelates in their own minds, before he was apprehended. There is scarcely a single instance in which the sentence was mitigated, except when the intercession was most powerful, and even the cases are exceedingly rare. We say again, it was a mere mockery, a satire on justice, to pretend to try men fairly and honourably, whose death had already been determined, both by private resentment, and outrageous and fanatical zeal for the church. These remarks are abundantly verified in the case of the simple but upright Adam Wallace. Hamilton had previously deter- mined the death of the humble martyr ; he resolved to begin with him as an example, thinking that, as the life of this amiable man was of no great consequence, his punishment would prove a salutary check to those who professed the reformed doc- trines. No prelate in Scotland ever showed a greater want of feeling, Beaton excepted, than did Hamilton on this occasion. He knew well that Wallace was not able to! answer the sophisms and scurrility ofj Lauder, who, when he treated George | Wishart with such fanatical abuse, a gen- 1 tleman, of an ancient family, and a man of learning, would to a greater degree vilify the “ simple man,” whom the rash primate ■ had caused to be apprehended. But having j met, as they all did, with their resolution j previously formed to condemn him, what could be more unworthy of a man of the primate’s birth and station, of his character ! as a man, and a Christian bishop, than the | line of conduct which he pursued ? It would seem that, on this occasion, the lords spiritual and temporal, and the right | reverend fathers, had some other business ! to manage before they proceeded to the | trial of Wallace. Sir John Ker, a priest, and prebendary of St Giles’ church in Edinburgh, was cited before them, to an- swer charges brought against him. He was accused, convicted, and condemned, for issuing a false sentence of divorce, whereby a separation took place between a man and his lawful wife, and this too in the name of the dean of Restalrig, and certain other judges nominated by the pope. Ker admitted his crime, but alleged that he never intended to do anything against the laws of the realm. Sentence of banishment was passed against him, and he was doomed to lose his right hand, if he was ever afterwards found in Scotland ; he was also deprived of his benefices, and they were declared vacant. The case of the prebendary of St Giles’ church had no sooner been disposed of, ADAM WALLACE. G3 than the worthy fathers proceeded to the trial of Wallace. The poor man was brought into the church, and placed before his ecclesiastical judges. He cast his eyes around, but it was not the empty gaze or the vacant stare. He probably felt his own personal insignificance when compared with the dignified convention before him, and he wondered why there should be such an assemblage of temporal and ecclesiastical power to condemn him. There was, in fact, a striking contrast between the perse- cutors and the persecuted. The former, proud, haughty, yet not devoid of splendid talents ; the latter, poor, humble, not learn- ed; “but zealous in godliness and upright- ness of life.” He looked around, and before him was the great and noble, behind him was the large congregation. He could not fail to perceive, that all this display of justice by the archbishop was a mere mockery, and that the primate only wished to impose on the people by the dignity of the assembly, and the great power of his friends. Wallace was placed opposite to and confronted with Lauder, who was the person filling the office of public prosecutor for his superior of St Andrews. The prisoner’s appearance was humble and simple in the extreme. His name was first demanded by Lauder, to whom he replied, “ Adam Wallace.” “ Thou hast another name,” said the accuser. “ Yea,” he replied, “ I am commonly called Feane.” “ Where wast thou born ?” “ Near Fayle,” in the district of Kyle.” “ Then,” said Lauder, “ I repent that such a poor man as thou art, should put those noble lords to so great inconvenience this day by your vain speak- ing.” “ I must speak,” replied Wallace, “ as God giveth me grace, and I believe I have said no evil to hurt any man.” “ W ould to God,” said the fanatical priest, “ you had never spoken; but you are brought fortli for such horrible crimes of heresy as were never before heard or thought of in this kingdom ; and these shall be proved in such a manner as you shall not be able to deny them. Indeed, I doubt whether they should be heard, lest they prove ruinous to weak minds, but I will not say any more ; thou shalt hear the heinous charges laid against thee.” Lauder accordingly proceeded to read the indictment. — “ Adam Wallace, alias Feane,” said he, “thou art openly delated and accused for holding, teaching, and preaching the abominable blasphemies and heresies underwritten: — 1. Thou hast said and taught, that the bread and wine on the altar, after the words of consecration, are not the body and blood of Jesus Christ. 2. Thou saidst likewise, and didst teach openly, that the mass is idolatry, and abomi- nable in the sight of God. 3. Thou hast openly usurped the office of a priest, having no calling thereto. 4. Thou didst impiously baptize one of thy own children. 5. Thou hast openly and impiously said and taught, that there is no purgatory. 6. Thou hast openly maintained, that prayers made to the saints and for the dead are superstitious. Thou false heretic, what answerest thou to these charges against thee ?” Wallace heard them again read over one by one, as was the custom. When the first charge was read, he turned to the regent and the other nobles, and said, “ My lords, I never said nor taught anything but what I found written in this book,” (and he produced forthwith a Bible in the English, French, and Dutch languages,) “ which is the word of God ; and, if you be content to judge me by the word of God, here it is, and what I have said wrong, for that I shall be content to suffer punishment, for never said I anything concerning this accusation, but what I found in this book.” This of course was an appeal which would not be well relished by the reverend SCOTS WORTHIES. 64 fathers, who never once thought of appeal- ing to the law and the testimony, knowing well that but few of their doctrines were to be found there. “ What didst thou say ?” cried Lauder in an angry voice. “ I said,” replied Wallace meekly, “that after our Lord Jesus Christ had eaten the paschal lamb in his last supper with his apostles, and had fulfilled the ceremonies of the old law, he instituted a new sacrament, in re- membrance of his death, which was then at hand. He took bread, and blessed it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, Take ye, eat ye, this is my body, which shall be broken and given for you. And likewise the cup he blessed, and bade them drink all thereof, for that was the cup of the New Testament which should be shed for the remission of sins ; and as oft, said our Lord, as ye do this, ye do it in remembrance of me.” The archbishop of St Andrews, with the official of Lothian, the dean of Glasgow, and the other prelates, in the plenitude of their wisdom, could make no reasonable objection to this statement, and they replied, “We know this well enough.” The earl of Huntly, however, who probably did not relish the idea of being detained by a polem- ical discussion, for which he cared but little, said to Wallace, “ Thou answeredst not that which is charged against thee ; say either yea or nay.” To this he again replied, that he desired the word of God to be his judge, for he had said and taught nothing but what that word authorized him to do ; and that word, he wisely said, ought to be judge not only to him, but to all the world. The earl of Huntly again interfered. “ Hast thou not,” he said, “ a judge good enough in the person of the archbishop, and thinkest thou that he knows not God and his word ? Answer those things which are spoken against thee.” The simple martyr was not, however, to be so easily borne down. He declared, that the bishops could not be his judges, because they were open enemies to the doctrines he professed ; and, as for the lord governor, he doubted whether he had the knowledge to discern lies from truth, and the inventions of men from the worship of God. The judge that he desired, he again declared, was the book of God, and if he could be convicted of having spoken or done any thing contrary to that sacred standard, he did not refuse to die ; but, if he was found innocent, as having spoken nothing contrary to that book, then he desired the protection of the governor and the nobility against the tyranny of malicious men. If he expected mercy from such judges, however, he was completely mistaken : and this appeal fell like water to the ground. The prelates saw at the same time that they had a man of a peculiar disposition to manage, and they resolved to take him in particular on his ideas of the sacrament Lauder was accordingly instructed to address him. “ Thou sayest,” said the accuser, “ and hast taught, that the bread and wine in the sacrament of the altar, after the words of the consecration, are not the body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ.” “ I never said more than the Scriptures say,” replied Wallace, “ nor yet more than I have said before. For I know well by St Paul, when he says, Whosoever eateth of this bread, and drinketh of this cup unwor- thily, receiveth to himself damnation. And, therefore, when I taught, which was seldom, and only to them who desired me, I said, that if the sacrament of the altar were truly ministered, and used as the Son of God did intend it, where that was done, God himself was there, by that divine power by which he is in every place, and his presence over all.” The bishop of Orkney here asked him, “ Believest thou not, once for all, that the ADAM WALLACE. bread and wine in the sacrament of the altar, after the words of the consecration, become the very body and blood of God, flesh, blood, and bone ?” This direct query, asserting the abomi- nable doctrine of transubstantiation, — a doctrine than which there never was a greater insult on human reason in requiring to believe it, — was answered comprehen- sively by the humble Wallace. He knew not well, he said, what that word consecra- tion meant. He was not profound in Latin, but he believed that the Son of God was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, and had a natural body, with hands, feet, and other members ; that, in that same body, he acted in the world, preached and taught, suffered death under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried, and by his almighty power he raised up that body on the third day : — -that the said body ascended into heaven, and now sitteth at the right hand of God the Father, which shall come again to judge the quick and the dead. And that this natural body cannot be in two places at once, our Savi- our showed well himself, for the which everlasting thanks be to his holy name ; for, when the woman poured the ointment upon him, and his disciples grudged thereat, he said, “ The poor you have always with you, but me ye have not always meaning his natural body. And also at the ascen- sion of the Saviour, he said to his disciples, who, from their love to him, would ever have had him to remain with them in the body, “ It is needful for you that I pass away, for if I pass not away, the Comforter, the Holy Ghost, shall not come to you (mean- ing that his natural body behoved to be taken from them) ; but be ye stout and of good cheer, for I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” And to con- clude: that the eating of his very flesh profiteth nothing, may be known from his own words, recorded in the sixth chapter 65 of St John’s Gospel, where, after he had said, “ Except ye eat my flesh and drink my blood, ye shall not have life in you j and his disciples murmuring, because of their fleshly lusts, he adds, “ What will ye j think when ye see the Son of Man ascend i to the place from which he came ? It is j the spirit that quickeneth, for the flesh pro- ! fiteth nothing.” The reverend fathers heard this address j with astonishment. The plain and practical demonstration was, however, lost upon them ; and only tended to confirm them the more in their opinion to put the prisoner to death. “ It is an horrible heresy,” cried the bishop of Orkney. Wallace again attempted to speak, and desired the lord governor to | judge whether he had spoken agreeably to the Scriptures ; but he was interrupted. Lauder exclaimed, “Ad secundam ,” (to the second article), and Nunc ad secundam was echoed by the archbishop, whose I patience was by this time well nigh ex- j hausted. Wallace was required now to pay atten- j tion to the second article, which was con- I cerning the mass. To this he replied, that he had read the Bible in three languages, and, as far as he understood these languages, he never read the word mass in them all. The thing, he said, which was in the greatest estimation with men, was often abomina- tion in the sight of God ; and as the mass is held in high estimation, and is not found- ed on the Scriptures, so he said it is idolatry, and abominable in the sight of God. He offered to prove his assertions, and if he failed, he would confess his errors, and submit himself to lawful punishment, other- wise to punish him would be unjust. This challenge, however, was not accepted by the prelates. “ Ad tertiam ,” exclaimed the archbishop, while the prelates all cried, “ Lleresy, heresy, let him be con- demned.” He was next charged with assuming the i SCOTS WORTHIES. J 66 office of a preacher, without being lawfully called to the same ; and to this he answer- ed, That he never judged himself worthy of so excellent a vocation as is the calling of a preacher, nor did he ever presume to preach; only he admitted, that in some private places he did read portions of the Scriptures at times, and that he made short comments thereon to those who would hear him. He was quickly told by Lauder, that he ought not to have meddled with the Scriptures ; but he answered, that he esteemed it the duty of every man to seek the knowledge of God’s word, and the as- surance of his own salvation, which was not to he found but in the Scriptures. A by- stander asked, What would be left for the bishops and priests to do, if every man should he a babbler in the Bible ? To this person Wallace replied, “ It becomes- you to speak more reverently of God, and of his holy word ; and if the judge did right, i he would punish you for your blasphemy. But as to your question, I say, that although you and five thousand would read the Bible, and confess together upon it, yet we leave more to the bishops than either they can or will perform ; for we leave to them the preaching 'of the gospel of Christ, and the feeding of his flock, whom he hath redeem- ed by his own blood, which is a burden j heavy enough; neither do we them any | wrong in working out our own salvation, j as far as we are able.” ; As to the next charge, viz., that of bap- tizing his own child, he answered, that it was as lawful for him to do so, when he could not get a minister to do it, as it was for Abraham to circumcise Ishmael and the rest of his family. Lauder now finally addressed Wallace. “ Thou hast preached,” he said, “and openly taught divers and sundry other great errors and abominable heresies against all the seven sacraments, which for shortness of time I omit and pass over. Whether dost thou grant the aforesaid articles or no, as thou shalt hear them again ?” He then read over the various articles exhibited against him, and asked him whether he granted or denied them. The answer of Wallace was simple, pious, and unaffected. “ I have before given my answers,” said he, “ and I have said nothing contrary to the holy word of God ; and if I have done so, may God judge me, and my own conscience he my accuser. If I am wrong, I would wish to remain till the time in which I shall be better instructed by the holy word. But if you condemn me, my lords, for holding fast the revelation of God, my innocent blood will be required at your hands, and you shall be brought before the judgment- seat of Christ, who is mighty to defend my innocent cause, before whom you shall not deny it, nor yet be able to resist his terrible wrath ; to whom I refer the vengeance, as it is written, 4 Vengeance is mine, and I will repay it, saith the Lord.’ ” But his death was resolved on, and his appeal was in vain. Cast in stern mould- ing, the hearts of his judges felt no pity, but thought they did God service by the death of this amiable man. He was con- demned by Lauder, as an obstinate heretic, and delivered over to the secular power, with the approbation of all the prelates, and the regent of the kingdom. Sir John Campbell of Lundy, justice-deputy, con- demned him to die at the stake, and he was consigned to the custody of the provost of Edinburgh, to he burnt on the Castle-hill the following day. The assembly now broke up, and Wallace was conducted to prison for the night, and bound fast with irons round about his legs and neck. Thus ended the trial of Adam Wallace, in the church of the Black Friars at Edinburgh, the first victim to Hamilton’s cruelty and outrageous zeal for the church. The dignitaries who assembled on this ADAM WALLACE. 67 occasion were men of the greatest influence in the kingdom, whom Hamilton had con- vened by the authority of his brother the regent, that he might make a vain display, and strike terror into the minds of the Re- formers. With the exception of Winram, and the prior of St Andrews, they all heard the sentence with the utmost callousness ; nor did even a sigh of pity escape them at the wretched fate of the unfortunate man. Dead to every feeling of sympathy, they viewed their proceedings with the utmost complacency, and they left the church of the Black Friars in mutual congratula- tions. It was not so, however, with the be- holders. Struck with horror at the cruelty of the sentence, and exasperated at this exhibition of tyranny, they rightly thought that they were again to experience the iron domination of cardinal Beaton, and they feared the result. They concealed their resentment ; but they were the more con- vinced of the injustice of their rulers. Per- secution, in every case, ought to be avoided for religious differences ; but when that persecution extends to the deprivation of life, by a cruel and lingering death, or j indeed by any kind of punishment, much more ought it to be execrated, by every lover of truth, of freedom, and of his country. Great is truth, and it shall pre- vail ; but they who attempt to establish their power by intolerance, and their opinions by the sword of the civil magis- trate, will be eventually disappointed in their expectations, and find themselves miserably mistaken. Shackled with irons, as some vile male- factor, and consigned to a dungeon in the prison of Edinburgh, lay Adam Wallace, the night after his trial, — another victim to popish tyranny and rage. Tempted, but not forsaken, — cast down, but not destroyed, — like the persecuted servants of the Most High in the days of old, he look- ed to heaven while overwhelmed with his sufferings, and found there those consola- tions which the world can neither give nor take away. He had sounded in the ears of his persecutors the denunciation of hea- ven, and well did he know it would be fulfilled : “ Vengeance is mine, and I will i repay it, saith the Lord.” A priest of the name of Hugh Terry had the charge of Wallace for the night; and he, in like manner, adding insult to cruelty, sent two gray friars to instruct him : Wallace refused their instructions, and they quickly departed. Some time after the departure of the gray friars, two black friars, an English friar, and a priest of the name of Abercromby, were sent to him, but the mart}T refused them all, the English friar excepted. With him he would gladly have conversed, and declared his faith in the sacred Scriptures: but the friar answered, that he had no commission to enter into disputation with him, and he and his companions took their leave. The priests, however, were determined if possible to reclaim him, and they seem to have been indefatigable in their exer- tions. The dean of Restalrig visited him shortly after the friars had departed, a man of great learning, and even well instructed in the Scriptures. He gave the martyr Christian consolation, but exhorted him to | believe in the reality of the body of Christ in the sacrament after the consecration. Wallace would not be persuaded. He would assent to nothing but what the Scriptures taught, nor would he believe what he well knew was abominable to God. The dean, seeing his exhortations ! were of no avail, soon left him, grieving also j that he found him so obstinately persisting j in his opinions. Wallace spent the awful night preceding j I his execution in exercises of fervent piety and devotion. He had committed almost j all the Psalms to memory, and he was j SCOTS WORTHIES. 68 continually engaged in praise and prayer. He had been in the practice of carrying his Bible with him wherever he went; but his persecutors, after his condemnation, took it from him, and destroyed it. Terry, his fanatical jailor, behaved to him with the most barbarous violence. Thinking that he still concealed some books about him which contained heretical doctrine, he entered his cell, and searched his person. He found some short addresses written by professors of the reformed doctrines. These Terry took from him, bestowing on him the most unbecoming and abusive epithets, and even tempting him by his provocations. Such was the inhuman conduct of this priest, who obtruded himself on the privacy | of his prisoner, and imbittered the last hours of his life by indecent upbraidings. Such conduct deserves execration; it is worse than savage ; it is like the act of a madman. Wallace was denied the last 1 consolation, and even in a degree hindered from making his peace with heaven, of | which Terry thought, by the act of his I sending priests to instruct him, he stood so i much in need. | Next morning, preparations were made | for the execution of the sentence, which ! was to take place on the Castle-hill in the i afternoon. The whole affair, as we have I already said, was given in charge to the provost of Edinburgh, who seems, in the issue, to have been fully as persecuting in | spirit as his superiors. During the day, ! however, Wallace’s judges left the city, — j the regent, with his brother the archbishop, ! to their respective residences ; and the | bishops and dignitaries of the church to I their several places. Their prisoner was j now in the hands of the civil power; and, j having the authority of the regent for the || sentence, the provost of Edinburgh was accountable for him. Their presence in- | deed was of little avail. The prelates i departed in triumph. They had left behind them a monument of their power, which, they vainly believed, would be salutary to the people, and increase the stability of the church. The dean of Restalrig visited Wallace once more, on the morning of this day, in j the hope that he would find him more ! pliable. But in this he was disappointed. It was in vain that the dean discoursed to him about false doctrine and the danger of his salvation ; it was in vain that he even held out to him hopes that his sentence would be mitigated if he would recant. Wallace answered him again, that he would j say nothing concerning his belief but what j the Scriptures testified ; nor would he be j persuaded of the contrary, even though an angel from heaven should attempt to per- suade him. Nevertheless he felt gratefiil to the dean, and thanked him for the Christian advices he had given him to preserve his fortitude, and he only prayed that his eyes might be opened to behold the light of the truth. TESTIMONY OF ADAM WALLACE. After the dean’s departure, Terry again renewed his violence and insulting lan- guage ; but he was answered at once by Wallace with meekness and resolution. “ You should rather be a godly man,” said he, “ seeing you are a priest, and give me consolation in my case. When I knew you were approaching, I prayed Gcd I might resist your temptations, which, I thank and praise him, he hath enabled me to do ; therefore I pray you let me alone, that I may recollect myself and die in peace.” This reply had the desired effect. Terry, ashamed and confounded, left him, and the martyr sat down, preparing himself ADAM WALLACE. 69 to endure the fiery trial which was await- ing him. The day was now advancing, and he was freed from his irons, and led from his cell into another room. He asked an officer who stood beside him, if the fire was making ready, who told him it was. The martyr replied in the language of resigna- tion, “ As it pleases God,” said he, “ I am ready, sooner or later, as it shall please him.” A number of persons had been by this time admitted into the room, and Wallace, looking around, perceived one of his friends, who, he knew, w r as attached to the Reformers. He accordingly addressed him ; desired that person to commend him to all the faithful professors of God’s word, as he now took leave of them with the certain hope that, if they were faithful unto death, they would meet together in heaven. He said no more, and none spoke to him after that time till he was brought to the stake. The conduct of Wallace is evidently that of manly courage and resignation — but it is more ; it also breathes a spirit of piety and humble trust in God. He seems to have been a man of primitive simplicity ; no murmur escaped his lips ; his trust was in heaven alone. No friends indeed there were around him to grieve for his hapless fate; even his wife was not admitted to take her last farewell ; but he knew that his best and only friend was in heaven — and that the Friend was there who sticketh closer than a brother. The time at length came when the martyr was to be led to the stake, and the officers announced to him that he must now be ready. The provost of Edinburgh, with many threats, prohibited him from addressing the people. He was then bound, and led from the town to the Castle-hill, the scene of his intended martyrdom. As the melancholy procession passed along the street, the spectators frequently called out to Wallace, “ God have mercy on you.” He heard them express their sympathy with gratitude, and exclaimed in reply, “ And on you also my friends.” He now approached the stake ; and while the execu- tioners were preparing it, after lifting up his eyes frequently to heaven in the attitude of devotion, he exclaimed to the people, “ Let it not offend you that I suffer death this day for the truth’s sake ; for the disciple is not greater than his Master.” The pro- vost, who presided at the execution, seeing his prohibition neglected, interrupted him in an angry manner ; and, with the utmost indecency, commanded him to be silent. To him Wallace spoke not in reply ; but the insolence of the magistrate w T ounded him to the soul. Again he turned his eyes to heaven, as if praying for patience ; and then he feebly exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, “ They will not let me speak.” These were his last words. He was quickly tied to the stake, — the fire was lighted; and, enveloped in its flame, the martyr was consumed to ashes, on the 12th of October, 1551. Thus died Adam Wallace, on the Castle- hill of Edinburgh, a venerated martyr for the doctrines of the Reformation ; a man of simple manners, and humble station, but of primitive integrity and fervent piety and zeal ; of no great learning, but sound in his views of religion. 70 SCOTS WORTHIES. WALTER MILL. Walter Mill was born about the year 1476, of parents who were in reputable circumstances. He received his education at the university of Aberdeen, recently founded by bishop Elphingstone. The nation at that time remained secure in its devotion to the church of Rome, being agitated by no heresies, and the prelates, like the Israelites of old, “ doing every one of them that which was right in his own eyes.” The opinions of Luther had not found their way into Scotland, and accord- ingly Mill was educated most rigidly in the popish religion. At the age appointed by the canon law, he received orders ; but he was not connected with any particular monastery. He was shortly afterwards appointed officiating priest of Lunan, in the shire of Angus, or, as it is now called, Forfar. In what manner he first discharged his clerical functions does not appear ; but very proba- bly he was like the rest of his brethren, who were not “ righteous overmuch.” Be this as it may, it is certain that, about the time of the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, he was led to an examination of the opinions for which that noble youth suffered, and in common with many others, this examina- tion ended in conviction of the truth. Mill had no opportunities of conversing with any of the principal reformers ; but he carefully studied the Scriptures, and these soon opened his eyes to a conviction I i of his errors. With all that candour and openness which mark an upright mind, he saw it was his duty to preach the doctrines he now believed, or subject himself to the charge of not being a faithful minister of the New Testament. He accordingly left off celebrating mass, believing it to be gross idolatry, and devoted himself wholly to preaching, and the instruction of his ' hearers. This conduct was too flagrant to escape j notice in those days, and accordingly Mill j was delated to the archbishop of St An- drews, as preaching heretical doctrines. I This was in the year 1538. James Beaton, the cardinal’s uncle, at that time filled the primacy ; and having the cardinal for his adviser, who, in fact, actually governed the see, a citation was sent to Mill, requiring his appearance at St Andrews, to answer certain charges laid against him. The j fate of Patrick Hamilton, however, and others, was before his eyes ; and he thought it most advisable to escape the flames, and j consult his safety by flight. Mill retreated to the Continent, and at last took refuge for a while in Germany, where, by associating with Zuinglius, Oeco- lampadius, and others, he was more fully instructed in the doctrines of the Reforma- tion. While in Germany he occasionally preached, and at length completely sepa- rated himself from the Romish priesthood j by entering into the marriage state. But j WALTER MILL. 71 he did not conceive himself separated from the ministry of the New Testament. He felt his mind glowing with inconceivable ardour, to make known to his countrymen the blessings of that gospel which he had felt so efficacious to his own soul. This feeling is natural to the man who has known that God is gracious. He cannot remain in cowardly ease, while he sees others perishing for lack of knowledge ; and knowing well the infinite value of even one immortal soul, — knowing well that there is joy in heaven over even one sinner that repenteth, — above all, knowing that they who win souls are wise, and they who are the instruments of turning many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever, — he feels the influence of redeeming love on his soul, and he burns with holy ardour in the sacred cause. This is not fanaticism, or religious insanity, as it is called by the world. Is not such a man a believer in the sacred Scriptures? Most assuredly; and he therefore knows that the strongholds of sin must be pulled down, — that there must be war waged with spiritual wickednesses in high places, — that the man of sin must be broken in pieces. How, then, are these things to be accom- plished ? By miracles? No, verily: their age hath for ever passed away. By wondrous interpositions from heaven? No, verily: no more of these shall be seen till the latter days. But by human means doth God now execute whatsoever comes to pass, — means which he hath predestinated as component parts of the event itself. With this feeling, therefore, did Mill return to his native land, about the year 1556. He kept himself at first in retire- ment ; but still he felt it his duty to instruct many secretly in the knowledge of God, and to lift up his voice against the vices of the age. But this could not long escape notice, and as he made himself much more conspicuous by bolder steps, and by pro- claiming truths which were not at all relished by the clergy, they began to turn their attention towards him. He was in- formed, however, of the intentions of the clergy, and he thought it most advisable to change his residence. We are not informed whether his wife came along with him from Germany, or whether she died before he left that country ; the latter is most pro- bably the case. This state of things continued for some time, until the year 1559, when archbishop Hamilton was exasperated at his failure with the protestant nobles to make them dis- miss their preachers. Knowing the circum- stances of the queen-regent, that she found it her interest, though a devoted catholic, to flatter the Reformers, and knowing that he himself was utterly unable to proceed by force against nobles of the greatest influence, the primate felt himself trans- ported beyond all the bounds of modera- tion. The indecent violence he displayed was that of a man lost to all sense of virtue ; and yet he knew not what to do. His enemies the preachers were retained in the castles of the nobility, and to attack , them was to attack the owners themselves. | j He saw it was needless to persecute the ! people, for, first, that was out of his power ; j secondly, they had begun to be as cunning ‘ as himself ; and, lastly, he held them in too ! great contempt. The primate was actually at a loss what to do, or how to gratify his , malignity. Hamilton was no stranger to Mill’s con- duct ; yet, had he got other opportunities of gratifying his rage, in all probability the extreme old age of the martyr, now in his eighty-second year, and his apparent feeble- ness, would have shielded him from the primate’s hostility. But this was not to be the case. Some one informed him that this aged priest was at that time in Dysart, and of him our primate at once determined to make an example. The old process set SCOTS WORTHIES. 72 i on foot by cardinal Beaton was revived against Mill, and, after a vigilant search for him, he was at last apprehended, at the instance of the archbishop, by Sir George Strachan and Sir Hugh Torry, in the town of Dysart in Fife. He was immediately carried to the city of St Andrews, and committed a close prisoner there. As the primate conceived that his public recantation might be of as much benefit to the church as his death, he was indefatiga- ble at first in endeavouring to persuade him. The priests therefore beset him, and at first threatened him with the most horrible tortures if he would not recant ; but finding these unavailing, and that the constancy of the martyr was not to be shaken by such means, they at length tried flattery, promising him a residence in the abbey of Dunfermline for life, if he would [ Abbey of Dunfermline, 15W.J sign his recantation. This measure was attended with little better success, and accordingly it was determined to proceed against him according to the laws of the church. The martyr knew well his fate ; but he preserved a marvellous constancy. He knew in whom he had believed, and his faith supported him under every trial. Let us proceed, then, to delineate the last mo- ments of a man, “ out of whose ashes,” says Fox, in his simple manner, “ sprang thou- sands of his religion and opinions in Scot- land, who altogether chose rather to die than to be any longer over-trodden by the i tyrannie of the foresayed cruell and igno- j rant bischops, abbots, monks, and friars, j and so began the congregation of Scotland to debate the true religion of Christ against the Frenchmen and the papists, who sought { alwaies to depresse and keepe downe the j same ; for it began soone after the martyr- | dome of Walter Mille, of which the form | hereafter folio we th.” With secret complacency did archbishop Hamilton contemplate the effect of the ! execution of Mill. He imagined he saw j the protestant preachers mute with conster- j nation, the friends of the Reformation trembling for their safety, and the church j and his own power acquiring fresh stability, j ! But he was soon convinced of the falsity j of his speculations ; and he had the mortifi- cation to know, that, had he been more j moderate, he might, humanly speaking, have longer retained his power, and not rendered himself so obnoxious to the people as to hasten his own destruction. Mill having resolutely refused to recant, j an assembly of the clergy was accordingly ! summoned to proceed against him. This j assembly was composed of various digni- I taries. The archbishop presided in person, j and beside him were seated the bishops of j Moray, Brechin, Caithness, &c.; the abbots of Dunfermline, Lindores, Cupar ; various doctors of theology in the university; John Grierson, black friar; John Winram, sub- 1 prior of the abbey; William Cranston, sub-prior of the old college, and others con- nected with the city.^ Mill w r as ordered to be taken from prison, and brought before them. The prelates assembled in the metro- politan church, and there was the martyr brought to his trial, on the 20th day of April, 1559. His appearance being that WALTER MILL. 73 of a poor and feeble old man, he excited in the minds of the spectators universal com- miseration ; and so helpless did he appear, that it was doubted by many whether he would be able to make his defence. He was commanded to get into a pulpit pre- pared for the occasion, but he was so infirm as to require assistance. He looked around him, nothing dismayed at the assem- bly, and then sunk on his knees, offering up his fervent prayers to the God of all consolation. A priest, named Sir Andrew Oliphant, soon commanded him with little ceremony to rise and answer to the charges laid against him. The martyr obeyed ; but he spoke in a voice which astonished the beholders, and dismayed his accusers. “ Sir Walter Mill,” cried Oliphant, “ arise, give answers to the articles ; for you keep my lord the archbishop here too long.” Mill beheld him with a smile of pity. “We ought to obey God,” replied he, “ rather than man. I serve one more powerful, even the Al- mighty God; and whereas you are wont to call me Sir Walter, call me not so now. I have been too long one of the pope’s knights.- — Now, say what thou pleasest.” The examination, which is exceedingly curious, we shall quote from Fox, who says he received it ex testimoniis et Uteris e Scotia petitis. It affords a specimen of Mill’s natural brevity and acuteness of remark ; while, at the same time, it shows the injustice of the priests in bringing men to trial with whom they never fairly argued. It was conducted by Oliphant, who be- gan his interrogations with the following question : “ What thinkest thou of priests’ mar- riage ?” “ I hold it a blessed band,” replied Mill, “for Christ himselfe maintained it, and approved the same, and also made it free to all men ; but you thinke it not free to you ; ye abhore it, and in the mean tyme, take other men’s wives and daughters, and will not keepe the band that God hath made. Yee vow chastitie, and break the same. Sainte Paul had rather marrie than burne ; the which I have done, for God | never forbade marriage, to any man, of what state or degree soever he be.” “ Thou sayest, ” continued Oliphant, “ there bee not seven sacraments ?’ ? “ Give me the Lord’s Supper and Bap- tisme, and take you the reste, and part them among you, for if there bee seven, why have you omitted one of them, to wit, marriage, and give yourselves to slanderous and ungodly whoredom ?” “ Thou art against the blessed sacra- ment of the altar, and saiest, that the masse is wronge, and is idolatrie ?” “ A lord or a king,” replied Mill, “sendeth and calleth manie to a dinner, and when the dinner is in readines, hee causeth to ring the bell, and the men come to the j hall, and site down, to be partakers of the | dinner, but the lord, turninge his backe j upon them, eateth all himselfe, and so do yee.” “ Thou deniest the sacrament of the altar to be the very bodie and blood of Christ?” “ The Scripture of God is not to be taken carnallie but spirituallie, and standeth I in fayth onlie ; and as for the masse it is wrong, for Christ was once offered on the crosse for man’s trespasse, and will never be offered againe, for then he ended all j sacrifice.” “ Thou deniest the office of a bishop ?” “ I affirmethat they whom yee call bishops do no bishop’s workes, nor use the office of a bishop, as Paul biddeth, writing to Timothy, but live after their own sensuall pleasure, and take no care of the flocke, nor yet regard they the word of God, but desire to be honoured, and called my lords.” K SCOTS WORTHIES. 74 “ Thou speakest against pilgrimage, and callest it a pilgrimage to whoredome ?” “ I affirm and say, that it is not com- manded in the Scriptures, and that there is no greater whoredome in any place than at your pilgrimages, except it bee in com- mon brothels.” “ Thou preachest secretlie and privatelie in houses, and openlie in the fields ?” “ Yea, man, and on the sea also, sayling in a ship.” “ Wilt thou not recant thy erroneous opinions ? And if thou wilt not, I will pronounce sentence against thee.” “ I am accused for my life, and therefore, as Christ said to Judas, Quod fads , fac dtius. Yee shall know that I will not recant the truth; for I am corn, I am no chaffe : I will not be blowne away with the winde, nor burst with the flaile. But I will abide both.” Thus ended the examination, and it may be easily conceived how these answers would aggravate the martyr’s offence in the eyes of his persecutors. It is to be remarked, that they do not attempt to argue with him, or endeavour to set him right as to his “ erroneous opinions ;” on the contrary, they go from one article to another, without making the smallest re- mark on any one point. This, however, is the nature of Roman Catholicism, which cannot bear an investigation by the standard of truth. Fox informs us, that his persecutors rehearsed those things on purpose, “together with other light trifles, to augment their small accusations.” The patience of the reverend prelates was now exhausted, and Oliphant was commanded to pronounce sentence against the aged martyr, deliver- ing him over to the secular power to suffer death as an obstinate heretic. The boldness and fervent piety of Mill, however, together with his venerable ap- pearance, excited all the sympathetic feel- ings of the beholders. The whole city of St Andrews was unanimous in his favour, and to so great a degree did this feeling prevail, that the archbishop could not get a civil judge to condemn him. The steward of his regality, and provost of the city, called Patrick Learmont, much to his honour, refused to lend his countenance to the procedure, and, to avoid the odium of the transaction, precipitately left the city. Even the archbishop’s chamberlain would not consent to condemn him, “ and the whole towne was so offended with his unjust con- demnation, that the bishop’s servants could not get for their money so much as one cord to tie him to the stake, or a tarre j barrell to burne him, but were constrained j j to cut the cords of their master’s owne pavilion to serve their turn.”* The prelates were now put to a stand, and they knew not what to do. The | archbishop, however, was resolved on his ! death, and at length he most illegally pre- j vailed by bribery on a domestic of his own, j named Alexander Sommerville, to act as a j temporal judge. The stake was prepared on the very day of his condemnation ; and by this worthless domestic of Hamilton, the venerable martyr was led forth to re- ceive the crown of glory. TESTIMONY OF WALTER MILL. He was guarded by a band of armed men, accompanied by Oliphant and other priests. Oliphant desired the martyr to proceed to the stake, for he had halted when he came within sight of it; but he replied, “ No ; yet if thou wilt put me up j * Fox, vol. ii. fol. edit. 1631, p. 626; Spottis- woode, p. 96. WALTER MILL. with thy hand, and take part in my death, thou shalt see me go to the stake gladly ; but, by the law of God, I am forbidden to lay violent hands on myself.” The fanatical priest then pushed the martyr rudely for- ward with his hands, and he willingly went with the most heroic fortitude, saying, Introibo ad altare Dei. Mill then desired to address the people, but Oliphant peremp- torily forbade him, saying, That the bishops were already offended at his much speaking. This rudeness, however, offended some of the spectators, who felt the utmost sympathy for the helpless fate of the vene- rable and unhappy sufferer. They pitied his condition, and were enraged at Oli- phant’s cruelty. Abhorring the injustice of the bishops, they exclaimed with a loud voice, that they believed the priests would ye.t lament that day, and desired him to say what he pleased. The firmness of this expostulation, and the threat which it conveyed, awed the persecutors. Encouraged by this liberty, the aged priest sank on his knees in prayer to heaven, and then rising, he stood on the coals, and addressed the spectators. “ Dear friends, ’ said he, “ the cause why I suffer this day is not for any crime, although I am a miserable sinner before God, but only for the defence of the faith of Jesus Christ set forth unto us in the Old and New Testaments; for which, as the faithful martyrs have offered themselves gladly before, being assured after their death, of the eternal felicity of their bodies, so this day I praise God, that he hath called me of his mercy among the rest of his servants to seal his truth with my life ; which, as I have received it of him, I willingly offer it to his glory. Therefore, as you would escape the eternal death, be no longer seduced by the lies of priests, monks, friars, priors, abbots, and popish bishops, and the rest of the sect of antichrist, but depend 75 only upon Jesus Christ and his mercy, that ye may be delivered from condemna- tion.” This speech made a deep impression, de- livered as it was amid the tears and groans of the multitude. Then turning to his persecutors, he thus addressed them : “ I marvel at your rage, ye hypocrites, in thus persisting to persecute the servants of the living God ; but hundreds shall rise out of my ashes, who shall chase you from your temples of iniquity, and establish the true faith of Jesus Christ. I trust in God, I shall be the last who shall die for the truth in Scotland in this manner.” He was now drawn up to the stake, and the fire was quickly lighted. While the flames were raging about his body, he was heard expressing himself with the most heroic fortitude, and continually commend- ing his soul to God. His last words were, “ Lord have mercy on me : Pray, pray, good people, while there is time.” And thus, like another Elijah, he winged his fiery flight to heaven, to the bosom of his Father and his God, on the 20th of April, 1559. So much did his fortitude and constancy affect the people, that they heaped up a great pile of stones on the place where he was burned, that the memory of his death might be preserved ; but the priests gave orders to have it taken down and carried away, denouncing a curse on any who should lay stones there again. This ana- thema, however, was so little regarded, that what was thrown down in the day- time was raised again during the night, till at last the papists carried away the stones to build houses about the town, which they did with all possible secrecy. The death of this martyr brought about the downfall of popery in Scotland; for the people, in general, were so much in- flamed, that, resolving openly to profess the truth, they bound themselves with pro- 76 SCOTS WORTHIES. mises and subscriptions of oaths, that before they would be thus abused any longer, they would take up arms and resist the papal tyranny ; which at last they were compelled to do before the Reformation j was completely established. JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. This nobleman was the illegitimate son of James V., king of Scotland, by a lady of a noble and ancient family, Margaret Erskine, daughter of John, fifth earl of Mar, and fourth lord Erskine of that surname. James V. had six natural children. His sons he intended for the church, and accord- ingly he enriched his coffers by conferring on them wealthy benefices as they became vacant, and by this means becoming entitled to their revenues while the possessors of them were under age. The priory of St Andrews, at this time vacant, was assigned to this son, then only three years of age. This presentation entitled James to receive the revenues. It was almost as wealthy as the primacy, and it was the next in dignity. The priors of St Andrews were entitled to wear splendid robes and ecclesias- tical ornaments on solemn occasions, and to precede all other dignitaries of equal rank. The history of the prior’s juvenile years, and the manner of his education, are un- known ; even the exact time and place of his birth are not recorded. It has been lately discovered, on the authority of bishop Leslie, that he was born in 1532, or, according to our computation, 1533. It may be remarked, however, that he at an early age manifested those talents for which the house of Stuart was distinguish- ed. As soon as he became of age, he felt that the idleness and monotony of the eccle- siastical life did not suit his inclinations, and he looked with dislike on a profession which doomed him to inglorious ease. In April, 1548, Scotland was invaded by lord Grey de Wilton, on which occasion Haddington was taken and fortified, and the adjacent country laid waste. At the same time, lord Clinton, the English admi- ral, sailed into the estuary of the Forth with a fleet, and made a descent on the coast of Fife. On this occasion happened the first adventure of the prior, who was now sixteen years of age. He was then residing in Fife, probably near St Andrews, and as he felt a repugnance towards the ecclesiastical profession, he resolved to em- brace the opportunity of displaying his valour. The English, under Clinton, had advanced a considerable way into the country, having met with no opposition ; but a few devoted individuals, under the young prior, laid an ambuscade for them on their return, into which they fell; and, after a considerable slaughter, they regain- ed their boats with great difficulty. This was the prior’s first exploit, in which he JEDH THE O-HIGIHAE IS' HOLYHOOD HOUSE , STDINBTJB-GH Macgr^cir, Polscm & C° Glasgow * JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. displayed no small personal courage and knowledge of military tactics. The young queen about this time went to the French dominions, accompanied by a numerous retinue ; her brother the prior, who was then in his seventeenth year, also joined her suite. He is said to have remained in France for some time. But | even at this early age, his abilities were peculiarly manifested, and his enemies have paid him an unwitting compliment. It has been asserted that about this time he entered into an engagement of a secret nature with the English government to promote a conspiracy, yet the charge has never been proved by any satisfactory evidence, and there are no authentic docu- ments on the subject. It is uncertain how long he remained in France. He went thither with Mary in 1548; we find him in Scotland in 1549 ; and again at Paris in 1552. The probability is, that he made several journeys to that country ; at all events, the circumstance of his having been in England at that period, and the hospi- tality with which he was received by the English sovereign, are the sole sources of this feeble calumny. A youth of seventeen years of age, entering into a conspiracy as the agent of a foreign government, while at the same time he was without influence at home, unknown, and disregarded, is too ridiculous to be supposed for a mo- ment. As the prior grew up, his antipathy to- wards the ecclesiastical profession increased, and he seems to have regarded his priory merely as a temporal inheritance, the prin- cipal concerns of it being managed by the sub-prior, the celebrated John Winram. He paid no attention to the synods of the clergy, in which he held no inconsiderable place ; and he is said still farther to have manifested his dislike to the life of a priest, by his entertaining thoughts of a matrimo- nial alliance. The heiress of Buchan was 77 the lady chosen, and there is a curious j document extant — a mutual contract en- tered into by the relations of both parties, that the prior, or one of his brothers, should fulfil the intended marriage when the lady was twelve years of age. In the intrigues which took place be- I tween the party of the queen-mother and ! that of the regent, to deprive him of his 1 j office, the prior seems to have taken no I concern. It is not unlikely that he was in j F ranee during this period, for it would appear that he became reconciled to the French, whom he at first thought proper to dislike : and his near relationship to the royal family, gave him considerable patronage in all their concerns. In addition to the wealthy priory of St Andrews, he acquired the priory of Pittenweem, and several other j benefices, both at home and abroad. He accepted of the rich priory of Mascon in ! France, in commendam , with a dispensa- i j tion to hold three benefices, notwithstand- ing his illegitimacy : and for these favours | he took an oath of fealty to pope Paul III. in 1544. It appears from the act of council 1555, that a fort was commanded to be built at Kelso, with the view, perhaps, of forming a line of strength along the boundaries of the Scottish kingdom. For this purpose, a tax of £20,000 Scots (about £1600 Sterling), was imposed, one half of which was to be levied from the church. The prior superintended the fort ; and in July, 1557, with a force collected chiefly from Mid Lothian, and with a few pieces of artillery, he made a sudden irruption into England, accompanied by his brother lord Robert Stuart, abbot of Holyrood-house, afterwards earl of Orkney, and lord Home. But they as suddenly returned, without performing any considerable achievement, or occasioning any material damage. The prior, to be relieved from all the peculiar restraints attached to the clerical I I 78 SCOTS WORTHIES. 1 profession, as soon as the marriage of Mary ! with the dauphin was celebrated, solicited Mary for the earldom of Moray. The last earl, a natural son of James IV., by a daughter of lord Kennedy, had died at the castle of Tarnaway, on the 12th of June, ! 1544, and, from the nature of the Scottish i law, the earldom had reverted to the crown. Its administration was conferred on the earl of Huntly, who had succeeded cardinal Beaton, in the office of lord high chancellor. Huntly was one of the most powerful of the northern chiefs, and the earldom was consigned to his charge, by a charter dated 13th February, 1548 — 9. He was, however, deprived some time after of the earldom ; but for what cause cannot he ascertained. On the prior’s application, Mary, by the advice of her mother, refused the demand, advised him rather to continue in the church, and offered him a bishopric either in France or Scotland. He rejected the proposal, and, offended at the officiousness of the queen regent, from this, it is said, though without evidence, proceeded his future opposition to her government. As soon as the marriage of the queen with the dauphin was celebrated, the French court evinced their perfidious in- tentions, by making demands of a most extraordinary nature. They had first allured the queen to sign certain docu- ments, in their nature subversive of Scot- tish independence, and, after the rejoicings were ended, the commissioners were re- quested by the chancellor of France to deliver to the dauphin the regalia of Scot- land, that the prince might be crowned king of that nation. The ambassadors replied, that they had received no com- mands from the parliament respecting these matters. The firm but respectful answer of the 1 prior and his colleagues, discovered to the French that they would consent to nothing which might tend to produce any alteration 1 in the order of succession to the crown. They were speedily dismissed from the court, and they prepared to embark for Scotland, with the pleasing idea that they had not sacrificed their country’s independ- ence. But, before they embarked, four of the commissioners, and many of their re- tinue, suddenly died, and it is currently reported, that the French had revenged themselves by administering poison to them. The suspicion was the stronger, as there was at that time no pestilential dis- temper raging in the country ; “ and even Mezeray, the French historian,” says Keith, “ seems to assent to the suspicion of poison, by the contrivance of the duke of Guise and his brother, lest these commissioners should put a bar to their intended measures against this kingdom.” The prior of St Andrews, it is said, also tasted of the same potion, and escaped death only from his vigorous constitution. But the baneful effects produced a complaint to which he ever afterwards was subject. Lindsay oi Pitscottie says, “ that the physicians hung up the prior by the heels, to let the poison drop out of him.” The remaining deputies arrived safely at Montrose, and they immediately proceeded to Edinburgh, where a parliament was summoned on the 29th September, 1558, and there were assembled seven bishops, sixteen abbots, thirteen earls, fifteen lords, two masters, and ten for the boroughs. | Notwithstanding the caution and reluctance ! displayed by the Scottish deputies, the 1 French faction, under the influence of the 1 1 queen-regent, ventured to move the demand in parliament. The duke of Chatelherault was the next heir to the crown, failing Mary and her issue. The dauphin’s right being thus incomplete, the French court made a formal demand, in name of the dauphin, for the crown matrimonial, or rather a right to the revenues of the queen while she lived, and after her decease. The JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 79 parliament refused, and expressly limited his right during the queen’s life. The duke of Chatelherault protested in form against the whole procedure ; but he, as the leader of a party, was too feeble and irresolute to withstand the influence of the queen -regent, who had supplanted him in the government. That crafty princess so managed the whole affair, as to make the French demands seem of little consequence. The parliament at once consented to this dangerous en- croachment of power ; and the prior of St Andrews and the earl of Argyle were deputed to represent the nation, and to invest the dauphin with the matrimonial crown. The protestants had favoured the measure, to oppose the archbishop of St Andrews and his party ; while the dexter- ous management of the queen-regent gave her an influence in the parliament which she would not otherwise have possessed. The queen-regent had succeeded in her plans to the utmost of her wishes, and she had now no motives to interest her in the protestants, who had cordially joined her in Mary’s marriage, in opposition to the de- signs of Chatelherault and the Hamilton party. The prior and Argyle, though they were deputed to invest the dauphin with the crown-matrimonial, never went on their embassy. The Reformation had made a rapid pro- gress in Scotland after the murder of cardinal Beaton, and the more frequent intercourse wflth England tended very much to its extension. The reformers were everywhere opposed by the church and by the state ; and the queen-regent now en- deavoured to destroy a party whose friend- ship she had carefully cultivated, till she had accomplished her secret purposes. The reformers formed an association, which is known in history by the name of the Congregation. They firmly remonstrated against the tyranny and oppression of the clergy; the abuses of the church, the whole _ fabric of superstition. Matters were ap- proaching to a crisis, and the nation was divided into two great parties, between which there was nothing but open warfare. It was at Perth the queen-regent feared the hazard of a battle with men whose religious fervour made them superior to fear. She had recourse to negotiation. The prior was in her army, and, though he had not forgotten her officiousness when he was refused the earldom of Moray, and was disposed to favour a cause for which he had discovered an early predilection, he continued with her, probably from scrupu- lous notions of allegiance, and in the hope that he might be able to serve his friends by moderate counsel. He was sent, along with the earl of Argyle and lord Semple, to inquire whether the confederates intend- ed actually to rebel. The reforming lords returned an unsatisfactory answer. The queen then summoned them to surrender and disperse, under pain of treason. They replied to the Lyon-herald, that they had convened to deliver the town from the tyranny of the regent ; but if she would permit them the free exercise of their religion, they and all their followers would instantly depart at her command. Another conference was held ; and, in the meantime, Glencairn arrived, having marched his army day and night through the most rugged and almost impassable defiles, and having with great sagacity eluded various detachments of the royal troops sent out to intercept him. The regent soon got notice of his approach. She had now to contend with 7000 men, animated by the most powerful religious enthusiasm, and whose attack she feared would be irresistible. She knew well, that, if she hazarded a battle, and was defeated, her power and the church would receive a deadly blow. Again the prior, Argyle, and the abbot of Kilwinning, were sent to negotiate. They were met by Glencairn, Erskine of Dun, j 80 SCOTS WORTHIES. j John Knox, and John Willox, another 1 preacher. Knox bitterly reproached the j prior and his friends for not joining the ; congregation; accusing them of infidelity because they took no part with them, when i it was well known that they countenanced their proceedings. This they acknowledged | to be true ; hut they said that they had promised to the regent to attempt a recon- I ciliation, and they would not falsify their [ honour ; adding, however, that if the regent | kept not the proposed treaty, they would i desert her without fail. An agreement j was made, she was put in possession of the j town, and the confederates dispersed, after | having been edified by a sermon from Knox, of no ordinary length and vehemence, j Although, however, he was pacific in the ■ midst of his rhetoric, he procured a new associating bond to be drawn out before their dispersion, as he was assured, he said, I that no part of the queen’s promise would ■ be long kept. This bond is known in j history by the name of the “ second cove- I nant,” and was solemnly signed by the | prior and Argyle, though they still remain- ed with the queen, by Glencairn, lord Boyd, lord Ochiltree, and Matthew Camp- bell, in the name of the whole confederates. Knox’s assertions were too soon verified. In two days all the regent’s promises were i broken. She entered the town, garrisoned ! it with French soldiers, and fined or banished the inhabitants. The civil autho- rities were deposed, and others elected friendly to the church. Then for the first time she was deserted by the prior. He immediately joined the congregation, to whom he was no small acquisition. It is to be regretted that the increase of the congregation had the usual character of popular commotion. Forgetting all mode- ration to those who believed not as them- selves, they marched in triumph through Fife, committing excesses which, though the reaction of the tyranny they had en- dured, disgraced the sacred cause in which they were associated. On the 11th of June, 1560, the regent died. Her death, which was peaceful and affecting, made little impression on either party. After her decease, a temporary government was settled. In August, 1560, the celebrated parliament met which estab- lished the Reformation, and in it the prior j was appointed one of the lords of the Articles. He was one of the chief actors in the war carried on between the confede- rated reformers and the queen-regent. But while he and his friends were employed in strengthening their cause — while they were | still in suspense, dreading unforeseen dis- tractions and calamities, filled with alarm (notwithstanding their exultation in the ' overthrow of popery and the countenance of Elizabeth) that the popish party were not altogether annihilated, and that their resources could not save them from do- mestic strife, or the attacks of their power- ful enemies, — in consequence of the death of Francis I. of France, other political objects were developed : the tie which united France and Scotland was now com- j pletely broken. No sooner was the death of Francis, I Mary’s husband, known in Scotland, than J a council of the nobility was appointed to | be held at Edinburgh, on the 15th of January, 1561. The council met, accord- ing to appointment; they were all, of course, protestants, who, in the parliament of the former year, had achieved the downfall of the popish hierarchy. After j some deliberation, lord James Stuart, prior of St Andrews, the queen’s brother, was commissioned to repair to France, , and to persuade the queen to return to ! her own kingdom. The prior complied, : but he was particularly cautioned by the reformers as to his negociations on the ,| catholic worship. They enjoined him, JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 81 after he had condoled with his sister, to declare to her, that the performance of the ! mass could not he tolerated in the kingdom, either in public or in private ; and they took care to make him sensible, that if he did consent, he would betray the cause of God, and expose religion to the utmost danger. The prior, however, although he was zealous enough in the cause of the Reformation, was by no means inclined to act so honestly, as to offend his sovereign by presuming to dictate to her. His reply to this injunction was short but expressive. “ I shall never consent,” said he, “that mass shall he performed in public; but if the queen wishes to have it done in her own apartment, who will dare to prohibit her ?” The answer of the prior was perfectly consistent with the indisputable right of every human being to worship God accord- ing to the dictates of conscience. But as the exercise of any office in a state, supposes certain duties to he performed, and failing in performance, an individual is not eligible for such office : it therefore became neces- sary, as the ruler of a reformed nation, and for the protection of the rights of her subjects, that the queen should cease to make profession of the ancient faith. It was indeed a most unpropitious prospect held out to Mary, on her return to her native land; and Knox and his friends seem not to have relished the answer of the prior. In the margin of his “ His- toric, ” the reader is told to “note the liberality of the earle Murray,” and to “note this diligently;” and the reformer, after narrating the circumstance, abruptly says, “ The danger was shown, and so he [the prior] departed.” The papists, likewise, as if not to be outdone by their enemies in professions of loyalty to their sovereign, despatched an able commissioner to France. The celebrated and learned John Leslie, the historian, and afterwards bishop of Ross, was appointed to represent Mary’s catholic subjects ; to assure her of their respect and loyal affection, and to warn her against the prior’s insinuating manners, as his sole intention, according to their political fore- sight, was to seize the government. Both these ambassadors left Scotland at the same time, and took different routes. Leslie, who was vicar-general and official of Aberdeen, sailed directly from that city: the prior, with a retinue uncommonly numerous, departed from Edinburgh, with the intention to proceed through England, and accomplish the journey by land. Hav- ing some business, either of a public or a private nature, to transact at the English court, he was honourably received and entertained by Elizabeth ; and of this cir- cumstance, as we shall presently see, his enemies have unfairly taken advantage. Both ambassadors, however, wishing to get the start of each other, made all possible despatch ; but Leslie, who was a man of prudence and address, having anticipated the prior, arrived the day before his oppo- nent; and, finding Mary at Vitry, in Cham- pagne, there tendered to her his homage. Mary received the ecclesiastic with dignity and respect, and Leslie immediately unfold- ed to her the nature of his embassy. He explained to the queen in glowing language the secret ambition of the prior her natural brother, that his great object was to seize the crown, — he warned her against his insidious eloquence and deceitful proposals, j because he had resolved to dissuade her from bringing French soldiers into Scot- land, by which he would be enabled to strike a fatal and irrecoverable blow against the catholic religion: he declared to her, that the prior supported the opinions of the protestants, not because he cared for them, but because he could render the protestants subservient to his ambition, — that the whole of the priors conduct was merely political, — that he wished, from motives of L policy, to extirpate the Roman catholic religion out of the kingdom, as to it he had uniformly displayed the most inveterate hostility, — that his only desire was to rise to power and magnificence, and that his ambitious eyes were already fixed on the crown and sceptre, — and he (Leslie) there- fore advised the queen to procure the prior’s confinement in France, as consistent with her own security, until she had re-establish- ed the ancient order of church and state in her kingdom ; hut if she was averse to this measure, he advised her to comply with the advice of her loyal triends, and not to trust herself among the reformers, especially among those with whom the late rebellion had originated, but to land in the north of Scotland, where she would find an army of twenty thousand men, with the earl of Huntly and other noblemen at their head, ready to escort her to Edinburgh. The prior arrived the following day, and was introduced to his sister at St Dizier, in the neighbourhood of Vitry. He was soon informed of the conversation between her and Leslie, but he had sufficient com- mand over himself to treat it with neglect. He knew well that many had attempted to prejudice Mary’s mind towards him, and though he had good cause to be exasper- ated at Leslie’s advice to put him in con- finement, he nevertheless conducted himself with his wonted prudence. Mary received her brother with the utmost apparent kind- ness ; and, though he had lost her favour during the life of her husband for his conduct in the reformed cause, she felt it prudent to show no appearance of resentment. Though the prior took no notice of Leslie’s counsels, yet they prompted him to act with more decision. He informed her, that nothing was more ardently desired by her subjects, than her return to her own king- dom, — that she needed no foreign aid; for she would find the nation willinq; and obedient, — that she would be supported on her throne by the best defence, the affec- tions of her subjects, who, he well knew, would receive her in the most affectionate manner, — that the great object which she ought to have in view was the national welfare, and the preservation of that tran- quillity which had so lately been restored. He also informed her, that a standing army and foreign troops were utterly obnoxious to the genius and disposition of the nation, — that “ these expedients, at all times dangerous, would, in the present situation of affairs, excite the most dangerous com- motions, — that it was by far more prudent to confide in the generosity of her people ; and he therefore entreated her to revisit them without guards and without soldiers, and he became solemnly bound to secure to her their obedience.” Mary heard the prior throughout with the utmost attention ; and trusting to his apparent sincerity, she tenderly embraced him, and committed herself to his counsels. Pleased with the prior, and feeling to- j wards him the affection of a sister, the j young and enthusiastic Mary confided in | his professions, conscious of the rectitude of : j her own mind ; and happy indeed would it ! J have been for her, had she suffered herself j to have been implicitly guided by his coun- I sels in after life. She displayed all the affection which the prior could wish, nor j were his professions of regard and attach- ! ! ment wanting in return. Accompanying ! her to Joinville, he cultivated still farther her kindness and favour, and he again renewed his application for the earldom of Moray, which had lain dormant since the death of the last earl, a son of James IV., and which had been previously refused j! him during the life of the queen-regent, who feared his ambition, and dreaded his |j talents and address. Mary either gave him her promise, or told him that it would be considered on her arrival in Scotland. | Nevertheless, he was gratified by her J JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 83 flattering reception, and he now began to entertain thoughts of returning home, that he might prepare the nation to receive their sovereign. The prior attended the queen, in the preparations for her voyage, to Joinville, a seat belonging to the house of Guise, and, after remaining there a short time, he re- turned home, taking his route through England. He was undoubtedly unpopular in Paris ; for the catholics had not forgotten his opposition to the regent, and the con- spicuous part he had sustained in the destruction of the Romish hierarchy in Scotland. The prior left Mary before her embark- ation, and proceeded home through England, with the intention, as Knox has it, of pre- paring Mary’s subjects to receive her with affection. While in England, the prior saw Elizabeth and her ministers ; and this has given occasion to his enemies to vilify him without measure. We are gravely told by many historians, that the anxiety of Elizabeth to intercept Mary originated in the advice of the prior and Maitland of Lethington, — that the English fleet was sent out by their advice, “ for James the bastard,” says Stranguage, “ very lately returned by England, had secretly advised queen Elizabeth to take Mary by the way, if she (Elizabeth) had a desire to provide for her religion and her own security; and Lethington, being glad that D’Ossel was detained in England, persuaded it also.” Camden, too, writes in the same strain, as do various other authors ; and truly, were it possible" to believe that the prior suggest- ed this scheme, “ he would deservedly be regarded as having been one of the basest and most unprincipled of men.” But it must be remarked, that there is not the least shadow of even circumstantial evi- dence to support the charge ; and, without evidence of the most satisfactory and un- doubted nature, it would be absurd and ridiculous to believe it. Goodall, indeed, dogmatically and firmly asserts it ; but so superficial and irrelevant are his authorities and observations, and to so great a degree does he carry his hatred towards the prior, in order to establish his own extravagant hypothesis, that all his assertions must go for nothing. The truth is, even granting that the prior was crafty and ambitious, which he undoubtedly was, notwithstanding his patriotism, he had at this time no motive to induce him to such a procedure, or thus to have acted the part of a vile and unnatural traitor. He had just been in France, and had conferred with the queen his sister, — he had made the most solemn declarations of loyalty, and had been re- ceived with the utmost favour, — he had the assurance that Mary would be guided by his counsels, and even that he would be raised to the helm of government ; it was not, in truth, his interest that Mary should be intercepted, as all his hopes and projects would have been annihilated, — the country would have been rent by factions, — and the humble and solitary voice of the prior, aided though he might have been even by all the zealous rhetoric of the reformers, would have been put to silence by the more powerful and adventurous nobles, with the turbulent Chatelherault and the powerful house of Hamilton at their head. His ambition, indeed, could not have been gratified in any way. It is insinuated that he aspired to the crown, and that this was the motive which induced him thus to counsel Elizabeth. But, granting this for a moment, what follows ? Either the prior must have been a fool or a miserable poli- tician, with neither of which characters his enemies have ever charged him. He could not obtain the crown during the life of his sister, even though she had been closely confined by Elizabeth ; the right of succes- sion could not be altered, especially when Mary had done nothing to cause such an 1 i ! 84 SCOTS WORTHIES. 1 act ; nor could Elizabeth inflict death on Mary, when the only tiling alleged against the Scottish queen was her refusal to ratify the treaty of Edinburgh. It is evident, we think, from the whole aspect of the times, that the interception of the queen would have completely ruined the prior’s interest, I and that his enemies have merely laid hold of the fact of his passing through England on his return home, to fasten on him the whole odium of Elizabeth’s pro- j cedure. 1 In her zeal for the due administration | of the laws, Mary advanced the prior to be | lord-lieutenant and chief justiciary. The i borders were in a state of turbulence, and : | thither the prior directed an expedition in person. Two criminal courts were held ij by him, the one at Jedburgh, the other at Dumfries, and the military retainers from || no less than eleven counties were com- | manded to attend him at the former town, j and to remain there for twenty days, j The borders, in those days, were infested j by armed banditti, who committed the most lawless depredations, and whom suc- cess had made insolent and intolerable. Far removed from the influence of the two j courts, dwelling on the debateable ground , ! which had been the scene of many a strife of death in preceding ages, the inhabitants i associated together in feudal dependencies, under leaders ferocious, barbarous, and ungovernable. Attacking their enemies j when they pleased, they subsisted entirely by rapine and robbery ; nor did they ever 1 retreat from the objects of their attack without leaving terrible marks of their !j inroads and devastations. To restrain such freebooters was a matter of no small im- portance ; more especially as, from their knowledge of the country, they could re- treat to the fastnesses, and at least for a time elude the vigilance of justice. The military skill of the prior was profound, j his courage in high esteem, and the pru- | dence which he had uniformly displayed in all his warlike operations, had ensured to him a boundless popularity. In order that he might be assisted against the border banditti, a strong military force was order- ed to attend him, raised from the above number of counties ; for as yet the advan- tages of a standing army were unknown. ' In this expedition, his success corresponded to his abilities, and his administration of i justice was most severe. He destroyed i many of the strongholds of the freebooters ; he executed twenty of the most notorious offenders, and sent fifty more to the capital, to undergo the punishments of the law. At Kelso, he had a conference with the English wardens, lord Grey and Sir John Foster; and they mutually made some salu- ; tary regulations for the preservation of the public tranquillity. The prior was doubtless the great leader of the reformers, and his presence and I influence were powerful checks to the fallen ; ecclesiastics. The distinguished share which he had taken in the wars of the congregation, and the opposition which he had shown to the arbitrary encroachments of the civil government, early distinguished [p him as a popular leader, and he had secured the universal applause of the people. It has been said, or insinuated, on the autho- rity of various partial historians, that his i commission to quell the border tumults was appointed by the queen, in the hope ! that he might there fall a sacrifice to his 1 bravery ; but no part of Mary’s conduct justifies such an insinuation. It is, however, certain, that, though the queen had no ob- ject to serve by such a design, as the very man would have been destroyed in whom she placed the greatest confidence; yet the prior’s virulent enemies, the catholics, would have heartily rejoiced had such a ; calamity befallen him. This is evident 1 from the fact, that his absence on his commission afforded some encouragement i - - - _ il JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 85 to the ecclesiastics. His presence about the queen’s person had retarded them in their insidious designs ; but no sooner was it known that their enemy was on the [View of Edinburgh from the East, in 15R0.] bishop of Ross, was already there, and he J was the well-known agent of the French interest; he had advertised his ecclesiasti- cal brethren of the favourable opportunity, which he better knew, because he had been recently elected one of the new council. The greatest hopes of the prelates were placed in Mary’s known attachment to the popish superstition; yet they feared, from her connexion with the protestants, and from the influence which the prior had over her mind, that she might at least be induced to give up the celebration of that indispensable part of the popish ritual, the mass. But though the prior was absent, he did not want an indefatigable auxiliary and substi- tute to watch over the interests of the Re- formation. Knox had entertained suspi- cions of the queen from her arrival, which bad been farther confirmed by the audience she condescended to give him when he delivered his opinion “ that her conversion was hopeless,” — and it was his constant theme to declaim against her motives and actions. As his influence was almost un- bounded, his success was equal to that in- fluence. Preaching against idolatry was his forte ; and by his rhetoric the people began seriously to doubt whether they ought to pay allegiance to a princess whom they conceived to be an idolater ; and the more obscure preachers, imitating the example of their leader, circulated his sentiments and phraseology over the kingdom, and excited the popular distrust and dissatisfac- tion. Those symptoms escaped not the penetrating eye of Randolph, the English resident. He thus writes to secretary Cecil : — “ It is now called in question whether the princess, being an idolater, borders, than the archbishop of St Andrews, the bishops of Caithness and Dunblane, ! with other zealous adherents of the catholic j faction, hastened to Edinburgh. Leslie, i SCOTS WORTHIES. 86 may be obeyed in all civil and politic actions. I think marvellously of the wis- dom of God, that gave this unruly, incon- stant, and cumbersome people no more substance and power than they have ; for then they would run wild.” The prior had now acquired an almost i unprecedented degree of popularity. En- titled to the respect and friendship of the queen, on account of his eminent abilities, and to her gratitude for his public services and the salutary tendencies of his counsels, and having discharged his duty on the borders with the utmost applause and diligence, as lord-lieutenant, I Mary began to think of rewarding him on I his resignation of that office, and of con- 1 , . . . . . . Iferring on him a distinguishing mark of jo o o j her favour. Accordingly, as he had always ! manifested a repugnance to the ecclesias- | tical life, he was promoted to the dignity and earldom of Mar. About this period, also, the prior formed a matrimonial alliance, and he was publicly married in the church of St Giles, to lady Agnes Keith, a daughter of the earl mari- schall. We are told by Knox in his history, that after the ceremony was performed (of course in the reformed manner), he was addressed by the preacher to the following effect : — •“ Sir, the church of God hath received comfort by you, and by your labour, unto this day; if you prove more faint therein afterwards, it wall be said that j your wife hath changed your nature.” The fears of the preachers were almost realized on this occasion; for the mar- riage was celebrated with such a splen- dour and magnificence, as roused all their religious apprehensions. They actually | dreaded that some avenging judgment or , calamity would afflict the land. The | utmost clamour was raised against the prior’s riotous feasting and banquets ; but their bitterness was still greater towards the masquerades, with which he amused his friends, as being till that time unknown in Scotland ; and, as they seemed to the preachers to encourage gallantry and licen- tiousness, against them the severest lan- guage of indignation was directed. The well-known talents of the prior, now earl of Mar ; the influence he possessed in the state, as the confidential minister of the queen; the honours which he had received, and his general conduct, had drawn upon him a number of enemies — men who beheld his exaltation with the utmost suspicion, and who secretly deter- mined to effect his ruin. The age was distinguished by its turbulence, aggra- i vated by fierce disputes about religion ; and, as the feudal system at that time prevailed to the utmost extent, the here- ditary animosities, which had been long fostered among the most powerful families, operated from the chief to the most in- significant of his retainers, and ever and anon broke out with violence, as circum- stances seemed favourable. The Scottish nobility were generally ambitious, factious, and fickle ; and by them the earl of Mar was beheld with secret hatred. And so savage and barbarous was the age — an age in which every man almost did that which was right in his own eyes — that even the nobles, who, from their station, ought to have disdained such dastardly revenge, were so far hurried along by their violent passions, as without scruple to despatch their enemies by the dagger, when an opportunity of assassination was afforded. The most formidable of Mar’s enemies, and the most desperate, was the earl of Huntly. This powerful chieftain had a most extensive influence in the Highlands, — his followers were savage, and, like him- self, adventurous and daring. Already had Iluntly signalized himself by various achievements, and his untameable spirit pervaded all his dependents. In fact, they seem to have been a kind of recognised JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 87 banditti, subsisting wholly by warfare, attacks on their neighbours, and predatory incursions into the territories of those who | had been so unfortunate as to incur the | displeasure of their chief. The earl of Mar, while he was prior, I ; and the earl of Huntly, had been rivals for I power; and during this contention, mu- tual disgusts had arisen between them. They were not less opposed to each other in politics than in religion. Mar was the avowed leader and supporter of the re- formers ; Huntly was the head of their enemies the papists. It will be recollected, that, on the death of Francis — when Mary, seeing she could not support her influence in France as a dowager, had resolved to revisit her native kingdom — Leslie, after- wards bishop of Ross, had been appointed by the Scottish catholics as their repre- sentative; while the prior appeared in his own person on the part of the protestants. The counsel of the prior was preferred, and hence began Huntly’s jealousy and dissatisfaction. He and his faction had offered to support Mary with 20,000 men, if she would land among them ; but his offer was rejected. He had advised her to detain the prior in France as a prisoner, as his influence and talents were dangerous to the state ; and this advice was not only disregarded, but he had the mortification to see his rival caressed and honoured. Even after Mary’s arrival, he had proffered his services to establish the ancient church ; and he had conversed with her bigoted uncles on the subject, yet he was disregard- ed. At the royal palace he was treated only with civility ; and, although he was chancellor, he possessed neither influence nor confidence. Every thing was, in his opinion, engrossed by his rival; disdain and contempt, he clearly foresaw, were all he could expect as long as the earl of Mar prevailed. These neglects and mortifica- tions were too great for a man such as Huntly — of illustrious birth, boundless ambition, vast wealth, and powerful re- sources. But he was to feel other humi- liations, at once destructive of all his authority, his consequence, and, in his opinion, of his very family and name. The prior, as we have just observed, had been rewarded with the dignity of earl of Mar, on account of his conduct in his border expedition. With this dignity, however, he was far from being content. Lord Erskine, with whom he was most intimately con- nected by his mother, claimed the territory of Mar as his own peculiar property ; and the prior’s favourite object had been the earldom of Moray. Erskine advanced his claim, and though there was no authority for his immediate right — for he acquired not the property till some years afterwards, • — His claim was received. The prior resign- ed that earldom to his mother’s house ; and, ! not many months after his first advancement ; j as earl of Mar, the queen gratified the wish j which he had never lost sight of, by con- j ferring on him the earldom of Moray. As I by this title he is best known in history, j we henceforth, of course, designate him as j the earl of Moray. We have said that Moray had a number ! of enemies. His proceedings, his encourage- | ment of the Reformation, and his talents, | had made him so obnoxious, that repeated conspiracies were formed to assassinate him. The licentious Bothwell and the earl of Arran had resolved, as we shall presently see, to murder Moray the very first opportunity, on account of some per- sonal injuries, either real or imaginary. Bothwell undertook to perpetrate this villany, while Moray was with the queen at Falkland; and it would have been executed, had not the earl of Arran, de- testing such a deed, sent a letter privately to Moray, discovering the whole conspiracy, and thus he escaped the meditated evil. Bothwell fled from justice into France. 88 SCOTS WORTHIES. Moray’s elevation, however, now made him more envied, and his enemies secretly re- solved to destroy a man before whom they felt awe and humiliation. Huntly beheld, with the most impatient indignation, the advancement of his dread- ed and detested rival ; and he at last reasoned himself into the belief, that a design had been entered into * at court, under the auspices of Moray, to effect his own ruin, and utterly to annihilate his family. This idea was farther strengthened from his peculiar circumstances. The estates of Mar and Moray had been as- signed to him, not as his own right, but merely in trust ; he had possessed them for some time, and though he had not the slightest legal claim, he had always consi- dered them as his own property. With maddening rage he beheld them torn from him to aggrandize his hated rival ; he complained but he was disregarded. Fear- ing the influence of his enemy in his own country, he felt these humiliations as the most decisive blows to all his greatness. He now no longer disguised his intentions, but in defiance of the queen’s proclamation, openly took arms ; and instead of yielding those places of strength, which Mary re- quired him to surrender, his followers dis- persed, or cut in pieces, the parties which she despatched to take possession of them ; and he himself advancing with a consider- able body of men towards Aberdeen, to which place the queen was now returned, filled her small court with consternation. Moray had only a handful of men in whom he could confide. In order to form the appearance of an army, he was obliged to call in the assistance of the neighbouring barons ; but as most of these either favour- ed Huntly’s designs, or stood in awe of his power, from them no cordial or effectual service could be expected. With these troops, however, Moray, who could gain nothing by delay, marched briskly towards the enemy. He found ! them at Corrichie, posted to great advan- t tage ; he commanded his northern asso- ciates instantly to begin the attack ; but on the first motion of the enemy, they trea- cherously turned their backs ; and Huntly’s followers, throwing aside their spears, and breaking their ranks, drew their swords, and rushed forward to the pursuit. It was then that Moray gave proof both of steady | courage and of prudent conduct. He stood immoveable on a rising ground, with the I ! small but trusty body of his adherents, who, presenting their spears to the enemy, received them with a determined resolution which they little expected. Before they recovered from the confusion occasioned by this unforeseen resistance, Moray’s northern troops, who had fled so shame- fully in the beginning of the action, willing to regain their credit with the victorious I party, fell upon them and completed the rout. I Huntly himself, who was extremely corpu- j lent, was trodden to death in the pursuit. His sons, Sir John and Adam Gordon, were taken prisoners. Moray marched his victorious troops back to Aberdeen, “where,” says Buchanan, “he had appoint- ed a minister of the gospel to wait for his return, and gave thanks to the God of battles, who, out of his infinite mercy, beyond all men’s expectation, and without any strength or wisdom of his own, had delivered him and his men from such imminent danger.” Moray proceeded immediately to the queen, to inform her of his victory ; but | she received the tidings without any joyful emotion. Perhaps a consciousness of the rivalship of Moray and Huntly, — sympathy | for the misfortunes of the latter, and an idea that she had proceeded rashly, and given way too easily to Moray’s represen ta- | tions, operated upon her, and raised some sorrow for the destruction of an illustrious house, and for a nobleman who was, not- | JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 89 withstanding his faults, loyal to her, and attached to her religion. Moray was now in the most desirable situation. By his influence and dexterity, all his rivals had been removed. Mary’s affection towards him was sincere ; she was guided by his counsels, and he in return rendered her salutary advice. In- deed, the aspect of the country had been totally changed through Moray’s influence. Peace was now restored ; the laws were efficient ; commerce and the arts flourished ; learning was encouraged ; the protestants were allowed to assemble without molestation, and their preachers were openly countenanced by the state. Freed at length from those turbulent fac- tions which had so long harassed them, though these were too soon again to dis- tract the country, a momentary repose was enjoyed; men felt the blessings of civiliza- tion and happiness. The people, in general, were contented and happy ; Moray’s con- duct was viewed with every respect and indulgence ; he was deservedly popular, and his administration was salutary and useful. Of profound and versatile talents, he equally knew how to govern in war and peace ; and alike great in the cabinet and the field, he had the good of his country at heart, even though he made many of his public acts subservient to his ambition. In a word, during this momentary respite from the ebullitions of factious passion, the ancient maxim seemed to be verified, that the people can only be called happy who are under the administration of a sage. In May, 1563, an act of indemnity was passed, in which it was declared that' the earl of Moray, and the other leaders of the protestants, should not be molested, or called to account, for the outrages, tumults, and other achievements, carried on by the congregation, between the years 1558 and 1561, under Moray’s auspices, when he was only prior of St Andrews, and in arms against the authority of the queen- regent. This was a necessary procedure, as it was probable that their conduct might j be reviewed in some after period, should j an opportunity offer. About this time, it s is said, he made a singular proposal to the queen. He advised her to entail the right of succession to the crown, on four families of the name of Stuart ; and it is also said, that the queen deliberated with her council on the measure, but that they gave it as their opinion that she could not alter the legal succession. It is evident, that if the counsel of Moray was such, it goes far at this time to prove his patriotism, as he could have little hope of being first named, if, indeed, named at all. It is necessary to notice some important transactions which occurred about this time. The beauty and accomplishments of Mary were universally known; and many of the European princes ardently | sighed to share her crown. With a king- | dom as her dowry, joined to her external j accomplishments, she attracted the admira- j tion of numerous suitors. Mary herself was not averse to marriage. She had remained a widow for a sufficient period, and had honoured the memory of her husband by her exemplary conduct. But she felt that without a vigorous govern- ment she could have little peace or security. Her ministers were continually engaging in plots and family animosities ; the nobles were fierce and haughty; the protestant clergy her avowed opponents; and the people, in general, animated by their own peculiar opinions. Young, beautiful, and amiable, among a people of a different re- ligion, she felt herself without friends, solitary, and unprotected. It was in the year 1565, that lord Barnley, son of the earl of Lennox, arrived in Scotland, and was introduced to Mary at the castle of Wemyss, in the county ot M SCOTS WORTHIES. | 90 I Fife. The first interview made a favour- able impression on the queen. At that time, in the vigour of manhood, his stature was tall and graceful, his countenance beautiful and regular. “ In beauty and in gracefulness of person,” says Dr Robertson, “ he surpassed all his contem- poraries ; he excelled eminently in all those arts which add ease and elegance to external form, and which enable it not only to dazzle, but to please.” Mary was in the buoyancy of youthful vivacity ; her beauty shed a radiance around the circle in which she moved ; every amuse- ment was produced to please “ the new arrived ;” banquets, masks, and dancing were celebrated ; and love stole into her heart. She had been distracted by intrigues and jarring interests ; now she resigned herself to the potency of those gentle feelings which elevate the mind amid its corroding cares. The courtiers observ- ed the sovereign’s conduct; her feelings escaped not their penetrating eyes. They saw that Darnley was beloved ; that the memory of all the queen’s former suitors was effaced ; and some of them, especially Morton and Glencairn, did not disguise their sentiments of dislike to the rumoured alliance. The opposition of the former, however, resulted from his personal interest being endangered. He had claimed the earldom of Angus, to which the now restored countess of Lennox also alleged her right. Foreseeing what would be the conse- quence of the queen’s marriage with Darnley, Moray set himself resolutely to oppose it; but finding little attention paid to what he urged on the subject in the convention of estates, he chose rather to absent himself for some time ; and accordingly retired to the border, where he remained until that event was consummated. After the murder of Rizzio, Moray returned. Mary having heard of his arrival, knowing well his power, his talents, and his capacity to serve her, and as it appeared to her that he had no connexion with the murder, perceived the import- ance of attaching him to her interest. Her natural regard for him also returned, and she felt inclined to bestow on him a sister’s affection. Accordingly, as the queen’s accouchement was hastening on, Moray resolved to take advantage of every circumstance, and to effect the return of Morton, Lethington, and their associates. He began openly to plead for their recall; and his conduct alarmed the bishop of Ross and the earl of Huntly. They proceeded forthwith to the queen, informed her of the facts, and en- ; forced on her the necessity of committing such a dangerous man to prison ; but she refused to listen to their remonstrance, and suffered it to pass unnoticed, save by instructing Sir James Melville to observe Moray’s conduct and that of his party with the utmost vigilance. The delivery of the queen now approached ; and letters were sent to all the nobility, desiring them to resort to the capital, and to reside near her person. Mary herself proceeded to the castle of Edinburgh, in which the king, Moray, Argyle, and other nobles, at this juncture resided. On the 19th of June, 1566, she was delivered of a prince, after- wards James YI. This important event was hailed with every sign of enthusiasm and joy. A messenger was immediately despatched to London, to communicate the tidings to Elizabeth. She was at a ball in Greenwich when she received the informa- tion : instantly she threw herself into a j chair in the utmost agony and sorrow; and | for some time she appeared almost without animation. At length she burst into tears, and exclaimed, “ Alas ! Mary of Scotland is the mother of a fair son, while I am a solitary and joyless maiden.” JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 91 The deeply tragical incidents which succeeded, disgusted him more and more at the court. With these the public are i well acquainted. The murder of Damley, and Mary’s after marriage with the assassin of her husband, has occasioned too much speculation of late years, not to be known to every one in the least acquainted with Scottish history. Moray now found it impossible to live at a court where his im- placable enemy was so highly honoured. ; Bothwell insulted him openly. He therefore asked leave of the queen to travel abroad ; and she, being willing to get rid of him at all events, granted his desire, upon his pro- mising not to make any stay in England. He went to France, and remained there till he heard that she was in custody at Lochleven, and that Bothwell had fled to Denmark. He then returned home. On the 29th of July, 1567, James VI. was crowned king of Scotland at Stirling. The papers which the queen had signed were read, and her resignation was receiv- ed by the assembled nobles in the name of the three estates. Morton, bending his body, and laying his hand on the scriptures, took the coronation oath for the infant king. John Knox preached the inaugura- tion sermon, and the prince was then 1 anointed king of Scotland by Adam Bothwell, bishop of Orkney^ — a ceremony which Knox and his friends declaimed , against as a Jewish ceremony. That pre- j late then delivered to him the sword and sceptre, and finally placed on his head the royal crown. On the 22d day of August, 1567, Moray was solemnly invested with the regency, in presence of the principal nobles, some of the bishops, and other church dignitaries. The good effects of Moray’s accession to the regency were quickly felt. The party forming for the queen was weak, irresolute, and disunited ; and no sooner was the government of the kingdom in the hands i of a man so remarkable both for his abilities and popularity, than the nobles, of whom it was composed, lost all hopes of gaining ground, and began to treat separately with i the regent. So many of them were brought | to acknowledge the lung’s authority, that scarce any appearance of opposition to the established government was left in the king- dom. The regent was no less success- ful in his attempts to get into his hands the places of strength in the kingdom. By liberal bribes and gifts from his own eccle- siastical property, Sir James Balfour de- livered to him the castle of Edinburgh. Falkland, the fortalice of the Bass, and other castles, were surrendered without opposition. The castle of Dunbar, Both- well’s famous stronghold, was summoned ; and, marching in person, with four large cannon, six smaller pieces, and a great store of military equipments, it capitulated on his approach. The town of Haddington, in his way, had given signs of turbulence ; but he compelled the inhabitants to obedi- ence. The town of Dumfries also was obliged to submit. Then marching towards the borders, and arriving secretly and suddenly in Hawick, he sallied out, and attacked the border marauders when they least expected him, seizing thirty-four of them, part of whom were hanged and part drowned. In another part of the border, he seized fifteen more ; five, however, got their liberty, upon the delivery of hostages ; and ten were brought to Edinburgh, and there laid in irons. He quickly restored order, and the exercise of the laws. It must not be forgotten, and, indeed, it will be evident from what we have already recorded, that the state of the country on Moray’s elevation was most unfavourable. The people were in a state of transition from the superstitions and traditions of their fathers, — the nation was excited, — the laws were often defeated in their execution, — justice frequently disregarded, — every SCOTS WORTHIES. 92 petty baron or chief reigned absolute in his own domains. Civil wars, too, had distracted the public mind — had retarded the progress of civilization, and had en- gendered that restless spirit which was destined to be transmitted to the succeed- ing century, and to involve the country in strife and bloodshed. On the 15th of December, the parliament assembled. The regent rode to it in great solemnity ; Argyle carried the sword, Huntly the sceptre, and Angus the crown. The nation was now tranquil through Moray’s endeavours; and there was no interruption to public business; but he could not be said to be properly the regent I j until he was confirmed by parliament, nor , j did resistance to him without this sanction I imply high treason. This, of course, was j soon obtained. Many wise and salutary I laws were enacted, which evinced that the j regent had the welfare of his country at j heart. The parliament granted everything | the confederates could demand, either for j the safety of their own persons, or the ! j security of that form of government which I I they had established in the kingdom. !| Mary’s resignation of the crown was 1 1 accepted, and declared to be valid. The 1 1 king’s authority and Moray’s election were ! | recognised and confirmed. The imprison- | ing of the queen, and all the other pro- | ceedings of the confederates were pro- I nounced lawful. The letters which Mary I I had written to Bothwell were produced, - | and she was declared to be accessory to |! the murder of the king. At the same | time, all the acts of the parliament of the ji year 1560, in favour of the protestant 1 1 religion, were publicly ratified ; new sta- i I tutes to the same purpose were enacted ; j{ and nothing that could contribute to i root out the remains of popery, or to | encourage the growth of the reformation, i was neglected. i The regent now pursued the murderers of the king. This surely is a proof of his inno- cence. Several were taken and executed. Intercessions were made for Mary’s libera- tion by some foreign states ; but the regent j publicly averred, what was the fact, that the queen was not his prisoner ; he was amenable to the parliament, who had rati- fied her imprisonment. But while the regent was thus vigorously administering the business of the state, composing internal commotions, and pro- moting the happiness of his country, the affairs of Mary took a different turn. She had still numerous friends, — Moray had numerous enemies. The length and rigour of Mary’s sufferings began to move many to commiserate her case. All who leaned to the ancient religion, dreaded the effects of Moray’s zeal. And he, though his abilities were great, did not possess the talents requisite for soothing the rage, or removing the jealousies of the different factions. His virtues were severe, and his deportment to his equals, especially after his elevation to the regency, distant and haughty. The house of Hamilton were in secret his implacable foes, fearing that their right of succession to the crown was in jeopardy. Murray of Tullibardine was in secret his determined enemy. Maitland of Lethington, who was famed for his instability, and for his care of ! his own interest, was now turning his | crafty thoughts towards the queen. Lord Fleming still commanded Dumbarton castle in the name of his sovereign. The catholics, headed by the primate of St Andrews, were exasperated to a man against Moray. Frequent meetings were held by the queen’s friends to contrive her restoration^ Such was the favourable disposition of the nation towards the queen, when she | recovered her liberty, in a manner no less surprising to her friends, than unexpected by her enemies. Several attempts had JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. been made to procure her an opportunity ! of escaping, which some unforeseen accident, ; or the vigilance of her keepers, had hitherto disappointed. At last, Mary employed all her art to gain George Douglas, her keeper’s brother, a youth of eighteen. As her manners were naturally affable and insin- uating, she treated him with the most flattering distinction; she even allowed him to entertain the most ambitious hopes, by letting fall some expressions, as if she would choose him for her husband. At his age, and in such circumstances, it was i scarcely possible to resist such a tempta- tion. He yielded, and drew others into the plot. On the 2d of May, 1568, whilst the lady of Lochleyen and his eldest brother were at supper, George Douglas contrived to gain possession of the keys of the castle, which were usually deposited in his grand- mother’s bedroom, after the gates were | locked. The queen and her attendants were in readiness ; her youthful deliverer CQueen Mary’s Escape from Locbleven, 2d May, 15f>3.] conducted her out of prison ; a boat was prepared; and, locking the castle gates behind him to prevent pursuit, he took the keys with him. The night was clear and serene ; scarcely a breath of wind ruffled 93 the waters ; the moon shone bright in the heavens, and shed her silvery tints on the surface of the dark blue lake. Getting into the boat, the adventurers flew across the watery expanse ; but the plashing of the oars roused the inmates of the castle, and an alarm was instantly given. “ Trea- son ! treason !” was loudly exclaimed when the flight of the queen was discovered, and several fire-arms were discharged after the fugitives* They landed, however, in safety on the opposite shore, where the queen was received by lord Seaton, and a chosen troop of horsemen in complete armour. Mary again felt herself to be a queen; immediately she mounted, and long before break of day she and her trusty adherents had crossed the Forth, and ended their hasty and dangerous journey before the gates of Niddrie castle, in West Lothian, which belonged to lord Seaton. After the repose of a few hours, she proceeded to Hamilton; her friends advising her to enter Dumbarton castle, then commanded by her adherent lord Fleming. No sooner was Mary’s escape known, than her friends resorted to her from all quarters. In a few days, her court was filled with a great and splendid train of nobles, accompanied by such numbers of followers as formed an army above six thousand strong. Fler resignation of the crown was declared to be null and void; the nobles subscribed a bond in her favour ; and the inauguration of the king and the regency of Moray were pro- nounced treasonable acts and usurpations. Moray was holding a court of justice in Glasgow when he received tidings of the queen’s escape. Astonished at the intelli- gence, he nevertheless prepared calmly to I * The keys of the castle were thrown into the I lake, but they were found in 1805, after having lain concealed since the above memorable event, near two centuries and a half, and are now at Kinross House. SCOTS WORTHIES. 94 meet the threatened dangers. His own adherents were seized with consternation — | he beheld some of them go over to the queen, — others betook themselves to private places. He was advised to proceed to Stirling, and there fortify himself ; hut he rejected the advice ; and, after mature deliberation, determined to remain in Glas- gow. His usual vigour and prudence did not forsake him, and his proceedings at once displayed his resolution. In the midst of the regent’s active mea- sures to discomfit his enemies, and to ani- mate his followers, he received a message from Mary, requiring his instant demission of the regency, and submission to her authority, with the promise of a full pardon if he rendered a compliance. He seemed to hesitate ; he returned no definite answer, but wished to gain time, as if he would latterly enter into negotiation. In the mean time he was busy in collecting troops ; and when a new message reached him, he was found determined to dispute the govern- ment with the queen. A battle, therefore, was to decide the hopes of Mary and her brother. The former wished not, indeed, this last alter- native ; she feared the regent’s military talents ; she knew well that his officers were all men of distinguished bravery; and one unfortunate engagement might plunge her into irretrievable ruin. But the Ham- iltons, who had all joined her standard, overruled her objections. As her army was more numerous than the regent’s, they therefore thought it impossible to be defeated ; and the primate of St Andrews, calculating on victory, had already in imagination placed himself at the head of affairs, and planned a visionary marriage between the queen and a son of his brother Chatelherault. The regent had mustered an army, and he now prepared with the utmost delibera- tion to decide his fate. His only hope lay in an early rencounter. For this purpose he marched his troops from Glasgow, after reviewing them on the common called the Green. Mary began her march on the 13th of May from Hamilton to enter Dumbarton castle, which the regent had not been able to wrest out of the hands of lord Fleming, the governor ; but if the enemy should endeavour to intercept her march, she resolved not to decline an engagement. In Mary’s situation, no re- solution could be more imprudent. The regent came up to her army, and deter- mined to dispute her progress. Perceiving his enemies to be in motion, when near the famous village of Langside, about two miles from Glasgow, although he was farther distant from it, by a great exertion he was successful in gaining an eminence which he perceived them anxious to attain. The regent, fortunately for himself, secured the eminence by a body of chosen troops. The contending armies were very differ- ent in point of numbers. The queen mustered 6000 fighting men, with a con- siderable number of the nobility. Moray’s army consisted only of 3000, “ but formid- able for his own military talents, and those of Morton, Kirkcaldy of Grange, and others, who had been trained from their youth in foreign and domestic wars.” Moray and Morton, indeed, were known to be the best generals in Scotland; no one ever saw Lindsay or Ruthven retreat ; and Kirkcaldy of Grange was pronounced by the constable Montmorency the first soldier in Europe. Such were the leaders, and such the force against whom the queen had to contend. Both armies drew up in the order of battle, and displayed the royal banners: they were also severally provided with two pieces of cannon, which, however, were of little use. The queen’s troops were ranged by Argyle in two columns, the main body under his own command ; Arbroath com- JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 95 manded the van ; Cassillis, the right wing ; lord Claud Hamilton, the left. The regent followed the same order in the disposition of his troops ; his right wing was command- ed by Morton, and under him Home, Lindsay, Lethington, and others ; the left j wing by his relative the earl of Mar. Glencairn, Monteitli, and their followers, with some harquebussiers, were stationed in the village, and behind the hedges on the high road. Kirkcaldy of Grange had taken possession of the hill on the previous night. A rush on the part of the queen’s troops announced the commencemen t of the action. “ For God and the queen,” was resounded throughout her army ; while the regent’s warriors loudly replied, “ For God and the king.” The queen’s cavalry put those of the regent to flight, but in return they were sorely galled by his archers. Her main body marched gallantly into the plain, under a severe fire from the regent’s musketeers, who were stationed behind the bushes. The regent hasted to meet the queen’s troops with his first division, and a desperate encounter ensued sword in hand. His soldiers were almost losing ground, when his second division came to his support. Kirkcaldy of Grange then decided the fate of the day ; and the battle, which continued for an hour and a half, ended in a total defeat of the queen’s army; who, panic- struck and sorely pressed by that gallant soldier, fled from the field in the utmost consternation. The regent’s victory was complete. Three hundred of the queen’s army fell ; while he lost only one of his own men, and none of any distinction were wounded, except lords Hume and Ochiltree. He humanely restrained the fury of his victorious soldiers in the pursuit, by riding up and down the field, and calling upon them to spare their countrymen. Many persons of distinction were made prisoners. The regent then returned to Glasgow, and there offered public thanks to God for this happy deliverance from popery and papists, who had thus threatened to over- turn the work of reformation in the land. The unfortunate Mary awaited the issue of the engagement at a little distance. With the utmost anguish she beheld the overthrow of her gallant army ; she was dismayed by the apprehensions of captivity and death. She could not venture to Dumbarton, as she might fall into the regent’s hands by the way. Lord Herries, a faithful adherent, accompanied her in | her flight towards Galloway, and she j rested not till she reached the abbey of Dundrennan, near Kircudbright, almost seventy miles distant from the fatal field of Langside. Here she resolved, in a rash and unhappy moment, to retreat to England. The primate and lord Herries on their knees entreated her to give up this desperate resolution. She was inflexible. A despatch was sent to Lauder, the deputy- commander at Carlisle, desiring to know whether the Scottish queen might venture on English ground. He answered, that he could not of his own authority give her any assurance, but that he would send by post and know his sovereign’s will ; never- 1 theless, if any danger was evident, he j would receive her at Carlisle with due j respect. Mary seemed as if fatally anxious ! to be in the power of her enemy and rival ; the regent was active and indefatigable ; a revolting captivity or certain death awaited her if she fell into his hands. What more could Elizabeth inflict ? Accordingly, without waiting for the return of the mes- senger, she set sail in a fishing-boat with sixteen attendants, and looked her last adieu on her native land. She landed at Wirkington in Cumberland, and, after a short stay at Cockermouth, was conducted by Lauder to Carlisle, where she remained till an answer was returned to her despatch to Elizabeth. I 96 SCOTS WORTHIES. The regent, in the mean time, followed up the victory he had gained by the most active measures. Seven of the prisoners, one of whom was Hamilton of Bothwell- haugh, were condemned, and led out to execution ; but the regent spared them, and ordered them back to prison. He appeared before the castles of Hamilton and Dra- phane, which surrendered at his summons, after which he proceeded to Glasgow, and thence to Edinburgh. Lord Ruthven compelled the earl of Huntly to retire northward, though he had advanced as far as the Tay, with an army of two thousand men. A proclamation was issued by the regent, commanding a general muster of soldiers at Biggar. He set out thither from Edinburgh, and left the place of rendezvous at the head of four thousand horse and one thousand foot. He attacked the castles of all the nobility, who were friendly to the queen. He got possession of Boghall castle, belonging to lord Fleming, the governor of Dumbarton ; he destroyed the castle of Stirling; and the castle of Sanquhar, belonging to lord Crichton, capitulated. Sir John Gordon, the knight of Lochinvar, refused to surrender his castle, more especially as he expected assistance from lord Herries : the regent was unsuccessful in the attack, but he destroyed Kenmore, another of Lochinvar’s strongholds. He marched to Dumfries, and there executed some freebooters, who had fallen into his hands. He then made a successful assault on the castle of Hod- dam, which belonged to lord Herries ; and that of Annan surrendered at his approach. Here he had an interview with lord Scroop, the warden of the English marches. He then marched to Peebles, and thence to Edinburgh, where he was received with the loudest congratulations, having estab- lished complete tranquillity in the southern and western counties. Nor was Moray less attentive to the administration of the laws, which in some cases amounted to severity. On the 16th day of August the parlia- ment assembled, and, after much reasoning, i it was resolved to send commissioners to I England to vindicate their conduct. But I none being willing to undertake the busi- 1 1 ness, the regent resolved upon going him- i j self ; and accordingly chose three gentle- men, two ministers, two lawyers, together with the celebrated George Buchanan, to accompany him; and, with a guard of a hundred horse, they set out, and arrived at York, the appointed place of conference, on the 4th of October. After several meetings with the English commissioners to little purpose, Elizabeth invited the regent to London, that, by personal con- versation with him, she might be better satisfied about the state of affairs in Scot- land. But here the same difficulties stood in his way as at York ; he refused to enter upon the accusation of his sister, the queen of Scots, unless, provided she was found j guilty, Elizabeth would engage to protect j the king’s party. The conferences ended in nothing ; less from want of inclination, than from inability | to prove. It was of the greatest conse- quence to Moray to preserve the perma- nence of his power. Had he consented to her restoration, or acknowledged she was innocent, he could not but anticipate the downfall of his pre-eminence. On the other j hand, the declaration of Mary’s innocence, I or her release, would entirely disconcert Elizabeth’s plans. Her enmity was too | great, not to appear through the mask of j feigned affection and impartiality. Although an adept in dissimulation, it was easily j j discerned she only wanted a pretext to j | tyrannize over her ill-fated rival. And j while she temporized, the bonds of Mary’s | captivity were rivetting faster and faster, j If the motives of the different parties are ; | balanced, reasons may be assigned for the JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 97 conduct of each. The late king was j despised and detested by his subjects ; by I Elizabeth treated with indignity, and hardly, if ever, recognised by that name. Now, under the plea of loyalty and regard, all fly to arms, and associate to ruin the queen. What could this farce of a trial end in but nothing ? The regent returned to Scotland, and found the kingdom in tranquillity. Finding it necessary, however, to take measures to secure his authority and government against the designs of his enemies, who, he knew, were neither few nor of little conse- quence, he called an assembly of the nobles at Stirling, and received their sanc- tion to his proceedings in England. But his enemies had resolved to commence their operations, and they were farther encouraged by the opportune return of the duke of Chatelherault to Scotland. This nobleman, who had crossed from France to England to oppose Moray in the regency, had been amused by Elizabeth, and actually detained by her till the regent returned to Scotland. He then received permission to leave England ; but the English queen had so contrived, that he did not reach Scotland till a few weeks after the regent’s arrival. He had espoused Mary’s cause, and had received from her a high military commission, together with the fantastic “title of her adopted father.” Prompted by these vain distinctions, no sooner did he arrive at Edinburgh than he issued a proclamation, forbidding the acknowledg- ment of any other authority than that of the queen. The regent took the alarm, and determined to oppose with vigour this faction, and, if possible, to check it while he was able. He issued a counter procla- mation in the name of the king, appointing Glasgow as a place for a general meeting, and ordering all loyal subjects to repair to that city. With his usual expedition, he assembled an army, and directed his march towards the west. Chatelherault was now alarmed ; he knew that he was unable to contend with the regent ; the effects of the battle of Langside were yet apparent in the west, and had made a visible impression ; and he therefore thought it more expedient to propose an accommodation, than hazard another engagement, which might produce the most fatal consequences to his house. In this opinion he was farther decided by his brother, the archbishop of Glasgow ; and the regent was by no means willing to proceed to extremities, although he had every advantage on his side. A treaty was accordingly concluded on the 13th of March, 1569. Chatelherault promised to submit to the authority of the king and the regent ; and the latter, on his part, pro- mised to repeal all acts passed against the queen’s friends, and to restore them to their privileges, on condition that they should submit to the government. Hostages were given by the duke, and he visited the young king at Stirling in company with the regent and lord Herries ; while all the prisoners taken at the battle of Langside were set at liberty. This agreement between the regent and Chatelherault had been conducted by lord Herries and Gavin Hamilton, abbot of Kilwinning, who had just returned from England. But Huntly and Argyle refused to be included. A secret correspondence had been carried on for some time between the captive queen and her faction ; her affairs now seemed more promising, and the successful persecution of the protestants in France had raised the hopes of the crest-fallen catholics to such a degree, as to make them already elated by the antici- pation of Mary’s restoration and triumph. These things powerfully influenced Huntly and Argyle ; even on Chatelherault, not- withstanding his recent engagements, they had a visible impression ; and he appeared irresolute, fickle, and wavering, still inclined SCOTS WORTHIES. 98 to assume the power of the high office conferred on him by Mary, when she recognised him as her “ adopted father.” But these noblemen were again to learn another lesson from the regent’s boldness and vigilance. Knowing well all the sentiments and contrivances of his enemies, and distrusting their professions of sincerity, he determined, by his decision, to crush the faction while in its state of weakness, before it gathered strength to trouble the country by renewed commotions. It had been agreed at the pacification of Glasgow, between the regent and Chatelherault, that, on the tenth day of April (1569), a convention should be held to settle the affairs of the queen, as well as to ratify the treaty entered into between these two leaders of their respective factions. It was easily perceived, at the same time, that the appearance of friendship was merely super- ficial, — that the contending parties still indulged their animosities and hostilities, — that their suspicions, instead of being dissi- pated, were becoming stronger. The regent had secret intelligence of the corre- spondence of Huntly and Argyle, and of Chatelherault’s irresolution. The day of convention arrived, and the nobles assem- bled. The regent, who, in virtue of his office, presided in the assembly, as president of the convention, rising up, produced a document, and formally demanded of the duke if he would subscribe to the treaty of his submission. Chatelherault, surprised at the regent’s address, nevertheless as- sumed confidence, and, in his reply, said that he was still willing to observe the conditions ; but he wished to be informed of the manner in which the affairs of the queen were to he concluded. His reply was evidently evasive ; for had he been sincere, he could not have scrupled to make his written acknowledgment. The regent’s penetration enabled him at once to perceive the causes of these scruples ; he saw that if the duke was permitted thus | to break loose from his engagements, no j security would be afforded for his pretended allegiance. His resolution was equally hold and adventurous. Setting aside all considerations of Chatelherault’s rank, as the nearest heir to the crown, he ordered him to he instantly apprehended by his guards, and, with lord Herries and the abbot of Kilwinning, he was committed a prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh. This bold and politic conduct completely annihilated the hopes of the faction. Ar- gyle submitted: he applied for a pardon, and, as he had conducted himself with considerable moderation, he was only re- quired to take the oath of allegiance to the king. Huntly was now left alone ; his conduct demanded a more serious consider- ation. While the regent was in England, he had been eminently turbulent, and he had acted with remarkable ferocity in various districts, encouraging the devasta- tions of his retainers, and plundering with- out exception the adherents of the king. There were various discussions on his j punishment, which finally ended in his I taking the oath of allegiance to the king J at St Andrews. Having thus defeated this powerful faction, the regent made a ; visit to the northern districts of the kingdom, ! and, after making displays of his justice as ! well as clemency in various quarters, he disunited his enemies and strengthened his own power. The regent had committed Chatelhe- rault and lord Herries to prison, as he imagined that he could not reckon on his own security while those two zealous adherents of the queen were at large. The former being chief of the house of Hamilton, this act roused the fury of the \ whole name. Nor did the regent stop with these proceedings. Knowing well that they were the sole rivals of his great- ness, both on account of their high station JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 99 I ; I and their pretensions to the throne, he determined to crush the Hamiltons at 1 every hazard ; to undermine their influence, and, if possible, to facilitate their destruc- tion. The part which they had acted at the battle of Langside was not forgotten ; and the enmity which Moray and Chatel- herault mutually entertained towards each other was undisguised. But from them the regent would have always remained secure from personal vengeance. It was the despair and vengeance of one man which effected his destruction. James Hamilton of Bothwellliaugh, nephew to the archbishop of St Andrews, was the person who committed this detest- able deed. He had been condemned to death, with six other gentlemen of distinc- tion, two of them of his own name, the barons of Innerwiclc and Kincavil, and, with them, had been led out to execution for his share in the battle of Langside ; but, at the intercession of the reformed clergy, the regent spared their lives, and ordered them all back to prison. This gentleman was a cadet of the ducal house of Chatelherault ; his father, the first of his family, being David Hamilton, the fifth son of John Hamilton of Orbiston. His estate was situated in the parish of Both- well, and county of Lanark, whence he had | his designation. He had married Isabella Sinclair, daughter and co-heiress of John Sinclair of Woodhouselee, in Mid Lothian, and this lady was the innocent cause of the unfortunate catastrophe. Hamilton had contrived to make his escape from prison ; but, as the act of for- feiture for his concern in the battle of Langside remained in full force against him, he was compelled to lurk among his friends. Whether the regent had any particular hatred towards him cannot be ascertained ; yet certain it is, that the act of forfeiture was removed from all the gentlemen taken prisoners in that affair, Bothwellliaugh excepted. After the confis- cation of Hamilton's estate, his wife, who had remained there during her husband’s absence, never imagining that her own inheritance was to be also doomed to the same calamity, proceeded to Woodhouselee, thinking that on her own patrimony she would with security await the issue of more prosperous times. But in this she was mistaken. Sir James j Bellenden, lord justice-clerk, one of the favourites of the regent, had asked and obtained most unjustly the estate of Wood- houselee. As Bellenden knew that Ha- milton’s lady resided on the property, he applied to the regent for an act of posses- sion ; and accordingly some officers were sent to Woodhouselee, who secured the house, and barbarously turned the unfor- tunate lady, in a cold and stormy night, and in a state of ill health, naked into the fields. Before the morning dawn, she was furiously deranged. Whether the officers exceeded their commission we cannot say ; certain it is, however, that this horrid and inhuman conduct was allowed to pass by the regent without any censure. The pro- ceedings of those villains, the enormity of the latter provocation, in thus savagely destroying the wife of his bosom, in addi- tion to the injuries he had already borne, completely overcame Hamilton’s prudence, and from that moment he resolved to s avenge his wrongs, not on the despicable j villains who had thus so barbarously sport- j ed with his feelings, but on the regent | himself, whom he believed to be the grand | author of this injustice. Nor did he con- ! ceal his intentions. He openly avowed, wherever he went, that he would endeavour to effect Moray’s destruction, and he accord- j ingly watched his enemy’s motions for some j time ; but he was invariably disappointed in his daring purposes. At length, unfortunately, an opportunity offered, which Hamilton determined to 100 SCOTS WORTHIES. improve. The regent had been at Stirling, and was on his way to the metropolis. He had to pass through Linlithgow, a town venerable and sacred in Scottish story. This town Hamilton chose as the fittest place to gratify his revenge. With the utmost deliberation, he prepared for the accomplishment of the assassination: the wrongs he had sustained; above all, the recollection of the wife of his bosom whom he tenderly loved, preyed on the mind of the rash and unhappy man, and excited the most frenzied enthusiasm. He believed, too, that he was doing his country a meri- torious service in freeing it from the government of one whom he reckoned its greatest oppressor. Many of his friends of the name of Hamilton aided him in the horrid and detestable enterprise. The town of Linlithgow, delightfully situated in a valley, and surrounded on all sides by rising grounds, consisted then, as it does still, of one long continued street, being terminated by the magnificent palace and the ancient church. In this street a house was selected by Hamilton, about the middle of the town, for the accomplishment of his revenge. As there is a number of entries , or passages, (called in Scotland closes ,) which have an open outlet from the prin- cipal street of the town to the fields, there is a tradition, that, on the night before the assassination, these were all choked up with a thorny bush, abounding on the Scottish high grounds, called whins , — a bush full of prickles, and annoying in the ] greatest degree to those who come in con- tact with them. This tradition, if not true, is at least plausible ; for, as Hamilton well knew that there would be an immediate pursuit, it was his interest to present as many obstacles as possible ; and this trifling one, by his pursuers rushing through the 1 narrow entries, and finding themselves suddenly plunged among the whins and bramble-bushes, might contribute to his safety by causing a small delay. He then took his station in a wooden gallery front- ing the street ; and that he might the more securely accomplish his purpose, without exciting suspicion or notice while in the act, he first spread on the floor of the room a large feather-bed, that the noise of his feet in his movement might not be heard; and he hung up a large black cloth opposite the window, that none without might observe his shadow. “ His next care,” says an author, who graphically describes this scene, “ was to cut a hole a little below the lattice, sufficient to admit the point of his harquebuss ; and to add to the security of his flight, he examined the gate at the back of the house, and finding it too low for a man to pass under on horseback, with the assistance of his servant he removed the lintel, and kept his horse in the stable ready saddled and bridled. After all these preparations he calmly and deliberately awaited the approach of the regent, who had slept the preceding night in the town.” On the 23d day of January, 1570, was the foul deed committed. The threats of this desperate man, however, had been told to the regent: on this very day he got certain information both of the person, and the place where he was concealed ; and Hamilton was almost disappointed in his aim, but unfortunately the regent’s hour was come. Moray was remarkable for personal courage ; but though he despised Hamilton, he did not think proper to disregard the warning of his danger. He had accord- ingly resolved to proceed to Edinburgh on the road which skirts the outside of the town, instead of taking thb street ; but, j after mounting his horse, and perceiving the gate through which he meant to pass j blockaded by a vast crowd, he turned the other way, through the principal street. Being built according to the fashion of the age, it was exceedingly narrow; and as he [Assassination of the earl o of the belly. The ball passed through him below the navel, and killed the horse of George Douglas, who rode on his right side. The assassin instantly fled. He was i pursued for several miles, and was at one i time on the point of being taken: his | horse was breathless, and almost ready I to sink, — whip and spur had no effect: j and coming to a broad ditch, his progress | was impeded. A few moments’ delay i would have placed Hamilton in the j hands of justice ; but he drew his dagger, II. Moray, 23d January, 1570J and plunged it into his steed behind. The horse, by a desperate exertion, leaped across the ditch. The assassin thus escaped. He fled first to Hamilton, j and then sought shelter with his brother- j in-law, Muirhead of Lauchope, who hos- j pitably received him, and protected him for the night. The following day he was j accompanied a part of his way by this | * The musket is still to be seen in Hamilton j palace, it having been presented to the duke by a ! cadet of the family. J JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. | rode along with his guards and attendants, ! the crowd increased so much, or a number j of carts were purposely overturned, that it was with the greatest difficulty he proceed- I ed, and he was compelled to move with || the utmost tardiness. As he advanced, the pressure increased, and unfortunately he was compelled to make a halt opposite the very house in which his intended 101 assassin was concealed. Hamilton was on the alert; immediately he seized his musket; and, trembling with fury, at the same time rejoicing that his revenge was on the point j of being gratified, he took a marked and | deliberate aim at the unfortunate nobleman, j He pointed towards his belt, and, dis- ! charging the musket,* with a single bullet he shot the regent through the lower part 102 SCOTS WORTHIES. 1 % relative; and after a brief concealment about the town of Hamilton, be effected his final escape to France, where be died some years afterwards, expressing great contrition for the execrable crime he had committed. Nothing could exceed the consternation of the multitude at Linlithgow, when the fatal shot was fired with such a well- directed aim. A cry of horror and lamen- tation burst from the crowd and the regent’s attendants; the call of “ To arms ” was sounded, and they rushed forward to the place from whence the ball had been aimed. All was confusion, dismay, and sorrow ; for Moray had secured the affections of the nation. The regent, in the mean time, told his attendants that he was wounded ; but recovering from the sudden surprise, he dismounted, and demanded to be led to his lodgings. He revived so far as to be able to walk thither, and the medical attendants were quickly summoned, while the multitude and the inhabitants of the town expressed their sorrow by their lamentations and tears. At first it was thought that the wound w T as not mortal ; but towards evening the pain increased, and the unfortunate nobleman began to prepare himself for death. With all the calmness of a hero, a philosopher, and a Christian, he discoursed to those around him, and began to settle his affairs. When he was told by his friends that he had ruined himself by his clemency, having once spared the life of the assassin, which he might justly have taken, he replied with great composure and magnanimity, “ Your importunities and reflections do not make me repent of my clemency.” His latter end was becoming a Christian and a great man. After he had arranged all his family concerns, he felt the pains of disso- lution overtake him. He recommended the young king to the care of the nobles who were present; and, without speaking evil of any man, he expired a little before midnight, on the 23d day of January, 1570, in the thirty-eighth year of his age. Thus fell the earl of Moray, after he had escaped so many dangers. He was certainly an able governor, and an estima- ble man. Both Buchanan and Spottis- wood, though they differ in many things, have given him the highest character. “ His death,” says Buchanan, “was lament- ed by all good men, who loved him as the common father of his country: even his enemies confessed his merit when dead. They admired his valour in war, his ready disposition for peace, his activity in busi- ness, in which he was commonly very successful: the Divine favour seemed to shine on all his actions ; he was merciful to offenders, and equitable in all his deci- sions. When the field did not call for his presence, he was busied in the administra- ! tion of justice ; by which means the poor were not oppressed, and the terms of law- suits were shortened. His house was like a holy temple : after meals he caused a chapter of the Bible to be read, and asked the opinions of such learned men as were present, upon it ; not out of vain curiosity, but from a desire to learn, and reduce to practice what it contained.” In a word, he was, both in his public and private life, a pattern worthy of imitation ; and happy would it be for us, that our nobles were more disposed to walk in the paths in which he trode: — for, “above all his virtues,” says Spottiswood, “ which were not a few, he shone in piety towards God, ordering himself and his family in such a way, as did more resemble a church than a court ; for therein, besides the exercise of devotion, which he never omitted, there was no wickedness to be seen ; nay, not an un- seemly or wanton word to be heard. He was a man truly good, and worthy to be ranked among the best governors that this kingdom hath enjoyed, and therefore to JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 103 this day is honoured with the title of the Good Regent.” Nothing could exceed the dismay and surprise when the news of the regent’s assassination reached Edinburgh. The gates of the city were closed, and the senti- nels doubled on every post. His body was brought to the capital, amid the tears and the groans of the people. His many virtues, his vigorous administration, his talents, were all recollected with regret. Elizabeth lamented his loss as that of a faithful friend ; the reformed clergy were in sorrow and 1 despondency, pronouncing panegyrics on his public and private life. He was in- terred in the cathedral of St Giles, and his tomb is yet to be seen in that part of the cathedral called the old church. The monument is plain, yet not wanting in decoration. It is on the east side of the massive pillar, at the north end of which is the pulpit. Under this monument are the bones of the regent Moray. When the news of the regent’s death reached Mary’s prison, the tenderness of her nature overcame her, and she wept at the fate of a brother. According to her , belief, he was a heretic, and she shed tears of sorrow and anguish that he had died impenitent, unconfessed, unforgiven. She heard the account of his fate with a bursting heart, and exclaimed, “ Would that he had not died, till he had repented of his crimes towards his God, his country, and me.” Various are the characters given of him by historians, according to the factions to which they adhered. Possessed of the most splendid talents, with an ample revenue, and a person uncommonly at- tractive, he despised the life of an ecclesi- astic, and at an early age appeared on the arena of public affairs. His mind was naturally restless and active, and the period in which he lived afforded him opportunities to display his abilities. Zeal for religion and liberty were among his early charac- teristics. He was equally brave, resolute, and sagacious ; fitted either for the cabinet or the camp ; at once a diplomatist, a statesman, and a warrior. Though sur- rounded by difficulties, he was never over- come : he could rise superior to them all ; in adversity and prosperity, when either the exile or the favourite, he flourished : his profound penetration enabled him to foresee dangers, his prudence 'to prepare for them, and his fortitude to surmount them. His intrepidity, military skill, and vigour in the government are not denied even by his enemies ; and he is acknow- ledged to have been among the greatest captains and statesmen of his age. Without doubt, therefore, the regent Moray was a great and a good man. He j has the glory of achieving and establishing the reformation of religion ; and it has afforded him a fame brilliant and lasting. And whether we view him as at the head of the government in those times of tur- bulence, faction, and strife, or impartial in the dispensing of justice, restraining and repressing the wandering incursions of free- booters, and establishing universal peace and order over the country — we shall find that the Good Regent is the name by which he deserves to be long and affection- ately remembered among the people. SCOTS WORTHIES. 104 ■ — — ■ — — *- I I | I J JOHN KNOX. J JonN Knox was born in the year 1505. The place of his nativity has been disputed. The most prevailing opinion is, that he was born at Gifford, a village in East Lothian ; while the tradition of the country fixes his birth at Haddington, the principal town of the county. The name of his mother was Sinclair. ' His father was descended from an ancient and respectable family, who possessed the lands of Knock, Ranferly, and Craigends, in the shire of Renfrew. The descendants of this family have been accustomed to claim him as a cadet, and to enumerate among the honours of their house, its i giving birth to the Scottish reformer, a bishop of Raphoe, and of the Isles. At what period his ancestors removed from their original seat and settled in Lothian, has not been exactly ascertained. Some writers have asserted that our re- former’s parents were poor ; but this cannot be strictly true ; for they were able to give their son a liberal education, which, in that age, was far from being common. In his youth he was put to the grammar-school of Haddington ; and, after acquiring the principles of the Latin tongue there, was sent, by his father, to the university of St Andrews, at that time the most celebrated seminary in the kingdom. This was about j the year 1524 ; at which time George J Buchanan commenced his studies, under I the same masters, and in the same college of St Salvador. Here he had an opportunity of studying | the Aristotelian philosophy, scholastic the- ology, with canon and civil law, the prin- cipal branches cultivated in our universities. The Latin tongue was universally known among the learned at that time, but not so the Greek. Knox acquired the latter language before he reached middle age ; but we find him j j acknowledging, as late as the year 1550, |j that he was ignorant of Hebrew, a defect in his education which he exceedingly lamented, but which he afterwards got supplied during his exile on the continent. He studied under John Mair, or Major, to whom we have referred in our life of ] Patrick Hamilton. This famous preceptor j taught that the authority of kings and princes was originally derived from the j people ; that the former are not superior j to the latter collectively considered ; that if rulers become tyrannical, or employ their power for the destruction of their subjects, they may lawfully be controlled by them, and, proving incorrigible, may be deposed by the community as the superior power ; j and that tyrants may be judicially proceed- ! ed against, even to capital punishment. And as these opinions bear an affinity to 1 1 the political principles afterwards avowed ! by Knox, the influence pf the teacher is seen on the mind of the pupil. Knox soon became disgusted with mere ; scholastic learning, and began to seek entertainment more gratifying to his ardent j \ . 1 * i’E.OM A3* /ORIGINAL PAINTING. MacGregor, Poison k C° Glasgow. and inquisitive mind. Having set out in search of knowledge, as is the case with giant minds, he released himself from the trammels, and overleaped the boundaries, prescribed to him by his conductor. He followed the bent of his own mind, and, passing through the avenues of secular learning, devoted himself to the study of divine truth, and the labours of the sacred ministry. But we must not suppose, that Knox was able at once to divest himself of the prejudices of his education and of the times. Barren and repulsive as the scholastic studies appear to our minds, there was something in the intricate and subtle so- phistry then in vogue, calculated to fascinate the youthful and ingenious mind. It had a show of wisdom ; it exercised, although it did not feed the understanding ; it even gave play to the imagination, while it exceedingly flattered the pride of the adept. Nor was it easy for the person who had suffered himself to be drawn in, to break through or extricate himself from the mazy labyrinth. Accordingly, Knox continued for some time captivated with these studies, and prosecuted them with great success. After he was created master of arts, he taught philosophy, most probably as an assistant, or private lecturer in the univer- sity. His class became celebrated ; and he was considered as equalling, if not excelling, his master, in the subtleties of the dialectic art. About the same time, he was advanced to clerical orders, and ordained a priest, before he had reached the age fixed by the canons of the church ; although he had no other interest, except what was procured by his own merit, or the recommendations of his teachers. This must have taken place previous to the year 1530, at which time he was twenty-five years of age. It was not long, however, till his studies received a new direction, which led to a complete revolution in his religious senti- ments, and had an important influence on the j whole of his future life. Not satisfied with the excerpts from ancient authors, which • he found in the writings of the scholastic divines and canonists, he resolved to have , recourse to the original works. In them he found a method of investigating and communicating truth to which he had hitherto been a stranger ; the simplicity of which recommended itself to his mind, in spite of the prejudices of education, and I the pride of superior attainments in his own I favourite art. Among the fathers of the j Christian church, Jerome and Augustine ; attracted his particular attention. By the writings of the former, he was led to the ! | scriptures as the only pure fountain of divine truth, and instructed in the utility j of studying them in the original languages. In the works of the latter, he found reli- | gious sentiments very opposite to those taught in the Romish church, who, while she retained his name as a saint in her calendar, had banished his doctrine as heretical, from her pulpits. From this time he renounced the study of scholastic theology ; and, although not yet completely emancipated from superstition, his mind was fitted for improving the means which Providence had prepared, for leading him to a fuller and more comprehensive view of the system of evangelical religion. It I | was about the year 1535, when this favour- j j able change of his sentiments commenced ; i but, until 1542, it does not appear that he | professed himself a protestant. His change of views first discovered itself in his philosophical lectures, in which he began to forsake the scholastic path, | and to recommend to his pupils a more j rational and useful method of study. Even j this innovation excited against him violent j suspicions of heresy, which were confirmed, j when he proceeded to reprehend the cor- j ruptions which prevailed in the church. It was impossible for him, after this, to remain 0 SCOTS WORTHIES. 106 in safety at St Andrews, which was wholly under the power of cardinal Beaton, the most determined supporter of the Romish church, and enemy of all reform. He left that place, and retired to the south, where, within a short time, he avowed his full belief of the protestant doctrine. Provoked by his defection, and alarmed lest he should draw others after him, the clergy were anxious to rid themselves of such an adver- sary. Having passed sentence against him as a heretic, and degraded him from the priesthood, says Beza, the cardinal em- ployed assassins to way-lay him, by whose hands he must have fallen, had not Provi- dence placed him under the protection of the laird of Longniddrie. Thomas Guillaume, or Williams, was very useful to Knox, in leading him to a more perfect acquaintance with the truth. He was a friar of eminence, and along with John Rough, acted as chaplain to the earl of Arran, during the short time that he favoured the reformation, at the beginning of his regency, by whom he was employed in preaching in different parts of the king- dom. But the person to whom our re- former was most indebted, was George Wishart. Having relinquished all thoughts of officiating in that church, which had in- vested him with clerical orders, Knox had entered as tutor into the family of Hugh Douglas of Longniddrie, a gentleman in East Lothian, who had embraced the re- formed doctrines. John Cockburn of Ormiston, a neighbouring gentleman of the same persuasion, also put his son under his tuition. These young men were instructed by him in the principles of religion, as well as of the learned languages. He managed their religious instruction in such a way as to allow the rest of the family, and the people of the neighbourhood to reap advan- tage from it. He catechized them publicly I in a chapel at Longniddrie, in which he also read to them, at stated times, a chapter of the Bible, accompanied with explanatory remarks. The memory of this has been preserved by tradition, and the chapel, the ruins of which are still apparent, is popu- larly called John Knox’s kirk. It was not to be expected, that he would long be suffered to continue this employ- ment, under a government which was now entirely at the devotion of cardinal Beaton, who had gained over to his measures the timid and irresolute regent, Arran. But in the midst of his cruelties, and while he was planning still more desperate deeds, the cardinal was himself suddenly cut off.* Llis death did not, however, free Knox from persecution. John Hamilton, an illegitimate brother of the regent, who was nominated to the vacant bishopric, sought his life with as great eagerness as his pre- decessor. He was obliged to conceal him- self, and to remove from place to place, to provide for his safety. Wearied with this mode of living, and apprehensive that he would one day fall into the hands of his enemies, he came to the resolution of leaving Scotland. He had no desire to go to England ; because, although “ the pope’s name was suppressed” in that kingdom, “ his laws and corruptions remained in full vigour.” His determination was to visit Germany, and prosecute his studies in some of the protestant universities, until he should see a favourable change in the state of his native country. The lairds of Longniddrie and Ormiston were extremely reluctant to part with him, and, by their importunities, prevailed with him to take refuge, along with their sons, in the castle of St Andrews, which continued to be held by the con- j spirators. Knox entered the castle of St Andrews, at the time of Easter, 1547, and conducted the education of his pupils after his accus- * See our Life of Wishart, p. 57. JOHN KNOX. tomed manner. In the chapel within the castle, he read to them his lectures on the Scriptures, beginning at the place in the Gospel according to John, where he had left off at Longniddrie. He catechized them in the parish church belonging to the city. A number of persons attended both these exercises. Among those who had taken reftige in the castle (though not engaged in the conspiracy against the cardinal,) were John Rough, who, since his dismissal by the regent, had lurked in Kyle ; Sir David Lindsay of the Mount ; and Henry Belnaves of Halhill. These persons were so much pleased with Knox’s doctrine and mode of teaching, that they urged him to preach publicly to the people, and to become colleague to Rough, who acted as chaplain to the garrison. But he resisted all their solicitations, assigning as a reason, that he did not consider himself as having a call to this employment, and would not he guilty of intrusion. They did not, however, desist from their purpose ; but, having consulted with their brethren, came to a resolution, without his know- ledge, that a call should be publicly given him, in the name of the whole, to become one of their ministers. Accordingly, on a day fixed for the purpose, Rough preached a sermon on the election of ministers, in which he declared the power which a congregation, however small, had over any one in whom they per- ceived gifts suited to the office, and how dangerous it was for such a person to reject the call of those who desired instruction. Sermon being ended, the preacher turned to Knox, who was present, and addressed him in these words : “ Brother, you shall not he offended, although I speak unto you that which I have in charge, even from all those that are here present, which is this : In the name of God, and of his Son Jesus Christ, and in the name of all that presently call you by my mouth, I charge 107 you that you refuse not this holy vocation; but as you tender the glory of God, the increase of Christ’s kingdom, the edification of your brethren, and the comfort of me, whom you understand well enough to be oppressed by the multitude of labours, that you take upon you the public office and charge of preaching, even as you look to avoid God’s heavy displeasure, and desire that he shall multiply his graces unto you.” Then, addressing himself to the congrega- tion, he said, “ Was not this your charge unto me? and do ye not approve this vocation ?” They all answered, “ It was ; and we approve it.” Abashed and over- whelmed by this unexpected and solemn charge, Knox was unable to speak ; but bursting into tears, retired from the assem- bly, and shut himself up in his chamber. “ His countenance and behaviour from that day, till the day that he was compelled to present himself in the public place of preaching, did sufficiently declare the grief and trouble of his heart ; for no man saw any sign of mirth about him, neither had he pleasure to accompany any man for many days together,” His distress of mind on the present occasion proceeded from a higher source than the deficiency of some external for- malities in his call. He had no very different thoughts as to the importance of the ministerial office, from what he had entertained when ceremoniously invested with orders. The care of immortal souls, of whom he must give an account to the Chief Bishop ; the charge of declaring “ the whole counsel of God, keeping nothing back,” however ungrateful to his hearers, and of “preaching in season and out of season the manner of life, afflictions, persecutions, imprisonment, exile, and vio- lent death, to which the preachers of the protestant doctrine were exposed ; the hazard of his sinking under these hard- ships, and “ making shipwreck of faith and SCOTS WORTHIES. 108 a good conscience these, with similar considerations, rushed into his mind, and filled it with agitation and grief. At length, satisfied that he had the call of God to engage in this work, he composed his mind to a reliance on Him who had engaged to make his “ strength perfect in the weak- | ness” of his servants, and resolved, with the apostle, “ not to count his life dear, that he might finish with joy the ministry which he received of the Lord, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.” Often did he after- wards reflect with lively emotion upon this very interesting step of his life, and never, | in the midst of his greatest sufferings, did I he see reason to repent the choice which he had so deliberately made. His labours were so successful during the few months that he preached at St Andrews, that, besides those in the castle, a great number of the inhabitants of the town renounced popery, and made profes- sion of the protestant faith, by participating of the Lord’s supper, which he administer- ed to them in the manner afterwards practised in the reformed church of Scot- land. The gratification which he felt in these first-fruits of his ministry, was in some degree abated by instances of vicious conduct in those under his charge, some of whom were guilty of those acts of licen- tiousness too common among soldiery placed in similar circumstances. From i the time that he was chosen to be their | preacher, he openly rebuked these disor- ; ders, and when he perceived that his I I admonition failed in putting a stop to them, : he did not conceal his apprehensions of 1 1 the issue of the enterprise in which they ! were engaged. In the end of June, 1547, a French ! fleet, with a considerable body of land forces, under the command of Leo Strozzi, appeared before St Andrews, to assist the j governor in the reduction of the castle. It was invested both by sea and land ; and being disappointed of the expected aid from England, the besieged, after a brave and vigorous resistance, were under the neces- sity of capitulating to the French com- mander on the last day of July. The terms of the capitulation were honourable ; the lives of all that were in the castle were to be spared; they were to be transported to France, and if they did not choose to enter into the service of the French king, were to be conveyed to any other country which they might prefer, except Scotland. John Rough had left the castle previous to the commencement of the siege, and had retired to England. Knox, although he did not expect that the garrison would be able to hold out, could not prevail upon himself to desert his charge, and resolved to share with his brethren the hazard of the siege. Fie was conveyed along with the rest on board the fleet, which, in a few days, set sail for France, arrived at Fecamp, and, going up the Seine, anchored before Rouen. The capitulation was violated, and they were all detained prisoners of war, at the solicitation of the pope and the Scottish clergy. The principal gentle- men were incarcerated in Rouen, Cherburg, Brest, and Mount St Michael. Knox, with some others, was confined on board the galleys, bound with chains, and treated with all the indignities offered to heretics, in addition to the rigours of ordinary captivity. From Rouen they sailed to Nantes, and lay upon the Loire during the following winter. Solicitations, threatenings, and violence, were employed to make the pri- soners recant their religion, and counte- nance the popish worship ; but so great was their abhorrence of its idolatry, that not a single individual of the whole com- pany, on land or water, could be induced to symbolize in the smallest degree. While the prison-ships lay on the Loire, -mass was frequently said, and Salve Regina sung i JOHN KNOX. 109 ; on board, or on the shore within their hearing: on these occasions they were brought out and threatened with torture, [ if they did not give the usual signs of reve- rence; but instead of complying, they covered their heads as soon as the service | began. Knox has related a humorous | incident which took place on one of these I occasions ; and although he has not named | the person concerned in it, most probably I] it was himself. One day a fine painted j ' image of the Virgin was brought into one I I of the galleys, and presented to a Scots | prisoner to kiss. He desired the bearer j not to trouble him, for such idols were ! accursed, and he woukf not touch it. The i officers roughly replied, that he should, put it to his face, and thrust it into his hands. Upon this he took hold of the image, and watching his opportunity, threw [Knox throwing the Image overboard.] it into the river, saying, “ Lat our Ladie now save herself : sche is lycht anoughe, lat hir leirne to swime.” After this they were no more troubled in that way. The galleys returned to Scotland in summer 1548, as nearly as we can ascertain, and continued for a considerable time on the east coast, to watch for English vessels. Knox’s health was now greatly impaired by the severity of his confinement, and he was seized with a fever, during which his life was despaired of by all in the ship. But even in this state, his fortitude of mind remained unsubdued, and he com- forted his fellow-prisoners with hopes of release. To their anxious desponding inquiries (natural to men in their situation,) “ if he thought they would ever obtain their liberty,” his uniform answer was, “ God will deliver us to his glory, even in this life.” While they lay on the coast between Dundee and St Andrews, Mr (afterwards Sir) James Balfour, who was confined in the same ship, desired him to look to the land, and see if he knew it. Though at that time very sick, he replied, “ Yes, I know it well ; for I see the steeple of that place where God first opened my mouth in public to his glory ; and I am fully per- suaded, how weak soever I now appear, that I shall not depart this life, till that my tongue shall glorify his godly name in the same place.” This striking reply Sir James repeated, in the presence of many witnesses, a number of years before Knox returned to Scotland, and when there was very little prospect of his words being verified. We must not, however, think that he possessed this elevation and tranquillity of mind, during the whole time of his impri- sonment. When first thrown into cruel bonds, insulted by his enemies, and without any apparent prospect of release, he was not a stranger to the anguish of despond- ency, so pathetically described by the royal Psalmist of Israel. He felt that conflict in his spirit, with which all good men are acquainted ; and which becomes peculiarly sharp when joined with corporal affection. But, having had recourse to prayer, the never-failing refuge of the oppressed, he was relieved from all his fears ; and, reposing upon the promise and providence of the God whom he served, attained to “ the confidence and rejoicing of hope / I i 1 110 SCOTS WORTHIES. 1 When free from fever, he relieved the tedium of captivity by committing to writing a confession of his faith, containing the substance of what he had taught at St Andrews, with a particular account of the 1 disputation which he had maintained in St 1 Leonard’s Yards. This he found means 1 to convey to his religious acquaintances in | Scotland, accompanied with an earnest exhortation to persevere in the faith which they had professed, whatever persecutions i they might suffer for its sake. To this I confession he afterwards refers, in the 1 j defence of his doctrine before the bishop of | { Durham. “ Let no man think, that because ! I am in the realm of England, therefore so ; boldly I speak. No, God hath taken that | suspicion from me. For the body Ling in j most painful bands in the midst of cruel | tyrants, his mercy and goodness provided , that the hand should write and bear witness to the confession of the heart, more abun- | j dantly than ever yet the tongue spake.” I I Notwithstanding the rigour of their con- j ; finement,the prisoners, who were separated, ; found opportunities of occasionally corre- ; sponding with one another. Henry Bal- : naves of Halhill composed in his prison a Treatise on Justification, and the Works and Conversation of a Justified Man. This being conveyed to Knox, probably after j his second return in the galleys from Scot- land, he was so much pleased with it, that he divided it into chapters, added some marginal notes, and a concise epitome of its contents ; to the whole he prefixed a recommendatory dedication, intending that it should be published for the use of their brethren in Scotland, as soon as an oppor- tunity offered. The reader will not, we are persuaded, be displeased to breathe a | little the spirit which animated this un- ' daunted confessor, when “ his feet lay fast in irons,” as expressed by him in this dedication ; from which we shall quote more freely, as the book is rare. 1 It is thus described : “ John Knox, the bound servant of Jesus Christ, unto his ; best beloved brethren of the congregation of the castle of St Andrews, and to all professors of Christ’s true evangel, desireth j grace, mercy, and peace, from God the j Father, with perpetual consolation of the j Holy Spirit.” After mentioning a number of instances in which the name of God was magnified, and the interests of religion j j advanced, bv the exile of those who were ; J . . . ■ 1 driven from their native countries by tyranny, as in the examples of Joseph, Moses, Daniel, and the primitive chris- j 1 tians, he goes on thus : “ Which thing shall openly declare this godly work subse- j quent. The counsel of Satan in the per- | secution of us, first, was to stop the whole- some wind of Christ’s evangel to blow ! upon the parts where we converse and j dwell ; and secondly, so to oppress ourselves i by corporal affliction and worldly calamities, ; that no place should we find to godly study. But by the great mercy and in- finite goodness of God our Father shall these his counsels be frustrate and vain. For, in despite of him and all his wicked members, shall yet that same word (0 Lord ! this I speak, confiding in thy holy promise,) openly be proclaimed in that same country. And now that our merciful Father, amongst these tempestuous storms, by all men’s expectation, hath provided \ some rest for us, this present work shall testify, which was sent to me in Roane, lying in irons, and sore troubled by corporal infirmity, in a galley named Notre Dame, i by an honourable brother, Mr Henry Bal- j naves of Halhill, for the present holden as | prisoner (though unjustly), in the old palace of Roane. Which work after I had once again read to the great comfort and conso- lation of my spirit, by counsel and advice of the foresaid noble and faithful man, author of the said work, I thought expe- dient it ‘should be digested in chapters, &c. , JOHN KNOX. Which thing I have done as imbecility of ingine [i. e. genius or wit] and incommodity of place would permit; not so much to illustrate the work (which in the self is godly and perfect) as, together with the foresaid nobleman and faithful brother, to give my confession of the article of justifi- cation therein contained. And I beseech you, beloved brethren, earnestly to consider, if we deny anything presently, (or yet con- ceal and hide,) which any time before we professed in that article. And now we have not the castle of St Andrews to be our defence, as some of our enemies falsely accused us, saying, If we wanted our walls, we would not speak so boldly. — But blessed be that Lord whose infinite goodness and wisdom hath taken from us the occasion of that slander, and hath shown unto us, that the serpent hath power only to sting the heel, that is, to molest and trouble the flesh, but not to move the spirit, from con- stant adhering to Christ Jesus, nor public professing of his true word. O blessed be thou, Eternal Father, which, by thy only mercy, hast preserved us to this day, and provided that the confession of our faith (which ever we desired all men to have known), should, by this treatise, come plainly to ‘light. Continue, O Lord, and grant unto us, that as now with pen and ink, so shortly we may confess with voice and tongue the same before thy congregation ; upon whom look, O Lord God, with the eyes of thy mercy, and suffer no more darkness to prevail. I pray you, pardon me, beloved brethren, that on this manner, I digress ; vehemence of spirit (the Lord knoweth I lie not,) compelleth me thereto.” The prisoners in Mount St Michael consulted Knox, as to the lawfulness of attempting to escape by breaking their prison, which was opposed by some of their number, lest their escape should subject their brethren who remained in confine- ment to more severe treatment. He re- 111 turned for answer, that such fears were not a sufficient reason for relinquishing the design, and that they might, with a safe conscience, effect their escape, provided it could be done “ without the blood of any shed or spilt ; but to shed any man’s blood for their freedom, he would never consent.” The attempt was accordingly made by them, and successfully executed, without harm done to the person of any, and with- out touching anything that appertained to the king, the captain, or the house.” At length, after enduring a tedious and severe imprisonment of nineteen months, Knox obtained his liberty. This happened in the month of February, 1549, according | to the modem computation. By what | means his liberation was procured, we j cannot certainly determine. One account ! says, that the galley in which he was con- j fined, was taken in the Channel by the English. According to another account, I he was liberated by order of the king of ! France ; because it appeared, on examina- tion, that he was not concerned in the ! murder of the cardinal, nor accessory to j other crimes committed by those who held the castle of St Andrews. Others say, that his acquaintances purchased his liberty, j induced by the hopes which they cherished | of great things to be accomplished by him. i It is not improbable, however, that he ! owed his liberty to the circumstance of the French court having now accomplished j their great object in Scotland, by the con- ! sent of the parliament to the marriage of their young queen to the dauphin, and by obtaining possession of her person ; after which they felt less inclined to revenge the quarrels of the Scottish clergy. Upon regaining his liberty, Knox imme- diately repaired to England, under the most favourable circumstances ; for Henry VIII. died in the year 1547, and arch- bishop Cranmer, freed from the restraint of his capricious master, exerted himself 112 SCOTS WORTHIES. in advancing the reformation. He had invited learned protestants from Germany, who, with our zealous countryman, were employed as preachers, itinerating through different parts of the kingdom, where the clergy were most illiterate or disaffected, and the inhabitants most addicted to super- ; stition. The reputation which Knox had gained ! by preaching at St Andrews was not un- i known in England, and his late sufferings recommended him to Cranmer and the 1 privy council. He was accordingly, soon after his arrival in England, sent down i from London, by their authority, to preach in Berwick ; a situation the more accepta- ble to him, as it afforded him an opportu- ! nity to ascertain the state of religion in his native country, to correspond with his friends, and impart to them his advice. The council had every reason to be pleased with the choice which they had made of a northern preacher. He had long thirsted for the opportunity which he now enjoyed. His captivity, during which he had felt the powerful support which the protestant 1 doctrine yielded to his mind, had inflamed s his love to it, and his zeal against popery. He spared neither time nor bodily strength in the instruction of those to whom he was sent. Regarding the worship of the popish church as grossly idolatrous, and its doc- trine as damnable, he attacked both with the utmost fervour, and exerted himself in drawing his hearers from them, with as much eagerness as in saving their lives from a devouring flame or flood. Nor were his labours fruitless : during the two years that he continued in Berwick, num- bers were, by his ministry, converted from error and ignorance, and a general refor- mation of manners became visible among the soldiers of the garrison, who had for- merly been noted for turbulence and licen- tiousness. The labours of Knox within the diocese | of Tonstal, bishop of Durham, mpst have been very disagreeable to the latter. As the preacher acted under the sanction of j the protector and council, he durst not inhibit him ; but he was disposed to listen to and encourage informations lodged by the clergy against the doctrine which he taught. Although the town of Berwick was Knox’s principal station during the years 1549 and 1550, it is probable that he was appointed to preach occasionally in the adjacent country. Whether, in the course of his itinerancy, he had, in the beginning of 1550, gone as far as Newcastle, and preached in that town, or whether he was called up to it, in consequence of complaints against his sermons delivered at Berwick, does not clearly appear. It is, however, certain, that a charge was exhibited against him before the bishop, for teaching that the sacrifice of the mass was idolatrous, : and a day appointed for him publicly to j assign his reasons for this opinion. Ac- | cordingly, on the 4th of April, 1550, a great assembly being convened at New- j castle, among whom were the members of the council, the bishop of Durham, and the learned men of his cathedral, Knox delivered, in their presence, an ample defence of the doctrine, against which com- plaints had been made. After an appro- priate exordium, in which he stated to the audience the occasion and design of his appearance before them, and cautioned them against the powerful prejudices of education and custom in favour of erroneous opinions and practices in religion, he pro- ceeded to establish the doctrine which he had taught. The mode in which he treated the subject was well adapted to his audi- tory, which was composed of the unlearned as well as the learned. He proposed his arguments in the syllogistic form, according to the practice of the schools, hut illustrated them with a plainness level to the meanest capacity among his hearers. Passing over i — JOHN KNOX. the morg gross notions, and the shameful traffic in masses, extremely common at that time, he engaged to prove that the mass, “ in her most high degree, and most honest garments, was an idol struck from the inventive brain of superstition, which had supplanted the sacrament of the supper, and engrossed the honour due to the per- son and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. “ Spare no arrows,” was the motto which Knox wore on his standard ; the authority of scripture, and the force of reasoning, grave reproof, and pointed irony, were in their turn employed by him. In the course of this defence, he did not restrain those sallies of raillery, which the fooleries of the popish superstition irresistibly provoke, even from those who are deeply impressed with its pernicious tendency. Before con- cluding, he adverted to certain doctrines which had been taught in that place on the preceding Sunday, the falsehood of which he was prepared to demonstrate ; but he would, in the first place, he said, submit to the preacher the notes of the sermon which he had taken down, that he might correct them as he saw proper ; for his object was not to misrepresent or captiously entrap a speaker, by catching at words unadvisedly uttered, but to defend the truth, and warn his hearers against errors destructive to their souls. This defence had the effect of extending Knox’s fame through the north of England, while it completely silenced the bishop and his learned suffragans. He continued to preach at Berwick during the remaining part of this year, and in the following was removed to Newcastle, and placed in a sphere of greater usefulness. In December, 1551, the privy council conferred on him a mark of their approbation, by appointing him one of king Edward’s chaplains in ordinary. “ It was appointed,” says his majesty, in a journal of important transac- tions which he wrote with his own hand, “ that I should have six chaplains in ordi- nary, of which two ever to be present, and four absent in preaching ; one year two in Wales, two in Lancashire and Derby ; next year two in the marches of Scotland, and two in Yorkshire ; the third year two in Norfolk and Essex, and two in Kent and Sussex. These six to be Bill, Harle, Perne, Grindal, Bradford, and .” The name of the sixth has been dashed out of the journal, but the industrious Strype has shown that it was Knox. “ These, it seems,” says bishop Burnet, “were the most zealous and readiest preachers, who were sent about as itinerants, to supply the defects of the greatest part of the clergy, who were generally very faulty.” An annual salary of £40 was allotted to each of the chaplains. In the course of the year, Knox was consulted about the Book of Common Prayer, which was undergoing a review. On that occasion it is probable that he was called up to London for a short time. Although the persons who had the chief direction of ecclesiastical affairs were not disposed, or did not think it yet expedient, to introduce thfft thorough reform which he judged necessary, in order to reduce the worship of the English church to the Scripture model, his representations were not altogether disregarded. He had in- fluence to procure an important change on the communion office, completely excluding the notion of the corporeal presence of Christ in the sacrament, and guarding against the adoration of the elements, too much countenanced by the practice of kneeling at their reception, which was still continued. Knox speaks of these amend- ments with great satisfaction, in his Ad- monition to the Professors of Truth in England. “ Also God gave boldness and knowledge to the court of parliament to take away the round clipped god , wherein standeth all the holiness of the papists, and p SCOTS WORTHIES. i 114 to command common bread to be used at the Lord’s table, and also to take away most part of superstitions (kneeling at the Lord’s table excepted), which before profaned Christ’s true religion.” These alterations gave great offence to the papists. In a dis- putation with Latimer, after the accession of queen Mary, the prolocutor, Dr Weston, complained of our countryman’s influence in procuring them. “ A runagate Scot did take away the adoration or worshipping of Christ in the sacrament, by whose pro- curement that heresie was put into the last communion book ; so much prevailed that one man’s authoritie at the time.” In the following year he was employed in revising the Articles of Religion previous to their ratification by parliament. During his residence at Berwick, Knox had formed an acquaintance with Miss Mar- jory Bowes, a young lady who afterwards became his wife. She belonged to the j honourable family of Bowes, and was nearly allied to Sir Robert Bowes, a distinguished courtier during the reigns of Henry VIII. and his son Edward. Before he left Ber- wick, he had paid his addresses to this young lady, and met with a favourable reception. Her mother was also friendly to the match ; but, owing to some reason, most probably the presumed aversion of her father, it was deemed prudent to delay the consummating of the union. But hav- ing come under a formal promise to her, he considered himself as sacredly bound, and, in his letters to Mrs Bowes, always address- ed her by the name of mother. Without derogating from the praise justly due to those worthy men, who were at this time employed in disseminating religious truth through England, we may say that our countryman was not behind the first of them, in the unwearied assiduity with which he laboured in the stations assigned to him. From an early period, his mind seems to have presaged, that the golden opportunity enjoyed would not be of long duration. He was eager to “redeem j the time,” and indefatigable both in his j studies and teaching. In addition to his ! ordinary services on Sabbath, he preached j regularly on weekdays, frequently on every i day of the week. Besides the portion of time which he allotted to study, he was often employed in conversing with persons who applied to him for advice on religious subjects. The council were not insensible to the value of his services, and conferred on him several marks of approbation. They wrote different letters to the gover- nors and principal inhabitants of the places where he preached, recommending him to their notice and protection. They secured him in the regular payment of his salary, until such time as he should be provided with a benefice. It was also out of respect to him, that, in September, 1552, they granted a patent to his brother William Knox, a merchant, giving him liberty, for a limited time, to trade to any port of England, in a vessel of a hundred tons burden. But the things which recommended j Knox to the council, drew upon him the j hatred of a numerous and powerful party j in the northern counties, who remained addicted to popery. Irritated by his bold- ness and success in attacking their super- stition, and sensible that it would be vain, and even dangerous, to prefer an accusation against him on that ground, they watched for an opportunity of catching at something in his discourses or behaviour, which they might improve to his disadvantage. He had long observed, with great anxiety, the impatience with which the papists sub- mitted to the present government, and their eager desires for any change which might lead to the overthrow of the pro- testant religion ; desires which were ex- pressed by them in the north, without that reserve which prudence dictated in places JOHN KNOX. 115 adjacent to the seat of authority. He had witnessed the joy with which they had received the news of the protector’s fall, and was no stranger to the satisfaction j with which they circulated prognostications | as to the speedy demise of the king. In a sermon preached by him about Christmas, 1552, he gave vent to his feelings on the subject; and, lamenting the obstinacy of the papists, asserted that such as were enemies to the gospel, then preached in England, were secret traitors to the crown and commonwealth, — thirsted for nothing more than his majesty’s death, and cared not who should reign over them, provided they got their idolatry again erected. This free speech was immediately laid hold on by his enemies, and transmitted, with many aggravations, to some great men about court, secretly in their interest, who there- fore preferred a charge against him, for | high offences, before the privy council. In taking this step, they were not a little encouraged by their knowledge of the sentiments of the duke of Northumber- land, who had lately come down to his charge as warden-general of the northern marches. This ambitious and unprincipled nobleman had employed his affected zeal for the reformed religion, as a stirrup to mount to the highest preferment in the state, which he had recently procured by the ruin of the duke of Somerset, the pro- tector of the kingdom. Knox had offended him by publicly lamenting the fall of So- merset, as threatening danger to the refor- mation, of which he had always shown himself a zealous friend, whatever his other faults might have been. Nor could the freedom which the preacher used, in re- proving from the pulpit the vices of great as well as small, fail to be displeasing to a | man of Northumberland’s character. On these accounts, he was desirous to have Knox removed from that quarter, and had actually applied for this, by a letter to the council, previous to the occurrence just mentioned ; alleging, as a pretext, the great resort of Scotsmen unto him : as if any real danger was to be apprehended from this intercourse with a man, of whose fidelity the existing government had so many strong pledges, and who uniformly employed all his influence to remove the prejudices of his countrymen against England. In consequence of the charges exhibited against him to the council, he received a j citation to repair immediately to London, and answer for his conduct. The following extract of a letter, addressed, “ to his sister,” will show the state of his mind on receiving the summons : “ Urgent necessity will not suffer that I testify my mind to you. My lord of Westmoreland has written to me this Wednesday, at six of the clock at night, immediately thereafter to repair unto him, as I will answer at my peril. I could not obtain licence to remain the time of the sermon upon the morrow. Blessed be God who does ratify and confirm the truth of his word from time to time, as our weakness shall require ! Your adver- sary, sister, doth labour that you should doubt whether this be the word of God or not. If there had never been testimonial of the undoubted truth thereof before these our ages, may not such things as we see daily come to pass prove the verity thereof? Doth it not affirm, that it shall be preached, and yet contemned and lightly regarded by many ; that the true professors thereof shall be hated by father, mother, and others of the contrary religion ; that the most faithful shall be persecuted ? And cometh not all these things to pass in ourselves ? Rejoice, sister, for the same word that forespeaketh trouble doth certify us of the glory consequent. As for myself, albeit j the extremity should now apprehend me, it is not come unlooked for. But, alas ! I j fear that yet I be not ripe nor able to I SCOTS WORTHIES. 116 glorify Christ by my death; but what lacketh now, God shall perform in his own time. Be sure I will not forget you and your company, so long as mortal man may remember earthly creature.” Upon reaching London he found that his enemies had been uncommonly indus- trious in exciting prejudices against him, by transmitting the most false and injurious information. But the council, after hearing his defences, were convinced of their malice, and honourably acquitted him. He was employed to preach before the court, and gave great satisfaction, particularly to his majesty, who contracted a favour for him, and was very desirous to have him pro- moted in the church. It was resolved by the council that he should preach in Lon- don, and the southern counties, during the year 1553 ; but he was allowed to return for a short time to Newcastle, either to settle his affairs, or as a public testimony of his innocence. In a letter to his sister, dated Newcastle, 23d March, 1553, we find him writing as follows : “ Look further of this matter in the other letter, written unto you at such a time as many thought I should never write after to man. Hei- nous were the delations laid against me, and many are the lies that are made to the council. But God one day shall destroy all lying tongues, and shall deliver his servants from calamity. I look but one day or other to fall into their hands ; for more and more rageth the members of the devil against me. This assault of Satan has been to his confusion, and to the glory of God. And therefore, sister, cease not to praise God, and to call for my comfort ; for great is the multitude of enemies, whom every one the Lord shall confound. I intend not to depart from Newcastle before Easter.” The vigour of his constitution had been greatly impaired by his confinement in the French galleys, which, together with his labours in England, had brought on a gravel. In the course of the year 1553, he endured several violent attacks of this acute disorder, accompanied with severe pain in his head and stomach. “ My daily labours must now increase,” says he, in the letter last quoted, “ and therefore spare me as much as you may. My old malady troubles me sore,, and nothing is more con - trarious to my health than writing. Think not that I weary to visit you ; but unless my pain shall cease, I will altogether be- come unprofitable. Work, O Lord, even as pleaseth thy infinite goodness, and relax the troubles, at thy own pleasure, of such as seeketh thy glory to shine. Amen.” In another letter to the same correspondent, he writes — “ the pain of my head and stomach troubles me greatly. Daily I find my body decay ; but the providence of my God shall not be frustrate. I am charged to be at Widrington on Sunday, where I think I shall also remain Monday. The Spirit of the Lord Jesus rest with you. Desire such faithful as with whom ye com- municate your mind, to pray that, at the pleasure of our good God, my dolour both of body and spirit may be relieved some- what; for presently it is very bitter. Never found I the Spirit, I praise my God, so abundant where God’s glory ought to be declared; and therefore I am sure that there abides something that yet we see not.” “ Your messenger,” says he in another letter, “ found me in bed, after a sore trouble and most dolorous night ; and so dolour may complain to dolour when we two meet. But the infinite goodness of God, who never despiseth the petitions of a sore troubled heart, shall, at his good pleasure, put end to these pains that we presently suffer, and in place thereof shall crown us with glory and immortality for ever. But, dear sister, I am even of mind with faithful Job, yet most sore tormented, that my pain shall have no end in this life. JOHN KNOX. 117 The power of God may, against the pur- pose of my heart, alter such things as appear not to be altered, as he did unto Job ; but dolour and pain, with sore an- guish, cries the contrary. And this is more plain than ever I spake, to let you know ye have a fellow and companion in trouble, and thus rest in Christ, for the head of the serpent is already broken down, and he is stinging us upon the heel.” About the beginning of April, 1553, he returned to London. In the month of February preceding, archbishop Cranmer had been desired by the council to present him to the vacant living of All- Hallows in that city. This proposal, which originated in the personal favour of the young king, was very disagreeable to Northumberland, who exerted himself privately to hinder his preferment. His interference was, how- ever, unnecessary on the present occasion ; for when the living was offered to him, Knox declined it, and when questioned as to his reasons, readily acknowledged, that he had not freedom in his mind to accept of a fixed charge, in the present state of the English church. His refusal, with the reason assigned, having given offence, he was, on the 14th of April, called before the privy council. There were present the archbishop of Canterbury ; Goodrick, bishop of Ely and lord chancellor ; the earls of Bedford, Northampton, and Shrewsbury; the lords treasurer and chamberlain, with the two secretaries. They asked him, why he had refused the benefice provided for him in London ? He answered, that he was fully satisfied that he could be more useful to the church in another situation. Being interrogated, If it was his opinion, that no person could lawfully serve in ecclesiastical ministrations, according to the present laws of the realm ? he frankly replied, That there were many things which needed reformation, without which ministers could not, in his opinion, dis- charge their office conscientiously in the sight of God ; for no minister, according to the existing laws, had power to prevent the unworthy from participating of the sacra- ments, “which was a chief point of his office.” He was asked, If kneeling at the Lord’s table was not indifferent ? He re- plied, that Christ’s action was most perfect, and in it no such posture was used ; that it was most safe to follow his example ; and that kneeling was an addition and an in- vention of men. On this article there was a smart dispute between him and some of the lords of the council. After long rea- soning he was told, that they had not sent for him with any bad design, but were sorry to understand that he was of a con- trary judgment to the common order. He said he was sorry that the common order was contrary to Christ’s institution. They dismissed him with soft speeches, advising him to endeavour to bring his mind to communicate according to the established rites. If honours and emoluments could have biassed the independent mind of our countryman, he must have been induced to become a full conformist to the English church. At the special request of Edward VI., and with the concurrence of his council, he was offered a bishopric; but the same reasons which prevented him from accepting the living of All- Hallows, determined him to reject this more tempt- ing offer. The fact is attested by Beza, who adds, that his refusal was accompanied with a censure of the episcopal office, as destitute of divine authority, and not even exercised in England according to the ecclesiastical canons. Knox himself speaks in one of his treatises of the “ high promo- tion offered to him by Edward ;” and we shall find him at a later period of his life expressly asserting that he had refused a bishopric. During the time that Knox was in SCOTS WORTHIES. 118 London, he had full opportunity for ob- serving the state of the court ; and the observations which he made filled his mind with the most anxious forebodings. Of the piety and sincerity of the young king, he entertained not the smallest doubt. Personal acquaintance heightened the idea which he had conceived of his character from report, and enabled him to add his testimony to the tribute of praise, which all who knew that prince have so cheerfully paid to his uncommon virtues and endow- ments. But the principal courtiers by whom he was at that time surrounded, were persons of a very different descrip- tion, and gave proofs, too unequivocal to be mistaken, of indifference to all religion, and readiness to fall in with and forward the re-establishment of the ancient super- stition, whenever this might be required upon a change of rulers. The health of Edward, which had long been declining, growing gradually worse, so that no hope of his recovery remained, they were eager only about the aggrandizing of their families, and providing for the security of their places and fortunes. The royal chaplains were men of a very different stamp from those who have usually occupied that place in the courts of princes. They were no time-serving, supple, smooth-tongued parasites ; they were not afraid of forfeiting their pensions, or of alarming the consciences, and wound- ing the delicate ears of their roygl and noble auditors, by denouncing the vices which they committed, and the judgments of Heaven to which they exposed them- selves. The freedom used by the venera- ble Latimer is well known from his printed sermons, which for their homely honesty, artless simplicity, native humour, and genuine pictures of the manners of the age, continue still to be read with interest. Grindal, Lever, and Bradford, who were superior to him in learning, evinced the same fidelity and courage. They censured the ambition, avarice, luxury, oppression, and irreligion which reigned in the court. As long as their sovereign was able to give personal attendance on the sermons, the preachers were treated with exterior decency and respect ; but after he was confined to his chamber by a consumptive cough, the resentment of the courtiers vent- ed itself openly in the most contumelious speeches and insolent behaviour. Those who are acquainted with our countryman’s character, will readily conceive that the sermons delivered by him at court, were not less bold and free than those of his colleagues. We may form a judgment of them, from the account which he has given of the last sermon which he preached before his majesty, in which he directed several piercing glances of reproof at the haughty premier, and his crafty relation, the marquis of Winchester, lord high treasurer, both of whom were among his hearers. On the 6th of July, 1553, Edward VI. departed this life, to the unspeakable grief of all the lovers of learning, virtue, and the protestant religion ; and a black cloud spread over England, which, after hovering a while, burst into a dreadful hurricane, that raged during five years with the most destructive fury. Knox was at this time in London. He received the afflicting tidings of his majesty’s decease with be- coming fortitude, and resignation to the sovereign will of Heaven. The event did not meet him unprepared: he had long anticipated it, with its probable conse- quences ; the prospect had produced the keenest anguish in his breast, and drawn tears from his eyes ; and he had frequently introduced the subject into his public dis- courses and confidential conversations with his friends. Writing to Mrs Bowes, some time after this, he says : “ How oft have you and I talked of these present days, till neither of us both could refrain tears. JOHN KNOX. 119 when no such appearance then was seen of man ! How oft have I said unto you, that I looked daily for trouble, and that I wondered at it, that so long I should escape it ! What moved me to refuse (and that with displeasure of all men, even of those that best loved me,) those high pro- motions that were offered by him whom God hath taken from us for our offences ? Assuredly the foresight of trouble to come. How oft have I said unto you that the time would not be long that England would give me bread ? Advise with the last letter that I wrote unto your brother- in-law, and consider what is therein con- tained.” He remained in London until the 19th of July, when Mary was proclaimed queen, only nine days after the same ceremony had been performed in that city, for the amiable and unfortunate lady Jane Grey. He was so affected with the thoughtless demonstrations of joy given by the in- habitants at an event which threatened such danger to the religious faith which they still avowed, that he could not refrain from publicly testifying his displeasure, and warning them in his sermons of the calami- ties which they might look for. Imme- diately after this, he seems to have with- drawn from London, and retired to the north, being justly apprehensive of the measures which might be pursued by the new government. To induce the protestants to submit peaceably to her government, Mary amused them for some time with proclamations, in which she promised not to do violence to their consciences. Though aware of the bigotry of the queen, and the spirit of the religion to which she was devoted, the protestant ministers reckoned it their duty to improve this respite. In the month of August, Knox returned to the south, and resumed his labours. It seems to have been at this time that he composed the Confession and Prayer, which he com- monly used in the congregations to which he preached, in which he prayed for queen Mary by name, and for the suppression of such as meditated rebellion. While he itinerated through Buckinghamshire, he was attended by large audiences, which his popularity and the alarming crisis drew together ; especially at Amersham, a borough formerly noted for the general reception of the doctrines of Wickliffe, the precursor of the reformation in England, and from which the seed sown by his followers had never been altogether eradi- cated. Wherever he went, he earnestly exhorted the people to repentance under the tokens of divine displeasure, and to a steady adherence to the faith which they had embraced. He continued to preach in Buckinghamshire and Kent during the harvest months, although the measures of j government daily rendered his safety more i precarious ; and in the beginning of No- j vember, returned to London, where he resided in the houses of Mr Locke and Mr Hickman, two respectable merchants of his acquaintance. While the measures of the new govern- ment threatened danger to all the pro- testants in the kingdom, and our country- man was under daily apprehension of imprisonment, he met with a severe trial of a private nature. We have already mentioned his engagements to Miss Bowes. At this time, it was judged proper by both ; parties to avow the connexion, and to pro- i ceed to solemnize the union. This step was opposed by the young lady’s father ; and his opposition was accompanied with circumstances which gave much distress to Knox, Mrs Bowes, and her daughter. His refusal seems to have proceeded from family pride ; but we are inclined to think that it was also influenced by religious considerations ; as from different hints dropped in the correspondence, Mr Bowes SCOTS WORTHIES. 120 appears to have been, if not inclined to popery in his judgment, at least resolved to comply with the religion now favoured by the court. We find Knox writing to Mrs Bowes on this subject from London, in a letter, dated 20th September, 1553 : “ My great labours, wherein I desire your daily prayers, will not suffer me to satisfy my mind touching all the process between I your husband and you, touching my matter with his daughter. I praise God heartily, both for your boldness and constancy. But I beseech you, mother, trouble not yourself too much therewith. It becomes me now to jeopard my life for the comfort and deliverance of my own flesh, as that I will do, by God’s grace, both fear and friendship of all earthly creatures laid aside. I have written to your husband, the contents whereof I trust our brother Harry will declare to you and to my wife. If I escape ; sickness and imprisonment, [you may] be sure to see me soon.” His wife and mother-in-law were very anxious that he should settle in Berwick, : or the neighbourhood of it, where he might j perhaps be allowed to reside peaceably, | although in a more private way than for- I merly. But for this purpose some pecu- niary provision was requisite. Since the accession of queen Mary, the payment of | the salary allotted to him by government had been stopped. Indeed, he had not received any part of it for the last twelve months. His wife’s relations were abun- dantly able to give him a sufficient estab- lishment, but their dissatisfaction with the marriage rendered them averse. Induced by the importunity of his mother-in-law, he applied to Sir Robert Bowes at Lon- don, and attempted, by a candid explana- i tion of all circumstances, to remove any ; umbrage which he had conceived against him, and procure an amicable settlement of the whole affair. He communicated the unfavourable issue of this interview, in a letter to Mrs Bowes, of which the follow- ing is an extract : — “ Hear Mother, so may and will I call you, not only for the tender affection I bear unto you in Christ, but also for the motherly kindness ye have shown unto me at all times since our first acquaintance, albeit such things as I have desired (if it had pleased God), and ye and others have long desired, are never like to come to pass, yet shall ye be sure that my love and care toward you shall never abate, so long as I can care for any earthly creature. Ye shall understand that this 6th of No- vember, I spake with Sir Robert Bowes, on the matter ye know, according to your request, whose disdainful, yea, despiteful words, hath so pierced my heart, that my life is bitter unto me. I bear a good countenance with a sore troubled heart ; while he that ought to consider matters with a deep judgment is become not only a despiser, but also a taunter of God’s messengers. God be merciful unto him. Among other his most unpleasing words, while that I was about to have declared my part in the whole matter, he said, ‘ Away with your rhetorical reasons, for I will not be persuaded with them.’ God knows I did use no rhetoric or coloured speech, but would have spoken the truth, and that in most simple manner. I am not a good oratour in my own cause. But what he would not be content to hear of me, God shall declare to him one day to his displeasure, unless he repent. It is supposed that all the matter comes by you and me. I pray God that your conscience were quiet, and at peace, and I regard not what country consume this my wicked carcass. And were [it] not that no man’s unthankfulness shall move me (God sup- porting my infirmity) to cease to do profit | unto Christ’s congregation, those days should be few that England w r ould give me bread. And I fear that, when all is done, JOHN KNOX. 121 I shall be driven to that end ; for I cannot abide the disdainful hatred of those, of whom not only I thought I might have craved kindness, but also to whom God hath been by me more liberal than they be thankful. But so must men declare them- selves. Affection does trouble me at this present : yet I doubt not to overcome by him, who will not leave comfortless his afflicted to the end: whose omnipotent Spirit rest with you. Amen. He refers to the same disagreeable affair in another letter written about the end of this year. After mentioning the bad state of his health, which had been greatly increased by distress of mind, he adds, “ It will be after the 12th day before I can be at Berwick ; and almost I am determined not to come at all. Ye know the cause. God be more merciful unto some, than they are equitable unto me in judgment. The testimony of my conscience absolves me, before his face who looks not upon the presence of man.” These extracts show us the heart of the writer ; they dis- cover the sensibility of his temper, the keenness of his feelings, and his pride and independence of spirit struggling with affection to his relations, and a sense of duty. About the end of November, or begin- ning of December, he returned from the south to Newcastle. The parliament had by this time repealed all the laws made in favour of the reformation, and restored the Roman catholic religion ; but liberty was reserved, to such as pleased to observe the protestant worship, until the 20th of De- cember. After that period they were thrown out of the protection of the law, and exposed to the pains decreed against heretics. Many of the bishops and minis- ters were committed to prison ; others had escaped beyond sea. Knox could not however prevail on himself either to flee the kingdom, or to desist from preaching. Three days after the period limited by the statute had elapsed, he says in one of his letters, “ I may not answer your places of Scripture, nor yet "write the exposition of the 6th Psalm, for every day of this week must I preach, if this wicked carcass will permit.” His enemies, who had been defeated in their attempts to ruin him under the for- mer government, had now access to rulers sufficiently disposed to listen to their infor- mations. They were not dilatory in im- proving the opportunity. In the end of December, 1553, or beginning of January, 1554, his servant was seized as he carried letters from him to his wife and mother- in-law, and the letters taken from him, with the view of finding in them some matter of accusation against the "writer. As they contained merely religious advices, and exhortations to constancy in the faith which they professed, which he was pre- pared to avow before any court to which he might be called, he was not alarmed at their interception. But, being aware of the uneasiness which the report would give to his friends at Berwick, he set out immediately with the design of visiting them. Notwithstanding the secrecy with which he conducted this journey, the ru- mour of it quickly spread ; and some of his wife’s relations who had joined him, per- suaded that he was in imminent danger, prevailed on him, greatly against his own inclination, to relinquish his design of pro- ceeding to Berwick, and to retire to a place of safety on the coast, from which he might escape by sea, provided the search after him was continued. From this retreat he wrote to his wife and mother, acquainting them with the reasons of his absconding, and the little prospect which he had of being able at that time to see them. His brethren, he said, had, “ partly by admoni- tion, partly by tears, compelled him to obey,” somewhat contrary to his own mind ; Q SCOTS WORTHIES. 122 for “ never could he die in a more honest quarrel,” than by suffering as a witness for that truth for which God had made him a messenger. Notwithstanding this state of his mind, he promised, if Providence pre- pared' the way, to “ obey the voices of his brethren, and give place to the fury and rage of Satan for a time .” Having ascertained that the apprehen- sions of his friends were too well founded, and that he could not elude the pursuit of his enemies, if he remained in England, he procured a vessel, which, on the 28th of January, 1554, landed him safely at Dieppe, a port of Normandy, in France. Providence, which had more important services in reserve for Knox, made use of the urgent importunities of his friends to hurry him away from the danger to which, had he been left to the determination of his own mind, his zeal and fearlessness would have prompted him to expose him- self. No sooner did he reach a foreign shore than he began to regret the course which he had been induced to take. When he thought upon his fellow-preachers, whom he had left behind immured in dungeons, and the people lately under his charge, now scattered abroad as sheep without a shepherd, and a prey to ravening wolves, he felt an indescribable pang, and an almost irresistible desire to return and share in the hazardous but honourable conflict. Although he had only complied with the divine direction, “ when they persecute you in one city, flee ye into another,” and in his own breast stood acquitted of cowardice, he found it difficult to divest his conduct of the appearance of that weakness, and was afraid it might operate as a discourage- ment to his brethren in England, or an inducement to them to make sinful com- pliances with the view of saving their lives. He did not, however, abandon himself to melancholy and unavailing complaints. r One of his first cares after arriving at Dieppe, was to employ his pen in writing suitable advices to those whom he could no longer instruct by his sermons and conversation. With this view he trans- mitted to England two short treatises. The one was an exposition of the Sixth Psalm, which he had begun to write in England, at the request of Mrs Bowes, but had not found leisure to finish. It is an excellent practical discourse upon that portion of Scripture, and will be read with peculiar satisfaction by those who have been trained to religion in the school of adversity. The other treatise was a large letter, addressed to those in London and other parts of England, among whom he had been employed as a preacher. The drift of it was to warn them against defec- tion from the religion which they had pro- fessed, or giving countenance to the idola- trous worship erected among them. The conclusion is a most impressive and elo- quent exhortation, in which he addresses their consciences, their hopes, their fears, their feelings, and adjures them by all that is sacred, and all that is dear to them, as men, as parents, and as Christians, not to start back from their good profession, and plunge themselves and their posterity into the gulf of ignorance and idolatry. The reader of this letter cannot fail to be struck with its animated strain, when he reflects, that it proceeded from a foreign exile, in a strange country, without a single acquain- tance, and ignorant where he would find a place of abode or the means of sub- sistence. On the last day of February, 1554, he set out from Dieppe, like the Hebrew patriarch of old, “ not knowing whither he went ;” and “ committing his way to God,” travelled through France, and came to Switzerland. A correspondence had been kept up between some of the English re- formers and the most noted divines of the JOHN KNOX. 1 23 Helvetic church. The latter had already heard, with the sincerest grief, of the over- throw of the reformation in England, and the dispersion of its friends. Upon making himself known, Knox was cordially received by them, and treated with the most Chris- tian hospitality. He spent some time in Switzerland, visiting the particular churches, and conferring with the learned men. Cer- tain difficult questions, suggested by the present conjuncture of affairs in England, which he had revolved in his mind, he propounded to them for advice, and was confirmed in his own judgment by the coincidence of their views. In the beginning of May he returned to Dieppe, to receive information from Eng- land, a journey which he repeated at in- tervals as long as he remained on the continent. The kind reception which he had met with, and the agreeable company which he enjoyed, during his short resi- dence in Switzerland, had helped to dissi- pate the cloud which hung upon his spirits when he landed in France, and to open his mind to more pleasing prospects as to the issue of the present afflicting providences. This appears from a letter written by him at this time, and addressed, “To his afflicted brethren.” After discoursing of the situation of the disciples of Christ, during the time that he lay in the grave, and the sudden transition which they ex- perienced, from the depth of sorrow to the summit of joy, upon the reappearance of their Master ; he adds : “ The remem- brance thereof is unto my heart great matter of consolation. For yet my good hope is, that one day or other, Christ Jesus, that now is crucified in England, shall rise again, in despite of his enemies, and shall appear to his weak and sore troubled disciples (for yet some he hath in that wretched and miserable realm); to whom he shall say, c Peace be unto you : it is I ; be not afraid. 5 ” His spirit was also refreshed at this time, by the information which he received of the constancy with which his mother- in-law adhered to the protestant faith. It appears that her husband had expected that she and the rest of her family had consciences equally accommodating with his own. It was not until she had evinced, in the most determined manner, her resolu- tion to forsake friends and native country, rather than sacrifice her religion, that she was released from his importunities to comply with the Roman catholic religion. Before he went to Switzerland, Knox had signified his intention, if his life was spared, of visiting his friends at Berwick. When he returned to Dieppe, he had not relin- quished the thoughts of this enterprise. His friends, by their letters, would, it is likely, dissuade him from this ; and, after cool consideration, he resolved to postpone an attempt, by which he must have risked his life, without any prospect of doing good. Wherefore, setting out again from Dieppe, he repaired to Geneva. It was on this occasion that he first became per- sonally acquainted with the celebrated Calvin, and formed that intimate friend- ship which subsisted between them till the death of the latter, in 1564. They were nearly of the same age ; and there was a striking similarity in their sentiments, and in the prominent features of their charac- ter. The Genevan reformer was highly pleased with the piety and talents of Knox, who, in his turn, entertained a greater esteem and deference for Calvin than for any other of the reformers. As Geneva was an eligible situation for prosecuting study, and he approved much of the reli- gious order established in it, he resolved to make that city the ordinary place of his residence during the continuance of his exile. But no prospect of personal safety or SCOTS WORTHIES. 124 accommodation could banish from his mind the thoughts of his persecuted brethren. In the month of July he undertook another journey to Dieppe, to inform himself accu- rately of their situation, and learn if he could do anything for their comfort. On this occasion he received tidings, which tore open those wounds which had begun to close. The severities used against the protestants of England daily increased ; and, what was still more afflicting to him, many of those who had embraced the truth under his ministry had been induced to recant, and go over to popery. About this time he composed the Admo- nition to England, which was published about the end of this year. Those who have censured him, as indulging in an ex- cessive vehemence of spirit and bitterness of language, usually refer to this tract in support of the charge. It is true that he there paints the persecuting papists in the blackest colours, and holds them up as objects of human execration and divine vengeance. We do not stop here to in- quire whether he was chargeable with transgressing the bounds of moderation prescribed by religion and the gospel, in the expression of his indignation and zeal ; or whether the censures pronounced by his accusers, and the principles upon which they proceed, do not involve a condemnation of the temper and language of the most righte- ous men mentioned in Scripture, and even of our Saviour himself. But we ask — What terms were too strong for stigmatizing the execrable system of persecution coolly pro- jected by the dissembling, vindictive Gar- diner, the brutal barbarity of the bloody Bonner, or the unrelenting, insatiable cruelty of Mary, who, having extinguished the feelings of humanity, and divested her- self of the tenderness which characterizes her sex, issued orders for the murder of her subjects, until her own husband, bigoted and unfeeling as he was, turned with dis- gust from the spectacle, and continued to urge to fresh severities the willing instru- ments of her cruelty, after they w T ere sated with blood ! Knox returned to Geneva, and applied himself to study with all the ardour of youth, although his age now bordered upon fifty. It was about this time that he seems to have made some proficiency in the knowledge of the Hebrew language, which he had no opportunity of acquiring in early life. It is natural to inquire, by what funds he was supported during his exile. However much inclined his mother-in-law was to relieve his necessities, the disposi- tion of her husband seems to have put it greatly out of her power. Any small sum which his friends had advanced to him, before his sudden departure from England, was exhausted, and he was at this time very much straitened for money. Being unwilling to burden strangers, he looked for assistance to the voluntary contribu- tions of those among whom he had labour- ed. In a letter to Mrs Bowes, he says, “ My own estate I cannot well declare ; but God shall guide the footsteps of him that is wilsome, and will feed him in trouble that never greatly solicited for the world. If any collection might he made among the faithful, it were no shame for me to receive that which Paul refused not in the time of his trouble. But all I remit to His providence, that ever careth for his own.” I find from his letters, that remit- tances were made to him by particular friends, both in England and Scotland, during his residence on the continent. On the 14th of July, 1554, the English exiles who had come to Frankfort, obtain- ed from the magistrates the joint use of the place of worship allotted to the French, with liberty to perform religious service in their own language. This was granted upon the condition of their conforming as nearly as possible to the form of worship | JOHN KNOX. 125 used by the French church, a prudent pre- caution which their political circumstances dictated. The offer was gratefully accept- ed by the English, who came to an unani- mous agreement, that in using the English liturgy they would omit the litany, the audible responses', the surplice, with other ceremonies, which, “ in those reformed churches would seem more than strange,” or which were “superstitious and super- fluous.” Having settled this point in the most harmonious manner, elected a pastor and deacons, pro tempore , and agreed upon some rules for discipline, they wrote a circular letter to their brethren scattered in different places, inviting them to Frank- fort, to share with them in their accommo- dations, and unite their prayers for the afflicted church of England. The exiles at Strasburgh, in their reply, recommended to them certain persons as most fit for the offices of superintendent and pastors ; a recommendation not asked by the congre- gation at Frankfort, who did not think a superintendent requisite in their situation, and meant to have two or three pastors of equal authority. They, accordingly, pro- ceeded to make choice of three, one of whom was Knox, who received information of his election, by the following letter from the congregation delivered to him in Geneva : — “ We have received letters from our brethren off Strausbrough, but not in suche sorte and ample wise as we looked for; whereupon we assembled together in the FI. Goaste (we hope,) and have, with one voice and consent, chosen yow so par- tic ulerly to be one off the ministers off our congregation here, to preache unto us the most lively worde of God, accord- inge to the gift that God hathe geven yow ; for as muche as we have here, throughe the mercifull goodness off God a churche to be congregated together in the name of Christe, and be all of one body, and also beinge of one nation, tonge, and countrie. And at this presente, hav- ing need of such a one as yow, w~e do desier yow and also require yow, in the name of God, not to deny us, nor to refuse theis oure requests ; but that yow will aide, helpe, and assiste us with your presence in this our good and godlie enterprise, which we have taken in hand, to the glorie off God and the profit off his congregation, and the poore sheepe off Christ dispersed abroad, who, withe your and like presences, woulde come hither and be of one folde, where as nowe they wander abroad as loste sheepe, withowte anie gide. We mistruste not but that you will joifully accepte this callinge. Fare ye well from Franckford this 24. of September.” Knox was averse to undertake this charge, either from a desire to continue his studies at Geneva, or from an appre- hension of difficulties which he might meet with at Frankfort. By the persuasion of Calvin, he was, however, induced to comply with the call, and, repairing to Frankfort in the month of November, commenced his ministry with the universal consent and approbation of the congregation. When Knox arrived, he found that the seeds of animosity had already sprung up amongst them. From his sentiments re- specting the English service-book we may be sure that the eagerness manifested by those who wished to impose it was very displeasing to him. But so sensible was he of the pernicious and discreditable effects of division among brethren exiled for the same faith, that he resolved to act as a moderator between the two parties, and to avoid, as far as possible, every thing which tended to widen or continue the breach. Accordingly, when the congrega- tion had agreed to the order of the Genevan church, and requested him to proceed to administer the communion according to it, (although, in his judgment, he approved of 126 SCOTS WORTHIES. that order,) he declined to use it, until their learned brethren in other places were j consulted. At the same time, he signified | that he had not freedom to administer the sacraments agreeably to the English liturgy. If he could not be allowed to perform this service in a manner more consonant to scripture, he requested that some other might be employed in this duty, and he would willingly confine himself to preach- ing: if neither of these could be granted, he besought them to release him altogether from his charge. To this last request they would by no means consent. Fearing that if these differences were not speedily accommodated, they would burst into a flame of contention, Knox, along with some others, was employed to draw up a summary of the Book of Common Prayer, and having translated it into Latin, to send it to Calvin for his opinion and advice. Calvin replied in a letter, which being read to the con- gregation, had a great effect in repressing the keenness of such as had urged the unlimited use of the liturgy ; and a com- mittee was appointed to draw up a form which might accommodate all differences. When this committee met, Knox told them that he was convinced it was necessary for one of the parties to relent before they could come to an amicable settlement ; he would therefore state, he said, what he judged most proper, and having exonerated himself, would allow them without opposi- tion to determine as they should answer to God and the church. They accordingly agreed upon a form of worship, in which some things were taken from the English liturgy, and others added, which were thought suitable to their circumstances. This was to continue in force until the end of April next ; if any dispute arose in the interval, it was to be referred to five of the most Celebrated foreign divines. This agreement was subscribed by all the members of the congregation ; thanks were publicly returned to God for the restora- tion of harmony ; and the communion was received as a pledge of union, and the burial of all past offences. But this agreement was soon after vio- lated, and the peace of that unhappy con- gregation again broken, in the most wanton and scandalous manner. On the 13tli of March, Dr Cox, who had been preceptor to Edward VI., came from England to Frankfort, with some others in his com- pany. The first day that they attended public worship after their arrival, they broke through the established order, by answering aloud after the minister in the time of divine service. Being admonished by some of the elders to refrain from that practice, they insolently replied : “ That they would do as they had done in Eng- land ; and they would have the face of an English church.” On the following Sab- bath, one of the number intruded himself into the pulpit, without the consent of the pastors or the congregation, and read the litany, Cox and the other accomplices echo- ing the responses. This offensive behaviour was aggravated by the consideration, that some of them, before leaving England, had been guilty of compliances with popery, for which they had as yet given no satisfaction. This occasioned an unhappy difference be- tween the preceptor of the king and the reformer, which led the latter to quit Frankfort. Upon leaving Frankfort, Knox went directly to Geneva. He was cordially welcomed back by Calvin. As his advice had great weight in disposing Knox to comply with the invitation from Frankfort, he felt much hurt at the treatment which had obliged him to leave it. In reply to an apologetic epistle which he received from Dr Cox, Calvin, although he re- strained himself from saying anything which might revive or increase the flame. JOHN KNOX. 127 could not conceal his opinion, that Knox had been used in an unbrotherly, unchris- tian manner ; and that it would have been better for the accuser to have remained at home, than to have brought a firebrand into a foreign country, to inflame a peaceable society. It appeared from the event, that Provi- dence had disengaged Knox from his late charge, to employ him on a more important service. From the time that he was carried prisoner into France, he had never lost sight of Scotland, nor relinquished the hope of again preaching in his native country. His constant employment, during the five years which he spent in England, occupied his mind, and lessened the regret which he felt, at seeing the great object of his desire apparently at as great a distance as ever. Upon leaving England, his atten- tion was more particularly directed to his native country ; and, soon after returning from Frankfort, he was informed that matters began to assume a more favourable appearance there than they had worn for a number of years. After the surrender of the castle of St Andrews, and the banishment of the protestants who had taken refuge in it, an irrecoverable blow seemed to have been given to the reformed cause in Scotland. The clergy triumphed in their victory, and flattered themselves that they had stifled the voice of opposi- tion. There were still many protestants in the kingdom ; but they satisfied them- selves with retaining their sentiments in secret, without exposing their lives to cer- tain destruction by avowing them, or ex- citing the suspicions of their enemies by private conventicles. An event which threatened the extinction of the reformation in Britain proved the means of reviving it in Scotland. Several of those who were driven from England by the persecution of Mary, took refuge in this country, and were overlooked, in consequence of the security into which the Scottish clergy had been lulled by success. Travelling from place to place, they instructed many, and fanned the latent zeal of those who had formerly received the knowledge of the truth. William Harlow, whose zeal and know- ledge of the doctrines of the gospel com- pensated for the defects of his education, was the first preacher who came. After him arrived John Willock, in summer, 1555, being charged with a commission from the duchess of Embden to the queen recent. Willock became afterwards the O chief coadjutor of Knox, who entertained the highest esteem and affection for him. j The union of their talents and peculiar qualities was of great advantage to the reformation. Willock was not inferior to ! Knox in learning; and, although he did !j not equal him in intrepidity and eloquence, I surpassed him in affability, prudence, and address ; by which means he was some- times able to maintain his station and accomplish his purposes, when his colleague could not act with safety or success. He was a native of Ayrshire, and had worn the monastic habit ; but, at an early period, he embraced the reformed opinions, and fled into England. During the severe , persecution for the Six Articles, he was, | in 1541, thrown into the prison of the J Fleet. He was afterwards chaplain to j the duke of Suffolk, the father of lady I queen Mary, he retired to East Friesland. ' Although Knox did not know what it was to fear danger, and was little accus- j tomed to consult his personal ease, when j he had the prospect of being useful in his J Master’s service, none of his enterprises were undertaken rashly, and without seri- ous deliberation upon the call which he had to engage in them. On the present occasion, he felt at first averse to a journey into Scotland, notwithstanding some en- SCOTS WORTHIES. 128 couraging circumstances in the intelligence which he had received from that quarter. He had been so much tossed about of late, that he felt a peculiar relish in the learned leisure which he at present enjoyed, and was desirous to prolong. His anxiety to see his wife, after an absence of nearly two years, and the importunity with which his mother-in-law, in her letters, urged him to visit them, determined him at last to un- dertake the journey. Setting out from Geneva in the month of August, 1555, he came to Dieppe ; and, sailing from that port, landed on the east coast, near the boun- daries between Scotland and England, about the end of harvest. He repaired immediately to Berwick, where he had the satisfaction of finding his wife and her mother in comfortable circumstances ; en- joying the happiness of religious society with several individuals in that city, who, like themselves, had not “ bowed the knee’ 5 to the established idolatry, nor submitted to “ receive the mark” of Antichrist. Having remained some time with them, he set out secretly to visit the protestants in Edinburgh, intending, after a short stay, to return to Berwick. But he found em- ployment which detained him beyond his expectation. In Edinburgh he lodged with James Syme, a respectable and religious burgess, to whose house the friends of the reformed doctrine repaired, to attend his instructions, as soon as they were informed of his arrival. Among these were John Erskine of Dun, and William Maitland, younger of Lethington, afterwards secretary to Mary queen of Scots. John Willock was also in Edinburgh at this time. Those who heard him, being exceedingly gratified with his doctrine, brought their friends and acquaintances along with them, and his audiences daily increased. Being con- fined to a private house, he was obliged to preach to successive assemblies ; and was almost unremittingly employed, by night as well as by day, in communicating in- struction to persons who demanded it with extraordinary avidity. When he arrived in Scotland, he found that the friends of the reformed doctrine, in general, continued to attend the popish worship, and even the celebration of mass ; principally with the view of avoiding the scandal which they would otherwise incur. This was very disagreeable to Knox, who, in his sermons and conversation, dis- closed the impiety of that service, and the danger of symbolizing with it. A meeting being appointed for the express purpose of discussing this question, Maitland de- fended the practice with all that inge- nuity and learning for which he was dis- tinguished; but his arguments were so satisfactorily answered by Knox, that he yielded the point as indefensible, and agreed with the rest of his brethren, to abstain for the future from such temporiz- ing conduct. Thus was a formal separa- tion made from the popish church in Scot- land, which may justly be regarded as an important step in the reformation. Mr Erskine prevailed on Knox to accom- pany him to his family seat of Dun, in Angus, where he continued a month, preaching every day. The principal per- sons in that neighbourhood attended his sermons. After he returned to the south, he resided for the most part in Calder- house, with Sir James Sandilands. Here he was attended by lord Lorn, after- wards earl of Argyle; the master of Mar, afterwards earl of Mar ; and lord James Stuart, natural son of James V., and prior qf St Andrews, afterwards earl of Moray ; the last two of whom Knox lived to see regents of Scotland. These noblemen were highly pleased with the doctrine which he taught. In the begin- ning of the year 1556, he was conducted by Lockhart of Bar, and Campbell of j Kinzeancleugh, to Kyle, the ancient recep- I f JOHN tacle of the Scottish Lollards, where there were a number of adherents to the reform- ed doctrines. He preached in the houses of Bar, Kinzeancleugh, Carnell, Ochiltree, and Gadgirth, and in the town of Ayr. In several of these places, he also dispensed the sacrament of our Lord’s Supper. A little before Easter, the earl of Glencairn sent for him to his manor of Finlayston, in which, after preaching, he also dispensed the sacrament ; the earl, his lady, and two of their sons, with some friends assembled for that purpose, participating of the sacred feast. From Finlayston he returned to Calder-house, and soon after paid a second visit to Dun, during which he preached | more openly than before. The most of the gentlemen of Mearns did at this time make profession of the reformed religion, by sitting down at the Lord’s table ; and entered into a solemn and mutual bond, in which they renounced the popish com- munion, and engaged to maintain the true preaching of the gospel, according as Pro- ! vidence should favour them with opportu- nities. This seems to have been the first of those religious bonds or covenants, by which the confederation of the protestants in Scotland was so frequently ratified. | The dangers to which Knox and his : friends had been accustomed, had taught | them to conduct matters with such secrecy, that he had preached for a considerable time and in different places, before the clergy knew that he was in the kingdom. Concealment, however, was impracticable, after his audiences became so numerous. His preaching in Ayr was reported to the court, and formed the topic of conversation in the presence of the queen regent. Some affirmed that the preacher was an English- man ; “ a prelate not of the least pride (probably Beaton, archbishop of Glasgow,) said, Nay ; no Englishman, but it is Knox , that knave” “ It was my Lord’s pleasure,” says Knox, “ so to baptize a poor man ; the KNOX. 129 reason whereof, if it should be required, his rochet and mitre must stand for autho- rity. What further liberty he used in defining things like uncertain to him, to wit, of my learning and doctrine, at this present I omit. For what hath my life and conversation been, since it hath pleas- ed God to call me from the puddle of papistry, let my very enemies speak ; and what learning I have, they may prove w hen they please.” Interest was at this time made by the bishops for his apprehension ; but the queen regent discouraged the appli- cation. After his last journey to the north, the friars flocked from all quarters to the bishops, and instigated them to adopt i speedy and decisive measures for checking the alarming effects of his preaching. In ! consequence of this, Knox was summoned to appear before a convention of the j clergy, in the church of the blackfriars at | Edinburgh, on the 15th of May. This ! diet he resolved to keep, and with that view came to Edinburgh, before the day ! appointed, accompanied by Erskine of Dun, I and several other gentlemen. The clergy j had never dreamed of his attendance : when apprized of his design, being afraid to bring matters to extremity, and unas- sured of the regent’s decided support, they met beforehand, cast the summons under pretence of some informality, and deserted I the diet against him. On the day on which j he should have appeared as a pannel, Knox preached in the bishop of Dunkeld’s large lodging, to a far greater audience than had before attended him in Edinburgh. During the ten following days, he preached in the same place, forenoon and afternoon ; none of the clergy making the smallest attempt ! to disturb him. About this time, the earl marisehal, at the desire of the earl of Glencairn, attend- ed an evening exhortation delivered by Knox. He was so much pleased with it, ! j that he joined with Glencairn, in urging ! the preacher to write a letter to the queen j regent, which they thought might have the j | effect of inclining her to protect the re- j formed preachers, if not also to give a j| favourable ear to their doctrine. With this request he was induced to comply. As a specimen of the manner in which this letter was written, we shall give the following quotation, in the original lan- ' guage. “ I doubt not, that the rumouris, whilk haif cumin to your Grace’s earis of me, haif bene such, that (yf all reportis wer true) I wer unworthie to live in the earth. And w T onder it is, that the voces of the multitude suld not have so inflamed : your Grace’s hart with just hatred of such ; a one as I am accuseit to be, that all acces to pitie suld have bene schute up. I am ! | traduceit as ane heretick, accusit as a fais | ! teacher, and seducer of the pepill, besydis : uther opprobries, whilk (affirmit be men of ij warldlie honour and estimatioun) may 1 easelie kendill the wrath of majestratis, | whair innocencie is not knawin. But ! blissit be God, the Father of our Lord j Jesus Chryst, who, by the dew of his heavenlie grace, hath so quenchit the fyre of displeasure as yit in your Grace’s hart, (whilk of lait dayis I have understaud) that Sathan is frustrat of his interpryse j and purpois. Whilk is to my hart no j small comfort; not so muche (God is ! witnes) for any benefit that I can resave in this miserable lyfe, by protectioun of any earthlie creature, (for the cupe whilk it behoveth me to drink is apoyntit by the ! wisdome of him whois consallis ar not | changeable) as that I am for that benefit whilk I am assurit your Grace sail resave ; yf that ye continew in lyke modaratioun and clemencie towardis utheris, that maist unjustlie ar and sail be accusit, as that your Grace hath begun towardis me, and my most desperat cause.” Though Knox’s pen was not the most [! smooth nor delicate, and he often irritated by the plainness and severity of his lan- guage, the letter to the queen regent is far from being uncourtly. It seems to have been written with great care ; and, in point of language, it may be compared with any composition of that period, for simplicity and forcible expression. Its strain was well calculated for stimulating the in- quiries, and confirming the resolutions of one who was impressed with a conviction of the reigning evils in the church, or who, though not resolved in judgment as to the matters in controversy, was determined to preserve moderation between the contend- ing parties. Notwithstanding her impos- ing manners, the regent was not a person of this description. The earl of Glencairn delivered the letter into her hand ; she glanced at it with a careless air, and gave it to the archbishop of Glasgow, saying, Please you, my lord, to read a pasquil. The report of this induced Knox, after he retired from Scotland, to publish the letter, with additions, in which he used a more pointed and severe style. While he was thus employed in Scot- land, he received letters from the English congregation at Geneva, stating that they had made choice of him as one of their pastors, and urging him to come and take the inspection of them. He judged it his duty to comply with this invitation, and began immediately to prepare for the jour- ney. His wife and mother-in-law had by this time joined him at Edinburgh ; and Mrs Bowes, being now a widow, resolved to ac- company her daughter and her husband to Geneva. Having sent them before him in a vessel, to Dieppe, Knox again visited and took his leave of the brethren in the i different places where he had preached, j Campbell of Kinzeancleugh conducted him to the earl of Argyle, and he preached for some days in Castle Campbell. Argyle, and the laird of Glenorchy, urged him to r JOHN KNOX. 131 remain in Scotland, but lie resisted all their importunities. “ If God so blessed their small beginning,” he said, “ that they continued in godliness, whensoever they pleased to command him, they should find him obedient. But once he must needs visit that little flock, which the wickedness of men had compelled him to leave.” Accordingly, in the month of July, 1556, he left Scotland, and, arriving at Dieppe, proceeded with his family to Geneva. Knox reached Geneva before the end of harvest, and took upon him the charge of the English congregation there, among whom he laboured during the two follow- ing years. This short period was the most quiet of his life. In the bosom of his own family, he experienced that soothing care to which he had hitherto been a stranger, and which his frequent bodily ailments required. Two sons were born to him in Geneva. The greatest cordiality among themselves, and affection to him, subsisted in the small flock under his charge. With his colleague, Christopher Goodman, he lived as a brother ; and was happy in the friendship of Calvin and the other pastors of Geneva. So much was he pleased with the purity of religion established in that city, that he warmly recommended it to his religious acquaintances in England, as the best Christian asylum to which they could flee. “ In my heart,” says he, in a letter to his friend Mr Locke, “ I could have wished, yea, and cannot cease to wish, that it might please God to guide and conduct yourself to this place, where I neither fear nor eshame to say, is the most perfect school of Christ that ever was in the earth, since the days of the apostles. In other places I confess Christ to be truly preach- ed ; but manners and religion so sincerely reformed, I have not yet seen in any other place beside.” But neither the enjoyment of personal accommodations, nor the pleasure of liter- ary society, nor the endearments of domes- tic happiness, could subdue our reformer’s ruling passion, or unfix his determination to return to Scotland, as soon as an oppor- tunity should offer for advancing the refor- mation among his countrymen. In a letter written to some of his friends in Edin- burgh, March 16, 1557, we find him ex- pressing himself thus : “ My own motion and daily prayer is, not only that I may visit you, but also that with joy I may end my battle among you. And assure your- self of that, that whenever a greater num- ber among you shall call upon me than now hath bound me to serve them, by his grace it shall not be the fear of punish- ment, neither yet of the death temporal, that shall impede my coming to you.” A certain heroic confidence, and assurance of ultimate success have often been displayed by those whom Providence has raised up to achieve great revolutions in the world ; by which they have been borne up under discouragements which would have over- whelmed men of ordinary spirits, and em- boldened to face dangers from which others would have shrunk appalled. This enthusiastic heroism (I use not the epithet in a bad sense) often blazed forth in the conduct of the great German reformer. Knox possessed no inconsiderable portion of the same spirit. “ Satan, I confess, rageth,” says he, in a letter nearly of the same date with that last quoted; “but potent is He that promised to be with us, in all such enterprises as we take in hand at his commandment, for the glory of his name, and for maintenance of his true re- ligion. And therefore the less fear we any contrary power : yea, in the boldness of our God, we altogether contemn them, be they kings, emperors, men, angels, or devils. For they shall never be able to prevail against the simple truth of God which we openly profess : by the permission of God, they may appear to prevail against SCOTS WORTHIES. 132 | I our bodies ; but our cause shall triumph in despite of Satan.” Within a month after he wrote the letter last quoted but one, James Syme, who had been his host at Edinburgh, and James Barron, another burgess of the same city, arrived at Geneva with a letter, and credence, from the earl of Glencairn, lords Lorn, Erskine, and James Stuart, informing him that those who had professed the reformed doctrine remained steadfast, that its ad- versaries were daily losing credit in the nation, and that those who possessed the supreme authority, although they had not yet declared themselves friendly, still refrained from persecution ; and inviting him in their own name, and in that of their brethren, to return to Scotland, where he would find them all ready to receive him, and to spend their lives and fortunes in advancing the cause which they had espoused. This invitation Knox laid before his congregation, and also submitted it to Cal- vin and his colleagues. The latter delivered it as their opinion, “that he could not refuse the call, without showing himself rebellious to God, and unmerciful to his country.” His congregation agreed to sacrifice their particular interest to the greater good of the church ; and his own family acquiesced. Upon this, he returned an answer to the letter of the nobility, sig- nifying, that he meant to visit them with all reasonable expedition. Accordingly, after seeing the congregation agreeably provided with a pastor in his room, and settling his other affairs, he took an affec- tionate leave of his friends at Geneva, and went to Dieppe, in the beginning of Octo- ber. While he waited there for a vessel, he received letters from Scotland, written in a very different strain from the former. These informed him, that new consultations had been held ; that some began to repent of the invitation which they had given him to return to Scotland ; and that the greater part seemed irresolute and faint-hearted. This intelligence exceedingly discon- certed and embarrassed him. He instantly despatched a letter to the nobility who had invited him, upbraiding them for their timidity and inconstancy. Having sent off this letter, with others written in the same strain, to Erskine of Dun, WHshart of Pitarrow, and some other gentlemen of his acquaintance, he resolved to spend some time in the interior of France, hoping to receive in a little more favourable accounts from Scotland. The reformed doctrine had been early intro- duced into the kingdom of France ; it had j been watered with the blood of many mar- tyrs ; and all the violence and barbarity 1 which had been employed, had not been ! able to extirpate it, or prevent it from ! spreading among all ranks. The Parisian protestants were at present smarting under the effects of one of those massacres which so often disgraced the Roman catholic religion in that country, before as well as after the commencement of the civil wars. ' Not satisfied with assaulting them when peaceably assembled for worship in a pri- vate house, and treating them with great barbarity, their adversaries, in imitation of their pagan predecessors, invented the most diabolical calumnies against them, and circulated everywhere, that they were guilty of committing the most flagitious crimes in their assemblies. The j innocent sufferers had drawn up an apology, vindicating themselves from this atrocious | charge, and Knox, having got a copy of this, translated it into English, and wrote j a preface and additions to it, intending to publish it for the use of his countrymen. Having acquired the French language, and formed an acquaintance with many of j ^ the protestants, he occasionally preached ; i to them in passing through the country. I JOHN KNOX. It seems to have been on the present occa- sion, that he preached in the city of Ro- chelle, when having introduced the subject of his native country, he told his audience that he expected, within a few years, to preach in the church of St Giles, in Edin- burgh. There is nothing in our reformer’s letters from which I can learn whether he found any protestants in Dieppe, a place which he so often visited during his exile : it is probable he did ; for at an early period of the following century they had a very numerous church in that town. Having received no intelligence of an encouraging nature, Knox determined to relinquish for the present his design of proceeding to Scotland. Before he left Dieppe, he transmitted two long letters to Scotland : the one, dated 1st December, 1557, was addressed to the protestants in general; the other, dated the 17th of the same month, was directed to the nobility. In judging of Knox’s influence in advancing the refor- mation, we must take into view not only his personal labours, but also the epistolary correspondence which he maintained with his countrymen. By this, he instructed them in his absence, communicated his own advice, and that of the learned among whom he resided, upon every difficult case which occurred, and animated them to constancy and perseverance. The letters which he wrote at this time deserve par- i ticular attention in this view. In both of | them he prudently avoids any reference to his late disappointment. In the first letter he strongly inculcates purity of morals, and warns all who pro- fessed the reformed religion against those irregularities of life, which were improved to the disparagement of their cause, by i two classes of persons ; by the papists, who, although the same vices prevailed in a far higher degree among themselves, repre- sented them as the native fruits of the pro- 133 testant doctrine ; and by a new sect, who were enemies to superstition, and had be- longed to their own society; but having deserted it, had become scarcely less hos- tile to them than the papists. The prin- cipal design of this letter was to put them j on their guard against the arts of this I class of persons, and to expose their lead- j ing errors. His letter to the protestant lords j breathes a spirit of ardent and noble piety, i He endeavours to purify their minds from selfish and worldly principles ; to raise, sanctify, and christianize their motives, by exhibiting and recommending to them the spirit and conduct of the princes and heroes, celebrated, not in profane, but sacred story. The glory of God, the ad- vancement of the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the salvation of themselves and their brethren, the emancipation of their country from spiritual and civil thraldom ; these, and not their own honour and aggrandize- ment, or the revenging of their petty, pri- vate quarrels, were the objects which they ought to keep steadily and solely in view. In this letter, he also communicates his advice on the delicate question of resistance to supreme rulers. They had consulted him on this question, and he had submitted it to the judgment of the most learned on the continent. Knox returned to Geneva in the end of the year 1557. During the following year, he was engaged, along with several learned men of his congregation, in making a new translation of the Bible into English ; which, from the place where it was com- posed and first printed, obtained the name of the Geneva Bible. It was at this time that he published his letter to the queen regent, and his appellation and exhorta- tion ; both of which were transmitted to Scotland, and contributed not a little to the spread of the reformed opinions. I have already given an account of the first 134 SCOTS WORTHIES. j of these tracts, which was chiefly intended I for removing the prejudices of catholics. ! The last was more immediately designed ; for instructing and animating such as were friendly to the reformed religion. ; I Addressing himself to the nobility and estates, he shows that the care and refor- mation of religion belonged to civil rulers, | and constituted one of the primary duties . of their office. This was a dictate of nature as well as revelation ; and he would not insist long upon that topic, lest he j should seem to suppose them “ lesse care- I fill over God’s true religion, than were the I I Ethnickes over their idolatrie.” Inferior i | magistrates, within the sphere of their juris- : diction — the nobles and estates of a king- j ■ dom, as well as kings and princes — were | bound to attend to this high duty. He ' then addresses himself to the commonalty of Scotland, and points out their duty and interest, with regard to the important con- troversy in agitation. They were rational creatures, formed after the image of God ; they had souls to be saved ; they were ac- countable for their conduct ; they were : bound to judge of the truth of religion, ! i and to make profession of it, as well as ( kings, nobles, or bishops. If idolatry was j maintained, if the gospel was suppressed, if i I the blood of the innocent was shed, how j l could they be exculpated, provided they j kept silence, and did not exert themselves | j to prevent these evils. But the most singular treatise published ! this year by Knox, and that which made i the greatest noise, was, The First Blast of the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regi- ment of Women ; in which he attacked j with great vehemence, the practice of ad- j mitting females to the government of 1 nations. There is some reason to think i that his mind was struck with the incon- | gruity of this practice, as early as Mary’s accession to the throne of England. This i was probably one of the points on which he had conferred with the Swiss divines in 1554. It is certain, from a letter writ- ten by him in 1556, that his sentiments respecting it were then fixed and decided. He continued, however, to retain them to himself, and refrained for a considerable time from publishing them, out of defer- ence to the opinions of others. But at last, provoked by the tyranny of the queen of England, and wearied out with her in- creasing cruelties, he applied the trumpet to his mouth, and uttered a terrible blast. “To promote a woman to bear rule, supe- riority, dominion, or empire, above any realm, nation or city, is repugnant to nature, contumely to God, a thing most contrarious to his revealed will and ap- proved ordinance ; and, finally, it is the subversion of all equity and justice.” Such is the first sentence and principal proposi- tion of the work. Our reformer’s letter to the protestant lords in Scotland produced its intended effect, in re-animating their drooping cou- rage. At a consultative meeting held at Edinburgh, in December, 1557, they unanimously resolved to adhere to one another, and exert themselves for the ad- vancement of the reformation. Having subscribed a solemn bond of mutual assu- rance, they renewed their invitation to Knox ; and being afraid that he might hesitate on account of their former irreso- lution, they wrote to Calvin to employ his influence to induce him to comply. Their letters did not reach Geneva until Novem- ber, 1558. By the same conveyance Knox received from Scotland letters of later date, communicating the most agreeable intelligence, respecting the progress which the reformed cause had made, and the flourishing appearance which it continued to wear. Through the exertions of our reformer, during his residence among them in the beginning of the year 1556, and in pursu- JOHN KNOX. • 135 summon the protestant preachers ; but the ance of the instructions which he left be- hind him, the protestants had formed themselves into congregations, which met in different parts of the country with greater or less privacy, according to the opportunities which they enjoyed. Having come to the resolution of withdrawing from the popish worship, they endeavoured to provide for their religious instruction and mutual edification, in the best manner that their circumstances permitted. As there were no ministers among them, they continued for some time to be deprived of the dispensation of the sacra- ments ; but certain intelligent and pious men of their number were chosen, to read the Scriptures, exhort, and offer up prayers, in their assemblies. Convinced of the necessity of order and discipline in their societies, and desirous to have them organized, as far as within their power, agreeably to the institution of Christ, they next proceeded to choose elders, for the inspection of their manners, to whom they promised subjection ; and deacons, for the j collection and distribution of alms to the poor. Edinburgh was the first place in which this order was established — Dundee the first town in which a reformed church was completely organized, provided with a regular minister, and the dispensation of | the sacraments. During the war with England, which began in Autumn, 1556, and continued through the following year, the protestants enjoyed considerable liberty ; and, as they improved it with the utmost assiduity, their numbers rapidly increased. William Harlow, John Douglas, Paul Methven, and John Willock, who had again return- ed from Embden, now began to preach, with greater publicity, in different parts of the country. The popish clergy were not indifferent to these proceedings, and want- ed not inclination to put a stop to them. They prevailed on the queen regent to interposition of the gentlemen of the west country obliged her to abandon the pro- cess against them. At length, the clergy determined to revive those cruel measures which, since the year 1550, had been sus- pended by the political circumstances of the kingdom, more than by their clemency or moderation. In April, 1559, the arch- bishop of St Andrews committed to the flames Walter Mill,* and summoned several others to appear, on a charge of | heresy, before a convention of the clergy i at Edinburgh. This barbarous and illegal execution produced effects of the greatest import- ance. It raised the horror of the nation to an incredible pitch ; and as it was believed, at that time, that the regent was not accessory to the deed, their indigna- tion w r as directed wholly against the clergy. Throwing aside all fear, and those re- straints which prudence, or a regard to ! established order, had hitherto imposed on them, the people now assembled openly to j join in the reformed worship, and avowed their determination to adhere to it at all hazards. The protestant leaders laid their complaints, in a regular and respectful manner, before the regent, and repeated their petition, that she would, by her authority, and in concurrence with the parliament, restrain the tyrannical proceed- ings of the clergy, correct the flagrant and | j insufferable abuses which prevailed in the church, and grant to them and their bre- thren the liberty of religious instruction 1 and worship — at least according to a restricted, plan, which they laid before her, and to which they were willing to submit, until such time as their grievances were deliberately examined and redressed. The regent’s reply was such as to persuade them that she was friendly to their propo- * See Mill’s Life, supra, p. 75. SCOTS WORTHIES. 136 sals : she promised that she would take measures for carrying them legally into effect, as soon as it was in her power ; and that, in the mean time, they might depend on her protection. It did not require many arguments to persuade Knox to comply with an invita- tion which was accompanied with such gratifying intelligence ; and he began immediately to prepare for his journey to Scotland. The future settlement of the congregation under his charge occupied him for some time. Information being received of the death of Mary, queen of England, and the accession of Elizabeth, the protestant refugees hastened to return to their native country. The congregation at Geneva having met to return thanks to God for this deliverance, agreed to send one of their number with letters to their brethren in different places of the con- tinent, particularly at Frankfort, congratu- lating them on the late happy change, and requesting a confirmation of the mutual reconciliation which had already been effected, the burial of all past offences, with a brotherly co-operation, in endea- vouring to obtain such a settlement of religion in England as would be agreeable to all the sincere well-wishers of the reformation. A favourable return to their letters being obtained, they took leave of the hospitable city, and set out for their native country. By them Knox sent letters to some of his former acquaintances, who were now in the court of Elizabeth, requesting permission to travel through England, on his way to Scotland. In the month of January, 1559, our reformer took his leave of Geneva, for the last time. In addition to former marks of respect, the republic, before his departure, conferred on him the freedom of the city. He left his wife and family behind him, until he should ascertain that they could live with safety in Scotland. Notwithstanding the flattering accounts which he received from his countrymen of the favourable disposition of the queen regent, and the directions which he sent them to cultivate this, he always entertain- ed suspicions of the sincerity of her pro- fessions. But, since he left Geneva, they had been confirmed ; and the information which he had procured, in travelling through France, conspired with the intelli- gence which he had lately received from Scotland, in convincing him, that the immediate suppression of the reformation in his native country, and its consequent suppression in the neighbouring kingdom were intended. The plan projected by the gigantic ambition of the princes of Lor- raine, brothers of the queen regent of Scot- land, has been developed, and described with great accuracy and ability, by a cele- brated modern historian. Suffice it to say here, that the court of France, under their influence, had resolved to set up the claim of the young queen of Scots to the crown of England ; to attack Elizabeth, and wrest the sceptre from her hands as a bastard and a heretic ; and, as Scotland was the only avenue by which this attack could be successfully made, to begin by suppressing the reformation, and establishing their power in that country. Knox, in the course of his journeys through France, had formed an acquaintance with some persons about the court ; and, by their means, had gained some knowledge of the plan. He was convinced that the Scottish reformers were unable to resist the pctover of France, which was to be directed against them ; and that it was the interest as well as duty of the English court, to afford them the most effectual support. But he was afraid that a selfish and narrow policy might prevent them from doing this, until it was too late ; and was therefore anxious to call their attention to this subject at an early period, and to put them in possession i ! JOHN of the facts that had come to his know- I ledo-e. The assistance which Elizabeth (D granted to the Scottish protestants, in 1559 and 1560, was dictated by the soundest policy. It baffled and defeated the designs of her enemies at the very out- set; it gave her an influence over Scot- land, which all her predecessors could not obtain ; it secured the stability of her government, by extending and strengthen- ing the protestant interest, the principal pillar on which it rested. And it reflects not a little credit on our reformer’s saga- city, that he had formed this plan in his mind at so early a period, and persisted to urge its adoption, until his endeavours were crowned with success. On his arrival, Knox found matters in the most critical state in Scotland. The queen regent had thrown off the mask which she had long worn, and avowed her determina- tion forcibly to suppress the reformation. As loner as she stood in need of the assist- ance of the protestants to support her authority against the Hamiltons, and pro- cure the matrimonial crown for her son-in- law, the dauphin of France, she courted their friendship, pretended to accede to all their plans of reform, and flattered them, if not with the hopes of her joining their party, at least with assurances that she would shield them from the fury of the clergy. So completely were they duped by her consummate address and dissimulation, that they complied with all her requests, restrained some of their preachers from teaching in public, and desisted from presenting to the late parlia- ment a petition which they had prepared ; nor would they believe her insincere, even after different parts of her conduct had afforded strong grounds for suspicion, l But, having accomplished the great objects which she had in view, she at last, in con- ! formity with instructions from France, and | secret engagements with the clergy, adopt- KNOX. 137 | I ed measures which completely undeceived them, and discovered the gulf into which they were ready to he precipitated. Some of the protestant leaders having waited on her to intercede in behalf of their preach- ers, who had been summoned by her, she told them in plain terms, that, “ in spite of them, they should he all banished from Scotland, although they preached as truly as ever St Paul did:” and when they reminded her of the repeated promises of protection that she had given them, she unblushingly replied, that “ it became not subjects to burden their princes with pro- j mises, farther than they pleased to keep them.” They told her that, if she violated the engagements which she came under to her subjects, they would consider them- selves as released from allegiance to her, and warned her very freely of the danger- ous consequences ; upon which she adopted milder language, and engaged to prevent the trial. But soon after, upon hearing that the exercise of the reformed religion had been introduced into the town of Perth, she renewed the process, and summoned all the preachers to appear at Stirling, on the 10th of May, to undergo a trial. [Stirling from the East, 1560.] Although his own cause was prejudged, ! and sentence already pronounced against s SCOTS WORTHIES. 138 him, he did not hesitate a moment in re- solving to present himself voluntarily at Stirling, to assist his brethren in their de- fence, and share in their danger. Having rested only a single day at Edinburgh, he hurried to Dundee, where he found the principal protestants in Angus and Mearns already assembled, determined to attend their ministers to the place of trial, and to avow their adherence to the doctrines for which they were accused. The providen- tial arrival of such an able champion of the cause, at this crisis, must have been very encouraging to the assembly ; and the liberty of accompanying them, which he requested, was readily granted. Lest the unexpected approach of such a multitude, though unarmed, should alarm or offend the regent, the congregation (for I so the protestants began at this time to be | called,) agreed to stop at Perth, and sent | Erskine of Dun before them to Stirling, to | acquaint her with the peaceable object and manner of their coming. Apprehensive that their presence would disconcert her measures, the regent had again recourse to dissimulation. She persuaded Erskine to write to his brethren to desist from their intended journey, and authorized him to promise, in her name, that she would put a stop to the trial. The congregation tes- tified their pacific intentions by a cheerful | compliance with this request, and the great part, confiding in the royal promise, returned to their homes. But when the day of trial came, the summons was called j by the orders of the queen, the accused ; were outlawed for not appearing, and all I were prohibited under the pain of rebellion, from harbouring or assisting them. Escaping from Stirling, Erskine brought to Perth the intelligence of this disgrace- ful transaction, which could not fail to i on the same day on which the news came, | Knox, who remained at Perth, preached a sermon, in which he exposed the idolatry of the mass, and of image-worship. Ser- mon being ended, the audience quietly dis- missed ; a tew idle persons only loitered in the church, when an imprudent priest, wishing either to try the disposition of the people, or to show his contempt of the doctrine which had been just delivered, uncovered a rich altar-piece decorated with images, and prepared to celebrate mass. A boy having uttered some expres- sions of disapprobation was struck by the priest. He retaliated by throwing a stone at the aggressor, which, falling on the altar, broke one of the images. This operated like a signal upon the people pre- sent who had taken part with the boy; and, in the course of a few minutes, the altar, images, and all the ornaments of the church were torn down and trampled under foot. The noise soon collected a j, mob, who, finding no employment in the j church, by a sudden and irresistible im- j pulse flew upon the monasteries ; nor j could they be restrained by the authority j of the magistrates and the persuasions of ’ the preachers, who assembled as soon as they heard of the riot, until the houses of the gray and black friars, with the costly edifice of the Carthusian monks, were laid in ruins. None of the gentlemen or sober part of the congregation were concerned in this unpremeditated tumult ; it was wholly confined to the baser inhabitants, or, as Knox designs them, “ the rascal multi- tude.” The demolition of the monasteries has been represented as the first-fruits of our reformer’s labours on this occasion; but whatever his sentiments were as to the j destruction of the instruments and monu- | ments of idolatry, he wished this to be | accomplished in a regular manner ; he was sensible that such tumultuary proceedings were prejudicial to the cause of the reform- ers in present circumstances ; and, instead JOHN KNOX. of instigating, he exerted himself in putting a stop to the ravages of the mob. If, however, it is to be traced to a remote cause, it must be imputed to the wanton and dishonourable perfidy of the queen. Nothing could he more favourable to the designs of the regent than this riot. By her recent conduct, she had forfeited the confidence of the protestants, and even exposed herself in the eyes of the sober and moderate of her own party. This occurrence afforded her an opportunity of turning the public indignation from her- self, and directing it against the congrega- tion, which she did not fail to improve with her usual address. Having assembled the nobility, she magnified the accidental tumult into a dangerous and designed rebellion. To the catholics she dwelt upon the sacrilegious overthrow of those venerable structures which their ancestors had dedicated to the service of God. To the protestants who had not joined those at Perth, she complained of the destruction of the royal foundation of the charter- house, protested that she had no intention of offering violence to their consciences, and promised her protection, provided they assisted her in punishing those who had been guilty of this violation of public order. Having inflamed the minds of all | against them, she advanced to Perth with ! an army, threatening to lay waste the town with fire and sword, and to inflict the most exemplary vengeance on all who had been instrumental in producing the riot. The protestants of the north were not insensible of their danger, and did all in their power to appease the rage of the queen ; they wrote to her, to the command- ers of the French troops, to the popish nobles, and to those of their own persua- sion ; they solemnly disclaimed all rebellious intentions ; they protested their readiness to yield all due obedience to the govern- ment ; they obtested and admonished all to 139 refrain from offering violence to peaceable subjects, who sought only the liberty of their consciences. Finding all these endeavours fruitless, they resolved, however, not to suffer themselves and their brethren to be i massacred, but prepared for a defence of the town against an illegal and furious assault. So prompt and vigorous were their measures, that the regent, when she approached, deemed it imprudent to attack them, and proposed overtures of accommo- dation, to which they readily acceded. While the two armies lay before Perth, and negotiations were going on between them, our reformer obtained an interview with the prior of St Andrews and the young earl of Argyle, who adhered to the regent ; he reminded them of the solemn engagements which they had contracted, and charged them with violating these, by abetting measures which tended to the suppression of the reformed religion, and the enslaving of their native country. The noblemen assured him that they held their engagements sacred ; the regent had re- quested them to use their best endeavours to bring the present differences to an amicable termination ; if, however, she violated the present treaty, they promised that they would no longer adhere to her, but would openly take part with the rest ol the congregation. The queen was not long in affording them the opportunity of verify- ing this promise. The lords of the congregation now re- solved to introduce a reformation, in those places to which their authority or influence extended, and where the greater part of the inhabitants were friendly, by abolishing the popish superstition, and setting up the protestant worship in its room. The feudal ideas respecting the jurisdiction of the nobility, which at that time prevailed in Scotland, in part justified this step : the urgent and extreme necessity of the case forms its best vindication. St Andrews was the place fixed on for beginning these operations. With this view, Lord James Stuart, who w T as prior of the abbey of St Andrews, and the earl of Argyle, made an appointment with Knox to meet him on a certain day, in that city. Travelling along the east coast of Fife, he preached at Anstruther and Crail, and on the 9th of June, he came to St Andrews. The archbishop, apprized of his design to preach in his cathedral, assembled an armed force, and sent infor- mation to him, that if he appeared in the pulpit, he would give orders to the soldiers to fire upon him. The noblemen, having met to consult what ought to be done, were of opinion that Knox should desist from preaching at that time. Their retinue was very slender ; they had not yet ascertained the disposition of the town ; the queen lay at a small distance with an army, ready to come to the bishop’s assistance ; and his appearance in the pulpit might lead to the sacrifice of his own life, and the lives of those who w’ere determined to defend him from violence. But had the reformers, after announcing their intentions, suffered themselves to be intimidated by the bravadoing attitude and threats of the archbishop, their cause would, at the very outset, have received a blow, from which it would not easily have recovered. This was prevented by the firmness and intrepidity of Knox. Fired with the recollection of the part which he had formerly acted on that spot, and with the near prospect of realizing the sanguine hopes which he had cherished in his breast for many years, he replied to the solicita- tions of his brethren, — That he could take God to witness, that he never preached in contempt of any man, nor with the design of hurting an earthly creature ; but to delay to preach next day (unless forcibly hindered), he could not in conscience agree. In that town, and in that church, had God first raised him to the dignity of a preacher, and from it he had been reft by French tyranny, at the instigation of the Scotch bishops. The length of his im- prisonment, and the tortures which he had endured, he would not at present recite; but one thing he could not conceal, that, in the hearing of many yet alive, he had expressed his confident hope of again preaching in St Andrews. Now, therefore, when Pro- vidence, beyond all men’s expectation, had brought him to that place, he besought them not to hinder him. “ As for the fear of danger that may come to me,” continued he, “ let no man be solicitous ; for my life is in the custody of Him whose glory I seek. I desire the hand or weapon of no man to defend me. I only crave audience ; which, if it be denied here unto me at this time, I must seek w r here I may have it.” This intrepid reply silenced all further remonstrances ; and next day Knox ap- peared in the pulpit, and preached to a numerous assembly without meeting with the slightest opposition or interruption. He discoursed on the subject of our Saviour’s ejecting the profane traffickers from the temple of Jerusalem ; from which he took occasion to expose the enormous corruptions which had been introduced into the church, under the papacy; and to point out what was incumbent upon Chris- tians, in their different spheres, for remov- ing them. On the three following days he preached in the same place ; and such was the influence of his doctrine, that the pro- vost, bailies, and inhabitants, harmoniously agreed to set up the reformed worship in the town; the church was stripped of images and pictures, and the monasteries pulled down. The example of St Andrews was quickly followed in other parts of the kingdom ; and, in the course of a few weeks, at CraiJ, i I I JOHN KNOX. 141 at Cupar, at Lindores, at Stirling, at Linlithgow, and at Edinburgh, the houses of the monks were overthrown, and all the instruments which had been employed to foster idolatry and image-worship were destroyed. Our reformer continued at St Andrews till the end of June, when he came to Edinburgh, from which the regent and her forces had retired. The protestants in this city fixed their eyes upon him, and chose him immediately for their minister. He accordingly entered upon that charge ; but the lords of the congregation having soon after concluded a treaty with the regent, by which they delivered up Edin- burgh to her, judged it unsafe for him to remain there, on account of the ex- treme personal hostility with which the papists were inflamed against him. Willock, as being less obnoxious to them, was there- fore substituted in his place, while he un- dertook a tour of preaching through the kingdom. This itinerancy had great influ- ence in extending the reformed interest. The wide field which was before him ; the interesting situation in which he was placed; the dangers by which he was sur- rounded, and the hopes which he cherished, increased the ardour of his zeal, and stimu- lated him to extraordinary exertions both of body and mind. Within less than two months, he travelled over the greater part of Scotland. He visited K^lso, and Jed- burgh, and Dumfries, and Ayr, and Stirling, and Perth, and Brechin, and Montrose, and Dundee, and returned again to St Andrews. The attention of the nation was aroused ; their eyes were opened to the errors by which they had been deluded; and they panted for the word of life which they had once tasted. Immediately after his arrival in Scotland, Knox wrote to Genevafor his wife and family. On the 13th of June, Mrs Knox and her family were at Paris, and applied to Sir Nicolas Throkmorton, the English ambas- sador, fora safeconduct to pass into England. Throkmorton, who by this time had begun to penetrate the counsels of the French court, not only granted this, but wrote a letter to the queen, in which he urged the propriety of overlooking the offence which Knox had given by his publication, and of conciliating him by the kind treatment of his wife ; seeing he was in great credit with the lords of the congregation ; had been the principal instrument in producing the late change in that kingdom ; and was capable of doing essential service to her majesty. Accordingly, Mrs Knox came into England, and being conveyed to the borders by the direction of the court, reached her husband in safety, on the 20th of September. Her mother, after remain- ing a short time in her native country, followed her into Scotland, where she re- mained until her death. The arrival of his family was the more gratifying to our reformer, that they were accompanied by Christopher Goodman. He had repeatedly written, in the most pressing manner, for his late colleague to come to his assistance, and expressed much uneasiness at the delay of his arrival. Goodman became minister of St Andrews. The settlement of protestant ministers took place at an earlier period than is mention- ed in our common histories. Previous to September, 1559, eight towns were pro- vided with pastors ; other places remained unprovided, owing to the scarcity of preachers, which was severely felt. In the mean time, it became daily more apparent that the lords of the congregation would be unable, without foreign aid, to maintain the struggle in which they were involved. Had the contest been merely between them and the domestic party of the regent, they would soon have brought ! it to a successful termination; but they j could not withstand the veteran troops ! which France had sent to her assistance, j and was preparing to send, in still more I formidable numbers. As far back as the middle of June, our reformer renewed his exertions for obtaining assistance from England, and persuaded William Kircaldy of Grange, first to write, and afterwards to pay a visit to Sir Henry Percy, who held a public situation on the English marches. Percy immediately transmitted his repre- sentations to London, and an answer was returned from secretary Cecil, encouraging the correspondence. Knox himself wrote to Cecil, requesting permission to visit England, and enclosed a letter to queen Elizabeth, in which he attempted to apologize for his rude attack upon female government. There was nothing at which he was more awkward than making apologies. The letter con- tains professions of strong attachment to Elizabeth’s government ; hut the strain in which it is written is such as, if it was ever read by that high-minded princess, must have aggravated instead of extenuating his offence. But the sagacious secretary, we have little doubt, suppressed it. He was himself friendly to the measure of assisting the Scottish congregation, and exerted all his influence to bring over the queen and her council to his opinion. A message was accordingly sent to Knox, desiring him to meet with Sir Henry Percy at Alnwick, on the 2d of August, upon business which required the utmost secrecy and despatch ; and Cecil came down to Stamford to hold an interview with him. The confusion produced by the advance of the regent’s army upon Edinburgh re- tarded his journey ; hut no sooner was this settled, than he sailed from Pittenweem to Holy Island. Finding that Percy was recalled from the borders, he applied to Sir James Croft, governor of Berwick. Croft, who was not unapprized of the de- sign upon which he came, dissuaded him from proceeding farther into England, and undertook to despatch his communications to London, and to procure a speedy return. While he remained at Berwick, Whitlaw came from the English court with an- swers to the letters formerly sent ; and he immediately returned to lay these before a meeting of the protestant lords at Stir- ling. The irresolution or the caution of Elizabeth’s cabinet had led them to express themselves in such general and unsatisfac- tory terms, that the assembly were both disappointed and displeased; and it was with some difficulty that our reformer obtained permission from them to write again to London in his own name. The representation which he gave of the urgency of the case, and the danger of further hesi- tation or delay, produced a speedy reply, desiring them to send a confidential mes- senger to Berwick, who would receive a sum of money to assist them in carrying on the war. About the same time, Sir Ralph Saddler was sent down to Berwick, to act as an accredited, but secret agent ; and the correspondence between the court of Lon- don and the lords of the congregation con- tinued afterwards to be carried on through him and Sir James Croft, until the English auxiliary army entered Scotland. If we reflect upon the connexion which the religious and civil liberties of the na- tion had with the contest in which the protestants v*ere engaged, and upon our reformer’s zeal in that cause, we will not be greatly surprised to find liim at this time acting in the character of a politician. Extraordinary cases cannot be measured by ordinary rules. In a great emergency, like that under consideration, when all that is valuable and dear to a people is at stake, it becomes the duty of every individual to step forward, and exert the talents with which he is endowed for the public good. Learning was at this time rare among the nobility : and though there were men ol JOHN KNOX. 143 distinguished abilities among the protestant leaders, few of them had been accustomed to transact public business. Accordingly, the management of the correspondence with England was for a time devolved chiefly on Balnaves and our reformer. But he submitted to this merely from a sense of duty and regard to the common cause ; and, when the younger Maitland acceded to their party, he expressed the greatest satisfaction at the prospect which this gave him of being relieved from the burden. In a letter to Sir James Croft, Knox represented the great importance of their being speedily assisted with troops, without which they would be in much hazard of miscarrying in an attack upon the fortifi- cations of Leith. The court of England, he said, ought not to hesitate at offending France, of whose hostile intentions against them they had the most satisfactory evi- dence. But “ if ye list to craft with thame,” continued he, “ the sending of a thousand or mo men to us can breake no league nor point of peace contracted betwixt you and France: For it is free for your subjects to serve in warr anie prince or nation for their wages ; and if yee fear that such excuses will not prevail, ye may declare thame rebelles to your realme, when ye shall be assured that thei be in our companie.” No doubt such things have been often done ; and such political casuistry c as Keith not improperly styles it, is not unknown at courts. But it must be confessed, that the measure recommended by Knox — the mo- rality of which must stand on the same grounds with the assistance which the English were at that time affording — was too glaring to be concealed by the excuses which he suggested. Croft laid hold of this opportunity to check the impetuosity of his correspondent, and wrote him, that he wondered how he, “ being a wise man,” would require from them such aid as they could not give “ without breach of treaty, ; and dishonour and that the world was not so blind as not to see through the devices by which he proposed to colour the matter. Knox, in his reply, apologized for his “ unreasonable request but, at the same time, reminded Croft of the common ! practice of courts in such matters, and of the French court towards themselves in a recent instance ; he was not ignorant, he said, of the inconveniences which might j attend an open declaration in their favour, j but feared that they would have cause to “ repent the drift of time, when the remedy shall not be so easy.” Notwithstanding the prejudice which existed in the English court against our reformer, on account of his “ audacity” in attacking female prerogative, they were too well acquainted with his integrity and in- fluence to decline his services. Cecil kept up a correspondence with him ; and, in the j directions sent from London for the man- j agement of the subsidy, it was expressly j provided that he should be one of the council for examining the receipts and payments, to see that it was applied to the common action, and not to any private use. In the mean time, his zeal and activity in the cause of the congregation exposed him to the deadly resentment of the queen regent and the papists. A reward was publicly offered to the person who should seize or kill him, and numbers, actuated by hatred or avarice, lay in wait for his apprehension. But he was not deterred by this from appearing in public, nor from travelling through the country, in the discharge of his duty. His exertions at this period were incredibly great. By day he was employed in preaching; by night in writing letters on public business. He was the soul of the congregation ; was always pre- sent at the post of danger ; and by his presence, his public discourses, and private SCOTS WORTHIES. 144 advices, animated the whole body, and de- feated the schemes employed to corrupt and disunite them. On the 21st of October, an assembly of nobles, barons, and representatives of boroughs, was convened at Edinburgh, to deliberate on the lawfulness of suspending the queen regent. Willock, who then officiated as minister of Edinburgh, and Knox, were called to attend, when they both concurred in the legality of the pro- posal. Those who judge of the propriety of any measure, from the success with which it is accompanied, will be disposed to condemn this treatment of the queen. Soon after this step was taken, the affairs of the con- sent to Berwick, to receive a remittance from the English court, was intercepted on his return, and rifled of the treasure; their soldiers mutinied for want of pay; they were repulsed in a premature assault upon the fortifications of Leith, and worst- ed in a skirmish with the French troops ; the secret emissaries of the regent were too successful among them ; their numbers daily decreased; and the remainder, dis- united, dispirited, and dismayed, came to the resolution of abandoning Edinburgh on the evening of the 5th of November, and retreated with precipitation and dis- grace to Stirling. Amidst the universal dejection produced by these disasters, the spirit of Knox re- gregation began to wear a gloomy appear- ance. The messenger whom they had mained unsubdued. On the day after their arrival at Stirling, he mounted the j pulpit, and delivered a discourse, which had a wonderful effect in rekindling the zeal and courage of the congregation. Their faces, he said, were confounded. their enemies triumphed, their hearts had quaked for fear, and still remained oppress- ed with sorrow and shame. What was the cause for which God had thus dejected them? The situation of their affairs re- quired plain language, and he would use it. In the present distressed state of their minds, they were in danger of fixing upon an erroneous cause of their misfortunes, and of imagining that they had offended in taking the sword of self-defence into their hands ; just as the tribes of Israel did when twice discomfited in the war which they undertook, by divine direction, against their brethren the Benjamites. Having divided the congregation into two classes, those who had been embarked in the cause from the beginning, and those who had lately acceded to it, he proceeded to point out what he considered as blama- ble in the conduct of each ; and, after ex- horting all to amendment of life, prayers, and works of charity, he concluded with an animating address. God, he said, often suffered the wicked to triumph for a while, and exposed his chosen congregation to mockery, dangers, and apparent destruc- tion, in order to abase their self-confidence, and induce them to look to him for de- liverance and victory. If they turned un- feignedly to the Eternal, he no more doubted that their present distress would be converted into joy, and followed by success, than he doubted that Israel was finally victorious over the Benjamites, after being twice repulsed with ignominy. The cause in which they were engaged would, in spite of all opposition, prevail in Scot- land. It was the eternal truth of the eternal God which they maintained; it might be oppressed for a time, but would ultimately triumph. The audience, who had entered the church in deep despondency, left it with renovated courage. In the afternoon the council met, and after prayer by the re- former, unanimously agreed to despatch Maitland to London to supplicate more effectual assistance from Elizabeth. In the mean time, as they were unable to keep the field, they resolved to divide ; and that the one half of the council should remain at Glasgow, and the other at St Andrews. Knox was appointed to attend the latter. The French having, in the beginning of the year 1560, penetrated into Fife, he encouraged that small band, which, under the earl of Arran, and the prior of St Andrews, bravely resisted their progress, until the appearance of the English fleet obliged them to make a precipitate retreat. The disaster which caused the protestant army to leave Edinburgh turned out to the advantage of their cause. It obliged the English court to abandon the line of cautious policy which they had hitherto pursued. On the 27th of February, 1560, they concluded a formal treaty with the lords of the congregation ; and, in the be- ginning of April, the English army entered Scotland. The French troops retired within the fortifications of Leith, and were invested by sea and land; the queen regent died in the castle of Edinburgh during the siege; and the ambassadors of France were forced to agree to a treaty, by which it was provided that the French troops should be removed from Scotland, an amnesty granted to all who had been engaged in the late resistance to the measures of the regent, their principal grievances redressed, and a free parliament called to settle the other affairs of the kingdom. During the continuance of the civil war, while the protestant preachers were as- siduous in disseminating the knowledge of the truth through all parts of the kingdom, the popish clergy used no exertions to counteract them. Too corrupt to think of reforming their manners ; and too illiterate to be capable of defending their errors, they placed their forlorn hope upon the success T SCOTS WORTHIES. 146 of the French arms, and looked forward to the issue of the contest, as involving the establishment or the ruin of their religion. One attempt they indeed made to recover their lost reputation, and support their sinking cause — by reviving the stale pretence of miracles wrought at the shrines of their saints. But the detection of the imposture exposed them to derision, and was the occasion of their losing a person, who, by his learning and integrity, was the greatest ornament of their party. The treaty which put an end to hostili- ties made no settlement respecting religious differences; but, on that very account, it was fatal to popery. The power was left in the hands of the protestants. The Roman catholic worship was almost uni- versally deserted through the kingdom, except in those places which had been occupied by the regent and her foreign auxiliaries; and no provision was made for its restoration. The firm hold which it once had of the opinions and affections of the people was completely loosened; it was supported by force alone; and the moment that the French troops embarked, that fabric, which had stood for ages in Scot- land, fell to the ground. Its feeble and dismayed priests ceased, of their own ac- cord, from the celebration of its rites; and the reformed service was peaceably set up, wherever ministers could be found to per- form it. The parliament, when it met, had little else to do respecting religion, than to sanction what the nation had pre- viously adopted. In the assignation of ministers to the different parts of the kingdom, a measure which engaged the attention of the protes- tants immediately after the proclamation of peace, the temporary arrangements formerly made were in general confirmed; and our reformer resumed his station as minister of Edinburgh. During the month of August, he was employed in composing the Protes- tant Confession of Faith, which was pre- sented to the parliament, who ratified it and abolished the papal jurisdiction and worship. The organization of the reformed church was not yet completed. Hitherto the Book of Common Order, agreed upon by the English church at Geneva, had been chiefly followed as a directory for worship and government. But this having been compiled for the use of a single congrega- tion, composed, too, for the most part, of men of education, was found inadequate for an extensive church, consisting of a multitude of confederated congregations. Sensible of the great importance of ecclesi- astical polity for the maintenance of order, the preservation of purity of doctrine and morals, and the general flourishing' of re- ligion in the kingdom, our reformer, at an early period, called the attention of the protestants to this subject, and urged its speedy settlement. In consequence of this, the lords of the privy 'council appointed him and other five ministers to draw out such a plan as they judged most agreeable to scripture, and conducive to the advance- ment of religion. They met accordingly; and with great pains, and much unanimity, formed the book which was afterwards called the First Book of Discipline. Our reformer had a chief hand in the compila- tion of this book. The first General Assembly of the re- formed church of Scotland sat down at Edinburgh on the 20th of December, 1560. It consisted of forty members, only six of whom were ministers. Knox was one of these; and he continued to sit in most of its meetings until the time of his death. Their deliberations were conducted at first with great simplicity and unanimity. It is a singular circumstance, that they had seven different meetings without a presi- dent or moderator. But as the number of members increased, and business be- JOHN KNOX. came more complicated, a moderator was appointed to be chosen at every meeting; he was invested with authority to maintain order; and regulations were enacted con- cerning the constituent members of the court, the causes which ought to come be- fore them, and the order of procedure. In the close of this year our reformer suffered a heavy domestic loss by the death of his valuable wife, who, after sharing in the hardships of her husband’s exile, was removed from him when he had obtained a comfortable settlement for his family. He was left with the charge of two young chil- dren, in addition to his other cares. His mother-in-law was still with him; but though he took pleasure in her religious company, the dejection of mind to which she was subject, and which all his efforts could never completely cure, rather in- creased than lightened his burden. His acute feelings were severely wounded by this stroke ; but he endeavoured to moder- ate his grief by the consolations which he administered to others, and by application to public duties. He had the satisfaction of receiving, on this occasion, a letter from his much respected friend Calvin, in which expressions of great esteem for his deceased partner were mingled with condolence for his loss. We may take this opportunity of mentioning, that Knox, with the consent of his brethren, consulted the Genevan re- former upon several difficult questions which occurred respecting the settlement of the Scottish reformation; and that a number of letters passed between them on this subject. Anxieties on a public account were felt by Knox along with his domestic distress. The reformation had hitherto advanced with a success equal to his most sanguine expectations; and, at this time, no opposi- tion was publicly made to the new estab- lishment. But matters were still in a very critical state. There was a party in the nation, by no means inconsiderable in 147 numbers and power, who remained addicted to popery; and, though they had given way to the torrent, they anxiously waited for an opportunity to embroil the country in an- other civil war, for the restoration of the ancient religion. Queen Mary and her husband, the king of France, had refused to ratify the late treaty, and had dismissed the deputy sent by the parliament, with marks of the highest displeasure at the innovations which they had presumed to introduce. A new army was preparing in France for the invasion of Scotland against the spring; emissaries were sent, in the mean time, to encourage and unite the Roman catholics; and it was doubtful if the queen of England would subject herself to new expense and odium, by protecting them against a second attack. The danger was not unperceived by our reformer, who exerted himself to prepare his countrymen, by impressing their minds with a due sense of it, and exciting them speedily to complete the settlement of re- ligion throughout the kingdom, which, he was persuaded, would prove the principal bulwark against the assaults of their ad- versaries. In the state in which the minds of men then were, his admonitions were listened to by many who had formerly treated them with indifference. The threat- ened storm blew over, in consequence of the death of the French king; but this necessarily led to a measure which involved the Scottish protestants in a new struggle, and exposed the reformed church to dangers less obvious and striking ; but, on that ac- count, not less to be dreaded than open violence and hostility. This was the in- vitation given by the protestant nobility to their young queen, who, on the 19th of August, 1561, arrived in Scotland and assumed the reins of government into her own hands. The reception which she met with on her first arrival in Scotland was flattering; SCOTS WORTHIES. 1 148 but an occurrence which took place soon after damped the joy which had been ex- pressed, and prognosticated future jealousies and confusion. Resolved to give her sub- jects an early proof of her firm determina- tion to adhere to the Roman catholic worship, Mary directed preparations to be made for the celebration of a solemn mass in the chapel of Holyrood-house, on the first Sunday after her arrival. So great was the horror with which the protestants viewed this service, and the alarm which they felt at finding it countenanced by their queen, that the first rumour of the design excited violent murmurs, which would have burst into an open tumult, had not the leaders interfered, and by their authority repressed the zeal of the multitude. Knox, from regard to public tranquillity, and to avoid giving offence to the queen and her relations, at the present juncture, used his influence in private conversation to allay the fervour of the more zealous, who were ready to prevent the service by force. But he was not less alarmed at the precedent than the rest of his brethren; and, having exposed the evil of idolatry in his sermon on the following Sabbath, he said, that “one mess was more fearfull unto him, than if ten thousand armed enemies wer landed in ony parte of the realme, of pur- pose to suppress the hole religioun.” Besides his fears for the common cause, Knox had grounds for apprehension as to his personal safety. The queen was pecu- liarly incensed against him on account of the active hand which he had in the late revolution ; the popish clergy who left the kingdom represented him as the ringleader of her factious subjects ; and she had signi- fied, before she left France, that she was determined he should be punished. His book against female government was most probably the ostensible charge on which he was to be prosecuted ; and accordingly we find him making application through the English resident at Edinburgh, to secure the favour of Elizabeth ; reasonably fearing that she might be induced to abet the pro- ceedings against him on this head. But whatever perils he apprehended from the personal presence of the queen, either to the public or to himself, he used not the smallest influence to prevent her being invited home. On the contrary, he con- curred with his brethren in this measure, and in defeating a scheme which the duke of Chatelherault, under the direction of the archbishop of St Andrews, had formed to exclude her from the government. But when the prior of St Andrews was sent to France with the invitation, he urged that her desisting from the celebration of mass should be one of the conditions of her re- turn; and when he found him and the rest of the council disposed to grant her this liberty within her own chapel, he predicted that “ her liberty would be their thraldom.” Soon after her arrival, queen Mary, whether of her own accord or by advice is uncertain, sent for Knox to the palace, and held a long conversation with him, in the presence of her brother the prior of St Andrews. She seems to have expected to awe him into submission by her authority, if not to confound him by her arguments. But the bold freedom with which he replied to all her charges, and vindicated his own conduct, convinced her that the one ex- pectation was not more vain than the other; and the impression which she wished to make was left on her own mind. She accused him of raising her subjects against her mother and herself ; of writing a book against her just authority, which, she said, she would cause the most learned men in Europe to answer; of being the cause of sedition and bloodshed when he was in England; and of accomplishing his purposes by magical arts. To these heavy charges Knox replied — that, if to teach the truth of God in sincer- JOHN KNOX. itv, to rebuke idolatry, and exhort a people to worship God according to his word, were to excite subjects to rise against their princes, then he stood convicted of that crime; for it had pleased God to employ him, among others, to disclose unto that realm the vanity of the papistical religion, with the deceit, pride, and tyranny of the Roman Antichrist. But if the true know- ledge of God and his right worship were the most powerful inducements to subjects cordially to obey their princes, as they certainly were, he was innocent. Her Grace, he was persuaded, had at present as unfeigned obedience from the protestants of Scotland, as ever her father or any of her ancestors had from those called bishops. With respect to what had been reported to her majesty, concerning the fruits of his preaching in England, he was glad that his enemies laid nothing to his charge but what the world knew to be false. If any of them could prove, that in any of the places where he had resided, there was either sedition or mutiny, he would confess him- self to be a malefactor. So far from this being the case, he was not ashamed to say, that in Berwick, where bloodshed among the soldiers had formerly been common, God so blessed his weak labours, that there was as great quietness during the time he resided in it, as there was at present in Edinburgh. The slander of practising magic (an art which he had condemned wherever he preached,) he could more easily bear, when he recollected that his Master, the Lord Jesus, had been defamed as one in league with Beelzebub. As to the book which seemed so highly to offend her majesty, he owned that he wrote it, and was willing that all the learned should judge of it. He understood that an Englishman had written against it ; but he had not read him. If he had sufficiently confuted his arguments, and established the contrary propositions, he would confess 149 his error; but to that hour he continued to think himself alone more able to sustain the things affirmed in that work, than any ten in Europe were to confute them. “ You think I have no just authority,” said the queen. “ Please your majesty,” replied he, “ learned men in all ages have had their judgments free, and most com- monly disagreeing from the common judg- ment of the world; such also have they published both with pen and tongue ; not- withstanding, they themselves had lived in the common society with others, and have borne patiently with the errors and imper- fections which they could not amend. Plato the philosopher wrote his book Of the Commonwealth, in which he condemn- ed many things that then were maintained in the world, and required many things to have been reformed; and yet notwithstand- ing, he lived under such policies as then were universally received, without further troubling of any state. Even so, Madam, am I content to do, in uprightness of heart, and with a testimony of a good conscience.” He added, that his sentiments on that sub- ject should be confined to his own breast; and that, if she refrained from persecution, her authority would not be hurt, either by him, or his book, “ which was written most especially against the wicked Jesabell of England.” “ But ye speak of women in general,” said the queen. “ Most true it is, Madam : yet it appeareth to me, that wisdom should persuade your Grace never to raise trouble for that which to this day hath not troubled your majesty, neither in person nor in authority; for of late years many things, which before were held stable, have been called in doubt; yea, they have been plainly impugned. But yet, Madam, I am assured that neither protestant nor papist shall be able to prove, that any such question was at any time moved either in public or in secret. Now, Madam, if I had intended to 150 SCOTS WORTHIES. have troubled your state, because ye are a woman, I would have chosen a time more convenient for that purpose, than I can do now, when your presence is within the realm.” Changing the subject, she charged him with having taught the people to receive a religion different from that allowed by their princes ; and asked, if this was not contrary to the divine command, that subjects should obey their rulers ? He replied, that true religion derived not its original or authority from princes, but from the eternal God; that princes were often most ignorant of the true religion; and that subjects were not bound to frame their religion according to the arbitrary will of their rulers; else the Hebrews would have been bound to adopt the religion of Pharaoh ; Daniel and his associates that of Nebuchadnezzar and Darius; and the primitive Christians that of the Roman emperors. “ Yea,” replied the queen, qualifying her assertion; “but none of these men raised the sword against their princes.” “ Yet you cannot deny,” said he, “ that they resisted; for those who obey not the commandment given them do in some sort resist.” “ But they resisted not with the sword,” rejoined the queen, pressing home the argument. “ God, Madam, had not given unto them the power and the means.” “ Think you,” said the queen, “ that subjects, having the power, may resist their princes ?” “ If princes exceed their bounds, Madam, no doubt they may be resisted, even by power. For no greater honour, or greater obedi- ence, is to be given to kings and princes, than God has commanded to be given to father and mother. But the father may be struck with a phrensy, in which he would slay his children. Now, Madam, if the children arise, join together, apprehend the father, take the sword from him, bind his hands, and keep him in prison till the phrensy be over ; think you, Madam, that the children do any wrong? Even so, Madam, is it with princes that would murder the children of God that are sub- ject unto them. Their blind zeal is no- thing but a mad phrensy; therefore, to take the sword from them, to bind their hands, and to cast them into prison till they be brought to a more sober mind, is no dis- obedience against princes, but just obedi- ence ; because it agreeth with the will of God.” The queen, who had hitherto maintained her courage in reasoning, was completely overpowered by this bold answer : her countenance changed, and she continued in a silent stupor. Her brother spoke to her, and inquired the cause of her uneasi- ness ; but she made no reply. At length, recovering herself, she said, “ Well then, I perceive that my subjects shall obey you, and not me, and will do what they please, and not what I command ; and so must I be subject to them, and not they to me.” “ God forbid !” answered Knox, “ that ever I take upon me to command any to obey me, or to set subjects at liberty to do what- ever pleases them. But my travel is, that both princes and subjects may obey God. And think not, Madam, that wrong is done you, when you are required to be subject unto God; for it is he who subjects people under princes, and causes obedience to be given unto them. He craves of kings, that they be as foster-fathers to his church, and commands queens to be nurses to his people. And this subjection, Madam, unto God and his church, is the greatest dignity that flesh can get upon the face of the earth ; for it shall raise them to everlasting glory.” “ But you are not the church that I will nourish,” said the queen: “ I will defend the church of Rome; for it is, I think, the true church of God.” “ Your will, Madam, is no reason; neither doth your thought make the Roman harlot to be the true JOHN KNOX. 151 and immaculate spouse of Jesus Christ. Wonder not, Madam, that I call Rome an harlot; for that church is altogether polluted with all kinds of spiritual fornication, both in doctrine and manners.” He added, that he was ready to prove that the Romish j church had declined farther from the purity of religion taught by the apostles, than the Jewish church had degenerated from the ordinances which God gave them by Moses and Aaron, at the time when they denied and crucified the Son of God. “ My con- science is not so,” said the queen. “ Con- science, Madam, requires knowledge ; and I fear that right knowledge you have none.” She said, she had both heard and read. “ So, Madam, did the Jews who crucified Christ ; they read the law and the prophets, and heard them interpreted after their manner. Have you heard any teach but such as the pope and cardinals have allowed? — and you may be assured, that such will speak nothing to offend their own estate.” “ You interpret the Scriptures in one way,” said the queen evasively, “ and they in another: whom shall I believe, and who shall be judge ?” “ You shall believe God, who plainly speaketh in his word,” replied the reformer, “ and farther than the word teacheth you, you shall believe neither the one nor the other. The word of God is plain in itself ; if there is any obscurity in one place, the Holy Ghost, who is never contrary to himself, explains it more clearly in other places, so that there can remain no doubt, but unto such as are obstinately ignorant.” As an example, he selected one of the articles in controversy, that con- cerning the sacrament of the Supper, and proceeded to show, that the popish doctrine of the sacrifice of the Mass was destitute of all foundation in Scripture. But the queen, who was determined to avoid all discussion of the articles of her creed, interrupted him, by saying, that she was unable to contend with him in argument ; but if she had those present whom she had heard, they would answer him. “ Madam,” re- plied the reformer fervently, “ would to God that the learn edest papist in Europe, and he whom you would best believe, were present with your Grace to sustain the argument, and that you would wait patiently to hear the matter reasoned to the end! — for then, I doubt not, Madam, but you would hear the vanity of the papistical re- ligion, and how little ground it hath in the word of God.” “Well,” said she, “you may perchance get that sooner than you j believe.” “ Assuredly, if ever I get that in my life, I get it sooner than I believe; for the ignorant papist cannot patiently reason, and the learned and crafty papist will never come, in your audience, Madam, to have the ground of their religion searched out. When you shall let me see the contrary, I shall grant myself to have been deceived in that point.” The hour after dinner afford- ed an occasion for breaking off this singular conversation; and at taking leave of her majesty, the reformer said, “ I pray God, Madam, that you may be as blessed within the commonwealth of Scotland, as ever De- borah was in the commonwealth of Israel.” The reformer was not ignorant that some of his friends thought him too severe in his language, but he was persuaded that the times required the utmost plainness ; and he was afraid that snares lurked under the smoothness which was re- commended and practised by courtiers. The abatement of zeal which he dreaded from “ the holy water of the court,” soon began to appear among the protestant leaders. The General Assemblies of the church were a great eyesore to the queen, who was very desirous to have them put down. At the first Assembly after her arrival, the courtiers, through her influence, absented themselves, and, when challenged for this, began to dispute the propriety of SCOTS WORTHIES. 152 such conventions without her majesty’s pleasure. On this point, there was sharp reasoning between Knox and Maitland, who was now made secretary of state. “ Take from us the liberty of assemblies, — and take from us the gospel,” said the reformer. “ If the liberty of the church must depend upon her allowance or dis- allowance, we shall want not only assem- blies, hut also the preaching of the gospel.” He was still more indignant at their man- agement in settling the provision for the ministers of the church. Hitherto they had lived mostly on the benevolence of their hearers, and many of them had scarcely the means of subsistence ; but repeated complaints having obliged the privy council to take up the affair, they came at last to a determination, that the ecclesiastical revenues should be divided into three parts ; that two of these should be given to the ejected popish clergy ; and that the other part should be divided be- tween the court and the protestant minis- try ! The persons appointed to modify the stipends were disposed to gratify the queen ; and the sums allotted to the ministers were as ill paid as they were paltry and inade- quate. “We all !” exclaimed Knox, when he heard of this disgraceful arrangement, “ if the end of this ordour, pretendit to be takin for sustentatioun of the ministers, be happie, my judgement fades me. I sie twa pairtis freelie gevin to the devill, and the thrid mon be devyded betwix God and the devill. Quho wald have thoclit, that quhen Joseph reulled in Egypt, his brethren sould have travellit for victualles ; and have re- turned with emptie sackes unto thair families ? O happie servands of the devill, and miserabill servands of Jesus Christ, if efter this lyf thair wer not hell and heavin !” He vented his mind more freely on this subject, as his complaints could not be im- puted to personal motives ; for his own stipend, though moderate, was liberal when compared with those of the most of his brethren. From the time of his last return to Scotland, until the conclusion of the war, he had been indebted to the liberality of individuals for the support of his family. After that period, he lodged for some time in the house of David Forrest, a burgess of Edinburgh, from which he removed to the lodging which had belonged to Durie, abbot of Dunfermline. As soon as he began to preach statedly in the city, the town council assigned him an annual stipend of two hundred pounds, to be paid quarterly; besides discharging his house- rent, and re-imbursing some individuals the money which they had expended in main- taining his family. Subsequent to the settlement made by the privy council, it would seem that he received his stipend from the common fund, allotted to the ministers of the church; but the good town had still an opportunity of testifying their generosity, by supplying the deficien- cies of the legal allowance. Indeed, the uniform attention of the town council to his external accommodation and comfort was honourable to them, and deserves to be recorded to their commendation. In the beginning of the year 1562, he went to Angus to preside in the election and admission of John Erskine of Dun as superintendent of Angus and Mearns. That respectable baron was one of those whom the first general assembly declared “ apt and able to minister ;” and having already contributed in different ways to the advance- ment of the reformation, he now devoted himself to the service of the church, in a laborious employment, at a time when she stood eminently in need of the assistance of all the learned and pious. Knox had formerly presided at the installation of John Spottiswood, as superintendent of Lothian. The influence of our reformer appears JOHN KNOX. from his being employed on different occa- sions to compose variances of a civil nature, which arose among the protestants. He was applied to frequently, to intercede with the town council in behalf of some of the inhabitants, who had subjected themselves to punishment by their disorderly conduct. In March, this year, the earl of Bothwell urged him to assist in removing a deadly feud which subsisted between him and the earl of Arran. He was averse to interfere in this business, which had already baffled the authority of the privy council ; but, at the desire of some friends, he yielded, and, after considerable pains, had the satisfaction of bringing the parties to an amicable in- terview, at which they mutually promised to bury all differences. But he was ex- ceedingly mortified by the information which Arran, immediately on the back of this agreement, communicated to him, of a conspiracy which Bothwell had proposed to him, which produced the imprisonment of both ; and, notwithstanding the lunacy of the informer, created great jealousies in the minds of the principal courtiers. In the month of May, Knox had another interview with the queen, on the following occasion. The family of Guise were at this time making the most vigorous efforts to regain that influence in France which they had been deprived of since the death of Francis II.; and, as zeal for the catholic religion was the cloak by which they cover- ed their ambitious designs, they began by stirring up persecution against the pro- testants. The massacre of Vassy, in the beginning of March, this year, was a pre- lude to this ; in which the duke of Guise and cardinal of Lorraine attacked, with an armed force, a congregation assembled for worship, killed a number of them, and wounded and mutilated others, not except- ing women and children. Intelligence of the success which attended the measures of her uncles was brought to queen Mary, 153 who immediately after gave a splendid ball to her foreign servants, at which the dancing was prolonged to a late hour. Knox was advertised of the festivities in the palace, and the occasion of them. Fie always felt a lively interest in the concerns of the French protestants, with many of whom he was intimately acquainted ; and he entertained a very bad opinion of the princes of Lorraine. In his sermon on the following Sabbath, he introduced some severe strictures upon the vices to which princes were addicted, their oppression, ignorance, hatred to virtue, attachment to bad company, and fondness for foolish pleasures. Information of this discourse was quickly conveyed to the queen, 'with many exaggerations ; and the preacher was next day ordered to attend at the palace. Being conveyed into the royal chamber, where the queen sat with her maids of honour and principal counsellors, he was accused of having spoken of her majesty irreverently, and in such a manner as to bring her under the contempt and hatred of her subjects. After the queen had made a long speech on that theme, he was allowed to state his defence. He told her majesty, that she had been treated as persons usually were who refused to attend the preaching of the word of God: she had been obliged to trust to the false reports of flatterers ; for, if she had heard the calumniated discourse, he did not believe she could have been offended with anything that he had said. She would now, therefore, be pleased to hear him repeat, as exactly as he could, what he had preached yesterday. Having done this, he added, “ If any man, Madam, will say, that I spake more, let him pre- sently accuse me.” Several of the company attested that he had given a just report of the sermon. The queen, after turning round to the informers, who were dumb, told him, that his w r ords, though sharp u enough as related by himself, were report- ed to her in a different way. She added, that she knew that her uncles and he were of a different religion, and therefore did not blame him for having no good opinion of them ; but if he heard anything about her conduct which displeased him, he should come to herself, and she would be willing to hear him. Knox easily saw through the artifice of this fair proposal. He replied, that he was willing to do anything for her majesty’s contentment, which was con- sistent with his office ; if her Grace choosed to attend the public sermons, she would hear what pleased or displeased him in her and in others ; or if she pleased to appoint a time when she would hear the substance of the doctrine which he preached in public, he would most gladly wait upon her Grace’s pleasure, time, and place ; but to come and wait at her chamber-door, and then to have liberty only to whisper in her ear what people thought and said of her, that would neither his conscience nor his office permit him to do. “ For,” he added, in a strain which he sometimes used even on serious occasions, “albeit at your Grace’s commandment, I am heir now, yit can I not tell quhat uther men shall judge of me, that, at this tyme of day, am absent from my buke, and waiting upoun the court.” “ Ye will not alwayes be at your buke,” said the queen pettishly, and turned her back. As he left the room “ with a reasonable merry countenance,” some of the popish attendants said in his hearing, “ He is not afraid !” “ Why sould the piesing face of a gentilwoman affray me ?” said he, regarding them with a sarcastic scowl, “ I have luiked ih the faces of mony angry men, and yet have not bene affrayed above measour.” There was at this time but one place of worship in the city of Edinburgh. The j number of inhabitants was indeed small, I when compared with its present population ; | but still they must have formed a very large congregation. The place used for worship in St Giles’ church was capacious : on some occasions, three thousand persons assembled in it to hear sermon. In this church, Knox had, since 1560, performed all the parts of ministerial duty, without any other assistant but John Cairns, who acted as reader. He preached twice every ! Sabbath, and thrice on other days of the week. He met regularly once every week with the session of the parish, for discipline ; and with the assembly of the neighbour- hood, for the exercise on the scriptures. He attended, besides, the meetings of the provincial synod, and general assembly; and at almost every meeting of the last- mentioned court, he received an appoint- ment to visit and preach in some distant I part of the country. These labours must : have been oppressive to a constitution which was already impaired ; especially as he did not indulge in extemporaneous effu- sions, but devoted a part of every day to study. His parish were sensible of this ; and, in April, 1562, the town council came to an unanimous resolution to solicit John Craig, the minister of Canongate, or Holy- roodhouse, to undertake the half of the charge. The ensuing general assembly approved of the council’s proposal, and appointed Craig to remove to Edinburgh. His translation did not, however, take place before June, 1563, owing, as it would seem, to the difficulty of obtaining an addi- tional stipend. During the autumn of 1562, the Roman catholics entertained great hopes of a change in their favour. Afjter several unsuccessful attempts to cut off the prin- cipal protestant courtiers, the earl of Huntly openly took arms in the north, to j rescue the queen from their hands ; while the archbishop of St Andrews endeavoured ! to unite and rouse the papists of the south. On this occasion, our reformer acted with ' . JOHN KNOX. liis usual zeal and foresight. Being ap- pointed by the general assembly as com- missioner to visit the churches of the west, he persuaded the gentlemen of that quarter to enter into a new bond of defence. Hastening into Galloway and Nithsdale, he, by his sermons and conversation, con- firmed the protestants of these places. He employed the master of Maxwell to write to the earl of Bothwell, who had escaped from confinement, and meant, it was feared, to join Huntly. He himself wrote to the duke of Chatelherault, warning him not to listen to the solicitations of his brother, the archbishop, nor accede to a conspiracy which would infallibly prove the ruin of his house. By these means, the southern parts of the kingdom were preserved in a state of peace, while the vigorous measures of the council crushed the rebellion in the north. The queen expressed little satisfac- tion at the victory, and there is every reason to think, that if she was not privy to the rising of Huntly, she expected to turn it to the advancement of her projects. She scrupled not to say, at this time, that she “ hoped, before a year was expired, to have the mass and catholic profession re- stored through the whole kingdom.” While these hopes were indulged, the popish clergy thought it necessary to gain credit to their cause, by appearing more openly in defence of their tenets than they had lately done. They began to preach publicly, and boasted that they were ready to dispute with the protestant ministers. The person who stepped forward as their champion was Quintin Kennedy, uncle of the earl of Cassilis, and abbot of Crossra- guel. The abbot appears to have spent the greater part of his life in the same negligence of the duties of his office with the rest of his brethren ; but he was roused from his inactivity by the success of the protestant preachers, who, in the years 1556 and 1557, attacked the popish faith, 155 and inveighed against the idleness and corruption of the clergy. At an age when others retire from the field, he began to rub up his long neglected theological wea- pons, and to gird on his armour. His first appearance was in 1558, when he published a short system of catholic tactics, under the title of Ane Compendious Tractive, showing “ the nerrest and onlie way” to establish the conscience of a Christian man, in all matters which were in debate concerning faith and religion. This way was no other than that of implicit faith in the decisions of the church or clergy. The Scripture was only a witness ; the church was the judge, in every contro- versy, whose determinations, in general councils canonically assembled, were to be humbly received and submitted to by all the faithful. This was no doubt the most compendious and nearest way of establish- ing the conscience of every Christian man. and deciding every controversy which might arise, without examination, reasoning, and debate. But as the stubborn reformers would not submit to this easy and short mode of decision, the abbot was reluctantly obliged to enter the lists of argument with them. Accordingly, when Willock preached in his neighbourhood, in the beginning of 1559, he challenged him to a dispute on the sacrifice of the mass. The challenge was accepted — the time and place were fixed; but the abbot refused to appear, unless his antagonist would previously en- gage to submit to the interpretations of Scripture which had been given by the ancient doctors of the church. From this time he seems to have made the mass the great subject of his study, and endeavoured to qualify himself for defending this key- stone of the popish arch. George Hay having been sent by the general assembly to preach in Carrick and Cunningham, during the autumn of 1562, SCOTS WORTHIES. 156 Kennedy offered to dispute with him ; but no meeting took place between them. On the 30th of August, the abbot read in his chapel of Kirk Oswald, a number of articles respecting the mass, purgatory, praying to saints, the use of images, to guard the fort, and sent off 1 some to the town, with orders to go about ; in a privat way among the Burgesses, sea- men, and others, to cause them to take | armes. He left orders with them in their respective posts, and he himself marched | with a party against the enimie. To com- pass his aim with the more caution, he left a part of his men out of the town in an advantageous place, formerly fortify ed, to secure his retrait, and advanced with the most nimble, with that secrecy and diligence, that he discovered the enimies frigates sailing to and froe with their men in them landing. Having thus penetrated 1 into the plot, he withdrew to his party he had left without the town ; and having placed centinells in proper posts, to prevent surprizes, he reentered the town. By this time a thousand of the inhabitants wer in armes ; of them he picked out three hun- dred, and ordered them out to joyn their ! friends at the trenches, the remainder he thought unfitt for action, and ordered two gentlmen in whom he could confide to lead them, with the ship boyes and populace, to , the back of a mountain which looks down upon that place wher the enimy landed. These gentlmen he ordered to lye closs till he gave the signall, the second fire of his artillery, and then to draw all their com- pany in the best order they could, and! shew themselves at a distance to the Eng- lish. He had laizour enough to. put his signe in execution. The English knew litle of the country, and though six or eight hundred men wer landed, they had not stirred from the shore. By the break of day they hastned to the town, full of hopes and expecting no opposition. The Laird of Dun with his men in the trenches, gave them a terrible onsett, and their arrowes flew so quick that many of them wer over- whelmed before they knew from whence or by whom the storm was poured down. The Scots who lay in ambush, charged the enimy at this rate four or five times, till they rallyed and offered to repell the shock, the ambush retired with order and inconsider- able loss to the trenches. The English pursued with incredible speed, wher the Scots with the shot of their arrowes and fire of their arquebushes cut off a great many of the formost, and mentained their post against the remainder, without coming to hardy blowes. Thus, the Laird of Dun’s orders and dispositions wer exactly execu- ted, and now all being ready for his intend- ed project, and apprehensive that the heat of action should warm his men to an excess of forwardnes, he began insensibly to draw them behind the trenches. This he did so cunningly, that the enimies scarce perceived the insensible retiring, till they saw him retire with the last. Upon this the English pursued briskly, as he expected, and then the Laird of Dun commanded ! three feild pieces which he had brought | thither to be discharged, which by reason I of the nearnes and confusion of the enimie, j did them a worlde of mischeife. After this the Scots broke out again, with a great cry, and their swords in hand, with incredible and irresistible fury. Mean- while, the signall being given, the detach- ment which the Laird of Dun had loged on the back of the hill, made all the neighbourhood resound with shouts and j huzzas, and failed not to show themselves I as ordered at a convenient distance ; they appeared in the form of a four-square s battalion, and wer so skilfully ranked, | though their weepons wer ridiculouse, that the enemy took them to be armed accord- | ing to the French fashion and concluded I I they wer about to cut off their retreat. ! | This struck them with terrour, and made them run to the sea with the grea[te]st | disorder that fancy can represent. They I nejver] once looked back on the pursuing Scots, who chased them so eagerly, and jl made such havock among them, that of I nine hundred not one hundred gote to their I ships. The fleet putt to sea and retired, j The Laird of Dun divided the spoils of the ! vanquished among his men, and returned to the town with the glory of a victory, I I that was owing not only to valour and vigilancy, but to such a nice piece of mar- ; tiall cunning, as at once elevated the spirits of his own people, and intimidated the enimy so very much, that at last they ; broke their ranks, and tamely permitted their throats to be cut.”* * Beague’s “ History of the Campaigns, 1548 and 1549.” Edin. 1707- In the autumn of the year 1555, and shortly after Knox’s arrival from Geneva, the laird of Dun held a conference at his j lodgings in Edinburgh upon the unlawful- j ness of communion with papists. Mr Knox pointed out the sinfulness of it so forcibly, that a great secession was made from the popish meetings ; and the reform- ers resolved that so soon as a protestant minister could be procured, the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper should be administer- I ed to them according to the plan adopted j by the reformed churches abroad. Soon after this Mr Erskine left Edinburgh for his family-seat of Dun, Mr Knox quickly j following, and residing with him for about | a month, where the latter daily preached the gospel, and dispensed the sacrament to j most of the gentlemen of the county of Mearns and Angus, all engaging to oppose idolatry to the utmost. In December 1557, the parliament ! assembled, and having named eight com- j | missioners, among whom was the laird of j j Dun, to proceed to France to be present j j at the marriage of the young queen with j ; the dauphin, they set sail in February ; 1558. They returned in October follow- j ing, after a voyage of great disaster ; some j j of the commissioners having died, not with- j ! out suspicion of having been poisoned. After the martyrdom of Walter Mill, the last who suffered previous to the refor- mation, the professors of the protestant religion grew more bold, and in the sum- | mer of 1558, held their meetings for wor- j ship in public, and were countenanced by | the presence of the laird of Dun, and lord : James, prior of St Andrews, both of whom had returned safe from the embassy to France. The English queen, Mary, having died November 15th of the same year, and her sister Elizabeth, who succeeded her, being i a protestant, she gave her countenance and support to the reformers in Scotland. JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 205 The laird of Dun was one of the peti- tioners to the queen regent of Scotland, who, being chiefly guided by the popish bishops, persecuted her protestant subjects, and was strongly opposed to the spread of the principles of the reformation. The petitioners requested permission to worship God, “ according to the dictates of their own conscience,” and also desired that their ministers should be freed from obey- ing the proclamation which enjoined their attendance at Stirling the 10th day of May, 1559, under pain of rebellion. The laird of Dun being anxious for the safety of the ministers, and at the same time wishing to preserve peace, proposed to the congregation then at Perth, that he should proceed to Stirling, and endeavour to give the queen advice, contrary to that which she had received from her popish coun- sellors. The queen regent even signified her wish to have a conference with him ; but this was only used as a pretext for de- lay, till she had accomplished her design with the parliament, of vesting in the dauphin, the succession to the crown of Scotland. After some conference with the queen, who used all her wonted dissimula- tion, the laird of Dun became impressed with her sincerity, and wrote letters to the congregation, that the queen had acceded to his requests ; and that the ministers were not to be tried, but might return to their homes. At the reading of his letters, a few were disposed to put confidence in the queen regent’s promises — but the greater portion of the barons and gentle- men were of opinion that the laird of Dun had been deceived, and therefore deter- mined to remain at Perth until after the 10th of May, or until the proclamation should be withdrawn. The ministers hav- ing failed to appear, in consequence of the device of the queen regent, she immediately gave orders to put them all to the horn, for non-compearance, and likewise to punish all who should presume to assist or maintain them. The laird of Dun arrived at Perth on the evening of the 10th May, with these evil tidings, which put the con- gregation into a state of great consterna- tion; and the excitement consequent on the deceit thus practised, contributed in no small degree to the pulling down of the monuments of idolatry at St Johnston and Scoon, on the following day. But the laird of Dun and Knox were conspicuous in their endeavours to quell the ferment thus occasioned by the double-dealing of the queen and her popish advisers. In the following year, the laird of Dun was employed in conducting some of the most arduous affairs of the nation. He was j one of those appointed to sign the instruc- tions given to the Scots commissioners, j dated at Glasgow, February 10th, 1560, who went to Berwick to treat with the Duke of Norfolk, for assistance from Eng- land against the French troops, who at this time held possession of Leith. The com- missioners having acted according to their instructions, aid was sent from England, under the command of lord Gray of Wilton, who succeeded in expelling the French ;* and by the treaty of Leith, which was signed May 10th, 1560, the reformation was finally established. On the death of the queen regent, which happened in June following, a convention of the estates was held to take the affairs of the church into their consideration, and to allocate the few ministers that were among them, according to the necessities of the different parts of the country. At this time the First Book of Discipline was produced, which contained an act, ordaining ecclesi- astical superintendents. They nominated I * For an account of the siege, the curious reader is referred to “ The Siege of Leith,” in Church- 1 yard’s “ Chips concerning Scotland,” pp. 88 — 115. The author served in the English army, and was actively engaged. ; i ' ' j 206 SCOTS WORTHIES. five, agreeably to the “ First Book,” and the laird of Dun was appointed to the superintendence of Angus and Mearns. On December 10th, 1560, the first I National or General Assembly was held. The early assemblies watched strictly over the conduct of their superintendents ; and in that which was held, December 25th, 1562, it was proposed that the laird of Dun should be removed from acting as superintendent of Angus and Mearns : it was observed, that he had permitted popish priests to read in kirks within his diocese ; that young men were admitted to be ex- porters, without the necessary examina- tion laid down in the “First Book of Discipline,” — that gentlemen of vicious lives were chosen to be elders — and that sundry ministers came late to the kirk, unnecessarily detaining the people, and causing them to depart immediately after i sermon. The superintendent being called i in, tendered his resignation of the commis- sion he had received from the assembly — stating that the office was one of much difficulty and responsibility ; and, from the declining state of his health, he wished to be freed from it — at the same time, he pro- mised to do all in his power to remedy the evils complained of. The laird of Dun was chosen Moder- ator of the eleventh general assembly, | which met December 1565. Among the ! first subjects which they took up, was the conduct of the superintendents — and they entered a complaint against the moderator that his visitation was not so close as it ought to be. He admitted with his usual candour, that he had not visited the kirks for two months bypast, but alleged in vindication, that during the time, he lodged with his friends who had most need of correction and discipline — he therefore besought the assembly to provide some other for the office ; a request, which in the humility of his spirit he frequently made ; but the assembly always declined to grant his desire. Erskine was continued moderator of the next two assemblies — and towards the end of the thirteenth (December 1566), he again claimed to be “ exonered from the burdensome calling,” on account of the weak state of his health ; but they would not altogether free him from his charge, only allowing him to appoint some of the best qualified within his bounds, to visit when he found himself unable to perform the duty. Next year, he took a prominent part in the important ceremony of the coronation of James VI., which took place at Stirling, July 29th, 1567. After the assembly of 1569, a commis- sion was given to Erskine to visit the bounds of Aberdeen, and particularly the university. Here he deposed from their offices five members of king’s college, who remained obstinate in their popish faith. We do not find that they were taxed with any immorality ; but, according to the act of parliament which was passed at Edin- burgh, 24th August, 1560, their tenets rendered them unfit for the office of teach- ers of youth. On the 28th of July, 1569, the “good regent” called a convention of the estates to be held at Perth, to consider a matter of vital importance to the reformers. This was an application from lord Boyd to the regent, in name of queen Mary, backed i with letters from the English ministers of state, containing proposals for the return of the queen to Scotland. Of this con- vention the laird of Dun was member for j the town of Montrose. A circumstance is related that took place | next year, which shows that the pious life, led by the laird of Dun, was acknowledged in a remarkable way — he having had, like the prophets of old, a revelation of the death of the “good regent,” which happened at Lin- lithgow on the 23d January, 1570. The ; ■ir JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 207 | following is Wodrow’s account, as handed i down on the authority of two ministers of I the church, who at one time resided in the ' family of Dun. “ The regent was over in i Lochleven with the earl of Northumber- land, whom he had catched after the late rebellion raised by him and other papists in England was suppressed ; and had been made prisoner there about the 2d of January. He came and lodged with the superintend- ent of Angus, in the house of Dun, where they yet know the large window at the end of the old hall there, which looked out to a pleasant green. The earl of Moray, j and the laird of Dun were standing in that j window, conversing closely upon important I matters, with their faces looking towards | the green. While the regent was talking, j the superintendent suddenly looked about to him, and with the greatest sorrow and ! tears in his eyes, after he had been silent ! for some time, at length interrupted the re- I gent with these words, 4 Ah ! woes me, my ! lord, for what I perceive is to befall you | shortly, for in a fortnight’s time you will be murdered.’ Such hints of future things were not uncommon among our reformers, as I have more than once noticed. And the regent had several fore notices of his ! hazard, as well as this, and too little re- | garded them.” | After the murder of the earl of Moray, the earl of Mar was appointed regent, and | the laird of Dun entered into a correspond- ence with him, in which he showed his great zeal for the liberties of the church. His first letter, dated 10th November 1571, I appears to have been a reply to several heads or questions issued by the regent on the subject of the application of church rents to the uses of government, — on presen- tations to bishops, — and on the superseding of superintendents by bishops ; and as it | contains distinct answers to all these ques- I tions, exhibiting a view of his opinions on I these subjects, it is here given entire. “ I thought it expedient in write to let your Grace know my judgment in these articles and heads conteaned in your Grace’s last writing. As to the pension appointed before unto the Regent’s house, j as I understand, litle difficulty will be ! therin, your Grace doing your duty to the Kirk, the which I pray God your Grace may do. As to the provision of benefices, this is my judgment. All benefices of teinds, or having teinds joyned or annexed thereunto, which is taken up of the peoples labors, have the offices joined unto them ; which office is the preaching of the Evan- gell and ministration of the sacraments ; and this office is spirituall, and belongeth to the Kirk, who only hath the distribu- tion and ministration of spirituall things ; so be the Kirk spirituall offices are distri- buted, and men received and admitted therunto ; and the administration of the power is committed be the Kirk to Bishops or Superintendants, wherfor to the Bishops ! and Superintendants perteaneth the exami- | nation and admission of men to offices and Benefices of spirituall cure, whatsoever benefice it be, as well Bishopricks, Ab- bacys and Priories, as other benefices inferior. That this perteaneth by the Scriptures of God to the Bishops or Super- intendants is manifest, for the Apostle Paul writeth in the 2d to Timothy, chap. 2, ver. 2, 4 These things that thou hast heard of me, many being witness, the same deliver to faithfnll men, who shall be able to teach others.’ Here the Apostle refer- reth the examination to Timothy of the quality and ability of the persons, wher he sayeth, 4 to men able to teach others,’ and also the admonition he referreth, wher he biddeth deliver to him , the same that is able to teach others ; and in another ; place, 1 Tim. chap. 5, ver. 22, 4 Lay hands on no man sudainly, neither be partaker of j other men’s sins, keep thyself pure.’ By laying on of hands, is understood admission j to spirituall offices, which the Apostle will not that Timothy do suddenly, without just examination of their manners and doctrine. The Apostle also writing to Titus, Bishop of Crete, putteth him in remembrance of his office, which was to ! admitt, and appoint ministers in every city | and congregation ; and that he should not do the same rashly, without examination, he expresses the quality and conditions of such men as should be admitted, as at lenth is conteaned in the first chapter of I the Epistle forsaid. The deacons which | wer chosen in Jerusalem be the whole ! congregation, wer received and admitted ! by the Apostles, and that by laying on of their hands, as St Luke writeth in the 6th ! chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. This | we have expressed plainly by the Scriptures, That to the office of a Bishop perteaneth examination and admission to spirituall | cure and office, and also to oversee them that are admitted, that they walk uprightly, and also exercise their office faithfully and purely. To take this power from a Bishop I or Superintendant, is to take away the office of a Bishop, that no bishop be in the Kirk, which were to alter and abolish the order that God hath appointed in his Kirk. Ther is a spirituall power and jurisdiction I which God hath given to his Kirk, and to those who bear office therin, and ther is a i temporall jurisdiction given of God to ! kings and civil magistrates. Both the i powers are of God, and most agreing to the fortifying one another, if they be right ! used. But when the corruption of man entereth in, confounding the offices, usurp- ing to himself what he pleaseth, nothing regerding the good order appointed by God, then confusion followeth in all estates. In the first Book of the Kings, 12 chap., it is written that Jeroboam the King, in pre- sumption of his authority, made Preists in his realme, express against the order which the Lord in those dayes had appointed | i concerning the preisthood, wherupon fol- lowed [the] destruction of that king, and his seed also, as also of all other kings w T ho followed him in that wickednes. For better understanding of this matter, Christ hath given forth a rule which ought to be weighed of magistrates, and of all people, saying, ‘ Give to Caesar that pertaineth to Caesar, and to God that which pertaineth unto God.’ The Kirk of God should fortify all lawfull power and authority that pertaineth to the civil magistrat, because its the ordinance of God, but if he pass the bounds of his office, and enters the sanc- tuary of our Lord, medling with such things as appertean to the ministers of God’s Kirk, as Uzziah King of Judah, 2 Paralip. 16, entering into the temple to bum incense, the which pertained not to his office, then the servants of God should withstand his unjust interprize, as the Preists at that time did withstand the Kings of Judah, for so they are command- ed of God. The servants of God, when such wickednes occurreth, should not keep silence, flattering princes in their vain pride, but withstand and reprove them in their iniquity ; and who doth otherwise in God’s Kirk, is unworthy to bear any office. A greater offence and contempt of his Kirk can no prince do, than to set up by his own authority men in spirituall offices, as to creat Bishops and Pastors of the Kirk, for so to do is to conclude no Kirk of God to be, for the Kirk cannot be, without it have the awn proper jurisdiction | and liberty, with the ministration of such offices as God hath appointed. In speaking this of the liberty of the Kirk, I mean not ! the hurt of the King, or others in their patronages, but that they have their privi- ledges of presentation according to the j lawes, providing alwise that the examina- , tion and admission pertean only to the Kirk, of all benefices having cure of souls, j That it should not appear that the pastors : JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 209 of the Kirk, of avarice and ambition, seek to have posesion of great benefices, your Grace shall understand, that the Kirk continoually hath suited (of old as well as of new) as their articles concluded in the General Assemblys, and consented to, and subscribed by the most part of the nobility, which are to be produced, bear, and was propounded to the Queen, the King’s Majesty s mother, to wit, that whenever any of the great Benefices vake, having many Kirks joyned thereunto, that all the Kirks should be divided, and severally dis- poned to severall men, to serve every one at his own Kirk continow ; wherfor it may appear that they seek not of avarice such promotion is alledged. And I doubt not but if others of the nobility wer as well purged of avarice, and other corruption, as the ministers of the Kirk, they would have agreed to fulfill that thing which they subscribed with solemn oath. And as yet the Kirk most humbly suiteth your Grace, and councill to have the same fulfilled, but if this cannot be granted, I mean the dis- membering, as they call it, of great bene- fices, I trust, in respect of this confused troublsome time, the Kirk will consent (the benefices and offices joyned thereunto being given, after the order before spoken of, that the priviledge and liberty of the Kirk be not hurt,) to assign such profites as may be spared above the reasonable sustentation of the ministry, to the mente- nance of the authority and common affairs for the present, while further order may be tane in these matters ; for the Kirk con- tended not for worldly profite, but for that spirituall liberty which God hath given unto it, without the which be granted, the servants of God will not be satisfied, but will oppose themselves against all power and tyranny, which presumed to spoil the Kirk, of the liberty therof, and rather to dye than underly that miserable bondage. Their lives are not so dear to them as is the honour of God, and liberty of his Kirk. I hear some men bragg and boasts the poor ministers of God, to take their lives from them, but I wish such men contean themselves within bounds, for they are not sure of their own lives, and to runn that race will make it more short. Of old, the Papists called the truth heresy , and now some call the truth treason. We may perceive in all ages and times Satan wanted not his servants to impugne the truth. As to the question, If it be expe- dient for a Superintendant to be wher a qualifyed Bishop is ? I understand a Bishop and Superintendant to be but one office, and wher the one is, the other is. But having some respect to the case wher- upon the question is moved, I answer, the Superintendants that are placed, ought to continow in their offices, notwithstanding any other intruse themselves, or are placed be such as have no pow r cr in such offices. They may be called Bishops, but are no Bishops, but idols, Zach. 11. 17, saith the Prophet, and therfor the Superintendants which are called and placed by the Kirk, have office and jurisdiction, and the other Bishops, so called, have no office and jurisdiction in the Kirk of God, for they enter not by the dore, but by another way, and therefore are not pastors, as saith Christ, but thieves and robbers. I cannot but from my very heart lament that great misorder used in Stirling at the last Par- liament, in creating Bishops, planting them and giving them vote in Parliament as Bishops, in despite of the Kirk, and high contempt of God, having the Kirk opposing itself against that misorder, but they wer not heard, but boasted with threatnings ; but their boasting is not against man, but against the Eternall God, whose ordinance publickly they transgressed, what followed thereupon is knowen. God hath power to destroy and to save, he is Almighty Lord, able to preserve the innocent, and cast 2 D 210 SCOTS WORTHIES. down the pride of the mighty. I hear that some wer offended with the commissioners of the Kirk at that time, but without cause, for they passed not the bounds of their commission, and the whole Kirk will affirm their proceedings, and insist further in that matter. If that misordered creation of Bishops he not reformed, the Kirk will first complean unto God, as also to all their brethren members of the Kirk within this realme, and to all reformed Kirks within Europ. Some counsellors think now good time to conquess from the Kirk (being, as they judge, now poor and weak,) priviledges and profits to the temporall authority, but if ther wer no other parti- cular respects but the authority, I judge they would not travell so bussily ; but what respect soever they have, their unrightious conquest and spoil of the Kirk, shall not profit them, but rather be a cause to bring plagues and destruction both upon the head and counselors of such an abomina- tion. Because the servants of the Lord speak in this matter, reproving mens cor- ruptions, they are called proud, and mis- knowers of their own place, and know not with whom they deal, as though they wer gods, and yet are but flesh. Let such men understand of whatsoever state they be, that the ministers of God’s Kirk have received an office of God above them, wherunto they ought to be subject and obedient, and have received a ritcher threa- sure than they, though it be in earthen vessels, as saith the Apostle Saint Paul, 2 Cor. chap. 4. ver. 7. And have received a power of God to cast [down] and destroy the pride of men, and to bring in subjection all things that exalt themself against God, 2 Cor. 10. 5. The Lord will not that his servants in executing and using their office should fear men, how mighty and potent soever they appear to be, as it is written, Esai. 51. 7. ‘ Fear not the reproaches of men, neither be affrayed of their rebukes and threatnings, for the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm shall eat them as wool; but my righti- ousnes shall be for ever, and my salvation from generation to generation.’ The Spirit of God entering into the hearts of his servants, giveth them such a tast of his power and majesty, and a sight of his judgments, that with them the enimies of God and his Kirk are nothing regarded, but counted as dust before the wind, and as wax before the fire, unable to stand, but are to perish in the day of the Lords visi- tation. They will, according to their power, reprove all ungodlines, and withstand all iniquity ; and as to the malice and trouble raised against them by the wicked powers of the worlde to their own damnation, they will patiently endure, for there consisteth the patience of the saints, for they see a glorious end to follow thereupon. Some men in their corruption, (as their minds have declared,) purpose in time of trouble, craftily to handle the Kirk, while all their troubles be pacifyed. Let such men under- stand that such evil purposes make the trouble to continow the longer. But though the troubles wer pacifyed, and they confederat with England, France, and Spain, and all other earthly kingdomes, yet shall they not be able to destroy the Kirk of God, and liberty therof, for the mighty God who hath been a protector of his Kirk in all ages, and hath destroyed and casten down great impyres and king- domes that made battail against his Kirk, shall use the same judgments against all men that in their days intend the like ; for he beareth to his Kirk a perpetuall love and is a perpetuall protection and defence to it in this time and for ever. An admo- nition of Davids to Kings and magistrates, ‘ Be wise, 0 ! ye Kings, be learned, 0 ! ye that are Judges of the earth, serve the J Lord with fear, and rejoyce before him | with reverence. Kisse the Son lest the j JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 211 Lord be angry, and so ye perish from the kindled,’ I conclude with. Of Montrose right way, for his wrath shall be shortly the 10th of November, 1571.”* TThe Town of Montrose, 1571. J begun in your Graces hands. The poor ministers are not convict of any crimes nor offence, and yet their living is commanded to be holden from them. I perceive the Kirk to be so far despised, that no wrong can be done to it. It may appear most justly to all men, that the destruction of the Kirk and ministry is sought ; for bene- fices are given and Bishops are made at men’s pleasure, without consent of the Kirk, and the poor thing already appointed by a law to sustean the ministry, is inhi- bited to be answered. If this hath pro- ceeded for obteaning the pension assigned to the first most Godly Regent; that might have been handled otherwise more reason- * Wodrow’s Lives of the Reformers, Vol. I. pp. 36—41. The earl of Morton, at this time, was extremely urgent to have Mr Douglas presented to the see of St Andrews, that the profits of the benefice might revert thereby into his own hands ; and the pro- ceedings which took place in consequence drew a second letter from Erskine, which follows. “ I being in Perth this Wensday, having there an Assembly of the Kirk of Stor- mont and Gourie, being under my care, I received a writing from your Grace, touch- ing the convention to be in Leith of the Superintendants, the 16 of this Instant, specifying also an inhibition, that nothing should be answered to the collectors of the Kirk. It is the first inhibition given to that effect, and I wish of God it had not SCOTS WORTHIES. 212 ably : for I know the mind of the Kirk willing to have satisfied your Grace therein, and that might have been obtean- ed with a good writing. But it seemeth to me, that men intend to bring the Kirk under slavery and vile subjection ; but the Great Lord will be enimie to their pur- poses, and bring destruction upon the heads of such who so intend, of whatso- ever estate they be, and will preserve his Kirk in liberty. Perceiving such proceed- j ing, I see no cause wherefor any who bear | office should come to Leith, for their coun- I sel will not be received, neither will they I be suffered to reason freely, as experience I hath taught in times past; and the counsell I of the enemies of God and his Kirk is j followed, yet despised Israel is comforted | in the Lord, he careth for his people and ! will deliver them from the oppression of | Tyrants, and give them honour and liberty, I when their enimies shall suffer confusion | and shame. If your Grace consider the matter well, ye will call back the letters of inhibition ; if not, the Kirk will have pa- I tience, and look for help at the hands of | the Lord. The Kirk should have her own, | and not beg at men. I have staid the j Superintendant of Fyfe, while my coming ! to Saint Andrews, till we know further of your Grace’s mind by this bearer, if it be your pleasure. Perth, 14 Novembris.”* In reply to these two letters, the regent sent the following : — “ Right trustie cusine, After most hearty commendations, in place of your self, whom we have long looked for, we have received this day two letters of yours, one from Montrose the 10, and another from Perth the 14, of this moneth; conteaning other effect ^md matter than our expectation w as. In consideration of our good mean- ! . ; ing to have travelled by all possible means 1 * Wodrow’s Lives of the Reformers, vol. I., pp. | 43 , 44 . for quieting of such things as wer in con- traversy, that the ministers of the Kirk might have found some ease and repose, and we be relieved of a fashious burden that we have, in default of a certain forme accorded unto the disposition of benefices greater or smaller : our said meaning we perceive is otherwise taken, which w T e understand to proceed from other privat fountains than your own good nature; and so we will not press meikle to contend with you in write by reason of this matter, as the weight and gravity therof requireth. We have been very desirous indeed to speak to yourself, especially since we wer burthened with charge of regiment, and your own presence peradventure might have supplyed some things that your letters find fault with. But seeing matters taken as they are, that all occasion of grudge may be removed for anything done by us, we send you herewith an inhibition of the charge lately given. For as we have lived heretofore (praised be God) honourably on our own, so shall we forbear to crave the collectors, wffiile this matter be better considered of. And yet when indifferent men shall look on the words of the inhibition, the intention wherfor it is given, and for how’ short a space it should have lasted ; we trust that they shall think that it ought not to be time in such part as we see it is taken. If collectors be subjects to the king (of others we w r ill spare to speak at this time,) they might compear when they are charged, and not write in contempt, let as many charges pass as they please, they will obey none, and this we mean of such as be most emest. What the other Regents had intended to be taken up, that we shall be frustrat of, wilich yet was not the greatest occasion why w r e desired some of the Superintend- ants to be here at this time; but thir matters touched in our leter sent you. j Which albeit we sent you for privat infor- | JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 213 mation, yet being scansed, we see rather extremity meaned, to stop the helping of the matter, nor otherwise any mention of quieting or ordering things amiss, as truely our meaning it was, and is still, to procure the reforming of things disordered in all sorts, as far as may be, reteaning the privi- ledge of the King, Crown and Patronage. I The default of the whole stands in this, i that the policy of the Kirk of Scotland is not perfect, or any solid conference among godly men, that are well willed, and of judgment, how the same may be helped. And for corruption which daily encreaseth, I whensoever the circumstances of things shall be well considered by the good min- isters, who are neither bussy, nor over desirous of promotions to them and their’s, it will be found that some have been authors and procurers of things that no good policy in the Kirk can allow. Wheranent we thought to have conferred especially with yourself, and to have yeilded to you in things reasonable, and craved satisfaction of other things alike reasonable at your hands, and by your pro- curement. If ye see no cause that any who beareth office in the Kirk of God shall come to Leith, I must take patience and deferr the matter to the convention of the estates of the realme, by whom I was burdened with this office, and will make them and all the Godly in Christendom judges betwixt them bearing office in the Kirk (ye write of,) and me, whether I have not sought their satisfaction, or if they have not neglected the means and occa- sions that wer most apparent to bring quietness to the poor ministers of the Kirk. And in the meantime, I will answer no farther to the several points of your letters, but keep the same to my self, while time and better advice work effects. If ye of your self only have written, then there is one way to be considered of, if be common consent of any number of them bearing office in the Kirk, then are they to be otherwise considered, as time and place serveth. And so for this time suffering and ceasing to make longer letter, committs you to the protection of Almighty God. At Leith, this 15 of November, 1571. Your assured good Freind, John Regent.”* The assembly which met in 1576, ap- pointed commissioners for compiling the “ Second Book of Discipline,” among whom was the laird of Dun. Each commissioner had a particular point of church-govern- ment allotted to him ; and in the assembly which met in the following year, Erskine complained that there was an obscurity about that which had fallen to him, — when he was advised to confer with the other commissioners, who would assist in remov- ing his doubts. In 1579, the “ Second Book of Discipline” was presented to the assembly, and was approved of, as complete ; and such was the labour bestowed upon it, and the sound views held by the compilers, that to this day it is considered to contain a scriptural model and true representation, of what ought to be the government of a presbyterian church. The laird of Dun, though now advanced in years, was still able to attend to, and took a share in the business of the assem- blies of 1586 and 1587. With the king’s consent he was appointed to erect presby- teries in Angus and Mearns ; and, along with others, to collect all the acts of parliament in favour of the protestant religion. He did not appear at the assem- bly of 1588, and three years after, his infirmities increasing with his years, he departed this life, at his house of Dun, March 12th, 1591, in the 82d year of his age ; — leaving a numerous posterity, and a * Wodrow’s Lives of the Reformers, Vol. I. pp. 44 — 46. 214 SCOTS WORTHIES. name for virtue and honesty of principle, especially in the great cause in which he was engaged, not to be equalled in his day. Of the five persons appointed to act as superintendents, he was the last survivor, and at his death that office ceased, as the duties had fallen to be performed by means of presbyteries or elderships, as they were then called. When he was in Edinburgh, in May, 1565, it is related by Knox, that queen Mary expressed the following opinion of his character : “ That albeit she was not persuaded of the truth of any religion, hut the one in which she had been brought up, yet she would be content to hear public preaching, out of the mouths of such as pleased her; and that above all others, she would gladly hear the superintendent of Angus, Sir John Erskine, for he was a mild and sweet natured man, and of true honesty and uprightness.” He has the honour of being among the first who professed the reformation in the north of Scotland, and had a great share in promoting- its success. He was possessed of singular prudence, great generosity, liberality, and considerable learning ; he was hold and zealous — hut, above all, sin- gularly pious and religious. * * > 1 H ■ • : ROBERT ROLLOCK. Robert Rollock was horn in the year 1555, and was descended from the ancient family of the Livingstons. Discovering a talent for learning, his father, David Rol- lock, sent him to Stirling to be educated for the university under Thomas Buchanan, nephew to the author of the “ History of Scotland.” He remained under the care of this teacher till he was prepared for enter- ing the university, when he was sent to 1 the college of St Salvador, St Andrews. By his genius, modesty, and sweetness of disposition, young Rollock procured for 1 himself the particular friendship of his master, which continued till his death. He also procured in a short time the particular and favourable notice of the . . whole university ; so that when he had ■ gone through the regular course of four years’ study, which was the prescribed period in all the Scottish colleges, and taken out his degree, he was elected pro- fessor of philosophy, being then only in the twenty- third year of his age. Here he discharged the duties of his office for four years, with singular diligence and success. At this period, and long after, it was the practice, in the Scottish universities, for the same professor to conduct the studies of the same set of students through the whole course ; and, the remarkable progress of his pupils, induced the magistrates of Edin- burgh to fix upon Mr Rollock, as a fit person to open their university, which had i ROBERT ROLLOCK. 215 been founded by James VI., the previous year. This invitation Mr Rollock accepted, and entered, in the beginning of winter, 1583, with energy upon his laborious office. He was the only teacher, comprising in his own person the character of principal and professors to the infant establishment. His reputation as a teacher soon drew a number of students to that college. Hav- ing no assistant, Mr Rollock joined all his students at first into one class, but after- wards he found a division necessary ; form- ing those who had received little or no previous training, into one class, and those who were somewhat advanced, into another. At the recommendation of Mr Rollock, the patrons of the college elected a young man of the name of Duncan Nairn, a second master of the college, who under- took the charge of this first class in the month of November, 1583. Mr Nairn taught his class Latin the first year, Greek the second; there being properly no hu- manity professor in the university till a number of years afterwards. Mr Rollock was also created principal, though he still continued to teach his class. Duncan Nairn died the following year ; and the council having resolved to have three classes taught, Messrs Adam Colt and Alexander Scrimger were elected in his place. Mr Rollock continued to teach his class till the first laureation, which was public, and attended by all the nobility in town. The number graduated was forty-eight, who of course signed the national cove- nant ; for it had been introduced into the college, and tendered to every student in the year 1586. As soon as this cere- mony was concluded, Mr Rollock resigned the special care of his class, but retained the principalship, to which was now an- nexed the professorship of theology; for which, and preaching regularly on the Sabbath, he was allowed four hundred merks yearly. He prayed in public with the students every morning ; and on one day of the week explained to them some passage of Scripture, which exercise he concluded with most pertinent and prac- tical exhortations. He was particularly careful of the more advanced students, that they might enter upon the ministry pre- pared for its duties, and under a deep feeling of its sacred responsibilities. He was also a diligent and acceptable minister of the gospel. About this time he -wrote several com- mentaries on different passages of Scripture. His exposition of the Epistles to the Romans and Ephesians coming into the hands of the learned Beza, he wrote to one of his friends, telling him, that he had an incomparable treasure, which, for its judiciousness, brevity, and elegance of style, had few equals. With literary ardour and piety almost boundless, Mr Rollock’s simplicity of character disqualified him from acting either a consistent, or a profitable part in conducting the public affairs of the church, which at this period were of paramount importance, involving at once the civil and religious rights of the community. In the language of Calderwood, “ he was a godly man, but simple in the matters of the church-government; credulous, easily led by counsel, and tutored in a manner by his old master, Thomas Buchanan, who was now gained to the king’s cause.” This easy disposition was at once seen and appreciated by king James, who had now matured his plans for reducing the church to an entire dependence upon himself, and was sedulously employed in carrying them into effect. He was chosen moderator to the Assembly held at Dundee, in 1597, in which were passed several acts strongly tending to support the whole superstructure of episcopacy. He was also one of those I commissioned by the assembly to wait on SCOTS WORTHIES. 216 his majesty about seating the churches of Edinburgh.* Soon after this, Mr Rollock was seized with an illness which confined him to his house, and finally terminated his existence. His works are a commentary on some select Psalms ; on the Prophecy of Daniel; and the Gospel of John with its Harmony. He wrote also on the Epistles to the Ephesians, Colossians, Thessalonians, and Galatians ; and an analysis of the Epistles to the Romans and Hebrews, with respect to effectual calling. * So long as popery was the dominant religion, all the churches were without seats. It is certain, that previous to 1586, neither pews nor forms were used. In that year, the pulpit stones in the churches of Glasgow were ordered to be removed, and laid in ranks for the women to sit upon ; and two years later, some ash trees in the High Churchyard were ordered to be cut dow r n “to make forms for the folk to sit on in the Kirk.” In 1589, the session farther ordained, “ that no woman should sit upon or occupy the forms men should sit on, but either sit laigh, or else bring stools wi’ them.” (Hence the reason why Jenny Geddes w as so readily fur- nished with the stool which she hurled at the C Jenny Geddes’ Stool, preserved in the Hall of the Society of Scottish Antiquaries, Edinburgh.} bishop’s head in the church of Edinburgh, w’ho first “ dared to read prayers at her lug .”) In con- sequence of the vast concourse of people that then began to crowd the churches, from the compulsory edicts of the clergy, it w'as found necessary soon | after to erect galleries. The earliest account of , them upon record is in 1591. I TESTIMONY OF ROBERT ROLLOCK. Perceiving that his end was approaching he, with his wonted prudence, settled his domestic concerns, and solemnly commend- ed his wife, at that time pregnant of her first and only child, to the care of his friends. Two of these friends (Patrick Galloway and David Lindsay), who had always stood high in his regard, having come to him, he called them to witness that he professed himself to be a dying man, and as such, he implored them to go in his name to the king, and to exhort him to prosecute the path of religion in the same inoffensive course he had hitherta followed ; proceed in it with an unfaltering step till the last hour of his life, and not allow himself to be drawn from it, either by the hope of enlarging his authority, or by the evil advices of wicked men. With respect to the pastors of the church, for which he felt an equal degree of reverence, he thus spoke : “ The ministry of Christ, though in human calculation a mean and humble office, was yet glorious in the sight of God ; and though ministers are earthen vessels, the refuse and offscourings of the earth, they will hereafter shine in glorious splendour.” Afterwards, the ministers of Edinburgh having waited upon him, he discoursed to them as follows: “Wearied out with a weight' of sickness, and longing for rest and the end of my life, I continue to breathe and hope; yet I have not so learned nor preached Christ, but in him to feel support under all my distresses. The care of the college, brethren, has always stood highest in my thoughts : God is my witness with what faithfulness and diligence ROBERT ROLLOCK. 217 ' ; ! I he enabled me to look after its administra- j tion, and I am sensible to myself, you are not ignorant of the advantages that re- i dound to the church and the common- wealth from the right management of that society. The thread of my life is now breaking ; I am fast hastening to my home, my country, my Father’s house, long and much desired by me. I beg of you when I am taken away, let not the college mourn too bitterly and long, in widowhood. You, I hope, even you, my brethren, will not be stepmothers to her, but affectionate and kind parents, and nourish and cherish her in your bosom. The work of the ministry has also lain heavily on my spirit, and you are not ignorant of my motives in entering upon it. I dare not say I have ever done any thing worthy of that high office, but I dare say it was in my heart so to do. You will remember that I was chosen by the assembly at Dundee to watch for the interest of this church. In this, I had the glory of God and the safety of the church, miserably tossed with tempests and shaking, before mine eyes ; and I can now declare, that my conscience does not smite me with any wicked departure from duty, in doubling the number of the ministers of Edinburgh, and particularly in my activity to bring in two (Messrs Howat and Robertson) who studied under me, when I thought I saw gifts in them suitable to such a trust, and hoped God would bless their labours. I am so far from repenting any share I had in it, that to this hour it is satisfying to me. It was lately told me that a rumour is propagated, as if I were vexed in mind for the hand I had in this. But I can appeal to God, the witness and judge of secrets, before whose tribunal I am shortly to stand, that in all that matter, I had right and straight ends before me, accord- ing to the grace and prudence God has vouchsafed to me : and there is nothing that vexes and troubles me now. I am persuaded ‘the wise Maker of the world has j tied the church and state together, with a 1 brotherly and adamantine chain, and it hath been my great care to advance the good of both ; so that the temporal sword ! should not be perniciously drawn against the church, nor the church incited against the king and state, and that an inevitable war might be prevented. And yet the love of peace hath not so far bewitched me, that I could not distinguish between genuine and adulterous peace, neither hath my affection to my sovereign carried me that length as that, to please him, I would ! submit to the least stain on my conscience, i I hope the integrity and candour of my practice shall appear when I am dead. In ! a word, brethren, join together with the most intimate love and concord in the work of the Lord. What can be more unnatural than that the ambassadors of peace should be rending one another with strife and discord ? especially at a season ; when our enemies are busy, and our forces ought not to be scattered by strife, but by all means united, that so we may thrust not at one another, but only at our enemies’ hearts. Let me put you in mind to pay the most obsequious obedience to the king. You live in happy times, and enjoy a ! singular felicity. Yo^Pare blessed with a prince who drunk in religion with his j milk, who hath guarded your doctrine with a right discipline, and covers both the doctrine and discipline of religion with ; his protection ; who hath taken the church so much into his care, as by open and plain unanswerable documents to make it evident, that he will never desert her while he breathes. Therefore, what you j may easily and pleasantly enjoy, it will be folly to seek after by harsh methods. You will then take particular care that the church be not ruined by a fall from such high happiness. Paul might have retained j Onesimus with him, but without Philemon 2 E SCOTS WORTHIES. 218 he would do nothing, that his benefit should not be as of constraint , but willingly. It is my opinion, we should follow the apostle’s pattern in matters of far greater weight. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, enrich you with all spiritual blessings, and furnish you with all might and strength for the faithful dis- charge of your office.” Towards the evening of the same day, he appeared to feel that death was fast approaching, and fell out into a most rapturous discourse, which edified all that heard him. The physicians having at- tempted by some prescriptions to alleviate his trouble, he turned himself and said, ! “ Thou, O Lord, wilt be my Physician.” He then prayed most fervently for the pardon of sins, through the Redeemer’s merits, declaring that he counted all things dross and dung, be they ever so great, for the excellency of the cross of Christ. He then beseeched God that he would give him a comfortable and happy end to this life, that being covered under the wings of mercy, he might sleep in Christ, and enjoy the face of God, which he most violently longed to see. “ I have seen thee,” added he, “in the faint glass of the word, as through a glass darkly; allow me that long and much wished for enjoyment, of the light of thy countenance for eternity.” He then discoursed of the resurrection and eternal life, as if he were already in heaven; and taking all present by the hand, like the patriarchs of old, he blessed them, adding exhortations suited to the temper and office of each individual. Next day, the magistrates and coun- sellors of the city having waited on him, he addressed them as follows : “ As far as I can conjecture, I am going over the threshold of time, and entering into my native country, and my Father’s house. This is not uneasy to me : I have frequently longed for the end of this life. I have still been most anxious about the college ; and now when I am about to leave it, were I silent in giving my opinion about my successor to be set over it, I could scarcely be free from the stain of negli- gence. It would be of little use, in my judgment, to go abroad and bring in a stranger to preside in that society, who would know little of the doctrine and dis- cipline of this college. You have at home a person richly fitted with gifts and quali- fications for this station — Mr Henry Char- ters — who, while a scholar of mine, made vast advances in learning, and hath now for ten years filled the place of a professor of philosophy, with the greatest reputation. Place him in the principal’s place, set him at the helm of the college, and you will see God favouring him, and blessing his labours. By your office, you are patrons and cherishers of the college ; permit me to wish you may be sincerely careful of it.” When he had ended what he had said to the magistrates and masters, he spoke as follows, with reference to his spiritual state : “ I thank my God that my memory, sight, hearing, and the rest of my senses, are as perfect as ever; but my heart is loosed from this world. Lord Jesus, when wilt thou come and take full possession of my heart? Thou hast the sole claim upon it. It was my main study through my life to dedicate and consecrate it to thee. O, come and take it, that I may for ever be thine !” When he had said this, he fell into a soft rest for a little ; but on awaken- ing, he thus resumed: “ Come, Lord Jesu^J” said he, “ break the thread of this misera- ble life ! Haste, Lord, and make no tarrying; thou hast redeemed me not to ! enjoy this frail life, but life eternal. Come, ! Lord Jesus, grant that life to which thou hast redeemed me.” When some about him regretted their loss in his removal, he said, “ I have gone j j through all the stages of life. I am come j ; ROBERT ROLLOCK. 21 [) to the last step of my race — why do you hinder me ? Lord Jesus, with thy help, I will comfortably step this last step. Take me to that glory which I have seen only as through a glass. O, to be for ever with thee !” And when it was told him that the day following was the Sabbath, he exclaimed, “ Lord, may my everlasting Sabbath have its happy beginning from thy Sabbath!” From this time, he got tolerable rest till the middle of the night, when his trouble having increased, he began to expect his last struggle. Having desired Mr Balcanquall to be sent for, he addressed him thus : “ Sir, because you are the oldest minister in Edinburgh, and my friendship with you is not of late, I have sent for you, that I may show the reverence with which, from my youth, I have venerated Christ’s ministers. I have, according to the mea- sure God hath bestowed on me, been pour- ing out my prayer before the Lord — pray you now for me, and with me : I’ll join with you in heart and affection, only let me beg you’ll not ask the lengthening out of my life.” When all present had kneeled, Mr Balcanquall prayed; and having, among other things, entreated that the Lord would yet allow the enjoyment of such a valuable person, whom the church and common- wealth so much needed, Mr Bollock said, I “ I am fully weary of this life, and only desire the heavenly life which is hid in Christ with God.” When prayer was ended, he broke out | in raptures, commending the preached gospel. “ The preached word,” said he, “is life — without it none can be saved. Believe me, it is not a light matter to preach the word. It is quite another matter than to explain the text of Plato or Aristotle, or to make an oration with the paint and softness of words. The preach- ing of the word takes in sanctity, humility, and the demonstration of the Spirit.” And turning again unto prayer, he said, “ Come, Lord Jesus, break the nerves of my eyes — grant me new eyes ! I long to be dissolved, and to be with thee. Hasten to come, Lord Jesus, do not delay. — Poor life, remove! that the better, infinitely better life of God may enter in. Lay hands, Lord Jesus, on this body, arrest it, and take to thyself this soul !” After this, he lay silent till about day- break, on Sabbath morning, when he broke out in these words : “ Come, Lord, and do not tarry : I am weary with my trouble, day and night. Come, Lord Jesus, that I may come to thee. O how sweet would the end of this life be to me ! My sweet Lord, come, divorce my soul from this body, that I may enjoy thee, my husband. Separate this soul of mine from all things, that it may fly to thee, its head and centre !” Here one of the bystanders said, “ Do not Tveary, your Lord will come to whom he replied, “ Most wel- come to me is that news. I wish that to-morrow may be my funeral day.” Then another having observed, “ Happy is the soul which is so near to God as yours is ;” he said, “ In myself there is nothing which i I do not regard as dung, that I may win Christ. Christ is my only source of com- fort : all my own righteousness is as filthy rags.” Being asked whether he desired the presence of any minister, he replied, that he wished not to trouble them whilst preparing for public service. “ Allow me,” ; said he, “ like a parrot, to keep speaking with my Lord !” Being informed that the j public service had commenced, he said, “ Give me, O Lord, to see and feel the things which others are at this moment j hearing.” About mid-day, a certain person thus spoke to him : “ Throughout your whole life, with unwearied diligence and constant labour you have promoted the glory of God to which he replied, “ My j sole ground of glorying is the mercy of 220 SCOTS WORTHIES. God, through Jesus Christ : all other things I regard as loss.” After this he fell into a soft sleep, which lasted till the evening; upon awaking from which, he was visited by the lord provost of Edin- burgh, and thus addressed him : “ I have already seriously commended to the care of the magistrates, of which you, my lord, are the chief, the interests of the college : do you also take it under your protection ; let it experience in you a parent and a l benefactor. Seeing by the high station in which you preside over the city, and the august office with which God has invested you, you are able to give support to the ! church, do not, I beseech you, withdraw j such support : on the contrary, do you ■ exert your power and influence towards its protection ; apply yourself to it with the utmost vigour, that so you may attain salvation through Jesus Christ. All worldly things are perishable, and will soon perish ; but God will enrich you, your wife, and your family, out of the treasure of his goodness.” During the same night he let fall such expressions as these : “ In a diseased body I have a tran- quil mind: I am not troubled with the fear of death, of sin, or of Satan, for over me these have no power: but yet I am so borne down with a weight of sickness, that I am preserved to this hour, far beyond 1 hope. The Lord is as it were breaking me in his mortar, with the pestle of afflic- tion, that he may make me anew for his own kingdom.” On the Monday following, he thus spoke : “ It is wonderful,” said he, “ that afflicted as I am with such acute pain, my life should be so long protracted; but yet I shall wait in patience the good pleasure of the Lord : I shall bear with it, I shall bear i with it — let him do with me as seems good to him ; I shall not contend with him. j What is man, that he should contend with God? Nay, even should he thrust him into hell, he ought to be obeyed, and not opposed ! Be gracious to me, 0 Lord, for the sake of Jesus Christ. I blush not to confess, that never as during this affliction, have I arrived at such a height of divine knowledge] 0 how dreadful to fall into the hands of Jehovah ! but, for me there is mercy laid up in Christ. Why then art thou disquieted, my soul ? Why art thou cast down within me ? In a very little thou shalt have the light of his countenance, and a sweet meeting !” Again, on the morning of the following day : “ Now,” said he, reciting some of its words, “ now’ do I experience the truth of the 6th Psalm — ‘ Be gracious to me, 0 ! Lord, for I am oppressed with pain. Save ! me, 0 Lord, for my bones are sore vexed.’ ” Then, after a short pause, “ Christ shall bear my yoke, and I, upheld by his grace, shall follow in his footsteps.” When the bystanders, perceiving him convulsed with the violence of the pain, began to weep and mourn, he thus chided them : “ Weep not on my account, but weep for your sins : since no one is free' from sin, no one is ; without good cause for tears. With regard to myself, I shall ere long behold the end and conclusion of all these tilings.” To- wards evening, one of his relatives having j come to him, excited his displeasure by this j impious request ; that, when received into heaven, he would mediate in behalf of him and his other friends. Immediately on | hearing it, as if boiling with indignation, he suddenly raised up his emaciated and almost lifeless body, and said, “ I disclaim that office ; Christ is the alone Mediator.” Not long after this, he was visited by his | elder brother, whom he thus addressed: “ Do you,” said he, “ carry a reproof to our kinsman : — admonish him to adopt a j different line of conduct, otherwise there I can be no safety for him ; but on the con- j trary, inevitable destruction.” From this I time forward he refused all sustenance, JOHN CRAIG. 221 saying, “ I shall no more eat or drink, until I am translated to the kingdom of heaven.” He intrusted the care of his funeral to two intimate and long tried Mends. “ Why,” said he, “ should I not have a concern for my body, since it is yet to he glorified and made like unto Christ’s own glorious body ?” and looking to his hands. “ These very hands,” he ex- claimed, “ shall then shine with effulgent glory !” After this, his speech became gradually more constrained and difficult. His short sentences, yet impressive and powerful — breathing and savouring of hea- venly joy — by degrees gave place to a gentle slumber, in which, having continued for a while, he placidly and quietly com- mended his spirit to his Creator and Re- deemer. His death took place on the 8th i of February, 1598. JOHN CRAIG. 1 John Craig was born about the year 1512, and had the misfortune to lose his father next year at the battle of Flod- den. Notwithstanding this misfortune, he obtained a good education, and removing to England, became tutor to the children of lord Dacre. In consequence of war arising between England and Scotland, he 1 returned to his native country, and became a monk of the Dominican order. Having ! afforded some reason for a suspicion of heresy, he was cast into prison, but being acquitted, he returned to England, and endeavoured, by the influence of lord Dacre, to procure a place at Cambridge, in which, however, he was disappointed. He then travelled to France, and thence to Rome, where he was in such favour with cardinal Pole, that he obtained a place among the Dominicans of Bologna, and I was appointed to instruct the novices of 1 the cloister. Being advanced to the recto- rate, he had access to the library, where, happening to read Calvin’s “ Institutes,” he became tainted with the protestant heresy. Craig did not conceal his new views ; he was laid hold of, sent to Rome, thrown into prison, tried, and condemned to be burnt ; from which fate he was only saved by an accident. Pope Paul IV. having died the day before his intended execution, the people rose tumultuously, dragged the statue of his late holiness through the streets, and, breaking open all the prisons, set the prisoners at liberty. Craig imme- diately left the city ; and, as he was walk- ing through the suburbs, he met a com- pany of banditti, — one of whom, taking him aside, asked him if he had ever been in Bologna ? On his answering in the affirm- ative, the man inquired if he recollected, as he was one day walking there in the fields with some young noblemen, having j 222 SCOTS WORTHIES. administered relief to a poor maimed soldier, who asked him for alms ? Craig replied that he had no recollection of such an event; the bandit told him, however, that he could never forget the kindness he had received on that occasion, which he would now beg to repay by administer- ing to the present necessities of his bene- factor. In short, this man gave Craig a sufficient sum to carry him to Bologna. Craig was afraid lest some of his former acquaintances might denounce him to the inquisition; accordingly, he directed his course to Milan, avoiding all the principal roads, for fear of meeting any enemy. One day, when both his money and strength were exhausted by the journey, he came to a desert place, where he threw himself down upon the ground, and almost despair- ed of life. At this moment a dog came fawning up to him, with a bag of money in its mouth, which it laid down at his feet. The despairing traveller instantly recog- nised this as “a special token of God’s favour ;” and, picking up fresh energy, pro- ceeded on his way till he reached a village, where he obtained some refreshment. He now turned to Vienna, when, professing himself of the Dominican order, he was brought to preach before the emperor, Maximilian II., and soon became a favourite at the court of that sovereign. His fame reaching Rome, pope Pius III. sent a letter to the emperor, desiring him to be sent back as one that had been condemned for heresy. The emperor generously gave him a safe guidance out of Germany. On reaching England, about the year 1560, Craig heard of the reformation which had taken place in his native country, and offered his services to the church. He found, however, that having been for the long period of twenty-four years absent from the country, he was unfitted to preach in his vernacular tongue, and was therefore obliged for some time to make known the truth to the learned in Latin. Having partly recovered his native tongue, he was appointed next year to be the colleague of Knox, in the parish church of Edinburgh, which office he held for nine years. In 1567, the earl of Both well obtained a divorce from his lawful wife, preparatory to his marriage with queen Mary. The queen sent a letter to Mr Craig, com- manding him to publish the banns of matrimony betwixt her and Bothwell ; but on Sabbath, having declared that he had received such a command, he added, that he could not in conscience obey it, the marriage being altogether unlawful. He was immediately sent for by Bothwell, to whom he declared his reasons with great boldness. He was reproved for this con- duct at the time by the council ; but two years afterwards, it was declared by the assembly that he had acted as a faithful minister. About the year 1572, he was sent by the general assembly to preach at Mon- 1 trose, “ for the illuminating the north ; and when he had remained two years there, he was sent to Aberdeen, to illuminate those dark places in Mar, Buchan, and Aberdeen, and to teach the youth in the college there.” JOHN CRAIG. . 223 In 1579, Mr Craig being appointed minister to the king (James VI.), returned to Edinburgh, and occupied a prominent place in the general assemblies of the church. He was compiler of part of the ! : Second Book of Discipline, and the writer of the national covenant, signed in 1580 by the king and his household, which was destined in a future age to exercise so mighty an influence over the destinies of the country. In 1584, when an act of parliament was made, that all ministers, masters of colleges, &c., should, within forty-eight hours, compear and subscribe the act of parliament concerning the king’s power over all estates, spiritual and tem- poral, and submit themselves to the bishops ; Mr Craig and some others having opposed this act, were called before the council, and asked, “ How they could be so bold as to controvert the late act of parliament.” Mr Craig replied, they would find fault with anything repugnant to God’s word. At which answer the earl of Arran started to his feet, and said they were too pert ; that he would shave their heads, pare their nails, and cut their toes, and make them an example unto all who should disobey the king’s command, and his council’s orders ; and forthwith charged them to appear I before the king at Falkland, on the 4th of September following. Upon their appearance at Falkland, they were again accused of transgressing the foresaid act of Parliament, and disobeying the bishop’s injunctions, when there arose I a hot discussion between Mr Craig and the bishop of St Andrews. The earl of Arran interfered, and spoke most out- rageously against Mr Craig, who coolly replied “ that there had been as great men set up higher, who had been brought low.” Arran rejoined, “ I shall make thee of a false liar, a true prophet,” and, stooping down on his knee he said, “ now I am humbled.” Nay,” said Mr Craig, “ mock the servants as thou wilt, God will not be mocked, but shall make thee find it in earnest, when thou shalt be cast down from the high horse of thy pride, and humbled.” This came to pass a few years afterwards, when he was thrown off his horse by a spear by James Douglas of Parkhead, killed, and his corpse exposed to dogs and swine before it was buried.* Mr Craig was forthwith discharged from preaching any more in Edinburgh, and the bishop of St Andrews was appointed to preach in his place ; but as soon as he entered the great church of Edinburgh, the whole congregation, except a few court parasites, retired. It was not long till Mr Craig was restored to his place and office. On the 27th of December, 1591, when the earl of Bothwell and his accomplices came to the king and chancellor’s chamber- doors with fire, and to the queen’s with a hammer, in the palace of Holyroodhouse, with a design to seize the king and the chancellor, Mr Craig, upon the 29th, preaching before the king, upon the two brazen mountains in Zechariah, said, “ as the king had lightly regarded the many bloody shirts presented to him by his sub- jects craving justice, so God in his provi- dence had made a noise of crying, and fore- hammers, to come to his own doors.” The king would have the people to stay after sermon, that he might purge himself ; and said, “ if he had thought his hired servant (meaning Mr Craig, who was his minister,) would have dealt in that manner with I him, he should not have dealt with him so long in his house.” Mr Craig, by reason of the crowd, not hearing what he said, went away. * John Craig was a very different man from the royal chaplains of after times. He boldly opposed the proceedings of the court when he thought them opposed to the interests of religion ; and on some occasions uttered the most pointed and severe truths respecting the king, even in his presence. 224 SCOTS WORTHIES. In 1595, Mr Craig being quite worn out by his labours, and the infirmities of age, the king’s commissioner presented some articles to the general assembly; wherein, amongst other things, he craved, that, seeing Mr Craig was awaiting the hour God should please to call him, and was un- able to serve any longer, and his majesty designing to place John Duncanson, Mr Craig’s colleague, with the prince, there- ! fore, his highness desired an ordinance to be made, granting any two ministers he should choose. This was accordingly I done, and Craig died on the 4th of — December, 1600, aged eighty-eight, his life having extended through the reigns of four sovereigns. Mr Craig will appear, from these short memoirs, to have been a man of uncommon resolution and activity. He was employed in most part of the affairs of the church, during the reign of queen Mary, and in the beginning of that of her son. He compiled the National Covenant, and a catechism, commonly called Craig’s Cate- chism, which was first printed by order of ! the assembly, in 1591. DAVID BLACK. Hitherto the Scottish reformers had more especially to direct their warfare against the encroachments that had been made by the papists upon Christ’s pro- ; phetical and sacerdotal offices ; but, from 1570 downward, they were more particu- larly called upon to vindicate and defend his regal prerogative, as king and head of the church. Among the earliest of those who stood forward in defence of their Lord and Master, was David Black, to whom a conspicuous part is most pre- eminently due. Little, indeed, is known of his early history ; but this is the less to be regretted, as it is with his public life that we are more immediately concerned. Mr Black was for some time colleague to the celebrated Andrew Melville, as a minister of St Andrews. He was remark- able for zeal and fidelity in the discharge i of his duty, applying his doctrines closely j to the corruptions of the age, whether pre- vailing amongst the highest or lowest of the people. In consequence of which, he was, in 1596, cited before the council for some expressions uttered in a sermon, | alleged to strike against the king and council. But his brethren in the minis- try, thinking that by this method of pro- cedure with him, the spiritual government of the house of God was intended to be j j subverted, resolved that he should decline answering the king and council, and that in the mean time, they should be pre- : paring themselves to prove from the holy j Scriptures, that the judgment of all doc- j trine, in the first instance, belonged to the church. Accordingly, Mr Black, on the 18th November 1596, gave in a declinature to DAVID BLACK. the council, to this effect : That he was able to defend all that he had said: yet seeing his answering before them to that accusation might be prejudicial to the liberties of the church, and would be taken as an acknowledgment of his Majesty’s jurisdiction in matters merely spiritual, he i i was constrained to decline that judicatory, | 1. Because the Lord Jesus Christ had I given him his word for a rule, and that | therefore he could not fall under the civil ! law, but in so far as, after trial, he should be found to have passed from his instruc- tions, which trial belonged only to the prophets, i. e. the ministers of the church. 2. That the liberties of the church, and discipline presently exercised, were con- firmed by divers acts of parliament, and approved of by the Confession of Faith ; that the office-bearers of the church were now in the peaceable possession thereof; and that the question of his preaching ought first, according to the grounds and practices aforesaid, to be judged by the ecclesiastical senate, as the competent judges thereof in the first instance. This declinature, with a letter sent by the dif- ferent presbyteries, was in a short time subscribed by between three and four hundred ministers, all assenting to and approving of it. The commissioners of the general j assembly then sitting at Edinburgh, knowing that the king was displeased ! j at this proceeding, sent some of their number to speak with his majesty; j to whom he replied, that if Mr Black j would pass from his declinature, he would pass from the summons ; but this they would not consent to do. Upon which the king caused summon Mr Black again, on the 27th of November, to a council to be held on the 30th. This summons was given with sound of trumpet, and open proclamation, at the cross of Edin- burgh ; and the same day, the commission- —\\ 225; | ers of the assembly were ordered to depart i | thence in twenty-four hours, under pain of j j rebellion. Before the day of Mr Black’s second appearance at the council, he prepared a still more explicit declinature, especially as it respected the king’s supremacy, declar- ing, “that there are two jurisdictions in the realm, the one spiritual, and the other civil ; the one respecting the conscience, I and the other concerning external things ; j the one persuading by the spiritual sword, ! the other compelling by the temporal | sword ; the one spiritually procuring the edification of the church, the other by jus- j tice procuring the peace and quiet of the j commonwealth, which, being grounded in the light of nature, proceeds from God as j he is Creator, and is so termed by an apos- j tie,* but varying according to the constitu- tion of men ; the other above nature, grounded upon the grace of redemption, proceeding immediately from the gospel of Christ, the only king and only head of his church.t Therefore, in so far as he was one of the spiritual office-bearers, and had discharged his spiritual calling in some measure of grace and sincerity, he should not, and could not, lawfully be judged for preaching and applying the word of God, by any civil power, he being an ambassador and messenger of the Lord Jesus, having his commission from the King of kings, and all his instructions being set down and limited in the word of God, that cannot be extended or abridged by any mortal king, or emperor ; and seeing he was sent to all sorts, his commission and discharge of it should not, nor cannot, be lawfully judged by them to whom he was sent, they being sheep, not pastors, and to be judged by the word of God, and not to be the judges thereof, in a judicial way.” A decree of council was passed against # 1 Pet. ii. •} Eph. i. Col. ii. 2 f him, upon which his brethren of the com- mission directed their doctrine against the council. The king sent a message to the commissioners, signifying that he would rest satisfied with Mr Black’s simple de- claration of the truth ; but Mr Bruce and the rest replied, that if the affair concerned Mr Black alone, they should be content ; but the liberty of Christ’s kingdom had received such a wound by the proclamation of last Saturday, that if Mr Black’s life, and a dozen of others besides, had been i taken, it had not grieved the hearts of the ! behoved to be retracted, or they would | j oppose so long as they had breath. But, 1 1 after a long process, no mitigation of the I council’s severity could be obtained; for I Mr Black was charged by a macer, to j enter his person in ward, on the north of ! the Tay, there to remain on his own ex- I pense, during his majesty’s pleasure ; and i though he was next year restored to his I place at St Andrews, yet he was not suffered to continue ; for about the month of July that same year, the king and council again proceeded against him ; and he was removed to Angus, where he con- tinued till the day of his death. He had always been a severe check on the negli- gent and unfaithful part of the clergy ; but j now they had found means to get rid of j him. The situation from which he had ! been ejected was conferred upon Mr j George Gladstanes, minister of Arbirlot, I I in the county of Angus, to which charge Black was soon after inducted. After his removal to that place, he con- tinued to exercise his ministry, preaching daily to such as resorted to him, with much success, and enjoying an intimate communion with God till the day of his death. In his last sickness, the Christian tem- per of his mind was so much improved by large measures of the Spirit, that his con- versation had a remarkable effect in hum- bling the hearts and comforting the souls ; of those who attended him ; engaging them ; to take the easy yoke of Christ upon jj them. He found in his own soul also, such ' j a sensible taste of heavenly joy, that he |l was seized with a fervent desire to depart, and to be with the Lord, longing to have 1 1 the earthly house of his tabernacle dissolved, that he might be admitted into the mansions of everlasting rest. In the midst of these earnest breathings after God, the Lord was wonderfully pleased to condescend to the importunity of his ser- vant, to let him know that the time of his departure was near. Upon which he took a solemn farewell of his family and flock, J in a discourse, as Mr Melville says, that ! seemed to be spoken out of heaven, con- I ceming the misery and grief of this life, i and the inconceivable glory which is J above. The night following, after supper, hav- j ing read and prayed in his family with un- : usual continuance and fervency, he went to bed, and slept for some time. The next day being set apart for the celebra- j tion of the Lord’s Supper, he went to church, and having brought the com- munion service near a close, he felt death approaching ; and all discovering a sudden j change in his countenance, some ran to support him ; but pressing to be on his knees, with his hands and eyes lifted up to heaven, in the very act of adora- tion, as in a transport of joy, he was taken away without showing any symptoms of pain. Thus this holy man who had so faithfully maintained the interest of Christ , upon earth, breathed forth his soul in this happy manner, so that it seemed rather like a translation than a real death. I JOHN DAVIDSON. 227 JOHN DAVIDSON. John Davidson was a native of Dun- fermline, and was born, probably, about the year 1550, as he was enrolled a student of St Leonard’s college, in the university of St Andrews, in the year 1567, where he continued until 1570. He was a man of great zeal and boldness in favour of the reformed interests, and began very early to discover uncommon piety and faithfulness in the discharge of his duty. When the regent Morton, in the year 1573, obtained an order in the privy coun- cil authorizing the union of several parishes into one, Davidson, then a regent in St Leonard’s college, wrote a poem, exposing Morton’s intention in the severest terms. The poem was entitled “ Commendatioun of Uprichtnes.” M‘Crie says, “ there was nothing in the obnoxious book which could give ground of offence or alarm to any good government, being merely a temperate discussion of a measure which was at least controvertible. The evils which the act of council was calculated to produce are indeed exposed with faithfulness and spirit; but without anything disrespectful to authority, or tending in the slightest degree to excite { sedition and uproar.’ ” Ruther- ford, however, principal of St Salvador’s college, and a number of his colleagues in the university, more desirous of keeping favour with the court, than of appearing in defence of the persecuted church, showed themselves unfriendly to Davidson ; and Rutherford, conceiving that disrespectful allusions had been made to himself in the poem, wrote a reply to it. The following is the offensive passage : — “ Thair is some collages we ken, Weill foundit to uphald learnit men : Amang the rest foundit we se The teiching of theologie. Lat anis the counsell send and se Gif thir places weill gydit be ; And not abusit wi waist rudis, That dois nathing bot spendis yai gudis That was maid for that haly use And not to feid ane crusit Guse."* This production having been printed and circulated without Davidson’s knowledge, he was summoned to a justice eyre at Haddington, where sentence of imprison- ment was pronounced against him. He was, however, soon liberated on bail, in the hope that the leniency thus shown would induce him to retract what he had written, or at least that his brethren might be prevailed upon to condemn it. But the greater part of the general assembly, although of the same sentiments with Davidson, being afraid of the regent’s resentment, declined to interfere in his favour, and left him to the vengeance of * “ The Moderator enjoyned them silence, and desired Mr John Rutherford yet again to produce his book ; but he yet still refused, and said ‘ that Mr John (Davidson) had called him crused goose ! in his book, that he had little Latin in his book, ! and that was false,’ with many other brawling | words. — Mr Alexander Arbuthnot said, you take ! that to you which no man speaks against you.” — . Cald. MS. 228 SCOTS WORTHIES. the prosecutor. These expectations, then, being disappointed, and Davidson, find- ing the intercession even of some of the principal gentlemen in the country un- availing, and that nothing but a recan- tation would save him from punishment, fled to the west of Scotland, and thence into England, where he remained until ! the degradation of the regent, when he returned home. About the same time that he wrote the other poem, he also composed one to the memory of Robert Campbell of Kinzean- cleugh, a gentleman strongly attached to the reformed religion, and an unvarying and disinterested friend to our intrepid reformer. This worthy gentleman died while industriously engaged in defending Davidson from the effects of persecution ; and his virtues are commemorated in a poem by him, which, although rather defec- tive in composition, nevertheless contains many interesting notices relative to those troublous times. Being rare, and not easily attainable by most readers, it may not be foreign to our purpose to give a brief account of it in the author’s own words. The following is the title : — “ A Memorial of the life and death of two worthye Chris- tians, Robert Campbel of the Kinzean- clevgh, and his wife Elizabeth Campbel and the dedication — “ To his loving sister in Christ, Elizabeth Campbel of Kinzean- clevch.”* “ From Edinburgh the 24. of May. 1595. Your assured Friend in Christ. J. D. 1 “ Finding this little Treatise (Sister, dearelie beloved in Christ,) of late yeares ! amongst my other Papers, which I made about twentie yeares and one agoe, Imme- diatlie after the death of your godlie Parentes of good memorie, with whom I j * This lady was the heiress of these two worthy j Christians, after the decease of an only son. was most dearlie acquainted in Christ, by reason of the troble I suffered in those 1 daies for the good cause, wherin God made them chiefe comforters unto me till death separated us. As I viewed it over, and reade it before some godlie persones of late, they were most instant with me, that 1 woulde suffer it to come to light, to the stirring up of the zeale of God’s people among us, which now beginneth almost to be quenched in all estaits none excepted. So that the saying of the worthie servant of God, John Knox (among many other his forespeakings), provetli true, 4 That as the gospel entred among us and was received with fervencie and heat; so he feared it should decay and lose the former bewtie, through coldnes, and lothsomnesse, howbeit (as he saide many times,) it should not be utterlie overthrowne in Scotland, til the coming of the Lord Jesus to judg- ment, in spite of Sathan and malice of all his slaves.’ ” After eulogizing his protector’s piety, charity, lenity to his tenants, and his wis- dom and integrity in settling private differ- ences ; and his lady for encouraging him in these disinterested expeditions, instead of grudging the expense which he incurred as some wives did, he thus proceeds — But to be plainer is no skaith, Of surname they were Campbels baith : Of ancient blood of the cuntrie They w r ere baith of Genealogie : He of the Shirefs’ house of Air Long noble famous and preclair : Scho of a gude and godlie stock Came of the old house of Cesnok ; Quhais Laird of many years bygane, Professed Christ’s religion plaine. Being then minister of Libberton, near Edinburgh, he was appointed by the metropolitan presbytery to excommunicate Robert Montgomery, minister of Stirling, for contumaciously reviving a claim to the archbishopric of Glasgow, after having solemnly renounced it in the preceding JOHN DAVIDSON. 229 general assembly. This appointment he i executed with a degree of boldness which ! not a little surprised the court party * I Montgomery, it seems, had made a simoniacal purchase of the archbishopric of Glasgow from the earl of Lennox, and accordingly, in March, 1582, accom- panied by a number of soldiers, he pro- I ceeded to that city, where, finding the minister in the pulpit, he went up to him, and pulled him by the sleeve, crying out, “ Come down, sirrah !” The minister re- plied, “he was placed there by the kirk, and would give place to none who in- truded themselves without orders.” There- upon much confusion and bloodshed ensued. The presbytery of Stirling sus- pended Montgomery, and were supported in their authority by the general assem- bly ; but the earl of Lennox, not inclined to submit to this opposition, obtained a commission from the king, to try and bring the offenders to justice. Before, however, i that commission-court met, the earls of Mar and Gowrie, the master of Oliphant, young Lochleven, &c., carried the king to Ruthven castle, and there constrained him to revoke the commission, and to banish the earl of Lennox from the kingdom. But the king, having afterwards made his escape from his rebellious nobles, banished all those who had been engaged in the enter- | prise. Davidson was afterwards appointed one of the commission sent by the assem- I bly to Stirling, to remonstrate with the i king on account of this measure in favour of Montgomery. In consequence, how- * “ Davidson pronounced the sentence of depo- sition and excommunication ; and although the court threatened and stormed, it was intimated on the succeeding sabbath from the pulpits of Edin- burgh and Glasgow, and all the surrounding churches. When Lennox heard that Davidson had ventured to preach in his own church on the sabbath subsequent to the excommunication, he exclaimed, — C'est un petit diable ! — He is a little devil !” — M'Crie . ever, of the fearlessness with which he had admonished the king,* to whom the parlia- ment had given the sole power in all. causes, ecclesiastic as well as civil, and the tyrannous procedure against several of his brethren which immediately followed, Davidson found it expedient again to make his escape into England, where he remained for a considerable time. Upon his return to Scotland, when the church was enjoying internal peace, and her ministers w r ere living upon terms of amity with their brethren in the sister kingdom, employed only in removing the corruptions which had not been entirely purged away after the expulsion of the popish intruders ; nay, even when they were engaged peaceably in defending their own presbyterianism against the court and a few ambitious churchmen, who were anxiously seeking to introduce episcopacy, open hostilities were suddenly commenced by a hot-headed and aspiring zealot, doctor Bancroft, in a declamatory sermon which he preached before the parliament, and which was published immediately after. He represented the Scotch presbyterians to be puritans ; classing them with heretics, and styling them proud, ambitious, covet- ous, insubordinate, and inquisitorial ; pests to society ; and called upon all magistrates to restrain and punish them. “ If they” (the puritanical “ geese and dogs”), said he, “ will gaggle and make a noise in the day- time without any cause, I think it very fit that they should be rapt on the shinnes.” This was too much for a man of David- son’s piety and attachment to the reforma- tion to bear silently. He, therefore, by the consent of his brethren, published a “protest against the rashness of the calum- * Davidson told the king that he was present only as a private Christian, and not as president of the assembly ; and, if he would not listen to coun- sel ; then, said the reformer, t( we must crave help of Him who will hear us.” SCOTS WORTHIES. 230 niator, and the reasons of the church de- clining to enter upon a defence of their conduct,” in a small pamphlet of sixteen leaves, entitled, “ D. Bancroft’s Rashnes in rayling against the church of Scotland, noted in an Answer to a Letter of a worthy person of England, and some rea- sons rendred, why the answere thereunto jhad not hitherto come foorth.” It con- cludes — “ Farewell, from Edinburgh, the 18. of September, 1590. Yours in the Lord. J. D.” — The publication of this reply elevated him very high in the estima- tion of his brethren ; and, accordingly, we find him afterwards employed in almost every difficult emergency. The “renewal of the covenant” will render the year 1596 ever memorable in the history of the church of Scotland ; and, in effecting this, Davidson acted the prin- cipal part. His own mind had been for a long time deeply affected at the prevailing corruptions, and he felt anxious that a general reformation should be brought about as speedily as possible. With this view he laid before the presbytery of Had- dington a proposal to that effect, by whom it was transmitted to the general assembly, I at Edinburgh, in the month of March following, and unanimously approved of. This meeting was held in the Little church, on the 30th of the same month, and Da- vidson was elected moderator. On that occasion he actually seemed more than | man. His deep and humble confessions in prayer, addressed to the throne of the j Almighty, and his powerful exposure of I the defects of the church, both in doctrine ^and practice, operated so powerfully upon i the minds of the audience, that all burst into tears ;* and, with one heart, lifting up their * The passages of Scripture which on this occa- sion he read and discoursed upon, were the 33d J and 34th chapters of Ezekiel. He showed, in a very affecting manner, that the design for which they had met was to confess their sin, and firmly right hands, renewed their covenant with God, “ protesting to walk more warily in their ways, and to be more diligent in their charges.” An act of sederunt was there- after passed, enjoining the same sacred duty upon all synods and presbyteries, which was afterwards observed, in the month of October, with due solemnity. In the general assembly held at Dundee, 1598, when the king was present, it was proposed that the clergy should vote in parliament in the name of the church. Davidson, looking upon this measure as a mere device for the introduction of bishops, opposed it violently. “ Busk, busk, busk him,” he exclaimed, “as bonnily as you can, and bring him in as fairly as you will, we still see him weel enough, we can dis- cern the horns of his mitre.” He concluded by entreating the assembly not to be rash; for, “ brethren,” said he, “ see you not how readily the bishops begin to creep up.” Davidson was one of the principal speakers, in opposition to the king’s motion; and one Gladstanes in support of it. In course of the debate, Gladstanes insisted on the power which the priests had among the ancient Romans, in proposing and making the laws.; Davidson refuted the assertion, contending that they had no vote, although he allowed that they were present in the senate. “ Ah ! where do you find that ?” said the king. “ In Titus Livius,” replied Davidson. “ Oh ! are you going from the Scriptures to Titus Livius then?” retorted his majesty. James Melville, in his Diary, informs us, that on the question being called for, the king’s motion was carried by a j majority of ten votes, — “Mr Gilbert Brady leading the ring, a drunken Orkney ass, and the greater number following, all for the bodie, without respect for the spreit.” Da- resolve to forsake it. In this exercise he was evidently assisted by the Holy Spirit. After prayer, he preached from Luke xii. 22, having the same assistance given him. JOHN DAVIDSON. vidson being desired to give his vote, refused, and protested in his own name, and in the name of those who should adhere to him, and requested that his protest should be inserted in the books of assembly. Here the king interposed, and said, “ That shall not be granted ; see if you have voted and reasoned before.” “ Never, Sir,” said I Davidson, “ but without prejudice to any ; protestation made or to be made.” He then gave his protestation, which, after having been passed from oiie to another, was at last laid down before the clerk. I The king taking it up, and reading it, showed it to the moderator and others I about, and at last put it in his pocket.* | This protest and letter were the occasion | of farther trouble to him. For, in May following, he was charged to compear before the council on the 26th, and answer for the same, and was by order of the king committed prisoner to the castle of Edin- burgh ; but, on account of the infirm state i of his health, the place of his confinement was changed to his own manse. After- j wards he was allowed to perform the duties of his office in his own parish, and after discharging these for some years, du- ring which he suffered much from bad health, he died at Prestonpans, in the year 1604. This worthy and much persecuted divine possessed a considerable share of learning. Besides the poems already noticed, a little before his death he penned a treatise in Latin, De Hostibus Ecclesice, Christi (of j the enemies of Christ’s kirk), in which Row says, “ he affirmes that the erecting of bishops in this kirk is the most subtile thing to destroy religione that could ever be devised.” In 1602, he published a catechism, entitled, “ Some Helpes for young Scollers in Christianity,” which was reprinted in 1708, with a very curious preface by Mr William Jameson, professor j * See this protest, and a letter sent by him to I the assembly of 1601, in Calderwood, pp. 420 and j 450. ^Edinburgh Castle.] 232 SCOTS WORTHIES. of ecclesiastical history at Glasgow, in which he exposes the forgery of Mr Robert Calder, who, by a pretended quotation from this catechism, had attempted to propagate the falsehood that Davidson had recanted his presbyterian principles before his death. Archbishop Spottiswood, too, embraced every opportunity of speaking disrespect- fully of Davidson, particularly at the time he was prosecuted at the king’s instance ; asserting, among other calumnies, that it was his custom when brought to trouble, “ to flee away, and lurk a-while, till his peace was again made.” Davidson was a Christian hero of a very different stamp. “ It is very easy,” says our authority, “ for a time-serving priest, who, by his tame compliances can always secure himself against falling into danger, to talk thus of a man, from whose rebuke he more than once shrunk, and to accuse him of cowardice merely because he fled from the lawless rage of a despot. But it is false that Davidson either fled or concealed him- self ;” for it is satisfactorily attested by the records of the presbytery of Haddington, that he appeared, according to his citation, on the 29th of March ; and, on the 5th of April, it was farther certified to the presbytery, that he was “stayit by ane heavie fever.” He was a man of sincere piety, indefati- gable zeal in the cause of the reformation, and strongly characterized by a boldness and honesty, for which almost all the early reformers were remarkable. David- son particularly deserves notice on account of the exertions which he made for the religious and literary instruction of his parishioners in Prestonpans. At his own expense he built the church, the manse* and the school, and schoolmaster’s house. The school was erected for teaching the three learned languages, and he bequeath- ed all his heritable and moveable property for its support. He showed in some instances that he was possessed, if not of the spirit of pro- phecy, at least of a high degree of sagacity. Calderwood relates, that Davidson “ one day seeing Mr John Kerr, the minister of Prestonpans, going in a scarlet cloak like a courtier, told him to lay aside that abomi- nable dress, as he was destined to succeed him in his ministry ; which accordingly came to pass. On another occasion, when John Spottiswood, minister of Calder, and James Law, minister of Kirkliston, were called before the synod of Lothian on the charge of playing at football on Sunday, Davidson, who was acting as moderator, moved that the culprits should be deposed from their charges. The synod, however, awarded them a slighter punishment ; and when they were called in to receive their sentence, Davidson called out to them, ‘ Come in, you pretty football men, the synod ordains you only to be rebuked. Then addressing the meeting, he said, 4 And now, brethren, let me tell you what reward you shall get for your lenity : these two men shall trample on your necks, and the necks of the whole ministry of Scot- land.’ The one was afterwards archbishop of St Andrews, and the other archbishop of Glasgow. ANDREW MELVILLE. 233 ANDREW MELVILLE. This eminent saint and servant of God, inferior only to Knox in the great work of the reformation, was born at Baldovy, near Montrose, on the 1st of August, 1545. Both of his parents died when he was only two years of age ; but his elder brother Richard, to whom the estate of Baldovy fell upon the demise of his fkther, took upon himself the nurture and tuition of the subject of our memoir.* In his juvenile years, too, he was greatly indebted to the maternal tenderness • and affection of his sister-in-law, who treated him upon all occasions as one of her own children. Being of a delicate constitution, and much in the company of this amiable woman, he * The name of Melville is mentioned in Scottish charters as early as the twelfth century. The family are supposed, with great probability, to have been of Anglo-Norman lineage. Of the Melvilles of Baldovy, Richard Melville, the father of Andrew', mentions the laird of Dysart, as the chief of their branch of the family. Melville always w'rote his name Melvinus in Latin, and was there- fore often called Melvin in English. Hence some have concluded that his proper name was Melvin , and not Melville ; but without any other authority j than the above. This variety in the appellation occurs in the earliest charters granted by the family, — viz., “ Galafridus de Mailvyn" grants to the church of Dunfermline 4,; ecclesiam de Mail- vyn ,” with common pasture in “ villa de Mailvyn.” In another — “ Galfridus de Malevin grants “ eccle- siam de Malevill and in this charter occur the names of “ Willi, de Malevill ” and “ Gregorius de Malvill .” The name was anciently written in the vernacular language Melvil , Melvill, now mo- dernized into the French orthography Melville. ingratiated himself into her affections, by j his docile and obedient behaviour, to such j a degree, that after the fondest caresses, j she would frequently exclaim, “ God give ! me another lad like thee, and syne take j me to his rest.” To the end of his life he retained a grateful sense of her attentions ; I and, often, when his mind was relaxed j from the intensity of severe study, he ex- pressed a peculiar pleasure in recurring to j the domestic scenes of that happy family, i His brother, perceiving him to be a boy ! of quick understanding, resolved to culti- 1 vate his taste, and accordingly placed him under the care of Thomas Anderson, then teacher of the grammar-school of Montrose, to whom, it may be presumed, he was greatly indebted for an early knowledge of ! the doctrines of the protestant religion, as well as for having laid the foundation of that classic literature, for which he was so . . i pre-eminently distinguished in future life. I But, to his pious brother, who had em- braced the protestant faith several years before Andrew’s birth, and who afterwards became minister of the parish of Maritoun, | he chiefly owes his celebrity for his adher- ence to the principles of the reformed reli- gion, amidst all the persecutions with which he was afterwards assailed. Under the tuition of Thomas Anderson young Melville was instructed, not only in the principles of the Latin language, in which he made great proficiency ; but also in gymnastic exercises, which had the 2 g SCOTS WORTHIES. 234 happy effect of invigorating his naturally delicate frame. These exercises were chiefly, archery, golf, the art of fencing, running, leaping, wrestling, and swimming, in which every boy had his antagonist. The pupils of this very judicious teacher were also matched in their scholastic ex- ercises, who thereby kept up a spirit of emulation among those under his care ; so that it was observed of the teacher, that although by no means a profound scholar himself, he had the happy art of training the youth to excellence. At the age of eleven, young Melville, instead of going to college, was sent to study Greek under Pierre de Marsilliers, a native of France, who had been brought to Montrose by the celebrated John Er- skine of Dun, for the purpose of improving the literature of his native country. With this talented Frenchman he remained two | years, prosecuting the study of that lan- guage with the greatest eagerness. From the same person, too, he acquired a know- ledge of the French language, more correct than he could have obtained it at the grammar-school. In those days the study of this language was commonly conjoined with that of Latin ; but Greek was very little known, even by the professors in universities, until a period considerably later. After this preliminary training, so very superior to that of most of his contempo- raries, young Melville became an alumnus of the university of St Andrews, in the year 1559, and was entered in the college of St Mary. The smallness of his stature, and the delicate conformation of his body, i formed a singular contrast with his admi- I rable acquirements in literature. The I writings of Aristotle were then the only pre- lections in all our Scottish universities, which were studied and commented upon from a Latin translation ; but Melville drank from the fountain head; the language of that author being already quite familiar to him.* This superior attainment in the pupil, how- ever, gave rise to no bad feeling on the part of the professors, — on the contrary, the young student was lauded and caressed for his assiduity, and incited to farther diligence and perseverance in his career of fame. By John Douglas, who was at the time rector of the university, he was shown much marked attention. This kind gen- tleman used frequently to invite him to his house, and converse with him upon the subject of his studies ; and, so much pleas- ed was he with the shrewdness and accu- racy of his observations, that he would take him between his knees, and stroke his head, exclaiming, “ My silly, fatherless and motherless boy, it’s ill to wit what God may make of thee yet.” In the matriculation list for the year in which Melville entered college, among other celebrated names we find those of Thomas Maitlande and James Lawsone ; the former, brother of the famous secretary of that name ; and the latter, colleague and successor of the celebrated reformer. To Lawson he seems to have been particularly attached, as may very fairly be conjectured, from the circumstance of a red line being drawn under his name in the matriculation roll, which Dr Lee believes to have been done by Melville. With both of these men, however, he lived in the most amica- ble terms till the day of his death. Doubts have been expressed whether Melville took * James Melville in his Diary says, — <£ Our re- gent told me of my uncle Mr Andrew Melville, whom he knew in the time of his course in the New College to use the Greek logicks of Aristotle, which was a wonder to them, that he was so fine a scholar, and of such expectation. All that was taught of Aristotle he learned and studyed it out of the Greek text, which his masters understood not.” At the close of his academical studies he left college with the reputation of being “the best philosopher, poet, and Grecian, of any young master in the land.” ANDREW MELVILLE. 235 ; 1 his degrees at this university or not. His j nephew, James Melville, asserts that he | ; did. This, however, is not authenticated jj by the records of St Mary’s; but these |j are understood, from some circumstance 1 1 with which we are not acquainted, to be 1 1 defective about this period. I During Melville’s stay at St Andrews, George Buchanan returned from abroad ; and it has been supposed, from an expres- sion used by Melville in a poem addressed j to this celebrated man, in which he calls him “ his preceptor and master of the muses,” that he had actually studied under j Buchanan. This, however, is doubtful, | and therefore has not met with general assent. Perhaps all that is meant by the term “ preceptor” is, that as Melville him- self was passionately addicted to poetry, and wrote verses of no mean character, but considering Buchanan to be very much his superior in that art, he merely styles him so, in this respect. Sir Thomas Ran- dolph, upon more than one occasion, when j addressing Buchanan, uses the term “ my j maister,” but he does not confine these j words to him only; and therefore it is ; probable, that nothing more was intended than to convey an acknowledgment of literary superiority. So very celebrated were Melville’s lite- rary acquirements, even at this early period of his life, that they did not pass unobserved by several foreign men of letters who at that time visited Scotland. Bizzarus, an Italian poet, who then visited this country out of attachment to the reformed religion, celebrates his talents and reputation in a strain of great sublimity, in a short Latin | poem, which being altogether unintelligible j to the mere English reader, we give below in a free translation.* * “ To Andrew Melville, a native of Scotland. “ The Bee never sips on the moorland or dell, Such Hyblean sweets from the flower’s honey’d cell ; Nor was wine ever pressed from the clustering vine, With a flavour so rich as those accents of thine ; Melville, being now in his nineteenth year, resolved to complete on the continent that education to which his ardent mind aspired, and in which he found he could proceed no farther at home. With this view he sailed for France in the autumn j of 1564, and after considerable hinderances, j not unattended by danger, arrived in Paris. I Without loss of time, he recommenced his ! studies in the university of that city, having I been enrolled in the Germanic nation, | which included Scotland, England, and ! Ireland. Scaliger, Pontanus, and others, inform us that it was no unusual thing in those days to find from ten thousand to thirty thousand students in that university. It was then in a most flourishing state ; enjoying a peaceful repose between the civil wars of 1563, and 1567, which had dispersed many of its professors and students, who had taken part in the con- test ; but who were now happily restored to their former situations. Turnebus* was professor of Greek, and Melville had the good fortune to attend the last course of lectures delivered by that distinguished man. Mercerus and Quinquarboreus jointly | occupied the chair of Hebrew and Chaldee. | Under these able teachers he applied him- 1 self assiduously to the study of these lan- j | guages, of which the professors in the Scottish universities were at that time ■ ignorant. From Peter Ramus, too, pro- j fessor of “ Roman eloquence,” he acquired j ( a more acute knowledge of the Latin lan- | guage, and to him he was indebted for that happy mode of teaching which he Or the grace ©f thy manners, truth, probity, heart — With piety void of dissembling and art : These have knit thee, dear Melville, to me by a love, That time cannot alter nor distance remove.” * It has been supposed that Turnebus was of Scottish extraction, and that his proper name was Tournebceuf, or Turnbull. Dempster says he "was } of the same family as William Turnbull, bishop of Glasgow, who officiated in the cathedral from 1448 to 1454, and another writer affirms that he was of the family of the Turnbulls in Liddesdale. SCOTS WORTHIES. 236 afterwards so successfully practised in his native country. Besides Melville, almost all the greatest geniuses of that age studied under Ramus, with one of whom, regent | Moray, prior of St Andrews, we are more J immediately concerned. Besides these already mentioned, Melville received in- structions in mathematics from Paschasius Hamelius, Petrus Forcatellus, Jacobus j Carpentarius, and Joannes Scalignacus. | It is probable that he also took lessons in Hebrew from the latter, as he bore a very high reputation for his acquaintance with Jewish and Rabbinical learning, and it j appears he was one of the royal professors | of that language, at the time Melville was at Paris. He also attended the lectures of Ludovicus Duretus, who was the favourite physician of Charles IX. and Henry III. During his residence in France he became acquainted with the intrigues of the Jesuits, who about that time had opened a college, evidently for the purpose of obtaining the ascendancy in the management of the education of youth, — a circumstance which stimulated him afterwards to use all his influence to establish such a system of education in the Scottish universities, as would prevent the native youth from going abroad, where ; they would be in constant danger of being contaminated by the insidious devotees of , the church of Rome. Here, too, he devoted his attention for some time to the study of ' civil law, not with the intention of following ; out the profession, but merely that he might add this to his other acquirements, “ as connected with a complete course of educa- tion.” Indeed, so far back as 1220, pope Honorius the third had strictly prohibited , civil law from being taught at Paris, or any ] place adjacent ; and we have it upon un- I doubted authority, that this prohibition ! continued in force even so late as the six- j teenth century, and that it was only re- moved by an edict of parliament, on the 8th day of May, 1679. As there was there- j fore no regular class, Melville removed to the university of Poictiers, after a stay of two years, that he might obtain his desired object. From this period, 1566, may be dated the commencement of Melville’s public life. Although only twenty-one years of age, he had acquired such a reputation for general learning, that, immediately on his arrival at Poitiers, he was elected a professor in the college of St Marceon ; the duties of which he undertook very cheerfully ; but, without at the same time neglecting the chief intention of his visit, viz., the science of law. The period of Melville’s regency was one of great celebrity to the university. As was pretty common in those days, there happened to be at that time a rival- ship between the students of this college and that of St Pivareau, in the composition of verses. Melville was master of the art; and, as might have been expected, his pupils uniformly gained the laurel. As a public teacher, he excelled in the art of communication — a gift which compara- tively few men of letters possess ; and, as the roots of both the Latin and Greek languages were as familiar to him as his vernacular tongue, it is not to be wondered that archbishop Spottiswood said of him, j “ JRedit in patriam Andreas Melvinus bonis Uteris ecccidtus, et trium linguarum. quarum eo seculo ignorantice, ille famam et tantum non admirationem apud omnes j peperit , callentissimus”* In 1567, the civil war began to break out afresh, and learning for a time met with a serious interruption. The public classes were discontinued; but Melville * Andrew Melville revisits his country, adorned j 1 with all the elegance of polite literature — being j j profoundly skilled in the Hebrew, Greek, and | Latin languages : in this age of general ignorance, j j he has, by universal assent, merited not only high j | fame, but the nobler tribute of admiration. ANDREW MELVILLE. 237 found an asylum in the family of a coun- sellor of parliament, as tutor to his only son. The town was besieged in the follow- i ing year ; and, during the heat of the conflict, Melville, coming one day into his room, found his promising pupil bleeding profusely from the effects of a cannon ball from the besiegers’ camp, which had pierced the house, and inflicted a mortal wound. During the short interval that elapsed be- tween this and his death, the amiable youth employed his time in comforting his afflict- ed parent with the consolations of religion^ and expired in his tutor’s arms, pronoun- cing in Greek the affecting words of the Apostle — “ Master, I have finished my course !” It is related of Melville, that he never afterwards alluded to this mournful scene without shedding tears. Although he had sedulously avoided giving offence to the catholics, with whom he had daily ! intercourse, yet he was not altogether free l j from being suspected of having a bias to the protestant faith. He had been observed reading the Bible, by the officer who com- manded a small party stationed to guard the counsellor’s house ; and on an alarm being given one day that the besiegers were meditating an assault, the officer called him a Hugonot,* and even hinted at placing him under confinement. Melville became indignant, and, arming himself with all j possible expedition, took a horse from the i stable, and was preparing to mount, when j the officer requested him to stop. “ No,” replied Melville, “ I will this day show i | m yself to be as honourable and as brave a man as you.” The officer, afraid lest he might lose his commission, if his rashness j j should be reported to his superior, employ- j ed the most urgent entreaties, and ever after behaved towards Melville with the most marked respect. i * The French catholics were accustomed at this time to apply both this name and that of Christan- dins to the protestants. — Bulceus. No sooner was the siege raised, than Melville, in company with a young French- man, prepared to bid adieu to France ; and, without passports, leaving all his books behind him, except a small Hebrew Bible which he had slung in his belt, set out on foot, and by striking out new paths for themselves, they fortunately passed the Gallic frontiers without interruption. Ge- neva was the place of their destination, and it was after nightfall when they reached it. The city was strictly guarded on account of the commotions in France, and the vast numbers who daily sought admission from that disorganized country. The sentinel on duty eyed them with suspicion ; and their appearance certainly bespoke them to be in reality what the Frenchman told the guard they were — “ poor scholars from France for their joint stock did not exceed a crown. Melville, however, assured the sentinel that they had money enough to pay for what they would require ; but it was not till he produced his letters of introduction to Beza, that the gates were opened for their admission. Melville at once attracted the notice of that distin- guished scholar, who immediately recom- mended him to his colleagues, as a person well qualified to undertake the duties of professor of humanity, which chair happen- ed at the time to be vacant. He was accordingly put upon trial ; and after a long and severe examination in Virgil and Homer, he acquitted himself so entirely to the satisfaction of the examinators, that he was immediately installed. A quarter of a year’s salary was paid him in advance, which, though small, proved a very season- able relief. From the strict habits of economy which he uniformly practised, this enabled him to appear with respecta- bility, and at the same time to assist his friend until he procured a situation. It was here he acquired that accurate knowledge of oriental literature, for which 1 — _ V j; 238 SCOTS WORTHIES. he was afterwards so justly celebrated ; for whilst he strictly attended to the duties of his own class, he waited also with all the j humility of a scholar upon the instructions of such of his colleagues, as could add to his stock of literary knowledge. Under Corne- lius Bertram, a man of profound talents and general erudition, he acquired a knowledge of Syriac, which before that time had been but little known in Europe ; and with Fran- ciscus Portus, a native of Candia, he per- fected himself. So very accurate was his knowledge of this language, that upon a certain occasion, when the Cretan was expatiating with great pathos and sublimity upon the beauties of his native tongue, Melville, either from well-weighed convic- tion, or with a view to inform himself still more fully of certain idioms and peculiarities of the language, ventured to oppose some of his teacher's favourite opinions ; when Portus, piqued at what he no doubt considered illiberal interruption, exclaimed in angry sarcasm — “Vos Scoti, vos barbari , docebitis nos Grcecos pro- nunciationem nostros linguas , scilicet V* Of all the learned men in Geneva, Mel- ville felt the strongest attachment to Beza ; for, besides attending upon his public pre- i lections, he enjoyed the felicity of being at all times admitted into his private company. This attachment on the part of the learned Genevan is to be attributed not only to Melville’s splendid literary and mental endowments, but also to the undeviating adherence wdiich he at all times expressed to the ecclesiastical constitution of the land of his birth, which upon all proper occasions formed a delightful subject of conversation to the two reformers. Beza was partial to Scotland and to Scotsmen. But “the massacre of the protestants,” says Dr M‘Crie, “ which commenced at Paris on St Bartholomew’s Day, 1572, and which * You Scots, you barbarians, will teach us how to pronounce our own language, forsooth ! 1 wrought such wo to France, was the occa- sion of extending Melville’s acquaintance with the learned men of the age. Those who escaped the dagger of the murderer | took refuge in Geneva, whose gates were thrown open to receive them. One hun- dred and twenty French ministers were at one time in the city. The academy over- flowed with students, and the magistrates were unable to provide salaries for the learned men whom they were desirous to employ, or to find situations for such as were willing to teach without receiving any remuneration.” It was at this tiihe that Melville became acquainted with Scaliger, and Hottoman, and Bonnefoy, French refugees, all of whom were dis« tinguished for their talents and erudition, and all obtained public appointments. | Scaliger was considered the first scholar of the age he lived in ; and even to this day his critical authority is bowed to by the profoundest of modern linguists. It is certain that Melville studied Roman law under Hottoman, and it cannot be doubted that he also embraced the opportunity of attending Bonnefoy’s lectures on Oriental jurisprudence. Thus tutored and thus qualified, his mind was deeply impressed with uniform zeal for the liberties of his country; and upon all occasions his juvenile mind burned with indignation at the thought of papistical tyranny. And, for- tunately for his country, the time drew nigh when he was to take leave of Geneva. A Scottish gentleman with whom Melville j had been acquainted at St Andrews, | travelling as tutor to Alexander Campbell, ; bishop of Brechin, visited this city in his continental tour, and representing to Mel- j ville the distracted state of his native ! country, and the urgent solicitations of his friends that he should now return home, he immediately formed the resolution of complying with their request, and devoting to the sendee of that country — hallowed to ANDREW MELVILLE. his remembrance by every tie of kindred and early piety — the knowledge and experi- ence which he had acquired abroad. With- out delay he waited upon the superiors of the academy and his colleagues, respectfully j requesting their concurrence in resigning ! his office. To this they assented with great reluctance ; but at the same time accompanied his demission with the most flattering testimonials of esteem and regret. Beza, particularly, has perhaps passed the highest encomium that could be given of his worth, in a letter to the General As- sembly, certifying “ that Andrew Melville was equally distinguished by his piety and erudition, and that the church of Geneva could not give a stronger proof of affection to her sister church of Scotland, than by suffering herself to be bereaved of him that his native country might be enriched with his gifts.” Melville now prepared for his departure ; and it may well be imagined that his regrets were not few, at bidding adieu to a place where he had spent the happiest years of his life, in the acquisition of know- ledge, and in the enjoyment of the society of the most distinguished men of the age, for literature and piety. To these he often recurs in fancy in after life, especially in an elegiac poem to the memory of John Lindsay, a Scotsman, who died at Geneva. | He left that “ seat of genuine piety,” as he himself expresses it, in the spring of 1574, taking the route of Lyons, Franchecompte, and descending the Loire to Orleans, in company with the bishop of Brechin, and his tutor. As the latter place was strictly guarded on account of the civil war which was still raging in France, the soldier on duty accosted Melville, who was on horse- back, in consequence of having sprained his foot, with “Whence are you?” — “ From Scotland,” replied Melville. — “ O ! you Scots are all Flugonots .”- — “ Hugonots ! what’s that ? we do not know such people 239 in Scotland.” — “ You have no mass,” said i the sentinel — “vous vous n’avez pas la Messe ” — “No mess!” retorted Melville smiling ; “ our children in Scotland go to mess every day.” On their way home, Melville and his fellow-travellers visited Paris, where he was for some days engaged in a public polemical dispute with a Jesuit, the issue of which might have proved pre- judicial to him, had he not been warned by some of his friends to withdraw speedily from the city. They accordingly took their departure for London, where they remained for a short time. Melville at length reached Edinburgh, early in July, 1574, after an absence of nine years and ten months. Melville had been but a short time in the metropolis, when he was visited by ! George Buchanan, Alexander Hay, and colonel James Halybur ton, with an, offer of becoming tutor in the family of the regent. This, however, he declined, assigning as a reason, his long absence from his native country, and his desire to spend some time with his friends before he undertook any public employment. His retirement, how- ever, was of short duration. Both St Andrews and Glasgow contended for the honour of having him appointed as princi- j pal of their , universities ; but he preferred j the latter. On his way to Glasgow, he was introduced to the young king at Stirling, then only nine years of age. Here h‘e found George Buchanan engaged in writing his History of Scotland, whom he consulted regarding the plan of educa- tion he should adopt in the university over which he was called to preside. “ Such was his success,” says James Melville, “ that I dare say there was no place in Europe comparable to Glasgow for good letters during these years, for a plentiful and good cheap market of all kinds of languages, arts, and sciences ;” and such was his happy art of communication, said j 240 SCOTS WORTHIES. one of liis pupils, “ that he learned more of Mr Andrew Melville, cracking and playing, for understanding of the authors which he taught in the school, than by all his com- mentators.” By Melville’s exertions, the living of Govan, about two miles from Glasgow, valued at twenty-four chalders of grain yearly, was added to the university. M‘ Gavin says the regent Morton offered this to Melville, in addition to what he enjoyed as principal, provided he would not insist against the establishment of bishops ; but Melville rejected his offer with scorn. There is one part of Melville’s character that fitted him so admirably for the arduous duties to which he was soon to be called, that we cannot pass unnoticed ; we mean, his acute discernment of human character, and his firm persevering adherence to what he conceived to be his duty, upon all occa- sions. It may be sufficient here, to men- tion only one instance of each. John Colville, minister of Kilbride, (whether East or West is not said,) having been called before the synod to answer for dereliction of duty and deserting his min- istry, made such plausible excuses upon examination, as to satisfy all his brethren, except Melville. He was the only one who doubted Colville’s sincerity. Judging from the evasive answers he received to some rather sifting questions upon the occasion, he told his brethren that he would not be surprised to see Colville desert his ministerial profession, and re- nounce Christianity altogether ; which turned out exactly as Melville had sus- pected. He soon after, from one step to another, became an adherent of the church of Rome, and wrote bitterly against the protestant religion. “Indeed,” says M‘Crie, “ all his tergiversations, political and reli- gious, were marked by uncommon want of principle.” The other instance refers to the state of discipline then in practice in the university ; viz., that of \3orporal chas- tisement, which, although Melville himself never inflicted, he supported firmly among the regents under his superintendence. Upon one occasion, a son of lord Herries had been enticed from his studies, by the dissolute son of a wealthy citizen, and had been reported to the principal. In com- pliance with his duty, and to restrain others from similar offence, Melville caused him to be cited to appear before the whole college, and reprimanded him sharply for his misdemeanors. Instead, however, of being received with submission and peni- tence, the young gentleman became greatly irritated, and meditated revenge. With this intention, he withdrew into the city; where, having collected a band of reckless young men like himself, who were no friends to the college, they waylaid the professors and students upon a sabbath- day as they were returning from church, and Heriot, the ringleader, brandished a sword in the principal’s face, making use at the same time of the most disgusting and opprobrious epithets. Melville bore all this, says his nephew, with the utmost patience, and with difficulty restrained the students from fighting in defence of their master ; for, “ although verie hot in all [public] questions, yet when it twitched his parti- cular, no man could crab him, contrar to his common custom.” As soon as this came to the ears of lord Herries, he obliged his son to go down upon his knees in the open court of the college, and beg pardon of the principal. Melville received this with all the dignity of office, but imme- diately forgave the culprit. “ If they would have forgiveness,” said he to one of the professors upon another occasion, “ let them crave it humbly, and they shall have it ; but ere this preparative pass, that we dare not correct our scholars for fear of bangs ters and clanned gentlemen, they shall have all the blood of my body first.” ANDREW MELVILLE. 241 j Melville was satisfied in his own mind ! ! that prelacy had no foundation in Scripture — he had witnessed the happy effects of presbyterianism both in France and Gene- va, — he had taught that the words bishop and presbyter are used “ interchangeably” in the New Testament, and that those who pleaded for the divine origin of episcopacy, did so from ignorance of the language of ! Scripture ; and therefore his advice was, to strike at once at the root of the evil, and restore that equality of rank among the ministers of religion, which the court party were seeking to destroy, and which cer- tainly existed among the early pastors of the church. Being a member of the first General Assembly that had met since his appointment in the university of Glasgow, he stoutly advocated these principles. From that period he was a member of all the committees that sat from time to time, collecting materials for the book of church polity, — he had a chief share in all dispu- tations both public and private — “ And indeid ,” says James Melville, “that mater cost him exceeding great peans, bathe in mynd, body, and gear, during the space of five or sax yair, with the gean of the regent Erl of Morton and his bischopes utter indig- nation. Yit with the wonderful assistance of God, he bure it out till the abolishing of bischopes and establishing of the presby- teries according to the word of God, wharby he gatt the name of the slinger out of bischops.” That Melville was at any time violent and overbearing, as has been alleged by his enemies, is totally without evidence. Cool argument, and calm but firm persuasion, were the only weapons he used ; but these were most effective, — indeed, the whole of the proceedings of the Assembly were characterized by a delibera- tive wisdom, calmness of temper, and una- nimity, that both astonished and greatly disappointed their enemies. In 1577, Melville and other seven were nominated by the assembly, at the request i of the regent, to attend a convocation of protestants at Magdeburgh, for establishing the Augsburg Confession; but for reasons best known to himself, the matter dropped, although frequently urged to it by the Assembly. Finding that he could not by any art gain over Melville to his party, the regent attempted to intimidate him by accusing him as a disturber of the peace, and threatened to proceed against him accordingly ; but our reformer was not to be so overawed. Not satisfied with the proceedings of the Assembly at the time, he sent for Melville to his chamber one day, and after addressing him for some time on the propriety of preserving the peace of the church and kingdom, and saying that there never would be quietness in the kingdom till half-a-dozen of them were either hanged or banished the country, — Melville replied, “ Tush, sir ; threaten your courtiers after this manner. It is the same to me whether I rot in the air or in the ground. The earth is the Lord’s. I have been ready to give my life where it could not be so well wared, at the pleasure of my God. I have lived out of your country for ten years, as j well as in it. Let God be glorified : it will not be in your power either to hang or exile Llis truth.” In reference to this and j similar castigations that he was wont to hear from the lips of Morton, his nephew writes — “ Manie siclyke has he heard, and far mae reported in mair ferfull form ; but for all he never jarged a jot ather frae the substance of the cause, or forme of pro- ceding tharin.” The high state of learning and discipline to which the university of Glasgow had now been raised, and the comparatively low grade of education in the other colleges, became an object of public notoriety, and consequently j measures were taken for reforming and new-modelling the same. A new theolo- gical college was agreed upon for St An- 2 H - 1 242 SCOTS WORTHIES. drews ; and it was resolved to translate Melville thither, and to install Smeton in his room. Melville entered upon his charge at St Andrews in December, 1580, and the per- sons appointed by the General Assembly to attend him were Sir Andrew Ker of Tandonside, the lairds of Braid and Lun- die, with James Lawson and John Dury, says Dr M‘Crie; and Calderwood adds, Mr Robert Pont, and William Christieson. Although he was permitted to take with him from Glasgow what teachers soever he thought fit, yet being unwilling to deprive that flourishing university of any of its ornaments, he was content with taking his nephew only, the celebrated James Melville, whose preceptor he himself had been. He appointed him professor of oriental lan- guages. His own lectures here excited universal admiration, and were attended by even some of the professors, who, though teachers themselves, were not ashamed to receive instruction from this justly cele- brated man. But, enough we should sup- pose has already been said to establish the literary reputation of Melville, and there- fore our attention shall now be exclusively directed to the active part he took in the affairs of the church, and the sufferings he underwent in bringing about the great work of the reformation. In the Assembly which met at St An- drews, in 1582, Melville was chosen mode- rator, and preached the opening sermon from 1 Tim. iv. 10 — ■“ For therefore we both labour and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Saviour of all men, specially of those who believe.” In his discourse, he censured in strong terms the absolute authority which was stealing into the church, and pointedly named Beaton and Leslie, as the principal agents in the matter, saying — “ I know this will be called interfering with civil affairs ; but these things tend to the wreck of religion, and therefore I rehearse them.” Among other things, the assembly drew up a statement of their grievances, to be laid before the king, and Melville was one of a deputation appointed to present the same to his majesty, who was at the time living at Perth. His nephew had been pre- monished to advise his uncle not to appear, [View of the Town of Perth, 1580-3 ANDREW MELVILLE. 243 as Lennox and Arran were enraged at the obstacles he had thrown in their way for the prevention of their schemes ; but when the young man informed him of the mes- sage, and at the same time entreated him not to make light of the friendly premoni- tion, Melville replied — “ I am not afraid, thank God ; nor feeble-spirited in the cause and message of Christ, — come what God pleases to send, our commission shall be executed.” The deputation having been admitted to the king and council, presented their grievances, craving redress; which, after having been read, the earl of Arran, looking round the assembly with a stem countenance, cried aloud in a tone of defiance, “ Who dare subscribe these trea- sonable articles?” — “ We dare,” said Melville, stepping forward to the table, “ and will render our lives for it ;” and then, taking the pen from the clerk’s hand, subscribed his name before the whole audience. Arran was thunderstruck and humbled ; and Lennox became mild as a lamb ; telling the commissioners they were at liberty to depart. Melville, besides his academical duties, preached frequently in vacant pulpits, and for some time he and his nephew divided the labours of the sabbath between them, in one of the churches, where, through the profligacy of the times, no stipend could be obtained for the minister. For this reason, the church was without a stated preacher for three years ; and, upon one occasion, Melville, being in the pulpit, inveighed loudly against the conduct of those who hindered the settlement of a minister. “ Galled by his reproofs,” says Dr M‘Crie, “ the provost rose one day from his seat in the middle of the sermon, and left the church, muttering his dissatisfaction with the preacher. Placards were affixed to the new college gate, threatening to set fire to the principal’s lodging, to bastinade him, and chase him out of the town.” Melville remained quite at ease amidst the general alarm for his safety, and summoned the provost to appear before the presbytery, to answer for his behaviour in church, and for contempt of divine ordinances. Nothing could deter him from his duty ; and where- ever he found vice to exist, there he ex- posed it. The writer of one of the placards was pretty surely known from some of the foreign phrases which it contained; and this the preacher one day produced before the congregation, at the close of his dis- course. The suspected writer was sitting before him, whom Melville characterized as “a Frenchified, Italianized, jolly gentle- man, who had polluted many marriage- beds, and who now boasted that he would pollute the church of God, by bastinading his servants.” Melville’s boldness upon this and some former occasions had created him a number of enemies, who lost no oppor- tunity of prepossessing the royal ear against him ; the consequence of which was, that he was summoned to appear before the privy council on the 15th day of February following, to answer for “ certain treason- able and seditious expressions uttered by him in the pulpit, when preaching on a fast day which had been kept in the pre- ceding month. Not in the least intimidated, Melville obeyed the citation with the utmost consci- ousness of innocence, and answered to the charge ; solemnly protesting, that nei- ther in that sermon, nor upon any other occasion, had he ever spoken disrespectfully of his majesty. To this effect he had been furnished with attestations by the university, the town-council, the kirk session, and the presbytery of St Andrews. The court, however, set aside all these, and determined to proceed with the trial. As a matter of justice, Melville requested that his trial should be remitted to the ecclesiastical courts, according to the word of God and the laws of the realm — that he should be 244 SCOTS WORTHIES. tried at St Andrews where the offence was alleged to have been committed — that he should at least be allowed to submit his cause to the judgment of the rector and professors of the university — that he should enjoy the benefit of the apostolic injunction, “ against an elder receive not an accusa- tion, but before two or three witnesses” — that he should be confronted with his ac- cuser ; and, if the charges brought against him turned out false, that he should have re- dress for the calumnies. Having stated these objections, the council delayed farther pro- cedure till the day following. In the mean time, suspecting that none of his objections would be attended to, he drew up a written protest against the proceedings of council, and appeared next day, attended by com- missioners from the university and presby- tery, each determined to plead for then- respective rights ; but both were denied admission. Prepared for what he rightly conjectured would be the issue, he gave in his protest, — the reading of wdiich threw the king and Arran into such a violent fit of passion, as to alarm those w r ho were waiting without for the decision. Melville’s spirit rose wfith the emergency, — and, boldly defending his procedure, he unslung his small Hebrew Bible wdiich he always carried suspended from his girdle, throwing it down upon the table, saying — “ These are my instructions and authority ; see if you can show me that I have acted con- trary to my injunctions !” The chancellor took up the book, and, observing that it was in a language of which he w r as ignorant, said to his majesty — “ Sire, he scorns your majesty and the council !” — “ I scorn not, my lords ; but I am earnest and zealous for the cause of Christ and his church !” — Every art was used to induce him to with- draw his protest ; but this he peremptorily refused. Judgment was therefore passed upon him for having declined the compe- j tency of the council, and for behaving “irreverently” in their presence; and he was sentenced to be imprisoned in Edin- j burgh castle during the king’s pleasure. The place of his confinement was after- wards commuted for Blackness, a solitary and damp fortress in the county of Linlith- gow, on the southern banks of the Forth, kept by one of the chancellor’s underlings. Melville’s friends were now at a loss what to advise. All seemed perplexed but j himself, and he therefore laid his plans in such a way that his real intentions were entirely concealed. He made preparations for his departure wfith all expedition, and dined with a party of ministers in Edinburgh, desiring them, wfith great apparent cheer- fulness, to prepare to follow him, and even drank to the health of his captain, as he jocularly styled the keeper of Blackness. He desired the macer to be brought in, and, with a seeming air of satisfaction, received j from him the summons to enter himself at Blackness within twenty-four hours. Soon ; after, having been joined by one of his ; brothers, he withdrew for a little by per- mission, and, having spent the night in the vicinity of the city, he reached Berwick next day in safety, to the sad disappointment of ! Arran, who was in waiting with a troop of horse, to honour him with an equestrian convoy to his place of confinement. His absence in England turned out afterwards to be of great benefit to the j suffering church at home. Being beyond ' the reach of his enemies, he could watch the proceedings of the court, and its em- issaries, — one of wfiiom, Patrick Adamson, a vacillating, unprincipled creature, began now to show his craftiness. The political atmosphere w^as beginning to darken, and it was evident that the storm would ere long 1 burst wfith awfiul vengeance. Adamson j had represented to the French presbyterian | ministers in London, and to the churches 1 in Geneva and Zurich, the principles and .! behaviour of his brethren in a very false j ANDREW MELVILLE. 245 and odious light ; but, fortunately, Melville had obtained copies of these letters, and with- out delay he wrote and contradicted Adam- son’s statements. It is not difficult to see that by these means Adamson thought to obtain such a concurrence from the foreign churches, as might at least form a plausible pretext for the part he was acting. This, however, he did not obtain. Even his re- sidence at London did not favour the cause he was sent to promote. Upon his return, however, an act was passed by the Scottish parliament, overthrowing presby- tery, suppressing the General Assembly, and consigning the whole ecclesiastical government to the will of the king, without whose permission no Assembly could be held. Not a few of the faithful ministers were cast into prison for their resistance ; many of them gave up their livings, and withdrew to England ; and, as might have been expected, a number succumbed to the reigning power, and submitted to episcopal ordination. At this time Melville wrote a re- ply to a “ Vindication of the Scottish Court,” artfully drawn up by Adamson, impugning the banished lords, and inveighing against the proceedings of the church. Melville did not escape his own share of abuse. In July, 1584, Angus, Mar, and the master of Glammis, wrote to Melville to meet them at Newcastle, along with James Lawson, to consult about matters too weighty for their own deliberation ; but being absent from London at the time, the meeting did not take place. This, however, was the less to be regretted, as matters were beginning to assume a different aspect at home. The nation was discontented — the principal courtiers were disgusted at Arran’s lordly usurpation and arrogance — and the king himself began to feel uneasy. The exiled lords applied to Elizabeth for permission to depart, which having been obtained, the people from all quarters flocked to their standard as soon as they set foot in Scotland ; and, upon their arrival at Stirling, the army by which they were ac- companied had such an imposing effect, that Arran consulted his safety by flight. After mutual explanation, the king came down from the castle, and the lords, having laid down their arms, were immediately reinstated in power and favour. Melville, anxious to lend his talents once more to his suffering countrymen, accompanied the banished nobles, and returned to his native country, in November, 1585, having been absent twenty months. Melville’s first object after his return was to attempt the restoration of the church’s liberties, and to bring about the abrogation of the black acts , as they were called ; but he met with strenuous opposition, even from quarters where he least expected it. The exiled lords having regained their tempor- alities bestirred themselves but very slovenly in the cause, and the king there- fore, emboldened by their imbecility, de- clared that he would resist any alteration of the existing ecclesiastical law, as in- terfering with his personal prerogative, which he would maintain at all hazards ; and this the cowardly nobles, in violation of their former good faith, took no steps to oppose. A deputation of ministers was therefore nominated to confer with the nobility, and to urge the fulfilment of their promises ; but, although entreaties, expos- tulations, nay threats, were employed, it was of no avail. The king’s determination not to part with his (usurped) prerogative, served as an objection to every point. There was therefore no hope but to apply to James himself. Their reception was far from being courteous ; and in the course of the interview, they were shocked at the iteration of language, by which they had been frequently before assailed by Lennox and Arran, — “language,” says Dr M‘Crie, “ not more disrespectful to them, than in- decorous from the mouth of a king.” 246 SCOTS WORTHIES. Melville urged his suit with his wonted firmness, and spoke in such plain terms as were not altogether agreeable to the ear of royalty. The king, however, relaxed so far as to require them to write out their objections to the existing law. To these the king gave his own interpretation, add- ing, that it should be as authentic as an act of parliament. Nothing farther could be obtained at the time, than that all min- isters and masters of colleges were at liberty to return to their places and pro- fessions ; but, on the other hand, an act had just passed through parliament, doom- ing to death, — “ to be executed with the utmost rigour” — all who should publicly or privately “speak to the reproach of his majesty’s person or government, or mis- construe his proceedings,” — prohibiting at the same time, “ all leagues or hands among the subjects, without his majesty’s privity and consent, under whatever pre- text they should be made.” Adamson, too, laboured incessantly to keep the breach open, and to incense his majesty still more against Melville. Discoursing one day with the king upon the subject, says Cal- derwood, he exclaimed, “ By the Lord God, Sire, (for the bishop did not scruple to encourage his majesty in his profane habit of swearing!) had that enemy to lawful authority remained another half-year, he had pulled the crown off your head by his seditious doctrine — for he taught that kings should come by election, as the multitude pleased to put them up or down.” Adam- son was excommunicated by the General Assembly for his double dealing; and he in his turn drew up an excommunication of Melville and other ministers, which he caused to be read publicly, — at the same | time preferring a complaint to the king and parliament. Melville was now for a time laid under civil restraint, and ordered to confine himself to the north side of the Tay ; hut at the solicitation of the univer- sity of St Andrews — aided however by the secret influence of a minion of majesty — ! Melville was commanded to wait upon the king at Falkland, where his majesty! generally spent the summer. Having been ! introduced into the royal presence, he was, after mutual explanations, restored to fa- vour, and ordered to resume his duties in the university. Melville’s re-admission to favour now induced the General Assembly to choose him their moderator in the Assembly which met in June, 1587, and also to nominate j him their commissioner to the approaching parliament. In virtue of his office as mod- erator, he was at that time of signal service, not only to the church but to the nation, i The kingdom was in a state of alarm at the threatened invasion of the Spanish Armada, and the king was amusing himself, in writing a commentary upon the hook of Revelation, to prove that the Pope was Antichrist, the man of sin — the Jesuits and priests were corresponding with the Pope, and instigating the people to a revolt, in the event of the enemy effecting a land- ing ; and a general massacre of the protest- ants was to have summed up the catas- trophe. Under these circumstances, Mel- ville felt himself warranted to summon a pro re nata meeting of Assembly, early in the following year, which he opened -with a brilliant address, in which he laid before them his reasons for calling the meeting. All were unanimous in providing against the threatened danger, and made an offer of their lives and fortunes, in defence of the country, and Melville was appointed to lay the same before the king. The pro- vidential dispersion of that formidable fleet is known to all, and, fortunately no sacri- fices were required. This, however, had not the effect of silencing the restless and turbulent spirit of the papists. Bent upon supremacy, they busied themselves in fomenting a new conspiracy, and even j ANDREW MELVILLE. wrote to the Spanish government to send an army direct to Scotland, as the sure way of obtaining possession of England. Melville was again at his post. Having called another meeting of Assembly, he j was re-elected moderator, in which, assisted by Thomas Craig and other distinguished lawyers, such measures were adopted as enabled the government to frustrate the intentions of the insurrectionists, by the discovery of their correspondence. The ecclesiastical horizon now began to brighten, in consequence of the united efforts of Melville, Chancellor Maitland, and Robert Bruce, using their influence with the king to retrace his steps. James, although sorely importuned by the enemies of presbyterianism, yet conceiving a high opinion of the talent, integrity, and prudence, of the three reformers, lent a favourable ear to their admonitions. Bruce had par- ticularly gained upon the king’s good opinion, and he acted in all things in perfect har- mony with Melville. During the king’s absence in Denmark, on the occasion of his marriage, he declared that he had more faith in Bruce’s preserving public tranquillity, than in the whole of his nobility ; and, upon his return he found it to be exactly as he had predicted. By special invitation Melville was pre- sent at the coronation of the queen, on the 17th of May, 1590 ; and immediately after the crown was placed upon her head, he pro- nounced a Latin poem which he had com- posed for the occasion, although he did not know that he was expected until two days before the ceremony. James was so much delighted both with the composition and the manner in which it was recited, that he publicly thanked the author, — saying, “ that he had that day done him and the country such honour as he never could requite and at the same time gave orders that the poem should be immediately printed. The title of the poem is Steph- 247 J aniskion, a copy of which the learned reader will find in Delicice Poetarum Scotorum, tom. 2. pp. 71 — 76. Of this poem, Lipsius, after he had read it, ex- claimed — Pevera Andreas Melvinus est serio doctus ; and Scaliger, in a letter to the author, wrote, Nos talia nonpossumus * James, however, soon forgot his fair pro- mises ; and the silly vacillating monarch allowed himself to be swayed by the party at court. The indifference which both king and courtiers showed to the murder of the Earl of Moray had given great offence to the reformers, and therefore Melville and others were commissioned to wait upon the king, and remonstrate with him for allowing such barbarity to pass unpunished. The freedom with which the deputation opened their minds upon the subject was far from being satisfactory to the king, and he testified his displeasure in terms the reverse of being pacific. Melville defended himself and his party with con- siderable warmth ; and, upon being inter- rupted by the chancellor, who did not feel altogether at ease in the conversation, he | replied, “ that on such a theme he would not be silenced by him or any indi- vidual beneath his majesty.” The king said that Moray, Knox, and Buchanan, could be defended only by seditious and traitorous theologues. Melville replied, that they were the men who had set the crown upon his head, and therefore deserved better treatment. His majesty said that his crown came to him by succession, and was not given to him by any man. “ But they were the instruments (replied Mel- ville) ; and whosoever informs your majesty sinistrously of these men, neither loves you nor the commonwealth.” To such a pitch of excitement had the popular indig- nation now risen, in consequence of the assassination of the earl of Moray, that" * “ In fact, Andrew Melville is an admirable scholar.” — “ I could not do the like!” SCOTS WORTHIES. 248 they did not hesitate to accuse both James and his courtiers as having been accessory to the murder. Foreseeing, therefore, that | nothing would allay the ferment but a timely compliance with the wishes of the reformers, the royal assent was given to an act ratifying presbytery, as “ most just, | good, and lawful and proclamation was | made accordingly at the market cross of Edinburgh, to that effect. After a painful but unflinching struggle,for nearly eighteen years, Melville was at length gratified with the completion of his wishes, sanctioned by j the state, as well as by the church. Mel- ville now resumed his academical labours with a placidity of mind to which he had long been a stranger. In 1590, he was elected rector of the university, in room of the venerable James Wilkie, principal of St Leonard’s college ; ! and in this new situation he conducted ! himself with that firmness, decision, and prudence, as supreme, which had formerly characterized him, when subordinate. For several years he acted as ruling elder, and exerted himself to the utmost, in filling up the kirk session, with men of piety, talent, and influence. In those days the office of elder was attended with much labour and personal inconvenience. Besides giving attendance upon the weekly meetings of session, they had to assist the minister in examining the congregation before the communions, take cognizance of profane swearers, sabbath-breakers, violators of the t fifth commandment, intemperate persons, i slanderers, backbiters, as well as trespassers | of the laws of chastity ; and, in all these our reformer showed himself ever alive to the glory of God, and the purity of the church. One of his chief objects was to see that vacant parishes were supplied with proper ministers. Previous to this period, the deficiency had been very great ; for when Melville came first to St Andrews, there were only five members of presbytery; and now the number had increased to sixteen. Among these were David Black and Robert Wallace, two of the most faithful and laborious ministers of any age. The affairs of the kingdom were still in a very disorderly state ; James was still the same babyish creature as formerly ; — still in leading strings, — and the papists taking advantage of his imbecility, were in correspondence with the king of Spain, to land thirty thousand men in Scotland, for the purpose of invading England. James himself was strongly suspected of being in the plot ; and, upon the authority of Cal- derwood, we mention, that upon the dis- covery of the conspiracy, by the interception of letters, one of them was suppressed j because it “ touched the king with know- ledge and approbation of the traffiquing, and promise of assistance.” And, indeed, his majesty’s subsequent conduct tended greatly to strengthen the suspicion. It was well known that his mind was secretly addicted to popery ; and therefore he found great fault with the presbyterian ministers for meeting to devise measures for counter- acting the plot. They, however, defended themselves with spirit, and told the king that it was not expedient to stand upon ' forms, when they saw his person, the church, and the nation in danger. James was soon pacified, and testified his sense of their loyalty, by requesting them to assist his council with their best advice. The mea- | sures which they found necessary to adopt, in the mean time, were not, however, altogether to the king’s mind ; for, the first step which they deemed it advisable to adopt, was, to excommunicate the popish ! lords ; and this he tried every method to counteract. Melville fell particularly under the royal displeasure for the part he had taken in the affair ; but at a convention of I estates which was held at Linlithgow, in . | October, 1593, he told the king his senti- ! ments very freely, — boldly reproving him ! i ANDREW MELVILLE. 249 for the manner in which he had spoken of the principal agents in bringing about the reformation, and the partiality he had shown to the avowed enemies of both his own throne and the church, — challenging, at the same time, his advisers to stand forward and not dissemble, and he would prove them traitors to the crown and king- dom of Scotland — failing which he would go to the gibbet. In the General Assembly which was held in May, 1594, Melville was again placed in the moderator’s chair. The sentence of excommunication which the synod of Fife had passed against the popish lords was unanimously confirmed and ratified, upon the grounds that they had refused to take the benefit of the act of abolition, and were still in arms, persevering in their corre- spondence with the Spanish government. At this assembly the king and the ministers came to a better understanding than at any time before ; and they enjoined all its members to beware of uttering from the pulpit any rash or irreverent speeches against the king and his council. Never- theless the popish lords continued still un- awed ; they were in a state of open rebel- lion ; and, for all that had been said and done, they found not a few friends in the parliament which was held in the month of June. Melville was again at his post ; and, in presence of the lords of articles, insisted upon speedy measures being adopt- ed against the leading conspirators, in order to secure the safety of religion, and the tranquillity of the kingdom ; and, so powerful was the influence which his speech had upon the assembly, that the majority of the lords of articles consented to the forfeiture of Huntly, Angus, and Errol, and their decision was ratified by parlia- ment. Melville was now, at the express request of the king, called to accompany him in an expedition to the north, against the rebels, who felt inclined to take the com- mand upon himself, after the defeat of the earl of Argyle by lord Glenlivet; and fortunate it was that he thought of taking Melville with him ; for the measures which he recommended were the means of bringing about tranquillity. Finding that they were to be hard pressed, the rebels had retreated | within their mountain fastnesses ; and thus j the king’s troops began to be dispirited at the prospect of a tedious campaign, which became so much the more grievous, as they had been some time without pay. In these circumstances, his majesty was advised not j to proceed to extremities against the in- surgents ; but Melville counselled otherwise, and the king thought it would be expedient to listen to his admonition. Orders were therefore given for the immediate demolition of the castle of Strathbogie, and the princi- pal seats of those who had taken part with him. This had the desired effect, and the discontented noblemen soon after left the kingdom. Melville’s disinterested friendship and strong attachment to David Black, one of the ministers of St Andrews, whose name we have already introduced, had very nearly involved him in serious difficulties. In consequence of a lawsuit which Black had seen it necessary to raise for the cause of public justice against a person of the name of Burley, the latter, fearing that he would be nonsuited, laid a complaint before the court, that Mr Black, in his sermons, had spoken disrespectfully of the late queen, and at the same time accused Melville of aiding and abetting him in the use of such language. Black was accordingly called before a meeting of the privy council and a few select ministers, where, upon being interrogated, he declared his willingness to give an account of his sermons before a proper tribunal ; but begged to decline giving any explanation before that court, which he said was neither ecclesiastical nor 2 i 250 SCOTS WORTHIES. civil. These objections, however, were overruled, and the examination of proof was proceeding, when Melville, suspecting what was going on, knocked at the door for entrance and was admitted. Like his precursor Knox, who “ feared not the face of man,” he craved permission to be heard upon a point of the most serious import- ance. Liberty having been granted, he fearlessly told his majesty, that although he was king of Scotland, he was not king of the church, and therefore the present court had no right to try the cause which had been brought before them. But if he had any cause of judicature here, it ought rather to be to try the traitor Burley, than to interfere with the faithful servants of the Lord Jesus, the King of the church, in the execution of their duty. Turning to Burley and pointing to him, he then told the king, that he had been repeatedly guilty of trea- son against the government, by taking his majesty’s peaceable subjects out of their houses in the night time, and harbouring in his own house the king’s rebels and enemies. Burley, trembling for fear, fell on his knees, and cried out for justice. “ Justice,” exclaimed Melville, — “ would to God you had it ! You would not be then here to bring a judgment from Christ upon the king, and thus falsely and unjustly to vex the faithful servants of God !” Moved at what he considered unwarranted presump- tion in Melville, the king attempted to silence him ; but our reformer was not to be so overawed; wherefore the king, address- ing both parties in a strain of humour, said “ they were both little men, and their heart was at their mouth,” and thus the affair ended. The king by this time saw that it would be impolitic to turn Melville against his government, and therefore he immedi- ately sent for him to a private audience, where, after unrestrained but friendly com- munication on both sides, Melville was dis- missed with the greatest courtesy. We have now come to another memora- ble era in the history of the church (1596) ; and, it is pleasant to observe, that as her difficulties began to thicken, so did our re- former’s vigilance and courage begin to be still more conspicuous. The forfeited lords had secretly returned to the country — the Scottish priests abroad were in close com- munication with the king of Spain, who was still bent upon invading England — James was aware of all this, and he re- mained in a state of listless inaction — and the country was in the greatest alarm, lest perhaps the popish lords should obtain a pardon, nay — be readmitted into his majesty’s counsels. This was no time for inactivity on the part of the reformers, and accordingly we find them upon their watchtower. Huntly had made offers to the government, and a meeting of the privy council was held at Falkland, to consider these. The more moderate of the clergy were also summoned to attend, but Melville was among the uninvited. Conceiving how- ever that he had a right to be present, as a commissioner from the General Assembly, he appeared along with the rest of his brethren; and when the king asked him why he had intruded, he replied, “ Sire, I have a call from Christ and his church, who have a special interest in this conven- tion ; and I charge you and your estates in their name, that you favour not then- enemies, nor go about to make citizens of those who have traitorously sought to betray their country to the cruel Spaniard, to the overthrow of Christ’s kingdom.”* Here he was ordered by his majesty to withdraw, which he did, but not before his words had the happy effect of encouraging the other ministers to hold out, and resist the proposals of the court. A convention of the estates being soon after called at Dunfermline to take the matter again into * M‘Crie’s Life of Melville. ANDREW MELVILLE. 251 consideration, the presbytery sent thither two of their number to watch their pro- ceedings, and to solicit that the promise which the king had made them, declaring that he did not intend to carry the resolu- tions of the privy council into effect, should not be violated. Their petition, however, was thrown out, and the Falkland measures confirmed and ratified. But the General Assembly were not to be outdone even by this. Without delay a commission was appointed to goto Falk- land, and lay their grievances before the king. Being graciously admitted to pri- vate audience, they began through James Melville, their president, to exhort the king to consider what he was doing, and to beware of the consequences that would follow from the steps he was pursuing. Scarcely, however, had he opened his speech, when the king began to storm and rage, saying, that they themselves had been the cause of all the alarm, by infusing into the minds of the people the most unwar- rantable and groundless fears. The presi- dent was proceeding to reply in his usually calm manner, when his uncle, our reformer, unable to bear any longer, caught his majesty by the sleeve, in the warmth of his excitement, and calling him God’s silly vassal , says Dr M‘Crie, he thus addressed him, — “ Sire, we will always humbly reverence your majesty in public ; but since we have this occasion to be with your majesty in private; and, since ye are brought in extreme danger both of your life and crown, and along with you the country and the church of God are like to go to wreck, for not telling you the truth, and giving you faithful counsel, we must dis- charge our duty, or else be traitors both to Christ and you. Therefore, Sire, as divers times before I have told you, so now again I must tell you, there are two kings and two kingdoms in Scotland — there is Christ J esus the King of the church, whose subject king James the Sixth is, and of whose king- dom he is not a king nor a lord, nor a head, but a member. Those whom Christ has called and commanded to watch over his church, and govern his spiritual king- dom, have sufficient power and authority to do this both jointly and severally, — the which no Christian king or prince should control and discharge, but fortify and assist, — otherwise they are not faithful subjects of Christ and members of his church. We will yield to your place, and give you all due obedience ; but again I say you are not the head of the church — you cannot give us that eternal life which even in this world we seek for, and you cannot deprive us of it. Permit us then freely to meet in the name of Christ, and to attend to the interests of that church of which you are the chief member. Sire, when you were in your swaddling-clothes, Christ Jesus reigned freely in this land, in spite of all his enemies : — his officers and ministers convened and assembled for the ruling and welfare of his church, which was ever for your welfare, defence, and preservation, when these same enemies were seeking your destruction and cutting off. Their assemblies since that time continually have been terrible to these enemies and most steadable to you. And now, when there is more than extreme necessity for the continuance and discharge of that duty, will you, drawn to your own destruction by a devilish and most pernicious council, begin to hinder and dishearten Christ’s servants and your most faithful subjects, quarrelling them for their convening and the care they have of their duty to Christ and you, when you should rather commend and countenance them, as the godly kings and emperors did? The wisdom of your counsel, which I call devilish, is this, that ye must be served by all sorts of men, to come to your purpose and grandeur, Jew and Gentile, papist and protestant ; — and SCOTS WORTHIES. ?252 because the protestants and ministers of Scotland are over strong and control the king, they must be weakened and brought low by stirring up a party against them ; and, the king being equally indifferent, both shall be fain to flee to him. But, Sire, if God’s wisdom be the only true wisdom, this will prove mere and mad folly — his curse cannot but light upon it, — in seeking of both ye shall lose both, — where- as in cleaving uprightly to God, his true servants would be your sure friends, and he would compel the rest counterfeitly and lyingly to give over themselves and serve you.” Undissembling, free, and bold, as this speech certainly was, it had the effect of quieting the king — for the moment, at least. He solemnly declared his igno- rance of the return of the popish lords ; and assured the commissioners that no favour should be shown them until the church was satisfied. But James was master of finesse, and his fiiture conduct plainly evinced that he spoke with insincerity. Melville took his departure from Edin- burgh on the 15th of December, and of course was not present at the much-talked of feud between the octavians and cubicu- lars, as the parties were called, and which has been much exaggerated by almost all writers. This tumult, however, was the cause of James issuing a proclamation that all the courts of justice should from that time be transferred to Perth ; and that no ; Assembly, synod, or presbytery, should be I held in Edinburgh. A meeting of the estates and General Assembly was summon- ed by the king, to be held in February at I Perth, to consider the state of affairs ; but Melville was prevented from attending, in consequence of business connected with the university, which required his presence. Of the proceedings, however, he had timely information from his nephew, who left the convention in disgust. At this assembly the king carried all his measures, swaying the members as he found most convenient for his own ends. It cannot be doubted that this was almost entirely owing to Melville’s absence ; and, indeed, the king was heard to express himself in words to that effect, and to add, that on that account, he dreaded his opposition in the Assembly which was appointed to meet at Dundee, on the 10th May following. Melville was greatly agitated on learning how the convention had acted; but the repeated victories he had obtained over the king, and the powerful influence he had among his brethren, kept him from desponding. For presbyterianism he was ready to sub- mit to any sacrifice — even to lay down his life for it, if necessary ; and therefore, that he might avoid even the semblance of sub- mitting to the king’s usurped prerogative, he, with some others of his brethren, held the meeting of Assembly on the ordinary day. Having opened the meeting according to prescribed form, and considered the steps most proper to be taken, the moderator closed their proceedings with fervent prayer to God for direction. It was agreed to refer all business to the king’s Assembly appointed to meet at Dundee. At the time appointed Melville made his appear- ance there among the rest ; but before the hour of meeting, James Melville was sent for to advise his uncle to return home, for fear of the king’s displeasure. To this his reply was, that it would be to no purpose, for he knew well, that his uncle would submit to death, rather than act contrary to what he conceived to be his duty. Melville and his nephew were both desired to wait upon the king next day; and, says James Melville in his diary, they were at first both very calm, but when my uncle began to speak his mind freely, the king became hot and furious — “ and there they heckled on, till all the house and close baitli heard.” At this meeting also, James, by the help of the northern ministers ANDREW MELVILLE. gained so far upon the assembly as to get fourteen ministers nominated, to advise with him “in all affairs concerning the weal of the church, and entertainment of peace and obedience to his Majesty within his realm.” The king’s real intention in this was to get quit of preshy terianism altogether, under the pretence of arranging regarding the ministers of Edinburgh and St Andrews, providing ministers for vacant churches, and allocating stipends for the whole throughout the kingdom ; although he had artfully con- cealed this from the Assembly. James now began to rule with a high hand, and, by virtue of his assumed prero- gative, summoned the presbytery of St Andrews to appear before him at Falkland; and there, in opposition to all their remonstrances, he restored to his min- isterial office and living, a minister who had been deposed for immoralities. Not content with this, attended by his privy counsellors, he visited St Andrews with the intention of ejecting the ministers, and placing the university under such subjuga- tion as might deter them from thwarting him in the schemes which he was meditat- ing : and, to such a length did he carry his insolence, that he imperiously ordered Robert Wallace to desist in the middle of a sermon. But Melville was not silent upon the occasion. Regardless of the royal presence, and that of his attending sycophants, he rebuked the king sharply for his interference, and at the same time did not spare the commissioners for their tacit acquiescence in such unwarranted and unauthorized conduct, although he could not at the time be free from the suspicion that he himself might be the next object of royal persecution. And, so indeed it happened. Every method was tried to intrap our reformer. The king dreaded him more than all the other ministers in the kingdom ; and, therefore, to get him out of the way was the grand aim of James | 253 and his party. At the visitation of the university which took place at this time, a long catalogue of complaints was handed in to the king, from persons whose displea- sure he had incurred ; but from all these Melville cleared himself so satisfactorily, that even the tortuous mind of James could find nothing plausible enough whereon to found an accusation. It was however necessary to visit him with some mark of royal censure, and therefore he was, to suit the king’s purposes, degraded from the Rectorship of the college — an office which he had held for seven years, with much honour to himself, and great usefulness to the seminary. It was easy for James to find pretexts for this measure ; but his main object was to get Melville debarred from attending the church courts, where he had always been a sharp thorn in the king’s side ; and this he attempted to effect by enacting a regulation, that no doctor or regent, teaching only theology or philoso- phy, without having the pastoral charge of a particular congregation, should have a seat either in kirk sessions, presbyteries, synods, or General Assembly, under pain of deprivation of office. All this, however, did not in the least intimidate Melville; for he determined to adhere to his privilege, cost what it might ; and this he very soon had an opportunity of evincing, by his attendance at a meeting of the synod of Fife, where, upon being challenged by Thomas Buchanan, an apostate, as to his right to be present, he defended himself, by telling the tergiversator, that it had been his province to expound the word of God, and to sit and vote ; nay, even preside in ecclesiastical courts, when he was only teaching hie , hwc, hoc , to young men and boys. At the General Assembly held at Dun- dee, in 1588, Melville made his appearance, notwithstanding the restrictions under j which he had been laid at the royal visita- j SCOTS WORTHIES. 254 tion at St Andrews ; but when his name was called, his majesty objected, and de- clared that he would permit no business to be done, until Melville had withdrawn. Melville defended himself with his wonted boldness, and presence of mind, and told James that his veto could extend only to his official academical situation, as rector of the university, which he had obeyed ; but not to his theological status, as a min- ister of Christ, — that he was nominated by his presbytery as their commissioner, and he was determined not to betray it. That the business of the court might not be in- terrupted, however, Melville judged it pru- dent to retire; but not until he had de- livered his sentiments freely upon the topics regarding the church, which were to occupy the attention of the Assembly. The king’s commands were, that he should not come forth from his lodgings ; but this would not do, as his brethren found him out there, and therefore the royal mandate was given, that he should leave Dundee without delay. By this it was evident, that the poor imbecile monarch durst not proceed with his business so long as the magnanimous reformer was within reach, although he had a packed assembly of cringing commissioners, and “a trained band of voters from the extremities of the north.” The king’s measure, which he wanted to carry at this Assembly, was, “ that the ministry, as the third state of the realm, should, in the name of the church, have a vote in parliament.” This was stoutly opposed by the reformers, who plainly foresaw that it was but a prelude to the introduction of episcopacy. It was therefore put off, from want of unanimity, until the sentiments of the different church courts should be ascertained, after which a deputation from these bodies, along with the professors of theology, were to hold a conference in presence of his majesty, on the points that had been left unsettled. At these preparatory meetings Melville gave sedulous attendance. So dissatisfied was the king with the meeting held at Falkland after these conferences, that the General Assembly summoned to meet at Aberdeen was put off sine die. Melville could neither be deterred by threats, nor allured by fair promises from watching this momentous question ; and accordingly we find him again at a meeting in Holyrood- house, in November 1599, telling the king, in the debate upon the lawfulness of clergy- ANDREW MELVILLE. men to sit in parliament, to beware that he did not set up those who would cast him or his successors down. Upon the second topic, viz., the duration of the office, a very keen and animated debate was kept up ; in course of which it was said, says Dr M‘Crie — “that his majesty and the parlia- ment would not admit the voters otherwise than for life.” “ Then,” replied Melville, “ the loss will be small !”■ — “ Oh but !” it was answered, “ministers will then have to lie in contempt and poverty.” “ It was their Master’s case before them,” answered our reformer, — “ better poverty with sin- cerity, than promotion with corruption !” “ Others will then be promoted to the place,” retorted the friends of the measure, “ who will oppress and ruin the church, for the king will not want his third estate !” “ Then let Christ, the Kang of the church, avenge her wrongs, as he has done before !” — The third measure, “ the denomination of the voter in parliament,” gave rise to a long and interesting debate, and afforded Melville an opportunity of keen and cutting satire, which with his usual tact he handled with great dexterity. It was contended by James and his party, that nothing inferior to the dignity of bishop would satisfy. “ Very well,” said Melville, “ I grant the name of bishop to be scriptural, certainly ; but I would propose to prefix to it, an epithet which is scriptural also, and in this I am supported by the apostle Peter, — I would christen them busy-bishops , because they interfere with matters totally uncon- nected with their office as ministers of Christ !” — Resuming his gravity, however, he said that the church of Scotland had decided, that no idea of superiority was attached to the word bishop in the New Testament ; but that it was applied indis- criminately to all preaching presbyters, and therefore he conceived that the title was only calculated to flatter the vanity of ambitious men, whose tastes savoured more I 255 of the things of this world, than of the things that be of God. All eyes were now bent upon the Gen- eral Assembly that was to meet at Mon- trose, on the 28th of March, 1600 ; which Row says was “ notified only by sound of trumpet at the cross of Edinburgh, and other needful places, whereat many good Christians wondered, seeing there never was the like before.” Melville was re- turned by the presbytery of St Andrews as one of their commissioners; and he hastened to Montrose at the time appointed; but no sooner was it known that he had arrived, than a royal mandate was issued, commanding his immediate appearance. Nothing intimidated, he obeyed the sum- mons ; but scarcely had he been intro- ! duced, when James, in an imperious tone, demanded why he was so troublesome, knowing that against him there was a positive prohibition. Melville answered that he had been deputed by his presbytery, and their unanimous voice he durst not disobey, under pain of displeasing one much higher, and of far greater dignity than any earthly sovereign. His fortitude rose with the crisis. The king’s rage served only to nerve him the more ; — and, before | leaving the royal presence, he quite coolly | lifted up his hand to his throat, and said, ; “ Sire, if it is this you want, you shall have it ; before I betray the cause of Christ !”• — He was refused a seat in the Assembly, how- ever ; but he remained in the town during the sitting, and was of great service by his advice in keeping his brethren to their | duty. The result of this meeting is well known. Calderwood mentions that Mel- ville was present at an Assembly which met at Burntisland in May 1601, and that he voted against the translation of the ministers of Edinburgh. Nothing further seems to be recorded of him at that meet- ing ; but no sooner was the Assembly dissolved, than a story was got up by the 256 SCOTS WORTHIES. church commissioners, that the king of I Spain was about to attempt another descent upon Britain, and calling upon all ministers to rouse their parishes to a sense of the country’s danger, and to unite, heart and hand, to repel the common foe. There can be no doubt that this fama was propa- gated, solely with a view to divert the at- tention of the reformers from the real danger with which they were threatened ; I and Melville, foreseeing this, took every i opportunity of warning all with whom he was connected, and over whom he had any i influence, of what he conceived to be the true state of the matter. This having been told to the king, he immediately came to St Andrews ; and there, without even the sanction of his privy council, issued the following precept, which we give in the words of Calderwood. “ At St Andrews, the eleventh day of the month of July, in the year of our Lord, 1602, — The king’s Majesty, for certain ! causes and considerations moving his High- ness, ordains a macer or other officer of arms, to pass and in his name and authority command and charge Mr Andrew Melville, principal of the new college of St Andrews, to remain and contain himself in ward, within the precincts of the said college, and in no wise to resort or repair -without the i said precincts while he be lawfully and | orderly relieved, and freed by his Majesty, ! under the pain of rebellion and putting of i him to the horn — with certification to him, if he fail and do in the contrary, that he i shall be incontinent thereafter denounced rebel and put to the horn, and all his moveables goods escheat to his Highness’ | use, for his contemption. “ Thomas Fenteun, Messenger.” Elizabeth, queen of England, having died about this time, James, before his departure to that kingdom, in a speech which he delivered in the High Church of Edinburgh, declared that he had no inten- tion of making any further alteration in the government of the church ; and, through the intercession of the queen, Melville had obtained permission to go anywhere six miles around St Andrews. But even the king’s most solemn assever- i ations were not to be regarded, and this ; the ministers of Scotland well knew. He had set his heart upon uniting the two kingdoms, and therefore it became neces- sary to watch that he did not insist upon uniformity of ecclesiastical worship and government, as well as political jurisdiction. To the latter Melville yielded his decided approbation ; but he, with an overwhelm- j ing majority of his brethren, maintained I that they would part with their lives, rather than renounce any of the articles of their religion. Instructions to this effect were given to the commissioners to lay before 1 parliament, and to demand that former i laws made for the security of the church should be ratified, and that no alteration j or innovation, not founded on the word of God, as already sanctioned by law, solemn 1 promises, and oaths, should have any place in the articles of Union. It will be remembered, that in the year 1592, when Presbytery received the civil sanction, it was then secured to the church, that the General Assembly should meet at least once a year; but James had re- peatedly set this at nought ; and to appli- cations now made to him for liberty to meet, he said that it was neither necessary nor seasonable. Melville took an active ■ part in urging on the different synods to ! assert their rights, by petitioning his | majesty to allow the Assembly to meet for the despatch of important business ; and for this he was represented to James as | being the cause of all the anxiety that was | agitating the country. Orders were im- j mediately sent from London to put him in prison ; but this was not enforced, pro- bably owing to the spirit which was then ANDREW MELVILLE. 257 abroad in the nation. Despite of all the solicitations that had been used, however, the Assembly that should have met in 1605 was again prorogued sine die ; but before this was made public, several presbyteries had made choice of their representatives, and therefore it was judged expedient, that j they should go to Aberdeen, and constitute ; but adjourn to some future day, without ! proceeding to any business. This was done accordingly ; and, just after they had broken up, ten other ministers came for- ward, who, by their subscriptions, approved of what their brethren had done. This step, on the part of the church, was highly resented by James. No sooner was he informed of what had taken place, than he ordered the ministers who had met at Aberdeen, to be summoned before the privy council to answer for their conduct. Four- teen of them having stood to their defence were incarcerated in different prisons. It is amusing to see how this unprincipled monarch acted upon this occasion, in order to put a plausible pretext upon his conduct ; and therefore we here give part of the letter which he sent to Secretary Balmerino, dated from “ Havering in the boure” the 19th of July, 1605. In the Assembly’s letter to the privy council, James had marked, with his own hand, such passages as he thought would render the ministers censurable, and bring them within the compass of the law. The following one chiefly attracts notice : — “ In the said Ire thereafter at this signe-f-, they wald mak this thair apologie for thair proceeding, ‘ that they suld not be the first oppenaris of ane gap to the oppin breach and viola- tioun of the lawis and statutis of this reahne willing the counsell to wey and considder thairoff ; as giflf they wald mak ane plane accusatioun of sum tyrannie intendit be us to the prejudice of the lawis of our kingdome,ane speich altogidder smelling of treasoun and lese majestie.” When brought to trial, the whole of the j accused declined the jurisdiction of the privy council ; and therefore, after every j illegal measure that could be devised by the council and crown officers, the prisoners were found guilty of treason. Sentence j however was delayed, and the king would neither listen to the voice of the nation supplicating for pardon to the condemned, 1 nor would he impart to the council what punishment he intended to inflict. At length, after much painful uncertainty, eight of them were banished to Orkney and Shetland, and six to France. Melville interested himself deeply in their fate ; openly avowing his approval of their con- j duct, and helping forward petitions to parliament in their favour. During their trial at Linlithgow he was present to assist them with his advice ; and after their con- viction, he accompanied them to their place of confinement. Notwithstanding all that happened to our reformer, tho presbytery of St Andrews j nominated him their commissioner, to at- tend a meeting of parliament which was to be held at Perth, in August, 1606, with instructions to watch over the interests of j the church, in conjunction with the deputies from other presbyteries. The church was now in imminent danger, and therefore, knowing well what the king’s instructions were, he and his brethren presented to the j Lords of Articles a memorial, craving, that whatever changes might be in contempla- tion, the privileges of the presbyterian church might be regarded, as these had been en- acted by the General Assembly, and sanc- tioned by the king’s most solemn concur- rence. To this, answer was made by the chancellor, that bishops would be restored to the rank, dignity, and power, which was attached to the office a hundred years ago. | All that the ministers could do in this case j j was to remonstrate ; and, therefore, they j gave in a protest, containing forty- two ! 2 K SCOTS WORTHIES. 258 signatures, of which Melville’s was the first upon the list, couched in the most respect- ful language, but most decidedly hostile to the measures proposed; and maintaining, that to the last they would preserve inviolate what had been given to the church by her Divine Head. Reasons of protest were drawn up by James Melville, with the as- sistance of his uncle ; but James could not be swayed from his purpose. This was the last appearance that Melville was per- mitted to make in Scotland; for, in the end of May, this same year, he was com- manded by the king to appear at London, on the 15th of September following, under the pretence of conferring with him upon the best method of settling the peace of the church. Letters to the same effect were also sent to his nephew, and seven other ministers, his majesty’s most formi- dable opponents in Scotland. Melville, his nephew, and other two ministers, sailed from Anstruther, in Fife, on the 15 th of August; and, in a few days after they arrived in London, they were joined by the other four, who had made the journey by land. On being admitted into the royal pre- sence, they were very graciously received, and had the honour to kiss his majesty’s hand. This first conference was managed by the king with the most artful duplicity, who introduced nothing into the conver- sation that might have the most distant tendency to excite alarm. At the second conference, however, James threw off the mask, and at once demanded an explicit answer to the two following questions : — 1st. Did they approve of the late Assembly held at Aberdeen, and of the conduct of those who held it ? 2nd. What did they consider to be the best mode of obtaining a peaceable meeting of the General Assembly, so as to restore a proper understanding and harmony in the church ? — To these James Melville, in name of the rest, requested time for deliberation ; and they were ac- cordingly granted liberty till next day. On entering the royal apartment, Melville was not a little hurt at finding the room crowded with English nobility, bishops, and other subordinates of the episcopalian church ; and therefore the earl of Dunbar cautioned him to be guarded in his speech before such high and honourable strangers ; but the ministers had made choice of James Melville to be their speaker upon the occasion, in the hope that they would he saved from making speeches upon the subject. This, however, would not satisfy the king ; and he therefore told them that every man must speak for himself. Begin- ning with the bishops, James first wished to know from them, what was their opinion concerning the pretended Assembly which had met at Aberdeen. One and all of them answered, that it was “ daring and illegal.” Upon which, turning to Melville, the king thus addressed him — “ Well, Mr Andrew, what is your opinion ; you have heard how your brethren condemn that convocation? Do you think that eight or nine ministers, met without any warrant, wanting the chief members, the moderator and scribe, convening unmannerly without a sermon, being also discharged by open proclamation, can make an Assembly or not?” Undismayed either at the splen- dour or dignity of the audience, Melville, in a speech of great length, of which we can give only a few brief extracts from Dr M‘Crie, spoke thus : — “ For myself, I have been for a long time debarred from public meetings ; but, since it is your majesty’s pleasure, I shall en- deavour to give satisfaction on the different objections your majesty has stated. With respect to the paucity of members, I pre- sume there is no rule fixing the precise number. In the days of our Lord’s humilia- tion, two or three, met in his name, had the assurance of his presence ; and the ANDREW MELVILLE. 259 promise will continue to the end of time. An ordinary meeting of a court, established by law, cannot be declared unlawful on account of the smallness of the number who may choose to attend. Besides, the ministers who attended at Aberdeen were sufficiently numerous for transacting all the business they intended, which was only to constitute . the Assembly, and prorogue till a future day. As to their warrant, it is founded on Scripture, your majesty’s laws, and the commissions which they received from their presbyteries. The presence of the former moderator and clerk was not essential to the validity of the Assembly, which, in case these office-bearers were either necessarily or wilfully absent, might choose others in their room according to reason and the practice of the church. With regard to no sermon having been preached, your majesty has been misin- formed; because one of the ministers of Aberdeen delivered a discourse at the opening of the meeting. And, as to the alleged discharge of the Assembly on the day before it met” (turning and addressing himself to Lauriston* the king’s commis- sioner, who was present, he said), u I charge you, in the name of the church of Scotland, ! as you shall answer before the great God at the appearance of Jesus Christ to judge the quick and the dead, to testify the truth, and tell whether any such discharge was given or not !” (Lauriston remained silent, and the king desired Melville to go on and state his reasons for not condemning the conduct of the ministers.) “ May it please your majesty, I am here but as a private individual, come upon your majesty’s letter, * Lauriston gave out that he had discharged the Assembly, by open proclamation at the market- cross of Aberdeen, on the day before it met ; but no person heard this, and it was universally believed that he antedated his proclamation, to conciliate the king and the court ministers, who were offended at him for the countenance which he had given to the meeting . — Dr M‘ Crie. without any commission from the church of Scotland ; and as no person has made me a judge, I cannot take upon me to con- demn them. Your majesty has, by your proclamation at Hampton court” (here Melville produced the proclamation,) “ re- mitted their trial to a General Assembly, expecting there reparation of wrongs, if any have been done. I cannot prejudge the church and Assembly of my vote, which if I give now, I shall be sure to have my mouth shut then, as I and others of my brethren have found before. Besides, the case is already prejudged by your majesty’s council ; whether rightly or not, I remit to God, before whom one day they must ap- pear and answer for that sentence ; and therefore, I am of opinion that your majesty would not much relish it, if I should now contradict your majesty’s coun- cil and their proceedings. How then can I condemn my brethren, who have not yet been put upon their trial, having neither heard your majesty’s accusation, nor their defence ?” At the close of this speech, his nephew handed to the king a petition from the condemned ministers, upon which his majesty said, “ I am glad to see this !” It was evident that James felt uneasy at Melville’s oration; and the more so, because he had been supported by every one of his brethren, in everything he had advanced. But Melville was quite master of himself. In a discussion which at the same time took place between the lord advocate of Scotland, and one of the ministers, upon the trial of, the Scottish clergy for treason, Melville , caught some expressions uttered by the former, that he could not refrain from answering; and, falling upon his knees be- fore his majesty, begged to be heard again. Permission having been granted, he now threw off all restraint, and in a strain of bold, impassioned eloquence, which aston- ished the audience, fearlessly vindicated his brethren in all that they had done. Nor | j did the lord advocate escape without a j ! severe castigation. “ I charge you, Sir,” ' | said Melville sternly, “with having employed j all your craft and eloquence to convict the ! | unoffending servants of Christ. The ac- | j cuser of the brethren could not have done 1 1 more against the saints of God, than you j I did against these men at Linlithgow ; and, j not satisfied with the part you then and there acted, you take upon you still to show j yourself "o zaTtjyogog ruv AdiXfit wv” — * i. e. “ the accuser of the brethren.” Instead of pacifying the enraged monarch, ! as might have been expected, or swaying | his mind to more pacific measures, the !| unanimous expression of sentiment by ! Melville and his brethren served only to determine the king to more harsh and i unprincely conduct ; and therefore before the ministers had time to reach their lodg- ings, they were overtaken by one of the royal secretaries, who read to them a charge not to appear in the presence of either king, queen, or prince, without special liberty. This did not affect them much ; but on the 28th September, they were again sent for to meet the Scottish council, in presence of the earl of Dunbar and the lord advocate. Melville was the last of being admitted. With his wonted boldness he told these | noblemen, that they were a disgrace to I their country and their forefathers, who ! scrupled not to hazard life and fortune in defence of the gospel ; whereas they, their descendants, were leaguing together for ' its overthrow. Each of the ministers, j | * At this expression, the king, turning to the archbishop of Canterbury, exclaimed, “ What’s that he said ? I think he calls him Antichrist. Nay, i by G — ; it is the Devil’s name in the Revelation of their well-beloved John.” Then rising hastily, he said, “ God be with you. Sirs !” — But, recol- lecting himself, he turned to the ministers, and ! asked what advice they had to give him for paci- ; fying the church ; to which they all, with one voice, j replied, A free General Assembly ! — Dr M l Cric. j before his dismissal, received in writing the following questions, which he was desired to answer: — 1st. Have you not transgressed your duty by praying for your ! condemned brethren, and are you willing j to ask his Majesty’s pardon for your offence ? 2nd. Do you acknowledge that his majesty, in virtue of his royal prerogative, has full j power to convocate, proro'gue, and dismiss, all ecclesiastical assemblies within his dominions ? 3rd. Has the king a lawful right, by his royal authority, to call before him and his council, all persons, ecclesiasti- cal and civil, for whatsoever faults ; and are all subjects bound to appear, answer, and obey, in the premises ? To these, an- swers were given in, — guarded, but explicit; without the most distant tendency to devi- ate, in the least, from the principles they had hitherto maintained. Along with these they also tendered their advice as to the best method of allaying the disturbances, and securing the tranquillity of the church, in a paper to which all their names were adhibited. Melville and his brethren, think- ing all was now over, were anxious to re- turn home ; but nothing was farther from James’ intention. Every method was tried to entrap them ; their conduct was watched I upon all occasions ; they were compelled bishops ; they were marched to and from church like penitentiaries, day after day, without any prospect of release ; and on the 28th of the same month, they were ; by a message from the king ordered to i attend in the royal chapel, it being the feast of St Michael. Several foreigners I of distinction were present; and all im- | aginable pomp suited to the day was ex- j hibited, in order to attract the attention of the reformers. Melville’s eye was j particularly drawn to the altar, on which were two hooks, shut ; two empty chalices, i and two candlesticks with candles unlighted. On this dumb, dark, and empty display, ho ANDREW MELVILLE. 261 composed the following epigram, after he returned to his lodgings : — Cur stant clausi Anglis libri duo regia in ara, Lumina caeca duo, pollubra sicca duo ? I Num sensum cultumque Dei tenet Anglia clausum, Lumine caeca suo, sorde sepulta sua ? | Romano an ritu dum regalem instruit aram, Purpuream pingit religiosa lupam ? j As these verses were afterwards made I the subject of serious accusation against Melville, we hope it will not be judged improper for having introduced them into our narrative ; and therefore we shall give the following old translation, which is perfectly accurate, copied verbatim from Dr M‘Crie : — Why stand there on the Royal Altar hie Two closed books, blind lights, two basins drie ? Doth England hold God’s mind and worship closs, Blind of her sight, and buried in her dross ? Doth she, with Chapel put in Romish dress, The purple whore religiously express ? These verses were not long in being | shown to the king ; and it was supposed | to have been done by one of the spies, who I I were, under various pretences, in the con- i I stant habit of frequenting the ministers’ | lodgings; the result of which was, that j Melville was summoned to attend a meet- ! ing of the English privy council at White- ! hall, on the 30th of November. A copy j of the verses having been shown to him, ! he acknowledged the composition to be | j his own ; and said that he had done it out j of pity and indignation, at seeing a church, I calling itself reformed, so far lost to true I religion, and the pure light of the gospel, j as to introduce such gross and base idolatry. How it had come to his majesty’s hand he knew not ; but of this he was certain, that j he had not given a copy to any one ; but j his mind was quite at ease upon the sub- ! ject, however, as he intended to have em- braced the earliest opportunity of showing I i them to his majesty himself. He said, at ! the same time, that he was not conscious of any crime in having penned these verses ; but the archbishop of Canterbury declared that having spoken in such terms of the church of England was a high misdemea- nor, and brought the writer fairly within the laws of treason. Melville maintained that he had never been a traitor, and told the archbishop to his face, that he con- sidered him the capital enemy of all the reformed churches in Europe ; and as such he professed himself to be his enemy to the last drop of blood in his body ; and that he was sorry that such a person should be so near his majesty, and have a seat in his councils. One of the Scottish noblemen — fearing that Melville was going too far, desired him to remember in whose presence he was, and to whom he was speaking — re- ceived from him the following sharp rebuke ; “ I remember very well,” my lord, “ and am sorry that your lordship, by sitting here, and countenancing such proceedings against me, should furnish a precedent which may yet be used against yourself and your pos- terity.” The king had not thought it proper to be present upon this occasion, but the court had instructions how to act ; and Melville was therefore committed to the custody of the dean of St Paul’s, to remain a close prisoner in his house, with- out liberty either to make or receive visits, until the 9th of March in the following year, when he was ordered to remove to the house of the bishop of Winchester. The plot against Melville was deeply laid — they had got into their hands the man of whom they were most afraid ; and therefore it was determined, contrary to all justice, and the law of nations, that he should never revisit his native country. Before, however, placing himself under the superintendence of his new overseer, he paid a visit to his brethren, where he re- mained without molestation for a few weeks, until the 26th of April, when he received! a message from the bishop, requesting his SCOTS WORTHIES. 262 presence at Whitehall. Before taking leave of his brethren, his nephew said to him, — “ They know you will speak your mind freely, and therefore they will be all on the watch to find something farther against you, with a view to keep you longer j from returning to Scotland — to which the uncle replied, — “If God have any 1 business for me to do in Scotland, he will j carry me thither ; and, if not, it is my de- sire to glorify him wherever I am ; but I have still something to say, — let them make of me what they will, I will never pass in silence the abominable superstitions and errors which they seek to introduce, in order to shut out the pure and blessed light of the gospel.” Before he was ready to depart, two messages arrived, informing him that the council were waiting for him. Having heard this with perfect composure, he commended himself and his brethren to God, in a short but fervent prayer, and withdrew. The epigram being the only plausible charge which the council had against him, recourse was had to this, in order, if possible, to convict him of treason. Upon this occasion, the king had secreted himself in an adjoining room, that he might overhear what was said without being seen ; and probably thinking that Melville would be less guarded in his speech, and i might thereby be the more easily caught. But this had no effect, — the face of majesty would have laid him under no restraint. Like his great precursor, “ he feared not the face of man,” when duty to his God required him to speak out. Melville spared neither king, lords, nor bishops ; but fearlessly re- proved them all. In vain did they attempt to bring out an apology, or extort a retrac- ’ tation. He adhered resolutely to all that he had either written or spoken ; and made ! such an open exposure of the delinquencies I of both king and court, that they wished ! i n their hearts they had never brought him from St Andrews. Finding, therefore, every effort unavailing, and seeing no other way in which they could be revenged, he was committed prisoner to the Tower. Upon hearing his sentence, he magnani- mously cried out: “ To tills comes England’s boasted pride at last ! — very lately you put a priest to death, and to-morrow you would do the same to a minister !”* Having said i so, he appealed to the duke of Lennox, j and the earl of Mar, and told them he was I a true Scotsman, and to take care that it did not end wdth them, as it began with himself. This expression enraged the king more than anything that he had spoken ; wherefore he gave orders that he should be immediately conveyed to the; Tower, by water, without any of his friends . being permitted to see him. Aware that ' he could never have regained his liberty without sacrificing his principles, he had resolved to speak out his mind freely, and, rather than accept it upon any other terms, than free unfettered restraint in the ex- ercise of his duty as a public teacher, and minister of Christ, he preferred an hon- ourable captivity. The fate of Melville cast a gloom over the hope of release for his brethren ; and so it turned out, — his nephew was commanded to leave London within six days, and to betake himself to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, under heavy pen- alties if he should be afterwards found above ten miles distant from that place. The rest of the ministers were sent to different parts of Scotland, and not only prohibited from preaching, but also from | attending upon church courts ; and to be * In the end of 1607, a minister in London was reprimanded for some freedom which he had taken from the pulpit, with the estate of bishops. Having afterwards given out some copies of his sermon, he was publicly whipped, made to stand four hours in the pillory, and had one of his ears cut off. Two j days after, he was again brought out, stood other j four hours in the pillory, lost his remaining ear, | and was condemned to perpetual banishment . — Dr I M ( Crie. ANDREW MELVILLE. 263 ready to produce testimonials of good behaviour from the bishops, when required, or to return to London within a stipulated time. ! It would be unfeeling to close this part | of our narrative, without casting a retro- spective glance at the final farewell of these eminent and affectionate friends, who were now to be separated for ever in this world. Melville had been delivered over to the governor of the Tower, with positive orders that no one should be admitted into his presence ; but, through the kindness of one of the keepers, his nephew had obtained permission to converse, for a short time every day, with his uncle, outside the prison, while the former continued in London. | Forgetful of his own sentence, and tarrying | for a fortnight in the city beyond the period prescribed for his departure, he thought only how he might alleviate his uncle’s J sufferings ; but, all that he could obtain was, that his servant was allowed to in- ! carcerate himself along with his master. Melville had been to him a father, a teacher, and a friend ; and he was repaid with the affection of a dutiful son, the gratitude of a much attached disciple, and the fidelity of one who would have died to save his benefactor. Old age was now stealing apace upon his uncle, and his tender heart was ready to rend at the thought of leaving him in captivity and poverty. But he could do no more. Having therefore conveyed to his uncle all the money he could spare, he went on board a vessel bound for Newcastle, at the foot of the Tower stairs, on the 2nd of July, 1607. When sailing down the river, he re- mained on deck as long as his eyes could catch a glimpse of his uncle’s prison ; and, with eyes suffused with tears, he breathed out prayers for him whom he so ardently and enthusiastically loved, and whose face he was never again to behold on earth. Scarcely had Melville slept in his new apartment, until the king wrote to St i Andrews, declaring that the privy council had found the Reformer guilty of a high trespass, and as he would not be allowed to return to the university, they might proceed to fill up the vacancy. To add to the miseries of his confinement, a pretence was soon found for removing his servant from him, and no person was allowed to see him, except the one who carried him his food. He was denied the use of writ- ing materials ; but, notwithstanding the dismal loneliness of his situation, his spirit j remained unsubdued, and he amused himself by writing verses upon the walls of his cell, with the tongue of his shoe-buckle. In this state he lingered out ten months. In the course of the following year, however, through the interest of Sir James Sempell of Belltrees, he was removed to a more comfortable apartment, where his friends were occasionally admitted to visit him, and where he was indulged with paper, j ink, and pens. In the month of May he wrote to his nephew, that notwithstanding I the severity of the previous winter, his health was not in the least impaired, and j that he felt comparatively cheerful in the cause for which he was suffering, — well in body and soul — prepared for whatever might be the event, either to remain where he was, to return home, or to go into exile. During his confinement he was visited by several persons of distinguished reputation, with whom he conversed with the most apparent cheerfulness and affability, show- ing to those of them who were capable of judging, a Latin paraphrase of the psalms of David, with which he occupied his hours. In the month of November, 1610, the Duke de Bouillon applied to James for Melville’s release, and for liberty to send him to Sedan in France ; but this negotiation was soon broken off by the queen regent of that country, who, having heard that Melville was of a turbulent disposition, judged it 2G4 SCOTS WORTHIES. 1 , unsafe to admit a man of such habits within her dominions. James himself had been the propagator of these calumnies, in order to save his own reputation abroad ; but the truth having come out at length, the duke was more fortunate in February, 1611, having procured his final release from the place of his captivity. Pecuniary embar- rassments, however, prevented him, in the mean time, from accepting the duke’s invitation to go to Sedan, and his nephew was unable to assist him. Although his health had held out well during his con- finement, yet upon being set at liberty it began to give way, and he at last caught a fever, which confined him for a short time. Powerful influence was now exerted by many of his friends, that he might be allowed to return to his native country; but the terms dictated by the king were such as, when rehearsed to Melville, he would by no means accept. Having through the liberality of some of his friends in Scot- land been favoured with a sum of money, sufficient to enable him to make a respec- table appearance in France, and his health being considerably recruited, he set sail for that country, after having been four years confined a prisoner in the Tower. The state of his mind at that time will be best known from himself, and therefore we hope it is unnecessary to apologize for the following letter, which we extract from Hr M‘Crie, written to his nephew, immedi- ately before he embarked : — “ My dear son, my dear James, farewell, farewell in the Lord. I must now go to other climes. Such is the pleasure of my divine and heavenly Father, and I regard it as a fruit of his paternal love towards me. Why should I not, when he has recovered me from a sudden and heavy distemper, and animates me to the journey by so many tokens of his favour ? Now at length I feel the truth of the presage which I have frequently pronounced — that it behoved me to confess Christ on a larger theatre; which, | so far as it may yet be unfulfilled, shall soon, 1 I augur, receive a complete verification. In the mean time I retain you in my heart, nor shall anything in this life be dearer to me, after God, than you. To day I set out on my journey under the auspices of Heaven, — may the God of mercy give it a prosperous issue. Join with me in sup- plicating that it may turn out for his glory and the profit of his church. Although I have no uneasiness about my library, yet I must request you to charge those who are intrusted with its keeping, to be careful of it, both for my sake, and for the sake of the church to which I have dedicated myself and all my property. Who knows but we may yet meet again to give thanks publicly to God for all his benefits to us ? Why should we not cherish the hope of better days; seeing the fraud and pride of our enemies have brought us to a condition which appears to prognosticate the ruin of the lately reared fabric ? Our three pre- tended bishops affirm that they urged, and on their knees supplicated his Majesty to restore me to my native country : but you know the disposition of the men, and what was the drift of their request. The vessel is under weigh, and I am called on board. My salutations to all friends. The grace of God be with you always. From the Tower of London, just embarking, the 19th of April, 1611, “ Yours as his own in the Lord, “ Andrew Melville.” Melville, on arriving in France, paid a short visit to Rouen and Paris, and im- mediately after hastened off to Sedan, where he was admitted as joint professor in theo- logy with Daniel Tilenus, — the latter teach- ing the system, and the former prelecting on the Scriptures. In a letter to his nephew he thus expresses himself in the language of Dr M‘Crie. — “ The Lord, on whom, and not on the pleasures or wishes of men, I ANDREW MELVILLE. 205 || depend wholly, has his own limes. I keep all my friends in my eye ; I carry them in my bosom ; I commend them to the God of mercy in my daily prayers. What comes to my hand I do : I fill up my station to the best of my ability. My conversation is in heaven. I neither importune nor deprecate the day of my death — I aspire after things divine^ — I maintain my post. | About human things I give myself little trouble. In fine, I live to God and the church. I do not sink under adversity, — I reserve myself for better days. My mind is prepared by the grace of God ; and, strong in the Lord, for whose sake 1 am not afraid to meet death in that new and living way which he hath consecrated, and which leads to heaven alike from every quarter of the globe.” The report of his nephew’s death, which reached him in April, 1614, gave a power- ful shock to his feelings ; and this is not to be wondered at ; for, like Saul and J onathan, ; they had been “ lovely in their lives.” This ' excellent man, this paragon of humility, and gentleness, and faith, and good works, i ! when asked upon his death-bed, if he had j a wish to be restored to health, replied, “ No ! not for twenty worlds.” The first expression that escaped Melville when the melancholy tidings reached him was, “ The Lord hath taken to himself the faithful 1 brother, my dearly beloved son. I fear melancholy to have abridged his days. I Now he is out of all doubt and trouble, i enjoying the fruits of his sufferings here : i God forgive the instruments of his with- ! holding from his flock.” Soon after this, the infirmities of age began to distress him ; but amidst all his sufferings he kept up his natural cheerfulness of mind. In 1612, we find him writing in the following strain,* “ Am I not threescore and eight years old, — unto the which age none of my fourteen * To Mr Robert Durie, minister of Anstruther. brethren came ? And yet, I thank God, I eat, I drink, I sleep, as well as I did these thirty years bygone, and better than when , I was younger, — in the very flower of youth. Only the gravel now and then seasons my mirth with some little pain, which I have felt only since the beginning of March, last year, a month before my ! deliverance from prison. I feel, thank God, ! no abatement of alacrity and ardour of mind for the propagation of the truth. Neither use I spectacles now more than ever — yea, I use none at all, nor ever did ; and I see now the smallest Hebrew without points, and the smallest characters. Why, may I not live to see a change for the better, when the prince shall be informed truly by honest men, or God open his eyes and move his heart to see the pride of stately pre- lates !” In the following year, in a letter to the same correspondent, he says — “ My 1 heart is a Scotch heart, and as good or better nor ever it was, both toward God and man. The Lord only be praised thereof, to whom belongs all glory. Who can tell when out of this confusion it may please him to draw out some good order, and to the comfort of his children and relief of his servants ? — Courage, courage, brother ! we shall judge angels ; how much more mortals !” In the year 1616, to the same person he writes, — “ Let the bishops be i moles ; we shall lay our treasures in heaven, where they shall be safe. My colic, gravel, and gout, are messengers to spoil my patience, but to exercise my faith. My health is better than I would look for at this age, — praised be the true Mediator, to whose glory may it serve and to the benefit i of his church !” To his dying hour Melville felt a deep interest in the affairs of the church of Scot- land. He had heard of the jive articles of Perth , which for the sake of some of our readers we shall here name, — kneeling when receiving the sacrament — the observ- a * II SCOTS WORTHIES. 266 ance of holidays — confirmation by bishops before being first admitted to communion — private baptism — and private communicat- ing — and he said be could not have believed that the government would have carried matters to such extremity. He was greatly distressed for the church. “ Let us not fear the wiles of her enemies,” he said ; “ but turn our eyes to Him who governs and over-rules all things for the good of those who love him. He that shall come will come, and will cleanse his floor, and consume the chaff and rubbish with the fire of his wrath. Let us reserve ourselves for better times, and He who is at once our way, and our guide, and the beginning and end of our course, will bring all things to a happy termination. I had rather remain the captive of a legitimate sovereign, than become the servant of the legitimate lords. I esteem it more honourable to wear the chains of a lawful king, than the insignia of unlawful prelates. I am filled with grief and indignation at the present deplor- able state of affairs, and at the hard fate of good men, who cannot obtain corporal liberty without submitting to a spiritual bondage.” His constitution began to give way in 1620, and gradually wore down that frame, which had been “in perils oft, in bonds and in imprisonment” for the cause of Christ and his church. Little more is known of him from this period till the time of his death, which took place at Sedan, in the course of the year 1622. The whole tenor of his life, however, con- tradicts the assertion of a certain writer, that he became unconcerned about the interests of the church of Scotland before his death — as a refutation of which, we might adduce the testimony of Robert Boyd of Trochrig, at that time principal of the university of Edinburgh ; hut, as we shall have occasion to notice this in our account of that eminent divine, we shall content ourselves with translating from “ Simson’s Annals,” the following, which, | from its brevity, point, and originality, is j not unworthy of notice. “ Andrew Melville j was a man of the greatest piety, of singu- j lar zeal (the zeal of God’s house ate him | up), the foremost — nay he stood alone — for his acumen in all languages and sciences. He introduced Athens and Jerusalem (Greek and Hebrew,) into Scotland — he was an enemy to pseudo-episcopacy and j popery, ever upon the alert — throughout life he continued in a state of celibacy, and strict chastity. By warrant of the king he was cast into the Tower, where he remained j till the Duke of Bouillon took him to j France. In that country he was a valiant j wrestler for the truth, until the day of his ! death, in 1622 : — an octogenarian .” — His exact age, however, was seventy-seven. In the beginning of our memoir we have dwelt at so great a length upon his intel- lectual endowments, as to render it alto- gether superfluous to say much more upon this head, than that even at the time of his ; death, he had few equals, and certainly no superiors. To Latin poetry he was pecu- liarly attached, being a very common amusement among scholars in the age in which he lived. His style was pure, chaste, flowing, and elegant ; but when he chose to dip his pen in gall, it was master satire, — keen, pointed, and effective. In this, however, he indulged only against episcopal hierarchy and antichristian j popery. His versification of many of the i psalms of David is but little inferior to that of his great prototype, and his para- phrase on the song of Moses will he admired, so long as the beauties of the language in which it is written are ^studied and appreciated. His panegyric on the two Scaligers and his preceptor Buchanan j will do him honour while time endures. Of his natural temper, the attentive reader must have come to the conclusion, that it was lofty, ardent, and independent; far ANDREW MELVILLE. 267 removed from the fear of threat or suffering; but at the same time candid, forgiving, open, generous, and above suspicion. Of dissimulation he knew nothing. Hypocrisy | formed no part of his character ; and the ! despicable art of cringing had no place in his heart. But, it is with his character as a Scottish Reformer, a public minister, a saint, a man of God, that we have here chiefly to do. Others of his contempo- raries were perhaps nearly as unflinching as he, in their opposition to the introduc- tion of episcopacy ; but to him certainly appertains the merit of being the first to denounce the scheme ; viewing it as he did at first in its remote bearings, he threw down the gauntlet even before majesty, j who had the foolhardiness to take it up, | and thereby to render himself the scorn, and contempt, and pity, not only of the age in which he lived ; but even to hand down his name to posterity for universal execra- tion. Whether James or Melville had the mastery it will not be difficult to decide. The monarch could deprive him of office, and debar him from his presence ; but did he ever deter him from meeting with his brethren, and helping on the great cause ! by his example and advice ? — he could j shut him up in a dungeon, and keep at a | distance from him the sweets of social con- I versation, and the apparatus for conveying | his meditations to those who were without ; | but did he thereby fetter his genius ? — the very walls of his cell afforded him ample space for his effusions, written with a style sharp as the point of a diamond — he could drive him into exile, far from his church, and his country; but could he persuade him to restrain prayer before God, or pre- vent him from pouring forth his supplica- tions for the afflicted, persecuted, church of Scotland ? Never ; — no sufferings could force him to retract his opposition, — no favours induce him even to smile appro- bation. As a preacher of God’s word, he was talented in a very high degree ; zealous, untiring, instant in season and out of season, and eminently successful ; and as a saint of God, he was a living epistle of the power of religion on the heart. Sound in faith and pure in morals, he recommended the gospel in his fife and conversation — he fought the good fight ; and, as a shock of corn cometh in in its season, so he bade adieu to this mortal life, ripe for everlasting glory. If John Knox rid Scotland of the errors and superstitions of popery, — Andrew Melville contributed materially, by his fortitude, example, and counsel, to resist even to the death, the propagation of a form of worship, uncongenial to the Scottish character ; and therefore his name deserves to be handed down to latest generations, as an eminent scholar, a sound presbyterian, a faithful minister, and a distinguished servant of God. i| 268 SCOTS WORTHIES. WILLIAM ROW. William Row was a son of John Row, minister at Perth. His father, John Row, had gone abroad in early youth, and the fame of his talents and learning having reached the Vatican, he was, in 1559, selected by the pope as an emissary to watch over the dawning reformation in Scotland. He, however, shortly after his return to his native country, embraced the principles of the reformed religion, and advocated them with zeal and ability. He was in 1560 appointed minister of Perth, and from that time had considerable in- fluence in the councils of the reformed clergy, — sharing the friendship of Knox and other distinguished men of that age. His son William, the subject of this me- moir, enjoyed a very liberal education under his own eye. The day of his birth is not recorded; but there is reason to believe, that it was in the year 1563. Some say his first and only appointment was to the parish of Forgandenny, in the presbytery of Perth. According to others, he was settled minister at Strathmiglo, in Fife, about the year 1600, and continued there for several years. His life, though short, is peculiarly interesting. He was one of those ministers who refused to give public thanks for the king’s deliverance from his danger in Gowrie’s conspiracy, until the truth of that plot should be made to appear. This refusal brought upon him the king’s displeasure, and he was summoned to appear before the king and council at Stirling soon after. On the day appointed for his compearance, two noblemen were sent, the one before the other, to meet him on the road, and, under pretence of friendship, to inform him that the council had a design upon his life, that so he might be prevailed on to decline appearing. The first met him near his own house, the second a few miles from Stirling ; but Row told them that he would not, by disobedience to the summons, make himself justly liable to the pains of law ; and proceeded to Stirling to the amazement of the king and his court. When challenged for disbelieving the truth of that conspiracy, he told them, as one reason of his hesitation, that one Hender- son, who was said to have confessed that Gowrie hired him to kill the king, and to have been found armed in his majesty’s chamber for that purpose, was not only suffered to live, but rewarded : “ Whereas,” said he, “ if I had seen the king’s life in hazard, and not ventured my life to rescue him, I think I deserved not to live.” The two following anecdotes will show what an uncommon degree of courage and resolution he possessed. Being at Edinburgh previous to a meeting of Assembly there, at which the king wanted to bring in some innovation, and meeting with Mr James Melville, who was sent for by the king, he accompanied him to Holy- roodliouse. While Melville was with the king, Row stood behind a screen, and not WILLIAM ROW. getting an opportunity to go out with his brother, undiscovered, he overheard the king say to some of his courtiers, “ This is a good simple man, I have stroked cream on his mouth, and he will procure me a good number of voters, I warrant you !” This said, Row got off ; and overtaking Melville, asked him what had passed ? Melville told him all ; and said, the king is well disposed to the church, and intends to do her good by all his schemes. Row replied, “ the king looks upon you as a fool j and a knave ; and wants to use you as a coy- duck to draw in others and then told him what he had overheard. Melville suspect- | ing the truth of this report, Row offered to go with him, and avouch it to the king’s face. Accordingly, they went back to the palace, when Melville seeing Row 7 as for- ward to go in as he was, believed his report, and stopped him : and next day, | when the assembly proceeded to voting, j Melville having voted against what the king proposed, his majesty would not be- I lieve that such was his vote, till he, being | asked again, repeated it. | Again, he being to open the synod of Perth, in 1607, to which king James sent lord Scoon, captain of his guards, to force them to accept a constant moderator, Scoon sent notice to Row 7 , that if, in his preaching, he uttered ought against con- stant moderators , he should cause ten or twelve of his guards to discharge their culve- rins at his nose ; and, when he attended the sermon introductory to that synod, he stood up in a menacing posture to outbrave the preacher. But Row, no way dismayed, knowing what vices Scoon was chargeable with, particularly that he was a great glutton, drew his picture so like the life, and condemned what was culpable in it, with so much severity, that Scoon was forced to sit down, and even to cover his face. After which Row proceeded to prove that no constant moderator ought to be 269 ! — suffered in the church ; but knowing that | Scoon understood neither Latin nor Greek, he wisely avoided naming the words, con- stant moderator, in English, and always gave the Greek or Latin phrase. Sermon being ended, Scoon said to some of the ; nobles attending him, “ You see I have j scared the preacher from meddling with j the constant moderator ; but I wonder | who he spoke so much against by the name of prcestes ad vitam .” They told him that it was in Latin, the constant moderator, which so incensed him, that when Row proceeded to constitute the synod in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, Scoon said, “ The devil a Jesus is here and when he was calling over the roll to choose their moderator after the ancient form, Scoon would have pulled it from him; but Row, being a strong man, held off Scoon with one hand, and holding the synod roll in the other, called out the names of the members. After this, Row was put to the horn; and on the 11th June following, he and Henry Livingstone, the moderator, were summoned before the council, to answer for their proceedings at the synod. Living- stone compeared, and with great difficulty obtained the favour to be warded in his own parish. But Row was advised not to compear, unless the council would relax him from the horning, and make him free of the Scoon party, who had letters of caption to apprehend him, and commit him to Blackness. This was refused, and a search made, which obliged him to abscond and lurk among his friends for a considerable time. Lie was subjected to several other hard- ships during the remainder of his life, but still maintained that steady faithfulness and courage in the discharge of his duty, which is exemplified in the above instances, until the day of his death. Alexander Lindsay, bishop of Dunkeld, SCOTS WORTHIES. 270 and minister of St Madoes, in the presby- tery of Perth, was the patron of Forgan- ! denny, who, having been acquainted with Row from the time they had been at college, although they differed in opinion on some church matters, esteemed him for j his good qualities, and generously appointed his son William assistant and successor in that parish. The following interesting anecdote, in reference to this event is found in Row’s own manuscript. Lindsay said to him, “ Mr William, I do not come to this meet- ing as a bishop, but as your co -presbyter ; and I promise you I shall not ask your son any other questions than those which are contained in the Psalm-book,” that is, in the old form of admission, which to- gether with other forms and prayers, were prefixed to the metrical version of the Psalms. Row enjoyed the bishop’s friend- ship, and could therefore easily exonerate his conscience by refraining from calling him “ My lord accordingly when they went to dinner, to which the bishop came un- invited, Row, in the manner of the times, showed the behaviour of a rigid presby- terian. “ Mr Alexander,” said he, “ you know you and I were co-disciples at college, and Mr John Malcolm, now minister of Perth, was our master ; it is therefore fit that your master should sit at table above you. “ It is exceedingly right,” said the bishop ; and with a great deal of good humour, he gave place to Mr Malcolm. Indeed Lindsay, who was laird of Evelick, in the Carse of Gowrie, was in the last ! years of his life a presbyterian. | Row died in the beginning of October | 1634. William his son followed in the ! footsteps of his father ; for, in the time | of the civil war he was a zealous cove- | nanter, and attended the Scots army into j England as one of its chaplains. He died in 1660. If he had lived till the establish- ment of episcopacy in the following year, he would likely have been deprived for non-conformity * * The Rows have been a very distinguished family for the part they bore in the ecclesi- astical history of their country. James Row was for fifty-two years minister of Carnock in Fife. He partly wrote the history of the Kirk of Scotland, from the year 1558, to August 1637, finished by Mr John Row, late minister at Carnock. This is preserved in manuscript in the Advocate’s library, and is considered a valuable though rather prolix work. John Row, a younger brother, was at an early age appointed rector of the grammar school at Perth. He was one of the first Hebrew scholars of his day, an acquirement which was likewise common to his father, and grandfather. Through the influ- ence of the famous Andrew Cout, he received an appointment to be one of the ministers of Aberdeen. In 1643, he published a vocabulary of the Hebrew language, which he dedicated to his patrons, the town council of Aberdeen, from whom as their mark of respect, he received four hundred merks, Scots money. He, with Mr Cout, supported presby- terianism, and of course were obnoxious to those who favoured episcopacy. Row was chosen moderator of the provincial Assembly at Aberdeen, in 1644 ; in the year following, when Montrose approached at the head of the royalist forces, he, with Cout and other covenanters, sought refuge with the earl marischal in the castle of Dunnotter. He was one of the six clergymen chosen to act with the committee appointed by the Scottish parlia- ment to remonstrate against the contemplated murder of Charles I. He was chosen principal of king’s college Aberdeen in 1652; and, the eighth of October 1656 being appointed for a public thanks- giving, he preached at Westminster Abbey before the parliament, a sermon entitled “ Man’s duty in mag- nifying Gods work,” which was afterwards printed by their orders. Having published some works j reflecting on the royal family, they were burned J at the cross of Aberdeen by the hangman in the j year 1661 : at this time he resigned his office as principal. Hereafter this distinguished man sup- | ported himself, though scantily for some years, j by teaching a school in Aberdeen. His last days i were spent in the family of a son-in-law in the parish of Kinellar, eight miles from Aberdeen, and his mortal remains were interred in the churchyard j ! there. PATRICK SIMPSON 271 PATRICK SIMPSON. Patrick Simpson was the son of Andrew Simpson, minister of Dunbar, one of the first in the church of Scotland who boldly opposed popery, and instructed many, both of the clergy and laity, in the protestant faith. He was also one of five brothers, who, after the example of their father, devoted themselves to the church. After having finished his academical course, he spent a considerable time in retirement, which he employed in reading the Greek and Latin classics, the ancient Christian fathers, and the history of the primitive church. Being blamed by one of his friends for wasting so much time in the study of Pagan writers, he replied, that he intended to adorn the house of God with these Egyptian jewels. He was first ordained minister of Cra- mond,but was afterwards translated to Stir- ling, where he continued until his death. He was a faithful contender against the lordly encroachment of prelacy. In 1584, when there was an express charge given by the king to the ministers, either to acknow- ledge Patrick Adamson, as archbishop of St Andrews, or lose their benefices, Simpson opposed that order with all his power, although Adamson was his uncle by the mother’s side ; and when some of his brethren seemed willing to acquiesce in the king’s mandate, and subscribe their submission to Adamson, so far as it was agreeable to the word of God, he rebuked them sharply, saying, it would be no salvo to their consciences, seeing it was altogether absurd to subscribe an agreement with any human invention, when it was condemned by the word of God. A bishopric was offered him, besides a yearly pension from the king, in order to bring him over to his designs ; but he positively refused all, saying, that he regarded that preferment and profit as a bribe to enslave his con- j science, which was dearer to him than j anything whatever. He did not stop with this; but having occasion, in 15 98, to preach ! before the king, he publicly exhorted him to beware that he drew not the wrath of God upon himself, by patronizing a mani- fest breach of the divine laws. Immedi- ately after sermon, the king stood up, and charged him not to intermeddle in these matters. When the Assembly which was held at Aberdeen, in 1604, was condemned by the state, he in a very solemn manner de- nounced the judgment of God against all such as had been concerned in distress- ing, and imprisoning the ministers who maintained its lawfulness, and justified its proceedings ; and in 1606, when the parlia- ment met at Perth to repeal the statute which annexed the episcopal temporalities to the crown, and to restore the order of bishops to their ancient privileges, Simpson, seeing that no attention was paid to the remonstrances of the clergy, drew up a 272 SCOTS WORTHIES. protest, which was given in to each of the three estates, after having been most in- sultingly thrown out by the lords of articles. This important document, of which we subjoin a copy, was signed by forty-two ministers, and by him delivered into the hands of the earl of Dunbar. Protestation offered to the estates con- vened in Parliament at Perth , in the j beginning of July, anno 1606. “ The earnest desire of our hearts is to j be faithful, and in case we could have | been silent and unfaithful at this time, | when the undermined estate of Christ’s | kirk craveth a duty at our hands, we should j have locked up our hearts with patience j and our mouths with taciturnitv, rather J than to have impeached any with our ! admonition. But that which Christ com- ! mandeth, necessity urgeth, and duty wring- | eth out of us ; to be faithful office-bearers | in the kirk of God, no man can justly ! blame us, providing we hold ourselves I within the bounds of that Christian moder- ation, which followeth God, without injury I done to any man, especially these whom ! God hath lapped up within the skirts of j his own honourable styles and names, call- | ing them gods upon earth. “ Now, therefore, my lords, convened in this present parliament, under the most ! high and excellent majesty of our dread I sovereign, to your honours is our exhor- tation, that ye would endeavour with all ! singleness of heart, love and zeal, to ad- | vance the building of the house of God, j reserving always unto the Lord’s own hand, ■ that glory which he will communicate ; neither with man nor angel, viz., to pre- scribe from his holy mountain, a lively | pattern, according to which his ow 7 n taber- nacle should be formed. Remembering i always, that there is no absolute and un- | doubted authority in this w r orld, excepting the sovereign authority of Christ, the King, to whom it belongeth as properly to rule the kirk, according to the good pleasure of his own will, as it belongeth to him to save his kirk, by the merit of his own suf- ferings. All other authority is so in- trenched within the marches of divine com- mandment, that the least overpassing of the bounds set by God himself, bringeth men under the fearful expectation of temporal and eternal judgments. For this cause, my lords, let that authority of your meeting in this present parliament, be like the ocean, which, as it is the greatest of all other waters, so it containeth itself better within the coasts and limits appointed by God, ! than any rivers of fresh running waters have done. “ Next, remember that God hath sent you to be nursing fathers to the kirk, crav- , ing of your hands, that ye would maintain j and advance by your authority, that kirk wilich the Lord had fashioned, by the un- counterfeited w r ork of his own new creation, as the prophet speaketh, He hath made us> and not we ourselves ; not that ye should i presume to fashion and shape a new por- traiture of a kirk, and a new form of divine service, which God in his word hath not before allowed ; because, that were you to extend your authority farther than j the calling ye have of God doth permit, as namely, if ye should (as God forbid,) authorize the authority of bishops, and their pre-eminence above their brethren* ye should bring into the kirk of God the ordinance of man, and that thing which the experience of preceding ages hath testified to be the ground of great idleness, palpable ignorance, insufferable pride, pitiless tyranny, and shameless ambition, in the j kirk of God ; and, finally, to have been j the ground of that antichristian hierarchy, , which mounted up on the steps of pre- | eminence of bishops, until that man of; sin came forth, as the ripe fruit of man’s i PATRICK SIMPSON. 273 wisdom, whom God shall consume with the breath of his own mouth. Let the sword of God pierce that belly which brought forth such a monster ; and let the staff of God crush that egg which hath hatched such a cockatrice: and let not only that Roman antichrist be thrown down from the high bench of his usurped author- ity, but also let all the steps, whereby he mounted up to that unlawful pre-eminence, be cut down, and utterly abolished in this land. “ Above all things, my lords, beware to strive against God with an open and dis- played banner, by building up again the walls of Jericho, which the Lord hath not only cast down, but hath also laid them under a horrible interdiction and execra- tion : so that the building of them again must needs stand to greater charges to the builders, than the re-edifying of Jericho to Hiel the Bethelite, in the days of Ahab : for he had nothing but the interdiction of Joshua, and the curse pronounced, to stay him from the building again of Jericho ; but the noblemen and states of this realm, have the reverence of the oath of God, made by themselves, and subscribed 'with their own hands, in the Confession of Faith, called the king’s majesty’s, published oftener than once or twice, subscribed and sworn by his most excellent majesty, and by his highness, the nobility, estates, and whole subjects of this realm, to hold them back from setting up the dominion of bishops : because it is of verity, that they subscribed and swore the said Confession, containing, not only the maintenance of the true doc- trine, but also of the discipline professed within the realm of Scotland. “ Consider also, that this work cannot be set forward, without the great slander of the gospel, defamation of many preach- ers, and evident hurt and loss of the people’s souls, committed to our charge. For the people are brought almost to the like case, as they were in Syria, Arabia, and Egypt, about the year of our Lord 600, when the people were so shaken and brangled with contrary doctrines ; some affirming, and others denying the opinion of Eutychus, that in the end they lost all assured per- suasion of true religion ; and within short time thereafter, did cast the gates of their hearts open to the peril ; to receive that vile and blasphemous doctrine of Mahomet ; even so the people in this land are cast into such admiration, to hear the preachers who damned so openly this stately pre-eminence of bishops, and then, within a few years after, accept the same dignity, pomp, and superiority, in their own persons, which they before had damned in others, that the people know not what way to incline, and in the end will become so doubtful, in matters of religion and doctrine, that their hearts will be like an open tavern, patent to every guest that chooses to come in. “We beseech your honours to ponder this in the balance of a godly and prudent mind, and suffer not the gospel to be slandered by the behaviour of a few preach- ers, of whom we are bold to affirm, that, if they go forward in this defection, not only abusing and appropriating the name of bishops to themselves, which is common to all the pastors of God’s kirk, but also tak- ing upon themselves such offices, that ! carry with them the ordinary charge of governing the civil affairs of the country, neglecting their flocks, and seeking to sub- ■ ordinate their brethren to their jurisdiction ; j if any of them, we say, be found to step forward in this cause of defection, they are more worthy as rotten members, to be cut off from the body of Christ, than to have superiority and dominion over their ! brethren within the kirk of God. “ This pre-eminence of bishops is that Dagon, which once already fell before the ark of God in this land, and no band of 2 M SCOTS WORTHIES. 274 iron shall be able to hold him up again. This is that pattern of that altar brought from Damascus, but not showed to Moses in the mountain; and therefore it shall fare with it, as it did with that altar of Damas- cus, it came last into the temple and went first out. Likewise the institution of Christ was anterior to this pre-eminence of bishops, and shall consist and stand within the house of God, when this new fashion of the altar shall go to the door. “ Remember, my lords, that in times past your authority was for Christ and not against him. Ye followed the light of God, and strived not against it ; and, like a child in the mother’s hand, ye said to | Christ : — Draw us after thee. God forbid that ye should now leave off, and fall away from your former reverence borne to Christ, in presuming to lead him whom the Father hath appointed to be leader of you. And far less to trail the holy ordinances of Christ, ! by the cords of your authority, at the heels of the ordinances of men. “ And albeit your honours have no such intention to do anything which may impair the honour of Christ’s kingdom; yet re- member, that spiritual darkness, flowing from a very small beginning, doth so insinuate, and thrust itself into the house of God, as men can hardly discern by what secret means the light was dimmed, and darkness creeping in, got the upper hand ; and in the end, at unawares, all was in- volved in a misty cloud of horrible apostasy. “ And lest any should think this our | admonition out of time, in so far it is statute j and ordained already by his majesty, w r ith ! advice of his estates in parliament, that all i , ministers, provided to prelacies, should have ! vote in parliament ; as likewise, the Gen- I eral Assembly (his majesty being present J | thereat,) hath found the same lawful and expedient, we would humbly ’and earnestly beseech all such to consider, | “ First , That the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the office-bearers and laws thereof, ' neither should nor can suffer any deroga- j tion, addition, diminution, or alteration, i besides the prescript of his holy word, by any inventions or doings of men, civil or j ecclesiastical. And we are able, by the j grace of God, and will offer ourselves to prove that this bishoprick to be erected, is against the word of God, the ancient fathers, and canons of the kirk, the modern most learned and godly divines, the doctrine and constitution of the kirk of Scotland since the first reformation of religion within the , same country, the laws of the realm, ra- I tifying the government of the kirk by the j general and provincial assemblies, presby- j teries, and sessions, also against the weal and honour of the king’s most excellent ! majesty, the weal and honour of the realm, and quietness thereof; the established estate and weal of the kirk, in the doctrine, discipline, and patrimony thereof ; the weal and honour of your lordships, the most ancient estate of this realm; and finally, against the weal of all, and every one, the , good subjects thereof, in soul, body, and substance. “ Next, That the act of parliament, granting vote in parliament to ministers, is with a special provision, that nothing 1 thereby be derogatory or prejudicial to the j present established discipline of the kirk, and jurisdiction thereof, in general and ! synodical assemblies, presbyteries, and sessions. “ Thirdly , and lastly , The General j Assembly (his majesty sitting, voting, and j consenting therein), fearing the corruption j of that office, hath circumscribed and j bounded the same with a number of cau- tions ; all which, together with such others as shall be concluded upon by the Assembly, were thought expedient to be inserted in j the body of the act of parliament, as most necessary and substantial parts of the same. And the said Assembly hath not agreed to PATRICK SIMPSON. 275 give thereunto the name of bishops, for fear of importing the old corruption, pomp, I and tyranny, of papal bishops, hut ordained I I them to be called commissioners for the | kirk to vote in parliament. And it is of verity, that according to these cautions, neither have these men, now called bishops, entered to that office of commissionary to vote in parliament, neither since their in- going have they behaved themselves there- in. And therefore, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall hold the great court of parliament to judge both the quick and the dead, at his glorious manifestation ; and in the name of his kirk in general, so ! happily and well established within this realm, and whereof the said realm hath reaped the comfortable peace and unity, free from heresy, schism, and dissension, these forty-six years bypast ; also in name of our presbyteries, from which we have our commission ; and in our name, office- bearers and pastors within the same, for discharging of our necessary duty, and dis- burdening of our consciences in particular, we except and protest against the said bishoprick, and bishops, and the erection, or confirmation, or ratification thereof, at this present parliament ; most humbly craving that this our protestation may be admitted by your honours, and registered among the statutes and acts of the same, in case (as God forbid,) these bishopricks be erected, ratified, or confirmed therein.” The above protestation was subscribed by the following ministers : — Messrs An- drew Melvill, James Melvill, William Scott, James Ross, John Carmichael, John Gillespie, William Erskine, Colin Campbell, James Muirhead, John Mit- j chell, John Davidson, John Colden, John Abernethy, James Davidson, Adam Bannatyne, John Row, William Buchanan, John Kennedy, John Ogilvie, John Scrim- I geour, John Malcolm, James Burden, Isaac Blackfoord, Isaac Strachan, James Row, William Row, Robert Mercer, Edmund Myles, John French, Patrick Simpson, John Dykes, William Young, William Cooper, William Keith, Hugh Duncan, James Mercer, Robert Colvill, William Hogg, Robert Wallace, David Barclay, John Weemes, William Cranston. Simpson was not more distinguished for zeal in the cause of Christ, than for piety and an exemplary life, which had a happy effect upon the people with whom he stood connected. He was in a very eminent degree blessed with the spirit and return of prayer ; and the following fact, attested by old Mr Row of Carnock, shows how much of the divine countenance he had in this duty : — His wife, Martha Barron, a woman of singular piety, fell sick; and under her indisposition, was strongly as- saulted by the common enemy of salvation, suggesting to her that she should be de- livered up to him. This soon brought her into a very uneasy state of mind, which continued for some time increasing; and she frequently broke forth into very dread- ful expressions. — Being in one of these fits of despair, one Sabbath morning, when her husband was going to preach, he was ex- ceedingly troubled at her condition, and went to prayer, which she took no notice of. After he had done, he turned to the company present, and said, that they who had been witnesses to that sad hour, should yet see a gracious work of God on her, and that the devil’s malice against that poor woman should have a shameful foil. Her perturbation of mind continued for some days after. Unwearied in his supplications in her behalf, his mind became gradually more and more confident that they would be graciously answered ; when on the Tues- day morning preceding her death, upon his return from secret prayer, he said to the people who were in the chamber:— SCOTS WORTHIES. 276 “ Be of good comfort, for I am sure, that ere ten hours of the day, that brand shall j be plucked out of the fire after which he went to prayer, at his wife’s bedside. She continued for some time quiet, but, upon his mentioning Jacob wrestling with God, she sat up in the bed, drew the cur- tain aside, and said, “ Thou art this day ! a Jacob, who hast wrestled and hast pre- j vailed : and now God hath made good his ; word, which he spoke this morning to you, i for I am plucked out of the hands of Satan, ; and he shall have no power over me.” This ! interruption made him silent for a little ; ; but afterwards with great melting of heart, ; he proceeded in prayer, and magnified the I riches of grace towards him. From that I hour she continued to utter nothing but the l language of joy and comfort, until her death, | which was on Friday following, August I 13th, 1601. He lived for several years after this, fervent and faithful in the w T ork of the ministry. In 1608, when the bishops and some commissioners convened in the palace of Falkland, for the purpose of coming to | an agreement respecting the affairs of the church, towards the summoning of a Gen- j eral Assembly, several ministers assembled also in the kirk of the town, and chose him for their moderator; after which, they spent some time in prayer, and tasted some of the comfort of their former meetings. They then agreed upon certain articles for con- cord and peace to be given in to the bishops. This Simpson and some others did in the name of the rest ; but the bishops shifted | them off to the next Assembly, and in the | i mean time took all possible precautions to \ 1 strengthen their own party, which they ef- fected. In 1610, the noblemen and bishops came to Stirling, after dissolving the Assembly. In preaching before them, Simpson openly charged the bishops with perjury and gross defection. They hesitated for some time, whether they should accuse him or com- pound the matter : but, after deliberation, they dropt the affair altogether for-the pre- sent. There is no reason to doubt but he would have been subjected to the same sufferings with many others of his brethren, had he lived ; but before the copestone was laid on prelacy in Scotland, he had entered into the joy of his Lord. In March 1618, which was about four months before the Assembly at Perth, in which the five articles were agreed upon, he said, that that month should put an end to all his troubles ; and he died accordingly about the end of it, blessing the Lord, that he had not been perverted by the sinful courses of these times ; and saying, As the Lord had said to Elijah in the wilderness, so in some respects, he had dealt with him all the days of his life. He wrote a history of the Church, for the space of about ten centuries ; besides some other little tracts, and a History of the Councils of the Church. Upon some of his books he had wTitten, “ Remember, O my soul, and never forget the 9th of August, what consolation the Lord gave thee, and how he performed what he spake according to Zechariah , — Is not this a brand pluck- | ed out of the fire ?”* I i * Zech. iii. 2. ANDREW DUNCAN. I | I 277 ANDREW DUNCAN. Soon after the illustrious Melville was made principal of the new college of St | Andrews, Andrew Duncan, the subject of this memoir, became a keen opponent of what were then thought his unwarrantable strictures on the philosophy of Aristotle. Duncan was at that time a Regent in St Leonard’s college, who, in common with j other members of the university, regarded ! the novel views of the principal as calculated | to destroy the credit of his teaching. But ! his prejudices against Melville soon subsided, and from being an adversary he became an ! ardent admirer and a steady friend. I He was afterwards settled minister at | Crail, in Fife, and became a sufferer for | the presbyterian cause. He was present | at the famous Assembly held at Aber- j deen in 1605 ; and was the following year ! along with other five ministers, tried and | ; found guilty of high treason because they ; had attended said Assembly. After hav- iing been imprisoned for fourteen months in Blackness castle, he was with his ] five brethren banished to France. On ! making some acknowledgments to the j king and council, he was allowed to re- turn to his native land about six years thereafter. In 1619, he was summoned before the high commission court, at St Andrews, on account of his faithfulness in opposing the five articles of Perth. At his first com- pearance he declined their authority ; and at the second, adhering to his former declina- ture, the high commission court passed sen- tence of deposition against him ; and ordain- ed him to enter himself in ward at Dundee. After sentence was pronounced, he gave in a protestation, which was as follows: “ Now seeing I have done nothing of this business, whereof I have been accused by you, but have been serving Jesus Christ, my Master, in rebuking vice, in simplicity and righteousness of heart, I protest, seeing ye have done me wrong, for a remedy at God’s hand, the righteous judge ; and sum- mon you before his dreadful judgment-seat, to be censured and punished for such un- righteous dealings, at such a time as his majesty shall think expedient ; and in the mean time decline this your judgment simpliciter, now as before, and appeal to the ordinary Assembly of the church, for reasons before produced in writ. Pity yourselves for the Lord’s sake ; lose not your own dear souls, I beseech you, for Esau’s pottage : remember Balaam, who was cast away by the deceit of the wages of unrighteousness ; forget not how miser- able Judas was, who lost himself for a trifle of money, that never did him good. Better be pined to death by hunger, than for a little pittance of the earth, to perish for ever, and never be recovered, so long as the days of heaven shall last, and the years of eternity shall endure. Why would ye distress your own brethren, sons and ser- vants of the Lord Jesus ? This is not the doing of the shepherds of the flock of SCOTS WORTHIES. 278 Christ : if ye will not regard your souls [ When the bishop of St Andrews had nor consciences, look, I beseech you, to read a few lines of this admonition, he your fame : why will ye be miserable both cast it from him ; the bishop of Dunblane in this life, and in the life to come !” took it up, and reading it, said, he calls us ["View of Dunblane Cathedral, 1S20J Esaus, Balaams, and Judases. “ Not so,” said Duncan, “ read again, beware that ye j ! be not like them.” In the space of a month after, he w T as deposed for non-con- formity.* In July 1621, he presented a large sup- plication, in name of himself, and some of his faithful brethren, who had been excluded | * Next to the satisfaction that flows to the mind of the falsely accused, from the immediate approval of God and his own conscience, must be that result- ing from an appeal to the great day ; for then every ; unjust judgment shall be reversed, and righteous- | ness rewarded. But while the solemn appeal of an unjustly condemned man is consolatory to him- self, how ought it to make the heart of an unright- eous judge quail ! Surely then the bishops of St Andrews and Dunblane had manifested more wisdom, had they not treated Andrew Duncan’s admonition with contempt. Let judges, whether in civil or J sacred matters always feel, when they give judgment, ! i that the rights of the poorest will be vindicated in i the judgment of the great day. from the General Assembly, to Sir George Hay, clerk register ; on which account he was in a few days after apprehended by the captain of the guard, and brought before the council, who accused him of breaking ward, after he had been suspended and con- fined to Dundee, for having preached the week before at Grail. Duncan denied that he had been put to the horn ; and as for breaking ward, he said, that for the sake of obedience, he staid at Dundee, separated from a wife and six children for half a year, and that the winter approaching had forced him to go home. In the end, he requested them not to imprison him on his own charges; but the sentence had been re- solved upon before he compeared. He i was conveyed next day to Blackness castle, where lie remained until October there- after, when he was again brought before the council, and by them confined to Kil- ANDREW DUNCAN. rennie, a parish adjacent to his own, upon his own charges. Upon another occasion of the same | nature, this worthy man was banished out of the kingdom, and went to settle at Ber- wick ; but having several children, and his wife again near her confinement, they { were reduced to great hardships, being | obliged to part with their servant, having ! scarcely subsistence sufficient for them- selves. One night in particular, the chil- | dren asking for bread, and there being none J to give them, they cried very sore : the i mother was likewise much depressed in ; spirit; the minister himself had recourse sometimes to prayer; and in the intervals endeavoured to cherish his wife’s hope, and please the children, and at last got them to bed ; but she continued to mourn heavily. He exhorted her to wait patiently upon God, who was now trying them, but would | undoubtedly provide for them ; and added, j that if the Lord should rain down bread from heaven, they should not want. This confidence was the more remarkable, be- cause they had neither friend nor acquain- tance in that place to whom they could make their case known. And yet before morning, a man brought them a sackful of provision, and went off, without telling | them from whence it came, though en- | treated to do so. When the father opened the sack he found in it a bag with twenty pounds Scots, two loaves of bread, a bag of fiour, another of barley, and such like pro- | visions ; and having brought the whole to his wife, he said, “ See what a good Master ! I serve.” After this she hired a servant again, but was soon reduced to a new ex- tremity: the pains of childbearing came upon her before she could make any pro- vision for her delivery; but Providence interposed in their behalf at this time also. While she travailed in the night season, and the good man knew not where to apply for a midwife, a gentlewoman came early in 279 — I the morning riding to the door, and having j sent her servant back with the horse, with orders when to return, she went in, and asked the maid of the house, how her mis- tress was, and desired access to her, which she obtained. She first ordered a good fire i to be made, then desired Mrs Duncan to rise, and without any other assistance than the house afforded, she delivered her, and afterwards accommodated Mrs Duncan and the child with abundance of very fine linen which she had brought along with her. She gave her likewise a box, containing some necessary cordials, and five pieces of gold, bidding them both be of good comfort, for they should not want. After which she rode away on the horse, which had by this time returned for her ; but would not ! tell her name, nor from whence she came. 1 Thus did God take his own servant under his immediate care and providence, when men had wrongfully excluded him from enjoying his worldly comforts. He con- tinued zealous and steadfast in the faith, enduring his severe trials with the most exemplary resignation ; and to the end of his life, his conduct was uniform with the circumstances of this brief narrative. TESTIMONY OF ANDREW DUNCAN. “ I Andrew Duncan, a sinful wight, Christ’s unworthy minister in his glorious > gospel, being sickly and weak, worn out with years, and heaviness of heart in this pilgrimage ; and being now weary of this loathsome prison, this body of death, be- cause of sin ; and having received sundry advertisements and summonses from my Master to flit out of this uncouth country, the region of death, home to my native land ; and now sitting upon the prison-door threshold, ready to obey, waiting till the sad messenger be sent to convey me home to that glorious palace, even the heavenly Jerusalem, that I may enter into possession of my heritage, even that glorious kingdom in eternity, which Christ came down from heaven to conquer for me ; and then, went up to prepare and possess it in my name, as my attorney, until it please his Majesty to take me thither, that I may in my own person possess it, I proceed to set down the declaration of my latter will, concerning those things which God hath lent me in this world ; in manner following : First, as touching myself, body and soul : — my soul I leave to Christ Jesus, who gave it, and when it was lost, redeemed it, that he may send his holy angels to transport it to the bosom of Abraham, there to enjoy all happiness and contentment; — and as for this frail body, I commend it to the grave, there to sleep and rest, as in a sweet bed, until the day of refreshment, when it shall be reunited to the soul, and shall he set down at the table with the holy patriarchs, prophets, and apostles ; yea, shall be placed on the throne with Christ, and get the crown of glory on my head. As for the children whom God hath given me, (for which I thank Him,) I leave them to his providence, to be governed and cared for by him, beseeching Him to be the tutor, curator, and agent, in all their adoes, yea, j and a father ; and that he would lead them by his gracious Spirit, through this evil world : that they may be profitable instru- ments, both in kirk and commonwealth, to set out his glory ; beseeching them on the j j other part, (as they would have God’s bless- j | ing, and mine in all their affairs,) to set Him j before their eyes, and to walk in his ways, j j living peaceably in his fear, in all humility j and meekness, with all those they have ado with ; holding their course to heaven, and j comforting themselves with the glorious j and fair-to-look-at heritage, which Christ hath conquered for them, and for all that i j love him. Under God, I leave John Dun- j can, my eldest son, to be tutor to my youngest daughter, Bessie Duncan, his youngest sister, to take a care of her, and j j to see that all turns go right, touching her i person and gear. For executors, I leave | my three sons, John, William, and David, j to do my turns after me, and to put in |j practice my directions ; requesting them to be good, and comfortable to their sisters, j but chiefly to the two that are at home, as they would have God’s blessing and mine. Concerning my temporal goods, the bag- gage and blathrie of the earth, as I have gotten them in the world from God’s liberal hand, so I leave them behind me in the world ; giving most humble and hearty J thanks unto my heavenly Father for so long and comfortable loan of the same.” ! | JOHN SCRIMGEOUR. 281 1 JOHN SCRIMGEOUR. Nothing seems to be known of the paren- tage and birth of this godly man. The earliest authentic notice we have of him, is, that he was minister of Kinghorn, in Fife, and that, in 1590, John Scrimgeour was the person selected to attend king James as chaplain, in his voyage to Den- mark to bring home his queen. He was j afterwards concerned in several important affairs of the church, until that fatal year 1618, when the five articles of Perth were agreed on in an Assembly held at that place. He attended at this Assembly and gave in some proposals, upon being, along with others of his faithful brethren, ex- cluded from having a vote, by the prevail- ing party of that Assembly. In 1620, he was, with some others, sum- moned before the high commission court, for not preaching upon holidays, and not administering the communion conform to the agreement at Perth ; with certification, if this were proved, that he should be de- prived of exercising the functions of a min- ister in all time coming. But there being none present on the day appointed, except the bishops of St Andrews, Glasgow^, and the Isles, and Walter Whiteford, they were dismissed at that time ; but were summoned apud acta to compear again on the 1st of March, and the bishops caused the clerk to exact their consent to depriva- tion, in case they did not compear against that day. Nevertheless, they all protested with one voice, that they would never wil- lingly renounce their ministry ; and such was the resolution and courage of Scrim- geour, that, notwithstanding all the threat- enings of the bishops, he celebrated the com- munion conform to the ancient practice of the church, a few days thereafter. On the day appointed for their next com- j pearance, the bishops of St Andrews, Dun- i keld, Galloway, the Isles, Dunblane, Hewison commissary of Edinburgh, and Dr Blair, being assembled in the bishop of St Andrews’ lodging in Edinburgh, John Scrimgeour was again called upon to answer. The bishop of St Andrews alleged against him, that he had promised either to conform or quit his ministry, as the act at his last compearance on January 26th re- ported ; to which he replied, “ I am sore straitened, I never saw reason to conform ; and as for my ministry, it was not mine, and so I could not quit it.” After long reasoning betwixt him and the bishops con- cerning church policy and the keeping of holidays, he was removed for a little. Being called in again, the bishop of St Andrews said to him, “ You are deprived of all func- tion within the kirk, and ordained within six days to enter in wayd at Dundee.” “ It is a very summary and peremptory sentence,” said Scrimgeour, “ ye might have been advised better, and first have heard what I would have said.” “ You shall be heard,” said the bishop. This brought on some further reasoning, in the course of which Scrimgeour gave a faithful testimony t j SCOTS WORTHIES. 282 against the king’s supremacy over the church, and, among other things, said, I have had opportunity to reason with the king himself on this subject, and have told him, that Christ was the Sovereign, and only Director of his house ; and that his majesty was subject to him. I have had occasion to tell other men’s matters to the king, and could have truly claimed this great preferment.” “ I tell you, John,” said the bishop of St Andrews, “ that the king is pope, and shall be so now.” He replied, “ that is an evil style you give him,” and then gave in his reasons in writ, which they read at leisure. After- wards the bishop of St Andrews said to him, “ take up your reasons again ; if you will not conform I cannot help it; the king must be obeyed, the Lords have given sentence, and mil stand to it.” “Ye can- not deprive me of my ministry,” said Scrimgeour ; “ I received it not from you ; I received it from the whole synod of Fife, and, for anything ye do, I will never think myself deposed.” The bishop of St Andrews replied, “ You are deprived only of the pre- sent exercise of it.” Then he presented the following protestation : “ I protest be- fore the Lord Jesus, that I get manifest wrong : my reasons and allegations are not considered and answered. I obtest you to answer at his glorious appearance, for this and such dealings ; and protest, that my cause should have been heard as I pled, and still plead and challenge. I likewise appeal to the Lord Jesus, his eternal Word; to the king, my dread sovereign, ! his law, to the constitution of this kirk and kingdom, to the councils and assemblies i of both ; and protest, that I stand minister of the evangel, and only by violence I am thrust from the same.” “ You must obey the sentence,” said the bishop of St Andrews. He answered, “ that Dundee was far off, and he was not able for far 1 1 journeys, as phvsicians can witness.” And * he added, “ little know ye what is in my purse.” “ Then where will you choose the place of your confinement,” said the bishop ? He answered, “ at a little room of my own, called Bowhill, in the parish of Auehterderran.” Then said the bishop, “ write at Bowhill, during the king’s plea- sure.” Thus this worthy servant of Christ lived the rest of his days in Auehterderran. In his old age he was grievously afflicted with the stone. He said to a godly min- ister who went to see him before his death, “ I have been a rude stunkard all my life, and now by this pain the Lord is humbling me to make me a lamb before he take me j to himself.”* He was a man somewhat negligent in his clothing, and inelegant in some of his j expressions and behaviour ; and yet was a j very loving tender-hearted man ; of a deep I natural judgment; and very learned, especi- ! ally in Hebrew. He often wished that most ! books were burnt, except the Bible and ;j some short notes thereon. He had a pe- ; j culiar talent for comforting the dejected. He used a very familiar, but pressing man- | [ ner of preaching. He was also an eminent j wrestler with God, and had more than ordinary fervency and success in that exer- cise, as appears from the following instances. When minister of Kinghorn, there was a certain godly woman under his charge, who fell sick of a very lingering disease, and was all the while assaulted with strong temptations, leading her to think * While the above conversation between the bishop and Scrimgeour is an illustration of the Erastian nature of the government, it shows the minister of Christ in his true dignity. From his answers to the bishops it is evident Scrimgeour did not follow his holy vocation for filthy lucre’s , j sake ; that he understood who was his spiritual , ; master, and was faithful in his service. Before his tyrannic judges he nobly supported the spiritual headship of Christ, in opposition to the king’s supremacy, and that of the bishops , — “ holding fast the form of sound words” in the face of their threats and punishments. JOHN WELCH. 283 that she was a castaway, notwithstanding that her whole conversation had put the reality of grace in her beyond a doubt. He often visited her while in this deep exercise, but her trouble and terror still remained. As her dissolution drew on, her spiritual trouble increased. He went with two of his elders to her, and began first, in their presence to comfort her, and pray with her ; but she still grew worse. He ordered his elders to pray, and after- wards prayed himself ; but no relief came. Then sitting pensive for a little space, he thus broke silence : “ What is this ! Our laying grounds of comfort before her will not do : prayer will not do. We must try another remedy. Sure I am, this is a daughter of Abraham, — sure I am, she I hath sent for me, — and therefore, in the name of God, the Father of our Lord Jesus, | who sent him to redeem sinners ; in the name of Jesus Christ, who obeyed the Father, and came to save us ; in the name of the Holy and Blessed Spirit, our Quickener and Sanctifier — I, the elder, command thee a daughter of Abraham, to be loosed from these bonds !” And im- mediately peace and joy ensued. Scrimgeour had several friends and chil- dren taken away by death ; and his only daughter who at that time survived, and whom he dearly loved, being seized with the king’s evil, by which she was reduced to the very point of death, so that he was called up to see her die ; and finding her in this condition, he went out to the fields, (as he himself told,) in the night time, in great grief and anxiety, and began to ex- postulate with the Lord, with such expres- sions as, for all the world, he durst not again utter. In a fit of displeasure, he said, “ Thou, O Lord, knowest that I have I been serving thee in the uprightness of my I heart, according to my power and measure ; | nor have I stood in awe to declare thy i mind even unto the greatest in the time, and thou seest that I take pleasure in this child. O that I could obtain such a thing at thy hand as to spare her !” And being in great agony of spirit, at last it was said to him from the Lord, “ I have heard thee at this time, but use not the like boldness in time coming, for such particulars.” When he came home the child was re- covered, and, sitting up in the bed, took j some meat : and when he looked at her | arm, it was perfectly whole. JOHN WELCH. John Welch was by birth a gentleman, his father being laird of Collieston, in Nithsdale, an estate rather competent than large. He was born about the year 1570, and throughout life was a rich instance of! divine grace and mercy, although with him j the night went before the day. He was a j very irregular, hopeless boy, frequently SCOTS WORTHIES. 284 running away from school, and playing truant ; but, after he had past his grammar, and was come to he an adult, he left his studies, and his father’s house, and went and joined himself to the thieves on the English border, who lived by robbing the two nations, and amongst them he staid till he wore out a suit of clothes. When he came to be clothed only with rags, the prodigal’s misery brought him to the pro- digal’s resolution : then he resolved to re- turn to his father’s house, but durst not venture till he should interpose a reconciler. In his return homeward, he took Dumfries ! in his way, where he had an aunt, one j Agnes Forsyth, and with her he spent some days, earnestly entreating her to reconcile him to his father. While he remained in her house his father came providentially to visit her; and after they had talked a while, she asked him, whether he ever j heard any word of his son John ? To this he replied with great grief, “ O cruel woman, how can you name him to me ! — the first news I expect to hear of him is, that he is hanged for a thief.” She answered, “many a profligate boy had become a virtuous man,” and thus com- forted him. He insisted however, upon his sad complaint ; but asked, whether she knew if his lost son was yet alive ! She i answered, “ Yes ; and hoped he should prove a better man than he had been a boy and with that she called upon him to come to his father. He came weeping, and kneeled, beseeching his father, for Christ’s sake, to pardon his misbehaviour, en- gaging heartily to be a new man. His father reproached and threatened him. Yet at length, by his tears, and Mrs For- syth’s importunities, he was persuaded to a j reconciliation. The boy entreated his father i to send him to college, and there to try his i behaviour ; and if ever thereafter he should break off, he said, he should be content that his father should disclaim him for ever. His father therefore took him home, and put him to college, and there he became a diligent student, of great expectation, and showed himself a sincere convert ; and so he pro- ceeded to the ministry. His first settlement was at Selkirk, while he was yet very young, and the country very uncivilized. While there, his ministry was rather admired by some, than received by many ; for he was always attended with the prophet’s shadow, — the hatred of the wicked: yea, even the ministers of that country were more ready to pick a quarrel with his person, than to follow his doctrine, as appears to this day in their synodical records, where we find he had many to censure, and few to defend him ; yet it was thought his ministry in that place was not without fruit, though his stay was but short. Being unmarried, he lodged in the house of one Mitchelhill, and took a young boy of his to be his bedfellow, who to his dying day retained the highest respect for Welch and his ministry, from the deep impression then made upon his mind though but a child. Welch’s custom was, when he went to bed at night, to lay a Scots plaid above his bed- clothes, that when he rose to his night prayers, he might cover himself therewith ; for, from the beginning of his ministry till his death, he reckoned the day ill spent, if he stayed not seven or eight hours in prayer: and this the boy did not forget even to old age. An old man of the name of Ewart, in Selkirk, who remembered Welch’s being in that place, said, he was a type of Christ ; an expression more magnificent than proper; for his meaning was, that in heart and life he imitated Christ, as indeed in many things he did. He also said that his custom was to preach publicly once every day, and to spend his whole time in spiritual exercises ; that some in that place waited j well upon his ministry, with great ten- ; derness ; but that he was constrained to ■ JOHN WELCH. leave that place, because of the malice of the wicked. The special cause of his departure was, the enmity of a profane gentleman in the country (Scott of Headschaw, whose family is now extinct), who, either because Welch had reproved him, or merely from malig- nity, treated him most unworthily. Among the rest of the injuries he did him, the following is one of great cruelty. That gentleman, either with his own hand, or by those of his servants, cut off the rumps of Welch’s two horses, in consequence of which they both died. Such base usage as this persuaded him to listen to a call to the ministry at Kirkcudbright, which was his next station. When about to leave Selkirk, he could not find a man in all the town to transport his furniture, except one Ewart, who was at that time a poor young man, but master of two horses, with which he transported Welch’s goods, and so left him. As he took his leave, Welch gave him his blessing, and a piece of gold for a token, exhorting him to fear God, and promised he should never want ; which saying Providence made good through the whole course of the man’s life, as was observed by all his neighbours.* * What a libel upon the Selkirk of that period ! We need not say, that the modern Selkirk and the delightful rural district around, though occupying j the same situation, and presenting the same features ! of natural scenery as before, affords as striking a moral contrast as can well be imagined or desired. The hills and dales of that delightful country are as- sociated now with emotions and feelings very different from those which they formerly had a tendency to awaken. The days of feudalism and barbaric rudeness are long since gone, and in no part of Scotland do we meet with finer specimens of household godliness, and its uniform attendant, disinterested hospitality, than in the classic and re- ligious county of Selkirk. Although the conduct of these people to Welch while he resided amongst them, as their minister, and especially the almost incredible heartlessness which they evinced on his departure, appear to for- 285 At Kirkcudbright he stayed not long: but there he reaped a harvest of converts which subsisted long after his departure, and were part of Samuel Rutherford’s flock, though not his parish, while he was minister at Anworth : yet when his call to Ayr came to him, the people of the parish of Kirkcudbright never offered to detain him ; so his translation thither was the more easy. While he was at Kirkcudbright, he met with a young man in scarlet and silver lace, whose name was Robert Glendinning, newly returned from his travels ; whom he very much surprised by telling him, he behoved to change his garb, and way of life, and betake himself to his studies, for he should be his successor in the ministry at Kirkcudbright. This accordingly came to pass some time after. Welch was translated to Ayr in 1590. and there he continued till he was ban- ished, in the year 1606. In that place he had a very hard beginning but a very sweet end ; for when he came first to the town, the country was so wicked, and the hatred of god- liness so great, that there could not one in all the town be found, who would let him a house to dwell in. He was therefore con- strained to accommodate himself the best way he could in a part of a gentleman’s house whose name was John Stuart, mer- chant, and some time provost of Ayr, an emi- nent Christian, and great assistant of Welch. When he first took up liis residence in that town, it was so divided into factions, and disturbed with bloody conflicts, that bid the supposition, may we not be permitted to cherish the belief that his labours might not have been altogether in vain ; and that the same Provi- dence who afterwards raised up for them a succes- sion of eminent spiritual labourers, the Bostons, the Davidsons, and the Lawsons, prepared in some measure by the previous labours of Welch, the moral soil for the reception of that good seed which these distinguished men were afterwards j instrumental in sowing ? a man could hardly walk the streets with safety. He therefore made it his first un- dertaking, to remove these bloody quarrel- lings, but he found it a very difficult work : such, however, was his earnestness to pur- sue his design, that many times he would rush betwixt two parties of men fighting, even in the midst of blood and wounds. Upon these occasions he used to cover his head with a helmet before he went to separate the combatants, but would never use a sword, that they might see he came for peace, and not for war ; and thus, by little and little, he made the town a peace- able habitation. His manner was, after he had ended a skirmish amongst neighbours, and recon- ciled bitter enemies, to cause a table to be covered upon the street, to which he brought the enemies together ; and, beginning with prayer, he persuaded them to profess them- selves friends, and to eat and drink together; concluding the work by singing a psalm. After these rude people began to observe his example, and to listen to his heavenly doctrine, he rose quickly to that respect amongst them, that he became not only a necessary counsellor, without whose advice they would do nothing, but an example of imitation. He gave himself wholly to ministerial exercises, preaching once every day, and praying the third part of his time. He was unwearied in his studies : as a proof of this, it was found among his papers, that he had abridged Suarez’s Metaphysics,* when well stricken in years. By all which it appears, * Had Dr M‘Crie not vindicated the presby- terian ministers of this and the immediately suc- ceeding age, from the charge of being illiterate preferred against them by some distinguished accusers, the instance before us might almost have disposed us to take up the subject ourselves. Yet, as it is, we cannot help observing that Welch study- ing metaphysics, and that too, at an advanced period of his life, gives an additional interest to his history, while at the same time we find him only that he was not only a man of great dili- gence, but also of a strong and robust natural constitution ; otherwise he had never endured the fatigue. Sometimes before he went to sermon, he would send for his elders, and tell them he was afraid to go to church, because he found himself sore deserted ; and then desiring one or more of them to pray, he would venture to the pulpit. But it was observed, that this humbling exercise used ordinarily to be followed with extraordinary | assistance, — so near neighbours often are contrary dispositions and frames. He would frequently retire to the church of j Ayr, which was at some distance from the town, and there spend the whole night j in prayer ; for he used to allow his affec- j tions full expression, and prayed not only with an audible, but sometimes a loud voice. There was in Ayr, at the time he came to it, an aged man, a minister of the town, j called Porterfield, who was judged no bad j man for his personal inclinations, but so easy in his disposition, that he used often to go too great a length with his neighbours in many improper practices ; amongst the rest, he used to go to the bow-butts and archery on the Sabbath afternoon, to Welch’s great dissatisfaction ; and the method he took to reclaim him was, not by bitter severity, but gentle policy. He, together with John Stuart, and Hugh Kennedy, his intimate friends, used to spend the Sabbath afternoon in religious conference and prayer ; and to this exercise they invited Porterfield, which he could not refuse, — by these means he was not only diverted from his former sinful practice, but likewise brought to a more watchful and edifying behaviour in his course of life. During his residence at Ayr, the Lord’s day was greatly profaned at a gentleman’s acting in consistency with the character assigned to j him and his persecuted brethren, by the biographer j ' of Knox. JOHN WELCH. house about eight miles distant, by reason of a great confluence of people playing at football, and other pastimes. After writ- ing several times to him to suppress this profanation at his house, Welch came one | day to his gate, and called him out to tell I him, that he had a message from God to j him ; that because he had slighted the J advice given him, the Lord would cast him 1 1 out of his house, and none of his posterity I should afterwards enjoy it, which accord- ingly came to pass ; for although he was in good external circumstances at the time, i yet afterwards all things went against him, until he was obliged to sell his estate ; and when giving the purchaser possession thereof, he told his wife and children that he had found Welch a true prophet.* He married Elizabeth Knox, daughter of the famous John Knox, the reformer, by whom he had three sons.t * Vide Welch’s dispute with Gilbert Brown the Papist, in preface. t The first was called Dr Welch, a doctor of medicine, who was unhappily killed, upon an inno- cent mistake in the Low Countries. Another son he had most lamentably lost at sea ; for, when the ship in which he was, had sunk, he swam to a rock in the sea, but starved there for ; want of necessary food and refreshment ; and when ! some time afterwards his body was found upon the ■ rock, they found him dead, in a praying posture, j upon his bended knees, with his hands stretched out ; and this was all the satisfaction his friends j and the world had upon his lamentable death. Another he had, who was heir to his father’s j graces and blessings ; and this was Josias Welch, I minister at Temple-patrick, in the north of Ireland, | j commonly called the Cock of Conscience by the I people of that country, because of his extraor- dinary awakening and rousing gift. He was one of that blessed society of ministers, who wrought that unparalleled work in the north of Ireland, about the year 1636, but was himself a man most sadly exercised with doubts about his own salvation all his time ; and would ordinarily say, that minister was much to be pitied, who was called to comfort weak saints, and had no comfort himself. He died in his youth, and left for his successor, John Welch, minister of Irongray in Galloway, the place of his grandfather s nativity. What business this made 287 As the duty wherein Welch abounded and excelled most was in prayer, so his greatest attainments were in that duty. He used to say, he wondered how a Christian could lie in bed all night, and not rise to pray; and many times he rose, and watch- ed unto prayer. One night having risen from his wife, and gone into the next room, where he staid so long at secret prayer, that she fearing he might catch cold, was constrained to rise and follow him: and, as she listened, she heard him say as by interrupted sentences, “ Lord, wilt thou not grant me Scotland ?” and, after a pause, “ Enough, Lord, enough !” and so she re- turned to her bed ; and he following, she ! asked him, what he meant by saying, j “ Enough, Lord, enough !” He showed him- j self dissatisfied w ith her curiosity ; but told her he had been wrestling with the Lord for Scotland, and found there w 7 as a sad time at hand, but that the Lord would be graci- ous to a remnant. This w r as about the time when the bishops first overspread the land, and corrupted the Church. The following, \ in Scotland, in the time of the late episcopal perse- cution, for the space of twenty years, is known to all Scotland. He maintained his dangerous post of preaching the gospel upon the mountains of Scotland, notwithstanding of the threatenings of the state, the hatred of the bishops, the price set upon his head, and the fierce industry of his cruel enemies. It is vrell known, that bloody Claver- house, upon secret information from his spies, that John Welch was to be found in some lurking place ! at forty miles’ distance, would make all that long journey in one winter’s night, that he might catch j him ; but when he came he always missed his prey, j We never heard of a man that endured more toil, | ventured upon more, or escaped so much hazard, ! not in the world. He used to tell his friends who ' counselled him to be more cautious, and not to j hazard himself so much, that he firmly believed I dangerous undertakings would be his security ; and that whenever he should give over that course, and retire, his ministry would come to an end ; which accordingly came to pass ; for when, after the battle of Bothwell bridge, he retired to London, the Lord called him by death, and there he was honourably interred, not far from the king’s palace. SCOTS WORTHIES. 288 however, is more wonderful still: An honest minister, who was Welch’s parishioner many a day, said, “ that one night as he watched in his garden very late, and some friends waiting upon him in his house, and wearying because of his long stay, one of them chanced to open a window towards the place where he walked, and saw clearly a strange light surround him, and heard him speak strange words about his spiritual joy.” But though Welch had, upon the account of his holiness, abilities, and success, acquired a very great respect ; yet was he never in such admiration as after the great plague which raged in Scotland in his time. And one cause was this : the magistrates of Ayr, forasmuch as the town alone was free, and the country about infected, thought fit to guard the ports with sentinels and watchmen ; when one day, two travelling merchants, each with a pack of cloth upon horseback, came to the town, desiring en- trance, that they might sell their goods, pro- ducing a pass from the magistrates of the town from whence they came, which was at that time sound and free. Notwithstanding all this, the sentinels stopt them till the magistrates were called ; who when they | came, would do nothing without their min- ! ister’s advice ; and so Welch was called, and his opinion asked. He demurred, and, putting off his hat, with his eyes raised towards heaven for a short space, though he uttered no audible words, continued in a praying posture. Having broken silence, 1 he then told the magistrates they would do well to discharge these travellers, affirming with great asseveration, that the plague was in their packs. The magistrates command- ed them to be gone, and they went to Cum- nock, a town about sixteen miles distant, where they sold their goods ; which spread such an infection in the place that the living were hardly able to bury the dead. This made the people begin to look upon Welch as an oracle: yet, as he walked with God, and kept close with him, so he | forgot not man ; for he used frequently to dine abroad with such of his friends, as he thought were persons with whom he might maintain the communion of saints: and once in the year, he used always to invite all his familiar acquaintances in the town to a treat in his house, where there was a banquet of holiness and sobriety. He continued the course of his ministry in Ayr, till king James’ purpose of destroy- ing the church of Scotland, by establishing bishops, was ripe, and then he felt it to be his duty to edify the church by his suffer- ings, as he had formerly done by his doc- trine. The reason why king James was so eager for the appointment of bishops, was neither their divine institution, which he denied they had ; nor yet the profit the church should reap by them, for he knew ! well both the men and their manner ; but j merely because he believed they were useful instruments for turning a limited monarchy into absolute dominion, and subjects into slaves ; which of all things in the world he minded most. In pursuit of tills design, he resolved in the first place to destroy General Assem- blies, knowing well that so long as these might be convened in freedom, bishops could never gain the ascendancy in Scot- land : and the dissolution of Assemblies he brought about in the following manner. The General Assembly at Holyrood- house, in 1602, with the king’s consent, appointed their meeting to be held at Aber- deen, the last Tuesday of July, 1604 ; but J before that day arrived, the king, by his | commissioner the laird of Laurieston, and Patrick Galloway, moderator of the last General Assembly, in a letter directed to the several presbyteries, prorogued the meeting till the first Tuesday of July \ 1605; and again, in June following, the ex- pected meeting was, by a new letter from JOHN WELCH. the king’s commissioner, and the commis- sioners of the General Assembly, absolutely discharged and prohibited, but without nam- ing any day or place, for any other Assem- j bly; and thus the series of Assemblies expired, never to be revived again in due form, till the covenant was renewed in 1638. However, many of the godly ministers of Scotland — knowing well, that if once the hedge of the government were broken, cor- ruption of doctrine would soon follow — re- solved not to give up their Assemblies so quietly; and therefore a number of them met at Aberdeen, upon the first Tuesday of July 1605, being the last day distinctly appointed by authority; and when they had met, did no more than constitute and dissolve. Amongst those was Welch, who, 289 though not present upon the precise day, \ yet because he came afterwards, and approv- 1 ed what his brethren had done, was accused j as guilty of the treasonable fact committed j by them. Within a month after this meeting, many 1 of the godly men were incarcerated, some in one prison, some in another. Welch was sent first to Edinburgh tolbooth, and j then to Blackness ; and so from prison to prison, till he was banished to France, never , to see Scotland again. And now the scene of his life begins to i change ; but, before his sufferings, he had the following warning. After the meeting at Aberdeen was over, he retired immediately to Ayr ; and one j night having risen from his wife, and gone f View of the Town of Ayr, in 1600.] I into his garden, as his custom was, he staid longer than ordinary. This alarmed and troubled his wife not a little, who, when he returned, expostulated very hard with him for staying so long to injure his health ; but he bade her be quiet, for it should yet be well with them, although lie knew he should never preach more at Ayr : and accordingly, before next Sabbath, he was carried prisoner to Blackness castle. After this, he, with many others who had met at Aberdeen, were brought before the council 2 o SCOTS WORTHIES. 290 I of Scotland at Edinburgh, to answer for their rebellion and contempt, in holding a General Assembly not authorized by the king ; and because they declined the secret council as judges competent in causes purely spiritual, such as the nature and constitu- tion of a General Assembly, they were re- mitted to prison at Blackness, and other places. Thereafter, six of the most con- siderable* of them were brought by night from Blackness to Linlithgow, before the criminal judges, to answer to an accusation of high treason, at the instance of Sir Thomas Hamilton, the king’s advocate, for declining, as he alleged, the king’s lawful authority, in refusing to admit the council J as judges competent in the cause. After their accusation and answer were read, they j were condemned as guilty of high treason, by the verdict of a jury ; but the punishment was deferred till the lung’s pleasure should be known, which some time after was declared to be banishment. While he was in Blackness, he wrote his famous letter to Lilias Graham, coun- tess of Wigton ; in which he expresses, in the strongest terms, his consolation in suffer- ing; his desire to be dissolved, that he might be with the Lord; the judgments * “ Their trial,” says Dr M‘Crie, “ was conducted in the most illegal and unjust manner. The king’s advocate told the jury, that the only thing which came under their cognizance, was the fact of the declinature, the judges having already found that it "was treasonable; and threatened them with an assize of error if they did not proceed as he directed them. After the jury were empannelled, the justice clerk went in and threatened them with his majesty’s displeasure, if they acquitted the pri- soners. The greater part of the jurors being still reluctant, the chancellor went out and consulted with the other judges, who promised, that no pun- ishment should be inflicted on the prisoners, pro- vided the jury brought in a verdict agreeable to the court. By such disgraceful methods, they were induced at midnight to find by a majority of three, that the prisoners w'ere guilty ; upon which they were condemned to suffer the death of traitors.” he foresaw coming upon Scotland; the cause of their sufferings, and the true state of the testimony, which he and his fellow sufferers exhibited. “ Who am I, that he should first have called me, and then constituted me a min- ister of the glad tidings of the gospel of j salvation these years past, and now, last of I all, to be a sufferer for his cause and king- j j dom. Now, let it be so that I have fought | my fight, and run my race, henceforth there is laid up for me that crown of righteous- ness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give ; not to me only, but to all that love his appearing, and choose to witness j that Jesus Christ is the King of saints, and j j that his Church is a free kingdom ; yea as | free as any kingdom under heaven, not only j to convocate, hold, and keep her meetings, and conventions, and Assemblies ; but also to judge all her affairs, in all her meetings and conventions, amongst her members and subjects. These two points ; 1. That Christ is the head of the church ; 2. That she is free in her government from all other juris- diction except Christ’s : — These two points, j I say, are the special cause of our imprison- j ment ; being now convicted as traitors for maintaining the same. We have been ever waiting with joyfulness to give the last testimony of our blood in confirmation j thereof, if it should please our God to be so favourable, as to honour us with that dignity ; yea, I do affirm, that these two j points above written, and all other things j ! which belong to Christ’s crown, sceptre, and kingdom, are. not subject, nor can be, to any other authority, but to His only, — so that I would be most glad to be offered up as a sacrifice for so glorious a truth. It would be to me the most glorious day, and the gladdest hour I ever saw in this life ; but I am in his hand, to do with me what- soever he shall please. “ I am also bound and sworn, by a special covenant, to maintain the doctrine and dis- JOHN WELCH. I cipline thereof, according to my vocation j and power, all the days of my life, under all the pains contained in the book of God, and danger of body and soul, in the day of God’s fearful judgment ; and therefore, though I should perish in the cause, yet will I speak for it, and to my power defend it, according to my vocation.” He wrote about the same time to Sir William Livingstone of Kilsyth. There are some prophetical expressions in that letter worthy of notice. “ As for that instrument, Spottiswood, we are sure the Lord will never bless that man, but a malediction lies upon him, and shall accompany all his doings ; and it may be, Sir, your eyes shall see as great confu- sion covering him, ere he go to his grave, as ever did his predecessors. Now, surely, Sir, I am far from bitterness ; but here I denounce the wrath of an everlasting God against him, which assuredly shall fall, ex- cept it be prevented. Sir, Dagon shall not stand before the ark of the Lord ; and these names of blasphemy that he wears, of arch and lord bishop, will have a fearful end. Not one beck is to be given to Ha- man, suppose he were as great a courtier as ever he was; suppose the decree were given out, and sealed with the king’s ring, j deliverance will come to us elsewhere and not by him, who has been so sore an instru- ment, not against our persons, (that were nothing, for I protest to you, Sir, in the sight of God, I forgive him all the evil he has done, or can do, to me), but unto Christ’s poor kirk, in stamping under foot so glori- ous a kingdom and beauty, as was once in this land. He has helped to cut Sam- son’s hair, and to expose him to mocking ; but the Lord will not be mocked. He shall be cast away as a stone out of a sling ; his name shall rot ; and a malediction shall fall upon his posterity after he is gone. Let this, Sir, be a monument of it, that it was told before, that when it shall come to l_ 291 ; pass, it may be seen there was warning given him. And therefore, Sir, seeing I have not the access myself, if it would please God to move you, I wish you would deliver this hand-message to him, not as from me, but from the Lord.” Spottiswood, of whom he thus complains, ! was at the time archbishop of Glasgow ; and these predictions were punctually accom- plished, though after a period of forty years : for, first, the bishop himself died in a strange land, and, as many say, in misery ; next, his son Robert Spottiswood, sometime president of the Court of Session, was beheaded by the parliament of Scotland, at the market cross of St Andrews, in the winter after the battle of Philiphaugh, which many thousands witnessed ; and, when coming upon the scaffold, Blair, the minister of the town told him, that now Welch’s prophecy was fulfilled ; to which he replied in anger, that both Welch and he were false prophets. But before leaving Scotland, there are other remarkable passages in his life worthy of being remembered. And, first, when the dispute about church government began to grow warm, as he was walking upon the streets of Edinburgh, betwixt two honest citizens, he told them, “ they had in their town two great ministers, who were no great friends to Christ’s cause at present in controversy, but it should be seen, the world should never hear of their repent- ance.” The two men were Patrick Gal- loway and John Hall; who both died suddenly and unobserved, without one to witness or soothe their dying moments. He was some time prisoner in Edin- burgh castle before he went into exile; where, one night sitting at supper with lord Ochiltree, who was his wife’s uncle, Welch, as his manner was, entertained the company with godly and edifying dis- course, which was well received by all the company except a debauched popish young 292 SCOTS WORTHIES. gentleman, who sometimes laughed, and sometimes mocked, and made wry faces. Grieved at such conduct, Welch broke out into an abrupt charge upon all the company to be silent, and observe the work of the Lord upon that profane mocker; ! upon which the wretched man sunk down ! and died beneath the table, to the great astonishment of all present. Another wonderful story is told of him at the same time: — Lord Ochiltree, hav- j ing been for a long time, through the multitude of affairs, kept from visiting him ! in his chamber, he, as he was one day walk- ing in the court, having observed Welch at his window, asked him kindly, how he did, and if in anything he could serve him ? W elch answered, he would earnestly entreat , his lordship, being at that time to go to court, to petition king James in his name, that he might have liberty to preach the gospel; which my lord promised to do. 1 Welch then added, “ My lord, both because you are my kinsman, and for other reasons, I would earnestly entreat and obtest you : not to promise, except you faithfully per- form.” His lordship answered, he would faithfully perform his promise; and so went for London. But though, at his first : arrival, he really purposed to present the petition, he found the king in such a rage ; against the condemned ministers, that he durst not at that time present it ; and therefore thinking fit to delay, he entirely 1 forgot it. The first time that Welch saw him after his return from court, he asked him what he had done with his petition. His j lordship answered, he had presented it to the king ; but that his majesty was in so great a rage against the ministers at that time, he believed it had been forgotten, for he had got no answer. Nay, said Welch to him, “ My lord, you should not lie to God, and to me, for I know you never delivered it, though I warned you to take heed not j i to undertake it except you w r ould perform it ; but because you have dealt so unfaith- j fully, remember God will take from you both estate and honours, and give them to your neighbour in your own time”' — which accordingly came to pass; for, both his estate and honours were in his own time trans- ferred to James Stuart, a cadet, but not the lineal heir of the family. While he was detained prisoner in Edin- burgh castle, his wife used for the most part to be with him ; but upon a time she ! fell into a longing to see her family in Ayr, to which with some difficulty he yielded. W hen jhe was about to take her journey, he strictly charged her not to take the ordinary way to her own house, when she came to the town ; but to pass the river above the bridge, and so get home with- out going into the town ; “ for,” said he, “before you come thither, you shall find the plague broken out in Ayr,” which ac- cordingly came to pass. The plague was at that time very terri- ble, and his being necessarily separate from j his people, it was to him the more grievous, i When his parishioners came to him to be- i moan themselves, his answer was, that 1 “ Hugh Kennedy, a godly gentleman in their town, should pray for them, and God would hear him.” This counsel they ac- ! cepted, and the gentleman, convening a ! number of the honest citizens, prayed i earnestly for the town, and the plague ! decreased. The time being come when he must leave Scotland, never to see it again, he, upon the 7th of November 1606, in the morning, with his brethren took ship at Leith ; and though it was but two o’clock, many were waiting with their afflicted families, to bid them farewell.* After * With Welch, other five godly ministers were | banished for the same cause, viz., John Forbes, who j went to Middleburgh, to the English chapel there ; 1 ! Robert Dury, who went to Holland, and was min- , | JOHN WELCH. prayer, they sang the 23rd Psalm, and to i the great grief of the spectators, set sail for the south of France, and landed in the river of Bourdeaux. Such was the Lord’s bless- ing upon his diligence, that within fourteen weeks after his arrival he was able to preach in French, and accordingly was not long in being called to the ministry ; first in a village, called Nerac, and there- after in St Jean d’Angely, a considerable walled town ; where he continued the rest of the time he sojourned in France, which was about sixteen years. When he began to preach, it was observed by some of his hearers, that while he continued in the | doctrinal part of his sermon, he spoke very correct F rench ; but when he came to the application, when his affections kindled, his fervour made him sometimes neglect the accuracy of the French construction, j There were some godly young men who I admonished him of this, which he took in very good part; and to prevent mis- takes afterwards, he desired them, when they perceived him beginning to trespass, to give him a signal, viz., by standing up : thereafter he became more accurate in his expression through the whole sermon ; ; so desirous was he, not only to deliver good matter, but to recommend it by cor- rect language, f In his auditory, there were frequently persons of great rank, before whom he | was as bold as ever he had been in a j i Scottish village ; which led Boyd of Troch- j rig once to ask him — after he had preached | before the university of Saumur, with as I I much boldness and authority, as if he had been before the meanest congregation — how j he could be so confident among strangers, ister to the Scots congregation in Leyden ; John Sharp, who became minister and professor of Divinity at Die in the Dauphinate ; and Andrew Duncan and Alexander Strachan, who, in about a year after, got liberty to return to their former places. — Calderwood’s Hist. 293 - and persons of such dignity ? To which he answered, that he was so filled with the dread of God, he had no apprehensions from man at all. This reply, said Boyd, “ did not remove my admiration, but rather increased it.” There was in his house, amongst many others who boarded with him for good education, a young gentleman of great quality, and suitable expectations, the heir of Lord Ochiltree, captain of the castle of Edinburgh. This young nobleman, after he had gained very much upon Welch’s affections, fell ill of a grievous sickness, and after he had been long wasted with it, he to the apprehension of all spectators, closed his eyes, and expired. He was therefore taken out of his bed, and laid on a pallet on the floor, that his body might be more conveniently dressed. This was to Welch a great grief, and therefore he stayed with the dead body full three hours, lamenting over him with great tenderness. After twelve hours, the friends brought in a coffin, and desired the corpse might be put into it, as the custom was ; but Welch re- quested that, for his satisfaction, they would forbear it for a time. This they granted, and did not return till twenty-four hours after his death. They then desired, with great importunity, that the corpse might be coffined and speedily buried, the weather being extremely hot. The good man still persisted, however, in his request, and earnestly begged them to excuse him once more ; so they left the corpse upon the pallet for full thirty-six hours : but even after that, as he urged not only with great earnestness, but with some displea- sure, they were constrained to forbear for twelve hours more. After forty-eight hours were past, he still held out against | them; and then his friends, perceiving that he believed the young man was not really dead, but under some fit, proposed to him, for satisfaction, that trial should be j made upon his body if possibly any spark of life might be found in him ; to which he agreed. The doctors accordingly were set to work ; they pinched him in the fleshy parts of his body, and twisted a bow-string about his head with great force ; but no sign of life appearing, they pronounced him dead, and then there was no more delay to be made. Yet Welch begged of them once more that they would but step into the next room for an hour or two, and leave him with the dead youth ; and this they granted. He then fell down before the pallet, and cried to the Lord, with all his might, and sometimes looking upon the dead body, he continued to wrestle with the Lord, till at length the youth opened his eyes, and cried out to Welch, whom he distinctly knew, “ O Sir, I am all whole, but my head and legs !” These were the places hurt wdth the pinching. When Welch perceived this, he called his friends, and showed them the dead man restored to life again, to their great astonishment. This young nobleman, though he lost the estate of Ochiltree, lived to inherit one not inferior in Ireland, became lord Castlestuart, and was a man of such ex- cellent parts, that he was courted by the earl of Stafford to be a counsellor in Ire- land. This, however, he refused, till the godly silenced Scottish ministers, who suf- fered under the bishops in the north of Ireland, were restored to the exercise of their ministry. He then engaged, and continued during his whole life ; not only in honour and power, hut in the profession and practice of godliness, to the great com- fort of the country where he lived. This story the nobleman himself communicated to his friends in Ireland. While Welch was minister in one of the before mentioned places, a certain popish friar upon an evening travelling through the country, because he could not find a lodg- ing in the whole village, addressed himself to his house for a night. The servants acquainted their master, and he was willing j ! to receive him. The family had supped | before he came, and so the servants showed the friar to his chamber, and after they had made his supper, left him to his rest. There was hut a wooden partition betwixt his room and that of Welch; and, after! the friar awoke from his first sleep, he was j j surprised at hearing a constant whisper- ! ing noise. Next morning as he walked in the j j fields, he chanced to meet with a country- j j man, who, saluting him because of his j j habit, asked him, where he had lodged that night ? The friar answered, he had lodged with the Hugonot minister. The countryman then asked him, what enter- tainment he had had ; to which the friar answered ; very bad : for, said he, I always held, that devils haunted these ministers’ houses, and I am persuaded there was one with me last night ; for I heard a contin- ual whisper, and I believe it was noth- ing else than the minister and the devil conversing together. The countryman told him he was much mistaken, and that it was nothing else than the minister at his nightly prayers. “ 0,” said the friar, “ does the minister pray ?” “ Yes, more than any man in France,” answered the countryman ; “ and if you please to stay another night with him, you may be satisfied.” The friar accordingly went hack to Welch’s, and, pretending indis- position, entreated another night’s lodging, which was granted him. Before dinner, Welch came from his chamber, and made his family exercise, according to custom. He first sang a psalm, then read a portion of Scripture, and discoursed upon it; and thereafter prayed with great fervour ; to all which the friar was an astonished witness. After exercise they went to dinner, where the friar was very civilly entertained, Welch JOHN WELCH. 295 forbearing all question and dispute with him for the time. When the evening came, Welch made exercise as he had done in the morning, which occasioned more wonder to the friar. After supper they went to bed, and the friar longing much to know what the night whisper was, was soon satisfied; for after Welch’s first sleep, the sound began. Resolving to be certain what it was, he crept silently to W elch’s chamber door, where he heard not only the sound, but the w r ords, distinctly, and had an example of communion betwixt God and man, such as he thought had not been in this world. The next morning, as soon as Welch was ready, the friar went to him, and said, that he had lived in ignorance the whole of his life, but now he was resolved to venture his soul with him, and thereupon declared himself a protestant. Welch welcomed and en- couraged him ; and he continued a protes- tant to his death. When Louis XIII. king of France, made war upon the protestants because of their religion, the city of St Jean d’Angely was besieged by him with his whole army, and brought into extreme danger. Welch was minister of the town at the time, and mightily encouraged the citizens to hold out, assuring them that God would deliver them. In the time of the siege, a cannon ball pierced the bed where he was lying; upon which he got up, but would not leave the room, till he had by solemn prayer acknowledged i his deliverance. The townsmen made a stout defence, till one of the king’s can- noniers planted a gun so conveniently upon a rising ground, that he could com- mand the whole wall, upon which the inhabitants for the most part were station- ed. By this they were constrained to abandon their post, though they had several guns there; for no man durst undertake to manage them, until Welch prevailed upon the principal gunner to remount the wall, promising to assist him in person. The cannonier told him, that they behoved to dismount the gun upon the rising ground, else they were surely lost. Welch desired him to aim well, that he would serve, and God would help him. The gunner fell to work, and Welch ran to fetch powder for a charge ; but as he was returning, the king’s gunner fired his piece, which carried the ladle with the powder out of his hands. This did not discourage him ; for having lost the ladle, he filled his hat with powder, wherewith the cannonier dismounted the king’s gun at the first shot, and the citizens returned to their post of defence. This disappointed the king so much, that he sent to the citizens to offer them conditions, viz ; — that they should enjoy the liberty of their religion, and their civil privileges ; that their walls should not be ! demolished ; and that the king only desired to enter the city in a friendly manner with his servants. This the city thought fit to grant, and the king, with a few more, entered the city for a short time. While the king was in the city, Welch preached as usual. This offended the French court ; and while he was at sermon, the king sent the duke de Esperon to fetch him out of the pulpit into his presence. The duke went with his guard, but when he entered the church, Welch commanded to make way, and to place a seat, that the duke might hear the word of the Lord. The duke, instead of interrupting him, sat down, and gravely heard the sermon to an end ; and then told Welch, he behoved to go with him to the king ; which he willingly did. When the duke returned, the king asked him, why he had not brought the minister with him, and why he did not interrupt him ? The duke answered, that never man spake like this man : but that he had brought him along with him. Upon this Welch was called. When he 296 SCOTS WORTHIES. had entered the king’s room, he kneeled, and silently prayed for wisdom and assist- ance. The king then challenged him, how he durst preach in that place, since it was against the laws of France that any man should preach within the verge of his court ? Welch answered, “ Sire, if you did right, you would come and hear me preach, and make all France hear me like- wise. For,” said he, “ I preach, that you must he saved by the death and merits of Jesus Christ, and not your own; and I preach, that as you are king of France, you are under the authority of no man on earth. Those men whom you hear sub- j ject you to the pope of Rome, which I will ! never do.” The king replied, “ Well, well, 1 you shall be my minister !” and having dismissed the good man he left the city without molestation. A short time after, in 1621, the war having been renewed, Welch told the in- habitants of the city, that their cup was full, and they should no more escape. This ac- cordingly came to pass ; for the king took the town, but commanded de Vitry, the captain of his guard, to enter and pre- serve his minister from all danger. Horses and wagons were provided by his order, to transport Welch and his family to Ro- chelle, where he sojourned for a time. His flock in France being thus scattered, he obtained liberty to return to England in the year following. His friends entreated that he might be permitted to repair to Scotland, the physicians having declared that there was no other hope of preserv- ing his life, but the enjoyment of his native air. To this, however, king James would not accede, protesting he would be unable to establish episcopacy in Scotland, if Welch were permitted to return thither.* ** * “ His own sovereign was incapable of treating him (Welch) with that generosity which he had experienced from the French monarch ; and dread- ing the influence of a man who was far gone with • He continued therefore to languish in Lon- don a considerable time : his disease was regarded by some as a sort of leprosy, and the physicians declared he had received poison. A distressing languor pervaded his frame, together with a great weakness in his knees, caused by his kneeling at prayer, in consequence of which, though he was able to move them and to walk, the flesh became hard and insensible, almost like a horn. But when, in the time of his weakness, he was desired to remit in some degree his excessive painfulness, his answer was, he had his life from God, and therefore it should be spent in his service. His friends importuned the king exceed- ingly, that if he might not return to Scot- land, he might at least have liberty to preach in London ; but even this he would not grant till he heard all hopes of life were past, not then fearing his activity. As soon however, as he heard he might preach, he eagerly embraced the liberty; a consumption, he absolutely refused to give him permission to return to Scotland. Mrs Welch, by means of some of her mother’s relations at court, obtained access to James, and petitioned him to grant this liberty to her husband. The following singular conversation took place on that occasion. His majesty asked her who was her father. She replied 1 Mr Knox.’ * Knox and Welch,’ exclaimed he, * the devil never made such a match as that.* ‘ It’s right likely, Sir,’ said she, ‘ for we never speired his advice.’ He asked her how many children her father had left, and if they were lads or lasses. She said three, and they were all lasses. * God be thanked,’ cried the king, lifting up both his hands, ‘ for, an they had been three lads, I had never bruiked my three kingdoms in peace.’ She again urged her request, that he , would give her husband his native air. * Give him his native air !’ replied the king ‘ give him i the devil !’ — a morsel which James had often in j his mout|). ‘ Give that to your hungry courtiers !’ — said she, offended at his pfdfaneness. He told her 1 j at last, that if she would persuade her husband to | submit to the bishops, he would allow' him to re- 1 j turn to Scotland. Mrs Welch lifting up her apron i and holding it toward the king, replied in the true i spirit df her father, ‘ Please your majesty, I’d rather kep hjc head there !’” — Dr M'Crie. JOHN WELCH. 297 and haying access to a lecturer’s pulpit, he went and preached both long and fervently. This proved to be his last service ; for, after he had ended his sermon, he returned to his chamber, and within two hours, quietly and without pain, resigned his spirit into his Maker’s hands, in the 53rd year of his age. During his last sickness, he was so filled and overcome with the sensible enjoyment of God, that he was overheard to utter these words ; “ O Lord, hold thy hand ; it is enough, thy servant is a clay vessel, and can hold no more !” Great as his diligence undoubtedly was, it may be doubted whether his labours or his success were most abundant ; for whether his spiritual experience in seek- ing the Lord, or his fruitfulness in convert- ing souls, be considered, they will be found unparalleled in Scotland. Many years after his death, David Dickson, at that time a highly esteemed minister at Irvine, was frequently heard to say, when people talked to him of his own success in the ministry, “ that the grape-gleaning at Ayr in Welch’s time, was far above the vintage at Irvine in his own.” Welch, in his preaching, was spiritual and searching ; his utterance was tender and moving ; he did not much insist upon scholastic topics, and made no show of his learning. One of his hearers, who was afterwards minister at Muirkirk in Kyle, used to say, “ that no man could hear him, and forbear weeping,” his speech was so affecting. There is a large volume of his sermons yet extant, though only a few of them have been printed. He never himself published anything, except his dispute with Abbot Brown, in which he shows that his learn- ing was not behind his other virtues ; and his Armageddon,* or Meditations upon the enemies of the church, and their destruc- tion ; a piece which is rarely to be found. * Mountain of Megiddo, — or hill of robbers. TESTIMONY OF JOHN WELCH. “ My desire to remain here is not great, knowing that so long as I am in this house of clay, I am absent from the Lord : and if it were dissolved, I look for a build- ing not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. In this I groan, desiring to be clothed upon with my new house which is in heaven : if so be, that being clothed, I shall not be found naked. For I that am within this tabernacle, do oft-times groan and sigh within myself, being oft-times burdened; not that I would be un- clothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life. I long to eat the fruit of that tree which is planted in the midst of the paradise of God ; and to drink of the pure river, clear as crystal, that runs through the streets of the new Jerusalem. I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth : and that though after my skin worms devour my body, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and not another, and mine eyes shall behold him, though my reins be con- sumed within me. I long to be refreshed in company with the souls of them that are under the altar, who were slain for the word of God and the testimony which they held ; and to have the long white robe given me, that I may walk in white with those glorious saints, who have washed their garments and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Why should I think it a strange thing to be removed from this place to that wherein is my hope, my joy, my crown, my eldest Brother, my Head, my Father, my Comforter, and all the glorified saints ; and where the song of Moses and of the Lamb is sung joyfully ; where we shall no longer be compelled to 298 SCOTS WORTHIES. sit by the rivers of Babylon, and hang our harps upon the willows, but shall take them and sing the new hallelujah — Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever ! What is under this old vault of the heavens, and in this old worn-out earth, (which is under the bondage of corruption, groaning and travailing in pain, and as it were still shooting out the head, looking, waiting, and longing for the redemption of the sons of God) what is there I say, that should make me remain here ? I expect that new heaven, and that new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness, and where- in I shall dwell for evermore. I look to get entry into the new Jerusalem, at one of those twelve gates whereupon are written the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. I know that Christ Jesus hath prepared room for me ; why may I not then, with boldness in his blood, step into that glory, into which my Head and Lord had gone before me ? Jesus Christ is the Door and the Porter, who then shall hold me out ? Will he let them perish for whom he died ? ; Will he let that poor sheep be plucked out of his hand for which he hath laid down his life? Who shall condemn the man whom God hath justified ? Who shall lay anything to the charge of the man for whom Christ hath died, or rather risen again ? I know I have grievously trans- gressed ; but where sin abounded, grace hath superabounded. I know my sins are red as scarlet and crimson ; yet the blood ! of Christ my Lord can make me as white as snow and as wool. Whom have I in 1 heaven but him, or whom desire I in earth 1 beside him ? 0 thou, the fairest among the children of men, the light of the Gen- tiles, the glory of the Jews, the life of the dead, the joy of angels and saints, my soul panteth to be 'with thee ! I will put my spirit into thy hands, and thou wilt not put it out of thy presence. I will come unto 1 thee ; for thou castest none away that come unto thee, 0 thou only delight of mankind ! Thou earnest to seek and save that which was lost. Thou, seeking me, hast found i me : and now being found by thee, I hope, | 0 Lord, thou wilt not let me perish. I desire to be with thee, and do long for the fruition of thy blessed presence, and joy of thy countenance. Thou the only good Shepherd, art full of grace and truth: therefore, I trust, thou wilt not thrust me out of the door of thy presence and grace. The law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Thee. Who shall separate me from thy love ? Shall tribu- lation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all these things I am more than conqueror through thy majesty who hath loved me. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor things present, nor things to come, nor any other creature, is able to separate me from the love of the majesty which is in Christ Jesus, my Lord. I re- fuse not to die with thee, that I may live with thee. I refuse not to suffer with thee, that I may rejoice with thee. Shall not all things be pleasant to me, which may be my last step, by which, or upon which, I may come unto thee. When shall I be satiated with thy face ? When shall I be drunk with thy pleasures ? Come, Lord Jesus, and tarry not. The Spirit saith come. The Bride saith come. Even so, | Lord Jesus, come quickly, and tarry not. “ Why should the multitude of mine iniquities, or the greatness of them affright me ? Why should I faint in this mine adversity to be with thee ? The greater sinner I have been, the greater glory will be thy grace to me, unto all eternity. 0 unspeakable joy, endless, infinite, and ! bottomless compassion ! 0 ocean of never- fading pleasure ! 0 love of love ! 0 | the height, and the depth, and breadth, and JOHN WELCH. 299 length of that love of thine that passeth knowledge ! O uncreated love ! Begin- ning without beginning, and ending with- out an end ! Thou art my glory, my joy, my gain, and my crown. Thou hast set me under thy shadow with great delight, and thy fruit is sweet unto my taste. Thou hast brought me into thy banqueting-house, and placed me in thine orchard. Stay me with thy flagons, and comfort me with thine apples : for I am sick, and my soul is wounded with thy love. Behold, thou art fair, my love: behold, thou art fair, thou hast dove’s eyes ! Behold thou art fair, my love ; yea, pleasant also : our bed is green ! The beams of our house are cedars, and our rafters are of fir. How fair and how pleasant art thou ! O love for delights ! my heart is ravished with thee. O when shall I see thy face ? How long wilt thou delay to be to me as a roe, or a young hart, leaping upon the moun- tains, and skipping upon the hills ? As a bundle of myrrh be thou unto me, and lie all night between my breasts. Because of the savour of thy good ointments, thy name is as an ointment poured out; therefore, desire I to go out of the desert, and through to the place where thou sittest at thy re- pose, and where thou makest thy flocks to rest at noon. When shall I be filled with thy love ? Certainly, if a man knew how precious it were, he could count all things dross and dung to gain it. I would long for that scaffold, or that axe, or that | cord, that might be to me the last step of this my wearisome journey, to go to thee my Lord. Thou, who knowest the meaning of the spirit, give answer to the speaking, sighing, and groaning of the spirit within me. Thou, who hast inflamed my heart to speak to thee in this silent, yet love-lan- guage of ardent and fervent desire, speak again unto my heart, answer my desires, which thou hast made me speak to thee. O death ! where is thy sting ? O grave ! where is thy victory ? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law : but thanks be to God, that giveth me the victory, through my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. What can be troublesome to me, since my Lord looks upon me with so amiable a countenance ? And how greatly do I long for these embracements of my Lord! O that he would kiss me with the kisses of his mouth : for his love is better than wine ! O that my soul were the throne whereon he might sit eternally ! O that my heart were the temple wherein he might be magnified and dwell for ever ! Who am I that he should first have called me, and then constitute me a min- ister of the glad tidings of the gospel of salvation these years already, and now last of all to be a sufferer for his cause and kingdom. Now let it be so, that I have fought my fight, and run my race, and now from henceforth is laid up for me that crown of righteousness, which the Lord that righteous God will give, and not to me only, but to all that love his appearance, and choose to witness this, that Jesus Christ is the King of saints, and that his church is a most free kingdom, yet as free as any kingdom under heaven, not only to convocate, hold, and keep her meetings, and conventions and assemblies ; but also to judge of all her affairs, in all her meet- ings and conventions amongst her members and subjects. These two points, First, That Christ is the head of his church ; Secondly, that she is free in her govern- ment from all other jurisdiction except Christ’s ; these two points, I say, are the special cause of our imprisonment, being now convict as traitors for the maintaining thereof : we have been ever waiting with joyfulness to give the last testimony of our blood in confirmation thereof, if it should please our God to be so favourable as to honour us with that dignity : yea, I do affirm, that these two points above written, SCOTS WORTHIES. 300 and all other things which belong to Christ’s crown, sceptre, and kingdom, are not subject, nor cannot be, to any other authority, but to his own altogether. So that I would be most glad to be offered up as a sacrifice for so glorious a truth : but alas ! I fear that my sins and the abuse of so glorious things as I have found, deprive me of so fair a crown ; yet my Lord doth know, if he should call me to it, and strengthen me in it, it would be to me the most glorious day, and the gladdest hour, I ever saw in this life ; but I am in his hand to do with me whatsoever shall please his Majesty. It may suffice me I have had so long a time in the knowledge of the gospel, and that I have seen, and heard the things that I have heard, and through the grace of God, I have been so long a witness of these glorious and good news, in my weak ministry, and that my witness- ing hath not been altogether without fruit and blessing ; so that I hope at that day, I shall have him to be my crown, my glory, my joy, and reward, and therefore boldly I say with Simeon, — Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace; not in a peaceable dying in my bed, but by rendering up to him my spirit, and the sealing and stamping this truth with my blood. I desire not to have it remedied, — hut let my Lord’s will be done. “ The guilt of our blood shall not only lie upon our prince, but also upon our own brethren, bishops, counsellors, and com- missioners ; it is they, even they that have stirred up our prince against us ; we must | therefore lay the blame and burden of our j blood upon them especially, however the rest above written be partakers of their sins with them : and as to the rest of our brethren, who either by silence approve, or by crying, — Peace, Peace, strengthen the arm of the wicked, that they cannot return, in the mean time make the hearts of the righteous sad, they shall all in like manner be guilty of high treason against the King of kings, the Lord Jesus Christ, his crown and kingdom. “ Next unto them, all our commissioners, chancellor, president, comptroller, advocate ; and next unto them, all that first or last sat in council, and did not bear plain testi- mony for Jesus Christ and his kingdom, for which we do suffer. And next unto them, all those who should have at present, and who should at such times have come, and made open testimony of Christ faith- fully, although it had been contrary to plain law, and with the hazard of their lives. When the poor Jews were in such danger, that nothing was expected but utter de- struction, queen Esther, after three days’ fasting, concluded thus with herself, ‘I will,’ said she, ‘ go in to the king,’ though it be not according to law, ‘ and if I perish I perish,’ Esther ix. 16. With this re- solution, such as are born counsellors, should have said, Christ’s kingdom is now in my hand, and I am bound, also, and sworn, by a special covenant, to maintain the doctrine and discipline thereof, accord- ing to my vocation and power, all the days of my life ; under all the pains contained in the book of God, and danger of body and soul, in the day of God’s fearful judg- ment; and therefore, though I should perish in the cause, yet will I speak for it, and to my power defend it, according to my voca- tion. Finally, all those that counsel, com- mand, consent, and allow, are guilty in the sight of God. But the mourners for these evils, and the faithful of the land, and those who are unfeignedly grieved in heart, for all these abominations, those shall be marked as not guilty, Ezek. ix. “ I know not whether I shall have occa- sion to write again ; and therefore, by this letter, as my latter will and testament, I give testimony, warning, and knowledge of these things to all men, according to the ; Lord’s direction to the prophet, ‘ Son of ROBERT BOYD. 301 man, I have made thee a watchman,’ Ezek. xxxiii. 7. &c. Therefore I give warning to all men hereby, that no man’s blood be required at my hand. Thus desiring the help of your prayers, with my humble com- mendations and service in Christ, to my lord, your husband, and all the saints there, the messenger of peace be with you all for evermore. Amen. Yours to my full power, for the time Christ’s prisoner.” ROBERT BOYD. Robert Boyd of Trochrig, was born in 1578, in the city of Glasgow. When three years old, his father, who was archbishop there, died ; and the superintendence of his early education devolved on his mother. Having retired to the family estate of Trochrig, in the neighbourhood of Ayr, she sent her son to the grammar school, to be taught the rudiments of the Latin tongue ; and after some time removed with him to Edinburgh. He studied philosophy at the university of that city, and had the degree of Master of Arts conferred on him, about the year 1594. Robert Rollock was then principal of the university ; and had appointed Mr Charles Ferme to be | teacher of philosophy ; and from him Boyd early imbibed that branch of learning which he afterwards taught with so much success in France. He also studied divinity under Rollock, from whom he not only received his first instructions in theology, but much spiritual benefit to his soul, which circum- stances he considered as the main instru- ments, under God, of his conversion. It was common, at this time, for the youth of Scotland to travel to other countries, particularly to France, in order to improve themselves in learning and in elegant accomplishments ; and the unsettled state of affairs in Scotland induced Boyd to leave his native country. Keenly bent on the pursuit of his studies, more especially theology, it was natural that he should retire to a country where these could be pursued with safety, and where liberty oi conscience might be enjoyed. He left Scotland on the first of May 1597, and arrived at Dieppe in France six days after. Thence he proceeded to Paris by way of Rouen — and afterwards to Poictiers. Not finding that convenience for frequenting religious worship and assemblies that he desired, he left Poictiers, and came to Thouars. At this place he remained a year ; when finding his health giving way, he went to Rochelle intending to return to Scotland ; but travelling having recruited his health, he visited Bourdeaux and Montauban. He became acquainted at the latter place with M. de Dismes, then professor of philosophy ; and the provi- dence of God disposed of him in such a way that his talents began to shine forth with eminence. While at Thouars, in 1598, he became SCOTS WORTHIES. 302 acquainted with the learned and pious M. Rivet, who entertained him with the greatest welcome. Here he applied himself to the study of the Latin and Greek classics, be- sides devoting considerable attention to the cultivation of Hebrew. During his stay he received charge of a school which had been formed by Dr Rivet, under the patronage of the duke de Fremouille. About the end of the year 1599, Boyd was requested to accept the professorship of philosophy, in the university of Mont- auban — to which he was admitted in November of that year. This appoint- ment took place before he had reached 21 years of age — which must be attributed to his extraordinary fame for piety and learning. But, as will be seen, still more onerous and arduous duties awaited him ; while his mental powers, being thus stimu- lated, kept pace with his promotion, and shone forth with greater lustre. Boyd continued at Montauban during the space of five years; but in September, 1604, having received a call from the congrega- tion of the church of Vertuil to supply the place of their late pastor, he resigned his professorship, and was inducted into the holy office of the ministry, in November following. The cause assigned for this change was, that certain of his students at Montauban, on returning to Angouleme, had spoken highly of his eloquence, his modesty, and exemplary conversation and conduct — and they stated that he had declared he would embrace a call to the ministry in the church of France, when- ever he should receive one. The church of Vertuil in Angouleme being vacant, they sent delegates to him, desiring his consent to become their pastor ; to which he agreed, upon condition, that, if he should have a I call to any university where he might ex- ercise the office both of a pastor and a professor, they would not object to him resigning his charge. This being admitted, j he was, after due examination and trial, ordained by the synod, and settled in the church. In November, 1605, he received a press- ing letter from his cousin, David Boyd, desiring him to return to Scotland, and look after his estate ; and urging, that as there was only one youth to represent the families of Trochrig and Penkill — and he absent from his friends, it was a duty he had to perform — and one from which he could not excuse himself. But Providence ordered otherwise : and it was well for those young persons of Saumur who after- wards profited by his instructions, that Boyd resolved to remain in France. By the appointment of Craig to the divinity chair of Saumur, the professorship of philosophy was left vacant ; and, through the activity of M. Monmartin, minister at Rochelle, and of his early friend Dr Rivet, who was in constant correspondence with lord Duplessis Mornay, founder of the college of Saumur, and to whom Dr Rivet had been eloquent in setting forth the qualities of Boyd for the vacant office, he was appointed to be minister and professor of Divinity there, on the 19th April, 1606. Here he continued for six years, discharg- ing his duties with credit to himself, and profit to his students ; — but the assiduity with which he applied himself to study laid the foundation of that disease which ultimately occasioned his death. In 1611 he was so satisfied and happy in his situation at Saumur, that he gave up all hope of ever returning to Scotland for permanent settlement — on the contrary | indeed, he felt a strong desire to settle in France. With this view he proposed marriage to a daughter of the family of Malivern ; and, having satisfied the rela- tions of the lady as to his nobility of birth, they gave their consent, and the marriage took place in May of the above year. Notwithstanding his arrangements to j ROBERT BOYD. 303 remain in France, and the success which had attended his duties as a professor, it was so ordered that he should return to Scotland. King James VI., who was anxious to increase the fame of the universities in his dominions, having heard of the learning of Boyd, wrote to lord Duplessis Mornay to permit him to return, and also addressed a letter to himself desiring him to come, and fill the situation of principal of the college of Glasgow, then vacant. This offer, coming direct from the king, could not be i resisted ; and, notwithstanding his previous determination to remain in France, he with great difficulty procured the consent of his wife and her parents to leave that country. On leaving the university of Saumur, which was much regretted by all who enjoyed his acquaintance, the elders of the reformed church, as a token of affec- tion, assembled at his house, the day pre- vious to his departure (October 1st, 1614), and presented him with a testimonial of their esteem, love, and good-will toward him, and one hundred pounds, to reimburse him for the expense he had incurred in repairing and ornamenting his residence, besides twenty-five crowns, being his quarter’s salary. They presented him also with ample testimonials from the synod of the province; — and the church and aca- demy gave him a large silver basin, on which were engraved his name and crest. Next day, October 2nd, Boyd and his family left Saumur, and were accompanied out of the town, and some part on their way, by the ministers and elders, the mas- ters of the college, and a considerable num- ber of their friends, and all Scotchmen in that neighbourhood. Having arrived at Dieppe, they embarked for England ; and, after remaining a short time in London, he departed for Glasgow, which he reached about the end of December. On Friday the 30th January, 1615, Boyd was installed into the office of prin- cipal of the college of Glasgow, by the chancellor and senate, to whom he pro- duced his majesty’s presentation ; and being unanimously admitted, he agreed to accept the office under certain conditions : that he would try it for a year ; but that, from the infirm state of his health, he ex- pected to be relieved from personally cor- recting the scholars — eating at the college table, &c. — all of which they conceded to him, and prayed that the Lord might ac- company his labours and management with his grace and blessing. Immediately there- after he commenced the duties of his office, and nothing appears to have disturbed his tranquillity for some time. In October following a daughter was born to him ; and, three days before that event, his house in the college — which on his arrival was undergoing repair, and towards which the town of Glasgow gave five hundred merks — had been prepared for his reception. In answer to a letter from Boyd, in 1616, his fitiend, Scot of Elie, remarks, that ] “ men of all ranks who have heard of your teaching and learning, are very joyous, well pleased, and content, and thank God for you. I hope your hard entry and begin- ning shall have a kind, soft and sweet pro- gress, and a right joyful end, and success both to yourself and the hail country.” We may presume from this, that those who had been instrumental in promoting him to the situation of principal, had enter- tained expectations that he would conform to those points of worship and discipline, so strongly pressed by the king and the bishops ; but, however much disposed to gratify his majesty on indifferent affairs, when it turned on matters of conscience, he felt he could not honestly comply : and the disappointment and irritation, which thence arose, were the causes which in- duced him to resign his charge. SCOTS WORTHIES. During the year 1617, nothing particu- lar occurred to disturb him in the per- formance of his duties ; and we find he was particularly careful in looking after the income of the university, which had been much neglected by his predecessors. The king, when on a visit to Glasgow, in July this year, honoured the college with his pre- sence, and dined with the professors, — Boyd, as principal, taking the superintendence. The Assembly which was held at Perth, in the following year, by order of the king, was induced by the court bishops to promise, that, either by art or force, the Scottish church should be made to assimilate to that of England, in govern- ment and ceremonies. By means of this mock Assembly , it was therefore resolved that five of the chief English ceremonies should be practised in the Scottish church, commonly styled the Perth Articles* nonconformity to which brought about such a train of persecution and suffering upon the people of Scotland and the min- isters, that at last it ended in open resis- tance to the armed forces brought to com- pel obedience to the objectionable articles. But after much bloodshed, — the opposition of the people of Scotland was successful, and they were in the end allowed to worship God “ according to their own conscience.” Boyd kept himself aloof from all Assem- blies, and did not interfere publicly with the controversies which took place after * These articles were ratified in the parliament held in June, 1621. At its close in August, there occurred a great fall of rain, accompanied with thunder and lightning, which compelled the noble- men to abandon their horses, and take refuge in their coaches. Regarding this, bishop Spottiswood, noticing the opinions of the time, quaintly observes : “ The factious sort did interpret this to be ‘a visible sign of God’s anger for ratifying the acts of Perth others, in derision of their folly, said ‘ that it was to be taken for an approbation from Heaven, likening the same to the thunderings and lightnings at the giving of the law of Moses.’ ” the passing of these articles : — he even extended his hospitality to the bishops, being disposed to think well of them. As ! soon however as they perceived that he favoured their opponents, they, by means of their emissaries, construed all his words and actions into the worst of motives. About this time Robert Bruce, one of the greatest opponents of the bishops, having visited the neighbourhood of Glasgow, Boyd had several interviews with him, — they having been formerly on terms of friendship. In consequence of these meetings it was reported that he had adopted the principles of the puritanical party. This having been reported to the king, Boyd, in order that he might avoid his displeasure, and escape the enmity of the bishops, resolved to demit his office, and retire to his estate in Carrick. He was strongly advised against this step by his friends ; but, not- withstanding their earnest entreaties, he carried his purpose into effect. Of this proceeding he afterwards sorely repented : and indeed to this cause may be attributed many of the disappointments and vexations which he afterwards encountered; and there can be no doubt that these contri- buted to hasten his death. In July, this year, he received an invita- tion to return to Saumur, to be colleague with the learned John Cameron in the professorship of divinity. This, however, he refused, which was ultimately fortunate ; as, shortly after, the troubles in France came to such a height that all the protes- tant academies were dispersed, and their professors obliged to flee for their lives. In March, 1621, he gave in to Law, bishop of Glasgow, the following reasons for his resignation of the office of principal in the college of Glasgow : — 1st. That he could not, from the weak state of his health, undertake to perform worthily the duties of his double charge, as principal and min - ister of Govan. 2nd. The correction of ROBERT BOYD. 305 students by corporal punishments was altogether contrary to his humour and disposition. 3rd. He had been for some time engaged in the composition of several works, which he was anxious to have lei- sure to perfect. 4th. That he was deter- mined neither to acquiesce in nor agree with the articles of Perth Assembly. 5tli. That he had not made any provision for his family ; and that his estate, being neglected by the present occupiers, required his person- al superintendence, in order that it might not be altogether lost : and besides, that he had originally undertaken the office of principal on trial only. Put what more immediately brought about his determina- tion to follow up this resolution, was the following: — At the dispensing of the Sacra- ment, in April this year, archbishop Law urged all the people to kneel ; some did so, but some of the students sat still. On this he commanded them to kneel or to depart ; but they remonstrated before retiring, observing that there was no warrant for kneeling, and therefore, that they ought not to be debarred from the table of the Lord. In consequence of this, the prin- cipal, accompanied by the masters of the college, went to the archbishop and re- proved him freely for driving from the Lord’s table such godly young men, telling him that the table was not his but Christ’s, “ and that he dealt in the matter, as if he had been removing his house-boy from the bye-board.” The archbishop was so en- raged at this free admonition that he could not find utterance for some time, and when he did, he gave vent to his indignation in such high words, that Boyd saw it was in vain to argue further with him ; and told him, on retiring, that he would not sit in Rome and strive with the pope. This dispute with the archbishop determined Boyd to give up his office, which he did in July following. Having sent his family to his estate of Trochrig, he remained at Glasgow for a few months ; and while there, some dependents of the bishop, (it is supposed,) broke into his house and took away several papers relating to the affairs of the college, regarding the loss of which he was unkindly used by the regents, I as they threatened to compel him to make restitution ; and it was suspected that the whole affair had been planned for the purpose of giving him trouble and annoyance. However he got rid of all his difficulties, and arrived at Trochrig in November. On October 17th, 1622, he received a I letter from archbishop Spottiswood, offering him the divinity chair of the university of Edinburgh, which was backed by the magistrates, and also by the masters of the college, notwithstanding his known senti- ments against conformity. Having ac- cepted the offer, as soon as he began his public duties, the people flocked to hear him, which excited against him the enmity of the other ministers, — they having all con- formed ; and they represented to the king the impropriety of appointing to such an office, a person who had been so lately turned out of a similar one, on account of nonconformity. Andrew Ramsay was the strongest in his opposition to him — as from his teaching in the same school, and preaching in the same church, he perceived that almost all who came to town flocked to hear Boyd in preference to him. Upon November 23rd, there came a letter from the king, to the provost and bailies of Edinburgh, expressing surprise that they should have placed a man to be principal, who had been deposed from his ministry for not obeying the king’s com- mand in the matter of kneeling at the sacrament; and therefore commanded them either to get him to conform, or expel him. After some correspondence betwixt the provost and bailies of Edinburgh, and the archbishop of St Andrews and his majesty, 2 Q 306 SCOTS WORTHIES. j a peremptory order arrived, on the last day of January, 1623, ordering them again to call Boyd before them, and to urge him to conform ; but if he refused, himself, his wife, and family, were to be banished from the town — and the provost and bailies were threatened on their peril to see this put in execution. Boyd, having compeared before them, and having been shown the king’s letter, at once resigned. The king’s letter to the provost and bailies showed a spirit of arbitrariness and persecution, which, instead of furthering, deeply wounded the interests of prelacy in Scotland. When nonconformity was made a bar to the usefulness of the most pious and learned men of the age, even those who were disinterested could not but be dissatisfied : and the treatment of Boyd, and other learned and pious men, prepared the way for the ultimate overthrow of pre- lacy in Scotland. After this Boyd returned again to his estate of Trochrig, where he remained in peace and tranquillity for about three years. His enemies were determined, however, that he should not remain long without feeling their enmity ; for, on 24th June, 1624, there came an order from the council, that he should be confined to the bounds of Carrick, on account of his noncon- formity to the Perth articles, and keeping private meetings for prayer. At this time his son being old enough to go to school, Boyd wrote to his friend Bruce, one of the regents of Glasgow college, with whom he wished to board him — and also to the bishop, for permission to come to Glasgow in the beginning of October. Bruce, in answering him, states that the bishop would do anything with safety to satisfy him; but he could not grant him a license to pass the bounds, as he was not present when the order for his con- finement took place : yet if he had any- thing to do in Glasgow, he might come and do it, and he would take no notice of his coming, provided he came secretly, and transacted his affairs in as quiet a manner as possible. When Boyd came to Glasgow with his son, old affection and respect for him rekindled ; and as his situation had been vacant for nearly two years, since Mr Cameron’s removal — the masters, the town council and the bishop, were most anxious that he should occupy it again. We come now to that transaction in his life of which he afterwards most sorely re- pented. By the advice of some of his friends, he was induced to give in a paper to Law, archbishop of Glasgow, in which he in part acknowledged the supremacy of bishops ; but no sooner had he taken this step, than he felt so troubled, that he went to the archbishop, and with tears requested it back. Law, however, pretended that it was already sent up to the king, and that it was not in his power to restore it. This paper follows in his own words : — “ I, Robert Boyd of Trochrig, under- subscribing, having learned and considered the reasons and motives laid before me by ane reverend father in God, James arch- bishop of Glasgow, and some other my loving and Christian friends, and weighed more deeply than ol before the necessity of employing the Lord’s talent in the exer- cise of my calling to his glory and the good of the kirk, whairunto my abstinence from conformity to the five articles of the late Perth Assembly has been hitherto the chiefest lett and hinderance, do here in end faithfully promise to give obedience there- unto in dob time and place, craving humbly his mdjesy t. ; The earliest notice we have of this strenu- j ous supporter of Presbytery, and faithful j servant of Christ, is, when he was em- | ployed as schoolmaster at a place called I Newton, in Ireland No account, either of his parentage, birth, or early education, seems to be on record. That his scholastic attainments, however, were of a respectable order, may be presumed from the circum- stance of his having educated several young i JOHN M‘CLELL AND. 357 men for the university, who are said to have been very hopeful students. After having been engaged for some time in this humble occupation, he was taken upon trial for the ministry, by the presbytery of Down, and having been found duly quali- fied, was licensed to preach the everlasting gospel. It does not appear that he had ever been set apart to any particular charge in Ireland ; but spent his time in itinerating within the bounds of the presbytery, until, his fidelity and zeal in the service of his Master having reached the ear of the bishops, he was by them deposed and ex- communicated. He was one of the few faithful brethren in that country, who, after their deposition and ejection from their livings, meditated a plan of emigration to New England, in 1636 ; hut proving abortive in consequence of a storm which forced them to put back to Ireland, preached for some time through the counties of Down, Tyrone and Done- gal, in private meetings ; until, hunted and persecuted by episcopal tyranny, he was compelled in disguise to seek refuge in Scotland. About the year 1638, he was ordained minister of Kirkcudbright, where he continued to labour with great assiduity till the day of his death. During the whole of his incumbency in that parish, he dis- covered more than ordinary zeal, not only in testifying against the corruptions of the times ; but by an unimpeachable walk and conversation, as one bent upon the advance- ment of all the interests of religion, in private as well as in public. But even the peaceful demeanor and godly life of M‘Clelland did not screen him from persecution ; and from a quarter, too, from which other things might have been expected. Guthrie, then minister at Stirling, and afterwards bishop of Dunkeld, having heard of his extraordinary diligence SCOTS WORTHIES. 358 in promoting personal and family reli- gion, by encouraging fellowship-meetings, threatened to lay a complaint against him before the General Assembly of 1639 ; out of resentment, it was said, against the laird of Leckie, who was a strenuous supporter of such meetings. These private assemblages were at that time becoming very general throughout Scotland ; and the leading members, sensible of the great good they had effected in the cause of Presbytery, and in cementing a union among the brethren — rather than that the matter should proceed any further — proposed that M‘Clelland should, in his public ministra- tions, enforce the duty and necessity of family religion, and that he, Blair, and Livingstone, should preach against such meetings, and other abuses. Not one of these men, however, could be persuaded to comply ; and therefore Guthrie made good his threat, by actually tabling an accusation against all the three, before the Assembly of 1640, alleging that they were the sole supporters of the conventicles complained of. M‘Clelland entered upon his defence with Christian heroism, and craved that a committee might be appointed to investi- gate the matter, and that the offenders might be censured, whether it should turn out to be the persons libelled, or their ac- cusers. At this, Guthrie, the earl of Sea- forth, and others of the coalition, were so much irritated, that for a time nothing could be heard in the Assembly, on account of the tumult and commotion which the libel had excited. The farther prosecution of the charge, however, seems to have drop- ped here. M‘Clelland is said to have been occa- sionally endued with a prophetic spirit, — and this assertion seems to have been gathered from some expressions he had at one time employed in one of his sermons, — viz.,— “ That the judgments of England should be so great, that a man might ride fifty miles through the best plenished parts of England, without hearing a cock crow, a dog bark, or seeing a man’s face — and, “ that if he had the best land in all Eng- land, he would sell it for two shillings an acre, and think he had come to a good market.” Little more is known of this good man that may with certainty be relied on. After having faithfully discharged his duties as minister of Kirkcudbright, for nearly twelve years, and borne unwavering testi- mony against the unscriptural introduction and exercise of patronage, and for the per- petual obligation of the Solemn League and Covenant in these lands, he was called home to his Father’s house, about the year 1650, to the full fruition of what he had before been gratified with only in vision. He was a man of a truly apostolic life, not knowing what it was to be afraid of any one in the cause of Christ; and he was admitted to nearer and more intimate communion with his divine Lord and Master, than generally falls to the lot even of the most sincere Christians. 4 The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him ; and he will show them his covenant.’ His gra- cious and fatherly providence is ever towards them, working for, and taking care of them. A little before his death he composed the following verses, breathing the most confident assurance of eternal life, through the righteousness that is in Christ Jesus : — Come, stingless Death, have o'er,! lo! here’s my pass, In blood character’d by his hand who was, And is, and shall be. Jordan, cut thy stream,— Make channels dry ! I bear my Father’s name Stamped on my brow. I’m ravished with my crown I shine so bright. Down with all glory — down — That world can give ! I see the peerless port, ! The golden street, the blessed soul’s resort, The tree of life, — floods, gushing from the throne, i Call me to joys. Begone, short woes, begone ! I live to die, — but now I die to live — I now enjoy more than 1 could believe. The promise me unto possession sends, Faith in fruition ; hope in vision ends. JOHN M‘CLELLAND. 359 house, and it was received in the most solemn manner that I have heard ; so that they may call it God’s covenant both for- OF JOHN M'CLELLAND. February 20th, 1649. “ My noble Lord ! — I have received yours, and do acknowledge my obligation to your lordship is redoubled. I long much to hear what decision followed on that debate concerning patronages. Upon the most exact trial, they will be found a great plague to the kirk, an obstruction to the propagation of religion. I have reason to hope that such a wise and well-consti- tute parliament will be loath to lay such a yoke upon the churches, of so little advan- tage to any man, and so prejudicial to the work of God, as hath been many times re- presented. Certainly the removing it were the stopping the way of simony, except we will apprehend that whole presbyteries will be bribed for patronage. I can say no more but what Christ said to the Pharisees, ‘ It was not so from the beginning the primitive church knew nothing of it. “ But as for their pernicious disposition to a rupture with the sectaries, I can say nothing to them; only this, I conclude their judgment sleeps not : 4 Shall they escape ; shall they break the covenant and be delivered ?’ — which I dare apply to Eng- land, I hope, without wresting of Scripture : c And therefore thus saith the Lord God, As I live, surely mine oath that he hath I despised, and my covenant that he hath broken, even it will I recompense on his own head.’ This covenant was made with Nebuchadnezzar, — the matter was civil, but the tie was religious ; wherefore the Lord owns it as His covenant, because God’s name was invoked and interponed in it: and he calls England to witness. Eng- land’s covenant was not made with Scot- land only, but with the high and mighty God, principally for the reformation of his mally and materially : and the Lord did second the making of it with more than ordinary success to that nation. Now, it is manifestly despised and broken in the sight of all nations ; therefore it remains that the Lord avenge the quarrel of his covenant. England hath had to do with the Scots, French, Danes, Piets, Normans, and Romans ; but they never had such a party to deal with as the Lord of armies, pleading for the violation of his covenant, &c. Englishmen shall be made spectacles to all nations for a broken covenant, when the living God swears, 4 As I live, even the covenant he hath despised, and the oath that he hath broken, will I recom- pense upon his own head.’ There is no place left for doubting. 4 Hath the Lord said it hath the Lord sworn it, 4 and will he not do it ?’ His assertion is a ground j for faith, his oath a ground of full assurance , of faith. If all England were as one man, united in judgment and affection, and if it had a wall round about it reaching to the sun, and if it had as many armies as it has men, and every soldier had the strength of Goliath, and if their navies could cover the ocean, and if there were none to peep out or move the tongue against them, yet I dare not doubt of their destruction; when the Lord hath sworn by his life, that he will avenge the breach of covenant. When, and by whom, and in what manner he will do it, I do profess ignorance, and leave it to his glorious Majesty, his own latitude, and will commit it to him, &c. 44 My Lord, I live and will die, and if I be called home before that time, I am in the assured hopes of the ruin of all God’s enemies in the land ; so I commit your lordship and your lady to the grace of God. John M 4 Clelland. To John Lord Kirkcudbright. SCOTS WORTHIES. I 360 ! DAVID CALDERWOOD. This eminent historian of the church, and sufferer for the cause of Christ, holds a prominent part in the annals of ecclesias- tical biography. Of his early life and literary acquirements, however, we are unable to say more than that after having qualified himself for the ministry, and ob- tained license, he was appointed minister of Crailing, near Jedburgh. Here he preached the word of God for a consider- able time, with great wisdom, zeal, and diligence ; and as a wise harvest-man, brought in many sheaves into God’s granary. But it being then a time when prelacy was greatly prevalent in the church, and faith- ful ministers were everywhere thrust out and silenced, he, with others, gave in their declinature in 1608, and thereupon took instruments in the hands of a notary-public, in presence of some of the magistrates and council of the town. Upon this informa- tion having been sent to James by the bishops, instructions were given to the coun- cil, to punish Calderwood and another min- ister with exemplary severity. Through the influence of the earl of Lothian with the chancellor, in favour of Calderwood, how- ever, their punishment was mitigated to confinement within their own parishes. Under this sad restriction was Calder- wood detained a prisoner within his own parish, but he was afterwards summoned to appear before the high commission court at St Andrew’s, upon the 8th of July fol- lowing. After his libel was read over and answered, the king said — “ But what moved you to protest ?” “ A clause agreed to by the Lords of Articles,” replied Calderwood. “ But what fault had you to it ?” said the king — “ It cutteth off our General Assem- blies,” was Calderwood’s answer. The king, — holding the protest in his hand — then challenged him for some words in the last clause of it ; to which Calderwood i responded, — “ Whatsoever was the phrase of speech, they meant no other thing but to protest, that they would give passive obedi- I ence to his majesty, but could not give | active obedience unto any unlawful thing which should flow from that article.” i “ Active and passive obedience !” said the j king. — “ That is, we will rather suffer than j | practise,” said Calderwood. “ I will tell ! I thee, man,” said the king, “ what is obedi- | ence, — what the centurion said to his ser- j vants, “To this man, Go, and he goeth, ! j and to that man, Come, and he cometh ; j ! that is obedience !” Calderwood replied, “To suffer, Sire, is also obedience, howbeit j not of the same kind ; and that obedience I was not absolute, but limited, with excep- tion of a countermand from a superior pow T er.” “ I am informed,” said the king, “ ye are a refractor ; the bishop of Glasgow your ordinary, and bishop of Caithness the moderator, and your presbytery, testify ye have kept no order, ye have repaired to | neither presbytery nor synod, and are no way conform.” To this Calderwood re- | plied, “ I have been confined these eight or ! nine years ; so my conformity or non-con- | ! formity in that point could not be well ! known.” “ Gude faith, thou art a very | knave,” said the king ; “ see these same I false puritans, they are ever playing with ! equivocations !” His majesty then asked | whether he would conform or not, if he were released, — to which Calderwood DAVID CALDERWOOD. made answer, “ I am wronged, in that I am forced to answer such questions, which are beside the libel.” After this he was removed. When again called in, it was intimated to him, that if he did not repair to synods and presbyteries between this and October, conform within that time, and promise obedience in all time coming, the bishop of Glasgow was to depose him. Calder- wood then craved permission to say a few words to the bishops ; which being granted, he spoke as follows : “ Neither can ye sus- pend or deprive me in this court of high commission, for ye have no power in this court but by commission from his majesty ; his majesty cannot communicate that power to you which he claims not to himself.” At which the king shook his head, and said, “ Are there not bishops and fathers in the church, persons clothed with power and authority to suspend, and depose ?” “ Not in this court,” answered Calderwood. At these words there arose such a clamour in the court, that he was obliged to raise his voice, in order to be heard. At length the king asked him, if he would obey the sen- tence ? To which he replied, “ Your sen- tence is not the sentence of the kirk, but a sentence null in itself, and therefore I can- not obey it.” All mouths were then opened against him, reviling and calling him a proud knave; and some had even the audacity to shake him by the shoulders, in the most insolent manner, until at last he was removed a second time. Being again brought in, the sentence of deposition was pronounced, and he was ordained to be committed to close ward in the tolbooth of St Andrews till further orders should be given for his banishment ; upon which he was upbraided by the bis- hops, who said, that he deserved to be treated like Ogilvy, the Jesuit, who had been hanged for , denying the king’s power. When ; abou to reply, the bishop of St Andrews : 361 said — “ No answer !” and the secretary cast in his teeth — “ If ye will answer to any- thing, answer to your libel !” “ I have answered to that long ago,” said Calder- wood; whereupon the king, in a rage, cried, “ Away with him !” — and upon this, lord Scone taking him by the arm, led him out, where they staid some time waiting for the bailiffs of the town. In the meantime Calderwood said to Scone, “ My lord, this is not the first like turn that hath fallen into your hands !” — “ I must serve the king,” said Scone. To some ministers who were standing by, Calderwood said, “ Brethren, ye have Christ’s cause in hand at this meeting; be not terrified with this spectacle ; prove faithful servants to your Master !” As the keys of the tolbooth could not be got at the time, Scone took him to his own house, until these could be found ; and as they were walking along, Scone was thus accosted — “ Whither with the man, my lord ?”■ — “ First to the tolbooth,” said his lordship, “ and then to the gallows !” From the confusion and noise that took place when Calderwood was before the king, and from the suggestions made to him by some of his brethren, he was afraid that he had misunderstood his majesty; and therefore he signified the same to the king in writing,* stating that he had been so disturbed by those who were standing round him, that he thought his majesty meant no more than that he would acknow- ledge the sentence pronounced by the bishops. Calderwood was committed a close prisoner, and the same afternoon an order * When the king read the first part, he said, “ How could this be? — The man had all his senses — the devil nor he had been red wud, and by his mind, and then I had not been so angrie at him.” When he read on, he became more calm ; but the bishops incensed him again. The king, then, after having read over the paper, made a mark on the edge of it ; and said, “ I will kenn it by this mark among a hundreth, and will advise upon it.” — Cald. Hist. 2 Z SCOTS WORTHIES. [Tolbootb of was given to transport him to the tolbooth of Edinburgh. Upon this, he was delivered to two of the guard to be conveyed thither, although several persons offered to bail him, that he might not go out of the coun- try. But no order of council could be had to that effect ; for the king’s intention was to keep him in close ward till a ship was ready to convey him first to London, and then to Virginia. Providence, however, had ordered otherwise ; for, in compliance with the prayer of several petitions in his behalf, he was liberated from prison, upon lord Cranstoun becoming security that he should depart out of the country.* * At Glasgow the 27th day of the month of July, 1607 years — The whilk day, in presence of the lords of secret council, compeared personally James Cranstoun, sonne to William lord Cranstoun, and acted and obliged him and his heirs as cautioners and suretie for Mr David Calderwood, minister at Grading, that the said Mr David, betwixt the date hereof, and the feast and terme of Michaelmas next to come, shall depart and passe forth from his Edinburgh, 1630.] After this, he went with lord Cranstoun to the king at Carlisle, where the said lord presented a petition in his favour, to the effect that he might only be confined to his parish ; but the king inveighed against him so much, that at last he repulsed Cranstoun with his elbow. Calderwood again insisted for a prorogation of the time of his departure till the end of April, be- cause of the winter-season, that he might have time to get in his year’s stipend. To this the king replied, “ Howbeit he begged it were no matter, he would know himself better the next time ; and for the season of the year, if he drowned in the seas, he might thank God that he had escaped a , , worse death.” Cranstoun, however, being j j importunate for the prorogation, the king j 1 answered, I will advise with my bishops, j Majestie’s dominions, and not return again within the samine, without his Majestie’s license first had and obtained thereto, under the pain o'f ve hundreth merks. — Cald. Hist. I 362 HUGH BINNING. 363 In this way, the time was protracted till the year, 1619, that he wrote a book called Perth Assembly , when he was condemned by the council in December of that year : — but, as he himself says, neither the book nor the author could be found ; for in August preceding he had embarked for Holland. After the death of James, Calderwood returned to his native country, where he kept himself as retired as possible. His principal place of residence was at Edin- burgh, where he exerted himself greatly in strengthening the hands of non-conform- ists, until after 1658, when he was admitted minister of Pencaitland, in East Lothian. After that period he contributed very much to the carrying on of the covenanted work in Scotland ; for first, he had an active hand in drawing up some excellent papers in which were contained the records of church policy betwixt 1576 and 1596, which were presented and read by Mr Johnston, the clerk, to the General Assem- bly at Glasgow, in 1638 ; and then, by re- commendation of the General Assembly of 1646, he was required to consider the order of the visitation of kirks, and trials of presbyteries, and to make report thereon to the next Assembly ; and again, at the General Assemblv of 1648, a further re- commendation was given him, to make a draught of the form of visitation of particu- lar congregations, against the next Assem- bly. He was also one of those appointed, with Mr Dickson, to draw up the form of the Directory for the public worship of j God, by the General Assembly of 1643. After having both spent and been spent, with the apostle, for the cause and interest of Jesus Christ, while the English army| lay at Lothian, during 1651, he went to Jedburgh, where he was taken ill, and died in a good old age. He was another valiant champion for the truth, who, in pleading for the crown and interest of Jesus Christ, knew not what it was to be intimidated by the face and frowns of the highest and most incensed adversaries. Before he went to Holland, he wrote the book entitled, Perth Assembly . While in Holland, he wrote that learned work called Altar e Damascenum , with other pieces in English, which contributed not a little to keep many straight in that declin- ing period. After his return, he wrote his well-known history of our church as far down as the year 1625, of which the printed copy is only a short abstract of the manu- script ; which, both as to style and manner is far preferable. HUGH BINNING. The subject of this memoir was the eldest son of John Binning of Dalvennari, and Margaret M‘Kell, daughter of Matthew M‘Kell, minister of Bothwell, and sister to Hugh M‘ Kell, one of the ministers of Edin- burgh. Binning’s father was possessed of no inconsiderable estate in the county of Ayr, which therefore enabled him to bestow upon his son a liberal education, — the happy effects of which became very early 364 SCOTS WORTHIES. conspicuous ; and it is pleasant to observe, that the magnanimity and genius which he then discovered, afforded his parents the delightful hope of his becoming, in the end, a useful and an honourable minister of the gospel. When at the grammar-school, he made such proficiency in the Latin lan- guage, and acquired such a knowledge of the Roman authors, as to outstrip all his class-fellows ; nay, even those who were by far his seniors. He had an aversion to all juvenile sports and amusements ; not from a gloomy or morose disposition ; but from a conviction that time was too pre- cious to be trifled with ; and therefore, while the rest of the scholars were at play, he employed his time, either in secret com- munion with God, or in conference with religious people. Religion and religious exercises were his choice ; and therefore, before others began seriously to think of their lost and undone state by nature, he i enjoyed sweet familiarity with his Saviour, and lived in near communion with him. When he arrived at the thirteenth or four- teenth year of his age, he had attained to such experience in the ways of God, that the most judicious and tried Christians in the place confessed they were much edified, strengthened, and comforted by him ; nay that he stimulated them to their religious duties, being sensible that they were far outrun by a mere youth. Before he was fourteen years of age, he entered upon the study of philosophy in the university of Glasgow, in which he made such distinguished progress as to attract the notice both of the professors and his fellow-students ; the latter of whom he left as far behind, as he had done his more youthful aspirants in the study of the classics. The abstruse depths of philo- sophy, which are the torture of a slow genius and weak capacity, he dived into without pain or trouble ; by which means he was enabled to do more in one hour, than many could do in some days, by severe study and close application. Notwith- standing all this, he was never exalted above measure, but conducted himself with becoming humility and condescension ; ever ready to aid those who solicited his help. Having completed his course of philo- sophy, he took the degree of Master of Arts before he was nineteen years of age; after which he entered upon the study of divinity, with a view to serve God in the holy ministry, w T ith a mind richly stored with the knowledge of the liberal sciences, and deeply impressed with the eternal im- portance of religion. At this time there happened to be a vacancy in the college of Glasgow, by the resignation of Mr James Dalrymple of Stair, who had for some time been his teacher. And though Binning had been but lately his scholar, yet he was persuaded, after much entreaty, to stand candidate for the situation. According to the usual custom, the masters of the college emitted a programme, and sent it to all the universities of the kingdom ; inviting such as had a mind to dispute for a profession of philosophy, to sist themselves before them, and offer themselves to compete for the preferment : giving assurance that, without partiality, the place should be conferred upon him who should be found most eminent in morals and learning. The ministers of Glasgow, considering how much it was the interest of the church that well-qualified persons should be put into the profession of philosophy ; and knowing that Binning was eminently pious, and of a bright genius, as well as of a solid judgment, had frequent conferences with him in order to induce him to enroll himself among the competitors. They had much difficulty in overcoming his modesty; but they at last prevailed upon him to declare his willingness to undertake the dispute HUGH BINNING. before the masters. Besides Binning, there were other two candidates ; one of whom had powerful interest with Dr Strang, prin- cipal of the college ; and the other was a scholar of great abilities. Binning, how- ever, so acquitted himself in all parts of his trial, that in the opinion of the judges, he very far eclipsed his rivals ; and as to the precise point of literature, cut off all shadow of a demur and pretence of difficulty as to the decision. However, though the Doctor and some of the Faculty could not pretend that their favourite candidate had an equality, much less a superiority in the contest ; yet they argued, that the person they inclined to prefer, being a citizen’s son, having a sufficient competency of learning, and being a person of maturer years, had greater experience than Binning could be supposed to have, and conse- quently better qualified to be a teacher of youth ; besides, that Binning having been i j but very recently a fellow-student with those I he was to be appointed to teach, it was not 1 to be expected that the students would be- • have towards him with that respect and re- i gard which should be paid to a teacher. To ! this, however, it was replied, — That Binning was such an accomplished scholar, so wise and sedate, as to be above all the follies and vanities of youth ; and that what was wanting in years was made up sufficiently ! by his more than ordinary and singular | i endowments. Upon which a member of | ; the faculty, perceiving the contest to be very keen, proposed a trial between the two candidates extempore , on any subject | the judges should be pleased to prescribe, j This put an end to the division between them ; and those who had opposed Binning, not willing to engage their friend with such an able antagonist a second time, withdrew their objections. He was not quite nineteen years of age when he was appointed regent and pro- fessor of philosophy; and though he had 365 not time to prepare any part of his course systematically, having instantly to begin his class ; yet such was the quickness and fertility of his genius, the tenaciousness of his memory, and the solidity of his judg- ment, that his dictates* to the scholars had a depth of learning, and perspicuity of expression, seldom equalled. He was among the first in Scotland that began to reform philosophy from the barbarous terms and unintelligible jargon of the schoolmen. He continued in this profession three years, and discharged his trust so as to gain the general applause of the university. And this was the more remarkable, that having turned his thoughts towards the ministry, he carried on his theological studies at the same time, and made great improvements therein ; for his memory was so retentive, that he scarcely forgot anything he had read or heard. It was easy for him to write out any sermon, after he returned from hearing it, at such length, that even the intelligent and judicious reader who had heard it preached, could scarcely find one sentence wanting. During this period, he gave full proof of his progress and knowledge in divinity, in a composition from 2 Cor. v. 14 ;t which he sent to a lady at Edinburgh for her private edification ; who, having perused the same, and supposing it to be a sermon of some eminent minister in the west of Scotland, put it into the hands of the then provost of Edinburgh, who judged of it in the same manner. But when she returned to Glasgow, she found * It was the custom of the Regents to dictate to the students their observations on such parts of the writings of Aristotle, Porphyry, and others as were read in their classes. This was done in Latin, which was the only language allowed to be used by the students, even in their common con- versation . — Dr Leishman. f “ For the love of Christ constraineth us, be- cause we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead." j 366 SCOTS WORTHIES. her mistake, by Binning asking it from her. This was the first discovery he had given of his abilities in explaining the Scriptures. At the expiration of the three years which he had spent as professor of philo- sophy, the parish of Govan, which lies adjacent to the city of Glasgow, and is within the bounds of that presbytery, happened to be vacant. Before that time, the principal of the college of Glasgow was also minister of Govan.* But this being attended with inconveniences, an alteration was made ; and the presby- tery, having in view to supply the va- cancy with Binning, took him upon trials ; who, after having been licensed, preached there to the great satisfaction of the people. He was some time after called to he minister of that parish. This call the presbytery sustained, and he entered upon trials for ordination, about ; the twenty-second year of his age, which i he went through to the unanimous appro- bation of the presbytery, who gave their testimony to his fitness to be one of the ministers of the city upon the first vacancy ; intending at the same time to recall him to the university, as soon as the divinity 1 chair should be vacant. Considering his age, he was a prodigy of learning ; for, before he was twenty-six, he had such a large stock of useful know- ! ledge, as to be called “ philologist, philo- sopher, and excellent divine and he might w r ell have been an ornament to the most famous and flourishing university in Europe. And this was the more sur- prising, considering his weakness and in- firmitv of body, not being able to read ! * The office of principal of the university of ; Glasgow was disjoined from the cure of the parish of Govan, in 1621. Mr William Wilkie was j Binning’s immediate predecessor, who was deposed by the synod, on the 29th of April, 1649 . — Dr i Leishman. 1 much at a time, or to undergo the fatigue of continual study;' insomuch that his knowledge seemed rather to have been born with him, than to have been acquired by hard and laborious study. Though naturally studious and intent upon fulfilling all his ministerial duties, he | nevertheless turned his thoughts to mar- riage, and espoused Barbara Simpson, the excellent daughter of Mr James Simpson, a minister in Ireland. Upon the day on which he was to be married, he went, ac- companied with his friend and some others, j among whom were several ministers, to a neighbouring country-congregation, upon the day of their weekly sermon. The minister of the parish delayed till their ar- rival, with the intention of procuring the assistance of some of the ministers whom ; he expected to be present ; but all declining it, he tried to prevail on the bridegroom, with whom he succeeded. It was no diffi- cult task to him to preach upon a short warning. After retiring a little to pre- meditate, and implore his Master’s presence 1 and assistance, (for he was ever afraid to be alone in this work,) he entered the pul- pit immediately and preached from 1 Pet. i. 15. “ But as he which hath called you ' is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of con- , versation.” And at this time he was so remarkably helped that all acknowledged that God was with him of a truth. When the unhappy differences betwixt the resolutioners and protesters took place in the church, Binning adhered to the latter of these denominations. This distinction, however, proved of fatal consequence. He saw some of the evils of it in his own time, and being of a catholic and healing spirit, with a view to the cementing of differences, he wrote an excellent treatise on Christian Love, which contains many strong and pathetic passages, most apposite to this subject. He was no fomenter of faction, 1 but studious of the public tranquillity. He HUGH BINNING. 367 was a man of moderate principles and temperate passions, never imposing or I overbearing upon others, but willingly j hearkened to advice, and always yielded | to reason. | It was on Saturday, the 19th of April, 1651, that Cromwell came to Glasgow with the principal part of his army ; and next day he was present at sermon in the High Church, where he heard Robert Ramsay, John Carstairs, and James Durham. Their plain dealing, however, and freedom of speech in condemning him and his army for invading Scotland, not being at all to Cromwell’s taste, he summoned these three and all the other clergymen of the city to a meeting in his own lodgings, that he might vindicate himself and his confederates from the charges which had been brought against them, and at the same time hear what his accusers had to advance in their own defence. “ At this conference, which appears to have been conducted with good temper on both sides,” says Dr Leishman, “ they who spoke most on the part of the Scottish clergy, were Mr Patrick Gillespie, prin- cipal of the University of Glasgow, and Mr James Guthrie, minister of Stirling, who forfeited his life at Edinburgh soon after the Restoration. On the other side, the principal speakers were Cromwell himself, and general Lambert, who, like many other of the parliamentary officers, was a preacher, as well as a soldier. Some of Cromwell’s chaplains are also repre- sented as having taken a share in the discus- sion, along with the Rev. Hugh Binning. Cromwell, it is said, was struck with the fearlessness and ability of so young a minister. c Who is that learned and bold young man V said he. When he was told his name was Binning, he replied, 6 He has bound well. But,’ he added, putting his hand, at the same time, to his sword, ; this will loose all again.’ ” After he had laboured four years in the ( ministry, serving God with his spirit in the gospel of his Son, whom he preached, warn- ing every man and teaching every man in ; great ministerial wisdom and freedom, that j he might present every man perfect in j Christ Jesus, — whereunto he laboured, j striving according to his working, which | wrought in him mightily, — he died of a j consumption, when entering on the twenty- sixth year of his age, leaving behind him a sweet savour and an epistle of commenda- tion upon the hearts of his hearers. While j he lived, he was highly valued and esteemed, having been a successful instrument of sav- j ing himself and them that heard him ; of turning sinners unto righteousness, and of j perfecting the saints; and died much lamented by all good people, who had an ! opportunity of knowing him. He was a man of singular piety, of an humble, meek and peaceful disposition, and a judicious and lively preacher. He was justly ac- counted a prodigy for his natural talents, his great proficiency in human learning, and an extensive knowledge of divinity; but he was too shining a light to shine long, burning so intensely that he was soon extinguished, Now, however, he shines in the kingdom of his Father, in a more con- , spicuous and refulgent manner, even as the j “brightness of the firmament, and as the | stars for ever and ever.” The last sermons he preached were those on Rom. viii. 14, 15. “ For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons ; of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear ; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.” He concluded the last of these discourses with a reflection on these words, “We cry, Abba, Father.” He was buried in the churchyard of Govan, where Mr Patrick Gillespie, then principal of the university of Glasgow, at his own proper charges, caused a monument 368 SCOTS WORTHIES. to be erected for him, on which there is to this day the following inscription in Latin : HIC SIT V S EST MR. HTGO BINNINGVS; VIR PIETATE, FACVNDIA, DOCTRINA CLARVS ; PHILOLOGVS, PHUOSOPHVS, THEOLOGYS PRiE STANS ; PR^ECO DENIQVE EYANGELn ITDELIS ET EXJMIVS. QYI E MEDIO RERVM CVRSV SYBLATVS, ANNO ^ TATIS 26, DOM. AYTEM 1653. MYTAYIT PATRIAM NON SOCIETATEM, EO QVOD YTYYS CYM DEO AMBVLAYIT. ET SI QYID VLTRA INQYTRAS, CETERA SILEO ; CVM NEC TY NEC MARMOR HOC CAPIAT.* He left behind him a disconsolate widow and an only son, called John after the grandfather, to whom the grandfather at his death had left the estate of Dalvennan ; but John having been engaged in the in- surrection at Bothwell-bridge, anno 1679, it was forfeited, and he continued dispos- sessed of it -till the year 1690 ; when, by the 18th act of parliament in the said year, the forfeitures and fines past since the year 1655, to the 5th day of November, 1688, were rescinded. His widow was after- wards married to a Mr James Gordon, for some time a presbyterian minister at Comber, in Ireland. She lived to a great age, and died in the year 1694, at Paisley, in the shire of Renfrew, about four or five miles from Govan; which, when the people of that parish heard, the savoury memory they still had of their worthy pastor, made them desire the friends of the deceased to allow them to give her a decent and honourable burial, beside her * “ Here is deposited Mr Hugh Binning, a man distinguished for piety, eloquence and learning ; an eminent philologist, philosopher, and theolo- gian, — in fine a faithful and excellent preacher of the gospel ; who was removed from this lower w orld in the 26th year of his age, and in the year of our Lord, 1653. He changed his country, not^his society ; because w r hen on earth he walked with God. If thou inquirest anything farther, I am silent as to the rest ; since neither thou nor this marble can receive it.” former husband, undertaking to defray all the charges of the funeral, — which was done accordingly. And to this day Bin- ning is mentioned among them with parti- cular veneration. The first of his works that were printed is entitled, “ The Common Principles of the Christian Religion, clearly proved, and singularly improved ; or a Practical Cate- chism, wherein some of the most concern- ing foundations of our faith are solidly laid down ; and that doctrine which is accord- ing to godliness, is sweetly, yet pungently pressed home, and most satisfyingly hand- led.” In the year 1670, another posthu- mous work was printed: it is entitled, “ The Sinner’s Sanctuary ; being forty Sermons upon the Eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, from the first verse down to the sixteenth.” A third treatise was printed at Edinburgh, in the year 1671. The title of it is, “ Fellowship with God, being twenty-eight Sermons on the First Epistle of John, Chap. 1st, and Chap. 2d, Verses 1, 2, 3.” The last treatise that has been printed is, “ Heart Humiliation, or Miscellany Sermons, preached upon some choice texts at several solemn occasions.” There is also a valuable treatise upon Christian Love, consisting of several sheets written in a very small character, — it is divided into chapters ; besides several ser- mons upon very edifying subjects, useful and profitable for our times. There is, likewise, a book published under his name in 4to, consisting of fifty-one pages, with this title, “ An Useful Case of Conscience, learnedly and accurately discussed and resolved, con- cerning associations and confederacies with idolaters, infidels, heretics, malignants, or any other known enemies of truth and godli- ness.” But it is very much questioned by the most intelligent, if that book was really Bin- ning’s. i I ANDREW GRAY. 369 ! ANDREW GRAY. j I In the biography of this illustrious young I divine, there is an uncertainty regarding the exact period of his birth ; but, calculat- ing back from the date of a letter address- ed by him on his deathbed to Lord War- riston, on the 7th day of February, 1656 ; and bearing in mind that he became a licentiate before he had completed his twentieth year, with two years and a half that he was incumbent in his first and only charge, it appears that he must have been born in the year 1633. Having been very early sent to school, he made such rapid progress, that in a comparatively short time he was qualified for entering the ! university — and there, by the sprightliness I of his genius, he made such proficiency both in scholastic learning and divinity, that before he was twenty years of age he was prepared to enter upon the holy office of the ministry. From his very infancy he had studied | the scriptures ; and, like another young j Samson, the Spirit of God began very early to move him; there being such a delightful solemnity in his early conversa- tion, that what Gregory Nazianzen once said of the great Bazil might well be ap- plied to him, — “ That he held forth learn- | ing beyond his age, and fixedness of man- ners beyond his learning.” As an earthen vessel, being thus filled with heavenly treasure, he was quickly licensed to preach, and soon after received a call to be minister of the Outer High Church of Glasgow, although he had hardly arrived at the twentieth year of his age, and therefore considerably below that appointed by the constitution of the church, except in extraordinary cases. No sooner had he entered into his Masters vineyard, than the people from all quarters flocked to hear his sermons, — it being their constant emulation who should be most under the refreshing drops of his ministry; insomuch that, as he and his learned colleague, Mr Durham, were one time walking together in the choir, Mr Durham, observing the multitude throng- ing into the church where Gray was to preach, and only a few going into his own, said to him, “ Brother, I perceive you are to have a throng church to day.” — To which Gray answered, “ Indeed, brother, they are fools to leave you and come to me.” — “ Not so,” replied Durham, “ for none can receive such honour and success in his ministry, except it be given him from heaven. I rejoice that Christ is preached, and that his kingdom and inter- est are gaining ground ; for I am content to be anything, or nothing, that Christ may be all in all.” Gray had a remarkably singular gift in preaching, having much experience in the most mysterious points of Christian prac- tice and profession; indeed, in handling all his subjects, whether doctrinal, or practical, being free from youthful pe- dantry and affectation of human learning, though of a truly classical genius and more than ordinary abilities, he out- stripped many who had entered the Lord’s vineyard before him. His mode of address was animated and rapturous, and well adapted to affect the hearts ( 3 a 370 SCOTS WORTHIES. of his hearers ; nay, he was so helped to press home God’s threatenings upon j the consciences of his hearers, that his j contemporary, Durham, observed, “ that many times he caused the very hairs of their heads to stand on’ end.” Among his other excellencies in preach- ing, this was none of the least, that he could so handle any subject as to make it ' acceptable to every taste, and intelligible to the meanest capacity. He had so learned Christ, that the great bent and aim of his preaching was, to make sinners acquainted with their dangerous state by nature, and to persuade them to believe, and lay hold of the great | salvation. By these singular gifts he was looked upon as a burning and a shining light in the church ; but he was permitted to re- main about two years only, — the Spirit of the Lord as it were lighting up a lamp into a sudden blaze, that was not to re- main long in his church. In reference to this, in a preface to some of his sermons it is very pertinently observed, — “ How awakening, convincing, and reproving, the j example of this very young minister might be to many ministers of the gospel who have been long in the vineyard, but come far short of his labours and progress ! God thinks fit now and then to raise up a child to reprove the sloth and negligence of many thousands of advanced years ; and shows that he can perfect his own praise out of the mouths of babes and suck- lings.” It has been said that Gray often longed for the twenty-second year of his age, j having had a presentiment that he was | then to rest from his labours, and by a j perpetual jubilee enjoy his blessed Lord | and Master for ever. And certain it is, j that in his sermons we often find him ardently praying for the time when he might enter upon the possession of the heavenly inheritance, prepared for him before the foundation of the world. Upon one occasion, when sailing to Dundee in company with Mr Robert Fleming, minister of Cambuslang, he had a very narrow escape from a watery grave. This remarkable interference of Provi- dence for his deliverance furnished him with a theme of gratitude, which he often improved in his after life. Perhaps it may be asked, — what were Gray’s sentiments concerning the public resolutions, seeing he entered the ministry about the third year after these resolutions took place ? To this it is answered : — Whatever his contendings in public were, it is pretty well authenticated that he warmly opposed his colleague Durham, who was suspected of looking favourably upon these defections. His reply to Durham when on his deathbed, when asked what he now thought of these things, was con- clusive : “ I am of the same mind as for- merly, and regret much that I have been so sparing in public against these resolu- tions,” — speaking at the same time so pathetically of their sinfulness, and the calamities they must induce, that Durham, contrary to his former practice, durst never after speak in defence of them. But the time was now drawing nigh when the Lord was about to accomplish what his soul had most anxiously longed for. Having caught fever, he was for several days in great bodily suffering; but his mind was in a state of perfect quietude and serenity. And thus, in a very short time it was permitted to him to pass hy death to the Author of life, — his soul taking flight at the early age of twenty-two, into the arms of his Saviour, whom he had served so faithfully in his day and generation. He was a very singular and pious youth ; and though he died young, he was old in grace, having done much for God in a short time. Both in public and private life, he ANDREW GRAY. 371 possessed a high degree of every domestic and social virtue that could adorn the character of a Christian and a minister; being a loving husband,* an affable friend, ever cheerful and agreeable in conversation, and always ready to exert himself for the relief of those who asked and stood in need of assistance ; whilst his uncommon talents not only endeared him to his brethren, but also to many others from the one extremity of the land to the other, who regarded and esteemed him as one of the most able ad- vocates for the propagation and advance- ment of Christ’s kingdom. It is to be regretted that his dying words were not recorded. In the short but excellent letter, however, sent by him, a little before his death, to lord Warriston, he shows, that he not only had a more clear discovery of the toleration then granted by Cromwell, and the evils that would come upon the country for all these things, but also that he was most sensible of his own case and condition. This more especially appears from the con- clusion of the letter, where he addressed his lordship thus : “ Now, not to trouble your lordship, whom I highly reverence and my soul was knit to you in the Lord, but that you will bespeak my case to the great Master of requests, and lay my broken j state before him who hath pled the desper- ate case of many, according to the sweet word in Lam. iii. 56, 4 Thou hast heard my voice ; hide not thine ear at my breath- ing, at my cry.’ This is all at this tim$** from one in a very weak condition, in a great fever, who, for much of seven nights, hath sleeped little at all, with many other sad particulars and circumstances.” His well-known sermons are printed in several tracts. Those called Gray’s Works * It appears that he had been for a short time married to a worthy young lady, who afterwards became the wife of Mr George Hutcheson, some time minister of the gospel at Irvine. are published in one volume octavo. In addition to the eleven sermons printed some time ago, was lately published a large collection, to the number of fifty-one, en- titled his Select Sermons ; in which only three of those formerly published for con- nexion’s sake, and his letter to lord War- riston, are inserted. By this time, most, if not all, of the sermons ever preached by him are in print. His works praise him in the gates ; and though they are free from the metaphysical speculations of the schools, yet it must be granted, that the excellencies of the ancient fathers and schoolmen all concentrate in them. His doctrine is clear and perspicuous ; his re- proofs weighty ; and his exhortations very powerful; and though, according to the manner of the age in which he lived, they may seem deficient in connexion and cor- rectness of style, yet these are more than counterbalanced by the pleasing variety and excellence of the truths they contain Like the grateful odours of a profusion of flowers, or the delightful harmony of con- cordant sounds, they never fail to impart happiness to the renewed soul. TESTIMONY OF ANDREW GRAY. “ My Lord, — It may seem strange, that after so long interruption of intercourse with your lordship by letters, I should at this juncture of time write to you, wherein there seems to be a toleration of tongues, and lusts, and religion, wherein many by their practice say, 4 our tongues are our own.’ I am afraid, that sad word shall be spoken to Scotland yet seven times more, 4 That whereas he hath chastised with whips, he will now do it by scorpions, and his little finger shall be heavier than his loins in former times.’ If our judgments that seem to approach, were known, and J i 372 SCOTS WORTHIES. these terrible things in righteousness, by which he, whose furnace is in Jerusalem, is like to speak to us, were seen and print- ed on a board, it might make us cry out, ‘ Who shall live when God doth these things, and who can dwell with everlasting burnings V 44 He hath broken his staff of Bands, and is threatening to break his staff of Beauty, that his covenant which he hath made with i all the people might not be broken. Is it not to be feared, c That the sword of the justice of God is bathed in heaven, and will come down to make a sacrifice, not in the land of Idumea, or Bozrah, but on these that were once his people, who have broken his everlasting covenant, and changed his ordinances ?’ What shall Scotland be called? Lo-ruhamah and Lo- ammi, who was termed Beulah and Heph- zibah, 4 A people delighted in, and married to the Lord!’ I think that curse in Zeph. 1 i. 17. is much accomplished in our days, 4 They shall walk like blind men, because they have sinned against the Lord.’ Does not our carriage under all these speaking and afflicting dispensations, fighting against God in the furnace, and our dross not de- parting from us, speak this with our hearts, 4 That for three transgressions, and for four, he will not turn away the punishment of these covenanted lands V And this shall be our blot in all generations — 4 this is that Scotland that in its afflictions sins more and more.’ It is no wonder then, that we be put to our, 4 How long, ho\^ long wilt thou hide thy face ! How long wilt thou forget, 0 Lord ! 0 Lord, how shall thy jealousy burn like a fire, and we hear the confused noise of war, and of 1 rumours of war !’ ! “ Since God has put it, 4 How long wilt thou go about, 0 thou backsliding daugh- ter’ Jer. xxxi. 22, — are ye not gadding 1 about to change, turning his glory into shame, and loving lying vanities ? And there are four How longs that God is put to lament over Scotland, and which are most in Luke ix. 41, — 4 How long shall I be with you, and suffer you ?’ Is not 1 Christ necessitated to depart, and to make us a land sown with salt and grass in our most frequented congregations ? Ay, be- lieve it, ere it be long, these two words j shall be our lot; there is that in Jer. ii. 31, | 4 0 generation, see the word of the Lord ' when these that would not hear him in his word, shall see him in his dispensations ; when all our threatenings shall be preached to our ears ; and that word in Hosea vii. 12, 4 1 will chastise them as their congre- gation hath heard.’ 0 shall poor Scotland serve themselves heirs to the sins of the Gadarenes, to desire Christ to flit out of their coasts, and to subscribe the bill of divorce (in a manner) before Christ sub- scribe it ? It is like, these three sad evi- dences of affliction that are in Isaiah xlvii. 11, 4 shall come upon us in their perfection.’ I shall add no more on a sad subject. 44 My lord, not being able to write to you with my own hand, I have thought fit to present these few thoughts unto you by the hand of a friend. 44 I know not (I will not limit him,) but I may stand within that judgment-hall, where that glorious and spotless high priest doth sit, with that train that does fill the temple : and, 0 to be among the last of these that are bidden come in, and partake of that everlasting peace ! 0 what a poor •Report will the messengers of the covenant and gospel make, whose image they crucify in their hearts, to whom I may apply these words by allusion, 4 The morning of con- version is to them as the terrors of death, and as the terrors of the breaking in of the day to the destroying of them ? What a poor account will some of us make, both as to the answer of our conscience, and as to the answer of his pains taken upon us, , and as to the answer of his promises, and , JAMES DURHAM. 373 as to the answer of his threatenings, and j as to the answer of his commands, and as ; to the answer of our light ? “ I shall say no more, but I am yours in some single respects, I hope, I may say, dying in Christ, Andrew Gray. To Lord Warriston. JAMES DURHAM. This very exemplary reformer was the eldest son of John Durham, Esq., of Easter Powrie, and lineally descended from the ancient and honourable family of Grange Durham, in the parish of Mony- feith, and shire of Angus, — an estate now known by the name of Wedderburn. He is said to have been born about the year 1622 ; but all his biographers are silent regarding his early years, with the excep- tion of an unanimous assent to his juvenile industry, as having been an apt and suc- i cessful scholar. It does not appear that he had any views to the ministry during his academical studies, as he left the university without graduating, and went to live as a private gentleman upon his country estate, where ■ he married a daughter of the laird of Dan- j tervie, who, with her mother, are said to have been very pious women. Through the prejudice of early education, he did not at that time look favourably upon the presbyterian form of church government. Previous to his union with this excellent lady, although guilty of no flagrant and open I violation of the law of God, yet he was much a stranger to vital religion, having merely a name to live, while he was actually dead in trespasses and sins. He had an early lean- ing towards Episcopacy; and therefore rested contented with an outward form of godli- ness, while he was destitute of the saving power thereof. But he was not to remain ( long in this state — the Spirit of God had marked him out for gracious purposes, and he was destined soon to take an active part in the cause of Presbytery. His conversion, therefore, was effected by an incident somewhat remarkable. Being on a visit, along with his wife, to his mother in law, in the parish of Aber- corn, in the county of Linlithgow, and it happening to be the time of the communion, he was through much persuasion, at the entreaty of his wife and mother, prevailed j upon to go to church, upon the Saturday. The minister who officiated that day i caught Durham’s attention so effectually, that he felt much affected. No solicita- tions, therefore, were necessary to induce him to return upon the Sabbath. Having got up early in the morning, he repaired to church with his friends, when a sermon, preached by the Rev. Mr Melville, was made instrumental, in the hand of the Spirit, for determining him to close with Christ, and accept the seal of the covenant, by complying with the Saviour’s invitation, “ Do this in remembrance of me !” Mr Melville’s discourse, upon that occasion, was from 1 Pet. 2. 7, — “ Unto you there- fore which believe he is precious : but unto them which be disobedient, the stone which 374 SCOTS WORTHIES. the builders disallowed, the same is made the head of the corner,” &c. From that time Durham generally called Melville father when he spoke of him. After that he made religion his daily business, and cordially embraced Christ and his church as then established. Reading and medita- tion became his sole delight : and that he might enjoy these without molestation, he caused a private study to be built for him- self, where he was often so serious in his application, that he frequently forgot the hour of meals, and sometimes did not even return an answer to the servant when sent to warn him. By this mode of seclusion, he became not only an experimental Christian, but a very learned man; ready in debate, and perfect master of polemical divinity.* Such was also his reputation in the country, that he was frequently chosen arbiter by the people to settle any disputes that arose among them ; and to his decision all bowed submissively. In this respect, the language of Job might well be applied to him, — “ Unto him men gave ear, and waited, and kept silence at his counsel.” During the civil wars, he took up arms, with many others of the gentlemen, for the cause of religion, and was chosen captain of a company. In this situation he might be esteemed another Cornelius, being a most devout man, and one who not only feared God with all his house, but even * At one time when upon a visit to Dundee, he happened to be in company with one of the minis- ters there, when the conversation turned upon the Popish controversy. Durham supported his part of the argument so dexterously, that the minister left the room, and went to the provost, asking his assistance to apprehend a Jesuit; who, if permitted to remain in the town, might pervert many from the faith. When the provost saw the gentleman, he saluted him most familiarly, as laird of Easter Powrie, and turning to the parson, said, — “ Fy, Fy! Sir, that any country gentleman should be able thus to put our parson to silence !” Durham smiled, and asked pardon. prayed with his company, and seriously exhorted them regarding the interests of their souls. The circumstance of his call to the ministry was somewhat singular. When the Scots army were about to engage with the English, he thought it proper to call his company to prayer before the engagement ; and as he began, Mr David Dickson, then professor of divinity at Glasgow, coming past the army, and seeing the soldiers! engaged in prayer, and hearing the voice of one praying, drew near, alighted from j his horse, and joined with them. He was so much captivated by Durham’s prayer, ! that he immediately after waited upon | him, and solemnly charged him, that as soon as this should be over he should devote himself to the ministry; because he judged the Lord called him to this. Although Durham was not at that time fully resolved to comply with Mr Dickson’s advice, yet two remarkable providences falling out immediately after, he was very soon induced to yield obedience — The first was, that in the engagement, his horse was shot under him, and he was mercifully preserved ; the second, that in the heat of the battle, an English soldier, on the point of striking him down with his sword, but apprehending him to be a minister by his grave carriage, black cloth and band, which was then in fashion with gentlemen, asked him if he was a priest ? To which Durham replied, I am one of God’s priests ; — and so his life was spared. Upon re- flecting how wonderfully the Lord had thus saved him, and that his stating him- self to be a priest had been the cause of his preservation, he at once resolved, in testimony of his grateful sense of the Lord’s goodness, thenceforth to devote himself to His service in the holy ministry, if He should see meet to qualify him for the same. In pursuance of this resolution, he soon JAMES DURHAM. 375 after went to Glasgow, studied divinity under his respected friend, and made such proficiency, that he offered himself for trials in 1646, and was licensed by the presbytery of Irvine to preach the gospel. Next year, upon Mr Dickson’s recommen- dation, the session of Glasgow directed Mr Ramsay, one of the ministers, to re- quest Durham to come to town and preach. He accordingly came, and preached two sabbaths and one week-day ; and the session being fully satisfied with his doc- trine, and the gifts bestowed on him by the Lord for serving Him in the ministry, unanimously called him to Blackfriars’ church, then vacant, to which he was ordained in November, 1647. He applied himself to the work of the ministry with great diligence ; but, con- sidering that no man that warreth en- tangleth himself with the affairs of this life, he obtained leave to visit the place of his nativity to settle his worldly affairs. While there, however, he preached every sabbath. His first appearance was at Dundee, where he preached from Rom. i. 16, — “ I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ;” the second, at Ferling, where he delivered an eloquent discourse from 2 Cor. v. 20, — “ We then are ambassadors for Christ,” &c. ; next sabbath he in- tended to preach at Montrose ; but re- ceiving an express that his wife was dangerously ill, he returned to Glasgow, where in a few days, she, who had been the desire of his eyes, died. His Christian submission under this afflicting dispensa- tion was very remarkable. After a short silence, he said to some about him, “ Now, who could persuade me that this dispensa- tion of God’s providence was good for me, if the Lord had not said it was so?” — He was afterwards married to Margaret Muir, relict of Zachariah Boyd, minister of the Barony church of Glasgow. In 1650, Mr Dickson, professor of di- vinity, being called to the same office in the university of Edinburgh, the commis- sioners of the General Assembly, authorized to visit the university of Glasgow, un- : SCOTS WORTHIES. | 376 | animously invited Durham to succeed him. , But before he was admitted to that charge, I the General Assembly, persuaded of his eminent piety, steadfastness, prudence, and ! moderation, after mature deliberation, se- 1 lected him, though then only twenty-eight : years of age, to attend the king’s family as chaplain. In this situation, though the times were extremely difficult, he acquitted ; himself so wisely and faithfully as to merit j the approbation of all who observed him. I Indeed, during his stay at court, such was I his high Christian decorum, that levity was | overawed in his presence. His great ambi- I tion was to have God’s favour rather than I that of great men, and he studied more to I profit and edify their souls, than to please I their fancies. He continued in this office till the King returned to England, after which he re- i sumed his professional labours. Towards the end of January 1651, the common session of Glasgow instructed Mr Gillespie to write him, stating that Mr Ramsay was officiating as professor of divinity, and | urging his return to his charge ; in conse- quence of which we find him present at ! the session in the beginning of April there- ! after. Cromwell, being in Glasgow with | his army at the time, went, first Lord’s | day, to church ; and Durham, without the least intimidation, openly inveighed to his face against his unjustifiable invasion, i Next day Cromwell sent for him, and said, I he always thought he had been a wiser man than to meddle with public affairs in his sermons. — To which Durham answered, that it was not his practice, but he judged j it both wisdom and prudence to speak his mind on that head, seeing he had the ! opportunity to do so in his presence. — 1 Cromwell dismissed him very civilly, but j desired him not to meddle with such sub- | jects in future. It would appear that Durham had withdrawn from Glasgow for some time i after this ; and therefore a letter was in August thereafter sent to him to come and preach ; and in September, there being a vacancy in the Inner High Church by reason of the death of Mr Ramsay, the common session gave him a unanimous call, with which the town council agreed. Accordingly, he was admitted minister of that church, — Mr John Carstairs, his brother-in-law, being his colleague. During the whole of his ministry he was distinguished for humility and self- denial ; and being a person of the utmost sedateness of manner, he was seldom seen to smile — however, being once at dinner in a gentleman’s family, along with Mr William Guthrie, who was a very pleasant and cheerful companion, he was so far overcome as to laugh aloud at some of Mr Guthrie’s smart sayings. It being also the custom of the family to join in prayer after dinner, Mr Guthrie was asked to offer up an address, which he did with such becoming solemnity, as to elicit from Durham the following brief eulogium, — •“ O William, you are a happy man; if I had been as merry as you have been, I could not have been in such a serious frame for prayer, for the space of forty-eight hours !” Though he was very devout in every part of his ministerial work, he was especially so upon communion occasions. At these he endeavoured, through grace, to elevate his mind to such a divine frame, as befits the spirituality and high importance of the ordinance of the supper. Upon some of those sweet and solemn occasions, he spoke like one who had been in heaven, recom- mending the Saviour, making a glorious display of his free grace, and bringing the offer thereof so low, and pressing it so urgently, especially in a discourse from Mat. xxii. 4., that it was a wonder to sinners themselves how they could refuse ! to close with them. His pacific turn of mind, and great II 11 JAMES DURHAM. 377 moderation of spirit, appeared remarkably at the period when the church was griev- ously divided betwixt the revolutioners and protesters ; and as he would never give judgment on either side, he used to say, “ That division was far worse than either.” He was equally respected by both parties; for, at the meeting of synod at Glasgow, when the different bodies met separately, each made choice of Durham for their moderator ; but he refused to accept, until they would unite ; which they did ac- cordingly. So weighty was the ministerial charge upon his spirit, that he used to say, if he were to live ten years longer, he would choose to live nine years in study, for preaching the tenth ; and it was believed that his close study and application brought on the decay of which he died. During his last sickness, about a month before his death, he named as his successor, Mr Yeitch, then minister of Go van ; but after- wards, when dying, in presence of the magistrates, ministers, and some others who waited on him, he named other three. This alteration led Mr Carstairs to in- quire the reason, after the rest were gone ; to whom Durham in reply, said, “ 0 brother, Mr Yeitch is too ripe for heaven to be transported to any church on earth ; he will be there almost as soon as I,” — and this proved to be the case ; for, Dur- ham having died on the Friday following, Mr Yeitch preached the next Sabbath ; and though he knew nothing of this, he told the people in the afternoon, it would be his last sermon to them ; and the same night taking bed, he died next Friday morning about three o’clock, as Dr Rat- tray, who was present at both their deaths, declared. When on his deathbed, Durham was under considerable darkness about his spiri- tual state, and said to Mr John Carstairs — “ Brother, for all that I have preached or written, there is but one scripture I can remember or dare grip unto ; tell me if I dare lay the weight of my salvation upon it — 1 “ Whosoever cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.” Mr Carstairs answered, “ You may depend upon it, though you had a thousand salvations at hazard.” When drawing near his departure, and in great conflict and agony, he cried out in a rap- ture of holy joy, a little before he com- mitted his soul to God, “ Is not the Lord good? Is he not infinitely good? See how he smiles ! I do say it, and I do pro- claim it.” Thus died that eminent saint, on Friday the 25th of June 1658, in the thirty-sixth year of his age, whose labours had always aimed at the advancement of religion, and whose praise is throughout all the churches, both at home and abroad. He was a star of the first magnitude, of whom it may be said, without derogating from the merit of any, that he “ had a name among the mighty.” His colleague, Mr John Carstairs, in his funeral sermon, from Isa. lvii. 1, “ The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart; and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come,” gave him the following character : — “ Know ye not that there is a prince among the pas- tors fallen to-day ! a faithful and wise steward, that knew well how to give God’s children their food in due season ; a gentle and kind nurse ; a faithful admonisher and reprover ; a skilful counsellor in all straits and difficulties ; in dark matters he was eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, a burn- ing and shining light in the dark world, an interpreter of the word, one among a thou- sand ; to him men gave ear, and after his words no man spake again.” Not only in the city, but also in the country, did his brethren in the presbytery allude to his death ; and in particular, Mr Yeitch, whose death he had foretold, was forward 3 B 378 SCOTS WORTHIES. amongst others to pay a tribute to his character. His learned and pious works, in which concentrate all the excellencies of the primitive and ancient fathers, are a Com- mentary on the Revelation ; seventy- two Sermons on the fifty-third chapter of the Prophecy of Isaiah ; an Exposition of the Ten Commandments; an Exposition of the Song of Solomon ; his Sermons on Death ; on the Unsearchable Riches of Christ ; his Communion Sermons ; Sermons on Godli- ness and Self-denial ; a Sermon on a Good Conscience. There were lately a great many of his sermons in manuscript un- published, viz., three Sermons upon Resist- ing the Holy Ghost, from Acts vii. 51. ; eight on Quenching the Spirit ; five upon Grieving the Spirit ; thirteen upon Trusting and Delighting in God; two against Im- moderate Anxiety; eight upon the One Thing Needful; with a Discourse upon Prayer, and several other sermons and discourses. There is also a Treatise on Scandal, and an Exposition, by way of Lecture, upon Job, said to be his ; but whether these, either as to style or strain, cohere with the other works of the laborious Durham, must be left to the impartial and unbiassed reader, to determine. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. Considerable doubt exists as to the birth- place and parentage of this celebrated di- vine. The most probable opinion, however, is that which has been stated by Wodrow, that he was sprung of poor and honest parents in Teviotdale.* Where he re- ceived his early education, has never been ascertained; but he seems to have given such indications of talent, as to have encouraged his parents in affording him an opportunity of still farther prosecuting his studies. Accordingly, in 1617, he was • This statement is in part corroborated by re- cent inquiries ; and, it may at length be affirmed, that Samuel Rutherford was born in the parish of Nisbet, now annexed to Crailing, in the presby- tery of Jedburgh. Mr Brown, minister of Crail- ing, states “ that he was born at Nisbet, where the house in which he was born, or at least a house situated on the same spot, is pointed out.” — Mur- ray's Life of Rutherford. sent to the university of Edinburgh ; and in four years, he obtained the degree of Master of Arts.* At college, Rutherford distinguished himself among his fellow- students by his attainments, particularly in classical literature ; so that in two years after he had received his degree in the arts, he was elected professor of humanity. At the time when he was admitted a regent, the university, though it had only existed for forty years, had attained no small celebrity, and possessed, among its professors, some men of fame and of ex- tensive scholarship. With such associates Rutherford entered upon his important * The professors under whom Rutherford studied were, Andrew Stevenson, regent of humanity, and Andrew Young, one of the regents of philosophy, — men of great respectability as teachers, though not much known as authors. — Ibid. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 379 duties with enthusiasm and energy; and there is little doubt that he must have proved a most able and successful teacher. Of this, however, we have no certain in- formation, as his connexion with the uni- versity appears to have terminated in the short space of two years. In 1627, we find him settled as parish minister of Anwoth, in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright.* This appointment he obtained through Gordon of Kenmure, a gentleman distinguished in those days as the assiduous and active promoter of true religion, as far as his influence extended. At the period when Rutherford became minister of Anwoth, prelacy had so far gained the ascendancy over presbyterian- ism, that although many secretly adhered to the principles of their fathers, the juris- diction of bishops in Scotland was openly recognised and avowed. No minister could enter upon a charge without declaring his submission to all the conditions imposed by the bishop of the diocese within which the parish was situated. In the case of Rutherford, however, there seems to have been an exception ; for, according to the statement of Mr M‘Ward, his friend and pupil, corroborated by Wodrow, he ob- tained full possession of all his rights and privileges as a parish minister, “ without I giving any engagement to the bishop.” The harmony which prevailed in the * The Church of Anwoth was built for Ruther- ford in 1626. A new parish church has been built , lately ; but the heritors, much to their honour, have preserved the ancient venerated building. It is of a barn-like appearance, the length being 64 feet, 7 inches ; the width, 18 feet, 3 inches ; the side walls only 10 feet, calculated to hold not above 250 sitters, exclusive of small galleries, which are of comparatively recent erection. The pulpit is of oak, and is the very one out of which the cele- brated subject of these pages preached. His stipend consisted of 200 merks Scots, about £11 sterling, derived from the tenants of the parish, and of a voluntary contribution on the part of his hearers. — Murray's Life of Rutherford. parish of Anwoth on the reception of Rutherford as their pastor was peculiarly gratifying to his mind, and afforded him the prospect of much comfort and useful- ness : and in this respect his anticipations were more than realized. The people loved and revered him ; they waited upon his ministry with regularity and evident profit ; for, to use the words of his con- temporary, Livingstone, “ while he was at Anwoth, he was the instrument of much good among a poor ignorant people, many of whom he brought to the knowledge and practice of religion.” The industry and zeal with which Rutherford discharged his important functions as a minister, are al- most incredible. He was accustomed to rise every morning at three o’clock ; the early part of the day was devoted to prayer, meditation, and study; and the rest to his more public duties, such as the visitation of the sick, and the catechising of the different families of his flock. “ My witness is above,” he says in one of his letters to his beloved people, “ that your heaven would be two heavens to me, and the salvation of you all as two salvations to me .” The fame of Rutherford was not con- fined to his own parish, but extended also to the surrounding district. Multitudes came from all quarters to Anwoth on the Sabbath, and more especially on sacra- mental occasions, to listen to the faithful ministrations of this devoted minister of Christ. For a few years after he came to Galloway, his life was a scene of un- clouded prosperity, of unbroken and un- interrupted peace. As a follower of Him who said, “ In the world ye shall have tribulation,” the pious Rutherford could not, and in reality did not, expect that such a state of things would always con- tinue. Many were the trials which yet awaited him in this vale of tears ; and ere long he began to feel that suffering of one SCOTS WORTHIES. 380 kind or another is the portion of man, and more especially of the man who is to be distinguished by high attainments in the divine life, or extensive usefulness in the church of God. He was doomed to ex- perience severe family distress and painful bereavements. His wife, after a tedious and protracted illness of thirteen months, died in June 1630, in less than five years after their marriage. Her children seem to have been cut off before her, so that Rutherford was left alone to lament his loss. To add to his distress, he had been ! seized — previously to the decease of his I wife — with a fever which continued for J thirteen weeks, leaving him, on his recovery, in such a state of debility as to suspend for a time his attention to his pastoral duties. Amid his accumulated sorrows, however, he endured as seeing him who is invisible, and knowing that in heaven he had an everlasting portion, which no time, no change, could destroy. And he derived no small consolation from the kindness and sympathy of lady Kenmure, the pious wife of Gordon of Kenmure, who had been recently raised to the peerage. The intimacy which subsisted between Rutherford and the Kenmure family had been productive of much spiritual advan- tage to both parties ; and on his death-bed, lord Kenmure appears to have been in- debted, under the blessing of God, to this devoted minister for the clear views of divine truth which he was enabled to ! entertain, and the striking testimony which in his last moments he was privileged to bear to the saving power and efficacy of the gospel. Rutherford lamented the death of his patron in an elegiac poem, ; written in Latin ; and in 1649 he pub- lished, “ The Last and Heavenly Speeches, i and Glorious Departure of John Viscount ; Kenmure a work in which the author gives a detailed account of the conferences which he held with that nobleman in re- ference to his spiritual and everlasting concerns. Rutherford now took a still greater interest than ever in the spiritual welfare of lady Kenmure; and he con- tinued to maintain a frequent correspond- ence with her on religious subjects through- out the whole of his life. One of the last letters, indeed, he ever wrote, was to this excellent lady. From the position which Rutherford held, as the most influential minister in the county within which he resided, his correspondence on public mat- ters was very extensive. The age in which he lived was one of melancholy interest to the Church of Scotland. The attempt, first of James VI., and then of Charles I., to impose upon the Scottish Presbyterians the yoke of episcopacy, had been uniformly resisted, but with varied success ; and though at the period to which we now refer, when Rutherford was located in Galloway, prelacy was triumphant in the country, yet he was well known to entertain opinions decidedly in favour of presbytery. And these sentiments, however opposite to the then ascendant party, he was far from concealing, but openly avowed them whenever an opportunity of doing so oc- curred. In any other individual than Rutherford, probably, such conduct would not have been tolerated. The high re- spect, however, in which he was held by men of all parties, and the tolerant spirit of bishop Lamb, who then presided over the diocese of Galloway, prevented him from being subjected to the persecution which would have otherwise fallen to his lot. While thus permitted calmly to prosecute his ministerial duties, he published a very learned and elaborate work upon the Arminian controversy. Rutherford’s sen- timents were strictly Calvinistic, and the ability and logical tact with which he supported his own views, and refuted the arguments of his opponents, soon estab- lished his fame as a powerful controver- SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. sialist and a sound divine. The estimation in which he was held in the neighbour- hood of Anwoth was truly gratifying ; and as a proof of it. we may mention that when Mr Glendinning, minister of Kirk- cudbright, had become unfit, from age and infirmities, to discharge efficiently the duties of his office, an application was made to Rutherford to accept of the situa- tion. This offer, however, he conscien- tiously declined. “ Great solicitation,” says he, “ is made by the town of Kirkcudbright, for to have the use of my poor labours among them. If the Lord shall call and his people cry, Who am I to resist ? But without his seen calling, and till the flock whom I now oversee, be planted with one to whom I dare intrust Christ’s spouse, gold nor silver, nor favour of men, I hope, shall not loose me.” Though thus unwilling to leave his affectionate flock at Anwoth, his ministry among them was, in the mysterious ar- I rangement of Providence, about to be | interrupted for a time. In consequence ! of the death of bishop Lamb, in 1634, Thomas Sydserff,* bishop of Brechin, a man of Arminian principles, and of an intolerant character, was translated to the see of Galloway. Nq sooner had the new diocesan entered upon his office, than he proceeded to adopt the most arbitrary and unpopular measures. He erected a High * Thomas Sydserff was in succession bishop of I Brechin, Galloway, and Orkney. He was son of I Sydserff of Ruchlaw, an ancient family of whom | one is a subscriber to Ragman’s Roll in 1296 . j Sydserff’s first appointment, as a clergyman, was to the college church in Edinburgh, having for his colleague, Henry Rollock, nephew to the Princi- pal; but he was deposed and excommunicated, by the Assembly of Glasgow, in 1638 , when bishop of Galloway, for maintaining Arminianism, and from a supposed leaning to popery. He then withdrew to England, but was afterwards restored by the government, and nominated to the see of Orkney. He lived little more than a year after his translation . — Murray's Life of Rutherford. 381 Commission Court within his diocese, composed exclusively of his own depend- ents ; and, before this court were forthwith summoned all who would not conform in every respect to the demands of prelacy. To Sydserff, the faithful pastor of Anwoth was peculiarly obnoxious ; and as soon as possible, therefore, he was accused of non- conformity before a High Commission Court, held at Wigtown in 1636, and deprived of his ministerial office. The bishop was anxious to have this sentence confirmed by a court of the same kind held at Edinburgh, and there accordingly Rutherford was cited to appear, when, for three days, accusations of the most ex- travagant nature were preferred against him. With the undaunted fortitude of conscious integrity, he replied to their charges ; but although the strongest in- fluence was exerted in his behalf, and although the evidence was insufficient to convince any other than prejudiced minds, judgment was given against him. He was deposed from the pastoral office, and sentenced to be confined within the town of Aberdeen, during the king’s pleasure. The sentence passed upon this faithful servant of Christ, severe and unjust though it was, did not discourage him. He seems, on the contrary, to have been able, like the great apostle of the Gentiles, to “ glory in tribulation.” “ I go to my King’s palace at Aberdeen,” said he ; “ tongue, and pen, and wit, cannot express my joy.” A short period only being allotted him between the passing of the sentence and the com- mencement of his term of imprisonment, he had no opportunity of returning to see his friends in Galloway. On his journey to “ Christ’s palace in Aberdeen,” as he called it, he paid a visit to the Rev. David Dickson, minister of Irvine, a man of great piety and learning, who afterwards filled, with very high honour, the chair of theo- logy in the college of Edinburgh. On entering the town which was appointed to be the place of his imprisonment, Ruther- ford was accompanied by a deputation of his people from Anwoth, who had travelled many miles to testify their sincere regard for their devoted pastor, who was now about to enjoy the exalted privilege of being “ the Lord’s prisoner.” “ In the world ye shall have tribulation, but in me ye shall have peace.” At this period, Aberdeen was the strong- ! hold of episcopacy and Arminianism. The most influential men, both clerical and lay, j were violently opposed to Presbytery; and j in these circumstances, Rutherford could i not be expected to feel much comfort or | happiness in their society. Gradually, however, the inhabitants began to take an interest in him as a persecuted servant of God. Such, at length, was the attention j and kindness shown him by many respec- I table citizens of the place, that he was permitted to conduct religious services in their families. Intelligence of this fact soon reached the ears of the professors of the University and the ministers of the city, who thought it necessary to take steps for i the diminution, if possible, of his influence. For this purpose, they denounced, from the pulpit, presbyterian principles, and I challenged Rutherford to engage with them in public disputations. But all was un- availing ; he became more popular and i influential than ever, and his opinions spread among the people to an extent which, to his enemies, was quite alarming. In this dilemma, application was made to the legislature to have him either confined more strictly, or sent farther north than Aberdeen, or banished from the kingdom altogether.* The last expedient was * His residence in Aberdeen was marked by great mortification and sorrow, of which his “ dumb sabbaths” was one of the chief sources. “ My silence on the Lord’s day,” he observes, “ keeps me from being exalted above measure. By reason of adopted by the king, who despatched a warrant to Scotland for the banishment of Rutherford. With the greatest calmness and composure he looked forward to the prospect of banishment. “ Whither I go,” said he, “ I know not : but I am ready at the Lord’s call.” The Lord, however, in his providence interposed, and, by a train of unexpected events, prevented the war- rant from being ever carried into exe- cution. While imprisoned in Aberdeen, Ruther- ford felt deeply for his attached flock at Anwoth. Bishop Sydserff had attempted to thrust in upon them a minister, who, being both an episcopalian and an Ar- minian, was violently opposed by the peo- ple. They still regarded their former pas- tor as having been unjustly withdrawn from them, and they longed and prayed, therefore, for his return. This happy event, in the course of affairs, was at last accomplished. It was during the struggle which presby- terians successfully made at this period to resist the innovations of prelacy, that Rutherford quitted his imprisonment at Aberdeen, and returned to the pastoral charge of his flock at Anwoth.* As had been judged necessaiy on former occasions of trouble in the Church, it was now deemed suitable by the presbyterians in different parts of the country to renew the National Covenant ; and while this solemn ceremony was carrying forward at Glasgow, Rutherford preached in the High Church of that city, having been requested by the my silence, sorrow, sorrow, hath filled me : my harp is hanged up on the willow-trees, because I am in a strange land .” — Murray s Life of Rutherford. * At what particular date Rutherford left Aber- deen, can be known only from inference. It seems to have been in the month of February, 1638, “six quarters of ane yeir,” from the time of his banish- ment, August 1636, at a period when the episco- pal interest was nearly annihilated. — Ibid. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 383 inhabitants to preside, preparatory to their subscribing that instrument. In the General Assembly which was convened at Glasgow on the 21st Novem- ber, 1638, Rutherford, along with others who had incurred the censures of the High Commission Court, were called upon to ex- plain the grounds on which they had been accused ; and, after due deliberation, a de- cision was passed in favour of the perse- cuted ministers, and they were recognised as members of court. At this Assembly, one of the most memorable in the annals of the Scottish Church, prelacy was abo- lished, and the presbyterian constitution, even in its minutest details, hilly re-estab- lished. The bishops were deprived of their power, and the greater number of them were excommunicated. In all the pro- ceedings of this eventful period, Rutherford took a lively interest, rejoicing in the triumph of those principles which he had so long and so consistently advocated, and for which he had endured so many and severe privations. Shortly after the meeting of the Glasgow Assembly, an application was made by the city of Edinburgh to the Assembly’s Com- mission, to have Rutherford transferred from Anwoth to the metropolis, that he might have the opportunity of exercising his talents in a more important and exten- sive sphere. Another application, how- ever, was made to have him appointed professor of divinity in the new college, St Andrews. The Commission preferred the latter situation. Petitions against his re- moval were presented from the county of Galloway, and from the parishioners of Anwoth, and he himself urged, in a re- spectful petition, his “ bodily weakness and mental incapacity.” All was unavailing ; the interests of the church demanded his appointment, and the Commission therefore ordained that he should occupy a chair for which he was considered as pre-eminently qualified. He still, however, entertained hopes that the Assembly, at its next meet- ing, would refuse to confirm the decision of the Commission. In this, however, he was disappointed, and nothing remained for him but to submit calmly to his re- | moval from his beloved people. The office which Rutherford was now called to occupy was one of the most useful and highly honourable to which he could have been promoted. He felt the responsibility con- nected with its duties : but after the deep distress he had experienced at Aberdeen on account of his “silent Sabbaths,” he could not bear the thought of being de- prived of the privilege of publicly proclaim- ing the gospel of Christ. On his earnest application, therefore, to the Assembly, they yielded to his wishes on this point, and ap- pointed him colleague to Mr Robert Blair, who had been recently translated from Ayr, ' to be one of the ministers of the town of j St Andrews. A few months subsequent to his trans- lation to St Andrews, Rutherford entered a second time into the marriage relation, j after a widowhood of nearly ten years. Having thus made provision for his domes- tic comfort, he continued to discharge his public duties, both in teaching and preach- ing, with unwearied assiduity and consci- entiousness. For some time his situation was one of peculiar happiness and tran- quillity; and it would have continued so, had not both he and his colleague felt themselves called upon to join their bre- thren in resisting the wishes of their peo- ple, who were exceedingly desirous that Mr Andrew Affleck, the minister of Largo, should be chosen one of the ministers of St Andrews. The people, being disap- pointed of their object, began to cool in their attachment both to Rutherford and Blair, who, feeling that their usefulness would be injured by this alienation of the affections of their flock, applied to the SCOTS WORTHIES. 384 Assembly for an act of transportability, as it was called, or the privilege of accepting a call to another charge, if such a call should be given them. The request was granted, and in a few weeks Rutherford was invited to become minister of West Calder, in the presbytery of Linlith- gow. This call he gladly accepted, and his acceptance was ratified by the supreme court ; but in consequence of the resistance of the university of St Andrews, the matter was prosecuted no further, and he still re- mained both in his professorship and min- isterial charge. In the public concerns of the church and the country Rutherford was deeply inter- ested. Himself a conscientious admirer of Presbytery, he rejoiced in the complete establishment of the system in Scotland, and the increasing attachment to it which was manifested in England. To his prin- ciples he firmly adhered; and such was the confidence reposed in him by his brethren, that he was appointed by the Assembly one of the Scots Commissioners to the General Assembly of Divines, held at Westminster. On this important mission he remained in London four years, and by his talents and learning proved no small acquisition to the venerable Synod. In their discussions he and his fellow-commissioners took an am- ple share ; and the result of their important deliberations was both gratifying to him- self personally, and satisfactory to those over whose interests he had been deputed to watch. In drawing up the Directory for Public Worship, the Confession of Faith, the Larger and Shorter Catechisms, and the Form of Church Government, Rutherford was actively employed along with the other members of the Synod. While in London, however, he did not limit his labours to the business of the Synod of Divines ; he was also engaged in the preparation of various controversial as well as practical works, of a theological kind, which he published during that period. 1 The only publication, not strictly in accord- | ance with his profession as a divine, which he produced on this occasion, was one en- titled “ Lex, Rex,” — The Law and the King — which was intended as a reply to a book which had been published in support of absolute monarchy. Though thus busily occupied, however, he longed to return to his important duties at St Andrews, and i the more so as his own declining health, as well as that of his wife, seemed to call for a removal to his native country. His distress, besides, had been still farther ag- gravated by the death of two of his chil- dren, in addition to two which he had lost j a short time before leaving Scotland. In j these circumstances he had made frequent j applications to be released from his attend- j ance in London. But, for a considerable j time, it was not deemed expedient to com- j ply with his request, — his presence at the Westminster Assembly being regarded as too important to be dispensed with. At length, however, the Assembly of 1647 permitted him to return home. The able and efficient manner in which Rutherford discharged the high trust re- posed in him, as one of the Commissioners to the Synod of Divines at Westminster, raised him higher than ever in the estima- tion of his countrymen ; and accordingly, a few months after he had resumed his ; duties at St Andrews, he was appointed principal of the New College. The hon- our thus conferred on him brought him very little, if any, additional labour ; it was a gratifying proof to him, however, that his merits, both as an author and a divine, were duly appreciated. In 1649, an attempt was made in the General Assembly to pro- cure his transference to the Divinity Chair at Edinburgh ; but this intention, as Baillie states, being “thought absurd,” was laid aside. About the same time a university having been established at Harderwyck, in SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 385 Holland, he was invited to occupy the chair | ! of Divinity and Hebrew in that seminary. | This invitation, as well as a similar i application shortly after from Utrecht, he ! respectfully declined, — being unwilling to abandon the Church of Scotland, at a period when his services were so much required. In prosecuting his laborious engage- | ments at St Andrews, he still found time ! to publish several important works. The 1 1 year after his return from London he pro- |! duced a controversial work against the S Antinomians, and in the year following, a I Treatise in reply to Jeremy Taylor’s Liberty of Prophesying.” In 1651, ap- peared his large work “ On Providence,” ! in opposition to the Jesuits, the Arminians, | and the Socinians. At this period, in consequence of the death of Charles I., who, though he had been obliged to make concessions, was still | at heart the inveterate enemy of Presby- I tery, considerable fears were entertained | by the Scottish people, that under the j government of his son, who, it was thought, | would succeed him, their ecclesiastical privileges might be again abridged. Charles II. was crowned at Scone ; and in passing through Fifeshire, before his coronation, the young king visited St Andrews, when Rutherford delivered before him an oration in Latin, dwelling chiefly upon the duty of kings. In the meantime, however, the Independents had acquired the ascendancy, and England had become a republic. The events which followed during the usurpa- tion of Cromwell, and onward to the Re- storation, it is impossible in our limited space minutely to detail. Suffice it to say that in the proceedings of that stormy period Rutherford acted a very conspicu- ous part ; and from the unflinching tenacity with which he maintained the opinions he had adopted, he was regarded by many of his brethren, more especially of the pres- bytery of St Andrews and the Synod of ! Fife, as actuated too strongly by party- spirit. Amid all the commotions, however, in which he found himself involved, he pub- lished several valuable works on practical theology, as well as some productions of a controversial nature. The last work, of which he lived to superintend the publica- tion, appeared in 1659, under the title of j “ Influences of the life of Grace.” With ! this piece of practical theology terminated ! the literary labours of a most erudite divine and accomplished scholar. Though the life of Rutherford was now verging to its close, he lived long enough to see the commencement of one of the darkest periods in Scotland’s ecclesiastical, and even her civil history. No sooner had the Second Charles been restored to his kingdom, than steps were taken for the overthrow of Presbytery in his northern dominions. This design he was not long in finding means of accomplishing, and that too in a quarter where it might have been least of all expected. The Scottish parlia- ment, which convened on the 1st of Janu- ary 1661, invested the king with arbitrary power, recalled the Covenant, and abolished Presbyteryj and by one deed, “ the Act Rescissory,” as it was termed, they annulled the decrees of all the parliaments which since 1638 had sanctioned the presbyterian system, or ratified the Solemn League and j Covenant. In such a state of things Rutherford could not expect to escape persecution in one shape or other. His work which he had published when in London, called “ Lex, Rex,” was ordered to be burnt by the hands of the common hangman ; he j was deprived of his offices both in the University and the Church ; his stipend was confiscated ; he himself was ordered to be confined to his own house ; and cited to appear before the ensuing parliament on a j Q r< SCOTS WORTHIES. 386 charge of treason. Thus far they were permitted to harass this eminent servant of God ; but their power could extend no further. His health, which had been i rapidly declining, was now such, that he was quite incapable of obeying the citation to appear before the Parliament. Knowing well that death could not be far distant, he proceeded to arrange all his affairs, that he might leave nothing undone which his friends or the Church expected from him. In his last sickness he bore ample testimony to the saving efficacy of ! that gospel which it had been always his delight to preach, and on the 19th of March, 1661, he yielded up his breath, about five o’clock in the morning, as he himself had foretold.* * On the 28th of April, 1842, the foundation- stone of a colossal monument, called the “ Ruther- ford Monument,” was laid to the memory of this TESTIMONY OF SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. “ Though the Lord needeth not a testi- mony from such a wretched man as I, and if all the world should be silent, the very stones would cry, it is more than debt, that I should confess Christ before men and angels. It would satisfy me not a little, that the throne of the Lord Jesus were exalted above the clouds, the heaven of heavens, and on both sides of the sun ; and that all possible praise and glory were ascribed to him : that, by his grace, I might put my seal, such as it is, unto that song, even the new song of these, who with a loud voice sing, ‘ Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation, and hast made us unto our God kings and priests : and we shall reign upon the earth.’ And blessed were I, could I lay to my ear of faith, and say, Amen, to the Psalm ‘ of the many angels round about the throne, and the beasts and elders, whose number is ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, saying, with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to re- | ceive power, and riches, and wisdom, and j strength, and honour, and glory, and bless- ing ;’ and if I heard c every creature, which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth ; and such as are in the sea ; and all excellent man. It is erected on the farm of Bore- land, in the parish of Anwoth, about half a mile from where Rutherford used to preach, and about the same distance from the Bush of Bield, where his manse was. The site is upon an eminence, about half a mile from Gatehouse. The monu- ment is of granite ; height, from the surface to the apex, 60 feet ; square of the pedestal, 7 feet, with three rows of steps . — See Cut. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. that are in them (as John heard them), saying, Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever.’ I mean not any such visible I reign as the millenarians fancy. I believe j (Lord help my unbelief,) the doctrine of | the holy prophets and the apostles of our I I Lord Jesus Christ, contained in the books | of the Old and New Testament, to be the undoubted truth of God, and a perfect rule of faith, and the only way of salvation. And I do acknowledge the sum of the Christian religion, exhibited in the Con- | fessions and Catechisms of the reformed j protestant churches ; and in the National j Covenant, divers times sworn by the king’s | majesty, the state and Church of Scotland, I and sealed by the testimony and subscrip- i tions of the nobles, barons, gentlemen, ; citizens, ministers, and professors of all ! ranks : as also in the Solemn League and | Covenant, in the three kingdoms of Scot- ! land, England, and Ireland. And I do i judge, and in conscience believe, that no | power on earth can absolve and liberate the people of God from the bonds and I sacred ties of the oath of God. “ Since we are very shortly to appear ! before our dreadful Master and Sovereign, we cannot pass from our protestation, j trusting we are therein accepted of him ; — though we should lie under the imputa- tion of dividing spirits, and unpeaceable I I men. We acknowledge all due obedience, | in the Lord, to the king’s majesty ; but we [ disown that ecclesiastic supremacy, in and over the church, which some ascribe to him ; that power of commanding external worship not appointed in the word; and i laying bonds upon the consciences of men, where Christ has made them free. We disown antichristian prelacy, bowing at the name of Jesus, saints’ days, canonizing of j the dead, and other such corrupt inven- j tions of men, and look on them as the high- way to popery. Alas ! now there is no need of a spirit of prophecy to declare what shall be the woful condition of a land that hath broken covenant, first practically, and then legally, with the Lord our God : and what shall be the day of the silent and dumb watchmen of Scotland ? Where will we leave our glory ? and what if Christ depart out of our land? We verily judge, they are most loyal to the king’s majesty, who desire the dross may be separated from the silver, and the throne established in righteousness and judgment. We are not (our witness is in heaven,) against his majesty’s title by birth to the kingdom, and the right of the royal family: but that the controversy of wrath against the royal family may be removed; that the huge guilt of the throne may be mourned for before the Lord ; and that his majesty may stand constantly, all the days of his life, to the covenant of God, by oath, seal, and subscription, known to the world ; that so peace and the blessings of heaven may follow his government ; that the Lord may be his rock and shield ; that the just may flourish in his time ; that men fearing God, hating covetousness, and of known integrity and godliness, may be judges I and rulers under his majesty — and they are not really loyal and faithful to the supreme magistrate, who wish not such qualifications in him. We are not, in this particular, contending that a prince, who is not a convert or a sound believer, falls from his royal dominion ; the scriptures of God warrant us to pray for and obey, in j the Lord, princes and supreme magistrates, that are otherwise wicked ; and to render all due obedience to them. Our souls should be afflicted before the Lord, for the burning of the 4 Causes of God’s Wrath.’ In these controversies, we should take special heed to this, that Christ is a free, independent Sovereign, King, and Law- giver. The Father hath appointed him 388 SCOTS WORTHIES. - his own King in mount Zion ;' and he cannot endure, that the powers of the world should encroach upon his royal prerogatives, and prescribe laws to him: this presumption is not far from that of citizens that hated him, ‘ He shall not rule over us and from the intolerable pride of i those who are for breaking asunder the bands of the Lord, and his Anointed, and for casting away their cords from them, especially seeing the man Christ would 1 1 not take the office of a judge upon him — and discharged his disciples to exercise a ! civil lordship over their brethren. True 1 it is, the godly magistrate may command i the ministers of the gospel to do their duty, but not under the pain of ecclesiastic censure, as if it were proper for him to 1 call and uncall, depose and suspend from the holy ministry. The lordly spiritual government in and over the church, 1 is given unto Christ, and none else : he is the sole ecclesiastic lawgiver. It is proper to him to smite with the rod of his mouth; nor is there any other shoulder, in heaven or on earth, that is able to bear the government. As this hath been the great controversy betwixt our ! Lord Jesus and the powers of the world from the beginning, so it has ruined all | that coped with him. Christ has proved a rock of offence to them ; they have been dashed to pieces by the stone that was cut out of the mountain without hands. And the other powers that enter the lists with j him shall have the same dismal exit. ‘ Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken; and on whomsoever it shall fall it shall grind him to powder.’ As the blessed prophets and apostles of our Lord contended not a little with the rulers of the earth, that Christ should be head corner-stone : that Christ is the only head of the church, is as sure, as that he died, was buried, and rose again. It is a most victorious and prevailing truth, not only preached and attested by the ambassadors 1 of the Lord of hosts, but confirmed by j blood, martyrdom, and suffering. Many precious saints have thought it their hon- our and dignity to suffer shame and reproach for the name of Jesus ; and it is beyond doubt, that passive suffering for the precious name of Christ comes nearest j to that noble sampler, wherein Christ, though a son, learned obedience by the :| things which he suffered. We cannot but i say, it is a sad time to our land at present ; it is a day of darkness, and rebuke, and j blasphemy. The Lord hath covered him- self with a cloud in his anger ; we looked for peace, but behold evil: our souls re- ; joiced when his majesty did swear the covenant of God, and put thereto his seal and subscription ; and therefore confirmed it by his royal promise. So that the sub- jects’ hearts blessed the Lord, and rested upon the healing word of a prince. But now, alas ! the contrary is enacted by law, the carved work is broken down, ordinances are defaced, and we are brought into the former bondage and chaos of prelatical con- fusions. The royal prerogative of Christ i is pulled from his head, and, after all the days of sorrow we have seen, we have just cause to fear we shall be made to read and i eat that book, wherein is written mourn- j ing, and lamentation, and wo. Yet we are to believe Christ will not so depart from the land, but a remnant shall be saved; and he shall reign a victorious conquering king to the ends of the earth. 0 that there were nations, kindreds, tongues, and all the people of Christ’s habitable w r orld, encompassing his throne with cries and tears for the spirit of supplication, to be poured down upon the inhabitants of Judah for that effect.” __1 MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. 389 ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL, MARQUIS OF ARGYLE, From his early years this illustrious noble- I man was warmly attached to the presby- j terian interest, and, during the whole of a laborious and useful life spent in the ser- vice of both church and state, he adhered firmly to his principles, until by the tyranny and treachery of Charles I., he was hon- oured with the crown of martyrdom. When the excellent Rutherford was brought before the High Commission Court for ; nonconformity, in 1638, Argyle interposed in his behalf ; and through his intercession, also, with the bishop of Galloway, the worthy Earlston was released from the sentence of banishment to which he had been condemned for the same cause. No sooner did the Reformation, com- monly called the Second Reformation, begin to dawn, in 1637, than Argyle, though a j privy counsellor, attended all the sittings of the memorable General Assembly held at Glasgow, in order to hear the debates concerning diocesan episcopacy, and the five Articles of Perth, and after the most patient attention, declared himself fully satisfied with all their decisions. From that period this noble peer began to dis- tinguish himself by a concern for the Re- deemer’s cause and interest, to which he ever afterward continued faithful. At that Assembly, his lordship, among other things, proposed an explanation of the Confession and Covenant, in which he wished the members to proceed with great deliberation, lest any should be brought under suspicion of perjury, who might have sworn in the same sense as he himself had done. This motion was taken in good part ; and, at the breaking up of the As- sembly, Mr Henderson, the Moderator, j observed, that the Assembly felt themselves j highly honoured by the countenance that had been given to their deliberations by the noble lord, regretting that his lordship had not joined them sooner ; but express- ing a hope, at the same time, that God had reserved him for the best times, and would honour him both here and hereafter. Argyle remarked in reply, that the delay had not proceeded from any want of affec- tion to the prosperity of religion, and the welfare of the country, but from a desire and hope that by staying with the court, he might have been able to bring about a re- dress of grievances. Seeing, however, that this could no longer be done without prov- ing unfaithful to God and his country, he had resolved to do as he had done, and cast in his lot among the brethren. In 1639, when the Covenanters were forced to take up arms in their own de- fence, and march toward the borders of England, under General Leslie, Argyle, being sent to guard the Western coast, con- tributed much by his activity and prudence to preserve peace in that quarter. He not only convened the country gentlemen, and bound them under security for that purpose ; but raised and maintained, at his own charges, 400 men in the county of Argyle, whom he afterwards augmented to 900. With half of this small band he marched into Kintyre to watch the movements of the marquis of Antrim, and despatched the remainder to the head of Lorn, to look after Lochaber, and the Western isles ; from whence he himself set out for Arran with a few pieces of artillery, and took possession of the castle of Brodick, which surrendered without resistance. In the absence of the covenanting army, in 1640, he was again appointed to the I same command, which he conducted no less successfully ; taking prisoners eight or nine of the ringleaders of the malignant faction, whom he obliged to give bond for their better behaviour, for time to come. By these proceedings Argyle provoked the ' malice both of his own and the church’s I enemies, who from that time sought every j opportunity to do him injury ; and it was | not long until the earl of Montrose | took occasion to do so. Upon a certain ! occurrence, he publicly gave out that I Argyle — when in company with the earl of Athol, and the other eight gentlemen who had been made prisoners by him the year before, for carrying arms against their country — had said before them all : — “ That the parliament had consulted law- yers anent deposing the king, and had re- ceived for answer, that that might be done for three reasons ; viz., desertion; invasion; and vendition; and that they once thought to have done it last session ; but would cer- tainly do it at the next.” Montrose found a ready tool in James Stuart, commissary of Dunkeld, who at once subscribed to the veracity of the report ; but Argyle declared his innocence, and immediately raised an action for falsehood against Stuart before | the court of Justiciary. To avoid the j sentence that would have followed upon his conviction, Stuart wrote to the earl, acquitting him of the charge, and acknow- ledging that he had fabricated the whole out of malice. Although Argyle’s inno- cence was thus established, the court, nevertheless, thought it proper to proceed with the trial ; and, the fact having been clearly proved against Stuart, sentence of death was pronounced against him ; which awful punishment he underwent, expressing the deepest penitence and remorse for what he had done. About the same time Charles, having quarrelled with his English parliament, revisited Scotland. To ingratiate him- self anew with the nation, he attended j the Scots parliament, and not only rati- fied all their procedure, both in their own defence, and in behalf of the national religion, but even elevated several of the nobles to higher titles of honour. Argyle was made first lord of the treasury ; and, after acknowledging his great public services, the king, on the 15th November, 1641, delivered a patent to the lord ly^on King at Arms, who read it aloud, proclaim- ing his lordship “ Marquis of Argyle, Earl j of Kintyre, Lord Lorn,” &c., which, having j been finished, it was handed back to the king. Charles then with his own hands delivered it to Argyle, and was the first to j salute him by his new title of Marquis. Not deficient in court etiquette, Argyle, in a very handsome speech, thanked his majesty for the honour he had conferred upon him, and assured his sovereign that he had raised him to a rank which he neither j expected nor merited. While parliament was still sitting, an- ; other plot, of a more deadly nature, was laid against the marquises of Hamilton and Argyle by a few of the nobility, w T ho felt themselves piqued at the power, preferment, and influence, which these noblemen now had with the king. The chief "actors in the conspiracy were the earl of Crawford, colonel Cochran, and lieutenant Alexander Stuart — nay it was insinuated that Charles himself was an accessory before the fact — and the agreement was that Hamilton and Argyle should be called for in the dead of the night to speak with the king. By the way they were to be arrested as traitors j and handed over to earl Crawford, who was to be in waiting with a sufficient body j of men : and it had been further concerted, I that if any resistance was offered, the earl was to stab them at once ; but if not, they were to be conveyed prisoners of war to a vessel in Leith Roads, where they were to be confined until they could be conveniently 1 - jl MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. 391 | tried for treason. The plot, however, hav- ing been divulged prematurely, both of the noblemen, by the good providence of God, escaped the night previous, to a place of security about twelve miles distant. It ! tends not a little to strengthen the belief of the king’s concurrence, that the whole of the conspirators were pardoned, merely upon their own petition. In 1643 and the year following, the marquis was very actively engaged in for- warding the work of Reformation ; but while he was thus occupied, Montrose and some others of the royal party, having as- sociated for the purpose of raising troops for the king, thought thereby to divert Argyle’s attention from the good work. Their intention was to oblige him to with- draw the Scottish forces from England, by making predatory incursions into the county of Argyle, which the earl of Antrim had undertaken to do, by sending over from Ireland a body of 10,000 men, under the command of one McDonald, a Scotsman. A considerable army was accordingly sent, who committed many frightful ravages. To repel the invaders, therefore, the Com- mittee of Estates ordered the marquis to i raise three regiments of foot, and march northward without delay, which he very soon effected, taking a number of their principal chiefs prisoners, and dispersing | the rest. Montrose, however, was still on | the field, plundering and laying waste all over Argyleshire, and other places belong- ing to the Covenanters ; and, although he was finally defeated by general Leslie, at Philiphaugh, yet M‘ Donald and his Irish 1 barbarians ^turned in 1646, and burned and plundered the dwellings of the well- affected, to such an extent, that about 1200 of the ejected and houseless inhabitants assembled in a body under Acknalase, who brought them down to Monteith to live upon the disaffected in that part of the country. On their way thither, however. the men of Athol attacked them at Callen- | der ; and, being but poorly armed, a con- siderable number of them were slain. The rest made the best of their way to Stirling, where they were met by Argyle, who, commiserating their deplorable condition, led them into Dumbartonshire to live upon lord Napier, and others of the disaffected, till they should be better provided for. In the mean time he himself went over to Ireland, and, bringing home the remainder of the Scots forces, landed with them in Argyleshire. M‘ Donald betook himself to the Isles, and from thence to Ireland, which put an end to hostilities in that part of the country. In 1648, when the state became divided into two factions, the malignants were headed by the marquis of Hamilton, and the Covenanters were under the direction of Argyle. It may therefore be with safety concluded, that from the year 1643, j the marquis was actively employed in pro- moting the civil and religious liberties of his country ; and it is well known from what took place in 1649, — from the in- fluence he had acquired in parliament, and from the successful measures he had used in restoring Charles II. to his throne and regal authority, that the affairs of the na- tion went on pretty smoothly, so long as the king continued to act upon his advice. No sooner, however, did the weak monarch transfer his favours to the opposite party, and install their nobles into places of power and trust, than the country became again one vast scene of confusion and bloodshed, which preyed very heavily upon the mind of the worthy Argyle. Charles at the same time pretended a great deal of regard for the marquis ; but how he performed the promises contained in the following letter, may be judged from the resentment he indulged ever after the marquis had the Christian magnanimity to reprove him for his immoralities. _ SCOTS WORTHIES. 392 This masterpiece of duplicity appears I to have been written from St Johnston (Perth), September 24th, 1650, and is as follows : — “ Having taken into my consid- eration the faithful endeavours of the mar- quis of Argyle for restoring me to my just rights, I am desirous to let the world see how sensible I am of his real respect to me, by some particular favour to him. And particularly I do promise that I shall make him Duke of Argyle, a knight of the garter, and one of the gentlemen of my ( bedchamber, and this to be performed when he shall think fit. I do further pro- mise to hearken to his counsel, whenever it shall please God to restore me to my just rights in England. I shall see him paid the 40,000 pounds sterling which are due to him. All which I do promise to make good upon the word of a king.” “C. R.” Charles was crowned at Scone on the 1st January, 1651, and the crown was placed on his head by the marquis. After prayer by Mr Douglas, he was installed into the royal throne by the marquis also. For £ time, too, the Usurper’s forces were victorious in several engagements, and the king could no longer continue in Scot- land with safety. He was therefore, after Cromwell’s success at Dunbar, obliged to return to England, leaving the marquis at Stirling. On the 3d of September follow- ing, his army having been completely rout- ed at Worcester, the English overran the whole country ; and the national represen- tatives were forced either to succumb to Cromwell, or run the risk of enduring se- vere hardships. This submission Argyle had refused at Dumbarton, and therefore the Usurper’s army marched into Argylesliire, and other parts of the Highlands. Whilst Argyle was confined at Inverary by indis- , position, one of Cromwell’s officers — major Dean — walked into the room and pre- sented a paper, informing the marquis that I if he did not subscribe the same before the following day, he would be carried off prisoner. For several reasons, but parti- cularly for his own and his tenants’ safety, Argyle most reluctantly adhibited his sig- nature. From the date of this circum- stance may be traced the commencement of those sufferings which brought the marquis to the scaffold. In the year 1660, soon after the king’s restoration, Argyle set out for London, whither he arrived on the 8th of July, and without delay proceeded to Whitehall, anxious to pay his respects to a prince on whose head he had placed the crown, and in whose presence he might vindicate him- self from many foul aspersions which had been very industriously conveyed to the royal ear. No sooner had Charles heard of Argyle’s arrival, than, forgetting all his debts of gratitude, and former fair promises, he caused his lordship to be ap- prehended and conveyed to the Tower, where he was detained till the month of December, and then sent down to Scot- land, in a ship of war, to abide his trial before parliament. On the 2 0th, the vessel arrived at Leith ; and, next day, the marquis was marched along the streets of Edin- burgh betwixt two of the town bailies, and lodged in the castle. On the 13th of February following, Argyle was brought down from the castle in a coach, attended by three of the magistrates, and the town guard, and presented at the bar of the house ; when Sir John Fletcher, the king’s advocate, accused him in common form, of high treason, producing an indictment, and craving that it might be read. Before this should be done, Argyle asked permission to speak; but was refused. The indict- ment contained fourteen counts ; the prin- cipal of which were : — “ his entering into the Solemn League and Covenant with England ; and his submission to Oliver MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. 393 | Cromwell.” After it had been read over, however, he was permitted to address the house, which he did with great effect, declaring that he had, consistently with his solemn oath and covenant, served his God, his king, and his country ; knd that not one of the accusations brought against him could be proved. It was to no pur- pose that he thus pleaded, because the parliament were determined to bring him in guilty ; and therefore he was ordered to enter upon his defence on the 27th of the same month. At his special request, how- ever, it was deferred until the 5 th of March. On that day he delivered a most affecting speech before the lords of ar- ticles, and gave in a petition, recommend- ing himself to the king’s mercy, and en- treating the parliament to intercede for him. He was again brought before the parlia- ment upon the 16th ; but all that either he or his counsel could say had no weight with the members. In the beginning of May, witnesses were examined against him ; and on the 25th he was brought to the bar of the house to receive sentence from his judges, which was to the following effect : — “ That he was found guilty of high trea- son, and adjudged to be executed as a traitor — his head to be severed from his body at the cross of Edinburgh, upon Monday the 27th, and affixed on the same place where the marquis of Montrose’s head had formerly been, and his arms torn before the parliament at the cross.” At this awful crisis Argyle offered to speak ; but the trumpets beginning to sound, he waited till they had finished, and then said, — •“ I had the honour to place the crown on the king’s head; and now he hastens me to a better crown than his own !” After which, addressing himself to the speaker and members, he said : — “You have the indemnity of an earthly king among your hands, and have denied me a share in that ; but you cannot hinder me | from the indemnity of the King of kings ; and shortly you must be before his tribunal. I pray he mete not out such measure to you as you have done to me, when you are called to an account for all your actings, and this amongst the rest ! ” After sentence he was conveyed to the common prison, where his lady was wait- ing for him, — upon seeing whom he said, — “ They have given me till Monday to be with you, my dear, therefore let us make for it.” The marchioness wept bitterly, and said twice, — “ The Lord will require it,” which drew tears from all present. “ Forbear,” said the marquis, “ forbear ! I pity them, they know not what they are doing, — they may shut me in where they please ; but they cannot shut God out from me. I am as content to be here, as in the castle, and as content there as in the Tower of London, and as content in the Tower as when at liberty,” — and added, that he remembered a passage of scripture quoted by an honest minister to him while in the castle, which he intended to put in prac- tice, — “When Ziklag was taken and burnt, the people spake of stoning David ; but he encouraged himself in the Lord.” During the short interval between his sentence and execution, he maintained the greatest serenity and cheerfulness, con- versing pleasantly with several ministers who were permitted to visit him. The night before his execution he slept calmly ; and on Monday morning, though much engaged in settling his affairs in the midst i of company, he had at intervals much spiritual conversation, and was so over- powered by a sensible effusion of the Holy Spirit, that on one occasion he broke out into a rapturous exclamation : — “ I thought to have concealed the Lord’s goodness, but it will not do. I am now ordering my affairs, and God is sealing my charter to a better inheritance, and just now saying j 3 D SCOTS WORTHIES. 394 to me, — 4 Son, be of good cheer, thy sms are forgiven thee.’ ” Before going to the place of execution, he dined precisely at noon with a number of his friends, displaying great cheerful- ness ; after which he retired for a little. Upon his return, he said the Lord had again confirmed his promise, and said to him from heaven, — 44 Thy sins be forgiven thee !” Every countenance was suffused with tears but his own ; but being at length overcome, they began to flow very copiously, when he said to Mr George Hutcheson, — 44 1 think His kindness over- comes me ; but God is good, that He does not let out too much of it here, for I could not bear it. Get me my cloak, and let us go.” — Being told that the clock was kept back till one, till the bailies should come, he said, 44 They are far wrong,” and im- mediately kneeled down and prayed before all present, in a very moving and heavenly strain. Scarcely had he finished, when the bailies sent for him. Calling for a glass of wine before he went, he continued standing in the same frame of mind, and having asked a blessing upon it, he said, 44 Now let us go, and God be with us !” Having taken leave of all who were not to accompany him, he said when going, — 44 1 could die like a Roman, but choose rather to die like a Christian !” As he went down stairs, he called Mr Guthrie to him, and, after embracing him most ten- derly, bade him farewell. 44 My Lord,” said Mr Guthrie, 44 God hath been with you of a truth ; He is with you, and will be with you. Such is my respect for your lordship, that if I were not under sentence of death myself, I would cheerfully die for your lordship!” Thus parted these two martyrs on earth, to meet in heaven on the Friday following. Argyle ascended the scaffold with an air of perfect serenity, and saluted all who were present. Mr Hutcheson prayed, after which the Marquis addressed the specta- tors. When he had finished, Mr Hamilton prayed, followed by Argyle himself; after i which he prepared for the closing scene. ! To the executioner he gave a napkin con- | taining some money; to his sons-in-law, Caithness and Ker, his watch and some 1 other things ; to the earl of Loudon his silver pencase ; and to Lothian a double ducat, and then threw off his coat. When going to the 44 Maiden,”* Mr Hutcheson desired him to hold his 44 grip sicker,” to which he re- plied, 44 1 am not afraid to be surprised with fear !” The laird of Skelmorlie took hold of his hand, and found it perfectly ! steady. Then kneeling down with a sweet i and solemn composure, after having prayed for a few moments, he gave the signal by lifting up one of his hands, and the Maiden , instantly severed his head from his body. His head was afterwards fixed on the west j end of the tolbooth, as a monument of the parliament’s injustice, the king’s infidelity, and Scotland’s misery. The body was afterwards deposited in the family vault at Kilmun. Thus died the marquis of Argyle, the first martyr to presbyterianism since the reformation from popery. All his biogra- * The Maiden, the instrument used at the exe- cution of the Marquis of Argyle, is very similar to the guillotine ; and, as we learn from Hume of Godscroft, was made at the instance of James, Earl of Morton, “ after the pattern of one he had seen in Halifax,” — a description of which, with an engraving of the “Halifax gibbet,” (differing slightly from that of the Maiden given in the opposite page) j may be found in Hone’s Every Day Book, vol. i. col. 145. It is also said by Pennicuik, in his description of Tweeddale, that “ this fatal instrument, at least the pattern thereof, the cruel regent [Morton] had brought from abroad to behead the laird of Penne- cuik of that ilk, who notwithstanding died in his bed ; and the unfortunate earl was the first that handselled that merciless Maiden, who proved, so soon after, his own executioner,” June 1581 . This circumstance may have given rise to the proverb preserved in Kelley’s Collection, p. 140, “ He that invented the Maiden, first handselled it.” MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. 395 [Representation of the Maiden, preserved by the Society of Scottish Antiquaries.] | phers agree that he was a man of extraor- dinary piety, remarkable wisdom and pru- I dence, and singular usefulness. In the | great work of the Reformation he was the prime agent ; and when a large portion of the nation yielded to the emergency, he stood almost alone, and never deserted the cause until he moistened with his blood the tree which his own hands had planted. In a word, says a learned writer, “ He had piety for a Christian ; sense for a counsellor, carriage for a martyr, and soul for a king.” If ever any was, Argyle may, with strict propriety, he denominated a true Scottish Presbyterian. TESTIMONY OF ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL, MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. His Speech on the Scaffold. “ Many will expect that I speak many things, and according to their several opinions and dispositions, so will their expectations be from me, and constructions of me ; hut I resolve to disappoint many, for I come not hither to justify myself, but the Lord, ‘ Who is holy in all his ways, SCOTS WORTHIES. 396 and righteous in all his works, holy and blessed is his name ;’ neither come I to condemn others : I know many will expect that I speak against the hardness of the sentence pronounced against me ; but I will say nothing to it. I bless the Lord I pardon all men, as I desire to be pardoned of the Lord myself : let the will of the Lord be done; that is all that ! I desire. “ I hope ye will have more charity to me now, than ye would have at another time, seeing I speak before the Lord, to whom I must give an account very shortly. | I know very well that my words have had but very little weight with many ; and that many have mistaken my words and actings both: many have thought me to be a great enemy to these great works that have of late been brought to pass. But do not mistake me, good people, I speak it in the presence of the Lord: I entered not upon the work of reformation with any design of advantage to myself, or prejudice to the king and his government; as my latter will which was written, 1655, and thereafter delivered to a friend (in whose hands it still remaineth), can show. As for these calumnies that have gone I abroad of me, I bless God I know them to be no more: and as I go to make a reckoning to my God, I am free as to any of these, concerning the king’s person or government. I was real and cordial in my desires to bring the king home, and in j my endeavours for him when he was at home; and I had no correspondence with the adversaries’ army, nor any of them, in | the time when his majesty was in Scotland; | nor had I any accession to his late majesty’s I horrid and execrable murder, by counsel, or | knowledge of it, or any other manner of | way. This is a truth, as I shall answer to my Judge. And all the time his ma- jesty was in Scotland, I was still endea- vouring his advantage, my conscience beareth me witness in it. So much to that particular. And I hope you all will remember these. “ I confess, many look on my condition as a suffering condition: but I bless the Lord that He that hath gone before me | hath trod the wine-press of the Father’s wrath ; by whose sufferings I hope that my sufferings shall not be eternal. I bless him that hath taken away the sting of my sufferings : I may say that my charter was sealed to-day ; for the Lord hath said to ! me, ‘ Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are freely forgiven thee:’ and so I hope my sufferings shall be very easy. And ye know that the scripture saith, c the Captain of our salvation was made perfect by suf- ferings.’ “ I shall not speak much to these things for which I am condemned, lest I seem to condemn others; it is well known it is only for compliance, which was the epide- mical fault of the nation. I wish the Lord to pardon them : I say no more. “ There was an expression in these papers presented by me to the parliament, of the ‘contagion of these times,’ which may by some be misconstructed, as if I intended to lay an imputation upon the work of reformation ; but I declare that I intended no such thing; but it only re- lated to the corruptions and failings of men, occasioned by the prevailing of the usurping powers. “ I cannot say of my own condition, but that the Lord in his providence hath mind of mercy to me, even in this world : for if I had been more favourably dealt with, I fear I might have been overcome with temptations, as many others are, and many more I fear will be ; and so should have gone out of the world with a more polluted conscience, than through the mercy of God now I have. And hence my condition is such now, as when I am gone, will be seen not to have been such as many imagined. Glasgow; Macgr egar. Poison Sc C° JAMES GUTHRIE. 397 It is fit that God take me away before I fall into these temptations that I see others are falling into, and many others I fear will fall : I wish the Lord may prevent it. Yet blessed be his name, that I am kept both from present evils, and evils to come. “ Some may expect I will regret my own condition ; but truly, I neither grudge nor repine, nor desire any revenge. And I declare I do not repent my last going up to London ; for I had always rather have suffered anything, than lie under reproaches as I did. I desire not that the Lord should judge any man; nor do I judge any but myself: I wish, as the Lord hath pardoned me, so he may pardon them for this and other things ; and that what they have done to me may never meet them in their accounts. I have no more to say, but to beg the Lord that, when I go away, he would bless every one that stayeth behind. “ I desire and obtest you, all that hear me this day, to take notice — and I wish that all who see me might hear me — that now when I am entering into eternity, and am to appear before my Judge, and as I desire salvation, and do expect eternal j salvation and happiness from him, — from my birth to my scaffold, I am free from any accession by my knowledge, concern- ing counsel, or any other way, to his late majesty’s death; and I pray the Lord to preserve his majesty, and to pour his best blessings on his person and government ; and the Lord give him good and faithful counsellors. Many Christians may stumble at this, and my friends maybe discontented; but when things are rightly considered, my friends have no discredit of me, nor Christians no stumbling-block, but rather an encouragement.” JAMES GUTHRIE. The name of this revered martyr will be held dear by Scottish presbyterians as long as a regard for pure and undefiled religion exists in the land. He is said to have been descended from the ancient family of Guthrie, and to have given very early proofs of his abilities as a scholar. When but a very young man he was appointed to teach philosophy in the University of St Andrews, where, by an unprecedented placidity of temper, he attracted the ad- miration of all who knew him. Having been educated in the profession of episco- pacy, he for a time held out firmly against the simple forms of Presbytery, until, by his associating with Mr Samuel Rutherford and others, and taking part in their weekly meetings for prayer and conference, he was so effectually weaned from his early predilections, as to be looked upon as a star of the first magnitude in the presby- terian church. Having passed his trials in 1638, he was ordained minister of Loudon, where he remained for several years. In 1646, he was one of the ministers appointed to at- tend king Charles at Newcastle; and also, during the intervals betwixt the General Assemblies, he was nominated in the com- mission to watch over the public affairs of the church. About three years after, he was removed to Stirling, where he con- tinued till the Restoration, a faithful watch- man upon Zion’s walls, — “showing Israel their iniquities, and the house of Jacob their sins.” | . | 398 SCOTS WORTHIES. When the unhappy differences broke out between the resolutioners and protesters, he warmly espoused the cause of the lat- ter ; and, aided by his colleague, Mr Ben- net, preached openly against the abetters of the “Articles of Perth,” as involving the land in conjunction with the malignant party. This was too much for the times ; and they were consequently summoned to repair to Perth, on the 19th of February, ; 1651, to answer before the king and the Committee of Estates, — one of them, how- ever, being indisposed, it was put off till the 22d, when both appeared, and lodged ‘a protest, — bearing, that although they acknowledged the civil authority of the ; king, yet Guthrie had been accused by his majesty and his council for a point of doctrine maintained and discussed in a sermon, of which they were not the com- | petent judges ; and therefore he declined I their jurisdiction, and appealed to the church. In consequence of the king’s ab- ! sence, however, judgment was deferred, and they were, in the mean time, confined to Perth and Dundee. On the 28th of February they lodged another protest, similar to the former, but couched in stronger language, and supported by many powerful arguments. Farther procedure was sisted against them for the present; but Guthrie’s declining the king’s authority at this time was made the principal charge against him some years after. The king’s affairs being now hopeless, an army was raised under the command of Middleton, into which Charles was to throw himself for protection. But his last defence lay in the Committee of Estates. The king had written to the protesters to lay down their arms, and the Committee had offered indemnity to all who would submit to his authority, while at the same 1 time the Commission of Assembly were not wanting in energetic measures against those who had thus the hardihood to dis- turb the public peace. Guthrie, conceiv- ing Middleton to have laid himself open to the highest ecclesiastical censure, is said to have proposed summary excommunica- tion, and to have been supported by a majority of the Commission, as a sola- tium due to the church at such a critical juncture, when nothing but firm adherence to the principles of Presbytery could main- tain her independence. He himself, there- fore, was nominated as the fittest person to put in execution the sentence of the Commission, which he did from his own pulpit at Stirling. For certain reasons, however, which seemed sufficiently valid to the Commission, they afterwards re- leased Middleton from the censure ; but he never forgave Guthrie. About this time he wrote several papers in favour of the protesters, for which and his former fidelity he was one of the three who were deposed by the pretended As- sembly at St Andrews, in 1657. Such, indeed, had been the malice of the resolu- tioners, that they actually stoned him upon one occasion ; because, upon the death of his colleague, Mr Bennet, he would not accept one of their party. But he was no less opposed to Cromwell and his faction than he was to the malignants ; for, at the time when the marquis of Argyle procured an equal hearing between the resolutioners and protesters, at London, in 1656, he so maintained the king’s right, in opposition to the usurper’s chaplain, as to excite the indignation of the independents. Not long after the Restoration, while Guthrie and a few of the faithful brethren who had met at Edinburgh were drawing up a petition to his majesty, they were all apprehended, and imprisoned in Edinburgh castle, with the exception of one w ho made his escape. Guthrie, however, was not suffered to remain there ; but was conveyed to the castle of Stirling, where he was kept in close confinement until a short time JAMES GUTHRIE. 399 | before his trial, which took place on the 20th of February, 1661. When brought before the court, the chancellor informed him, that he was to be tried for high treason, as had already been certified in j the copy of an indictment which had been served upon him, and which would now be read in his hearing. The counts in this indictment were : — “ His contriving, consenting to, and exhibiting before the Committee of Estates, a paper called the Western Remonstrance. 2. His con- triving, writing, and publishing that abo- minable pamphlet, called — The Causes of the Lord’s Wrath. 3. His contriving, writing, and subscribing the paper called the Humble Petition of the twenty-third of August last. 4. His convocating of the king’s lieges, &c. 5. His declaring his majesty incapable to be judge over him, according to the protests and appeals pre- sented by him to that effect at Perth. 6. Some treasonable expressions he was al- leged to have uttered, at a meeting in 1650, or 1651. In refutation of all these charges, he delivered an admirable defence before the parliament, not only in vindication of himself, but also laudatory of the noble cause for which he was suffering ; after which he was ordered to remove. Before retiring, however, he requested to be allowed a short time for consult- ing with his counsel, which was granted ; and the 28th of the same month was appointed for entering upon his defence. It is said that in drawing up this docu- ment he very much surprised his counsel by the accurate knowledge of Scots law which he discovered, and by suggesting several things which would have escaped their notice. Upon the 11th of April, the process against him was read in the house, upon which occasion also he delivered an affect- ing speech, which he concluded with the following moving appeal My lords, in 1 the last place, I humbly beg that — having brought so clear evidence from the word of God, so much divine reason and human laws, and so much of the common practice of the kirk and kingdom, in my defence ; and being already cast out of my ministry, out of my dwelling and maintenance, my- self and my family put to live on the charity of others, having now suffered eight months’ imprisonment — your lordships would put no other burden upon me. I shall conclude with the words of the prophet Jeremiah, — 4 Behold, I am in your hands, do to me what seemeth good to you: I know, for certain, that the Lord hath com- manded me to speak all these things ; and that if you put me to death, you shall bring innocent blood upon yourselves, and upon the inhabitants of this city.’ — My conscience I cannot submit, my lords ; but this old crazy body and mortal flesh, I do submit, to do with it whatever ye will, whether by death or by banishment, or imprisonment, or anything else, only I beseech you to ponder well what profit there is in my blood. It is not the execution of me, or many others, that will extinguish the covenant and work of reformation since the year 1638, — my blood, bondage, or banishment, will con- tribute more for the propagation of these things, than my life or liberty could do, though I should live many years.” Although this speech had not the effect that might have been expected, it never- theless made such a powerful impression upon not a few of the members, that they withdrew from the house, declaring that they would have nothing to do with the blood of such a righteous man. The earl of Tweeddale was the only person that spoke against putting him to death, — saying that banishment had been the severest censure laid upon preachers for their opinions, and yet Mr Guthrie had been condemned to die.” The day of his exe- I cution was not named till the 8th of May, when the parliament ordered him and William Govan to be hanged at the Cross of Edinburgh, on the first of June, and Guthrie’s head to be fixed on the Nether Bow,* his estate to be confiscated, and his arms torn. Govan’s head was to be placed upon the West Port. After he had re- ceived his sentence, he accosted the par- ! liament thus : — “ My lords, let this sentence never affect you more than it does me, and let my blood never be required of the king’s family!” Between his sentence and execution, Guthrie enjoyed perfect composure and serenity of mind, and wrote a great many letters to his friends and acquaintances, j His farewell letter to his wife, being I Avritten with the most dignified submission, and breathing the most ardent affection and cheerful resignation, we give entire : — “ My heart, — Being within a few hours to lay doAvn my life for the testimony of j Jesus Christ, I do send these few lines as | the last obedience of unfeigned and spot- less affection which I bear unto you, not ! only as one flesh, but as a member with j me of that blessed mystical body of the Lord; for I trust you are, and that God, j who hath begun his good work in you, will also perfect it, and bring it to an end, ; and give you life and salvation. What- ever may be your infirmities and weakness, ! yet the grace of God shall be sufficient for you, and his strength shall be perfected in your weakness. To me you have been a very kind and faithful yoke-fellow, and not a hinderer but a helper in the work of the Lord. I do bear you this testimony as all the recompense I can now leave you with : — In all the trials I have met with in the ! work of the ministry, these twenty years past, which have not been few, and those from aggressors of many sorts, upon the * See Wood-cut , next page. right hand and upon the left, you were never a tempter of me to dissent away from the living God, and from the way of my duty, to comply Avith an evil cause, or to hearken to the counsels of flesh and blood, for avoiding the cross, and for gain- ing the profit and preferment of a present world. You have Avrought much with your hands for furnishing bread for me and my children, and were always willing that I should show hospitality, especially to those that bore the image of God. These things I mention, not to puff you j up, but to encourage you under your I present affliction and distress, being per- suaded that God will have regard to you j and to the children of my body, whom I leave to your care, that they may be brought up in the knowledge of the Lord, j Let not your wants and weaknesses dis- courage you ; there are power, riches, and abundance with God, both as to the things of the body and those of the soul ; and he Avill supply all your wants, and carry you through. It is like to be a very trying time ; but cleave you to God, and keep his Avay, without casting off your confidence. Fear not to be droAvned in the depths of j the troubles that may attend this land | God will hide you under his shadow, and j keep you in the hollow of his hand. Be sober and of a meek spirit; strive not j against Providence ; but be subject to him j Avho is the Father of spirits. Decline not the cross, but embrace it as your own; love all that love the Lord, and delight in their fellowship. Give yourself to prayer, and be diligent in reading the holy scrip- \ tures. Wait on the ordinances, and hold j them in great esteem as the appointed means of God, for your salvation. Join together the exercise of piety and repent- ance, and manifest your faith in the fruits of sincere obedience and of a gospel con- versation. Value your conscience above your skin. Be not solicitous, although you JAMES GUTHRIE. 401 know not wherewith to clothe you and your children, or wherewith to dine ; God’s providence and promises are a true, rich, and never failing portion. Jesus Christ be all your salvation and all your desire ! You I recommend to Him, and Him to you. My heart! I recommend you to the eternal love of Jesus Christ. I am helped of God, and hope I shall be helped to the end. Pray for me, while I am here, and praise with me hereafter. God be with you ! I am your’s. Edinburgh Tolbooth, \ „ June 1st, 1661. ) “James Guthrie.” On the same day, it having been reported that he was to purchase his life by retract- ing something he had formerly said and done, he wrote and subscribed the follow- ing declaration : — “ These are to declare, that I do own the 4 Causes of God’s Wrath,’ the 4 Suppli- cation at Edinburgh,’ last August, and the accession I had to the 4 Remonstrances,’ and if any do think, or have reported, that I was willing to recede from these, they have wronged me, as never having any ground from me to think or report so. This I attest, under my hand, at Edin- burgh, about eleven o’clock, forenoon, be- fore these witnesses : — Arthur Forbes, John Guthrie. Hugh Walker, James Cowie. (Signed) James Guthrie.” Having settled all his worldly concerns, he dined with his friends with great cheer- fulness, and called for cheese — of which he had been particularly fond, but had been dissuaded from the use of it, in consequence of being subject to the gravel — remarking that he was now beyond the hazard of that disease. After dinner was over, he retired by himself for some time ; and, returning with the most perfect composure and forti- tude, he was immediately after conveyed, under a guard, from the tolbooth to the scaffold, which was erected at the cross. And here, so far from betraying any symptoms of fear, he rather expressed an anxiety for death. He spoke about an hour to the multitude with the same com- posure as if he had been delivering an ordinary discourse, concluding with the words of Simeon of old, 44 Now let thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation !” Of his last speech and testimony he gave a copy to a friend, to be preserved for his son, and delivered to him when he came of age, as he was then only a child. Im- mediately before being turned over, he raised the napkin from his eyes, and cried aloud, — 44 The Covenants, the Covenants, shall yet be Scotland’s reviving !” In a few weeks after his execution, as Middleton’s coach was coming down the Netherbow Port, several drops of blood [Nether-Bow Port, Edinburgh.] fell upon it from the martyr's head, which all the art of man could not wash out. It was therefore found necessary to substi- tute a new cover. 3 E SCOTS WORTHIES. 402 Guthrie was the first minister who suf- fered death, at that period, for asserting the kingly prerogative of the Lord Jesus, in opposition to Erastian* supremacy. He was a man honoured by God to be singu- larly zealous and faithful in carrying on the work of reformation, in which he con- ducted himself with the most unswerving fidelity, under all changes and revolutions. His assiduity in promoting the king’s interest in Scotland was uniform ; and of this Charles himself was sensible ; as may be learned from an expression he made use of, when informed of his death. “And what have you done with Patrick Gillespie ?” inquired the king. — “ He had so many friends in the house,” was the reply, “ that his life could not be taken !”■ — “Well,” said his majesty, — “if I had known you would have spared Gillespie, I would have spared Guthrie.” In a word, Guthrie was a man adorned with almost every qualification, necessary to complete either the man or the Christian. Besides the writings already noticed, he wrote a pamphlet against Cromwell, for which he suffered several hardships during the usurper’s supremacy. The last sermon he preached at Stirling, from Mat. 14. 22, entitled “A Cry from the Dead,” with his Ten Considerations anent the Decay of Religion, were first published by himself, in 1660 ; and an authentic paper written and subscribed by himself upon the occa- sion of his being stoned by the resolution party, in 1656, for his accession to the call of Mr Robert Rule to be his colleague, * So named from Erastus, a physician of the sixteenth century, who taught that the power of the sovereign was supreme in all matters, both temporal and spiritual; and that if a church as- sumed powers of government and discipline, it un- warrantably encroached on the authority of the magistrate. In opposing this doctrine, the church of Scotland — at the time of which we write — engaged in one of her most perilous struggles, and shed not a little of her best blood. after the death of Mr Bennet. He also wrote a treatise on Ruling Elders and Deacons, affixed to the last edition of his cousin Mr William Guthrie’s “ Trial of a Saving Interest in Christ.” TESTIMONY OF JAMES GUTHRIE. His Speech on the Scaffold. “ Men and brethren, I fear many of you be come hither to gaze, rather than to be edified by the carriage and last words of a dying man : but if any have an ear to hear, as I hope some of this great conflux ence have, I desire your audience to a few words. I am come hither to lay down this earthly tabernacle and mortal flesh of mine; and I bless God, through his grace, I do it willingly, and not by constraint. I say, I suffer willingly : if I had been so minded, I might have made a diversion, and not been a prisoner ; but being conscious to myself of nothing worthy of death or of bonds, I would not stain my innocency with the suspicion of guiltiness by my withdrawing: neither have I wanted opportunities and advantages to escape since I was prisoner, nor by the fault of my keepers, God knoweth, but otherwise ; but neither for this had I light or liberty, lest I should reflect upon the Lord’s name, and offend the generation of the righteous : and if some men have not been mistaken, or dealt deceitfully in telling me so, I might have avoided not only the severity of the sentence, but also had much favour and countenance, by complying with the courses of the time : but I durst not redeem my life with the loss of my integrity; God knoweth I durst not ; and that since I was prisoner, he hath so holden me by the hand, that he never suffered me to bring it into debate in my inward thoughts, much less JAMES GUTHRIE. 403 to propone or hearken to any overture of that kind. I did judge it better to suffer than to sin; and therefore I am come hither to lay down my life this day. And I bless God, I die not as a fool ; nor that I have anything wherein to glory in my- self : I acknowledge that I am a sinner, yea, one of the greatest and vilest that has owned a profession of religion, and one of the most unworthy that has preached the gospel ; my corruptions have been strong and many, and have made me a sinner in all things, yea, even in following my duty: and therefore, righteousness have I none of mine own, all is vile ; but, 4 1 do be- lieve that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, whereof I am chief.’ Through faith in his righteousness and blood have I obtained mercy ; and through him and him alone, have I the hope of a blessed conquest and victory over sin, and Satan, and hell, and death ; and that 4 1 shall attain unto the resurrection of the just and be made partaker of eternal life. 4 1 know in whom I have believed, and that he is able to keep that which I have com- mitted unto him against that day.’ I have preached salvation through his name, and as I have preached, so do I believe, and do commend the riches of his free grace, and faith in his name unto you all, as the only way whereby ye can be saved. 44 And as I bless the Lord that I die not as a fool ; so also, that I die not for evil-doing. Not a few of you may haply judge, that 4 1 suffer as a murderer, or as an evil-doer, or as a thief, or as a busybody in other men’s mat- ters.’ It -was the lot of the Lord Jesus Christ himself, and hath been of many of his pre- cious servants and people, to suffer by the world as evil-doers ; and as my soul scareth not at it, but desireth to rejoice in being brought into conformity with my blessed Head, and so blessed a company in this thing ; so I do desire and pray, that I may be to none of you to-day, upon this account, 4 a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence.’ Blessed is he that shall not be offended at Jesus Christ, and his poor servants and members, because of their being condemned as evil-doers by the world. God is my record, that in these things for which sentence of death hath passed against me, I have a good conscience ! I bless God, they are not matters of compliance with sectaries, or designs and practices against his majesty’s person or government, or the person or government of his royal father. My heart, I bless God, is conscious unto no disloyalty ; nay, loyal I have been, and I commend it unto you to be loyal ^nd obedient unto the Lord. True piety is the foundation of true loyalty : a wicked man may be a flatterer and a time-server, but he will never be a loyal subject. But to return to my purpose ; the matters for which I am condemned are matters be- longing to my calling and function as a minister of the gospel, such as the dis- covery and the reproving of sin; the pressing and the holding fast of the oath of God in the covenant, and preserving and carrying on the work of religion and reformation according thereto ; and denying to acknow- ledge the civil magistrate as the ‘proper competent judge in causes ecclesiastical:’ that in all these things which (God so ordering by his gracious providence) are the grounds of my indictment and death, I have a good conscience, as having walked therein according to the light and rule of God’s word, and as did become a minister of the gospel. 44 1 do also bless the Lord, that I do not die as 4 one not desired.’ I know that, by not a few, I neither have been nor am de- sired. It hath been my lot to have been a man of contention and sorrow ; but it is my comfort, that for my own things I have not contended, but for the things of Jesus Christ, for what relateth to his interest and work, and the well-being of his people. L SCOTS WORTHIES. 404 | In order to the preserving and promoting of these, I did protest against, and stood ; in opposition unto, these late Assemblies at I St Andrews, Dundee, and Edinburgh ; and | the public resolutions for bringing the malignant party into the judicatories and I armies of this kingdom, conceiving the j i same contrary to the word of God, and to | our solemn covenants and engagements ; | and to be an inlet to defection, and to the ' ruin and destruction of the work of God. j And it is now manifest to many consciences, | that I have not been therein mistaken ; j nor was not fighting against a man of straw. I was also desirous, and did use some poor endeavours to have the church of God ! purged of insufficient, scandalous, and cor- rupt ministers and elders ; for these things I have been mistaken by some, and hated by others ; but, I bless the Lord, as I had j the testimony of my own conscience, so I | was and am therein approved in the con- j sciences of many of the Lord’s precious j servants and people ; and how little soever j I may die desired, by some, yet by these ! I know I do die desired, and their appro- j; bation, and prayers, and affection, are of | more value with me, than the contradic- | tion, or reproach, or hatred, of many others ; the love of the one I cannot recompense, and the mistake, or hatred, or reproach, of the other, I do with all my heart forgive ; and wherein I have offended any of them, do beg their mercy and forgiveness. I do from my soul wish that my death may be profitable unto both, that the one may | be confirmed and established in the straight | ways of the Lord, and that the other (if | the Lord so will) may be convinced, and | cease from these things that are not good, | and do not edify, but destroy. “ One thing I would warn you all of, that God is wroth, yea, very wroth with Scotland, and threateneth to depart and remove his candlestick ' the causes of his | wrath are many, and would to God it were not one great cause, that Causes of God’s Wrath are despised and rejected of men. Consider the case that is recorded, Jer. xxxvi, and the consequence of it, and tremble and fear. Let my death grieve none of you, — it will be more profitable and advantageous both for me, and for you, and for the church of God, and for Christ’s interest and honour, than my life could have been. I forgive all men the guilt of it, and I desire you to do so also : ‘ Pray for them that persecute you, and bless them that curse you ; bless, I say, and curse not.’ I die in the faith of the apostles and primitive Christians, and protestant reformed churches, particu- larly of the church of Scotland, whereof I am a member and minister. I bear my witness and testimony to the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government of the church of Scotland, by Kirk Sessions, Pres- byteries, Synods, and General Assemblies. Popery, prelacy, and all the trumpery of service and ceremonies that wait upon them, I do abhor. I do bear witness unto the National Covenant of Scotland, and the Solemn League and Covenant betwixt the three kingdoms of Scotland, England, and Ireland: these sacred, solemn, public oaths of God, I believe, can be loosed nor dis- pensed with, by no person, no party, no power upon earth; but are still binding upon these kingdoms, and will be for ever hereafter; and are ratified and sealed by the conversion of many thousand souls, since our entering thereinto. I bear my witness to the protestation against the con- troverted Assemblies, and the public reso- lutions ; to the testimonies given against the sectaries ; against the course of back- sliding and defection that is now on foot in the land, and all the branches and parts thereof, under whatsoever name or notion, or acted by whatsoever party or person. And in the last place, I bear my witness i to the cross of Jesus Christ; and that I 9 WILLIAM GOVAN. never had cause, nor have cause this day, to repent because of anything I have suffered, or can now suffer for his name. I take God to record upon my soul, I would not exchange this scaffold, with the palace or mitre of the greatest prelate in Britain. Blessed be God, who hath showed mercy to such a wretch, and hath revealed his Son in me, and made me a minister of the everlasting gospel ; and that he hath deigned, in the midst of much contradiction from Satan and the world, to seal my ministry upon the hearts of not a few of his people, and especially in the station wherein I was last, — I mean the congrega- tion and presbytery of Stirling. God for- give the poor empty man that did there intrude upon my labours, and hath made a prey of many poor souls, and exposed others to reproach, and oppression, and a famine of the word of the Lord. God forgive the misleaders of that part of the poor people, who tempted them to reject their own pastor, and to admit of intruders ; and the Father of mercies pity that poor misled people ; and the Lord visit the congrega- 405 tion and presbytery of Stirling once more with faithful pastors, and grant that the work and people of God may be revived through all Britain, and over all the world. Jesus Christ is my light, and my life, my righteousness, my strength, and my salvation : ‘ He is all my salvation, and all my desire.’ Him, Oh, Him, I do with all the strength of my soul commend unto you. ‘ Blessed are they that are not offended in him: blessed are they that trust in him. Bless him, O my soul, from henceforth, even for ever.’ Rejoice, rejoice all ye that love him; be patient and rejoice in tribulation: blessed are you, and blessed shall you be for ever and ever. Everlasting righteous- ness and eternal salvation are yours : ‘All are yours, for ye are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.’ e Remember me, O Lord, with the favour thou bearest to thy people ; O visit me with thy salvation, that I may see the good of thy chosen, that I may rejoice in the gladness of thy nation ; that I may glory with thine inheritance.’ — 4 Now let thy servant depart in peace, since mine eyes have seen thy salvation.’ ” WILLIAM GOVAN. Biography seems to be silent concerning the birth and life of this worthy man, who suffered along with Mr Guthrie. All that is known of him is, that in some writings he is styled Captain Govan, from which it has been concluded, that he was a soldier. The principal offence with which he was charged was, that of having deserted the king’s standard at Hamilton, along with many others, at a time when the repeated victories obtained by Cromwell rendered all hope of further resistance unavailing. It was farther alleged against him, that he was on the scaffold when Charles I. was beheaded; but this he satisfactorily dis- proved by establishing an alibi. Upon the scaffold he took a ring from his finger, and gave it to a friend, desiring him to carry it to his wife, and to say to her that “he died in humble confidence, and found the cross of Christ sweet.” He declared that “ Christ had done all for him, and that it was by him alone he had been justified.” Being desired to look up to Christ, he answered, — “ He looketh down and smileth upon me.” After which, hav- 1 SCOTS WORTHIES. 406 ing ascended the ladder, he said, — “ Dear friends, pledge this cup of suffering as I have done, before you sin ; for sin and suffering have been presented to me, and I have chosen the suffering part.” After the rope had been put round his neck, and adjusted, he said : — “ Now I am near my last, and I desire to reflect upon no man. I would only mention one thing. The Commissioner and I went out to the battle-field together for the same cause, — I have now the cord about my neck ; and he is promoted to be his majesty’s commis- sioner ; yet for a thousand worlds I would not exchange lots with him. Praise and glory be to Christ for ever !” After a short pause, and having prayed for a little, he gave the signal, and in a few moments was in possession of his crown. He was accounted a pious and good man, and was evidently a firm ad- herent to the presbyterian cause. His head was afterwards placed above the West Port, in the city of Edinburgh. TESTIMONY OF WILLIAM GOYAN. His Speech on the Scaffold . “ Gentlemen and Countrymen, — I am here to suffer this day; and that I may declare to you the cause — it is for laying j down my arms at Hamilton, as did all the | rest of the company that were there, i What was I, that king and parliament should have taken notice of me, being a private boy thrust forth into the fields, who was not worthy to be noticed by any? For as I was obscure in myself, so my actions were not conspicuous. Yet it pleased the Lord to employ me as a mean and instrument — unworthy as I was — for carrying on a part of the late Reformation ; which I did faithfully endeavour in my i station, not going beyond it, — for which I am to suffer this day. “ Licentious people have taken occa- sion to calumniate me, by saying I was an instrument in his late majesty’s death, and that I should have said I was on the scaffold at the time of his execution: — all which I do here deny, in the pres- ence of Almighty God, to whom I must shortly answer. And, before you all, I do here protest, as I hope for salvation, that I was not instrumental in that, either in word or deed. But on the contrary, it was sore against my heart, who was still a wellwisher of his majesty, and even wished he might be to these lands as David, Solo- mon, and Josiah. But what could a simple protestation of one who is the least among men do ? I do indeed remember I was honoured to bring up Montrose’s standard through these streets, and deliver it to the parliament; in which I glory, as thou- sands more than I did at that time ; for I was then but an actor in the cause ; but now I am a sufferer for it. “ It pleased the Lord, in the fourteenth year of my age, to manifest his love to me, and now it is about twenty-four years since, — all which time I professed the truth which I suffer for, and bear testimony to, at this day, and am not afraid of the cross upon that account : — It is sweet, it is sweet — otherwise how durst I look upon the corpse of him who hangs there, with courage, and smile upon those sticks and that gibbet as the gates of heaven! I die confident in the faith of the prophets and apostles, bearing my testimony to the gospel as it is now preached by an honest ministry in this city : though, alas ! there is a corrupt generation among the ministry. “ I bear witness with my blood to the persecuted government of this church, in General Assemblies, Synods, and Presby- teries, and also to the protestation against the public resolutions. I bear -witness to EARL OF LOUDON. the covenants, National and Solemn League, and now am to seal these with my blood. I likewise testify against all popery, prelacy, idolatry, superstition, and the service-book ; for I have taken not a little pains in searching out those things, and have found JOHN CAMPBELL, This distinguished nobleman was heir to Sir James Campbell of Lawers, and hus- band of Margaret, countess of Loudon. At the coronation of Charles I., he was raised to the peerage, under the title of earl of Loudon, along with several others of the Scottish nobility. From his youth he was well affected to the presbyterian cause ; and, about the year 1637, when the second Reformation began to dawn, he not only joined the Covenanters, but, when the General As- sembly met at Glasgow, in November, 1638, he gave regular attendance, and was found to be of great service, both by his excellent advice, and the many eloquent speeches he delivered. When the dispute arose between the marquis of Hamilton the king’s commissioner, and some of the mem- bers, regarding the election of an Assembly clerk, Loudon, in name of the commission- ers to the Assembly, gave in reasons of a very high and independent strain, why the lord-commissioner and his assessors ought to have but one vote in the house, in opposition to the marquis, who insisted upon the contrary. These reasons were drawn out in such a masterly manner, that the earl of Traquair craved a copy, pro- mising to answer them; but the reply never made its appearance. About the same time, too, he told the king’s commis- sioner : — ■“ That he knew of no other bond 407 them to be but the relics of the Romish superstition and idolatry left in king Henry VIII.’s time ; who, though it pleased the Lord to make use of him for beginning the work of Reformation, yet he was no good man.” betwixt a king and his subjects, than re- ligion and the laws ; and, if these were violated, men’s lives were not dear to them ; that such fears were past with his party.” Galled to the heart to see that Presbv- " I tery was almost restored, and prelacy w r ell nigh abolished, the king, with the advice ! of his bishops, immediately put himself at ! the head of an army, in order to reduce j the Scots. They, however, having heard of his hostile intentions, were not a whit behind. Both armies marched towards the border ; but, upon the approach of the Scots, the English became intimidated, and a truce was agreed upon. Commissioners having been appointed to treat on both sides, the Scottish army deputed lord Loudon, who, on his knees, informed the king, “ That their demand was only to enjoy their religion and liberties, according j to the ecclesiastical and civil laws of the kingdom.” To this Charles replied : — “ That if that was all they desired, peace would soon be made;” — promising at the same time “that all ecclesiastical matters be decided by an Assembly ; and civil matters by the parliament; which Assembly should be held once a year ; and that on the 6th of August there should be a free General Assembly, when he himself would be present, and pass an Act of oblivion, to that effect.” These preliminaries were subscribed by the commissioners on both EABL OF LOUDON. 408 SCOTS WORTHIES. sides, in the sight of both armies, at Kirks, near Berwick, on the 18th day of June, 1639. The treaty, however, was but of short duration ; for, at the instigation of the bishops, the king soon after caused the articles of peace to be burnt by the hang- man, charging the Scots, at the same time, with violating the terms of agreement, although Loudon satisfactorily proved the contrary. Charles was far from being pleased at the freedom of speech which Loudon had used ; but he was permitted to return home for the time. In the mean time the General Assembly met at Edinburgh, on the 12th of August, and Mr David Dickson was chosen mode- rator. Among other matters Henderson and Ramsay moved, that episcopacy was of human origin, and altogether an institu- tion of man, when the earl of Traquair interrupted the discussion, and declared that he did not wish them to go into any dispute upon the subject ; but merely to show how far episcopacy was contrary to the constitution of the Scottish church. Loudon most satisfactorily explained the Act of Assembly, 1580, which condemned the office of bishops, prior to the sub- scribing of the National Covenant, and observed that, — Episcopacy, having no warrant in the word of God, and Presby- tery having that warrant, had been ac- cordingly sworn in the National Covenant. The parliament met on the same day on which the Assembly w T as prorogued; but entering upon business to which the king was altogether averse, Traquair managed mat- ters so as to put a stop to all their proceedings. In this unpleasant state of affairs, Dunferm- line and Loudon were sent to implore his ma- jesty to allow the house to proceed; but be- fore these two noblemen reached the palace, orders were sent, discharging them in the king’s name, from coming within a mile of the court, upon pretence that they had no warrant from his majesty’s com- missioner. In the mean time the king prorogued the parliament till the second of June, 1640 ; and in that state the affairs of the nation lay over until January, 1641, when the parliamentary committee, having ob- tained leave to send up deputies to repre- sent their grievances, pitched upon Dun- fermline and Loudon, with Douglas of Cavers, and Mr Barclay, provost of Irvine, for that purpose. His majesty received them with apparent courtesy, and even permitted them to kiss hands ; but as they understood they were not to be honoured with a private audience, they craved a copy of Traquair’s information to the English council ; but were refused. On the 3d of March, however, this honour was granted them, when Loudon took occasion to inform the king, that his ancient and native kingdom was independent of any other judicatory, and solicited his majesty’s protection in defence of religion, liberty, and the cause of the church. Concerning those who had misrepresented the Scots to Charles, his lordship said: — “ If it please God for our sins to make our condition so deplorable as that our enemies may get the shadow of your majesty’s authority to pal- liate their ends — as we hope in God they will not — then, as those who are sworn to defend our religion, our recourse must be to the God of Jacob for our refuge, who is the Lord of lords, and King of kings, by whom kings reign and princes decree jus- tice. And if, in speaking thus — out of zeal for our religion, the duty we owe to our country, and in vindication of the heavy charge brought against us — we have said anything unadvisedly in the warmth of our attachment to the cause, we fall down at your majesty’s feet, craving pardon, in all humility, for our freedom. But, in the present state of affairs, it is necessary that we distinguish between church and state. EARL OF LOUDON. 409 ■ — between the ecclesiastical and civil power ; both being materially one, and yet, formally, distinct in power, in jurisdiction, in laws, in bodies, in ends, in offices, and officers. For, although the church and her ecclesiastic assemblies be formally dif- ferent and distinct frojn parliament and civil judicatories ; yet there is so strict and necessary a conjunction betwixt ecclesiastic and civil jurisdiction, betwixt religion and justice, that the one cannot properly exist and be preserved without the other, — and therefore they must stand and fall, live and die together.” After having enlarged at considerable length upon the privileges of both, he concluded thus: — “ That your ma- jesty may be graciously pleased to com- mand that the parliament proceed freely to determine upon the articles given in to them ; and, whatsoever exceptions, objec- tions, or informations, are made against any of the particular overtures, &c., we are most willing to receive the same in writing ; and shall, in the same way, re- turn our answers and humble desires.”* The Scots commissioners having ap- peared on the 11th of March, and produced their instructions, a good deal of conversa- tion followed between the king and them ; in course of which, archbishop Laud, who sat to the right of his majesty, was ob- served to treat them contemptuously, by instigating the king to tease them with questions altogether foreign from the na- ture of their commission. Upon this oc- casion, it seemed evident that nothing else had been intended by Traquair than to intrap the commissioners by his questions ; but he was met at every point by argu- ments which he found impossible to over- turn. Recourse was therefore had to the strong arm of despotic law, and the whole of the commissioners were taken into custody. The earl of Loudon was sent to the Tower * History of the Stuarts, vol. I. for a letter alleged to have been written by him, and sent by the Scots to the French king, of the following tenor: — “ Sire, “ Your majesty being the refuge and sanctuary of afflicted princes and states, we have found it necessary to send this gentleman, Mr Colville, to represent to your majesty the candour and ingenuity, as well of our actions and proceedings, as of our inventions, which we desire to be engraven and written in the whole world, with a beam of the sun, as well as to your majesty. We therefore beseech you, Sire, to give faith and credit to him, and to all that he shall say on our part, touching us and our affairs. Being much assured, Sire, of an assistance equal to your wonted clemency heretofore, and so often showed to the nation, which will not yield the glory of any other whatsoever, to be eternally,” “ Sire, “ Your majesty’s most humble, most obedient, and most affectionate servant.” For information upon this important point, we are indebted to the author of “ History of the Stuarts,” who maintains that the letter was composed by Montrose, when the king w 7 as marching with a powerful army against Scotland ; and that it was copied by Loudon, and subscribed by himself, Montrose, Rothes, Marr, Mont- gomery, Forrester, and General Leslie; but that it never was sent. The copy was without date, and without address; and having been judged inelegant French, the idea had been dropped. But it was enough for Traquair’s sinistrous purposes, who, by some means or other had got possession of it; and the king’s imbecile mind was not very difficult to rouse. The earl having been called before the council to answer to the charge, at once acknow- ledged the manuscript and signature to be his own ; but stated at the same time, in 3 F SCOTS WORTHIES. 410 I defence, that all this had been done when I his majesty was marching with a hostile I ! army against his native country ; and that, I in these circumstances, they could think of no one better qualified to act as their in- tercessor, and to whom the king would be more disposed to listen, than the French king, — being his majesty’s own near rela- | tion : but that having been judged too late, the letter had never been so much as i I addressed, and therefore had not been sent, as both that and the want of a date would I testify. All was of no avail, and the earl was I I remanded to prison. Charles was deter- I ! mined that his life should be sacrificed, and jj that too, in the most cowardly manner, | without trial or conviction, and, by the ! hand of an assassin. Burnet, in his “Me- moirs of the Duke of Hamilton,” acknow- 1 1 ledges that the king was advised to proceed I capitally against Loudon ; but Rushworth, I an English historian, affirms, that about three o’clock in the afternoon, the king !l sent his own letter to William Balfour, lieutenant of the Tow r er, commanding him ; to see the lord Loudon’s head struck off, j within the Tower, before nine the next 1 morning. That his lordship might pre- pare for death, the lieutenant gave him immediate notice of this command. Con- fident in the justice of his cause, the earl received the intimation with astonishing serenity and composure of mind. The lieutenant, at the same time, informed the marquis of Hamilton, and both immediately set off to the king, whom they found in | bed. Scarcely had the warrant been named, when the king, suspecting their business, stopped them, and in a rage ex- claimed, — “by G — d, it shall be executed!” The marquis, however, remonstrated with him upon the perfidiousness of his design, and laid before him the fatal consequences that might ensue, by alienating from him the nobility, from whom his own life I might be in danger ; and that Scotland, to a man, would immediately arm against him. Like a pettish babe foiled in its intention, the poor king demanded the warrant, and tore it in pieces, — dismissing the marquis and lieutenant somewhat unce- remoniously. About the 28th of June, by the good providence of God, the noble lord obtained his * liberty, after having been in- structed to conceal his harsh treatment from his countrymen, and to use all his endeavours to dispose them to peace, — but another crisis was at hand. The Scots were resolute, and Charles evinced no dis- position to give way. A new war, there- fore, broke out, and the king put himself at the head of the army to suppress the Scots. They, however, were not tardy in their preparations, and accordingly pushed their way as far as Durham, with marked suc- cess. In all this Loudon acted no incon- spicuous part. Through his endeavours the citizens of Edinburgh and other places cheerfully contributed money and other necessaries to carry on the war. The king’s troops were defeated at Newbum, and he found himself reduced to the necessity of appointing commissioners to treat with the Scots. The meeting took place at Rippon, on the 1st of October, 1640, and the earls of Dunfermline, Rothes, and Loudon, with Messrs Henderson and Johnston, were appointed commissioners on the side of the Scots. After agreeing to a truce for three months, the treaty w r as transferred to London. In addition to the former commissioners w T ere now added Messrs Robert Blair, Robert Baillie, and George Gillespie, three of the brightest ornaments of the church, as chaplains to the three noblemen formerly nominated. Great hopes were entertained by the friends of the church in England, that something w r ould now be done to restore peace to the suffering presbyterians, and they were not altogether disappointed. EARL OF In the following year, the king made another tour to Scotland to be present at a meeting of parliament, before which Traquair, Montrose, and some other vio- lent nobles had been cited to appear, for stirring up strife between the king and his subjects, and for tampering with the Covenanters. Loudon, mindful of the recommendation given him by his sovereign the year before, interceded so warmly in be- half of some of the accused, that, for a time, suspicion went abroad that he had changed sides. Nothing, however, was farther from his heart. After the strictest scrutiny into his conduct and motives for such unprecedented liberality, the house declared that he had conducted himself faithfully and prudently in all his public appointments, and that he not only merited an act of approbation, but deserved besides to be rewarded by the Estates. With none of the Scots commissioners did the English act so generously as with the earl, and none of them, at any time, acted to- wards the king with such candour as he did. Once more, therefore, he was ap- pointed to go to London with the newly revised treaty, subscribed by the lord-presi- dent and others. Soon after this, by the king’s special will, the noble earl was ap- pointed chancellor, much against his own inclination, and the solicitation of his friends, who would have had him nominated to the office of lord-treasurer. Accord- ingly, on the 2d October, 1642, his lord- ship was installed into office, when the great seal, which had been kept by the marquis of Hamilton for two years, was, with the mace, delivered to him out of his majesty’s own hand, after having taken the oath of allegiance, and* de fideli ad- ministratione officii. As soon as this cere- mony was over, he was placed in a seat at his majesty’s feet, on the right of the * Faithful discharge of duty. LOUDON. 411 lord-president, from which he immediately rose, and, falling upon his knee before the king, said : — “ Promotion cometh neither from the east nor from the west, but from God alone. I acknowledge that I have received this from your majesty, as God’s j vicegerent upon earth, and the fountain of all earthly honour in this kingdom, and I will endeavour to answer the expectation your majesty looks for, and to deserve the good will of this honourable house, in j faithfully discharging what you both, with- out any merit on my part, have imposed upon me.” — How altered the scene ! — Only a few short months previous he had re- ceived from the sovereign the sentence of death, for the cause of Christ and his church ; and now, by the same authority, he is intrusted with the helm of the highest affairs in the kingdom. True it is, — •“ The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and before honour is humility.” Loudon began now to exert himself for the welfare of the church and nation ; and, as the most expedient way to bring about a firm and lasting peace between the two kingdoms, he earnestly importuned Charles to call together his English parliament. In 1645, he was unremitting in his endea- vours to establish that happy uniformity in doctrine, discipline, and church-govern- ment, which then took place ; and, in the following year, he accosted the king in the following terms : — “ The difference between your majesty and your parliament is grown to such a height, that, after many bloody battles, they have your majesty, with all your garrisons and strongholds, in their hands. They are in a capacity now to do what they will, in church and state ; and some are afraid, and others unwilling to proceed to extremities, till they know your majesty’s final resolution. Now, Sire, if your majesty refuse to assent to what is proposed, you will lose all your friends in the house and in the city, and SCOTS WORTHIES. 412 all England will unite against you as one man — they will depose you, and establish another government — they will compel us ! to deliver up your majesty to them, and remove our arms out of England ; and, upon your refusal, we shall be obliged to settle religion, and make peace without you, which will ruin your majesty and your posterity. We confess that the pro- ! posals are, in some points, not to our mind ; but the only method for your majesty to adopt is, to consent to them at present. Your majesty may recover, in time of peace, all that you have lost in a time of tempest and trouble.” In 1648, he was again employed on a similar errand, but with no better success ; and in the same year, in the month of June, he was attacked by the troops under the command of Calender and Middleton, when at a communion on Mauchline moor, with a handful of Covenanters, after these gentlemen had given him their promise to the contrary. A new scene of affairs began to appear j in 1650, and darker days than ever seemed to await the suffering church. Charles I. had been put to death — the Scots had re- called his son Charles II. — the malignants had got into place and power — and, under all these circumstances, Loudon felt it j necessary to resign his offices, being un- I able to breathe in such a pestilential at- mosphere. He had presided in parliament for nearly ten years, and, under God, had been instrumental in establishing, both in church and state, the purest reformation ! that had been ever wrought in any country I I under the New Testament dispensation, j How he had been employed during Crom- |j well’s usurpation we are not accurately j informed; but it is probable, that like ! most of the gentlemen of the day, he lived | in a state of comparative seclusion. I No sooner was the king restored to his paternal dominions, than persecution of the most violent nature began to rage ; and it is therefore impossible to express the grief | which this godly nobleman experienced, when he beheld not only the carved work j of the sanctuary broken down, which he had had such an eminent hand in directing and building up ; but when he found him- self at the mercy of his sovereign for the part he had taken. He was well aware that, next to the marquis of Argyle, he was the butt of the enemy’s malice ; for he had repeatedly applied for his majesty’s good graces, and had been as often refused. Life began now to be a burden to him, and he longed to depart. He often exhorted his excellent lady to pray fast, that he might not see the next session of parliament, else he might follow his dear friend, the marquis of Argyle, and the Lord was pleased to |i grant his request for he died at Edinburgh, on the 15th of March, 1652, before the j convocation of parliament. The merits of this excellent nobleman, renowned patriot, and faithful servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, far exceed human eulogy. With the exception of an error into which he was led through the influ- j ence of the earl of Lanark, his reputation : was without blemish. But no sooner was i his mistake pointed out to him, than he I repented sincerely, and in the true spirit of Christian contrition subscribed an admoni- tion to more diligent watchfulness, to which he ever after most religiously adhered. In the senate he was a consummate orator; in political, social, and domestic life, he was a safe pattern of imitation ; and, as a member of the church of Christ, the honour of his divine Master was his chief aim and end. To the support of our j ancient and admirable constitution, both in 1 church and state, he invariably applied his j excellent endowments, with such unwearied zeal, that he might not improperly be called the chief advocate, both for the civil and religious liberties of the people. What ROBERT BA1LLIE. 413 was wanting in the full measure of his own sufferings, was meted out for his son, James earl of Loudon, who died in exile at Leyden, for his attachment to the same glorious cause. And it is pleasant to remark here, that there are instances, not of an ancient date, of the same noble and independent spirit for civil and religious liberty, in that family of which John, earl of Loudon, was such a distinguished ornament. ROBERT BAILLIE. I | | The subject of this brief but interesting memoir was a native of Glasgow. He was born in the year T599, and was a lineal descendant of the Baillies of Jervis- ton, a member of the house of Carphin, and a branch of the ancient family of Lamington, all in the county of Lanark. By the mother’s side he was descended from the well-known Gibsons of Durie. At the university of Glasgow, where he received his education, he is said to have been so remarkably studious, as to have acquired a knowledge of twelve or thirteen lan- guages, and to have been capable of writ- ing Latin with such classical purity and elegance, as would not have disgraced the age of Augustus. After having completed the study of divinity, he received license from Archbishop Law, and soon after was presented to the living of Kilwinning by the earl of Eglin- ton. At the commencement of the Re- formation, in 1637, he laboured under con- siderable doubts in regard to what party he should attach himself; but at length, after much meditation, reading, and prayer, he cordially embraced the doctrine and discipline of the Covenanters — and, being a man of a sound judgment, he was much employed in the business of the church. In 1638, he was chosen to represent the presbytery of Irvine in the memorable Assembly of that year, at Glasgow, where he conducted himself with great wisdom and moderation. He was also one of those who accompanied the army as chaplains, in 1639 and 1640, and was present during the whole time of the treaty begun at Rippon, and concluded at London. What mental enjoyment he experienced at that time may be best described in his own language : — “ As for myself, I never felt my mind in a better temper than it was all that time, from my outset until my head was again homeward. I was one who had taken leave of the world, and had resolved to die in that service. I found the favour of God shining on me, and a sweet, meek, and humble, yet strong and vehement spirit, leading me along.” In the year following he was sent to London to frame an accusation against archbishop Laud, for the innovations he had attempted to obtrude upon the church. From Kilwinning he was translated to the chair of divinity in the college of Glasgow, about the year 1650. He, too, was one of the commissioners sent to West- minster to assist in framing the church standards ; and so highly estimated were his services, that when that Assembly rose, the English parliament presented him with a testimonial of silver plate, with a suitable in- scription, in consideration of his talents and integrity. This testimonial is said to bo in possession of the family of Carnbroe, i SCOTS WORTHIES. I ! 414 By his first wife, Baillie had one son and four daughters ; and by his second, one daughter, who was married to Walkinshaw ! of Barrowfield. He lived upon the most friendly terms with the marquis of Argyle ; the earls of Cassilis, Eglinton, Lauderdale, and Lou- don ; lord Balmerino, lord Warriston, and the chief men among the covenanting party ; by which intercourse he obtained j the most accurate knowledge of all public transactions. Through the interest of | lord Lauderdale he succeeded to the principality of the college of Glasgow, upon the death of Mr Patrick Gillespie; and, it is said, he was offered a bishopric i about the same time. This, however, he | refused, continuing firm in his adherence | to Presbytery till the end of his life. In the biography prefixed to his Letters, the writer insinuates that his rejection of the offer arose chiefly from an aversion to differ from those with whom he had formerly lived in habits of intimacy ; but a I few extracts from one of his letters to lord Lauderdale, a short time before his death, will exhibit the matter in its true light : — “ Having the occasion of this bearer, I tell you my heart is broken with grief, and I find the burden of the public weighty, and hastening me to my grave. What need you do that disservice to the king which all of you cannot recompense, to grieve the hearts of all your godly friends in Scotland, with pulling down all our laws at once, which concerned our church since 1633 ? Was this good advice, or will it ! thrive ? Is it wise to bring back upon us the Canterburian times, the same designs, ! the same practices ? Will they not bring on the same effects, whatever fools may dream? — My lord, you are the nobleman in all the world I love best, I esteem most. I think I may say I write to you what I please. If you have gone with your heart to forsake your covenant — to coun- tenance the reintroduction of bishops and books, and strengthen the king by your advice in these things, I think you a prime transgressor, and liable among the first to answer for that great sin,” &c. As a further refutation of such an insinuation, when the archbishop came to visit Baillie upon his deathbed, he would not even address him by the title of “ My lord.” Nay, so very seriously did he lay to heart the introduction of prelacy, that only a very few weeks before his death — May 1st 1662 — in a letter to a near relative, he says : — “ The guise is now, the bishops will trouble no man; but the states will punish seditious ministers. This poor church is in the most hard taking that ever we have seen. This is my daily grief ; this hath brought all my bodily trouble on me, and is like to do me more harm.” In the month of July following, he departed this life, aged 63 years. For his profound and general learning, accurate and solid judgment, Baillie may j very justly be reckoned one of the great men j of his time ; but, alas ! great and good as he certainly was, he showed himself not to be altogether capable of resisting the prejudice of human passion. To some of those worthy men to whom he ascribes the highest praise for their instrumentality in carrying on the work of reformation, be- twixt the year 1638 and 1649, he after - 1 wards imputes the most unworthy motives, | when they became remonstrants ; taking all the divisions and calamities that befell the j church, the state, and the army, to proceed j from the protesters not concurring with the party with whom he acted ; whereas, to every reflecting mind it will appear to be exactly the reverse. The last ten years of his otherwise excellent history, published under the title of “ Baillie’s Letters,” must therefore be received with extreme caution. Baillie was of the party called resolu- tioners, and is even said to have composed DAVID DICKSON. 415 some of the papers belonging to that body, in 1661 ; and therefore, it is not to be wondered at, that the protesters could not bind their consciences to the arbitrary dic- tates of the opposite party. They could not lightly violate their solemnly sworn covenant by approving of the admission of such characters as Charles II., and his wicked faction, into the bosom of the church, | — in defence of which covenant many of j them faced the gibbet, suffered banishment, ! and endured imprisonment with all its at- I tendant horrors ; while it is well known | that several hundreds of the resolutioners afterwards apostatized most shamefully, and even became violent persecutors of those who, for conscience’ sake, were faithful unto the death. In erudition, Baillie may, nevertheless, be very justly esteemed an honour to his country. Among his multitudinous writ- ings may be mentioned his Scripture Chronology, written in Latin ; his Can- terburian Self- Conviction ; his Parallel, or Comparison of the Liturgy with the Mass- Book; his Dissuasion against the Errors of the Times, besides his Historical Papers and Letters. He also wrote Laudensium, an article against Arminianism ; a Re- ply to the Modest Inquirer, with other Tracts, and several Sermons on other occasions. DAVID DICKSON. This intrepid servant of God was the only son of Mr John Dickson, merchant in Glasgow, who was a feuar of some lands in the barony of Fintry, called the Kirk of the Moor, in the parish of St Ninians. He is said to have been born about the year 1583. His parents were several years married before his birth ; and, being ar- dently devoted to religion, the subject of this memoir was early set apart for the ministry. It would appear that they had, afterwards, in a great measure, fallen from this reso- lution, until Providence visited their son with a severe fever, and brought to their remembrance the vow which they had formerly made. Upon his recovery, there- fore, he was sent to resume his studies at the college of Glasgow. After taking his degree of Master of Arts, he was appointed to teach philosophy in the University ; at which time he, prin- cipal Boyd of Trochrigg, and Mr Blair, were singularly felicitous in reviving piety i among the youth, which, from the time that prelacy had been imposed upon the church, had fallen sadly into decay. In 1618, Dickson was ordained minister of Irvine, where he laboured with great fidelity for about twenty-three years. Upon his first entrance to the ministry he had no great aversion to episcopacy; but after the “ Five Articles of Perth” were passed, and he began to turn his mind seriously to the subject, the more he studied them, he was satisfied of their papistical origin. At length, after recovering from a dangerous illness, he gave open testimony to their sinfulness. No sooner was archbishop Law informed of this, than he summoned Dickson to compear before the High Commission Court on the ninth of January, 1622. The archbishop told him that he had been ordered by the king to take cognizance why he had not obeyed the Perth Articles, and why he had been so active in 1 416 SCOTS WORTHIES. j 1 ! | 1 endeavouring to prevent the legislature from enforcing the observance of these | Articles. Dickson said, the chief reason why he did not obey them was, because he saw no reason wherefore they should be commanded ; that in all matters which concern the worship of God, there must be a sufficient scriptural reason for the injunction of these ; hut, if not, a man might lawfully refuse to give obedience ; — that he found he could not with a safe conscience yield compliance, and therefore he was ready, by the grace of God, to suffer whatever flesh and blood could do to him. After submitting with exemplary patience to a great many scurrilous taunts from the bishops, and being asked whether he would obey the king or not, he replied, — “ I will obey the king in all things in the Lord !” “ I told you so,” said Law, “I knew he would answer with a limitation.” Spottiswood, contemptuously staring him in the face, said, — “ These men will talk of humility and meekness, and of the Spirit of God ; but they are led by the spirit of the devil — there is more pride in you, than in all the bishops of Scotland. I hanged a Jesuit in Glasgow for the like fault.” — Dickson very coolly replied, — “ I am not a rebel ; I stand here as the king’s subject ; all I de- mand is the benefit of the law, and the right of a subject ; I crave no more !” After all they could advance, he continued inflexible ; whereupon sentence of deposi- tion was pronounced against him, and he was ordered to enter himself in ward, at Tureff, in the north, within twenty days. Dickson heard his sentence unmoved, and calmly replied — “ The will of the Lord be done ! — though you cast me off, the Lord will take me up, — send me whither ye will, I hope my Master will go with me ; and as He has been with me hitherto, he will be with his own weak servant still!” He continued to preach, nevertheless, till the twenty days were expired ; after which he began to prepare for his journey. j But the Earl of Eglinton had prevailed upon the bishop of Glasgow to allow him to come and preach at Eglinton. In conse- quence, however, of the vast crowds that flocked to hear him from all quarters, he enjoyed that liberty only two months, when the bishop sent him another charge, and ordered him to repair without delay to his place of confinement. After he had been for a considerable time in Tureff, where he was much em- ployed in preaching the word, his friends prevailed upon the bishop of Glasgow to restore him to his flock, upon condition he would recall his declinature ; and upon being invited, he accordingly came to Glasgow. To persuade him to compliance, however, was found impossible ; although the conditions were so modified, as to re- quire him merely to go to the bishop’s house, and either lift the paper, or permit a friend to take it off the table, without even seeing the bishop ; and thus, by so doing, he would be at liberty to return to Irvine. His honest soul spurned the idea, and he chose rather to go back to his con- ! finement. And such was the testimony of the Spirit to his honourable conduct, that he had not proceeded above a mile out of town, when he experienced great joy, and a sense of the divine approbation, at the manner in which he had conducted himself. Some time after, however, through the unwearied intercession of the earl of Eglin- ton, and the parishioners of Irvine, he was permitted to return and exercise his min- istry until the king himself should chal- lenge him. This took place about the end j of July, 1623. His labours in that parish were singu- larly blessed, and many, by his instrumen- tality, were brought to a knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. Besides his own parishioners, many attended his ministry j DAVID DICKSON. 417 from other quarters, especially those who were under the tuition of the Spirit, and were labouring under concern about their spiritual and eternal welfare. The com- ! munions at Irvine, in Dickson’s day, were seasons of great refreshing from the pre- sence of the Lord ; yet, in the exercise of genuine humility, he remarked, — “that | the vintage of Irvine was not equal to the | gleanings of Ayr in Mr Welch’s time.” In addition to his public stated labours on sabbaths, the evenings of that day were generally taken up in conversing with j serious persons ; in administering consola- tion to those who were labouring under doubt ; and in affording direction to those who were seeking the way to Zion, with their faces thitherward. He had generally sermon on Monday too, which, being the weekly market, was numerously attended. It is remarkable, that although episcopacy was very prevalent at that time, serious practical religion flourished greatly among the presbyterians all over the west of ! Scotland. From 1630 till 1637, Dickson’s manse was a house of refuge to many of his poor persecuted brethren in the ministry; but especially to those unhappy men in Ireland, who, during that period, had been deposed, ejected, and hunted down like beasts of i prey, by the Irish bishops. In 1637, Dickson prevailed upon the pres- i bytery of Irvine to petition for the suppres- | sion of the Service-Book, who, being joined ; by other three deputations from different I quarters, laid the foundation of that happy j change of affairs which soon afterward took place; and, it is worthy of observa- tion, that these four different bodies, un- known to each other, all met at the Council house door, upon the same errand. Dickson was one of the party sent to Aberdeen, to persuade that town and county to join in renewing the covenant — and there he came in contact with the learned doctors Forbes, Barrow, and Sib- || bald, the result of whose debates is well- known. In the General Assembly, too, | at Glasgow, in November, 1638, he signa- j lized himself very remarkably, by a season- ! able and judicious speech, when his ma- jesty’s commissioner threatened to leave the Assembly ; and also by a most learned discourse against Arminianism at the j eleventh sederunt, on thel5th of December.* | By this time the fame of his ministry, I and his singular prudence, learning, and holy zeal, had spread so much among his ; brethren, that he was chosen, almost un- | animously, moderator of the next Assembly, in 1639 ; on the tenth sederunt of which, a call from the city of Glasgow was pre- sented to him ; but partly, in consequence of his own unwillingness to accept, and the strenuous opposition of the earl of Eglinton and his own parishioners, and especially on account of his usefulness in that quarter, the Assembly thought it ad- } visable to continue him in his charge, j Not long after, however, he was removed to the divinity chair in that university, where he was particularly successful in J training young men for the church ; and where, for some time, he enjoyed the col- legiate assistance of Mr Patrick Gillespie, as minister of the High Church. In 1643, the General Assembly nomi- nated Dickson, Calderwood, and Hender- son, as a triumvirate, to draw out a Di- rectory for Public Worship — and, four years after, when a deadly epidemic pervaded Glasgow, he found it necessary to remove, with the young people under his charge, to Irvine, which was uninfected. It was there the learned Durham passed his trials, and was earnestly recommended by the ! professor to the presbytery and magistrates of Glasgow ; and by these two celebrated * See the first in Stevenson’s History, p. 562 ; and the last in the Assembly Journal. 3 G 418 SCOTS WORTHIES. divines was composed “ The Sum of Sav- ing Knowledge,” a small treatise which is generally bound up along with the Con- fession of Faith, &c. About this time he was removed to the theological chair in the university of Edin- burgh, where he soon after published his “ Prselectiones in Confessionem Fidei,”* which he delivered to the students in Latin ; but which is now translated into English. His assiduity in the metropolitan college was no less conspicuous than at Glasgow ; and it is even said, that either here or in the Western University, he had under his tuition the greater part of the presbyterian clergymen, afterwards settled in the west, south, and east parts of Scot- land, from 1640. He had also a principal share in the printed pamphlets betwixt the resolutioners and protesters, about the years 1650, and 1651. His own sentiments coincided with those of the resolutioners. Dickson continued at Edinburgh, dis- charging his duties with great diligence and fidelity, until the unhappy reintroduc- tion of episcopacy, upon the restoration of Charles II., when, for refusing the oath of supremacy, he and many others were turned out of their livings. From that period his constitution began to give way rapidly, induced by a depression of spirits, on ac- count of the sufferings which he saw were preparing for the church. Dickson was now encumbered with the cares of a family. He had married Mar- garet Robertson, daughter to Archibald Robertson of Stonehall, in the county of Lanark, by whom he had three sons; John, clerk to the exchequer court of Scotland ; Alexander, professor of Hebrew, in the college of Edinburgh ; and Archibald, who lived with his family afterwards in the parish of Irvine. In the month of Decem- ber, 1662, when on his death-bed, he was * Lectures on the Confession of Faith. visited by Mr Livingstone, on his way to his place of exile, to whom he said, in answer to an interrogatory upon the state of affairs: — “That he was sure Jesus Christ would not put up with the indigni- ties done to his work and people,” — and added, “ I have taken all my good deeds and all my bad deeds, and have cast them together in a heap before the Lord, and have fled from both to Jesus Christ, and in him I have sweet peace!” — Having been very low for some days, he called all his family together, and addressed each of them individually ; after which, having pronounced the apostolic blessing with great earnestness and solemnity, he lifted up his hands, closed his own eyes, and, without any struggle, or apparent pain, immediately expired in the arms of one of his sons. Like Jacob of old, he was gathered to his people in a good old age, being then upwards of 72 years. Many memorable things are recorded of this excellent man, who was ever on the alert to promote his Master’s work, whether “ in season or out of season,” — one or two of which we may perhaps be excused for mentioning in this narrative. Riding, upon one occasion, between Glasgow and Edinburgh, he was attacked by robbers, when, instead of giving place to fear for his personal safety, he, with the greatest self-command, addressed them re- garding their immortal souls ; and, it is said, was, under God, the happy instrument of their conversion. — Mr James Mitchell, a very serious Christian, near Irvine, also, when speaking of the eminent gift which Dickson possessed for spiritual conversa- tion, says of him : — “ I happened once to travel from Glasgow to Falkirk, in com- pany with Mr Dickson ; and having taken occasion, from the brightness of the day, to speak of the glories of heaven, he, after relating his own experiences, proceeded to show how men’s own righteousness is often LORD WARRISTON. 419 a bar in their way of believing the gospel of Christ, and to prove, from the first part of the epistle to the Romans, that nothing but justification, through the righteousness of Christ, was suited to our sinful and miserable state by nature, — that it was the only way to pacify our consciences and reconcile us to God, fill us with joy, pro- mote our true sanctification of nature and life, and make us triumph over the accu- sations of Satan and the fears of death — 0 how his discourse, especially as I caused him repeat it, penetrated into my heart!” His sermons were always replete with solid and edifying matter, very scriptural, and in a plain, homely style; bearing a strong resemblance to those of the cele- | brated Rutherford. It was said, that no minister of that day was so popular, ex- cept Mr William Guthrie, of Fenwick, who at least equalled Dickson, if he did not go beyond him. His works are numerous. The chief of i 1 these are, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews ; on the Gospel of Mat- thew ; on the Psalms of David ; on the Epistles, in Latin and English ; Prcdec- tiones in Confessionenn Fidei , or Truth’s Victory over Error; Therapeutica Sacra, or Cases of Conscience resolved, in Latin ; and a Treatise on the Promises. He wrote also some short poems on pious subjects, viz., The Christian Sacrifice, and True Christian Love, intended as an addi- tion to the Psalmody. Besides these he i left several other works in manuscript : — Tyrones concionaturi ; Summarium libri Isaiee ; Letters on the Resolutioners ; ] Replies to Messrs Gillespie and Guthrie ; Non-separation from the well affected in the Army; Sermons at Irvine upon 1 Tim. i. 5 ; Precepts for tne Daily Direction of \ a Christian, by way of Catechism ; with a Compend of his Sermons upon Jeremiah and the Lamentations ; and the first nine chapters to the Romans. | SIR ARCHIBALD JOHNSTON, LORD WARRISTON. 1 S Comparatively little is known of the early j history of very many of our most distin- guished reformers, until the strife of the times brought them into the arena of public contest; and so it is with the distinguished nobleman whose name we now introduce. The active part he took commenced about the beginning of the second Reformation, in 1638, when he and lord Balmerino were commissioned by the Covenanters, to I present to the king a petition which they themselves had drawn, in opposition to the hostile measures which the earl of Tra- quair was persuading his majesty to adopt. The prayer of the petition having been refused, Charles caused Traquair to publish a proclamation at Edinburgh and Stirling, against all their requisitions ; when John- ston — afterwards lord Warriston — pro- tested against their proceedings, in his own : name, and in those of sixteen noblemen, with a number of barons, private gentlemen, burgesses, and ministers. In the same ; year, the marquis of Hamilton published another declaration in the king’s name, which was followed by another protest in the same place, which Johnston handed to his majesty’s herald at the Cross of Edinburgh. Upon this occasion the earl ; of Cassilis stood forward in name of the nobility ; Gibson of Durie in that of the barons ; Fletcher provost of Dundee, ap- | SCOTS WORTHIES. Ir= i 420 | i peared for the burgesses ; and Kerr, min- j ister of Preston, for the church. John- | ston, to make the matter as secure and | public as possible, took instruments in the hands of three notaries. At the General Assembly, in the month of November of the same year, Johnston was unanimously elected clerk, in conside- ration of his former gratuitous services, I when, having taken the oath de fideli , he ! was admitted to all the rights, profits, and privileges, which that office had previously enjoyed. Having been thus installed, the moderator requested that all who had any Acts or books of former Assemblies, would put them into his hands ; upon which the !j former clerk handed in two, containing ! | Actsfrom 1592 to thatof Aberdeen, in 1618; jl and Johnston produced five, containing ! documents sufficient for drawing up a his- | tory of the church from the beginning of ! the Reformation, — a circumstance which was at that time greatly valued by the Assembly, and which has been the means of transmitting to posterity a faithful re- cord of the tyrannous proceedings of the government of the day. In the same ! Assembly he w^as appointed procurator for the church. To him was intrusted the j framing of all treaties and papers that i concerned the church ; and all printers I were prohibited from publishing the same, without a license under his hand. Enraged at these and other proceedings i of the Assembly, the king advanced with ! an army towards the borders ; and the Covenanters, not to be behind hand, did | the same. The result of this meeting has ! been already detailed in the life of the earl of Loudon.* To make amends for a slight, | Johnston was raised to knighthood, in I; the parliament of 1641, at the time when ! Argyle was appointed to the treasury, and i| Loudon to the office of chancellor. At || * See page 410. the same time he was nominated one of the lords of Session, with an annual pen- sion of £200. During this and the following year, lord | Warriston was appointed to several im- i portant offices. He was one of those se- I lected to watch over the articles of peace between the two kingdoms, until the meet- ing of parliament; besides being one of the commissioners sent to London to nego- tiate with the English parliament, for | sending assistance from Scotland to Ire- land, immediately after the unhappy re- bellion, in that country, which had shared in the general agitation. In 1643, the General Assembly having met at Edinburgh, they, upon the motion of lord Warriston, emitted the following declaration, joining with the English par- liament: — “ 1. They apprehended that the war was on account of religion. 2. That the protestant faith was in danger. 3. That gratitude for assistance, during the former Reformation, required a suitable return. 4. Because the churches of Scot- land and England being embarked in one cause, — if one should be worsted, the other could not prosper. 5. That the prospect of uniformity between the two kingdoms, in discipline and worship, would strengthen the protestant interest, both at home and abroad. 6. That the present parliament had been friendly to the Scots, and might be so again. 7. That though the king had so lately established religion among them, according to their desire, yet they could not confide in his royal declaration, having so often found his promises and performances completely at variance.” These declarations the estates held in good part, and suggested others as they saw it to be expedient. In pursuance of this, upon the arrival of commissioners from the parliament and j Assembly at Westminster, the General |i Assembly, by an Act of sederunt, commis- , sioned five ministers, and three ruling elders, to repair to the kingdom of England, among whom was lord Warris- ton. His lordship not only used all dili- gence as a member of the Westminster Assembly, for bringing about uniformity of religion in worship, discipline, and government ; but also sat, for some time, as a member of the English parliament, concerting such measures as might tend to establish a firm and lasting peace be- tween the two kingdoms. This, however, was afterwards brought against him as an act of high treason. In 1646, he was appointed lord-advocate of Scotland, with the direction of the com- mittee of London and Newcastle, and of the general officers in the army. He had been clerk to the General Assembly since 1638 ; but in 1650, when the Act of classes was repealed, and the malignants once more got into places of power and trust, lordWarriston took part with the protesters, and had a principal hand in managing their affairs. All his movements were now sedu- lously watched, and spies were set upon his actions wherever he went. A letter which he had written to an Assembly held at St Andrews, on the 18th of July, 1651, was | suppressed ; and though it was ascertained s to have been delivered into the hands of the moderator, and by him opened in order to its being read, yet it could never after- wards be obtained, though called for upon several occasions, and at several diets, j For upwards of five years lord Warris- i ton had now acted for the king’s interest, i and had both spoken and written against his countrymen taking office under the ! Usurper ; yet, from a want of self-com- | mand, he himself was induced to accept of i the office of clerk-register, under Crom- | well, — a step, however, which he continued | to regret till the day of his death. Wod- row relates, that at the meeting held in Edinburgh, which sent him to London, he opposed it with all his eloquence, acquaint- ing them with what was his weak side ; j i and that, through the easiness of his tem- per, he might not be able to resist impor- tunity — yet, after all, he was peremptorily | named. To account for his compliance, it may be observed : — His family was numerous ; considerable sums of money were owing him, which he had advanced for the public service, besides several years’ salary ; and thus, no other door being open for his relief, he might be the more easily flattered into acquiescence. It was remarked, how- ever, that he was generally sad and melan- choly afterward, and that his worldly af- fairs did not flourish so well as before. In 1660, Charles having been restored to his dominions while the marquis of Argyle was in prison, a royal mandate came down to apprehend Sir James Stuart, provost of Edinburgh, Sir Archibald John- ston of Warriston, and Sir John Chiesly of Carswell. Lord Warriston, however, escaped for a time, and therefore was sum- moned, by sound of trumpet, to surrender himself; and a proclamation was issued, offering £100 Scots for his person, dis- charging and prohibiting, at the same time, all persons from harbouring or concealing him, upon pain of treason. On the 10th of October following, he was declared a | fugitive by the council, and, on the 1st of February thereafter, an indictment was read against him, William Dundas, and John Hume, in their absence. Warris- j ton’s estate was therefore declared to be forfeited, and public proclamation of the same was made at the Cross of Edinburgh. The principal counts in his indictment were: — “ His pleading against Newton Gordon, when he had the king’s express orders to plead for him, — assisting in the Act of the West Kirk, — drawing out, contriving, or j consenting to, the paper called the Western I Remonstrance, and the book called Causes 422 SCOTS WORTHIES. of God’s Wrath, — sitting in parliament as a peer in England, contrary to his oath, — | accepting the office of clerk-register from j the Usurper, — and, being president of the i committee of safety when Richard Crom- ! well was laid aside.” “ None of all these, however,” says Wodrow, “were the real causes of this good man’s sufferings. A personal pre- 1 1 judice and pique were at the bottom of all j | these bitter proceedings ; for, the goodly i freedom he took, in reproving vice, was ! ! what could never be forgotten or forgiven. | I have an account of the holy freedom j lord Warriston used, from a reverend | minister who was his chaplain at that time, ! and took liberty to advise Warriston not to adventure upon it: yet this excellent person, having the glory of God and the honour of religion more in his eyes than his own safety, went on in his designed re- proof, and could not, for a compliment, quit the peace he expected in his own j conscience, be the event what it would, by ! disburdening himself. He got a great many fair words, and it was pretended to be taken well from my lord register ; but, as he was told by his wellwishers, it was ! never forgot.” In the matter of compliance with Crom- I well, lord Warriston was not alone, — the I greater part of the nation being involved ! | as well as himself. Many who had held | ! office under Cromwell had been discharged j by the court ; but it was reserved for him | and the marquis of Argyle, — stern re- provers of vice, and uncompromising friends I of Presbytery, — to seal the testimony of Jesus with their blood. After sentence of forfeiture and death had been passed against him, he went abroad, to escape the persecution of his enemies ; but their malice pursued him ; for, having been taken ill at Hamburgh, it was said that Dr Bates, one of king Charles’ physicians, administered poison to him, and took from him about sixty ounces of blood, with the intention of finishing his existence. The excellence of his constitu- ! tion, however, triumphed over the murder- ous attempt; but his memory was ever after so much impaired, that he could not remember what he had either said or done, I above the short space of a quarter of an hour. His recovery, however, only whetted the appetite of his bloodthirsty enemies ; for they caught him soon after, at Roanne, in France, whither he had gone unad- visedly. He was taken when engaged in prayer, by a person called Murray, whom the government had despatched in quest of him. In January, 1663, he was brought over prisoner, and committed to the Tower j of London, where he was detained till the month of June, when he was sent down to Edinburgh to be executed. During his passage, his conduct was truly Christian ; but his nephew, bishop Burnet, says, “ he was so disordered both in body and mind, that it was a reproach to any government to proceed against him.” The vessel ar- rived at Leith on the 8th of that month, and he was brought, from the tolbooth of Edinburgh, before the parliament, on the 8th of July. While at the bar of the house, he dis- covered such weakness of memory and judgment, that all pitied him, with the exception of Sharp and the other bishops. Many of the members would have spared his life ; but Lauderdale stirred up the house to get rid of him, by delivering a vehement speech, urging his speedy exe- cution. Sentence was accordingly pro- 1 nounced : — “ That he be hanged at the Cross of Edinburgh, on the 22d of July, and his head placed on the Nether Bow, beside that of Guthrie.” Warriston heard his sentence with meekness and composure ; and, in return for the cruelty of his enemies, prayed that, whatever might befall himself, his best blessings might be on church and state, and on his majesty — and that God would give him honest and faithful counsellors. During the whole of his imprisonment, his mind was in a tender and spiritual j frame ; and the nearer his death ap- ; proached, his composure became the more j conspicuous. The night previous to his | execution he slept soundly, and in the ! morning he was full of consolation, express- I ing his assurance of being clothed in a I long white robe, and of having put into his mouth a new song in praise of God and of the Lamb. Before noon he dined cheerfully, enraptured at the thought of being so near the end of his journey. After having spent some time in secret prayer, he was taken from prison about two o’clock, attended by several of his friends in mourning, although he himself was full of holy cheerfulness and courage, and in perfect serenity of mind. As he drew near the scaffold, he called repeatedly to the people, “Your prayers, your prayers !” and having set foot on it, he said: — “ I entreat you, quiet yourselves a little, till this dying man deliver his last speech among you !” He then begged of them not to be offended at his reading what he had to say; for his memory had almost entirely failed, in consequence of long sickness, and bad treatment from his physicians ; after which he read his speech, first on one side of the scaffold, and then on the other; premising, that what he had intended to speak was not now in his power, as it had been taken from him ; but hoping that the Lord would preserve it to be his Testimony. After he had finished his solemn and affecting address, he prayed with great fervour and enlargement of soul; and, being as it were in an ecstasy, he began thus: — “Abba, Father! Accept this thy poor sinful servant, coming unto thee through the merits of Jesus Christ!” Having taken leave of his friends, he prayed again; after which he was assisted in ascending the ladder; calling aloud, at the same time: — “Your prayers, your prayers! Your prayers I desire in the name of the Lord !” After he had reached the top of the steps, he cried again in a loud voice : — “ I beseech you all who are the people of God, not to scare at suffering for the interest of Christ, or stumble at anything of this kind falling out in these days, but be encouraged to suffer for him ; for, I assure you, in the name of the Lord, he will bear your charges.” While the execu - tioner was adjusting the rope upon his j neck, he repeated the same words, adding: — “ The Lord hath graciously comforted ! me !” and when the same functionary asked his forgiveness, he said : — “ The Lord for- | give thee, poor man !” and at the same time gave him some money, desiring him to do his duty, if he was ready; crying out: j — “ O pray, pray ! Praise, praise, praise !” ! With these words he was thrown off, and died almost without a struggle, with his hands upraised towards heaven whither his soul ascended, to enjoy the beatific presence of his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. After having hung for a little, he was taken down, and his head having been struck off, it was placed beside that of his dear friend and fellow-martyr, Mr James Guthrie. Soon after, however, through the intercession of lieutenant-general Drum- ] mond, his son-in-law, it was taken down and interred with his body. Thus lived and died the eminently pious and learned lord Warriston, whose talents as an orator, both in the senate and on the bench, are too well known to require any encomium here. Prayer was his delight ; and in that exercise he enjoyed sweet fel- lowship and communion with his God and Saviour. It was a frequent saying of his : — “ I dare never question my salvation, — 424 SCOTS WORTHIES. I have so often seen God’s face in the house of prayer !” One of his biographers says concerning him : — “ Although his memory and talents were for some time impaired ; yet, like the sun at his setting, after having been for a while under a cloud, he shone forth most brightly and | surprisingly, and so, in some measure, the more sweetly ; for, on the morning of his martyrdom, he was under an effusion of the Spirit, as great, perhaps, as many since the days of the Apostles.” He was in the habit of keeping a regular diary, which is said to be still in the possession of his relations, in which is contained a valuable treasure, not only of Christian experience, but also of the political transactions of the times. In it he records his sure hope, that the church of Scotland would, after a series of sharp visitations, be at length delivered from all her sufferings. TESTIMONY OF LORD WARRISTON. His Speech on the Scaffold. “ Right honourable, much honoured, and beloved auditors and spectators, — that which I intended and prepared to speak at this time, and in this condition, immediately before my death, is not at i present in my power, having been taken j from me : but I hope the Lord shall pre- ; serve it to bear my testimony more fully and clearly, than now I can in this con- i dition, having my memory much destroyed, through much sore and long sickness, melancholy, and excessive drawing of my blood ; though I bless the Lord my God, j that notwithstanding the forementioned distempers, I am in some capacity to leave this short and weak testimonj^. “ 1st, I desire in the first place to con- fess my sins, so far as is proper in this place and case, and to acknowledge God’s mercies ; and to express my repentance of j the one, and my faith of the other, through the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ our gracious Redeemer and Mediator. I con- fess that my natural temper has been sub- ject to many excesses of heat, and thereby to some precipitations, which hath no doubt offended standers-by and lookers-on, and hath exposed both me, and the work, to their mistakes. I must withal confess, that it doth not a little trouble me, and lie heavy upon my spirit, and will bring me down with sorrow to the grave (though I was not alone in this offence, but had the body of the nation going before me, and j the example of persons of all ranks to in- i snare me), that I suffered myself through J the power of temptations, and the too much fear anent the straits that my nu- merous family might be brought into, to be carried unto so great a length of compli- ance in England with the late Usurper, which did much grieve the hearts of the godly, and made these that sought God ashamed and confounded for my sake, and did give no small occasion to the adver- sary to reproach and blaspheme, and did withal not a little obscure and darken the beauty of several former actings about his blessed and glorious work of reformation, happily begun, and far advanced in these lands, wherein he was graciously pleased to employ, and by employing, to honour me to be an instrument (though the least and unworthiest of many), whereof I am not ashamed this day, but account it my glory, I however that work be now cried down, j opposed, laid in the dust, and trode upon. And my turning aside to comply with these men, was the more aggravated in my per- son, that I had so frequently and seriously i j made profession of my averseness from, and j abhorrence of, that way, and had shown j \ much dissatisfaction with these that had ! LORD WARRISTON. not gone so great a length ; for which, as I seek God’s mercy in Christ Jesus, so I desire that all the Lord’s people, from my example, may he more stirred up to watch and pray, that they enter not into temptation. “ 2d. I am pressed in conscience to leave here at my death, my true and honest testimony in the sight of God and man, to ! and for 4 the National Covenant; the Solemn League and Covenant; the solemn acknow- ledgment of our sins,’ and 4 engagement to our duties ;’ to all the 4 grounds and causes of fasts’ and humiliations, and of the 4 Lord’s displeasure’ and contending with the land ; and to the several 4 testimonies’ given to his interests, by General Assemblies, commissions of the kirk, presbyteries, and by other honest and faithful ministers and professors. 44 3d. I am also pressed to encourage his doing, suffering, witnessing people, and sympathizing ones with these that suffer, that they would continue in the duties of witnessing, mourning, praying, and sym- pathizing with these that suffer, and hum- bly to assure them in the name of the Lord our God, the God of his own word and work, of his own cause, covenant, and people, that he will be seen, found, and felt, in his own gracious way and time, by his own means and instruments, for his | own glory and honour, to return to his ! own truths, and interests, and servants, and j revive his name, his covenant, his word, | his work, his sanctuary, and his saints in j these nations, even in the three covenanted j nations which were by so solemn bonds, covenants, subscriptions, and oaths, given away and devoted unto himself. 44 4th. I dare not conceal from you that are friendly to all the Lord’s interests, that the Lord (to the commendation of his grace, be it humbly spoken) hath several times, in the exercise of my repentance and faith during my trouble, and after groans and tears upon these three notable chapters, viz., the 9th of Ezra, the 9th of Nehemiah, and the 9th of Daniel, with j other such suitable scriptures, and in the I very nick of fervent and humble supplica- tion to him, for the reviving again of his , name, cause, covenant, word, and work of reformation, in these covenanted nations, and particularly in poor Scotland, which i first solemnly engaged to him, to the good example and encouragement of his people, I in the other two nations, to do the same also, that the Lord, I say, hath several | times given to me good ground of hope ; j and lively expectations of his merciful, gracious, powerful, and wonderful renew- ] j ing and reviving again of his forementioned I ! great interests in these covenanted nations : ! i and that in such a way, by such means and ' \ instruments, with such antecedents, con- j currents, consequents, and effects, as shall wonderfully rejoice his mourning friends, | and astonish his contradicting and counter- acting enemies. 44 5th. I do earnestly beg the fervent prayers of all his praying people, servants, and instruments, whether absent or pre- | sent, wherever they be, in behalf of his j name, cause, and covenant- work, and peo- | ! pie; and in behalf of my wife, children, j and their posterity: and that the Lord ! would glorify himself, edify his church, j encourage his saints, further his work, accomplish his good word, by all his doings i and dealings, in substance and circum- stance toward all his own. 44 6th. Whereas I have heard, that some of my unfriends have slandered and de- j famed my name, as if I had been accessary to his late majesty’s death, and to the |j making of the change of government there- ; upon ; the great God of heaven be witness | and judge between me and my accusers in this ; for I am free (as I shall now answer ! j before his tribunal) from any accession, by I counsel or contrivance, or any other way, 1 426 SCOTS WORTHIES. to his late majesty’s death, or to their making that change of government : and I pray the Lord to preserve our present king his majesty, and to pour out his best bless- ings upon his royal posterity, and to give unto them good and faithful counsellors, holy and wise counsels, and prosperous successes, to God’s glory, and to the good and interest of his people, and to their own honour and happiness.” JAMES WOOD. There seems to be nothing on record concerning this bright star of Presbytery, previous to the year 1651 ; soon after which, however, we find that he was made principal of the college of St Salvador and St Leonard, at St Andrews, and also one of the ministers of the city. As Wood favoured the views of the resolutioners, there was unfortunately some difference between him and Mr Samuel Rutherford, at that time professor of theology in the new college ; yet the latter had a very high esteem for him, as appears from a message he sent to Wood, when on his deathbed: “ Tell Mr James Wood from me, I heartily forgive him all the wrongs he hath done, and desire him from me to declare himself the man he still is for the church of Scot- land.” Rutherford was not disappointed m him ; for nothing could ever prevail upon him to comply with the tenets of episcopacy. On the contrary, he was I grieved to the heart when he saw the j apostasy and treachery of some of his acquaintances, with whom he had formerly taken sweet counsel ; particularly that of the notorious Sharp, whom he styled Judas, Demas, and Gehazi. The following anecdote is characteristic. Wood having come to Edinburgh to visit his brother-in-law, Mr John Carstairs, who was in prison at the time, expressed a strong desire to get his eye upon Sharp. For this purpose he went, with a friend, to the shop of a Mr Glen, where it was understood that Sharp would alight from his coach. Wood was not disappointed. In a short time commissioner Middleton’s coach came up, in which was the arch- bishop, who, stepping out first, turned round and uncovered to receive Middleton; by which means Wood’s curiosity was fully gratified. Eying him very narrowly, W ood burst forth with strong emotion : — “ O thou Judas, apostate traitor, that hast betrayed the famous presbyterian church of Scot- land to its utter ruin, as far as thou canst, — if I know anything of the mind of God, thou shalt not die the ordinary and com- mon death of men !” And so it happened, about eighteen years after. Wood continued in the undisturbed en- joyment of his principality, until 1663, when Sharp, unable to brook the idea of such a zealous friend of Presbytery being any longer so near him, caused him to be cited to appear before the council, to answer to certain charges alleged to have been brought against him. On compearing, he was interrogated how he came to be pro- vost of the college of St Andrews ; and, when about to reply, he was interrupted in an abrupt manner, and ordered to answer in a word. Regardless of such ungentleman- like conduct, he told them very coolly, that he had been invited by the faculty of the college, at the recommendation of Cromwell, “ as some present very well knew,” alluding JAMES WOOD. 427 to Sharp. This was quite enough, — he was immediately commanded to retire ; but a short time only elapsed, when he was re- called, and told : — “ That the lords of coun- cil, for the present, declared the said place to be vacant, and ordained and commanded him to confine himself within the city of Edinburgh, and not to depart thence till further orders.” Wood merely replied, that he was sorry they had condemned him, without having been heard in his own defence, as he had not been guilty of any breach of law. This was Sharp Justice with a vengeance, — and in September fol- lowing the miscreant took the office, with all its emoluments, into his own hands. Upon the 30th of the same month, Wood presented a petition to the council, stating that his father was dangerously ill ; that particular business required his immediate presence at St Andrews ; and praying for permission to visit his father. The prayer of the petition was accordingly granted; with certification, however, that he should always return when called by the council. About the beginning of the year 1664, his mortal career began to draw toward a close, and Sharp judged that a proper opportunity to injure his reputation among the presbyterians. Sharp visited him twice upon his deathbed, when he was very low; and although Wood spoke very little to his visitor, and not a word about the state of public affairs, yet Sharp im- mediately spread a rumour : — “ That Mr Wood, being now under views of death and eternity, had professed himself very indifferent as to church-government, de- claring the government of the church by Presbytery to be alterable at the pleasure of the magistrate.” This impudent false- hood Sharp had even the audacity to lay before the court in writing. The report of this having reached Wood, he considered it fortunate that it had taken place before his death, having still an opportunity to give it the lie, as will be seen in his Testi- mony subjoined, which he himself dictated and subscribed, on the 2d of March, in presence of two witnesses and a public notary. This testimony was afterwards burnt by order of the High Commission. This unfortunate circumstance added much grief to all his other sorrows ; but he could ' enjoy no peace of mind till he had vindi- cated himself from the foul calumny. Being asked whether he called church- government a nicety, and, if he lived, he would abstract more from such niceties, he answered, “ Fie, fie, never such a thing! I did indeed, that the bishop might not think that I was pursuing that controversy against them, say, I had a great business to think upon my salvation and peace with God at the stake ; but I did not say, nor think, that presbyterian government was a nicety. I judge it to be a truth of God, an ordinance of Jesus Christ, a part of his visible kingdom, for which every Christian, as called to it, should suffer even unto death ; and I would exhort them to it ; for it is but little that we have suffered yet, and, if I were to live, I would, through the grace and power of God, account it my glory to lay down my life in defence of that truth. There is no man in the world that has more and stronger obligations on him, to stand to the maintenance of that government than I, wherein the Lord hath cleared me with a strong hand. I bless the Lord that hath made me under- stand the nature of his covenant, and gave me light in the point of justification, and j helped me in some measure to hold out light therein to others, and cleared me in the controversy with the Independents, and this anent prelacy.” He said, “he had said before, and said so still, that if ever he should come to be against presbyterian government, he might fear to meet God’s everlasting wrath, and be made a spectacle j to others.” He said further, with much j SCOTS WORTHIES. ! 428 grave confidence, “ God will give an out- gate (meaning of the prelates), though they will say, it is impossible — and how T should it come ? — he can hiss for the bees, as beyond the river.” Having thus given publicity to his sen- timents, he afterwards enjoyed great calm- ness and serenity of mind, frequently set- j ting forth his sweet experiences, and the | assurance he had of a blessed entrance j being administered to him into Christ’s kingdom in glory, which he obtained on the 15th of the same month. Wood was among the brightest lights of the period in which he lived. He had, in a former part of his life, been colleague to Sharp ; and, after the Restoration, he lamented much that he had been so long deceived by that ambitious man. It ! was also reported, that he greatly regretted ! his having taken part with the resolu- tioners. Wodrow says that he left behind him a finished treatise, in manuscript, refuting the dogmas of Arminianism; and it is also known that he triumphantly asserted pres- byterial government in opposition to the Independents. He has several other small works in print; but they are beginning now to get scarce. TESTIMONY OF JAMES WOOD. “ I James Wood, being very shortly, by appearance, to render up my spirit to the Lord, find myself obliged to leave a word behind me, for my vindication before the world. It hath been said of me, that I have, in word at least, departed from my wonted zeal for the presbyterian govern- ment, expressing myself, concerning it, as if it were a matter not to be accounted of, and that no man should trouble himself therefore, in matter of practice. Surely any Christian that knows me in this kirk will judge that this is a wrong done to me. It is true, that I being under sickness have said sometimes, in conference about my soul’s state, that I was taken up about greater business than anything of that kind ; and what wonder I said so, being under such wrestling anent my interest in Jesus Christ, which is a matter of far greater concernment than any external ordinance ? But for my estimation of presbyterian government, the Lord know- eth, that since the day he convinced my heart, which was by a strong hand, that it is the ordinance of God, appointed by Jesus Christ, for governing and ordering his visible church, I never had the least change of thought concerning the necessity of it, nor of the necessity of the use of it. And I declare, before God and the world, that I still account so of it; and that, however there may be some more precious ordinances, that is so precious, that a true Christian is obliged to lay down his life for the profession thereof, if the Lord shall see meet to put him to trial; and for myself, if I were to five, I would account it my glory to seal this word of my testi- mony with my blood. Of this declaration I take God, angels, and men, to be my witnesses ; and have subscribed these pre- sents, at St Andrews, on the 2d of March, 1664, about seven hours in the afternoon, before Mr William Tullidaff, minister at Dunbog, Mr John Carstairs, my brother- in-law, and John Pitcairn, writer hereof. “JAMES WOOD.” William Tullidaff, x John Carstairs, > Witnesses. JonN Pitcairn, j WILLIAM GUTHRIE. 429 GUTHRIE. WILLIAM This studious, learned, and justly cele- brated servant of Christ, was born at Pit- frothy, in the county of Angus, in 1620. His father was proprietor of that estate, and a branch of the ancient family of Guthrie ; and his mother was a daughter of the house of Easter Ogle. There were four sons besides himself, all of whom were ministers of the gospel ; and all were emi- nent for their piety, and attachment to the cause of Presbytery. The subject of this memoir gave early indications of an apt genius, by the progress he made in the Latin and Greek languages, which he studied at the university of St Andrews. He completed his course of philosophy under his uncle, Mr James Guthrie, afterwards minister of Stirling, whose life we have already recorded. At college, Guthrie lodged in the same room i with his uncle, and therefore enjoyed ad- vantages superior to those of his class- ! fellows. His theology was studied under the direction of Mr Samuel Rutherford. “ Then and there,” says Mr Traill, “ it pleased the Lord to call him by his grace, by the ministry of that excellent person. His conversion was begun with great terror of God in his soul, and completed with that joy and peace in believing which accompanied him through life. It was ! after this blessed change that he resolved | to obey the call of God to serve him in : the ministry of his gospel, which was thus | given him by the Lord’s calling him ef- | fectually to grace and glory. With this view he so disposed of his paternal estate, as not to be entangled with the affairs of the world, by making it over to the only brother, who had not* been appointed to the cure of any particular parish.” Soon after having obtained his license, Guthrie left St Andrews, and became tutor to lord Mauchlin, eldest son to the earl of Loudon, in which situation he remained until appointed pastor to the parish of Fenwick, which at that time was disjoined from Kilmarnock. Having been appointed to preach at Galston, on a day preparatory to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, and a number of persons belonging to the newly erected parish being present, they were so much captivated by his discourses, that they immediately resolved to call him to be their pastor, which being very har- monious, he felt it to be his duty to accept. It is said that he, along with the people, made choice of the spot of ground on which the church was to be built, and that he preached within the walls before the edifice was completely finished. Many were the difficulties and discour- agements he had to encounter at the out- set ; yet through the divine blessing upon his labours, he w r as eminently successful in reforming the manners of the people. Many of them, indeed, were so uncon- cerned about religion as never to enter a place of worship; and the face of their pastor was altogether unknown by them. Numbers even refused his visits, and would not suffer him to enter their houses. Such was the state of Fenwick at the time this pious man entered upon his ministerial duties among them. But things did not remain long in that state ; for, he had a happy art of winning souls to the Saviour. Disguised in the habit of a traveller, he frequently called at their houses in the j evening, and asked lodgings, which he did j not even obtain without much entreaty ; j but, when once admitted, he made himself 1 430 SCOTS WORTHIES. a very agreeable guest, by his amusing and instructive conversation. One question always was, — how did they like their min- ister ? — and when told that they did not go to church, he pressed them to go, and hear what he had to say. To some he even gave small sums of money to visit the | house of God ; and, before retiring to rest for j the night, he was always solicitous to know if family worship was observed by them. Upon one occasion, in a family where the duty had never been performed, he urged the goodman of the house to make the attempt; and, as this person’s only objection was, that he could not pray, that he had never been in the habit of praying, and therefore could not, Guthrie was so very earnest in his entreaties to make trial, that the man cried out : — “ O Lord, thou know- est that this man would have me to pray ; j but thou knowest I cannot pray !” This was sufficient, — Guthrie desired him to stop, saying, he had done enough, and im- mediately began himself, to the great wonder and edification of the family, j When prayer was over, the mistress of the house said to her husband — “ Surely this man must be a minister!” The people were overawed, and felt as if a charm had come over them. It was no difficult matter, under such feelings, to gain their compliance to appear in church on the following Sabbath. But, what was their surprise, when they saw that it was the minister himself who had been their guest, and who, in the guise of an humble peasant, upon their own hearth, had supplicated for them so many blessings. Within his parish, too, there was a per- son who, instead of going to church on the Lord’s day, betook himself to the fields with his dog and gun. Guthrie was determined j to reclaim this man, and the effort was j blessed. The minister asked him what reason he had for desecrating the sabbath ; ! and the answer he received was, that it was the most fortunate day in the week for that exercise. Guthrie asked him how 1 much he could make by it ; and, upon being told that he could at least realize half a crown, the good pastor at once told him j that he would pay him that sum, if he would appear in church next Sabbath. After the congregation was dismissed, Guthrie told him that he would renew the bargain, if he would appear again, which the man consented to do. From that time ! afterward, he never failed to give regular attendance in the house of God ; and, re- j lieving the minister from his obligation, he felt to his sweet experience that godliness was of itself great gain. This man, ere long, became a member of the kirk-session, j and ever after continued to live a godly ! and useful life. Guthrie himself was fond of rural re- creation, and took particular pleasure in angling, fowling, and curling. In these exercises he mingled much with his parishioners, which he always improved as seasons of religious instruction, in such a way, as never to give offence. “ But,” says a celebrated biographer, “ as he was animated by a flaming zeal for the glory of his blessed Master, and a tender com- passion for the souls of men ; and as it was the principal thing that made him desire life and health, that he might employ them in propagating the kingdom of God, and in turning transgressors from their ways ; so the very hours of recreation were dedi- cated to this purpose, which were so en- deared to him, that he knew how to make his diversions subservient to the noble ends of his ministry. He made them the occa- sion of familiarizing his people to him, and j introducing himself to their affections ; and, | in Ihe guise of a sportsman, he gained some j to a rehgious life, whom he could have had little influence upon in a minister’s dress, — of which there happened some memo- rable examples.” WILLIAM GUTHRIE. 431 After having been ordained for about a year, he married Agnes Campbell, daughter of David Campbell of Skeldon, in Ayrshire, | a remote branch of the family of Loudon, I by whom he had six children. Only two daughters outlived himself. Mrs Guthrie was a lady of the most amiable qualities, who proved a very agreeable companion and comforter to her husband, for upwards of twenty years, — one faith, one hope, one baptism, and a supreme love to Jesus Christ, actuated both during the whole period of their union. Not long after his marriage, Guthrie was appointed by the General Assembly I to accompany the army, in the capacity of ! chaplain ; but just as he was preparing to set out, he had a violent attack of gravel, j to which he was occasionally subject. His amiable wife felt uneasy at the thought of | his absence, and would have dissuaded him j from compliance ; but in this sudden chas- tisement she evidently saw the hand of the Lord, which made her resolve never again to interpose her will, when the service of his divine Master demanded her husband’s acquiescence. In this campaign, upon the | defeat of the party to which he was at- tached, he had a very narrow escape, — a circumstance, of which he ever after re- tained the most grateful remembrance. He was with the army again, at the time when the Usurper’s forces were victorious | at Dunbar, on the 3d of September, 1650. j [Battle of Dunbar, September, 1650. J j Rutherford, upon that occasion, dissuaded him strongly from taking part with Crom- | well, saying:— “ that his heart trembled to entertain the least thought of joining with these deceivers.” Guthrie accordingly j joined the remonstrants, and was chosen Moderator of that Synod at Edinburgh, after the public resolutioners had left them. Such was Guthrie’s pleasant and cheer- ful talent for conversation, that he was universally respected by the English officers, j who all eagerly sought his acquaintance ; but, although he indulged for a time, in harm- 432 SCOTS WORTHIES. less mirth, his courage and constancy in the service of his Great Master never for a moment forsook him. Upon all occasions he found himself able to repress the extra- vagancies of the English sectarians, and to curb that spirit of licentiousness, which, as the dominant party, they thought them- selves entitled to indulge ; a very remark- able instance of which took place at a communion, in Glasgow, celebrated by the Rev. Andrew Gray. — Several of the English officers had formed a design to put in exe- cution the disorderly practice of promiscu- ous admission to the Lord’s table, without previous information to the minister, and satisfying him as to their being worthy of the privilege. A rush was accordingly made by these gentlemen to occupy the seats ; but, it being Guthrie’s turn to dis- j pense the elements, he, in the name of the Lord Jesus, addressed them as they were leaving the pews, with such solemn dignity and awe, that they were all confounded, and resumed their places without any further disturbance. About the same time, while he was absent in Angus for a few weeks upon some private business, the Quakers took advantage of the occasion, and endeavoured to effect a settlement in his parish ; but he returned to Fenwick before the infection had taken deep root, and recovered those who were in the greatest danger of being seduced.* He had many calls to other parishes about this time, but no solicita- tions could induce him to leave Fenwick. He was fond of the retirement and re- creations of a rural life ; he loved his * These “ Friends,’* as they call themselves, had made a number of proselytes in Glasgow, Kilbride, and other parishes in Lanarkshire ; but especially in the parish of Glassford, where they had pros- pered so well, that there is still pointed out there a cemetery, where they buried their own dead, with their heads to the east, contrary to the prac- tice of all other Christians. people, and he was loved by them in return; he had been honoured in bringing many among them into the kingdom of Christ, whose heavenly birth was the highest pleasure and brightest triumph of his life ; and therefore he preferred the comparative obscurity of Fenwick to the most con- siderable localities in the nation; having no views to temporal aggrandizement. In the year 1657, some person having got possession of a few stray notes of some sermons he had delivered from the 55th chapter of Isaiah, regarding the duty of personal covenanting; and having pub- lished these without his knowledge, under the title of “ A clear, attractive, warning Beam of Light, from Christ the Sun of Light, leading unto himself,” he was much dissatis- fied, and therefore thought the only way to remedy the defect, and save his reputation, would be to revise the whole of these dis- courses. It was this circumstance that gave rise to that admirable treatise, “The Chris- tian’s Great Interest, ’’which has been blessed to the souls of thousands. Guthrie was equally displeased at the title of the surrepti- tious work, and at the very imperfect and injudicious manner in which it had been got up ; for, although it was published anony- mously, he was the reputed author of it. Dr Owen is reported to have said, upon one occasion, of “ The Christian’s Great Interest,” when addressing himself to a minister of the church of Scotland : — “You have truly men of great spirits in Scotland, — there is, for a gentleman, Mr Baillie of Jerviswood, a person of the greatest abilities I almost ever met with ; and, for a divine — taking out of his pocket a small gilt copy of Guthrie’s treatise — that author I take to be one of the greatest divines that ever wrote. It is my vade mecum; I carry it and the Sedan New Testament still about with me. I have written several folios ; but there is more divinity in it than in them all.” It was translated into Low WILLIAM GUTHRIE. I Dutch, and was so highly valued in Hol- j land, that Mrs Guthrie and one of her I daughters met with very marked attention in that country on its account, upon their relationship to the author being made known. It was also translated into French and High Dutch, and into one of the Eastern languages, at the charge of the honourable Robert Boyle, a very dis- ! tinguished patron of religion, learning, and | Christian beneficence. At the synod of Glasgow, in April 1661 , after long debating about proper measures for the security of Presbytery, the matter being referred to a committee, Guthrie produced the draught of an address to parliament, in which a faithful testimony was given to the purity of our Reformation, in worship, doctrine, discipline, and govern- ment, in terms remarkable both for their I prudence and courage, which was approved, | and transmitted to the synod. Some, j however, of the resolution party, judging it inexpedient, afforded an opportunity of I delay to those who intended to comply with episcopacy; and thus for the time got it suppressed. About this time also, being the last time he was in company with his cousin, James Guthrie, he was observed to be rather ntelancholy, — when his friend, in order to rouse him, said : — “ A penny for your thought, cousin !” — “ There is a poor man at the door, give him a penny;” which having done, he replied : — “ I’ll tell you, cousin, what I am not only thinking of ; but, what I am sure of, if I be not under a delusion. The malignants will be your death, and this gravel will be mine ; but you will have the advantage of me. You will die honourably before many witnesses, with a rope about your neck, and I will die whining upon a pickle straw ; and will suffer more pain before I rise from your table, than all the pain you will have in your death.” 433 !| — This was within a very short time of his cousin’s death, who had been condemned to die on the first of June following, which public exhibition of suffering Guthrie had determined to visit, and would certainly have been present at, had not the kirk-session, by their earnest entreaties, prevailed upon him not to expose himself unnecessarily to the vengeance of his enemies. Guthrie, by the will of God, was permitted to remain in his charge, nearly four years longer than this, through the instrumentality of the earl of Eglinton, and chancellor Glencairn, who were unremitting in their intercessions for him ; for he had been long marked out by the government as one who had been a sharper thorn in their side than many others. Very many of his brethren had been ejected by this time, and, therefore vast crowds of people assembled at Fen- wick every sabbath-day, from parishes at a great distance, that they might hear the words of everlasting truth ; but particularly upon sacramental occasions. At these I solemnities, so vast was the concourse, that communicants had to show their tokens to the door-keepers, before they could procure admission. That period was the most distinguished, during the whole of his ministry, for re- markable outpourings of the Spirit, — great numbers having been converted to the ; truth, and all edified and built up in their ; most holy faith. He was at that time signally honoured to be an instrument of ! turning many to a religious life, who had ; previously been dissolute profaners of God’s holy name and ordinances ; who, after his being taken from them, could never, with- out exultation of soul, and emotions of revived affection, think of their spiritual father, and the power of that victorious grace, which, in those days, triumphed so gloriously. For many years after, the people of Fenwick were regarded as more [ civilized and religious than those of most other parishes, — their spiritual pastor hav- ing fortified them so strongly in a zealous adherence to the purity of the Reformation, and warned them so faithfully of the de- fections that had taken place through the introduction of episcopacy, that none of them, even after his departure, ever yielded compliance. And, it is not unworthy of our notice here, that the pious people in those districts were among the chief suf- ferers in the persecution which immediately followed. No part of Scotland was more distinguished for steadfast adherence to the cause of God and truth ; and, it is not perhaps too much to say, that the effects of Guthrie’s ministry may be traced among these people, even at the present day. If anywhere in Scotland, it is in that district that samples may yet be found of what Presbyterians were in the days of Claver- house and the Covenant. Guthrie’s extraordinary usefulness and popularity had now so much enraged the bishops against him, that the archbishop of Glasgow, in reply to the earl of Glen- cairn — soliciting that Guthrie might be overlooked in the general persecution — said : — “ That shall not be, — it cannot be, — he is a ringleader and keeper up of schism, in my diocese !” — In consequence of this resolution, Guthrie was suspended from his office; but such was the awe upon the minds of the curates, for fear of med- dling with that great and good man, that it was with difficulty one could be found to intimate the sentence of suspension. The curate of Cadder, however, was at length induced to undertake the commis- sion, for the paltry promise of a reward of five pounds. Guthrie having got previous notice of what was going on, earnestly entreated his friends to offer no resistance to his deposition, assured that his enemies would make that a handle against him, to prosecute him continually for his former zeal and fidelity. Accordingly, Wednesday, July 20, was set apart as a day of solemn fasting and prayer; on which occasion Guthrie preached to the people from Hosea xiii. 9 : — “ O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself ; but in me is thine help !” From that text he laid before them, with great plainness and affection, their own sins, and the sins of the land and age ; and at the close of the sermon, intimated that he would meet with them again on the Sabbath following at an early hour. Between four and five in the morning the church was crowded to ex- cess, when he addressed the congregation from the last clause of the verse, already mentioned : — “ But in me is thine help.” Upon this heart-rending occasion, he di- rected his audience to the Great Foun- tain of help, when the gospel and gospel ministers should be taken from them, and took his leave by commending them to God, who was able to build them up, and help them in every time of need. Upon* the day appointed, the curate of Cadder came to Fenwick with a party of twelve soldiers, and, by commission from the archbishop of Glasgow, discharged Guthrie from preaching any more in Fen- wick; declared the church vacant, and suspended him from the exercise of his ministry. Having left his party without, the curate then stepped into the manse, and told Guthrie, that the bishop and committee, after much lenity shown towards him, had been constrained to pass the sentence of suspension, because he would not meet with his brethren in presbyteries and synods, and for his turbulence in the church; of which sentence he had been appointed to make public intimation, which he then did, by reading the commission under the hand of the archbishop of Glasgow. To all this Guthrie replied : — “ I judge it not expedient to say much in answer to WILLIAM GUTHRIE. 435 what you have spoken ; only, whereas you allege there has been much lenity shown towards me — be it known unto you that I take the Lord for party in that, and thank Him first. I look upon it as a door which God opened to me for preaching his gospel, which neither you nor any other man was able to shut, until it was given you of God. As to this sentence passed against me, I declare before these gentlemen — pointing to the officers of the party — that I lay no weight upon it, as it comes from you, or those that sent you ; although I respect the civil authority, who, by their law, laid the ground of the sentence against me. I declare I will not cease from the exercise of my ministry for all that sentence. As to the crimes with which I am charged, — I did keep presbyteries and synods with the rest of my brethren ; but I do not look upon those who now sit in these courts as my brethren, who have fallen from the truth and cause of God ; neither do I judge those to be free and lawful courts of Christ that are now held in this kingdom. With regard to my turbulence, I know I am bidden follow peace with all men; but I know also I am bidden follow it with holiness; and since I could not obtain peace without prejudice to holiness, I thought myself obliged to let it go. As for your commission, Sir, to intimate this sentence, — I here declare, I think myself called by the Lord to the work of the ministry, for which I forsook the nearest relation in the world, and gave myself up to the service of the gospel in this place, having received an unanimous call from this parish, and having been licensed and ordained by the presbytery. I bless the Lord he has given me some success and seals of my ministry upon the souls and consciences of not a few who are gone to heaven, and of some who are yet on the way to it. And now, Sir, if you will take it upon you to interrupt my work among this people, I shall wish the Lord may forgive you the guilt of it: but I cannot but leave all the bad consequences that may fall out upon it, betwixt God and your own conscience. And here I do further declare before these gentlemen, that I am suspended from my ministry for adhering to the Covenants and word of God, from which you and others have apostatized.” Here the curate interrupted Guthrie, and said that the Lord had a work before that covenant had a being ; and that they were the only apostates who adhered to the covenant : — “ True,” replied Guthrie, “ the Lord had a work before that covenant had a being ; but it is as true, that it has been more glorious since that covenant; and it is a small thing for us to be judged of you, in adhering to the covenant, — you who have so deeply corrupted your ways. As for you, gentlemen,” turning to the soldiers, “ I wish the Lord may pardon your countenancing this man in his business,” — to which one of these scoffingly replied, “ I wish we may never do a greater fault!” — “Well!” answered Guthrie, “ a little sin may damn a man’s soul.” Guthrie here called for a glass of ale, and having asked a blessing, drank to the commanding officer, who, after having tasted, retired. But, to the curate he remarked, — that he apprehended some evident mark of the Lord’s displeasure awaited him for what he was doing, and seriously warned him to prepare for some visitation of Providence coming upon him very soon ; and says Mr W odrow : — “ I am well assured he never preached any more after he left Fenwick. He reached Glasgow, but it is not certain if he reached Cadder, though but six miles from Glas- gow. However, in a few days he died in great torment, of an iliac passion; and his wife and children all died in a year or SCOTS WORTHIES. 436 I I thereby, and none belonging to him were I left.” * I Before leaving Fenwick the curate re- paired to the church, and intimated the I bishop’s sentence from the pulpit, after ; having harangued the soldiers for about a | quarter of an hour ; for they formed the whole of his audience, with the exception of a few children, who annoyed the curate not a little. In compliance with their minister’s request, the parishioners were all quiet; although, if he had wished, they would have sacrificed their lives in defence j of his rights. It is generally believed that Guthrie | never preached in Fenwick after this ; but j it is related, that upon a certain occasion, | as he and a number of his parishioners j were returning from Stewarton, whither j they had gone to hear sermon, and under- standing that they were not altogether satisfied with what they had heard, he proposed to go over the discourse himself, if they chose. All having assented, and seated themselves upon a verdant knoll, in the calm of a delightful summer evening, he rehearsed the greater part of the ser- ! mon, to their great joy and edification, — so much pleased were they at hearing that voice once more, which had so often thrilled their hearts with rapture. He continued, how r ever, in Fenwick, till the year 1665, when, upon the death of the brother to whom he had made over the paternal estate, he and his wife took I their departure for Angus to look after ! the family affairs. But he had not been long there until he was attacked by a complication of maladies, which in about ten days wrought his dissolution. In the midst of his greatest sufferings, he said, “ The Lord has been kind to me, notwith- standing all the evils I have done ; and, I am assured, that though I should die mad, I shall die in the Lord. Blessed are the j dead that die in the Lord at all times ; but | more especially when a flood of errors, j snares, and judgments, are beginning or j coming on a nation, church, or people !” | So very excruciating were his bodily pains, that in order to afford him temporary | relief, his friends were frequently obliged | to hold down his head, and raise his lower ; extremities ; — yet, amidst all these he was | never heard to complain ; but adored the measures of Divine Providence, saying, — “ it might have been worse.” During his short intervals of cessation from bodily pain, he longed ardently for his dissolution, and often said how gladly he would make j the grave his dwelling-place, when it should please God to bring his sufferings to a close. Death came at length to his relief in the house of his brother-in-law, Mr | Lewis Skinner, at Brechin, upon Wednes- day, 10th October, 1665, in the 45th year of his age ; and he was buried in the j church of Brechin, immediately beneath I the seats allotted to the estate of Pit- i frothy. “ Guthrie,” says Mr Livingstone, “ was a man of most ready wit, fruitful invention, • and apposite comparisons, qualified both to awaken and pacify the conscience, straight and zealous for the cause of Christ, and a great light in the west of Scotland. In his doctrine he was as full and free as any man in Scotland had ever been; which, together with the excellency of his preach- ing gifts, so recommended him to the affection of his people, that they turned the corn-field of his glebe into a little town, every one building a house for his family on it, that they might five under the drop of his ministry.” Another writer says of : him — “ he was a burning and shining light ; he converted and confirmed many thou- sands of souls, and was esteemed the ! greatest preacher in Scotland. Indeed i he was accounted as well qualified for confirming those who were under exercise i | of souk as almost any in his age, or any ROBERT BLAIR. age we ever heard of. Many have made l reflections on him because he left off his ministry, on account of the bishop’s sus- pension. It is true that the authority of the Stuarts was too much the idol of jealousy to many of our worthy Scots reformers ; for, we may well wonder that the nation did not rise up, as one man, to cut off those who had razed the whole of the presbyterian constitution ; but the Lord, for holy and wise ends, saw meet to cut off those in power by another arm, after they had all been brought to the furnace | 437 ! ' together; although it might well have been seen,” as Guthrie observed, — “that the civil power laid the foundation for the other.” Besides his admirable work — “ The Christian’s Great Interest,” a few sermons, said to have been preached at Fenwick, from Matt. xix. 44, &c., and Hosea xiii. 9., are still extant. The treatise on “ Ruling Elders” affixed to the last edition of his works, is not his, but his cousin, Mr James Guthrie’s. A number of manuscripts, bearing a strong resemblance to his holo- | graph, are still to be found. ROBERT BLAIR. John Blair of Windyedge, a younger brother of the ancient family of Blair, in the parish of Irvine, was the father of this Worthy; and his mother was Beatrix Muir, of the family of Rowallen. He was born in 1593. His father died when very young, leaving his mother with six children, of whom Robert was the youngest. She is said to have lived to the age of 100, and to have spent nearly the half of that time in a state of honourable widowhood. Blair was sent to the university of Glasgow, when about 15 years of age, where he made such remarkable progress, both in the classics, and in philosophy which he studied under his own brother William, that in a very few years after he was ap- pointed to fill the chair which his brother had occupied, until he was settled minister of Dumbarton. Previous to his nomina- tion to the professorship, however, he is said to have distinguished himself greatly as a teacher in the city, at which time he was brought to a saving knowledge of the truth, under the ministry of the cele- brated Mr Boyd of Trochrig, into whose hand, says Blair himself in his memoirs, the Lord had put the key of his heart, so that whenever he heard him, he profited much, Mr Boyd having been sent to him as it were from God, to speak to him the words of eternal life. In the summer of 1616, Blair entered upon trials for license, and, having passed honourably through, he was appointed to preach in the College Kirk on the Sabbath following. Upon that occasion he was told by some of his audience, that in his sermon the Lord had spoken to their hearts, which excited him even more to follow after the Lord. Not long after, he had for one of his hearers the famous Mr Robert Bruce, and being anxious to know what that good man thought of his dis- courses, he received for answer: — “ I found your sermon very polished and well digested; but there is one thing I missed in it, and that is, the Spirit of God , — I found not that !” From this Blair learned, that, to be a successful minister of Jesus Christ, something more is necessary besides talent and eloquence. During the course of his professorship, a report having gone abroad that a new oath of a particular kind was to be exacted from the professors, he consulted Mr Gavin Forsyth, one of his colleagues, what should | be done in the matter. Forsyth replied, — “ By my faith, I must live !” — “ I wont | swear by my faith,” said Blair, “ as you do ; but truly I intend to live by my faith, j You may choose your own way; but I will | adventure upon the Lord.” Some years after, Forsjdh being reduced to great I poverty, applied to the General Assembly for relief ; and Blair, happening to be moderator at the time, could not help remarking upon his former conduct. In a private conference with the unfortunate man, he recalled to his mind his former unhappy expression ; but at the same time, | with great tenderness, told him that he I himself had been carried through by that faith, at which he had formerly scoffed. Some time after this he was under deep mental exercise upon that saying in scrip- ture, The just shall live by faith; the result of which, among other things, led him to remark, that it was no wonder that j his not making use of faith for sanctifica- j tion had occasioned an obstruction in the i progress of holiness ; and therefore he per- j ceived that making use of Christ for | sanctification, without directly employing faith to extract the same out of him, was like one seeking water out of a deep well, without a long cord to let down the bucket and draw it up again. “ Then,” said he, “ was I like one that came to the store- house, but got my proAusion reached to me, as it were through a window. I had come to the house of mercy, but had not found the right door; by this discovery, however, I found a patent portal at which to go in, to receive provision and furniture from Christ Jesus. Thus the blessed Lord trained me up, step by step, suffering many difficulties to arise, that more light from himself might flow in.” Soon after this, upon the resignation of principal Boyd, Dr Cameron was called from France to preside over the university of Glasgow; and being a stanch adherent to episcopacy, Blair was repeatedly urged by him to give in to the “ Five Articles ;” but he as frequently refused. The Doctor had his eye upon him ever after this ; and the more so, because he had been repeatedly worsted by Blair, in public disputations, ! which galled the Doctor’s scholastic pride j not a little. Besides, having acted towards j Blair, during his absence, in a manner far from being honourable, he foresaw that his future life, in connexion with a man of the Doctor’s temper, would be everything but pleasant, he gave in his resignation, and left the university, — to the great regret of his brethren, the students, and people of Glasgow. Although Blair had at that time calls from different parishes in Scotland, besides a very pressing solicitation to go to France, he accepted of an invitation to be minister of Bangor in Ireland. It is said that as he drew nigh that place he felt a powerful impression upon his mind, that the Dean of Bangor was sick, which, upon his arrival, he found to be the case. Mr Gibson, the incumbent, invited Blair to officiate for him, which he did for three sabbaths, with so much acceptance to the people, and even to the Dean himself, that he told Blair he would be his successor in that place, exhorting him, at the same time, in the name of Christ, not to forsake the good way in which he had begun to walk. The Dean was no friend in his heart to episcopacy, of which he gave Blair frequent assurance on his death-bed, behaving to- wards him with the greatest kindness and attention. A little before his death lie stretched out both his arms, and, drawing Blair towards him, blessed him in the most ROBERT BLAIR. 439 ! heavenly manner, which was so unlike his former general behaviour, that a bystander remarked ; — “ An angel is speaking out of the Dean’s bed to Mr Blair!” In a few days the Dean died, and Blair was settled in his place. With regard to his ordination, the fol- lowing singular fact is related. After Blair had told the bishop of the diocese his opinions regarding church government, and that ordination by one man did not accord with his principles; the bishop, having previously heard of his great talents and piety, observed : — “ Whatever you ac- count of episcopacy, yet I know you believe Presbytery to have a divine warrant — will you not receive ordination from Mr Cun- ningham and the adjacent brethren, and allow me to come in as a co-presbyter ?”■ — Upon no other terms could the bishop be answerable to the government ; and there- fore Blair yielded compliance, and was accordingly ordained about the year 1623. It was a serious undertaking ; for he had above 1200 persons of full age, besides children, who all stood in great need of instruction. Besides the stated duties of the sabbath, he preached regularly twice a week ; on which occasions he was greatly assisted, and made a blessed instrument of much good to the souls of many. In the great work which afterwards took place at Six-mile Water, and other parts in the counties of Down and Antrim, Blair was very much distinguished, not only by his own ministry, but also by the great pains he took in stirring up others to similar diligence. At the first celebration of the Lord’s Supper in that place, when treating of the new covenant, his heart was greatly elated, which determined him ever after, in the observance of that ordinance, to have re- course to the same inexhaustible fountain of consolation ; and, coming over to Scot- land soon after,* he received no small assistance from Mr Dickson, who had been restored to his flock at Irvine, and who was studying and preaching on the same i subject. But he was not allowed to j exercise his ministry for many years un- I disturbed ; for, in the autumn of 1631, he ; and Mr Livingstone were both suspended | by the bishop of Down. Upon applica- | tion, however, to archbishop Usher, their j sentence was relaxed, and they were per- [ j mitted to continue in their charge, until May of the following year, when they were finally deposed from the office of the holy ministry. As the last resource in this distressing case, Blair undertook a journey to London, to represent to the court his own situation, and that of his persecuted brethren ; but after waiting for a long time, he found ; there was very little hope of meeting king Charles, and therefore the time hung | very heavy on his hands. One day, how- ever, tired with waiting on the court, and labouring under deep despondency, after having engaged in solemn prayer, he walked out to Greenwich Park, and having [Greenwich Park.] * It is supposed that about this time he married j his first wife, Beatrix Hamilton, a very excellent lady, belonging to the family of Barduie. 1 440 SCOTS WORTHIES. ventured to ask of the Lord a sign by which he might be able to judge of his success, — it was most graciously revealed to him, that his wishes would ere long be realized. Very soon after this, then, he received a despatch from his majesty, not only granting the prayer of his petition ; but, in a note to the deputy, on the margin, written with the king’s own hand, were the words : — “ Indulge these men, for they j are Scotsmen!” Upon his return to Ireland, he presented , Charles’ note to the deputy ; but he paid no attention to it ; wherefore he was com- pelled once more to have recourse to good i archbishop Usher. The venerable old ; man shed tears because he felt himself unable to assist the suffering servants of God ; however, through the kind interposi- tion of lord Castlestuart, the king granted them six months’ liberty. But, after all, in November, 1634, he was again cited before the bishop, and sentence of ex- communication pronounced against him. Blair’s spirit rose with the emergency, and, before the bishop’s face, he summoned him to answer for his conduct before the j tribunal of Jesus Christ. Upon this the I bishop contemptuously appealed from the justice of God to his mercy; to which Blair very coolly replied : — “ Your appeal is like to be rejected, because you act against the light of your conscience !” — and so it happened ; for in a few months after, the bishop was taken ill; and, labouring under great anguish of mind, he said to his physician one day, when in- i quiring how he felt : — “ It is my conscience, man, it is my conscience!” — As might have been expected, the Doctor’s observa- tion was : — “ I have no cure for that !”■ — and, in a short time after, the bishop departed this life, to learn the issue of his appeal. After his ejection, Blair continued to preach frequently in his own and some neighbouring houses, until the beginning of the year 1635, when he entered into the matrimonial state a second time, with Catharine, daughter of Hugh Montgomery of Busbie, in Ayrshire, then with his family in Ireland. It has been already mentioned, that a number of the ejected presbyterian ministers - in Ireland had formed a project of building a vessel to convey them to America, and that they actually accomplished this. A tremendous hurricane, however, rendered their scheme abortive, and they sought reftige in Scotland. Blair was one of these. Having continued about four months in Ireland, after the failure of the j expedition, he and Mr Livingstone, having received information, that they were about to be apprehended, immediately went on board a vessel bound for Scotland, where : they landed in 1637. The principal scene of Blair’s labours was about Irvine, and the surrounding country ; but he went also occasionally to Edinburgh. Episcopacy being then powerfully regnant in the country, he accepted of chaplainship in Col. Hepburn’s regiment in the French | service, a corps recently raised in Scotland, ! and with that officer he embarked at Leith. But the display of a military life was not at all suited to our Worthy’s habits. The regiment was composed chiefly of wild Highlanders who were intolerant of re- proof, and could not brook the idea of clerical discipline; and therefore, upon any reproof of Blair’s, how grievous soever the offence, they made show of their weapons, and threatened to stab the good man. Such conduct as this at once determined him to abandon the service, and he was set ashore privately, without imparting his intention to any one. On this occasion he had a very narrow escape for his life ; for, his foot having slipped, he would have fallen into the sea, had he not caught hold of a rope, by which he hung till he was relieved. ROBERT BLAIR. 441 Blair’s return was matter of great joy to his friends, and, in the spring of 1638 he was called to be fellow-labourer with Mr Annan, at Ayr, to which charge he was inducted upon the 2d day of May following. His stay, however, was but short; for, having at the General Assembly of that year, vindicated himself in regard to his disputation with Dr Cameron, while professor in the university of Glas- gow, and also in the matter of his settle- ment in Ireland, he was by the supreme court appointed to St Andrews, where his splendid talents might be turned to better account. He, nevertheless, continued another year, not seeing his way clearly, as he expressed himself ; but the Assembly of 1639, dissatisfied at this act of disobedi- ence, ordered him to betake himself thither without delay. Blair went over again to Ireland, after the rebellion in 1641,* with the permission of the General Assembly, who had been supplicated for a supply of ministers, to fill up the vacancies of those who had either fallen in battle, or had been otherwise deprived of their livings ; and, at this time, he was no less laborious than formerly. In 1643 he acted as one of the committee of the General Assembly who agreed to a I Solemn League and Covenant betwixt Scotland and England ; and in the end of the same year, when the Scots assisted the English parliament, he was appointed chap- lain to the earl of Crawford’s regiment; in which situation he continued until July, 1644, when the king’s troops were de- feated at Marston-moor ;t after which he returned to his charge at St Andrews. * A contemporary writer says that in this re- bellion, the papists massacred about 200,000 pro- testants, — men, women, and children. f “ The Scots army entered England,” says the Medulla Histories Scoticce, “Jan. 16, 1643, their army being in number 18,000 foot, and 2,000 horse. After they had served the parliament upon several occasions, and particularly at Marston-moor, Blair opened the parliament and com- mission of Assembly, at Perth, in July, 1645 ; and, after having again preached before parliament, on the 27th — a day of solemn humiliation, — he rode out to the army, then encamped at Forgandenny, and preached to Crawford and Maitland’s regi- ments. In that sermon he told them that their wickedness was notorious ; and, though they had been victorious at Marston-moor, they would not be able to stand before a less formidable foe, if they did not repent, and turn to God. In about three weeks after, the greater part of Crawford’s regi- ment was cut down at the unfortunate affair of Kilsyth. After this defeat, Blair opposed all terms of accommodation with Montrose ; saying that the Lord would look upon the afflic- tion of his people — and so it turned out — for the Committee of Estates recalled General Leslie with 4000 foot and 1000 horse. Montrose by this timQ had received orders from the king to march southward, and oppose Leslie ; but the latter, having surprised the royal army at Philiphaugh, totally routed Montrose, and put his army to flight, — the general himself having with difficulty made his escape. Among the prisoners taken in that en- counter were Sir Robert Spottiswood, Nathaniel Gordon, and Andrew Guthrie, who were condemned to be executed on the 17th of January thereafter. With these gentlemen Blair was at great pains to bring them to a sense of their guilt; and with Sir Robert he so far succeeded, as to obtain from him a wish to be released where they helpt them to obtain a victory against prince Rupert, they retired to Newcastle, — the king being brought so low, that he was hardly | able to keep anything of an army in the field, | came thither in disguise, acquainting General ■ Leslie, the Scotish general, that he would now j commit himself to him ; looking upon him as a | man of honour, that would do nothing but what J was just and loyal, in a matter of such weight.” j 3 K 442 SCOTS WORTHIES. from the sentence of excommunication under which he lay. With this Blair complied; but the other two, being bishops’ sons, were not to be moved . — Mali corvi malum ovum * In the Assembly of 1646, Blair, who was moderator at the time, was one of those appointed to go to the king at New- castle, and endeavour to convince him of the alarming bloodshed he had caused in the nation; and, if possible, to reconcile him to Presbytery and the Covenants. Among other things, the conversation having turned to popery, Blair asked his majesty if there were not abominations in that worship : — “ Yes,” replied Charles, “ I take God to witness there are abomina- tions in popery, which I so much abhor, that ere I consent to them, I would rather lose my life and my crown !” Upon this Blair urged him strongly to gratify the desires of his subjects, — but he refused. Blair’s j plain dealing with the king, however, im- pressed his majesty with a favourable opinion of his honest sincerity ; but, unable to move Charles to compliance, he returned home to St Andrews, for the time. Here, however, he was not permitted to remain long ; for Mr Henderson, the king’s chaplain, having died in the interim, Charles immediately sent for Blair to supply the vacancy. In this also, Blair did not at once see his way clearly ; but having consulted his friend Mr Dickson, and recollecting how honourably his de- ceased brother had held fast his integrity, amid all the fascinations of a court, he accepted of his majesty’s offer. Blair’s diligence and fidelity, as chaplain to the household, were most exemplary, — praying every day in the presence-chamber before pinner and supper; lecturing once, and d reaching twice, every Lord’s day; besides preaching occasionally in St Nicholas’ * Rooks out of a bad nest. church on other days; conversing much with the king; debating with him upon the forms of episcopacy ; and pressing him, upon every proper opportunity, to accede to the just desires of his people. After prayer, one day, the king asked him if it was warrantable to determine a controversy in prayer — as you have to-day declared the pope to be antichrist, — a point, concerning which divines are still at issue. Blair replied : — “ Please your majesty, with me this is no controversy, and I am sorry it should be accounted so by your majesty ; for it was not so with your royal father!” Upon hearing this, the king was silent ; for the authority of his father was of more w r eight with him, than that of any divine. After having performed the duties for a few months, he was permitted to visit his flock and family. During the sitting of the next Scots parliament, Blair paid the king another visit at Newcastle, where he urged him with all the eloquence and arguments he could command, to subscribe the Covenants, and abolish episcopacy in England, — assur- ing him that every honest Scotsman would espouse his cause against his enemies. To this Charles replied, — that he was bound by his great oath to defend episcopacy in that church, and, rather than wrong his conscience, by violating his oath, he would lose his crown. Blair, knowing the form of words to be only, that he would main- tain it to the utmost of his power, informed his majesty that he had not only done so ; but, for such a length of time, and to such an extent, that he had now no power. All was unavailing, however ; and there- fore Blair took his departure for St An- drews with a heavy heart. In 1648, when Cromwell made a descent upon Edinburgh, Messrs Blair, Dickson, and James Guthrie, were deputed by the Commission of Assembly to wait upon the usurper, and endeavour to obtain his ROBERT BLAIR. 443 assent to a uniformity of religious worship in England ; but Cromwell evaded the point in his usual manner, by smooth and adulatory speeches, frequently appealing to God as to the sincerity of his intentions. But Blair was not to be trifled with ; he respectfully demanded an answer to three questions — What was his opinion of monar- chical government ? — What were his views of toleration ? — and, What did he think of the government of the church ? To the first, Cromwell said he was in favour of government by monarchy ; to the second, that he was altogether hostile to toleration ; and to the third : — “ Eh, Mr Blair ! you article me too severely now, — you must pardon me, that I give you not a present answer to this !” Blair knew well the meaning of this evasion ; for Cromwell had formerly confessed that he was par- tial to that of Independence. When the deputation left Cromwell, Mr Dick- son observed “that he was glad to hear that man speak no worse.” “ Ah !” said Blair, “you don’t know him so well as I, or you would not believe one word he says ; for he is a most egregious dissembler !” In the contest between the resolutioners and protesters, Blair remained for the most part neutral; although, upon every occasion where he thought he could effect a pacification, he used all his influence and eloquence to reconcile differences ; yet, both at St Andrews and at Edinburgh, where there was a strong muster on both sides, all his hopes were blasted, and every shadow of agreement vanished. In this state did affairs continue till the year 1660, when, upon the death of Crom- well, the nation, weakened by internal dis- sensions, agreed to recall Charles II, to the throne. On this occasion, Blair once more made an attempt to bring about a reconciliation ; but his endeavours were again frustrated, and a long and bloody persecution was the result. In September, 1661, Sharp came to St Andrews, and the presbytery having been well assured of the double part he had been acting, and of the probability of his being made archbishop of St Andrews — ill at ease with such an A chan in their camp — commissioned Blair and another minister to wait upon him, and inform him of what had come to their knowledge. This these gentlemen did with so much plainness and fair dealing, that Sharp was never at ease till Blair was ejected. Very soon after this, Blair, having taken occasion to preach from 1 Pet. iii. 13: — “ And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?” — introduced into the discourse, the topics of suffering for righteousness’ sake, and giving testimony to the Covenants and the work of Reformation, against the corrupt courses of the times. As might have been expected, Blair was summoned to appear before the council, to answer for the sentiments to which he had given expres- sion. The points upon which he was interrogated, were: — 1. Whether he had asserted presbyterial government to be jure divino? — 2. Whether he had asserted that suffering for it was suffering for righteousness’ sake? — 3. Whether in his prayers against popery he had joined pre- lacy with it ? — Having answered in the affirmative, and expressed his sorrow that they should doubt his opinion upon these points, he was first confined to his chamber in Edinburgh ; but afterwards, on account of his health, permitted to retire to In- veresk, about the middle of January, 1662, where he remained until October, enjoying amidst all his perplexities, much of the divine presence. Through the kindness of the chancellor, he then obtained liberty to go anywhere he chose, with the Exception of St Andrews, Edin- burgh, and the west country. He made choice of Kirkaldy; but, in consequence SCOTS WORTHIES. 1 1 444 | | of an Act which was passed soon after — that no ousted minister should reside within twenty miles of an archbishop’s see, — he removed to Meikle Couston, in the parish of Aberdour, where he remained till his death. At length, worn out with age and grief, he was taken ill on the 10th of August, 1666 ; but he was enabled to look forward to his approaching exit, with the com- posure and serenity of a believer in Jesus. Many and gracious were the edifying words with which he both strengthened and comforted the numerous friends who visited him upon his deathbed. Upon one • occa- sion, when told of some severe acts of council, lately passed at the instigation | of archbishop Sharp, instead of reproach- i ing him, he prayed earnestly that the Lord j would open his eyes, and give him repent- ance ; and afterwards, in a conversation with Mrs Rutherford, said : — •“ I would not exchange situations with that man j (Sharp) altho’ all between us were red i j gold, and given me to the bargain !” To his wife and children he spoke with | the most affectionate seriousness ; and after | having solemnly blessed them, he addressed | them one by one upon subjects of grave j and eternal importance. To his son David j he said, “ I have again and again thought | upon my former w r ays, and communed with my heart ; and as for my public actings and carriage, in reference to the Lord’s work, if I were to begin again, I would just do as I have done.” He frequently repeated the 16th, 23d, and 71st psalms, j — the latter of which he used to call his own. About two days before his death, I his speech began to fail so much that his words were but imperfectly understood; but to his wife, and some other attendants he was heard to say, that he rejoiced to suffer as a persecuted minister, adding ! very energetically: — “ Is it not persecution I I to thrust me from the work of the ministry, which w’as my delight, and hinder me from doing good to my people and flock, which was my joy and crown of rejoicing,, and to I chase me from place to place, till I am wasted with heaviness and sorrow, for the injuries done to the Lord’s prerogative, j interest, and cause?” These were among the last intelligible expressions he was heard to utter. At length death terminated all his earthly sufferings and sorrows, on the morning of the 27th of August, 1766. He was buried in the churchyard of Aberdour, close by the wall, upon which was erected a small monument, with the following unostentatious inscription: — Hie reconditse jacent mortuae Exuviae D. Robert! Blair, S. S. Evangelii apud Andreapolin Praedicatoris fidelissimi. Obiit Augusti 27, 1666, Aetatis suae 73.* Blair was a man of an excellent con- stitution ; and, though of a majestically dignified mien, his deportment was humble, affable, and courteous. In all the private as well as public duties of his station, he was laborious, diligent, and unremitting; not only endearing himself to the people of his own parish and congregation ; but to all the people of God in the district where he lived. In the church judicatories he bore a very distinguished character, not ! only for the quickness of his apprehension, but also for the clearness of his expositions, j and the decision which he uniformly dis- played in all matters of public concern. I At the time when the General Assembly resolved upon a new Exposition of the Bible, the portion assigned to Blair was the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes; but the former of these only he finished in the same year on which he died. He * Here lie intombed the mortal remains of Mr Robert Blair, S.S., a very faithful preacher of the gospel at St Andrews, who died on the 27th of ! August, 1666, in the 73d year of his age. HUGH M‘KAIL. 445 is said also to have cultivated, occasionally, short epigrams on various subjects, which a taste for poetry, and to have left behind did no inconsiderable honour to the age him a few fugitive effusions, and some ' in which he lived. HUGH M'KAIL. Although all the historians of the age in which M‘Kail lived narrate his suffer- ings and death, yet not one of them takes any notice of the place of his birth. We have it, however, from authority which has not been disputed, that he was born of pious and respectable parents, in the parish of Libberton, near Edinburgh ; and that they very early dedicated him to the work of the ministry. As a scholar, he dis- tinguished himself very highly ; and as a student in divinity, he, at that early age, gave sure indications of becoming a talented preacher of the gospel. Before he was twenty years of age, he became chaplain and tutor in the family of Sir James Stewart of Coltness, at that time lord provost of Edinburgh, a gentle- man remarkable for his attachment to the cause of both civil and religious liberty. In this family M‘Kail became acquainted with the marquis of Argyle, the earl of , Loudon, lord Warriston, and many other j kindred spirits, whose patriotic attachment to the cause of Presbytery he then imbibed, and continued afterwards to embrace with such ardour, as to make him willing to suffer the loss of all things in its defence. But M‘ Kail’s enjoyment of these happy scenes was but of short duration. The tyrannical overbearing of king Charles, and his irreconcilable aversion to the principles of the Covenant, urged on by a horde of popish incendiaries, led him soon after to overthrow the presbyterian church, as has been already more than once nar- rated. Although the family of Sir James had been friendly to the cause of the monarch in the days of his adversity, these things were all forgotten now, and he was involved in the general persecution. Hav- ing been induced to accompany his friend Sir John Chiesly of Carswell to Edinburgh castle, both of these gentlemen were then made prisoners by order of the government.* In the winter of 1661, M‘ Kail, who still abode with the family of Coltness, offered himself for license before the presbytery of Edinburgh, and having gone through his probationary trials to their satisfaction, he obtained the ultimatum of his ambition, — viz., that he might preach “ Christ, the power of God, and the wisdom of God, unto salvation.” From the last sermon which he delivered at that time, in the High Church of Edinburgh, from Song i. 7.,t may be dated , the commencement of his sufferings. In | this sermon he fearlessly showed that it was no new thing for the church to be involved in persecution ; and, amplifying the subject, he said, — a Pharaoh on the throne, a Haman in the state, and a Judas in the church, had done the work in former times ; and although in his * From Edinburgh castle, Sir James was re- moved to Dundee, and fined, first in £500, and afterwards in £1000. f brethren equally minded, he meekly and cheerfully bore many indignities and pri- vations, which a despotic prince, by means of fiend-like emissaries, cruelly delighted to inflict. The subjoined extract is from a sketch of his character which was written, immediately after his decease, by Mr Mac- Ward to a friend in Scotland : — * “ During all the space we were toge- ther in the country, I observed him, (his chamber being just above mine,) to be as much in prayer and communion with God as ever I observed any, yea more, insomuch that my esteem for him grew above what it had been, though I had good cause. There was no minister now alive in the Church of Scotland, in the same class with him in my esteem and account of abilities, fixedness, faithfulness, and pure zeal ac- cording to knowledge ; and to sum up all, I must say, alas ! — the witness of the Church j of Scotland; the man who withstood the j present course of desertion ; the man who, | in resisting the adversaries of the truth of all sorts and sizes, was helped to do val- | iantly, and made able to do exploits for his God ; the man who, while the archers, (his brethren I mean, for they were the bow- men,) have sorely grieved him and shot at him and hated him, yet his bow abode in its strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong to his very grave ; ay, by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob. — How hateful soever it may render us to such who hated a man so greatly beloved of his Lord and Master, to have the reasons of what I said rendered, yet as the Lord may, and I hope shall, prepare me to bear the load above the burden they had already laid upon my loins, so they must prepare themselves to hear these set before them. And, my friend, I give you warrant moreover to let as many know as you please, that however * Wodrow MSS., Advocates’ Library, Edinburgh, I vol. lviii. art. 108. JOHN BROWN. some were pleased to give it out that there was a difference and dryness betwixt us, (because many wish it, and would have it had been so,) yet it pleased the Lord to keep us, till death hath now made a separation, of the same sort and senti- ments in all things relating to the public work and interest of Christ, yea, we were more so than ever.” Brown was famous for learning and faithfulness, warm zeal, and true piety. He was an able preacher ; in contro- versy, he was acute, masculine, and strong; in history, plain and comprehen- sive ; in divinity, substantial and correct ; the first he discovers in his Latin work against the Socinians, and in his treatise De Causa Dei contra Anti- Sab - batarios , which is greatly valued by the learned. There is also a large manuscript history, entitled, Apologia pro JEcclesia , 7 5 JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL. The farm of Priesthill is situated in the parish of Muirkirk, and district of Kyle, in Ayrshire ; and, about a hundred and sixty years ago, was possessed by John Brown, commonly called the Christian Carrier. His house, which stands to this day,* is on the brow of a hill, behind which rises an extensive tract of heath, moss-hags, and rocks, some of which command a view of several counties. The house is of stone and lime, and is covered with heather. The inside must have been comfortable according to the taste of the time ; and John Brown had it respectably furnished, for a person of his rank. But wealthy farmers and graziers of the present day would scarcely call it comfortable. It had I no grate ; the fire was burned on the floor ; and having no openings in the wall, the smoke rose tardily to the chimney top. Yet dark and smoky as it was, many had found it a little sanctuary ; not only for refuge, but for God’s presence. Though simple in their habits and fur- niture, the inhabitants of these wild districts were well informed ; even their children i took an interest in everything that was | going on in Scotland, and read the same books as their fathers did. John was only a boy when upwards of three hundred ministers were deposed, in i one day, by Charles the Second ; because they, in conscience, could not, or would not, submit that the Church should be lorded over by bishops. He often described the distress that prevailed in the country on that occasion, and the anguish and weep- ing throughout the churches, on the sab- * From subsequent information it would appear that the present house is of more modern date. bath their ministers preached their farewell sermons. It was heart-rending to part with such men, so remarkable for grace, and eminent for gifts ; many of them learn- ed, and all of them singularly dear to their people. “ None of them were scandalous, insufficient, or negligent, and the fruits of their ministry were everywhere conspi- cuous. One might have travelled many miles without hearing an oath ; and could rarely lodge in a house where God was not worshipped. Iniquity, ashamed, hid its head. But what a dreadful reverse was felt when prelacy was introduced by ar- bitrary means ! It was like king Saul’s change, a bad spirit after a good.”* The whirlwind of persecution carried the seeds of salvation where the influence of the Reformation had not reached. The | Scottish border, proverbial for freebooters i or robbers, felt the divine effects of the banished ministers.! They were there harboured without fear or dread of laws, j and kindly entertained. The inhabitants of the heath-covered moors, and the distant isles of the sea were made glad, and blos- somed as the rose. Thus, the scattering of the ministers made new inroads upon Satan’s kingdom. The gospel flourished, though driven from temples made with hands. Many date their conversion from the glad tidings they heard in these wilds, saying with the Psalmist, “Lo ! we heard of thee at Ephratah, we found thee in the field of the wood.” It was from these banished ministers * Wodrovv. f Mr Gabriel Semple, and Mr John Welsh, the grandson of Knox, planted churches that flour- ; ish to this day. SCOTS WORTHIES. 576 that John received his superior education. He was intended for the Church, had not an uncommon difficulty of expressing his sentiments to strangers prevented him from prosecuting his studies. But what was strange, in prayer he was gifted in an ex- traordinary measure. In such scriptural language did he pour forth his soul, and i at the same time with such variety, fluency, and affection, that he appeared like one superhuman. Many have a gift of prayer whose lives bespeak them far from the kingdom of heaven. Such was not Priest- hill. His actions with men were just and prudent ; so much so, that he was intrust- ed, when a very young man, with the pro- duce of the neighbouring shepherds, to carry to market and dispose of, and bring back what they required in return. • In this capacity he got the name of the Christian Carrier , and was often the first that brought them tidings of the mis- chief that was framed by law against the Presbyterians. He was merely a youth at the rising of Pentland ; and, not having been either at the battle of Drumclog or Bothwell, he could evade with ease the insnaring ques- tions that every traveller was required to answer ; by which means he passed to and fro unmolested, — although he did not attend the curate of Muirkirk, who was a silly, easjr creature, and did not make so many complaints of his parishioners as some did. John’s good education was not lost. Besides being a source of enjoyment to himself, it was a benefit to the youth for miles around him, who were then much neglected. To counteract the bade xam- ple of the wicked who then walked on every side, when Hie men were high in place, every Monday night he met with these young persons, and instructed them from the Bible and the Confession of Faith. In summer they assembled in a sheep-bught, and in winter they formed a circle around a large fire of peat and cannel-coal,, that blazed in the middle of the spence- floor. The effects of the substantial infor- mation these rustics got, is felt to this day in that neighbourhood. Our Worthy was not alone in this good work ; David and William Steel were helpmates. It was about the year 1680, that Priest- hill got acquainted with Isabel Weir, in the parish of Sorn ; she was a very supe- rior woman, though her disposition was the very reverse of his ; she was lively and jo- cular, and could cheer up his grave counte- nance till he was as animated as herself. She saw him often ; for he had frequently j business to transact with her father, when I he passed to and from Ayr. They often ! talked of Zion’s trouble ; and what was remarkable, when he sought her in mar- riage, he told her he felt a foreboding in his mind that he would one day be called to ! seal the Church’s testimony with his blood. After this, the Indulged ministers had gone so far in the course of defection, that the more conscientious sufferers had none they could hear, after the death of Cameron and Cargill. They resolved to form them- selves into societies, to meet quarterly, of members delegated from their weekly pray^ er-meetings. The second of these quarterly meetings took place at Priesthill, February, 1682, where they made a contribution to send a young man to Holland, to be licen- sed as preacher to them. The fruits of this brought forward Mr Renwick, of glo- rious memory. About two months after this, Priesthill was married by Mr Peden, who happened to be in Kyle baptizing children. The marriage took place in a glen near the house. When Isabel and her company arrived at the spot, they were surprised at the assembly gathered. Mr Peden wel- comed her and said : — “These are to be wit- nesses of your vows ; they are all friends, and have come at the risk of their lives to JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL. 577 j ! hear God’s word, and to countenance his John had, by a former wife, a little | 1 1 ordinance of marriage.” girl about five years of age, who, on the I fThe Covenanter’s Marriage.] morning after his marriage, lifted the latch of the spence-door, and finding Isabel alone said, while she covered her face sliily with her arm, “ They say ye are my mother !” “ What if I should be your mother ?” re- plied Isabel. “ Naething, but if I thought ye were my mother, I would like to come in aside you a wee,” said Jennie, with art- less simplicity. “ I hope I w r ill be your mother, my bairn, and that God will give me grace to be so, and that you will be a comfort to me and your father.” And she proved so. When but a child she was a help and pleasure to them. She would watch her father’s return, and as soon as she saw his pack-horse* at a distance, coming along the bent, she would announce the joyful tidings. Then the gudewife hasted, and made ready his milk porridge, * Carriers in those days were unacquainted with the luxury of wheel-carts ; and there were no turn, pikes on which wheels could run. [ had them dished, eovered with a clean cloth, and warm water to wash his weary feet, a blazing fire, and a clean hearth ; and she and Janet would go out and welcome him home, and help him off with his horse’s load. The domestic peace and comfort of Priesthill are talked of even to this day. Many anecdotes are told, and one among the rest that illustrates the precept of hospitality to strangers ; for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. The second year after his marriage, one night in the beginning of winter, John had gone to a neighbour’s house ; the family at home were preparing the wool of their flocks for hodden-gray cloth, to sell at Lawrie’s fair in Hamilton. The shepherd carded the black and white wool together for the women to spin; Janet and the herd boy were teasing for the carder; the gudewife sat nursing her first born son at 4 l> | SCOTS WORTHIES. 5 78 one side of the fire, when the dog, which lay at full length at the other, started up and ran to the door, barking at the ap- proach of a stranger. Isabel thought it would be her husband returned, and was about to rise to meet him. Janet and the herd were almost as soon at the door as the dog, and calling to him, “ Whisht, Collie, whisht, you mu’na speak to the un- co man.” The herd caught the dog in his arms and returned with him into the house, while Janet followed, leading a stranger, first looking to her mother for encourage- ment, and then to her guest. She led him to her father’s chair with a courtesy that seemed to give rise to strong emotions in his heart. The stranger was young in years, of a little stature, and fine fair countenance ; but he was pale with fatigue and sickness. His shoes were worn out ; a shepherd’s plaid hung round him, seemingly for disguise ; for by his dress and speech he seemed of a superior rank. While the servants gazed on him, the gudewife did not know whether she should welcome him as a sufferer, or consider him as a spy; so she left Janet to perform the kind offices which the stranger required, while she lulled her boy to sleep, by singing a verse of an old song. While the gudewife sang, the stranger’s I face brightened up, and he more cheerfully ■ accepted the child’s endearing attentions, ! who placed him in the warmest corner, j | helped him off with his dripping plaid, imi- j tating all the kind offices she had seen her I mother perform to her father, to the no ! small amusement of the rest of the family, j On the stranger it had a different effect. | He burst into tears, and cried, “ May the blessing of him that is ready to perish rest upon you, my dear bairn ! Surely God has heard my cry, and provided me a place to rest my head for a night. O that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place of way- faring men, that I might leave my people |L and go from them ; for they be an assembly of treacherous men.” Just as he had finished, Priesthill entered. He gazed on him, and with great deference bade him welcome to his house. “ Do you know me?” said the stranger. “ I think I do,” said John. “ It was in this house that the Societies met that contributed to send you to Holland, and now I fear they have not received you — at least some of them — as they ought.” “ Their reproach has not broken my heart,” said Mr Ren- wick,* — for it was he, though he was not named before the family, — “but the exces- sive travelling, night-wanderings, unseason- j able sleep, frequent preaching in all weath- ers, especially in the night, has so debili- tated me, that I am unfit often for my work.” Every one of the family now strove to do him some kindness. The shepherd brought him clean hose and shoes ; the herd his new night-cap ; the lasses left their wheels and washed his feet ; the gudewife prepared j him a warm supper, while little Janet, | worn out, was fast asleep at his side. In those days, hospitality was with many j in reality what it ought to be, purely exer- cised for God’s glory, and without display of grandeur. The motives were like silver tried ; it was at the risk of all, even life. Hence the joy of such pure intercourse was sweet beyond description. As iron sharpen- eth iron, so doth the face of man his friend. Renwick and Priesthill talked of the suf- ferings of the Church, her testimony, her covenanted cause, and her ultimate triumph. Yes, they had more comfort in the faith that Christ would one day be Head over all things, King of kings, and Lord of lords, than the wicked have, when corn and wine do most abound. Soon after Mr Renwick left Priesthill, * The last who suffered death in Scotland for the sake of truth and a good conscience. He was executed at Edinburgh, Feb. 1 7th, 1688. JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL. 579 j his followers and he published their Apo- I logetic Declaration. Mr Renwick was at first averse to the measure, but at last agreed. The society that met at Priesthill was soon broken up. John Wilson, and John Smith, of Lesmahagow, were shot by colonel Buchan and the laird of Lee, in February, 1685. John Brown of Blackwood, in the same parish, was shot in the beginning of March following, by lieutenant Murray, after the promise of quarter. After this, Priesthill could not continue I his business of carrier, though he had no | hand in the Apologetic Declaration. His opinion — and his conduct was consistent | with it — was, that he ought to live as in ! an enemy’s country, and without sin. Yet j he was often obliged to betake to the high I lands of Kyle, and of Lanarkshire, and to bear the chilling cold of March and April winds, with the more bitter blast of persecution. On one of those days, when driven from his home, he fled for refuge to a deep ravine, or moss-hag, that had been formed by the current of a water-spout, carrying shrubs, soil, moss, and all before it, to the dale land beneath, leaving a frightful chasm, amidst a vast field of heath. Its deep mossy sides made it inaccessible to stran- gers ; only the neighbouring husbandmen knew where the brackens hid the rocks, whose shelvy sides conducted to the bottom. In the sides of this natural alley were dens and caves, sufficient to hide a large com- pany. In one of these Priesthill intended to spend the day in prayer, and had be- gun to pour out his soul in the words of Lamentations iii. 40, and downward, when a sweet sound reached his ear, that seemed to proceed from another part of the moss-hag. “ It is the hallowed sound of praising God, and by some fellow-sufferers said J ohn, as he rose from his knees to search them out ; and to his no small joy found out David and William Steel, his neigh- bours, and Joseph Wilson, from Lesmaha- gow, in the cleft of a rock that jutted half- way into the ravine. David Steel had a narrow escape the day before this. When just about to begin the morning worship, one cried out, “ There is the enemy com- ing !” He arose with the Bible under his arm, and, without knowing what he was about, went into the byre, and laid himself down in an empty cow-stall, putting the Bible on his breast. His wife, equally un- conscious, turned over him a heap of bed- ding, just as the soldiers entered the place. They stabbed the straw where he lay, but the Bible received the point of the sword, and they left the house without finding their victim. William Steel’s house was near at hand, and was also searched. His wife had locked him in her clothes-press. After they searched every place without success, and had left the house, a soldier returned, and said to the gudewife, “ Mis- tress, next time you hide, hide better ; part of your husband’s coat is locked without your press and with these words he left her, to join his company. After he was gone, to her amazement she found it as the soldier had said. William Steel, who escaped death from the persecutors, and lived many years after the Revolution, said often, if ever there was a time in his life that he would wish to enjoy over again, it was that in which he suffered persecution ; especially that day and night he spent in the moss-hag. Among the last of the needy adventurers of Charles II.’s reign, who could swim through the blood of their more conscien- tious countermen to favour and emolu- ment, was Graham of Claverhouse. “ He was descended from the house of Montrose, ! and was educated in France, the best school j for dissolute manners and cruelty. He fought against the French in the Low SCOTS WORTHIES. 580 Countries, under the Prince of Orange, but being refused the command of one of the Scottish regiments then in the Dutch service, he left it in disgust and came over to England. His dissolute manners and vivacity soon got him notice at court, and the command of a party of Highlanders.” His first appearance on the stage of Scot- land’s tragedy was in 1678, taking free quarters for himself and men in the house of Gilbert M‘Michen, in New Glenluce ; and when they went off, besides what they consumed, they took with them three ! horses, worth ten pounds each. In every [ succeeding appearance he may be marked | as rising in cruelty and exaction. ! Charles being now dead, James, duke | of York, required such instruments to com- pel submission to his system of cruelty. Having now thrown off the mask, the sus- picion of the Reformers, that Prelacy was to be handmaid to the introduction of Pop- ery in Scotland, was verified. For that purpose he enlarged the commission of Claverhouse, and created him viscount of ! Dundee. “ The measure of fixing garrisons of sol- diers through the south and west counties, as if Scotland had been invaded by a for- eign enemy, was the beginning of many cold-blooded murders in the field. One of these garrisons was fixed at Lesmahagow.” Claverhouse came unexpectedly there, late on the last night of April, 1685,and having heard of John’s piety and non-conformity, by six o’clock next morning he was at Priesthill, — a proof how he thirsted after the blood of such men. As usual, John had risen with the dawn, and had offered up the morning sac- rifice. After worship, the good man went to the hill to prepare some peat-ground ; | the servants were also out, but at some distance, when Claverhouse surrounded the helpless man with three troops of dragoons, and brought him down to his own house. He left his implements of industry with great composure, and walked down be- | fore them more resembling a leader than a captive. Meanwhile Janet had alarmed her mo- | ther by telling her that a great many horse- men were coming down the hill with her father. “ The thing that I feared is come [ upon me ; O give me grace for this hour !” said her mother, hastily taking up her boy, and wrapping him in her plaid, and taking Janet by the hand, she went on to meet her foes, praying in secret as she went. The leisurely way of examining persons by law, in which there was some semblance of justice, was now departed from. Cla- verhouse simply asked him why he did not attend the curate, and if he would pray for king James? He said he acknow- ledged only Christ as supreme Head of the Church, and could not attend the curates, because they were placed there contrary to His law. Upon hearing this, Claverhouse said: — “ Go to your prayers, for you shall im- mediately die,” which he did in such a manner as filled the troops with amaze- ment. On his family it had a different effect. His wife, who was great with child, with another in her arms, and Janet at her side, stood while he prayed “that every covenanted blessing might be poured upon her and her children, born and unborn, as one refreshed by the in- fluence of the Holy Spirit, when he comes down like rain upon the mown grass, as showers upon the earth.” When Claverhouse could bear his pray- ers no longer, and had succeeded, after in- terrupting him twice with the most bias- ; phemous language, to raise him from his I knees, John said to his wife : — “ Isabel, this j is the day I told you of before we were I married and added, with his usual kind- ness, “ you see me summoned to appear in a few minutes before the court of heaven, ! JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL. as a witness in our Redeemer’s cause, against the ruler of Scotland. Are you willing that I should part from you?” “ Heartily willing,” said she, in a voice that spoke her regard for her husband, and her submission to the Lord, even when he called her to bow before His terrible things. “ That is all I wait for ; O death, | where is thy sting ? O grave, where will | be thy victory ?” said John, while he j tenderly laid his arms around her, kissed her and her little boy, and lastly Janet, saying to her: — “ My sweet bairn, give your hand to God as your guide, and be your mother’s comfort !” He could add no more ; a tide of tenderness overflowed | his heart. At last he uttered these words, | “ Blessed be thou, O Holy Spirit, that i speaketh more comfort to my heart than the voice of my oppresors can speak terror to my ears !” Thus, when the Lord brought his witness to be tried, he discovered such a magnanimity, that, as he fell, he con- quered his persecutors. If, in the Christian’s life, there is a light that discovers the spots of the wicked ; so, in the martyr’s heroic grappling with death, there was a heat that scorched past en- during. It was doubtless under this feel- ing that Claverhouse ordered six of his dra- goons to shoot him, ere the last words were out of his mouth ; but his prayers and con- duct had disarmed them from performing such a savage action. They stood motion- less. Fearing for their mutiny, Claver- house snatched a pistol from his own belt, and shot him through the head. * * * And, while his troops slunk from the awful scene, he, like a beast of prey that tramples and howls over a fallen victim, insulted the tender-hearted wife, while she gathered up the shattered head, by taunting jeers ; “ What thinkest thou of thy husband now, woman ?” “ I ever thought meikle good of him,” said she, “ and now more than ever.” He, seeing her courage, said, “ It were but justice to lay thee beside him.” | She replied, “ If ye were permitted, I doubt ! not your cruelty could go that length ; but ! how will ye answer for this morning’s work ?” With a countenance that belied ! his words, he answered, “ To men I can [Death of John Brown. j SCOTS WORTHIES. ! 582 I | be answerable, and as for God I will take him in my own hands.” Thus saying, he hastily put spurs to his horse, and left her with the corpse. She tied up his head with her napkin, composed his body, cover- ed it with her plaid, and, when she had no- thing further to do or contend with, sat down on the ground, drew her children to her, and wept over her mangled husband. The mourners of Priesthill did not long want friends. The report of the foul deed circulated rapidly, creating dismay and ab- horrence. Who now could think them- selves safe, when John Brown was thus treated, who was not otherwise obnoxious to government than in not attending a curate several miles distant? The first who arrived on the spot was David Steel’s wife, one w T ell fitted to comfort in the most trying dispensation. She ran up to the group, and throwing her arms around them, | saluted Isabel thus, “Wow, woman! and has your master been taken from your i head this day; and has God taken you and your children under his own care, say- ing, T will be a husband to the widow, and a father to the fatherless ?’ No wonder though ye were overcome and astonished at his doings.” This salutation aroused and strengthened the widow. She remem- bered the words of Mr Peden, and she arose from the ground to search out the | linen he had warned her to prepare, j About this time David Steel, and William j Steel with his wife, arrived, and assisted I Isabel to bring in and wrap up the pre- cious dust. All was done, while the silence of death reigned over the household. As was said of the proto-martyr Stephen, devout men carried him to his burial. In like manner was John Brown carried forth and laid in his grave, on the very spot where he fell. The poor widow of Priesthill and her children- did inherit the earth, and had a name long after that of her oppressors was not. — About fifty years ago a gentleman, riding to Edinburgh, fell into conversation j with a respectable-looking countrywoman on the road, and learning that she was a grand-daughter of John Brown, he on that account made her ride behind him into the city. So much was the memory of the Christian Carrier respected. And what was a proof of the harmony of his family, she could not tell whether she was of the first or second wife’s children. None of them now reside at Priesthill ; but their house stands, and the broad flat stone that covers the Martyr’s grave, is shown, with this inscription : — In death’s cold bed, the dusty part here lies Of one who did the earth as dust despise: Here in this place from earth he took departure ; Now' he has got the garland of the martyr. Butcher’d by Clavers and his bloody band, Raging most rav’nously o’er all the land. Only for owning Christ's supremacy, Wickedly wTong’d by encroaching tyranny. Nothing how r near so ever he to good Esteem’d, nor dear for any truth his blood. JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. j John Nisbet was born about the year 1627. He was the son of James Nisbet, and lineally descended from one Murdoch j ! Nisbet in Hardhill, who, about the year | 1500, joined those called the Lollards of Kyle. When a persecution arose against them, he fled over the seas, carrying with him a copy of the New Testament in JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. 583 ! manuscript. Some time after, he re- turned home, digged a vault below his own house, into which he often retired; there serving God, reading his new book, and instructing such as had access to him. When somewhat advanced in years, Nisbet, having the advantage of being tall, athletic and well formed in person, of a bold and daring spirit, went abroad and joined the army, which was of great use to him afterwards. Having spent some time in foreign countries, he return- ed to Scotland, and swore the covenants, when king Charles, at his coronation, swore them at Scoone, in 1650. After this, Nisbet, leaving the army, came home and married one Margaret Law, who proved an excellent wife, by whom he had several children ; three of whom survived himself, viz., Hugh, James, and Alexander. In the month of December, 1688, his wife died on the eighth day of her sickness, and was buried in Stonehouse churchyard. This behoved to be done in the night, that it might be concealed; because no one would do it, save such as were under hid- ings during the day. The curate obtain- ing knowledge of it, threatened to raise the j body, burn it, or cast it to the dogs ; but j some of the persecuted party sent him a letter, assuring him, that if he touched these graves, they would burn him and his family, and all he had ; so he forbore. * Nisbet early applied himself to the study of the Holy Scriptures, which, through the grace of God, was so effectual, that he not only became well acquainted with the most interesting parts of practical religion, but also attained no small degree of knowledge in points of principle, which proved of un- speakable advantage to him in the after part of his life, in maintaining the testi- mony of that day. He married again, and entered upon the farm of Hardhill, in the parish of Loudon, in which station he behaved with much dis- cretion and prudence. No sooner did prelacy and erastianism appear on the field, in opposition to our ancient and laud- able form of church-government, at the restoration of Charles II., than he joined the Presbyterians. Having in 1664, got a child baptized by one of the ejected ministers, — as they were then called, — the incumbent or curate of the parish was so enraged, that he declared his resolution from the pulpit, to excommunicate Nisbet i next Lord’s day. But behold the Lord’s hand interposed here ; for before that day came the curate was in eternity. This gentleman, being always active for religion, and a great encourager of field- meetings, was, with the rest of Christ’s | faithful witnesses, obliged to go without the j camp bearing, his reproach. When that faithful remnant assembled together and I! renewed the covenant at Lanark, 1666, his conscience summoned him out to join them in that particular circumstance : which being known, and threatened for such an action, he resolved to follow these perse- cuted people, and so kept with them in arms till their defeat, upon the 28th of November, at Pentland hills, at which fight he behaved with great courage and resolution. He fought till he was so ! wounded, that he was stripped for dead I among the slain ; and yet such was the j providence of God, that he was preserved. He had espoused Christ’s cause by de- liberate choice, and was indeed of an ex- cellent spirit ; and, as Solomon says, “ more | excellent than his neighbour,” — his natural temper w T as likewise noble and generous. As he was travelling through a moor, on a snowy day, one of his old neighbours, who was seeking sheep, met him, and cried out, “ O Hardhill, are you yet alive ? I was told you were going in a pilgrim’s habit, and that your bairns were begging ; and yet I see you look as well as ever! ” Then taking out a rix-dollar, he offered it to him. SCOTS WORTHIES. 584 Nisbet seeing this, took out a ducat, and offered it to him, saying, “ I will have none of yours, but will give you if you please ; for you may see that nothing is wanting to him that fears the Lord, and I would never have thought that you — calling him by his name — would have gone so far with the enemies of God, as to sell your conscience to save your gear, &c. Take warning, H., go home and mourn for that, and all }^our other sins, before God ; for, if mercy do not prevent, you will certainly perish.” The poor man thanked him, put up his money, and went home. After this remarkable escape he returned home, where probably he continued till the year 1679. His fame for courage, wisdom, and resolution, among the sufferers, when j that party who were assembled near Lou- don-hill to hear the gospel, June 1, came in view of an engagement with Claver- house, who attacked them that day at Drumclog, caused him to be sent for by one Woodburn in the Mains of Lou- don, to come to their assistance. But be- j fore they got half-way, they heard the pla- j toons of the engagement, and the action | was just terminating as they arrived. Upon | their approach, Hardhill — for so he was commonly called — cried to them to jump the ditch, and get over upon the enemy, sword in hand; which they did with so great resolution and success, that in a little they obtained a complete victory over the enemy, in which Hardhill had no small share, by his vigorous activity in the latter end of that skirmish. The suffering party, knowing now that they were fully exposed to the rage and resentment of their bloody persecuting foes, resolved to abide together; and for that purpose sent a party to Glasgow in pursuit of the enemy, among whom was Hardhill. After which, he continued with them, and was of no small advantage to the honest party, till that fatal day, June 22d, that they fled and fell before the enemy at Bothwell Bridge. Here, says Wodrow, he was a captain, if I mistake not. And, being sent with his party, along with those who defended the bridge, he fought with great gallantry, and stood as long as any | man would stand by him, and then made his retreat just in time to escape. After Bothwell, he was denounced a rebel, and a large reward offered to such as would apprehend him. At which time the enemy seized all that he had, stripped his wife and four children turning them out of doors, whereby he was brought to the condition of those mentioned in Heb. xi. 38 : “ They wandered about in deserts and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.” Thus he lived for near the space of five years, suffering all manner of hardships, not accepting deliverance, that he might preserve to himself the free enjoy- ment of the gospel, faithfully preached in the j fields. And, being a man of a public spirit, a great observer of fellowship-meetings — alas ! a duty too much neglected, — and very staunch upon points of testimony, he be- came very popular among the more faithful part of our sufferers, and was by them often employed as one of their commissioners to their general meetings, which they had es- tablished some years before, that they might the better understand the mind of one another in carrying on a testimony in that broken state. One thing very remarkable was, — on the Sabbath night (being that day w r eek I before he was taken,) as he and four more ' were travelling, it being very dark, no wind, j j but a thick small rain, — behold ! suddenly j ! the clouds clave asunder towards east and I west, over their heads, and a light sprang I out beyond that of the sun, which last- ed about the space of two minutes. They heard a noise, and were much amazed, saying one to another, What may that mean ? but Nisbet returned no answer, JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. 585 same parish; George Woodburn, a brother only uttering three deep groans. One of them asked him, what it might mean ? He said, “We know not well at present, but within a little we shall know better ; yet we have a more sure word of prophecy, unto which we would do well to take heed;” and then he groaned again, saying, “As for me, I am ready to live or to die for him, as He in his providence shall call me to it, and bear me through in it; and although I have suffered much from prelates, and false friends, these twenty- one years, yet now, I would not for a thousand worlds I had done otherwise ; and if the Lord spare me, I will be more zealous for his precious truths ; and if not I am ready to seal his cause with my blood, for I have longed for it these sixteen years, and it may be I will ere long get it to do. Welcome be his will, and if he help me through with it, I shall praise him to all eternity !” This made them all wonder, he being a very reserved man ; for, although a strict observer of the Sabbath, a great examiner of the Scripture, and a great wrestler in prayer, yet so little was he ac- customed to refer to his own case, that few knew how it was with him, until he came to prison. All this and more could not escape the knowledge of the managers, as is evident from Earls ton’s answers before the council, 1683 ; and we find, that one of the arti- cles that John Richmond suffered for, at the cross of Glasgow, March 19, 1684, was his being in company with Nisbet. This made the search after him and other suf- ferers more desperate. Whereupon, in the month of Novembef, 1683, having retired, amongst other of his lurking-places, to a certain house called Midland, in the parish of Fenwick, where were assembled for prayer and other religious exercises, on a Saturday night, other three of his faith- ful brethren, viz., Peter Gemmel, a young- er brother of the house of Horsehill, in the t of the Woodburns, in the moors of Loudon ; | and one John Fergushill from Tarbolton. j Upon notice that lieutenant Nisbet and a party of colonel Buchan’s dragoons were out in quest of the wanderers — as they were sometimes called, — they resolved on the Sabbath morning to depart. But old John Fergushill, not being able to go by reason of some infirmities, they were obli- ged to turn back with him, after they had gone a little way from the house, and were the same day apprehended, — the way and manner of which, with, his answers both at Ayr and before the council at Edinburgh, j as they stand in an old manuscript given in | his own hand, while he was their prisoner, is as follows : — “ First, when the enemy came within sight of the house — we seeing no way of escape — j John Fergushill went to the far end of the j house, and the other two and I followed. | And ere we were well at the far end of the j house, SQme of the enemy were in the house, j And then, in a little after, they came and | put in their horses, and went to and fro in j the house for more than an hour ; and we i four still at the far end of the house ; and | we resolved with one another to keep close | till they should just come on us ; and if it ! had pleased the Lord to have hid us there, | we resolved not to have owned them ; but ! if they found us out, we thought to fight, saying to each other, it was death at length. They got all out of the house, and had their j horses drawn forth; but in a little they came back,* tittling one to another; and '* Here it was commonly said, that after the enemy went off at first, they met with two persons, one of whom told them, they were good seekers, but ill finders, or somewhat to that purpose ; which made them return. It has also been said, that one of these men confessed this at his death. However this be, people could not help observing, that not many years ago three of the offspring of the other person blamed, lost their lives by fire, near the same place where these three gallant martyrs were 4 E _____ — .1 586 SCOTS WORTHIES. at last cried for a candle to search the house with ; and came within a yard of us, with a light in their hand. According to our former resolution, we resisted them, haying only three shots, and one of them misgiving, and they fired about twenty-four at us ; and when w T e had nothing else, we clubbed our guns, till two of them were quite broke, and then went in grips with some of them; and when they saw they could not prevail, they all cried, to go out and set fire to the house. Upon which we went out after them, and I received six wounds in the going out. After which, they getting notice what I was, some of them cried out to spare my life, for the council had offered 3000 merks for me. So they brought me towards the end of the yard, and tied my hands behind my back, having shot the other three to death. He that commanded them scoffingly asked me, What I thought of myself now ^ I smiled, and said, I had full contentment with my lot ; but thought that I was at a loss, that I was in time, and my brethren in eternity. At which he swore, he had reserved my life for a further judgment to me. When we were going towards Kilmarnock, the lieutenant,— who was a cousin of my own, — called for me ; and he and I went before the rest, and discoursed soberly about several things. I was free in telling him what I held to be sin, and what I held to be duty ; and when we came to Kilmarnock tolbooth, he caused slack my hands a little, and inquired if I desired my wounds dressed ; and, at the desire of some friends in the town, he caused bring in straw and some clothes for my friend John Gemmel* and me to lie upon, but killed. Whether it had any reference to that God knoweth ; we cannot determine. Only we may say : — “ The Lord is known by the judgment he executeth,” Ps. ix. 16. * This John Gemmel was brother to the martyr who was killed at Midland, and being lying of a i would not suffer us to cast off our clothes. On Monday, on the way to Ayr, he raged against me, and said that I had the blood of the three men on my head that were killed yesterday ; and that I was guilty of and the cause of all the troubles that were come on the poor barony of Cunning- ham, first and last. But when we came near the town, he called me out from the rest, and soberly asked me, What he should say to the superior officers in my behalf ? I told him, that if the Lord would keep me from wronging truth, I was at a point already in what he put me to, as to suffering. When we first entered the tol- booth of Ayr, there came two, and asked some things at me, but they were to little purpose. Then I was taken out with a guard, and brought before Buchan. He asked me, 1. If Iwas at the conventicle? I told him, I looked upon it as my duty. fever in a house in the same parish called Der- wholling, he was that day apprehended by some of the same party, together with Thomas Wylie, and his son William, for reset. They were all taken to Ayr, where the said Thomas Wylie died. While in Ayr, it is said that John Gemmel dreamed one night that he should be banished, and his fel- low-sufferer Hardhill should be hanged ; which ac- cordingly came to pass. — They were taken to Edinburgh, and examined, and the foresaid William Wylie was asked to take the oath of allegiance, but refused. They ordered him to take the test oath; this he refused also. They asked his reasons. He said, he had taken more oaths already than he had well kept, and if there should come a change of government, where stood he then : Bishop Paterson’s brother came, and clapping his hand on his shoulder, said, Thomas, as sure as God is in the heavens, you’ll never see a change of govern- i ment. But in this he proved a false prophet. ' However, he and John G§mmel were, with eleven j more, banished to Barbadoes, and sold for slaves, where they continued for about three years, and at last purchased their liberty and returned home at the Revolution. The first known person they saw, after their landing at Irvine, was lieutenant Nisbet, by whom they had been apprehended. — It may be interesting to the reader to know, that the above- mentioned John Gemmel was great-grand-uncle , to Robert Pollok, author of the “ Course of Time.” | • i JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. 587 1 2. How many armed were there ? I told ! him, I went to hear the gospel preached, | and not to take up the account of what men | were there. 3. Where away went they ? I told him, It was more than I could tell. 1 4. Do you own the king ? I told him, while he owned the way and work of God, I thought myself bound both to own and fight for him ; but when he quitted the way of God, I thought I was obliged to quit him. 5. Will you own the duke of York as king ? I told him, I would not ; for it was both against my principles and the laws of the nation. 6. Were you clear to join with Argyle ? I said, No. I He held me long, and spake of many things. We had the muster through hands, popery, prelacy, presbyterianism, j malignants, defensive and offensive arms, i there being none in the room but he and I. ! I thought it remarkable that all the time from Sabbath to this present, I had and have as much peace and quietness of | mind as ever in my life. 0 help me to praise him ! for he alone did it. Now. my dear friends and acquaintances, cease not to pray for me while I am in the body ; ! for I may say I fear nothing but that ; through weakness I wrong the truth. And my last advice is, that ye be more diligent in following Christian duties. Alas ! that I was not more sincere, zealous, and for- ward, for his work and cause in my day. Cease to be jealous one of another, and only let self-examination be more studied; and this, through his blessing, shall open a door to more of a Christian soul exercise, and keep away vain jang- ling. “ When I came to Edinburgh, I was the first night kept in the guard-house. The next night I was brought into their coun- cil-house, where were present lords Perth, Linlithgow, and one bishop Paterson, with several others. They first said 1 to me, that they looked upon me as il _ one acquainted with all that was done amongst these rebellious persons ; therefore the lords of his majesty’s privy council would take it as a great favour, if I would be free in telling them what I knew that might most conduce to the peace and security of the nation. I told them, that when I came to particulars I should speak nothing but truth, for I was more afraid to lie than to die ; but I hoped they would be so far Christians as not to bid me tell anything that would burden my conscience. Then they began thus : — 1. What did ye in your meetings ? I told them, we only sung a part of a psalm, read part of the Scriptures, and prayed time about. 2. Why call ye them fellowship and society meetings ? I wonder why you ask such questions, for these meetings were called so when our Church was in her power. 3. Were there any such meetings at jLat time ? There were in some places of the land. 4. Did the ministers of the place meet with them in these ? Some- times they did, and sometimes they did not 5. What mean you by your general meet- ings, and what do ye at them ? While I was thinking what to answer, one of them- selves told> them more distinctly than I could have done; and jeeringly said, look- ing to me, When they have done, then they distribute their collections. I held my peace all the time. 6. Where keep ye these meetings ? In the wildest moors we can think of. 7. Will you own the king’s authority ? No. 8. What is your reason — you own the Scriptures and your own Con- fession of Faith ? That I do with all my heart. 9. Why do ye not own the king’s authority ? — naming several passages of Scripture, and that in the 23d chapter of the Confession. There is a vast difference ; for he being a Roman Catholic, and I being not only brought up in the Presby- terian principles from my youth, but also sworn against popery. 10. What is that SCOTS WORTHIES. 588 to you, though he be popish, he is not bid- ding you be a papist, nor hindering you to live in your own religion ? The contrary does appear ; for we have not liberty to hear a gospel sermon, but we are taken, put to the hardest of sufferings, and killed. They said it was not so, for we might have the gospel, if our wild principles would suffer us to hear it. I said, they might say so, but the contrary was well known through the land; for ye banished away our faithful ministers, and thrust in such as live rather like profligates than like ministers, so that poor things neither can nor dare join with them. 11. Are ye clear i to join with Argyle ? No. Then one of ! them said, Ye will have no king but Mr James Renwick. and asked, if I conver- sed with any other minister upon the field j than Mr Renwick. I told them, I conver- i sed with no other ; and a number of other ! things passed that were to little purpose, j “ This is a true hint of any material j thing that passed betwixt them and me. | As for their drinking of healths, never one of them spoke of it to me ; neither did any of them bid me pray for their king ; | but they said that they knew I was that | much of a Christian that I would pray for all men. I told them I was bound to pray for all ; but prayer being instituted by a holy God, who is the hearer of prayer, no Christian could pray when every profli- gate bade him ; and it was no advantage to their cause to suffer such a thing. “ How it may be afterwards with me I ; cannot say; for he is a free sovereign, and [ may come and go as he pleases. But this I say, and can affirm, that he has not quarrelled with me since I was a prisoner, but has always waited on to supply me with such consolation and strength as my j necessity required ; and now, when I can- j not lay down my own head, nor lift it i without help, yet of all the cases I ever ' was in I had never more contentment. I can now give the cross of Christ a noble commendation. It was always sweet and pleasant, but never so sweet and pleasant as now. Under all my wanderings, and all my toilings, a prison was so terrifying to me that I could never have been so sure as I would have been. But imme- diately after my apprehension, he so shined on me, and ever since, that he and his cross are to me far beyond whatever he was before. Therefore, let none scare or stand at a distance from their duty for fear of the cross ; for now I can say from expe- rience, that it is as easy, yea, and more sweet, to lie in prison in irons, than it is to be at liberty. But I must forbear at present.” Upon the 26th, he was ordered by the council to be prosecuted before the justi- ciary. Accordingly, on the 30th, he was before the justiciary, and arraigned, his own confession being the only proof against him, which runs thus : — “ John Nisbet of i Hardhill, prisoner, confesses, when examined j before the council, that he was at Drum- ! clog, had arms, and made use of them j against the king’s forces; that he was at J Glasgow; and that he was at a field-meet- | ing within these two months, betwixt Eaglesham and Kilbride,” &c. ; which j being read, he adhered to, but refused to subscribe it. The jury brought him in guilty, and the lords sentenced him to be executed at the Grassmarket, December 4, betwixt two and four in the afternoon, and his lands, goods, and gear, to be forfeited to the king. It was inserted by the council in his confession, that the reason why he could not join with Argyle was, that one Cleland told him that Argyle and his party were against all kingly government. Mr Wod- row thinks this false, and that it was only foisted in by the clerk of the council — it not being the first time that things of this nature had been done by them. But he j JOHN N1SBET OF HARDHILL. happens to have been in a mistake here ; for in one of Hardhill’s papers, in MS., left behind him in way of testimony, he gives this as the first reason for his not joining with Argyle ; and the second was to the same purpose with what Mr Wod- row has observed, viz., because the societies could not espouse his declaration, as the state of the quarrel was not concerted according to the ancient plea of the Scot- tish Covenanters, and because it opened a door to a sinful confederacy. His sentence was accordingly executed ; he appeared upon the scaffold with a great deal of courage and Christian com- posure, and died in much assurance, and with a joy which none of his persecutors could interfere with. It was affirmed by some who were present at his execution, that the scaffold or gibbet gave way and came down, which made some present flat- ter themselves that, by some laws in being, he had saved his life, as they used to say in such cases. But behold a disappointment here, for he behoved not to escape so, for to this end he was born. Immediately all was replaced, and the martyr executed. TESTIMONY OF JOHN NISBET. “ I have always thought that to live for Christ, and die for Christ, is a sufficient testimony for truth ; yet now when I am within a few hours of eternity, to prevent mistakes, to satisfy my dear friends, and let them know how it is with me, and to let the world know what I die witnessing for, and testifying against, I judge it proper to leave a few lines behind me. “ As for myself, it hath pleased the Lord Jehovah, of his superabundant goodness and infinite mercy, powerfully to determine 589 my heart to close with and embrace the Lord Jesus Christ, as he is made offer of in the everlasting gospel, for my King, Priest, and Prophet. And that conquest captivating of me to his obedience, who was an heir of wrath, and a mass of sin and sinful corruption, is the fruit of elect- ing love, according as it is manifested in the covenant of free, free, free grace, will evidently appear from these Scriptures fol- lowing ; which he, by the power and concur- rence of his Holy Spirit, hath made effec- tual to the convincing, converting, strength- ening, and enabling of me to be his, and to be for him through well and through wo, through good report, and through bad report; and they are so many sweet cor- dials to my soul, when stepping out of time into eternity. “ Psal. cx. 3. 4 Thy people shall be will- ing in the day of thy power.’ Rom. ix. 11. 4 For the children being not yet born ; neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth.’ Ver. 15. 4 For he saith to Moses, (see Exod. xxxiii. 19.) I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy ; and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.’ Yer. 16. 4 So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that run- neth, but of God that showeth mercy.’ 2 Thes. ii. 13. 4 God hath from the begin- ning chosen you to salvation, through sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of the truth.’ Prov. viii. 30. 4 Then was I by him, as one brought up with him : and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him. Rejoicing in the habitable part of his earth, and my delights were with the sons of men. Now, therefore,’ &c., to verse 36. Rom. viii. 29. 4 For whom he did foreknow, he also did pre- destinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the first-born among many brethren. Moreover whom he | SCOTS WORTHIES. 590 did predestinate, them he also called ; and whom he called, them he also justified; and whom he justified, them he also glori- fied. 5 Ver. 35. 4 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? 5 Yer. 37. ‘ Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us. 5 Eph. i. 13. £ In whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation : in whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise, 5 ver. 14. 4 Which is the earnest of our inheritance, until the re- demption of the purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory. 5 2 Tim. i. 9. ; Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling: not according to our works, hut according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus, before the world began. 5 Tit. iii. 5. 6 Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regenera- tion, and renewing of the Holy Ghost. 5 Yer. 6. 4 Which he shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour. 5 1 Cor. i. 9. £ God is faithful, by whom ye were called into the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord. 5 Rom. iii. 24. : Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ; whom he has set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God. 5 And chap. iv. 6, £ Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works. 5 Heb. ix. 14. £ How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God. 5 2 Cor. v. 19. £ To wit, that God was in Christ, recon- ciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them. 5 Eph. iii. 17. £ That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that ye being rooted and grounded in love. 5 &c. Gal. ii. 16. £ Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ ; even we have believed in Jesus, that we might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law ; for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified. 5 Rom. v. 17. £ For by one man’s offence, death reigned by one, much more they which receive abundance of grace, and of the gift of righteousness, shall reign in life by one Jesus Christ. 5 John vi. 37. 4 All that the Father giveth me, shall come to me ; and him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out. 5 Yer. 39. 4 And this is the Father’s will which hath sent me, that of all which he hath given me, I should lose nothing, but should raise it up again at the last day. 5 Rom. xiv. 17. 4 For the king- dom of heaven is not meat and drink, hut righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. 5 Chap. viii. 1 . £ There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit, 5 1 John v. 13. 4 These things have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God, that ye may know that ye have eter- nal life, and that ye may believe on the name of the Son of God. 5 Eph. iv. 23. 4 And be renewed in the spirit of your mind. 5 Philip, iii. 9. 4 And be found in him, not having mine own righteousness which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith. 5 Ver. 10. 4 That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death. 5 Rom. vi. 4. 4 Therefore we are buried with him by baptism unto death, that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. 591 of the Father : even so we also should walk in newness of life.’ Prov. iv. 18. ! * But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.’ Philip, i. 6. 4 Be confi- dent of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.’ Psalm lxxxix. 33. 4 Nevertheless, my loving-kind- ness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail. My cove- nant will I not break, nor alter the thing that is gone out of my lips.’ Rom. v. 4 Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.’ 1 Pet. i. 5. 4 Who are kept by the power of God, through faith unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last time.’ Rom. viii. 17. 4 And if children, then heirs, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ: if so be that we suffer with him, that we also may be glorified together.’ Chap. i. 16. 4 For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ ; for it is the power of God unto salvation, to every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.’ Col. 1. 29. 4 To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mys- tery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.’ Matth. xi. 29. 4 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart ; and ye shall find rest unto your souls.’ Psalm lv. 22. * Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee ; he will never suffer the righteous to be moved.’ 2 Cor. x. 4. 4 For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God, to the pulling down of strongholds.’ Psalm lvii. 2. 4 I will cry unto God most high ; unto God that performed all things for me.’ Prov. xxvii. 13. 4 He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them, shall have mercy.’ Psalm lix. 16. 4 But I will sing of thy power ; yea, I will sing aloud of thy mercy in the morning ; for thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble. Unto thee, O my strength, will I sing: for God is my defence and the God of my mercy.’ Psalm lxviii. 18. Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive ; thou hast received gifts for men ; yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell among them.’ Yer. 19. 4 Blessed be the Lord who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salva- tion. Selah.’ Ver. 20. 4 He that is our God, is the God of salvation; and unto God the Lord belong the issues from death.’ 2 Cor. v. 1. 4 For we know, that if our j earthly house of this tabernacle were dis* J solved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the hea- vens.’ Heb. xii. 23. 4 To the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Medi- ator,’ &c. Psalm xlv. 1, to 9. John i. 1, to 15., and chap, xviii. throughout. Isa. !j liii. to the end, with many more. 44 Let none reflect upon me for citing so much ; for the Scripture hath been to me from my youth the living oracles of his divine and sacred lips. When I was cry- ing, 4 what shall I do to be saved ? ’ and j when I was saying, 4 how shall I know the ; way of the Lord that I may walk therein ?’ i then his word was 4 a light to my feet, and a lamp to my path,’ exhorting me as it is j in Isa. lv. 4 Ho every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters : and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat: yea, come buy wine and milk, without money and without price. Wherefore do ye spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not ? hearken diligently unto me, and eat 592 SCOTS WORTHIES. ye that which is good ; and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear and come unto me, hear and your soul shall live: and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David. Behold I have given him for a witness to the people, a leader and com- mander to the people. Behold thou shalt call a nation that thou knowest not, and nations that knew not thee shall run unto thee, because of the Lord thy God, and for the holy One of Israel ; for he hath glori- fied thee. Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.’ John vi. i 35. ‘And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life ; he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.’ Rev. iii. 20. ‘ Be- hold I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me.’ Jer. iii. ‘ Only acknowledge thine iniquity, that thou hast transgressed against the Lord thy God, and hast scattered thy ways to the stran- gers under every green tree, and ye have not obeyed my voice, saith the Lord. Turn, O backsliding children, saith the Lord, for I am married unto you : and I will take you, one of a city, and two of a family; and I will bring you to Zion.’ Yer. 22. ‘ Return ye backsliding children, and I will heal your backslidings : behold, we come unto thee, for thou art the Lord our God. Truly in vain is salvation hoped for from the hills, and from the multitude of mountains ; truly in the Lord our God is the salvation of Israel.’ Hosea xiv. 1. ‘ O Israel, return unto the Lord thy God, for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity. Take with you words, and turn unto the Lord, say unto him, take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously, so will we ren- der the calves of our lips.’ Jer. xxxi. 18. ‘ I have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning himself thus, Thou hast chastised me, and I was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke : Turn thou me, and I shall be turned: for thou art the Lord my God.’ John xiv. 6. ‘ Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life : no man cometh unto the Father but by me.’ Rev. xxii. 17. ‘ And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst, Come. And whosoever will, let him take of the water of fife freely.’ “ When I was grappling with sin, Satan, [ and the world, and my own wicked and \ deceitful heart, the enemies of my salva- j tion, his words were as props and pillars to me : so that though I got my wounds, and was oft sorely beat ; yet at the last I came off victorious, by the help of him who is God all-sufficient to all who, through grace, lay hold on him for help. It is by him, that I have fought the good fight, that I have finished my course, and that I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteous- ness, which the Lord the righteous Judge shall give me at that day. It is by him ; shining in his word, that I know all my manifold sins and transgressions are freely pardoned, and that I have a just right and title to what is expressed, 1 Cor. i. 30. So that now the guilt and condemning power I of sin being fully pardoned by a judicial act of God’s free and sovereign grace, through the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ, especially applied and witnessed unto by the Holy Spirit, upon, and to my spirit, there is no room left me to doubt any more of my being freely justified by him, of my being in union with him, and JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. in a state of grace; or the power, dominion, and filth of sin, original and actual, being subdued, taken off, and washed away by the virtue of the spirit of sanctification, being created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works, and being sanctified through- but in soul, body, and spirit, and made meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light by Him who loved me, and gave himself to the death for me, and redeemed me by power and price. “ Now, being in such a case of com- munion with him, I am pained till I be freed of the remains of a body of sin and death, till I be freed of the world and all things therein, and also of this natural life, and be possessed of himself, and with him- self in his eternal inheritance, which is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away ; a place which he hath provided for all whom he hath chosen, for all whom he hath called, for all whom he hath justi- fied, for all whom he hath sanctified : O to be there, where I shall sin no more, where I shall be tempted no more, neither feel any more of the withdrawings of his Spirit’s presence, and light of his glorious countenance ; but shall be ever with him, see him as he is, and serve him for ever and ever. “ Now, my dear friends in Christ, I have always, since the public resolutioners were for bringing in the malignants and their interest, thought it my duty to join with the Lord’s people, in witnessing against these sinful courses; and now we see clearly that it has ended in nothing less than making captains that we may return to Egypt, by the open doors, that are made wide to bring in popery, and set up idol- atry in the Lord’s covenanted land, to de- file it, and thereby to provoke him to pour fierce wrath upon it, and the inhabitants thereof. Wherefore, it is the unquestion- able and indispensable duty of all who have any love to God, to his Son the Lord Jesus 593 Christ, to the thriving of his kingdom, to their own soul’s salvation, and to the fol- lowing generation, to act a close, con- stant, and needy dependence on the Lord Jehovah’s all-sufficiency, for light, for counsel, for direction, for strength and ability, to make conscience in bearing testimony for him, for his persecuted truth, work, and interest, in these lands, which was sworn to with uplifted hands to God the searcher of hearts : and O that herein all could act a faithful part for him who hath done so much for poor wretched us ! when we were lying, dying, and rotting in our blood-red sins, when passing by us with his love and life-giving visit, saying unto us, Live, live. And on the other hand, to witness faithfully, constantly, and conscientiously, against all that the ene- mies have done, or are doing, to the over- throw of the glorious work of Reformation; and banishing Christ out of these lands, by robbing him of his crown-rights, (for he, and he alone, is Head of his own Church,) and by burning the covenants, which are the marriage bond betwixt him and these lands ; and by persecuting his gospel-ministers and members, who are labouring to keep their garments clean, and their hands free of all the corruptions and compliances in these evil times : and however it be, that many, both ministers and professors, are turning their backs upon Christ and his cross, reproaching and casting dirt upon you and the testimony of the day ; yet let not this weaken your hands, stumble or discourage you from going on in the strength of the Lord your God, to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints, and witness a good confession for him and his cause, resisting unto blood, striving against sin : and herein let your souls possess themselves with patience ; for I assure you, it will not be long to the fourth watch ; and then he will come with gar- ments dyed in blood, to raise up saviours 4 F — _l 594 SCOTS WORTHIES. upon the mount of Zion, to judge the mount of Esau; and then the house of Jacob and Joseph shall be for fire, and the malignants, prelates and papists, shall be stubble, the flame whereof shall be great. “ But my generation-work being done with my time, I go to him who loved me, and washed me from all my sins ; to him who has counted me worthy to suffer for his name : and 0 that I had many lives to lay down for him, and much blood to seal his noble and honourable cause with, even he who graciously pitied, and hath now given me the full assurance of being a member of his church triumphant, which is the new Jerusalem, and the city of the living God ! “ I die adhering to the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament as the undoubted word of God, an unerring rule of faith and manners, and a firm foundation for princi- ple and practice in the ways of godliness and true holiness. 2 Tim. iii. 16. 4 All Scripture is given by inspiration of God; and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteous- ness. And the Confession of Faith, Cate- chisms Larger and Shorter, as agreeable thereunto, and safely founded thereupon. 2 Tim. i. 13. 4 Hold fast the form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.’ Heb. vi. 1. 4 Therefore leaving the princi- ples of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection, not laying again the foun- dation of repentance from dead works, and of faith towards God.’ The Sum of Sav- ing Knowledge, the Directory for Church Government, in her doctrine, worship, and discipline. I own all the attained-unto pieces of reformation in the Church of Scotland, particularly betwixt the years 1638 and 1649 ; the Covenants National and Solemn League ; the Acknowledg- ment of Sins and Engagement to Duties. I own the protestation given by the remon- ! strators against the Public Resolutions, the Apologetical Declaration, and all the declarations hitherto emitted at Ruther- glen, Sanquhar, and Lanark ; with all , dying speeches and testimonies of those who have sealed the truth with their blood, i so far as they agree with God’s holy word. 44 I own all the appearances in arms that have been at Pentland, Drumclog, Both- well, Airsmoss, and elsewhere, against God’s stated enemies, and the enemies of the gospel, as it hath been preached by all Christ’s faithful ambassadors in Scotland, since the Reformation ; and now by that faithful servant of Christ, Mr James Ren- wick ; and the testimony of the day as it is stated and carried on by him and his adhe- rents at home and abroad; and kingly government, as appointed and emitted in the word of God, and entering covenant ways, and with covenant qualifications. But I am persuaded Scotland’s covenanted God will cut off the name of the Stuarts, because they have stated themselves against religion, reformation, and the thriving of Christ’s kingdom and kingly government in these lands. And although men idolize them much now, yet ere long there shall none of them be to tyrannize in covenanted Britain any more. 44 On the other hand I die protesting against, and disowning popery in all its superstitious bigotry and bloody cruelty; and prelacy the mother of popery; and all ! that depends upon that hierarchy; and the unhinging and overthrowing of the glorious work of Reformation, by their woful Act Rescissory: burning the Cove- nant, turning out gospel-ministers, filling their rooms with profane, erroneous cu- rates, and setting up Charles Stuart to be j head of the church ; and so robbing Christ of his royal and incommunicable preroga- tives, by their cursed act of supremacy. 44 I protest against the putting malig- nants in places of power and trust in jl JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. 595 j church, state, and armies ; and all decla- ! rations anywhere published tending there- unto ; and against all paying of stent, cess, and locality, to strengthen the enemy’s hands to persecute Christ’s people in fields, prisons, or any other ways ; and robbing, plundering, or spoiling them of their goods ; and all raising of the hue and cry after them ; and all sinful oaths, such as the oath of supremacy, the bond of peace, the test, the oath of conformity, the abjuration oath, and the oath super inquirendis. 44 I die testifying against the woful indul- gences, the fruits and consequences of which have so much strengthened the ene- my, increased our divisions, widened our breaches, deadened the spirits, and cooled ! the zeal of the Lord’s people, stumbled and offended the weak, and in a great measure retarded the carrying on of a testimony for truth, by condemning the things contended for, and reproaching these that contend for truth. “ Wherefore I leave my testimony against all the accepters thereof, and all ministers and professors, who are any way guilty of any of the woful defections, and sinful com- pliances with the enemies of truth, or any way guilty of condemning, reproaching, and ridiculing Mr James Renwick, and his correspondents, or the testimony which they are carrying on. And let all such ministers and professors know that this 1 their practice, at the best, is a denying of Christ, and a shifting of his cross ; there- | fore, let them take warning, and ponder these Scriptures. Matth. x. 32. 4 Whoso- ever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I also confess before my Father who is in heaven.’ Ver. 33. 4 But whoso- ever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father who is in heaven.’ (See Luke xii. 8, 9.) Yer. 37. 4 He that loveth father and mother more than me, is not worthy of me ; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me.’ Ver. 38. 4 And he that taketh not his cross, and followetli after me, is not worthy of me.’ Matth. xvi. 24. 4 Then said Jesus unto his disci- ples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.’ (See Mark viii. 34.) Mark viii. 35. 4 For whosoever will save his life, shall lose it ; but whosoever shall lose his life, for my sake and the gospel’s, the same shall save it.’ (See Matth x. 49. also chap. xvi. 25.) Matth. xvi. 26, 4 For j what is a man profited if he shall gain the i whole world and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul V (See Mark viii. 36, 37.) Mark viii. 38. 4 Whosoever therefore shall be ashamed of me and my words, of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father, with the holy angels.’ Isa. viii. 11. 4 For the Lord spake thus to me with a strong hand, and in- structed me, that I should not walk in the way of this people, saying, Say ye not, A confederacy, to all them to whom this peo- ple shall say, A confederacy ; neither fear ye their fear, or be afraid. Sanctify the Lord of hosts himself, and let him be your fear, and let him be your dread. And he shall be for a sanctuary : but for a stone of stumbling, and for a rock of offence to both the houses of Israel, and for a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem. And many among them shall stumble and fall, and be 1 broken, and be snared, and be taken,’ (as it is expressed ver. 9, 10.) Prov. 1. 10. 4 My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. If they say, Come with us, let us lay wait for blood, let us lurk privily for the innocent without cause. Let us swal- low them up alive as the grave, and whole as those that go down into the pit. We shall find all precious substance, we j 1 shall fill our houses with spoil. Cast in thy lot among us, let us all have one ! purse. My son, walk not thou in the 1 596 SCOTS WORTHIES. way with them, refrain thy foot from their path. F or their feet run to evil, and make haste to shed blood.’ Isa. v. 20. ‘Wo unto them that call evil good, and good evil ; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness ; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter.’ Ver. 21. ‘Wo unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight.’ Ver. 23. ‘ Which justify the wicked for reward, and take away the righteousness of the righteous from him.’ Yer. 24. ‘ There- fore as the fire devoureth the stubble, and the flame consumeth the chaff; so their root shall be rottenness, and their blossom shall go up as dust, because they have cast away the law of the Lord of Hosts, and despised the word of the Holy One of Israel.’ Prov. xvii. 15. ‘ He that justifieth the wicked, and he that condemneth the just, even they both are abomination to the Lord.’ Amos v. 10. ‘ They hate him that rebuketh in the gate, and they abhor him that speaketh uprightly.’ Gal. ii. 18. ‘For if I build again the things which I destroyed, I make myself a transgressor.’ Psalm 1. 16. ‘ But unto the wicked, God saith, What hast thou to do to declare my statutes, or that thou shouldst take my covenant in thy mouth?’ Ver. 17. ‘ See- ing thou hatest instruction, and castest my words behind thee.’ Yer. 18. ‘ When thou sawest a thief, thou consentedst with ! him, and hast been partaker with adul- j terers.’ Yer. 19. ‘ Thou givest thy mouth | to evil, and thy tongue frameth deceit.’ j Ver. 20. Thou sittest and speakest against I thy brother, thou slanderest thy own ! mother’s son.’ Ver. 21. ‘ These things | hast thou done, and I kept silence ; thou | thoughtest that I was altogether such a one | as thyself ; but I will reprove thee, and j set them in order before thine eyes.’ The | Prophecy of Obadiah throughout, the first and last chapters of Isaiah to the end, with I many more. “ Now, it is my last request and soul’s desire that all who have made Moses’ choice, ‘ to suffer affliction with the people of God, rather than enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season;’ and are true lovers of Zion’s righteous cause ; that you set much time apart, and mourn, and afflict your souls, for your original sin, heart-plagues, sins of persons and families, sins of kings and kingdoms ; and for all the dreadful apostasies, hateful compliances, and sinful sidings of ministers and people, with the enemies of God and godliness, and mourn that there is not more faithfulness and zeal for the cause of God amongst his people. Read Psalm 1., Ezra ix., Neh. ix., Jer. ix., Lam. iii., and Ezek. ix. to the end. “ My dear friends, forbear your conten- tions and censuring one of another; sym- pathize with and love one another, for this is his commandment ; keep up your sweet fellowship-meetings, and desirable general meetings, with which my soul has been often refreshed; and what is agitated in them for carrying on of a testimony for truth, and against defections, let it be managed with scripture light for direction, and with zeal tempered with knowledge, and with the spirit of meekness accom- panied with patience and humility. Be always ready to give a reason of your faith, and be much denied to the world, to your- selves, and to your natural life ; and when God in his providence calls you to lay it down for him, do it cheerfully, and embrace the cross of your sweet Lord Jesus with open arms ; for he will not send any a war- fare on their own charges. “ Take for your rule and encouragement these Scriptures, with others that I leave to your own search. Gal. v. 19. ‘Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these, adultery, fornication, unclean- ness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulation, wrath, strife, j seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, j JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. drunkenness, revellings, and such like ; of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good- ness, faith, meekness, temperance; against such there is no law. And they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts. If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit. Let us not be desirous of vain-glory, provoking one another, envying one another.’ Chap, vi. ver. 7. ‘ Be not deceived, God is not mocked : for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.’ Ver. 8. ‘For he that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption : but he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life ever- lasting.’ Ver. 9. ‘ And let us not be weary in well-doing ; for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.’ Ver. 10. ‘As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them that are of the household of faith.’ Mai. iii. 16. ‘ Then they that feared the Lord, spake often one to another, and the Lord hearkened and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him, for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name.’ Ver. 17. ‘ And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels, and I will spare them as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.’ Ver. 18. ‘ Then shall ye return and dis- cern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not.’ Isaiah iii. 10. ‘ Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well with him ; for they shall eat the fruit of their doings.’ Ver. 11. ‘Wo unto the wicked, it shall be ill with him ; for the reward of his hands shall be given him.’ Ver. 9. ‘ The show of their countenance doth witness against them, and they declare 597 their sin as Sodom, they hide it not: Wo unto their soul, for they have rewarded evil unto themselves.’ And chap. viii. v. 20. ‘ To the law and to the testimony, if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no truth in them.’ Mai. iv. 2. ‘ But unto you that fear my name, shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth and grow up as calves of the stall.’ Isa. viii. 17. ‘ And I will wait upon the Lord, that hideth his face from the house of Jacob, j and I will look for him.’ Phil. i. 27. ‘ Only let your conversation be as it be- cometh the gospel of Christ, that whether I come and see you, or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind, striving for the faith of the gospel.’ Ver. 28. ‘ And in nothing terrified by your adversaries ; which is to them an evident token of per- dition, but to you of salvation, and that of God.’ Ver. 29. ‘For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake.’ Rev. x. 11. ‘ And he said unto me, Thou must prophesy again before many peoples, and nations, and tongues, and kings.’ Heb. x. from the 11th verse to the end; and chap. xii. 11. ‘ Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peace- able fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.’ Ver. 12. ‘ Where- fore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees.’ Ver. 13. ‘And make straight paths for your feet, lest that which is lame be turned out of the way, but let it rather be healed.’ Ver. 14. ‘ Fol- low peace with all men, and holiness, with- out which no man shall see the Lord.’ Ver. 15. 6 Looking diligently, lest any man fail of the grace of God ; lest any root of bitterness springing up, trouble you, and I thereby many be defiled.’ Rev. xiv. 1. ‘ And I looked, and lo, a Lamb stood on the : 598 SCOTS WORTHIES. mount Sion, and with him a hundred forty i and four thousand, having his Father’s name written on their foreheads.’ Yer. 2. ! 4 And I heard a voice from heaven, as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of great thunder; and I heard the voice of 1 harpers harping with their harps.’ Yer. 3. ! 4 And they sung as it were a new song be- j fore the throne, and before the four beasts and the elders, and no man could learn that song, but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from ; the earth.’ Yer. 4. 4 These were they which were not defiled with women, for i they are virgins ; these are they which fol- low the Lamb whithersoever he goeth, these were redeemed from among men, being the first-fruits unto God, and unto 1 the Lamb.’ Yer. 5. 4 And in their mouth was found no guile ; for they are without fault before the throne of God.’ Jude ver. 3. 4 Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation ; it ! was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you, that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered to the saints.’ Eph. vi. 10. 4 Finally, my j brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the po,wer of his might.’ Yer. 11. 4 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.’ Ver. 12. 4 For ye wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness i of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and hav- | ing done all to stand. Stand, therefore, 1 having your loins girt about with truth, i and having on the breastplate of righteous- ness ; and your feet shod with the pre- paration of the gospel of peace. Above all, take the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery jlarts j of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.’ 44 And scare not at his sweet, lovely, and desirable cross; for although I have not been able, because of my wounds, (that I received at my taking,) to lift up or Jay down my head, but as I was helped, yet I was never in better case all my life ; he has not given me one challenge since I came to prison, for anything less or more ; but, on the ; contrary, he has so wonderfully shined on me with the sense of his redeeming, strengthen- 1 ing, assisting, supporting, through-bearing, pardoning, and reconciling love, grace, and mercy, that my soul doth long to be freed of bodily infirmities and earthly organs, so that I may flee to his royal palace, even the heavenly habitation of my God, where I am ! sure of a crown put on my head, and a palm put in my hand, and a new song put 1 in my mouth, even the song of Moses and the Lamb, that^o I may bless, praise, mag- j nify, and extol him for what he hath done to me, and for me. Wherefore I bid fare- well to all my dear fellow-sufferers for the testimony of Jesus, who are wandering in dens and caves. Farewell, my children; study holiness in all your ways, and praise the Lord for what he hath done for me, and tell all my Christian friends to praise him on that account ! Farewell, sweet Bible, and wanderings and contendings for truth ! Welcome death ; welcome the city of my death, where I shall see him, and be enabled to serve him eternally with full freedom ; welcome blessed company, and angels, and spirits of just men made per- fect ! But, above all, W elcome, welcome, welcome, our glorious and alone God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! Into thy hands I commit my spirit, for thou art worthy. Amen. • 44 Sic sub.— JOHN NISBET.” ALEXANDER J’EDEN. ALEXANDER PEDEN. [Covenanters dispensing tiie Ordinance of Baptism.] * According to Wodrovv, he was some time also precentor at Fenwick. Sec Hist. vol. i. p. 443. j ! Alexander Peden was born in the parish I of Sorn, in the shire of Ayr. After he I had finished his university curriculum, he ! was for some time employed as school- master, precentor, and session-clerk, to Mr John Guthrie, minister of the Gospel at Tarbolton.* A little before the Restoration he was ! ! ordained minister at New Luce in Gallo- I ! | way, where he continued for about the space | of three years, until thrust out by the vio- lence and tyranny of the times. On the afternoon of the Sabbath previous to his leaving the parish, he preached from Acts xx. 32. “And now, brethren, I commend | you to the word of his grace,” and continued ! ! his discourse till night. When he closed the pulpit door, he knocked three times very hard on it, with his Bible, saying thrice, — “ I arrest thee, in my Master’s name, that none ever enter thee, but such as come in by the door as I have done and no one entered it, till after the Revo- lution it was opened by a Presbyterian. About the beginning of the year 1666, a proclamation was emitted by the council against him and several of the ejected ministers, wherein he was charged with holding conventicles, preaching, and bap- tizing children, at Ralstoun in Kilmarnock, and at Castlehill in Craigie parish, where he baptized twenty-four children. But, j i I SCOTS WORTHIES. 600 upon his non-appearance at this citation, he was next year declared a rebel, and for- feited both life and fortune.* After this, he joined that faithful party, | which, in the same year, was dispersed at j Pentland hills ; and with them he came the ; length of Clyde, where he had a melan- ! choly view of their end, and parted with j them there. Afterwards, when one of his ! friends said to him, “ Sir, you did well that left them, seeing you was persuaded that they would fall and flee before the enemy,” he was offended, and said, “ Glory, glory to j God, that he sent me not to hell imme- | diately, for I should have stayed with them, : though I should have been cut in pieces.” In the same year he met with a very re- markable deliverance. For, while riding in company with Mr Welch and the laird of Glerover, they met a party of the enemy’s i horse. The laird fainted, fearing they should be taken ; Peden seeing this, said, | “ Keep up your courage and confidence, for God hath laid an arrest on these men that | they shall do us no harm.” When they met they were courteous, and asked the j way. Peden went off the way, and showed them the ford of the water of Titt. When he returned, the laird said, “ Why did you i go? you might have let the lad go with them.” “ No,” said he, “ They might have asked questions of the lad, which might have discovered us ; but, as for me, I knew they would be like Egyptian dogs ; they could not move a tongue against me, my time not being yet come.” He passed his time sometimes in Scot- land, and sometimes in Ireland,! until June, 1673, when he was by major Cock- | burn taken in the house of Hugh Ferguson of Knockdew, in Carrick, who had con- * Wodrow’s History, vol. i. p. 235. t Walker, in his Eighth Additional Passage, &c., says, that he was in Ireland in the year 1670; but of this we have no particular account. I strained him to stay all night. Peden told him it would be a dear night’s quarters to them both ; accordingly they were both carried prisoners to Edinburgh. There the said Hugh was fined in 1000 merks for reset, harbour, and converse with him. Some time after his examination, Peden was sent prisoner to the Bass. One day, as he was walking on the rock, some soldiers were passing by, and one of them cried, “ The devil take him.” He said, “ Fy, fy ! poor man, thou knowest not what thou art saying; but thou shalt re- pent that.” At which he stood astonished, and went to the guard distracted, crying out for Peden, saying, “ The devil would immediately come and take him away.” Peden came, and conversed and prayed with him, and next morning came to him again, and found him in his right mind, under deep convictions of great guilt. The guard being to change, they commanded him to his arms, but he refused ; and said, “ He would lift no arms against Jesus Christ, his cause, and his people ; I have done that too long.” The governor threatened him with death to-morrow by ten o’clock. He confidently said, three times over, “ That though he should tear him in pieces, he should never lift arms that way.” About three days after, the governor put him forth of the garrison, setting him ashore. And he, having a wife and children, took a house in East Lothian, where he became a singu- lar Christian. Peden was brought from the Bass to Edinburgh, and was sentenced, in Decem- ber, 1678, along with other sixty prisoners for the same cause, to be banished to America, never to be seen again in Scot- land, under pain of death. After this sentence was passed, he often said, “ That that ship was not yet built that should take him or these prisoners to Virginia, or any other of the English plantations in America.” When they were on shipboard in the roads i I ; ! ALEXANDER PEDEN. of Leith, there was a report that the enemy were to send down thumbkins to keep them in order ; on which they were much discouraged. He went above deck, and said, “ Why are you so much discouraged ? you need not fear, there will neither thumb- kins nor bootkins come here; lift up your | hearts, for the day of your redemption draweth near : if we were once at London, we will all be set at liberty,” &c. In their ! voyage thither they had the opportunity of I seizing the commander of the ship, and j escaping, but did not choose to avail ! themselves of it without his advice. He j said, “ Let all alone, for the Lord will set ' all at liberty in a way more conducive to I his own glory, and our own safety.” Ac- cordingly, when they arrived, the skipper j who received them at Leith, being to carry j them no farther, delivered them to another, j to carry them to Virginia, to whom they were represented as thieves and robbers. But when he came to see them, and found ; they were all grave sober Christians, ba- j nished for Presbyterian principles, he would | sail the sea with none such. In this con- | fusion, the one captain refusing to receive | them, and the other not choosing to retain j them on account of the expense, they were | set at liberty. Some say the captain got compliments from friends in London. Others assure us, that they got off through means of the Lord Shaftesbury, who was always friendly to the Presbyterians. How- ever, it is certain they were all liberated at Gravesend, without any bond or imposition whatever. And, in their way homeward, I i the English showed them no small degree of kindness.* * Among those against whom this iniquitous sentence was passed, there was one, by name Alex- ander Anderson, who was only fifteen years of age, and deserves tobe remembered, at oncefor his youth, and his piety. The historian Wodrow gives the following account of a testimony which he left be- hind him : — “ He takes notice,” says he, “ that he - i! 601 j After they were set at liberty, Peden staid at London, and other places of Eng- land, until 1679, when he came to Scot- land. On that dismal day, the 22d of June, when the Lord’s people fell and fled before their enemies at Bothwell Bridge, he was sixty miles distant, being near the border, where he kept himself retired until the middle of the day, when some friends said to him, “ Sir, the people are waiting for sermon, it being the Lord’s day.” To I whom he said, “ Let the people go to their | prayers; for me, I neither can nor will preach any this day; for our friends are fallen and fled before the enemy at Hamil- ton, and they are hashing and hagging them down, and their blood is running down like water.” After this, in the year 1682, he married that singular Christian, John Brown, at J j his house in Priesthill, in the parish of Muirkirk in Kyle, to one Isabel Weir. After marriage, he said to the bride, “ Isabel, ; you have got a good man to be your hus- band, but you will not enjoy him long : prize his company, and keep linen by you j to be his wdnding-sheet, for you will need i it w r hen you are not looking for it, and it j | is the youngest prisoner in Scotland, and that the ! Lord had opened his eyes, and revealed his Son in his heart since he came under the cross ; that he had much difficulty to part with his friends and relations ; yet he had now found, fellowship with Christ did much more than balance the worth of the company of his dearest relations ; that though he be so very young, as could not be admitted as a witness among men, yet he hopes that Christ hath taken him as a witness to his cause. He makes an ! apology that he who is but a child, should leave 1 anything of this nature behind, but joys that he was constrained to it, to testify that God perfects strength out of the mouth of babes.' He leaves his commendations to the cross of Christ, and blesses | the Lord for carrying him through temptations, and enabling him, one of the lambs of his flock, to stand before great' men and judges ; and closes with his good wishes to all the friends of Christ.” See Wod- row, i. 524. . 602 SCOTS WORTHIES. will be a bloody one,” which sadly came to pass in the beginning of May, 1685. In the same year, 1682, he went to Ire- land again, and coming to the house of William Steel in Glenwha’ry, in the county of Antrim, he inquired at Mrs Steel if she wanted a servant for thrashing of victual. She said, they did ; and asked what his wages were a-day and a-week. He said, the common rate was a common rule. To which she assented. At night he was put to bed in the barn with the servant-lad, and that night he spent in prayer and groaning. On the morrow he thrashed with the lad, and the next night he spent in the same way. The second day the lad said to his mistress, “ This man sleeps none, but groans and prays all night ; I can get no sleep with him ; he thrashes very well, and not sparing himself, though I think he has not been used to it ; and when I put the barn in order, he goes to such a place, and prays for the afflicted Church of Scotland, and ! names so many people in the furnace.” He wrought the second day ; his mistress watched, and overheard him praying as the lad had said. At night she desired her husband to inquire if he was a minister ; which he did, and desired him to be free with him, and he should not only be no enemy to him but a friend. Peden said, he was not ashamed of his office, and gave I an account of his circumstances. But he j was no more set to work, or to lie with the ! lad. He staid some considerable time in j that place, and was a blessed instrument in the conversion of some, and the civilizing of others. Before he left Ireland, he preached in several places, particularly one time in ! 1685, where he made a most clear discovery of the many hardships his fellow-sufferers were then undergoing in Scotland ; and of the death of Charles II., — the news of which came not to Ireland till twenty-four hours thereafter. After this he longed to be out of Ire- ! land ; both from a fearful apprehension of that dismal rebellion that broke out there about four years after, and from a desire he had to take part with the sufferers of Scot- land. Before his departure from thence, he baptized a child to one John Maxwell, a Glasgow man, who had fled over from the persecution. After he and twenty Scots sufferers came aboard, he went on deck and prayed — there j not being then the least wind — where he made a rehearsal of times and places when and where the Lord had helped them in | the day of their distress, and now they were ; in a great strait. Waving his hand to the I west, from whence he desired the wind, he said, “ Lord, give us a loof-full of wind ; fill the sails, Lord, and give us a fresh gale, and let us have a swift and safe passage over to the bloody land, come of us what will.” When he began to pray the sails , w T ere hanging all straight down, but ere he | ended, they were all blown full, and they j j got a very swift and safe passage over. In j j the morning, after they landed, he lectured, ; ere they parted, on a brae-side : in wdiich ; he had some awful threatenings against j Scotland, saying, “ The time was coming, j that they might travel many miles in Gal- j | loway, Nithsdale, Ayr, and Clydesdale, and not see a reeking house, or hear a cock crow ;” and further added, “ My soul trem- j bles to think what will become of the in- ! dulged, backslidden, and upsetting minis- j ters of Scotland ; as the Lord lives, none j of them shall ever be honoured to put a right pin in the Lord’s tabernacle, nor assert Christ’s kingly prerogative as Head j and King of his Church.” After his arrival in Scotland, in the j beginning of the year 1685, he met with ! several remarkable deliverances from the | enemy. One time, fleeing from them on j j horseback, he was obliged to ride a water, 1 1 where he was in imminent danger. After • ALEXANDER PEDEN. : ; I having crossed, he cried, “ Lads, do not follow me, for I assure you, ye want my boat, and so will drown ; and consider where your landing will be which af- frighted them from entering the water. At another time, being also hard pursued, he was forced to take a bog and moss be- fore him. One of the dragoons being more forward than the rest, run himself into that dangerous bog, where he and the horse were never seen more. About this time he preached one Sab- bath night in a sheep-fold, the hazard of the time affording no better. That night he lectured upon Amos vii. 8, “ And I will set a plumb line in the midst of my people, the house of Israel,” &c. In this lecture, he said, “ I’ll tell you good news. Our Lord will take a feather out of Antichrist’s wing, which shall bring down the duke of York, and banish him out of these king- doms. And there shall never a man of the house of Stuart sit upon the throne of Britain, after the duke of York, whose reign is now short, for their lechery, treachery, tyranny, and shedding the pre- cious blood of the Lord’s people. But, oh ! black, black, will the days be that will come upon Ireland ! so that they shall travel forty miles, and not see a reeking- house, or hear a cock crow.” When ended, he and those with him lay down in the sheep-house, and got some sleep ; and early next morning went up a burn side, and spent a long time in meditation. When he came back he sung the 32d psalm, from the 7th verse to the end ; and then repeated that verse, — “ Thou art my hiding place, thou shalt From trouble keep me free ; Thou with songs of deliverance About shalt compass me Saying, “ These and the following are I sweet lines, which I got at the burn-side this morning, and will get more to-morrow ; 603 | and so will get daily provision. Lie was never behind any who put their trust in Him, and we will go on in his strength, mak- ing mention of his righteousness, and of his only .” He met with another remarkable deliverance ; for the enemy coming upon him and some others, they were pursued by both horse and foot a considerable way. At last, getting some little height between them and the enemy, he stood still, and said, “ Let us pray here; for if the Lord hear not our prayers, and save us, we are all dead men.” Then he began, saying, “ Lord, it is thy enemy’s day, hour, and power, they may not be idle. But hast thou no other work for them, but to send them after us ? Send them after to whom thou wilt give strength to flee, for our strength is gone. Twine them about the hill, Lord, and cast the lap of thy cloak over old Sandy, and thir puir things, and save us this one time ; and we’ll keep it in re- membrance, and tell it to the commenda- tion of thy goodness, pity, and compassion, what thou didst for us at such a time.” And in this he was heard ; for a cloud of mist intervened immediately betwixt them ; and, in the mean time, a post came to the enemy, to go in quest of Mr Renwick, and a great company with him. At this time it was seldom that Peden ! could be prevailed on to preach ; frequently answering and advising people to pray much, saying, “ It was praying folk that would get through the storm ; they would yet get preaching, both meikle and good, but not much good of it, until judgment was poured out to lay the land desolate.” In the same year, 1685, being in Car- | rick, John Clerk of Muirbrook, being with him, said, “ Sir, what think you of this time ? Is it not a dark and melancholy day ? Can there be a more discouraging time than this?” He said, “Yes, John, this is a dark discouraging time, but there will be a darker time than this ; these silly SCOTS WORTHIES. ! G04 j graceless creatures, the curates, shall go ! | down : and after them shall arise a party j called Presbyterians, but having little more I but the name ; and these shall, as really as | Christ was crucified without the gates of ! Jerusalem on Mount Calvary bodily, I say, they shall as really crucify Christ, in his cause and interest in Scotland ; and shall lay him in his grave, and his friends shall give him his winding-sheet, and he shall lie as one buried for a considerable time : O ! then, John, there shall be darkness and dark days, such as the poor Church of Scotland never saw the like, nor ever shall see, if once they were over; yea, John, i they shall he so dark, that if a poor thing ! would go between the east sea-bank and I the west sea-bank, seeking a minister to | whom they would communicate their case, j or tell them the mind of the Lord concern- i ing the time, he shall not find one.” John | asked, where the testimony should be then ? I He answered,* “ In the hands of a few, I who would be despised and undervalued of all, but especially by those ministers who buried Christ ; but after that he shall get up upon them ; and at the crack of his winding-sheet, as many of them as are alive, who were at the burial, shall be distracted and mad with fear, not knowing what to do : then, John, there shall be brave days, ! such as the Church of Scotland never saw the like ; I shall not see them, but you may.” j About this time, as he was preaching in I I the day-time in the parish of Girvan, and being in the fields, one David Mason, then * In an old copy, there are these words: — “ In the hands of a few, who shall have neither magis- trate nor minister among them, who shall be sore despised and undervalued of all,” &c. Whether this alteration proceeds from different information, or from partiality, is hard to determine : only it is affirmed, that the author of these passages was then amongst that party who had neither magis- trate nor minister at that time, or at least was not in full communion with any party, if it was not those adhering to Mr Hepburn. a professor, came in haste, trampling upon | the people to be near him. At which he said, “ There comes the devil’s rattle-bag, we do not want him here.” After this, the said David became officer and informer in that bounds, running through, rattling and summoning the people to theft unhappy courts for non-conformity; at which he and j his family got the name of the devil’s rattle- j bag. Since the Revolution, he complained i j to his minister that he and his family got j that name. The minister said, “ Ye well ! deserved it ; and he was an honest man | that gave you it : you and yours must en- j joy it : there is no help for that.” His last sermon was preached in the • Collimwood, at the water of Ayr, a short j time before his death. In the preface be- | fore this sermon, he said, “ There are four ! or five things I have to tell you this night ; j 1st, A bloody sword, a bloody sword, a bloody sword, for thee, O Scotland, that shall pierce the hearts of many. 2dly, j 1 Many miles shall ye travel, and see nothing : but desolation and ruinous wastes in thee, O Scotland. 3dly, The most fertile places in thee shall be as waste as the mountains. 4thly, The women with child shall be ript up and dashed in pieces. And, fithly, Many a conventicle has God had in thee, O Scotland ; but, ere long, God will make j a conventicle that will make Scotland tremble. Many a preaching has God be- ! stowed on thee ; but, ere long, God’s judg- j ments shall be as frequent as these precious | meetings, wherein he sent forth his faithful ' servants to give faithful warning of the ; hazard of thy apostasy from God, in break- j ing, burning, and burying his covenant, per- secuting, slighting, and contemning the gospel, shedding the precious blood of his saints and servants. God sent forth a Welwood, a Kid, a King, a Cameron, a Cargill, and others, to preach to thee ; but, ere long, God shall preach to thee by fire and a bloody sword. God will let none of !i ALEXANDER PEDEN. r 1 1 605 these men’s words fall to the ground, that | he sent forth with a commission to preach these things in his name.” In the sermon, he farther said, that a few years after his death, there would he a wonderful altera- tion of affairs in Britain and Ireland, and Scotland’s persecution should cease ; upon which every one would believe the deliver- ance was come, and, consequently, would fall fatally secure ; but you will be all very far mistaken, for both Scotland and Eng- land will be scourged by foreigners, and i a set of unhappy men in these lands tak- | ing part with them, before any of you can ! pretend to be happy, or get a thorough j deliverance; which will be a more severe i chastisement than any other they have met | with, or can come under, if once that were | over. After much wandering from place to ! place, through Kyle, Carrick, and Gallo- 1 1 way, his death drawing near, he came to ; his brother’s house, in the parish of Sorn, ; where he was born, where he caused them 1 1 to dig a cave, with a willow-bush covering | the mouth thereof, near to his brother’s ; ; house. The enemy got notice, and searched | the house narrowly several times, but him they found not. While in this cave, he i said to some friends,* — 1st, “ That God would make Scotland a desolation. 2dly, There would be a remnant in the land whom God would spare and hide. 3dly, i They would be in holes and caves of the | earth, and be supplied with meat and drink; and when they came out of their holes, ; they would not have freedom to walk for 1 stumbling on dead corpses. And, 4thly, A stone cut out of the mountain would come down; and God would be avenged I on the great ones of the earth, and the inhabitants of the land, for their wicked- ness : and then the church would come * The foresaid old copy said this was within two | hours of his death. forth in beauty and glory, as a bride adorned for her husband. And he wished that the Lord’s people might be hid in their caves, as if they were not in the world : for nothing would do until God appeared with his judgments.” And withal gave them this sign, “ That if he be but once buried, they might be in doubt, but, if oftener than once, they might be persuaded that all he had said would come to pass ; and ear- nestly desired them to take his corpse out to Airsmoss, and bury him beside Richie — meaning Mr Richard Cameron — that he might have rest in his grave, for he had got little during his life. But he said, bury him where they would, he would be lifted again ; but the man who would first put hands to his corpse, four things would befall him : — 1st, He would get a great fall from a house. 2dly, He would fall into adul- tery. 3dly, In theft, and for that he should leave the land. 4thly, Make a melancholy end abroad for murder.” All which came to pass. This man was one Murdoch, a mason by trade, but then in the military service, being the first man who put his hands to his corpse. Peden had for some time been too credu- lous in believing the obliquous misrepresen- tations of some false brethren concerning Mr James Renwick, whereby he was much alienated from him ; which exceedingly grieved Mr Renwick, stumbled some of his j followers, and confirmed some of his adver- ! saries, who boasted that now Peden was I turned his enemy. But now, when dying, j he sent for him. Mr Renwick came to | him in all haste, and found him lying in a very low state. When he came in, he raised himself upon his elbow, with his head on his hand, and said, “ Are you the Mr James Renwick there is so much noise about ? ” He answered, “ Father, my name is James Renwick, but I have given the | world nc ground to make any noise about me, for I have espoused no new principles SCOTS WORTHIES. j 606 I or practices, but what our reformers and Covenanters maintained.” He caused him to sit down, and give him an account of | his conversion, principles, and call to the i ministry. All which Mr Renwick did, in a most distinct manner. When ended, I Peden said, “ Sir, you have answered me i : to my soul’s satisfaction ; I am very sorry that I should have believed any such evil reports of you, which not only quenched my love to, and marred my sympathy with ! you, but made me express myself so bitterly against you, for which I have sadly smarted. But, Sir, ere you go, you must pray for me, for I am old, and going to leave the world.” This he did with more than ordinary en- largement. When ended, Peden took him by the hand, and drew him to him, and ! kissed him, saying, “ Sir, I find you a faith- ful servant to your Master ; go on in single dependence upon the Lord, and ye will get honestly through, and clear off the stage, when many others who hold their heads high, will lie in the mire, and make foul | hands and garments.” And then he prayed | that the Lord might spirit, strengthen, sup- | port, and comfort him in all his duties and difficulties.* A little before his death, he said, “Ye will all be displeased where I will be buried at last ; but I charge you not to lift my corpse again.” At last, one morning early he left the cave, and came to his brother’s door. His brother’s wife said, “ Where are I you going ? the enemy will be here.” He | said, “ I know that.” “ Alas ! Sir,” said | she, “ what will become of you ? you must go back to the cave again.” He said, “ I I I have done with that, for it is discovered ; i ; but there is no matter ; for, within forty- i eight hours, I will be beyond the reach of I all the devil’s temptations, and his instru- * Some have doubted of the certainty of this | interview; however, there is no seeming improba- bility in it ; nor is it any disparagement to either Peden or Mr Renwick. ments in hell and on earth, and they shall trouble me no more.” About three hours after he entered the house the enemy came, and not having found him in the cave, searched the barn narrowly, casting the unthrashed corn, went through the house, stabbed the beds, but entered not into the place where he lay. And within forty-eight hours after this, he closed his pilgrimage, and became an inhabitant of that land, where the weary are at rest, being beyond sixty years of age. He was buried in the laird of Auchin- leck’s isle, but a troop of dragoons came and lifted his corpse,* and carried it two miles, to Cumnock Gallows- foot, after he had been forty-days in the grave, where he lies buried beside other martyrs. Thus died Alexander Peden, so much famed for his singular piety, zeal, and faith- fulness, and indefatigableness in the duty of prayer ; but especially who exceeded all we have heard of in latter times, for that gift of foreseeing and foretelling future events, both with respect to the church and nation of Scotland and Ireland, and particular persons and families, several of which are already accomplished. A gentleman, when speaking in his writings of Peden, says, “ Abundance of this good man’s predictions are well-known to be already come to pass.”t And although these tilings are now made * After this (says Patrick Walker) that troop of dragoons came to quarter in Cambusnethan, two of them were quartered in the house of James Gray, | one of his acquaintances ; and, being frightened in j their sleep, started up, and clapped their hands, crying, “Peden, Peden!” These two dragoons affirmed, that, out of their curiosity, they opened the coffin to see his body, and it had no smell, though he had been forty days dead. f John Kerr of Kersland, in his Memoirs, page 8, where he adds, that when some people were going to join Argyle in 1685, Peden, after a short j ejaculation, bid them stop, for Argyle was fallen a sacrifice that minute. Some takingout their watches, J marked the time, which accordingly answered to his being taken. JOHN BLACKADDER. 607 to stoop or yield to the force of ridicule, and the sarcasms of the profane, and the fashions of an atheistical age and genera- tion; yet we must believe and conclude with the Spirit of God, that the secrets of the Lord both have been, are, and will be, with them who fear his name. JOHN BLACKADDER. John Blackadder was a lineal descen- ded, and the only representative of the house of Tulliallan. After he had gone through his course of classical learning, he was ordained minister of the gospel at Troqueer, in the neighbourhood of Dum- fries. Being nominated by the unanimous voice of the people, he received ordination from the presbytery of Dumfries, and was admitted to his benefice, June 7th, 1653. No sooner had Blackadder commenced his labours, than his first exertions were directed to the suppression of vice and pro- fanity, — a work rendered the more difficult, as it was necessary in the present case to begin with the eldership, who appear, through complete indolence, to have suf- fered all proper discipline to fall into disuse. This accomplished, Blackadder made next an effort on his parishioners ; and, as he found them completely ignorant on the matter, he commanded the Session Records to be produced. After this, he appointed teachers, who were instructed at once to reason with heretics, and to expound the Scriptures to those whose intellectual facul- ties were naturally weak. His own Sab- bath discourses had chiefly for their object the instruction of his hearers in the ele- mentary parts of religion. In addition to this he had weekly sermons, which, though addressed especially to converts, became soon so popular, that, not only his own people, but we are told several honest and godly persons from other parishes flocked to hear him, He catechised the parish once every half-year, and formed a plan with two of his brethren, Mr Welch of Irongray, and Mr Johnstone of Lochrutton, of visiting on certain occasions, the parishes of each other. The presbytery, when the proposal was made, agreed to it at once. The united labours of these brethren were attended with considerable success. Indeed, the happy effects of Blackadder’ s labours were soon visible in the altered lives and conduct of a great many of his parishioners. Two years had scarcely elapsed, when, over all the parish, there prevailed an exemplary regularity in the performance of the duties of private and public worship. Religious knowledge increased, and household prayer was almost universally attended to. Black- adder was very attentive in his visitation of sick persons, and, indeed, all who laboured under any distress, whether of body or of mind. The proper discharge of this duty appeared to him one of the most difficult and delicate parts of his work. To suit himself to the different tempers and cir- cumstances of men — to preach to the con- science — to warn the sinner of his peril — and to unfold the promises of divine grace, appeared to him to require no ordinary prudence. Blackadder was rather reserve in his usual intercourse with his people, and he seldom consented, though always asked, to attend parties at feasts, marriages, or baptisms. In this manner, Blackadder continued faithfully to discharge his official duties, until, with a number more of eminent minis- ters, he was ejected from his charge by the infamous act of Glasgow, 1662. This act was preceded by several encroachments, which were fitted to excite suspicion and alarm on the part of the ministers. On this occasion, Blackadder stood manfully at his post; and for three Sabbaths pre- vious to his final ejectment, he testified from the pulpit against the abuses and enormities of the age. It so happened that the last Sabbath was the one set apart in Edinburgh for the consecration of the new bishops, and Blackadder is said to have entered his protest against the ceremony, before the congregation. When the parliament met, the first of their proceedings, which gave general dis- satisfaction. was the ratification of the act in question. Against it the Dumfries Pres- bytery protested, as being utterly at vari- ance with all the previous practices and j laws of the church. But, on other grounds, the act was quite objectionable, as it vir- tually condemned as rebellious all the acts of the General Assembly for the last twenty years. When news of the proceedings of the Presbytery of Dumfries had reached i Edinburgh, the commissioner immediately ! despatched a military force to that town, ! with orders to place the whole sacred court under arrest. Accordingly, a troop of fifty horse, under a certain captain Scott, ar- rived at Dumfries on Monday evening, but found that several of the ministers, aware of their intentions, had already fled. Among these were the two ministers of Dumfries, Mr Campbell and Mr Henderson. Black- adder had, in their absence, been requested by the magistrates to supply their place, and had actually commenced, when the military arriving, he judged it prudent to desist, not choosing to bring a stranger congregation into difficulties by any rash expression that might escape his own lips. On Monday, an order was sent round to all the clergy within the bounds, to present themselves before the commissioner, and j march next day as prisoners to Edinburgh. As this proved rather inconvenient, Tues- day being appointed for the meeting of presbytery, his lordship was graciously pleased to postpone the time of their depar- ture till Wednesday. Four gentlemen of the guard waited upon them after dinner j for the purpose of ascertaining their minds relative to their intended journey. The j brethren politely offered them wine, and j though the invitation was complied with, yet, fearing a tumult, the captain requested that ! next morning by ten o’clock, they would, j in as private a manner as possible, leave the town. They complied with this re- quest; and, when within half-a-mile of j Edinburgh, they were desired to ride in j before the commander, who appears to I have been afraid of popular clamour had | he ventured to treat them as prisoners, j With this proposal the ministers appear to have agreed. Next day they were brought before the court, and after a few interroga- tories, were allowed to return to their own parishes, — a favour which it seems was procured to Blackadder by some of his friends. Here, however, Blackadder was not long permitted to remain. By the severe orders of the court he was soon ! obliged to leave his charge, which he accord- ingly did on the last Sabbath of October, after taking farewell of his sorrowing and ! ! affectionate people in a pathetic and ener- j getic discourse. From Troqueer Blackadder removed to j| Glencairn, ten miles distant, in the begin- j | ning of October, 1662. As the parish j was quite sequestered, he had great hopes that the persecuting party would allow him to remain unmolested; and, accordingly, after residing there for about three months, ' he resumed his public duties, and in Feb- ruary, 1663, he ventured back to his old I JOHN BLACKADDER. 609 parish, where he visited, catechised, and lectured privately. The consequence of this was, that letters of council were di- rected against him, and about a dozen of his confederates, namely, Welsh, Semple, Arnot, and Peden, for performing a num- ber of acts connected with the ministerial function. The consequence was, that he resolved forthwith to depart the country ; and, as Edinburgh seemed to offer the like- liest opportunity for concealment, he deter- mined to direct his steps thither, and, accordingly, in a short time, became a resi- dent, along with his family, in that ancient capital. Procuring a private lodging in the Canongate, he there spent the remainder of the winter, being disabled from preaching by a severe illness. He attended, however, during the following summer, a number of private meetings in the Grassmarket, being joined by about seven or eight ministers from Nithsdale in Galloway. The defeat at Pentland hills interrupted these conventicles. Blackadder was at that time in Edinburgh, and had it not been for the unfavourable accounts which he received of the state of the Covenanters’ army, would assuredly have joined them on that occasion. During the murderous exe- cutions which followed the engagement, Blackadder had an opportunity of extend- ing his humanity to his suffering country- men in the south. In September, 1668, under the auspices of a milder administra- tion, Blackadder was invited to preach and dispense ordinances in various parishes in the west of Scotland. In Dunlop, he bap- tized forty-two children in one house ; and in the manse of Newmills, eleven. Similar duties were performed by him at Eagles- ham, — always at night, for fear of discovery. The new administration was much more liberal than the former, in consequence of which, for more than a year, he was per- mitted to preach in Edinburgh. In January, 1669, he received a second and pressing call to the west, in consequence of which he went to Fenwick, on January 28, and preached there a public discourse, being the first which the people of the place had lis- tened to from any of the persecuted minis- ters, since the battle of Pentland. Here his labours were so great, and his exertions for the spiritual benefit of the people so unremitting, that his health suffered mate- rially. Being advised by the physicians to try the benefit of the mineral waters at Newmills, he went there annually for seven years, remaining generally about the space of six weeks. The same year he went over to Fife, where he staid a few days in Strathmiglo, and preached to numerous crowds, who flocked from all quarters to hear him. Government began to take alarm at these conventicles ; ministers were forbidden to ! officiate at them under pain of final impris- onment, and the military were called out to carry into effect the rigorous enactments of the court. Among the first armed con- venticles, as they were called, was that kept by Blackadder at Beith-hill, on the 18th of June, 1670. Though he foresaw the risk which he ran, yet love to the souls of men made him encounter all hazards. He requested Mr Dickson, who willingly con- sented, to assist him on the occasion. Exaggerated reports of this conventicle | spread over all the country. The two i ministers were summoned to appear before the council, August 11; but failing to ■ answer the citation, they were denounced, and put to the king’s horn. Blackadder i concealed himself in Edinburgh ; but a strict search being instituted, he was compelled to fly to the Merse, where he remained j until the tumult subsided, when he again j j showed himself ; and, resuming his public ministrations, he preached at Mordington, and several other parishes. In the spring of 1671, he visited Borrowstounness, and the neighbourhood. Feeling rather indis- 4 H 610 SCOTS WORTHIES. posed, he intended to keep himself private ; but early on Sabbath morning, lady Hilder- stone’s house, where he had taken up his residence, was surrounded by vast crowds of people, who insisted upon his coming out to address them. For this meeting, lady Hilderstone, her son, and many of the peo- ple, were severely fined. All this, however, could not abate the ardour of the people from favouring field-preaching. Scarcely three weeks after the meeting at Hilder- stone, Blackadder preached at the Black Dub at Livingstone. He left Edinburgh early in the morning, and returned the same evening. His reason for doing this was to prevent the people from being brought into trouble on his account, which certainly would have been the case had the rumour gone abroad that he was harbouring among them. Sentence of outlawry was this year passed upon him, but this did not discour- age him from still continuing to preach the gospel. Accordingly, we find him, about the end of summer, addressing avast assemblage of people near Lillies-leaf, in Roxburgh- shire. In the same year also, he frequently dispensed the sacrament of the supper in the open fields. The communions princi- pally noted, and most numerously attended, were four, viz., Kirkcudbright, Irongray, Carrick, and East Nisbet, in the Merse. Next year, 1678, Blackadder was invited to preach at Devon in Fife ; and in July, the same year, he held a meeting near Cul- ross, about a mile from Blairhole, the ancient residence of his ancestors. After- wards, he was invited to preach at Caitloch, where he found a large assembly had col- lected. A short account of what took place here is given in the life of Mr Welch. Blackadder seems to have been employed only in the table services. He was, how- ever, engaged on the Monday following. On the Sabbath previous to the meeting at Drumclog, he ventured to preach at Fala-moor in Livingstone. A severe rheumatism confined him for a month ! afterwards to his room, during which time the battle of Bothwell Bridge was fought ; in consequence of which he could not be implicated as having any personal share in it. Indeed, he appears to have had con- siderable doubts as to the propriety of the risings which were on that occasion sup- pressed. He did not, however, in the least, shrink from the discharge of his duty, and immediately after the act of indemnity and indulgence, which permitted conventicles to be held in private houses, he still perse- vered in Ins own practice of preaching pub- licly in the open air. These meetings raised a great outcry ; but Blackadder, nothing daunted, was found next week preaching at lord Torphichen’s with greater boldness than j before. The kirk was within hearing, where the curate was haranguing to six- teen persons. From thence he went to Borrowstounness, where the meeting was dispersed by the soldiers from Blackness, and he himself nearly taken. After this, Blackadder preached at Kirkaldy, Gala- water, and Livingstone. About the end of May, 1680, he resolved on a voyage for Holland, as his eldest son was about to commence the study of medi- cine at Leyden; and during his stay at Rotterdam, which lasted fifteen weeks, he preached every Sabbath. About the end of September he returned to Scotland again ; and, what is very remarkable, ar- rived in Edinburgh on the very day that Mr John Dickson w T as sent prisoner to the Bass. We find him in January, 1681, visiting Troqueer, at the request of his old parish- ioners, and preaching at a great variety of places, which it would be too tedious to mention, both on his way thither and on his return to Edinburgh. He concluded his public labours in East Lothian about | ten days before he was apprehended. The 1 circumstances which attended his capture JOHN BLACKADDER. 611 and examination, are as follows: — On Tues- day morning, April 5, the party came to his house before he arose. His daughter and servant were up. About five or six o’clock one knocked softly at the hanging gate ; she opened the door, and it proved to be Johnston, the town-major, with a party at his back, who came into the hall, and asked if there were any strangers in the house. She said, No. Yet he came to the chamber where her father was lying, putting the end of his staff to the side of the curtain, and then went up stairs to the gallery, where the minister used to stay, and found only his son lying in the bed, and came down again to the chamber, saying to the minister’s wife, “Mistress, desire your husband to rise.” He, looking forth out of the bed, said, “ How now, Major, is that you ; I am not surprised, but where is your order?” The other said, “ You are only to rise and come down to a friend in the Canongate “ Well,” said the minis- ter, “ if I were dressed, I am ready.” Meantime he spoke quietly to his men to wait on the prisoner. But he himself stept forth and went quickly to Dalziel in the Canongate. After he returned, the minis- ter calling for a drink, sought a blessing, and caused give them all to drink, and went forth ; his wife being very sickly, yet behaved more quietly than he could have believed. The major took him down the Cowgate, himself on the one hand, and the minister’s son Thomas on the other, the party following, and brought him to Dal- ziel’s lodgings, near the foot of the Canon- gate. The major went first, the minister following, Dalziel himself opening the door. The major told him he had brought the prisoner; Dalziel bade him take him to the guard. The minister stepping up stairs, said, “ May I speak a little?” At which he rudely raged, “ You, Sir, have spoken too much ; I would hang you with my own hands over that outshot.” He knew not yet who he was, nor what was laid to his charge till afterward, as the minister per- ceived by a strange alteration of his calm- ness to him when he came to the court at twelve o’clock. The minister, finding him in such ill- mood, turned about, and came away with the major, who put him not in the common guard. At eleven o’clock, he was brought | before the common council, when the fol- lowing questions were proposed: — Chan. Are you a minister? A. I am. Chan. Where, and how long since ? A. At Tro- queer, in Galloway, since 1653. Chan. Did you excommunicate the king ; or was you at Torwood at that time ? A. I have not been at Torwood these four years. Chan. But what do you think of it ; do you approve of it? A. Though I be as free to answer to that as well as to all the former ; yet I must tell you I came here to give account of my judgment to no man ; therefore, seeing that this is an interro- gating of me about my thoughts, I humbly beg to be excused. Produce a libel, and I’ll endeavour to answer it as I can. [On this point he was repeatedly interrogated by the chancellor and advocate, but to no purpose.] Chan. But do you approve of taking the king’s life, and condemning him in soul and body? A. No, I do not, and no good man will. Chan. But you have preached in the fields, that is, on moors and hill-sides ? A. I place no case of con- science, or make any difference betwixt preaching in houses or in the fields. Chan. You know, and no doubt have seen, the j laws discharging such preaching ? A. My lord, no doubt I have, and I am sorry that there ever should have been laws and acts made against preaching the gospel. [After this the chancellor rose, and went forth with the other two, it being near one ! o’clock, their dinner hour.] On the morning of the second day’s | examination, he sent his son Thomas to j SCOTS WORTHIES. 612 tell colonel Blackadder, who went and informed general Dalziel better what he was. After that, Dalziel was most calm, and far from the temper he was in before. Chan. Have you not been in Fife some- times, and kept conventicles there? A. No doubt, my lord, I have been several times in Fife. Chan. I suppose I be little obliged to you in Fife, as I hear? A. As I can put little obligation on a person of such quality, so I know as little wherein I have disobliged your lordship. At two o’clock on Wednesday, captain Maitland, who was on guard, told the pri- soner that he was to carry him up to the council at three, and desired him to he ready. When he came to the Parliament Close, the captain sent four soldiers to wait on the prisoner in an outer room, till he should he called. He was not called, how- ever, but sent his son Thomas to inquire what word was concerning him ; who an- swered, he believed he was sentenced to the Bass. This sentence was accordingly carried into execution. On April 7, 1681, Black- adder was conveyed from Castleton in an open boat to the Bass, where, about five in the afternoon, he was delivered to the governor. Blackadder continued in this prison for about four years ; after which his health suffered so severely from the ungenial air of the place, as to endanger his life. His friends solicited liberty for him to be brought to Edinburgh. This, however, was not granted ; and he was merely allowed to change his place of residence to Dunbar or Hadding- ton prison, as he might choose. Mean- while, his distemper, it appears, had in- creased, and gave symptoms of fatal ter- mination, which being again represented to the council, he was at last permitted to come to the town of Edinburgh. The order came too late, for Blackadder had already died. He was subsequently buried in the churchyard of North Berwick, where a handsome tombstone still marks his grave, containing the following epitaph : — Blest John, for Jesus’ sake, in Patmos bound, ( His prison Bethel, Patmos Pisgah found : So the bless’d John, on yonder rock confined, His body suffer’d, but no chains could bind His heaven-aspiring soul ; while day by day, As from Mount Pisgah ’s top, he did survey The promised land, and view’d the crown by faith Laid up for those who faithful are till death. Grace form’d him in the Christian Hero’s mould — Meek in his own concerns — in’s Master’s bold ; Passions to Reason chained, Prudence did lead ; Zeal warm’d his breast, and reason cool’d his head. Five years on the lone rock, yet sweet abode. He Enoch-like enjoy’d, and walk’d with God ; Till, by long living on this heavenly food, j His soul by love grew up too great, too good j To be confined to jail, or flesh and blood, j Death broke his fetters off, then sw'ift he fled From sin and sorrow' ; and, by angels led. Enter’d the mansions of eternal joy ; — Blest soul, thy warfare’s done, praise, love, enjoy I His dust here rests till Jesus come again, — Even so, blest Jesus, come. Come, Lord. Amen. JAMES RENWICK. James Renwick was born in the parish of Glencairn in Nithsdale, February 15, 1662. His parents, though not rich, were yet ex- emplary for piety. His father, Andrew Renwick, a weaver by trade, and his moth- ! er, Elizabeth Corsan, had several children before James, who died young ; for which, when his mother was giving forcible ex- pression to her sorrow, her husband used to comfort her with declaring, that he was JAMES RENWICK. well satisfied to have children, whether they lived or died, young or old, providing they might be heirs of glory. This, how- ever, did not satisfy her : for in her prayers to God, she entreated for a child that might not only be an heir of glory, but might five to serve him in his generation ; whereupon, when James was horn, she took it as an answer of prayer, and regarded herself as lying under manifold engage- ments to dedicate him to the Lord. After James had learned to read the Bible, when about six years old, the Lord gave him some tokens of future grace, training him in his way, exercising him with doubts and debates above childish ap- prehension, about the Maker of all things, how all things were made, and for what end; and with strange suppositions of so many invisible worlds, above and beneath, with which he was transported into a train of musing, and continued in this exercise for about the space of two years, until he, | by prayer and meditation on the history of I the creation, came to a thorough belief that God made all things, and that all which he made was very good. And yet after he came to more maturity, he relap- sed to a deeper labyrinth of darkness about these foundation truths, and was so assault- ed with temptations of atheism, that being in the fields and looking to the mountains, he said, “ If these were all devouring fur- naces of burning brimstone, he would be j content to go through them all, if so he could be assured there was a God.” Out of which he emerged, through grace, into the sweet serenity of a settled per- suasion of the being of a God, and of his interest in him. From his younger years he was remark- able for obedience to his parents, whose orders, if they had spoken of putting him to any trade, he would cheerfully have com- plied with ; yet his own taste was decided- ly literary, until Providence at last saw 613 proper to gratify him, by raising friends who were so enamoured of his hopeful disposition, that they took him to Edin- burgh and earnestly promoted his education. When he was ready for the university, they encouraged him to engage in teaching the sons of the gentry for mutual improve- ment, — this kind of society, however, as usually happens, enticed him, with others, to spend too much of his time in gaming and recreations. This was the reason that some who knew him not took occasion to reproach him in after years, with pro- fanity and flagitiousness, which his nature ever abhorred. When his time at the col- lege drew near an end, he evinced such a tenderness of offending God, &c., that upon his refusal of the oath of allegiance then tendered, he was denied his share of the public solemnity of laureation with the rest of the candidates, but received it privately at Edinburgh. After which he continued his studies, attending on the then private and persecuted meetings for gospel-ordi- nances for a time, But upon a deplorable discovery of the unfaithfulness of the generality even of nonconformist ministers, he was again for some time plunged in the deeps of darkness, doubting what should be the end of such backsliding courses : until, upon a stricter search after such ministers as were most free from these defections, he found more light, and his knowledge of the iniquity of these courses augmented, and his zeal in- creased. And being more confirmed, when he beheld how signally the faithful minis- ters were owned of the Lord, and carried off the stage with great steadfastness, faith, and patience, especially after the death of that faithful minister and martyr, Mr Donald Cargill, at whose execution he was { present, July 27, 1681, he was so moved, I that he determined to embark with these witnesses in that cause for which they suf- fered : and he was afterwards so strength- 614 SCOTS WORTHIES. ened and established in that resolution, getting instructions about these things in and from the word, so sealed with a strong hand upon his soul, that all the temptations, tribulations, trials, oppositions and contra- dictions he met with from all hands to the day of his death, could never afterwards in the least unsettle his faith. On the strength of these conclusions, and upon grounds of scripture and reason, he, in October, 1681, accordingly held a meeting with some of these faithful wit- nesses of Christ, and conferred about the testimonies of some other martyrs lately executed, which he was very earnest al- ways to gather and keep on record, refresh- ing them greatly, by discourse, in which he showed how much he was grieved and of- fended with those who heard the curates, pleaded for cess-paying, and defended the owning of the tyrant’s authority, and how sad it was to him that none were giving a formal testimony against these things. In | the* end he added, “ That he would think it a great ease to his mind to know and be engaged with a remnant that would singly prosecute and propagate the testimony against the corruptions of the times to the succeeding generations, and would desire nothing more than to be helped to be ser- viceable to them.” At his first coming among them, he could not but be taken notice of ; for, while some were speaking of removing the bodies of the martyrs lately executed at the Gal- lo wlee, Ren wick was very forward to pro- mote it ; and when those who adhered to the testimony, as revised by Messrs Cameron and Cargill, towards the end of 1681, began to settle a correspondence for preserving union, understanding one another’s minds, | and preventing declensions to right or left- hand extremes, and agreed on emitting that declaration published at Lanark, January 12, 1682,Renwick was employed proclaim- ing it, but had no hand in the penning thereof, otherwise it might have been more considerately worded than what it was ; for, though he approved of the matter of it, yet he always acknowledged there were some expressions therein rather unadvised. After publishing this declaration, the next general meeting, — finding themselves reproached, and informed against both at home, and abroad in foreign churches, as if they had fallen from the principles of the Church of Scotland, — thought it expedient to send the laird of Earlstoun to the United Provinces to vindicate themselves from these reproaches, and to crave that sym- ! pathy which they could not obtain from their own countrymen. This at length, through mercy, proved so encouraging to them, that a door was opened to provide for a succession of faithful ministers, by sending some to be fitted for the work of the ministry there. Accordingly, Renwick, with some others, went thither. His com- I rades were ready, and sailed before, which made him anxious to follow. When he went over, he was settled at I the University of Groningen, where he plied his studies so hard, and with such success, that, from the necessities of his friends in Scotland, who were longing for his labours, and his own ardent desire to be at the work, in a short time he was ready for ordination. To hasten this, his dear friend Mr Robert Hamilton, who merited so much of those who reaped the benefit of Renwick’s labours afterwards, applied to one Mr Brakel, a godly Dutch minister, who was much delighted at first with the motion, and advised it should be done at Embden ; but this could not be ob- tained, because the principal man there who was to have the management of the affair, was in his judgment Cocceian. Whereupon, Mr Hamilton solicited the classes of Gron- ingen to undertake it ; which they willingly promised to do ; and calling for the testi- monials of Renwick, and the rest who went JAMES RENWICK. 615 over at that time, Renwick’s was produced — being providentially in readiness when the others were wanting — and though in a rude dress, were sustained. The classes being convened, they were called in and had an open harangue, wherein open testimony was given against all the forms and corruptions of their church ; at which they were so far from being offended, that, after a solemn consideration of their cause, they declared it was the Lord’s, and cost what it would, though all the kings of the earth were against it, they would go | through with it. They all three should j have passed together, but upon some dis- content arising, the other two were retarded. It was the custom of the place, that every one that passes must pay twenty guilders for the use of the church ; but the classes jointly declared, that they would be at all the charges themselves. The next difficulty was, that, being told it was impossible for any to pass without subscribing their Catechism, and observing that their forms and corruptions are there- in justified, Renwick resolutely answered, I “ He would do no such thing, being en- gaged by a solemn covenant to the con- trary.” This was like to spoil all ; but at j last they consented that he subscribe the I Confession and Catechism of the Church I of Scotland, — a practice never before heard ; of in that land ; which was accepted. On the day of ordination, Renwick was called in a very respectful way. After spending some time in prayer, the examination be- gan, which lasted from ten in the morning to two o’clock in the afternoon. Then his friends, who were attending in the church, were called in, amongst whom was his honoured friend Mr Hamilton, and another elder of the Church of Scotland, to be wit- ness to the laying on of the hands ; which, after the exhortation, they performed with prayer, the whole meeting melting in tears ; and thereafter, he had a discourse to the classes. With this solemnity the classes were so much affected, that at dinner, to which he and his friends were invited, the preses declared the great satisfaction all the brethren had in Renwick ; that they thought the whole time he was before them, he was so filled with the Spirit of God, that his face seemed to shine ; and that they had never seen or found so much of the Lord’s Spirit accompanying any work as that. But no sooner were these difficulties over, than others of a more disagreeable aspect began to arise, which, if they had appeared but one day sooner, might have stopped the ordination, at least for a time. On the very next day, Mr Brakel told them, that a formal libel was coming from the Scottish ministers at Rotterdam, containing heavy accusations against the poor society-people in Scotland, which they behoved either to vindicate, or else the ordination must be stopped ; but this being too late as to Ren- wick, it came to nothing at last. After his ordination, he was very desir- ous of improving his talents for the poor persecuted people in Scotland ; and having received large testimonials of his ordination and learning — particularly in the Hebrew and Greek tongues — from the classes, and finding a ship ready to sail, he embarked at the Brill ; but, waiting some days upon a wind, he was so discouraged by some pro- fane passengers pressing the king’s health, that he was forced to leave that vessel, and take another bound for Ireland. A sea- storm compelled them to put in to Rye har- bour in England, about the time when there was so much noise of the Ryehouse plot, which created him no small danger; but, after many perils at sea, he arrived safe at Dublin, where he had many conflicts with the ministers there, anent their defections and indifference ; and yet in such a gain- ing and gospel-way, that he left convictions on their spirits of his being a pious and zealous youth, which induced them to assist I 616 SCOTS WORTHIES. him in procuring a speedy passage to Scot- land. In this passage he had consider- able dangers, and a prospect of more, as not knowing how or where he should come to land, all ports being then so strictly ob- served, and the skipper refusing to let him go till his name was given up. But yet at last he was prevailed on to give him a cast to the shore, where he began his weary and uncertain w r anderings — which continued with him till he was apprehended — through an unknown wilderness, amongst unknown people, it being some time before he could meet with any of the societies. In September, 1683, he commenced his ministerial work in Scotland, taking up the testimony of the standard of Christ where it was fixed, and had fallen at the removal of the former witnesses, Messrs Cameron and Cargill, which, in the strength of his Master, he undertook to prosecute and maintain against opposition from all hands. In the midst of these difficulties, he was received by a poor persecuted people, who had lost all their worldly means of enjoy- ! ment, for the sake of the gospel. His first public meeting was in a moss at Darmead, where, for their information and his own vindication, he thought it expedient not ; only to let them know how he was called to the ministry, and what he adhered to, i but also to unbosom himself about the per- plexing questions of the time, particularly concerning ministers’ defections, showing whom he could not join with, and his rea- sons for so doing ; and, in the end, told them on what grounds he stood. After this, many other attempts were made, not only by the profane, but even by many professors ; some saying, he had excommunicated all the ministers in Scot- land, and some after they were dead; whereas, he only gave reasons why he could not keep communion with them in the present circumstances. Others said, that he was no Presbyterian, and that his design was only to propagate schism. But the truth was, he was a professed witness against all the defections of Presbyterians from any part of their covenanted work of reformation. Again, other ministers al- leged he was a Sectarian, Independent, or Anabaptist, or they knew not what. But when he had sometimes occasion to be among them, in and about Newcastle and Northumberland, they were as much of- fended as any at his faithful freedom in discovering the evil of their way, and de- clared that they had never met with such severe dealing from any Presbyterian be- fore him. But the general outcry was, that he had no mission at all. Others slandering him, that he came only by chance, at a throw of the dice ; with many other calumnies, re- futed by the foregoing relation. On the other hand, some gave out that he and his followers maintained the mur- dering principles and the delirious and i detestable blasphemies of Gibb ; all which shameless and senseless fictions he ever opposed and abhorred. Yea, some minis- j ters, more seemingly serious in their essays to prepossess the people against him, said, “ That they had sought and got the mind of the Lord in it, that his labours should ! never profit the Church of Scotland, nor any soul in it,” assuring themselves he would break, and bring to nothing, him and them that followed him ere it were long ; comparing them to Jannes and Jam- bres, who withstood Moses. All which reproaches he was remarkably supported under, and went on in his Master’s business, while he had any work for him to do. In the mean time, the noise that went through the country concerning him, at- tracted the notice of the council ; and, being enraged at the report of his preaching in the fields, they raised a hotter and more cruel persecution against him than had ever been the case before respecting any one man JAMES RENWICK. 617 | in the nation. For, having publicly pro- I claimed him a traitor and rebel, they pro- ceeded to pursue his followers with all the rigour that hellish fury and malice could suggest or invent ; and yet the more they opposed, the more they grew and increased. In 1684, his difficulties from enemies, and discouragements from friends opposed to him, and manifold vexations from all hands, began to increase more and more ; yet, all the while, he would not intermit one day’s preaching, but was still incessant and undaunted in his work. This made the ministers inform against him, as if he had intruded upon other men’s labours ; alleging, that when another minister had engaged to preach in a place, he unexpec- tedly came and preached in the same parish. They instanced one time near Paisley ; in which case he went upon a call from several in that bounds, without know- ing whether there was such a minister in that country. It is confessed, that he had sometimes taken the churches to preach in, when either the weather, instant hazard at the time, or respect to secrecy and safety, did exclude from every other place. But, could this be called intrusion, to creep into the church for one night, when they could not stand, nor durst they be seen without ? This year, in prosecution of a cruel in- formation, the soldiers became more vigilant in their indefatigable diligence to seek and hunt after him ; and from them he had many remarkable deliverances: particularly in the month of July he had one when he was going to a meeting; a countryman, see- ing him wearied, gave him a horse for some miles to ride on, they were surprised by lieutenant Dundas and a party of dragoons. The two men with him were taken and pitifully wounded. He escaped their hands, and went up Dungavel hill ; but* was so closely pursued — they being so near that they fired at him all the time — that he was forced to leave the horse, losing thereby his cloakbag, with many papers. Seeing no other refuge, he fled, in their sight, towards a heap of stones, where, for a little moment, getting out of their sight, he found a hol- low place into which he crept ; and com- mitting himself by earnest ejaculation to God, in submission to live or die ; and also believing, that he should be reserved for greater work, that part of Scripture often coming into his mind, Psalm vi. 8, “ De- part from me all ye workers of iniquity,” together with these words, Psalm xci. 11, “ For he shall give his angels charge,” &c. In the mean time, the enemy searched up 1 and down the hill, yet were restrained from j looking into, that place where he was. ! Many such sore and desperate chases he 1 and those with him met ; some continuing whole nights and days without intermission, in the wildest places of the country, for many miles together, without so much as a possibility of escaping the sight of those who pursued them. This year (September 24), letters of intercommuning were issued out against him, commanding all to give him no reset or supply, nor furnish him with meat, drink, house, harbour, or anything useful to him ; and requiring all sheriffs to apprehend and commit to prison his person, wherever they could find him ; by virtue of which the suf- | ferers were reduced to incredible straits, j not only in being murdered, but also from I hunger, cold, harassings, &c. ; in which j perplexity, being neither able to flee, nor ! fight, they were forced to publish an apolo- j j getical representation of the approved prin- J ciples and practices, and covenant-engage- | ments of our Reformers, and to enforce and j reduce to practice that privilege of extra- ordinary executing of judgment, on the | murdering beasts of prey, who made a daily trade of destroying innocents. When this j declaration was first proposed, Renwick j was somewhat averse to it, fearing the sad j effects it might produce ; but, considering 4 i 618 SCOTS WORTHIES. the necessity of the case would admit of no delay, he consented, and concurred in the publication thereof. Accordingly it was fixed upon several market-crosses and parish-church doors. November 8, 1684. After the publication of this declaration, rage and reproach seemed to strive which should show the greatest violence against the publishers and owners of it. The coun- cil published a proclamation for discovering such as own, or will not disown it ; requir- ing that none above the age of sixteen travel without a pass, and that any who would apprehend any of them should have 500 merks for each person ; and that every one should take the oath of abjuration ; where- by the temptation and hazard became so dreadful, that many were shot instantly in the fields ; others, refusing the oath, were brought in, sentenced and executed in one day; yea, spectators at executions were required to say, whether these men suffered justly or not. All which disastrous effects Renwick, with a sad and troubled heart, observed, and was often heard to say, that he wished from his heart the declaration had never been published. Neither was the year 1685 anything better. For it became now the enemy’s greatest ambition and emulation who could destroy most of these poor wandering mountain-men — as they were called — and when they had spent all their balls, they were nothing nearer their purpose than ! when they began ; for the more they were afflicted, the more they grew. “ The bush did burn, but was not consumed, because I the Lord was in the bush.” Charles II. being dead, and the duke of I York, a professed Papist, proclaimed in | February, 1685, Renwick could not let go this opportunity of witnessing against that usurpation of a papist upon the government of the nation, and his design of overturning the covenanted work of Reformation, and introducing popery. Accordingly, he and about 200 men went to Sanquhar, May 28, 1685, and published that declaration, after- wards called the Sanquhar Declaration. In the mean time, the Earl of Argyle’s expedition taking place, Renwick was much solicited to join with them. He expressed the esteem he had of his honest and laud- able intention, and spoke very favourably of him, declaring his willingness to concur, if the quarrel and declaration were rightly stated ; but, because it was not concerted according to the ancient plea of our Scottish Covenants, he could not agree with them ; which created him a new series of troubles and reproach, and that from all hands, and from none more than the indulged. In 1686, Renwick was constrained to be more public and explicit in his testimony against the designs and defections of the time ; wherein he met with more contra- dictions and oppositions from all hands, and more discouraging and distracting treat- : ment, even from some who once followed him ; and was much troubled with letters of accusation against him from many hands. One of the ministers that came over with Argyle wrote a very vindictive letter against him ; which letter he answered at large. He was also traduced, both at home and abroad, by one Alexander Gordon, who sometimes joined with that suffering party; but by none more than one Robert Cath- cart, in Carrick, who wrote a scurrilous libel against him, from which Renwick vin- dicated himself in the plainest terms. But this not satisfying the said Robert Cathcart, he did, in the name of his friends in Car- : rick, and the shire of Wigton, though without the knowledge of the half of them, i take a protest against Renwick’s preaching ! or conversing within their jurisdiction; j giving him occasion, with David, to com- plain, “ They speak vanity, their heart j gathereth iniquity; yea, mine own familiar i friend, in whom I trusted, hath lifted up his ! , heel against me.” JAMES RENWICK. 619 Notwithstanding all former obloquies he sustained from all sorts of opposers, he had one faithful and fervent wrestler on his side, Mr Alexander Peden ; and yet, a little before his death, these reproachers so far prevailed with him, as to instigate him to a declared opposition against Renwick ; which not only contributed to grieve him much, but was also an occasion of stum- bling to many* others of the well-affected, and to the confirmation of his opponents. Nevertheless, he continued to traverse the country, preaching, catechising, and bap- tizing ; travelling through Galloway, where he had to encounter a most insolent pro- testation given in against him, by the pro- fessors between Dee and Cree, subscribed by one Hutchison : a paper which he read over at a public meeting in that bounds, after a lecture from Psalm xv., and a ser- mon from Song ii. 2., informing the people what was done in their name, making J several animadversions thereon, as having a tendency to overturn several pieces of our valuable Reformation; exhorting them, if there were any who concurred therein, that they would speedily retract their hand from such an iniquity. Shortly after this, while his work was increasing daily on his hand, and his diffi- culties multiplying, his labours were dimin- ished by the help of Mr David Houston I from Ireland, and Mr Alexander Shields, which was very refreshing to him, as it furnished him with an answer to those who said, that he neither desired to join with another minister, nor so much as to meet with any other for joining. The first was already confuted ; and, as for the other, it is * Mr Peden on his deathbed sent for him, and, after some conference, owned that he had been mis- informed anent him ; exhorting him to go forward, and he would be carried honestly through ; asking his forgiveness, and desiring him to pray with him before he departed ; all which Renwick did with great cheerfulness. well known how far he travelled both in Scotland and England, to meet with minis- ters for a coalescence, which they supercili- ously refused. He once sent a friend for that purpose to a minister of great note in Glendale in Northumberland ; but he peremptorily refused. At a previous time, in the same country, happening to be in a much respected gentlewoman’s house, where providentially Dr Rule came to visit, Ren- wick, in another room, overheard him for- bidding her by many arguments to entertain or countenance him if he should come that way. Upon this he sent for the Doctor, and informed him that the same person was in the hduse, and that he wished to converse with him on that head ; but this he refused. After this, one informed against him to the ministers in Holland, who returned back with Mr Brakel’s advice to Renwick and others : but as it relished of a gospel spirit, not like that of his informers, it was no way offensive to him. Mr Roelman, ano- ther famous Dutch divine, and a great sympathizer once with Renwick and that afflicted party, by their information turned also his enemy, which was more weighty to him that such a great man should be so credulous : but all these things never moved him, being fully resolved to suffer this and more for the cause of Christ. In 1687, a proclamation was issued, Feb- ruary 12, tolerating the moderate Presby- terians to meet in their private houses to hear the indulged ministers, while the field- meetings should be prosecuted with the utmost rigour of law. A second procla- mation was given, June 28, allowing all to serve God in their own way, in any house. A third was emitted, October 5 , declaring that all preachers and hearers at any meetings in the open fields should be prosecuted with the utmost severity that law would allow; and that all Dissenting ministers who preach in houses should teach nothing that should alienate the SCOTS WORTHIES. 620 hearts of the people from the government ; and that the privy-counsellors, sheriffs, &c., should be acquainted with the places set apart for their preaching. This proclama- tion, it seems, was granted as an answer to an address for the toleration given in, in name of all the Presbyterian ministers, July 21, 1687. Upon this, Renwick found it his duty not only to declare against the granters, but also against the accepters of this tole- ration; warning also the people of the hazard of their accession to it. At this the indulged were so incensed, that no sooner was their meeting well settled, than they began to evince their malignity, by calling him an intruder, a Jesuit, a white devil going through the land carrying the devil’s white flag; and asserting that he had done more hurt to the Church of Scot- land than its enemies had done these twenty years. To render him odious, they also circulated papers through the country, as given under his hand. Yet, though he was not only the butt of the wicked, but the scorn of professors also, who were at their ease, he still continued at his work, his inward man increasing more and more, when his outward man was much decayed ; and his zeal for ful- filling his ministry, and finishing his testi- mony, increasing the more, the less peace and accommodation he could find in the world. At the same time he became so weak, that he could not mount or sit on horseback, and behoved to be carried to the place of preaching. In the mean time, the persecution against him was so furious, that, in less than five months after the toleration, fif- teen most desperate searches were made for him. To encourage which, a proclama- ; tion was made, October 18, offering a re- I ward of £100 sterling to any one who I would bring in the persons of him and some others, either dead or alive. approaching the limits of his course, he ran very fast, and wrought very hard, both as ! a Christian and as a minister. Having for | some time had a design to emit something j by way of testimony against both the gran- j ters and accepters of the toleration that I might afterwards stand on record, he went | towards Edinburgh ; and on his way, at Peebles, very narrowly escaped being appre- hended. While at Edinburgh, he was un- j easy till he got that delivered, which, with the concurrence of some others, he had drawn up in form ; and, upon inquiry, hear- ing that there was to be no presbytery nor synod of tolerated ministers for some time, he went to Mr Hugh Kennedy, who he heard was moderator, and delivered a pro- testation into his hands ; and then, for sev- eral reasons, emitted it in public as his testimony against the toleration. From thence he went to Fife, and preach- ed several Sabbaths, and, upon the 29th of January, delivered his last sermon at Bor- i rowstounness. Then he returned to Edin- burgh, and lodged in a friend’s house in the Castlehill, who dealt in uncustomed goods ; and, wanting his former circumspection — his time being come — one John Justice, a waiter, discovered the house that very night; and, hearing him praying in the family, sus- pected who it was, attacked the house next morning, February 1, and, pretending to search for smuggled goods, they got en- j trance ; and when Renwick came to the door, Mr Justice challenged him in these words, “ My life for it, this is Mr Renwick ! ” After which he went to the street, crying for assistance to carry the dog Renwick to the guard. In the mean time, Renwick and other j two friends essayed to make their escape at : another door, but were repelled by the waiters. On this he discharged a pistol, which made the assailants give way ; but as he passed through them, one with a long JAMES RENWICK. staff hit him on the breast, which doubtless disabled him from running. Going down * the Castle-wynd, towards the head of the Cowgate, having lost his hat, he was taken notice of, and seized by a fellow on the street, while the other two escaped. He was taken to the guard, and there kept some time. — One Graham, captain of the guard, seeing him of a little stature, and comely youthful countenance, cried, “ What ! is this the boy Renwick that the nation hath been so much troubled with?” At the same time, one bailie Charters com- ing in, with great insolence accused him of licentious practices, which he replied to with deserved disdain. Then he was car- ried before a quorum of the council ; and when Graham delivered him off his hand, he was heard to say, “ Now, I have given Renwick up to the Presbyterians, let them do with him what they please.” What passed here could not be learned. He was committed close prisoner, and laid in irons ; where, as soon as he was left alone, he betook himself to prayer to his God, making a free offer of his life to him, requesting for through-bearing grace, and that his enemies might be restrained from torturing his body ; all which requests were signally granted, and by him thankfully acknowledged before his execution. Before he received his indictment, he was taken before the chancellor, into the viscount of Tarbet’s lodging, and there examined concerning his owning the autho- rity of James VII., the cess, and carrying arms at field-meetings, and delivered him- self with such freedom and boldness as astonished all present. The reason why he was interrogated anent the cess was, that a pocket-book was found about him, in which were the notes of two sermons he had preached on these points which he owned. There were also some capitals in the same book ; and because the committee was urgent to know these names, partly to 621 avoid torture, and knowing they could ren- der the persons no more obnoxious, he in- ! genuously declared the truth of the matter; j which ingenuity did much allay their rage against him ; and being asked by the Chan- cellor, What persuasion he was of? He answered, Of the Protestant Presbyterian persuasion. Again, How it came to pass he differed so much from other Presby- terians, who had accepted of the tolera- tion, and owned the king’s authority ? and what he thought of them ? He answered, He was a Presbyterian, and adhered to the old Presbyterian principles, principles which all were obliged by the covenant to main- tain, and were once generally professed and maintained by the nation from 1640 to ! 1660, from which they had apostatized for | a little liberty, they knew not how long, as you yourselves have done for a little honour. The chancellor replied, and the rest ap- plauded, That they believed that these were the Presbyterian principles, and that all Presbyterians would own them as well as he, if they had but the courage. However, j on February 3, he received his indictment upon the three foresaid heads, viz., disown- [ ing the king’s authority, the unlawfulness of paying the cess, and the lawfulness of defensive arms. All wliich he was to an- swer on February 8. To the indictment was added a list of forty-five, out of which the jury was to be chosen, and a list of the witnesses to be brought against him. After receiving his indictment, his mother got access to see him, to whom he spoke many savoury words. And on Sab- bath, February 5, he regretted that now he must leave his poor flock ; and declared, ! “ That if it were his choice — he could not think of it without terror — to enter again into, and venture upon, that conflict with a body of sin and death ; yet, if he were again to go and preach in the fields, he durst not vary in the least, nor flinch one hair -breadth from the testimony, but would look on him- SCOTS WORTHIES. [622 ! self as obliged to use the same freedom and faithfulness as he had done before.” And in a letter, on February 6, he desired that dhe persons whose names were deciphered might be acquainted with it; and concludes, I desire none may be troubled on my behalf, but rather rejoice with him, who with hope and joy is waiting for his coro- nation hour.” Another time, his mother I asked him how he was ; he answered, he i was well ; but that since his last examina- j tion he could, scarcely pray. At which she j looked on him with an affrighted counte- | nance, and he told her, he could hardly pray, being so taken up with praising, 'and j ravished with the joy .of the Lord. When i his mother was expressing her fear of faint- ing, saying, “ How shall I look upon that head and those hands set up among the rest on the port of the city ? ” He smiled, ‘telling her, she should not see that; for, I said he, I have offered my life unto the | Lord, and have sought that he may bind them up ; and I am persuaded that they shall not be permitted to torture my body, | nor touch one hair of my head farther. He was at first much afraid of the tor- i tures ; but now, having obtained a persua- sion that these were not to be his trials, 1 ; through grace he was helped to say, “ That | ! the terror of them was so removed, that he | would rather choose to be cast into a cal- ! dron of boiling oil, than do anything that might wrong truth.” When some other ; friends were permitted to see him, he ex- horted them to make sure their peace with I God ; and to study steadfastness in His ways ; and when they regretted their loss of him, j he said, “ They had more need to thank the Lord, that he should now be taken away from these reproaches* which had * For, besides these reproaches already noticed, with many others, he and his followers were charged as men of anarchical, murdering, and bloody princi- ples, which makes it the less wonder that their suc- I cessors should be charged with the same. broken his heart, and which could not otherwise be wiped off, even though he should get his life, without yielding in the least.” Monday, February 8, he appeared before the justiciary* and when his indictment was read, the justice-clerk asked him, If he ad- hered to his former confession, and acknow- ledged all that was in the libel ? He an- swered, “ All except where it is said I have cast off all fear of God : that I deny; for it is because I fear to offend God, and violate ! his law, that I am here standing ready to be ; condemned.” Then he was interrogated. If he owned authority, and James VII. to! be his lawful sovereign ? He answered, “ I I own all authority that hath its prescrip- j! tions and limitations from the word of God; ! but cannot own this usurper as lawful king, j j seeing, both by the word of God such an ! one is incapable to bear rule, and likewise by the ancient laws of the kingdom, which admit none to the crown of Scotland, until he swear to defend the Protestant religion ; which a man of his profession could not do.” They urged, Could he deny him to be king? Was he not the late king’s brother ? Had the late king any children lawfully begotten ? Was he not declared to be his successor by act of parliament ? He answered, “ He was no doubt king de facto , but not de jure ; that he was brother j to the other king, he knew nothing to the ' contrary ; what children the other had he knew not : but from the word of God, that ! ought to be the rule of all laws, or from j j the ancient laws of the kingdom, it could not be shown that he had, or ever could have any right.” The next question was, If he owned, and had taught it to be unlaw- ful to pay cesses and taxations to his ma- jesty ? He answered, “ For the present cess, enacted for the present usurper, I hold it unlawful to pay it, both in regard it is oppressive to the subject, for the main- tenance of tyranny, and because it is im- | JAMES RENWICK. 623 posed for suppressing the gospel. Would it have been thought lawful for the Jews, in the days of Nebuchadnezzar, to have brought every one a coal to augment the flame of the furnace to devour the three children, if so they had been required by I that tyrant ? ” Next they moved the question, If he owned he had taught his hearers to come armed to their meetings, and, in case of opposition, to resist ? He answered, “ It were inconsistent with reason and religion both to do otherwise : you yourselves would do it in the like circumstances. I own that I taught them to carry arms to defend themselves, and resist your unjust violence.” Further, they asked, If he owned the note- book, and the two sermons written therein, and that he had preached them ? He said, “If ye have added nothing, I will own it; and am ready to seal all the truths contained therein with my blood.” — All his confession being read over, he was required to subscribe it. He said, “ He would not do it, since he looked on it as a partial owning of their authority.” After refusing several times, he said, “ With protestation, I will sub- scribe the paper as it is my testimony, but not in obedience to you.” Then the assizers were called in by fives,* * And it is to be remarked, that many of the jury were professors, and eminent in the tolerated meetings ; while others, even of the malignants, chose rather to run the hazard of the penalty ; as the laird of Torrence, who compeared not, and Som- merville, chamberlain of Douglas, who, though when he appeared, yet when he saw Renwick turn about and direct his speech to them, he ran away, saying, “ He trembled to think to take away the life of such a pious-like man, though they should take his whole estate.” The list of the assizers is as follows: — James Hume of Kimmergem; John Hume of Nine- wells ; John Martin, clerk to the manufactory; Alexander Martin, some time clerk of — ; Robert Halyburton, merchant ; Thomas Lawrie, merchant ; Archibald Johnston, merchant ; Thomas Wylie, merchant; James Hamilton, vintner; William Cockburn, merchant ; James Hamilton, jun., sta- and sworn;* against whom he objected nothing ; but protested, “ That none might j sit on his assize that professed Protestant or Presbyterian principles, or an adherence , to the covenanted work of Reformation.” | He was brought in guilty; and sentence j passed, That he should be executed in the j Grassmarket, on the Friday following. I Lord Linlithgow, justice-general, asked, If j he desired longer time ? He answered, i “ It was all one to him ; if it was protracted, i it was welcome ; if it was shortened, it was welcome ; his Master’s time was the best.” j Then he was returned to prison. With- out his knowledge, and against his will, j yea, after open refusing to the advocate to | desire it, he was reprieved to the 17th day ; J which gave occasion to severals to renew their reproaches. Though none who suffered in the former part of this dismal period spoke with more fortitude, freedom, and boldness, than Ren- wick, yet none were treated with so much moderation. The lenity of the justiciary was much admired beyond their ordinary ; for they admitted him to say what he pleased, without threatening and interrup- tion, even though he gave none of them the title of lord, except Linlithgow, who was a nobleman by birth. And though his friends — which was not usual after sentence — were denied access, yet both Papists and Episcopalians were permitted to see him. Bishop Paterson often visited him ; nay, he sought another reprieve for him, which would easily have been granted, had he only petitioned for it. The bishop asked him, Think you none can be saved but those of your principles ? He answered, “ I never said nor thought, that none could be saved except they were of these princi- ples; but these are truths which I suffer tioner ; Robert Currie, stationer; Joseph Young, merchant; John Cunningham, merchant in Glas- gow ; Ninian Bannantine of Kaims, Chancellor. 624 SCOTS WORTHIES. for, and which I have not rashly concluded on, but deliberately, and of a long time have been confirmed, that they are suffi- cient points to suffer for.” The bishop took his leave, declaring his sorrow for his being so tenacious, and said, “ It had been a great loss he had been of such principles, | for he was a pretty lad.” Again, the night before he suffered, he sent to him, to signify his readiness to serve him to the utmost of his power. Renwick thanked him for his 1 courtesy, hut knew nothing he could do, or that he could desire. Mr M‘ Naught, one of the curates, made him a visit in his canonical habit, which ! Renwick did not like. The curate, among other things, asked his opinion concerning the toleration, and those that accepted it. Renwick declared, that he was against the toleration ; but as for them that embraced it, he judged them to be godly men. The curate leaving him, commended him for one of great gravity and ingenuity. Dal- rymple, the king’s advocate, came also to j visit him, and declared that he was sorry for his death, and that it should fall out in his short time. Several popish priests and | gentlemen of the guard, with some of the tolerated ministers, were permitted to con- verse with him. The priest, at leaving him, was overheard saying, he was a most l obstinate heretic ; for he had used such freedom with him that it became a proverb in the tolbooth at the time, “ Begone, as Mr Renwick said to the priests.” Several petitions were written from sev- eral hands, of the most favourable strain that could be invented, and sent him to subscribe, but all in vain ; yea, it was of- fered to him, if he would but let a drop of ink fall on a bit of paper, it would satisfy : but he would not. In the mean time, he was kept so close that he could get nothing wrote. His begun testimony which he was writing was taken from him, and pen and ink removed. On Tuesday the 14th, he was brought before the council on account of the infor- i matory vindication ; but what passed there cannot be learned, farther than their signi- fying how much kindness they had shown him, in that they had reprieved him with- out his application, a thing never done i before. He answered with extraordinary cheerfulness, rejoicing, that he was counted worthy to suffer shame for the name of his Master. A friend asking him, How he was ? He said, Very well ; and he would be better within three days. He told his mother, That the last execution he was wit- ness to, was Robert Gray’s : and that he had a strong impression on his mind that he should be the next : and often said, He saw need for his suffering at this time ; and that he was persuaded his death would do j more good than his life for many years could have done. Being asked, What he ! thought God would do with the remnant behind him? He answered, It would be well with them ; for God would not forsake nor cast off his inheritance. On the day of his execution, the chief jailor begged that, at the place of execu- tion, he would not mention the causes of his death, and would forbear all reflections. Renwick told him, That what God would give him to speak, that would he speak, and nothing less. The jailor told him that he might still have his life, if he would but sign that petition which he offered him. He answered, That he never read in scrip- 1 ture, or in history, where martyrs petitioned for their lives, when called to suffer for truth, though they might require them not to take their life, and remonstrate the j wickedness of murdering them ; but in the present circumstance he judged it would be found a receding from truth, and a declining j from a testimony for Christ. His mother and sisters having obtained leave to see him, after some refreshment, in , 1 returning thanks, he said, “ 0 Lord, thou i JAMES RENWICK. 625 hast brought me within two hours of eter- nity, and this is no matter of terror to me, more than if I were to lie down in a bed of roses ; nay, through grace, to thy praise, I may say I never had the fear of death since I came to this prison ; but from the place where I was taken, I could have gone very composedly to the scaffold. O ! how can I contain this, to be within two hours of the crown of glory ! ” He exhorted them much to prepare for death; 44 For it is,” said he, “ the king of terrors, though not to me now, as it was sometimes in my ! hidings ; but now let us be glad and rejoice, for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready. Would ever I have thought that the fear of suf- fering and of death could be so taken from me ? But what shall I say to it ? It is the doing of the Lord, and marvellous in our eyes. I have many times counted the cost of following Christ, but never thought it would be so easy ; and now who knows the honour and happiness of that, 4 He that confesseth me before men, him will I confess before the Father ?’” He said many times, 44 Now I am near the end of time; I desire to bless the Lord, it is an inexpressibly sweet and satisfying peace to me, that he hath kept me from complying with enemies in the least.” Perceiving his mother weep, he exhorted her to remem- ber, that they who loved anything better than Christ, were not worthy of him. 44 If ye love me, rejoice that I am going to my Father, to obtain the enjoyment of what eye hath not seen,” &e. Then he went to prayer, wherein he ran out much in praise, and pleaded much in behalf of the suffering remnant; that the Lord would raise up witnesses that might transmit the testi- mony to succeeding generations, and that the Lord would not leave Scotland; as- serting, with great confidence of hope, that he was strengthened in the hope of it, that the Lord would be gracious to Scotland. At length, hearing the drums beat for I ; the guard, he fell into a transport, saying, j 44 Yonder the welcome warning to my mar- j riage ; the bridegroom is coming ; I am ready, I am ready.” Then taking his leave of his mother and sisters, he entreated them | not to be discouraged; for, ere all were done, they should see matter of praise in that day’s work. He was taken to the low I council-house, as was usual, where, after ! his sentence was read, they desired him to speak what he had to say there. He said, j 44 I have nothing to say to you, but that , which is written in Jer. xxvi. 14, 15. 4 As for me, behold, I am in your hand,”’ &c. He was told that the drums would beat at the scaffold all the time, and, therefore, i they desired him to pray there ; but he re- j fused, and declared he would not be limited j in what he would say, and that he had premeditated nothing, but would speak I what was given him. They offered him i any minister to be with him ; but he an- j swered, 44 If I would have had any of them | for my counsellors or comforters, I should j ! not have been here this day. I require j none with me but this one man” — meaning ; j the friend that was waiting upon him. He went from thence to the scaffold j with great cheerfulness, as one in a trans- j port of triumphant joy, and had the greatest crowd of spectators that has perhaps been seen at any execution ; but little was heard, on account of the beating of the drums all | j the time without intermission, from his first j ascending the scaffold until he was cast j I over. Yet, from the friends and others j j permitted to attend him, there were some of his last words collected. When he went first unto the scaffold, ! some forbade him to speak anything ; be- cause the people could not hear ; which he took no notice of. There was a curate standing at the side of the scaffold, who, j tempting him, said, 44 Own our king, and ; j we shall pray for you.” He answered, 44 I 4 K 626 SCOTS WORTHIES. will have none of your prayers ; I am come to bear my testimony against you, and such as you are.” The curate said, “ Own our king, and pray for him, whatever you say against us.” He replied, “ I will discourse no more with you ; I am within a little to appear before him who is King of kings, and Lord of lords, who shall pour shame, contempt, and confusion, upon all the kings of the earth who have not ruled for him.” Then he sang Psalm ciii., read Rev. xix. ; then prayed, commending his soul to God through the Redeemer, and his cause to be vindicated in his own time ; and appealed to the Lord if this was not the most joyful day he ever saw in the world, a day that he had much longed for. He insisted much in blessing the Lord in honouring him with the crown of martyrdom, an honour which the angels were not privi- leged with, being incapable of laying down their lives for their princely Master. He complained of being disturbed in worship- ping God : but, said he, “ I shall be above these clouds ; then shall I enjoy thee, and glorify thee, wdthout interruption, or inter- mission, for ever.” Here they made him desist, and go up the ladder, where he prayed, and said, “ Lord, I die in the faith that thou wilt not leave Scotland, but that thou wilt make the blood of thy witnesses the seed of thy church, and return again and be glorious in our land. And now, Lord, I am ready ; the bride, the Lamb’s wife, hath made herself ready.” The napkin being tied about his face, he said to his friend attending, “ Farewell ; be diligent in duty, I make your peace with God through Christ, j There is a great trial coming. As to the I remnant I leave, I have committed them j to God. Tell them from me not to weary j nor be discouraged in maintaining the testi- j mony,and the Lord will provide you teachers I and ministers ; and when he comes, he will j make these despised truths glorious in the L 1 . earth.” He was turned over, with these words in his mouth, “ Lord, into thy hands j I commend my spirit, for thou hast re- ! deemed me, Lord God of truth.” Thus died the faithful, pious, and zealous ! Renwick, on the third day over the 26th j year of his age, a young man, and a young [ minister, but a ripe Christian, and renowned j martyr of Christ, for whose sake he loved not his life unto the death, by whose blood, j and the word of his testimony, he over- came, and thus got above all snares and sorrow, and, to the conviction of many that formerly reproached him, was as signally | vindicated of, as he was in his life shame- fully reproached with, all the aspersions, obloquies, and calumnies, that were cast upon him for prosecuting that testimony j for truth, which now he sealed with his blood, in such a treasure of patience, meek- ness, humility, constancy, courage, burning j love, and blazing zeal, as did very much confound enemies, convince neutrals, con- j firm halters, comfort friends, and astonish j all. He was of stature somewhat low, of a fair complexion, and, like another young ij David, of a ruddy and beautiful counte- j nance. Most men spoke well of him after he was dead ; even his murderers, as well as others, said, they thought he went to heaven. Malignants generally said, he died a Presbyterian. The viscount of Tarbet, one of the counsellors, one day in company, when speaking of him, said, “ That he was one of the stiffest maintainers of his princi- ples that ever came before them. Others we used always to cause one time or other to waver, but him we could never move. Where we left him, there we found him. We could never make him yield or vary in the least. He was the man we have seen most plainly and pertinaciously adhering to the old way of Presbyterian government, who, if he had lived in Knox’s days would not have died by any laws then in being.” JAMES RENWICK. 627 He was the last that on a scaffold sealed his testimony for religion, liberty, and the cove- nanted work of Reformation in Scotland. TESTIMONY OF JAMES RENWICK, THE DAY BEFORE HIS SUFFERING. “ My dear friends in Christ, it hath pleased the Lord to deliver me into the hands of men ; and I think fit to send you this salu- tation, which I expect will be the last. When I open my heart upon it, before God, I dare not desire to have escaped this lot ; for no less could have been for his glory and the vindication of his cause on my be- half : and as I am free before him of the profanity, which some, either naughty, wicked, or strangers to me, have reported, that I have been sometimes guilty of ; so he hath kept me from the womb, free of the ordinary pollutions of children, as these that have been acquainted with me through the tract of my life, do know. And now my blood shall either more silence re- proaches, or more ripen them for judgment: but I hope it shall make some more spar- ing to speak of those who shall come after me ; and so I am the more willing to pay this cost for their instruction, and my suc- ceeded’ ease. Since I came to prison, the Lord has been wonderfully kind to me ; he hath made his word to give me light, life, joy, courage, and strength ; yea, it hath dropped with sweet swelling myrrh unto me, particularly these passages and pro- mises, Gen. xxii. 12, latter part of the verse, ‘ For now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son.’ Neh. viii. 10., latter part of the verse, 4 Neither be you sorry, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.’ Job iii. 17. 4 There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest.’ Ver. 18. 4 There the prisoners rest together, they hear not the voice of the oppressor.’ Job xxiii. 10. 4 But he knoweth the way that I take : when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.’ Ver. 11. 4 My foot hath held his steps, his way have I kept, and not declined.’ Ver. 12. 4 Neither have I gone back from the commandment of his lips, I have esteemed the words of his mouth, more than my necessary food.’ Ver. 13. 4 But he is in one mind, and who can turn him ? and what his soul desireth, even that he doth.’ Ver. 14. 4 For he performeth the thing that is appointed for me: and many such things are with him.’ Psalm cv. 19. 4 The word of the Lord tried him.’ Luke xxi. 12. 4 But before all these they shall lay their hands on you, and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues, and into prisons, being brought before kings for my name’s sake.’ Ver. 13. 4 And it shall turn to you for a testimony.’ Ver. 19. 4 In your patience possess ye your souls.’ Heb. xii. 23. 4 To the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect.’ James i. 12. 4 Blessed is the man that en- duretli temptation : for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him.’ 1 Pet. v. 7. 4 Casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.’ Ver. 8. 4 Be sober, be vigilant ; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about seeking whom he may devour.’ Rev. iii. 8. 4 I know thy works : behold I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it ; for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name.’ Ver. 10. 4 Because thou hast kept the word of my patience, I also will keep thee from the hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them SCOTS WORTHIES. [628 I that dwell upon the earth.’ Ver. 11. £ Be- | hold I come quickly : hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.’ Ver. 12. * Him that overcometh will I | make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out : and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God; and I will write upon him my new name.’ Rev. xix. 20. 4 And the beast was taken, and with him the false prophet that wrought miracles before him, with which he deceived them that received the mark of the beast, and I them that worshipped his image. These j both were cast alive into a lake of fire burning with brimstone.’ Ver. 21. 4 And I the remnant were slain with the sword of ! j him that sat upon the horse, which sword ! proceedeth out of his mouth : and all the fowls were filled with their flesh.’ And many other scriptures. 44 O what can I say to the Lord’s praise ! It was but little that I knew of him before I came to prison ; I have found sensibly much of his divine strength, much of the joy of his Spirit, and much assurance from his word and Spirit concerning my salvation ; my sufferings are stated upon the matters of my doctrine, for there was found with me the sum of my last two ser- mons at Braid’s -craigs, which I wrote after I preached them ; the former whereof was upon Psalm lxvi. 10. 4 Be still and know that I am God ; I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.’ And the latter upon Heb. x. 28. 4 Now the just shall live by faith: but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.’ And so I was examined upon the application made therein unto the sins of the time : all which I owned once and j and I being tried, and an assize set, I ad- hered to my former confession explicitly ; so my sentence of death was drawn forth upon these heads : 44 First , Because I could not own James VII. to be my lawful sovereign. 44 Secondly , Because I taught the unlaw- j fulness of paying the cess, expressly exacted i for the suppressing the faithful and free '■ preaching of the gospel. 44 Thirdly , Because I taught that it was j the people’s duty to carry arms at the j preaching of the gospel, now when it is persecuted, for defending themselves, and | resisting of unjust violence. 44 1 think such a testimony is worth many j lives, and I praise the Lord for his en- j abling me to be plain and positive in all | my confessions : for therein I found peace, joy, strength, and boldness. I have met ; with many assaults in prison, some from the indulged party, and others from some of the prelatic ; but, by the strength of God, I was enabled to stand, that they could neither I bow me, nor break me. I was also assaulted by some of the popish party — I suppose they were some of the ecclesiastical crea- tures — but they found none of their stuff in me. I told them, after sundry debatings, that I had lived, and should die an enemy ' to their way. However, some that knew me not, reproached me with Jesuitism. I was pressed by sundry to seek a reprieve, and my answer was always, that I adhered to my former confession, and if they pleased to let that appointed time of my death stand, let it stand ; and if they pleased to protract it, let them protract it ; for I was | ready and willing both to live and die ; ! howbeit there came a reprieve for eight Ij days, but I had no hand in it. They still ! j urged, would I but say that I desired time for conference with some persons anent my principles : I answered that my time was j in the Lord’s hand, and I was in no hesi- j tation or doubt about my principles my- I self ; I would not be so rude as to decline conference with any, so far as it might not j JAMES RENWICK. 629 j be inconvenient for me in my present cir- | cum stances, but I will seek it with none. I have no more to say on this head, but my heart doth not smite me for anything in the matters of my God, since I came to prison. And I can further say to his praise, with consciousness of integrity, that I have walked in his way, and kept his charge, though with much weakness and many infirmities, whereof ye have been witnesses. “ Now, my dear friends in precious Christ, I think I need not tell you, that as I have lived, so I die in the same persuasion with the true reformed and covenanted Presby- terian Church of Scotland ; that I adhere j to the testimony of the day, as it is held ! forth in our Informatory Vindication, and | in the Testimony against the present tole- ! ration ; and that I own, and seal with my blood, all the precious truths, even the con- ! troverted truths, that I have taught. So I would exhort every one of you to make I sure your personal reconciliation with God in Christ : for I fear many of you have that j yet to do ; and when ye come where I am, to look pale death in the face, ye will not be a little shaken and terrified, if ye have not laid hold on eternal life. I would ex- hort you to much diligence in the use of means, to be careful in keeping up your societies, to be frequent and fervent in se- cret prayer, to read much the written word of God, and to examine yourselves by it. Do not weary to maintain, in your places and stations, the present testimony; for I I when Christ goes forth to defeat antichrist, j j with that name written on his thigh and on j his vesture, Kino of kings and Lord of i lords, he will make it glorious in the earth: and if ye can but transmit it to posterity, ye may count it a great genera- tion-work. But, beware of the ministers that have accepted of this toleration, and all others that bend that way ; and follow them not, for the sun hath gone down upon them. Do not fear that the Lord will cast off Scotland ; for he will certainly return again, and show himself glorious in our land. But watch and pray, for he is bringing on a sad overthrowing stroke, which shall make many say, That they have got easily through that have got a scaffold for Christ ; and do not regard the present sufferings of this world, for ‘ they are not worthy to be compared to the glory that shall be revealed.’ “ I may say to his praise, that I have found his cross sweet and lovely unto me, for I have had many joyful hours, and not a fearful thought since I came to prison ; he has strengthened me to brave man and face death, and I am now longing for the joyful hour of my dissolution ; and there is nothing in the world that I am sorry to leave but you : but I go to better company, and so I must take my leave of you all. Farewell beloved sufferers, and followers of the Lamb ; farewell Christian intimates ; farewell Christian and comfortable mother and sisters ; farewell sweet societies ; fare- well desirable general meetings ; farewell night- wan derings in cold and weariness for Christ; farewell sweet Bible and preach- ing of the gospel ; farewell sun, moon, and stars, and all sublunary things ; farewell conflicts with a body of sin and death. Welcome scaffold for precious Christ ; wel- come heavenly Jerusalem ; welcome innu- merable company of angels ; welcome gen- eral assembly and church of the first-born ; welcome crown of glory, white robes, and songs of Moses and the Lamb ; and, above all, Welcome, O thou blessed Trinity and one God ! O eternal One ! I commit my soul into thy eternal rest. “ Sic sub. — James Renwick.” LETTER TO HIS CHRISTIAN FRIENDS. “ My dear friends in Christ, I see now what hath been the language of my reprieve: SCOTS WORTHIES. 630 it hath been that I might be further tempted and tried ; and I praise the Lord he hath assisted me to give further proofs of stead- fastness ; I have been often assaulted by some popish priests ; but the last time they came, I told them I would debate no more with such as they were, and that I had lived and would die a Protestant, and testify against the idolatries, heresies, supersti- tions, and errors of that antichristian way. But yesterday I was cast into a deep exer- cise, and made to dwell under an impres- sion of the dreadfulness of everything that might grieve the Spirit of God. I found sin to be more bitter than death, and one hour’s hiding of God’s face more insupport- able. And then, at night, I was called be- fore part of the council, when the chancellor produced the Informatory Vindication, and asked if I knew it : I answered, I know it. And, being interrogated, I confessed that I had a great hand in writing of it : they pressed me to tell my assistants : I told them they were those whom they perse- cuted ; but would satisfy them no further. They also urged me, upon pain of torture, to tell where our societies were ; who kept our general correspondences ; and where they were kept ? I answered, though they should torture me, which was contrary to all law, after sentence of death, I would give them no further notice than the books gave. I was, moreover, threatened to tell my haunts and quarters, but I refused to make known to them any such thing : so I was returned to prison. Such exercises as I had were very needful to me for such a trial ; and I would rather endure what they could do unto me, than have dishonoured Christ, offended you, and brought you unto trouble. — But I hope, within less than three days, to be without the reach of all temptations. Now I have no more to | say: — Farewell again in our blessed Lord Jesus.” LAST WORDS UPON THE SCAFFOLD. “ Spectators, or (if there be any of you) auditors, I must tell you I am come here this day to lay down my life for adhering to the truths of Christ, for which I am neither afraid nor ashamed to suffer ; nay, I bless the Lord that ever he counted me worthy, or enabled me to suffer anything for him ; and I desire to praise his grace, that he I hath not only kept me free from the gross ! pollutions of the time, but also from many j ordinary pollutions of children ; and such as I have been stained with he hath washed me from them in his own blood. I am this day to lay down my life for these three things. 1. For disowning the usurpations and tyranny of James duke of York. 2. For preaching that it was unlawful to pay the cess, expressly exacted for bearing down the gospel. 3. For preaching that it was lawful for people to carry arms for defend- ing themselves in their meetings for the persecuted gospel-ordinances. I think the testimony for these is worth many lives, and if I had ten hundred I would think it little enough to lay them all down for the same. “ Dear friends, spectators, and (if any of you be) auditors, I must tell you that I die a Presbyterian Protestant. I own the Word of God as the rule of faith and man- ners. I own the Confession of Faith, Larger and Shorter Catechisms, Sum of Saving Knowledge, Directory for Worship, &c., Covenants, National and Solemn League, acts of General Assemblies, and all the faithful contendings that have been for the work of Reformation. I leave my tes- timony approving the preaching of the gos- pel in the fields, and the defending of the same by arms. I adjoin my testimony to I all that hath been sealed by blood, shed either on scaffolds, fields, or seas, for the cause of Christ. 1 leave my testimony j JAMES RENWICK. 631 against popery, prelacy, Erastianism, &c.; against all profanity, and everything con- trary to sound doctrine ; particularly against all usurpations made on Christ’s right, who is the Prince of the kings of the earth, who alone must bear the glory of ruling his own kingdom, the church: and, in par- ticular, against the absolute power usurped by this usurper, that belongs to no mortal, but is the incommunicable prerogative of Jehovah ; and against this toleration flow- ing from this absolute power.” SUPPLEMENT. The period at which we have now arrived, as is generally known, witnessed the termination of capital convictions for nonconformity in religious professions, — Remvick having been the last in Scotland, who sealed with his blood, the testimony for civil and religious liberty. For twenty eight years previous, the flames of persecution had been raging with relentless fury; but the death of this holy and intrepid servant of God, seems to have covered the abettors of Episcopacy with shame for this their last act of condemnation. Many concomitant circumstances seem to have concurred to effect this ; but we believe nothing contributed more successfully to that end, than the purity and integrity of Renwick’s own life ; his meek and noiseless submission to the sentence of his tyrannical judges ; and the asseveration that his death would do more service to the cause of religion in Scotland, than his life, even if that should have been prolonged to the ordinary limits of humanity. It has been calculated that, during these twenty-eight years, upwards of 18,000 persons suffered death, or the utmost hardships and extremities of persecution ; of which number, 1700 were banished to the foreign plantations, — 150 to the northern islands of Scotland ; and 800 were executed. Those who suffered by imprisonment, and similar cruelties, were supposed to be about 2750; and the number of those who either fell in battle, or died of their wounds, is reckoned at 680; — 7000 are said to have gone into voluntary exile ; and 498 were murdered in cold blood ; besides 302 who were executed according to form of law. But of those who perished through cold, hunger, and fatigue, among the mountains ; or who were murdered by the unrestrained soldiers, it is impossible to speak with precision. It has been pretty accurately ascertained, however, that the aggregate number will not fall short of that mentioned above. We do not pretend in these Memoirs to have given anyt hin g like a complete account of all who testi- fied and suffered for the cause of truth in these lands, prior to the Revolution in 1688; for, in hundreds of cases, this would have been impossible ; the occupation of life in some, and the place in society of others, entirely precluding every facility of procuring even the outline of a regular biography. We have merely selected the Lives of the most distinguished and illustrious of those who either died, or suffered death or banishment from the commencement of the Reformation in the beginning of the 16th century, to the Revolution, in 1688, — a period that will ennoble the Presbyterian interest in Scotland, so long as the page of history endures. After the death of Renwick, it is not to be understood, however, that the sword of persecution ceased to destroy. The emissaries of the intolerant rulers, who then bore sway, were still as merciless as before. Soldiers were dispersed over the country, with a commission to investigate, discover, and punish alleged offenders ; and even to try, condemn, and put to death upon the spot. In compliance with these orders, and often by a stretch of authority, they entered the peaceful habitations of the religious peasantry, dis- turbed their quiet, wasted their substance, and goaded them on to resistance; after which they de- nounced them as rebels, and then subjected them to proscription, imprisonment, exile, or death. In all these ways, and indeed, by every act that malice could invent, or cruelty devise, were the Presby- terians of Scotland afflicted and persecuted, during what has been most appropriately styled the suffering period of their history. In the execution of their orders the soldiers were permitted to take free quarters wherever they pleased ; to examine men by torture ; and to compel women and children by threatening, scourging, burning with fire-matches and the like, to betray their husbands and parents, — and, when SCOTS WORTHIES. 632 found, they were sometimes shot without even the form of a mock-trial. But the tyrannous orders of the government were by no means confined to the humble peasantry. Families of rank and respecta- bility were subjected to the loss of all things ; solely because they would not go to hear the curates. Heavy fines were exacted ; confiscation of property ; everything that could be moved was either carried off or destroyed ; and when vengeance had done its utmost in this way, the hapless inmates were turned out to the mercy of the elements, and their patrimonial inheritance burned before their eyes. Upon one family in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright* the soldiers made good their quarters for fifteen weeks, till they had wasted and consumed the whole provision of the family; after which they destroyed the furniture and disfigured the house. Perhaps no family in Scotland suffered more than this one. Two of the sons were taken and executed after the battle of Pentland. One whole year’s crop of the estate was seized upon, and disposed of or destroyed. All their horses, cattle, and sheep were carried off*; and, when the persecutors had no more they could do there, they fell upon the tenants, and robbed and ruined them. Two of them they compelled to relinquish their farms, having threatened to burn the houses over their heads. It almost surpasses belief even to think of the cruelties and oppressions which our forefathers had to endure, for the sake of the Church of their Fathers, — what then must it have been to have borne them ! To give a full detail of these is not our intention, neither is it within our power. In the following Supplement we have selected those whose sufferings are best authenticated, and of whom most is known. * Gordon of Knockbreck. ALEXANDER MONCREEFF. In virtue of an act of the General Assembly, 1642, appointing a list of six able men for the planting of vacant churches, Moncrieflf was pitched upon for the church of Scoonie in Fife; and upon September 26, 1643, was received there with great satisfaction. After this he had an active hand in carrying on the work of Reformation, and was nominated in the commission for the affairs of the Kirk. In the years 1650 and 1651, he made a considerable figure among those called Protesters, and had a particular hand in the “ Western Remonstrance,” and the “ Causes of God’s Wrath,” which were drawn up about that time. During Cromwell’s usurpation, he suffered much on account of his loyalty in praying for the king ; upon account of which his house was often searched, and rifled by the English, and he himself obliged to seek concealment. Upon the Sabbath, he had spies set upon him, and was closely watched where he went after preaching. He was frequently pur- sued, and one time a party of horse came after him ; yet by a special providence got clear of them. A' little after he was seized by them in the neighbour- ing congregation, and imprisoned for some time.* After he was liberated, he was pitched upon as a person of great courage and magnanimity, to present the protestation and testimony! against the * Wodrow’s History, vol. I. p. 71, &c. + In this testimony, among other things, they say, “We do profess our dissatisfaction that the civil powers should take upon them to prescribe public humiliation and thanks- giving, with the causes and diets thereof, to all the ministers and members of the church, as being contrary to the well- warranted privileges and constant practice of the church it- self, and in its own nature introductory to greater encroach- toleration, and the errors and sectaries that then prevailed in church and state, given in October 1658, to General Monk, drawn up and signed by h i m self, Messrs Rutherford, James Guthrie, and many others. This he did with the greatest firm- ness, for which he was exposed to new extremities ; but what return he had for all his faithfulness and loyalty to the king comes immediately to be dis- covered. No sooner was the king restored and settled in his dominions, than this worthy and good man was involved in a new series of sufferings; for, being assembled at Edinburgh, with Mr James Guthrie, and eight others of his brethren, in August, 1660, where they drew up that humble supplication and address to the King, commonly called, “ The paper of the 23d of August,” they were all imprisoned in the castle of Edinburgh, except Mr Hay of Craig- nethan, who escaped. He continued under confinement until July 12, 1661, when, much about the same time with Mr James Guthrie, he had his indictment and charge chiefly for having had a principal share in the u Re- monstrance,” and in forming the “ Causes of God’s Wrath.” Refusing to retract anything in them, he was brought before the parliament several times; and their prosecution for his life was so hot, that the earl of Athol, and others in parliament, parti- cularly interested and concerned in this good man and his wife, being importuned by her to appear for him in parliament, dealt with her to endeavour to prevail with him to recede from some of his prin- ciples ; otherwise they told her, it was impossible to save his life. This excellent woman answered, ments, and putting into the hands of the civil powers, the modelling of the public worship of God, a thing most pro- perly ecclesiastic,” &c. * i I I ALEXANDER MONCRIEFF. 633 “That they all knew she was happy in a good husband, and she had a great affection for him, 1 and many children ; yet she knew him to be so steadfast to his principles, where his conscience was concerned, that nobody need deal with him on that head; for her part, before she should contribute anything that would break his peace with his Mas- ter, she would rather choose to receive his head at the cross.” About the same time, two ladies of j the first quality were pleased so far to concern | themselves in his case, as to provide a compliment ! in plate — which was not unusual at that time — and sent it to the advocate’s lady. Afterwards they j went and visited her on his behalf, but were told by her it was impossible to save his life ; and the compliment was again returned. Yet it was so overruled in providence, that Mon- crieff, being much respected, and his hardships almost universally regretted, upon account of his eminent piety, integrity, and uprightness, several of all ranks, and different persuasions, unknown to him, began to make application, and interpose for him, so that the spirit of some of his most violent persecutors began to abate. His process lingered, until, after a tedious imprisonment, he fell sick, and obtained the favour of confinement in Edinburgh. The parliament passed this sentence upon him, “That he, the said Mi’ Alexander Moncrieff, be for ever incapable of exercising any public trust, civil or ecclesiastic, within the kingdom, until, in the next session of parliament further orders be taken concerning him, and discharge him in the mean time to go to his parish.” And all this for owning before them his accession to the “ Remon- strance and Causes of God’s Wrath.” After this sentence, when living peaceably about eight or nine miles from his own parish, people be- gan to resort to him, and hear him preach ; upon which, under a most severe storm in the middle of winter, by virtue of an act made against him, he was ordered to remove twenty miles from his house and charge, and seven or eight from a bishop’s seat or royal burgh. He was thus with his family forced from his house, and obliged to wander in that great storm ; and yet, when he had removed to a place at a competent distance, even then he got a second order to remove further, till he was obliged to go to a remote place in the Highlands, where his God, who had 'all along countenanced and supported him wonderfully in his troubles, honoured him to be instrumental in the conversion of many. The persecution somewhat abating, he brought his family to Perth, for the education of his children, where he continued preaching the gospel ; a few at first, but afterwards a great many, attending his ministry. Being again informed against, a party i ' _ of the horse-guards were sent to apprehend him, i but he escaped, though his house was narrowly searched. This forced him from his family, and he was obliged to lurk a good while after this. At length he came with his family to Edinburgh, where he preached the gospel many years, under a series of persecutions. He was intercommuned in the year 1675 ; and his house and many other places, in and about the city, were narrowly searched for him ; yet he was always marvellously hid, of which many instances might be given. When he went to the country, many a time parties of the guard were sent in quest of him, and sometimes he would meet them in his return, and pass through the midst of them unknown. When he was one time lodged | in a remote part of the suburbs of Edinburgh, a j captain, with a party, searched every hou^e and chamber in the lane, but never entered into the house he was in, though the door was open. Again, when he was lurking in a private family without the walls of Edinburgh, a party was sent to apprehend him. Providentially he had gone out to walk by the house ; the party, observing him by his gravity to be a minister, said one to another, j “ That may be the man we are seeking!” “ Nay,” said another, “ he would not be walking there.” Again, when he was advertised that the soldiers were coming to search for him in his own house, he lingered till another minister came to him, and said, “ Sir, you must surely have a protection from Heaven, that you are so secure here, when the town is in such disorder, and a general search to be made.” Immediately he went off, and in a little after, Mon- crieff went out also. He was scarcely down stairs before the guard came up and searched his house. He took only a short turn in the street, and came back just as the guard went off. But the persecution growing still worse, he was obliged to disperse his family for some time. He was solicited, when in these circumstances, to leave the kingdom, and had an ample call to London- derry in Ireland ; yet he always declined to leave his native country, and in his pleasant way used to say, he would suffer where he had sinned, and essay to keep possession of his Master’s house, till he should come again. He had a severe sickness about the j beginning of June, 1680, in which time he uttered many heavenly expressions. But he recovered and continued in this the house of his pilgrimage until autumn, 1688, when he died and got above all sin and sorrow, after he had endured a great fight of affliction to obtain a crown of eternal life. He was mighty in prayer, and had some very remarkable answers to it. His memory was savoury a long time after his death. Many could bear wit- j ness that God was with him of a truth. He left 4 L J 634 SCOTS WORTHIES. many seals of his ministry in Fife, and was a most faithful and painstaking minister. His sufferings are a little hinted at in the “Fulfilling of the Scrip- tures,” though neither he nor his persecutors are mentioned there. ANGUS MACBEAN. Angus Macbean was born about 1656. After he had spent some time at the grammar school, where he made great proficiency, he went to the university of Aberdeen ; there also he began to dis- tinguish himself, no less for his great regard to practical religion — although he was yet of the Epis- copal persuasion — than for his extraordinary parts and abilities in learning. About this time the bishops, having found their mistake in sending men of little learning, and less religion, to the south and west parts of Scotland, where the people were much disaffected to them, applied to the professors of divinity to name some of the greatest abilities to be sent to these parts. Accordingly Professor Menzies selected Macbean from amongst all his students, to be sent to the town of Ayr ; but he did not continue long there, having got a call to be minister of Inverness, which he accepted, and was there admitted, December 29, 1683 ; and there he proved a very popular and zealous minister. He usually onee a- week lectured on a large portion of Scripture, which was not the custom then in that apostate and degenerate age. But notwithstanding his being in the highest esteem among the prevailing party, the constancy shown by the sufferers for the cause of truth, and the cruelty used towards them, made such deep impressions on his mind, as could never afterwards be rooted out or effaced. As a natural consequence of the toleration granted by the duke of York, Mass was openly set up in the castle of Inverness, against which Macbean preached publicly, and warned the people of the imminent danger the nation was then in. At this the priest was so in- censed, that he sent Macbean a letter, challenging him to a public dispute. This letter he received in a crowd on the weekly market, where he usually walked with some constables to prevent common swearing. He went to a shop, and there wrote such an answer to the priest as determined him to send no more challenges. The report of this having spread, some of king James 1 officers being there, entered into a resolution to go to church next Lord’s day, and to take him out of the pulpit in case he should utter anything to their prejudice. Of this he was informed late on Saturday, and by some friends was importuned to abstain from saying anything that might exasperate them. But he preached next day on Col. i. 18., and proved, that Christ was the sole king and head of his church, in opposition to both Popery and Erastianism; where- upon the officers got all up to execute their design, which the good man did not observe till he turned about — for they sat in a loft on the left side of the pulpit. Upon this he said with an authority that put them out of countenance, “ For these things I am become the song of drunkards on which they all sat down ; for it was when dr inkin g that they had formed that wicked design. From the Popish controversy he was led to a more serious inquiry into the merits of what was then the real contro- versy; and, after serious wrestling with God, and earnest prayer for light and direction from Him, in which he spent several nights in his garden, he at length determined fully to declare for the truth, whatever might be the consequence. Accordingly, in 1687, he declined to sit in the presbytery, but continued to preach. In August, the presbytery were informed, not only that he absented himself wilfully, but that he disowned the government of the church by archbishops, bishops, &c., and they appointed a committee to converse with him ; who having done so, at a subsequent diet reported that Macbean declared plainly to them, that he could not in conscience meet with them in their judica- tories any more ; that in entering the ministry under bishops he had acted against the force of strong convictions ; that he was convinced Presbytery was the only government God owned in these nations ; that he was fully determined to make all the satis- faction he could to the Presbyterians ; to preach for them and in their favour ; and that though he should be dispensed with, by bishop and presbytery, from keeping their meetings, he could not promise, that in his preaching he would not give ground of misconstruction to those that owned Prelacy. At the same time his colleague, Mr Gilbert Marshall, farther reported ; that Macbean, both in his public lectures and sermons, did so reflect upon the go - vernment of the church, as was like to make a schism at Inverness ; and therefore he had cited him to that meeting, to answer for his reproachful doctrine. Macbean did not appear before them ; nevertheless the magistrates prevailed with the presbytery to desist from proceeding against him at that time. But shortly thereafter, the presbytery referred him to the synod of Moray, who appointed a committee to join with the Presbytery of Inverness to deal with him. In the meantime Macbean went to church without his canonical habit ; publicly renounced Prelacy, and declared himself a Presbyterian ; and as he found THOMAS HOG. 635 I not freedom in the exercise of his charge, he de- 1 mitted it. He preached his farewell sermon on Job xxxiv. 31, 33. The scriptures he advanced and insisted on, as warrants for his conduct, were Isa. viii. 11 — 14; Jer. xv. 18 — 21; 2 Cor. vi. 16, 18; and to prove that Christ was the sole Head of the Church, Eph. v. 23 ; Col. i. 18 ; 1 Pet. ii. 7. Next Lord’s day he went to Ross, and there, in Mr Macgilligen’s meeting-house, preached the | truths he formerly opposed ; and some time there- after he preached at Inverness, till he was by order I of the council called to Edinburgh before them. On this surprising change and alteration, a great I opposition among the prevailing party soon appear- ed against him, which was the less to be wondered I at, as he embraced every opportunity of declaring for I the cause of truth, which they most violently opposed ; j and therefore the presbytery of Inverness sent one ! of their number to inform the bishop of Moray, | ; then at Glasgow, of the whole affair. But the bishop 1 1 dying at that time, the archbishop of St Andrews I i took the affair into his cognizance, and procured an i j order from the council to bring him to Edinburgh. | In consequence of which he was carried south in j January'-, 1688, in very tempestuous weather, and ! was called before the council, where he made a j bold and noble stand in defence of the truths he ! had so solemnly professed. One of the questions asked at him was, If he thought the king’s power was limited? To which he answered, “ He knew no power but the Almighty’s unlimited.” And though the council could not then find wherewith to attack him anent the state, yet, to please the j ! bishops, he must be imprisoned; and, upon the 27th of February thereafter, the archbishop of St An- drews convened him before himself and the bishop of Moray, and five doctors and ministers in Edin- burgh ; where, in virtue of his metropolitan capa- city, he deposed him from the exercise of his pas- toral office, and deprived him of all benefits that might accrue to him thereby, since the time of his wilful desertion ; with certification, if he should transgress therein, the sentence of excommunica- tion should be passed against him. Upon this he was ordered back to prison ; and, though the in- habitants of Inverness wrote, earnestly soliciting him to make some compliance, that they might be j favoured with his return ; yet he valiantly with- j stood their entreaties ; and by his answer, dated j July, 1688, he dissuaded them from insisting on his I return, as what he assured them would never hap- pen ; and condemns himself in the strongest man- ner for his adherence to prelacy, declaring against it in the most express terms, as antiscriptural as well as tyrannical. His confinement and the fa- tigue of his journey having given such a shock to his constitution — as his life was in danger — Sir Ro- bert Gordon of Gordonstoun, and Duncan Forbes of Culloden, offered a bail bond for 100,000 merks, to the earl of Perth, then chancellor, that they would present him when called upon, providing he was set at liberty ; but this he refused though in a very languishing condition in the tolbooth, where ! he remained till the earl of Perth made his escape, | ! when the Edinburgh mob set the prisoners at lib- | erty. After this he continued at Edinburgh, till February, 1689, when he joyfully finished his course in the Lord, in the 33d year of his age. Some days before, news came that the parliament of England had settled the crown on King William, who put an end to those bloody times, and that tyrannical government. Macbean without all doubt was a man both pious and learned, although at first brought up in the prelatical persuasion ; and when near his death, he frequently compared himself in this particular to Moses, who from mount Pisgah saw the land of promise ; but for his sinful compliance, as he always called it, would not be allowed to enter therein ; having some time before his death a firm belief of the amazing deliverance which the church and na- tion soon met with ; and left this mortal life, rejoic- ing in hope of the glory of God. THOMAS HOG. | Thomas Hog was born in 1628, in Tain, in the i county of Ross. His parents were careful to give | : their son a liberal education ; for which purpose he was early sent to school, and, from his commence- : ment of the study of letters, he discovered an un- common genius ; and soon made such proficiency as rendered him much respected during his youth. He was much addicted to the harmless diversions of that age ; yet they never abated his progress in his studies, nor his detestation of anything immo- ral, or unbecoming the character of a scholar. He was sent to the university in the New Town of Aberdeen, where he made great proficiency, and j was admitted Master of Arts, with the special approbation of the regents of the college. But though Hog was adorned with these natu- j ral and acquired accomplishments which constitute a truly amiable person, heightened with the lustre of an unblameable life ; yet as he himself acknow- ledged, he remained a stranger to the saving oper- j ations of the Spirit of God, till about 1638, when the arm of the Lord was graciously revealed in the revival of the work of Reformation, and the in- fluences of his grace poured out upon many through 636 SCOTS WORTHIES. j the nation ; and yet still, his conversation was strictly moral, and he frequented societies, con- versed and prayed with them ; was in the diligent use of means ; and in reference to the public state of religion and reformation, was sound, bold and resolute ; in his straits acknowledging the Lord bringing these his difficulties before him, to which he thought he got some notable returns ; yet upon all these he himself declared, that if he was then in a state of grace and salvation, he was not in that state afterwards ; for the whole of the following work, which by the Spirit and word of God was wrought on his heart, was founded on a strong and clear conviction of his having been at that time out of Christ, notwithstanding all the forementioned attainments. { What the manner and means of his saving con- version were, we are at a loss to describe ; only we | find he was under very deep and severe law-work, | and that his convictions were very close, particular j and pointed, setting his sin before him ; and that during his work, which was of long continuance, whole clouds of sin hung round him, so that he was brought well nigh to despair when chaplain to the Earl of Sutherland, where the work of God flourished in several souls about that house ; among | whom the butler was at the time under the same re- ! ligious impressions, unknown to Hog. The Count- J ess, however, who was an eminent Christian, want- j ed not some discernment of what was passing in the i mind of each, and particularly, as will appear by j what follows, in that of Hog. One time Hog, sitting alone in his chamber in j ! extreme anguish, nothing but wrath before him, was overtaken by a horrible temptation. It seems j as if the question had been put — Why do you con- j tinue under such intolerable extremity of distress ? — Put rather an end to a miserable life immediately. Upon this suggestion, he resented the temptation 1 and the tempter with indignation. His penknife, at ! which the enemy pointed, lying well sharpened up- 1 on the table, lest the assault should have been renewed, he rose and threw over the window ; after which he sat down, and fell a musing upon the intricacies of his distress. In the mean time the Countess, contrary to her custom, knocking gently | at the door, invited him to go and partake with her of a present of summer fruit : he went with her, and behaved so, that nothing could be known con- I cerning his former troubles. He discovered by her ; kind speech and behaviour, that she was either im- j pressed with his danger, or that she suspected some- ; thing to be wrong with him. After partaking of j the fruit, he returned to his room, and found the I I temptation mercifully removed. 1 1 As to the manner of his relief, we learn, in gene- ral, that from a knowledge of actual sin he w r as convinced of original sin, and led to regard that as j ! the grand source of all his misery. The Lord hav- j ing in this manner laid a solid, clear, and excellent 1 ! foundation, he was at length blessed with faith’s ! ; views of the glory of Christ in his offices and person ; which so ravished his soul as to render him most willing, through grace, to forego, endure, and in His strength, to adventure upon anything in his cause, and for his sake. But the most considerable adventure, while in this family, was that of his being the instrument to convert a young gentleman of the name of Munro, who frequented the house ; and, though of a sober deportment, yet void of real religion. He took great pleasure in Hog’s company, but wasted his time with idle, frothy, and useless discourse. He bore with him for some time, but pitying his case, he used all means possible with him ; till by divine grace he was wholly brought over from a state of nature into a state of grace ; and if he had visited Hog often before, he made many more visits to him after this ; but never gave him occasion to impeach him — for the gentleman became eminently gracious — and for an evidence that this free dealing was blessed, the good man in his after conduct so excelled in the virtues most opposed to his former l blemishes, that he was esteemed for accommodating J differences : and several gentlemen submitted their contests to him, and acquiesced in his sole deter- [ mination. After Llog was settled at Killearn, this gentle- man made him a visit ; where, after other mutual i endearments, the gentleman addressed Hog in this amazing dialect : — “ Sir, my course is nigh finished, and I am upon my entrance into a state of eternal rest. The Lord hath his own way of giving the watchful Christian previous warning concerning the end of the warfare ; and I, being so privileged, have been seriously pondering where it may be most ! convenient to breathe out my last, and quietly lay down this tabernacle; and seeing, after delibera- tion, I can find no place so fit as with you, I have ventured to come and die with you.” Hog, per- ceiving the gentleman to be in good health, en- deavoured to divert him from these thoughts ; but he firmly persisted in his persuasion ; and accor- dingly, in a few days he was seized with a fever of which he died. Hog was licensed to preach the gospel in the | 26th year of his age, and ere one year elapsed sev- | eral parishes were competing for him ; some of j j which could have yielded him a greater living than he ever had ; but he preferred Killearn to the rest, j I because he understood that sovereign grace was pursuing some elect vessels there ; and he knew j ; THOMAS HOG. 637 ! that several gentlemen, especially the Baron of Foulis, were friends to religion ; and he was or- dained minister in 1654 or 1655, with the unani- mous consent and approbation of all the people in ; the parish. I Hog being thus settled heartily applied himself to his work, taking heed to himself and his doc- ; trine, that he might both save himself and them that heard him ; exhibiting a good example before them in all manner of temperance and Christian ! virtues ; but more especially remarkable in his pub- 1 lie character. His concern and sympathy with the ignorant were great ; the majority of the people of that parish, through the long infirmity of their former pastor, and the intervening vacation, being neglected in their examination, became very ig- norant ; but he was at great pains in distributing Catechisms and other elementary books among them ; and, going from house to house, he prayed with, exhorted, and instructed them in the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. In his deport- ment, he maintained a dignity suitable to his func- tion ; and no wonder, if we consider the astonishing i i success in his ministerial labours, in the conversion , of souls. j So soon as it pleased the Lord thus to bless his parochial labours with a gracious change wrought | : upon a considerable number of the people, he be- i gan to unite the more judicious into societies for j prayer and conference. These he kept under his ; own inspection, and lent them every assistance in i his power ; in consequence of which, they were at- ! tended with great success. i J In church politics Hog sided with the protesters, ; in consequence of which he was in 1661 deposed by i the synod of Ross, because he would not decline , that party judicially ; and afterwards, when he knew he was to be put out of the charge at I I Killearn, in 1662, when he delivered his farewell j sermon, he said with the apostle Paul, — he took j God and their own consciences to witness that he j had not shunned to declare the whole counsel of j God to them ; — and added, — that the storm would be of a long continuance ; but after all, the sky would clear, and he would live to see it, and be 1 called to his own charge again as minister of Kil- learn, and die with them : and further said : — “ If ; any of you shall depart from that good way, and j these truths wherein ye have been taught, and shall ! comply with the wicked designs now carried on ; I take heaven and earth to witness against you ; I take the stones of these walls I preached in ; every word that was spoken ; and every one of you, to be witnesses against another.” With many other words he exhorted them ; and his labours were not altogether in vain ; for there was not a parish in Scotland that complied less with the corruptions than they did. After his ejection, John Card, who was convert- ed by Ills ministry, told him, that he should go to Moray. Of this he had no thoughts at the time ; but soon after the laird of Park offered him Knock- gaudy, near Oldearn, to labour and dwell in. This he accepted, and went thither, where he was a very useful instrument in the hand of the Lord in turn- ing many souls to him ; and here finding his private ministry blessed with success, he adventured to administer the sacrament in this place ; which was a bold attempt, considering the severity of the laws at that time. But this solemnity being re- markably blessed with the divine presence and glory, the communicants returned to their habitations with unspeakable joy. In 1668, he was imprisoned for the truth at Forres, upon a complaint for holding conventicles ; and there he was wonderfully strengthened and com- forted, having great joy in his sufferings. Upon his account many prayers were offered up by many in Moray ; and these, as one saith of the church's prayers for Peter while in this case, “ set God a ; working.” — The effect was, that Hog, without his own knowledge or expectation, was set at liberty, without any concessions on his part. But, what was more remarkable, he was again apprehended about the year 1676, for the same Cause, and sent to Edinburgh. He said to some i in company, I thank my God, this messenger was most welcome to me. And giving a scratch with his nails on the wall, he said, — “ I trust in the living God, that before my conscience shall get that much of a scratch, this neck” — pointing to it — “shall go for it.” Accordingly, when tried, he submitted himself joyfully to prison, rather than bind him- self from preaching ; and was sent to the Bass, where, by the air of the place and his close con- finement, he became sick, whereof he was in great danger. A physician being called, he gave his opinion, that unless he was liberated from that place, there was no hope of life. But Hog, hesitating, would not address that mongrel court, at any rate. However, the doctor, of his own accord, did it without his knowledge, and gave in a petition to the council, in the strongest terms he could devise. The petition being read, some of the lords inter- | ceded for Hog, and said, that he lived more quiet- ly, and travelled not the country so much as the other Presbyterians did. Upon which bishop j Sharp, taking up the argument, said, that the pris- j oner did, and was in a capacity to do, more hurt 1 to their interests, sitting in his elbow-chair, than j twenty others could do by travelling from one cor- j ner of the land to another ; and if the justice of j ! j 638 SCOTS WORTHIES. ll 1 1 God was pursuing him, to take him of the stage, J ! the clemency of the government should not inter- ; pose to hinder it ; and it was his opinion, that if j there was any place in the prison worse than an- J other, he should be put there. Which motion, be- ing seconded by the prelates, was put to the vote, and carried, “ to the closest prison in the Bass which was speedily put in execution. When the keeper intimated this to Hog, he said, it was as se- vere as if Satan himself had penned it. His ser- j vant William Bulloch, being with him when the keeper carried him down to that low nasty dungeon | in the Bass, fell a-weeping, and cried, “ How, mas- ter, your death is unavoidable.” But the good man, directing his eyes up, said: — “How that men have no mercy, the Lord will show himself merciful ; — from the moment of my entering this dungeon, I date my recovery.” And so it fell out ; for, the very next day he recovered surprisingly, and in a short time was as well as ever. Yet, afterwards, when speaking of the archprelate, he never showed any resentment, but merrily said, “ Commend him to me for a good physician !” In the end of 1679, being brought to Edinburgh before the council, and refusing to take the bond to live peaceably, he was ordered back to prison, but afterwards liberated — on what conditions we do not learn. About 1683, falling again under the displeasure i of the managers for holding private conventicles, he was banished by the privy council, and ordain- j to remove off the kingdom in forty-eight hours, un- ! less he gave caution not to exercise any part of his j | ministry, under the penalty of 5000 merks over and 1 ! above performance ; which conditions he would by no means submit to. He therefore retired to Ber- wick, and from thence to London, with a design the first opportunity to go from thence to Carolina ; but the pretended plot, called the Presbyterian plot, then falling out, he was thrown into prison, where he continued some time. His money being near spent, — for besides his own and his servant’s maintenance, he paid ten shillings Sterling weekly to the keeper, for a place by himself, and not to be put down among thieves and felons, — he said to his servant William, I’ll set to-morrow apart for pray- er, and see that no person be allowed to come in to interrupt me. Accordingly he rose early, and con- j tinued close at meditation and prayer till twelve j o’clock, when a person in the habit of a gentleman i desired to speak with him. William Bulloch told i him, that his master was retired, &c. ; yet he still j interceded to sec him. Upon which William, see- ing the man of a grave pleasant aspect, reported his desire to his master, who ordered him to his room. ' Hog received him courteously. The other enter- tained him with a discourse about suffering for a good God, and a good cause, and showed that — “ our light afflictions, which are but for a moment, are not to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed.” After which he arose and embraced Hog, most lovingly, exhorted him to continue in well-doing, and then took out of his pocket a white paper, and gave it to him. Hog, finding its weight, understood it to be money, and said to the stran- er : — “ Upon what account, Sir, do you give me this money?” The stranger answered, “ Because I am appointed by our great and exalted Master to do so.” Hog asked his name ; and, upon his j refusing to tell it, Hog said, “ Sir, it is not curiosi- ty that prompts me to ask, but I hope to be enlar- ged, and then I shall account it my duty to call for you at your dwelling in this city, for I suppose you are a citizen in London.” The other replied : — “ You must ask no more questions, but be faithful to the death, and thou shalt have a crown of life.” Then he retired, and Hog never saw nor heard of him any more. When Hog opened the paper, there was £5 Sterling in it, which to the good man was sweeter than if he had got 100 pounds settled on him yearly.* After he was set at liberty, being in London in 1685, when the Duke of Monmouth landed in England and Argyle in Scotland, he plainly told some of his acquaintances that God would never honour any of these men to be instruments of our deliverance. And much about the same time, some protestants at court knowing he was in the city, and that he was endued with a prophetic spirit, drew king James’ attention so far, that he wanted Hog to be consulted concerning affairs at that juncture. This being communicated to him, he concealed his mind till he consulted the Lord by prayer. In the mean time he made ready for his j departure, and then told them what he charged i them to report to him faithfully, that if king J arnes had seriously adhered to the principles of our holy reformed religion, his throne should have been es- tablished in righteousness ; and if he would yet turn from popery, matters might be well with him ; but if otherwise, the land would spue him out. When this was reported, the king ordered him to be | speedily apprehended, but he, having foreseen this, j eschewed it by a speedy flight to Holland. When in Holland, he was soon introduced to the i prince of Orange, who held him in great esteem, and therefore let him into the secret of his reso- lution to deliver these nations from popery and tyr- anny. In the Indulgence Hog agreed with worthy * This relation was attested by William Bulloch, who was his faithful servant near thirty years, who was eye and ear witness, and was inclined to think he was an angel. ■I I THOMAS HOG. 639 Mr MacWard and Mr Brown, yet was far from clearness to withdraw from all presbyterian* minis- ters, who either had not taken the benefit of the Indulgence, or those exposed to suffering notwith- standing the same. Hog returned to Scotland in 1688, where he staid till 1691, his old parishioners, finding the way cleared, sent commissioners to accompany him back to the parish of Killeam ; where he was re- ceived with great joy in June or July that year. But his constitution being broken, he was unable to discharge his function much in public after that ; however, his conversation became still more heav- enly. King William, as a reward to his merit, re- solving to have this good man near him, sent him a commission to be one of his chaplains, which was no mean evidence of his esteem for him, and the truth of his prediction concerning him. But before ever that honour was bestowed upon him, he was seized with the trouble, or rather the complication of troubles, whereof he died. His sickness was considerably long, and accom- panied with great pain. One time his judicious servant, hearing the heavy moans he made, asked whether it was soul or bodily pain that extorted such heavy groans from him ? To which he com- | posedly replied, — u No soul trouble man! for a hun- dred and a hundred times my Lord hath assured me that I shall be with him for ever ; but I am making moan for my body and thereupon en- tertained him agreeably concerning the Lord’s pur- ging away sin from his own children, Isa. xxvii. 9. At another time, he said : — “ Pity me, O ye my friends, and do not pray for my life ; you see I have a complication of diseases upon me ; allow me to go to my eternal rest and then, with deep con- cern of soul, he cried, — “ Look, O my God, upon mine affliction, and forgive all my sins !” And yet, says his servant, — “ Never was his conversation I more heavenly and spiritual, than when thus chastised.” Towards his end, he was much feast- ed with our Saviour’s comfortable message to his disciples, John xx. 17 : — “ I ascend to my Father, and your Father ; and to my God, and your God.” To the writer of some remarkable passages of his life, he said, — “he could not give a look to the Lord, but he was persuaded of his everlasting love.” And to Mr Stuart, who succeeded h i m in that place, at another time he said, — “Never did the * It must of necessity be observed, that any who are ac- quainted with the historical accounts of these times, will find that Mr Hog was not so explicit upon points of public testimony, as the more faithful part of our sufferers at that time ; otherwise he was, for parts and attainments, a very re- markable and extraordinary man, as this narrative in part discovers. sun in the firmament shine more brightly to the eyes of my body, than Christ the Sun of righteousness hath slimed on my soul,” — and some time after, continues the same writer, “when I under- stood he was very low, I made him my last visit ; and when I asked him how he did, he answered, ‘ The unchangeableness of my God is my rock!’ Upon Sabbath evening — for I staid with him that week, — when I came from the church, his speech was unintelligible to me, but his servant desired me to pray, and to commit his soul and body to God. After prayer I retired a little, and when I return- j ed, I found all present in tears at his dissolution, j j especially his wife and his faithful servant William I Bulloch.” Mr James Hog, and the forementioned writer of these very remarkable passages, add, that j ! Thomas Hog had many times foretold that his Lord i and Husband was coming ; so in the end he cried ! out : — “ Now he is come, my Lord is come ! i Praise, praises to him for evermore ! Amen.” And ! with these words death closed his eyes, upon the j 4th of January, 1692, being about sixty years old. Hog was of a tall stature, but more remarkable ' for his courage and fortitude of mind ; he was most temperate in his diet and sleep. Gluttony, he said, I was a great incentive to lust, and rising betimes is , not only good for the health, but best adapted for | study, wherein he took great pleasure. His more j serious work, his necessary diversions, as visiting of j friends, &c., and even meaner things, were all gone about by the rule of duty. He was sought unto by many for his good and faithful advices, and in pray- er he was most solemn and fervent, the profound- est reverence, the lowest submission, and yet a marvellous boldness and intimacy with God, at- tended his engagements in this exercise. It might be truly said of him as of Luther when he prayed, — it was with so much reverence as if he prayed to God, and with so much boldness as if he had been speaking to his friend. And, though the Lord did not bless him with children, he gave him the pow- erful assurance of that promise, Isa. lvi. 5. — “ I will give thee a name better than of sons and daughters which he signally fulfilled to him in making him the instrument of begetting many sons and daughters to the Lord. ROBERT FLEMING. Robert Fleming was born at Bathens, in 1630. He was son to Mr James Fleming, minister of the gospel there, who, being a very godly and religious man, took great care of his son’s education ; and for that purpose sent him first of all to the university of SCOTS WORTHIES. | 640 Edinburgh, where he finished his course of philoso- phy with great applause, and made great progress in the learned languages. Then being translated to St Andrews, he passed his course of theology in that university under the teaching of worthy Mr Rutherford. Before he was full twenty-three years old, he was called to a pastoral charge, and was settled therein at Cambuslang, in Clydesdale, where he served the Lord in the ministry till after the restoration of Charles II., when that storm arose that drove out i so many, and particularly that act, commonly call- ' ed the Glasgow act, whereby near 400 faithful min- J isters were ejected, of whom the world was not worthy. He had taken to wife Christiana Hamilton, just- ly famed for her personal attractions, gifts, and graces. By her he had seven children, and, with j them and himself, whom he committed to the care ! of God, he humbly received the honour of his ejec- I tion. Of the children the Lord received three I unto himself, before their mother, and two after | her ; the other two survived their father for some j time. As for his worldly substance, his share I seemed according to Agur’s desire; and with j Luther he said, to his knowledge he never desired ! much of it, or was very careful for or about it ; for, during the most tragical days of the persecution his table was covered and cup filled, and his head an- ointed with fresh oil ; his children were liberally ed- ucated, and in his work he was profusely rich ; but | of his own laying up he had no treasure but in heav- en. According to his own testimony, his life was made up of seeming contradictions, great outward | trouble, and great inward comfort ; and I never found, said he, more comfort than when under most affliction. For some time after his ejection, he lived for the most part at Edinburgh, Fife, and other places, until September, 1673. When the ministers in and about Edinburgh were called to appear before the council to hear their sentence, he and some others, 1 not appearing, were ordered to be apprehended, wherever they could be found. This made him shift as well as he could for some time, till he was at last apprehended, and imprisoned in the tolbooth of j Edinburgh, where he was in confinement during the i battle of Bothwell-Bridge. A little after he was, with some others, called before the council, and though they were willing to find bail for their ap- pearance, when called, yet because they refused to live peaceably, and not to rise up in arms against the king, or any authorized by him, they were re- manded to prison. However he was liberated,* * Mr P. Walker in his remarks says, That while he was in prison he dealt earnestly with Messrs King and Kid, then [ and went to Holland, where after the death of the famous and faithful Mr Brown, he was admitted i pastor of the Scots congregation at Rotterdam. And here again his activity in the ministry was such as was to be expected from such an enlarged mind. What kind of writer he was, need not here be told ; but in preaching he might be called a | Boanerges ; and a Barnabas also, for converse and j for all things useful. What might Cambuslang J testify of him ? — What might Edinburgh and places j adjacent, where, after his ejection, he lived and la- boured ? What might Rotterdam say, where, from j 1679 till towards his end, he was a bright and shin- ; i ing light ? There was no time wherein we may j suppose that he had no good design going on. It is well known, that a. little before his death, he had j contemplated the publication of a treatise concern- ; i ing the ways of the Holy Ghost’s working upon the ; souls of men. As he was religious, so he was said to be of a peaceful and friendly disposition, not much given to controversy. When speaking of the differences a- : mongst some brethren, he would say, “ I am amazed I j to see good men thus tear one another in the dark ; nor can I understand how they should have grace i in lively exercise, who value their own particular designs above the interests of the catholic church.” Nor is it to be forgot what he said to one of his own sons in the faith, 1 ‘I bless God, — said he, — that ! in fifteen years I have never given any man’s credit i j a thrust behind his back ; but when I had ground ; to speak well of any man, I did so 'with faithfulness, j and when I wanted a subject that way, I kept si- j lence. ” According to his practice, his life was a life of extraordinary worship. His solemn dedication of , himself to his God was frequent ; his soliloquies I with him almost perpetual ; as spending his days and years after this manner, in order to which we find it was his custom, from the 15th or 16th year i of his age, to set apart the first day of every year for renewing his covenant with God ; or if inter- rupted that day, to take the next day following. For the first years of his life we cannot give any particular account of the manner of his doing this ; but we may guess what they have been, from the | few instances following : — “1691. In the entry of this new year, as I have now done for many years most solemnly, I desire under sentence of death, to give a healing testimony in favour of the Indulged ; and that he was liberated upon the terms of the indemnity, &c. However, he this as it may, to dero- i gate from nothing due to the memory of Mr Fleming, it is well known that though he never actively indulged himself, yet he ran into some extremes in coalescence with them ; which was no small grief at that time to faithful Mr Mac Ward, as witness his “ Earnest Contendings,” &c. ROBERT FLEMING. (341 I again to renew my personal engaging of myself to tlie Lord my God, and for him, and with my whole heart and desire, to enter myself into his service, and take on his blessed yoke, and humbly to lay claim, take and embrace him — O him ! — to be my God, my all, my light, and my salvation, my shield, and exceeding great reward : — ‘ Whom have I in heaven but thee, O Lord, or in the earth whom I desire besides thee ?’ And now, under thy blessed hand, my soul desires, and does here testify my trusting myself, and securing my whole interest, my credit, my conduct, my comfort, my assistance, and my poor children, and to leave myself herein on thy gracious hand, on my dearest Lord, whilst in time — as I write this, the 2d day of January, 1691. “ R. Fleming.” “ 1692. In the entry and first day of this new year, I desire, as formerly, to enter in this hidden record, a new surrender and offering of myself to my dear Lord and Master, who hath been wonder- fully tender and gracious to me, and hath brought me by his immediate conduct through the days and years of my pilgrimage past, hath still cared for his poor servant, and given more singular mercies and evidences of respect than to many else ; and now, as still formerly, hath taken me through this last year with singular evidences of his presence and as- sistance ; and as I trusted myself to my Lord, so he hath graciously answered ; for which, and his special grace hitherto, I desire to insert this witness of my soul’s blessing the Lord my God. “ And now I do here, with my full and joyful consent, testify my giving up myself again to the Lord, and to his work and service here, and wher- ever he shall call me, with desire to consecrate my old age to my God and the guide of my youth. I love my Master and his services, and let my ears be nailed to the posts of his door, as one who would not go free from that blessed yoke and service ; and lay in hope the whole assistance hereof on his grace and help. To him I commit myself, my ways, my works and services, which, with my whole desire I offer to my Lord, in whose hand I desire to secure my credit for the gospel’s sake, my comfort and en- largement in this day of deep trouble and anguish, together with my poor children, and the whole in- terest ,of my family and concerns, desiring to put myself with humble confidence, and all that is dear to me, under his care and conduct. O my soul, bless thou the Lord ! This I write the 1st of January, 1692. ‘ My Lord and my God.’ “R. Fleming.” “ 1694. In the first day and Monday of this new year, 1694, that as I have formerly, through most of my life past, so now I desire to renew my de- dication and engagement to the Lord my God, and to join in the same witness with what herein hath been formerly, with my whole heart and desire, and to offer to my dearest Lord praise, in remembrance of what he hath been through the year past, and in the whole of my life, whose gracious tender con- duct hath been so wonderful : — and well hast thou, Lord, dealt with thy servant, according to thy word — in all that hath befallen me. “ And now I do again, by a surrender, witness my entire commitment of myself, my poor children, my credit for the gospel, my conduct and comfort in so extraordinary a juncture, to my dearest Lord, to his gracious and compassionate care and pro- vidence ; together with my works, and any small design to serve him and my generation ; and I do entreat new supplies of his grace and strength, to secure and make his poor servant, if it were his blessed will, yet more abundantly forthcoming to him. And with hopes of acceptance, I write this, 1st January, 1694. Post tenebras spero lucem. “ R. Fleming.” But now drawing near his end, in the same year 1694, upon the 17th of July he took ill, and on the 25th died. On his first arrest, u O friends” — said he to such as were about him — “sickness and death are serious things !” But till the spark of his fever was risen to a flame, he was not aware that his sickness was to be unto death ; for he told a relation, that if it should be so, it was strange, seeing the Lord did not hide from him the things that he did with him and his. Yet before his expiration, he was appre- hensive of its approach. Calling to him a friend, he asked what freedom he found in prayer for him — u Seems God to beckon to your petitions, or does he bring up, and leave dark impressions on your mind ? This way, ’ ’ said he, “ I have often known the mind of the Lord.” His friend telling him he j was under darkness in the case, he replied, “I know your mind, trouble not yourself for me, I think I may say, I have been long above the fear of death!” All the while his groans and struggling argued him to be under no small pain ; but his answers to inquiring friends certified that the distress did not enter his soul. Always he would say, “I am well,” or, “I was never better,” or, “I feel no sickness.” This he would say, while he seemed to be sensible of everything except pain. But the malignant distemper wasting his natural spirits, he could speak j but little, though what he spoke was all of it like himself. Having felt himself indisposed for his I wonted meditation and prayer, he thus said to some j near him, “I have not been able in a manner to form 4 M SCOTS WORTHIES. 642 one serious thought since I was sick, or to apply myself unto God ; he has applied himself unto me, and one of his manifestations ^as such as I could I have borne no more. Opening his eyes after a long sleep, one of his sons asked him how he did, he answered, never better. “Do you know me,” said his son? Unto which with a sweet smile, he answered, “ Yes, yes, dear son, I know you !” This was about two hours before he died. About an hour after- wards he cried earnestly, — “ Help, help, for the Lord’s sake !” and then breathed weaker and weak- er till he gave up the ghost ; and after he had seen the salvation of God, he departed in peace, in the sixty -fourth year of his age. Thus lived and died Fleming, after he had served his day and generation. His works yet declare what sort of man he was ; for besides the fore- mentioned treatise, the Confirming Work of Re- ligion, his Epistolary Discourse, and his well-known book, The Fulfilling of the Scriptures, he composed also another work, entitled — A short Index of some of the Great Appearances of the Lord in the Dis- pensations of his Providence to his Poor Servant. ALEXANDER SHIELDS. Alexander Shields, son to James Shields of Haugh-head in theMerse, was born in 1660, or 1661. Being sent to school at an early age, such was his proficiency, that in a short time he entered upon the study of philosophy, under Sir William Pater- son, then regent of the college of Edinburgh, afterwards clerk to the bloody council, where his progress was no less distinguished, receiving soon the degree of Master of Arts, and that with con- siderable applause. After this he began to turn his attention to the study of divinity with a view to the ministry. But finding little encouragement for any who could not in conscience join with prelacy, or the prevailing defections of those called the In- dulged ; he took a resolution, and went among others to Holland — shortly before or after Both- well — for the further improvement of his studies ; where he continued for a short time, and then re- turned to his native country. Upon his going to London to be an amanuensis to Dr Owen, or some of the English divines, he had a letter of recommendation to a Mr Blackie, a | Scots minister, who, appointing him to speak with him at a certain season, had several ministers con- vened unknown to him, to be present also, who all of them pressed and enjoined him to take license. So that being led into it, in that sudden and sur- prising way, he accepted of it from the Scots dis- senting ministers at London, but without any im- position or sinful restriction. However the oath of allegiance becoming in a short time the trial of that place, Shields studied, as he had occasion, to show the sinfulness thereof, which these ministers took so ill, that they threatened to depose him. This, how- ever, by no means intimidated him. But it was not long that he could have liberty to exercise his office here. For, upon the 11th January, 1685, he was, with some others, appre- hended by the city-marischal, — at a private meet- ing in Gutter-lane, — who came upon them una- wares, and commanded them to surrender in the king’s name. Shields being first in his way, replied, “ What king do you mean? By whose authority do you disturb the peaceable ordinances of Jesus Christ? | Sir, you dishonour your king in making him an enemy to the worship of God.” At which the marischal said, he had other business to do than stand prating with him. Shields made an attempt j to escape, but was not able ; and he and his com- panions were brought before the lord mayor, who threatened to send him to Bridewell. However, bail was offered and admitted for him, to answer at Guildhall upon the 14th ; upon which day he attended, with a firm resolution to answer. But while he went out for refreshment, he was called for, and none answering, his bail-bond was forfeited, which afterwards gave him no small uneasiness when the wife of the person who had become his surety said to him, Alas ! why have you ruined our family ? However, to prevent further damage, he appeared on the 20th, when he was arraigned in common form, and examined, whether he was at Bothwell, and if he approved of bishop Sharp’s death, putting also several other questions. To which he replied, that he was not obliged to give an ac- count of his thoughts, and that he came there to answer to his indictment, and not to such questions as these. Upon this he was taken to Newgate by a single officer, without any mittimus, or any express order to what prison he should be com- mitted. By the way — says he* — he could have escaped, had he not been led or betrayed there by flattery. It was some days before his mittimus came, by which he was ordered to be kept in cus- tody till the next quarter-session, which was to be at Guildhall on the 23d of February following. But Charles II. dying in this interval, he was, with other seven who were apprehended with him, March 5, put on board the Kitchen yacht for Scotland, and landed at Leith on the 13th, and the next day Shields was examined before the council, where he pleaded the liberty of his thoughts, asking * In his own Impartial Relation, p. 1 1. ALEXANDER SHIELDS. 643 i them to prove his accusation, and waiving a direct answer anent owning the king’s authority ; which o-ave way to his subsequent fall as he, in his own impartial account of his sufferings, observes among other reflections ; u In this I cannot but adore the wisdom of the Lord’s conduct, but with blush- ing at the folly of mine. I was indeed determined, I think, by a sovereign hand, and led upon this not usually trodden path by truth’s confessors beyond my ordinary genius or inclination, to fence with these long weapons, declining direct answers, which is the most difficult road, and most liable to snares ; and wherein it is more hard to avoid wronging truth than in the plain and open-hearted way.” However, he was ordered back to prison till the 23d, when he was brought before the justiciary, and interrogated whether he would abjure the Apo- logetical Declaration, and own the authority of James VII. But being still reserved, he was sent back till the 25th, and from thence continued till the day following, which he calls the day of his fatal fall, the just desert of his former blind and bold approaches to the brink of these precipices over which he had looked, and was now left to fall therein. Here he was examined to the effect afore- said, and withal threatened with the most severe usage if he did not satisfy them. Upon which he gave in a minute in writing, wherein after a short preamble, he says, “ The result of my thoughts is in the sincerity of an unfeigned conscience, and in the fear of God I do renounce and disown that and all other declarations, in so far as they declare war against the king expressly, purposely or de- signedly, and assert that it is lawful to kill all em- ployed by his majesty, or any, because so employed in church, state, army, or country.” When they read this, they said it was satisfactory, and requir- ed him to hold up his hand. This he still refused, till allowed to dictate to the clerk what words he should swear ; which being done, he protested against the construing of it to any other sense than the genuine words contained in the minute. That which induced him to this, he says, was, “ They gave it in his own meaning ; and so far was his mind deceived, that by a quibble and nice distinc- tion he thought the word might bear, that this was not a disowning of that nor any declaration he ever saw, — save one of their pretending, — nor that neither, but u in so far, or if so be which dif- ferent expressions he was taught to confound by scholastic notions infused into him by the court, and some of the Indulged ministers while in pri- son.” Having so done, the justiciary dismissed him, but, on pretence he was the council’s pris- oner, he was sent back to his prison now more disa- greeable than ever. For he had no sooner made tins foolish and unfaithful step of compliance, — as he himself expresses it, — than his conscience smote him, and continuing to do so, he considered his fall so great that no words could express it. Yet after all this his dangers were not over ; for having written a letter to John Balfour, to be by him transmitted to some friends in Holland, declar- ing his grief and sorrow, and his mind respecting his former compliances, it fell into the enemies’ hands; upon which he was again brought before the lords of council ; and though much threaten- ing ensued, yet he owned the letter, and declared his sorrow for What he had formerly done. After which they appointed him to confer with the arch- bishop of St Andrews, and the bishops of Glasgow and Dunkeld. With them he had a long confer- ence, and, among other things, they asserted that all powers were ordained of God, be they what they may. He answered, “ All power is ordained of God, by his provident will, but every power as- sumed by man is not so by his appropriate and preceptive will.” One of the prelates said, that even his provident will is not to be resisted. He answered, that the holy product of it cannot, and may not, but the instrument he made use of some- times might be resisted. It was urged that Nerc was then reigning when this command of non-re- sistance was given. He answered, that the com- mand was given in general for our instruction how to perform our duty under lawful magistrates, ab- stracting from Nero. Then they asked him, how ! he would reconcile his principles with that article in the Confession of Faith, That difference in religi- on, &c. He answered, “ Very easily ; for, though difference in religion did not make void his power, yet it might stop his admission to that power where that religion he differed from was established by law.” He was confined till August 6, when he was again indicted and brought before the justiciary, which made him write two letters, one to the ad- vocate, and the other to his old regent, Sir William Paterson, which he thought somewhat mitigated their fury. Upon which he drew up a declaration ' of his sentiments, and gave it in to the lords of council, when much reasoning between him and them ensued. After two conferences, wherein he was asked many questions, in the third he agreed to sign the oath of abjuration, which they had so much insisted he should again take, as he had at their 'command torn his name from the first ; only with this difference in the wording, “if so be such things are there inserted which he told them, he was sure was not the case : this with difficulty was granted. As he subscribed, he protested before them, — “ That none were to think by this he justi- I i 644 SCOTS WORTHIES. [ A Conventicle, or Field-preaching.] a hill in the parish of Galston, and many other places ; and about the end of the same year, 1688, when Kersland and the united societies, who had, in the interregnum of the government, thrust out some of the curates, and demolished some of the popish monuments of idolatry, were obliged to publish a vindication of themselves in these pro- j eeedings ; which they did at the cross of Douglas, ! Shields, being present, sang some verses in the | beginning of the 76th psalm, — “In Judah’s land God is well known and while expatiating on the same, said : — “ that this psalm was sweetly sung by famous Mr Robert Bruce, at the cross of Edinburgh, on the dispersion of the Spanish Armada, a hundred years ago.” Upon the 3d of March, 1689, when he, Mr Lin- ning, and Mr Boyd, renewed the covenants at Bor- land hill in Lesmahagow, Shields stood up again 1 1 j lied the act of succession, or the abrogation of the 1 ancient laws about it, or the want of security for religion or liberty, or that he acknowledged the di- vine approbation of it.” When all was over he was detained till next day ; after which he was sent to the Bass, and no doubt would have suffered, had he not got out in women’s clothes and escaped. After his escape, without seeking after any other party whatsoever, he went straight to Mr Renwick, and that faithful contending remnant then in the | fields; where, upon the 5th of December, 1686, he J attended a meeting for preaching at the wood of ; Earlston in Galloway, after which he continued | with Mr Renwick for some time. During this j he ceased not, both in public and private, to give full proof and evidence of his hearty grief and sor- row for his former apostasy and compliances. Upon the 22d he came to their general meeting, where he gave them full satisfaction in espousing all and every part of their testimony, and likewise made a public confession of his own guilt ; wherein he acknowledged : — “ 1. That he had involved him- self in the guilt of owning the so-called authority ; of James VH., showing the sinfulness thereof, I taking shame to himself. 2. He acknowledged his guilt in taking the oath of abjuration, and his ! | relapsing into the same iniquity, the* sinfulness of j ! which he held forth at great length, and spoke so j I largely to these particulars, as, discovering the hei- i nousness of that sin, made Mr Renwick say; — | “I think none could have done it, unless they had | known the terrors of the Lord ;” and added, — “ I j thought it both singular and promising to see a i clergyman come forth with such a confession of his own defections, when so few of that set are seen in i our age to be honoured with the like.” After this, when Mr Renwick and the united I societies were obliged to publish their informatory j vindication, Shields went over to Holland to | have the same printed about the beginning of the year 1687 ; but it appears he was forced to return i home before that work was finished. After Mr Ren wick’s death, he continued for some time in the fields, preaching in Crawford moors, at JOHN DICKSON. 645 I before a vast concourse of people, and declared liis I unfeigned sorrow for his former sin of compliances, &c., to the affecting of all the multitude, and the | abundant sa^faction of the godly there present, who had been grieved therewith. At and after the Revolution, he was of much ser- vice to the army, and greatly esteemed by king William ; and after his return home, he, with the foresaid Messrs Linning and Boyd, presented a large paper of proposals to the first General Assem- bly after the Revolution, both craving a redress of their grievances, and likewise showing on what terms they and their people could and would join with them. But this paper being judged by the committee of this Assembly to contain “per- emptory and gross mistakes, unseasonable and im- practicable proposals, and uncharitable and inju- rious reflections, tending rather to kindle contention I than compose divisions,” it never once got a hear- ing, but was thrown over the bar of that Assem- bly. And yet, notwithstanding all this, the three foresaid brethren being resolved to unite with them at any rate, gave in another, called the shorter paper, importing their submission, casting down all their former proposals and desires upon the As- i sembly’s table, — “ to be disposed of as their wis- S dom should think fit.” j Soon after the Revolution, he was settled minis- j ter at St Andrews, where he continued in the dis- charge of his office until 1699, that he, with Messrs Borland, Stobo, and Dalgliesh, were pitched upon to go over with his countrymen to the na- tional settlement at Darien in America. Here, by letters under his own hand, he gave a parti- cular account of matters ; in which it is evident | that his spirit was quite sunk with the divisions, I impiety, and unrighteousness, of too many of that j handful, and was at last sadly crushed with the fa- | tal disappointment of the undertaking itself, by the j conduct of the existing government. He showed also, that had it been faithfully and well managed, it might have turned out greatly advantageous to this nation, as well as to the Christian religion. While in Caledonia he preached for the most ! : part from Acts xvii. 26, 27. “ God hath determin- j ed the times before appointed, and the bounds of I our habitation,” &c. One time as he and the rest of their return, they were bewildered in the woods. Hearing the noise of the sea, they got at last to the shore, and being obliged to pass through va- rious windings along the coast, under lash of the swelling surges, they were sometimes obliged to climb upon their hands and feet over the steep and high rocks, until at last Shields was like to faint. Their provisions and cordials being spent, | they came at length to a welcome spring of fresh j water, gushing out of the rock by the sea-side : — “This well,” says Mr Borland, “was to us as the well was to Hagar in the wilderness. By it we rested a little ; and Mr Shields having drunk, was refreshed and strengthened, and by the help of the Lord, we were enabled to proceed on our journey.” Af- ter this Shields and Mr Borland escaped death very narrowly, the ship sinking in the harbour of Kingston, a very little after they had gone out of it. He died of a malignant fever, June 14, 1700, in a Scotswoman’s house at Port Royal, in Jamaica, a little after he left Caledonia. A kind country woman, Isabel Murray, paid the expense of his fu- neral. His last sermon was from the last words of Hosea, — “ Who is wise, and he shall understand these things ? prudent, and he shall know them ? for the ways of the Lord are right, and the just shall walk in them: but the trangressors shall fall therein.”* And thus the truly famous Alexander Shields, after he had tasted somewhat of the various vicis- situdes of life and fortune, was obliged to die in a strange land. He was a man of low stature, ruddy I complexion, quick and piercing wit, full of zeal to whatever party he sided with, of a public spirit, and firm in the cause he espoused ; pretty well skill- ed in most branches of learning ; in arguing very ready, only somewhat fiery ; while in writing on con- troversy, he exceeded most men of that age. His works are, the Hind let Loose ; Mr Renwick’s Life ; the Vindication of his Dying Testimony ; his own Impartial Relation; and the Renovation of the Covenant at Borland hill. Some Lectures and Sermons of his have also been published ; a Vindication of our Solemn Covenants ; and several of his Religious Letters, both before and since the Revolution. After his death, Mr Linning pub- ished an Essay of his on Church-Communion. But how far this agrees with his conduct at the Revo- lution, or what relation it had to his other writings, or if Mr Linning had any hand therein, is not our province to determine at present. JOHN DICKSON. John Dickson, born of creditable parents, sup- j posed to have been related to Mr David Dickson, was sent to a grammar-school, and from thence to the university ; where, after he had finished his course of learning, he studied divinity, and then passed his trials for the ministry ; and, being found * See a more full account of Shields, both -while in Cale- donia and Jamaica, in the History of Darien, p. 42 — 49, SCOTS WORTHIES. 646 duly qualified for that office, he was licensed, and soon after ordained minister of Rutherglen, where he continued for some time a most faithful, dili- gent, and painstaking preacher of the gospel. Very soon, however, after the restoration of Charles II., prelacy beginning to advance in Scot- land, he was, upon the 13th of October, 1660, brought before the committee of estates, and by them imprisoned in the tolbooth of Edinburgh — in- formation having been given in against him by Sir J ames Hamilton of Elistoun,* and some of his par- ishioners, for some expressions he had used in a sermon, alleged to reflect upon the government and committee of estates. For this he was kept in prison till the parliament met, and his church declared vacant; but though he got off at this time, yet he was exposed to much troublel and suffering after- wards. Dickson was obliged to wander from place to place, with the rest of those who could not in con- science comply with the current of defection and apostasy at that time ; preaching to such as em- ployed him; in which he ceased not to show the sinfulness of bonding, cess-paying, and of the Indulgence. He likewise wrote a faithful warning to the shire of Fife against them, showing, in the most affecting and striking manner, the hazard and evil of such a compliance.f In 1670, he preached at Glenvail, and in June, that year, he and Mr Blackadder addressed a numerous congregation at Beeth-hill, in the parish of Dunfermline. While they were at public worship upon the Lord’s day, a lieutenant of militia in that place came up on horseback to the people, and made a great deal of disturbance, attempting to frighten, and, if possible, to scatter them ; upon which one, more courageous than the rest, stepped forward to him, and, after entreating him to remove peaceably, took his horse by the bridle, drew out a pistol, and told him he would shoot him dead if he was not silent ; and, whether he would or not, he was compelled to sit on horse- back till public worship was over ; after which he had liberty to go where he pleased. Upon the * This family that pursued him is long ago extinct, and their house — as Mr Dickson verypubliclyforetold in the hearing of many — after it had been a habitation for owls, the foun- dation-stones were digged up. The inhabitants there could not but observe, that those who were informers, accusers, and witnesses against Mr Dickson, — some of them magis- trates then in the town, — were brought so low, that they were sustained by the charity of the parish. So hard a thing it is to meddle with the servants of Jesus Christ. + It was no doubt such faithful freedom that made that defamatory scribbler say in his Presbyterian Eloquence, that j Dickson said in a sermon at Galashiels, that cess-paying to Charles II. was as bad as sacrificing to devils. back of this horrid insult, — as the persecutors were pleased to call it, — upon the 11th of August, a de- cree was obtained by the king’s advocate against Dickson, Mr Blackadder, and severaj^other minis- ters, in which they were charged with holding con- venticles in houses and in fields ; and being, after citation, called, and not compearing, they were, in absence, denounced and put to the horn, which obliged them to wander up and down the country, sometimes preaching in the fields where they had opportunity. Thus Dickson continued in the midst of imminent hazards ; for, by virtue of a new-modelled council, June 4, 1674, there were orders to send out parties in quest of all conventicle preachers, who accepted not of the Indulgence, amongst whom were Messrs Dickson, Welch, Blackadder and others. For Mr Welch 400 pounds Sterling were offered, and 1000 merks for Dickson, and each of the rest ; nay, the soldiers were indemnified, and also their assistants, if any slaughter was committed in apprehending in cases of resistance. This exposed Dickson to new dangers, although for a time he escaped their fury. After the battle at Bothwell Bridge — the perse- cution becoming still hotter, and the searches more frequent — he was apprehended in the year 1680, and brought to Edinburgh prisoner by some of the guards, under bail to answer before the council, September 1. Accordingly the council ordered him to be sent to the Bass, where he continued nearly seven years. While prisoner there, he wrote a most excellent letter to some friends, in which he not only bewails and laments the apostasy of these lands from God, and asks what our noble Scots Worthies would think or say, were they then alive to behold the same ; but also gives many practical and suitable directions how to behave in following Christ and owning his cause under the Cross, and walking in the furnace of affliction and tribulation. After he was dismissed from prison, he returned to his flock, at Rutherglen, very soon after the Re- volution, where he again exercised his ministe- rial function, and that upon all hazards.* In 1698, October 4, at the meeting of the synod at Ayr, he preached a very free and faithful sermon, upon the * Mr Dickson being one who maintained and defended the lawfulness of defensive arms, either about this time or at the Restoration, before he was ejected, kept the sacrament of the Lord’s supper, probably at Rutherglen, while the people kept guard by sentries under arms the whole time of the dis- pensation thereof; which truly sets forth the danger and hazard of these times, and the aggravations of our sins in ipis- improving these mercies and privileges which they could not peaceably enjoy. JOHN DICKSON. duty and qualification of a faithful watchman, frcm these words, Isa. lxii. 6. — “I have set watchmen upon thy walls, O Jerusalem,” &c. Altkougl^Dickson still acceded to the Revo- lution- churcn^ yet he was much grieved when he beheld how far inferior the glory of the second temple was to the first, which does most evidently appear from his own words, in a letter to one a little before his death. Thus, in 1700, died worthy John Dickson in a good old age, after he had by his longevity seen somewhat of the glory both of the first and second temple, and emerged out of all his troubles, having got a more perspicuous view of our national apostasy, our breach of Covenant, and other defec- tions, past, present, and to come, with the Lord’s goodness and mercy towards his own remnant ; and all this from the top of mount Pisgah, when he was just about to enter upon the confines of Im- manuel’s land of glory. Of his works, we have only seen his synod ser- mon, and the foresaid letters. If there be any other, it is more than is known at present, except the foresaid warning to the Indulged in the shire of Fife, which was some time ago also published ; all which show him to be a most pathetic writer, and makes as striking, and lively an impression upon the mind, as those of any man of his time. Testimony of John Dickson. “ The conception you have of the dispensation of the Lord towards this poor plagued church, and the temper of the spirits of professors under this dispensation, are not different from what many of the Lord’s people are groaning under. There is, palpably, a sensible difference betwixt what the church now is, and what it was many years ago ; yea, what it hath been within these few years. The church hath lost much ground, and is still up- on the losing hand ; and it seems will continue so, until it pleases the Lord to pour down his spirit from on high, or else, by some sharp awakening dispensation, rouse up drowsy souls out of the leth- argy wherein they are fallen. It is many years since the sun fell low upon Scotland ; many a dis- mal day hath it seen since 1649. At that time our Reformation mounted towards it highest horizon ; and since we left our building on that excellent foundation laid by our honoured forefathers, we have still moved from ill to worse, and are like to do so still more, — unless our gracious God prevent it, — until we slide ourselves out of sight and sense of a Reformation. W e have been lately trysted with a wonderful deliverance from the slavery of a heaven- daring enemy ; but not one line of reformation is 647 pencilled upon, our deliverance.'* We have the shell of ordinances and church government, but want the kernel, the great things of Christ’s law ; as to contend for his interests is -wrapped un- der a cloud. It is a long time since our Covenant and solemn engagements looked pale. They have lost colour and verdure since the rescinding our vows to God. These covenants are turned skele- tons, fearsome and affrighting ; and former respect to them is like gradually to dwine away under a consumption. There are some few things that made them the glory of nations, that are turned to a shadow. “1. They were the fruit of many prayers, fast- ings, tears, wrestlings, and indefatigable labours, of the greatest and best men that ever breathed in our nation, recovering a people sunk into Antichristian darkness, to enjoy liberty due to them by Christ’s purchase. “ 2. The renewing them so many times in king James’ reign, spoke out the fervency of these worthy spirits in ardour and affection to them, as so many jewels of so great value, that they were set as gems and pearls in Christ’s crown, to wear so long as his interest remained in the church. “3. The blessings accompanying the entering into, and renewing these Covenants, were so fluent in all church ordinances both secret, private, and public, that whatever was planted in so fruitful a soil, of such blessing and influence of the Spirit, could not but L grow up as calves in the stall, fat and full of sap.’ “ 4. These Covenants were to our forefathers, like the renting of their own clothes, as Elisha did, and taking up Elijah’s mantle, and clothing themselves with it, 2 Kings ii. 12, 13; enjoying of Moses’ spirit, Deut. xxiv, and, like Joshua xxiv, when dying, leaving a testimony of remembrance to posterity, by engaging them in these Covenants. “5. So long as our church cleaved to these our Covenants, it fell out with them as it did with king Asa, 2 Chron. xv. 2, that the Lord was with them while they were with him. But our fathers’ off- spring forsaking God, God forsook them : from that * If these were Mr Dickson’s sentiments then of the Re- volution-settlement, so much now gloried in and boasted of by many, they must he either ignorantly blind, or under an infatuation, who see not that things are a great deal worse (though the same as to the constitution) than in his day. For how many are the clogs and impositions that are annu- ally (I may say daily) wreathed about the neck of the church, in these degenerate isles of the sea, Britain and Ireland. And could anything be believed by an apostate generation, we should think that his words should he of some weight, who was no opponent, but a member of the Established Church, yea and more, a seer in our Israel, and, we may say, one among a thousand, “for as the man is, so is his strength.” SCOTS WORTHIES. 648 day that our Covenants were so ignominiously treat- ed, unto this day, all calamities, as to our religious concerns, have fallen upon us. “6. The late sufferings of all who shed their heart’s blood upon the fields, and scaffolds, impris- onments, and banishments, were all dyed with the crimson blood of the Covenant ; from that day of the force and fury of enemies, these solemn vows of our worthy forefathers, and the enemy taking ! up Christ’s march-stones, which were the bounds set by the Most High, when he divided to the church of Britain its inheritance, and separated the sons of Adam, Deut. xxix. 8, — the giddy church straying in the wilderness is much fallen out of sight either of pillar or cloud of fire. Our intermixtures are turned pernicious to the glory and honour of Christ’s house, which should not be a den of buyers and sellers. Although the sufferings of our late brethren seemed to be heavy to bear, yet two prime truths were sealed with their blood, — and that of the best, as of our honourable nobles, faith- ful ministers, gentry, burghers, and commons of all sorts, — which were never before sealed, either by the blood of our primitive martyrs, or our late mar- tyrs in the dawning of our Reformation ; and the truths were, — “ Christ’s Headship in the Church in despite of supremacy and bold Erastianism ; and our Covenants which two truths were in the mouths of all our Worthies, when mounting their bloody theatres and scaffolds ; ascending as it were up unto God, in a perfumed cloud of transporting joy, that they were honoured to suffer upon such clear grounds : that supremacy was so aghasted by our Covenants, that no rest could it have till it got the gravestone laid upon them, and so conjured all who tasted the liquor of that supremacy, that the thoughts of getting the buried Covenants out of the grave were more terrible to them than the devils, who are now in the place of our vows to God, managing their diabolical games in these places where the Covenants were most in honour and request, the one burned and the other rising in its room. Much blood and treasure have been spent to set the flourishing crown upon Christ’s head in Scotland — Declarations, acts of councils and parliament, remonstrances, engagements, vows, and Covenants — but the sealing blood of the late martyrs was the cope-stone of all. The primitive martyrs sealed the prophetic office of Christ with their heart’s blood ; the reforming martyrs sealed his priestly office with their blood ; but last of all our martyrs have sealed his kingly office with their best blood: they indeed have cemented it upon his royal head ; so that to the end of the world it shall not drop off again. Let us never dream of a reviving spirit among us, till there be a reviving re- spect to these solemn vows of God. If there were I but a little appearance of that spirit which actuated ] our worthy forefathers in our public assemblies and preachings, ye would see a woijj^rful altera- tion in the face of affairs : the fields, I assure you, would look white near to harvest. If you would trace our defections, from the breach of the act of classes in 1650, all along to this day of our being bound in the grave of our neutrality, and all to edge up the spirit of the people to a due sense of our woful and irrevocable-like backsliding from God, — who had acted many wonders for Scotland, — you would find a perfumed smoke of incense spring- ing from our altar in savoury and soul-refreshing blessings. But, ah! when shall this day dawn so long as the common enemies are gaining their long-wished-for hopes, that ministers in their pub- lic preaching must confine themselves to their nick- named faith and repentance, without noticing any encroachments upon Christ’s proper rights to his Church in the glorious work of Reformation, lest constructed fire-brands and seditions, which, in running the full career, may gradually drop into superstition through neutrality, and thence plunge into an abyss of the shadow of popery ? But, to sum up shortly all my present thoughts of the time in this one, I cannot see an evasion for the Church, in its present circumstance, from a sharp and more trying furnace than ever it has yet met with — come the trial from what quarter it will, it fears me. Our principles are so slippery, and the truths of God so superficially rooted in us, that when we are thrown into the furnace, many of us shall melt to dross. It is many years since I heard one of the greatest seers in our nation, in horror, and with fear, dread- ing the heavy judgments of God upon the biassed professors in the west of Scotland. But all that I say, not diminishing my hopes of the Lord’s reserv- ! ing his purchased inheritance in his own covenanted j land, though Malachi be affrighted at the day of j his coming, and be made to cry out, “ Who may j abide it, when he sits as a refiner and purifier of the sons of Levi !” A remnant shall be left, that shall be as the teil tree or the oak, whose seed is in them when they cast their leaves ; so the holy seed shall be the substance thereof. u To revive a reflection upon two stupendous passages of Providence, I know would have an im- bittering relish to many professors in our country- side. The one is upon the last Indulgence wherein professors, by bond and penalty, obliged themselves to produce their ministers before their council, when called. For tins was a restriction so narrow, that all the freedom and faithfulness of ministers in their office was so blocked up, that either conscience towards God in discharging of necessary duties, be- SIR ROBERT HAMILTON. 649 ! hoved utterly to be buried, or else the life of their minister exposed to sacrifice, and if this be not a universal evil to be mourned over, let conscience and reason judge ; yet this is looked upon to be but a snare, in these gloomy times, of inconsiderable moment, though it was laid by that supremacy, which not only hath wounded our solemn vows to death, but bound the freedom and faithfulness of the church-seers, as to the public interest of Christ, in their graves. “ The other stupendous providence is the ob- literating the rich blessings of the gospel in our late suffering times, when blessings not only accom- panied those solemn field-meetings, but extraor- dinary influences in gifts of freedom and faithful- ness were poured down upon those ministers, who went out with their lives in their hands, setting then.’ faces as flint against the heaven-daring vio- lence done to the Mediator. I call to mind a passage with perpetuated remembrance, that in one shire of this kingdom there were about thirty ministers who cheerfully ofiered up their services to Christ, all by turns, out of Edinburgh. All of these, when they returned to the city, being questioned what pleasure, what delight, and what liberty they had in managing that hazardous task, answered: — 1 That so soon as they set foot on these bounds, another spirit came upon them ; and no other reason could they give for it, but that God wrought so mightily, that they looked upon it as a genius loci , that God sensibly at that time was in that county working wonders ; but the most part of all these are in their places, resting on their beds and their works follow them.’ “ Thus, in answer to yours, I have given you some of my confused thoughts of the present times, wishing you God’s blessing in sucking honey out of the eater. u John Dickson.” SIR ROBERT HAMILTON OF PRESTON. This gentleman, son of Sir Walter Hamilton the Reformer, was born about 1650, and lineally de- scended from the famous Sir John Hamilton of Preston, who was commissioner for East Lothian at the black parliament held at Edinburgh, 1621, where he boldly voted against the ratification of the five articles of Perth. Having received a liberal education — as is usual for men in such circumstances — before Sir Robert was twenty-six years of age, or thereby, the Lord, in his free and sovereign mercy, and by the efficacious working of the Holy Spirit, inclined his heart to fall in love with his service ; in conse- quence of which he began to attend the free and faithful — though persecuted — gospel, at that time preached in the fields ; by which in a short time he came to espouse the true covenanted testimony of the church of Christ in Scotland, for which he was, through divine providence, enabled to be a true and faithful witness to the end of his life. The first of his public appearances, we find, made in defence of that noble cause in which he had embarked, was in 1679, when, after consulting with faithful Mr Cargill, he, with Mr Thomas Douglas and godly Rathillet, drew up that Declar- ation — afterwards called the Rutherglen Declara- tion — which they published upon May 27, at the market- cross of that burgh, after they had extin- guished the bonfires ; that day being kept as a holy anniversary- day for the restoration of Charles n. After this he returned with that little handful to Evandale, where he was by them appointed to command in chief, June 1, at the skirmish of Drumclog, where he showed much bravery in putting Claverhouse and his bloody crew to flight, killing about forty of them, Claverhouse himself narrowly escaping. But the Erastian party, com- ing up to that little army shortly after, created no small disturbance among them and Hamilton their general, the former being to them, “ a snare up- on Mizpah, and a net spread upon Tabor.” Al- though he most strenuously opposed them in all their sinful courses of defection and compliance, yet he was by them treacherously betrayed, in giving his consent to their publishing the Hamilton Declar- ation ; for they promising to be faithful, in all time coming, in preaching against the Indulgence and all the land’s defections ; and that what was ambig- uous in that Declaration, should be, at the honest party’s desire, explained ; what was wrong should be left out, and what was wanting should be sup- plied, before it was printed or otherwise published, save the reading of it that day; — one word of which they never fulfilled or kept. It would be a task, however, too tedious, here to enumerate all the struggles and contending^ among them at that time. Suffice it to remark, that it was through Hamilton’s great — we may say deserved — confidence in Mr Cargill’s faithfulness, who was the principal minister among those called the pro- testing party, that he was again by the corrupt party so pitifully insnared in subscribing their De- claration to the duke of Monmouth, when they were about to engage with the enemy. For, being intent upon supplicating, the honest party consent- ed only that an information should be drawn up by Messrs Cargill and Morton, and sent to the duke, of his own and his father’s rebellion against God, 1 |V O 7 SCOTS WORTHIES. I 6 JO j ' by their blasphemy, persecution, and usurpation, in church and state, &c. ; but the corrupt party draw- ing up their own supplication, sent one of their num- ber with it in the one hand, and pen and ink in the other, for Hamilton tosubcribe,justas they were go- ing to engage the enemy. Hamilton asked if it was Mr Cargill’s work? he answered, Yes; although Mr Cargill knew nothing of it. Upon which being in haste, and having no doubt of Mr Car- gill’s veracity therein, he did that which was still matter of great grief to him afterwards, as he him- self in a letter from Holland, dated 1685, doth fully testify. After their defeat at Bothwell-bridge, Hamilton was, by the Erastian party and their accomplices, most horridly stigmatized and reproached, as that he should have betrayed them to the enemy, sold them for money, and swept the priming off the cannon at the bridge. But from all these he has been suf- ficiently vindicated by Wilson, in his Impartial Re- lation of Bothwell-bridge. Shortly after Bothwell, he went to Holland ; upon which his estate was forfeited, 1684, and he himself sentenced to be executed, whenever appre- hended. During his stay here, he was of great use to his countrymen, and had the honour to be employed by them as commissioner of the perse- | euted true Presbyterian Church of Christ in Scot- 1 1 land, having received commission from them to represent their case, and crave the sympathy of foreign churches ; and it was by his skill, industry, and faithfulness, in prosecuting this commission, that he prevailed with the presbytery of Gronin- gen, in 1683, to ordain the famous and faithful Mr James Ren wick, a minister of the gospel for the persecuted true Presbyterian church of Christ in Scotland ; and afterwards, as their delegate, with the presbytery of Embden, to ordain Mr Thomas Linning a minister of the gospel for the same church. Hamilton, by virtue of his commission, which i about that time he had received from the united societies,* went through several places of Germany, in the end of 1686 — for an old manuscript, given | under his own hand, dated March 10, 1687, bears, j that through many hazards and difficulties he ar- rived about Oct. 10, at Basil, in Switzerland ; from thence he went to Geneva, about Nov. 16 ; and so into Bern, Zurich, and other places in Batavia and the Helvetian cantons, not without many im- | minent hazards and dangers. In these places he conferred with the most part of their professors and other learned men, craving their judgment and * In the hands of some friends are yet to be seen two of these commissions in Latin, written on parchment, one of i which is a very beautiful copy on copperplate. sympathy toward his mother-church, and the poor persecuted people in the kingdom of Scotland.* But having emerged from these difficulties, he returned home at the Revolution, about which time i his brother, Sir William Hamilton of Preston, j | died, and he fell heir to his estate and honours. I Although after that he was still designated by the j i name of Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston ; yet, as he j could not acknowledge the legitimacy of the prince j and princess of Orange as king and queen of these | three covenanted nations, he never entered to, or j j intermeddled with, the estate. On the contrary, ' J with Moses he made that noble choice, rather u to | ; suffer affliction with the people of God than enjoy j the pleasures of sin for a season and esteemed a j I steadfast adherence to the cause of Christ, with all j the reproaches that followed thereon, greater riches j than all his brother’s estate. Out of true love to Jesus Christ, his covenanted cause, interest, and people, he laid his worldly honour in the dust, con- tinuing still a companion in the faith, patience, affliction, and tribulation, of that poor, mean, and despised handful of the Lord’s witnesses in these lands, who still owned and adhered to the state of the Lord’s covenanted cause in Scotland. A little after his return from Holland, when Messrs Linning, Shield, and Boyd, were drawing and enticing those who had formerly been faithful to, and owning and suffering for, the Lord’s cove- nanted cause, into a conformity and compliance with the defection of that time, in a general meet- ing held at Douglas, 6th Nov., 1689, Hamilton gave a faithful protestation against these proceed- ings as by them carried on ; and particularly their owning the existing government, while sworn to prelacy, in opposition to our laudable Establishment I and covenanted work of Reformation. He also protested against the raising of the Angus regiment, j which he took to be a sinful association with malig- nants ; lastly against rejoining with Erastian minis- ters at that time ; without any evidence of repent- j ance for the many gross sins and defections they were j guilty of. After these three ministers had yielded up that noble cause, and drawn many of their ad- herents into the same state of compliance with them, he had the honour to be the chief instrument in the Lord’s hand, in gathering together out of their dispersion such of the old sufferers as had escaped j these defections, and bringing them again into a united party and general correspondence, upon the former laudable and honest state of the testimony. Farther, he had a principal hand in drawing up I and publishing that faithful Declaration, published * See a more full account of his negotiations in the Neth- erlands for the suffering remnant, in a letter of his, published | in Faithful Contendings, pp. 1 86 — 220. SIR ROBERT HAMILTON. 651 at Sanquhar, Aug. 10, 1692, for which he was ap- ' prehended by some of the old persecuting soldiers, at Earlstoun, upon Sept. 10th following, and by them carried to Edinburgh, where, and elsewhere, he was kept prisoner till May 5, 1693. When he was brought before the council, September 15, 1692, there were present the viscount of Tarbet ; president Lothian ; Ker ; general Livingston ; lord Linlith- gow ; lord Breadalbane ; and Sir William Lockhart, solicitor. He was by them examined concerning that Declaration ; but he declined them, and all upon whom they depended, as competent judges, because they were not qualified according to the word of God, and our solemn Covenants. Being interrogated if he would take the oath of alle- giance, he answered, “No! it being an unlimited oath, not founded upon our covenants,” — If he would own the authority of king William and queen Mary ? he answered, “ I wish them well.” But being asked again, if he would own them and their government, live peaceably, and not rise against them? He answered ; u When they are admitted according to the laws of the crown, the acts of parliament, 1638 and 1649, founded upon our sa- cred Covenants and sound qualifications, according to these, pursuing the ends of these Covenants, then I shall give my answer.” Whereupon some of them turned hot, and Lothian said, They were pursuing the ends of the Covenants ; to whom he replied, “ How can that be, when joining with, and exalting the greatest of its enemies, whom by Covenant we are bound to extirpate ?” Another answered, He had taken the coronation-oath. At which Hamilton asked, “ What religion was estab- lished when that oath was taken?” They said, u Prelacy was abolished.” But he returned, “ Presbytery was not established ; so that he is not bound to us in religion, save to prelacy in Scot- land.” Being urged to the last question, he ad- hered to his former answers ; at which some of them raged, and said, — “ Would he give no se- curity for obedience and peaceable living?” To this he made answer, saying, “ I marvel why such questions are asked at me, who have lived so retiredly hitherto, neither plotting with York, France, or Monmouth, or any such, as the rumour was ; nor doing anything contrary to the laws of the nation enacted in the time of the purity of Presby- tery.” Lothian said, “We are ashamed of you!” He replied, “ Better you be ashamed of me, than I be ashamed of the laws of the church and nation, whereof you seem to be ashamed.” Lothian said, “ You desire to be involved in troubles.” Sir Robert answered, “I am not so lavish of either life or liberty ; but if the asserting of truth was an evidence thereof, it might be thought more strange.” He was however remanded to prison, where he continued until the 3d of May, 1693, when he was liberated. The day before his liberation, he gave in a most faithful protestation and declinature to the privy council and parliament of Scotland, with another letter of the same nature to Sir James Stuart, the advocate ; and upon his coming from the tolbooth, he was so far from yielding one jot, that he left another faithful protestation in the hand of the keepers, showing, that for his adhering to, and appearing for the fundamental laws and laudable constitution of our Church and covenanted na- tion, he had been apprehended and kept for eight months close prisoner, and that for his own ex- oneration and the vindication of truth, he left this protestation, disdaining all engagements to live peaceably. In coming to any terms either respect- ing oaths or bonds with those who had broken Co- venants, overturned the Reformation, and destroy- ed the people of God ; or engaging in a sinful peace with them, or any in confederacy with them, he declared that he came out of prison merely because of open doors ; desiring his protestation to be in- serted in the ordinary register. From his liberation to the day of his death he continued faithful in contending earnestly for “the faith once delivered to the saints,” Jude, ver. 3 ; and greatly strengthened and encouraged the rest of the suffering remnant with whom he continued in Christian communion, both by his pious and god- ly example, and seasonable counsel and advice, with respect to principles, and what concerned the salva- tion of their souls, the right carrying on of the testi- mony for the cause that they were owning. Some years before his death, he was subject to a severe malady, by which he endured a very sharp and sore affliction, which he bore with a great deal of Chris- tian patience and holy submission to the will of God ; and when drawing near his journey’s end, he gave a most faithful testimony to the Lord’s noble and honourable cause, which he had so long de- fended and for which he had so often suffered.* Thus after he had suffered many tribulations, and at last endured severe bodily affliction, in all of which he was still faithful in testifying for the word of Christ’s patience, he yielded up his life to that * Walker and others who have pretended a great regard ! for the principles and memory of some of our late sufferers, such as Messrs Cameron, Cargill, and Renwick, were not aware that this gentleman, and these Worthies, particularly the last, were the very same in principle to the end of their lives, as their own letters and testimonies evidence ; and so in con- demning him, they have not only tacitly condemned them, hut most avowedly relinquished the substantial part of the ! covenanted testimony of the Church of Scotland in her purest times ; and what can the Archbishop of Canterbury require ! more, never once to mention an anti-covenanter, a nullifidian, or lukewarm presbyterian ? God who gave him his being, at Borrowstounness, October 21, being then fifty-one years of age: — “And because thou hast kept the word of my patience, I will also keep thee from the hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth.” Thus ended another of Christ’s faithful witnesses, Sir Robert Hamilton, who, for soundness in the faith, true piety, real exercise of godliness, a con- versation becoming the gospel, and a true under- standing of the right state of the Lord’s cause, in every part thereof, accompanied with a true love and affection, and zeal according to knowledge for the same with steadfastness and stability to the last, maintained his cause against every opposition. He was equally superior to the influence of fear or flat- tery, and to most of the same rank in that age. Without flattery it may be said, he was an honour to the name of Hamilton, and to his nation. The faithful Mr Renwick called him Mi pater , “ my father!” and had a high esteem and regard for him, as the contents of most of his letters bear. In the very last letter he wrote, he accosts him thus : “If I had lived, and been qualified for writing a book, and if it had been dedicated to any, you would have been the man ; for I have loved you, and I have peace before God in that ; and I bless his name that ever I have been acquainted with you.” And in- deed he was not mistaken in him ; for he was one who both professed and practised truth, was bold in Christ’s cause, and had ventured life, wealth, and reputation, in defence thereof. He truly said of him, what was said of the emperor Marcus Antoninus, In omni vita sui similis , nec ulla unquam in re muta- tus fuit. Itaque vere fuit vir bonus , nec jictum aut simulatum quicquam Jiabuit. [In every part of his life he was consistent ; in nothing evincing the slight- est tendency to fickleness ; — so that he was in real- ity a good man, entirely free from falsehood and ! dissimulation.] Testimony of Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston. “ Though I have many things that might dis- courage me from showing myself this way at such j a time, when the Lord’s controverted truths, his I covenanted reformation, and the wrestlings of his faithful and slain witnesses, are things so much flouted at, despised and buried, not only by the profane, but alas ! even by the ministers and pro- fessors of this generation ; yet I could not but leave this short line to you, who of all interests in the | world have been my greatest comfort ; being now | come to the utmost period of my time, and looking in upon my eternal state, it cannot be readily ap- prehended by rational men, that I should dare to write anything, but according to what I expect 1 shortly to be judged ; having had such a long time to consider on my ways, under a sharp affliction. I As for my case, I bless God it is many years since my interest in him was secured, and under all my afflictions from all quarters, he hath been a present help in time of my greatest need. I have been a ! man of reproach, a man of contention ; .but praise j to him, it was not for my own things, but for the things of my Lord Jesus Christ. Whatever were my infirmities, yet his glory, the rising and flourish- ing of his kingdom, was still the mark I laboured to shoot at : nor is it now my design to vindicate myself from the calumnies that have been cast upon my name ; for, when his slain witnesses shall be vindicated, his own glory and buried truths raised up, in that day he will assuredly take away the reproaches of his servants, and will raise and beautify the name of his living and dead witnesses. Only this I must add, though that I cannot but say, that reproaches have broken my heart, yet with what I have met with before, and at the time of Bothwell battle, and also since, I had often more difficulty to carry humble under the glory of his cross, than to bear the burden of it. O ! peace with God, and peace of conscience, is a sweet feast ! “ How, as to his public cause that he hath hon- oured you in some measure to side with, stand fast j therein : let no man take your crown, for it is the ' road he will take in coming to this poor land ; and i ■praise him for honouring such poor things as you j are, as to make you wish well to his cause, when church and state and all ranks have turned their back upon it : and my humble advice to you as a dying brother is, to stand still and beware of all tampering with these betrayers of the royal interest and concerns of Christ’s kingdom, and listen to no conferences with the ministers and professors of this ! generation, till the public defections of this land, from the doleful source of all our ruin and misery, ; that sin of the public resolutions, the compliance ! with prelacy, the church-ruining and dividing in- j diligences and toleration, until the present sinful course of vindicating all these defections, and bury- I ing all the testimonies against the same; I say j until these be acknowledged and publicly rejected and disowned both by church and state. “I die a true protestant, and to my knowledge, i a reformed Presbyterian, in opposition to popery, , prelacy, and malignancy, and whatever is contrary j to truth, and the power of godliness, as well against flattering pretenders to unwarrantable zeal on the right hand, as against lukewarmness on the left ; adhering with my soul to the holy sweet Scriptures, | which have often comforted me in the house of my | WILLIAM VEITCII. 653 pilgrimage, our Confession of Faith, our Catechisms, the Directory for Worship, Covenants, National and Solemn League and Covenant, acknowledgment of sins, and engagement to duties, with the Causes of God’s Wrath, and to all the faithful public testi- monies given against defections of old or late, par- ticularly these contained in the informatory vindi- cations, and that against the toleration, and the last two declarations emitted since this fatal Revolution ; which testimonies I ever looked upon as a door of hope of the Lord’s returning again to, these poor backsliding lands. “And now, my dear friends, let nothing dis- courage you in that way. The Lord will maintain his own cause and make it a way to triumph. The nearer to day it may be the darker, but yet in the evening time it shall he light ; and the farther distant ye keep from all the courses and interests of this generation, the greater will your peace and security be. O ! labour to be in Christ, for him, and like him ; be much in reading of the Holy Scriptures, much in prayer and holy unity among yourselves. Be zealous and tender in keeping up your private fellowship for prayer and Christian conference, as also your public correspondences, and general meet- ings, go to them and come from them as those in- trusted, really concerned and weighted, with Christ’s precious controverted truths in Scotland ; and labour still to take Christ along with you to all your meet- ings, and to behave yourselves as under his holy and all-seeing eye when at them, that ye may al- ways return with a blessing from his rich hand. “Now, farewell, my dear Christian friends, the Lord send us a joyful meeting at his own right hand, after time ; which shall be the earnest desire, while in time, of your dying friend, (Signed) “R. Hamilton.” Borrowstounness, Sept. 5, 1701. WILLIAM VEITCH. William Yeitch was born at Roberton, near Lanark, in 1640. He was the youngest son of Mr John Yeitch, who was minister of that place for about the space of forty-five years. His brothers were John, who was minister of Westruther fifty- four years ; James, who was ordained minister at Mauchline, in 1656 ; and David, the most em- inent of them all, who was some time minister at Govan, contemporary and copresbyter with the famous Mr Durham, to whom Mr Rutherford gave this testimony at his trials, “ That the like of David Yeitch, in his age, for learning and piety, he had never known.” William, having taken his degrees at Glasgow in 1650, was resolved to follow the practice of physic, as having so many brothers in the ministry, and episcopacy being apparently to be settled in the kingdom. Being then in the family of Sir Andrew Kerr of Greenhead, Mr Livingston, minister of Ancrum, frequenting that house with other godly ministers, by many arguments dissuaded him from j his intended design, and exhorted him to follow the footsteps of his brothers who were much esteemed in the church. In 1663, he went to Murrayland, where he was j some time chaplain to Sir Hugh Campbell of j Calder’s family ; but at the instigation of M‘Kenzie, then bishop of Murray, he was obliged about September, 1664, to leave this family. He then returned home to his father who was residing at Lanark, having been ejected from his own parish by the prelates ; at which time he became acquainted ! with Marion Fairlie whom he married ; and, being | a woman eminent for religion, she proved a great i blessing to him afterwards. In 1666, he was solicited and prevailed upon by Mr John Welch to join that party who were so ' oppressed by the inhuman cruelties of Sir James I Turner and his forces, then lying at Dumfries. J Accordingly, after the Galloway troops had taken Sir James, Yeitch and Major Lermont went west i and joined them on a hill above Galston. Next day they sent him with forty or fifty horse to take ! up quarters in the town of Ayr. After some respite, they marched up the water ! of Ayr towards Douglas, and from thence to Lan- ark, Dalziel and his army having come as far as ! Strathaven in quest of them ; but hearing they were at Lanark, he turned thither after them. In the mean time, the honest party being above 1500 horse and foot, it was thought proper that both the National and Solemn League and Covenant should be by them renewed, which they did with great solemnity; and, hearing that Dalziel ap- proached, they concluded it would be best to abide some time there — as the heavy rains had made Clyde impassable except by boat — until the water decreased, and that fifty of their number might be able to stop his passage at the river, which might be both a dash upon the enemy, and encouraging to friends to join them at that place, j But unhappily a letter came at that juncture from j Sir James Stuart (Advocate after the Revolution), ! , to Messrs Welch and Semple, to come as near j Edinburgh as possible, where they would get men j and other necessaries. This made them break ! their resolution, and march for Bathgate, where, j[ both night and snow coming on, they concluded to j go forward to Collington. SCOTS WORTHIES. I ~ | 654 I Having taken up their quarters, they consulted j how they should do in answer to Mr Stuart’s let- 1 ter ; and at last chose Yeitch to go to Edinburgh, and converse with him anent the promised supply. This, against his own mind, at the importunity of colonel Wallace, he undertook; and having dis- guised himself with a baggage-horse, an old hat and cloak, Mr McCormick conveyed him a little ! way, minding him of several things to communi- cate to Sir J ames Stuart. He had not pro- ceeded far till he met a brisk young fellow riding with a drawn sword in his hand, who asked “which way he came?” He said, “Biggar way.” “ But,” said he, “Did you not see all Collington on fire? j I fear my house be burnt ; for I hear the Whigs are come.” Yeitch declared his ignorance of this ; and so they parted. Near Greenhill park he met three women, who told him if he went by Green- hill house he was a dead man ; for lord Kingston was placed there with a party to intercept all the Whigs coming to town. This made him take a by-road to Libberton Wynd. A little farther he espied a sentinel on horseback, which obliged him to take Dalkeith way; but coming hither, some colliers told him there was no getting to the town, all the ports being shut, and guards set upon them. This put him to a stand. Reason said “You must turn back;” Credit cried, “You must go forward, else lose your reputation.” In this manner he pro- ceeded till taken by two sentinels and carried to the Potterrow Port, where he was examined by the captain of the guard ; and, instead of being let into the city, was sent with a file of musqueteers | back to lord Kingston. Yeitch in this sad dilemma I had no other comfort but to pray to God that he | would direct him what to do or say, if he had a ! mind to spare him any longer. He was examined by Kin gston, to whom he gave soft answers. In ! the mean time an alarm rose that the Whigs approached — Kingston called them to arms — where- j upon Yeitch said he would go against them in the j first rank. This made Kingston say he was a J brave fellow. After the hurry was over, with great difficulty he got off into the town. But finding nothing could be got there, and hearing next morning that j the Western forces marched toward Pentland-hills, I he ventured to return by Libberton toward the j ; House in the Moor ; and making his escape at Pent- i land town when passing through Roslin moor on his ! way to Glencross water, the advanced guard of ! Dalziel’s horse had almost taken him. But being | : within cry of captain Paton, now lieutenant of the I I rear guard of the Western army, who had beat back j Dalziel’s horse, and delivered him, he said, “O Sir, we took you for a dead man, and repented sore we sent you on such an unreasonable undertaking !” As they rode towards Pentland-hills, they per- ceived their friends leaving the highway, marching their main body towards the hill, and a select body to the top. General Dalziel’s coming from Currie through the hills occasioned this. It was the 28th of November 1666. It had been snow and frost the night before ; but the day was pretty clear, and sun- shine. In half an hour, Dalziel’s select party, under Drummond, fell upon their select party, but was beat back, to the great consternation of their army ; hundreds of whom, as they were marching through the hills, threw down their arms and ran. Drum- mond himself afterwards acknowledged, that if they had pursued this advantage they had utterly ruined Dalziel’s army. M‘Leland of Barmaguhen and Mr Crookshanks commanded the first party, who took some prisoners ; Major Lermont commanded the second party, who beat the enemy again, where the Duke of Hamilton narrowly escaped, by the Dean of Hamilton’s laying his sword upon the Duke’s back, which warded off the countryman’s blow. Dalziel sending up a party to rescue him, Major Lermont’s horse was shot under him ; but he, starting back to a dike, killed one of the four pursuers, mounted his horse, and came off in spite of the other three. The last encounter took place at dawn of day when the Covenanters were broken ; and Yeitch falling in amongst a whole troop of the enemy, they turned his horse in the dark, and violently carried him along with them, not knowing but he was one of their own. But they faffing down the hill in the pursuit, and he wearing up- wards, the moon rising clear, for fear of being dis- covered he was obliged to steer off; which they perceiving, cried out and pursued, discharging several shot at him : but their horses sinking, they could not make the hill ; and so he escaped and came that night to a herd’s house in Dunsyre common, not far from his own habita- tion. A little after this, he met with another remark- able deliverance at the Laird of Auston’s, when the enemy were there in pursuit of his son-in-law, Ma- jor Lermont. After this Yeitch, being obliged to abscond, went off for Newcastle, where he con- tinued some time. Here he took the name of William Johnston, his mother being of that name. After a considerable time of trouble, when he be- came unwell through the fatigue and cold he had got in winter, he went home to visit his wife, where he again narrowly escaped, and therefore returned to Newcastle. From thence he was invited to London, where he preached sometimes for Mr Blackie ; particularly one Sabbath, on these words, ‘ ‘If thou hadst known in this thy day,” &c. After the WILLIAM VEITCII. blessing was pronounced, some of the audience cried “Treason, treason;” which surprised Blaclde and the people, till colonel Blood stood up and said, “ Good people, we have heard nothing but Reason, reason and thus saved Veitch, which ended the business. Yeitch travelled from place to place, sometimes | at London, sometimes Nottingham, Chester, Lan- j caster, sometimes in Northumberland, especially in Reidsdale, till 1671, that he was persuaded to bring his wife and family to that county, which he did, and settled for some time within the parish of Rothbury in Northumberland. But no sooner was he settled here, though in a moorish place, than the Popish gang stirred up enemies to him on account of his little meeting ; which obliged him to remove five miles farther up the country, to a place called Harnam-hall, where many out of curiosity frequented his preaching. Anabaptists, likewise, who kept seventh-day Sabbaths, were punctual attenders. Here he had no small success in reforming the people’s morals ; several instances of which, for brevity’s sake, must here be omitted. But the devil envying these small beginnings again stirred him up enemies, particularly one Justice Lorrain, who, at the instigation of the clergy, issued out warrants to apprehend him. But this misgiving, Lorrain, in one of his drinking fits, promised to go in person next Sabbath and put an end to these meetings. But not many hours after, he by an un- lucky accident got his leg broke, so that he could travel none for many weeks after. Having continued there four years, he removed to Stantonhall, where he found the country filled with Papists, and the parish church occupied by i Thomas Bell, a violent persecutor. This Bell, though he was his own countryman, and had re- ceived many favours from Veitch’s brother, was so maliciously set against him, that he vowed to some professed Papists, who were stimulating him on against that meeting, that he would either ruin Yeitch, or he him. And, as the event proved, he was no false prophet ; for he never gave over till he got one Major Oglethorp to apprehend him, which he did, January 19, 1679. After several vicissitudes he was brought to Edinburgh, and on February 22 examined be- fore a committee of the council, where bishop Sharp was president. Anxious to insnare him the bishop put a number of questions ; one of which was, “Have you taken the covenant?” He answered, “This Honourable Board may easily perceive I was not capable of taking the covenant when you and other ministers tendered it; at which the whole com- pany gave a laugh, which somewhat nettled the 655 bishops. They asked, “Hid you never take it since ?’ “ I judge myself obliged to covenant myself away to God, and frequently to renew it.” Bishop Pa- terson stood up and said, “You will get no good out of this man ; he is all evasion.” After other ques- tions, he was required to subscribe his own con- fession : this he assented to if without any addi- tions, which at last through Lundy’s influence they granted; and although they could prove .nothing criminal against him, he was remanded to prison, and by a letter from the king turned over to the criminal court, which was to meet March 18, but adjourned to two different terms after till the month of July, that sentence of death was to have been passed upon him upon the old sentence in 1666. Yeitch now finding sentence of death was to be passed upon him, prevailed with his friend Mr Gilbert Elliot to ride to London ; where, not having access to Lauderdale, he applied to Shaftesbury, got his case printed, and a copy given to each member of parliament. The king being applied to and threatened with a parliamen- tary inquiry, he was at length liberated under sen- tence of banishment to England ; whither he with- drew in a short time after. Whilst these affairs were transacting, bishop Sharp was cut off at Magus-moor, the account of which it is needless to relate here, being given elsewhere. We may however mention a circum- { stance or two somewhat different from any which I we then stated, viz., that after they had fired several ; pistols at him in the coach, when he was dragged out Burley discharged a brazen blunderbuss, loaded j with several bullets, so near his breast, that his j gown, clothes, and shirt were burnt, and he fell j flat on his face. Thinking a window was made through his body they went off ; one however stay- ing to tie his horse’s girth heard his daughter call to the coachman for help, for her father was yet alive ; which made him call back the rest, knowing if he was not dead, their case would be worse than ever. Burley (or Balfour) coming to him while yet lying on his face, putting his hat off with his foot, struck him on the head till his brains were seen ; when with a cry he expired. Searching his pockets, they found the king’s letter for executing more cruelties, as also a small purse with two pistol bullets ; a little ball made up of all colours of silk, like an ordinary plumb ; a bit of parchment a finger-breadth in length, with two long words written upon it which none could read, though the characters were like Hebrew or Chaldaic. This they took, but meddled with neither money nor watch. After two surgeons had examined his body by order of the council, the blue marks of the bullets were seen about his neck, back, and breast, where 656 SCOTS WORTHIES. the clothes were burnt ; but in all these places the skin was not broken ; so that the wound in his head alone had killed him ; which occasioned a universal talk, that he had got proof against shot from the devil, and that the fore-mentioned purse contained the charm. However, his brother got liberty to erect a marble monument to him, which, instead f of doing him honour, stands yet in St Andrews as I an ensign of his infamy to this day. The rising at Both well immediately followed this. | But the Covenanters being then dispersed, an indem- ] nity was granted to those concerned in it, one of the conditions being that no ministers should preach without liberty given. That no minister could assent to. Monmouth, however, upon Shaftesbury’s recommendation, inserted Yeitch’s name in the roll with the rest ; but, by bishop Paterson’s influence it was afterwards erased. This made Monmouth ! say he should get the matter done another way i as soon as he came to London; which coming ! to Lauderdale’s ears at court, through the influ- | ence of lord Stair the king signed a warrant com- j muting the sentence of death to banishment from | Scotland. Being thus liberated, he returned to his old habitation in England. Not long after his return, hearing that they in- I tended to apprehend him again, he retired west- i ward into the English borders, where he frequently | preached at Kilderhead, Wheeler, Causeway, Dead- water, and other places. What wonderful success the preaching of the gospel had by ministers retiring thither under the persecuting period, to the repressing, yea almost extinguishing the feuds, thefts, and robberies so frequent about the borders, is worthy of serious consideration. Before his apprehension, he had preached 'with ! much success at Bluecaim in Laudermoor, and I several places in the Merse and Teviotdaie, espe- I cially at Fogo-moor, upon these words, Psalm cii. 13. | “Thou shalt arise, and have mercy upon Zion,” &c., j after which he had a very remarkable escape from j his enemies. After his return, upon an invitation j from jVIr Temple, he went to Berwick ; but infor- i mation having been received that the earl of Argyle had escaped from Edinburgh caused no small con- fusion in that place. Having surmounted several difficulties by means of his good friend’s acquain- tance, he got safe to the house of Mr Ogle the ejected minister of Berwick, six miles from that place, who invited him to stay till Sabbath was over, and perform an old promise of giving a sermon to one Hall and his lady ; to which he assented. Upon going to bed after this confusion, he, being weary, fell asleep, and dreamed that his house at Stanton-hall, more than thirty miles distant, was on fire ; which awoke him in no small consternation, resolving to take his journey home ; but it not be- ing time to rise, he fell asleep and dreamed the same thing over again, awaking all in a sweat. The doubling of the dream he took for a clear call to go home ; and, telling the dream to Ogle, who called it a fantasy, he excused himself the best way he could to the laird and lady, to whom he was to preach, and went off. About a mile and a half from his own house, he met Torwoodlee’s servant, who said, “ O Sir, you are long looked for at your house which made him ask what was the matter ; and if his family were all well. He answered, “ Yes ; but there is a stranger, — viz., Argyle ; — and your wife longs to see you, and we have been for two days sending about the country to find you.” After meeting and some conversation, with his wife’s consent he undertook to do his best for con- veying the earl safe to London. Thus he took Argyle, under the name of Mr Hope, along with him to Midburn Grange where he was to preach that Sabbath ; and on Monday to a friend’s house between Newcastle and Newburn, where he left him and went to Newcastle, having bought three horses for him at his own expense, the earl being then scarce of money. Without much exposure or difficulty they arrived safe in London. After staying some time in London, Argyle set off to join Monmouth in Holland, and Yeitch re- turned to his house in Stanton-hall. But the mat- ter transpiring he narrowly escaped being taken ; and, after concealing himself in various lurking- places, he was obliged to go over secretly to Hol- land, where he met with several old friends and ac- quaintances, Monmouth, Argyle, earl of Melvill, Polwart, Torwoodlee, and James Stuart. Mon- mouth and Argyle having agreed to make a descent at one and the same time, the one on England and the other on Scotland, several of their friends were sent over, incognito , to warn their friends in both kingdoms to make ready. It was Yeitch’s part to give Northumberland and the Scots borders notice. He had a verbal commission from Argyle to pro- cure money for purchasing arms, drums, colours, horses, and raising men, especially Oliverian officers; some of all which he did ; but the matter trans- piring, he was obliged to hide himself near Reids - dale-head, even from his friends ; where he narrow- ly escaped being taken while covered only with heather; colonel Struthers and Meldrum’s troops being out in quest of him and others. But this enterprise failing, Argyle being defeated and taken in Scotland, and Monmouth in England, the design came to nothing. Veitch, besides his time and trouble, — where he was in many dangers, — lost about £120 Sterling, with interest ; and though I ! I i I WILLIAM VEITCIL 657 Argyle’s son, the late duke, gave him repeated promises to reimburse him, yet never was there anything of the kind done, his kindness being soon forgot. Prior to this affair of Monmouth and Argyle, one tyrant was cut off to make way for another ; but, as the death of king Charles II. is related by so many historians, it would be out of place to dilate upon it here. After the defeat of Monmouth and Argyle, Yeitch was obliged to lurk for some time in a wood near Newcastle, until the storm was a little calmed ; and then he ventured to that town to see his wife and family, where he met with some of his Scots relations — some other good people of the town were also there. They spent a part of the night in prayer and mourning over the sad state the church was then in, the most part fearing they were never to see good days again. After this, Yeitch being wearied with such toil and confinement, went with a Nottingham mer- chant to Yorkshire, and staid some time in a town called South-cave. From thence he was invited to preach to the people of Beverley. Here he met with another remarkable deliverance ; for the mayor and aldermen surrounding the house where he was preaching, caused the clerk to write down all their names; but Yeitch, by means of his landlord, got off under the name of William Robertson. Thus he escaped and hid himself some time among bushes, and then went to a house two miles from town, where he preached out the rest of his sermon to some people that followed that way, and then went home with his landlord. From thence Yeitch returned to Yorkshire, where he met with another deliverance ; for, a Scots Jes- uit priest knowing him procured a warrant to ap- prehend him ; but, by divine providence, he escap- ed and went toward Newcastle, and from thence to Nottingham. While there, king James’ in- demnity and liberty were proclaimed ; and then he had a call from the people of Beverley to be their minister, which he complied with. At this place he had a numerous congregation, and several times he was invited to preach at Hull, six miles from thence. There the people declared there never was such a reformation in that place . Some of the justices of the peace there, being papists, were greatly incensed against it, and used all means to stop his preaching ; but were opposed by the people. Yeitch never had more satisfaction in his ministerial work, as he says, than in that place. Having preached six or seven months there, he erected a meeting-house, and wrought a great re- formation on the people, after which he was in- vited to his native country by those who had ac- cepted of the toleration then granted. His wife being anxious for his return, he took leave of Bev- erley, a pleasant city, having preached his farewell sermon where there were many tears shed. In his way home he visited his friends at Darntoun, who persuaded him to stay some time, where he settled a congregation, and left one Air Long as his successor to that people. After all im- pediments were removed, he returned to his na- tive land, where the people in the parishes of Ox- ham, Creilland, Eckford, Linton, Morbattle, and Harnam, gave him a call to preach to them at Whitton-hall ; to which charge he entered in April, 1688. Here he continued that summer, being sometimes invited to preach at Reidsdale, on the English side. But the prince of Orange having landed in England, Nov. 4, 1688, the ministers of Scotland who had been ejected thought it expe- dient to meet at Edinburgh, and call all their brethren to attend there, to hold a consultation. It fell out unexpectedly to Yeitch, that the meeting voted him to preach next day in the new meeting-house over against Libberton’s Wynd. This he was most averse to, being for the most part a stranger to the transactions in Scotland for up- ward of thirty years. But his reasons not being attended to, he was so perplexed what to do, that till eight o’clock he could not find a text ; but at length falling upon Psal. cxix. 118, — “ Thou hast trodden down all them that err from thy statutes : for their deceit is falsehood,” he was all night in meditation without going to bed. When he came to the pulpit, seeing sixteen of the old ministers sitting, and the congregation greatly increasing, his fear increased also. However, he delivered his thoughts upon the subject, with re- spect to existing circumstances, with such freedom and plainness, as offended the prelates, who after- wards sent him a message that ere long they re- solved to be even with him. All the answer he re- turned them was, “ to put on their spurs.” Upon the other hand, he seemed to give offence to the godly party, by some free expressions he used with respect to the existing government, if Presbytery was established. When the Presbyterian church was restored, he had calls from several parishes, viz., one from Creil- land, another from Melrose, and a third from Peebles, which he was persuaded by the earl of Crawford and others to embrace ; and yet he met with such opposition there from the old duke of Queensberry, that the church was so overawed as to loose him from that charge. Having a call 4 o SCOTS WORTHIES. 658 from Edinburgh, one from Paisley, and another from Dumfries, the Assembly, hearing his aversion to Edinburgh, voted him to Dumfries after he had been minister of Peebles full four years, from September 1690 to 1694, when he was admitted to his ministry at Dumfries. He left Peebles with great aversion, not only with respect to the parish but the country round about ; and, on a new call for restoration, lost it by a majority of only four voices. He lost also all his legal stipend during his four years’ incumbency, which, with the expense of suit, amounted to 10,000 merks. Veitch’s hard usage from the As- sembly, with their illegally removing him merely to please the duke, and send him to Dumfries, made him resolve to leave the nation, and refuse to submit to their sentence. In the mean time his old friends in England hearing this sent a gentle- man to Peebles to bring him back. Veitch went with him ; but he refused to remain till he had settled with the Commission of the Church, to whom the matter was referred. Upon his return, they persuaded him to submit ; which at last he did, and continued minister in that place until the day of his death, which happened about the year 1720, being then about eighty years of age. From the foregoing account two things are con- spicuous. First, that the whole of Yeitch’s life, at least during the persecuting period, was attended with a train of remarkable occurrences of divine providence. Secondly, that in that time he behoved to be a most powerful and awakening preacher, from the influence he had upon the manners and morals of those who attended his sermons. Nor is it any disparagement to him, that that foul- mouthed calumniator, in his “Presbyterian Elo- quence Displayed,” has published to the world, “ That he murdered the bodies as well as the souls of two or three persons with one sermon, because, says he, preaching in the town of Jedburgh, he said, There are two thousand of you here , hut I am sure eighty of you will not he saved ; upon which three of his ignorant hearers despatched themselves soon after.” Indeed, it must be granted that, after the Revolution, in the latter end of his life he be- came somewhat inimical and unfriendly to some of the Dissenters. Whether this proceeded from the dotage of old age, or from mistaken principles, we cannot, and shall not at present determine. JOHN BALFOUR OF KINLOCII. John Balfour of Kinloch, sometimes called Burley, was a gentleman of Fife. lie joined with the more faithful part of our late sufferers ; and al- though he was by some reckoned none of the most religious, yet he was always zealous and honest- hearted, courageous in every enterprise, a brave soldier, seldom any escaping that came into his hands. He was the principal actor in killing that arch-traitor to the Lord and his Christ, James Sharp ; after which his goods were inventoried by the sheriff, his life and fortune forfeited, and a re- ward of 10,000 merks offered for his apprehension. He was a commanding officer at Drumclog and Bothwell ; at Drumclog he was the first who with his party got over the ditch upon the enemy. At Bothwell he was still among the more faithful part, and at the battle behaved himself with great gal- lantry. At the meeting at Loudon-hill, May 5th, 1641, it is said that he disarmed one of the duke of Hamilton’s men, taking from his saddle a pair of fine pistols belonging to the duke, telling him to say to his master, that he would keep them till he met him. Afterwards when the duke asked his man what he was like, he told him he was a little man, squint-eyed, and of a very fierce aspect ; the duke said he knew who it was, and withal prayed that he might never see his face, for if he should, he was sure he would not live long. After this he lurked mostly among his suffering brethren ; and, a little before the Revolution, went over to Holland, where he joined the prince of Orange, afterwards king William ; and having still a desire to be aven- ged upon those who persecuted the Lord’s cause and people in Scotland, it is said he obtained liberty from the prince for that purpose, but died at sea, before their arrival in Scotland, whereby that design was never accomplished, and so the land was never purged by the blood of them who had shed innocent blood, according to the law of the Lord, “ Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed.” Messrs ROBERT TRAIL. Messrs Robert Trail, the father and son, de- serve a place among the Scots Worthies, as they were brought to much trouble for their faithfulness and zeal for our Reformation-principles. Robert Trail — the father — one of the ministers of Edin- burgh, along with Mr James Guthrie and others, met in a private house there, and assisted in draw- ing up an humble address and supplication to the king ; but before it was finished, they were appre- hended by the managers of the times, and commit- ted prisoners to the castle of Edinburgh without a hearing. Matters went so high at that time, that a simple proposal of petitioning the king for a ANDREW SIMPSON.— WILLIAM SCOTT. 659 redress of grievances was reckoned criminal. In August, 1661, Trail was brought before the lords of Articles, and afterwards before the parliament, where he delivered an excellent speech* in his own defence, and pointed out the cruelty and injustice then exercised, and the many false accusations that were exhibited against him and his reverend breth- ren. After seven months’ imprisonment, he wrote to Mr Thomas Wylie, minister at Kircudbright, saying : — “ I need not write to you how matters do here. This I must say, your imprisoned breth- ren are kindly dealt with by our kind Lord, for whose cause and interest we suffer ; and if any of us be straitened, it is not in him, for we have large allowance from him could we take it. We know it fares the better with us, that you, and such as you, mind us at the throne. We are waiting from day to day to see what men will do with us ; at best we are expecting banishment ; but our sen- tence must proceed from the Lord ; and whatso- ever it shall be, it is good from Him ; and whithersoever he shall send us, he will be with us, and shall let us know that the earth is His ; and the fulness thereof.” Such was the submissive Christian temper of these Worthies. He was afterwards banished, and took refuge in Holland. On the 19th of July, 1677, their persecuting fury broke out against his son Robert. Being ac- cused of holding field conventicles, he was brought before the council, where he acknowledged that he had kept house-conventicles. But being asked if he had preached at field-conventicles, he refer- red that to proof, because the law made it crim- inal. He owned that he had conversed with Mr Welch when on the English border, and that he had been ordained to the ministry by Presbyterian ministers in London, 1660. Refusing to clear himself by oath, he was sent to the Bass ; and major Johnston got £1000 Scots for apprehending him. We have no account at what time he was re- leased ; but he was afterwards a useful minister to a congregation of Dissenters in London, where he continued many years, and laboured with great diligence, zeal, and success. Here he published his Vindication of the Protestant Doctrine of Justi- fication, — prompted thereto by his zeal for that distinguished doctrine of the Reformation, — and his sermon On the Throne of Grace and the Lord’s Prayer, at the earnest desire of those who heard them. His sermons on Heb. x. 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, * This excellent speech may he seen in Wodrow’s History, vol. i. p. 73. entitled, — “ A steadfast Adherence to the Profes- sion of our Faith,” were published after his death, at the request of many of his hearers. The sim- plicity and evangelical strain of his works have been savoury to many, and will ever be so, while religion and scripture-doctrine are in request. ANDREW SIMPSON. Andrew Simpson, minister at Dryburgh, was a man who cared so little for worldly things, that he scarce knew the current coin of the country ; but was much taken up with his Bible and prayer. He was a free reprover of whatever he thought sinful ; and on that account he was, by order of the parlia- ment, 1621, imprisoned in the castle of Dumbarton, where the Lord blessed his preaching and prayer by the conversion from popery of the lady of Sir John Stuart, the captain of the castle. After a while he was liberated, and returned to Dryburgh, where, and at Merton, he preached till his death. Being a man of singular humility and patience, it may be mentioned that, once when walking alone, he fell and broke his leg. ’When found, he was sit- ting holding his leg, devoutly exclaiming, “Blessed be the Lord ! O blessed be the name of the Lord !” and when asked why he said so, he answered, — “We ought to bless the Lord for all that befalls us, and that I brake not my neck instead of my leg.” WILLIAM SCOTT. William Scott, minister at Cupar in Fife, was a wise, learned, and prudent man. He understood the laws and customs of the nation among the best of his time. He was one of the eight ministers called up by the king before the pretended Assem- bly which brought in Episcopacy in 1610, and by his prudence was very helpful to his brethren ; so that their enemies got no advantage, and he ac- quired both love and esteem by it. It is said that the earl of Salisbury, having highly esteemed him, offered him a considerable pension if he would stay in England ; but having got liberty to return home, he chose that rather than the earl’s offer. He died about the year 1642 ; leaving behind him a History of the Church from the year 1610, till Perth Assembly, 1618. APPENDIX. [In order to render the Work as complete and interesting as possible, we have thought it might not be unacceptable to lay before the Header, in chronological order, by way of Appendix, copies of the original Protestations and Declarations which are frequently referred to in the preceding Memoirs ; together with the Minutes of the Glasgow Assembly in 1638, connected with the Second Reformation, and imbodying the principles which our Covenanting forefathers held to be the basis of a true Presbyterian Church, as founded upon the word of God, in opposition to Erastian Prelacy, while Charles I. and his profligate son (the most unprincipled monarch that ever swayed the British sceptre,) were threatening to annihilate that beautiful fabric which Knox and his coadjutors had reared after the demolition of Popery. To these we have added a succinct narrative of the Battles at Pentland, Drumclog, Bothwell Bridge, and Airsmoss, where thousands of the Covenanters, after being goaded to resistance by oppression, sealed their Testimony with their blood, when forced to take up arms in defence of a religion which was dearer to them than their lives. Subsequent to these we have given the Declarations emitted at Rutherglen, Glasgow, Queensferry, Sanquhar, and Lanark, during the hottest period of the persecution ; the principles of which having been cherished and maintained by the Evangelical party in the Church, and transmitted from sire to son, have at length brought about the Third Reformation. The connexion between the recent struggle and that which effected the Second Reformation has already been most ably elucidated by the Rev. Dr Buchanan in his Introductory Essay to this Work.] No. I. Protestation offered to the Estates convened in Parliament at Perth , anno , 1606. “ The earnest desire of our hearts is to be faithful, and in case we would have been silent and unfaithful at this time, when the undermined estate of Christ’s kirk craveth a duty at our hands, we should have locked up our hearts with patience, and our mouths with taciturnity, rather than to have impeached any with our admonition. But for that which Christ commandeth, necessity urgeth, and duty wring- eth out of us, to be faithful office-bearers in the kirk of God, no man can justly blame us, providing we hold ourselves within the bounds of that Christian moderation which fol- loweth God, without injury done to any man, especially these whom God hath lapped up within the skirts of his own hon- ourable styles and names, calling them gods upon earth. “Now, therefore, my lords, convened in this present parliament, under the most high and excellent Majesty of our dread Sovereign, to your Honours is our exhortation, that ye would endeavour, with all singleness of heart, love and zeal, to advance the building of the house of God, reserving always unto the Lord’s own hand, that glory which he will communicate neither with men nor angels, viz., to prescribe from his holy mountain, a lively pattern, according to which his own tabernacle should be formed. Remembering always, that there is no absolute and undoubted authority in this world, excepting the sovereign authority of Christ the King, to whom it belongeth as properly to rule the kirk, according to the good pleasure of his own will, as it belongeth to him to save his kirk, by the merit of his own sufferings. All other authority is so entrenched within the marches of divine commandment, that the least overpassing of the bounds set by God himself, bringeth men under the fearful expectation of temporal and eternal judgments. For this cause, my lords, let that authority of your meeting in this present parliament, be like the ocean, which, as it is the greatest of all other waters, so it containeth itself better within the coasts and limits appointed by God, than any rivers of fresh running waters have done. “ Next, remember that God hath sent you to be nursing- fathers to the kirk, craving of your hands, that ye would maintain and advance by your authority, that kirk which the Lord hath fashioned, by the uncounterfeited work of his own new creation, as the prophet speaketh, He hath made us, and not tee ourselves ; not that ye should presume to fashion and shape a new portraiture of a kirk, and a new form of divine service, which God in his word hath not before allowed ; because, that were you to extend your authority farther than the calling ye have of God doth permit, as namely, if ye should (as God forbid) authorize the authority of bishops, and their pre-eminence above their brethren, ye should bring into the kirk of God the ordinance of man, and that thing which the experience of preceding ages hath testified to be the ground of great idleness, palpable ignorance, insufferable pride, pitiless tyranny, and shameless ambition, in the kirk of God ; and, finally, to have been the ground of that Anti- christian hierarchy, which mounted up on the steps of pre- eminence of bishops, until that Man of Sin came forth, as the ripe fruit of man’s wisdom, whom God shall consume with the breath of his own mouth. Let the sword of God pierce that belly which brought forth such a monster ; and let the staff of God crush that egg which hath hatched such a cock- atrice : and let not only that Roman Antichrist be thrown down from the high bench of his usurped authority ; but also let all the steps, whereby he mounted up to that unlawful pre-eminence, be cut down, and utterly abolished in this land. “ Above all things, my lords, beware to strive against God with an open and displayed banner, by building up again the walls of Jericho, which the Lord hath not only cast down, but hath also laid them under a horrible interdiction and execration : so that the building of them again must needs stand to greater charges to the builders, than the re-edify- ing of Jericho to Hiel the Bethelite, in the days of Ahab. For he had nothing but the interdiction of Joshua, and the curse pronounced by him, to stay him from the building again of J ericho ; but the noblemen and States of this realm, have the reverence of the oath of God, made by themselves, and subscribed with their own hands, in the Confession of Faith, called the King’s Majesty’s, published oftener than once or twice, subscribed by his most excellent Majesty, and by his Highness, the Nobility, Estates, and whole subjects of this realm, to hold them back from setting up the dominion of bishops : because it is of verity, that they subscribed and swore the said Confession, containing, not only the main- tenance of the true doctrine, but also of the discipline pro- fessed within the realm of Scotland. “ Consider also, that this work cannot be set forward, without the great slander of the gospel, defamation of many preachers, and evident hurt and loss of the people’s souls committed to our charge. For the people are brought al- most to the like case, as they were in Syria, Arabia, and Egypt, about the six hundredth year of our Lord, when the people were so shaken and brangled with contrary doctrines ; some affirming, and others denying the opinion of Eutychus, that in the end they lost all assured persuasion of true re- ligion ; and within a short time thereafter, did cast the gates of their hearts open to the peril, to receive that vile and blasphemous doctrine of Mahomet ; even so the people in this land are cast into such admiration, to hear the preachers, who damned so openly this stately pre-eminence of bishops, and then, within a few years after, accept the same dignity, pomp, and superiority, in their own persons, which they be- fore had damned in others, that the people know not what way to incline, and in the end will become so doubtful, in matters of religion and doctrine, that their hearts will be like an open tavern, patent to every guest that chooses to come in. “ We beseech your Honours to ponder this in the balance of a godly and prudent mind, and suffer not the gospel to be slandered by the behaviour of a few preachers, of whom we are bold to affirm, that, if they go forward in this defection, not only abusing and appropriating the name of bishops to themselves, which is common to all the pastors of God’s kirk ; but also taking upon themselves such offices, that carry with them the ordinary charge of governing the civil affairs of the country, neglecting their flocks, and seeking to subordinate their brethren to their jurisdiction ; if any of them, we say, be found to step forward in this cause of defection, they are more worthy as rotten members to be cut off from the body of Christ, than to have superiority and dominion over their brethren within the kirk of God. “ This pre-eminence of bishops is that Dagon which once already fell before the ark of God in this land, and no band of iron shall be able to hold him up again. This is that pat- tern of that altar brought from Damascus, but not showed to Moses in the mountain ; and therefore it shall fare with it as it did with that altar of Damascus ; it came last into the temple, and went first out. Likewise the institution of Christ was anterior to this pre-eminence of bishops, and shall consist and stand within the house of God, when this new fashion of the altar shall go to the door. “ Remember, my lords, that in times past your authority was for Christ and not against him. Ye followed the light of God, and strived not against it ; and, like a child in the mother’s hand, ye said to Christ, Draw us after thee. God forbid that ye should now leave off, and fall away from your former reverence borne to Christ, in presuming to lead him whom the Father hath appointed to be leader of you. And far less to trail the holy ordinances of Christ by the cords of your authority, at the heels of the ordinances of men. u And albeit your Honours have no such intention to do anything which may impair the honour of Christ’s kingdom ; yet remember, that spiritual darkness, flowing from a very small beginning, doth so insinuate and thrust itself into the house of God, as men can hardly discern by what secret means the light was dimmed, and darkness creeping in, got the upper hand ; and in the end, at unawares, all was invol- ved in a misty cloud of horrible apostasy. “ And lest any should think this our admonition out of time, in so far it is statute and ordained already by his ma- jesty, with advice of his estates in parliament, that all min- isters, provided to prelacies, should have vote in parliament ; as likewise, the General Assembly (his . majesty being pres- ent thereat) hath found the same lawful and expedient, we would humbly and earnestly beseech all such to consider, “ First, That the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the office- bearers and laws thereof, neither should nor can suffer any derogation, addition, diminution, or alteration, beside the prescript of his holy word, by any inventions or doings of men, civil or ecclesiastical. And we are able, by the grace of God, and will offer ourselves to prove that this bishopric to be erected, is against the word of God, the ancient fathers, and canons of the kirk, the modern most learned and godly divines, the doctrine and constitution of the kirk of Scotland since the First Reformation of religion within the same country, I the laws of the realm, ratifying the government of the kirk by the general and provincial assemblies, presbyteries, and sessions ; also against the weal and honour of the king’s most I i excellent majesty, the weal and honour of the realm, and i (juietness thereof ; the established estate and weal of the kirk, I j in the doctrine, discipline, and patrimony thereof ; the weal j ! and honour of your lordships, the most ancient estate of this realm ; and finally, against the weal of all, and every one, the good subjects thereof, in soul, body, and substance. “ Next, That the act of parliament, granting vote in par- liament to ministers, is with a special provision, that nothing thereby be derogatory or prejudicial to the present established discipline of the kirk, and jurisdiction thereof, in General and Synodical Assemblies, presbyteries, and sessions. “ Thirdly and lastly , The General Assembly, (his majesty sitting, voting, and consenting therein,) fearing the corruption of that office, hath circumscribed and bounded the same with a number of cautions ; all which, together with such others as shall be concluded upon by the Assembly, were thought expedient to be inserted in the body of the act of parliament, as most necessary and substantial parts of the same. And the said Assembly hath not agreed to give thereunto the name of bishops, for fear of importing the old corruption, pomp, and tyranny of papal bishops, but ordained them to be called commissioners for the kirk to vote in parliament. And it is of verity, that according to these cautions, neither have these men, now called bishops, entered to that office of commissionary to vote in parliament; neither since their ingyring have they behaved themselves therein. And there- fore, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall hold the great court of parliament to judge both the quick and the dead, at his glorious manifestation ; and in name of his kirk in general, so happily and well established within this realm, and whereof the said realm hath reaped the comfortable peace and unity, free from heresy, schism, and dissension, these forty-six years by-past : also in name of our presbyteries, from which we have our commission ; and in our names, office-bearers and pastors within the same, for discharging of our necessary duty, and disburdening of our consciences in particular, we except and protest against the said bishopric, and bishops, and the erection or confirmation, or ratifica- tion thereof, at this present parliament ; most humbly cra- ving that this our protestation may be admitted by your Honours, and registered among tbe statutes and acts of the same, in case (as God forbid) these bishoprics be erected ratified, or confirmed therein.” The foregoing Protestation was subscribed by the following Ministers : — Messrs Andrew Melvill, James Melvill, William Scott, James Ross, John Carmichael, John Gillespie, William Erskine, Colin Campbell, James Muirhead, John Mitchell, John Davidson, John Colden, John Abemethy, James Davidson, Adam Bannatyne, John Row, William Buchanan, John Kennedy, John Ogilvie, John Scrimgeour, John Mal- colm, James Burden, Isaac Blackfodrd, Isaac Strachan, James Row, William Row, Robert Mercer, Edmund Myles, John French. Patrick Simpson, John Dykes, William Young, William Cooper, William Keith, Hugh Duncan, James Mercer, Robert Colvill, William Hogg, Robert Wallace, David Barclay, John Weemes, William Cranston. No. II. The Five Articles of Perth. Our Sovereign Lord with advice and consent of the Estates of parliament, presently convened, ratifieth the Acts of the General Assembly of the Kirk holden at Perth, the 25th day of August the year of God 1618 years, and concluded the 27th of the same month, Session Secu?ida , whereof the tenor followeth : — I. Seeing we are commanded by God himself, that when we come to worship him, we fall down and kneel before thfe Lord our Maker, and considering withal, that there is no part of Divine Worship more heavenly and spiritual, than is the holy receiving of the blessed body and blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ : like as the most humble and reverent gesture of the body, in our meditations, and lifting up of our hearts, best becometh so Divine and sacred an Action. There- fore notwithstanding that our Kirk hath used since the Re- formation of Religion to celebrate the holy communion to the people sitting, by reason of the great abuse of kneeling, used in the Idolatrous Worship of tbe Sacrament of Papists : yet now seeing all memory of by past Superstition is past, in Reverence of God, and due regard of so Divine a Mysterie, and in remembrance of so mystical an Union, we are made partakers of, the Assembly thinketh good, that that blessed Sacrament be celebrated hereafter meekly, and reverently, upon their knees. II. Item , if any good Christian, visited with long sickness, and known to the pastor, by reason of his present infirmity, unable to resort to the Kirk for receiving of the holy Com- munion ; or being sick shall declare to the pastor upon his con- science, that he thinks his sickness to be deadly, and shall earnestly desire to receive the same in his house, the minis- ter shall not deny to him so great a comfort, lawful warning being given to him the night before, and that there be three or four of good Religion and Conversation, free of lawful im- pediments, present with the sick person to communicate with him ; who must also provide a convenient place in his house, and all things necessarie for the Reverent administration there- of, according to the order Prescribed in the Kirk. III. Item , the Minister shall often admonish the people, that they deferre not the Baptizing of infants, any longer than the next Lord’s Day after the child be borne, unless upon a great and reasonable cause, declared to the minister, and by him approved. As also they shall warn them, that without great cause, they procure not their Children to be Baptized at home in their houses. But when great need shall compel them to Baptize in private houses (in which case the minister shall not refuse to do it, upon knowledge of the great need, and being timely required thereto), the baptisme shall be min- istered after the same form, as it should have been in the con- gregation : and the Minister shall the next Lord’s day after any such private Baptism, declare in the Kirk, that the infant was so baptized and therefore ought to be received as one of the true flock of Christ’s fold. IV. Item , forasmuch as one of the most special means for staying the increase of Popery, and settling of true Religion in the hearts of the people, is that a special care be taken of trial of young Children, their education, and how they are catechized ; which in time of the primitive Kirk was most carefully attended, as being most profitable to cause young children, in their tender years, drink in the knowledge of God and his religion ; but is now altogether neglected, in re- spect of the great abuse and errours, which crept into the Popish Kirk, by making thereof a sacrament of Confirmation, j Therefore that all superstitions built thereupon may be re- | scinded, and that the matter itself, being most necessarie for j the education of the youth, may be reduced to the primitive integritie, it is thought good, that the Minister in every Parish [ shall catechize all young children of eight years of age and j see that they have knowledge, and be able to make rehearsal of the Lord’s Prayer, the Belief and ten Commandments, witn answers to the questions of the small Catechism, used in our Kirk ; and that every Bishop in his Visitation shall censure the Minister who shall be found remiss therein ; and the said Bishops shall cause the said children to be presented before them, and bless them with prayer for encrease of their knowledge and continuance of God’s heavenly graces with every one of them. V. As we abhorre the Superstitious Observation of Festi- val days by the Papists, and detest all Licentious and profane abuse thereof, by the common sort of professors ; so we think that the inestimable benefits, received from God by our Lord Jesus Christ's Birth, Passion, Resurrection, Ascension, and sending down of the Holy Ghost, were commendably and Godly remembered at certain peculiar dayes and times, by the whole Kirk of the world, and may be also now. There- fore the Assembly ordaineth, that every Minister shall upon these dayes have the commemoration of the foresaid ines- timable benefits, and make choise of several, and pertinent texts of Scripture, and frame their doctrine and exhortation thereto, and rebuke all superstitious observation, and licen- tious profanation thereof. No. III. Report of Proceedings of the General Assembly at Glasgow, 1638. The following extracts from the Minutes of the General Assembly, held at Glasgow in 1638, will, it is believed, be found a valuable Appendix to the Life of Henderson. Of that Assembly Henderson was Moderator,- (see his Life p. 342,) and conducted the proceedings throughout the whole of that important meeting with admirable tact, coolness, and 1 ' courage. The extraordinary events of which this Assembly was the precursor, and which could not, in all their vastness, have been foreseen even by its leaders, have rendered it me- morable in the history of the Church ; — besides constituting a new era, that of the “ Second Reformation.” While the characteristic speeches of the several members, on the various subjects under discussion, cannot fail to be perused with in- terest, as well from their aim as from their terseness and in- tensity, they must be allowed to convey to the mind of the reader but a faint idea of the stir and excitement which ac- companied the evolution of this solemn chapter in the history of our civil and religious liberties. November , 21, 1638. The first day, the Commissioners from the King and Kirke being conveined, after prayer be Mr John Bell, Moderatour, agried upon till a moderatour was chosen, The King’s Com- mission to the Marqueis was read, next the Commissions from 66 severall presbitries wer given into the Clerkes sone of the former Assembly, together with the Commissions from townes and colledges, and the names of the Commissioners red. Sess. 1. After in calling vpon the name of God, The Kings Com- missioner requyred that the Commissions might be examined before a Moderatour should be chosen, least some men should voit in chooseing a Moderatour, who wer not instructed with a sufficient Commission. To this it was answered by several of the members, “ that a Moderator behoved first to be chosen and several rea- sons were advanced in favour of this mode of proceeding ; to which at last the Commissioner gave way : protesting, how- j ever, that his permission at this stage to proceed to the elec- j tion of a Moderator should in no way import an acknowledg- ment of the voters. There was then given in The Protestation of the Commissioners fra Presbitries , Burghes , and Universities , and of the Complaints against Prelats. We Commissioners of Presbitries, Ministers, and Elders, Commissioners of Burghes, and Universities, in our own name, and in the name of the whole Church of Scotland, i whom we represent, That whereas his Majesties Commis- sioner protested that he gave way to the chooseing of ane Moderatour, without acknowledging of the voits of any of them to be lawfull members of this Assembly ; but that it be lawfull to him or any other to say, at convenient tyme, why they cannot be lawfull members ; We protest that this protestation made be my Lord Com- missioner his Grace, be no wayes prejudiciall to the lawfull commissions produced be Ministers, Elders, and Commis- sioners of burghes and vniversities, quhilk ^hall be allowed unto this Assembly, nor unto the freedome thereof, nor be any ground of quarrelling this Assembly and the proceedings there- of, in any time comeing ; bot, on the contrare, seeing we offer i to heare all objections in a competent Assembly, at the dis- [ cussing of the particular commissions. We protest that this Assembly, now fenced in the name of the Sone of God, be esteemed and reputed a free Generali Assembly in all tyme comeing, and that it shall be lawfull to us to extend this our protestation, and insert the reasons thereof, in any tyme before the dissolving of this Assembly ; whereupon we tooke instruments. Lykeas, We Commissioners of Presbitries, Burghes, and Universities in manner foresaid, That quhereas his Majesties Commissioner, in name of the Archbishops and bishops of this Kingdome, protested that no nominatione or election of Moderatour, no allowance of any pretendit commission in favours of any Members of this Assembly, nothing done or to be done in this Assembly, past or to be past, shall prejudge them in their voit, office, jurisdictione or dignitie belonging to them, be whatsomever law or custome : We Protest against this protestation of his Majesties Commissioner made in favours of the pretendit bishops and their pretendit privi- ledges in this kingdome, untill they and their rights and privi- ledges now complained upon be the most pairt of this King- i 664 APPENDIX. 1 dome in their summonds, as usurpations, contrare to the word of God, Confession of faith, doctrine and discipline of this Kirke, to be tryed and allowed or disallowed in this Assem- bly, and that the determination thereof therein, according to the word of God and Confession of faith, be esteemed and observed, and most just and lawfull ; and we protest in favours of the liberties, priviledges, and discipline of this reformed church, and freedome of this Assembly in all ecclesiasticall matters, conforme to the Confession of faith and Covenant of this Kingdome, renued with the Lord, and for libertie to ex- tend this protestation, and the reasons thereof, before the dissolving of the Assembly ; quhereupon we tooke Instruments. Lykeas, We Noblemen, barrones, Ministers, burgesses, and Commouns, subscribers of the Covenant and persuers in the Commoun Complaints and Summonds against bishops, Pro- test that the Commissioner his Graces nomination of them, the Lords of the Clergie, and protestation in favours of their ! calling, voits, dignitie, priviledges, be no wayes prejudiciall to the Covenant subscryved be us, to the policie of the Kirke, nor to our Summonds and Complaints against these our pre- tendit dignities, titles, and callinges, as contrare to the Con- fession of faith and word of God, nor to the freedome of this Assembly in their trying and discussing of our said Com- plaints ; and we protest for libertie to extend this protesta- | tion; whereupon we take acts and Instruments. Lykeas, We Commissioners for Presbitries, burghes, and Universities, That whereas his Majesties Commissioner having craved ane paper, presented be Doctor Hamilton in name of the Bishops, to be red publictlie, being refuised, did protest and take Instruments, We protest that before ane Assembly was constitut, and the Moderatour chosen, we would heare no supplications, billes, nor protestationes, but after the con- 1 stitutione of the Assembly we should heare the same and give them an answer, and protested that they might be there personallie present for to answer to the Summonds and Com- j plaints against them, with libertie to adde thereupon and tooke Instruments. Lykeas, quhensoever his Majesties Commissioner protested ! against our protestations, both the Commissioners from burghes and universities on the ane pairt, and the persewars and the Complainers on this, have renued their protestation against the Commissioners protestations : We Commissioners from Presbitries, Burghes, and Universities, That quhereas his Majesties Commissioner produced his Majesties Letter to Six Noblemen for to be his Assessours, and accordinglie de- sired that the foresaid assessours should have voit according to his Majesties Letter, and protested upon the present re- fusall of it before the election of a Moderatour, we protested, that seeing his Grace was his Majesties sole Commissioner, that none should have voit but the Commissioners from Presbitries, Burghes, and Universities, for thir reasons, quhilks we are readie to shaw, for thir reasons to the Assembly being constitut after the election of a Moderatour, and protested for libertie to extend their owne protestation, and insert the reasons thereof any tyme before the dissolution of this Assembly : j quhereupon we tooke Instruments, and thereafter gave in the 1 reasons following. Concerning the voiting of his Majesties Assessours in the General Assembly. With that respect which we ought to his Majesties Com- mission, and to the persons and places of the pryme Noble- men and Counsellors, his Grace his Assessoux’s, for the pre- servation of the libertie of the Kirke of Jesus Christ, in this j his Majesties Kingdome of Scotland, we the Commissioners from particular Presbitries, Universities, and burghes, here ! solemnlie assembled, in all humilitie, doe remonstrat that his Majesties Commissioner and Assessours can have but ane voit, in all matters treated and reasoned in the Assembly, for the reasons following : 1. Becaus the Generali Assemblies, in the matter of it, is ane ecclesiasticall meeting of persons ecclesiasticall, Ministers and Elders, representing the whole particular persons and presbitries quhilk collectivelie cannot convenientlie or pos- siblie conveine, and the Christian Magistrat doth not so much multiply voits for himselfe, as by his power, auctoritie, and command, and provyde that every particular Commissioners voit be asked and heard in order and quyetnes, that thereby the judgment of the Assembly, in everie poynt presented to their consideration may be knowne. 2. We have had 39 Assemblies of this Kirke, without the presence of the Kings Majestie or any Commissioner sitting in the Assembly in his Majesties place. 3. It is not to he supposed that his Majesties Commissioner j should have moe voits in his Majesties personall absence, then 1 if he were in sacred persone present, since, jure representa- tionis , they are all but ane, and ought to voit as ane. 4. This might prove contrare to his Majesties graceous in- tention, very prejudiciall to the libertie of the Kirke, there being no determination of the number of voits, for thus his Majesties affirmative voice might be turned in a negative; neither doth this Kirke want experience of this great danger. 5. As assessours sent from particular presbitries for assist- ing, thir Commissioners have no place to voit, so it is to be supposed that these assessours, appointed to attend his Majesties Commissioner, are only to give their advice and assistance unto his Grace in the great affaires of the Assem- bly, that all matters may be orderlie and peaceablie disposed. 6. Although we doe not pry narrowlie into his Majesties Commission, yet since we perceave it is granted to the Mar- 1 queis of Hamiltoun as his Majesties sole Commissioner, we ! cannot admitt that any be equall to his Grace in voiting in 1 the Assembly. 7. As the Ecclesiasticall Moderatour, be the Acts and practise of this Kirke, hath some Members of the Assembly 1 joyned to him to be assessours, who yet thereby have no j further power granted to them than they had before be their Commission, so it is with preses politicus. And whereas, his Majesties Commissioner protested that the bishops who were authorised be Acts of Parliament were called pretendit bishops, the complainei's against bishops pro- tested that such they were and such they should be esteemed and called, conforme to the summonds ; and the commission- 1 ers from presbitries, burghes, and universities, protested, | that they should be so called till the complaints against them ! for the samen should be discussed, with libertie to adde ; 1 whereupon they tooke instruments. The Moderatour for the tyme having declaired that the [ constitution of a Moderatour must be the first act, and goe before the act of examination of the Commissions, he puts j upon the leitts Mr John Ker, Mr John Row, Mr James 1 Bonar, Mr William Livingston, and Mr Alexander Hender- 1 sone : the leitts being approven, and Mr Alexander Hen- j dersone was chosen Moderatour be the voits of all the voits | not ane contrare except his oune. Sess. 2. — November , 22. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour craved that a list might be given for chuseing of a Clerk. The Commissioner asked why a clerk should be elected, seeing there was a clerk there present, and what could be said against him why he should not execut the office in < his fathers lifetyme ? The Moderatour answered — Please your Grace, the clerks sone could not he called the clerk. The Commissioner required that the young man might have libertie to speake for himselfe, who, being permitted to speak, alledgit that his father was provydit to the office by the dimission of Mr Thomas Nicolsone, and hath served in the office after his dimission, and hath keeped the Registers, and hath given out extracts of the Acts and conclusions of the Assembly ; and now being infirme and sicke, and not able to serve at the tyme, has surrogat me his sone in his place. The Moderatour answered — Albeit Mr Thomas Nicolsone had the office and had demitted to his father, yet was not his Father elected by the Assembly ; albeit, he had now possessed the office by the space of 20 yeares, yet I see not how the office can goe by deputation. The young man answered — That beside the office of Mr Thomas Nicolsone, his father had the office by election in anno 1616. The Moderatour answered — That he was not chosen by the voits of a free Assembly ; and whether it was so or not, it matters not now, seeing he was become old, infirm, and sicke, and so unable to attend frequent Assemblies, which now we expect be the mercie of God, and with his Majesties favour and allowance ; yet if there be any question in the matter, I shall ask the voits of the brether ; but in my judgment, Edinburgh being the centure of the Kingdome, quhereunto all subjects have greatest resort, it is expedient, yea necessar and good, that the clerk should reside att Edinburgh. I grant the Clerk received no detriment be his fathers func- tion, becaus his employment was but small. APPENDIX. The Earle of Rothes answered — Albeit his father had un- doubted right to the office, yet the office is not transmissible : ! ; whereupon the young man remitted his interest in the office I ! to the consideration of the Assembly. The Commissioner answered — By what power the young i man could demitt his ffathers right ? ! ; The young man answered — That he did not demitt his ! Fathers office, but onlie submitted his interest in it to the I j Assembly. The Commissioner said — That he did not call in question I the power of the Assembly concerning the election of a Clerk, but he desired to know how Mr Thomas Nicolsone having demitted his right in favours of the young man his father, and how his Father having enjoyed the office to this day, how ane other clerk should be elected, he being yet alive ? My Lord Lowdoun answered — That his father being ab- sent, old, and sicke, could not now supplie the place, and that the Assembly, now conveened, behooved to see to it, and surrogat ane other in his place — a man of skill and judge- ment — seeing he was civiliter mortuus — unable to come hither ; yet I speake not this to prejudge his sones benefice, for the Assembly may consider of it ; but if he hes a power from his father, he may submitt that to the judgement of the Assembly, and the Assembly may choose ane other without doing wrong to the young man. The Commissioner answered — If, by reason of Gods hand on the man, they would yet macke him further to be a sufferer and a loaser, seeing he hath done the pairt of ane honest man, and his gift of office here doeth bear deputation, why will ye not suffer him to depute his sone in his place as others have done before ? For albeit he be old, infirme, and sicke, that may not take away his place, if sicknes be on him by Gods hand, and againe throw time he shall be frustrat of the meanes to mentaine his life in his old age. Lord Lowdoun answered — It is charitablie and justlie pleaded, and I think he should not be prejudgit the meanes of his life in his old age ; but seeing there are here two pre- judices in hand — ane to the Generali Assembly and other personall to the man — the lateis prejudice must yield to the former, and the Assembly must be served, and the man in his age and sicknesse supplied ane other way. As for de- putation ane other in his place, we know he hes no power of it. My Lord Rothes said — That the strength of his fathers right to the office was not from Mr Thomas Nicolsones ad- mission, but of that which the Assembly gave unto him ; and what right the young man craved by deputation, he hath now put it in the hands of the Assembly. The Moderatour asked — If the clerks place was not vacant for the tyme, and if it be not vacant, how shall the Assembly he provydit for a clerk for the tyme ? My Lord Rothes said — The Assembly calls for a clerk, and his father compeirs not ; how is it furnished ? My Lord Lowdoun answered — Let the young man who craves the right adhere to it, and let it be decydit by the Assembly, or els submitted to the Assembly, or els choose your oune Clerk. Whereupon the young man submitted himselfe to the Assembly. The Moderatour craved that a lite might be given in for chooseing of a Clerk, and so a lite of four was given in : Mr Thomas Sandilands, sone to the clerk, Alexander Blair, John Nicoll, and Mr Archbald Johnstone; and it was re- quyred that these men that shall be elected shall be obliged to reside at Edinburgh. The Moderatour asked the Commissioner which of these four his Grace would voit into ? The Commissioner answered — That he knew not any of them, neither would he voit to any of them, hecaus he had not as yet seene a lawfull dimission of the present Clerk. The Moderatour replyed — Then your Grace will be a non liquet. The Commissioner answered — I desire that the voits of the Assessours nominat by his Majestie might be asked in a nomination of a Clerk. The Moderatour said — Seeing your Graces assessours get no voit in chooseing a Moderatour, being a superiour office, it was not fitt to trouble them with asking their voit anent the election of a Clerk, being an inferiour office. The Commissioner craved that the protestation made yesterday might be read over againe the day, anent the Kings power in appointing of assessours; which protestation being red, The Commissioner craved that my Lord Argyle, Tra- 665 ! quair, Southesk, Lauderdaill, might voit according to his Majesties command, given in severall letters ; which Letters | being sein and red, Traquair craved that these assessours appoynted be his Majestie might have voit, as the custome was in King James, of worthie memorie, his tyme ; and declaired, according to his Majesties command, he was readie to assist and give his voit. The Moderatour answered — That it was not want of due respect to their Lordships that moved them to refuise your Lordships voits in this, but onlie to mentaine the Kings libertie — quherfor your Lordship had als good reason to be als zealous as any in the house. Traquair replyed — The imployment of this particular was of such small moment, that except it were in obedience to his Majesties command, he would never claim it. As to the Kirks liberties, that they should be preserved ; yet why should any in the Kirk debarr the Kings Majestie from that libertie which to this day he never wanted in any Assembly ? If the kings Majestie be standing in a particular possession of assessours to treat, reason, and voit, how should his Majes- tie be dispossessed now ? The Moderatour answered — That they should either con- discend to that his Lordship craved, or else satisffie him in reason ; and said, he would not deny hut his Majestie had, in sundrie late Assemblies, moe assessours then his one Com- missioner, and yet there were also many Assemblies that neither King, Commissioner, nor assessours were present : which late Assemblies he wished this present Assembly had no reason to put them to the tryall. Traquair asked — If, hecaus the King is not present now, as he was not present in ane other Assembly, if they would j ; exclude him and these nominat be him to voit in this As- semhly ? Moderatour answered — There was no intention to exclude 1 1 his Majestie, but rather wished his Majestie were present to | be ane eye witnesse to all thir proceedings, and that he hoped j I for great favour from his Majestie if he were present, and that full satisfaction should be given to his Majestie, by Gods grace, to everie thing. Sir Lues Stewart said— Seeing it hath beene in use that his Majestie hath appoynted assessours, Commissioners, and all perteining to the Generali Assembly, why not now also? Lowdoun answered — There were sufficient reasons why it should not be so, and these reasons were put in the hand of the Moderatour to be red. Thir reasons being red, why the King only should have ane voit, Traquair said — Not out of any affection of imployment, but of love to the obedience of so gracious a prince, doe I take upon me to answer these reasons ; neither yet am I of such sharpness, capacitie, and quickness of witt, to make I answer to everie ane of these particular reasons ; yet seeing we are tryed to make answer, we crave ane copie thereof that we may give our answer thereto, and desire that this matter of election of a Clerk may not be put to the voit till our reasons be heard. The Moderatour said — It is good reason to be so, and all of us hes alse good reason to be zealous of the Kings honour, authoritie, and priviledge, as any, yet his lordship had alse good reason to see to the Kirkes weill and libertie — the Mother of us all ; and when we perceave that the Kings Majestie, or any in his name, would urge that which may encroach upon the liberties of the Kirke, they would labour to satisfie them in reason. Traquair said — If I knew any thing would conduce more to the preservation and priviledge of the Kirkes liberties, then that his Majesties wonted authoritie should continue in the former vigour, I would condiscend unto it. The Commissioner said — I render my protestation, made ] in the name of my assessours appoynted be his Majestie. My Lord Rothes said — And we also adhere to the pro- testation made be us. Traquair craved that his assessours might eik to his Graces protestation, which was granted. Then the Voits of the whole Assembly wer craved anent I the election of a Clerk ad vitam , and Mr Archbald Johnston was chosen and admitted unto all the rights, ties, and privi- ledges, perteining to ane Clerk of before, to be extractit at large ; who, after the acknowledgement of the weightiness of the charge, and his insufficiency for it, embraced it as having a calling from God, and the honourable Assembly. 4 p APPENDIX. 666 The Moderatour desired to be informed if any more was requisite for his admission hut a solemne oath of his fidelitie and diligence ? Mr John Row answered — Nothing further, hut that he should bring foorth, keepe, and preserve the Registers of the Church ; at least so many as shall come in his hands, seeing pitifull experience could show how these Registers had been marred in former tymes. Then Mr Archbald gave ane solemne oath of his fidelitie and diligence, and conscious keeping, and use making of all Registers and documents, was taken of his acceptance and admission. The Moderatour said — The Bookes and Acts of all former Assemblies should be produced, and put in Mr Archbalds hands. Mr Thomas Sandilands answered — That he had receaved no Registers from his father, but only two books, conteining some acts from the yeare 1590, till the Assemblie at Aber- dein, holden 1616, which therein is only begunne with the Minuts of the Acts of the said Assembly of Aberdein, in a paper-apairt with the Minuts of St Androwes following 1617, with the acts of the Assembly at Perth, subscribed be Mr James Sandilands, and delivered the samen to the Assembly: And, being posed for the rest of the registers, answered, in his fathers name, that he had gotten these two from the Bishop of St Androwes, and had never receaved any moe, neither from him, nor from the Assembly, nor from any uther. The Moderatour craved that all the Registers might be had and brought foorth from the hand of any Clerk or haver of them, affirming that these bookes had in them matters of greater weight then all uther evidents of land ; for they wer the Kirke of Scotlands Magna Carta, contayning all her priviledges since the Reformation. He wished also that this Assembly should not he deprived of so powerfull a meane of information for proceeding in matters to be handled there. The former Clerks sone affirmed that he had destroyed none of these bookes. The Moderatour urged the production of these bookes, and desired the Commissioner to take course for it. The Commissioner answered — That he was willing to use any good meane that could be used for production of these bookes, if any could show in whose hands they were; for (said he) I desire not that any register should be absent, but, above all, the Kirkes Registers. My Lord Rothes said — That, by a warrant from King James, the bookes wer taken from Mr Thomas Nicolsone and the last Clerk, and put in the hands of the pretendit bishop of St Androwes, and so of neid, force and course must he taken for getting of these bookes from the Bishop. Mr Archbald Johnston said — That, by Gods providence, als many bookes were come in his hands, as should be able to make up a perfite register of the whole affaires of the Kirke, from the Reformation until this day, which Bookes he produced on the table, and declared by whom and what meanes they wer come to his hands — To witt, Mr Robert Winrahame, Depute- clerk under Mr Thomas Nicolsone, and from him to Alexander Blair ; of quhich bookes there are fyve volumes in folio. But Mr Patrick Adamsone, Bishop of St Androwes, rent ane of them, and yet there are four to the foir of them, written he Mr James Richie and Mr Thomas Nicolsone, quhereof the first two containes the acts of Assem- bly from the year 1560 to 1572, subscribed by John Gray, Clerk to the Assembly ; and the third volume, fra 1586, till 1590, written and subscrived in the margine he Mr James Richie, Clerk to the said Assembly — the first Booke being ane great volume of the Acts of the Assembly, fra the year 1560 to 1590, (whereof he had but ane len from ane minis- ter,) whereof, the first four volumes the said Mr Archbald declared he had receaved them from Alexander Blair, wreater, who was servant, and succedit in the place of modifications of Stipends to Mr Robert Winrahame, who had a deputation from Mr Thomas Nicolsone, Clerk to the Generali As- sembly. The Moderatour said — These are good and comfortable newis unto the Church of Scotland— that a perfect Register of the Acts of the Assemblies are yet to the foir, and that it was neidfull that course be taken for tryell of these bookes, whether they be these same bookes written be the Clerks, or be their deputs, or Copies only of these bookes. It was answered be the Clerk, That they are the same, written and subscryved be the Clerkis oune hand, and the leaves riven out of ane of them he the bishop from the 22 to the 27 leafe, may yet be knowen be the marked number of the leafes. The first Clerk, Mr John Gray, who subscribed everie Assembly with his hand. The next is also subscribed ; and ane Memorandum on the first leaf of it, where Mr Archbald Huntar past to the Chancelour Maitland and re- ceavet that Yolume, and this uther, and the halfe of that which was rent by Bishop Adamsone, is marked in the next booke. The third booke, and the first act of it, is the elec- tion of Mr James Richie, Clerk ; which booke is all of ane hand write. The ane booke is from the 60 to the 70 year ; the next from the 7 9 wherein the bishop of St Androwes is censured and excommunicat ; and now, in God’s Providence, there is now in the present Clerks hands a perfyte Register from the 70 year to this last Assembly, for which all of us have reason to praise God. The Commissioner said — See that we build on ane suir foundation, and try weill that these bookes be authenticks. The Moderatour craved that some judicious men, and skilled in dignoscing hand writtes, might be nominat for I tryell of these bookes; and intreatedthe Earles Lawderdaill, Southesk, and Argyle to take inspection of the Bookes ; Argyle objected his youth and unskilfulness for so weightie a charge, yet, at command of the Commissioner, declaired his willingness to assist the work. The Commissioner said, that if his aune paines could contri- bute any thing to the furtherance of the worke, he would be readie to sit up day and night, hut would not lay the burthen on his assessours ; for, he said, seeing it is refuised that they should be Members of the Assembly, he said he saw not how they could be appoynted for trying of these Registers. The Moderatour answered — We are hopefull that their Lordships will not refuse to further the good of this Assem- bly, seeing it is said heir, it is not for want of due respect we owe to their Lordships, but only for preservation of the Kirkes liberties, as said is. The Commissioner said — I cannot see how these that are not granted to be Members of the Assembly, can cognosce I bookes containing matters of so great weight. The Moderatour answered, that they can best judge. The Commissioner said — But I cannot consent unto it. j Therefor The Moderatour said — Let the skilfullest of the Clerks of Session, Counsell, and burrow Clerks, with the Ministers, such as the Laird of Durie, the Clerk of Dundie, Mr Alex- ander Pearsone, with their Assessours to help them of the Ministrie. Mr James Bonar. Mr John Row. Mr J ohn Livingstone. Mr Andrew Ramsay. The Moderatour called upon Mr John Row. Mr John Row answered — That he had yett in his hands I the booke of the Kirke Policie subscribed be Mr James I Richie, Clerk, which will serve to dignosce the hand writt. Mr Archbald Johnston said he had the principall Booke I of Policie, written in lumbard paper, in his hand, which also , would conduce to that end. This being judged to be the fittest way for tryell of the Registers of the Kirk, and makeing them to he authentick, The Moderatour desyred that the Commissioner would proceed to try the Members of the Assembly and the Com- missions, that soe the Assembly might he fullie constitut. The Commissioner answered — That he who yesterday pre- i sentit a written paper from the Lords of the Clergie, desires that his bill or paper might be first read for information giving, anent the Members of the Assembly to be constitut ; and becaus the reading of it yesterday was denyit before a Moderatour was chosen ; now ane Moderatour and Clerk also being chosen, I desire this paper to be read ; seeing the objections which were proponed yesterday are now removed, and that Doctor Robert Hamilton may be called to produce the paper, written in name of the Lords of the Clergie and their adherents ; who being called, compeired and presented his paper to the Commissioner, desiring he would give charge to read it. The Moderatour said — Some parte of the Impediments of j j reading it in publict are removed, but not all ; for the As- ! semhly is not as yet constitut fullie. But, so soone as the , i Assembly is constitut, it shall be read before any other bill or paper quhatsoever. The Commissioner urged still the reading of it before the Members of the Assembly were agried upon and constitut, becaus the paper contained many thinges neidfull to be APPENDIX. 667 knowen before the Members of the Assembly be con- stitut. My Lord Lowdoun answered — That the reasons proponed yesterday for not reading of it, are yet standing in force ; and as it was inexpedient yesterday that it should not be read till a Moderatour was chosen, so it is yet inexpedient till all the Members of the Assemblie be fullie constitut ; for, (said he,) there is no Assembly constitut till the Commissions of the Commissioners to the Assembly be tryed. The Commissioner repiyed — It is a hard cause, that a man cited before the Assembly should not be heard to object against the Members of the Assembly who were to be their judges. Who ever heard that a man accused as guiltie of a fault, was refused to be heard to object against his judge ? My Lord Lowdoun answered — If the objection wer now against the whole. Assembly, it could not be read before the Assembly wer constitut to be judges. But if the objections wer against any particular Member of the Assembly, it were only fitt tyme to object when that mans Commission were in reading. The Moderatour said — Then let us proceed to the tryell of the Commissions, that the Assembly might be constitut, and then it shall be read. The Commissioner said — I am content, so be my Lords of Clergie receave no hurt nor prejudice ; and before yee pro- ceed, I ask documents that nothing be done in tryell of Com- missions, and constituting the said Members of Assembly, to the prejudice of the said Lords of Clergie ; and I desyre that the newlie constitut Clerk may pen ane act for this effect and give out ane extract of it. The Clerk answered — I can neither make nor give out Acts without a warrand from the Assembly ; and the Assem- bly cannot give warrand till it be constitut Then (said the Commissioner) I will take instruments in the hands of the Lord Register, seeing the Clerk of the Assembly refuses to write. The Clerk said — I shall write it quhen the Moderatour gives direction ; yea, I shall write it presentlie, but cannot give ane extract of it till the Assembly be constitut. The Commissioner said— If ye be Clerk to all, why not to me ? Shall I make a Clerk for myselfe ? I did protest be- fore, that niether the Lords of Clergie nor their adherents should be prejudged in their dignities or priviledges, by their refuseing to read their paper, presented by Dr Robert Hamil- toun; which paper containes reasones against election of the Members of Assembly. My Lord Traquair said — It is very hard that these reasons against the election of such and such Members of the Assem- bly should not be heard. The Moderatour said — When the Assembly is fullie con- stitut, then the Member complained of shall be removed. The Commissioner said — I still will protest in name of the Lords of Clergie and their adherents, that they receave no prejudice by your not reading of their paper before the Assembly proceed to the examination of Commissions. My Lord Traquair said — The protestation is upon your re- fusal! to read it. My Lord Lowdoun answered — Their refusall is no longer then till the Assembly be constitut; their reading of it is only deleyed till then. The Commissioner said — But for my securitie I will take instruments of all in my Lord Registers hand, till that pro- mise be performed ; for, albeit I be his Majesties Commis- sioner, yet am I a poor subject, and must answer for my service. The Moderatour said — I will judge reverentlie of your Graces proceedings ; yet I may say there is a too too burning haste in these men for whom your Grace pleads, that they will have their bill read before the Assembly be constitut. The Commissioner answered — they have reason to look to themselves, seeing it stands them now on their reputation, dearer to them nor their life ; and, therefore, thinkes it only now fitt tyme to use their best defences : for what weight will their reasons have when their parties are constitut their judges ? If myselfe were to be constitut judge, I would not refuise to heare reasons why I should not be such a mans judge ; therefore, I requeist the Moderatour to state the question, and ask the Assembly what they think of it ? Then the Moderator said — There is a motion made anent the reading of a paper, given in be the pretendit Archbishops and Bishops, and their adherents, for clearing of their mynds who are present, concerning the election of the members of this Assembly, and ye did formerlie refuse it till the Assem- bly was constitut. Now, it is urged againe; and, therefore, I ask, whether it be convenient to read it now, or to delay it to the Assembly be constitut, and the commissions tryed ? My Lord Traquair said — If my Lords of Clergies informa- tion be not read before the voit and judgment of the Assem- bly be given, and before a judicatorie be constitut, it shall be to no purpose thereafter ; therefore, it is only craved that then information may be heard, and no answer shall be craved till the Assembly be fullie constitut. The Moderatour said — An absolute judgment of the As- sembly shall not be given without reservation. My Lord Traquair said — Instruments should be taken be- fore they give out their judgements, that it prejudge not my Lords of Clergie. My Lord Lowdoun answered — Ye cannot crave the judges Sentence in this matter before the judge be constitut. The Commissioner said — We only crave to informe these who should be judges, and that reasons should be heard wherefore they cannot be judges. My Lord Lowdoun repiyed — It is no wayes competent to I this Assemblie to heare that information as a judge, before there be a judge, seeing that information shall be alse valide after the Assembly is constitut as now. My Lord Traquair said — What if it can be showen by good reason, that such ane election of the members of this Assem- bly as ye are about, cannot be ; and if this be, how shall it be tymeous to show it after the election is made ? My Lord Lowdoun answered — The judicatorie being con- stitut, it shall then be judged. The Moderatour said — Whether should our owne or ex- ternall instruments be first heard ? My Lord Traquair answered — When a judicatorie is to be sett, whether is it more propper to except against those who are to be judges, before or efter the judicatorie is established; The Moderatour answered — They shall be heard ; but our- selves must be first heard. My Lord Argyle said — I compare these here conveined to be ane assise nominat, but not yet swome; why may not then we, ane pairtie accused, informe the assise before it be swome? The Moderatour answered — We do verilie perceave great sufficiencie in the Commissioners Grace, who only should speake here unto us ; and if your Lordship have any infor- mation to give in, doe it in a convenient tyme ; and it is not fit your Lordship should speake here as a Commissioner ; and it will be hard to us to make answer to every difficultie that such a number of wittie noblemen can propone. My Lord Lowdoun said — My Lord Argyles instance is verie fitt, if these men who desire their information to be read would come in here as men pannelled before ane assise. My Lord Argyle answered — There is a sort of acknow- ledgment be them of a judicatorie here, when they desire such a information to be read before it. The Moderatour said — They shall be judged in nothing here till they have gotten libertie to speak, and except against any Commissioner here present. The Commissioner said — If this be ane free Generali As- sembly, why may not any propone their doubts ? How can this be refuised to my Lord Argyle and others, they being Peires of the land, which cannot be denyed to Scottismen ? After sundrie speaches uttered be my Lord Argyle, Tra- quair, and answers given thereto be the Sheriff of Teviot- daill and my Lord Lowdoun, anent the comparisone taken from assise, it was concluded that the paper given be Doctor Robert Hamilton, in name of the Lords of Clergie and their adherents, should not be read till the Assembly was fully constitut. Sess. 4 . — November 24, 1638. The fourth day, be reason of the Commissioners delay in j not comeing at his appoi nted houre, the Moderatour desired that matters to be handled might goe one in his Grace his j absence, and a promise that a full narration of thinges handled should be made knowne unto his Grace at his first incomeing, j which the Commissioner refuised, seeing he was bound to give particular accompt to the Kings Majestie of everie thing done, therefore behoved to be ane witness of everie thing that should be done. The Moderatour said — We left at the examination of Commissions, which serves for the constitution of the As- APPENDIX. 868 sembly; and we crave that we may now proceed in the examination of Commissions ; and the Commission given in for the Presbitrie of Dunce, was first read ; next, the Com- mission for the Presbitrie of Chirnside. The Moderatour said — We need not to crave the voits of the Assembly anent every Commission ; but, if none speake against a Commission, after it is read, we will hold silence for a consent and approbation of the Commission. The Commissioner answered — if ye appoynt that silence shall be taken pro confesso that the commission is valide, I protest that my silence be not so exponed, but that I may have libertie to object against any Commission or Commis- sioner, in my owne tyme, becaus for the present, I am not instructed with objections which I have and will make here- after ; and to this protestation, the Moderatour, in name of the Assembly, assented ; and so the Clerk went on to the reading of the Commissions Sess. 5. November 25. After in calling vpon the name of God, The Moderatour said — Now the whole commissions are read ; and of all there are onlie 13 contra vertit ; and we have now reason to praise God, that, be the silence of all that are present, the rest of the Commissions are approven, and that, in God’s singular favour, we have place and power to voit and treat of all matters that shall come before us. As for these contraverted Commissions, it is now tyme we should examine them. The Commissioner said— If ye proceed to examination, I shall adhere to my former protestation of libertie to object against any Commission in my owne tyme. My Lord Rothes answered — It is now fittest tyme. The Commissioner answered — I find not yet my fitt tyme to make any objections, but seeing tyme reserved to me I will choose it. Then the Moderatour said — Let the Commissions which are in question be discussed, and begin at the Presbitrie of Peibles, given, October first, to Mr James Bennet, and Laird of Posso, subscryved be the Clerk. The Commission was read, and a protestation against it, alleadging that that election was not free, for many reasons. My Lord Traquair craved libertie to speake in defence of that Commission ; and The Moderatour required that he should speake of the Minister who gave in the protestation, with a respect due to | a Minister of J esus Christ, till he was declared infamous. I My Lord Traquair answered — That he had no purpose to reckon for the tyme, but would referre the challenge against him to the Presbitrie ; only craved libertie to regrat that so unjustlie he was brought upon the stage, seeing he did attest all the witnesses that were present at the out giving of that Commission, that he did carry himself humblie and modestlie, as became a good Christian, intending nothing but a free and peaceable election ; and that he did not utter any crosse word, or a word smelling of passion or discontent ; and he attested God that the matter was as he said. Then he de- clared that there was a formall process [extract] of that election in the hands of the Clerk of the Presbitrie, which, being produced, would make it cleare how unjustlie he was accused; which process he promised to produce the next day. The Moderatour answered — If the process come from ane honest hand, and be clearlie and formallie deduced, it shall have faith ; and, if the pairtie protester against the Commis- sion can prove the contrare be sufficient witnesse, he also must be heard. My Lord Traquair answered — It is hard to heare witnesses against a eldar, and formal process given in by a famous Clerk in writt. The Moderatour asked at Mr Robert Eliot, (who gave in the protestation,) what he could say ? He answered, That it was a vyld imputation layd to his charge, that he should be ane vnjust accuser of such a nobleman ; but, sayth he, if ! I have done no evil, why am I called a basse, ambitious, j brybbish boddie, in the hearing of this reverend assembly ? j But I passe it, seeing my Lord was called a Carpenter, a j ; wine bibber, and ane enemie to Caesar, and that he had a J divel ; yet I have said nothing as a libeller against my Lord I Traquair, for I was readie to spend my life in his service ; | and I judged that he should have lyked the better of me, that I should nave protested against any thing which seemed to prejudge this Assembly. The Moderatour asked if the protestation made against that election was made in a Clerks hearing before witnesses, and if it was written and marked ? Mr Robert Eliot answered — That he protested openlie, and desired to be so heard, but it was refused. My Lord Traquair answered — The process in the Clerks hand will clear all which is ordained to be produced : and if, after tryell, I be proven not to have been ane intruder of my selfe, or ane indirect dealler, seeing I walked so circumspect- lie, I crave the wrong done to me may be redressed ; for, be- fore God, there is not a circumstance of that which is al- leadged true. The Commissioner answered — If he should continue in his office, he should have the wrong redressed % if not that, he should deale with any to occupy his place. To that end, my Lord Rothes said — If there be wrong on his parte, the censure of it is competent to this Assembly. The Commissioner said — I intend not to derogat any thing from the authoritie of this Assembly, but rather would con- tribut unto it, and preserve it in its oune integritie. But I would not that Royall authoritie should so suffer that ane officer of Estate, being accused unjustlie, and so wronged, should not be repaired according to justice. My Lord Rothes said, that the tryell of this alledged wrong is only competent to this Assembly. The Commissioner answered — I douht not but the Assem- bly will do to my Lord Traquair what is right ; but I speake of the King’s right, and I know the Assembly may only judge in ecclesiastical! matters. My Lord Traquair said — I declyne not the Assembly as judges in this matter; for I am content to subscryve ane blank paper, to be filled up by the Assembly ; yea, I darre remitt the tryell of it to any Member of the Assembly. The next Commission that was examined was from the Colledge of Glasgow as singular, containing four Commis- sioners, when other Colledges hath but ane, according to the act of Assembly. The Principall, Doctor John Strang, craved the production of the Act ; and after that the Act was considered, it was found that Colledges could have no privilidges above a Kirk, and therefore, ane act was sett downe, that ane colledge should have but ane voit in ane Assembly. The 3d Commission from the Colledge of Glasgow was layd by till the Commissioner should find a fitt tyme to ob - ject against it. The 4 from the Presbitrie of Ross. It was objected against it that it was onlie ane parte of the Presbitrie of Irwing, and it was acknowledged to be so of old, but was now disunited by the Bishop of lies, as was alledged ; but becaus it was not clearlie instructed, neither yet had beene in use to send Commissioners to former Assemblies as a presbitrie constitut, It is ordained that the Commissioners now sent shall have no voit in this Assembly ; and becaus of ane large distance of place, and sea betwixt it and Irwing, it was thought fitt that hereafter it shall contribut a presbi- trie of itselfe. The 5 Contraverted Commission from the Presbitrie of Brechin, which after reasoning much too and fro, the tryell of it was referred to a particular committee — Masters Andrew Ramsay, Robert Douglas, David Dalgleesh, John Robertsone, James Bonar, Alexander Somervell, with power to them to take the oathes and deposition of the thrie Ministers Commissioners for clearing the matter, and reporte the diligence to the Assembly. The 6 Commission, from Kincarden presbitrie, was ex- amined ; and being found that the Commissioners were not elected in the ordinal’ Meeting place, nor in the ordinal’ tyme, but only by the Bishop in ane uther place, and ane uther tyme, and without the consent of elders, and without the knowledge of particular Kirks, therefore it was rejected. The 7 Commission, from the Presbitrie of Aberdein, after tryell, was approven, and Mr James Harvie and Doctor Barrons was rejected, as done nather in place nor face of a Presbitrie, without any advertisement to the congregations, and being only subscrived at that tyme by themselves, who wer Commissioners, and by thrie uther Ministers thereafter, in their owne houses. 0. Anent the Commissioner of Garrioch, Mr Andrew Logie, sundrie complaints being given in against him, wer remitted to a Committee — viz., Mr Andrew Cant, Mr James Martine, Mr Thomas Mitchell, and Dr Guild. i APPENDIX. 9. The two Commissions given in from the Chanonrie of Ross. The Laird of Tarbet produced ane Instrument against Mr Thomas M‘Kenyies Commission, and assured the utlier lawfull Commissions were comeing. The said Mr Thomas being rejected, produced a protestation against the Constitu- tion of this Assembly of Ministers and elders. My Lord Rothes asked instruments, and protested that such a Complaint and protestation was given in by the said Mr Thomas. The Commissioner also tooke instruments of the production of it. Mr Andrew Ramsay offered presently to prove from Scripture, antiquitie, consent of utlier reformed Kirkes, standing practices of our aune Kirk, and bookes of Assem- blies, that ruling Elders are lawful and necessar Members of ane Assembly. The Commissioner, acknowledging his owne weaknes for disputeing of that question, promised, in a convenient tyme, to bring foorth some who would dispute against ruleing Elders, as no lawfull Members of ane Assembly. The last question, about the Commission from Orkney was declared null, having no consent of Presbitrie, nor sub- scription of ane Minister, toune, nor colledge. The Moderatour answered — Now the whole Commissions are examined, and found good, except some few. It is now expedient that the sufficiencie of the Kirke Registers be cleared, that they may be declaired authentick. The Commissioner answered — It is a good work ; but I have some scruples not yet removed. Then, said the Moderatour, Let some be appoynted for tryell of the Registers ; for the Assembly being now fullie constitut, after the examination of all contra verted Commis- sions, may give their Commission for tryell of the Registers, and let their testimonie anent the perfection of the bookes be given in the morne. Masters Masters Andrew Ramsay, John Adamsone, John Row, James Bonar, Robert Murray, Alexander Gibsone, younger of Durie, Alexander Wedderburne, Clerk of Dundie, Alexander Pearsone, Advocat ; with such uthers as they please to joyne with themselves. Sess. 6. November 2d. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour said — Let us begin where we left, at the tryell of the record of Assemblies. There was a Committie appoynted yesternight to give in their testimonie anent the authentickness of the Registers. If it please your Grace, let their answer be heard. The Commissioner having assented, The Moderatour called upon these who wer appoynted for the examination of the Registers, to report their testi- monie Which having been done. The Moderatour said — If any man have any thing to op- pose against these bookes, let him now bring it foorth, that ane Act may be made ; for, if no man produce anything, they will be acknowledged be the Assembly to be authentick hereafter. Then the Moderatour, professing his owne insufficiencie for so weightie a charge as was now layd upon him, craved that some assessours might be nominat to joyne with him in a private conference for ordering of matters to be proponed in Assembly. The Commissioner answered, that he would not oppose any laudable custome of former Assemblies ; but let the Clerk and Lord Register mark that my assent be no wayes prejudiciall to my masters right. Mr David Dalgleish said — I have seen Assemblies of old, and such pryme conferences, according to my poore observa- tion, hath wrought great prejudice to the Kirk ; therefore, I would wishe that all were done by a voluntar consent, and by the concurrance of the whole Assembly. Moderatour answered — Please you, the advice of the Privat Conference has done harme to the Assembly, but not the use and institution ; for, of its inowne nature, it is very helpfull. They aught, deed, to keepe themselves within their owne bounds, and doe nothing that may be prejudiciall to the Assembly ; but doe yee think it is possible for a man to propone matters for so great a meeting without asses- sours ? 669 The Assembly declaired, there needed no Act be made for assessours, but that the Moderatour may choose at his owne discretion, some few to assist him in the ordering and pro- position of matters ; whereupon the Moderatour nominat — Mr Hary Pollock, Minister at Edinburgh. Mr John Adamsone, Principall of the Colledge thereof. Mr David Dick, Minister at Irwing. Mr David Dalgleische, Minister at Coupar. . The Earles of Rothes and Montrois. The Lords Lindsay, Lowdoun, and Balmerino. Sir William Douglas of Cavers. The Laird of Keir. The Laird of Haughton. J ames Cochrane, burges of Edinburgh. James Fletcher, Pro vest of Dundie. Mr Robert Barclay, Provest of Irwing. My Lord Lowdoun said — Please your Grace, these assess- ours are only to advise what is to be done first, and what next, for greater expedition and accelerating of buseinesse. The Commissioner said — I have alwayes bene carefull to eschue the speaking of any thing that might impede this great and good worke, and so shall I still be ; yet must I be care- full that my silence be not prejudiciall to my gracious Master and Soveraigne ; and, I hope neither your disposition, nor any here present, intends any wrong be what they say or I doe, to auctoritie. But I have bein told that the overtures ! and proponing of matters do principal] ie belong to his j Majestie, what he thinks fitt to be agitat in the first place, in ! the midle, and in the last place ; therefore I cannot passe by my just protestation, that this prove no wayes prejudiciall to my Masters service, and I receave no imputation by saying | nothing. Whereupon his Grace tooke protestation. The Moderatour said — Your Grace needed not to have protested, seeing the Assembly was content that everie thing | done in the Assembly should be done with his Graces con- I sent. My Lord Rothes protested that the ordering and proponing | of matters pertained only to the Moderatour. The Commissioner said — Indeed I am weill pleased to ! heare that from yow ; but I must be carefull of my Masters J right ; and I hope it shall be seene to future ages that I have j bein ane honest and trustie servant to my good and gracious j Master. The Moderatour desired his Grace to condiscend upon an ! houre for the meeting of the Assessours formerlie nominat, ! and said it was the custome to meit in the Morning before , Sermon. The Commissioner said — I am told that the tyme and | place uses to be appoynted be his Majestie or his Commis- j sioner, who was alwayes present at these privie conferences ; and therefore I protest that I be present at them all. The Moderatour said — We shall be verie glad of your Graces presence and assistance ; for we hope your Grace will be a helpe and not a hinderance unto us. Therefore lett us know the tyme and place which seemes to be most conveni- ent, that the tyme be conforme to the dyet of this Assembly. The Commissioner said — When my leasure can serve, I shall be readie to give attendance. The Moderatour asked the opinion of some of the brethren. Mr Robert Douglas, Mr James Bonar, Mr Andrew Cant, Mr J ohn Bell, said, that the tyme might be appoynted by the Moderatour; but it must be advertit that nothing be determined in these privie conferences, nor any thing pre- judiciall to this free Assembly ; but only that matters be ordered and digested be them, that soe things might be rightlie proponed in the Assembly. The Moderatour said — I was present at these Conferences, at ane Assembly in Aberdein in 1616, and they tooke very much upon them, for all matters were concluded and deter- mined ; that the privie Conferences satt 3 or 4 houres, and the Assembly satt but ane houre, and intimation was only made in the Assembly of their Conclusions, and the Assem- bly was asked if they had any thing to say against it ; but I hope they shall hold themselves within their bounds. The Moderatour said — There uses some to be naimed for receaving of papers and billes that are to be given in, becaus it will not be convenient that the whole Assembly be troubled with everie particular complaint ; therefore let some be nomi- nat for vieuing of the Billes, that hes best skill in matters of this kynd, that they may report to the Assembly, what is pertinent to be handlit here, and what not. The Commissioner said — There is nothing that hes bein ! 670 APPENDIX. the order and custome of Assemblies but I shall heartillie consent unto it. The Assembly appoynted for receiving of Billes, &c., The Moderatour desyred that the rest of the Commissions that were not cleared and appro ven, might now be examined; and first he desyred to hear the report of these that were on the Commission for Brechin. They answered that they were not sufficiently instructed. The next was Commission from Peibles. My Lord Traquair said — For clearing of the sufficiency of this Commission, ye may see the whole process under Mr Patrick Purdies hand, Clerk to the Presbitrie, who is here present. Mr John Bennet said — We, the Commissioners of Peibles, have hitherto been silent ; now we desyre to be heard, and that this reverend A ssembly would take this matter to their | Consultation ; for here is ane whole Elderschip accused by ane man, whereas the Scripture sayes — “Accuse not ane elder but under the testimonie of two or three witnesses and this man, ane of our bowells, of whom we expected better things, hes now brought us on the stage, and spitted on our face, and brought us in suspition, by surmizing speaches, and open challenges ; and this he hath done under pretence of zeale for the freedome of this Assembly, quhilk God for- bid we should prejudge. We are heir, Men, haters of vyce and lovers of veritie, willing to give all our concurrance to everie good worke. The Moderatour said — It is not an accusation, but ane Protestation ; and it will appeare by the determination of the Assembly, whether he hath done wrong or not. My Lord Traquair said — I know certainly they have a Commission most warrantable ; but since now it is contra- dicted, I submit myself to the judgment of the Assembly; and I crave that the whole process may be read to the As- sembly, that it may be knowne on whose parte the fault is ; and if it doe not clearlie disprove what Master Eliot hes said, 1 and make good what I have said for myselfe, or if there be a syllable or circumstance of that quhilk he alledges true, or if ever I have a thought in that kynd, I were not worthie to come amongst Christians, let be to come here ; for it is im- pertinent, if not impudent, for a man to intrude himselfe in such an action as that which is against all conscience and j dignitie. But I propose not now to use any recriminations. Mr Robert Eliot said — My Protestation is not accusation or challenge against any mans persone, but against the in- formality of the election of the Commissioners, least this Assembly should be challenged afterward for admitting such a voice in matters as was not instructed with sufficient Com- ! missions. Alway I am sorry that my Lord Thesaurer J should be offendit. I thought his Lordship should not have 1 been offendit ; for, God is my witnesse, I neither intendit, neither have I given any occasion of offence. My Lord Traquair said — I submitt to the judgement of this honourable company, if this be not rather an accusation nor a protestation, and that in a high streame, challenging me for intruding myselfe in that bussines after so unjust a j way ; but neither this assertion nor myne can take away ane ! judiciall act. I hope both our partes shall be cleared be the Proces quhich must have faith, except ye will offer to improve the writt, and prove the Clerk to be false. The Moderatour said — It is possible he may give some in- formation for himselfe, which will not contradict but may i subsist with the proces. Then the proces was given to the Clerk and read. Traquair said — I doe not say but my judgement may differ from Mr Eliots or any other mans ; but if thare hes been any illegall way usit by me, I am readie to answer ac- cording to law and reason ; but if his judgement doeth not goe alongst with me, I hope this will be no reason to condemn myne for it ; and when this honourable meeting hes consider- ed this proces, if they be not satisfied, I will submitt myselfe to their judgement. Moderatour said — That Mr Eliot had nothing to say against the proces ; quherupon the Thesaurer tooke In- struments, that Mr Eliot acquiesced to the trueth of the proces. My Lord Yester requyred that these who were present might be asked concerning that quhilk Mr Robert had alleadged ; for he sayes nothing coutrare to the proces, but something more nor is in the proces. And he hath given in a protestation only, and not ane accusation : and when I posed him straitlie, what moved him to give in the protesta- tion, he tooke God to witnesse that he did it out of con- science and love to the good of the Cause. Traquair said — My Lord, let me speake as good friends and Christian subjects ane to another. Yester answered — I desire earnestlie it may be so ; but it may be I cannot speake so pleasantlie to your Lordship as I would, be reason of this throng about. Traquair said — I take it to be a clame and accusation against the formalitie of the election ; and what is in the proces, I remitt it to the judgement of the Assembly, and if any thing be called in question which the proces cannot cleare, I shall justifie ane uther way. Sess. 7. — 29 November , 1638. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour said — We left at the testimonie which was given by skilled men who wer appoynted for trying of the Kirk Registers, and their testimonie was read in your hearing ; and we requested all to bring in this day, their objections and scruples concerning these registers : now w T e crave that ane who pleases would object ; for if no man ob- ject, an act or record will be insert in the bookes of the As- sembly, declairing that these bookes are authentick. The Roll being called be the Clerk, the Moderatour asked if the brethren did approve the registers ? Who answered 1 that they did ; and desyres that reasons of the approbation might also be insert in the bookes of the Assembly, and 1 that there was not any protestation made be his Majesties ! Commissioner. They desyred also that the Bishop of St Andrews might be summonded for the production of these bookes which are wanting. The Moderatour said — Ye heard of a declinatour given in be the pretendit Bishops and Archbishops containing many divers crymes and challenges against the Members of this Assembly ; therefore it is desyred that some paper may be read, containing some answers to many pointes of their declina- tour, and not a full answer, such as shall be given in here- after; only this shall serve to give some answer, &c.: which two papers being read be the Clerk, The Commissioner said — I did not expect an answer to the Bishops declinatour and protestations, seeing the declina- tour was only presented to me, wherefore ane answer from the Assembly w T as needless. The Moderatour answered — The inscription of the Declina- tour sayth, “ A Declinatour to be red before the Assembly,” and therefore ane answer must be given be the Assembly. Then the Clerk was desyred to read some answers made to the Prelates and some Ministers objections in their de- clinatour and protestations against ruling elders had any voice in the sentence of excommunication. The Moderatour answered this — The Presbitrie hes it, and they as members of the Presbitrie. Further, he said, these j papers being unperfyte, and not having fully exped all that I is to be answered to be the bishops declinatour and protestation j against Elders, there is the more to be expected ; and in the | meantyme we are obleist to God that the lyke declinatour and objections wer given in be the remonstrances against the Synod of Dort ; so that we neid no uther answer to the bishops objections then these the Synod of Dort made to these remonstrances. Then the Moderatour red the answer out of the booke of the Synod of Dort, and said, this is J udicium Tlicologorum magnae Britannia. The Commissioner answered — Heir is a man by me, who desires to make answer of that which ye have red from the Synod of Dort. Balcanquell asked libertie to speake, seeing he was not a Member of the Assembly; pleading so farre, of the caice of the remonstrances and our bishops was different in two maine respects — therefore the same answer could not serve the bishops declinatour, which was most valide against the re- monstrances : — first, becaus the matter of the remonstrances ' accusations was anent points fundamentall, such as election upon foreseen faith, — universalitie of Christs death, and co- | operation of Gods Grace with our will — resistabilitie of Grace, — the finall apostacie of the saintes : in which pointes, j and uthers of that nature, are all bound, under the paine of damnation, to betake them to the one syde ; and therefore j the remonstrances could not justlie declyne the Church of the 1 1 Low Countries in questions of that nature, though they had | j ! 1 APPENDIX. j before that Synod, cleared themselves to the contrarie ; for if any such exceptions are of force to declyne a Nationall As- sembly, of necessitie they behoved to be referred to the judgement of strangers ; but the questiones in the Church of i Scotland were not anent fundamental poynts of religion, which, by our Confession, are declaired to be eternal and unchangeable, but anent matters of policie and order, which the twenty first article of our Confession shawes to be alter- able. Secondly, he excepted that the Kirke of the Low Countries had not before that Synod, bund themselves by oath and subscriptioun, against the doctrine of the remon- strances, as we in the Kirke of Scotland had done against the bishops, and the causes depending betwixt us and them. The Moderatour said that it was a questione of great diffi- cultie, to decerne what pointes are fundamentall and what not ; and, if this whole Assembly were sett to it, it would take them to the morrow at this tyme. Secondly, That Synod of Dort did not pronounce these points contraverted betwixt them and the remonstrances to be hereticall, but only to be erroneous. Thirdly, Doctor Feild, and uthers, distinguishes errours in two fundamentall poynts about the foundations of these that are more remote, and prater fundamenta. In the first sort, meir ignorance was damnable, but, in the third, obstinacie, as Doctor Feild instances Pauls cloake, what became of it, or whether Onesimus was Pauls Servand now. Now the Moderatour assumed that Dr Balcanquell would not affirme that sinne ignorance of these pointes of Arminianisme was of the selfe damnable. Fourth- lie, Our Church holds, that all the maine poyntes of her dis- cipline ordour, were warrantable by the word of God ; and that, be God’s grace, we are able to prove it to be so ; for the second article of our Confession, declareing Ceremonies to be alterable, it is to be exponed only of the circumstances of the tyme and place. Mr David Dalgleish addit two answers farder : — 1, Antient Counsell had proceedit, and finds themselfes competent j judges, even when matters of inferior degree are questioned, as in the questions of Novatus and Danatus. 2, That the I Bishops wer indytit for poyntes of heresie, such as the Doctor I acknowledged to be fundamentall poynts — to witt, poynts of I Poperie and Arminianisme. Then the Moderatour said — Seeing, in Gods providence, this Contestation is tymeouslie fallen in, it is fitt that this j Assembly should voice, whether they find themselves com- petent judges to the pretendit Bishops, notwithstanding of the Declinatour and Protestation ? The Commissioner said — 1 find in myselfe a great con- travietie — causes of joy, but greater causes of grieff ; causes of ! joy, that I am able, before God and all that heare me, to j make good all the whole o fieri s his Majestie hes made to this | Kingdome, be severall proclamations and declarations, and more also. But I have sorrow that I cannot goe on so as to bring matters in hand to such ane peaceable end as I would ; I therefore, before ye proceid further, I will renew all my protestations, made in name of my Master, and Lords of Clergie, here. I will present unto yow his Majesties gracious pleasure, signed with my owne hand by his warrand. Then the Clerk tooke and red it, and it containes a dis- charging of the Service Booke, Booke of Cannons, High Commission ; ordaines the 5 articles of Perth to be no more urged, and gives libertie to the present Assembly to repre- sent their judgment of these articles to the next ensueing Parliament ; and that no oath be taken of ministers but that which is insert in the Act of Parliament. It promises Gen- erali Assemblies to be indicted als oft as shall be found ex- pedient. It showes that his Majestie is content that the bishops be censured be the Generali Assembly, and that he intends no change of Religion. It hath a command to sub- scryve the Covenant and band made 1580 and repeited 1589. After the reading of it. The Commissioner said — Now, I hope all these to all aspersions, anent change of religion, are declared to be un- just ; so, if any change of religion had bein intendit, this As- sembly had never been granted, nor yet these offers made unto yow. I am entrusted with a full commission for the preservation of religion, punishing of vyce, and to consider of all the just exceptions against the Bishops and Episcopacie, and have power to rectifie all the abuses of that office, so farr as that sort of government may still remaine in the Kirk, as government not contrare to the word of God ; and anent the practice of this and uther churches, I have power to limite it so, that it shall not be able to wrong the church ; and if they wrong it, they shall be punished : yet, my commission is more ample than I will expresse. But, seeing I have not found that respect dew to ane Commissioner, and know what prejudicat opinion these here hes of me present ; and, when I consider what directions were sent from the Tables of Conveiners of Meetings at Edinburgh to presbitries, be noblemen, gentlemen, ministers, and uthers, it gives me just occasion to declair, that I can give no consent to any thing that is heir done ; and to cleare what I have said, I present heir two uther papers, ane sent from the Table at Edinburgh to presbitries, the uther from persons to their friends, and I desyre they may be red. I cannot designe the men who sent these papers ; but sure I am these papers are sent, dis- persed through the kingdome, and that mens proceedings are according to the directions of these papers ; for there is not a Commissioner chosen but Covenauters, or, if any uther be, there is a protestation against him, or else they are chosen becaus none other could be found. I find, also, ane absolut resolution to mentaine the lawfulnes of the election of ley Elders, to voit here, and the election of ministers by ley Elders, and everie thing in this Assembly going on contrare to the practice of all former tymes and positive lawes of this kingdome : Therefore, I can acknowlege nothing to be heir done by the voit of such men. In the mean tyme, I desyre that this declaration of the Kings will, may be insert in the Bookes of the Assembly, as ane testimonie of his Majesties sinceritie in religion, and that he hath no intention of any change in Religion, and is readie to perform all that is here promised, and what further may conduce for the peace of the j land, and especiallie, that Assemblies shall be indicted als oft as the affares of the Church shall requyre. The Moderatour his Speach to the Commissioner his Grace. It weel beseem eth us, his Majesties Subjects, conveened ! in this honorable Assembly, with all thankfullnes, to receave j j so ample a testimonie of his Majesties goodnes, and not to | j disesteeme of the smallest crumbes of comfort that falles unto J : us of his Majesties liberalitie. With our hearts doe we ac- j knowledge before God, and with our mouth doe we desyre to testifie to the world, how farr we think ourselves obleist to our dread Soveraigne ; wishing that the secrete thoughts of our hearts, and the way wherein we have walked this tyme past, wer made manifest. It hath bein the glorie of the re- formed Churches, and we accompt it our glorie after a speciall maner, to give unto Kings and Christian Magistrats, what j belongs unto their places ; and as we know the fifth command I of the law to be a precept of the second table, so doe we ac- j knowledge it to be the first of that kynd ; and that nixt 1 to pietie towards God, we are obleist unto loyaltie and obe- j ; dience to our King. There is nothing due unto Kings and j Princes, in matters ecclesiasticall, which, I trust, by this \ Assembly, shall be denyed unto our King : ffor, beside auc- ! toritie and power in matters civill, to a Christian King be- longeth, inspection over the affaires of the Kirk, et debet invicjilare not only super ecclesiasticis sed super ecclesiastica : He watcheth not only over Kirkmen, but over Kirk matters. Secondly , The vindication of Religion doth also belong unto the King, for whom it is most propper, be his Majestie, to vindicat Religion from contempt and all abuses, he being keiper also of the first table of the law. Thirdlie , The func- i tions, also, are in his Majesties hand, to confirme, be his royall auctoritie, the Constitutions of the Kirke, and to give them the strenth of a law. Fourth , His Majestie also hath the l power of Correction : he both may and aught compell Kirke- men in the performance of their dueties which God requires of them. Fifthly , The Correction, also, must be from the Prince, who hath power from God to coerce and restraine them to his terrour and auctoritie, from what beseemeth not their places and callings. > Sixth, The Christian Magistrat, also, hath power to convocat Assemblies, when they find that the urgent affaires of the Kirk doe call for them : and in Assemblies when they are convened, his power is great, and his power aught to be heard — first, as he is a Christian, having the judgment of discretion in all matters debateable and contraverted ; next, as he is King or Magistrat, he must have the judgment of his eminent place and high vocation, to discerne what concernes the Spirituall weill and Salvation of his Subjects : and, third, as a Magistrat singularlie gifted with more then ordinarlie, gifts of knowledge and auctoritie ; and we heartilie acknowledge that your Grace, as his Majes- ties high Commissioner, and representing his Majesties Royall persone, hes a cheefe place in this reverend and honorable 672 APPENDIX. Assemblie — first, as a good Christian; next, as ye are his Majesties great Commissioner, and third, as ane endued with singular graces, and after a speciall maner, fittest for this employment. Far be it from us to deny any thing that is done to these who are in supreme auctoritie, or to such as are subordinat unto them and delegat be them. When Alex- ander the Great came to Jerusalem, he desyred that an Image might be sett up in the temple, which the Jewis modestlie refuised as inconsistent with the law, which was the law of God, but libertie offered in their power, and more honourable for the King, that they would begin the reckonings of the tymes from his coming to Jerusalem, and would call all the first borne sons be his name. What is Caesars or what is ours, let it be given to Caesar, but let the God by whom Kings reigne, have his owne place and prerogative — be whose grace our King reigneth, and we pray may long and prosper- ously reigne over us. The Commissioner said — Sir, ye have spoken as a good j Christian and duetifull subject. The Moderatour said — Indeed we take this to be a free Assembly indicted be his Majesty, and we trust that all thinges in it shall be so moderat, that the word of God and reason shall seeme to proceed in everie thing, and that we shall not goe forward ane steppe, but as a clear light shall be holden out before us ; and we trust to make it evident to all men that we cannot nor darre not walke in ane uther way, and we are hopefull, that such a righteous King as ours is, needs nothing but to have a clear trueth pointed out before him, and when he sies it, he shall fall in love with it. The Commissioner said — I am hopefull that ye will proceed so as ye are obledged by your oath of alleadgence, and I trust that all his commands shall be found to agrie with Gods commands. J The Moderatour said — It is our heartie wishe it be so; and we rander to his Majestie heartie thankes for this Assembly, and we trust that, be Gods assistance, in nothing shall we pas the bounds of a free Assembly. My Lord Lowdoun eikit and said — As your Grace hath declaired his Majesties graceous pleasure, to the contentment I of all the hearers, in condiscending to many points of the j petitions of his subjects, for the which we heir rander, as the Moderatour hath said, heartie thankes; and we humblie ! desyre ane copy of the Prelats paper, conteining so many | criminations against us, opposing this lawfull constitut As- sembly, that we may consider it and censure it, and there- j after the giving of it, according to the word of God and j Constitution of this Kirke, may cleare ourselves of all the I imputations layd to our charge. i The Commissioner said — It hath a claus in it, as I re- member, bearing registration; therefore ye may get it. My Lord Lowdoun said — But we crave that we may have ! ane copie of it, with your Graces allowance, out of the Clerks hands. The Commissioner said — I will not hinder yow to cleare yourself of any imputation layd to your charge ; but I will not suffer yow to goe on in censureing the prelats as I wishe I might. My Lord Lowdoun said — W e trust that all our proceedings against them shall be found frie of partialitie. j The Moderatour said — As before I asked if the bookes j and Acts were the rule whereby their faults should be cen- j sured, Sir, now I ask if this Assembly finds themselves j competent judges to the Prelats ? The Commissioner answered — If they proceed in the cen- sure of their persones and offices, I must remove myselfe. The Moderatour said — A thousand tymes I wishe the con- trare ; and I intreat your Grace to heare the voites of this Assembly in this matter, seeing it belongs to the Assembly to be judge of their Constitutions. The Commissioner said — I must not wrong myselfe, and much more the great bussinesse I am entrusted with, if I should argue the question with such a learned man as yow i are ; but I thinke it strange, notwithstanding the exceptions, i documents, protestations, and declinatours usit be me in | name of my Master and Lords of the Clergie, that they can take this matter to the consideration of the Assembly. ! Surely it is not the Bishops but the King ye have adoe with. The Moderatour said — I must yet ask if this Assembly finds themselves competent J udges ? The Commissioner said — I Avish that question may be de- ferred this time. The Moderatour said — It is only the fitt tyme to propone this, after the reading of the declinatour ; and I am only a servand to this Assembly, and can doe nothing at myne owne hand. The Commissioner said — I can tax your carriage in no- thing you have done, as a wise and discreit Gentleman ; but I see now that this Assembly hes determined to go on for all that can be said ; therefore I may no longer keepe silence, but oppose myselfe unto it. Rothes said — It seemes that the Commissioners Grace ] hath exceptiounes against this Assembly — for two reasons — first, becaus too many ruleing Elders have voice in it ; to which I answer, there are no more nor are warrandit be the word of God, practice of uther Kirkes, and positive law of this Kirke ; and if that any yet thinke that Elders should not have voice in this Assembly, alse free as any in former tymes, let them cleare it be good reason, for we are yet readie to dispute the matter. The uther exceptioun his Grace seemes to have against this Assembly is, that he thinkes partialitie will be used heir, and that matters are determined by us be- fore hand, as his Grace hath laboured to cleare be his two papers that are red, which are said to come from the Tables j at Edinburgh ; but we deny these papers to be ours ; and I heir I produce the two verie true papers which came from I us, which have no thing in them so absurd as is said to be. The Commissioner said — I excepted not against your ! privat, but against your publict papers. Rothes answered— There came no papers from avs but these two be me produced ; and if any uthers there be, they are only the advice of privat men to their privat friends ; and if any thing be worth the challenging in these papers, let the author of them answer for it. And now we crave and humblie entreat your Grace if there be any exceptiounes against our former proceedings, that they be declared ; for Ave are verie hopefull to justifie all we have done to the full, and that we shall be able to defend all as warrantable : for we never intendit but to proceed according to the word of God and lawes of this Church and Kingdome. The Commissioner said — Your refuiseing to give voit in this Assembly to the Kings Assessours, is enough to prove the contrare, if there were no more. Rothes answered — Their voits is contrare to the Consti- tutions and liberties of this Kirke, and therefore our refuise- ing must not be taken in evil pairt. The Commissioner said — That the Kings Majestie hath bruiked the privilege of having assessours to voit in Assem- bly these 50 yeares past, and why not in this Assembly, | seeing our King hes showen such myldnes and benignes, and hath not uttered any angrie word since I came to this Kingdome ? Rothes replyed — As Ave acknowledge that he hath beene a good and graceous King, so whatsomever is competent to be done to such a King, shall be done by us, to Avitt, at his willing, obedience heartilie prayes and Avishes that he may lang and prosperouslie reigne over us ; and if we doe not so, let not God’s blessing be upon us. But we must so proceed as this free Assembly be not prejudged, nor the liberties of this Kirk impaired, seeing we must make answer to ane higher judge. If the priviledge craved were in matters that were in our power, we Avould soone have yealded ; but seeing they are not, I thinke we should be excused. The Commissioner said — Seeing ye Avill not give to our King what was given be our predecessours, I cannot thinke ye Avill have that obedience ye speake of. Rothes answered — Obey Ave will, in everie thing deAv to his Majestie, be the word of God and lawes of this Kirk, and shall be readie to thrust out of doores all such as will be utherwayes. But if that which is now craved was given I in former tymes, not by a right law but by a corrupt practice, j and matters were caried utherwayes in his Majesties ab- sence then they should when many moe corruptions, as now to be redressed, Avhy not that amongst the rest ? The Commissioner said — It is enough for us to prove that he had Assessours. My Lord Rothes said — Let your Grace say that he had be right, and we shall agrie to it. Moderatour said — Thinkes your Grace of these worthie and Noble Lords that sitt by yoAV, that this is refuised out of any disobedience to our King, or disrespect to these Nobles, but from a respect to God and his Kirke, and these Com- missions may verie weill agrie ? The Commissioner said — No man may thinke but our APPENDIX. 073 graceous King will mentaine the liberties of his Kirk in all heartie and sincere wayes as any of bis predecessours and thinke he nowayes intends to incrotche upon the liberties of I the Kirk at this tyme, but only to defend it from the op- I pression of overruleing Elders : and yet I tax no man — for 1 have no charge to that end ; and if I had, I thinke I have a heart to execute my Masters Command as ane other Man. Hut our King, intending only the maintenance of the puritie of religion in a quyet manner ; and, therefore, I desyre that nothing be put in practice in this Assembly by ley Elders, which hath beene so long out of practice. If these Elders should have beene pleased that this Assembly should have beene constitut, after the late ordinar maner, and than have corned in and claimed their right to sitt and voit here in a fair way, I thinke it would have beene granted ; for what could conduce more to further a Kings end, and strengthen his auctoritie in ane Assembly, than that a number of wyse and learned laymen should have voit in it ? But becaus he intendeth only the preservation of the puritie of religion, he cannot consent that ane Assembly should consist of such a great number of ignorant men, wanting abilitie to judge matters to be haudlit heir, but desyred only that this As- sembly may consist of the Churches owne pure Members, that so she may receave no prejudice heir. Lowdoun said — I perceave the maine objection against the voiting of the Ruleing Elders is yet urged, and their ignorance to judge in matters that are to be liandlit heir; therefore I oner heir to dispute, that the office of a Ruleing Elder is warranted by the Word of God, practise of uther Kirkes, and lawes and practise of our owne Kirk, and re- ferris the decision of the question to the Assembly as the only competent Judge. The question is alreadie dispute heir be Doctor Balcanquell, and it is grantit from the testi- mony of the Synod of Dort, that Elders have voit in matters of faith, and matters of discipline and order ; and where it is objected that these Elders at the Synod of Dort were learned and judicious men, able to dispute and treate of the greatest matters in the Latine tongue, and these heir assem- bled are not such for the greater pairt, I answer, it is not ! alwayes men of the greater place and learning who bring foorth clearest light in matters that concern religion. There are heir a number of Gentlemen and burgesses of the lowest sort, trained up at schooles and colledges, taught all the grounds of religion, and able to decerne trueth when it is pointed forth; therefore — seeing be the lawes and practise of this Kirke, such hath been in use to voit before, and we have offered to dispute the matter yet more — referring the decision of the question to this Assembly, we hope there is enough said for clearing of our power. 'J he Commissioner said — It is hard for me to make an- swer for everie speach of such a number of learned and understanding men. But, as I remember, Doctor Bal- canquell said not that the Elders of the Synod of Dort had voice in matters of faith. My Lord Lowdoun answered — It is true the Doctor made a distinctione of more and les fundamental poynts of faith. But that Synod did determine what was more fundamentall and what was less fundamentall poyntes of faith ; and it is clearlie proven that the Elders had voit in all matters pro- poned their. The Moderatour said to Doctor Balcanquell — Let the question be yet stated and agitat ; for the question now in I hand is not, whether the office of Ruleing Elders be war- I ranted by the word of God — which I thinke none will deny — but the question is, whether the Elders, according to the Acts of Assembly and Customes of this Kirk, hes place to voice heir ? And if ye, or any, will be pleased to conferre or dispute the question, we are ready for it. The Convocation House of England would not be content that any should say, “ Your Church is not weill constitut ;” far les can we lieare it said to us ; therefore we would be glad to heare what ye have to say in this question ; and if the Commissioners Grace would stay, we trust he shall heare this and many uther questiones discussed. My Lord Rothes said — The Commissioner seemes to take speciall notice of that expression which was in the Letters from Edinburgh, called the Tables ; as if the Letters from these Tables did import a judicatorie ; therefore I desyre to cleare it. When great numbers were conveined in Edin- burgh from the sense of evills lying in this Kirk, and wer joyning together in putting up a supplication to the Lords of Counsell, my Lord Thesaurer taxed us for such numerous Convocations, quhilk as the Convocation was out of love to Religion, which seemed to be in hazard, and therefore everie man having onie particular interest, conveened : we answered, that such a Convocation behoved either to be, or Commission- ers in their name ; and your Grace desyred that when ye came to Edinburgh, that the toune might be emptied of such multitudes ; and your Grace ordained that the schyres should convene be their Commissioners : therefore, when the Com- missioners from schyres and presbitries mett, and sett downe, what absurditie is in it, to call them so mett, “ a Table,” see- ing it is not called a Counsell Table, or a Judiciall Table, such as the Prelats called their Tables ? If we called it a j J udiciall Table, let us be hanged for it. A taylors table, sit- ting with his men sewing about it — so called a Table — or a company eating at such a mans table, there is no absurditie I in the speache ; and we did not call ourselves “ The Tables,” but uthers gave it that name. The Commissioner said— I except not much against the i | name of Table; neither have I spoken any thing in passion against it, albeit I be naturallie passionat ; yet I thank God there hes not much passion escaped me heir. I have no caus of passion to heare these Meetings called a Table ; for there is passion enough at my heart, that I find so much power at these Tables, and so little at the Counsell Table — for it is weill knowen, your positive Counsells are more regarded nor the Kings Counsell Table. But I forbeare to speake more. | I could bring foorth many moe just causes and exceptions against your proceedings, but I know they will be to no end; for I feare your prejudged opinion of all that I can say. My Lord Rothes desyred that his Grace would bring foorth any one instance wherein any had failed at that Table. The Commissioner said — Ye know that all the ordour from them hes been readilie obeyed, but little or nothing I from the. Counsell Table. My Lord Rothes said — I know neither direction nor i obedience given in any thing from that Table, but according j to the word of God, and lawes of this Kirk and Kingdome. The Commissioner said — I came not heir to recriminat, j j and therefore I pas it. My Lord Rothes said— Please your Grace to heare the true directions from that Table ; for, in trueth, I never heard : of these given in be your Grace ; and, when ours are read, I j we trust we shall be found to surrogat no auctoritie to our- j selves. The Moderatour said — If any good success come from these j directions, it is to be imputed to God, and not to their auctoritie. My Lord Lowdoun said — I would ask at your Grace, what are these directions from the Counsell Table, which have not gotten readie obedience from us? For I know none but such as could not be obeyed for conscience sake, and that cannot be compted disobedience. The Commissioner said — I know that all my Masters Commands are justifiable, and such as good Christians should obey ; and I thanke God for his righteous and clement 1 1 heart. My Lord Lowdoun said — We think that your Graces labours hes still turned matters to the better, and we pray it I may be so still, till thir matters be at ane end. The Moderatour said — I would ask the voits of the Tables, whether you thinke yourselfes a Nationall Assembly or not ? The Commissioner said — If I could patientlie continow, I should tell my opinien ; but seeing now my loyaltie and I faithful discharge of my Commission is in hand, I must re- I move my persone ; for my estate is not so deare to me as my i reputation and fidelitie to my Master. The Moderatour said — We only crave the renewing of j | your Graces former patience. The Commissioner said — I cannot assist nor consent to 1 1 any thing that is done heir, except ye adhere to that which | j ye have heard red, in the sealed paper ; and still I protest i that nothing done here may inferre his Majesties consent or ! j myne, or yet oblidge any of his good subjects. Rothes said — After many supplications were presented to ; j his Grace, your Grace was imployed for sattelling of matters, J j and we expected a happie conclusion when your Grace pro- i mised to deale for a free Assemblie ; and, if any just excep- I tiones were against the Prelats persone or discharge of their office, it should be referred to the Assembly : And now the | free Assembly is granted, and is fullie constitut. If your | Grace, who is a cheafe Member of it, be protestation and ! 4q II 674 APPENDIX. j deserting of it, labours to make this Assembly most unfree it is more nor we expected. If your Grace hath any just exceptioun against our former proceedings, or doth feare that we shall not proceed in such a just maner as becomes us, we are readie to cleare our selves. In both we shall repell, or give satisfaction, for bygones, or for tyme to come— the law of God, and Constitution of this Kirke, shall be ane rule, as it hath beene hitherto. The Commissioner said — I attest God, I have laboured as a good Christian, loyall subject, and kynd countryman, for the good of this Kirke, laying aside all privat considerations, as I shall answer to God ; and, at my last going to Court, I said to some of my particular friends, that I should doe what in me lay for procureing a free Generali Assembly ; and now a most free Generali Assembly hath beene procured and in- dicted : but things in it are so carried that it is like to be a most unfree Generali Assembly. For the reasons I have alreadie expressed, glad would I be to have it utherwayes, as there is nothing which can be proponed, keeping my self within the bounds of my Commission and fidelitie to my Master, but I shall doe it ; for I desyre to serve God, my King, and my Countrie. But a weightie burden is layd on the back of a sillie young man overcharged with a toilsome bussinesse, and unable to bring it to such ane end as I would. Rothes said — And the present evils, and further incon- venients like to come by your Grace rysing, must be ane ; and we protest that we are free of all : Therefore it must lye upon these unhappie men ; they are the band of all the evils, and their source sends foorth all thir secrete suggestions and privat whisperings against Ruling Elders, is a chiefe cause of this. The Commissioner said — But I heard these men sweare that, for procureing the peace of the Land, they were con- tent to lay downe their offices and livings, and leave this Kingdome. I grant the offer is but small, for the Prince whom they serve can make it up another way. The Moderatour said — I wische these men were more wise then to make themselves more odious to the land, by mov- ing your Grace to leave this Assembly ; for it is evidentlie seene by all, that they are the cause of your Grace rysing. The Commissioner said — I grant the cause is be urging in of a declinatour and a protestation against lay Elders ; but, truelie, they are free of this my declaration, now red in your hearing, which I desire to be insert in the bookes of the As- sembly. The Sheriff of Teviotdaile said — The paper your Grace craves to be insert, is full of grace and goodness, and the registration of that, proves the bookes to be an allowed Register, and the Assembly to be lawfull; and if your Grace hath protested against the auctoritie of these bookes, and law- fulness of this Assembly, and will leave it as unlawfull, how disassenting are these ? The Commissioner replyed — Whenever I have assented, it shall stand good. The Moderatour answered — Your Graces direction to registrat these papers in this, is ane acknowledgement that these bookes are good. Mr David Dalgleishe said — I perceave, by your Graces speach and the Bishops paper, that they desyre to be cleared of these foule aspersions and imputations given in lybell against them. If, then, your Grace shall leave this Assem- bly, it is evident that they have the wyte of it, and have no will to be cleared, but would have all their challenges and imputations lye undiscussed. The Commissioner answered — I am sure the Bishops de- syres nothing more then to have a lawfull hearing before a judge free of partialitie ; but no man will submitt himself to a judge whom he thinks his partie, as they think this Assem- bly to be. Mr David Dalgleishe said — If I were in their case, and judged myselfe free of such imputations, I would submitt mysolfe to the meanest subject of this kingdome, let be to such an honourable Assembly. My Lord Lowdoun eikit — If they would declyne the judgment of ane nationall Assembly, I know not ane com- petent judgment seat for them but the King of Heaven ; and, as for us, we sweare we have no personall prejudice at them : but in sua far as they have wranged the Church, the King, and Countrie, we desire they may be censured for it. The Commissioner said — I stand to the Kings prerogative as Supreme Judge over all causes, civill and ecclesiasticall, to [ whom I think they may appeale, and not let the causes be j reasoned heir. My Lord Argyle desired the Assembly to heare him a little 1 before his Grace should departe, and said — I was called to this j Assembly by his Majestys command ; but now, being come, 1 I desyre to cleare myselfe, that my pairt hes hein fair in every thing that I know, neither as flatterer of the Kings Grace, nor for my own ends. I have not striven to blow the bellowes ; but studied to keepe matters in als soft a temper as I could : and now I desyre to make it knowne to you, that I take you all for members of a lawfull Assembly, and honest countriemen. As this Assembly consists of members civill and ecclesiastic, I wishe that care may be had that this bodie may byde together, as ye all band yourselves by the late subscryved Confession of Faith ; but I desyre that nothing be done in this Assembly to the wronging of that Con- fession subscryved by us of his Majesties Counsell, as if I had subscryved it with a mynd different from that which all had j at the first making and subscryving of that Confession. My Lord Lowdoun answered — Your Lordships protesta- | tion is very reasonable, seeing it is very scandalous that ane Confession should be subscryved be the Lords of his Majes- ties Counsell and Session, and ane uther be the bodie of the countrie, as if they were two different Confessions of Faith among the professours of ane religione in ane kingdome ; therefore, it is earnestlie desyred of all, that the Confession of Faith be cleared, and a full explanation of all the heads and articles of it, that all may heartilie joyne in ane Religion, and duetifull obedience to our King, and that no slander goe abroad to uther nations. The Commissioner said — What is done by warrand of auctoritie shall be cleared by the lawes of this Kirk and King- dome, and wayes also shall be found to cleare his Majesties intention and will. My Lord Lowdoun replyed — We are nothing diffident of that, neither is any thing of that sort said by us to prescryve your Grace ; but seeing two Confessions are subscryved of divers constructions, as humble supplicants we desyre that the Confession may be cleared, that all his Majesties subjects | may be joyntlie tyed to God and the King. The Commissioner said — I had warrand to give order for that and much more, but alace ! I may not now stay. My Lord Rothes said — It is pittifull that the Confession | should not be cleared, seeing it is subscryved with three severall Constructions, and in Aberdein by some after a 1 Popishe maner, admitting all the ordinances of the Kirk in- troduced or to be introduced, and this is the Papists impli- cite faith ; by uther with that Construction only which it had when it was first subscryved anno 1580 ; and a third sort : with a mere abjuration of all novations introduced since that tyme : therefore it is necessar that the Confession be cleared in the Assembly. The Commissioner said — I cannot stay now. My Lord Rothes said — Because your Graces departure was surmized this morning, therefore it was found necessar by this Assembly that a protestation should be made against | your Grace. But we are most unwilling for to present it, ! and would rather intreat your Grace to propone your scruple ' and exceptions against this Assemblie, that they may be cleared. If your Grace will not, but will depairt, we must protest that your Grace hes depairted without a just reason. The Commissioner said — I make a declaration that no- thing done heir in this Assembly shall be of any force to bind any of his Majesties subjects ; and I in his Majesties name discharge this Court to sit any longer. The Commissioner leaves the Assembly . And while the Commissioner was in depairting, the pro- testation against his depairture was put in the Clerks hand and red, and Instruments tane of the protestation. The Moderatour said — All that are heir knowes the reasons of the meiting of this Assembly; and albeit we have acknow- ledged the power of Christian Kings for conveining of As- ; semblies and their power in Assemblies, yet that may not ' derogat from Christs right ; for he hath given divine warrants i to convocat Assemblies whether Magistrats consent or not: i therefore, seeing we perceave men to be so zealous of their Masters commands, have we not also good reason to be zealous 1 toward our Lord, and to mentaine the liberties and privi- I ledges of His Kingdome? Ye all know that the work in hand hes had many difficulties, and God hes borne us through them all to this day ; therefore, it becometh us not to be dis- ; APPENDIX. 675 couradged now by any thing that hes intervened, but rather to double our courage when we seeme to be deprived of hu- mane auctoritie. He desyred some of the brethren should speake a word of encouragement and directioun to the Assem- bly, as God shall put in their heart for the tyme. Mr David Dick said — Ye all understand that the great worke now in hand hes bein from small beginnings ; for at the first, we intendit only to exoner ourselves, and to leave a testimonie to the posteritie that we bure witnesse to Christs opprest cause. We thought the Cause desperat when we were chargit to buy the Service Bookes under the paine of horning; yet we gave in supplications to the Counsell, de- syring us to be heard against such indirect proceedings. When we knew not what to doe nixt, God hes led us on steppe by steppe, keeping us still within the compasse of his word and lawes of this Kingdome, for any thing that we ken ; and we have only followed our caus with humble sup- plications to our King, and protestations against that which we could not obey : and it is evident that God hes accepted our testimonie — for his hands are about us still — for if he had not directed us, and his hand had not guyded us, we had beene long since confounded in our witts, and could have done nothing for the compassing of this great worke, more nor young children ; neither could we have continowed in ane mynd till this day, if ane spirit had not told us. Seeing the Lord hes led us in a safe way to this day, he is now to crave a solemne testimonie of the Kirk of Scotland, and to ask of everie Man, who is his God ? And we have clearlie presented unto us, a lesson of our fidelitie to our Lord from my Lord Commissioner. He hath stood punctuallie to the least point of his Commission. It becomes us to be als loyall to our God, seeing we are not restricted to particulars as he : Therefore, seeing this Court is granted to us of God, under our King, and with allowance of our King, and a parliament indicted to warrand all the Conclusions of it ; and now he hes drawen back his granted warrand, shall we for this be disloyall to our God, and slyde from that which He hath granted? If we goe not, we shall prove tratours both to God and our King ; or if we be silent, and passe from this Assembly, how shall the will of God be demonstrat to our King in pointes controverted ? There is not a meane to in- forme our King fullie and clearlie, but the determinations of this Assemblie: Therefore we must now proceed, and so proceed as all our proceedings must answer for themselves, and, it may be seine, we have proceedit as good subjects to God and our King. W e must either goe on, or take upon us all the imputations of scandalous and turbulent persones, and grant that there has been als many wranges as there had been false imputations layd out against us ; and this were to sin more deeplie, and to quyte these glorious priviledges which Christ hath granted to us, above all our Sister Churches, see- ing there is not a meane to cleare ourselves to the Christian world but this. Let us goe on, putting over the matter upon our Lord and Master, and he shall answer for us at the Court of Heaven, and justifie us in the eyes of all that are wise. Mr Harry Rollock was called next, who uttered a speech to the effect foresaid. Mr Androw Cant, and some uther of the brethren, spack likewise to the same purpose. In the meane tyme came in My Lord Erskme, before the Assemblie, and, with teares, did regrait his so long refusall to subscryve the covenant, and was now most willing, with heart and hand to subscryve it, if the Assemblie would be pleased to accept of him : the seeing and hearing whereof caused no small matter of joy to the whole Assembly ; acknowledging, with admiration, the wonderfull Providence of God — that some had deserted and gone from them, so uthers were sent unto them . To encourage them there were also, at that tyme, four or five uthers, some whereof had been in uther countries, in tyme past, who all did enter in ane Covenant with joy to themselfes and the whole Assembly. After which, the voites of all the Assem- bly were craved by the Moderatour — Whether they would adhere unto their Protestation newlie red, or continow to the end of the Assembly now discharged ? All and everie ane of the Assemblie except six or seven, declaired solemnlie, that, with all their heart, they adhered unto their Protestation, and promised to continow till this Assembly, after the settling of all matters, be dissolved be commoun consent of the Members. The Moderatour, having renewed the question againe, Whether they found themselves lawful! and competent Judges to the pretendit Bishops and Archbishops of this Kingdome, and the Complaints given in against them and their adherents, notwithstanding of their declinatour and protestation ? The whole Assemblie, except four, declared this Assemblie to be most lawfull and competent Judges to the pretendit Bishops and Archbishops of this Kingdome. The Moderatour having called upon the name of God, this Session dismissed. Sess. 8 . — November 29, 1638. Moderatour — I must intreat yow, honourable and welbe- j loved, to consider yow are in the sight of God, who not only requires inward reverence, but also outward respect ; becaus these who hath beene our old adversaries, and hath now de- claired themselves to be so, hath spoken reproachfullie against this Generali Assembly, especially becaus of the tumultuous carriage of the Members thereof, when they speake concerning the suffrages — the voits of the Members of the Assembly. But that no such occasion may be given to them heirafter, let your carriage be grave as in the sight of God. Keep yourselfes quyet ; becaus ye ought to have your judgements exercised about the matter in hand, and elevating your mynds to God to send downe light ; and, when he sends downe a good motion, ye may expresse it with gravitie, and that two or thrie speake with leive — not that I assume any thing to my selfe, but I am bold to direct yow in that, wherein I have the consent of your owne mynd. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour uttered these words : — The Assemblie is not fullie constitut — not that I call the lawfullness of it in question, for the authoritie of it is manifest — but let us leave nothing undone that is necessar for the constitution thereof. There are some Commissions controverted, quhilks are not yet discussed; therefore let the Committies delyver their papers, and tell their judgements. After some remarks by several of the Members regarding the disputed Commissions, the Moderatour said — In the declina- tour and protestations given in by the Prelats, there were some exceptions tane against some worthie men who came out of the Kirk of Ireland, admitted Ministers in Scotland, and now chosen Commissioners to this Assembly ; therefore it is good the Assembly had all their mynds cleare concerning them : and after that we will not have much adoe with Mr Robert Blair, Mr John Livingstoun, Mr James Hamiltoun; for Mr Alexander Turnbull he is under censure. Mr Robert Blair said — We have our reasons to give in against the unjust proceeding of the Prelats against us in Ireland, proving their Censure to be null. If the Assembly thinke it expedient, we shall read them. Moderatour said — Doe ye remember the words of the De- clinatour concerning yourselfe ? Mr James Hamiltoun said — These are the words : “also some Ministers under the Censure of the Kirk in Ireland.” Then the Reasons were given to the Clerk and publictlie red. Moderatour said — Take head to these Reasons that ye may object and propone in any thing wherin ye get no satisfaction. Mr Robert Blair said — There were some that were under censure, and we were never chargit ; only we heard about a year after we came away they were seeking us. Mr David Dick said — Moderatour, I will tell some thing j to cleare that, becaus I am their neighbour. Now, I heard that when they wer under proces, the bishops had respect to their not comeing back againe, or if they came, it might scarr people from hearing of them. Moderatour said — I believe our Church is independent, and depends not on the Church of Ireland. Mr Blair said — And there is not ane in this Assembly I that adheres to the Confession and Covenant of the Kirk of | Scotland, but the Prelats, both heir and there, judges them j all worthie of the deepest censure that their pretendit power can inflict. It had bein small matter that some four or five j of ws been carceired, were not thereby the publict caus had been woundit; for the same prelats are alreadie to charge this whole Assemblie with the same, wherewith they charge us ; therefore, if there be any heir who have any thing to say, j let them do it publictlie in the face of this Assemblie. If the declarations be not cleare, the Assembly may get full as- surance of this. The Moderatour said — Ye have not a mynd to bring this Assembly to a snair ; but if there fall out any thing to be written against the Assembly, ye will cleare the same by writt. 676 APPENDIX. Mr Blair said — We promise so to doe, and for our owne parte, we thinke all that speakes in ane Assemblie, should speak e in the sight of God. Shirreff of Teviotdaill said — I thought to have gotten far- der satisfaction and some information concerning your de- parture out of this Kingdome, at first removed. Moderatour said — W eill remembred ; for there is some- thing of that in the Proclamation, saying these who made Sermons against Monarchicall Government are Members of this Assembly. Mr Blair said — I thank God that, by occasion of this and that which the worschipfull Shirreff have said, my declaration of this point is occasioned, all which of my owne accord I would gladly have motioned, were not I feared the imputation of takeing up too much tyme in this Honorable Assembly. I first take God to witness, that all the afflictions that hath befallen me from my youth, at my hand, hath beene, for aught I know, for constant adhereing to the Confession of Faith of the Kirk of Scotland, since the day that Perthes A cts were determined, where I was present, and the Lord fur- nished me with resolutions to stand to the trueth, which there I perceaved to be oppressed. And I am sorie that this declaration, if I be particular in it, will force me to ex- presse the names of some whom rather I would desyre to sparr. It is weill knawne, while I was a Master of the Col- ledge of Glasgow, there came a learned Countryman of myne, that had been in forraigne pairts, and promised to re- duce the Colledge to conformitie to Perthes Articles ; and finding me somewhat resolute to stand out, it made some little grudge in that learned mans mynd. There was addit to this J ane uther in a publict theologicall dispute. It fell out that ! a poynt of Arminianisme in the poynt of election, where foirsein faith was mentained by that learned mans schollers, ! who came out of France with him, I being the opponent. I What I say can be justified by a Commissioner within this I house, who will be loath to utter it unles he be put to his oath, in respect of the respect that he beares to that learned I man. This being the Controversie, standing out against the corrupt course of' conformitie, and that in a dispute I taxed that Arminian poynt in my notes upon Aristotles Ethicks and Politicks. Heirupon I, not being called to any publict, civil, or ecclesiasticall Judicatorie ; but in ane accademicall or schoele meeting I was called there, and examined upon some dictats in Aristotles Ethicks, where I stood before all S the Universitie, offering dispute upon all that I had taught, and for three houres dyted aff hand answers to the questions that were made, subscryved them with my hand, and offered that they should be transmitted to the Kings Majestie of blessed memorie. This being done, Mr Robert Wilkie, Rector of the Colledge, being a hearer, stood up and said, “Would to God King James himselfe were present to hear the declaration that this man hes made Lykewayes, Mr Robert tooke me in his armes and thanked God that I had so far cleared myselfe. Perceaving what undermyning powers were against me and the course of the tyme, I resolved to have resigned my place, whereto I was bound seven yeares : wherupon Mr Cameron, that learned man — a learned man indeed, whose name I wished altogether to have spaired — perceaving he was lyke to have lost his thanks for labouring to reduce me to conformitie, dealt with me in privat, and in- adgit himselfe that I should ryse to preferments if I would e drawen to conformitie, and that it was ane happie occa- sion to give up my name to the King, having declaired my- selfe to their satisfaction. Ane uther poynt — the Archbishop of Glasgow was drawen on this course to examine the poynt; but perceaving how he had bein led, and that malice had caried on the course, he delyvered my papers wherein I had given my answers, and would not take them back againe, and told to a worthie man, Mr James Robertson, that he perceaved the ground of all the matter was meere malice against me, and withall sent for me and requeasts me not to leave the Countrey, for I should sliortlie be provydit for : And after I had gone to Ireland, he declared to my brother- German, Mr William Blair — a grave and judicious man, j knawen be the most parte of the Assembly — that he was re- | solved to plant me in the Kirk of Air, where God by his providence hes now brought me. This was written to me | the first moneth I was in Ireland — and moreover, there was j ane Letter written be the Archbishop of Glasgow to King I James; and before he wrote it he send for me and said, “I I fear there be some that not only carries evill will at yow ‘ but me in this matter, and least we should be both wranged, I will write ane Letter to his Majestie for our exoneration;” and thene he wrote ane letter, and there was an answer re- turned to me by my Lord Alexander, Earle of Stirling3 sone, resolving me that the King was more nor satisfied ; so there was no cryme layd against me, but that I proponed some question out of Aristotles Ethicks ; swa there was never any judiciall proces, let be ane sentence against me : only there was ane academick meeting, and becaus I wearied of philosophic and demitted my place. The Moderatour said — Then it is unjustlie said by some, that being censured, yow are put out of the Colledge. Then Mr George Young and Mr Robert Baillie and Mr Zacharie Boyd declared that he had related the matter truelie. Mr John Adamsone said — There is ane generall accusation against them as is against the whole Assembly ; and so they are but scandalls. Moderatour — They scandall us for having laick Elders, and we shall make it manifest be the word of God, that we should have them. Then the Moderatour called on sundrie members of the Assemblie — Mr Robert Wilkie, Mr James Bruce, Mr Androw Ramsay; Nobles — Johnstoun, Lowdoun, Cranstoun, who answered they were all satisfied. The Moderatour said — Altho’ the prelats accusation be generall, yet for stopping of the mouth of malicious persons, we will stryve to answer any particular that we can perceave they ayme. Ye remember that there are some generall thinges in the declinatour concerning some ministers under censure and not, were stryving to find out who they could meane, bethought they be not named; and we find that there were some under the censure of the High Commission : Mr David yow are one. Mr David Dick said — I was admitted Minister of Irwing before Perth Assembly six months ; and having understood that Perth Articles were given out, I fell to and studied the cause as I should answer to God ; and being under sickness for the tyme, I held me quyet the space of two yeares and heard all men and carried not myselfe hither and yond : and last, when I saw it lyke my life should not have been long, I saw it necessar to give my testimonie to that trueth that I thought was borne downe. The Bishop got notice that I spake frielie, and yet in such modest termes as they would not have gotten me in the calk ; for within three or four yeares after my entrie, was summondit before the High Commission. I compeired; and because it was the first day of the Bishops their new roofe — having gotten the greene wax from Court — that is, that day they were made sole bishops as they were not before — I tooke course, after the incalling of the name of God, to doe as became a faithfull member of the Church of Scotland, to mell with what be- longed to my calling, I drew to a declinatour of that Judica- torie, because I was inhibited be act of Parliament. When I red my summonds, I looked wher they should have said, “ James, be the Grace of God, King of Great Biitaine,” and I found that they said, “ James, be the mercie of God,” &c., “ and John, be the mercie of God, Bishop of Glasgow,” which I made a reason of my declinatour, and offered to be judged by the first General Assembly ; and this declinatour they turned to be my quarrell : which day I was appointed to waird ; and least I should be mistane, albeit I acknow- ledgit not their sentence, I removed from Irwing, in regard to the Kings auctoritie. to Tunny, where I was three quar- ters of a year. After, I was, by the diligence of my Lord Eglintoun and the toune of Irwing, by my knowledge, brought to Glasgow, where Cameron tooke in hand to con- vert me or to put my heid in the perrill ; and after I had talked with the Bishop, I obtained this honour that he should not make conformitie the matter of my challenge, but wherein I had done wrang to auctoritie I would cleare it. And my Lord Eglintoun, Mr John Bell, and Mr Robert Scott, who is now dead, was present when I cleared myselfe, to have done no wrang to auctoritie by my declinatour. After this the Bishop of Glasgow gave ane warrand to my Lord Eglin- toun, under his hand write, to send for me to keip for my exoneration. I took Instruments of my hand, comeing to Irwing : heir the act and the letter of the Bishop, which I desyre the Clerk to read. The Moderatour said — I hope the brethren hes gotten satisfaction. The Moderatour called on Mr Samuel Rutlierfuird and j said to him — Were you not sent to Aberdeine by the High i Commission? APPENDIX. 677 Mr Samuel sayes — Most true. I was sent in and sum- monded be the High Commission for divers pointes the Bishop of Galloway lybelled against me, and there was no- I thing at all proven against me, notwithstanding three severall dayes I was before them; and the third day they had no uther question to propone but these wherewith they attempted me the first two dayes — only the matter of none conformitie which I stand by ; and upon this they sentenced me, after I declared, by write, the unlawfulness of that seat, and that I durst not be answerable to the King to acknowledge that Judicatorie, becaus it was against the standing law of the Kingdome. Notwithstanding of this, they proceedit against me, deprived me of my ministrie in Anweth, and confined me in Aberdeine. I watched on in Edinburgh, desyring the Clerk to give me ane extract of the sentence, but could not get it, and the reason why he schiftit me was, becaus the Bishop of Galloway caused him adde a pointe to my sentence that I was not sentenced for — to witt, that I should exercise no ministeriall functione within the Kings dominions. The Clerk denyed it was a pointe of my sentence; notwithstand- ing, the Bishop of Galloway caused adde that pointe, and I could never have the extract of it, onlie I got the Copie of it, and so I went in without a charge ; and, heareing that the Secrete Counsell had accepted a declinatour against the High Commission, I came out without a charge. Clerk says — By Act of Parliament, all the Kings leidges are discharged to give obedience to any judicatorie, but that which is established by Act of Parliament and lawes of the Kingdome ; therefore ye ought to be condignlie censured for entering into waird. The Moderatour said — Earlstoun, yow have beine lyke- wayes under their Censure ; who answered — I was confined in Wigtoun under the High Commission, where I gave ane appellation to the Counsel! which Lome can declair. Argyle said — Indeed I remember weill of the Decreit past against Earlstoun when I was in England, and, when I came home, it was the day before Earlstoun was appointed to goe to waird. I desyred earnestlie that he might not be confyned but fyned ; and so the pretendit Bishops did, which is not overseene in their dittay. There was a decreit given out from the High Commission upon no warrand but his none compeirance, as if he had bein present in foro contentissimo. The Bishops went on as if he had compeired, and decreitit all that was libellit, as if it had been proven; and the Bishop eikit, at his owne hand, “ becaus Earlstoun presumed to rotest.” Upon this I found it was a litle informall, and esyred Earlstoun to forme ane bill and give in to the Coun- sell. When the bill was given in, I dealt with the Bishop of Galloway, to see if he would keep it from a publict hear- ing, and he was satisfied, but afterwards he was not so will- ing. 1 insisted and solicitat the Counsell that they should be content to dispense with the confynement, upon the pay- ment of his fyne, which they were content with. Moderatour said — I beleive verilie that these to whose eares the voice of the speakers hes come, be satisfied with that which hath bein said. If any be not yet satisfied, or hes any point or circumstance to show that they have heard objected against thir worthie Men, let them bring foorth. — Since there is nothing to say, let us goe on. Although we doe not match cr equal! the Confession of Faith of any reformed Kirk with the word of God ; altho’ we doe not make it formam Jidei sed formam confessionis ; yet we have great reason to think reverentlie of our owne Confession ; becaus uthers, who have bein Strangers, give a great testimonie to it. That it may be the better thought of, it is expedient that we have a cleare understanding of the particular articles therein contained, especeallie these that are controverted. Ye know what a bussines hes bein about the subscriptions of the Confession of Faith — some subscry- ving it with some interpretation of it, or application to the Seruice Bookes and Cannons, and uthers subscryving that i of late tiyed by his Majestie, and the short Confession of j Faith, with the general! band nakedlie, without any sick I application or interpretation, subscryvit be the Counsell. | \Ve are to think advisedlie to it as of great importance, and I hope we shall heare somewhat to give us light to encouradge us to goe forward in the interpretation thereof, that that light we have may shine to uthers. Argyle said — I should be glad that all that are heir might heare me to the full; and least I should be mistaken of what I said yesterday, I would gladlie let it be heard to this com- pany, I intendit that two thinges should have beene knowne before we parted in the termes we did. The first was, onlie to take the Commissioner and States to witnes on the one parte, that what had beene my parte in all this bussines was neither flatterie nor seeking my owne ends ; that, upon the uther pairt, it ought to be knowne that I was never a desyrer of any to doe any thing that might wrang soveraine auctoritie, but studied to keepe thinges in the fairest order I could. The second thing was truelie, I heard some dispute was like to grow by somewhat that was spoken be Doctor Balcanquell concerning the Constitution of this Church ; and, although 1 it was incumbent to me to beware that that dispute should not grow dangerous — that when a whole Kingdome was en- j tered in a nationall oath, the Assembly might not enter in j any dispute, nor go in any thing that might prejudge any 1 1 thing that by their owne knowledge and consent had been done ; I say it was incumbent to me to heare witnes that nothing should be done prejudicial! to that voit ; not that I thought that I desyred it should not be tane to consideratione what it were, becaus some hes done it douhtsomlie — uthers hes referred it to the Generali Assemblie — uthers, not out of any dislike to religion, subscrivit it as the meaning of it was when it was first sett downe, which I now adhere unto, and declaires, that in the publict way that we did it, it was as it was then protest, without any sophisticatione or equi- vocatione whatsomever, and I heare of no uther interpreta- tion ; and that I adhere to againe and againe, and desyres j that any thing of that kynd be done wiselie, and be so looked I to y that a whole kingdome run not themselfes to a national | perjurie. And if I have beine anything intricat, I cleare j myselfe, and make it knowne unto the world that I adhere unto the meaning of that Covenant as it was first subscryvit, j againe and againe, shortlie wisheing this nobile and worthie meiting to go on wyselie, considering the goodnes of our gracious Master, who hath condescendit to many things, and gone further on nor many looked for ; and what is wanting I hope it is misinformation. And for the Commissioners cariage, it hath beene very modest ; and therefore I recom- mend to you to consider that ye have both the estate of the countrie and the estate of religion in hand, and according to your discreit cariage will this glorious worke be done : and doe it in that respect to your graceous Soveraigne as be- comes obedient Subjects. Then the Earle of Montrois said — My Lord Wigtowne was to come heare with my Lord Argyle to make his owne declaration, and will be heir on Tuysday to declair himself to the Assembly as my Lord Argyle hes done, and will give all satisfaction. Then the Moderatour spacke to the Assembly — My Lord | Argyle desires yow to know that his Lordship hes put his hand to the Confession of Faith, and uthers of His Majesties Counsell, with this express declaration, that they have sub- scrived according to the meaning of it when it was first sett downe, and willes the Assemblie to proceed consideratelie concerning that, lest they doe any thing to bring any man that hes subscryved it under the suspition of that they can- not tell what ; and W igtowne hes declared by Montrois that he could not stay to day to make the same declaration, but will returne the next week for that effect ; therefore since we have this recommended to us after this manner, and the matter requyres the same, it is good for us to proceed ad- vysedlie and consideratelie, as that which will have light to any menes mynds — I mean when we come to declair what was the meaning of the Confession of Faith when it was first subscrived — what was abjured therein in doctrine, dis- cipline, worship, or government — so as it may give all satis- faction to all men ; and I trust this grave Assembly will give their declaration from good reasons and weil groundit, for it is a material poynte. Then the Moderatour, in name of the Assembly, desyred Argyle to stay in the towne and be a witnesse to their pro- ceedings, though he was not a Commissioner. Argyle said — My interest in religion, as I am a Christian, though not a member of this Assembly, yet in the Collective bodie of the Kirk, induces me thereto. The Moderatour said — This is a materiall poynt, and it would take up a lang tyme to heare all the acts concerning the clearing of the Confession of Faith ; therefore I thinke it good, if the Assembly be pleased with it, to appoynt a Committee to view the bookes therefore, that they may ad- vyse about thinges and make them ryper to the Assembly : for next unto the word of God, this Confession, so solemn!ie sworn, should goe deepest in our mynds. 678 APPENDIX. Lowdoun said — It must be the rule of all our proceedings, and the ground of all our comfort, when we are put to far- I ther tryells ; therefore it would be verie deeplie considerit, 1 and some judicious men named upon the Committie. Auldbar said — There is some in the North that hes a third Covenant. Moderatour said — We are not ohlist to expone that. The names of the Committie : Mr David Lindsay, Mr Walter Balcanquell, Mr Andrew Cant," Mr Harie Rollock, I Mr James Martine, Mr David Dick, j Mr Thomas Mitchell, Mr Robert Hendersone. Mr Thomas Wilkie. Rothes, Lowdoun, Balmerino, Burley. Barons — Auldbar, Keir, Shirreff of Teviotdaile. Burgesses — James Cochrane, Patrick Bell pro vest of Glasgow, James Fletcher pro vest of Dundie. Montgomerie said — Moderatour, we desyre our Summonds and Claime against the pretendit Archbishops and Bishops he red. The Moderatour said — Y e knaw the Prelats wer summond in the best way could he thought upon ; and now, since the Assemblie is constitut, and hath discussed all objections that can be imagined against us, let us heare what is said against ane of the Bishops, and remove the rest to be looked on by these that have the charge of the Bilies. We need not spend tyme in reading the generall Complaint against the Bishops ; but here is a particular, condiscending upon some things which will cleare the generall. This is against the Bishop of Galloway. There was a lang Clame red, conteining fifteen or sixtein scheits of paper, against the pretendit Bishop of Galloway : Then he was called upon by the officer of the Assembly, James Bell. The Moderatour said—' This is a great bussines we are en- tered upon, and we may perceave, by the reading of the Clame, what will be said against all the rest ; and becaus it will trouble the Assembly, let them be first viewed by a Committee delegat by the Assembly for that effect, who may give accompt to the Assembly. The names of the Committee — Mr James Ramsay, for the Diocie of Edinburgh, Mr John Jamiesone, for the Diocie of Glasgow, Mr William Dalgleishe, for Galloway, Mr Donald M'-Elwrath, for Argyle, Mr John Duncane, for Dumblane, Mr George Symer, for Dunkell, Mr Robert Murray, for St Androwes, Mr George Halyburton, for Brechin, Mr Alexander Martine, for Aberdeene, Mr William Falconer, for Murray, Mr David Monro, for Ross, Mr George Leslie, for Cathnes, Mr William Stewart, for Orkney, Nobles — Eglintoun, Weymes, Johnstoun, Wedderburn, Lawers, Kinliet, Provest of Kingliorne, Baillie of Innemes, Mr George Gray clerk of Dundie, [Haddington.] To thir wer addit — Mr John M‘Kenzie, of Lewis, and George Gordoun, brother to Sutherland. When the Clerk called on Doctor Robert Hamilton, Pro- curator for the liishops, to answer to any thing he can say to the Summonds and Complaints given in against them, he compeired not. The Moderatour said — Ye know I was saying that the first occasion of our Complaints and Supplications were the Service Booke, and these Cannons that were urged upon us. Ye know how miserable the face of this Church and State had bein before this tyme, if we had not supplicated against these evills, and what great mercie the Lord our God wham we sarve hes shawen in delyvering ws so farr from them ; yet that it may be knawen to the world that our supplications wer just, and that there may be some monument of the wickedness of that Booke left to the generation following, it is very expedient that it be examined heir, that your judgements may be knawen and the reason of your judge- ments ; and that we may goe on the more compendiouslie, it will be good that there be a Committee chosen also for this. Then the advyce of some of the Members of Assembly wer taken, who all gave consent to this. The names of the Committie— Mr Androw Ramsay, Mr John Adamsone, Mr Robert Baillie, Mr Edward Wright, Mr Alexander Petrie, Mr John Menzies, Mr J ohn Oswell, Mr Samuel Rutherfuird, Mr Alexander Kerss, Mr John Hay. The Moderatour said — The Booke of Cannons, Service Booke of Ordination, and High Commission, all of them are to be sighted by yow. Sess. 9. — November 30, 1638. After prayer to God by the Moderatour, The Moderatour uttered these words — We trust in God, that the more our good cause hath bein defending, and for which we are now conveened, is agitat, it shall be the more clearlie seen, and the more to be seen the more it shall be affected, and these that shall see the excellent lusture that shall be on it, shall, no doubt, be enamoured with it. Argyle said — I have gotten a paper which I never saw before. It is from the Earle of Kinghorne, and, becaus it is a missive direct to me, I shall read it, and desyres it may be keeped by the Clerk. Rothes said — Heir is ane uther of that same nature from my Lord Galloway. Lowdoun, Yester, Home, went to him, and he spack something before, and we caused put it in writt and sent to him, and he renewed it ; quherein his Lordship declaired that he had subscrived the Confession of Faith, as it was professed in the year 1581, and wishes all the As- sembly to make it the rule of all their proceedings ; and he shawes that they were all wyld in, secreatlie, to the Com- missioners Chamber, and, being debardit, they subscryvit the proclamation, not knawing what was in it ; but, when Galloway heard it, he would have had his hand from it, and, when he saw that he could not get it back, he was so excessively greeved that he professed he got no sleepe all that night. Then the Earle of Montrois said — That the Earle of Mar had given him Commission to declair to the Assembly, that he had the same meaning in the subscryving of the Confes- sion of Faith ; and, quhen tyme was fitt, he would declair it before all the world. Lykewise said the Earle of Mar, he being hardlie pressed to subscryve the proclamation, he re- fused, and said, he would not declair his Sone a Traitour, who yester night had subscry ved the Covenant, and professed to the Marqueis and these who pressed him, that, as long as his blood was hote, he would think Covenanters als honest Men as themselves. Likewise, Montrois said — That he had Commission from my Lord Napier, to declair to the Assembly, that he had the same meaning in subscryving the Schort Confession, as it was first sett doune. Montrois said, further, my Lord Amont would declair the same before the Assembly. The Moderatour said — Though we had not a Nobleman to assist us, our cause were not the worse nor the weiker ; but there is occasion given us to blesse God that they are comeing in daylie in throngs Moderatour said — There were, in your hearing, some Committies appoynted for some materiall poyntes ; for con- sidering the Confession of Faith ; the Complaint against the Prelats ; the Service Booke ; the Booke of Cannons ; High Commission, and Booke of Ordination; but it is impossible to examine thir in so short a tyme, and therefore we passe them. Lowdoun said — Please yow Moderatour, we began to looke upon that purpose, being a matter of great importance, and deserved an accurat investigation of tbinges that did passe, especeallie, not about the Confession of Faith, which was first made and subscry ved at that time. We went back, in looking to these registers and Bookes of Assemblies quherein we find the discipline of the Kirk accuratelie ex- pressed, so that I thinke, if, in God’s Providence, these Bookes had not bein found, it had bein hard for the Church of Scotland ; because it is about matters as they wer then presentlie established and concludit. The seeking out of this and the looking over of many A cts, tooke a long tyme ; but, on all, we find a great harmonie and cohesione, clearlie set downe, to put out Popperie and Episcopacie. The name is examined ; the corruptions is examined ; the office is examin- ed ; and their severall considerations tane to many Assem- blies. The Discipline, of long deliberation, is sett downe. APPENDIX. 679 The Confession of Faith following, is a confirmation both upon the ane and the uther ; and the ground of thir hes bein the root of many of our proceedings through this Kingdome, especeallie the renewing of the Confession of the same oath first framed, which I hope will give satisfaction to all men who could not weill understand it before, when they shall take knowledge of thir bookes. We dar not now give out our judgement fullie ; but we will goe on in consideration, to satisfie ow all, and we crave your patience to acquyet yourselfes in it. t must have long tylne ; for matters of so great importance cannot be done but accuratelie, for every mans satisfaction. The Moderatour said — It were better not to touch it at all then not to handle it accuratelie and solidlie ; yet we allow not the Committies for determination of any thing, but only to prepair matters for the Assembly their judgement, and if need be, tyme may be prorogat further to them. Lowdoun said — God, the Father of light, give light unto it, for it must be the rule of all our proceedings. The names of the Committie for the Prelats called upon for their Complaints. Mr Robert Murray said — That the Complaint against every particular Prelat behoved to be tryed, and therefore desyred the Moderatour to intimat to the Assembly, and, if any had information against any particular Diocesian Prelat, that they would give it in to the Committie. Then the Committie for the Billes were called on. Mr David Lindsay answered — W e have discussed some par- ticular Billes that came before us, and we conceave this ; that where the caus is weightie and the proces red, we think it good that Summonds be directed both for the Pairties and witnesses. There be uthers against whom there is no formall proces, and it will be weill done to heare the judgement of the Assembly anent these. Moderatour said — There be two sortes of processes : ane sort are these which are closed alreadie before the particular Judicatories ; I meane the Presbitries from whence the Pairtie are complained upon, who have heard the witnesses and set downe their deposition ; and nothing left to the As- sembly but to pronounce their Sentence. These may come in pertinentlie before the Assemblie. But for uther procesefe that are not concludit, and witnesses not heard, but to be heard, before the Assembly consider whether it be more ex- pedient to send citations to the Pairtie and witnesses to com- peir before the Assembly, or if they shall be remitted to their Presbitries, or the next adjacent Presbitrie, as having Com- mission from the Generali Assembly to put a finall conclu- sion to them, and report it to the next Generali Assembly. The question was moved concerning Doctor Hamiltons proces, whether it should be heir agitat or remitted to the Presbitrie, in respect that the Presbitrie had refused proces alreadie, and it was reported that he would goe shortlie out of the Countrie ? And therefore it was concludit to be de- cydit by the Assembly. The Moderatour said — Lett us come to the third Committee concerning the Service Bookes, Cannons, and High Com- mission. Mr Androw Ramsay answered — It is a toylesome taske — a Papall Service Booke, anti-Christian constitutions, and a superstitious Booke of ordinations — and will take us eight dayes at the least. Moderatour said — Ye would consider that ye are not to dispute against ane adversarie, but to make such abridgement of the errours therein contained, as may be seine to such a grave Assembly. Complaints against Prelates. Moderatour said — Ye knaw there be some Complaints against the Prelats, common against them all — some of them more personall against Pointes of Doctrine and Conversation : As, for example, there is a transgression of these Caveats, and limitations put upon them by the Generali Assemblie when they wer first admitted to voit in parliament. Matters of this kind will be so notour as the Assembly at the reading of the processes, that we will not need great probation ; and therefore the Committies ueids not to trouble themselves but in poyntes of doctrine. Then were the Caveats red. The Moderatour said — 1 would wish that uther some of them or all of them had been heir to answer for themselves, and some of them objected, and speciallie Doctor Lindsay, that these Caveats were put upon them, but Assemblies had lowsed them. The Bishop of Sanct Androwes, in a Booke which he calls “ The Refutation of a little booke anent the Government of the Kirk of Scotland,” giving ane answer to that that is against their booke of the Caveats : he says they never had a purpose to keip them, but only to delyver them from the contentions of turbulent men. This is not red that ye should give out definit sentence till the whole complaint be considered by these to whose consideration it is presented; but there may be an abridgement of the Caveats, and parti- cular transgressions of them drawn up. The Shirreff of Teviotdaile said — That these transgres- sions, many of them be notour to us, yet not to strangers, to whom the relation of our proceedings shall come ; therefore it is necessar all to be proven. Moderatour said — It is objected be these that wrote that litle booke of the Government of the Kirk of Scotland, which was sent over to Holland at what tyme the Synod of Dort was sitting, for weightie Causes and considerations, to pre- vent evills that might have come in in the Kirk of God : It is said in that booke, that when they went forward, there was protestations used against them. He answered, what protestation they meaned I cannot tell, but for that Covenant wherein they please themselves so much, it was rashly and unadvisedly forged by braine-sicke men, to the destruction of the King and republict, and to the mocking of God ; there- fore God hes recompensed them with shame and ane unhappie success of all their interpryses. Then answered ane Mr Law — That he saw him subscryve that Covenant that he had so traduced. Then some said that things alleadged against the Prelats which seemed most evident neided not to be proven. Moderatour said — Abundantia juris non nocet ; and it is necessar when a nation or Kirk would make it manifest to the world the lawfulness of their proceedings, though it were never so notour to themselves. Moderatour said — We have not farder to doe till the Com- mitties have tane paines and presented their labours to the ! Assembly The Moderatour said — There would be a Committie ap- pointed for the considering of these Assemblants, for it is a poynt of no small importance. The names of the Committie — Earle of Home, Lords Sinclare, Yester, Balmerino, Coupar, Cranstoun. George Gordoune, Mr Thomas Ker, Lamington, Barclay, James Sword, George Jameson, Thomas Durie, Androw Baird, Mr John Robisone, John Maitland, Mr James Scharpe, Richard Ingles, Gilbert Murray, William M v Kenzie, John Rae, John Robertsone, John Ker. Sessio 10. — Primo Decembris 1638. After prayer, the Moderatour said — Ye know a great pairte of these affaires to be agitat this day, was committed to some worthie men upon a Committie, to be presented to your view — such as the Confession of Faith, the Complaint against the Prelats, the matters of the Service Booke, the auctoritie, or null auctoritie of the Assemblies ; and we tooke j this little tyme to heare some particular complaints against ; some ministers, especiallie these who have their proces closed | alreadie, in a manner, and nothing left but the sentence and determination of the Assembly; for they must be viewed by you. We should do nothing without a warrand ; and I doubt not but ye are better acquainted with the warrand and ground of our proceedings nor I can expresse. Y e knowe there is no familie, nor hous, nor republick — no citie, no kingdome, or corporation — nor any humane societie, that can subsist with- out order ; and, in the midst of the world, where the Divell is opposing, and corruption mightilie working, we may be assured that the integritie of the Word of God cannot stand without Government and ecclesiasticall discipline. Our Lord gives it the name of the Keyes of the kingdome of Heaven — a glorious^ name, indeed; and the Apostle, 1, Cor. 5. calls it a power committed to the Kirk, not for destruction, but for edification. In the nature of it, it is not so much magisteriall as ministeriall power ; and, though the power be great it is principally in his hand who is Lord and Master of the house — the Son of God, who hes absolute power ; and we are but his ministers and servants. Ye know it is re- quyred in a servand, and especiallie in a steward, (and we are called stewards and dispensatoures of the misteries ot God,) that they be found faithfull. We must stryve to ap- prove our selves in the Masters sight, who is sett over the house. The power committed to us is very great, if we con- sider the effects of it. Matthew, ch. 1 8. the effects of it are set downe. If we proceed in sentenceing of a man, especial- lie if we go on that far as to excommunicat him, he against whom the sentence is pronouncit, is counted a publican ; or, if ye looke the Apostles word — more : he is given over to the hands of the Divell : he is put out of the Kirk ; and, although it he horrible to think on such a thing, yet the fruites of it are sweet — for God heirby is glorified ; for surelie, in despyte of the world and the Divell, he will be sanctified of these that drawes neare him. The terrible ex- ample of Nadab and Abihu is a sufficient document of this. Ye know the Word and the Sacraments are holy and suffi- cient meanes to convey grace. They should be purged of inventions that men hes put upon them ; and sicklyke that Gods house should be purged of scandall and leaven, and these also against whom the sentence passes, if they be not in a damnable caise aud incorrigible, it serves for the sub- dueing of the fieshe and wakening of the spirit — if there be any such distinction to be made between the fieshe and spirit. This is the last and most extreame remedie to subdue the fieshe and waken the spirit. So it is necessar, that we now assembled in Christs name, so solemnlie and so weill war- ranted, goe on with auctoritie ; for, though we be weake and unworthie instruments, we must consider what keyes he put in our hands, that hes the keyes of the house of David, that shutts and no man opens, that opens and no man shutts. I may give you assurance, in the name of our Lord, that if we goe on as we are warrandit by Him, without partialitie and respect to men, but having respect to the honour of God and weilfair of this Kirk — if we goe on with sentence and excom- munication, that which we doe on earth he shall ratifie in Hea- ven, and we shall be all witnesses that he shall ratifie the same. If there be any of the particular Complaints that are to be given in, let them be presented heir, to be red be the Clerk. Mr David Lindsay said — We have met, and thir processes which are deducit and concludit we have sent the formalitie ; and such as we produce heir, according to our judgment, are of weightie causes, g,nd formerlie deduced Heir is ane proces against Mr David Mitchell. Case of Mr David Mitchell. Moderatour said — We should have heard truelie with re- grait of their persons — yea with joy when we see the Lord putting to his hand to purge his awne house. Then was the proces red against Mr David Mitchell. Then Mr Henry Rollock said — It may be thought that he should now have spoken more of that kynd ; but truelie, till the last day of his suspension, he was bussie therein ; and some pointes of his doctrine came to our knowledge after the pro- ces was closed — namely, that it was ane abasement for kings to be subject to the Word of God; and when he wrote to us, he carried so much neglect to us, that he called us not brethren of the Presbitrie, but brethren of the Exercise of the said judicatorie — alluding it was nomine tenus non re. Lyke- wise he hes declyned the Assembly ; but, indeed, it wer a pittie of him, for utherwayes he hes good partes. Rothes said — Bellermine had good partes ; but he would be ane evill Minister for the Kirk of Scotland. The Moderatour said — We heard the proces, and we de- syre not to proceed to the sentence this day ; but we will lieare the judgement of the brethren. Then was Mr David Mitchell called upon. The Moderatour said — We have to consider that this Kirk hes not been acquainted with Censures of that kind, blessed be God ! Howsoever, there hes bein a great and lamentable schisme in this Kirk these many yeares, yet few poyntes of heresie could be objected against any of this Church who were verie free of it before ; therefore no marvell is that we Ministers and Elders be not so throughlie acquainted with their differences as utherwayes we would have bein : but since the matter is gone so farr on, and corruptions are vented so braid and wyde in this land, it were meet we were ac- quainted with them that we may discerne betwixt trueth and errour, light and darknes ; and if it seeme convenient to the Assembly, it is good that some Ministers that are best able make some discourse of this matter, especiallie to shaw what we hold with the reformed Kirkes, which hath beene so publictlie contradicted by thir preachours, and how their tenets contradicts our tenets as the reformed Kirkes. I know there is ane uther proces against some uthers in Schooles of Divinitie that hes the same poyntes, and uthers preachours lykewayes, and it would seeme to have beene done of purpose, and that they are all joyned in ane combination together for venting such poyntes of doc- trine ; for there is come doune some poyntes from England, which were holdin to be the tenets of a great learned man, and thir preachers seemes to be his schollers. Then said the Moderatour — Let us heare some moe two or thrie Billes. Then there was red against Doctor Panter, Master of the New Colledge of St Androwes, containing many erroneous and Papisticall poynts of doctrine. Then there was read a proces against Mr Alexander Gled- stanes, Minister of St Androwes. Then the Committie for Din and Carnaigies Commission was called. Mr James Bonar said — If we find that if the last election had not interveened, the first had beene good ; and if the first had not proceedit, the last had bein good. The first l wants ane act of the Presbitrie and their Subscription, and | so it wants the formall poynt but gives commission ; and the ! uther hath proceedit from ane desyre to be electit. The Moderatour said — It were les prejudice to want the voices of them both, then to doe any thing that may prejudge the Assembly afterward. After lang controversie to and fro about this particular, the rows were called, and the Assembly voited that neither of them should have voite. Sess. 11. — 3 December 1638. After prayer made by the Moderatour, My Lord Argyle said — Ye remember heir I made protes- tation that nothing might be done that might seeme to wrong Soveraigne auctoritie ; for albeit I be not a Member of this A ssembly, yet I have leive to represent my opinion ; and truelie I will say, I know no better way for you then every way to cary yourselves modestlie, keeping all dutie and respect to whom it is due. And I remember of a good passadge — si tacitus possit corvus, &c. — therefore my humble desyre to you all, and especiallie to the Ministerie, is, that ye be very spairing to meddle with the Kings power and auctoritie — not that I suspect any, but that I hope all knowes what is my meaning. They are wise I hope who are en- trusted in this werke, and knowes what is their duetie to a good and graceous King ; and I trust our Master will be wise j in his commands, and so there will be the lesse neid to j meddle with any thing of this kind ; therefore take this ad- | vertisement from me, least any sclander be layd on this bussines. I am very spairing to insist ; but what I have said it is out of affection to the caus. Moderatour said — We are obleist to the goodnes and pro- vidence of our God that hes given unto us so wise and hon- ourable a Member to sitt heir to give tymous advertisement concerning our duetie — perhaps rather to prevent that which might ensue nor to censure any thing that is done ; and sure- , lie w T e ought to consider, that, altho’ the Kirk of Christ, j especiallie assembled in ane counsell and such ane Assembly j as this, hath very great power, yet they should very Aveill ( observe the limits of their power ; for, first, altho’ we have | power to judge betwixt true and false doctrine — altho’ we ! have power also to consider the mater of the Sacraments— I the sealles of the doctrine of the life and manners of men | throughout the kingdome, and of the maters of the Policie of the Government of the Kirke— yet our power is not auto- cratistical but ministerial and subordinat, and ought to give the Lord his owne soveraignitie annexed to him, and to give every one their owne place. Let the Lord have the first place — we will not give his glorie to another ; and let Caesars have their owne places. And surelie he thocht I spack very distinctlie of this purpose tliatsaid — “ God or his Spirit, speak- ing in Scripture, is the judge, and that the Kirk is not judge but index, and that the Christian Magistrat is Vindex; and so give every one his owne place.” The judgement of Soveraigntie and absolute jurisdiction belongs to God ; and this is that great Soveraigntie which must keepe us in the right way, without the which our sillie witts would wander in the bypaths of errour. Since it hath pleased Him to manifest his will in his word as if he were among us and we heare his voyce, we should stryve to decerne his voyce, and go verne our proceedings thereby. Next for the Magistrat— he is the keeper of both the Tables, and ane j APPENDIX. G81 avenger of the breakers of both ; and we are not to judge so uncharitablie and so unreverentlie of our superiors, especial- lie of him who is in the highest place above us, that he will usurpe any thing propper to the Lord, who is only absolute Soveraigne. It becomes us to content ourselves with the in- terpretation of Scripture, or with the indications of it as that word which I alreadie used imports ; and for that which my noble Lord lies bein speaking, it becomes us to think rever- entlie and speake modestlie of superior powers ; and I am sure there is no subject but they will be more carefull to take heid to their words and wayes both in pulpits and other places, nor if the Kings Majestie were present himselfe. I remember of ane example of ane wortliie man in this Kirk who did oftentymes preach in the presence of King James ; and when the King was absent he al wayes spacke with greater reverence, and recommended subjectione and loyaltie to all subjects ; but when he was present, he told him all that he heard of him ; and I wish all of us would carry us so ; and altho’ his place or his Commission be emptie, let us thinke and speake as if one of them were into it : let us carry our- selves as in the sight of God and of our Consciences which are both ane ; for seeking the approbation of a good Con- science we approve ourselves to God, and next in his Majesties sight ; and we need not thinke that the wordes that are spoken heir will not be caried to him with a worse sense put on it. If his Majesties Commissioner wer heir present there neidit no report ; but since it comes to passe that things are made worse, we have so much the more to take heid to ourselves : and I hope of the Spirite of Wisdome and Pietie, which teaches all loyaltie and subjection to supe- riour powers, shall so direct us as there shall be no caus to censure any man justlie. You remember, right reverend and weil-beloved, there ware some thing spoken heir be occasions of a particular complaint given in against Mr David Mitchell, for mentain- ing poynts of Arminianisme ; and we desyred ane of our reverend brethren to speak somewhat for refutation of that errour. Here Mr David Dick spoke at considerable length, against, the errors of Arminianism, after which Mr Andrew Ramsay, at the request of the Mcderatour, spoke shortly on the same subject. Then the Moderatour said — We have reason to blesse the Lord for his graceous providence, that, before this errour spread very far, it hes pleased him to nippe it in the bud ; and God be thanked, who hes raised up some spirits in our tyme to acquaint themselves with this errour, that they are able to refute it. I have some tymes heard that there be two very small poynts, as would seem, wherein this great errour does consist. They are like two grammarians : the ane is, whether the word Elect, or, in Latine, Electi , is nomen , or participium. The question is, whether we doe be- lieve, becaus we are chosen to faith ? They say God chooses men becaus they believe. We say this — That we are elected comes from God’s free grace. There is ane uther word about the signification of ante and pro. They take pro, that Christ hes died, pro omnibus , for the behove and benefite of all. We say that it hes ane uther signification, vice omnium — I meane as Scripture takes it — that is, for all sortes, and if it be tane vice elcctorxim , they must be saved in whose place Christ hath died. Bishop of Orkneys submission. After that there was ane Letter from the Bishop of Ork- ney, and produced by his sone, wherein he submitted him- selfe in all respects to the Assembly. After that, Sir Archibald Stewart of Blackhall, as Coun- sellour, declaired, by Mr John Hamiltoun, his Minister, that he subscryved the Confession of Faith, as it was first sub- scry ved in the year 1581. After that, a young Gentleman of excellent pairtes, called Mr John Forbes, brother- German to Craigievar, who had bein in forraigne countries, and in ane Universitie in Eng- land long, and drank in the love of the customes of these Churches, and, after he came to Scotland, was confirmed in the lyke opinions in Aherdeene, by the Doctors there, and came onlie occasionallie of purpose to have stayed but ane night, and then retired to Ireland ; and, seeing the progres of this Assembly, it pleased God so to work with him that he was enamoured with it, and, contrare to his former reso- lution, came in before the Assembly and subscryved the Covenant. Mr David Mitchells deprivation. Then was Mr David Mitchells proces red, and the Acts I of the Kirk was red in the caces of deprivation. The Moderatour said — There is a difference betwixt the censures of the Kirk of England and ours. They make a difference betwixt deprivation, deposition, and degradation. They say, deprivation takes away his benefice, deposition his office, and degradation, according to the Priests of old in the Bookes of Martyres, were degradat when they made apostacie from the Roman Religion ; and they mentained, with the Papists, that, notwithstanding of all their Censures, there re- maines something which they call character indelebilis , which is a certain impression put upon the saule of a man when he receaves ordination ; but they themselves cannot tell what it is. But censures usit in our Ministers, beside admonition, ar suspension, deprivation, deposition : Suspension for a tyme from exercising the function of the Ministerie ; deprivation and deposition we take to be ane, becaus, when he is de- pryved of his benefice, so of his office. There is ane of thir censures alreadie put on Mr David Mitchell, Minister in Edinburgh. Now ye have to consider what ye have to doe further. Ye have heard the proces, and he has declyned the Assembly, contrare to the Act of the Generali Assembly at Sanct Androwes, the year 1595. Then the Moderatour asked Mr Robert Douglas opinion, who answered — He is clearlie convict of Arminianisme and many Poyntes of Popery, and the Censure of the Kirk is deprivation for his false doctrine, and excommunication for declyning the Generali Assembly ; therefore, I think this Assembly should extirpat such birds, least the Kirk receave prejudice heirafter. Mr Androw Ramsay said — That he promised to forbeare such doctrine, but did it not ; and not only declyned this Assembly, but used meanes to stoppe the course, by letters from the Bishop and Commissioner, commanding the Pres- bitrie to desist from any censure. Therefore he deserves deposition. Moderatour said — This is a sufficient ground of a Sentence against him, that his doctrine is the doctrine of the remon- strances that they avowed at the Counsell of Dort, contrare to the doctrine of all the reformed Kirkes, whose Commis- sioners were there ; and consequently to the doctrine of the Kirk of Scotland ; for he defends universall grace, resistabi- litie of Grace — efficacie of Christ’s death — apostacie of the Saints ; so he is both convict of heresie, and obstinatelie glories in the venting of it ; and so in respect of his false doctrine and declinatour, merito ejiciendus. Then the rows were called, and the whole Assembly voiced to his deprivation. Moderatour said — There is none here, I am sure, more loath to pronounce a sentence of deprivation nor I, who never did the lyke ; yet, since place is given unto me, in name of this Assembly, and in name of Jesus Christ our Saviour, I declair, that Mr David Mitchell shall no more ex- ercise the function of the Ministrie ; and, for that whilk is laid to his charge, he is not worthie of any Ministration of the word and Sacraments in the Kirk of God, and declares his place to be vacant ; and ordaines the Presbitrie of Edinburgh to make intimation thereof in their Kirkes. Sess. 12. — December 4, 1638. After Prayer to God, there was a long and learned speach against Arminianisme, uttered by Mr Robert Baillie, Min- ister at Kilwinning. Then the Commissioners of Edinburgh declared to the As- sembly — That the Citizens of Edinburgh, so soone as they heard their Ministers had declyned the Assembly, they were in such a rage against them, that they would neither heare them preaching, nor joyne with them in their Sessions ; therefore, they cravit the benefite of the Acts of the Assembly ; and in respect it would have tane up meikle tyme to have heard the particular clauses of everie ane of them, the Assembly resolved to delegat some men, who should have full power and Commissione from the Assembly, to heare and examine all complaints given in against them, and, if they deserve deposition, that they shall have alse great power to pronounce it as the Generali Assembly, according to the Customes of the Assemblies of the Kirk in former tymes, who may trans- mit the power by Commission, quoad ad hunc ejfedum. 4 It 682 APPENDIX. Some Complaints were given in against Mr George Sydeserff and Mr William Maxwell, quhilk was red, and proces pro- duced against the persone ot Leith, and Mr J ohn W atsone. The Commission hes power upon all the forsaids persones in Edinburgh, Leith, Canongeit, and Dumbar. The names of the Commissioners— Mr John Iver, Mr Androw Blackball, Mr James Fleyming, Mr John Oswald, Mr James Porteous, Mr Robert Douglas, Mr Richard Dicksone, Mr James Symsone, Mr Robert Cranstoun, Mr Frederik Carmichael. Mr Alexander Hendersone. Nobles — Rothes, Montrois, Lowthian, Lindsay, Lewdoun, Balmen-ino. Barons— Auldbar, Waughton, Schirreff of Teviotdaile. Burgesses — Mr George Gray, Mr Robert Cunninghame, or any thirteen of them, 7 thereof being Ministers. They are to sitt doune before the end of Januar. Then some Ministers were sworne before the Assembly to depone faithfully to the Committie upon the complaint against the pretendit Prelats what they know — namely, Mr James Blair, William Dalgleishe, Androw Andersone. Then there was a proces against Mr Alexander Gladstanes, Archdeane of St Androwes ; and the whole Assembly voited to his deprivation, and the Moderatour pronounced the sentence. A detail of the means adopted for packing the Assemblies of 1608, and that of 1610 held at Glasgow, of 1616 at Aber- deen, and of 1618 at Perth, (where the Five Articles were adopted,) and of the sums paid to the creatures of the Bishops for attending and voting as they were desired, were fully de- tailed by Mr John Row and others, whereupon — The Moderatour said — If there be any other brether in this Assembly that hes any uther particular concerning Perth Assembly, let them now declair it before it goe to voiting, and let us doe all out of cleare light, solide know- ledge, and certane persuasion, that we pas not from it the nixt day. Ye know what pitiful perturbations and tragical tribulations has bein upon the urging of these articles, and we have reason to blesse God, who this day calls them to examination. I thinke there was four yeares betwixt the closing of the Assembly and Parliament that ratified it, and all the tyme betwixt, there could never a certane forme be gotten of that Act. Alwayes brethren, becaus this is a matter of importance, and 1 would have you all fullie per- swaded in your mynds ; any man that hes anything to say, he hes now tyme. The Assembly was all silent, and thereby declared their satisfaction. Then the rolles were called, and the whole Assembly, all in ane voice, without contrare voice, declaired all the forsaids Assemblies to be null. The Moderatour said — Ye have voited unanimouslie ; and these Assemblies I trust be not only null, but hereafter shall be a beacon that we stryke not against such rocks; pathemata anathemata, nocumenta documenta. Then the Moderatour pronounced, in name of the Assem- bly, these Assemblies to be null, in these words : The Assembly heir declaires these Assemblies to be null — to have no ecclesiastical nor civile authorise ; and con sequent] i'e whosoever practises any thing under pretence of their authoritie, shall be censured. Sess. 13. — 5 December , 1638. A fter in calling on the name of God, The Moderatour said — We have great reason to blesse the Lord for these very cleare and sensible demonstrations of his presence among us, both in veritie and unitie, as we did sensiblie find yesterday. There is none of us that hes now assented to the declaration of the nullitie of these As- semblies, but they can gather such ane appendix as this, That since these Assemblies ar null, no oath that were taken of any minister shall have any further obligation ; and if these pretendit Assemblies had no pretext of ane Assem- bly, and the rest that were pretendit to be Assemblies, are declared to he null : and this was ane great pairt of that in- tollerahle tyrannie and yoke that was upon the neck of this Church ; and since all these things are now in effect dischargit and declaired to be null that were concludit in these Assem- blies, we ought all to tume to our former practice, warran- table by lawfull Assemblies and customes of this Church, and, no more to be acknowledgit, the power of these null Assemblies. And sicklyke since Presbyteriall power was tane away by these pretendit Assemblies, their power is now returned againe ; and therefore let all of us use it when we goe hame. Mr David Dick said — 1 desyre that that may he insert in the bookes of the A ssembly ; and becaus that some Ministers are admitted be Presbitries, wham the Bishops refused to ad- mitt, it wer good it wer ratified in the Assembly. The Moderatour said — That which they have done in Presbitries, according to Presbyteriall order, cannot be null. After this there was a proces produced against Doctor Hamiltoun, and the executions produced ; and the officer re- ported that when he summoned him, he bad him hang him- self — he was not a treatour to compeir before rebells ; and that he was ane honester man nor any that sat at Assembly. Then he was called on, and ane day assigned for the wit- nesses. Then Mr Wilkie, Henry Stirling, Sir Robert Boyd of Bonschaw, Mr David Elphingstoun, Mr Hendry Semple were sworne to declair what they knew against Mr James 1 Forsythe, Minister of Kilpatrick, to the Commissioner for i the Billes. Complaint against the Prelats. Moderatour said — Now let us goe on in this great com- plaint against the Prelats ; and if there be any thing done in it, let it be accuratelie and orderlie ; and that it may be upon some sure grounds, for our proceedings will be strichted to the uttermost. Yee know there was two sorts of accusationes given in 1 against them. The ane was generall, and that was the breach ! of the Caveats that was put upon them to keepe them. The Moderatour said — The uther was particular faults against them. Let us first examine the generall, and be very exact 1 in it, becaus the examination of ane is a rule of the rest. There was the Complaint against the Bishop of St An- I drowes red, and it was found that he had sworne the Caveats at his admission to the Bishoprick of Glasgow, bot he had j not subscryved as the first Caveats requyres. Mr John Livingstone said — That his father declaired to him that he was present at the Bishops admission, aud heard 1 him swear ; and a little thereafter he went to Court, and being reproved by King James for swearing of the Caveats, he purchased a testificat from the Presbitrie of Glasgow that he had not sworne and subscryved, quhilk was true, being tane conjunctim ; whereas he was adstricted to doe nothing in parliament to the prejudice of the libertie of the Kirk, but by warrant from the Kirk. It was found that he had divers tymes voited in Parliament to the prejudice of the Kirks libertie, but never had a warrant from the Kirk, quhilk poynts were notour to the whole Assembly, and declaired by Rothes, Eglintoun, Lowdoun, Mr Robert Blair, Mr David Dalgleische, Mr John Grahame, Mr James Martine, and Mr James Sibbald, to be most true. Moderatour said — Since the Kirk of Scotland, who should have given him a warrant, is heir, and declaires he had none from them ; and, lykewayes, since he compeires not to shaw his warrant, it is cleare he never had any. It was also found that he had sett tacks, and sold patronages to the prejudice of the Kirk ; and diverse noblemen declaired that he had sold patronages to them, and they said they tooke their pennywortlie of him. Lowdoun and the Laird of Blair, Provest of Dunbarton, and Mr George Young, wer taken sworne to declaire to the Committie wnat they knew in this particular. Whereas the fyft Caution requires residence with their flocke, to be present at their Presbitries, the Contrair was j notour to all the Assembly; and the Moderatour declaired that this 20 year he heard not 3 exercises in their Presbitrie. The 6 and 7 Cautions were more manifest to the whole Assembly. The breach of the 8 is evident by their decli- natour, whereas they call themselves “the Representative Kirk.” Lowdoun declaired — That when our Petitions were framed and given in to Counsell, the pretendit Bishop rejected it, becaus it bure, “ in the name of the Kirk and Clergie joyn- ing with the Nobles, Gentlemen,” &c. The Bishop of St Androwes answered, “Whom call ye the Kirk? A number 1 APPENDIX. ! of baggage Ministers, worthie to be banished : ye shall un- derstand that we are the Kirk.” This Janies Cochrane witnessed also; and Mr James Bonar declaired that in a Convention of Bishops at Leith, he heard them say these words : “ They say that they are the Kirk, but we are the Kirk, and it shall be so ; who will say the contrare ?” Process against John Crichtoun. Then there was a proces given in against Mr John Crich- toun, Minister at Paisley, whilk was red. It contained many blasphemous poynts, both of Arminianisme and Poperie — about 48 — besyde his scandelous lyfe. Then the roll was called, and the whole Assembly voited to his deprivation. Then the Moderatour said — Though it be our parte to doe what the Lord hes commanded us, we should doe it with griefe and compassion of heart ; for a just sentence may be pronounced with ane evill heart : notwithstanding, we ought to have hope that the Lord will give him repentance; but since ye have thought him worthie of deposition, In the name of this Assembly, and in the name of Christ, our Lord, I depose him from all function of the Ministrie, both in doc- trine and use of Sacraments, and declaires his place to be vacant. Sess. 14. — December G, 1638. After prayer to God, there was some witnesses sworne to give their information concerning the Complaint against the Prelats ; . . . and becaus these persones are witnesses, they cannot be judges, and therefore they cannot sitt heir as voiters in that particular. The Moderatour said — Ye know there was a Committie of some learned and worthie brethren anent the Service Booke, Cannons, &c., and we trust their labours shall have a large approbation of yow. Ye shall heare some of them red unto yow, which we hope shall give great light unto your mynds. Take head to them that you may be able, after the hearing of them, to the voiting, that after the declaration of your mynd, ane act may be drawen up such as beseemes the General Assemblie, and that by the auctoritie of this Assembly, order may be given for printing a Treatise which may be a guard for the posteritie to come against such evills, and perhaps for uther Kirkes also ; and albeit the laboures of our worthie brethren take up some tyme in reading of them, I hope we will not wearie, becaus there are many notable poyntes of heresie and errour in these bookes ; and since there hes beine great paines taken by the authors of these bookes thir many yeares in frameing of them, I hope ye shall find it a well bestowed day, to see the darknes and errours of them discovered : and I am sure it will be more delectable for us to heare thir thinges reading, nor to have bein reading these Popishe bookes ourselves in our churches. Then there was a large and learned Treatise red by these reverend brethren that were in that Committie, descryving the Idolatrie and Superstition of the Service book, the tyran- nic and usurpation of the Booke of Cannons and Ordination, and the unlawfulnes of the High Commission, which gave great satisfaction to the whole Assembly. The Assemblies condemning the Service Boolx and High Commission. Then the Moderatour said — Your Honours and Wisdomes all know how this Church hath bein burdened with these great weights and multitudes of evills, the service, &c. Ye know also how a great parte of the Subjects of this King- dome, of all rankes, did joyne together in a great, peaceable, and humble maner, and did supplicat his Majestie against these manifold and great evills ; and when at the first, they had not such great hope as utherwayes they would have wish- ed, to have beene free of these great evills, how they joyned together in the Confession of Faith 1580. Ye are acquanted with the words wherein these same evills are abjured ; “ and becaus efter due examinatione we plainlie perceave and un- doubtedly beleive that the forsaids narations and evills,” &c. Ye know it pleased the Kings Majestie at last to discharge all these bookes and High Commission, for the which we have reasone heartilie to thanke his gracious Majestie ; and it hes pleased God, by the indiction of this present free Generali Assemblie, to bring us all heir, and is now calling us to give our judgements concerning these bookes and High Commis- sion. I did not thinke that any of yow neids any farder in- formation, both becaus the Kings Majestie hes discharged 683 them alreadie, and becaus it is not the first day that ye have heard of them, but bath informed yourselfes of the evill of them or now ; and though your judgements had not bein prepaired by the laboures of our reverend and learned breth- ren, I put no question but ye would have done it before out of verie cleare light. Ye know ye must consider whether these bookes and the High Commission have bein brought into the Kirk without warrant of the Kirk, contrare, to the order thereof, whether they containe thinges abjured in our National Confessione of Faith we have latelie subseryved — and, in a word, whether they be by this National Assembly to be condemned? Then the Moderatour stated the question — Whether doe ye reject or condemne these Bookes and the High Commis- sion, for the reasons foresaids, or not? Then the Clerk called the rolles. Mr Alexander Kerse being first called upon, said — As for these bookes, sepeliantur sine honore : as they were hatched and introduced in ane unlawfull maner, let them be buried with reproach and shame, and send them ad infortunatas insulas. As for the High Commission, no i feyrannie is of long durance, and, therefore, with a short cutt, I abjure it. Mr Thomas Ramsay said — I reject them to the jacks of eternal destruction. Mr Androw Cant said — I think the High Commission like the Spanish Inquisition. I think the Booke of Canons full of Popishe and Pop-lyke tyrannie. I think the Service Booke full of superstition and massing Poperie ; and I think that Booke of Ordination, like the beast in the Revelation, with which none could buy or sell ; and, therefore, I abjure and condemne them all. Then all the rest of the Assembly, without a contrare voite, rejected and condemned them all. Moderatour said — We have very great reason to acknow- ledge the goodnes of God to us, that joynes us together after such a maner, in giving so ample a testimony to Christ our Lord, and so large a tcstimonie against the worke of Anti- christ in this land ; and every one of us should wislie for the same spirit to goe on with us to the end of the worke. Then divers of the Assembly desyred that the labour of these worthie and learned men might be put to the presse, whilk was promised Sess. 15. — December 7. After in calling upon the name of God, There were some witnesses sworne to depone what they knew against Mr William Annand — against the Bishop of Dumblane — and against the bishop of Edinburgh. Bishop of DwnkelVs submission. Then Mr James Stewart brought in a letter, and produced before the Generali Assembly, which came from the Bishop of Dunkell, wherein he humbly submitted himselfe to the judgment of the Generali Assembly; and Mr James Steuart shew ane letter written to himselfe, wherein he had given him commission to intreat his reverend brethren not to rank him among the rest of the Bishops, in respect he had neither subseryved the declinatour nor protestation. Then there was a complaint given in against Mr George Halyburtone, and red, wherein he was accused for sacriledge for declyning the Presbitrie, and for denying some of his parochiners the benefite of baptisme, marriage, buriall, and uther benefites of the Kirk. The Assemblie, having manie weightie and grave matters and affaires in hand, remitts the same back againe to the Presbitrie of St Androwes, and ad- joyned unto them, in Commission, the Earle of Rothes, Mr Robert Douglas, Mr Robert Cranstoune, &c. Then there was complaints given in against Mr James Fleck, wherein he was accused for defending universall grace ; who answered that he did never defend it, as a parte of the doctrine of the Arminians ; but only that he said to the gen- tleman that he should not thinke hardlie of him for that, because it was the doctrine of the Lutherian Kirk. I con- fesse I citted two texts of Scripture — John ii. 1,2; Pet. ii ; but I was never of that opinion that Christus mortuus est pro singulis. The Assembly, finding it would consume much tyme to discuss the particulars, and that they had weightie occasions in hand, did appoynt a committie for that effect — namely Mr Matthew Brisbane, Mr Alexander Somervell, Mr John Moncreiffe, Mr John Maitland, and Mr Samuel Rutherfuird. 684 APPENDIX. Bishop of Galloway deposed , §c. Tlien were the Articles that were approven against Mr Thomas Svdserff, pretendit Bishop of Galloway, given in ; ! and it was sufficiently proven and notour to the whole As- i sembly that he was guiltie of the breach of the Caveats, | besyde many poyntes of Poprie and Arminianisme, and many grosse personal faults. Then was red the paynes and censures of the Caveats furth ! of the Acts of Assembly. i Then the Moderatour said — We must not esteeme of mans faults according to the worlds estimatione ; for ye know if a | man be not a drunkard, a theiff and robber, &c., in their i estimatione he is a good man, whatever fault he has uther- 1 ! wayes. But we of this Assemblie ought to thinke uther- wayes ; not that I would extenuat the foir-named faults, but ! are to consider their habituall and ordinary transgressions of 1 a publict law is a great guiltiness ; or, as schoolmen speakes, ! sjnritualia peceata are greater than temporalia peccata. So ! say I. The preaching of false doctrine, and venemous poy- | sone of that kynde, to bring the people from the trueth of , their profession to Papistrie and Idolatrie, must have a great ! censure ; and, consequently, the breach of these Caveats by him, the declyning of this Assembly, and the bringing in of the Service Booke — which you have alreadie censured and condemned for the manifold guiltinesse that it hes in the bowells of it — he deserves no lesse than excommunication. I remember in the English Church there is a sort of excom- munication which the Papists call excommunicatio lata — that is, when the man committs the cryme, he shall be declared to be excommunicat. And there is two sortes of excommu- nication used in this Church : the one is called summar ex- communication, and the uther uses to have admonition be- fore, and is 'propter contumaciam. Summar excommunica- tion hath beene used in this Church in two cases, and was for hynous crymes. The uther was when the Kirk was in danger by suffering of such a member — as a rotten member is cut off least it should corrupt the whole bodie. The uther, which is propter contumaciam , is knowne to all men. In respect that this pretendit Bishop of Galloway is guiltie of contumacie, being cited to compeir heir, and having declyned this Assembly, his excommunication cannot be called sum- | mar, but propter contumaciam. It is pittifull to see some 1 1 hath such a great conceat of their owne words, learning, and | j engyne that they will not be ranked among uthers ; but, as | they thinke themselves above uthers in gifts, so they thinke j they should he advanced above them in place — and, there- | fore, ane ordinary stipend cannot content them ; and then I they begin to tyre of preaching and catechising; and thus are tane away with the pleasures and caires of the world and idlenes. Therefore ye have to consider what shall be their censure ; and least you eire, ye shall heare some articles that were gathered out of the Acts of the Generali Assemblies ! of the Kirk, as lykewayes ane Act of 9 Parliament K. Ja. 6., wherein is exprest the censures that is due to them. And ye shall understand, whatsoever sentence the Assembly shall thinke fit to pronounce against these, when it is all for their good — for the destruction of their fleshe that their saule may be saved in the day of the Lord. But let us remember that these that are deponed witnesses against them sitt not heir as voiters. Then the Moderatour desyred some of the brethren to give their advyce how they should proceed in that matter. Mr David Dick said — It is weill enough knowne that they, having exeemed themselves from ane particular flocke, and from the censure of Presbitrie, and acknowledged no kind of Judicatories but only the Generali Assembly, whilk I cannot alwayes sitt ; and, therefore, for the wronges they j have done to Christ Jesus our Lord, and to the poore Kirk of Scotland, which they have tossed to and fro now these sixteene moneths ; and, notwithstanding that everie sermon hes bein taught all this tyme hes bein a summonds for them to repentance, yet doe we see no appearance of it, but a con- stant ongoing to bring this Kirk to ruine — stirring up the Prince against the people : therefore, my opinion is, that we declair our zeale for the Lord; and that the last censure which is the meanes to humble proud men, be given out against them though they should laugh at us for so doing ; for since neither the troubling of this poore Kirk, nor our prayers and teares could humble them, it is good the last meane be assayed, and solicite God to voiting. My Lord Lowdon said —The not appearance of these men upon their citation and declyning of this Assembly, prove their contumacie. Moderatour said — Their great guiltinesse is notour to the world ; and yet, notwithstanding of all, they could never cry so much as peccavi; and since we excommunicat all that wer Papists, and disobedient to preachers and pastors, from par- taking of the holy Communion; since they are guiltie of both, why should not the Censure pas against them ? I will read some words of a reverend Father, Mr Andro Melvill. When the Bishop of St Androwes was to be excommunicat, he said, “ That old dragon had so stinged him with avarice, and swalied so exorbitantlie, that he threatened the destruction of the whole bodie, if he were not cutt off.” Then the Moderatour stated the question, which was this — Whither Master Thomas Sydserlf, pretendit Bishop of | Galloway, upon things layd to his charge — the breacking of the Caveats — for preaching of false doctrine, Arminianisme, and Papistrie, and bringing in of the Service Booke — whither he shall be deposed and excommunicat, or not? Then the rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse, being first nominat, answered — I chanced lately to see ane Extract of ane Act of a Generali Assembly holden at Glasgow, A ppryle 26, 1580, wherein is registrat that the Bishops of Isles, Aberdeine, and St An- drowes submitted themselves to the Assembly, and I looked that our oune Bishops should have done the lyke ; but instead of their submission, whereby they might have quenched the fire that they have kindled, they have addit contumacie ; and the said Mr Thomas Sydserff is Incendiarius. Solomon says, “ he that breakes doune ane hedge, a serpent shall byte him;” and they have brocken doune a hedge, and therefore the ser- pent of sharpe excommunication shall byte them. And since he is alse guiltie as any, he deserves excommunication, so abscindatur quern nos perturbatur. Then the rest of the names were called ; and the whole Assembly in ane voite unanimouslie did voit to his deposition and excommunication, except Mr Silvester Lammie, Mr Andro Ker, Mr Robert Baillie, Patrick Bell, who the morne, efter advisement, did voit to his excommunication. Spottiswoode , Bishop of St Andrews. Then the pretendit Bishop of St Androwes was called on and the proces red, and he proven to be guiltie of adulterie, drunkennes, preaching of Arminianisme and Papisticall doc- trine ; and for this cause the whole Assemblie voited to his deposition and excommunication as of before. Bishop of Brechin. Whilk being done, the Clarke proceaded in reading of the Crymes given in by the Committie against Mr Walter Whytefoord, Bishop of Brechin, consisting of five Articles. After that thir and manie other faults proved against him were redde in the Assemblie; ane paper was given in by the Committie, conteaning the probation of his adulterie with Aleson Chrichtone, by the circumstances which were done thereanent ; as who had given her money at his instance, who hes baptized the bairne at his requeist, and sundrie other passages thereof were their commemorat. Which being redde, Mr Alexander Ramsay gave in ane paper, conteaning that ane certaine woman, servitrix to ane Nobleman, had told him, being to come to the Assembly, that shee had lykewise borne ane bairne to the said Bishop, but by his per- suasion had given it to another, which her conscience accusing her for, she was forced to tell : whilk woman he had warned to be present at the Assemblie for the probation of the same. The voyces at last being sought anent his censure, he was adjudged, as the other two, to be deposed from his office, Ministeriall and Episcopall, and lykewyse to be excommu- nicat. After whilk, thankes being given, they dissolved. Sess. 16.— December 8, 1638. Lindsay , Bishop of Glasgoiv. After prayer to God, The Moderatour said — We wer going forward yesterday in the lybell of the Bishops, and the complaints against them. We began at the Bishop of Galloway and then at St An- ' drowes and Brechin, and least it may seeme a neglect that i we are lang in coming to the Bishop of Glasgow, whose residence is so hard by us, let us goe on to the tryell of him. , My Lord Weymes said— The Bishop of Glasgow sent ane j APPENDIX. G85 gentleman to me desyreing me earnestlie to speake with him ; and because I could not goe to him before the Assembly, he intreated me to desyre the Assembly that nothing might be done anent him till I speake with him. Moderatour said — It is good for that cause to take some uther purpose in hand ; and since your Lordship desyres that he may be superceidit, yee shall be pleased to joyne ane or two discreit Members of the Assembly with you to speake with him, for it is better to wound ane then to losse twentie. Confession of Faith — Episcopacy. Then the Moderatour called on the Committie for the Confession of Faith, and desyred my Lord Argyle to speake somewhat anent it. Argyle said — Becaus I believe occasion may fall out that I must of necessitie goe to Edinburgh shortlie, therefore I desyre that the Confession of Faith, wherin I acknowledge myselfe to be tyed, might be explained before I goe, that I may both be a witnesse to what is done and be able also to informe uthers. There are two Confessions. One is the Confession with the explanation : the uther is the Confession, that which breids much questioning ; some referring the ex- planation of it to the Assembly, uthers subscryving it ac- cording to the meaning of it when it was first sett doune, as the Counsell hes done : therefore it is wisdome to consider whether ye take it to consideration as a thing fitting and ex- pedient or not? Or if ye take it (as the Kings Commissioner and these of good qualitie hes done) as it was first subscry ved? If ye take it to your consideration whether Episcopacie should be or not, it may be that more disputable ; for I confesse I have never dyvit deeplie in it. Therefore I humbly represent unto your consideration the lawdable acts and estate of the Kirk at that tyme, and to consider as in Ecclesia constituta. My Lord Rothes said — I thinke it is absolutelie necessar, in regard that my Lord Argyll is to be at ane Counsell day shortlie in Edinburgh, where it is like, the Commissioner will be present, and so his Lordship shall have occasion to give them satisfaction, if we make such grounds heir as shall be answerable to explane the Confession that they themselves have subscryved. Then the Moderatour desyred Lowdoun to declair his mynd. Lowdoun said — It is sufficiently knawne to this reverend Assemblie what great straites this Kirk was redacted to when the Popislie Booke of Service, Cannons, &c., now justlie con- demned, were injoyned as the only forme of Gods publict worschip, and that some of the most sinceare Ministers, Gods faithfull servands, were chargit, under the paine of re- bellion, to receave these Bookes, till by a Bill of Suspensione they obtained some breathing tyme, that men of all rankes might supplicat against these evills. It is knowne to yow also, that by the Bishops malice and misinformation of our Prince, the answer of all our Supplications at Stirling was returned by a proclamation, under the paine of treason, that we should not presume to meit any more to prosequute our desyres ; so that at that tyme we are driven to such exigen- cy that w’e behoved either to fall in rebellion and excom- munication on the one hand, or forfeiting of the way of trueth and true religion and breach of our Nationall Covenant with God on the uther hand ; and we knew not to what hand to turne us, till it pleased God to lead us by his light to the re- newing of our Confession of Faith, which ye know was verie solemnly sworne throw this Kingdome ; and ye know also no meanes hes been left unassayed to have rescindit the same. Then it was taxed to be ane unlawfull combination, whereof we did cleare it sufficiently. That our Supplication of it should be left out, that it might be the more ambiguous in the interpretation, and therefore it necessarilie at this tyme requyres ane explanation, and the way that we have proceidit therin is this : First, we have drawen up some reasons of the necessitie of ane explanation to be made ; next, that we may schunne the neidles dispute of Episcopacie in ahstracto , and of these corruptions that were introduced after they were ex- pelled out of this Kirk, we thought it most necessar to state the question thus : Whither Episcopacie and these corrup- tions be compatible with the doctrine and discipline of the Kirk, as it was established in the year 1580 and 1581 to ad- here ? And this being examined, we hope it will cleare all the scruples about the Confession of Faith, and for this purpose we have drawen up a number of Articles thereanent The Moderatour said — I am glad that my Lord Lowdouns speach hes come to your ears ; and I think that whilk scarres some most, is feare to offend the Kings Majestie. But we are sure, when the Kings Majestie sies we make conscience of our oath, and when it is manifest to his Majestie that we doe nothing but what is sworne to be done in the Confession of Faith enjoyned be himselfe, we hope he will think them good and loyall subjects to him, who have proven so obe- dient to God. Then there were reasons heard by the Clerk, showing j how necessar it was that there should be a necessar explan- ! ation of the Confession of Faith. After the reading of the Reasons, the Clerk read all the Acts of Assembly anent Epispocacy, condemnatory of the ! same, after which, The Moderatour said — Ye have heard a cleare deduction of this purpose; and if it would please my noble Lord Argyle, whom I know hes tane paines to be cleare herein, if it would please his Lordship to declair if he be satisfied, we would be glad to lieare him. Argyle said — Indeed I cannot deny but all this tyme, both before the Confession was subscryvit by the Counsell and since, I have ever found that the question was drawen much narrower nor it was before ; for the greatest question ever since that tyme hath been only concerning the govern- ment of the Bishops, and that will be the greatest question ; and, I think, for the declaration of any uther thing, we did all show that we could be ruled by yow of this Assembly : and, since I am requyred to speake, I must not thinke shame to confesse my ignorance. I neither studied it nor did I see the Bookes of Assembly, and, whenever I was demandit of this, I answered I would not determinatelie say anything till it should come to be considered by a free Assembly, and find what was the constitution of the Kirk. At that time I said, for aught I know, I said, it was a lawfull office estab- lished by Parliament and lawes ; and I could not have thought even when the Commissioner went away, that things had bein so clear as they are, and, for my owne part, it satisfies me fullie — that, according to the Constitution of our Church, the Government established at that tyme, when it was first subscryvit, is verie cleare in my judgement. Moderatour said — There is a lang tyme spent, and there- fore we will proceed to state the question — Whither, accord- ing to the Confession of Faith, as it was professed in the 1580, 1581, and 1590, (I keip the words of the Act of Counsell because it is a clause of the explanation of it,) there be any uther Bishops but a Bishop over a particular flocke? or, Whether there be any to be acknowledged Pastor over Pastors, having preheminence over the brethren ? and, consequentlie, Whither all uther Episcopacie, place, power, or preheminence is to be removed out of this Kirk ? Abjuration of Episcopacie. Then the Rolles were called, and Mr Alexander Kerse said — The true sentence and mean- | ing of the Confession of Faith being made clear by these i Assemblies, showes a incompatibilitie betwixt Episcopall i Government and Presbyteriall Power, that they are to be removed and abjured out of this Kirk. Then the whole Assembly unanimously in one voice, with ! the hesitation of ane allanerlie, voited that Episcopacie should be abjured and removed out of this Kirk. Then the Moderatour spack — I think there be nane of us 1 heir but we have beine oftentymes calling upon the name of God in secrete and open, that he, and he only who was able to doe it, would have beine pleased to stay the course of i defection that was going so fast on. And I think there be , nane of us but it was the earnest desyre and wish of, that ; we might have sene a day to have taken to a consideration, i whether we have transgressed the Covenant of God or not, ! and gane on in a course of defection ; and now he has gran- ted us the day wherein we may call all matters to a reckon- ing, which day we much long for ; and many a tyme have I myselfe besought God to stop this course of defection, and so he hes done. Many are the miseries, burdens, and cala- mities that hes beine upon this poore Kirke thir yeares by- gone ; and w r e are scorned by uthers that it was for the brecke of the Covenant of God ; and we trust that it shall kythe to the world, when w T e are dead, that we have turned unto him and renewed it againe. It rests now that we be thankfull unto our Lord for the same ; and I trust there is nane of us that are come heir with ane honest mynd, but they would have bought this day at a deare rate, and given APPENDIX. 686 j a deare pryce for this voiting, whilk God lies done far be- | yond our deserving or expectation — and our adversaries | neid not to say that it was the voites of a number of Gentle- ! men and Elders that carried it away ; but, blessed be God, that Ministers and everie ane heir present, with great una- | nimitie, hes gone together without any contradiction, which is a matter of admiration, and a wonder of wonders, for the whilk we know not what we shall render unto our graceous j Lord. Therefore we will not medle with any uther purpose, but goe altogether and give heartie thankes unto our Lord for this harmony. Sess. 17. — December 10, 1638. After prayer to God, Moderatour said — We must begin where we endit on Saturday and goe forward in that worke. There is ane great mountaine removed, blessed be our Lord, who have done it. Ye know that in the explanation of our subscribit Confession of Faith, we did oblische ourselves to forbeare the practice of all novations or approbation of the corruptions of the pub- I lict Government of the Kirk till a free Generali Assemblie, I which hes bein done conscientiouslie by many; and now, blessed be our Lord, and blessed be he ten thousand tymes ! and great reason have we to bless him more— and I hope the posteritie that heares of it shall call it a happie work that is past — hes bein done without any contradiction of the voites of the Assembly. Now it rests that we gee to the uther parte — the Inovations alreadie introduced. As for the Ser- vice Booke, Cannons, &c., the Assembly hes declaired their judgement of them. By the innovations introduced, I mean, principallie, the Fyve Articles of Perth Assembly, which now is null, and, by consequence, they must fall ; yet we are obleist to lieare the judgement of the Assembly anent these { novations, and, to the end ye may be prepared for voiting, ye shall heare something red concerning these novations ; which the Clerk tooke and red. After reading the first con- cerning Festival Dayes, The Moderatour said — It is knowne that a festivall and ! holy day hes, first, a cessation frae a’ warkes ; 2, There is some service ordained to be done where there is feasting, re- joyceing, or hilaritie, as it is called. That commonlie is called a festivall day. Ye know the Apostles doctrine concerning these dayes ; and, altho’ there hes bein great dispute about them, I think the brethren heir present are to satisfie what to think concerning them. There is three words that the Apostle uses. The first is to judge of a holy day — that is, to mentaine it in our judgements. The second imports, that we affect it because we esteime of it ; and, thirdlie is, to pro- eeid from our estimations and affection to observe it But, for us, we blesse God that our Reformers hes gone so far on as to purge out those dayes from this land. W e are not to judge of uther reformed Churches, but to consider what is expedient for ourselfes. Mr John Row said— Truelie I am perswadit, in my soule and conscience, that, if the Bishops had not beine raised up amongst us, the memorie of these dayes had bein utterlie abolisched, both out of their owne hearts, and hearts of people ; and therefore let them goe with the Bishops, in Gods name. Then the Clerk proceidit in Kneilling at the Communion ; and, as some things were cited out of the treatise before the Psalme Booke, printed at Aberden, 1625, where prayer is | made against hyreling Papists, that God would confound j them. In these that are printed at Aberden, Papists are left out. In ane uther prayer, these words, “ the Romish Idol,” are left out in reading. Then Doctor Guild, in Aberdene, desyred that the printer might macke accompt of it, who had bein the occasion of that. And after the Clerk had endit concerning kneilling, These considerations (said the Moderatour) are not pre- sented to yow concerning the gesture of Sacrament in gene- rall, or concerning kneilling in uther places, but what we should think of it in Scotland, according to the order of our Church ; neither doe we yet begin to dispute the question, but only this — Whether it ought not to be removed accord- | i n g to the Confession of Faith, and according to the order of the Kirk of Scotland ? Then the Clerk proceidit in reading concerning the privat administration of the Sacraments and Confirmation. Mr John Row said — As for Confirmation, it is one of the I five bastard Sacraments, and is expressed in our Confession; and seeing Episcopacie is condemned, the imposition of their handes falles lykewayes. Moderatour sayes — I remember againe how circumspectlie and warilie we have gone on in this bussines ; not censur- ing uther Churches, but wishes all thinges may be regulat weill in our owne Church. Neither goe we to trouble any mans conscience with idolatrie, superstition, or any uther thing of that kynd. The question shall be this — Whither or not, according to the Confession of Faith as it was professed in the year 1580 and afterward, festivitie dayes, kneeling, &c., are abjured, and ought to be removed ? And if any of the brethren has any thing to say to cleare this matter, say- it. Mr David Dick said — The first year of my ministerie, when thir thinges began to be agitat, we wer tryed with alse subtle distinctions and insinuations as could be ; and, when the matter was brought before our Presbitrie concerning preaching at Zuill Day, the question was made, Whether it was lawfull to preach that day or not ? Whereupon I re- solved to take the narrowest way I could to try if there were superstition in it ; and I waited till the people conveined that day, having no advertisement of any thing to be spocken from me, but only the ordinal’ course of prayers. Ana there I fand the Kirk fuller than ordinar ; quherupon I tooke oc- casion to preach against the idolatrie that was lyke to break foorth ; and this I fand to be exponed athort the countrie for a Zuill preaching ; and out of that I learned to make a dis- tinction betwixt the act and honest intention of some that were slidden aff their feet ; ffor they sett downe the act ane way, and pleadit for them ane uther way, and they were practised a third way. I speake not this to excuse the wrong that God hes gotten, but only to excuse some honest mynds a tanto onlie Lowdoun said — Not only is the Assembly at Perth, which J gives auctoritie to them, null, but if any fear the sanction of j the civill law, they are abrogat by it also, and full power j given to present unto the Parliament what ye thinke farder j fitting to be requyred. And for the thinges themselves, let men think of them as they will. The tries are knowne by their fruits. What fearfull obstractions they have bein, j usher to all thir thinges that are come since ? Moderatour said — Indeed they have made way for the Service Booke, and are principall limbs of it. Mr Androw Ramsay said — I allow altogether and think it ! expedient, that these Articles be removed Now for kneilling at the Communion, it is dissonant to the practice of Christ, and discrepant from the practice of the Kirk. . . . And for privat Baptisme, it is not to be understood when it is ministered in the church or at publict prayers, but when it is ministred in a privat house ; ffor in countrie kirks there is | sett doune preaching in week days. As for Confirmation, I altogether condemne it. Mr Robert Baillie said— For the removing of the Articles ! of Perth out of the Kirk, I lieartilie consent unto it ; but to j remove them as abjured in the Confession of Faith, so that I they all shall be abjured who practised them, I doe not think. Then the Moderatour stated the question of new againe, and desyrit Mr Robert Baillie to tell his opinion when his voice was speired. Then the Rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — All these Articles being at ! once dead in this Church, had bein revived and preached j again by some unlucky birds, becaus it makes for their pur- j pose ; and the more that stuff abounds, it addes the more to the vaine lusture and glorie of their Episcopacie. . . . And so with heart and affection, I send them, and the revivers of them, both ane way : for they are abjured by the Confession of Faith, and therefore are to be removed. Moderatour said — I thinke there is no question ; but if the question had been made to the Generali Assembly when the Confession of Faith was subscry ved, Whither they shall observe Kneilling, Pasche, Zuill, &c., but many would have declaired negativelie ; and if ever they had thought that they should have bein introduced upon this Kirk, they would have bein more particular in it, albeit the generall is cleare enough, as it is cleare by the interpretation of the Confession of Faith according to the Acts of the Kirk, that they are abjured, and therefore to be removed. And, truelie, consider- ing the great woe they have brought in this Kirk, we have verie great reason to rejoyce in Goa, and to give his Majestie heartie thankes that lies brought us to this comfortable con- clusion ; and ye may see how comfortable a thing it is for brethren to meit togither thus in ane Assembly, whereof we have bein depry ved thir many yeares, and that these Articles I APPENDIX. 687 hath bein the caus of this division. It is notour how many honest and faithfull servands of Christ hes bein put from the ministrie, to verie hard shifts, and are not yet admitted, of whom I thinke notice should now be taken ; ffor in all halcion tymes, when sore troubles were blowen over the head of Gods Kirk, there hes bein still notice taken of these whom God made sufferers ; and ye know how many of ourselves hes bein threatened to have bein put from our laces ; and if they had gotten their will, there had bein few onest ministers left in the land ; and therefore we have caus to blesse God that we are delivered from these corrup- tions. Then there was a letter produced from the Bishop of Cathnes, declairing that the caus of his not coming to the Assembly was his bodilie sicknes and his extreame disease, wherein he acknowledges the lawfulnes of the Assembly, and declaires that willinglie he had subscryved the Covenant ; and it was found that he had not subscryvit the Bishops De- clinatour. My Lord Weymes declaired — That he had bein at the Bishop of Glasgow ; and he said that the Bishop regrated that he had put his hand to the Declinatour, and told that he had intention to come to the Assembly, but the Commissioner diswaded him ; for Declinatour, sayes he, they urgit him with it, and he did it in great suddentie, and repents it ; and said he would take his hand from it were it not that it would be disgraceful to him ; and when I desyred him to give two lynes under his hand declairing his submission to the Assembly, he said he had not his wittis about him, and desyred the Assembly that he should be dealt with as those who had submitted themselves. And the Assembly an- swered, that since he was amongst the suhscryvers of the Declinatour, he behoved to have his owne place. Bishop of Edinburgh. Then there was Articles of Accusation given in against Mr David Lindsay, pretendit Bishop of Edinburgh ; and he was called upon and his procurator, and his proces red, and probations thereof. Then Mr Androw Jaffray and Sir John M'Kenzie declaired that they saw him bow to the altar. Mr Andro Kerr and George Dundas saw him dedicat a kirk after the Popishe maner. Then the Rolles wer called. And the whole Assembly in one voyce voited to his de- position and excommunication. Bishop of Aberdeen. Then the Bishop of Aberdeines proces was red, and the probation thereof. Mr John Row declaired, that he subscryved the Protesta- tion given in to the Parliament 1606', and that there was no man more against Bishops in the toune of Stirling nor he ; and he was mightilie offendit at Mr John Grahame, who was taking a bishoprick ; and, since that, all the brethren here resent were in mynd he should be given to the Divell for etraying the liberties of the Kirk ; yet, nevertheles, he was the man that tooke out the Bishoprick out of Mr John Grahames hand. I remember when he subscryvit the Pro- testation, he subscryvit verie neir the end of the paper, and it began to weare ; when he began to get the bishoprick, we said he was going to loupe the dyke Auldbar and Mr David Lyndsay declaired that they, being in the Bishops house, when Auldbar said, “ The only meane to take away abuses and disorders in this Church was a free General Assembly,” he arose in a great flame and passion, and said, “ The first article that he would make then will be to pull the crowne off King Charles head.” Mr Androw Cant sa : d — There entered a contest betwixt Craigievar and this Mr Ballantyne, concerning the patronage of the Kirk of Kinghorne, and was long agitat before the Lords. Alwayes Craigievar presented a Cusing of his, and the Bishop impedit him, pretending that the King had the right, and, consequently, the Bishop of Aberdeine. At last, the Bishop gave Craigievar 160 merks to desist, to the end that the Bishops sone might get the place Then the rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — Besyde that he is guiltie of the breake of the Caveats, there are many grosse faults proven against him ; and therefore, albeit he hes not subscryvit the declinatour, he deserves deposition and excommunication. And the whole Assembly voited the samine, except Mr Richard Inglis, and two or three more, who voited onlie to his deposition. Bishop of Ross. Then the Bishop of Ross was called on, and his procura- tor, and proces red and the probation thereof. The Pro vest of Dumfries said — That when he was in their toune on the Sabbath day, they expected his comeing to the kirk ; yet he came not, but went to a excommunicat Papists house, and stayed all day. Lowdoun said — He was sent up to Court by the Counsell of the Bishops for the Kirk, that order might be tane for Papists; and, instead of that, he brought doune Articles from them, and newis came to this toune to give in the Bishops Declinatour. Then the Rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — He is the vive example and perfyte paterne of a proud Prelat, and enters in composition with the Pope himselfe ; and, therefore, let him have his due deposition and excommunication. And the whole As- semblie, in ane voice, voited the same. Bishop of Dumblane. Then the proces against Mr Ballantyne, pretendit Bishop of Dumblane, and the probatione thereof was red. The rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — I heard, of late, a notable ser- mon by a brother in Edinburgh, wherein he sent him to the land of. Nod : and let him be sent there and arreasted there, with deposition and excommunication. And the whole As- sembly, in ane voyce, except Keir, voited the same. Then the complaint against Mr James Forsyth, minister of Kilpatrick, was given in ; and, efter the reading of the proces, and probation thereof, The Moderatour said — I think there is two great faults in that proces ; that, upon the Saturday before the Communion, (at night,) the Sunday morning, he was writting of surnmonds to send athart his paroche ; and, upon the Sabbath day efter the first sermone, when the tables were going to serve, he brought ane Officer at Armes to the end of the communion table, in presence of 1600 communicants, and caused him reid Letters of Horning. And lykewayes he hes both de- clyned the Presbitrie and the Assemblie. He is alreadie suspendit ; and, therefore, ye are to give your judgement whether he merits deposition or not ? Then the rolles were called, and the whole Assemblie voited to his deposition. Moderatour said — We hope God shall give him repentance, that he may make use of his gifts afterward ; but for the present, I, in name of the Assemblie, discharge him from all function in the ministrie, and declaires his place to be vacant. Sess. 18. — December ij, 1638. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour nominat some for clearing of the proces against the Bishop of Cathnes : Alexander Monro, Mr W illiam Gray, Mr George Gray, Mr George Leslie, Mr John Murray of Pennyland, to conveine at my Lord Eglintouns lodging. Bishop of Orkney. The Moderatour said — There are heir two writes come in my hand concerning the Bishop of Orkney. The ane may be proven by witnes in this house, and the uther is more large, punctualiie deduced and subscryved be 12 ministers of Orkney. If the generall satisfie you not, ye shall heare the particular. Then Mr George Grahame, pretendit Bishop of Orkney, was called on, and his proces red, and probatione thereof. The Moderatour said — Ye see what he hath committed against all the Caveats, and what tyrranicall usurpation he hath exercised above the ministrie, and many uther particu- lars which ye heare in the proces ; and, notwithstanding of this, he hath be his letter offered a kynd of submission to the Assembly ; and, lykewayes, he hes not subscryved the declinatour, and, therefore, it would seeme that he deserves not such a sentence as some uthers. Mr Walter Stewart objected that there was nothing in his letter which could import a formall submission ; but was rather to be understood of his intention to answer to what was to be layed against him. It was answered by my Lord Lowdoun, that it w r as a ma- terial! submission, howbeit not formall 688 APPENDIX. Then the Moderatour answered — Whither or not the pre- tendit Bishop of Orkney, (not having subscryved the decli- natour, and given in a materiall submission to this Generali Assembly,) should be deposed, or have any further censure? To the which, after calling of the rolles, the Assemblie did agree ; and, farder, if he did continow obstinat, he should be excommunicat. Bishop of M urray. Then there was given in aproces against Mr John Guthrie, pretendit Bishop of Murray, wherein it was found that he had transgressed all the Caveats. It was objected that the Assembly could not proceed against him, in respect he was not personallie summondit. The clerk answered that he had summonded him at the Kirk of Edinburgh and Leith, the ordinarie places of citatione in ecclesiasticall causes Mr Androw Cant said he knew him to he a common ryder on the Sabbath day, and lykewayes that he was a prettie dancer, as Mr Thomas Abernethie can testifie. At his daughters brydell, he danced in his shirt. Lykewayes, Mr j Androw said, that he conveyed some gentlewoman to a chappell, to make a pennance, all hair footed. This Mr j Thomas Abernethie declaired to be of trueth. Mr Frederick Carmichaell said, that the Bishop being, by occasion, ryding from the church on the Sunday morning, he | w T as desyred to stay all the night, becaus it was the Sabbath i day. He answered, he would borrow that piece of the day ; from God, and be as good to him some uther gate. The Moderatour said — I think, though he hes not sub- | scryvit the declinatour, yet deposition should passe against I him, if, the Assemblie thinks it good ; and, if he declair his ' contumacie afterward, when the sentence of the Assemblie | comes to his hearing, they will declair that he shall be wor- thie of excommunication, j Then the rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — His not subscryving the de- clinatour deserves some mitigating consideration. Therefore, I think he should be deposed for the present, not exeeming him from excommunication, if he continow obstinat ; for he j deserveth both : and the rest of the Assembly voited the | same Bishop of Glasgow. Then the Bishop of Glasgow was called on, and his pro- ces red. Mr David Lindsay said — I and Doctor Guild went in to him, and we represented unto him the fearfull caice he was in till that he did submitt himselfe to the Generali Assem- bly, and pas from his declinatour. He began to make a ! numeration of the good turnes he had done in favours of this j Kirk against Papists, and requeasted the Assembly, for Gods j caus, that the sentence of excommunication might not be I given out against him till the latter pairt of the Assembly, j The Moderatour said — It would seem that, notwithstanding j the Assembly shall find him worthie of excommunication, I j r et, if betwixt the decreit and pronouncing of the sentence, j he shall give his submission, the sentence of excommunica- tion shall be suspendit The Ministers of Glasgow answered — That there was no man more violent in urging the Service Booke, &c. Mr Alexander Spittal declaired that the said Bishop did I transport two Ministers at his oune hand, without the advycc of the Presbitrie or Paroches. Then the rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — My opinion is, that he be pre- sentlie deposed, and, if he did not submitt himselfe to the j Assemblie before it end, let him be excommunicat. Then the rest of the Assemblie voited that he was worthie I of deposition and excommunication, but that his excommu - nication should be delayed, to try if he would submitt liini- selfe. Bishop of Argyle. Then the pretendit Bishop of Argyle, Mr James Fairlie, was called on, and the Articles proven, before the Committie, wer red : whereon it was found that he had broken the Ca- veats, and uther guiitinesse beside. Moderatour said — There are diverse degries of guiitinesse, and, proportionallie, there should be degries of censures; and, if the Assemblie thinke good, let these be deposed, and, up- on their repentance, let them be receaved to the Ministerie. Then the rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — It is said of one that he was so vigilant a Consul that he sleeped nane all his tyme, for he was entered in the morning and put from it ere night. So was it with this Prelat ; for he slepit but few nights in his Episcopall nest, and was not weill warmed in his Cathedrall chyre, whill both chyre and cuschane was taken from him. Therefore, depose him only ; and, if he obey not the sentence of the Assemblie, let him be excommunicat. The Assem- j blie voited the same. Bishop of the Isles, tye. Then was the Bishop of the Isles called on, and his proces red. The rolles being called, the Assemblie did all agrie to his deposition ; and, concerning the order of his repentance I or excommunication, let it he thought upon afterward. The Assemblie concludit that the Billes should come in only according to the order of the rolles Then there was a proces given in against Mr John M‘Naught, Minister at Chirnsyde ; and, after the calling of the rolles, the Assemblie voited that, for deserting of his Paroche, declyning his Presbitrie, and preaching of Arminian doctrine, he absolutelie should be deposed, and his kirk de- j claired to be vacant. The proces against Mr Francis Harvie was referred to the Commission at Edinburgh. Then Mr Thomas Fosters proces was given in, containeing many grosse and blasphemous poynts ; and, after the calling of the rolles, the Assemblie voited that such a minister as he should be put off in a singular manner, and deposed from the ministerie. Sess. 19. — 12 December 1638. Bishop of Dunhell. After prayer to God, there was a letter red, from Mr Alexander Lindsay, Bishop of Dunkell, wherein he had declaired, that he had subscryved their Covenant — that the Assemblie was lawfull — and that he submitted himselfe to it, and supplicat the Assemblie that he might die a Minister at Lyneydors. After that his proces was red. The Moderatour said — Ye heare what is said against him — the common Episcopall transgressions, and many grosse thinges besyde ; and it would seeme verie hard that he should be continowed in the Ministerie, except he make his publict repentance, and make some discourse of the Corrup- tions of the Kirk ; and, if he be not able to come to the kirk, let some brethren of the Ministerie, of the gravest number, be sent to him to be witnesses of his recantation and repen- tance Mr Androw Cant said — I tyke the Bishops notion weill, that desyres to die a Minister ; but it is to he feared that he have respect to his owne credit and meanes, as in former tymes, and so many poore saules disappoynted. Mr David Dick said — If we believe that Episcopacie is such a wrang to the Crowne of Christ Jesus, and to this Kirk of Scotland, and we believe that the making of so many saules to starve yon way, it is a bloodie sin before God. We must have a speciall cair of restoiring God to his honour; and, therefore, how sicke soever he be, he can write a letter of his full dimission and repentance, utherwayes let him be deposed and excommunicat. Lowdoun said — Howbeit he had sent a formall dimission to the Assembly, it is necessar to use deposition, and, I thinke, what is done heir should be drawen up and sent to him, that he may make his dimission formall, and may re- stoir what he hes wrongouslie detained pertaining to the Kirk. After much reasoning to and fro, The Moderatour stated the question — Whether or not upon his dimission, which is singular, he shall be deposed, not only from his Prelacie, but from all function of the Ministerie ? Then all the rolles were called, and all the Assemblie except 20, resolves upon this — That lie shall be deposed from his Episcopacie ; yea, and from the exercise of all Ministeriall function, till such time as he satisfie by his paines these who are sent unto him by the Assembly Bishop of Cathncs. Then the Articles against the pretended Bishop of Cathnes was given in. After the reading thereof, there was some of bis noble friends desyred that he might he continowed in the functione of the Ministerie since he has acknowledgit the A ssembly and subscryvit the Covenant. Lowdoun said — He behooved to be deposed and suspendit APPENDIX. 689 from any function of the Ministerie, till he take him to a particular flock. The Shirreff of Teviotdaile said — That ho was willing to have tane him to the Ministerie, but the High Commission put him from it, and would either have him keip his Bishop- rick or quyte them both. Lykewayes, within this short tyme, there was a fast indicted for the good of the same caus, and Mr James Burnett, the Minister of the Paroche, would not keip the fast. He keipit it in his own house, and a number of the Paroche resorted to him, and he may doe good in that Paroche, for the people hes a love to him, and a great detest to their Minister The Moderatour said — The question is concerning his de- position ; for I thinke ye doubt not of his Episcopall olfice ; but whether he shall be deposed from all function of the Ministerie? Then the rolles were called, and the whole Assemblie agried upon his deposition from his Episcopall olfice ; and, upon his repentance, to be admitted to the Ministerie. . . . Moderatour said — There are a number of the Bishops who are ordained to be excommunicat, and now we are to con- sider the time when it shall be done — the persones that shall ronounce the sentence — the place where — and the maner ow it shall be done ; or whether the sentence shall be de- layed any longer or not ? Lowdoun said — The delaying of the sentence would seeme to be verie prejudicial!. For these that are absent out of this toun, there is no appearance that we shall get them to deall with; neither is there any appeirance of their repentance as yet who hes subscrivet the declinatour : And becaus we know not what interruptions may be shortlie, it is good to make use of the occasion which God, of his great mercie, offers to red his Church of them ; and it is the justice of God recompenceing their pride, on the ane hand, and the trumpet of his mercie to recall them to repentance, if it be possible, on the uther hand ; and so the delay of such a good worke seemes to be verie dangerous. As for the place, where ye are seemes to he verie fltt ; and for the persone, doubtlesse it must be yourselfe who is the mouth of this Assembly, to pronounce the Judgement of the Assembly against them, that this Kirk may be delyvered from the thraldome it was in. The Moderatour said — There was no practice of the Kirk for that, and that Bishop Adamsone was not excommunicat by the Moderatour of the Assembly. Nevertheless, the Assembly desyred that the Moderatour himselfe would take it upon him, and that he should delyver a Sermon in the same church the morne at Ten hours, and let them be excommunicat. This was concludit be the con- sent of the whole Assemblie This day being fixed for the solemn Deposition of the Pre- lates, , the Moderator, Mr Alexander Henderson, took for his text, Psalm cx. 1 : — “ The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy foot- stool and though he had only the evening of the previous day to prepare himself for the important subject he undertook to handle, he preached an eloquent and impressive discourse on the Scriptural Constitution of the Government of the Church of Christ ; applying the principles laid down, to the defence of thfe Presbyterian Model. Thereafter he pronoun- ced the following Sentence of Excommunication. “ Since the eight persons before-mentioned have declared themselves strangers to the communion of saints, to be with- out hope of life eternal, and to be slaves of sin, therefore we — the people of God, assembled together for this cause — and I, as their mouth, in the name of the Eternal God, and of his Son the Lord Jesus Christ, according to the direction of this Assembly, do excommunicate the said eight persons from the participation of the Sacraments, from the commun- ion of the visible Church, and from the prayers of the Church ; and, so long as they continue obstinate, discharges you all, as ye would nor be partakers of their vengeance, from keep- ing any religious fellowship with them ; and thus give them over into the hands of the devil, assuring you, in the name of the Lord Jesus, that except their repentance be evident, the fearful wrath and vengeance of the God of Heaven shall overtake them even in this life, and, after this world, ever- lasting vengeance.” After in calling upon the name of God, A noble Lord, my Lord Montrois, who did formerlie undertake, for my Lord Wigtoune, that he would come and declair his meaning to the Assembly anent his subscryving I to the kings Covenant, did give in a letter of excuse, come from my Lord Wigtoune, wherein he declaires that he is myndit to come to the Assembly whensoever his busines can ! permitt him, and give them all satisfaction. After this, there was ane proces produced against Mr j William Annand, sometyme minister at Air, for maintaine- | ing saints dayes, and many poynts of erroneous doctrine. . . I Mr John Fergussone and the Provest of Dumbartone, gave ' a large testimony of his scandalous lyfe and erroneous dec- j trine. Then the rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said — I know he subscrivit our Cov- j enant, and efter resedit from it, and so he provit a Proteus, J ckangeing himself into all figures. Therefore, let him be de- ! posed and then he will be in a figure that he was never in before. The whole Assemblie did all agrie that he should be de- posed, and the way and order of his censure to be remitted to the Presbitrie of Air. Mr Andro Rollock gave in his supplication, declareing that out of meir ignorance he had subscrivit the Declinatour, being brought up with the Constitution of England Church ; but now, having gotten farder light from God, and intelli- gence from Acts of Generali Assemblies, with greiff of heart and conscience, declynes it altogether, and adheres to the acts and constitutions of this present Assembly ; and, there- fore, did earnestlie supplicat that he might deleit his name from the declinatour, which the Assembly grantit, upon con- dition that he should make publict declaration of his recanta- tion in his paroche kirk, which he willinglie condiscendit unto. Lowdoun said that the favour granted to him who had been brought up in the Kirk of England, should not be a preparative to temporizers among ourselves, and so is pure negations, and uthers are prave dispositions, or wilfull igno- rance. The Moderatour said — Fra we be delivered fra these dis- eases that hath oppressed the whole bodie, I hope we shall have greater health hereafter; for laying aside aines the hope of Episcopall dignitie and the fear of Episcopall tyrannie, I hope men shall labour to be more carefull and faithfull in their ministrie ; and since God hes moved your heart, Mr Rollock, to declyne your declinatour, I hope ye will not stand to give the most publict declaration that can be; to wliilk he willinglie condiscendit. After this Doctor Hamilton, procurator for the Bishops, was called on, and the proces red and the probation thereof. Then the rolles were called. Mr Alexander Kerse said— He hes bein verie strict in ur- ging their novations, and he hath bein verie officious etnimium diligentice in agitating : therefore, since the trie is cutt doune, let the woodbine fall with it and be buried : therefore let him be deposed. The whole Assemblie voited the same. The Moderatour said — Since this Assemblie finds that he deserves deposition, I, as the mouth of this Assembly, dis- charges him from all function of the ministerie, exercise of discipline, or administration of the Sacraments, and declaires his place to be vacant ; and ordaines him to make his repen- tance at Edinburgh, and if he disobey and did not passe from his declinatour, that they should proceed against him to ex- communication. Then there was a proces given in against Mr Thomas Mac- kenzie, Archdeane of the Chanonrie of Ros, who for his for- nication, drunkennes, marrying of adulterers, &c. After the calling of the rolles, the Assembly voited to his deposition, and if he did not satisfie in repentance, that he should be excommunicat. Mr George Muschet, minister of St Androwes, called upon and his proces red, and delayed till the next day. Sess. 21 . — December 14, 1638. After in calling upon the name of God, Mr John Smart showed his Commission from Caithnes, to the end he might have voit in the Assembly in the place of the former commissioner, who is gone hame sick, which was accepted, and his name written in the roll. Then Mr Androw Sheipheard declaired, that of meir igno- rance he had subscryvit the declinatour, and was deiplie humblit for his oversight, and protested solemnjie that except that ane oversight he did never, nor never would give way to any divisive motion ; and therefore desyred earnestlie that 4 s APPENDIX. 690 i he might raze his oAvne name out of the declinatour, which the Assemblie granted, and ordained him to make significa- tion thereof in. the pulpit of Dundie. Moderatour said — It is expedient, if the Assemblie think good, to appoynt Commissions through the Kingdome, for discussing of Complaints and Lybells given in against Min- isters. Then the Assembly appoynted Commissions in sev- erall places of the Kingdome. The Moderatour said — If the Church were well established in her owne power and jurisdiction, there could be no neid of such Commissions; therefore, let us labour to get the ancient jurisdiction of the Kirk restoired to its full power, and Presbitries, Provinciall and Nationall Assemblies, to their owne jurisdictione : for the Generali Assemblies cannot give to the Commissions to consider new processes, but such as they cannot convenientlie decyde themselfes, and in such partes of the countrie where Provinciall Assemblies cannot be had. The Moderatour said — We have beine treating hitherto of matters of verie great importance, howbeit, it hes bein only a primitively sort of dealing ; and now we are to fall upon •positive acts. Therefore, I will intreat yow to renew your former patience in waiting upon a comfortable conclusione to this worke : for having banished out ane evill order, if we labour not for ane good order, it may justlie be said, ane evill order had beene better nor nane ; and therefore resolve to stay till some good order be established, that ye may know how to carry yourselfes in tymes comeing. Next, there is a verie great necessitie upon many considerations, that there be something done concerning the Confession of Faith, that hes beine subscry vit with the explanation of it; and concern- ing that Confession alse subscryvit by some few at command of the Counsell; and it were good that some few were separat for it that if it were possible — Lowdoun said that there is something emergent now lately come foorth, that gives the greater reason to aveir to that poynt; for now, when the Assembly hes interpreted the Con- fession, to whom only it was referred as competent judge, and lykewayes many of the honourable Counsell having de- claired their meaning is to keepe in these things that are con- trarie to the Assemblies explanation, so there is a necessitie of some further explanation for takeing away of all scruples. In the meane tyme, my Lord Wigtoune came and declaired, in the face of the Assembly, that he had put his hand to the Confession of Faith out of a resolution to adhere to the re- ligion in doctrine and discipline, as it was professed in 1580, when the Kirk was in puritie ; and this I speake not out of ostentation, but from certaine knowledge and zeale to Gods caus, and will adhere unto it whilst a droppe of blood re- maines in my veins. For the which declaration, the Moderatour and whole As- semblie rendered his Lordship heartie thankes, praying God to assist his Lordship so to doe. After this the Moderatour said — I perceave there is a uni- versall regrait among Ministers who are put to the extraor- dinary charges by coming from Oorkney”, Caithnes, Suther- land, and uther remote places, that their meane portione is not able to beare. Therefore, I desyre that some course may be taken how their charges may be provydit, that they may attend the Nationall Assemblies and uther meetings of the Kirk, since they have a great zeale to give a testimonie to the trueth. Therefore, I would desyre the Noblemen and Elders to consider of it ; and I hope it shall not be interpreted to be bryberie where there hes bein too much in former pre- tendit Assemblies ; and we are now stryving to returne to our old customes used before Episcopacie, some whereof we have begun — as this of Ruleing Elders to have pairt with us in guyding the affaires of the Kirk, which how profitable a thing it is, may appeare by the much helpe that hes contri- buted to us this year past. Neither neid we feir thir usur- patione, since we hope for Generali Assemblies to beat doune corruptions of that kynd. My Lord Lowdoun said — It deserves to have a present course tane for it, and its certane the Generali Assemblies is but the representative Kirk of this Kingdome. E verie Min- ister that comes heir, comes not as a Minister onlie, but re- presenting the paroche or Presbitrie they come from ; and therefore it were fitt that the Elders and paroche did beare the burdene of their charges. Balmerino said — That was one of the overtures which they had to give in, and therefore would come in to be considered heirafter. Then Mr George Wischart, Minister of St Androwes, was called on, and his proces red, wherein he was accused for rayling against the Covenant, and saying that he should never come in his pulpit if the Covenant were red in it; lykewayes that he had maliciouslie deserted his flocke for the space of 8 monthes, whereas the Act of Dundie beares deprivation upon 40 dayes absence. Lowdoun said — His non residence will be sufficient to depose him ; and the question is only that he was not cited ; but, according to the Act, his non residence will depose him absolutelie, becaus he went away without advertising the Generali Assemblie. The Moderatour said — It seemes to me that it will be hard for the Assembly to declair his place vacant ; but, if St An- drowes will take the hazard to find out ane uther who will be willing to supplie his place, they may doe it ; for there must be either dimission or deprivation before it be now filled there. There can be no sentence of deprivation against him, till he be either cited, or his proces closed before the Presbitrie ; and, in the meanetyme of the proces going on against him in the Presbitrie, and citation used, if he com- peare, it is thought he can give no sufficient reason, and so will be worthie of deprivation. The Assemblie condiscendit to the Moderatours motion, and appoynted that Sanct Androwes shall provide for them- I selves a Minister, and that Mr George Wischart, upon such considerations, shall be cited, and the Presbitrie to proceed against him. Then there was a supplication presented from St Androwes for provyding of their Ministery, and many pregnant reasons used by them, wherefore they should have ane able Minister, and that their necessitie was considerable, in respect of their corrupt Universities, and the dangerous fruites that a corrupt Minister}* had brought foorth amongst them. Then it was asked whom they had sett their eyes on, and the Commis- sioner from St Androwes nammat Mr Andro Flock and Mr Alexander Hendersone. The Commissioner of Edinburgh answered — That he had commission from the town of Edinburgh to supplicat for the ! transportation of Mr Alexander Hendersone to Edinburgh, alleadging lykewayse that the toune of Edinburgh had the priviledge of being first provydit in their Ministerie. Moderatour said — Let there be no contest for me, for I | have bein thir 24 yeares Minister at Lewchars ; and now I I am growing ane old, withered, and dry tree, and it is pittie to transport such a ane, least it bring foorth no fruite. And I doe declair ex animo to this Assembly, thp,t, although I have ane earnest desyre, if I had any thing in me to imploy it for the good of the Kirk of Scotland, yet I think 1 am able to doe more good heir where I am nor any where els ; therefore I intreat the Assembly that some may be appoynted to hear my just reasones that I have to give in, why 1 should not be transported. , Lowdoun said — Becaus the desyre of the parties will be eager on both sydes, therefore, let some indifferent men be i chosen by the Assemblie to heare the reasons of the Com- I missioners of Edinburgh and St Androwes both, and your j owne reasones lykewayes. The Commissioners of Edinburgh objected, that there could j be no committie chosen for that effect, becaus they had al- readie chosen him to be their Minister, and, lykewayes, they j had the priviledge to transport any Minister of the kingdome. Mr David Dick, Mr Andro Cant, Mr James Bruce was ordained to name a committie. Then there was a proces given in against Mr Hary Scrym- soure, wherein he was accused for abuseing the church yaird, break of the Sabbath day, and for venting of sundrie tenets of false doctrine. The said Mr Hary gave in a most humble supplication, i and, with many teares, confessed sundry of his faults, and shew himselfe to be penitent, that he was most willing to j undergoe whatsover censure the Assemblie could lay upon 1 him, to restoir God to his glorie. humblie supplicating that he might be continowed in the Ministerie, and not depryved. The lairdes of Newtoun and Waughtoune, his parochiners, j urged still his deposition, according to the Acts of the Kirk, j Moderatour said — That it were good that he give a testi- monie of his unfenzied repentance to his parochiners, and stay with them and build up that whilk he had throwine doune, if his paroche could consent. Newtoun answered that he might be profitable in ane uther place, but he could not be profitable there. My Lord Burlie said — I wishe this Assemblie may doe APPENDIX. 691 I everie thing on good grounds ; and, for my owne parte, I cannot be satisfied unles he he deposed, and, upon his repent- ance, let him merite favour. Moderatour said— If he be deposed, I hope he shall not find the weight of it long; and, since this Assemblie can find no uther way for him but deposition, let him make his re- ! pentance, and come in before the Presbitrie, and receave a warrand from the Presbytrie, and preach any where, and, at the first occasion of a paroche, receaved and admittit ; and let us joyne together to help this our penitent brother where he may have a ministerie. Then there was a proces given in against Mr Robert Hamilton, Minister at Lesmaliago, and the probation thereof before the Presbitrie of Lanerk ; and it was found that he had brocken the Sabbath, and taken lends from his paroch- iners ; deteined the penalties of delinquents ; banished some of his parochiners out of his paroche for not kneilling at the Communion ; that he had preached Arminianisme, and de- clyned the Assemblie. Mr Alexander Somervill said that he behaved liimselfe verie undecentlie before the Presbytrie, and called some of his parochiners deboasched villanes, in face of the Presbitrie. Moderatour asked— If he did cleare himselfe before the Presbitrie concerning Universal Grace? Mr Alexander said he gave in ane writt to the Presbitrie; but we layd it by in respect it contained not a direct answer, but was full of subterfuges and dubious expressions, and he alleadgit that he ventit it only by way of disputation. The Moderatour said — AVhen he passed his tryells in the Colledge of St Androwes, he was suspect of it, for he was a scholler of Wedderburnes ; therefore the Presbitrie ordained him to make his theames upon that poynt, and they wer compted orthodox ; but it is not well favoured that he yet smellis of it. Lowdoun said — There is ane thing cleare in his challenge, and he grants it — that he hes tane the defence of these arti- cles anent conformitie, and hath made it a reasone of putting many of his people out of his paroche, and surelie there was never any of them refused to joyne with him but out of con- science, and still he tooke penalties from them to wearie them. Moderatour said — There is no question but he hes bein verie forward in these causes ; alwayes some of his friends lookes for him this night ; and since it is the chief of all our desires to gaine the man, let us use no preposterous course, but delay this matter till Monday. Mr James Flecke having produced his theses before the Assembly, according as he was ordained the day before, an- ent the universalitie of Christs death, the Assembly ordained him to goe home to his congregation and Presbitrie, and sa- tisfie them in alse solemn a manner as can be, and declair to them this judgment of the Assembly ; and if he failzie here- in, that he be summonded before the Commission at Dundie. A question was proponed to the Assembly anent Mr R. Nairne, minister at Carmichael, who, being imposed upon the paroche lately by the Bishop against the heart both of the paroche and Presbitrie, is now fallen in a ffrenzie, and hes lyen under the phisicians hands ane quarter of a year ; and the paroche desyres the Assemblies verdict of it. The Assembly committs to the Presbitrie. Doctor Panters proces was produced and delayed till the morne. Sess. 22. — December 15, 1638. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour said — We were speaking of ane of the Doctors of Divinitie in the Colledge of St Androwes, viz. Dr Panter. His proces was red the last day in the Assem- bly, and if ye will, ye shall heare it againe. The trueth is, he was oft tymes called before the Presbytrie, but did never compeir ; and therefore ye have to consider whether his pro- ces shall he red over againe and decydit heir, or referred to the Commission of St Androwes. Auldbar says — He thinkes himselfe to be a pryme man, and the sentence heir will stryke more against him then the sentence of any privat Commission. Let this Assemblie judge if such a man should be a Doctor of Divinitie in ane of the most pryme Colledges of this Kingdome ? My Lord Balmerino said — We have beine searching over the Acts of the Assemblies, and we find that which may be discussed in Presbitries or Assemblies provincial!, shall not trouble the Generali Assembly, and this Act 1 desire the Clerk to read. After the reading of it, The Moderatour asked some of the brethren whether his proces should be closed heir or referred to the Commission at St Androwes? Mr Robert Douglas, Mr Androw Cant, Mr Robert Baillie j answered — There are alse grosse and vyle thinges proven against him as might merite deposition heir, yet let him goe to the Commission at St Androwes. Then the Commissioners of Edinburgh presented a Sup- lication from the toune of Edinburgh, for provision of their irkes with able ministers, alleadging that they not only had ; the priviledge to choyce their ministers, but lykewayes that their Bill should be first heard. The Moderatour answered — The Bill of St Androwes hes bein first heard alreadie, and therefore it is reason that some answer he given to it, and becaus my name was heard in it, I desyreit my thrie reverend brethren, Mr David Dick, Mr Androw Cant, Mr James Bruce, to thinke on it. I hope they will heare my reasons, and by my reasons they will give satisfaction to the Assembly, to whose judgment I confesse I must submitt myselfe ; but I am verie confident of their wisdome and prudence, that they will heare me to the full in such a matter that concernes me so nearlie. Then the Supplication of the toune of Edinburgh was put in the Clerks hand and red, containing many pregnant rea- sons for provyding their kirks — as that Edinburgh was most exposed to the tryell of the corruptions that are imposed upon this Church— that they were the centure of this kingdome — that they were the learnedest auditorie in the kingdome — j that much dependit upon their example of yielding or not I yielding to the corruptions of the tyme — and that her example j prevailed with many uthers, as appeared at this tyme bypast I — that her Presbyteries was ever esteemed the most pryme j in this Church ; and for that cause, the indiction of the dyet of Assemblies hes bein committed to it : — That she is first subject to all temptations, as hes appeared by urging the Service Booke first upon her — the resorting of Noblemen, Ministers, &c., and their continowall meetings is there. By all thir, and many moe reasones, neidlesse to be relaited heir, did they urge the transportation of Mr Alexander Hender- sone from Lewchars to Edinburgh. Moderatour said — I will never goe to answer any of these arguments used heir with such multiplication, and a great deall of rhetorick, for provydeingtlie toun of Edinburgh — for it is verie reasonable it be weill provydit ; but for my oune parte, all these reasons doe deswade me from granting their desyre ; and since there is such great thinges requyred of a minister that is there, surelie my insufficiencie makes me thinke everie argument militat againes my going there, how- soever they be strong for provyding the toune of Edinburgh. Then there was some brethren appoynted for hearing of Mr Alexander Hendersone his reasons, that they might pre- sent them to the Assembly the next day. Sess. 23. — December 16, 1638. A fter in calling upon the name of God, Moderatour said — We -were yesterday about some Com- plaints ; and it is expedient that they should be considered in Provincial Assemblies whether they might be heard ; and where they might not be heard, that they should be consid- ered by Commissions appoynted be the Generali Assembly. And I think it will be hard to get Provinciall Assemblies constitut as could be wisched ; therefore it feares me there must be both — that is, Commissions for dispatching thir great matters in hand, and lykewayes Provinciall Assemblies, which is to be thought upon by the Assemblie when they shall be had. Only I would heare the judgement of the Assemblie — it being a universall thing for the good of the whole Church, and likewise a redding of us of the burdings of many parti- culars. My Lord Cassiles said — We looke for a Generali Assem- blie so shortlie, that it would seeme no neid of Provinciall Assemblies before the Parliament, becaus ministers who have attendit heir so long cannot spend all their tyme in going to Provinciall Assemblies ; and in the meane tyme, let Commissions be despatching matters. Then the Commissions were appoynted. Then Mr David Lindsey, Mr John Robertsone, and uther aged men in the ministerie, were appoynted to take inspec- tion of the Bookes of the Assemblie, and to try wher thir 692 APPENDIX. provinciall Assemblies hes bein holden, which accordinglie they did, and gave in a roll the next day. The Commissioner of Kinghorne gave in a complaint in name of that Burgh, in respect of the great prejudice they sustained by the Episcopall tyrannie in removing of a faith- full minister, Mr John Skinner, and him whom they now have being ane old man. They crave of the Assemblie ane helper . — Fiat ut petitur. The Commissioners from the Presbitrie of Turrey gave in a Supplication, declairing, That whereas Alexander Ander- j sone and Robert Davidsone, in Turrey, having fallen in ane delinquencie at a mercat in Aberdeine, and for that were conveined before the Bishop, and payed 522 merks of penal- | tie, which should have been bestowed in mending the high wayes betwixt Turrey and Aberdeine, notwithstanding they delivered it to the Bishop, whilk he detaines, and the parties i are not called for to make their repentance. The Assemblie ordaines the delinquents to make their re- pentance in Turray and Aberdeine, and the penaltie to be j restoired. Then there was a Supplication presentit in name of the Kirk of Corspairne, which Church lyes in a very desolat wildernes, containing 500 communicants. It was builded by 1 some gentlemen to their great expenses, only out of love to ' the salvation of soules of a number of barbarous ignorant '■ people, who heirtofoir hes lived without the knowledge of God, their children unbaptized, their deid unburied, and could no way for getting mentainance to a minister but to betake them to the sympathizing of zealousness, as the Assembly : would think expedient. 1 My Lord Cassiles said— Their cace is verie considerable, and deserves helpe. The cace of their soules is verie dan- ' gerous, being 15 or 16 myles from a church ; and now, since God hes given them the benefite of a kirk, I think verilie a | verie little helpe of the Presbitries of the kingdom would ! give them a competent meanes for a minister, especiallie see- ing they have alreadie provydit something themselves. This matter was committed to my Lord Lindsey, Earle of i Cassiles, Shirreff of Teviotdaile, Mr William Dalgleische, Mr Alexander Kerse, and Mr John Home, to consider upon j till Monday. Then the Moderatour asked Mr David Lindsey, who had 1 the charge of the Billes, if there were any moe to be pre- sented ; who answered, none but two, which they hoped to | discusse themselves. Moderatour said — God be thanked ! We have now neir 1 endit all the billes ; and as we began with important bussi- 1 nes, so we must end with great bussines lykewayes ; and therefore ye must have patience, and I hope with speid we shall goe through them all, and so returne to our places. Therefore, if there be any in this Assembly that have any overture to give in concerning Ruleing Elders, let them come to my Lord Balmerinochs house at 4 o’clock. The Clerke desyred these that had given in their billes to the committie, and who were referred to the Commissions up and downe the countray, let them goe to Mr David Lindsey and get their billes, that they may raise summands upon them to compier before the Commissions. The houre of meiting upon Monday is 10 houres. Sess. 24 . — December 17, 1638. After in calling upon the name of God, those who were appoynted to meit about the Kirk of Carsfairne, declaired that they had mett and taken consideration of the estate of the kirk ; and, finding that the pairties that posesses the teynds cannot be moved to give provision, we tliinke it expe- dient they be helped ane uther way ; and becaus we thinke it expedient that the whole kingdome be not troubled with it ; therefore we thinke the bounds of this side of Tay, including Fyfeand Fortlie, will be sufficient. Ihen Mr John Bell, elder, minister of Glasgow, presented a supplication to the Moderatour ; and, after he had red it, Moderatour said — There is heir a reverend and aged brother, whom we should all honour — for gray haires, for a crowne of glorie — that hath approven himselfe to God in his Church, and to the people of this cittie in a speciall maner ; and now, finding his natural weaknes increasing, though he hath vigour of mynd as yet, and fearing and apprehending his dissolution drawes near, he hes represented to yow heir a supplication for a helper in the ministerie, and desyres it may be heard with the first. Then the Clerke red his supplication, containing a earnest | desyre, for many reasons, that his brother, Mr David Dick, [ minister at Irwing, might be admitted to joyue with him in the ministerie. My Lord Eglintoun said — Albeit Edinburgh have power to transport ministers, I understand not how Glasgow hes. Moderatour said — They have power to supplicat. Eglintoun said— Let the question be, whether Mr John Bell may have a helper or not ? And the Provest of Glasgow said — Not only the generall doe we supplicat but for the particular also. Mr David Dick said — This was motioned to me yester- night, and I have bein laying the matter before God, as it becomes me to doe ; and I desyre that my particular reasons J why I should not be transported be considered by the 1 brethren of the place where I live, be reason of my long ac- quaintance and tryed affection betwixt me and my flocke and j my brethren of the Presbitrie. I have ane open doore of doing good above any pairt elsewhere. 2. In the tyme of my trouble by the Bishop, my Lord of Eglintoun, and the brethren of our Presbitrie, was put to much trouble to have me restoired to my ministerie there ; and, therefore, I am tyed to his Lordship and to them all. 3. Be reason of my professed intention of a particular exposition of Scripture, I : cannot be for such a learned auditorie ; and before ever I can take roote in any uther soyle where I may be fruitfulle, the tyme of dissolution will draw on. Lowdoun said — Beside these reasons given in be Mr David, ye shall consider, that albeit some men have had but particular flockes, yet they have both done als much good, and holden off evills as if they had bein in more eminent places. The Moderatour said— This is certaine — churches must be planted ; and, for that end, there is a necessitie of transpor- tation of some to Edinburgh, St Androwes, Glasgow, Dundie, which cannot be provydit with expectants. Argyle said — Though I have not ane voit heir, yet I crave : libertie to speake my judgment. Truelie the business is both 1 grave and weightie ; for the question is now betwixt the countrie and the tounes, whether there be a necessitie of transplanting ministers from corners of the kingdome to tounes, or let them rest where they are? And I think it ! deserves this consideration : let everie ane that pretends in- terest why it should not be, produce their reasons in write, that the Assembly may consider of them. The Moderatour said — Let it be referred to a committie. Eglintoun said — He would not consent : for, said he, if I 1 submitt my cloake to a committie, it may be" they take a newke of it. Then there was a Committie nominat: — A Complaint anent the Kirk of Airth was referred to the Presbitrie of Stirling. Moderatour said — When we are thinking upon such old fruitfull tries as reverend Mr John Bell, we should also be thinking upon some young plants also, that we may know j our oune strenth ; therefore it is necessar that a number of expectants be taken up, both these that hath beine out of the ministerie for not conforme to Perthes Articles, and these that wer holden out and were forced to take them to ane uther sort of life, waiting for better dayes, and these that are now sprung up and are hopefull youthes, whom we trust who shall supplie our places who are old. Then the Commissioners of Dundie gave in a Supplication for the transportation of Mr David Lindsey, Parsone of Bel- helvie, to Dundie. The Moderatour desyred the Provest of Glasgow, with some other of the burrowes, to conveine this night, and thinke upon some overture for the change of the mercat j dayes in Burghes from the Monday and Saturday, becaus they be great profanation of the Sabbath, and wer occasioned, that their consideration might be recommendit to the consid- j eration of burrowes, which the Provest of Glasgow promised to doe. 'There was given in the testimonie of the diligence of some of these to whom the Answer of the Bishops Declinatour was given in, which is insert before the Declinatour. Sess. 25 . — December 18, 1638. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour said — There is ane particular heir would be considered before we went forward, and this is about the forme of repentance of the pretendit Prelats, Dunkell and uthers, subscryvit alreadie, and uthers have not yet subscry- APPENDIX. 693 vit : therefore I will tell my oune judgment and the judg- ment of uther members of the Assembly who have conferred with me. For the Bishop of Murray, let the Presbitrie of Edinburgh have power to cite him to compeir before them, and receave his injunctions the tyme of the Provincial! As- sembly, where he shall receave the maner of his repentance ; and if he compeir not, they shall proceid against him with the censure of the Kirk. As for the Bishop of Orkney, let him receave the matter of his repentance of the Presbitrie of Orkney, and let them appoynt some of thir members to re- ceave it. For the Bishop of Argyll, that he he cited to com- peir in Edinburgh at the Provinciall Assemhlie, to receave direction for the maner of his repentance there. For the Bishop of the lies, that he he cited before the Commission in Irwing to make his repentance. And in case they obey not the Presbitries where they dwell, proceid against them to the sentence of excommunication. My Lord Lindsey said — If any of these who are excom- municat be content to make their repentance, shall they not thereupon be presentlie receaved ? Moderatour said — They may weill wait upon the next Generali Assembly ; or if any of them be neir the poynt of death, and apprehending the terrors of God, let the Presbi- trie lowse them from the sentence, if they be readie to cry out with Bishop Adamsone — “ Lowse them, lowse them !” Mr J ohn Home said — In that case, it wer weill done to receave them ; but let them leave a testimonie in write of their repentance, as Bishop Adamsone did. Moderatour said — There are divers seeking transportations, and, among others, Mr David Dalgleishe, Minister of Cow- par, who truelie lies great reason, if we will consider and compair his gifts with his meanes. He desyrit the benetite of it be transportation ; which the Assembly allows. Moderatour said — Anent our cariadge toward excommuni- cat persones, I thinke civill affaires may be done with them — a naturall duetie done to them, but civill dueties verie spar- inglie. Moderatour said — We left about the Bishops declinator and protestation, and we appoynted some to make answer. Now, consider whither ye will heare a litle tast of their an- swer till the rest be ryper for the presse, and let it he remitted to some brether to be perfyted before the Commission close in Edinburgh, and put to the presse. Withal, ye know there would be a consideration had of the declaration that it hath pleased the Kings Majesties Commissioner to publische and print, that ane answer may be had to it, and such lyke, that ane answer be made to the protestation given in be him. There is a great Booke fund to be authentick, containing many Acts of Assemblies, belonging to Mr William Scott, in Cowpar. I thinke the Assemblie w’ill joyne together to make him rander the same to the Assembly, and that a Letter be written to him, subscry ved be the Clerk of the A ssembly, to send the book heir. The Shirreff of Teviotdaile said — There is a foull scandall in our countrie — a fellow that lies lived in incest with his wifes sister; and when Mr Thomas Abernethie was proceed- ing against him, he was prohibited by the Bishops — referred to the Presbytery. A supplication was presented from the Paroche of Car- donald, becaus of their distance from their paroche kirk, to witt, 12 myles. They desyred a visitation, to the end that a kirk might be planted — referred to the Presbytery. Mr Robert Wilkie declaired that he had spocken with Mr Robert Hamilton, minister at Lismahago, and that he was resolved to give satisfaction to the Assembly in many thinges, and therefore intreated that he may have libertie to advyse him till the morne. Then the Commissioner of Edinburgh urgit againe the reading of their supplication, and cravit the voites of the Assembly. The Commissioner of St Androwes desyrit that becaus his supplication was first given in, it might first have ane answer. The Moderatour said — I am sorie that this Assemblie, conveined about so great affaires, should spend any tyme about any thing wherein my name is named; for it is knowne to many of yow how small my portion is, and I pray God their earnestnes for me make it not lesse. I humblie intreat this Assemblie to judge according to knowledge, and not ac- cording to the solicitation of any, and I have alreadie sub- mitted myselfe to the judgment of this Assemblie, and not onlie so, but I acknowledge they may command me to goe where they will : therefore I will remove myselfe out of the Assemblie, and let ane uther Moderatour supplie : onlie this, I certifie the Assemblie — if ye goe not on unanimouslie — if the ane half be ane way and ane uther half ane uther way, I will neither consent nor take it as a calling from God to re- move. Then Mr James Bonar, who was chosen Vice-Moderatour, said — I hope it be the unfeingzied desyre of all our hearts, whom God hes called together in this Assemblie, to seik the honour of God and the advancement of the kingdome of his Sone Jesus Christ in this land ; and I hope it is not onlie the desyre of the Assemblie in generall, but also the mynd and meaning of these Commissioners from Edinburgh and Sanct Androwes, who now doe supplicat, and if it can be qualified that the transportation of Mr Alexander Henderson, our Moderatour to Edinburgh, will serve more for the advance- ment of the kingdome of Jesus and good of the common earand, I hope yee from St Androwes will applaud ; or if the contrare be qualified, I hope these from Edinburgh will also rest satisfied. Then the Commissioner from St Androwes gave in a great j number of reasons, why the said Mr Alexander should be transported, which were all answered at large by Mr Andro Ramsay, neidless to insert heir. The Laird of Erlishall made protestation that he should not be transported at all from Lewchars, for many reasons. Lowdoun said — Since we are to prosesse ane end, let the publict head be so prevalent with us, that no predominant affection cary us away. Then the Supplications from the toune of Edinburgh, and all | their multitude of reasones, were againe read. Then the M o- j deratour desyred those who were appoynted to heare the said I Mr Alexander his reasons, and to declair what they had done. Mr David Dick answered — It pleased our Moderatour to lay furth his reasons before us, wherefore he should not be transported from Lewchars, and by them we were made sen- sible how great a burthen he tooke of any other motion ; alwayes, after in calling upon the name of God, and hearing of all his reasons at leasure, our resolution ran on this — that the present necessitie requyred his presence at Edinburgh. Moderatour said — Ye have heard many considerable rea- sons on all hands ; therefore now, the question is, whither Mr Alexander Hendersone shall be transported to Edinburgh or St Androwes ? Then the rolles w r ere called, and there were 75 moe voits for Edinburgh nor St Androwes. Then Mr Alexander being come in, Mr James Bonar declaired to him that the Assem- blie had ordained him to he minister at Edinburgh. Moderatour said — Becaus I know what a fearfull sin it was for a man either to obtrude himselfe upon a place or to resist Gods calling to it, this made me to cast myselfe in the J hands of the Assembly : and now for ane externall calling, I have followed, you voited ; and if ye have had any thing be- fore your eyes in voiting but the glorie of God and good of the Church, to yourselfe be it said ; and I will intreat you to i joyne with me in your desyres to God for a blessing upon my j labours that are weake, there, and withall, I beg of the As- sembly that if weaknes of bodie or mynd shall come on me shortlie, I may have libertie to retire to some private place : which the Assemblie granted. Doctor William Guild presented a supplication to the As- sembly — That, whereas there was great fisching of salmond neir Aberdene upon the Sabbath, which occasioned great pro- fanation of that holy day, by peoples continuall resorting to see that fisching, even in tyme of divine service ; and like- wayes declaired how he had prevailed much, throw the bless- ing of God upon his labours, to restrane that abuse, so that divers worthie religious persones who have speciall interest in that fisching, had bein moved to draw up a bond and covenant among them to forbeare that sinfull practice in all tyme comeing ; therefore supplicats that the Assembly may be pleased to make ane Act against the said profanation, that upon that ground he might proceed against them, after his returne from the Assembly. The Assembly, after much disputation in respect they could find no Act of Assembly against salmond fisching for the pre- sent, they appoynted Doctor Guild, Mr John Robertsone, with some others, to think upon some overture for it against the morrow. The Pro vest of Glasgow declaired that he had mett with some uther of the burrowes, and they had condescendit upon the change of Mondayes mercat to Wednesday, and desyred reference might be made of it to the Convention of Burrowes. 694 APPENDIX. Sess. 26. — December 19, 1638. After in calling upon the name of God, The Moderatour said — Ye know, as we must rander ane | account to God for our proceedings, and be comptable to our | owne consciences, so it is meit, for the peace and quyetnes of this Church, that, as God hes disposed our hearts to carry j ourselves reverentlie in all our proceedings, and be compta- | hie to our owne consciences ; so it is meit, for the peace and i quyetnes of this Church, that, as God hes disposed our hearts, I to carry ourselves reverentlie in all our proceedings towards : the Kings Majestie, so that he he acquainted with our pro- j ceedings, and that some humble supplications be directed by j this Assemblie to his Majestie, that it may please him to j approve, by his auctoritie, what we have concludit. I thinke there be more heir but they will thinke it very necessar. There is heir drawen up a little tast of the frame of it ; and at more lenth ye may alter and change it at your plea- sure. Moderatour said — Ye know there was a matter of verie great importance committed to some, concerning these that should be commissioners in tyme of Parliament. Lowdoun answered — We, according to the knowledge we had of men, have made a list of the names of some commis- sioners and gentlemen. There is somewhat heir concerning them that shall heirafter subscryve the Confession of Faith, as ye know some hes come in to this Assemblie, young no- blemen and gentlemen, and offered themselves willing to subscryve the Covenant, becaus now it was a kynd of non- sense to subscryve to suspend the practice of novations, till they be tryed and allowed in a free Assemblie, since now the Assemblie hes determined it ; therefore, it is necessar that two or thrie lynes be prefixed before their subscription, who heirafter shall subscryve as follows : — “ The Article of the Covenant, which was, at the first sub- scription, referred to the determination of the Generali As- sembly, being now determined at Glasgow, November 21, 1638, and thereby the Five Articles of Perth, and Goveme- ment of the Kirke by Bishops, is now abjured and removed, the civil places and power of Kirkmen being declared to be unlawfull, I subscryve according to the determination of this lawfull Genei'all Assemblie.” And becaus the Marqueis of Hamilton hes caused print a declaration, that it was neither his Majesties meaning nor his owne, in urging the late Covenant, to abjure Episcopacie; therefore he desyred the brethren to think upon it till the morne. Lowdoun said — The honourable Counsel, they have made an Act, wherein they declair in what sense they subscryvit to the doctrine of faith, religion, and discipline of the Kirk of Scotland — to witt, as it was professed in anno 1580. This is major propositio. This Assembly hes sett doune clearlie, according to the Acts of the Kirk, how the doctrine, religion, and discipline was then professed. This is the minor. The conclusion will follow : — That they have subscryvit according to the determination of the Generali Assembly ; for, at that tyme, it is cleare there was no Bishop. The major is the Counsells Act ; the minor is the Assemblies explanation ; and the conclusion any bodie knowes. The complaint against Mr Thomas McGill referred to the Commission at Edinburgh. My Lord Lowthian presented ane supplication to the As- semblie, anent the transportation of Mr Androw Cant from Pitsligo to Newbotle, in the Presbitrie of Dalkeith. Moderatour said — It would seeme reasonable your Lord- ship should get a favourable answer, considering your dili- gence and zeale in this cause above many uthers, and I know this not to be a new motion, but to be concludit by the Pa- tron, Presbitrie, and Paroche. The Commissioner of Edinburgh alleadged that they had made an election of him 24 yeares since. Then the mater was put to voiting — Whither Mr Andro Cant should be transported from Pitsligo to Edinburgh? And the most pairt of the Assembly voited to his transplan- tation to Newbotle; and so the Moderatour declaired him to be Minister at Newbotle. The Commissioner of St Androwes presented a supplica- tion in name of the toune of St Androwes for transportation of Mr Robert Blair from Air to St Androwes, for the good of their Universitie. Mr Robert Blair was called on, who answered — I confesse I am in the hands of this Assembly ; but I protest heir, in Gods presence, that I had rather lay downe my life nor be separat from my flock at Air. The Assemblie thought meit to referre it to a committie — Mr James Bonar, Mr James Scharpe, Mr David Dick, Mr Robert Baillie, Mr John Adamsone, Mr Robert Douglas, Mr Robert Murray, Mr James Bruce, Mr Alexander Hendersone, Mr James Hamilton. Then Mr Robert Hamilton at Lesmahago compired ; and the Moderatour declaired that he had laboured to delay the discussing of this proces very lang, of purpose to gaine him from his faults, and therefore desyrit him now to declair frielie whither or not he would passe from his declinatour which he had subscryvit? who answered, that he was not weill advysed as yet. Efter much reasoning to and fro, the Assembly suspends him presentlie ; declaires him worthie of deposition ; ordaines him to compeir before the Presbitrie of Lanerk, and give them full satisfaction, and then to compeir before the Commission at Edinburgh : And, in case he have not given the Presbitrie satisfaction, ordaines them to proceed against him. Because it was impossible for everie Presbitrie to get a full copie of all the Acts of the Assemblie, There- fore, the Assemblie ordaines them to get an index of the principall under the Clerks hand to take home with them. The Moderatour said — There is a poynt in our Confession of Faith not yet cleared, and therefore it were well done to declair your judgment concerning that ye know'. There was a reference in the Confession of Faith to the Generali As- sembly. 1, It comends [condemns] the novations alreadie introduced ; 2. Concerning the corruptions of the publict governement of the Kirk ; and the third was concerning the civile places and power of Kirkmen. The two former are already determined. It rests now ye declair your judgment concerning the third ; and for the effect, it will be expedient that ye heare some few thinges red to yow — as, namely, the Conference at Falkland, 1599, when the Kings Majestie was first craving to the Ministrie, voit in Parliament, he appoynted a conference for that effect, for clearing of the mater ; and, lykewayes, that ye heare red to yow, the protestation and reason thereof, given in to the Parliament 1606, by Com- missioners from Provinciall Assemblies and Presbitries. "We deny not but it is requisit that Ministers be not far from the Parliament, that, if any case of conscience fall in Parliament, they may give their advyce from the W'ord of God. But the question is — Whether the Ministers should voit or ryde in Parliament, as Lords and Nobles? Their pretence, at first, w r as to vindicat the Kirk and Kirkmen from contempt and po- verty ; but we neid not to doubt but our Lord will see us get honour and respect enough, if we keep ourselves within the bounds of our calling; and, I am persuadit, there is not a faithfull Minister but he will have more joy when he comes from catechising a number of landwart people, nor a Bishop hes when he comes from ryding in Parliament. And they thought to vindicat themselves from contempt and povertie ; but, it is lyke, now both will come upon them. Mr Andro Cant said — The Apostle sayeth — Who is suffi- cient for these thinges? And yet they will take on two offices, and jumble the civill and ecclesiasticall function throw uther, which is very incompatible. Mr Andro Ramsay said — I have spent many sermons and treatises against it ; and, therefore, with my heart, I con- demn it. Mr David Dick said — The first thing that ever brought me in disgust with the estate, was when I considerit what was the reason that Christ dischargit his disciples to be rulers of the Gentiles ; and the satisfaction that I got from this, that Christ would not have his kingdome ane eyesore to the world; so my heart could never be to that course. Moderatour said — When it was first instantlie urgit by auctoritie, there were some of the ministers had the sagacitie as a foirmell, what could come of it, which made many to protest against ; and when, by so doing, they could not hin- der it, to put cautions upon it. But since these cannons could not keepe them within their bounds, but they with their voit in Parliament did prejudge the Kirk, whither should not the Church be red of that which hath wrought her so great prejudice? And I thinke there is no more her- trogenius from the matter of a ministers calling, nothing setts him worse, nor nothing more contrarie to his Masters cariage, nor to be a Lord in Parliament. The question is twofold. The first is, Whither a minister of Jesus Christ, separat to the Gospell, should breuke civill place as is usit in a Coun- cell bench or Session ? And the uther is, W hether he should i APPENDIX. voit in Parliament or not? In a word, Whither their exer- cising in civ ill offices be lawfull or unlawfull ? The rolles being called, the whole Assembly most unani- mouslie, all in ane voit, with the hesitation of two, allanerlie declaired, that its both inexpedient and unlawfully in this Kirk, for ministers, separat to the Gospell, to bruike any civill place or office qwliatsomever. Moderatour said — We have reason to blesse the Lord for this harmonie — that we sing all ane song, and are led by ane spirit. I answer, where mens mynds are put to a poynt in their worldlie ambition and covetousness, they will, for their aine parte, be content to want these dignities. Thir must either belong to ministers in respect of their ministerie, or in respect they are prelats, and so are called Lords ; and if as they are ministers this be unlawfull, as they are prelats it hes double unlawfulnes. Moderatour said — There would be some considerations had concerning Ruleing Elders. It hes pleased God so to dis- pence with the hearts of our nobilitie, gentry, and burrowes, that they have by concurrence helped forward the caus of religion, or, as the Scripture phrase is, they have helped God ; and, therefore, it becomes me, with all thankfulness, humblie to acknowledge it ; and although we have gone far on in our ecclesiasticall determinations, we must not thinke the mater endit yet ; but the Kirk of Christ in this land is yet wrestling with many difficulties. Neither can we thinke ourselves secure in peace and quyetnes, till civill auctoritie ratifie what is heir done by ecclesiasticall constitutions. Therefore it were meit that these elders should still give us their assist- ance, especiallie on extraordinary occasions. Only ye have to consider whither or not there may be a motion made aneut the restoiring of them to the integritie of their places that they had, at the first subscryving of the Confession of Faith ? Mr Robert Murray said— Traelie, when I consider the case of our Kirk as it hath beine a long tyme bygone, and the benefite it had by ruleing elders, I thinke we should be verie glad to agrie to the restoiring of them againe ; for I find, ever since the reformatione, in all sorts of Assemblies where rule- ing elders hath bein, that they have done great good ; and I find that there hath bein many complaints for the want of them ; not, never for the having of them, either in Presbi- tries and utlier judicatories. For my pairt, if we looke sim- plie to the good of the common cause, which we all pretend to doe, we will be glad of their assistance at all our As- semblies ; for it would be a strengthening of our weake hands. Lowdoun said — I understand that in all Parliaments where any thing hes bein done concerning the Kirk, it hath ay bein the first act that the privilege and libertie of the Kirk be ratified ; and now the evills that troubled Kirk and state, being, by the Confession of Faith in this Kirk, and by the discipline of it removed, I thinke are, upon you, but a parte of that which is requyred to be ratified in the generale ai’ticle which yee red first. But there is a policie and government sett doune in this Kirk, not to be contraverted in it selfe ; and if, becaus of the long disswetude of it, or suppressing of it, any hath feares for any thing that may be in it, I think that may be adverted to ; but, for the thing itselfe, it is so conduceable for the strengthening of the Kirk and her frie- dome and liberties, that there is no way compairable to it ; for it goes dqune at the upmost, and goes doune from the representative Kirke to Provinciall Assemblies ; from them to Presbyteriall ; from presbyteriall to paroches and sessions ; and so, what is done heirby, this Kirk oblisses everie congre- gation to stand to it, as a thing that concerns them all ; and this it is swome, because it is the discipline of the Kirk, and the grounds of it are in the bookes of policie ; and, if it were not for the good of the Kirk, (what can anything ?) doeth it concerne ruleing elders, albeit many hes feares of a predo- minant way. It is rather to be feared that we will be slack and remisse upon the uther extremitie. Moderatour said — I hope that God, who hes led us hither- to by a spirit of wonderfull unanimitie, shall so regulat the hearts of everie member that hes had place in this Assemblie, that all their designes shall conduce to the weill of the Kirk. It is objected against us, that we would not be content of 14 bishops, but now we have many hundreths over-ruleing us. But let us take this for a suggestion of Sathan, and hold our eye upon the great Bishop of all, through whose blessing this will be a meane to keip his work in unitie and peace. Mr Andro Ramsay said — I think it no sort expedient to call it m question, which I am able to cleare against all the world. Mr Andro Cant said — We have sien such a great blessing of God upon the constitution of this Assembly, that certainlic we have great caus to rejoyce; and, next unto the presence of our God, I attribute a great parte of this harmony to the good disposition of Ruling Elders; and it is a very uncharita- ble prejudice to judge amisse of such a divine institution be- fore we have experience of the evil of it. Mr Alexander Kerse said — There are two termes that are not scriptural termes as they are used, or rather abused — to witt, the Clergie and laitie. The Popishe Kirk appropriates the ane to kirkmcn, and in a maner excludes the people of God as not of the Lords inheritance, and, in a sort, have put the people of God from their station and place that they have right unto by the law of God, that they will not suffer them to humane consultative or decesive voit in any sort. The rolles being called, the whole Assemblie most un- animouslie declaired the approbation of that old order of Ruling Elders. Concerning Mr John Beilis supplication for a helper, the Assemblie referris it to the consideration of the Commission at Edinburgh. Sess. ultima . — December 20, 1630. After in calling upon the name of God, Doctor Guild said — There is a motion made, as ye all hard the other day, concerning salmond fiscliing, and proffanation of the Sabbath thereby, and it was not thought expedient to make new Acts, but to search for old ones, and to revive them. In Gods providence, there is heir found ane Act, in the year 1562, of the Assembly holden at Holyrudhouse, 12 Nov. 5 Session, where salmond fisching is expresslie inhibite and ordained to be punished by the censures of the Kirk ; and I requyre that the Clerk may read it ; which according- ly was done, and the whole Assembly, in ane voit, renewed the same. The names of the Commissioners for the Parliament being red, and the Articles which they behoove to present to it, they were desyrit to represent them to the Clerk of Register some dayes before the Parliament. Moderatour said — There will be some directions from the Assembly to Ministers what to doe first when they goe home. For this end, Presbitries must have ane extract of some Acts shortlie ; and becaus there is a declaration of the Confession of Faith to be red, it wer good it wer intimat in all pulpits, as lykewayes thir things that are concludit in Assemblie con- cerning Episcopacie, the 5 Articles of Perth, the Service Booke, Booke of Cannons, Booke of Ordination, High Commission, and the Sentence against the Prelats, to intimat, that people may ken who are excommunicat, and who not. Then there was red two Acts, which wer put in forme : the ane commanding the Covenant to he subscryvit lie all Masters of Universities, Colledges, and Schools, and all uthers who have not alreadie subscryvit the same, with these words prefixed before their subscription ; ane uther Act, discharg- ing all subscription to the Covenant lately urged by his Ma- jesties Commissioner. After the calling the rolles, the whole Assemblie most unanimouslie allowed both these Acts. Moderatour said — There is a motion made concerning thanksgiving to be keeped when ye goe home to your parti- ; cular congregations ; and truelie, considering our evil deserv- ings, and what the Lord hes done to us for meir favour, we have no lesse nor great reason to acknowledge it, both pub- lictly in our congregations, and privatelie in our families, and to delyte in the honour of God, and make frequent com- memoration of it at the first convenient occasion after ye re- turne to your Presbitries and paroches ; and I trust it shall be acceptable unto God, and give no just occasion of of- j fence. The Assemblie allowes this Article, and ordaines Ministers to make intimation in their pulpits of the conclusion of this Assemblie, the first Sabbath efter their returne home, and desyre their people to prepaire themselfes against the next Sabbath thereafter, not for carnall festivitie, but for a humble thanksgiving. The Assemblie ordaines the Presbitries to proceid against those who subscryvit their declinatour, and all uthers who will not acknowledge the Assembly, with the censures of the Kirk ; and becaus there are some of this sort about Aberdein I that their voits will be moe in Presbitries, the Assembly or- 696 APPENDIX. dailies them to he called before the Commission at Aber- dein. Lykewayes the Assembly ordaines the Moderatour and Clerk to give out summonds upon relevant complaints of parties before the next Generali Assembly, hecaus the tyme could not be weill condiscendit upon. The rolles were called, j and most parte of the Assembly voited that the third Wed- i nesday of Jullii, the next Generali Assemblie should sitt at ; Edinburgh ; and if the Kings Majestie he pleased to indict a Generali Assemblie, either before or efter this tyme, the ! Assemblie declaires that it was good reason his Majesties tyme wer waited on. Then the Commissioners of St Androwes presented their 1 supplication for the transportation of Mr Robert Blair from ! Air to St Androwes ; and, efter many contestations betwixt the Commissioners of St Androwes, my Lord Lindsey, Pro- | vest of Air, and uthers, the mater was put to voiting, and ; there v r as no great difference amongst the voites, except only four or five moe that voited for St Androwes nor for Air : ; quharefore, The Moderatour, in name of the Assemblie, ordained him to goe to St Androwes. Lykewayes, the Commissioner of Aberdein did supplicat for the transportation of Mr Samuell Rutherfuird from An- weth in Galloway, to be Professor of Divinitie in the new | Colledge of Aberdene. Mr Samuell said — My ministrie and the exercise of it is subject in the Lord to this Honourable Assemblie. But I trust in God this Assemblie will never take from me my pastorall charge ; for there is a woe unto me if I preach not 1 the Gospell, and I know not who can goe betwixt me and that woe. If I doe not preach the Gospell, I verilie thinke the High Commission did not nor could not doe no worse nor that unto me ; and therefore, he desyrit if there were any such thing as that in their mynds, they would not intertaine such thoughts ; for he said he would be content to to suffer prisonment, banishment, &c., but never lay downe j his ministerie. The Moderatour answered — He was glad that his reasons j were so weake ; and after much reasoning to and fro, it was , referred to the Commission at Edinburgh. The Moderatour asked of the Assembly if there were any other particular to be remembred, or if any man had any motion to propone, or any further to say, since this was the last Session, and they were now this night to ryse and goe home to their churches ? The Assemblie being silent, and all matters considerable being now discussed, the Modera- tour uttered these speaches as followes : — The AToderatour, Ids last speacli , directed to the Assembly immediately before the dissolution thereof. I think there be none heir that expects any discourse of me worthie the taking up the tyme appointed for so great effaires as hes bein heir, or of such Noble, prudent, learned, and wise eares as heares me. Only I will say two things concerning my selfe — one is, that the evill that I would have schunne is come upon me ; for I did not apprehend it, neither can I call it absolutelie an evil, becaus there are good in it, and, I am sure, God hes done good by it. But this I ! say — I would have schunned it, partlie becaus of that hash- fulness which I fand in my selfe, and partlie becaus of my unwillingnes to make my weaknes and infirmities knowne to the world; but ye see, contrare to my disposition and re- solution, I have bein chargit to take on this charge, quhich I have borne thir dayes bygone, and I doe crave pardon of the God of Heaven and of this honourable Assembly, of the faults that hes escaped me since I tooke it on, quhich I know are manyfold. This is ane thing concerning myselfe : the uther concern- ing myselfe is this — That I observe the beginnings and closeings of the worke of God to be very answerable. The beginnings were very weake — by very weake instruments — and so hes the conclusions beene, by reason of my w r eaknes, who have bein imployd in it ; and this is, that the Lord may get the glorie that belongs to him of his own power. But what shall I say ? That I have bein ane Instrument, nay ye yourselves have bein instruments raised by God. By your pietie, prudence, and paines, the Lord hes brought this worke to passe ; and I cannot say but all sortes have bein verie diligent and faithfull, zealous, and stranglie assisted by God in every poynt committed to them — in trueth, to my admiration. Ye must not rest upon yourselves, but ascend higher, and looke to these worthie Noblemen who have beine cheefe in- struments in this work, and how it has pleased the Lord to move their hearts, contrare to their place — being subject to many temptations — and contrare to the age of some of them, to attend thir effaires quherin is not much worldlie bewtie or contentment ; yea ye know what paines and hazard they have undergone — yea, what charges — altho’ I will not men- tion so fecklesse a mater, for if I should, I would wrong their pious resolution. Yet ye must not stint your mynds heir ; for, if ye doe, ye wrong them by giving them more nor due, and so dee pre- judice to the honour of the Majesty of our God ; and there- fore to ascend higher, I pray, from the meanest instruments that is heir, of Nobles, of Barons, of Ministers, of Elders — goe forward and consider of the Kings Majesties goodnes toward us ; for ye know this A ssembly was indicted be his Majesties auctoritie, and that his Majesties High Commis- sioner was heir till it was fullie constitut ; and let us take this as a great favour from the Kings Majestie and his Com- missioner ; and let us stirre up our hearts to pray to God for his Majesties long prosperous reigne over us. But we must not rest upon the King, but ascend yet higher j unto God himselfe, and give him his owne praise ; and sure- | lie the name of our God is worthie of all praise ; for he has 1 1 raised us out of the deipes of the earth : he has raised us from the dead, and exalted us very far. The yondest of our wishes was to have bein at our first reformation ; and now, ! in his graceous dispensation, their measures are restoired to us ; and, if it be not so, let us blame ourselves ; for yee see i how the Lord, in his providence, hes given us the occasioun j and opportunitie, that all things may be done in the hous of God, according to our former integritie, and which, I trust, ! I am assured, is according to the will of God. What shall 1 intreat yow, honorable, reverend, and weill-beloved, to doe, but, first, to consider the great and singular kyndnes — the inestimable favour and love of our Lord Jesus Christ, towards { us all, the children of men, redeemed by his blood — that he ! ; so loved us, from all Eternitie, that he gave himself to so painfull sufferings, and schamefull sufferings, to purchase the 1 Holy Spirit unto us ? And truelie poore Scotland, but rich 1 1 in respect of the Gospell, may say, that the Lord hes loved ! us ; yea there was never such a love heard tell of as he has j ! borne to us. Next I would have yow to consider — and I put no ques- j tion but ye have considerit it — the goednes of the Lord our i God, and his great bountie toward us in this great worke, which now, ecclesiasticalie, is brought to a kynd of conclu- sion. Remember ye not that our adversaries were at a verie great height of pride ? Remember ye not that they prydit themselves in auctoritie, and in their prudence and policie ; and if there were any name of learning in the land, they would faine have had it appearing on their syde to be a ter- j rour to ws, whom they thought sillie, poore, ignorant saules, j besyde them ? And how our sun was almost sett at noone — and we would surelie have died in darknes — except the ! Lord had appeared and made his light to shyne ? Next, beloved, I would have yow to consider how small the beginnings were, yea, both small, weake, and obscure ; ! and so soone as the Lord toutched the hearts of men of all rankes, from the highest to the lowest of the countrey, and how sensiblie the Lord wrought with many a saule, what light filled their mynds, and what heat filled their hearts ! For many old men who wer friezing for cold for want of de- votion, they found yet their hearts glowing with the heat that was breaking upon them, at the renewing of that Covenant, and we found the documents of his presence at all our Meet- : ings ; for howbeit there were thousands mett together many j tymes, there were nothing but quyetnes and peace : and j surelie our adversaries themselves have contributed to our j conclusions, (thanks be to the Lord that rules all the actiones i of men !) for they have wrought more for our ends nor our owne prudence hes done. When our courses failed us, their courses promo ved our intentions; and this is theextraordinarie Providence that workes, not only by meanes, but without meanes, and contrare to meanes — contrare to their malicious intentions and purposes that are against ws. And should not we, beloved, remember with thankfulnes the beginnings — these glorious beginnings of reformation in this land — | greater pietie — more religious exercises — greater sobrietie, chastitie, and care to keep the bodie from uncleannes — greater care to perform the dewties of righteousnes — not so much craft, crueltie, oppression, falsehood in the land, as was j 1 APPENDIX. 697 before this work began? And, if it be prosequut, it will appeare to be the worke of God. But shall we not acknowledge His hand that would have this Assemblie indicted by auctoritie, and his Majesties Commissioner staying till it was fullie constitut ; and that the Lord should have keiped ws heir against all sortes of feares quhatsoever ; and, being heir, has keiped us in such a wonderfull unitie, and, I trust, also the light of veritie ? Surelie this should make ws wonder at the goodnes of God ; but especiallie when we consider the comfortable conclusions this Assemblie hes brought to passe. And now, we are quyte of the Service Hooke, which was a booke of Slaverie and Ser- vice indeed; the Booke of Cannons, which tyed us inSpirituall bondage ; the Booke of Ordination, which was a yocke put upon the necks of faithfull Ministers ; and the High Commis- sion, which was a guard to keip us all under that slaverie. All these evillsGod hes red us of,andlykewayesof the civill places of Kirkmen, quhich was the splendour of all these evills ; and the Lord hes led captivitie captive, and made Lords slaves. What should we doe less, then resolve, first, since the Lord hes granted ws libertie to labour, to be sen- sible of it, and take notice of it ; for we are like to a man newlie awaked out of a dreame, or lyke a man that hes lyen lang in the irons, who, after they are tane off, and he re- deemed, he feilles not his libertie, but thinkes the irons are on him still. So it is with us. We doe not feill our liber- tie ; therefore it were good for us to studie to ken the bounds of our liberty wherewith Christ hath sett ws free, and then again to labour earnestlie that we be not more intangled with the yoke of bondage ; for, ye know, in logicks, a privatione ad habitum nan datur regressus. It is true — in politick places : these that are great in Court, if once depry ved, scarcelie wones to their credit ; but especiallie we know it is true in spirituall things, and yet the Lord, miraculouslie and extraordinarily, can give eyes to the blind, give eares to the deafe, raise the dead ; and we find, among ourselves, that once being, in a manner, depryved, at least run on far in a course of defection, the Lord hes been pleased to turn to us, and make us turne to him ; but take heid of the second privation — that which depryves our saules of libertie, and rather endure the greatest extremitie utlierwayes before we be intangled. I grant the Crosse is hard to looke upon ; bot if we get strength from our Lord, it shall be an easie yoke and burden. Remember the plague of Laodicea for luke- warmnes, and bewar of it ; for, ye know, the Lord threatens to spew them out of his mouth, which imports, 1. That he will take delyte in executing judgement upon us, as a man hes delyte when he empties his oppressed stomack. 2. It shall have reproach as a man goes with his vomiting to a back- syde. 3. It imports, that he shall never returne, as a man returnesnot to his vomite. Therefore, 1, let us know our liber- tie ; 2, the esteeme of it reverentlie ; 3, to use it diligentlie. Then for our thankfulness — I say it becomes us to be thankfull to the Kings Majestie, under whose peacable pro- tection we have had this libertie to con vine together ; and, truelie, I would recommend to yow, with your permission, two things — the ane is, we would not cease for any thing is come or can come, or is feared to come, to pray most fer- ventlie, and to indure in prayer for our graceous Sovereigne and King, whom God hes ordained to be our supreme Ma- gistral and to pour out our hearts on his belialfe, that it Avould please God to blesse him with all royall blessings. In all our preachings we would be carefull to recommend his Majestie to the People. We ought, indeed, so to doe; for it is the Lords will that we doe it ; and next unto Christ let him have the highest place ; for howsoever the fifth command be a precept of the second table, yet it is next unto the first, teaching us, that next unto our dewtie to God we owe dew reverence to these that are in places above us : Therefore, when ye heare evills reported, attribute them not to his Ma- jestie, but to misinformation. Ye that are acquainted with that storie, Numbers xxii, of Balaam and Balack, ye will find that God spak to Balaam. Balaam minsched it, and what Balaam spak to Balacks servands they minched it lyke- wayes ; for Balaam said — ■“ The Lord will not give lieve to goe,” and the servands said, “ Balack.” Balaam said — “ He will not come.” So it comes to pas many tymes with true Prophets, that God -will not give us lieve to doe this or that. But it is said to the King — “ This rebellious People will not doe this or that,” and he cannot understand but what he heares ; therefore we should pray to Him who hes the hearts of Kings into his hand, and the keyes of all his senses, that he would convey knowledge to his Majesties royall heart, that he may understand matters aright ; and we put no ques- tion but when he understands our proceedings, which hes been with respect to religion and loyaltie to him, he will think so weill of them, that he will vouchsafe his approbation and royall ratification to them in his owne tyme, which God grant. Then, for these Nobles, Barrons, Burgesses, and others who have attendit heir, this I may say confidentlie, and from the warrand of the Word — “These that honour God, God will honour them.” Your Lordships, and these worthie Gentlemen and Burgesses, who have bein honouring God, and giving testimony ample of your love to religion this time bygane, (though I will not excuse your former backslydings,) that, if ye will goe on, the Lord shall protect you, blesse you, honour you ; and your faith shall be found in the day of the revelation of Jesus Christ, unto praise, honour, and glorie — that is to say, these that speake evill of you shall praise you ; these that thinkes you foolish now, at that day shall confesse you were zealous ; these that dishonoured you shall honour you; or, as the word “glorie” imports, that they shall have a reverend opinion of you ; nay, even in this world, your faith, devotion, and zeale shall be found unto praise, honour, and glorie ; and the Lord shall returne you ane hundreth fold more in this lyfe, and, in the world to come, lyfe everlasting. And I must say one word of these Nobles whom Jesus Christ hath nobilitat indeed, and declaired sensiblie to be worthie of that title of nobilitie. Ye know they were lyke the tops of the mountaines that were first discovered in the deludge, which made the little valleyes hope to be delyvered from it also ; and so it came to passe. 1 remember, in the eastern countrie, where they worship the sun, a number being assembled earlie in the morning to that effect, all stryving who shall sie the sun first, a servand turned his face to the west, and waited on. The rest thought him a foolish man, and yet he got the first sight of the sun schyning on the tops of the western mountaines. So, truelie, he would have bein thought a foolish man that would have looked for such thinges of our nobilitie ; yet the Sun of righteousnesse hes beine pleased to shyne first upon these mountaines ; and long, long may he shyne upon them, for the comfort of the hilles and refreshing of the valleys ; and the blessing of God be upon them and their families ; and, we trust, it shall be seene to the generations following. As for us of the ministry, we have caus to praise the Lord that hes had such a peacable meetting heir, and that the Lord hes led us on in peace and trueth; that there hes bein no dif- ference worthie of consideration amongst us. It is a rare thing to sie such a harmonie; scarce hes the lyke beene seene in any nationall Assembly. Last, I must give a word of thanksgiving to this Cittie, wherein we have had such a comfortable residence, and to the principall Magistrats of it, who hes heir attendit our meeting, and hes had due cair to provyde extraordinary com- modious seats for us, and we have receaved very good inter- tainment in this cittie. The best recompence we can give to them is, to pray for the blessing of God upon them, and to give them a tast of our labours by visiting their colledge, and any other thing that consists in our power, without prejudice to the Kirk of God, that so the kingdome of Christ may be established among them, and glorie may dwell in this land. After which the Moderatour desyred some of the brethren to speak a word of exhortation. Mr David Dick said — We know not how shortlie the Lord may call us to trouble and sufferings for his trueth ; for his Majestie hath keeped us still in suspence all this tyme, and, as he has mingled all our former steppes with fear, so now he keepes us in the same temper, to the end our rejoy- cing might be as it should. But if we will continue to doe as w T e have begun, in supplicating our God and our King, and sett our face tow T ard our Lord, and hold the rule of his Word before cur eyes, and make himselfe our fear and our dread, we neid not to think any thing els, and acknowledge his soveraigntie over all creatures. This is the short cutt and perfect rule by which our goings must be ordered ; and if, in this path we meit with harsh troubles, when they are dis- geasted a while, sweit and solide comfort will be the upshott of them all, provyding w T e could wait for patience on our Lord ; and becaus, out of all doubt, the proceedings of the Assembly will be tryed, let us arme ourselves with the strength of our Lord to defend all our laudable constitutions, and, withall, bear with pitie the misconstructions of the 4 T APPENDIX. 698 world, making use of our liberty, and labouring to walke in a pure-pointed-out light; wondering at all the passages of our Lords providence, and admiring the large measure of reformation granted to this land ; rejoycing to see schame and confusion routed on the fall of Sions adversaries, and sevenfold rendered into their bosome who slandered our Re- formers as not learned and wyse with their zeale : the con- trare quhereof their laudable acts and constitutions makes manifest. And if this we doe, having now gotten a refor- mation sett on foot againe, if we goe on prudentlie, advanc- ing our Lord Jesus, keeping ourselves from a lordlie denomi- nation; both Ministers and Ruling Elders knowing their duties ; and everie ane seiking the helpe and assistance of ane uther ; that as the hands cannot say to the feete, nor the feete to the hands, “ we have no neid of yow,” so we may all, as members of ane bodie, studie to advance our Lord and his honour; and, if we will studie to repent for the wronges God hes gotten in this land, and studie for a thor- ough reformation of ourselfes, our people, and our families ; then it shall come to passe, that the blessing of God shall be upon ourselfes, our callings, and laboures, and our posteritie, and we shall be hid in the day of the Lords anger. Then Mr Andro Ramsay, being called on to speake next, said — Among all the pairts of Gods worship, I acknowledge none more acceptable to God than thanksgiving ; and it be- comes us verie weill to be thankfull, if w r e regaird, first, the beginning ; secondly, the progresse ; thirdlie, the happie con- clusion of this great worke. First, if we regaird the be- ginning which was (1.) wonderfull, (2.) unexpected, and (3.) powerful! First it was wonderfull, in respect that, by a few number of the basest offscourings in the land, God did begin this worke, that the glorie might be given to him alone. Secondlie, As it was wonderfull, so it was unexpected; for scarce ane in all Scotland could have any hope to see this dayes worke. Thirdlie, It was powerful ; for, before it be- gane, religion was dieing, and the breath of it expyreing. But now it is reviveing ; the winter is over and gone ; the floures appeare in the earth ; and the tyme of singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. Againe, if we will looke to the progresse of this worke, we will see great matter of thankfulnes ; for whatever any intendit for our hurt, he made it to tume for our good. Third, for the conclusion, 1, If we respect this frequent meeting we have had ; 2, this powerfull and gracious assistance we have felt ; 3, this wonderfull harmonie and unanimitie that we have had ; 4, the happie conclusion that we see now with our eyes : In all thir respects we have great reason to praise God. First, for the frequencie of this meeting, there was never such a meeting at such a worke sein in Christendome. 2, So powerfull assistance, both of the Spirit of our God for which we glorified him, and of these worthie nobles and uthers heir present, on whom we wishe all earthlie blessings — blessings heir, and eternall happinesse in the lyfe to come. 3, For our harmonie ; there was never such a harmonie ; that, all in ane voit, we have rejected and condemned that Service Booke — a booke of slaverie and servitude indeed — that superstitious Booke of Ordination, and that Booke of Canons, which was a bulwarke and defence for all the rest. 4, For the happie conclusion, we have great reason to thanke God that these bookes are now condemned. The five Articles that rent our Church are now condemned ; Episcopacie now abjured, and all uther matters introductorie to Popperie — the Lord hes fried us from them ; for which I say we have great reason to thank God. Now let us not sing a requiem to ourselves, nor yet be insolent in our carriage, but behave ourselves wiselie and prudentlie towards our superiours; and, though the Bish- ops be cast out, let us not be cairlesse of auctoritie, but let our carriage be modest and our speach seasoned with grace. 3, Let us be vigilant and not secure ; for, a great and good worke such as this is, it was never brought to ane end with- out opposition. 4, Let us be courageous in the strenth of our God ; and, lastlie, thankfull to his great name for that wonderfull unanimitie that hes beine amongst us, and happie conclusion that God hes granted unto us. The Moderatour said — Truelie it becomes us not to be in- solent ; for the Lord hes bein pleased so to dispose of us as we have not caus to be wantoun, for if, as we had divine auctoritie to warrand us, so we had humane, I feir it should be hard for us to keip ourselves within bounds. But the Lord, knowing our weaknes, keipes us in this temper; and if we carry ourselfes worthlie of that God hes bestowed upon us, who knowes but he will graceouslie grant us all our de- syres, and turn the countenance of our King toward this Kirk ? There rests ane circumstance which I should have remembered. I am assured it will be acceptable to this Assembly, that some of these Noblemen who hes bein ane ornament to this Assembly should speake ane word before it dissolve, especiallie my noble Lord Argyle, whom we could have wished, if it had pleased his Lordship, to have come in sooner : but the Lord hes reserved him for the fittest tyme, and I trust the Lord shall honour him with all blessings, both heir and heirefter. My Lord Argyle said — Since it pleases you, Moderatour, to name my name, yow give me occasion to thanke yow for putting so favourable a construction upon my carriage, where- as ye wishe me that I had come in sooner. Truelie, I tell yow it was not want of affection to the good of religion and my countrie, and I desyre that favourable construction of yow still, that my intention was to have done more good wherein I was not inlaiking before ; and, when I saw I could be no more usefull, except I had bein a knave, I thought good to doe as I have done. Ane thing I would remember yow of who hath bein purging the Kirk of evill instruments, that ye would labour to learn a lesson upon their expenses : felix quern faciunt aliena pericula cautum. I remember, upon ane occasion, I told some of them to their face, that there was two faults which had brought meikle evill in this Church — to witt, pride and avarice, which I cannot deny but to be grievous faults in any man, but especiallie in Churchmen. But I hope everie man shall walke by the square and rule which is now before him — keeping dutie first to superiors ; secondly, to equals ; and, thirdlie, to inferiours. For superi- ours, there needs nothing to be farder said nor hes bein alreadie by the Moderatour. Only this; let us all la- bour, since we are fried of many yockes of bondage, not to abuse our Christian libertie, which may make our profession to be evil spoken of. Secondlie, for our duetie to our equals — there is a caus much spoken of in this Church, betwixt ruling elders and ministers. Some ministers feares that it be a curbing of them ; but, if any of these elders stryve to make use of that power for any end but for the good of the Kirk, they may be sure of their oune judgment. Truelie, it may be, that some ruleing elders in some places be not so wise as neid wer ; but let not that, if it fall out, breid a dis- temper in the peace of this Church ; but let unitie be all our rules ; and, if anything of this kind fall out in Presbytries or Parochines, let neighbour Presbytries and Parochines joyne togither for settling thereof, that no dissension be of this kind, for it may doe much evill. Thirdlie, for inferiours — I hope ministers will studie to know their duetie towards their flocke and people ; lykewayes, will have due regard to these whom God hes sett over them ; for we must not think that becaus we want Bishops, therefore we may live as we will. And, if this we doe, though our gracious Master doe not everie thing at first as we would wish, yet tyme may worke many things, if we goe on constantlie in the defence of our religion and of the auctoritie of our graceous Soveraigne, whom, we , may long and prosperouslie reigne over us. fter that the Moderatour had given thankes to my Lord Argyle for his speach, and craved pardon of his Lordship for expressing his name, he said — As for that which my Lord hes beine wiselie speaking, concerning our duetie to the Kings Majestie, we have good reason to advert unto it ; for this reason, addit to many — becaus our adversaries gave it out as ’ a calumnie against us, that his government which we are about, established by Christ in this Church, cannot stand with monarchicall government, but Episcopall only ; but let us resolve to give a proofe of the contrare — that the govern- I ment which Christ hes appoynted, may weill stand with j monarchicall government; and, we trust, that we are not to be suspected of our loyaltie toward his Majestie; and this certainlie will make his Majestie perceave that we have done nothing but what we have done, moved by God, and drawen be necessitie to doe. And for this end let us — to conclude this great worke — beseech Him who hes the hearts of Kings in his hands, to inclyne our Kings heart, and let us magnifie, from our hearts, our graceous Lord for this peaceable meeting and happie conclusion we have had ; for the which we are oblissed all the dayes of our life to be thankfull to our God and King, and to render unto the Father, Soune, and blissed Spirit of Grace, all praise, endless honour, and glorie, for now and ever. Amen. APPENDIX. 699 No. IV. Abstract of the Speech of Lord Warriston, before the Westminster Assembly , after the delivery of some Queries from the Parliament. Mr Prolocutor, I am a stranger. I will not meddle with the parliament- privileges of another nation, nor the breaches thereof; but as a Christian, under one common Lord, a ruling elder in an- other church, and a parliament-man in another kingdom, hav- ing commission from both that church and state, and at the desire of this kingdom assisting in their debates, entreat for your favour and patience to express my thoughts of what is before you. In my judgment, that is before you which concerns Christ and these kingdoms most and above all, and which will be the chiefest mean to end or continue these troubles. And that not only speaking humaniter , and looking to the dispo- sition of these kingdoms, but especially in regard of the divine dispensation, which hath been so special and sensible in the rise and continuance of these commotions, as I can neither be persuaded that they were raised for, or will be calmed upon the settlement of civil rights and privileges, either of kings or princes, whatsoever may seem to be our present success ; but I am convinced they have a higher rise from, and for the highest end, the settling of the Crown of Christ in these islands, to be propagated from island to continent; and until King Jesus be set down on his throne, with his sceptre in his hand, I do not expect God’s peace, and so not solid peace from men in these kingdoms. But establish that, and a dur- able peace will be found to follow that sovereign truth. Sir, let us lay to heart what is before us, a work which concerns God and man most of any thing in agitation now under the sun, and for which we will one day be called to a more strict account than for any other passage of our life. Let us both tremble and rejoice when we reflect upon what is under de- bate, and now in our hands. I was glad to hear the parliament confess their willingness, to receive and observe whatsoever shall be shown from the word of God to be Christ’s or his church’s rights or dues ; albeit I was sorry to see any, in the delivery thereof, inter- mix any of their own personal asperity, any aspersions upon this Assembly, or reflections on another nation ; so in this day of law for Christ, wherein justice is offered, if he get not right in not showing his patent from his Father, and his church’s from himself, it will be counted your fault. Sir, all Christians are bound to give a testimony to every truth when called to it ; but ye are the immediate servants of the Most High, Christ’s proctors and heralds, whose proper func- tion it is to proclaim his name, and preserve his offices, and assert his rights. Christ has had many testimonies given to his prophetical and priestly offices by the pleadings and suffer- ings of his saints, and in these latter days, seems to require the same unto his kingly office. A king loves a testimony to his crown best of any, as that which is tenderest to him ; and confessors and martyrs for Christ’s crown are the most royal and most stately of any state-martyrs; so, although Christ’s kingdom be not of this world, and his servants did not fight therefore, when he was to suffer, yet it is in this world, and for this end was he bom. To give a testimony to this truth, among others, were we born, and must not be ashamed of it nor deny it ; but confess and avouch it, by pleading, doing, and suffering for it, even when what is in agitation seems most to oppose it, and therefore requires a seasonable testimony. But it lies upon you. Sir, who have both your calling from Christ for it, and at this time a particular calling from many, as that which the Honourable Houses require from you at such a time, when the settlement of religion depends thereon, and when it is the very controversy of the times ; and the civil magistrates not only call you before them to aver the truth therein, but also give you a good example, coming before you out of tenderness to their civil trust and duty, to main- tain the privileges of parliament ; to give a testimony assent- atory to their civil rights and privileges ; and to forewarn you lest you break the same, and incur civil premunires. Sir, this should teach us to Be as tender, zealous, and careful to assert Christ and his Church, their privileges and rights, and to fore- warn all lest they endanger their souls by encroaching there- on ; and lest their omission and remissness bring eternal pre- munires upon them, let all know that the Spirit of your Master is upon you, and that Christ hath servants who will not only make pulpits to ring with the sound of his prerogative, but also, if they shall be called to it, make a flame of their bodies burning at the stake for a testimony to it, carry it aloft through the earth, like the voice in Sicily, that Christ lives and reigns alone in his Church , and will have all done therein according to his word and will, and that he has given no supreme head- ship over his church to any pope, king, or parliament what- soever. Sir, you are often desired to remember the bounds of your commission from man, and not to exceed the same. I am confident you will make as much conscience not to be deficient in the discharge of your commission from Christ. But now, Sir, you have a commission from God and man together, to discuss that truth, That Christ is a King, and has a kingdom in the external government of his church, and that he has set down laws and offices, and other substantiate thereof ; and a part of the kingdom for the which to come we daily pray, (as Perkins shows well.) We must not now before men mince, hold up, or conceal, anything necessary for this testimony ; all these would seem to me to be retiring and flying, and not to flow from the high Spirit of the Most High, who w r ill not flinch for one hour, not quit one hoof, nor edge away a hem of Christ’s robe-royal. These would seem effects of desertion, tokens of being ashamed, afraid, or politically diverted ; and all these, and every degree of them, Sir, I am confident will be very far from the thoughts of every one here, who by their votes and petitions, according to their protestations at their entry, have showed themselves so zealous and forward to give their testimony, albeit they easily saw it would not be very acceptable to the powers on earth, who would hamper, stamp, and halve it. But would you answer to that question, If this were a parliament, and if it was a full and free one, would he not, and should he not, be esteemed a great breaker of privileges, and contemptor curia ? Albeit we are not so wise, yet let us be as tender and jealous in our day and gen- eration. Truly, Sir, I am confident you will not be so in love with a peaceable and external profession of anything that may be granted to the church, as to conceal, disclaim, or invert your Master's right. That were to lose the sub- stance for a circumstance, to desert and dethrone Christ, to serve yourselves, and enthrone others in his place : a tenant doing so to his lord or landlord forfeits all. Ye are com- manded to be faithful in little, but now ye are commanded to be faithful in much ; for albeit the salvation of souls be called cura curarii, the welfare and happiness of churches (made up of these) is far more ; but the kingdom of Christ is optimum maximum ; and to have it now under your debate, as it is the greatest honour God doth bestow upon an assem- bly, so it is the greatest danger ; for, according now as God shall assist or direct you, you may and will be the instru- ments of the greatest good or evil on earth. Let us do all in, with, for, and by Christ. Remember the account we have to make to him, who subjects the standing or falling of his crown in this island to our debate. I speak humaniter for diviniter , I know it is impossible ; and albeit we should all prove false and faint-hearted, he can and will soon raise up other instruments to assert, publish, and propagate his right to a forum consistorii. He will have it thoroughly pled and judged betwixt his kingdom and the kingdoms of the earth. And seeing he has begun to conquer, he will pre- vail over all that stand in his way, whether pope, king, or parliament, that will claim any part of Headship, supreme prerogative, and monarchy over his own church. Sir, some may think you have had a design in abstaining so long from asserting the divine right of church government, now to come in with it truly. Sir, I look upon this check as a good providence for your great sparing and abstaining in that point, and must bear witness to many passages of God’s good hand in it, in not suffering us to make a stand for our desires concerning religion, either in Scotland or here, albeit we have often set down mensura voti to ourselves ; but he has so often moved us step after step to trace back our defections, and make the last innovations a besom to sweep out the former, and the king refused to be a mean to engage in a covenant with himself and others, and so has drawn us, against our wills , and beyond our desires, to per- form our 'duty, and to give a testimony to his truth, that much of God and divine wisdom and design, and little of man and his politic projects, might be seen in the beginning, progress, and continuance of the whole work, by this good 700 APPENDIX. hand of God : and for this end, I hope these queries are brought to your hand at this time. Sir, your serving the parliament a while, I am confident, has been, and will be still, not that they may serve you, but to serve the Lord Jesus Christ ; and that parliament will glory more in their subordination and subservience to him, than in the empire and command over the world. Sir, we may hear much of the breach of privilege, and of the covenant, in relation to civil right ; let us remember in the covenant the three orders in the title and preface, three main duties in the body, and the three effects in the close. — The covenant begins with the advancement, and ends with the enlargement of the kingdom of Christ, as the substantials and over- word of the whole. The first article of the seven is Christ, an article like dies Dominica in the week, all the rest are in Domino , and sub- ordinate thereunto : and all laws contrary to the will of Christ are acknowledged to be void in his kingdom, and so they should, with far greater reason than the constable’s orders against the ordinance of parliament are void in law. But, Sir, Christ’s throne is highest, and his privileges su- preme as only King and Head of his church, albeit king and magistrates may be members in it. There is no authority to be balanced with his, nor post to be set up against his, nor Korahs to be allowed against his Aarons, nor Uzzahs against his Azariahs. Is it so small a thing to have the sword, but they must have the keys also ? Truly, Sir, I am confident that the parliament, and both nations, will acknow- ledge themselves engaged under this authority, and so they would not be drawn from it ; for we must deny our places, take up our cross, lay aside our love to father or mother, paternal or civil, yea, lay down our lives to aver and confess this truth against all allurements and terrors, so ye would never endeavour to draw us to any other ; and whatsoever reflection to the contrary was insinuated by the deliverer of this message, I cannot but impute it to personal passion, which long ago was known to the world ; but will never be- lieve the honourable houses will allow thereof, as being far beneath their wisdom, and contrary to your merit. And, Sir, seeing these queries are before you, I am con- fident that whatever diversity of opinion may be among you in any particular, you will all hold out Christ’s kingdom distinct from the kingdoms of the earth, and that he has ap- pointed the government of his own house, and should rule the same ; and that none of this assembly, even for the gain- ing of their desires in all the points of difference, would, by their silence, concealment, and connivance, weaken, com- mutate, or sell a part of this fundamental truth, this sovereign interest of Christ ; and that ye will concur to demonstrate tlie same, by clear passages of Scripture, or necessary consequences therefrom, and by constant practice of the apostles, which are rules unto us. Sir, I will close with remembering you of two passages of your letter * sent by order of the House of Commons, to the General Assembly of the church of Scotland, that you will set out such discipline as, to the utmost of your power, you may exalt Christ the only Lord over the church, his own house, in all his offices, and present the church as a chaste virgin to Christ ; and for this end that you were not restrained by the Houses in your votes and resolutions, nor bound up to the sense of others, nor to carry on a private design in a civil way, but by your oath were secured against all flatter- ing of your judgment, and engaged thereby, according to the House’s desire, to use all freedom becoming the integrity of your consciences, the weight of the cause, and the integrity and honour of such an assembly. I will no more, Sir, trouble you, but with one word upon the whole matter, to desire you seriously to consider, if this business, whereon the eyes of God are fixed, deserves not a special day of humiliation and prayer for the Lord’s extraordinary assistance and direction of this Assembly. No. v. Mr Guthrie's speech in Parliament, immediately after the reading of his Process, April Wth, 1GG1. My Lord Chancellor, I did, at my first appearance before his majesty’s com- missioner, and this honourable court of parliament, give an * This letter was read August 17th. 1643, in the Scots General Assembly, as it stands in the collcctien of the acts thereof from 1038 to 1649, page 203. account of my accession to the particulars contained in the indictment, and of the grounds and reasons thereof ; I have now done it more fully in my defences and duplies to the re- plies given by my lord advocate ; in all which I have dealt ingenuously and without shifting, holding it the duty of a Christian, especially of a minister of the gospel, in the matter of his duty and calling, so to do. I have now only to add these few words. I hope I have made it sufficiently to appear, that what I have spoken, written, or acted in this matter, was from no malicious or sinistrous end or intention against his majesty’s person or government, but from a principle of true piety to- wards God, and true loyalty towards his majesty : as I have demonstrated those from tbe tenor of my carriage and act- ings, so have I herein confidence towards God, and, in the persuasion of the integrity of my soul in this particular, may, with a good conscience, not only make this declaration be- fore your lordships, but also hazard to step into eternity. Next, my lord, I hope I have made it appear that besides the conformity my accession to these things hath with the word of God, so they have a foundation in the national covenant, and in the Solemn League and Covenant, the obliga- tion whereof I dare not but profess to own as binding and standing on those kingdoms ; and that they are agreeable to the actings of public authority before the English their in- vading of this nation, to the canons of the church, law of the kingdom, and the public declared judgment both of church and state before those times. And, my lord, if this will not plead an oblivion and indemnity for me, but that, notwith- standing of all this, I shall be judged a seditious person and traitor, not only shall the whole church and kingdom of Scotland he involved in the guilt of sedition and treason, and few or none have any security for their lives, honours, and estates, further than the king’s mercy doth give, but also a very dangerous foundation shall be laid in time to come, for men of differing judgments, upon every emerging revolution, to prosecute the worsted party unto death, notwithstanding they have the public authority, and the laws then standing, to plead in defence of their actings. I know, my lord, it lieth on the spirits of some as a prejudice against me, that I am supposed to have been a chief instrument and ringleader in those declarations, laws, canons, and public actings of the kirk aud kingdom, which I do now plead in my own defence. I shall not say that this hath any rise from any, who, to lighten their own bur- den, would increase mine, holding that unworthy of any man of an ingenuous spirit, and most unworthy of a Christian. As I charge no man in particular, with accession to any of those things, so, as for myself, I do for the truth’s sake ingenuously acknowledge, that throughout the whole course of my life, I have studied to be serious, and not to deal with a slack hand in what I did look upon as my duty ; and yet, my lord, lest I should attribute to myself what is not due to me, I must, for staining of pride and vain-glory, say, I was not honoured to be of those who laid the foundation in this kirk and kingdom. I am not ashamed to give glory to God, in acknowledging that until the year 1638, 1 was treading other steps, and the Lord did then graciously recover me out of the snare of prelacy, ceremonies, and the service-book, and a little thereafter put me into the ministry. Yet I never judge myself worthy to be accounted a ringleader in any of these superstructures of that blessed work, there being a great many elder for years, and more eminent for piety, parts, prudence, faithfulness, and zeal, whom I did reverence and give precedency to in those things. It may also, my lord, haply be, and a little I have been informed of it, that besides anything contained in the indict- ment, there be some other things that bear weight upon the spirits of some of the members of this house, from some re- ports that have passed of my carriage, towards his majesty’s royal father, towards himself, and some others. As to those things, my lord, if there be anything of that kind, I do most humbly and seriously beg, and I think I may most justly expect, both in order to justice, and to the peace of their own consciences, that seeing they have no proof of it, but at least have taken it upon information, that they would altogether lay it aside, and lay no weight upon it ; or else, before they give judgment of me, they would let me know of it, and allow me a fair hearing upon it ; and if I cannot vindicate myself, let me bear the weight of it. In the next place, my lord, knowing that it is wondered at by not a few of the members of this parliament, that I APPENDIX. 701 should stand to my own justification in those things whereof I am challenged, and this is looked upon as a piece of peremp- tory and wilful humour, which if I pleased I might easily lay aside. My lord, I humbly beg so much charity of all that hear me, as to think that I have not so far left the exercise of all conscience towards God, and of all reason towards myself and my dearest relations in the world, as upon deli- beration to hazard, if not cast away both my life and soul at once. God knows, it is not my humour, but conscience that sticks with me ; and could I lay it aside, and not sin against God, and dissemble with men, by professing or confessing what I think not, I should not stand in the defence of one of those things for the minute of an hour : but, my lord, having, with prayer and supplications to the God of truth, searched the word of God, and consulted the judgment and practice of the Reformed churches, especially our own since the reformation from popery, and the writings of many sound and orthodox divines, and having frequently conversed with the godly ministry, and praying people of this nation, and tried the pulse of their spirits anent the national cove- nant, and Solemn League and Covenant, the particulars con- tained in them, and the superstructures that have been builded upon them, and anent sin and duty, and the power of the civil magistrate in matters ecclesiastical ; I find my practice and profession anent these, agreeable to all those, and therefore cannot reckon my light for humour and delu- sion, but must hold it fast, till better guides be given me to follow. My lord, in the last place I shall humbly beg, that, having brought so pregnant and clear evidence from the word of God, so much divine reason and human laws, and so much of the common practice of kirk and kingdom in my own defence, and being already cast out of my ministry, oftt from my dwelling and maintenance, myself and family put to live on the charity of others, having now suffered eight months’ imprisonment, your lordships would put no further burden upon me. I shall conclude with the words of the prophet Jeremiah, ‘ Behold, I am in your hands,’ saith he, ‘ do to me what seemeth good to you : I know for certain that the Lord hath commanded me to speak all those things, and that if you put me to death, you shall bring innocent blood on yourself, and upon the inhabitants of this city.’ My lord, my conscience I cannot submit, but this old crazy body and mortal flesh I do submit, to do with it what- soever you will, whether by death, or banishment, or impri- sonment, or anything else ; only I beseech you to ponder well what profit there is in my blood : it is not the extin- guishing me or many others, that will extinguish the Cove- nant and work of Reformation since the year 1638. My blood, bondage, or banishment, contribute more for the pro- pagation of those things, than my life or liberty could do, though I should live many years. I wish to my lord com- missioner his grace, and to all your lordships, the spirit of judgment, wisdom, and understanding, and the fear of the Lora, that you may judge righteous judgment, in which you may have glory, the king honour and happiness, and your- selves peace in the day of your accounts.” No. VI. Account of the Rising which ended in the defeat at Pentland, anno 1666. On Monday, the 12th of November, it fell out that (M‘Lellan of) Barscobe, and other three, who had been sometime under hiding, adventured to come down from the hills to a little town called the Clachan of Dairy, where four of Turner’s men were quartered. It was early in the fore- noon ; for, hunger, and lying in the cold rain, had brought them from the mountains. They came into an alehouse, and called for breakfast ; and while taking it, there was a cry in the town, that the four soldiers had bound an old man in his own house, and were threatening to strip him naked, and set him on a hot gridiron, because he could not pay his church fines; which when they heard, they were necessitated to leave their breakfast, and go to the house; where finding the man bound, they called to the soldiers, “ Why do ye bind the old man ?” They answered, “ How dare you challenge?” Some of the company offering to loose him, the soldiers drew on them with their swords ; and one of Barscobe’s company shot a pistol loaden with tobacco stopple, which wounded one, and made him fall. The soldiers violently assaulting, some others were wounded, and all four surrendered them- selves prisoners. This report soon reached Balmaclellan, where a party with a minister were at prayer, who, fearing to be involved, seized sixteen of Sir James’ men that were quartered in the neighbourhood. Having once embarked, fear made them proceed; as Turner, they knew, would make terrible reprisals. They resolved to be beforehand with him, and to surprise him and his garrison at Dumfries. They sent private advertisement through the country, that all who were ready should come in companies to Irongray kirk, on Wed- nesday night, that they might enter Dumfries by daybreak. Ere they could muster, the sun was up ; and it was ten o'clock before they got to Dumfries. They approached with- out giving the least surprise. Turner and his men were so secure, they had not even a watch or sentinel at the bridge that leads from Galloway to the town. They were fifty horse, provided with cloaks girded over their shoulder for fighting, and about two hundred foot. Marshalled in order, they came to the Bridgend of Dumfries, their com- mander riding before. The horse marched into the town ; the foot stayed without. Corsack and Robinson, with other two, were to ride up quickly to Turner’s quarters, the rest of the party to follow at a little distance. When the four came to the foot of the stair, and foregainst the window where Turner lodged, he w r as in bed; but hearing a noise of horse, he came running on the alarm, to the window, in his night gown. Seeing Corsack, with others, he cries, “ Quarters, gentleman ; for Christ’s sake, quarters : there shall be no resistance.” Whereupon Corsack, a meek and generous gentleman, cried to him, “ If you come down to us, and make no resistance, on the word of a gentleman you shall have quarters.” While they were speaking, the commander comes up, and seizing Turner, presented a pistol, or carabine, to have shot him; but Corsack interfered, saying, “You shall as soon kill me ; for I have given him quarters.” ho he forbore. A party was sent up to search his rooms, and bring down his papers and trunks, which were much emptied, he having before sent the money he had exacted in oppression, to. Glasgow, as I heard say, in some loads. They brought him- self down stairs in his night-gown, night-cap, drawers, and socks, and set him on a little beast barebacked, with a halter on the beast’s head, and carried him towards the cross; where, to show their loyalty, they drank the king’s health. Parties were sent here and there to apprehend the rest of the soldiers, one of whom only, was killed. Then they carried him through the town, out at the Nether-port, and a space down the river, to a green, by Nithside, over against the kirk of Troqueer, he being all along in a great panic, expecting they were going to hang him up with great solemnity. After a little consultation, they return with him in the same posture to his quarters, and bade him make ready to go with them. They warned all the inhabitants to bring the arms they had to the cross, and there they w r ere dealt out among the foot. In the afternoon, they marched him and other prisoners towards the west country, uncertain what was to be the issue of this sudden adventure. During all this time, there was no appearance of stir among all the gentlemen and noblemen in the country to assist or oppose them ; so, in the afternoon, they marched with him and the rest of their prisoners the length of the kirk of Glen- cairn, where most of them kept guard, and sent some from them to advertise some in the w T est country of what was done there, that they might be in readiness at their coming up. However, they were in great perplexity, getting so little in- crease to their company, by reason the country could not be ready, being so surprised. After they had met with some out of a few parishes in the w r est, they came to the town of Lanark, where it is said, they must have been near 2600, the greatest they had, and there they solemnly renewed the Cove- nant, after some word of exhortation by several ; Dalziel, with his men, being on the one side of the water. It is said, they had the best opportunity there to have fought, and their men were most resolute. This was on Monday before Pentland ; but shunning that opportunity, they resolved to march, and did march that night, to the parish of Bathgate, being in expectation there to meet with a recruit. However, that night being both dark and stormy, with wind and rain, and the march far, (about 20 miles,) many wandered and fell off. When they came to Bathgate, there had been a company of gentlemen met, who, upon hearing their approach, APPENDIX. 702 fled hard into Linlithgow, alarming them with great fear. On the morrow, being Thursday, they marched toward Coding- ton, where they kept guard, and quartered some places there- about. That night, some Lothian gentlemen fell upon a house where some of them were, shot in at the windows and killed one of them. But after that alarm, the country people getting to their horses pursued them near to Edin- burgh. After this, being -anxious what to do in that sad posture, the enemy following, and all the country appearing as their enemies, they resolved to march back toward Galloway and Nithsdale, and came the length of Pentland hills, five or six miles from Edinburgh, where they drew up to refresh them- selves a little. This meantime, a party of the Life Guards being commanded off Dalziel’s army appeared among the hills about 11 o’clock of the day, against which the country- men commanded forth a party of their horse, which encoun- tering with them, put them to the flight, and killed some. Here Mr Andrew M‘Cormick and Mr John Crookshanks were killed, on the country people’s side. When this was past, they might have had time to march forward ; for, it is said, for three hours’ time the body of Dalziel’s army did not appear : however, they staid till they saw them appear. Dalziel’s men sent forth a party of their horse, and the countrymen sent forth a party of theirs, and after some little conflict, Dalziel’s men did run ; the other pursued them near to their body, and then also retired to their body, which stood on the knowe. After this, a greater party on the other wing, from Dalziel’s army, did advance, the rest following. The countrymen had resolved to draw forth their men both on the right and left wing ; hut only those on the left had engaged with the enemy, and did again give them enough to do on that hand, but were not so readily seconded by those on the right hand. Being thronged and overpowered with multitudes, they were forced to wheel and run, the enemy having broken their right wing ere they were back ; so they all fled. About 45 of the countrymen were killed on the place, and about 100 taken prisoners, and brought into Edinburgh that night. In providence, the night fell on ere the conflict was ended, which was made a mean of the country people’s escaping. The prisoners were examined that night before the council. Some of them who were designed to die presently were put in the tolbooth. The rest were shut within the west end of St Giles’s kirk, called Haddock’s Hold ; where many, be- ing wounded, died of their wounds. Strong guards of the townsmen were appointed to watch that place every night. However, by some honest woman’s carefulness, in God’s providence, several of them were stolen out in disguise, now and then, till at length a way was found to get Haddock’s Hold broken, so that all escaped after they had lain there about a quarter of a-year, and no noise was made to search for them again ; so that they, with others who had escaped, lurked in Edinburgh till summer. While in prison, they were kindly entertained by the town’s people, as also after their escape. As for the rest of the. history of this sad disaster, and the executions of those who suffered, with their excellent speeches, I refer to that book called Naphtali; which par- ticularly sets down their names. I shall only notice that it was greatly wondered, that such a poor inconsiderable party of countrymen, so badly armed as they were, so outwearied with cold, travel, and hunger, should ever have engaged such a formidable enemy ; there being scarce 900 of them, and en- gaged against 8000 horse and foot, besides a great multitude, attendants of noblemen and gentlemen in the country, all well armed with all manner of furniture, for war offensive and defensive ; and yet, not only in the morning, hut twice in the afternoon, they both faced them and resolutely fought, till they were able to do no more, being oppressed with multitudes. It is not known what number of Ualziel’s men fell that day; but those who stood on the hill, when the second party charged the enemy, and chased them into the body, — some honest men, I say, who stood among the rest and saw it, affirm, they saw many empty horses run into the body of Dalziel’s army. All this time Turner remained in their hands, and was conducted along with them, under an escort of sixteen horse- men, as they were not master of a single prison, or garrison, in all Scotland. On the evening of the battle he made his escape, — by making a covenant with his keepers, that if they preserved his life at that time he should preserve theirs in case of the king’s forces’ victory : — a service which he after- wards attempted,, but could not accomplish. It is also to be noted, that that people was little given to revenge; that, though they had been much provoked by that cruel tyrant, yet, when they got him in their hands, they did not so much as offer him a stroke, but took him prisoner, and gave him fair quarters wherever they travelled. No. VII. Account of the Rising which originated the Battle of Drumclog, and ended in the defeat at Bothwell- hridge, anno 1679. From what has been already related in this work, we may easily form a judgment of the dismal state of the nation on account of the arbitrary proceedings of those who had the management of affairs, and the causeless severities which many innocent people endured. The rigorous and military execution of the sanguinary laws, now in force, could not hut exasperate those who were by this means robbed of their liberty and property, and of everything that was dear and valuable, especially as oppres- sions of every kind were still increasing. All legal methods of redress were cut off from the poor suffering people. What then could they do ? Surely one may think, that it was incumbent upon them to fall upon measures for getting from under the feet of their cruel oppressors ; for who would choose to continue in misery, if they could by any law- ful justifiable method, extricate themselves from it ? They were most averse to take arms, until they were forced to it in their own defence. And though they were obliged to have recourse to this expedient, yet they never desired to have an opportunity of making use of it ; but, being declared rebels on this account, they were constrained to persevere in it, till the fury of the persecutors drove them to the rising we are now to give an account of. When they found that small meetings were more exposed to danger than greater assemblies, they altered their method, and resolved to assemble in one meeting, in those places which they apprehended stood in most need of the gospel, and where they might meet together with the greatest safety. They who thus assembled were generally those who were averse to the indulgence, and the accepters of it ; and many of them came armed. The orders given to the soldiers, and the severe laws made on account of the Primate’s death, tended to increase their numbers ; hut the divisions occasion- ed by the unhappy indulgence were of great disadvantage to them, and at last proved their ruin. The numbers of the persecuted party on the occasion we refer to being considerably augmented, Mr Robert Hamilton, brother to the Laird of Preston, and some others, moved that something might be done as a testimony against the iniquity of the times. Accordingly, after serious consideration and prayer, they resolved to continue to hear the gospel, notwith- standing all the dangers to which they might be exposed, j and to publish to the world their testimony to the truth and 1 cause which they owned, and against the sins and defections ! of the times. In consequence of this resolution, the said Mr Hamilton, together with Mr Thomas Douglas, one of the I preachers, and about eighty armed men, were pitched upon to go to some public place to publish their declaration, and i burn the papers mentioned in it. They judged that the 29th of May was the most proper time for putting this into execu- tion. Accordingly, on the afternoon of that day, they came to Rutherglen, a small royal burgh two miles from Glasgow, where they extinguished the bonfires,* put their resolution in practice, and affixed a copy of their Declaration to the market-cross.! 1 When this Declaration was published, Mr Hamilton and the rest retired from Rutherglen towards Evandaleand Mew- mills. This affair made a great noise both at Glasgow and Edinburgh. Graham of Claverhouse, (afterwards Viscount Dundee,) having unlimited powers to kill and destroy all he found in arms, came suddenly upon the town of Hamilton on Saturday afternoon, the 31st of May, and in the neighbourhood seized Mr John King, and about fourteen others, who were not in arms, nor had anything laid to their charge. They ft Kindled, on occasion of tho Anniversary observed on that day, in ho- nour of the Restoration. f We have given a copy of tho Declaration here referred to, at No. VIII. of this Appendix, p. 701. APPENDIX. 703 who escaped, and some who joined them in order to rescue Mr King, repaired to the meeting, which they heard was to be at Loudon-hill next day, expecting assistance from thence. Meanwhile Claverhouse, having likewise intelligence of that meeting, and resolving to disperse it, marched early from Ham- ilton on Sabbath morning the first of June, 1679, and carried his prisoners with him, bound two and two, his men driving them before them like so many sheep. Public worship was begun by Mr Douglas when they were informed of Claver- house’s approach. Upon this, all who were armed, resolved to leave the meeting, face the soldiers, and if possible relieve the prisoners. Accordingly, about 40 horse and 150 or 200 foot came up with Claverhouse and his party near Drum- clog, and after a short and close engagement defeated them, and rescued the prisoners. Claverhouse had his horse shot under him, and narrowly escaped ; above 20 of the soldiers were killed, and several taken prisoners, whom they released upon their being disarmed. The countrymen lost not above two or three.* The Battle op Drumclog.+ “ It was on a fair Sabbath morning, 1st June, A. D. 1679, that an assembly of Covenanters sat down on the heathy mountains of Drumclog. We had assembled not to fight, but to worship the God of our fathers. W e were far from the tumult of cities, — the long dark heath waved around us ; and we disturbed no living creatures, saving the pees- weep (tee-wit or lapwing,) and the heathercock. As usual, we had come armed. It was for self-defence. For desperate and ferocious bands made bloody raids through the country, and, pretending to put down treason, they waged war against re- ligion and morals. They spread ruin and havoc over the face of bleeding Scotland. “ The venerable Douglas had commenced the solemnities of the day. He was expatiating on the execrable evils of tyranny. Our souls were on fire at the remembrance of our country’s sufferings and the wrongs of the church. In this moment of intense feeling, our watchman, posted on the neighbouring height, fired his carabine, and ran toward the congregation. He announced the approach of the enemy. We raised our eyes to the minister. 4 1 have done,’ said Douglas with his usual firmness. — 4 You have got the theory, — now for the practice ; you know your duty ; self- defence is always lawful. But the enemy approaches.’ He raised his eyes to heaven and uttered a prayer — brief and emphatic — like the prayer of Richard Cameron, 4 Lord, spare the green, and take the ripe.’ 44 The officers collected their men, and placed themselves each at the head of those of his own district. Sir Robert Hamilton placed the foot in the centre, in three ranks. A company of horse, well armed and mounted, was placed, along with another small squadron on the left. These were drawn back, and they occupied the more solid ground ; as well with a view to have a more firm footing, as to arrest any flanking party that might take them on the wings. A deep morass lay between us and the ground of the enemy. Our aged men, our females, and children, retired ; but they retired slowly. They had the hearts and the courage of the females and children in those days of intense religious feel- ing, and of suffering. They manifested more concern for the fate of relatives, for the fate of the church, than for their own personal safety. As Claverhouse descended from the oppo- site mountain, they retired to the rising ground in the rear of our host. The aged men walked with their bonnets in hand. Their long grey locks waved in the breeze. They sang a cheering psalm. The music was that of the well- known tune of The Martyrs ; and the sentiment breathed defiance. The music floated down on the wind. Our men gave three cheers as they fell into their ranks. Never did I witness such animation in the looks of men. For me, my spouse and my little children were in the rear. My native plains, and the halls of my father, far below, in the dale of Aven, were full in view from the heights which we occupied. My country seemed to raise her voice — the bleeding church seemed to wail aloud. 4 And these,’ I said, as Clavers and * To preserve our narrative unbroken we here introduce the well known and highly graphic account of the Battle of Drumclog — and also the Battle of Bothwell Bridge, at p. 701, — both in the words of the Laird of Torfoot, being perhaps their most appropriate places; not so much, however, as containing an actual history, but as presentingan interesting picture of the eventful scenes, by which we may be aided in forming a right estimate of the characters which they brought into play. t In a few copies of our Plate of this engagement, the date, by an error of the engraver, was made 1760 instead of 1670, as above. liis troops winded slowly down the dark mountain’s side, 4 these are the unworthy slaves, and bloody executioners, by which the tyrant completes our miseries.’ 44 Hamilton here displayed the hero, His portly figure was seen hastening from rank to rank. He inspired courage into our raw and undisciplined troops. The brave Hackston, and Hall of Haugh-head, stood at the head of the foot soldiers, and re-echoed the sentiments of their chief. Burley and Cle- land had inflamed the minds of the horsemen on the left, to a noble enthusiasm. My small troop on the right needed no exhortation ; we were a band of brothers, resolved to con- quer or fall. 44 The trumpet of Clavers sounded a loud note of defiance — the kettle-drum mixed its tumultuous roll— they halted — they made a long pause. We could see an officer with four file conducting fifteen persons from the ranks to a knoll on their left. I could perceive one in black : it was my friend King,) the chaplain of lord * Cardross, who had been taken ‘pfehner by Clavers at Hamilton. 4 Let them be shot through the head,’ said Clavers, in his usual dry way, 4 if they should offer to run away.’ We could see him view our position with great care. His officers came around him. \V e soon learned that he wished to treat with us. He never betrayed symptoms of mercy or of justice, nor offered terms of recon- ciliation, unless when he dreaded that he had met his match ; and even then, it was only a manoeuvre to gain time, or to deceive. His flag approached the edge of the hog. Sir Robert held a flag sacred ; had it been borne by Clavers himself, he had honoured it. He demanded the purpose for which he came. 4 1 come,’ said he, 4 in the name of his sacred majesty, and of colonel Grahame, to offer you a par- don, on condition that you lay down your arms, and deliver up your ringleaders.’ — 4 Tell your officer,’ said Sir Robert, ‘that we are fully aware of the deception he practises. He is not clothed with any powers to treat, nor was he sent out to treat with us, and attempt a reconciliation. The govern- ment against whom we have risen, refuses to redress our grievances, or to restore to us our liberties. Had the tyrant wished to render us justice, he had not sent by the hands of such a ferocious assassin as Claverhouse. Let him, however, show his powers, and we refuse not to treat ; and we shall lay down our arms to treat, provided that he also lay down his. Thou hast my answer.’ — 4 It is a perfectly hopeless case,’ said Burley, while he called after the flag-bearer — 4 Let me add one word by your leave, General. Get thee up to that bloody dragoon, Clavers, and tell him that we will spare his life, and the lives of his troops, on condition that he, your Clavers, lay down his arms, and the arms of these troops. We will do more : as we have no prisons on these wild mountains, we will even let him go on his parole, on condition that he swear never to lift arms against the re- ligion and the liberties of his country.’ A loud burst of applause re-echoed from the ranks; and, after a long pause in deep silence, the army sung the following verses of a psalm : • There, arrows of the bow he brake ; the shield, the sword, the war. More glorious thou than hills of prey, more excellent art far. Those that were stout of heart are spoil'll, they slept their sleep outright ; And none of those their hands did find, that were the men of might.’ 44 When the report was made to Claverhouse, he gave the word with a savage ferocity,, 4 their blood be on their own heads. Be No quarters the word this day.’ His fierce dragoons raised a yell, and 4 iVb quarters' re-echoed from rank to rank, while they galloped down the mountain’s side. It is stated that Burley was heard to say, 4 Then be it so — even let there be No quarters — at least on my wing of the | host. So God send me a meeting,’ cried he aloud, 4 with j that chief under the white plume. My country would bless my memory, could my sword give his villanous carcass to the crows.’ 44 Our raw troops beheld with firmness the approach of the foemen ; and at the moment when the enemy halted to fire, the whole of our foot dropped on the heath. Not a man was seen to remain down, when the order was. given to rise and return the fire. The first rank fired, then kneeled down, while the second fired. They made each bullet tell. As often as the lazy rolling smoke was carried over the enemy’s heads, a shower of bullets fell on his ranks. Many a gallant man tumbled on the heath. The fire was incessant. It re- sembled one blazing sheet of flame, for several minutes, along APPENDIX. 704 the line of the Covenanters. Clavers attempted to cross the morass, and break our centre. ‘ Spearmen ! to the front,’ — I could hear the deep-toned voice of Hamilton say — ‘ Kneel, and place your spears to receive the enemy’s cavalry ; and you, my gallant fellows, fire — God and our Country is our word.’ Our officers flew from rank to rank. Not a peasant gave way that day. As the smoke rolled off, we could see Clavers urging on his men with the violence of despair. His troops fell in heaps around him, and still the gaps were filled up. A galled trooper would occasionally flinch ; but ere he could turn or flee, the sword of Clavers was waving over his head. I could see him, in his fury, strike both man and horse. In the fearful carnage, he himself sometimes reeled. He would stop short in the midst of a movement, then con- tradict his own orders, and strike the man, because he could not comprehend his meaning. “ He ordered flanking parties to take us on our right and left. ‘ In the name of Cod,’ cried he, ‘ cross the bog, and charge them on the flanks, till we get over this morass. If this fail, we are lost.’ “ It now fell to my lot to come into action. Hitherto we had fired only some distant shot. A gallant officer led his band down to the borders of the swamp, in search of a proper place to cross. W e threw ourselves before him. A severe firing commenced. My gallant men fired with great steadi- ness. We could see many tumbling from their saddles. N ot content with repelling the foemen, we found our opportunity to cross, and attack them sword in hand. The Captain, whose name I afterwards ascertained to be Arrol, threw him- self in my path. In the first shock, I discharged my pistols. His sudden start in his saddle, told me that one of them had taken effect. With one of the tremendous oaths of Charles II. he closed with me. He fired his steel pistol. I was in front of him ; — my sword glanced on the weapon, and gave a direction to the bullet, which saved my life. By this time, my men had driven the enemy before them, and had left the ground clear for the single combat. As he made a lounge at my breast, I turned his sword aside, by one of those sweep- ing blows, which are rather the dictate of a kind of instinct of self-defence than a movement of art. As our strokes re- doubled, my antagonist’s dark features put on a look of deep and settled ferocity. No man who has not encountered the steel of his enemy in the field of battle, can conceive the looks and the manner of the warrior, in the moments of his intense feelings. May I never witness them again ! — We fought in silence. My stroke fell on his left shoulder ; it cut the belt of his carabine, which fell to the ground. His blow cut me to the rib, glanced along the bone, and rid me also of the weight of my carabine. He had now advanced too near to me, to be struck with the sword. I grasped him by the collar. I pushed him backward ; and with an entangled blow of my Ferrara, I struck him across his throat. It cut only the strap of his head-piece, and it fell off. AVith a sud- den spring, he seized me by the sword-belt. Our horses reared, and we both came to the ground. We rolled on the heath in deadly conflict. It was in this situation of matters that my brave fellows had returned from the rout of the flank- ing party, to look after their commander. One of them was actually rushing on my antagonist, when I called him to re- tire.* We started to our feet. Each grasped his sword. We closed in conflict again. After parrying strokes of mine enemy which indicated a hellish ferocity, I told him my object was to take him prisoner; that sooner than kill him, I should order my men to seize him. ‘ Sooner let my soul be brandered on my ribs in hell,’ said he, ‘ than be cap- tured by a AVhigamore. No quarter is the word of my Colonel, and my word. Have at thee, AVhig- — I dare the whole of you to the combat.’ ‘ Leave the madman to me — leave the field instantly,’ said I to my party, whom I could hardly restrain. My sword fell on his right shoulder. His sword dropped from his hand. I lowered my sword, and offered him his life. ‘ No quarter ,’ said he, with a shriek of despair, lie snatched his sword, which I held in my hand, and made a lounge at my breast. I parried his blows till he was nearly exhausted ; but gathering up his huge limbs, he put forth all his energy in a thrust at my heart. My Andro Ferrara received it, so as to weaken its deadly force; but it made a deep cut. Though I was faint, with loss of blood, I left him no time for another blow. My sword glanced *-■ It wa« on this occasion that the Laird used these words—" Bauldv Alli- ron ! lot your officer settle this trifle — I never take odda to combat a ioc, be ha even a lile-guard.” on his shoulder, cut through his buff coat, and skin, and flesh ; swept through his jaw, and laid open his throat from ear to ear. The fire of his ferocious eye was quenched in a moment. He reeled, and falling with a terrible clash, he poured out his soul, with a torrent of blood, on the heath. I sunk down insensible for a moment. My faithful men, who never lost sight of me, raised me up. — In the fierce com- bat, the soldier suffers most from thirst. I stooped down, to fill my helmet with the water which oozed through the mo- rass. It was deeply tinged with human blood, which flowed in the conflict above me. I started back with horror ; and Gawn Witherspoon bringing up my steed, we set forward in the tumult of the battle. “ All this while, the storm of war had raged on our left. Cleland and the fierce Burley had charged the strong com- pany sent to flank them. These officers permitted them to cross the swamp, then charged them with a terrible shout. 4 No quarter ,’ cried the dragoons. ‘ Be No quarter to you, then, ye murderous loons,’ cried Burley ; and at one blow he cut their leader through the steel cap, and scattered his brains on his followers. His every blow overthrew a foeman. Their whole forces were now brought up, and they drove the dragoons of Clavers into the swamp. They rolled over each other. All stuck fast. The Covenanters dismounted, and fought on foot. They left not one man to bear the tidings to their Colonel. “ The firing of the platoons had long ago ceased, and the dreadful work of death was carried on by the sword. At this moment, a trumpet was heard in the rear of our army. There was an awful pause ; all looked up. It was only the gal- lant Captain Nisbet,* and his guide, W oodburn of Mains : he had no re-enforcements for us, but himself was a host. With a loud huzza, and flourish of his sword, he placed himself by the side of Burley, and cried, ‘Jump the ditch, and charge the enemy.’ He and Burley struggled through the marsh. The men followed as they could. They formed, and marched on the enemy’s right flank. “ At this instant, Hamilton and Hackstone brought for- ward the whole line of infantry in front. ‘ God and our Country ,’ re-echoed from all the ranks. ‘ No quarters' said the fierce squadrons of Clavers. Here commenced a bloody scene. “ I seized the opportunity this moment offered to me of making a movement to the left of the enemy to save my friend King and the other prisoners. We 'came in time to save them. Our swords speedily severed the ropes which tyranny had bound on the arms of the men. The weapons of the fallen fee supplied what was lacking of arms ; and with great vigour )ye moved forward to charge the enemy on the left flank. Claverhouse formed a hollow square — himself in the centre ; his men fought gallantly ; they did all that soldiers could do in their situation. Wherever a gap was made Clavers thrust the men forward, and speedily filled it up. Three times he rolled headlong on the heath, as he hastened from rank to rank, and as often he re- mounted. My little band thinned his ranks. He paid us a visit. Here I distinctly saw the features and shape of this far-famed man. He was small of stature, and not well formed ; his arms were long in proportion to his legs ; he had a complexion unusually dark ; his features were not lighted up with sprightliness, as some fabulously reported ; the)' seemed gloomy as hell ; his cheeks were lank and deeply furrowed ; his eye-brows were drawn down, and gathered into a kind of knot at their junctions, and thrown up at their extremities ; they had, in short, the strong expression given by our painters to those on the face of Judas Iscariot ; his eyes were hollow ; they had not the lustre of genius, nor the fire of vivacity ; they were lighted up by that dark fire of wrath which is kindled and fanned by an internal anxiety, and consciousness of criminal deeds : his irregular and large teeth were presented through a smile, which was very un- natural on bis set of features ; his mouth seemed to be un- usually large, from the extremities being drawn backward and downward — as if in the intense application to something cruel and disgusting ; in short, his upper teeth projected over his under lip, and, on the whole, presented to my view the mouth on the image of the Emperor Julian the Apostate. — In one of his rapid courses past us, my sword could only shear off his white plume and a fragment of his buff coat. In a moment he was at the other side of his square. Our officers eagerly sought a meeting with him. ‘Tie has the *■ See Life of Hardhil\ p. 084. APPENDIX. 705 proof of lead,’ cried some of our men — ‘ Take the cold steel, or a piece of silver.’ ‘ No,’ cried Burley; ‘ it is his rapid movement on that fine charger that bids defiance to anything like an aim in the tumult of the bloody fray. I could sooner shoot ten heathercocks on the wing, than one flying Clavers.’ At that moment, Burley, whose eye watched his antagonist, pushed into the hollow square. But Burley was too impa- tient. His blow was levelled at him before he came within its reach. His heavy sword descended on the head of Clavers’ horse, and felled him to the ground. — Burley’s men rushed pell-mell on the fallen Clavers, hut his faithful dra- goons threw themselves upon them, and by their overpower- ing force drove Burley back. Clavers was, in an instant, on a fresh steed. His bugleman recalled the party who were driving back the flanking party of Burley. He collected his whole troops to make his last and desperate attack. — He charged our infantry with such force, that they began to reel. It was only for a moment. The gallant Hamilton snatched the white flag of the Covenant, and placed himself in the fore-front of the battle. Our men shouted ‘ God and our Country ,’ and rallied under their flag. They fought like heroes. Clavers fought no less bravely. His blows were aimed at our officers. His steel fell on the helmetof Hackston, whose sword was entangled in the body of a fierce dragoon who had just wounded him. He was borne by his men into j the rear. I directed my men on Clavers. ' Victory or death ,’ was their reply to me. Clavers received us. He struck a desperate blow at me, as he raised himself with all his force in the saddle. My steel cap resisted it The second stroke I received on my Ferrara, and his steel was shivered to pieces. We rushed headlong on each other. His pistol missed fire — it had been soaked in blood. Mine took effect. But the wound was not deadly. Our horses reared. We rolled on the ground. In vain we sought to grasp each other. In the mete, men and horse tumbled on us. We were for a few moments buried under our men, whose eagerness to save their respective officers brought them in multitudes down upon us. By the aid of my faithful man, Gawn, I had ex- tricated myself from my fallen horse ; and we were rushing on the bloody Clavers, when we were again literally buried under a mass of men ; for Hamilton had by this time brought up his whole line, and he had planted his standard where we and Clavers were rolling on the heath. Our men gave three cheers, and drove in the troops of Clavers. Here I was borne along with the moving mass of men ; and, almost suffocated, and faint with the loss of blood, I knew nothing more till I opened my eyes on my faithful attendant. He had dragged me from the very grasp of the enemy, and had borne me into the rear, and was bathing my temples with water. W e speedily regained our friends ; and, what a spectacle presented itself ! It seemed as if I beheld an im- mense moving mass heaped up together in the greatest con- fusion. Some shrieked, some groaned, some shouted, horses neighed and pranced, swords rung on the steel helmets. I placed around me a few of my hardy men, and we rushed into the thickest of the enemy in search of Clavers ; but it was in vain. At that instant his trumpet sounded the loud notes of retreat ; and we saw on a knoll Clavers borne away by his men. He threw himself on a horse, and without sword, without helmet, he fled in the first ranks of the re- treating host. . His troops galloped up the hill in the utmost confusion. My little line closed with that of Burley’s, and took a number of prisoners. Our main body pursued the enemy two miles, and strewed the ground with men and horses. I could see the bareheaded Clavers in front of his men, kicking and straggling up the steep sides of Calder hill. He halted only a moment on the top to look behind him, then plunged his rowels into his horse, and darted forward ; nor did he recover from this panic till he found himself in the city of Glasgow.” “ And, my children,” the Laird would say, after he had told the adventures of this bloody day, I visited the field of battle next day ; I shall never forget the sight. M en and horses lay in their gory beds. I turned away from the hor- rible spectacle. I passed by the spot where God saved my life in the single combat, and where the unhappy Captain Arrol fell. I observed that, in the subsequent fray, the body had been trampled on by a horse, and his bowels were poured out.*- Thus, my children, the defence of our lives, and the * This fact is recorded in Crook shank’s Historv, vol. I. chap. i3. But the author does not mention the name of the Laird by whom Arrol fell. regaining of our liberty and religion, has subjected us to severe trials. And how great must be the love of liberty, j when it carries men forward, under the impulse of self- j defence, to witness the most disgusting spectacles, and to en- \ counter the most cruel hardships of war !” The country people after this action resolved, since they could not separate without evident hazard, to keep together till they saw how matters would turn out. They marched that night to Hamilton, whilst Claverhouse escaped to Glas- gow, and alarmed the soldiers there. Next day, Mr Hamil- ton, and those who joined them in their march, being too much flushed with their success, marched to Glasgow, and entered the town about ten o’clock ; but after six or eight were killed and two or three wounded, they were obliged to quit the ^»lace, and retire to Hamilton, where they pitched a sort of camp. Such was the inhumanity of the soldiers, that seven dead bodies lay on the street from eleven in the forenoon till night ; and when they were taken into houses to he dressed i for their burial, the soldiers came and stripped them of their i dead clothes ; nay, when they permitted them to be buried, j none durst appear to perform this service but women, whom, | notwithstanding, the soldiers attacked, cutting the palls with their swords. When the women used their plaids for palls, the soldiers took their plaids from them. In short, they were obliged to set the coffins in the alms-house, near the High Church, where they continued till the soldiers left Glasgow. Early on the 3d of June, the council met, and having re- ceived a false account of these transactions, issued a pro- clamation against the rebels , as they called them. The council issued another proclamation, ordering the militia to rendezvous, and to join and act with the regular forces, I under severe penalties; and, ordering all the heritors and | freeholders to attend the king’s host, made all preparations I they judged necessary for suppressing the rebellion , as it was termed. On the same day, lord Ross, and the officers in Glasgow, finding that the gathering of the country people still increas- j ed, marched with the forces to Kilsyth, and carried with j them in carts some of the wounded countrymen, who fell into their hands ; and on the 6'th w’ere joined by the earl of j Linlithgow at Larbertmuir ; but being falsely informed that j the west country army was 8,000 strong, they wrote to the council, that it was the general sense of the officers, that his j majesty should be applied to for assistance from England. Meanwhile, matters were so managed at court, that the duke of Monmouth was pitched upon to command an army for suppressing the insurrection. When the council received the news of this, they, on the 1 5th, wrote to court, and pro- posed that Dalziel might be made lieutenant-general under the duke. The success which the countrymen met with at Drumclog, gave opportunity to many to join them from all quarters, consid- ering the necessity there was to 'assist them in this extremity, and that they themselves were liable to the same danger from their enraged enemies. They never, as Mr Wodrow thinks, exceeded 4,000, though Echard would have them to he 17,000 when they were routed at Bothwell ; but then many were but ill armed, and it was their loss that they had not officers who understood the art of war. When the king’s forces left Glasgow, Mr Welch and I several others came thither from Garrick, and interred the bodies of those who had been killed in the late attempt, to- gether with the heads of the sufferers for Pentland. They had showed the like kindness to the heads and hands of those which had been set up at Kilmarnock, Irvine, and Ayr, and were well received by the good people everywhere as they marched along. It being agreed upon to publish a declaration to the world, showing the reasons of their conduct, Mr Hamilton, who took upon him the command, Mr Douglas, Mr Cargil, and some others, were of opinion, that the indulgence should be condemned in it. This, however, was opposed by Mr Welch, the laird of Kaitloch, and others ; but Mr Hamilton and his adherents being more numerous, the following general de- claration was agreed to by the majority : — “ We, who are here providentially convened in our own defence, for preventing and removing the mistakes and mis- apprehensions of all, especially of those whom we wish to he and hope are friends, to declare our present purposes and en- 4 U 706 APPENDIX. deavours to be only in vindication and defence of the true reformed religion in its profession and doctrine, as we stand obliged thereunto by our national and Solemn League and Covenants, and that solemn acknowledgment of sins, and engagement to duties, made and taken in the year 1648, de- claring against popery, prelacy, Erastianism, and all things depending thereupon.” At another meeting, Mr Hamilton, and those of his senti- ments, moved, that they might observe a day of fasting and humiliation before they should be engaged with the enemy. They who were of different sentiments with Mr Hamilton would not agree to his reasons of humiliation, and so no fast was kept. Thus, divisions broke this little army, before they were broken by the enemy. When the cause of their appearing and continuing in arms came to be considered at a meeting of the officers, which they called a council of war, Mr Hamilton and his adherents were for having it stated upon the footing of the Ruthergleh Declaration ; but they who favoured the indulgence proposed, that the king’s authority should be expressly owned, accord- ing to the third article of the Solemn League and Covenant. Against this it was argued, that, as they had made no declar- ation against him, so they must be excused, and not urged to declare positively for him ; especially as he was now in a stated opposition to the interest of Christ, and had, upon the matter, declared war against his people, and all the present opposition, cruelty, and persecution in Scotland, for redress of which they were now appearing, were carried on in his name. The Covenants, they said, only bound them to him in the preservation and defence of the true religion, and the liberties of the kingdoms ; but the king had actually overturned the true religion, set up prelacy and Erastianism, ruined the cove- nanted work of reformation, invaded the liberties of the king- dom, persecuted to the death the assertors of both, and plainly broke the conditions of government sworn at his coronation. To this it was answered, That, in 1638, the Assembly and Covenanters owned the king’s authority, though he had de- clared war against them ; That this method of throwing off the king’s authority would obstruct the redress of their grievances, and frustrate the design of their appearance. But here the reader must observe, that Mr Hamilton and his adherents proposed no declaration against the king’s lawful authority ; they only would not positively mention him or his interest in the declaration : and it is certain, that what they asserted, concerning the king’s opposition to the true religion, &c., was fact. How far their inference was just, must be left with the reader. However, they who opposed Mr Hamilton and his adherents so far prevailed, as on the 13th of June to get a declaration published at Glasgow, called the Hamilton Declaration , wherein the king’s interest is expressly asserted.* The reader may easily see, that this little army must have laboured under great disadvantages from their divisions, when the enemy was coming upon them. Here it will be proper to return to the king’s army. The army under the command of the earl of Linlithgow, being cantoned about Edinburgh, came on the 17th to Kirkhill- park, belonging to lord Cardross, who suffered much at this time by the soldiers. On the 18th, the duke of Monmouth came to Edinburgh, and was admitted a privy- counsellor. On the 19th, he went to the army, and marched slowly to- wards Hamilton. Next day, he sent to the council, com- plaining that their march was retarded for want of provisions, which were accordingly sent him. But some think the rea- sons of his Grace’s slow motions were, because he expected some application to be made to him by those now in arms. On the 20th, the council received a letter from the king, approving of their proceedings, and requiring that they should prosecute the rebels with fire and sword, and all other ex- tremities of war. These orders our managers were ready enough to obey ; and accordingly they transmitted a copy of his majesty’s letter to the duke, whose army then lay within two miles of the Kirk of Shotts, and was about ten thousand strong, which was more than twice the number of those they had to deal with- There were, at this time, pains taken to dispose those in arms to lay before the duke their grievances, with professions of loyalty to the king ; but their discords still increasing did much damage ; for, as the time of action approached, their numbers decreased before the king's army came up. When they heard of Monmouth’s arrival, a motion was made to model their army, and pitch upon such officers as were best * See the Declaration referre 1 to, at p. 705. skilled in military affairs. About this time, a person un- known came into one of their meetings with a paper, as he said, from some ministers and others, which they earnestly desired all might sign. The tenor of it was, “We the offi- cers of the Presbyterian army, do hereby declare, That we have no intention or design to overturn the government, civil or ecclesiastical, whereunto we are solemnly sworn by our national and Solemn League and Covenant ; and that it is our judgment and opinion, that all matters now in controversy be forborne and referred to be determined by their proper judicatories, viz., a free and unlimited parliament, and a lawful General Assembly.” But both these proposals were dropped for a time. On Saturday the 21st, the officers met, and their debates ran higher than ever, though the king’s forces were almost in view. At this meeting it was urged, that all places in the army should be declared vacant, and officers harmoniously chosen, that so they might be entirely united in the time of action. Mr Hamilton, and those of his way of thinking, declared their willingness, on condition of the right stating of the quarrel. Upon this, the indulgence was again brought upon the carpet, and the dispute was carried to such a pitch, that Mr Hamilton, John Paton, William Carmichael, Andrew Turnbull, and some others, left the meeting. Those who remained made choice of a new preses and clerk, and entered upon business ; but were unwilling to nominate officers when so many had withdrawn. However, being acquainted with Monmouth’s willingness to receive applica- tions from them, and that being an affair which could admit of no delay, they unanimously voted a supplication to his Grace, wherein, after giving a general account of their griev- ances, they prayed that some of their number might have liberty, under safe conduct, to come and lay before him their grievances and requests. On Sabbath the 22d, the duke, and his army were come to Bothwell-muir, and their advanced guards to Bothwell town, about a quarter of a mile from the bridge. The countrymen lay encamped on the south of the river Clyde in Hamilton-muir, and had an advanced party ready to dispute the passage at Bothwell-bridge, if the king’s army should attempt it. — Early that morning, Mr David Hume, the Laird of Kaitloch, and some say Mr John Welch in disguise, went to the duke with the supplication. They had easy access, and, besides the supplication, 'prayed, “ That they might be allowed the free exercise of religion, and to attend gospel ordinances dispensed by their own faithful Presbyter- ian ministers without molestation ; that a free Parliament and a free General Assembly, without the clogs of oaths and declarations, should be allowed to meet for settling affairs both in church and state ; and that all those who now are or have been in arms should be indemnified.” The duke heard them patiently, but refused to treat with them till they had laid down their arms, and submitted to the king’s mercy. He sent them back to their friends, and ordered them to bring an answer in half an hour at farthest. In short, when the commissioners came to the army, they renewed their debates, and so no answer was returned. The king’s troops in the mean time had leisure to plant their cannon ; and lord Livingston began the attack on the j bridge with the foot guards. The countrymen stood their ground for nearly an hour, and defended the bridge with great gallantry. Hackston of Rathillet, of their commanders, showed a great deal of bravery upon the occasion ; but their ammunition failing them, and not being properly supported, they were obliged to quite the bridge where their main strength lay. Upon this, the duke ordered the whole army to pass the bridge with the cannon before them, and soon after the whole west country army -was routed. The Battle of Botiiwell Bridge.* It is well known, that after the disastrous event now to be described, when the ranks of the patriotic Whigs were broken by overwhelming forces, and while Dalziel and Clavers swept the south and west of Scotland like the blast of the desert, breathing pestilence and death — the individual wanderers betook themselves to the caves and fastnesses of their rug- ged country. This was their situation chiefly from the year 1680 to the Revolution. The Laird also spent his days in seclusion ; but still he fearlessly attended the weekly assem- blies in the fields, for the worship of Almighty God. What * See footnote at page 097. 1 had he to fear? What more could he lose? His estate had been confiscated. Ilis wife and babes stript by the life- guards of the last remnant of earthly comfort which they could take away ; and himself doomed, as an outlaw, to be executed by the military assassins when taken. He became reckless of the world. “ I have lived,” said he in anguish, “ to see a Prince twice, of his own choice, take the oath of the covenants to support religion and the fundamental laws of the land. I have lived to see that Prince turn traitor to his country, and, with unblushing impiety, order these cove- j nants to be burnt by the hands of the executioner. I have seen him subvert the liberty of my country, both civil and religious. — I have seen him erect a bloody inquisition. The priests, imposed on us by tyranny, instead of wooing us over by the loveliness of religion, have thrown off the bowels of mercy. They occupy seats in the bloody Council. They stimulate the cruelties of Lauderdale, JVPKenzie, and York. Their hands are dipped in blood to the wrists. This Council will not permit us to live in peace. Our property they con- fiscate. Our houses they convert into barracks. They drag free men into chains. They bring no witnesses of our guilt. They invent new tortures to convert us. They employ the thumb-screws and bootkins. If we are silent, they condemn us. If we confess our Christian creed, they doom us to the gibbet. If we offer a defence, a judge rises from the bench, and with his naked sword wounds us.* Not only our sen- tence, but the manner of our execution, is fixed before our trial. In our last moments they command the kettle-drum to beat one continued roll ; and when a strong sense of in- justice extorts a complaint against our barbarous treatment, a military servant of the Council strikes the dying man in his last moments ;+ and, as if this sanguinary process were too slow in exterminating us, I have seen Charles Stuart let loose a brutal soldiery on us — on us who recalled him from exile, and who placed the crown on his head. He has mur- dered our men, our wives, and our children. We have, in- deed, formally renounced this tyrant, by declaring war against him ; but we have hitherto flailed in the attempt to rouse the energies of our sleeping country. It is sunk into a deadly slumber. It has hitherto permitted the tyrant to keep us under martial law. Clavers is our judge, his dragoons are the exe- cutioners ; and these savages do still continue to employ even the sagacity of bloodhounds to hunt us down. — My soul turns away from these loathsome spectacles. They have cut in pieces the friends and companions of my youth. M‘Kail, Kid, and King, are no more. Cameron fell bleeding at my side. Hackston they have butchered. My father, Cargil — they could not spare even thee ! Nor thee, dear young Renwick ! Brown fell by the bloody Clavers, at the feet of his wife and crying babes. I have seen my friends, and those in whose veins my blood ran, fall in the ranks on bloody Bothwell, as the golden flowers of the meadow beneath the mower’s hand. I have seen the greedy axe of the inhuman executioner mangle the limbs of my dearest friends. I have seen the minions of tyranny perform their disgusting service of transporting and suspending, as on shambles, the bleeding limbs of the martyrs. I have seen the hammer of the barbarians fix the heads of my com- panions on thy walls, O bloody Edinburgh ! And oh ! disgusting spectacle ! I have seen these forms, once dear to my soul as the light of heaven, become naked and bleached bones, under the rain and sun. I have lived to see the dreadful effects of civil war. The frequent butcheries in the field and on the scaffold have rendered men callous. The ghastly heads and mangled quarters are set up before the mob. Mothers and children daily feast their eyes with the spectacle ; even delicate females roll their eyes over them without a shudder. Our sufferings are not felt, for the human bosom has lost its feelings.— O God of my fathers ! bend in mercy thine eyes on my bleeding country — and on thy weeping Kirk ! Shall these men spread havoc without bounds ? Shall our blood stream in torrents ? Shall the Stuarts and their slaves bind these chains on the neck of our country and of thy Kirk for ever !” * See an instance recorded in the Life of Robert Garnock. p. 549 of this Edition. t This was exemplified in the case of James Robertson, a merchant in Stonehouse, Lanarkshire, who was executed at Edinburgh on 15th Decem- ber 1682 ; — being condemned on the charge-of holding it as his opinion, that the insurgents at Pentland and Bothwell were not guilty of rebellion. “ When he began to speak on the scaffold, he was interrupted by the ruf- fling of drums; and on his complaining of this, the Town Major struck him with his cane in the most barbarous manner. This abominable rudeness to a dying man, and his patience and composure under it. were the occasion of deep conviction of the evil of persecution, and of serious impressions on the subject of religion in general.” The Laird while he was uttering these words, had thrown himself on his knees. His arms were stretched forward and upward ; his long hair, grey, not by age, but by labours and sorrow, descended on his shoulders ; his eyes, lighted up by hope, in the midst of despondency, were fixed on heaven ; and the tears streaming over his sunburned cheeks, fell in large drops from his beard on his girdle. At this moment his brother John entered with looks which betrayed unusual anxiety. “ My brother,” said he, “ you must resume these weapons, which your studious habits have thrown into the corner. Praying must give j way to fighting now. A trooper advances at full speed, and 1 1 he is followed by a dark column. We have not even time to fly.” — The mind of the Laird, like those of the rest of the wanderers, always brightened up at the approach of danger. “ I guessed some such tidings from that tragedy face of yours,” said he. “ Our perils are so great that they do not allow us time to vent our complaints,” added he, as lie girded on his sword, and put on his helmet. “ Let us reconnoitre — What do I see ? but one trooper. And that motley crowd is a rabble — not a troop. That trooper is not of Clavers’ band ; j nor does he belong to Douglas — nor to Inglis — nor to Stra- chan’s dragoons. He waves a small flag. I can discover the scarlet and blue colour of the Covenanter's flag. — Ha ! welcome you, John Howie of Lochgoin.* — But what news ? — Lives our country? — Lives the good old cause?” — “ Glorious news,” exclaimed Howie, “ Scotland for ever ! She is free. The tyrant James has abdicated. The Stuarts are banished by an indignant nation. — Orange triumphs. Our wounds are binding up. — Huzza ! Scotland and king William, and the Covenant for ever !” The Laird made no reply. He laid his steel cap on the ground, and threw himself on his knees ; he uttered a brief | prayer, of which this was the close : “My bleeding country, and thy wailing Kirk, and my brethren in the furnace, have come in remembrance before thee. For ever lauded be thy name.” “ Hasten to the meeting at Lesmahagow. Our friends behind me, you see, have already set out,” said j Howie. And he set off with enthusiastic ardour to spread the news. “ These news,” said the Laird, after a long pause, while his eyes followed the courser over the plains of Aven, — “ these news are to me as life from the dead. Our martial toils have not been unprofitable, nor has our blood been shed in vain. We have at last roused our sleeping country — we have saved her — we have gained our civil and religious liberties. I feel a fresh vigour poured into my nerves. I feel already the full glow of liberty. I feel that I am a free man, and no tyrant’s slave. The Parliament and the As- ! sembly will, I trust, set all things right again. My forfei- ture shall be restored, and my wife and babes shall surround me in the domestic circle; and, brother John — what is no small affair — I shall now have a respite — far from the horrid din of war — quietly to finish that work, over which I have literally trimmed the midnight lamp, with my sword and musketoon lying before me Gawn Witherspoon,” said the j Laird in a higher tone, “ call my moss-headed hostler, and j let us have our horses. I have a mind to meet my old friends at Lesmahagow. And then, when serious business I is despatched, we can take Bothwell field on our return. It ! will yield me at least a melancholy pleasure to visit the spot where we fought, I trust, our last battle against the enemies of our country, and of the good old cause.” Serious matters of church and state having been discussed at the public meeting, the brothers found themselves, on the fourth day, on the battle ground of Bothwell. “ On that moor,” said the Laird, after a long silence — and, without being conscious of it, he had, by a kind of instinct, natural enough to a soldier, drawn his sword, and was point- j ing with it — “ On that moor the enemy first formed under j 1 Monmouth. There, on the right, Clavers led on the life- 1 j guards, breathing fury, and resolute to wipe off the disgrace of the affair of Drumclog. Dalziel formed his men on that knoll. Lord Livingston led the van of the foemen. We had taken care to have Bothwell Bridge strongly secured by J a barricade, and our little battery of cannon was planted on that spot below us, in order to sweep the bridge. And we j * The grandson of this person (John Howie, the Compiler of the Scots j : Worthies) is the person whom the Great Unknown has been pleased to de- ! signate Old Mortality. But individuals who have been from infancy fami- | I liar with the history of this author of the epitaphs, this repairer of the | j tombs of the martyrs, have never heard him called Old Mortality. There , are comparatively few in the west of Scotland who are not familiar with ' i the name of John Howie.— Old Mortality is his name only in romance. did rake it. The foemen’s blood streamed there. Again j and again the troops of the tyrant marched on, and our can- non annihilated their columns. Sir Robert Hamilton was our commander-in-chief. The gallant general Hackston stood on that spot with his brave men. Along the river, and above the bridge, Burley’s foot and captain Nisbet’s dragoons were stationed. For one hour we kept the enemy in check ; they were defeated in every attempt to cross the Clyde. Livingston sent another strong column to storm the bridge. I shall never forget the effect of one fire from our battery, where my men stood. W e saw the line of the foe advance in all the military glory of brave and beautiful men — the horses pranced — the armour gleamed. In one moment nothing was seen but a shocking mass of mortality. Human limbs and the bodies and limbs of horses were mingled in one huge heap, or blown to a great distance. Another column attempted to cross above the bridge. Some threw themselves into the current. One well-directed fire from Burley’s troops threw them into disorder, and drove them back. Meantime, while we were thus warmly engaged, Hamilton was labouring to bring down the different divisions of our main body into action; but in vain he called on colonel Cleland’s troop — in vain he ordered Henderson’s to fall in — in vain he called on colonel Fleming’s. Hackston fiew from troop to troop — all was confusion ; in vain he be- sought, he intreated, he threatened. Our disputes and fiery misguided zeal, my brother, contracted a deep and deadly guilt that day. The Whig turned his arm in fierce hate that day against his own vitals. Our chaplains, Cargil, and King, and Kid, and Douglas, interposed again and again. Cargil mounted the pulpit ; he preached concord ; he called aloud for mutual forbearance. ‘ Behold the banners of the enemy,’ cried he ; ‘ hear ye not the fire of the foe, and of our own brethren ? Our brothers and fathers are falling beneath their sword Hasten to their aid. See the flag of the Covenant. See the motto in letters of gold — Christ’s Crown and the Covenant. Hear, the voice of your weeping country. Hear the wailings of the bleeding Kirk. Banish discord. And let us, as a band of brothers, present a bold front to the foemen. Follow me, all ye who love your country and the Covenant. I go to die in the fore-front of the battle.’ All the ministers and officers followed him — amidst a flourish of trumpets — but the great body remained to listen to the harangues of the factious. We sent again and again for ammunition. My men were at the last round. Treachery, or a fatal error, had sent a barrel of raisins in- stead of powder.* My heart sunk within me while I be- held the despair on the faces of my brave fellows, as I struck out the head of the vessel. Hackston called his officers to him. We threw ourselves around him. ‘What must be done ?’ said he, in an agony of despair. ‘ Conquer or die,’ we said, as if with one voice. ‘We have our swords yet. Lead back the men then to their places, and let the ensign bear down the blue and scarlet colours. Our God and our Country be the word.’ Hackston rushed forward. We ran to our respective corps — we cheered our men, but they were languid and dispirited. Their ammunition was nearly ex- pended, and they seemed anxious to husband what remained. They fought only with their carabines. The cannons could no more be loaded. The enemy soon perceived this. We saw a troop of horse approach the bridge. It was that of the life-guards. I recognised the plume of Clavers. They ap- proached in rapid march. A solid column of infantry fol- lowed. I sent a request to captain Nisbet to join his troop to mine. He was in an instant with us. — We charged the life-guards. Our swords rung on their steel caps. Many of my brave lads fell on all sides of me. But we hewed down the foe. They began to reel. The whole column was kept stationary on the bridge. Clavers’ dreadful voice was heard — more like the yell of a savage, than the commanding voice of a soldier. He pushed forward his men, and again we hewed them down. A third mass was pushed up. Our ex- hausted dragoons fled. Unsupported, I found myself by the brave Nisbet, and Paton, and Hackston. We looked for a moment’s space in silence on each other. We galloped in front of our retreating men. We rallied them. We pointed to the general almost alone. We pointed to the white and to the scarlet colours floating near him. We cried, '‘God and our Country.' They faced about. We charged Clavers once j more — ‘ Torfoot,’ cried Nisbet, ‘ I dare you to the fore-front * The natives of Hamilton have preserved, by tradition, the name of the merchant who did this disservice to the Covenanters’ army. of the battle.’ We rushed up at full gallop. Our men see- ing this, followed also at full speed. — We broke the enemy’s line, bearing down those files which we encountered. We cut our way through their ranks. But they had now length- ened their front. Superior numbers drove us in. They had gained entire possession of the bridge. Livingston and Dalziel were actually taking us on the flank. — A band had got between us and Burley’s infantry. ‘My friends,’ said Hackston to his officers, ‘ we are last on the field. We can do no more. — We must retreat. Let us attempt, at least, to bring aid to those deluded men behind us. They have brought ruin on themselves and on us. Not Monmouth, but our own divisions have scattered us.’ “ At this moment one of the life-guards aimed a blow at Hackston. My sword received it — and a stroke from Nisbet laid the foeman’s hand and sword in the dust. He fainted and tumbled from his saddle. We reined our horses, and galloped to our main body. But what a scene presented it- self here ! These misguided men had their eyes now fully opened on their fatal errors. The enemy were bringing up their whole force against them. I was not long a near spectator of it ; for a ball grazed my courser. He plunged and reared — then shot off like an arrow. Several of our officers drew to the same place. On a knoll we faced about — the battle raged below us. We beheld our commander doing everything that a brave soldier could do with factious men against an overpowering foe. Burley and his troops were in close conflict with Clavers’ dragoons. We saw him dismount three troopers with his own hand. He could not turn the tide of battle, but he was covering the retreat of these misguided men. Before we could rejoin him, a party threw themselves in our way. Kennoway, one of Clavers’ officers, led them on. ‘ Would to God that this was Grahame himself,’ some of my comrades ejaculated aloud. ‘ He falls to my share,’ said I, ‘ whoever the officer be.’ I advanced — he met me. I parried several thrusts. He re- ceived a cut on the left arm ; and the sword, by the same stroke, shore off one of his horse’s ears; it plunged and reared. We closed again. I received a stroke on the left shoulder. My blow fell on his sword arm. He reined his horse around, retreated a few paces, then returned at full gallop. My courser reared instinctively as his approached. I received his stroke on the back of my Ferrara ; and by a back stroke, I gave him a deep cut on the cheek. And be- fore he could recover a position of defence, my sword fell with a terrible blow on his steel cap. Stunned by the blow, he bent himself forward — and, grasping the mane, he tum- bled from his saddle, and his steed galloped over the field. I did not repeat the blow. His left hand presented his sword ; his right arm was disabled ; his life was given to him. My companions having disposed of their antagonists, (and some of them had two a-piece,) we paused to see the fate of the battle. Dalziel and Livingston were riding over the field, like furies, cutting down all in their way. Mon- mouth was galloping from rank to rank, and calling on his men to give quarter. Clavers, to wipe off the disgrace of Drumclog, was committing fearful havoc. ‘ Can we not find Clavers,’ said Haugh-head. — ‘ No,’ said Captain Paton, ‘ the gallant colonel takes care to have a solid guard of his rogues about him. I have sought him over the field ; but I found him, as I now perceive him, with a mass of his guards about him.’ At this instant we saw our general, at some distance, disentangling himself from the men who had tumbled over him in the mele,. His face, and hands, and clothes, were covered with gore. He had been dismounted, and was fighting on foot. We rushed to the spot, and cheered him. Our party drove back the scattered bands of Dalziel. ‘ My friends,’ said Sir Robert, as we mounted him on a stray horse, ‘ the day is lost ! But — you, Patou ; you, Brownlee of Tor- foot, and you, Haugh-head — let not that flag fall into the hands of these incarnate devils. We have lost the battle, but, by the grace of God, neither Dalziel nor Clavers shall say that he took our colours. My ensign has done his duty. He is down. This sword has saved it twice. I leave it to your care. You see its perilous situation.’ He pointed with his sword to the spot. We collected some of our scattered troops, and flew to the place. The standardbearer was down, but he was still fearlessly grasping the flag staff, while he was borne upright by the mass of men who had thrown themselves in fierce contest around it. Its well known blue and scarlet colours, and its motto, Christ’s Crown and Covenant, in I brilliant gold letters, inspired us with a sacred enthusiasm. APPENDIX. 709 We gave a loud cheer to the wounded ensign, and rushed into the combat. The redemption of that nag cost the foe many a gallant man. They fell beneath our broad swords ; and, with horrible execrations dying on their lips, they gave up their souls to their Judge. “ Here I met in front that ferocious dragoon of Clavers named Tam Halliday, who had more than once, in his raids plundered my halls ; and had snatched the bread from my weeping babes. He had just seized the white staff of the flag. But his tremendous oath of exultation, (we of the covenant never swear) — his oath had scarcely passed its pol- luted threshhold, when this Andro Ferrara fell on the guard of his steel, and shivered it to pieces. ‘ Recreant loon !’ said I, ‘ thou shalt this day remember thy evil deeds.’ An- other blow on his helmet laid him at his huge length, and made him bite the dust. In the mele that followed, I lost sight of him. We fought like lions — but with the hearts of Christians. While my gallant companions stemmed the tide of battle, the standard, rent to tatters, fell across my breast. I tore it from the staff, and wrapt it round my body. We cut our way through the enemy, and carried our general off the field. “ Having gained a small knoll, we beheld once more the dreadful spectacle below. Thick volumes of smoke and dust rolled in a lazy cloud over the dark bands mingled in deadly fray. It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. In the struggle of my feelings I turned my eyes on the general and Paton. I saw, in the face of the latter, an indescribable conflict of passions. His long and shaggy eyebrows were drawn over his eyes. His hand grasped his sword. ‘ I cannot yet leave the field,’ said the undaunted Paton ; ‘ with the general’s permission, I shall try to save some of our wretched men beset by those hellhounds. Who will go ? — At Kilsyth I saw service. When deserted by my troop, I cut my way through Montrose’s men, and reached the spot where colonels Halket and Strachan were. We left the field together. Fifteen dragoons attacked us. We cut down thirteen, and two fled. Thirteen next assailed us. We left ten on the field, and three fled. Eleven Highlanders next met us. We paused and cheered each other. ‘ Now, Johnny,’ cried Halket to me, ‘ put forth your metal, else we are gone.’ Nine others we sent after their comrades, and two fled.* Now, who will join this raid? ‘ I will be your leader,’ said Sir Robert, as we fell into the ranks. — We marched on the enemy’s flank. ‘Yonder is Clavers,’ said Paton, while he directed his courser on him. The bloody man was, at that moment, nearly alone, hacking to pieces some poor fellows already on their knees disarmed, and imploring him by the common feelings of humanity to spare their lives. He had just finished his usual oath against their ‘ feelings of human- ity,’ when Paton presented himself. He instantly let go his prey, and slunk back into the midst of his troopers. Having formed them he advanced : we formed and made a furious onset. At our first charge his troop reeled. Clavers was dismounted. — But at that moment Dalziel assailed us on the flank and rear. Our men fell around us like grass before the mower. The buglemen sounded a retreat. Once more in the mele I fell in with the general and Paton. We were covered with wounds. We directed our flight in the rear of our broken troops. By the direction of the general I had unfurled the standard. It was borne off the held flying at the sword’s point. But that honour cost me much. I was assailed by three fierce dragoons ; five followed close in the rear. I called to Paton, — in a moment he was by my side. I threw the standard to the general, and we rushed on the foe. They fell beneath our swords ; but my faithful steed, which had carried me through all my dangers, was mortally wounded. He fell. I was thrown in among the fallen enemy. I fainted. I opened my eyes on misery. I found myself in the presence of Monmouth — a prisoner — with other wretched creatures, awaiting in awful suspense, their ulti- mate destiny.” Thus the rebellion at Bothwell, as it was called, was sup- pressed. There cannot be any just account given of the number of the slain, because they were murdered up and down the fields as the soldiers met them. It was reckoned that 400 were killed, and 1200 surrendered prisoners on * See this chivalrous defence recorded, in the life of Captain Paton, p. 5C0 of this Edition. This celebrated officer was trained up to warfare in the army of Charles Gustavus, King of Sweden, and affords a good speci- men of those heroic Whigs who brought about the Revolution of 1088. the muir, who were not only disarmed and stripped almost naked, but made to lie down flat on the ground, and not suffered to change their posture. If any of them so much as raised himself, he was shot dead in an instant. There had been a much greater slaughter, had it not been for the duke, and the interest of several noblemen and gentlemen at that time with his Grace. Nevertheless, great were the severities used by the soldiers, as the following glaring in- stances will evince: — Mr William Gordon of Earlstoun, having his affairs to settle, could not join the country army, j but sent his son, Mr Alexander, before, who was in the action. I Mr William, not knowing of the disaster of the west country army, and riding as quickly as he could to join them, was met by a party of English dragoons, and, refusing to surren- der, was killed on the spot. His friends could not get him buried with the rest of his family, and therefore he lies in- terred in the church-yard of Glassford, A pillar was erected over his grave, but no inscription was suffered to be upon it. Mr (afterwards Sir) Alexander Gordon narrowly escaped, by means of one of his tenants, who, knowing him as he rode through Hamilton after the defeat, made him dismount, put his horse furniture into a dunghill, and obliged him to put on women’s clothes, and rock the cradle, by which means he was preserved. Several were murdered in cold blood by the soldiers, that same day, on the road near Hamilton. They were going to hear sermon in the camp, and had no arms, not knowing that the soldiers had got over the river, particularly James Scouller and Gavin Semple in the parish of Glassford, John Browning, Robert Stobo, William Hamilton, Robert Steil, William Pate, and Archibald Dick, from the parish of Evandale, and Robert Findlay in that of Stonehouse. Next day, Arthur Inglis in Cambusnethan, reading his Bible in a furrow, was supposed to be a whig by the soldiers who hap- pened to perceive him, and therefore one of them fired from a distance but missed him. The good man looked about and not offering to move, the soldiers came and clave him through the skull, and so despatched him ; and indeed they scarcely spared any they met with near the field of battle. Dreadful were the consequences of this fatal action ; and had it not been for Monmouth’s lenity, they had been much greater ; for some of the officers proposed to burn Glasgow, Hamilton, and the country round Bothwell-bridge : but the general rejected the proposal with indignation. Most of the gentlemen in the western shires were brought to trouble. Sir Thomas Stuart of Coltness, son to Sir James Stuart, who was provost of Edinburgh, was obliged to retire to Holland, orders being issued for apprehending him, though neither he nor any of his servants were there. Dalziel’s commission to be lieutenant-general came down on the day of battle. The Laird of Lundin brought the first news of the action to the council, who immediately sent despatches to Lauderdale, and wrote to colonel Struthers in N orthumberland, to secure the borders, stop and imprison the rebels, and give what orders he thought proper to ac- complish this end. The prisoners taken at Bothwell, among whom was Mr John Kid, were sent to Edinburgh. In their journey they were generally tied two and two, made a gazing-stock in the places through which they passed, and exposed to the cruel mockings of the profane, who said, “ Where is now your God? Take him up now, and Mr Welch, who said you should win the day;” though Mr Welch never said any such thing. When they came to Edinburgh, the council ordered the magistrates to put them into the Inner Gray-friars’ church-yard with proper sentinels over them, viz. twenty- four to guard them at night, and eight in the day-time. The officers were to keep a list of the sentinels, that, if any of the prisoners should escape, the sentinels should throw the dice, and answer body for body. The officers were to be account- able for the sentinels, and the town of Edinburgh for the officers. These orders were put in execution, and the pris- oners were all carried to the place appointed, except a few who were put in prison, and continued in that enclosure near five months, mostly in the open air. Here they generally stood all day, and lay all night on the cold ground, without any other accommodation ; and, if any of them, in the night- time, had raised their heads for a little ease, the soldiers were sure to fire at them. It would be endless to recount all their hardships, and with what difficulty persons were allowed to bring them any necessary provisions, and how the women were insulted and abused by the soldiers. It APPENDIX. 710 was esteemed a singular favour, that some huts made of deals were set up for them a few weeks before they were brought out of this place. On the 26th, a proclamation was issued against the rebels, as they called them. Many names were inserted in this proclamation, and, among others, that of Mr John King. The two brothers of the earl of Galloway were also named in it ; but the council afterwards declared, they had made it appear that they were not in the rebellion. This proclamation made way for the soldiers to commit many cruelties through the country. A great many parties were dispersed through the west and south, but none were so noted for their barbarities as Claverhouse, and those under his command. Accordingly, upon any frivolous in- formation, they attacked the houses of those whom they pretended had been in the rising, especially through the shire of Ayr, which had suffered so much the last year by the Highland host. Claverhouse, marching into Galloway, with some English dragoons, scarcely made any distinction between those who had been at Bothwell and others, seized all the horses they could find, plundered the houses, particularly in the parishes of Carsphairn, Balmaclellan, and Glencairn ; ravages, mur- der, and the most atrocious barbarities marking his progress. Soon after this, the duke of Monmouth published a par- don and indemnity to all tenants and subtenants who had been at Bothwell, in case they submitted themselves against such a day. There was likewise a bond required of the heritors in the west country, obliging themselves to use their utmost for securing those who did not accept of this favour. But as few of the tenants chose to venture themselves into the hands of the magistrates at that time, so the heritors chiefly concerned, refused the bond. On the 6th, the duke took his leave of the council, and in two or three days re- turned to England. No. VIII. The Declaration and Testimony of some of the true Presbyterian party in Scotland, published at Rutherglen, May 29th, 1679. “ As the Lord hath been pleased to keep and preserve his interest in this land, by the testimony of faithful witnesses from the beginning, so some in our days have not been want- ing, who, upon the greatest of hazards, have added their testimony to the testimony of those who have gone before them, and who have suffered imprisonments, finings, forfeit- ures, banishment, torture, and death from an evil and perfi- dious adversary to the church and kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ in the land. Now we being pursued by the same adversary for our lives, while owning the interest of Christ, according to his word, and the national and Solemn League and Covenants, judge it our duty (though unworthy, yet hoping we are true members of the church of Scotland) to add our testimony to those of the worthies who have gone before us, in witnessing against all things that have been done publicly in prejudice of his interest, from the beginning of the work of reformation, especially from the year 1648 downward to the year 1660. But more particularly those since, as “ 1. Against the act rescissory, for overturning the whole covenanted reformation. “ 2. Against the acts for erecting and establishing of ab- jured prelacy. “ 3. Against that declaration imposed upon, and subscribed by all persons in public trust, where the covenants are re- nounced and condemned. “ 4. Against the act and declaration published at Glasgow, for outing of the faithful ministers who could not comply with prelacy, whereby 300 and upwards of them were ille- gally ejected. “ 5. Against that presumptuous act for imposing an holy anniversary day, as they call it, to he kept yearly upon the 29th of May, as a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving for the king’s birth and restoration ; whereby the appointers have intruded upon the Lord’s prerogative, and the observers have given the glory to the creature that is due to our Lord Re- deemer, ind rejoiced over the setting up an usurping power to the destroying the interest of Christ in the land. “ 6. Against the explicatory act, 1669, and the sacrilegious supremacy enacted and established thereby. “ Lastly. Against the acts of council, their warrants and instructions for indulgence, and all other their sinful and un- lawful acts, made and executed by them, for promoting their usurped supremacy. “ And, for confirmation of this our testimony, we do this day, being the 29th of May, 1679, publicly at the cross of Rutherglen, most justly burn the above mentioned acts, to evidence our dislike and testimony against the same, as they have unjustly, perfidiously, and presumptuously burned our sacred covenants. “ And, we hope, none will take exception against our not subscribing this our testimony, being so solemnly published ; since we are always ready to do in this as shall be judged necessary, by consent of the rest of our suffering brethren in Scotland.” No. IX. Account of the Skirmish at Airsmoss, 1680.* We, getting notice of a party out seeking us, sent two on. ! Wednesday night, late, to know their motion, and lay on a j moor side all night. On Thursday, about ten hours, we went to take some meat, and sent out other two, and desired them to consult with the former two, who had not come to us, but were lying down to sleep. They all four returned and told us it was unnecessary to send any for intelligence, they having se- cured it. Whereupon, after we had gotten some meat, we came to a piece of grass and lay down, and presently we were all alarmed that they were upon us. and so making ready, we saw them coming fast on, and that about three or four hours in the afternoon, and each one resolving to fight, I rode off to seek a strength for our advantage, and being desired by a country- ! man to go into such a place for the best strength, I went and they followed ; but coming to it I found we could go no far- ther. and so turning and drawing up quickly, eight horse on the right hand with R. D., and fifteen on the left with me, there being no more, the foot, not being forty and many of them ill- armed, — in the midst, I asked all if they were willing to fight, who all said. Yes ; especially J. G. The enemy, whom I took to be above an hundred and twelve, well armed, and horsed, advanced fast, and sent first about twenty dragoons, on foot, to take the wind of us ; which we seeing, sent a party on foot to meet them, and the rest of us advanced fast on the enemy a strong body of horse coming hard on us ; whereupon, when we were joined, our horse fired first, and wounded and killed some of them, both horse and foot. Our horse advanced to their faces, and we fired on each other. I being foremost, after receiving their fire, and finding the horse behind me broken, rode in amongst them, and went out at a side, without any wrong or wound. I was pursued by severals, with whom I fought a good space ; sometimes they following me, and sometimes I following them. At length my horse bogged, and the foremost of theirs, which was David Ramsay, one of my acquaintance. We both being on foot, fought it with small swords, without advantage of one another: but at length closing, I was stricken down with three on horse- back behind me, and received three sore wounds on the head, and so falling he saved my life, which I submitted to. They searched me, and carried me to their rear, and laid me down, where I bled much, — where were brought severals of their men sore wounded. They gave us all testimony of being brave resolute men. What more of our men were killed 1 did not see, nor know, but as they told me after, the field was theirs. I was brought toward Douglas. They used me civilly, and brought me drink out of an house by the way. At Douglas, Janet Clellan was kind to me, and brought a chir- urgeon to me, who did but little to my wounds, only staunch- ing the blood. Next morning, I was brought to Lanark, and brought be- fore Dalziel, Lord Ross, and some others, who asked many questions at me : but I not satisfying them with answers, Dalziel did threaten to roast me ; and, carrying me to the tol- booth, caused bind me most barbarously, and cast me down, where I lay till Saturday morning, without any, except soldiers, being admitted to speak to me, or look my wounds, or give me any ease whatsoever. And next morning they brought me and John Pollock, and other two of us, near two * This paper, from the pen of ITacUston of Rathillet, who commanded the Presbyterians on the occasion to which it refers, is preserved in the j Appendix to vol. II. of Wodrow's History APPENDIX. 711 miles on foot, I being without shoes, when the party, which had broken us at first, received us. They were commanded by Earshall. We were horsed, civilly used by them on the way, and brought to Edinburgh about four in the afternoon, and carried about the north side of the town, to the foot of the Canongate, where the town magistrates were who re- ceived us ; and setting me on an horse with my face backward, and the other three bound on a goad of iron, and Mr Cameron’s head carried on a halbert before me, and another head in a sack, which I knew not, on a lad’s back ; they carried us up the street to the Parliament close, where I was taken down, and the rest loosed. No. X. Declaration, published at Glasgow, June 13 th, 1679. As it is not unknown to a great part of the world how happy this Church of Scotland was while she enjoyed the ordinances of Jesus Christ in purity and power, of the which we have been deplorably deprived by the establish- ment of prelacy ; so it is evident, not only to impartial per- sons, but to professed enemies, with what unparalleled pa- tience and constancy the people of God have endured all the cruelty, injustice, and oppression, that the wit and malice of prelates and malignants could invent and exercise, and being most unwilling to act anything which might import oppo- sition to lawful authority, or engage the kingdom in war al- though we have been all along groaning under the overturn- ing the work of Reformation, corruptions in doctrine, slight- ing of worship, despising of ordinances, changing of the ancient church discipline and government, thrusting out of so many of our faithful ministers from their charges, confining, straitly imprisoning, exiling, yea, and putting to death many of them, and intruding upon their flocks a company of insufficient and scandalous persons, and fining, confining, imprisoning, tor- turing, tormenting, scourging, and stigmatizing poor people, plundering their goods, quartering upon them by rude sol- diers, selling of their persons to foreign plantations, horning and intercommuning many of both ; whereby great numbers in every corner of the land were forced to leave their dwell- ings, wives, children, and relations, and made to wander as pilgrims, still in hazard of their life, none daring to reset, harbour, supply (though starving), or so much as to speak to them, even on death-bed, without making themselves ob- noxious to the same punishments; and these things acted under colour of law, in effect tending to banish, not only all sense of religion, but also to extinguish natural affection, even amongst persons of nearest relations, and likewise groaning under the intolerable yoke of oppression, in our civil interests, our bodies, liberties, and estates, so that all manner of outrages have been most arbitrarily exercised up- on us, through a tract of several years hypast, particularly in the year 1678, by sending against us an armed host of bar- barous savages, contrary to all law and humanity, and by laying on us several impositions and taxes, as formerly, so of late by a meeting of prelimited and overawed members, in the convention of estates in July, 1678, for keeping up of an armed force, intrusted as to a great part of it, into the hands of avowed papists, or favourers of them, whereby sun- dry invasions have been made upon us, and most exorbitant abuses and incredible insolencies committed against us, and we being continually sought after, while meeting in houses for divine worship, ministers and people frequently appre- hended, and most rigorously used ; and so being necessitate to attend the Lord’s ordinances in fields, in the most desert places, and there also often hunted out, assaulted to the effu- sion of our blood, and killing of some, we were inevitably constrained, either to defend ourselves by arms, at these meetings, or be altogether deprived of the gospel preached by his faithful ministers, and made absolute slaves ; at one of which meetings, upon the first day of June instant, (being the Lord’s day,) captain Graham of Claverhouse being war- ranted, by a late proclamation, to kill whomsoever he found in arms at field conventicles making resistance, did furiously assault the people assembled ; and further to provoke, did cruelly bind, like beasts, a minister, with some other people, whom he had that very same morning found in their houses, and severals being killed on both sides, and they knowing certainly, that by law they behoved to die (if apprehended), they did stand to their own defence, and continued together, and thereafter many of our friends and countrymen being under the same oppression, and expecting the same measures, did freely offer their assistance. We therefore thus inevita- bly, and of absolute necessity, forced to take this last remedy (the magistrate having shut the door by a law against any application, that whatever our grievances be, either in things civil or sacred, we have not the privilege of a supplicant), do judge ourselves bound to declare, that these, with many other horrid grievances in church and state, (which we purpose to manifest more fully hereafter,) are the true causes of this our lawful and innocent self-defence. And we do most solemnly, in the presence of the almighty God the searcher of hearts, declare, that the true reasons of our continuing in arms, are candidly and sincerely these : — 1st. The defending and secur- ing the true protestant religion, and presbyterian government founded on the word of God, and summarily comprehended in our confessions of faith and catechism, and established by the laws of this land, to which king, nobles and people are solemnly sworn, and engaged in our national and Solemn League and Covenants, and more particularly the defending and maintaining of the kingly authority of our Lord Jesus Christ over his church against all sinful supremacy, deroga- tory thereto, and encroaching thereupon. 2dly. The pre- serving and defending the king’s majesty’s person and au- thority in the preservation and defence of the true religion and liberties of the kingdom, that the world may bear wit- ness, with our consciences, of our loyalty, and that we have no thoughts nor intentions to diminish his just power and greatness. 3dly. The obtaining of a free and unlimited par- liament, and of a free general assembly, in order to the re- dressing of our foresaid grievances, for preventing the danger of popery, and extirpation of prelacy. This therefore being the cause we appear for, and resolved, in God’s great name, to own (hereby homologating all the testimonies of our faith- ful sufferers for truth in Scotland, these eighteen years) to- gether with acknowledgment of sins, and engagement of duties, we humbly request the king’s majesty would restore all things as he found them, when God brought him home ' to his crown and kingdoms ; and if that cannot be obtained, then we heartily and humbly invite, intreat, beseech, and ohtest, in the bowels of Jesus Christ, all who are under the I same bonds with us, to concur in the defence of this common i cause and interest, and that they would not stand still, and J see, not only us oppressed, but this foresaid cause ruined, j adversaries highly and proudly insult against God and all j good men, friends of the truth discouraged, yea, the protes- j tant cause in Britain and Ireland, and even yourselves, with- in a little time, made a prey of, or else forced, when we are broken, (which the good Lord prevent) dreadfully to wrong your consciences. Finally. Because we desire no man’s hurt nor blood, we request our countrymen, now the standing forces of this kingdom, some of them being our friends and kinsmen, not to fight against us, lest in so doing they be found fighting against the Lord, whose cause and quarrel we are sure he will own and signally countenance, seeing we fight under his banner who is the Lord of hosts. No. XI. Queensferry Paper, June Ath, 1680. We undersubscribers, for ourselves and all that shall adhere to us, or join with us, being put to it by God, our own con- sciences, and men, and following the examples of God’s peo- ple, registrate in his word in such cases ; we are resolved (having acknowledged and obtained mercy, we trust, for our former breaches of covenants with God) to bind ourselves with a solemn and sacred bond, lest upon the one hand, we should be carried away with the stream of the defection of this time, that neither minds bypast vows, nor intends per- formance, but are going a quite contrary way of seeking their own things : and on the other hand, lest we should wander, evanish into vanity, and come to nothing, not having any fixed limits and end proposed to ourselves ; and as we re- solve to covenant with and before God, so to declare before the world, what are the designs we propose to pursue, if God shall give us power and success, that men (knowing) if they will know, our inward thoughts and utmost end, and our way from the one to the other, may not be at a trouble or un- certainty to find us out, and may have no occasion to mis- judge, nor misrepute us that are friends, and those that have the glory of God before their eyes (as we may have no cause to be jealous of our intentions) and that our enemies with their associate backsliders (sometime professed friends) may not have ground to load us with foul and odious aspersions, but that all knowing the truth of things, those who oppose the kingdom of God with us, may do it without excuse, and those who join with us, may do it on solid grounds, and in hazarding their perishing lives, may know they do not die as fools : it is true the unmindfulness, failing, counteracting, and mocking that has been in our former vows and covenants with God, together with great spiritual judgments that have fol- lowed both upon professors and ministers, and the great tem- poral judgments that are like to follow, puts us to some stop ; so that we cannot but with much trembling of heart renew our covenant, or engage anew, especially considering our own weakness and hazard ; yet the clear conviction of duty, zeal to God’s glory, and love to Christ’s reigning, which is the highest and greatest duty that a man can perform to God, I trusting in his mercy, who knows the integrity and rightness of our intentions, will both instruct, enable, accept, preserve, and prosper us : we go on declaring those, and nothing but those to be our present purposes. First. We covenant and swear, that we acknowledge and avouch the only true and living God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost to be our God, and that we close with his way of redemption by his Son Jesus Christ, and rely upon his righteousness, as that righteousness only whereby a man can be justified before God ; and that we acknowledge the scrip- tures of the Old and New Testament to be by divine revela- tion, and to contain the will of God to man, and anent men ; and that we take those scriptures to be the only object matter of our faith, and rule of our conversation in all things, and that we do give up ourselves to God, to be renewed, instruct- ed by his grace, and ruled in all things by his Spirit accord- ing to his word, and shall earnestly endeavour to render him that love, worship, and obedience that his word requires, and his goodness obliges us to. Secondly. That we shall, to the utmost of our power, ad- vance the kingdom of God (if at any time God shall give us power) by establishing throughout the lands, righteousness, and the true reformed religion, in the truth of its doctrine, in the purity and power of its worship and ordinances, its right government and discipline, and that we shall free the church of God from the tyranny and corruption of prelacy on the one hand, and the thraldom and encroachments of Eras- tianism upon the other hand ; and that we shall, to the utmost of our power, relieve the church and our brethren, the sub- jects of this kingdom (God authorizing and calling us to this, by his raising us up, and giving us power and success in re- moving those who by their transgression have forfeited their authority) of that oppression that hath been exercised upon their consciences, civil rights and liberties, that men may I serve God holily without fear, and possess their civil rights peaceably without disturbance. Thirdly. That we confess with our mouth, and believe j with our hearts, the doctrine of the reformed churches, espe- cially that of Scotland, contained in the Scriptures, summed | up in our confessions of faith, and engaged to by us in our I covenants, is the only true doctrine of God, and that we pur- pose to persevere in it to the end : and that the pure worship required and prescribed in the scriptures without the inventions, additions, adomings, or corruptions of men, is the only true worship of God, and the presbyterian government exercised by lawful ministers and elders in kirk-sessions, presbyteries, synods, and general assemblies, is the only right government of the church, and that this government is a distinct govern- ment from the civil, and ought distinctly to be exercised, not after a carnal manner by the plurality of votes, or authority of •a single person, but according to the word of God ; so that the word makes and carries the sentence, and not plurality of votes. Fourthly. That we shall endeavour, to our utmost, the overthrow of the kingdom of darkness, and whatever is con- trary to the kingdom of Christ, especially idolatry and popery in all the articles of it, as we are bound in our national cove- nants, superstition, will-worship and prelacy, with its hier- archy, as we are bound in our Solemn League and Covenant, and that we shall with the same sincerity endeavour the overthrow of that power (it being no more authority) that hath established, and upholds that kingdom of darkness, that prelacy, to wit, and Erastianism over the church, and hath *exercised such a lustful and arbitrary tyranny over the sub- jects, taken all power in their hand, that they may at their plejjiare introduce popery in the church, as they have done arbitrary government in the state. And in a word, that we shall endeavour the extirpation of all the works of darkness, and the relicts of idolatry and superstition (which are much enlarged and revived in those times) and execute righteous judgment impartially (according to the word of God, and degree of offences) upon committers of those things, espe- cially, to wit, the blasphemy, idolatry, atheism, sorcery, per- jury, uncleanness, profanation of the Lord’s day, oppression, and malignancy, that thus being zealous of God’s glory, he may delight to dwell in the midst of us. Fifthly. Seriously considering, that the hand of our kings, and rulers with them, hath been of a long time against the throne of the Lord, and that the Lord, upon this account, has declared that he will have war with them for ever, and has commanded his people utterly to root them out ; and con- sidering that the line and succession of our king and rulers hath been against the power and purity of Religion, and godliness, and Christ’s reigning over his church, and its free- dom, and so against God, and hath degenerate from that virtue, moderation, sobriety and good government, which was the tenor and right by which their ancestors kept their crowns (for when they left that, they themselves were laid aside, as our chronicles and registers do record) into an idle and sinful magnificence, where the all and only government is to keep up their own absoluteness and tyranny, and to keep on a yoke of thraldom upon the subjects, and to squeeze from them their substance to uphold their lustful and pompous superfluities : we having no better nor greater way at this time of manifesting our public siding with, and loving of God, nor seeing a more speedy way of relaxation from the wrath of God (that hath ever lain heavy on us, since we engaged with him) but of rejecting of them, who have so manifestly rejected God (especially of late) and his service and reforma- tion, as a slavery, as they themselves call it in their public papers, especially in their late letters to the king and duke of Lauderdale, disclaiming the covenants with God, and blasphemously enacted it to be burned by the hand of the hangman, governed contrary to all right laws divine and human, exercised such tyranny and arbitrary government, so oppressed men in their consciences and civil rights, used free subjects, Christian and reasonable men, with less discretion than their beasts, and so not only frustrate the end of govern- ment, which is, that men may live peaceably and godly under them (this being the end of government, to maintain every one in their rights and liberties against wrongs and injuries) but have done directly opposite to it, by enacting and com- manding impieties, injuries, and robberies, to the denying of God his due, and the subjects their godliness and peace ; so that instead of government, godliness, and peace, there is no- thing but rapine, tumult and blood; so that now it cannot be called a government, but a lustful rage, exercised with as little right reason, and more cruelty than in beasts ; and they themselves can no more be called governors, but public grassators, and public judgments, which all ought to set themselves against, as they would do against pestilence, sword, and famine raging among them ; for they are like those, and bring those ; and as they have exercised no good govern- ment, nor administered justice, so on the other hand, they have stopped the course of law and justice against blasphemers, idolaters, atheists, sorcerers, murderers, incestuous and adul- terous persons, and other malefactors ; and instead of reward- ing the good, have made butcheries and murders upon the Lord’s people, sold them as slaves, imprisoned, forfeited, fined, banished, &c., and that upon no other account, but for maintaining Christ’s right of ruling over their consciences against the usurpations of men, for fulfilling their vows, re- ( pelling unjust violence (which innocent nature allows every | creature) of all which particulars we can give (we speak be- I fore God) innumerable and sure instances. But that we may see if there be anything that stands in j our way, there are but three things that seem to have weight that we know. First. Whether the deed and obligation of j our ancestors can bind us. Secondly. W hether the covenant j doth bind us either to this man or his posterity. And Thirdly. Whether there yet be any hope of them and their posterity. 1. As to the first. Our ancestors their transactions and obligations neither did, nor could bind us, they did not buy their liberty and conquest with our thraldom and slavery; nor could they, liberty and freedom being a benefit next to life, if not in some regard above it, that they could not give it away more than our lives, neither is it in the power of APPENDIX. 713 parents to bind their posterity to anything that is so much to their prejudice, and against their natural liberty. It is other- wise indeed in things moral. Neither did they bind us to anything but to a government, which they then esteemed the best for the commonwealth and subjects ; and when this ceaseth, we are free to choose another, if we see it more con- ducible for that end, and more free of these inconveniences. *2dly. The covenant doth not, for it only binds us to maintain our king in the maintenance of the true established and cove- nanted religion ; and this we have not : neither can they re- quire homage upon the account of the covenant, having re- nounced and disclaimed that covenant : and we being no otherwise bound, the covenant being the coronation com- pact without the swearing and sealing of which our fathers, or rather we ourselves refused to receive him for king, and them for rulers; and if they were free to refuse him for king upon the account of not subscribing of that covenant, we are much more free to reject him upon his renouncing of it, this being the only way of receiving the crown of Scot- land ; and reigning also, not being an inheritance that passes from father to son without the consent of tenants, but an (and the more men plead for this, the more we are concerned to look to it) office, which, all say, is given ad culpam , non ad vitam. And for the 3d, Neither is there any hope of their return from these courses, having so often showed their natures and enmities against God and all righteousness, and having so oft declared and renewed their purposes and pro- mises of persevering in those courses : and suppose they should dissemble a repentance of those things, and profess to return to better courses, being put to straits, and for their own ends (for upon no other account can we reasonably ex- pect it : ) supposing also, that there might be pardon for that which is done, which we cannot see can be without the vio- lation of God’s law, and the laying on of a great guiltiness upon the land, for the omitting of the execution of so deserved and so necessarily requisite a justice, from which guiltiness the land cannot be cleansed or made free, but by executing of God’s righteous judgment upon them : but supposing that it might, they cannot now be believed, after they have violated all ties that human wisdom can devise to bind men. And besides, who sees not somewhat of folly to be in this, to think to bind a king that pretends to absoluteness ? the way being thus cleared, and we being sure of God’s approbation and men’s whose hearts are not utterly biassed, and conscience altogether corrupted ; and knowing assuredly, the upholding of such, is to uphold men to bear down Christ’s kingdom and to uphold Satan’s, and to deprive men of right government and good governors, to the ruining of religion, and undoing of human society. And seeing also the innumerable sins and snares that are in giving obedience to their acts upon the one hand ; and upon the other hand, seeing the endless miseries that will follow if we shall acknowledge their authority, and refuse obedience to their sinful commands : we then upon those, andthe following grounds, do reject that king, and those associate with him in the government (stated and declared enemies to Jesus Christ) from being our king and rulers, be- cause standing in the way of our right, free, and peaceable serving of God, propagating his kingdom and reformation, and overthrowing Satan’s kingdom according to our covenants, declare them to be henceforth no lawful rulers, as they have declared us to be no lawful subjects, upon a ground far less warrantable, as men unbiassed will see : and that after this, we neither own, nor shall yield any willing obedience to them, but shall rather suffer the utmost of their cruelties and injur- ies (until God shall plead our cause) being no more bound to them, they having altered and destroyed the Lord’s estab- lished religion, overturned the fundamental and established laws of the kingdom, taken away altogether Christ’s church- government, and changed the civil government of this land, which was by a king and free parliament, into tyranny, where none are associate to be partakers of the government but only those who will be found by justice to be guilty of crim- inals, and where all others are excluded, even those who by the laws of the land, and by birth, have a right to, and a share in that government, and that only because they are not of the same guiltiness and mischievous purposes with them- selves, and where also all free elections of commissioners for parliaments, and officers for government, are made void, they making those the qualifications for admission to those places, which by the word of God, and the laws of the land, was the cause of their exclusion before. So that none can say that we are now bound in allegiance unto them, unless they will say, we are bound in allegiance to devils whose vicegerents they are, having neither authority from God (because it is by their sinfulness forfeited) nor yet judging nor ruling for God. We then being made free by God and their own doings, (he giving the law, and they giving the transgression of that law, which is the cause) and being now loosed from all obli- gations both divine and civil to them, knowing also, that no society of men, having corruption in them (which is always • ready to beget disorder and to do injuries, unless restrained and punished by laws and government) can be without laws and government, and withal desiring to be governed in the best way that is least liable to inconveniences, and least apt to degenerate into tyranny : We do declare, that we shall set up over ourselves, and over what God shall give us power of, government and governors according to the word of God, and especially that word, Exodus xviii. 21. “ Moreover thou shalt provide out of all the people, able men, such as fear God, men of truth, hating covetousness, and place such over them ; to be rulers of thousands, and rulers of hundreds, rulers of fifties, and rulers of tens.” That we shall no more commit the government of ourselves, and the making of laws for us, to any one single person, or lineal successor, we not being by God, as the Jews were, bound to one single fa- mily ; and this kind of government by a single person being most liable to inconveniences, and aptest to degenerate into tyranny, as sad and long experience hath taught us. Moreover w r e declare, that those men whom we shall set over us, shall be engaged to govern us principally by that civil and judicial law (we think none will be so ignorant as to think, by the judicial law we mean that which is cere- monial or typical) given by God to his people of Israel, no man, we think, doubting, but it must be the best so far as it goes, being given by God ; and we having no body of law of our own, but some few imperfect acts of parliament, and sometimes following the canon, and sometimes the feudal, and sometimes the civil, which occasions great contentions among the people, especially those who are naturally liti- gious, to the exhausting and enhancing of the substance of the kingdom to some few men, and squeezing of its inhabi- tants, but especially that we shall be governed by that law in matters of life and death, and all other things also, so far as they reach, and are consistent with our Christian liberty established in all Christendom (only violated by our tyrants, and some others of late) excepting only that of divorce and polygamy, the one being not a law, but a permission granted upon the account of the hardness of their hearts, the other being a sinful custom, contrary to the first institution of marriage, crept into the church. We know that men of malignant and perverse spirits, who have not a higher God than a wicked king, which suits only with their lustful licen- tiousness, and it may be others with them, that seemed to be of better principles, will raise an ignorant clamour upon this, that it is a fifth monarchy, and we fifth-monarchy-men, and will labour to amuse the people with strange terms, and put odious names on good things to make them hateful as their way is ; but if this be their fifth monarchy, we both are, and ought to be such, and that according to God’s word. Sixthly. It being the work of the ministers of the gospel to preach, propagate, and defend the kingdom of God, and to preserve the doctrine, worship, discipline, government, liberties and privileges of the same from all corruptions and encroachments of rulers and all others ; and seeing that the ministers of the church of Scotland, at least the greater part of them by far, not only were defective in preaching and testifying against the acts of rulers, for overthrowing religion and reformation, abjuring our covenant with God, establish- ing a government in the church, which their king calls his own government (and so is not God’s) contrary to our covenant, against enacting of that blasphemous (so Calvin calls that supremacy of Henry VIII. upon which this prerogative is formed, and from which it is derived, and is no less, if not more injurious to Christ, and enslaving to his church) and sacrilegious prerogative, given to a king over the church of God, and against their other acts and encroachments upon his church, and hindered others also who were willing, and would have testified against them, and censured some that did it (for which, together with other faults in their trust and administration, we may say God hath left them to do worse things) but also have voted in that meeting (which they are pleased to call ‘ an assembly of ministers,’ but how un justly let men judge) an acceptation of that liberty founded 4 x APPENDIX. 714 upon, and given by virtue of that blasphemous, arrogated and usurped power, and has appeared before their courts to accept of that liberty, and to be enacted and authorized their ministers, and so have willingly (for this is an elicite act of the will, and not an act of force and constraint) translated the power of sending out, ordering and censuring (for as they accepted the liberty from them, so they are answerable and submit to their censures and restraints, at least all of them who were yet tried with it, and others of them appeared, and acknowledged before their courts, that they would not have done these things that they were charged with, if they had thought it would have offended them) ministers from the court of Christ, and subjection to the ministry to the courts of men, and subjection unto the magistrate (which had been impious and injurious to Christ, though they had been right- eous and lawful rulers), and by their changing of courts (ac- cording to common law) have changed their masters, and of the ministers of Christ are become the ministers of men, and bound to answer to them, as they will ; and as, by the ac- ceptance of this liberty in such a manner, they have trans- lated the power, so they had given up and quit utterly the government, and a succession of a presbyterian ministry, for as those were not granted them of their masters, so they re- ceived their ministry without them, and by this (as the eccle- siastic government is swallowed up in the civil) if the rest had followed them, the ministry should have been extinct with themselves, and the whole work of reformation had been buried in oblivion, and not so much as the remembrance thereof kept up. Those, together with the other of their commissions, in preaching the lawfulness of paying that tri- bute, declared to be imposed for the bearing down of the true worship of God (which they falsely termed seditious conventicles, rendezvouses of rebellion) and their advising those poor prisoners to subscribe that bond, and consequently could not but so advise others, if put to it (for the hazard men were in will not make a real change of the morality of the action) and besides, the rest may be put to it on the same hazard ; and if the one should advise (which consequently they must do) and the other should subscribe, this would altogether close that door, which the Lord hath made use of in all the churches of Europe, for casting off the yoke of the whore, and restoring the truth and purity of religion and reformation, and freedom of the churches, and should also have stopped all regress of men, when once brought under tyranny, to recover their liberty again. Those ministers then not being followers of Christ, who, before Pontius Pilate, gave a good confession, which was that he was a king (and no king, if he have no power to order his house and subjects) and they not following him nor his ministers, they not as- serting and maintaining this his kingly power, against all encroachments and usurpers of it ; and besides, we being commanded, if any brother walk disorderly, from such to withdraw. And although, in the capacity that we are now in, we neither have, nor assume to ourselves authority to give our definitive and authoritative sentence of deposition against those ministers, yet we declare (which is proper for us to do) that we neither can nor will hear preaching, nor receive sacraments from any of those ministers that have accepted, and voted for that liberty, nor from any who have encouraged and strengthened their hands by hearing and pleading for them, all those who have trafficked for an union with them, without their renouncing and repenting of those things, all that do not faithfully testify against them, and after do not deport themselves suitably to their testimonies, all who join not in public with their brethren, who are testifying against them. We declare, that we shall not own, &c., at least till they stand in judgment before those ministers, and be judged by them who have followed the Lord, kept themselves free of those defections, or at least have repented ; and as our hearts have cleaved to those ministers, while they were on the Lord’s side, and subjected to them, so we shall still cleave to those that abide following him, and shall be subject to them in the Lord. Seventhly. Then, we do declare and acknowledge, that a gospel ministry is a standing ordinance of God, appointed by Christ to continue in the church until the end of the world ; and that none of us shall take upon him the preaching of the word, or administering of the sacraments, unless called and ordained thereto by the ministers of the gospel. And, as we declare, that we are for a standing gospel ministry, rightly chosen and rightly ordained, so we declare that we shall go about this work in time to come with more fasting and prayer, and more careful inspection into the conversation and holiness of those men that shall be chosen and ordained, the want of which formerly has been a great sin, both in ministers and people, which hath not been the least cause of this defection. This will meet with the same measure as the former. The former was a fifth monarchy, so this will be a separation. There is both malice and ignorance in this calumny. Malice in striving to make us odious ; for there is nothing that will make us more odious to the world, than to tell them we think ourselves more holy than all, and will have no communion with others. But we abhor such thoughts, and whatever we know of our sincerity, yet we know nothing of our perfection, and so see nothing whereupon we may compare, much less exceed others, but the contrary ; and if any were to be shut out upon that account, we judge ourselves would be the first. There is ignorance in it, if not a deep deceit ; for separation, as the scriptures and divines take it in an evil sense, cannot be attributed to us ; for if there be a separation, it must be where the change is, and that is not in us ; we are not separ- ating from the communion of the church, and setting up new ordinances, and a new ministiy, but cleaving to the same ministers, and following the same ordinances, when others have slidden back to new ways, and have a new authority superadded, which is like the new piece in the old garment. J Eighthly. We bind and oblige ourselves to defend ourselves and one another in our worshipping of God, and in our natu- ral, civil, and divine rights and liberties, till we shall over- come, or send them down under debate to the posterity, that they may begin where we end ; and if we shall be pursued or troubled any farther in our worshipping, rights, and liberties, that we shall look on it, as a declaring war, and take all the advantages that one enemy doth of another, and seek to cause to perish, all that shall, in an hostile manner, assault us, and to maintain, relieve, and right ourselves of those that have wronged us, but not to trouble or injure any, but those that have injured us, those being most lawful for us, being many that are wronged upon such an account, and by such persons who have nothing now over us, but power and usurped authority, which we shall neither answer nor acknowledge, if we can do otherwise, hoping that God shall break off that part of the yoke, and free us of that power and tyranny, that we have cast off upon his account, and will give us judges as we had at the beginning, and counsellors as we had at the first. No. XII. Sanquhar Declaration, June 22, 16S0. It is not amongst the smallest of the Lord’s mercies to this poor land, that there have been always some who have given their testimony against every course of defection, (that many are guilty of) which is a token for good, that he doth not as yet intend to cast us off altogether, but that he will leave a remnant in whom he will be glorious, if they, through his grace, keep themselves clean still, and walk in his way and method, as it has been walked in and owned by him in our predecessors of truly worthy memory, in their carrying on j of our noble work of reformation in the several steps thereof, j from popery, prelacy, and likewise Erastian supremacy, so j much usurped by him, who (it is true so far as we know) is descended from the race of our kings, yet he hath so far de- borded from what he ought to have been, by his perjury and usurpation in church matters, and tyranny in matters civil, as is known by the whole land, that we have just reason to account it one of the Lord’s great controversies against us, that we have not disowned him and the men of his practices, (whether inferior magistrates or any other) as enemies to our Lord and his crown, and the true protestant and presby- terian interest in their lands, our Lord’s espoused bride and church. Therefore, although we be for government and governors, such as the word of God and our covenant allows, yet we for ourselves, and all that will adhere to us, as the representative of the true presbyterian kirk, and covenanted nation of Scotland, considering the great hazard of lying under such a sin any longer, do by thir presents disown Charles Stuart, that has been reigning (or rather tyrannizing, as we may say) on the throne of Britain these years bygone, as having any right, title to, or interest in the said crown of Scotland for government, as forfeited several years since, by his perjury and breach of covenant both to God and his kirk, and usurpation of his crown and royal prerogatives therein, APPENDIX. 715 and many other breaches in matters ecclesiastic, and by his tyranny and breach of the very leges regnandi in matters civil. For which reason, we declare, that several years since he should have been denuded of being king, ruler or magis- trate, or of having any power to act, or to be obeyed as such. As also, we being under the standard of our Lord Jesus Christ, Captain of salvation, to declare a war with such a tyrant and usurper, and all the men of his practices, as ene- mies to our Lord Jesus Christ, and his cause and covenants ; and against all such as have strengthened him, sided with, or any wise acknowledged him in his tyranny, civil or eccle- siastic, yea, against all such as shall strengthen, side with, or any wise acknowledge any other in the like usurpation and tyranny, far more against such as would betray or deliver up our free reformed mother-kirk unto the bondage of anti- christ the pope of Rome. And by this we homologate that testimony given at Rutherglen, the 29th of May, 1679, and all the faithful testimonies of these who have gone before, as also of these who have suffered of late. And we do disclaim that declaration published at Hamilton, June, 1679, chiefly because it takes in the king’s interest, which we are several years since loosed from, because of the foresaid reasons, and others, which may after this (if the Lord will) be published. As also, we disown, and by this resent the reception of the duke of York, that professed papist, as repugnant to our principles and vows to the most high God, and as that which is the great, though not alone, just reproach of our kirk and nation. We also by this protest against his succeeding to the crown ; and whatever has been done, or any are essaying to do in this land (given to the Lord) in prejudice to our work of reformation. And to conclude, we hope after this none will blame us for, or offend at our rewarding these that are against us, as they have done to us, as the Lord gives opportunity. This is not to exclude any that have declined, if they be willing to give satisfaction according to the degree of their offence. Given at Sanquhar, June 22d, 1680. No. XVIII. Declaration published at Lanerlc, January 12 th, 16S2. Although we ought to take in good part, whatever God in his infinite wisdom hath, for the punishment of our sins, carved out unto us, and Eye and acknowledge him alone in it; — and though we always ought to acknowledge go- vernment and governors as ordained by him, in so far as they rule and govern according to the rules set down by him in his word, and constitutive laws of the nation, and ought to cast the mantle of love on the lesser errors of governors, and give the best countenance to their administration that the nature of their actions will bear ; — yet when all these laws, both of God and the kingdom, conditional and constitutive of the government, are cassed and annulled, by pretended laws, and the highest of usurpation, and an inexplicable prerogative in matters ecclesiastic, and arbitrary govern- ment in matters civil, is arrogate ; — when a banner of impiety, profaneness, and atheism is avowedly displayed against the heavens ; a door open of all sorts and sizes, and the remedy thereof still denied by him who should be as a sun and shield to the people, when the parliaments, who ought to be the grand trustees of the kingdom, to whom it belongs in such a case to secure the civil and spiritual inter- ests, are so prelimited by law, as that no true son of the state or church hath liberty to sit and vote there, so that the parliaments, and all places of public trust, and offices of the kingdom from the highest to the lowest, are made up of none but those who are corrupted, overawed, overruled, and bribed: What shall the people do in such an extremity? Should they give their reason as men, their consciences as Christians, and resign their liberties, fortunes, religion, and their all to the inexorable obstinacy, incurable wilfulness, and malice of these, who in spite of God and man (and notwithstanding of their many oaths and vows both to God and his people) are resolved to make their own will the absolute and sove- reign rule of their actions, and their strained indulgences, and the measure of the subjects hope and happiness ? Shall the end of government be lost, through weakness, wickedness, and tyranny of governors ? Must the people by an implicit submission and deplorable stupidity, destroy themselves, and betray their posterity, and become objects of reproach to the present generation, and pity and contempt to the future? Have they not in such an extremity, good ground to make use of that natural and radical power they have, to shake off that yoke, which neither we nor our forefathers were able to bear ; which accordingly the Lord honoured us (in a general and unprelimited meeting of the estates and shires of Scot- land) to do ; a convention of unprelimited members , a con- vention of men who hud only the glory of God and the good of the commonwealth before their eyes , — the like whereof the present reigning tyrant could never since his home-coming pretend to? At which convention , he was most legally, and by general consent cast off, by the Declaration after- wards published at Sanquhar by especial warrant from the said convention. But that we may not seem to have done that, or yet to do the like, upon no grounds, or yet upon few and small grounds, we shall hint at some of the many thousands of the misdemeanours of the now cast off tyrant in his overturning of our church and state. And First , at his very entry, as if he had attained to Nero's desire, at one blow, in his first parliament, he cut off the neck of that noble constitution of church and state, which our noble and worthy ancestors had made ; and not thinking it enough treacherously and falsely to perjure himself, he made such constitutions and laws (if it be not an abuse of language to call them so) as that none but fools of his own feather, and such as would run with himself to the same ex- cess of riot, should have access to the very nearest place or office in the kingdom. And though that in itself is enough, yet not the thousand part of what he hath done. 2. Did he not take to himself a licentious privilege, the exalting of himself unto a sphere exceeding all measures divine and human, tyrannically obtruding his will for a law, both in matters civil and ecclesiastic, making us a laughing- stock to the neighbouring nations, who imagined that what he was doing (however tyrannous in itself) to he consonant to our law, blaming the badness of the law instead of the badness of the governors, whereas nothing could be less con- sonant to the tenor and end of our, and all other laws, divine and human. For we have reason to praise the Lord, who em- inently assisted our ancestors in framing of our laws, so that we may (upon good ground) say, that there is no nation in civilibus hath better, and in ecclesiasticis so good laws as we ; having (by God’s providence) attained unto a more excellent and strict reformation than any nation. The observing of which laws, was the very constitutive and absolute condition whereupon he was admitted to the Royal office, and without which he was not to have the exercise of his power, and to which he was most solemnly and deeply sworn oftener than once, with his hands lifted up to the most High God ; He himself declaring the sidgects tye no longer to remain or con- tinue , than the ends and constitutions of these covenants were pursued and preserved by him. All which are (contrary to his engagement foresaid) by his pretended (and as aforesaid constitute) parliaments cassed and annulled, and the law's no more made the rule, but his own will in his letters : So that we are made the reproach of the nations, who say we have only the law of letters, instead of the letter of the law. 8. Hath it not been his constant method to adjourn and dissolve parliaments at his pleasure, when they (though his own creatures) were so sensible of his misdemeanours, that they began to question, and when questioned by them, ye may easily conjecture what they were. 4. Hath he not seated himself as supreme head over all persons, in all causes civil and ecclesiastic ? and by virtue of that arrogantly arrogated power, fabricate a chimeric govern- ment, or rather pageantry in the church, with such ludibrious eminences, pompous pow r er and pride, through the vanity of men’s depraved imaginations, the grievous and mysterious abuse, from whence have issued all the calamities, all the languishing sorrows, and confounding shames and reproaches, which in this day of blackness and darkness, have invaded, involved, polluted and pestered the church and kingdom. And thus hath he approven himself to be the Defender of the Faith! under which the godly party, true sons of the church and nation, have been groaning these twenty years bygone, and in great numbers murthered and slain in the fields, led as lambs to the slaughter upon scaffolds, imprisoned and kept in irons, and with exquisite tortures tormented, exiled, banished, and sold as slaves amongst savages : all which they endured most patiently a long time, or ever they offered to appear in public in arms against him. And all this they have met with as a reward (just upon the Lord’s part, though unjust and ungrate as to his part) for their too great and inordinate love, wherewith they prevented him in the APPENDIX. 716 day of his distress ; being the first and only beginning of his unhappy restoration. 5. Time will fail us to narrate, what taxings, cessings, and every way impoverishing of the subjects, and grinding of the faces of the poor, dilapidating the pendicles, rights, and revenues of the crown, for no other end, but to employ them for keeping up a brothel, rather than a court, since there is no court in the world hath attained unto such a height of debauchery and depravedness, as that court by his example hath done. For Regis ad exemplum totus componitur orbis. 6. And lastly, as if it had not been enough to exercise such a tyrannical and arbitrary power himself, he, by a late par- liament such as the former, intends that his cruelty and tyranny should not die with himself, but that he shall in his time install such an one (if not worse) as himself, contrary to all law, reason and religion, and in that parliament to un- hinge very protestantism itself, by framing a test, such as no protestant (how corrupt soever) can take, and so ridiculous that it is made the laughingstock even of enemies them- selves. Is it then any wonder, considering such dealings and many thousands more, that true Scotsmen (though we have been, always and even to extremity sometimes loyal to our kings) should after twenty years tyranny break out at last, as we have done, and put in practice that power, which God and nature hath given us, and we have reserved to ourselves, as our engagements with our princes having been always conditional, as other kingdoms are implicitly, hut ours ex- plicitly ? Let none therefore object against the legality of what we have done, or are doing : for we offer as (how inconsiderable we are said to be) to prove ourselves to have done nothing against our ancient laws civil or ecclesiastic, against any lawyers or divines whatsoever, our ancient laws being judges ; and we having safety to pass and repass (if the public faith after so many breaches can be trusted) for that effect. So then let no foreign kingdoms or churches through misinfor- mation or false copies as they are many) of what we act or do, because we have no access to the press as they; we say let them not take up a wrong opinion of us or our proceed- ings : for we are only endeavouring to extricate ourselves from under a tyrannous yoke, and to reduce our church and state to what they were in the years 1G48 and 1649. We therefore, have conveened, in our name and authority , ratify and approve what hath been done by the Rutherglen and Sanquhar declarations. And do by these presents re- scind, annul , and make void, whatsoever hath been done by Charles Stuart or his accomplices in prejudice to our an- cient laws and liberties, in all the several pretended and prelimited parliaments and conventions, since the year 1660. And particularly, the late parliament holden at Edinburgh the 28th July 1681, by a commissioner professedly popish, and for villany exiled his" native land, with all the acts and laws there statute and enacted : as that abominable, ridicu- lous, unparalleled, and soul perjuring test and the rest. We therefore command and charge you , to pass to the Mercat cross of Lanerk, and in our name and authority, publish this our act and declaration , as ye will be answerable. Given at the 15th December, 1681. Let king Jesus reign , and all his enemies be scattered. No. XIX. Acts of Parliament. The first Confession of Faith of the Church of Scotland was professed, ratified and approved in Parliament, on the 17th August, 1560 — when Popery was abolished, and acts passed against idolatry and the mass. On the 19th April, 1567, Queen Mary, previous to her im- prisonment, passed an act, securing to her subjects of the Re- formed faith, immunity from civil injury. Thefull recognition, however, of the Reformed Church did not take place till the meeting of the first parliament in December, by the Regent Moray. The principal points of these acts are added. Act 1567, ch. 6. Anent the trew and Italy Kirk, and of thame that are declar 'd not to be of the samin. Item, Forsamekle as the Ministeris of the blissit Euangell of J esus Christ, quhome God of his mercy hes now rasit vp amangis vs, or heirefter sail rais, aggreing with thame that now liues, in doctrine and administratioun of the Sacramentis, and the pepill of this realme that professis Christ as he now is offerit in his Euangell, and do communicat with the holy sacramentis, (as in the reformit Kirkis of this Realme ar pub- licklie administrat), according to the Confession of the Faith, Our Souerane Lord, with auise of my Lord Regent and three Estatis of this present Parliament, hes declarit and declaris the foirsaid kirk to be the only trew and holy Kirk of Jesus Christ within this realme, and decernis and declareis that all and sundrie quha outher gainsayis the Word of the Euangell ressauit and appreuit as the heides of the Confessioun professit in Parliament of befoir, in the yeir of God 1560 yeirs, as al- swa specifiet in the Actis of this Parliament mair particularlie dois expres, and now ratifyit and appreuit in this present Parliament, or that refusis the participation of the holy sac- raments as they ar now ministrat, to be na membris of the said Kirk within this realme now presently professit, swa lang as they keipe thame selfis as deuydit fra the societie of Christis body. Act 1567, ch. 7. Anent the Admissioun of thame that sal be presentit to Benefices hauand cure of Ministrie. Item, It is statute and ordained by our Soveraine Lord, with advice of his dearest Regent, and three Estatis of this j present Parliament, that the examination and admission of ministers, within this Realme, be only in the power of the Kirk, now openlie, and publicly professed within the samin. The presentation of laic Patronages alwais reserved to the Just and auncient Patrones. And that the Patron present ! ane qualified per'soun, within sex Moneths, (after it may cum i to his knawledge, of the decease of him quha bruiked the j Benefice of before) to the Superintendent of thay partis, j quhar'the Benefice lyis, or uthers havand commission of the j Kirk to that effect ; utherwaies the Kirk to have power to dis- pone the samin to ane qualifyed person for that time. Providing that in caice the Patron present ane person qua- j lifted to his understanding, and failzeing of ane, ane uther ! within the said six Moneths, and the said Superintendent or I Commissioner of the Kirk refusis to receive and admit the | person presented be the Patron, as said is : It sail be lessum j [lawful] to the Patron to appeale to the Superintendent and | Ministers of that province quhar the Benefice lyis, and desire the person presented to be admitted, quhilk gif they refuse, j to appeal to the General Assemblie of the haill realme, be quhom the cause be and decyded, sail take end, as they de- cerne and declair. Act 1567, ch. 12. Anent the iurisdictioun of the Kirk. Item, Anent the Artickle proponit and geuin in by the Kirk to my Lord Regent and the thre Estatis of this present Par- liament, anent the iurisdictioun iustlie apperteining to the ! trew Kirk and immaculat spous of Jesus Christ, to be declarit and expressit as the artickle at mair length is consuit : The Kingis Grace, with auise of my Lord Regent and thre Estatis of this present Parliament, hes declarit and grantit iurisdic- j tioun to the said Kirk : quhilk consistis and standis, in preich- ing of the trew word of Jesus Christ, correction of maneris, | and administratioun of haly sacramentis. And declaris, that I thair is na vther face of Kirk nor vther face of Religioun, than is presentlie be the faour of God establischeit, within this realme. And that thair be na vther iurisdictioun eccle- siasticall acknawledgit within this realme, vther than that quhilk is and sail be within the same Kirk, or that quhilk fiowis thairfra concerning the premisses ; and forther, our j Souerane Lord, with auis of my Lord Regent and thre Es- tatis foirsaidis, hes geuein and geuis power and commission to Schir James Balfour of Pittindreich, Knycht, Priour of Pittinweem ; Mark, Commendatour of Newbottill ; Johne Priour of Coldinghame, Lord Preuie Seal ; Maister James Makgill of Rankillour Nether, Clerk of Register; William Maitland, younger of Lethington, Secretar to our Souerane Lord; Schir John Bellenden of Auchinoull, Knycht, Justice Clerk ; John Erskine of Dune ; Maister Johne Spottiswod, Superintendent of Lowthiane ; Johne Knox ; Maister Johne Craig ; and Maister Dauid Lindesay, Ministeris of the worde of God, To seirche furth mair speciallie, and to cousidder, quhat vther speciall pointis or clausis sould appertene to the iurisdictioun, priuilege, and authoritie of the said Kirk, and to declair thair mindis thairanentis to my Lord Regent and thre Estatis of this Realme at the nixt Parliament, Swa that APPENDIX. 717 they may tak ordour thairintill, and authories the samin he act of Parliament, as sail be fund aggreable to the worde of God. The following act was passed concerning the few lay patronages which existed at that time, and which king James VI. was using every means to increase. Act 1581, ch. 102. That minister is sail be presentit be the Kingis Majestic , and the lawit Patronis , to all benefices of cuir under Prelacyis. Item , It is statute and ordanit be our Souerane Lord, with aduise of his thre Estatis of this present Parliament, That all benefices of cuir under prelacyis, sail be presentit be our Souerane Lord, and the lawit personis, in the fauoure of abill and qualifeit ministers, apt and willing to enter in that functioun — and to discharge the dewtie thairof. And in cace any sail happin to be gevin and disponit wtherwise herefter, decernis and declaris the giftis and dispositiounis to be null and of none availl, force, nor effect. Next come to he noticed the acts passed in the parliament of 1584, commonly styled the Black Acts , by which all that had been formerly done by the Church in reference to pre- lacy, was declared treason. They were passed on the 22d of May, and proclaimed on the 25th, and submitted to by the nobility, barons and gentry, being opposed by the ministers alone. Act 1584, ch. 129. An act confirming the Kingis Majestie' s Royall poicer over all Statis and, Subjectis within this Realme Forsamekle as syndrie personis, being laitlie callit befoir the Kingis Majestie and his secreit Counsell, to answer upon certaine pointis to have bene inquirit of thame, concerning sum treasounable, seditious, and contumelious speclies, utterit by thame in Pulpit, Scolis, and vtherwayis, to the disdane and reprooche of his Hienes, his Progenitouris, and present Counsell, contemtuouslie declinit the jugement of his Hienes and his said Counsell in that behalf, to the evill exemple of uthers to do the like, gif tymous remeid be not providit : Thairfoir our Souerane Lord, and his thrie Estatis, assembled in this present Parliament, ratifeis and apprevis, and perpet- uallie confirmis the royall power and authoritie overall statis, alsweil Spirituall as Temporall, within this Realme, in the persoun of the Kingis Majestie, our Souerane Lord, his airis and successouris : And als statutis and ordanis, that his Hienes, his said airis and successouris, he thameselffis and thair counsellis, ar, and in tyme to cum sail be, juges com- petent to all personis his Hienes subjectis, of quhatsumever estate, degrie, functioun, or conditioun that ever they be of, Spirituall or Temporall, in all matteris qubairin they, or ony of thame, sail be apprehendit, summound, or chargeit to an- swer to sik thingis as sail be inquirit of thame, be our Sove- rane Lord and his Counsell. And that nane of thame, quhilkis sail happin to be apprehendit, callit, or summound to the effect foirsaid, presume to tak upoun hand to decline the jugement of his Hienes, his airis or successouris, or thair Counsell, in the premisses, under the pane of treasoun. Act 1584, ch. 131. Act discharging all jurisdictions and judgments, not approvit be Parliament , and all Assem- bled and Conventionis, without our Souerane Lordis speciall licence and commandment. Our Souerane Lord and his thrie Estatis, assemblit in this present Parliament, dischargeis all jugementis and jurisdic- tion^, Spirituall or Temporall, accustomat to be usit and execute, upoun ony of his Hienes subjectis, quhilkis are not approvit be his Hienes, and his saids thrie Estatis, convenit in Parliament ; and decernis the same to ceis in tyme cum- ming, quhil the ordour thereof be first sene and considerit in Parliament, and be allowit and ratifeit be thame. Certifeing thame that sail proceid in using and exerceing of the saids jugementis and jurisdictionis, or in obeying of the same, not being allowit and ratifieit, as said is, They sail be repute, balden, callit, presewit, and punissit as usurparis, and con- temnaris of his Hienes auctoritie, in example of utheris. And als it is statute and ordainit, be our said Souerane Lord, and his thrie Estatis, that none of his Hienes sub- jectis, of quhatsumever qualitie, estate, or functioun they be of, Spirituall or Temporall, presume or tak upoun hand, to convocat, convene, or assemble thamselffis togidder, for holding of councellis, conventionis, or assembleis, to treat, consult, and determinat in ony matter of Estate, Civill or Ecclesiasticall (except in the ordinare jugementis), without his Majesties speciall commandement, expres licence, had and ohtenit to that effect, under the panis ordinit in the lawis and actis of Parliament, agains sic as unlawfullie con- vocat the Kingis lieges. Act 1584, ch. 132. The causes and Maner of Deprivation of Ministers. Our Souerane Lord, and his thrie Estatis, assemblit in this present Parliament, willing that the word of God sail be preachit, and Sacramentis administrat in puritie and synceri- tie, and that the rentis, quhairon the Ministeris aucht to be sustenit, sail not be possest be unworthie personis neglecting to do thair dewties, for whilkis they accept thair benefices, being utherwayis polluted with the fraill and enorme crymis and vices after specefeit. It is, thairfoir, statute and ordainit be his Hienes, with auice of the saides thrie Estatis, that all Personis, Ministeris, or Reiddaris, or utheris providit to bene- fices, sen his Hienes Coronatioun (not having vote in his Hienes Parliament), suspectit culpable of heresie, papistrie, fals and erroneous doctrine, common blasphemie, fornication, commoun drunkennes, non-residence, pluralitie of benefices having cure, quhairunto they are providit sen the said Coro- natioun, Symonie, and dilapidatioun of the rentis of benefices, contrare the lait Act of Parliament, being lawfullie and or- dourlie callit, tryit, and adjudgit culpable, in the vices and causes abouewritten, or onie of thame, be the ordinare Bishop of the diocie, or utheris the Kingis Majesties Commissionaris to be constitute in Ecclesiasticall causes, sail be deprivit alsweil fra thair functioun in the Ministerie, as fra thair benefices, quhilkis sail be thairby declarit to be vacand ; to be presentit and conferrit of new, as gif the personis possessouris thairof were naturallie dead : And that it sail be esteemit and jugeit not-residence, quhair the persoun being in the function of the ministerie, providit to ane benefice, sen the Kingis Ma- jesties Coronatioun, makis not residence at his mans, gif he ony hes ; and failzeing thereof, at sum uther dwelling-place within the parochin ; but remainis absent thairfra, and from his Kirk, and using of his office, be the space of four Sondayis in the haill zeir, without lawfull caus and impediment, allowit be his ordinare. And quhair ony persoun is admittit to ma benefices, havand cure, sen our Soverane Lordis Coronatioun, the acceptioun of the last sail he sufficient cause of depriva- tioun from the remanent, swa that he be providit to twa or ma benefices havand cure, sen the tyme of the said Corona- tioun. And nevertheles, this present Act sail not extend to ony persoun providit to his benefice befoir the said Coro- natioun, nather sail the braking of the said office, quhairunto he was providit of befoir, induce pluralitie of benefices in this cace ; bot he sail allanerlie tyne his richt of the benefice quhairunto he was providit sen the said Coronatioun allaner- lie : And unioun of kirkis to ane benefice not to be jugeit pluralitie, quhill farder ordour be establissit and providit in that behalf : Likeas alswa, the personis being in the functioun of the ministrie, that sail happin to be lawfullie and ordour- lie convict befoir our Soverane Lordis Justice-Generall, or utheris thair Jugeis competent of criminal causis, sick as treasoun, slachter, mutilatioun, adulterie, incest, thift, [com- moun oppressioun, usurie aganes the lawis of this Realme,] perjurie, or falset : They being lykewayis lawfullie and or- dourlie deprivit fra thair functioun in the ministerie, be thair ordinair, or the Kingis Commissionaris in Ecclesiasticall causes. The benefices possest be the saidis personis to vaik, be reasoun of the said convictioun and deprivatioun. And this to have effect and execution onlie for crimis, vicis, faultis, and offenceis, that sail happin to be committit efter the dait heirof. The importance of the following act which is justly desig- nated “ The Great Charter of the Church,” calls for par- ticular attention. Act 1592, ch. 116. Act for abolishing of the Actis contrair the trew Religion. [ Ratification of the libertie of the trew Kirk: Of General and Synodall Assemblies : Of Presby- teries of Discipline. All laics of Idolatrie ar abrogate : Of Presentation to Benefices.'] Our Soverane Lord and Estaittis of this present Parliament, following the lovable and gude example of thair predecessours. APPENDIX. 718 Hes ratifiet and apprevit, and be the tenour of this present Act ratifies and apprevis, all liberties, privileges, immunities, and freedomes, quatsumever, gevin and grantit be his Hienes, his Regentis in his name, or ony of his predecessouris, to the trew and haly Kirk, presentlie estahlishit within this realme : and declarit in the first Act of his Hienes Parliament, the twentie day of October, the zier of God ane thousand, five hundreth, three-scoir ninetene zieres ; and all and whatsum- evir Actis of Parliament, and statutes maid of befoir, be his Hienes and his Regentis, anent the libertie and freedome of the said Kirk : and specialie the first Act of the Parliament, halden at Edinburgh , the twentie-foure day of October, the zier of God ane thousand, five hundreth, and foir-scoir ane zieres, with the haill particulare Actis thairin mentionat, quhilk sail be als sufficient as gif the samyn wer herin ex- prest. And all uther Actis of Parliament maid sensyne, in favouris of the trew Kirk ; and siklyke, ratifies and apprevis the Generali Assemblies appointed be the said Kirk : And declaris, that it sail be lauchfull to the Kirk and Ministrie everilk zeir at the leist, and ofter pro re nata, as occasion and necessitie sail require, to hald and keip Generali Assem- blies : Providing that the Kingis Majestie or his Commis- sioner with thame. to be appoyntit be his Hienes, be pre- sent at ilk Generali Assemblie, befoir the dissolving thairof nominat and appoint tyme and place quhen and quhair the nixt Generali Assemblie sail be haldin : and in caise nather his Majestie nor his said Commissioner beis present for the tyme in that toun, quhair the Generali Assemblie beis halden, Then, and in that caise, it sail be lessum to the said Generali Assemblie, be themselffis, to nominat and appoynt tyme and lace quhair the nixt Generali Assemblie of the Kirk sail be eipit and haldin, as they haif bene in use to do thir tymes bypast. And als ratifies and apprevis the Sinodall and Pro- vinciall Assemblies, to be halden be the said Kirk and Min- istrie, twyis ilk zier, as they haif bene, and are presentlie in use to do, within every Province of this realme ; And ratifeis and apprevis the Presbiteries. and particulare Sessionis ap- poyntit be the said Kirk, with the haill jurisdictioun and discipline of the same Kirk, aggreit upon be his Majestie, in conference, had be his Hienes with certane of the Ministrie convenit to that effect : of the quhilkis Articles the tenour followis. Materis to be entreated in Provincial Assem- blies : Thir Assemblies ar constitute for wechtie materis, necessar to be entreatit be mutuall consent, and assistance of brethrene, within the Province as neid reqvyris. This As- semblie hes power to handle, ordour, and redresse, all things omittit or done amisse in the particulare Assemblies. It hes power to depose the office-beareris of that province, for gude and just causes, deserving deprivatioun : And generallie, thir Assemblies hes the haill power of the particulare Elder- schippis, quhairof they are collectit. Matfris to he en- treated in the Presbyteries. The powder of the Presbyteries is to give diligent lauboris in the boundis committed to their chairge : That the Kirkis he kepit in gude ordour : To en- quire diligentlie of naughtie and ungodlie personis : And to travell to bring them in the way agane be admonitioun, or threatning of Goddis jugementis, or be correctioun. It ap- pertenis to the Elderschip, to tak heid that the Word of God be puirlie preachit within thair boundis, the Sacramentis richt- lie ministrat, the Discipline enterteynit, And Ecclesiastical 1 guidis uncorruptlie distributit. It belangis to this kynd of Assemblies, to caus the ordinances maid be the Assembleis, Provinciallis, Nationallis, and Generallis, to be kepit and put in execution, to mak constitutionis, quhilkis concernis to tr^frov in the Kirk, for decent ordour, in the particulare kirk quhair they go verne ; provyding that thay alter na rew- lis maid be the Provinciall or Generali Assemblies; And that they make the Provinciall Assemblies foirsaidis, privie of the rewlis that they sail mak, and to abolishe constitu- tionis tending to the hurte of the same. It has power to excommunicat the obstinat, formale proces being led, and dew intervall of tymes observit. Anent particulare kirkis, Gif they be lauchfully rewlit be sufficient ministeris and sessioun, Thay haif power and jurisdictioun in their awin congregration, in materis Ecclesiasticall, And decernis and deciaris the said Assembleis, Presbiteries, and Sessiounes, Jurisdictioun and Discipline thairof foirsaid, to be in all tymes cuming maist just, gude, and godlie in theselff, Not- withstanding of quliatsumevir Statutis, Actis, Cannon, Civile, or municipall Lawes, maid in the contrair: To the quhilkis and every ane of thame, thir presentis sail mak expres dero- gatioun. And becaus thair ar divers Actis of Parliament, maid in favour of the Papistical Kirk, tending to the pre- judice of the libertie of the trew Kirk of God, presentlie professit within this realme, jurisdictioun, and discipline thairof, Quhilk stands zit in the buikis of the Actis of Par- liament, not abrogat nor annullit : Thairfoir his Hienes and Estaittis foirsaidis hes abrogat, cassit, and annullit, and be the tennor heirof, abrogatis, cassis, and annullis, all Actis of Parliament maid be ony of his Hienes predecessoris, for man- tenance of superstitioun and idolatrie, with all and quhatsum- evir Acts, Lawes, and Statutes, maid at ony tyme, befoir the day and dait heirof, aganis the libertie of the trew Kirk, jurisdictioun, and discipline thairof, as the samyn is usit and exerceisit within this realme. And in speciall, that pairt of the sevint Act of Parliament halden at Streviling , the fourt day of November , ane thousand four hundredth, fourty-three zeiris, commanding obedience to be gevin to Eugin, the Pape for the tyme : the 109 Act made be King James the tlirid , in his Parliament halden at Edinburgh , the twenty-fourth day of Februar , the zeir of God ane thousand, four hun- dreth, four scor thrie zeirs. And all utheris actis quhairby ! the Papis authoritie is estahlishit. The fourty-seven Act of i King James the third, in his Parliament halden at Edinburgh , the twenty day of November, ane thousand, four hundredth, three score nine zeirs, anent the Satterday and uther vigilis to be hally dayes from Evin sang to Evin sang. Item, that pairt of the thirty-one Act maid be the Queene Regent , in the Parliament halden at Edinburgh , the first day of Februar ane thousand, five hundreth, fifty-ane zeirs, Geving speciall licence for haldin of Pashe and Zule. Item, the Kingis Majesty and Estatis foresaidis declaris, that the secund Act of the Parliament halden at Edinburgh , the xxij day of Maij, the zeir of God ane thousand, five hundredth, four scoir, four zeires, sail naways be prejudiciall, nor derogat any thing to the privilege that God hes givin to the spiritual^ office-beareris in the Kirk, concerning heads of religioun, materis of heresie, excommunicatioun, collation or deprivation of ministeris, or ony sik essential censours, speciall groundit, and havand war- rand of the word of God. Item, Our said Soverane Lord, and Estaittis of Parliament forsadis, abrogatis, cassis, and an- nulis the XX Act of the same Parliament, halden at Edin- burgh, the said zeir, ane thousand, five hnndredth, fourscoir, | four zeires, granting commission to bischoppis and utheris jugis, constitute in ecclesiasticall causes, to ressaue his Hienes presentatioun to benefices, to gif collatioun thairupon, and to put ordour in all causes ecclesiasticall : quhilk his Majesty and Estaitis foresaidis declaris to be expyrit in the self, and to he null in tyme cuming, and of nane availl, force, nor effect. And thairfoir ordanis all presentationis to benefices, to be direct to the particular presbyteries, in all tyme cuming : with full power to thame to giff collationis thereupon ; and to put ordour to all materis and causes ecclesiasticall, within thair boundis, according to the discipline of the Kirk : Pro- viding the foirsaidis presbyteries be bund and astrictit to ressaue and admitt quhatsumeuir qualifiet minister presentit be his Majestie, or uther laic patrounes. Act 1592, eh. 117. Unqualified persons being deprived, the Benefice vaikes, and the Patron not presentand , the right of Presentation pertaines to the Presbyterie, but prejudice of the tackes, set be the person deprived. Our Souerane Lord, Considering the great abuses quhilkis ar laitlie croppen in the Kirk, throw the misbehaviour of sik personis as ar providit to ecclesiasticall functionis : sic as per- sonages and vicarages within any parrochin, and thairefter neglecting thair charge, ather levis thair cure, or ellis commit- tis sik crymes, faultis, or enormities that they are fund worthy of the sentence of deprivatioun, ather befoir thair awin presbi- terie, or ellis befoir the Sinodall and Generali Assemblies. Quhilk sentence is the less regardit be thame, Because, albeit they be deprivit of their functioun and cure within the Kirk : zit they thinke they may bruike lawfully the profites and rentes of their saids benefices, enduring their lyfetymes. Not- withstanding the said sentence of deprivatioun : Thairfore, our Soverane Lord, with avice of the Estaitis of this present Parliament, declairis, that all and qhatsumever sentence of deprivatioun, ather pronouncit already, or that happenis to be pronouncit hereafter, be ony Presbyterie, Synodal! or General Assemblie, agains ony persone or vicare within their jurisdic- tioun, provydit sen his Hienes coronation : (All personis pro- vydit to personages and vicarages, quha hes voit in Parlia- ment, Secreit Council, and Sessioun, or providit thairto of APPENDIX. 719 auld, befoir the Kingis coronatioun, And Maister George Young , Archidene of Sand Androis , being specially ex- ceptit,) is and sal be repute in all jugementis, ane just cause to seclude the persone befoir providit, and than deprivitfrom all profites, commodities, rentis, and deweties of the said per- sonage and vicarage, or benefice of cure : A nd that ather be way of actioun, exception, or reply. And that the said sen- tence of deprivatioun sail be ane sufficient cause to mak the said benefice to vaike thereby. And the said sentence being extractit and presentit to the Patroun, the said Patroun sal be bund to present ane qualifiit persone of new to the Kirk, within the space of sex monethis thairafter. And gif he fail- zie to do the same, the said Patroun sal tyne the richt of pre- sentation for that tyme allanerlie : And the richt of presen- tatioun to be devolvit in the handes of the Presbytery within the quhilk benefice lyes ; to the effect that they may dispone the same, and gif collatioun thereof, to sik ane qualifiit per- sone as they sail think expedient. Providing allwayes, in caise the Presbytery refuises to admit ane qualifiit minister, presentit to thame be the Patroun, It sail be lauchful to the Patroun to retene the haill fruitis of the same benefice in his awin handes. And forder, his Hienes and Estatis forsaides declaris, that the deprivatioun already pronouncit, or to be pronouncit, be ony Presbytery, Synodal! or General Assem- blies, agains ony of the personis or vicaris afoirsaid, sail na- wayes hurte or be prejudiciall to ony tackes, lawchfullie set be that persone deprivit, befoir his deprivatioun, to quhat- sumevir personis. The Scottish Parliament, in March 1649, having met and being free from “ the pressure from without,” and guided by a religious spirit, passed the following liberal and enlightened act. Act of Parliament abolishing the Patronage of Kirks , at Edinburgh , March 9, 1649. The Estates of Parliament being sensible of the great obli- gation that lies upon them by the National Covenant, and by the Solemn League and Covenant, and by many deliverances and mercies from God, and by the late Solemn Engagement unto Duties, to preserve the doctrine, and maintain and vindi- cate the liberties of the Kirk of Scotland, and to advance the work of reformation therein to the utmost of their power ; and, considering that patronages and presentations of kirks is an evil and bondage, under which the Lord’s people and mi- nisters of this land have long groaned ; and that it hath no warrant in God’s Word, but is founded only on the canon law, and is a custom popish, and brought into the Kirk in time of ignorance and superstition ; and that the same is contrary to the Second Book of Discipline, in which, upon solid and good ground, it is reckoned amongst abuses that are desired to be reformed, and unto several acts of General Assemblies ; and that it is prejudicial to the liberty of the people and planting of kirks, and unto the free calling and entry of ministers unto their charge ; and the said estates, being willing and desirous to promote and advance the Reformation foresaid, that every thing in the house of God may be ordered according to his word and commandment, do therefore, from the sense of the former obligations, and upon the former grounds and reasons, discharge for ever hereafter all patronages and presentations of kirks, whether belonging to the King, or to any laick pa- tron, Presbyteries, or others within this kingdom, as being unlawful and unwarrantable by God’s Word, and contrary to the doctrine and liberties of the Kirk ; and do repeal, rescind, make void, and annul all gifts and rights granted thereanent, and all former acts made in Parliament, or in any inferior judicatory, in favours of any patron or patrons whatsoever, so far as the same doth or may relate unto the presentation of kirks ; and do statute and ordain, that no person or persons whatsomever shall, at any time hereafter, take upon them, under pretext of any title, infeftment, act of Parliament, pos- session or warrant whatsoever, which are hereby repealed, to give, subscribe, or seal any presentation to any kirk within this kingdom ; and discharges the passing of any infeftment hereafter, bearing a right to patronages, to be granted in fa- vours of those for whom the infeftments are presented ; and that no person or persons shall, either in the behalf of them- selves or others, procure, receive, or make use of any presenta- tion to any kirk within this kingdom. And it is further de- clared and ordained, that if any presentation shall hereafter be given, procured, or received, that the same is null, and of none effect ; and that it is lawful for Presbyteries to reject the same, and to refuse to admit any to trials thereupon ; and, notwith- standing thereof, to proceed to the planting of the kirk, upon the suit and calling , or with the consent of the congregation , on whom none is to be obtruded against their will. And it is decerned, statuted, and ordained, that whosoever hereafter shall, upon the suit and calling of the congregation, after due examination of their literature and conversation, be admitted by the Presbytery unto the exercise and function of the ministry, in any parish within this kingdom, that the said person or persons, without a presentation, by virtue of their admission, hath sufficient right and title to possess and enjoy the manse and glebe, and the whole rents, profits, and sti- pends, which the ministers of that parish had formerly pos- sesst and enjoyed, or that hereafter shall be modified by the commission for plantation of kirks And because it is needful, that the just and proper interest of congregations and Presbyteries, in providing of kirks and ministers be clearly determined by the General Assembly, and what is to be accounted the congregation having that interest ; therefore, it is hereby seriously recommended unto the next General Assembly, clearly to determine the same, and to condescend upon a certain standing way for being a settled rule therein for all times coming. The acts passed during the reigns of Charles II. and James VII., tyrannical in their spirit and oppressive in their nature, perished at the period of the Revolution, in 1688. In June 1690, when Parliament met, that important act was passed “ ratifying the Confession of Faith, and settling Presbyterian Church Government,” known by the name of the Revo- lution Settlement. Act 1690, ch. 5. Act Ratifying the Confession of Faith , and Settling Presbyterian Church Government. Our Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and Queen’s Ma- jesties, and three Estates of Parliament, conceiving it to be their bound duty, after the great deliverance that God hath lately wrought for this Church and Kingdom, — in the first place, to settle and secure therein the true Protestant religion, according to the truth of God’s W ord, as it hath of a long time been professed within this land : As also the government of Christ’s Church within this nation, agreeable to the Word of God, and most conducive to the advancement of true piety and godliness, and the establishing of peace and tranquillity ■within this realme : And that, by an article of the Claim of Right, it is declared that Prelacy, and the superiority of any office in the Church above Presbyteries is, and hath been, a great and unsupportable grievance and trouble to this nation, and contrary to the inclinations of the generality of the people ever since the Reformation, — they having reformed from Popery by Presbyters, — and therefore ought to be abolished : Likeas, by an Act of the last Session of this Parliament Prelacy is abolished : Therefore their Majesties, with advice | and consent of the said Three Estates, do hereby revive, rati- fie and perpetually confirm, all Laws, Statutes, and Acts of Parliament made against Popery and Papists, and for the maintenance and preservation of the true reformed Protestant religion, and for the true Church of Christ within this king- dom, in so far as they confirm the same, or are made in fa- vours thereof. Likeas, they, by these presents, ratifie and establish the Confession of Faith, now read in their presence ; and voted and approved- by them, as the publick and avowed I Confession of this Church, containing the sum and substance | of the doctrine of the Reformed Churches (which Confession, i of Faith is subjoined to this present Act). As also they do establish, ratifie, and confirm the Presbyterian Church govern- ment and discipline ; that is to say, the government of the Church by Kirk-Sessions, Presbyteries, Provincial Synods, and General Assemblies, ratified and established by the 114th Act, Ja. 6, Pari. 12, anno 1592, intituled, Ratification of the Liberty of the true Kirk, fyc. , and thereafter received by the general consent of this nation, to be the only govern- ment of Christ’s Church within this kingdom ; reviving, re- newing, and confirming the foresaid Act of Parliament, in the whole heads thereof, except that part of it relating to Pa- tronages, which is hereafter to be taken into consideration : And rescinding, annulling, and making void the Acts of Parliament following, viz. Act anent Restitution of Bis- hops, Ja. 6, Pari. 18, cap. 2; Act Ratifying, the Acts of 720 APPENDIX. ! Assembly 1610, Ja. 6, Pari. 21, cap. 1; Act auent the Elec- tion of Archbishops and Bishops, Ja. 6, Pari. 22, cap. 1 ; Act intituled, Ratification of the Five Articles of the Gen- ! eral Assembly at Perth, Ja. 6, Pari. 23, cap. 1 ; Act intituled. For the Restitution and Re-establishment of the ancient Government of the Church by Archbishops and Bishops, ch. ' 2, Pari. 1, Sess. 2, Act 1 ; anent the Constitution of a Na- tional Synod, ch. 2, Pari. 1, Sess. 3, Act 5 ; Act against such as refuse to depone against delinquents, ch. 2, Pari. 2, Sess. 2, Act 2 ; Act intituled, Act acknowledging and asserting ! the right of Succession to the Imperial Crown of Scotland, | ch. 2, Pari. 3, Act 2 ; Act intituled, Act anent Religion and j the Test, ch. 2, Pari. 3, Act 6 ; with all other acts, laws, statutes, ordinances, and proclamations, and that in so far al- lenarly as the said Acts, and others generally and particularly above-mentioned, or contrary or prejudicial to, inconsistent with, or derogatory from the Protestant religion and Presby- terian government now established ; and allowing and declar- ing that the church government be established in the hands of, and exercised by, these Presbyterian ministers who were outed since the 1st of January 1661, for non-conformity to Prelacy, or not complying with the courses of the times ; and are now restored by the late Act of Parliament, and such ministers and elders only as they have admitted or received, or shall hereafter admit or receive : And also, that all the said Presbyterian ministers have, and shall have, right to the maintenance, rights, and other privileges, by law provided to the ministers of Christ’s Church within this kingdom, as they are, or shall be, legally admitted to particular churches. Likeas, in pursuance of the premises, their Majesties do here- by appoint the first meeting of the General Assembly of this Church, as above established, to be at Edinburgh, the third Thursday of October next to come, in this instant year, 1690. And because many conform ministers either have deserted, or were removed from preaching in their churches, preceding the thirteenth day of April 1689, and others were deprived for not giving obedience to the Act of the Estates made in the said thirteenth of April 1689, intituled, Proclamation against the owning of the late King James, and appointing publick prayers for King William and Queen Mary : There- fore their Majesties, with advice and consent foresaid, do hereby declare all the churches, either deserted, or from which the conform ministers were removed or deprived, as said is, to be vacant ; and that the Presbyterian ministers 1 exercising their ministry within any of these paroches (or where the last incumbent is dead), by the desire or consent of the paroch, shall continue their possession, and have fight to the benefices and stipends, according to their entry in the year 1689, and in time coming, ay, and while the Church, as ! now established, take further course therewith. And to the effect the disorders that have happened in this Church may be redressed, their Majesties, with advice and consent fore- said, do hereby allow the general meeting, and representa- J tives of the foresaid Presbyterian ministers and elders, in whose hands the exercise of the Church government is estab- lished, either by themselves, or by such ministers and elders as shall be appointed and authorized visitors by them, accord- ing to the custom and practice of Presbyterian government 1 throughout the whole kingdom, and several parts thereof, to try and purge out all insufficient, negligent, scandalous, and erroneous ministers, by due course of ecclesiastical process and censures ; and, likewise, for redressing all other Church disorders. And further, it is hereby provided, that whatso- j ever minister, being convened before the said general meeting and representatives of the Presbyterian ministers and elders, or the visitors to be appointed by them, shall either prove contumacious in not appearing, or be found guilty, and shall ; be therefore censured, whether by suspension or deposition, they shall ipso facto be suspended from or deprived of their stipends and benefices. Act 1690, ch. 23. Act concerning Patronages. Our Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and Queen’s Ma- jesties, considering, that the power of presenting ministers to | vacant churches, of late exercised by patrons, hath been greatly abused, and is inconvenient to be continued in this realm, do therefore, with the advice and consent of the Estates of Parliament, hereby discharge, cass, annul, and make void j the foresaid power, heretofore exercised by any patron, of presenting ministers to any kirk now vacant, or that shall hereafter happen to vaik within this kingdom, with all exer- cise of the said power : And also all rights, gifts, and infeft- 1 ments, acts, statutes, and customs, in so far as they may be ex- tended, or understood, to establish the said right of presenta- tion ; but prejudice always, of such ministers as are duly entered by the foresaid presentations (while in use), their right to the manse, glebe, benefice, stipend, and other profits of their respective churches, as accords : And but prejudice to the patrons of their right to employ the vacant stipends on pious uses, within the respective paroches, except where the patron is popish, in which case he is to employ the same on pious uses, by the advice and appointment of the Presbytery' ; and in case the patron shall fail in applying the vacant sti- pend for the uses foresaid, that he shall lose his right of ad- ministration of the vacant stipend for that and the next vacancy, and the same shall be disposed on by the Presby- tery to the uses foresaid ; excepting always the vacant stipends within the bounds of the Synod of Argyle : And to the effect, the calling and entering ministers, in all time coming, may be orderly and regularly performed, their Majesties, with j consent of the Estates of Parliament, do statute and declare , That, in case of the vacancy of any particular church, and for supplying the same with a minister, the heritors of the said parish (being Protestants) and the elders are to name ! and propose the person to the whole congregation, to be either j approven or disapproven by them ; and if they disapprove, that the disapproves give in their reasons, to the effect the affair may be cognosced upon by the Presbytery of the bounds, at whose judgment, and by whose determination, the calling and entry of a particular minister is to be ordered and con- eluded. And it is hereby enacted, that if application be not ! made by the eldership, and heritors of the paroch, to the 1 Presbytery, for the call and choice of a minister, within the space of six months after the vacancy, that then the Presby- tery may proceed to provide the said parish, and plant a minister in the church, tanquamjure devoluto. It is always hereby declared, that this act shall be but prejudice of the calling of ministers to royal burghs by the Magistrates, Town-Council, and Kirk-Session of the burgh, where there is no landward parish, as they have been in use before the year 1660. And where there is a considerable part of the paroch in landward, that the call shall be by Magistrates, Town- Council, Kirk-Session, and the heritors of the landward paroch. And in lieu and recompense of the said right of ! presentation, hereby taken away, their majesties, with advice j and consent aforesaid, statute and ordain the heritors and liferenters of each paroch, and the Town-Councils for the burgh, to pay the said patrons, betwixt and Martinmas next, the sum of six hundred merks, &c. The object of the following Act, as its title bears, was to secure “ quiet and peace” in the Church ; but how far this was attained, will be seen by referring to the History of the Church of Scotland at this period. Act 1 693. Act for Settling the Quiet and Peace of the Church. Our Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and Queen’s Ma- jesties, with advice and consent of the Estates of Parliament, ratifie, approve, and perpetually confirm the fifth act of the second session of this current parliament, entitled, Act ratify- ing the Confession of Faith, and settling Presbyterian Church Government, in the whole Heads, Articles, and Clauses thereof ; and do further statute and ordain, that no person be admitted, or continued for hereafter, to be a minister or i preacher within this Church, unless that he having first taken and subscribed the oath of allegiance, and subscribed the as- surance, in manner appointed by another act of this present [ session of parliament, made thereanent : Do also subscribe j the Confession of Faith, ratified in the foresaid fifth act of the second session of this parliament, declaring the same to ! be the confession of his faith, and that he owns the doctrine j therein contained to be the true doctrine which he will con- stantly adhere to : As, likewise, that he owns and acknow- | ledges Presbyterian Church government, as settled by the l foresaid fifth act of the second session of this parliament, to be the only government of this Church, and that he will sub- mit thereto, and concur therewith, and never endeavour, directly or indirectly, the prejudice or subversion thereof, j And their Majesties, with advice and consent foresaid, statute and ordain, that uniformity of worship, and of the administra- tion of all public ordinances within this Church, be observed by all the saids ministers and preachers, as the same are at present performed and allowed therein, or shall be hereafter | APPENDIX. 72 L declared by the authority of the same ; and that no minister or preacher he admitted or continued for hereafter, unless that he subscribe to observe, and do actually observe, the foresaid uniformity : And for the more effectual settling the quiet and peace of this Church, the estates of parliament do hereby make a humble address to their Majesties, that they would be pleased to call a General Assembly, for the ordering the affairs of the Church, and to the end that all the present ministers possessing churches, not yet admitted to the exer- cise of the foresaid Church government, conform to the said Act, and who shall qualify themselves in manner foresaid, and shall apply to the said Assembly, or the other Church judicatures competent, in an orderly way, each man for him- self, be received to partake with them in the government thereof : Certifying such as shall not qualify themselves, and apply to the said Assembly, or other judicatures, within the space of thirty days after meeting of the said first Assem- bly, in manner foresaid, that they may be deposed by the sentence of the said Assembly and other judicatures tarn ab officio quam a beneficio (as from the office, so also from the benefice) ; and withal declaring, that if any of the said minis- ters who have not hitherto been received into the government of the Church, shall offer to qualify themselves, and to apply in manner foresaid, they shall have their Majesties’ full protec- tion, aye and until they shall be admitted and received in manner foresaid ; providing always that this Act, and the benefit thereof, shall no ways be extended to such of the said ministers as are scandalous, erroneous, negligent, or insuffi- cient, and against whom the same shall be verified, within the space of thirty days after the said application : but these and all others in like manner guilty, are hereby declared to be liable and subject to the power and censure of the Church, as accords : And to the effect that the representation of this Church, in its General Assemblies, may be the more equal in all time coming, recommends it to the first Assembly that shall be called, to appoint ministers to be sent as Commis- sioners from every Presbytery, not in equal numbers, which is manifestly unequal where Presbyteries are so, but in a due proportion to the churches and parishes within every Presby- tery, as they shall judge convenient ; and it is hereby declared, that all schoolmasters, and teachers of youth in schools, are and shall be liable to the trial, judgment, and censure of the Presbyteries of the bounds, for their sufficiency, qualifica- tions, and deportment in the said office. And lastly, their Majesties, with advice and consent foresaid, do hereby statute and ordain, that the Lords of their Majesties’ privy council, and all other magistrates, judges, and officers of justice, give all due assistance for making the sentences and censures of the Church and judicatures thereof to be obeyed, or other- wise effectual, as accords. The Act of Security passed at the Union of the two king- doms here follows : — Act for Securing the Protestant Religion and Presbyterian Church Government , which vjas the basis of the Treaty of Union , at Edinburgh, January 16, 1707. Our Sovereign Lady, and the Estates of Parliament, con- sidering, That by the late Act of Parliament for a treaty with England, for an union of both kingdoms, it is provided, that the commissioners for that treaty should not treat of or con- cerning any alteration of the worship, discipline, and govern- ment of the Church in this kingdom as now by law established, which treaty being now reported to the Parliament, and it be- ing reasonable and necessary, that the trite Protestant religion, as presently professed within this kingdom , with the worship, discipline , and government of this Church , should be effectually and unalterably secured,, therefore, her Majesty, with advice and consent of the said Estates of Parliament, do hereby establish and confirm the said true Protestant religion, and the worship, discipline, and government of this' Church, to continue without any alteration to the people of this land in all succeeding generations : and more especially, her Majesty, with advice and consent aforesaid, ratifies, approves, and for ever confirms the fifth act of the first Parliament of King William and Queen Mary, entitled, “ An Act ratifying the Confession of Faith, and settling Presbyterian Church Go- vernment, with the hail other Acts of Parliament relating thereto, in prosecution of the declaration of the estates of this kingdom, containing the Claim of Right, bearing date the 1 1th of April, 168.9.” And her Majesty, with advice and consent foresaid, expressly provides and declares, that the foresaid true Protestant religion, contained in the above-mentioned Confession of Faith, with the form and purity of worship pre- sently in use within this Church, and its Presbyterian church government and discipline ; that is to say, the government of the Church by Kirk-Sessions, Presbyteries, Provincial Synods, and General Assembly, all established by the foresaid acts of Parliament, pursuant to the Claim of Right, shall remain and continue unalterable; and that the said Presbyterian j government shall be the only government of the Church within j the. kingdom of Scotland. And further, for the greater security of the foresaid Protes- tant religion, and of the worship, discipline, and government of this Church, as above established, her Majesty, with advice and consent foresaid, statutes and ordains, That the universi- ties and colleges of St Andrews, Glasgow, Aberdeen, and Edinburgh, as now established by law, shall continue within this kingdom for ever : and that in all time coming, no pro- fessors, principals, regents, masters, or others, bearing office in any university, college, or school, within this kingdom, be capable, or be admitted, or allowed to continue in the exer- cise of their said functions, but such as shall own and acknow- ledge the civil government in manner prescribed, or to be prescribed by the acts of Parliament : as also, that before or at their admissions, they do and shall acknowledge, and pro- fess, and shall subscribe to the foresaid Confession of Faith, as the confession of their faith ; and that they will practise and conform themselves to the worship presently in use in this Church, and submit themselves to the government and disci- pline thereof ; and never endeavour, directly or indirectly, the prejudice or subversion of the same ; and that before the respective Presbyteries of their bounds, by whatsomever gift, presentation, or provision they may be thereto provided. And further, her Majesty, with advice foresaid, expressly declares and statutes, that none of the subjects of this king- dom shall be liable to, but all and every one of them, for ever free of, any oath, test, or subscription within this kingdom, contrary to or inconsistent with the foresaid true Protestant religion, and Presbyterian church government, worship, and discipline, as above established : and that the same within the bounds of this Church and kingdom, shall never be im- posed upon or required of them, in any sort. And lastly, that after the decease of her present Majesty (whom God long preserve), the sovereign succeeding to her in the royal government of the kingdom of Great Britain, shall in all time coming, at his or her accession to the crown, swear and subscribe, that they shall inviolably maintain and preserve the foresaid settlement of the true Protestant religion, with the government, worship, discipline, rights and privileges of this Church, as above established by the laws of this kingdom, in prosecution of the Claim of Right : and it is hereby statute and, ordained , that this act of Parliament, with the establish- ment therein contained , shall be held and observed in all time coming, as a fundamental and essential condition of any treaty or union to be concluded betwioct the two kingdoms , without any alteration thereof, or derogation thereto, in any sort for ever : as also, that this act of Parliament, and set- tlement therein contained , shall be insert and repeated in any act of Parliament that shall pass for agreeing and concluding the foresaid treaty or union betwixt the two kingdoms; and that the same shall be therein expressly declared to be a fun- damental and essential condition of the said treaty or union in all time coming. Act Ratifying and Approving the Treaty of Union of the two Kingdoms of Scotland and England, January 16, 1707, founded on the foresaid Act of Security. The Estates of Parliament considering that Articles of Union of the kingdoms of Scotland and England were agreed on the 2'2d of July 1706 years, &c and sicklike, her Majesty, with advice and consent of the Estates of Parlia- ment, resolving to establish the Protestant religion and Pres- byterian church government, has passed in this session of Parliament an “ Act for securing of the Protestant Religion and Presbyterian Church Government,” which, by the tenor thereof, is appointed to be insert in any act ratifying the treaty, and expressly declared to be a fundamental and essential con- dition of the said treaty of union in all time coming,” &c. The Act of Security being here inserted, the document follows : — Which Articles of Union, and act immediately above writ- ten, her Majesty, with advice and consent aforesaid, statutes, 4 Y 722 APPENDIX. enacts, and ordains to be and continue in all time coming the sure and perpetual foundation of a complete and entire union of the two kingdoms of Scotland and England, under the ex- press condition and provision, That this approbation and rati- fication of the foresaid articles and act shall be noways bind- ing on this kingdom, until the said articles and act be ratified, approved, and confirmed by her Majesty, with and by the authority of the Parliament of England, as they are now agreed to, approved and confirmed by her Majesty, with and by the authority of the Parliament of Scotland. Declaring nevertheless, That the Parliament of England may provide for the security of the Church of England, as they think it expedient, to take place within the bounds of the said king- dom of England, and not derogating from the security above provided for establishing of the Church of Scotland within the bounds of this kingdom. As also, the said Parliament of England may extend the additions and other provisions contained in the Articles of Union, as above insert, in favours of the subjects of Scotland, to and in favours of the subjects of England, which shall not suspend or derogate from the I force and effect of this present ratification, but shall be under- stood as herein included, without the necessity of any new ratification in the Parliament of Scotland. And lastly, her Majesty enacts and declares , that all laws and statutes in this kingdom, so far as they are contrary to, or inconsistent with the terms of these articles, as above mentioned, shall from and after the Union cease and become void . The Patronage Act is here inserted to show the violation of national faith, by Queen Anne’s Jacobite ministry, and contrary to the Act of Security and the Revolution Settle- ment. Act 10, Q. Anne, ch. 12, 1711. An Act to restore the Pa- trons to their ancient Rights of presenting Ministers to the Churches vacant in that part of Great Britain called Scotland. I. Whereas, by the antient laws and constitutions of that part of Great Britain called Scotland, the presenting of min- isters to vacant churches did of right belong to the patrons, until, by the twenty-third A ct of the second session of the first Parliament of the late King William and Queen Mary, held in the year one thousand six hundred and ninety, inti- tuled, “ Act concerning Patronages,” the presentation was taken from the patrons, and given to the heritors and elders of the respective parishes ; and, in place of the right of pre- sentation, the heritors and liferenters of every parish were to pay to the respective patrons a small and inconsiderable sum of money, for which the patrons were to renounce their right of presentation in all times thereafter : And whereas by the fifteenth act of the fifth session, and by the thirteenth act of the sixth session, of the first Parliament of the said King William, the one intituled “ An Act for encouraging of Preachers at vacant Churches benorth Forth,” and the other intituled, “ Act in favour of Preachers benorth Forth;” there are several burdens imposed upon vacant stipends, to the pre- judice of the patron’s right of disposing thereof : And whereas that way of calling ministers has proved inconvenient, and has not only occasioned great heats and divisions among those who, by the aforesaid act, were entitled and authorized to call ministers, but likewise has been a great hardship upon the patrons, whose predecessors had founded and endowed those churches ; and who had not received payment or satisfaction for their right of patronage from the aforesaid heritors or life- renters of tiie respective parishes, nor have granted renuncia- tions of their said rights on that account: Be it therefore I enacted, by the Queen’s most excellent Majesty, by and with I the advice and consent of the Lords spiritual and temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, that the aforesaid act, made in the year one thousand six hundred and ninety, intituled, “ Act concerning Patronages,” in so far as the same relates to the presentation of ministers by heritors and others therein men- j tioned, be, and is hereby repealed and made void ; and that the aforesaid fifteenth act of the fifth session, and thirteenth act of the sixth session, of the first Parliament of King Wil- liam. be, and are hereby likewise repealed and made void : and that in all time coming, the right of all and every patron or patrons to the presentation of ministers to churches and benefices, and the disposing of the vacant stipends for pious uses within the parish, be restored, settled, and confirmed to them, the aforesaid acts, or any other act, statute, or custom I to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding ; and that from j and after the first day of May one thousand seven hundred and twelve, it shall and may be lawful for her Majesty, her heirs and successors, and for every other person or persons who have right to any patronage or patronages of any church or churches whatsoever, in that part of Great Britain called Scotland (and who have not made and subscribed a formal re- nunciation thereof under their hands), to present a qualified minister or ministers to any church or churches whereof they are patrons, which shall, after the first day of May, happen to be vacant ; and the Presbytery of the respective bounds shall, and is hereby obliged to receive and admit, in the same man- ner, such qualified person or persons, minister or ministers, as shall be presented by the respective patrons, as the persons or ministers presented before the making of this act ought to have been admitted. II. Provided always, that in case any patron or patrons have accepted of and received any sum or sums of money from the heritors or liferenters of any parish, or from the Magistrates or Town Council of any borough, in satisfaction of their right of presentation, and have discharged or re- nounced the same under their hand, that nothing herein shall be construed to restore such patron or patrons to their right of presentation ; any thing in this present act to the contrary notwithstanding. III. Provided also, and it is hereby enacted, by the autho- rity aforesaid, that in case the patron of any church aforesaid shall neglect or refuse to present any qualified minister to such church that shall be vacant the said first day of May, or shall happen to be vacant at any time thereafter, for the spaco of six months after the said first day of May, or after such vacancy shall happen, that the right of presentation shall ac- crue and belong for that time to the Presbytery of the bounds where such church is, who are to present a qualified person for that vacancy, tanquam jure devoluto. IV. And be it further enacted and declared by the autho- rity aforesaid, that the patronage and right of presentations of ministers to all churches which belonged to archbishops, bishops, or other dignified persons, in the year one thousand six hundred and eighty-nine, before Episcopacy was abolished, as well as those which formerly belonged to the Crown, shall and do of right belong to her Majesty, her heirs and succes- sors, who may present qualified ministers to such church or churches, and dispose of the vacant stipends thereof for pious uses, in the same way and manner as her Majesty, her heirs and successors, may do in the case of other patronages be- longing to the Crown. V. Declaring always, that nothing in this present act con- tained shall extend, or be construed to extend, to repeal and make void the aforesaid twenty-third act of the second session of the first parliament of the late King William and Queen Mary, excepting so far as relates to the calling and presenting of ministers, and to the disposing of vacant stipends, in pre- judice of the patrons only. Excerpt from Act 4 and 5 William IV. c. 41. Be it enacted, &c., that where any church, chapel, or other place of worship, in that part of Great Britain called Scotland, built or acquired and endowed by voluntary contribution, shall be erected into a parochial church, either as an addi- tional church within a parish already provided with a paro- chial church, or as the church of a separate parish to be erected out of the part or parts of any existing parish or parishes, whether the same be established and erected quoad spiritua- ls, by authority of the church courts of the Established Church of Scotland, or also quoad temporalia, by authority of the Commissioners of Teinds, neither the King’s Majesty, nor any private person, nor any body politic or corporate, having right to the patronage of the parish or parishes within which such additional churches shall be established, or out of which such new parishes shall be erected, shall have any claim, right, or title whatsoever, to the patronage of such newly established churches, or newly erected parishes ; but the right of presenting ministers thereto shall be exercised according to the manner, and subject to the conditions, which shall be pro- vided or sanctioned by the church courts establishing the said churches, or where new parishes shall be erected, as shall be prescribed and regulated by the said church courts erecting such new parishes into separate spiritual jurisdictions, sub- ject always to such alterations as shall be made by the said courts, according to the laws of the Church from time to time. APPENDIX. 723 [Such an act as this was rendered necessary, in order to protect new churches from falling into the hands of the paro- chial patron, as had been done in the case of Whitburn, by a perverted interpretation of the Patronage act. A decision had been given in that case that it was lawful for the patron to appropriate to himself the nomination of a minister to any new place of worship, in connexion with the Church of Scot- land. upon what conditions soever erected, and whatever stipulations might he inserted in its constitution to the con- trary. In this case, which was to serve as a precedent for all future erections, a' blow had been struck at the antipatronage opinions that were fast gaining ascendancy in the Church ; and therefore, to counteract all such proceedings for time to come, the foregoing act was acknowledged as a law of the church. For a time the Church Extension Scheme continued to flourish ; but the Moderates, alike regardless of popular sentiment and voluntary contribution, were at the same time indefatigably engaged in devising schemes for their suppres- sion. In the Court of Session, a majority was found willing to sanction the views of the Moderate party ; and therefore, ministers of new churches, who had been inducted in terms of the new act, were found to have been illegally- admitted ; collections made at the church doors were declared to belong to the heritors for the support of the poor ; and parochial districts assigned to the new incumbents, quoad spiritualia , were pronounced to be an illegal interference with the civil rights of the parish minister. The worst feature, however, which Moderate hostility has assumed against the new churches is, that of denying the legality and validity of the measures adopted in church courts, supreme and subordinate, during the time the ministers of the new churches sat and voted in church courts, comprising the whole period between May 1834 and May 1843. With strange inconsistency, the Court of Session has also given its sanction to this, although one of these ministers belonging to the Moderate party occupied the Moderator’s chair in the General Assembly within the time alluded to. Had this decision been cai 1 - ried into execution, not a few of the Residuary party would before this have been ejected from their churches, manses, and glebes, in consequence of their ordination and induction having thereby been rendered null and void, being the deci- sion of an illegal court. This, however, both the civil court and the Moderate party foresaw, and therefore matters were not pushed to extremity. The Disruption has happily saved I them from any farther fear on that point, and when a few ! more years have weeded out the whole of the Evangelical party, they will be left to share among themselves and their i friends the quoad civilia emoluments of the church, without I dread of interruption.] No. XY. Statutes of the Church regarding Patronage and the Settle- ment of Ministers. Much misunderstanding exists upon this all important point ; although it must be clearly evident to every unpre- judiced mind that patronage is repugnant to the spirit, prin- ciples, and constitution of the Presbyterian Church of Scot- land. There has always been in the church, however, a party more political than religious which has maintained an opposite doctrine, which has very readily suecumbed, to sub- serve their own ends, to the government of the country, and has lent a willing hand to the enforcement of lay patronage. To settle this question, then, it is not necessary to inquire what are the sentiments of any party ; but what the Scrip- tural standards of the church enact. The great and funda- mental doctrine of Scripture, “That the Lord Jesus Christ is the sole King and Head of the Church,” has always been maintained by the Presbyterian Church, and therefore they have always given out, that the appointment of officebearers in Christ’s spiritual kingdom must be in subjection to the prescribed regulation of its Divine Head, as these can be gathered from his own words, or in conformity to apostolical practice. And upon the first of these points it will be found, that the Lord Jesus has laid down the principle of his people’s responsibility in judging of who is to be their spiritual con- ductor and teacher in the things that concern His kingdom. The apostolical practice upon this head is perhaps even more definite, as will be found by consulting their mode of pro- cedure in the few instances that are upon record, as to the way and manner in which the appointment of officebearers in the church was conducted under their own immediate super- intendence. From these it must appear evident that the admission or rejection of officebearers, i. e. pastors, elders, and deacons, depended solely upon the direct nomination by the people themselves, or under their concurrent sanction and approval. Hence, then, the validity of the doctrine, that there can be no scriptural appointment to the office of pastor, or preaching presbyter, without the consent and approval of the church ; that is, of those who are in full communion, having been partakers of sealing ordinances ; and of fair and honest reputation at the time. These are the members of Christ’s spiritual body, of which He is the only Head, in whom is vested the exclusive privilege of nominating to the sacred office. But in the Established Church of Scotland now, this doctrine is made light of, and explained away ; and the people have no choice, no veto. Civil dictation has become supreme ; the Call has been declared a non-entity, — it has ceased to be a scriptural Presbyterian Church, — Eras- tianism has rung its funeral knell ; and it ranks no higher than a secular corporation. For the truth of these statements the following extracts are subjoined. In the First Book of Discipline, fourth Head, chap, iw sect. 2, drawn up by John Knox and others , it is said, that : — “ It appertained to the people, and to every several con- gregation, to elect their minister.” (First Booh of Discipline, Fourth Head, chap. iv. sect. 2.) “ For altogether this is to be avoided, that any man be vio- lently intruded or thrust in upon any congregation ; but this liberty with all care must be reserved to every several church,, to have their votes and suffrages in election of their ministers.” (Ibid., sect. 4.) “ The admission of ministers to their offices must consist in the consent of the people and church whereto they shall be appointed, and approbation of the learned ministers appointed for their examination.” (Ibid., chap. iv. sect 8.) In the Second Book of Discipline, drawn up by Andrew Melville and others, and acknowledged by the Church of Scotland, in 1581, are to be found the following: — “ This ordinary and outward calling has two parts — election and ordination. Election is the choosing out of a person or persons, most able for the office that vaikes, by the judgment of the eldership, and consent of the congregation to whom the person or persons are appointed * * * In this ordinary election it is to be eschewed that any person be in- truded into any of the offices of the kirk contrary to the will of the congregation to which they are appointed, or without the voice of the eldership.” (Second Book of Discipline, chap. iii. sect. 4, 5.) “ The liberty of the election of persons called to the eccle- siastical functions, and observed without interruption, so long 724 APPENDIX. as the Kirk was not corrupted by antichrist, we desired to be restored and retained within this realm ; so that none be intruded upon any congregation, either by the prince or any inferior person, without lawful election, and the assent of the people over whom the person is placed, — as the practice of the apostolic and primitive Kirk, and good order, crave. “ And because this order, which God’s Word craves, cannot stand with patronages and presentations to benefices used in the Pope’s Kirk, we desire all them that truly fear God, earnestly to consider, that forasmuch as the names of patron- ages and benefices, together with the effect thereof, have flowed from the Pope and corruption of the canon law only, in so far as thereby any person was intruded or placed over kirks having curam animarum ; and forasmuch as that man- ner of proceeding hath no ground in the Word of God, but is contrary to the same, and to the said liberty of election, they ought not now to have place in this light of reformation ; and, therefore, whosoever will embrace God’s Word, and desire the kingdom of his Son, Christ Jesus, to be advanced, they will also embrace that policy and order which the Word I of God and upright estate of this Kirk crave ; otherwise it is in vain that they have professed the same.” ( Ibid ., chap, xii. pars. 9, 10.) The discrepancy that seems to exist between the language of the First and Second Books of Discipline, in the apparent preference given in the Second to the “judgment of the eldership,” or presbytery, may be accounted for from the fact, that about that period the people of Scotland were in a state of great mental degradation ; for, although they were eman- cipated from the servile yoke of Popery, they were still crushed under the humiliating tyranny of a despotic civil government. To reconcile the conflicting expressions, it may be necessary to observe, that “ every article of religious freedom which was then obtained was gained for the people composing the church, along with the officebearers. This explanation, then, completely puts to silence the unfounded statement of the Moderate party, who maintain that the refor- mation sought by our forefathers was not for religious liberty to the people ; but that the Ecclesiastical Courts might pro- cure for themselves a supremacy of power. The Church of Scotland had, indeed, succeeded in procuring a ratification of her principles, under the royal sign manual, by encountering the wrath of the sovereign and standing between him and i the people, that they might gain for them that liberty where- j with the Redeemer makes his followers free ; but there was nothing in the bearing of these pious men, that could for a moment countenance the assertion, that it was for themselves, and not for the people, they so struggled, and bled, and died. Such a voluntary perversion.of judgment is altogether incom- patible with the facts of history. The system may be conge- i nial to the taste and feelings of Moderatism ; hut it never met with the approbation of the pure Presbyterian Church of Scotland. That the early Reformers considered patronage to be in- j consistent with the word of God appears evident from an act passed in the year 1582, in order to correct an abuse which was then beginning to creep into the church, by the “ ambi- tion, covetousness, and indirect dealing of sundry,” who I I sought to enter into the ministry by unfair dealing with ! 1 patrons ; and who, when admitted, sought as strenuously to 1 avoid correction and punishment for their transgression, I “ seeking by the civil power to exempt and withdraw them- selves from the jurisdiction of the kirk;” and “procuring letters or charges to impair, hurt, or stay the said jurisdic- tion.” Dealing of this kind was to be visited with the high- est church censure ; but, not to come under the ban of the legislature, it was added — “ and this act to be noways pre- judicial to the laic patrons, and their presentations, unto the | time the laws be reformed according to God's word. |l — Farther, when king James, in 1588, was squandering away the property of the church, annexing patronages to lands which had been unjustly confiscated and bestowed upon men who were hostile to the church, and even granting patronages to persons who had no lands, the General Assembly “ inhib- ited all Commissioners and Presbyteries from giving collation or admission to any persons presented by such new patrons.” Can anything be more evident than this, that patronage was not even then, nor at any time since, admitted by the Church | of Scotland as lawful and valid? By these and similar methods of injustice, nearly the whole of church patronages were created ; the church patrimony was spoliated, and con- ferred upon creatures the most undeserving, by the weak and wicked policy of the reigning monarch. The Assembly of 1596, sensible of the growing evil, and aware that much reformation was necessary to the due admis- sion of godly men to the holy ministry, appointed a com- mittee to investigate into these abuses. One of the resolu- tions to which the committee came runs thus : — “ Because, by presentations many are forcibly thrust into the ministry, and upon congregations, that utter thereafter that they were not called by God, it would be provided, that none seek presentations to benefices without advice of the Presbytery within the bounds whereof the benefice lies ; and, if any do in the contrary, they are to be repelled, as ret ambitus f (guilty of circumvention.) At the Second Reformation, in 1638, it was farther enacted “ anent the presenting of either pastors, or readers, or schoolmasters, to particular congregations : — “ That there he respect had to the congregation, and that no person be intruded in any office of the kirk contrary to the will of the congregation to which they are appointed ;” and in 1649, the Scottish parliament passed an act for the total aboli- tion of patronage, the tenor of which is as follows : — Directory for the Election of Ministers. “When any place of the ministry in a congregation is vacant, it is incumbent to the Presbytery with all diligence to | send one of their number to preach to that congregation, who. in his doctrine, is to represent to them the necessity of pro- viding the place with a qualified pastor ; and to exhort them to fervent prayer and supplication to the Lord, that he would send them a pastor according to his own heart ; as also he is to signify, that the Presbytery, out of their care of that flock, will send unto them preachers whom they may hear ; and if ; they have a desire to hear any other, they will endeavour to ! procure them a hearing of that person, or persons, upon the | suit of the elders to the Presbytery. “ Within some competent time thereafter, the Presbytery is j again to send one or more of their number to the said vacant j congregation, on a certain day appointed before for that effect, i who are to convene and hear sermon the foresaid day ; which being ended, and intimation being made by the minister, that they are to go about the election of a pastor for that congre- gation, the Session of the congregation shall meet and proceed to the election, the action being moderated by him that preached ; and if the people shall upon the intimation of the person agreed upon by the Session, acquiesce and consent to the said person, that the matter being reported to the Presby- tery by commissioners sent from the Session, they are to pro- ceed to the trial of the person thus elected ; and, finding him qualified, to admit him to the ministry in the said congrega- j tion. “ But if it happen that the major part of the congregation dissent from the person agreed upon by the Session, in that case the matter shall be brought unto the Presbytery, who shall judge of the same ; and if they do not find their dissent to be grounded on causeless prejudice, they are to appoint a j new election, in manner above specified. “ But if a lesser part of the Session or congregation show their dissent from the election, without exceptions relevant , and verified to the Presbytery ; notwithstanding thereof, the | | Presbytery shall go on to the trials and ordination of the per- t APPENDIX. 725 son elected ; yet all possible diligence and tenderness must be used to bring all parties to an harmonious agreement. “ It is to be understood that no person under the censure of the Kirk because of any scandalous offence, is to be admitted to have a hand in the election of a minister. “ Where the congregation is disaffected and malignant, in that case the Presbytery is to provide them with a minister.” In despite of this, however, and in violation of good faith, Charles II. abolished Presbyterianism altogether in Scotland, and reintroduced the obnoxious system of patronage, after the long and arduous contendings of the church to the con- trary. The Revolution settlement, however, at the expul- sion of the Stuarts from the throne of Britain, again confirmed and ratified its abolition, by an Act of Security. But this state of affairs was destined to be but of short duration ; for, in 1712, by what is called the Act of Queen Anne, the national faith was once more violated, notwithstanding the earnest remonstrances of the General Assembly at the time; and afterwards, in 1736, when the Evangelical party, who had a temporary ascendancy in the Church, passed the following act “ against the intrusion of Ministers into vacant congrega- tions, and Recommendations to Presbyteries concerning set- tlements : — “ The General Assembly, considering, from Act of Assem- bly August 6, 1575, Second Book of Discipline, chap. iii. pars. 4, 6, and 8, registrate in the Assembly books, and ap- pointed to be subscribed by all ministers, and ratified by Acts of Parliament, and likewise by the Act of Assembly 1638, December 17 and 18, and Assembly 1715, act 9, that it is, and has been since the Reformation, the principle of this Church, 1 that no minister be intruded into any parish contrary to the will of the congregation ;’ do therefore seriously re- commend to all the judicatories of the Church, to have a j due regard to the said principle in planting vacant congrega- [ tions : and that all Presbyteries be at pains to bring about harmony and unanimity in congregations, and to avoid every thing that may excite or encourage unreasonable exceptions I in people against a worthy person that may be proposed to be their minister in the present situation and circumstances of the Church, so as none be intruded into such parishes, as they regard the glory of God and edification of the body of Christ.” Before that Assembly broke up, instructions were given to the Commission, and annually afterwards, to every succeeding Commission, until the year 1784, “ empowering and directing the said Commission to make due application to the King and Parliament, for redress of the grievance of patronage, in case a favourable opportunity for so doing shall occur during the subsistence of this Commission.” In 1782, the Moderate party had succeeded so far in re- ducing the rights of the people to a mere form, that a pro- posal was made to abolish even the only remaining privilege they enjoyed ; viz., the Call ; but this, however, was success- fully resisted, and the subsequent act was passed : — “ Upon a motion that the resolution of Assembly respect- ing the moderation of calls should, for the satisfaction of all concerned, be converted into a declaratory act, and printed j amongst the Acts of Assembly, the General Assembly agreed thereto without a vote ; and in terms of said resolu- i tion did and hereby do declare, that the moderation of a call, in the settlement of ministers, is agreeable to the immemo- rial and constitutional practice of this Church, and ought to be continued.” In this state the induction of ministers continued till the passing of the memorable Act on Calls, on the 29th May, 1835, when the General Assembly enacted. “ That it is a fundamental law of this Church, that no pastor shall be intruded on any congregation contraryto the will of the people; and, in order that this principle may be carried into full effect, the General Assembly, with the consent of a majority of the Presbyteries of this Church, do declare, enact, and ordain, That it shall be an instruction to Presbyteries, that if, at the moderating in a call to a vacant pastoral charge, the major part of the male heads of families, members of the vacant con- gregation, and in full communion with the Church, shall dis- approve of the person in whose favour the call is proposed to be moderated in, such disapproval shall be deemed sufficient ground for the Presbytery rejecting such person, and that he shall be rejected accordingly, and due notice thereof forth- with given to all concerned ; but that, if the major part of the said heads of families shall not disapprove of such per- son to be their pastor, the Presbytery shall proceed with the settlement according to the rules of the Church : And fur- ther declare, that no person shall be held to be entitled to disapprove as aforesaid, who shall refuse, if required, solemnly to declare, in presence of the Presbytery, that he is actuated by no factious or malicious motive, but solely by a conscientious regard to the spiritual interest of himself or the congregation.” The usual form of a Call runs in the following words, which it may be proper here to transcribe : — “ We the Heritors, Elders, Heads of Families, and Pari- shioners of the Parish of , within the bounds of the Presbytery of , and county of , taking into con- sideration the present destitute state of the said Parish, through the want of a Gospel ministry among us, occasioned by the death of our late pastor, the Rev. , being satis- fied with the learning, abilities, and other good qualifications of you, Mr , Preacher of the Gospel, and hav- ing heard you preach to our satisfaction and edification, do hereby invite and call you,tbe said Mr- , to take charge and oversight of this Parish, and to come and labour among us in the work of the Gospel ministry, hereby promis- ing to you all due respect and encouragement in the Lord. We likewise entreat the Reverend Presbytery of to approve and concur with this our most cordial call, and to use all the proper means for making the same effectual, by your ordination and settlement among us, as soon as the steps ne- cessary thereto will admit. In witness whereof, we subscribe these presents, at the Church of , on the day of , years.” Adherence to such a solemn document as the above, in terms of the Veto act, reduced Scotland to a state of agitation and religious ferment from one end to the other. Application was made to parliament for the total repeal of patronage by the Evangelical party in the church ; and a claim of Rights, asserting her spiritual independence, declaring Christ to be the sole and only Head of the Church, and maintaining that His authority was decidedly in favour of their views, was given in to the government. Both of these were disregarded. The consequence, therefore, has been, that the majority of the Evangelical Ministers have been driven out of the church, because they would not bow the knee to Cesar, and perform deeds at the beck of the civil court, contrary to the primitive and established principles of the church ; contrary to the statute law of the land ; contrary to the command, and dero- gatory to the Crown Rights of the Lord Jesus Christ, the ALONE KING AND HEAD OF THE CHURCH. No. XVI. The Protest. We, the undersigned ministers and elders, chosen as com- missioners to the General Assembly of the Church of Scot- land, indicted to meet this day, but precluded from holding the said Assembly by reason of the circumstances hereinafter set forth, in consequence of which a free Assembly of the Church of Scotland, in accordance with the laws and constitu- tion of the said Church, cannot at this time be holden, — con- sidering that the Legislature, by their rejection of the Claim of Rights adopted by the last General Assembly of the said Church, and their refusal to give redress and protection against the jurisdiction assumed, and the coercion of late repeatedly attempted to be exercised over the courts of the Church in matters spiritual by the civil courts, have recognised and fixed the conditions of the Church Establishment, as henceforward 726 APPENDIX. to subsist in Scotland, to be such as these have been pro- nounced and declared by the said civil courts in their several recent decisions, in regard to matters spiritual and ecclesiasti- cal, whereby it has been inter alia declared, — ls£, That the courts of the Church as now established, and members thereof, are liable to be coerced by the civil courts in the exercise of their spiritual functions ; and in particular, in their admission to the office of the holy ministry, and the constitution of the pastoral relation, and that they are subject to be compelled to intrude ministers on reclaiming congrega- tions, in opposition to the fundamental principles of the Church, and their views of the Word of God, and to the liber- ties of Christ’s people. 2 d, That the said civil courts have power to interfere Avith, and interdict the preaching of the gospel and administration of ordinances as authorized and enjoined by the Church courts of the Establishment. 3 d, That the said civil courts have power to suspend spirit- ual censures pronounced by the Church courts of the Estab- lishment against ministers and probationers of the Church, and to interdict their execution, as to spiritual effects, func- tions, and privileges. 4th, That the said civil courts have power to reduce and set aside the sentences of the Church courts of the Establishment, deposing ministers from the office of the holy ministry, and depriving probationers of their license to preach the gospel, with reference to the spiritual status, functions, and privileges of such ministers and probationers, — restoring them to the spiritual office and status of which the Church courts had de- prived them. 5th , That the said civil courts have power to determine on the right to sit as members of the supreme and other judica- tories of the Church by law established, and to issue inter- dicts against sitting and voting therein, irrespective of the judgment and determination of the said judicatories. 6th, That the said civil courts have power to supersede the majority of a Church court of the Establishment, in regard to [ the exercise of its spiritual functions as a Church court, and to authorize the minority to exercise the said functions, in op- position to the court itself, and to the superior judicatories of the Establishment. 7th , That the said civil courts have power to stay processes of discipline pending before courts of the Church by law established, and to interdict such courts from proceeding therein. 6th, That no pastor of a congregation can be admitted into the Church courts of the Establishment, and allowed to rule, as well as to teach, agreeable to the institution of the office by the Head of the Church, nor to sit in any of the judicatories of the Church, inferior or supreme, and that no additional pro- vision can be made for the exercise of spiritual discipline among members of the Church, though not affecting any patrimonial interests, and no alteration introduced in the state of pastoral superintendence and spiritual discipline in any parish, without the coercion of a civil court. All which jurisdiction and power on the part of the said civil courts severally above specified, whatever proceeding may have given occasion to its exercise, is, in our opinion, in itself inconsistent with Christian liberty, — with the autho- rity which the Head of the Church hath conferred on the Church alone. And further, considering that a General Assembly, com- 1 posed, in accordance with the laws and fundamental principles of the Church, in part of commissioners, themselves admitted 1 without the sanction of the civil court, or chosen by presby- teries, composed in part of members not having that sanction, cannot be constituted as an Assembly of the Establishment, without disregarding the law and the legal conditions of the same, as now fixed and declared. And further, considering that such commissioners as afore- said would, as members of an Assembly of the Establishment, be liable to be interdicted from exercising their functions, and to be subjected to civil coercion at the instance of any indivi- dual having interest who might apply to the civil courts for that purpose. And considering, further, that civil coercion has already been in divers instances applied for and used, whereby certain 1 j commissioners returned to the Assembly this day appointed to J | have been liolden, have been interdicted from claiming their | seats, and from sitting and voting therein ; and certain pres- byteries have been, by interdicts directed against the mem- bers, prevented from freely choosing commissioners to the said Assembly ; whereby the freedom of such Assembly, and the liberty of election thereto, has been forcibly obstructed and taken away. And further, considering that, in these circumstances, a free 1 Assembly of the Church of Scotland by law established cannot j at this time be holden, and that any Assembly, in accordance with the fundamental principles of the Church, cannot be con- j stituted in connexion with the State, without violating the | conditions which must now r , since the rejection by the Legis- lature of the Church’s Claim of Right, be held to be the con- ditions of the Establishment. And considering that, Avhile heretofore, as members of Church judicatories ratified by law, and recognised by the Constitution of the kingdom, Ave held ourselves entitled and bound to exercise and maintain the jurisdiction vested in these judicatories with the sanction of the Constitution, notwith- standing the decrees as to matters spiritual and ecclesiastical of the civil courts, because we could not see that the State had required submission thereto as a condition of the Establish- ment ; but, on the contrary, were satisfied that the State, by the acts of the Parliament of Scotland, for ever and unalter- ably secured to this nation by the Treaty of Union, had repu- diated any power in the civil courts to pronounce such decrees, we are now constrained to acknowledge it to be the ! mind and will of the State, as recently declared, that such ! submission should and does form a condition of the Estab- j lishment, and of the possession of the benefits thereof ; and that, as we cannot, without committing what we believe to be sin, — in opposition to God’s law, in disregard of the honour and authority of Christ’s crown, and in violation of j our own solemn vows, — comply with this condition ; we cannot in conscience continue connected with, and retain the benefits of, the Establishment, to which such condition is attached. We, therefore, the ministers and elders aforesaid, on this, the first occasion since the rejection by the Legislature of the Church’s Claim of Right, when the Commissioners chosenfrom throughout the bounds of the Church to the General Assembly appointed to have been this day holden, are convened together, do protest that the conditions foresaid, while we deem them contrary to, and subversive of, the settlement of Church gov- ernment effected at the Revolution, and solemnly guaranteed by the Act of Security and Treaty of Union, are also at vari- ance with God’s Word, in opposition to the doctrines and fundamental principles of the Church of Scotland, inconsistent with the freedom essential to the right constitution of a Church of Christ, and incompatible with the government which He, as the Head of His Church, hath therein appointed distinct from the civil magistrate. And we further protest, that any Assembly constituted in submission to the conditions now declared to be law, and under the civil coercion which has been brought to bear in the elec- tion of commissioners to the Assembly this day appointed to have been holden, and on the commissioners chosen thereto, is not and shall not be deemed a free and lawful Assembly of the Church of Scotland, according to the original and funda- mental principles thereof, and that the Claim, Declaration, and Protest, of the General Assembly Avhich convened at Edinburgh in May 1842, as the act of a free and lawful As- sembly of the said Church, shall be holden as setting forth the true constitution of the said Church ; and that the said Claim, along with the laws of the Church now subsisting, shall in nowise be affected by whatsoever acts and proceedings of any Assembly constituted under the conditions now declared to be j the law, and in submission to the coercion now imposed on the Establishment. And, finally, while firmly asserting the right and duty of the civil magistrate, to maintain and support an establishment of religion in accordance with God’s Word, and reserving to oursehes and our successors to strive by all lawful means, as opportunity shall in God’s good providence be offered, to se- cure the performance of this duty agreeably to the Scriptures, and in implement of the statutes of the kingdom of Scotland, and the obligations of the Treaty of Union, as understood by us and our ancestors, but acknowledging that Ave do not hold ourselves at liberty to retain the benefits of the Establishment Avhile A\ r e cannot comply with the conditions now to be deemed thereto attached — we protest, that in the circumstances in which we are placed, it is and shall be laAvful for us and such other commissioners chosen to the Assembly appointed to have been this day holden, as may concur with us, to withdraw to a separate place of meeting, for the purpose of taking steps for APPENDIX. 727 ourselves and all who adhere to us — maintaining with us the Confession of Faith and Standards of the Church of Scotland, as heretofore understood — for separating in an orderly way from the Establishment ; and thereupon adopting such mea- sures as may be competent to us, in humble dependence on God’s grace and the aid of the Holy Spirit, for the advance- ment of His glory, the extension of the Gospel of our Lord and Saviour, and the administration of the affairs of Christ’s house, according to His holy W ord ; and we do now withdraw accordingly, humbly and solemnly acknowledging the hand of the Lord in the things which have come upon us, because of our manifold sins, and the sins of this Church and nation ; but, at the same time, with an assured conviction, that we are not responsible for any consequences that may follow from this our enforced separation from an Establishment which we loved and prized — through interference with conscience, the dishonour done to Christ’s Crown, and the rejection of his sole and supreme authority as King in his Church. No. XVII. Her Majesty's Letter to the General Assembly. Victoria R. Right reverend and well-beloved ! W e greet you well. Faithful to the solemn engagement, which binds us to maintain inviolate the Presbyterian Church of Scotland in all its rights and privileges, we gladly renew the assurance, that we desire to extend to you the countenance and support which the General Assembly has long received from our royal an- cestors. In other circumstances, it might have sufficed to adhere to the forms which have been generally observed in our former communications to you, and to express our anxious hope that Christian charity will, as heretofore, abound among you and restrain all animosities ; but in the present state of the Church, and adverting to the discussions which of late have so unhap- pily disturbed its peace, we desire to address you with more than usual earnestness and anxiety. It behoves you to remember, that unity in the Church is the bond of peace ; but that schism and its pernicious effects may tend seriously to endanger that religious Establishment from which Scotland has derived inestimable benefits. The faith of our crown is pledged to uphold you in the full enjoyment of every privilege which you can justly claim : but you will bear in mind, that the rights and property of an Es- tablished Church are conferred by law ; it is by law that the Church of Scotland is united with the State, and that her endowments are secured ; and the ministers of religion, claim- ing the sanction of law in defence of their privileges, are speci- ally bound by their sacred calling to be examples of obedience. The act ratifying the Confession of Faith, and settling Presbyterian Church government in Scotland, was adopted at the Union, and is now the act of the British Parliament. The settlement thus fixed cannot be annulled by the will or decla- ration of any number of individuals : those who are dissatisfied with the terms of this settlement, may renounce it for them- selves ; but the union of the Church of Scotland with the State is indissoluble while the statutes remain unrepealed which recognise the Presbyterian Church as the Church established by law within the kingdom of Scotland. We cannot doubt, that your anxious consideration will be | given to various important matters connected with the welfare of your Church, which require immediate adjustment. The Act of Assembly passed in the year 1834, on the sub- ject of calls, has come under the review of competent tribu- nals ; and various proceedings taken in pursuance of this act have been pronounced by solemn judgments to be illegal. It has not yet been rescinded by the Assembly; and a conflict of authority between the law of the land and an act of the Church, in a matter where civil rights and civil jurisdiction are concerned, cannot be prolonged without injurious conse- quences. The Church of Scotland, occupying its true position in friendly alliance with the State, is justly entitled to expect the aid of Parliament in removing any doubts which may have arisen with respect to the right construction of the statutes relating to the admission of ministers. You may safely confide in the wisdom of Parliament ; and we shall readily give our assent to any measure which the Legislature may pass for the purpose of securing to the people the full privilege of objection, and to the Church judicatories the ex- clusive right of judgment. There is another matter not less important, the present position of ministers in unendowed districts. The law, as confirmed by a recent judgment, has declared that new i parishes cannot be created by the authority of the Church alone, and that ministers placed in such districts are not en- titled to act in Church courts. If it shall appear that the efficiency of the Church is thereby impaired, and that the means of extending her usefulness are curtailed, the law to which such effects are ascribed, may re- quire consideration and amendment ; but until it be so consid- ered by the Legislature, and while it remains unaltered, w e are persuaded that it will be implicitly obeyed by the General Assembly. You will deliberate on such of these matters as fall within your cognizance attentively and calmly ; and we commend you to the guidance of Divine Providence, praying that you may be directed to the adoption of wise counsels, which shall promote the permanent interests and honour of the Church, and the religious peace and moral welfare of our people. YVe have again constituted and appointed our right- trusty and entirely beloved cousin, John Marquis of Bute, K. T., to be the representative of our royal person in this Assembly. And we are certain that his prudence and approved merits, and his tried attachment to the Church of Scotland, wdll render him acceptable to you in the execution of the duties of his high office. He possesses our full authority for the exercise of our royal prerogative in all matters relating to the present Assembly, in which, in obedience to our instructions to him, he may be called upon to act for us on our behalf. We implore the blessing of God on your deliberations, trusting that He will overrule all events for the good of his Church, and for the spiritual welfare of the people committed to your charge : and we feel assured that divine grace will not be withdrawn from the labours of the ministers of the Church established in this part of the United Kingdom. And so we bid you heartily farewell. Given at our Court at St James’s, the 15th day of May, 1843, in the sixth year of our reign. By her Majesty’s command, (Signed) James Graham. No. XVIII. Act of Separation and Deed of Demission. The ministers and elders subscribing the Protest made on Thursday, the eighteenth of this instant May, at the meeting of the commissioners chosen to the General Assembly, ap- pointed to have been that day holden, against the freedom and lawfulness of any Assembly which might then be consti- tuted, and against the subversion recently effected in the con- stitution of the Church of Scotland, together with the ministers j and elders adhering to the said Protest, in this their General j Assembly convened, did, in prosecution of the said Protest, j and of the Claim of Right adopted by the General Assembly, which met at Edinburgh in May eighteen hundred and forty- tw r o years, and on the grounds therein set forth, and hereby do, for themselves and all who adhere to them, separate from and abandon the present subsisting Ecclesiastical Establish- ment in Scotland, and did, and hereby do, abdicate and re- nounce the status and privileges derived to them, or any of them, as parochial ministers or elders, from the said Estab- lishment, through its connexion with the State, and all rights and emoluments pertaining to them, or any of them, by virtue hereof : Declaring that they hereby in no degree abandon or impair the rights belonging to them as ministers of Christ’s gospel, and pastors and elders of particular congre- gations, to perform freely and fully the functions of their offices towards their respective congregations, or such portions thereof as may adhere to them ; and that they are and shall be free to exercise government and discipline in their several judicatories, separate from the Establishment, according to God’s Word, and the constitution and Standards of the Church of Scotland, as heretofore understood; and that henceforth they are not, and shall not, be subject in any respect to the ecclesiastical judicatories established in Scot- land by law ; reserving always the rights and benefits accru- ing to them, or any of them, under the provisions of the statutes respecting the Ministers’ Widows’ Fund : And further, Declaring, that this present act shall noways be held as a renunciation on the part of such of the ministers foresaid, as are Ministers of Churches built by private contribution, and not provided or endowed by the State, of any rights which may be found to belong to them, or their congregations, in regard to the same, by virtue of the intentions and destination of the contributors to the erection of the said churches, or otherwise according to law ; all which are fully reserved to the Ministers foresaid and their congregations : — And further, the said Ministers and Elders in this their General Assembly convened, while they refuse to acknowledge the supreme ecclesiastical judicatory established by law in Scotland, and now holding its sittings in Edinburgh, to be a free Assembly | of the Church of Scotland, or a lawful Assembly of the said | Church, according to the true and original constitution thereof, ! and disclaim its authority as to matters spiritual, yet in respect of the recognition given to it by the State, and the powers, in consequence of such recognition, belonging to it, with reference to the temporalities of the Establishment, and the Rights derived thereto from the State, hereby appoint a dupli- j cate of this act to be subscribed by their Moderator, and also I by the several Ministers, members of this Assembly, now j I present in Edinburgh, for their individual interests, to be [ transmitted to the clerk of the said ecclesiastical judicatoiy ! | by law established, for the purpose of certiorating them, that j the benefices held by such of the said ministers, or others i adhering to this Assembly, as were incumbents of benefices, George Muirhead, Minister at Cramond. j John Bruce, Minister at Edinburgh. Wm. Simpson, Minister at Edinburgh. Geo. R. Davidson, Minister at Edinburgh. Thomas Addis, Minister at Morningside, Edinburgh. J ohn Sym, Minister at Edinburgh. James Buchanan, Minister at Edinburgh. James Manson, Minister at Dean, Edinburgh. Thomas Chalmers, Professor of Divinity, Edinburgh. Rob. S. Candlish, Minister at St George’s, Edinburgh. Wm. K. Tweedie, Minister at Edinburgh. John Thomson, Minister at Leith. James Begg, Minister at Liberton. : And. McKenzie, Minister at Edinburgh. [Edinburgh. David Welsh, Professor of Divinity, and Church Histoiy, Samuel Martin, Minister at Bathgate. J ohn Laing, Minister at Livingstone. James Proudfoot, Minister at Culter. Walter Paterson, Minister at Kirkurd. Thomas Pitcairn, Minister at Cockpen. Robert Cowet, Minister at Heriot. Selby Ord Dods, Minister at Garvald. Arch. Lorimer, Minister at Cockenzie. John Ainslie, Minister at Dirleton. John W. Wright, Minister at Haddington. James Dodds, Minister at Humbie. Andrew Baird, Minister at Cockburnspatk. Adam Forman, Minister at Innerwick. Archd. M‘Conechy, Minister at Bunkle and Preston. John Baillie, Minister at Fogo. John Fairbairn, Minister at West Church, Greenlaw. John Turnbull, Minister at Eyemouth. Horatius Bonar, Minister at Kelso. Walter Wood, Minister at Westruther. John Edmonston. Minister at Ashkirk. William Brown Clark, Minister at Half Morton. John R. MacKenzie, Minister at Dumfries. Robt. Biydon, Minister at Dunscore. Rob. Kinnear, Minister at Torthorwald. Thomas Hastings, Minister at Wanlockhead. A. Urquhart, Minister at Portpatrick. Rob. J effrey, Minister at Girthon. E. B. Wallace, Minister at Barr. Andrew Thomson, Minister at Maybole. Matthew Kirkland, Minister at New Cumnock. William Grant, Minister at Wallacetown. David Landsborough, Minister at Steveuston. David Arthur, Minister at Stewarton. Matthew Dickie, Minister at Dunlop. Peter Campbell, Minister at Kilmarnock. J ohn Macnaughtan, Minister at Paisley. Alexr. Salmon, Minister at Barrhead. are now vacant ; and the said parties consent that the said benefices shall he dealt with as such. And they authorise the Rev. Thomas Pitcairn and the Rev. Patrick Clason, con- j junct Clerks to this their General Assembly, to subscribe the j j joinings of the several sheets hereof, and they consent to the j ! registration hereof in the Books of Council and Session, or ; others competent, therein to remain for preservation ; and for i that purpose constitute their procurators, &c. In testimony whereof, these presents, written upon stamped paper by William Petrie Couper, clerk to James Crawford, junior, writer to the Signet, are, with a duplicate thereof, subscribed by the whole parties in General Meeting assembled, and the joinings of the several sheets, by the saids Rev. Thomas Pitcairn and Rev. Patrick Clason, as authorised as aforesaid, — all at Edinburgh, the twenty-third day of May, one thousand eight hundred and forty-three years, before these witnesses, — Mr John Hamilton, advocate ; William Fraser, j writer to the Signet; John Hunter, junior, writer to the [ Signet; and the Rev. John Jaffray, preacher of the Gospel, and secretary to the Provisional Committee, Edinburgh. THOMAS CHALMERS, Moderator. J. Hamilton, Witness. Wm. Fraser, Witness. John Hunter, Jun. Witness. John Jaffray, Witness. William Nisbet, Minister at Edinburgh. Patrick Clason, Minister at Edinburgh. Alexander W. Brown, Minister at Edinburgh. Robert Elder, Minister at Edinburgh. Henry Grey, Minister at Edinburgh. Robert Gordon, Minister at Edinburgh. James Noble, Minister at Edinburgh. Alexander Gregory, Minister at Edinburgh. Thomas Guthrie, Minister at Edinburgh. Chas. W. Brown, Minister at Edinburgh. Wm. Cunningham, Minister at Edinburgh. J ames Lewis, Minister at Leith. James Fairbairn, Minister at Newhaven. AValter Fairlie, Minister at Gilmerton. Lewis H. Irving, Minister at Abercom. Thomas Gordon, Minister at Falkirk. William M. Hetherington, Minister at Torphichen. William Hanna, Minister at Skirling. George Burns, Minister at Tweedsmuir. David Brown, Minister at Roslin. James Bannerman, Minister at Ormiston. Angus Mackellar, Minister at Pencaitland. Patrick Fairbairn, Minister at Salton. W. Bruce Cunningham, Minister at Prestonpans. John Thomson, Minister at Yester. AVilliam Sorley, Minister at Belhaven. John Thomson, Minister at Prestonkirk. David Thorburn, Minister at South Leith. John Wallace, Minister at Abbey St Bathans. William Cousin, Minister at Boston Church, Dunse. George Fulton Knight, Minister at Mordington. George Craig, Minister at Sprouston. John Purves, Minister at Jedburgh. Thomas Jolly, Minister at Bowden. Henry Duncan, Minister at Ruthwell. George Hastie, Minister at Kirkpatrick Fleming. Rob. Crawford, Minister at Irongray. George J. Duncan, Minister at Kirkpatrick Durham. Patrick Borrowman, Minister at Glencairn. Thomas B. Bell, Minister at Leswalt. Alexr. Forrester, Minister at Sorbie. Thomas Burns, Minister at Monkton. Ninian Bannatyne, Minister at Old Cumnock. James Stevenson, Minister at Newton upon Ayr. John Spiers, Minister at Patna, Ayr. George Orr, Minister at Symington. Thomas Finlay, Minister at AVest Kilbride. Thomas Main, Minister at Kilmarnock. Neil Brodie, Minister at Kilmarnock. John Hamilton, Minister at Saltcoats. Duncan Macfarlane, Minister at Renfrew. Robert Smith, Minister at Lochwinnoch. Peter Henderson, Minister at Paisley. Patrick M‘Farlan, Minister at Greenock. Jn. Js. Bonar, Minister at Greenock. Janies Stark, Minister at Greenock. James Drummond, Minister at Cumbray. John Dow, Minister at Largs. Wm. Laughton, Minister at Greenock. James Anderson, Minister at Blantyre. Alexander Rankin, Minister at Strathaven. James Finlay, Minister at Airdrie. Thomas Stark, Minister at Lanark. John Pollock, Minister at Baldernock. Andrew King, Minister at Glasgow. Thomas Duncan, Minister at Kirkintilloch. Walter M‘Gilvray, Minister at Glasgow. John Smyth, Minister at Glasgow. Robert Buchanan, Minister at Glasgow. John Forbes, Minister at Glasgow. James Henderson, Minister at Glasgow. Alexander N . Somerville, Minister at Anderston, Glasgow. Wm. Burns, Minister at Kilsyth. Peter Currie, Minister at Glasgow. John Lyon, Minister at Banton, Kilsyth. Michl. Willis, Minister at Glasgow. J ames Mackinlay, Minister at Glasgow. James Munro, Minister at West Rutherglen. William Chalmers, Minister at Dailly. James Mackenzie, Minister at Dalbeattie. Alexander MacBride, Minister at North Bute. H. Mackay, Minister at Dunoon and Kilmun. James Pearson, Minister at Kilmenny. Wm. Fraser, Minister at Killchrenan and Dalavich. John Waddell, Minister at Burrelton. Francis Gillies, Minister at Rattray. William Grant, Minister at Finandry. John W. Thomson, Minister at Moneydie. John Young Walker, Minister at Perth. John Milne, Minister at Perth. James Thomson, Minister at Muckart. J. R. Omond, Minister at Monzie. John Wright, Minister at Alloa. John Bonar, Minister at Tarbert and Dunipace. Wm. Stewart, Minister at Perth. James M‘Lagan, Minister at Kinfauns. William Watt, Minister at Buchlyvie. David Black, Minister at Gartmore. William Gilston, Minister at Carnock. Wm. Wallace Duncan, Minister at Cleish. Alex. Laird, Minister, at Abbotshall. Charles Jameson, Minister at Pathhead. James Sieveright, Minister at Markinch. And. Melville, Minister at Logie. Angus M. M‘Gillivray, Minister at Dairsie. William Nicolson, Minister at Ferry Port on Craig. David White, Minister at Airlie. D. Ferguson, Minister at Dunnichen. D. B. Mellis, Minister at Tealing. William Reid, Minister at Dundee. Robert Aitken, Minister at Dundee Patrick L. Miller, Minister at Dundee. William Wilson, Minister at Carmylie. Alexr. Leslie, Minister at Arbroath. John Laird, Minister at Inverkeilor. James Brodie, Minister at Monimail. Thomas Dymock, Minister at Carnous tie. Thomas Brown, Minister at Kinneff. Robert Forbes, Minister at Woodside. Alexander Davidson, Minister at Aberdeen. Robert Thomson, Minister at Peterculter. James Stewart, Minister at Aberdeen. William Anderson, Minister at Banchory Ternan. James M‘Gowan, Minister at Bankhead. Farquhar M‘Rae, Minister at Braemar James Yuill, Minister at Peterhead. Geo. Garioch, Minister at Meldrum. David Simson, Minister at Oyne. George Innes, Minister at Deskford. James Foote, Minister at Aberdeen. Robert Shanks, Minister at Buckie. A. Tulloch, Minister at Kirkmichael. Mark Aitken, Minister at Dyke. Alexander Gentle, Minister at Alves. John Campbell, Minister at Paisley. James Smith, Minister at Greenock. Donald MacLeod, Minister at Gourock. John Gemmel, Minister at Fairlie. Angus M‘Bean, Minister at Greenock. Robert Walter Stewart, Minister at Erskine. Jas. Morison, Minister at Port-Glasgow. James Clason, Minister at Dalziel. David Paton, Minister at Chapelton. Robert Stirrat, Minister at Airdrie. A. B. Parker, Minister at Lesmahagow. James Smith, Minister at Dumbarton. James Gibson, Minister at Glasgow. John Cochrane, Minister at Cumbernauld. John Thomson, Minister at Shettleston. James Macbeth, Minister at Glasgow. Thos. Brown, Minister at Glasgow. W illiam Arnot, Minister at Glasgow. John G. Lorimer, Minister at Glasgow. Jon. R. Anderson, Minister at Glasgow. David Menzies, Minister at Glasgow. Alex. S. Patterson, Minister at Glasgow. Nathl. Paterson, Minister at Glasgow. Alexr. Wilson, Minister at Glasgow. Hugh Mackay, Minister at Glasgow. W. S. Hay, Minister at Bridge of Weir. John Mackenzie, Minister at Dunkeld. Peter M‘Bride, Minister at New Parish, Rothsay. Hector M‘Neil, Minister at Campbeltown. Alexander Cameron, Minister at Kilchoman. Hugh Fraser, Minister at Ardchattan. Michael Stirling, Minister at Cargill. Andrew Kessen, Minister at Lethendy and Kinloch. George Millar, Minister at Clunie, Dunkeld. James Grierson, Minister at Errol. James Drummond, Minister at Forgandenny. Andrew A. Bonar, Minister at Collace. Alexr. Gumming, Minister at Dunbarny. Finlay Macalister, Minister at Crieff. Alex. Beitli, Minister at Stirling. J ohn Dempster, Minister at Denny. William Mackray, Minister at Stirling. Alexander Leitch, Minister at Stirling. James Duncan, Minister at East Kincardine. Thomas Hislop, Minister at Doune. James Thornton, Minister at Milnathort. Charles Marshall, Minister at No. Church, Dunfermline. David Couper, Minister at Burntisland. John Thomson, Minister at Dysart. Robert M‘Indoe, Minister at Kirkaldy. John Isdale, Minister at Invertiel. Adam Cairns, Minister at Cupar-Fife. George Smeaton, Minister at Falkland. William Ferrie, Minister at Anstruther Easter. Will. Clugston, Minister at Forfar. Daniel Cormick, Minister at Kirriemuir. J ames Ewing, Minister at Dundee. Samuel Miller, Minister at Monifeith. James Miller, Minister at Monikie, William Nixon, Minister at Montrose. James Lumsden, Minister at Barry. Robert Inglis, Minister at Edzell. Tho. Wilson, Minister at Friockheim. John Murray, Minister at Dunbog. John Montgomery, Minister at Arbroath. J ohn Roxburgh, Minister at Dundee. James Bruce, Minister at Gilcomston. Alex. Spence, Minister at St Clements, Aberdeen. George Moir, Minister at New Machar. William Primrose, Minister at Aberdeen. David Scott Ferguson, Minister at Strachan. Donald Stewart, Minister at Glengairn. Alexander Philip, Minister at Cruden. R. Simpson, Minister at Kintore. Henry Simson, Minister at Chapel of Garioch. William Garden Blackie, Minister at Drumblade. Fran. Grant, Minister at Banff. Alex. Andersen, Minister at Boindie. David Dewar, Minister at Bellie Duncan Grant. Minister at Forres. Alexander Topp, Minister at Elgin. William Barclay, Minister at Auldearn. 730 APPENDIX. Archd. Cook, Minister at Inverness. John MacRae, Minister at Knockbain. George M‘Leod, Minister at Maryburgh. Alexander Anderson, Minister at Keanlochluichart. Hugh M l Leod, Minister at Logie Easter. Donald Gordon, Minister at Edderton. Charles Calder Mackintosh, Minister at Tain. Cha. Gordon, Minister at Assynt. Peter Davidson, Minister at Stoer. David Mackenzie, Minister at Farr. William Mackenzie, Minister at Tongue. W. Ross Taylor, Minister at Thurso. George Davidson, Minister at Latheron. Thomas Gun, Minister at Keiss. Don. M‘Rae, Minister at Poolewe. John M‘Millan, Minister at Balcullish. William Lauder, Minister at Glengarry. Rodk. M'Leod, Minister at Snizort, Skye. John Swanson, Minister at Small Isles. John Finlayson, Minister at Cross Lewis. Robert Finlayson, Minister at Lochs. Peter Petrie, Minister at Kirkwall and St Ola. "Wm. Malcolm, Minister at Firth and Stenness. Alexander Stark, Minister at Sandwich, Zetland. John Elder, Minister at Walls, Shetland. William P. Falconer, Minister at Ladhope. Wm. Buchan. Minister at Hamilton. William Jackson, Minister at Airdrie. John Anderson, Minister at Helensburgh. Duncan Maclean, Minister at Kilmedan. Finlay Macpherson, Minister at Kilbrandon. Archd. Bannatyne, Minister at Oban. Charles C. Stewart, Minister at Aberdalgie. AV. A. Thomson, Minister at Perth. John Harper, Minister at Bannockburn. James Carment, Minister at Comrie. Thomas Doig, Minister at Torryburn. Jn. Macfarlane, Minister at Collesie. Robert Brown. Minister at Largo. Geo. Lewis, Minister at Dundee. John Kirk, Minister at Arbirlot. James Brewster, Minister at Craig. James Falconer, Minister at Paisley. David Simpson, Minister at Aberdeen. William Mitchell, Minister at Aberdeen. Abercromby L. Gordon, Minister at Aberdeen. Hugh Gordon, Minister at Monquliitter. Alexr. Reid, Minister at Portsoy. David Campbell, Minister at Tarbet. John Robertson, Minister at Gartly. Geo. Shepherd, Minister at Kingussie. Alexr. Flyter, Minister at Alness. J. M‘Kenzie, Minister at Carnoch. Thos. M‘Lauchlan, Minister at Moy. Colin McKenzie, Minister at Shieldag. George Mackay, Minister at Rafford Andrew Noble, Minister at Blairingone. R. J. Brown, Minister at Aberdeen. T. Somerville, D.D. Minister at Drumelzier. John Matthison, Minister at Ardersier. Donald Kennedy, Minister at Killearnan. John McDonald, Minister at Urquhart. John Macalister, Minister at Nigg, Ross-shire. C. R. Mattheson, Minister at Kilmuir Easter. Hector Allan, Minister at Kincardine, Ross-shire. Gustavus Aird, Minister at Creich. George R. Kennedy, Minister at Dornoch. Geo. Tulloch, Minister at Eddrachilles. H. M. K. Mackenzie, Minister at Tongue. Wm. Findlater, Minister at Durness. Finlay Cook, Minister at Reay. John Munro, Minister at Halkirk. Samuel Campbell, Minister at Berridale. George Corbett, Minister at Glenelg. Thomas Davidson, Minister at Kilmallie. Cha. Stewart, Minister at Fort- William. John R. Glass, Minister at Bracadale. Norm. M‘Leod, Minister at Trumisgarry. Duncan Mattheson, Minister at Knock Lewis. Adam Rettie, Minister at Evie and Rendalt. Peter Learmouth, Minister at Stromness. Adam White, Minister at North Ronaldsay. James Gardener, Minister at Quarff. John Ingram, Minister at Unst. J. A. Wallace, Minister at Hawick. William Logan, Minister at Lesmahagow. John M'Pherson, Minister at Rothesay. Joseph Stark, Minister at Kilfinan. Robert Craig, Minister at Rothesay. John Glen, Minister at Portobello. Donald M’Yean, Minister at Iona. Wm. Mather, Minister at Stanley. Andrew Gray, Minister at Perth. George Cupples, Minister at Stirling. W. Mackenzie, Minister at Dunblane. John Alexander, Minister at Kirkaldy. Charles Nairn, Minister at Forgan. Robert Macdonald, Minister at Blairgowrie. Alex. L. R. Foote, Minister at Brechin. David Crichton, Minister at Inverbrothoc, Arbroath. Alex. Keith, Minister at St Cyrus. Alex. Keith, jun. Minister at St Cyrus. John Murray, Minister at Aberdeen. John Longmuir, Minister at Aberdeen. Joseph Thorburn, Minister at Forglen. David Brown, Minister at Ord. Alex. Stewart, Minister at Cromarty. James Macdonald, Minister at Urray. David Hany, Minister at Aberchirder. W illiam Robertson, Minister at Kinloss. Alexander Fraser, Minister at Kirkhill. Mungo J. Parker, Minister at Brechin. David Sutherland, Minister at Inverness. James M‘Cosh, Minister at Brechin. A. Sutherland, Minister at Dunfermline. Alexr. Macpherson, Minister at Dundee. Charles Watson, Minister at Edinburgh. John Duncan, Minister at Ceres. No. XIX. Abridged Proceedings of the First General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland , convened in the Canonmills Hall, on Thursday 18^/i May , 1843, immediately after the Protest (see p. 725,) had been read by Dr Welsh , and on the secession of those who adhered to it. Dr Welsh, having taken the chair, opened the proceedings by a very suitable and solemnizing prayer ; after which, Dr Chalmers, having been elected Moderator, gave out the 63d Psalm, from the third verse, which the whole Assembly sung standing. The Moderator then addressed the Assembly as follows : —Reverend Fathers and Brethren — It has been proposed that the business of this Assembly shall be commenced by an address, which I shall make as brief as possible, from him whom you have honoured by investing with this important station, which I now hold. At the termination of the few remarks which I shall deliver, I shall request that the docu- ment which many of you heard read in another place, may be again read for the benefit of all present, — I mean the Pro- test which was read in the hearing of the Assembly of the Established Church, and which will form the basis, both of this day’s movement, and of the other courses of procedure which now lie before us. I should like, before I begin the form of a special address to my fathers and brethren now present, to occupy about the fifth part of the time that will be occupied by reading the Address, in order that you may have an outset, as it were, of the principles which we have adopted in our proceedings of this day. The time has now gone by for lengthened argumentation, either on the one side or the other, of the Church question. That is over ; and it is now followed by a busy season of doings more than of sayings, which leave room for little else than a few brief sentences expressive of the grounds on which we act, — not of the reasons by which these actions might be vindicated. 1. It is clear that, anterior to her connexion with the State, the Church had a government of her own, acting in her own proper sphere, with certain inherent liberties which, save by reason of persecution, were not violated. 2. That when the Church entered into con- nexion with the State, she gave up no part of her liberties ; it was her inalienable birthright, with which she would not part. The Church willingly gave her service, but her liberties were not hers to give ; it was not only her privilege, but her bounden duty to hold them fast. 3. The ancestors of the Church of Scotland, true to their principles, did not give up their Christian liberty when they entered into con- nexion with the State. They maintained these in circum- stances of controversy, and of cruel persecution, for a whole century. They were bound to the sacred cause by a gener- ous devotion ; and so they kept alive, in the worst of times, their liberties and privileges, till the treaty of the Revolution Settlement, when what the Church deemed her charter was consented to by the State, as her constitutional liberties. 4. That a free and separate government in things ecclesiastical was guaranteed to the Church, which has subsisted for nearly a century and a half without molestation on the part of the civil courts ; nor during the whole of that period, till within these last few years, did she suffer any inroad or violence at their hands ; so that it may be averred, with all safety, that there was not a man who even once dreamed of such con- cussions as have recently been practised, as in the least degree likely, or even possible. 5. That the first breach which has been effected in the rightful privileges of the Church, has been founded on an interpretation of the Act of Queen Anne, passed in the year 1712, anent the restoration of patronage, by which interpretation the discovery has been elicited for the first time, — for a discovery it may well be termed by all the parties in this controversy, — of a contrariety or conflict which was never before suspected to exist between that statute of Queen Anne, and those prior statutes which were enacted or confirmed by the Revolution Settlement ; and though these were never referred to by the law Lords in their last adverse decision by the House of Peers, in the case of Auchterarder, they were regarded and appealed to by the Assembly in the Claim of Rights, as forming the charter of the constitutional liberties of the Church of Scotland. 6. In these circumstances the Church appealed to Parliament, rest- ing her ground on the hitherto unviolated construction of the law ; and pointing to the latent discrepancy that had now been evolved, for the first time, between the posterior act of the Legislature and those prior deeds which were guaranteed at the Revolution, and by the Treaty of Union between the two kingdoms. 7. And lastly, to conclude this brief synopsis of a subject, which is much better treated and more expanded in the document which you are about to hear, our application was rejected, and the Legislature declined to remedy the evil which had hitherto lain dormant, and unobserved, during 130 years. We now make a higher appeal, from our constitution which has been disregarded, to our conscience, which tells us that the ecclesiastical ought not to be subjected to the civil power in things spiritual. We are therefore compelled, though with great reluctance and deep sorrow of heart, to quit the advantages of the British Establishment, because she has fallen from her original principles, in the hope that we shall be suffered to prosecute our labours in peace on the ground of British toleration. These are the principles that have occasioned the movements of this day, and brought us together on the present occasion. And now, reverend fathers and brethren, it is well that you should have been strengthened by your Master in Heaven to make the sur- render you have done of every thing that is dear to nature ; — casting aside all your earthly dependence rather than offend conscience, incur the guilt of sinful compliance by thwarting your own sense of duty, and running counter to the Bible, our Great Church Directory and Statute Book. It is well that you have made, for the present, a clean escape from this con- demnation — and that in the issue of the contest between a sacrifice of principle, and a sacrifice of your worldly posses- sions, you have resolved upon the latter ; and while to the eye of sense you are without a provision and a home, em- barked on a wide ocean of uncertainty, save that great and generous certainty which is apprehended by the eye of faith, that God reigneth, and that he will not forsake the families of the faithful. We read in the Scriptures, — and I believe it will be often found true in the history and experience of God’s people, — that there is a certain light, and joyfulness, and elevation of spirit, consequent upon a moral achievement such as this. There is a certain felt triumph, like that of victory after a conflict, attending upon a practical vindication which conscience has made of her own supremacy, when she has been plied by many and strong temptations to degrade or to dethrone her. Apart from Christianity altogether, there has been realized a joyfulness of heart, a proud swelling of conscious integrity, when a conquest has been effected by the higher over the inferior powers of our nature ; and so among Christians too there is a legitimate glorying, as when the disciples of old gloried in the midst of their tribulations, and when the Spirit of glory and of God rested on them, they were made partakers of the Divine nature, and escaped the corruption that is in the world ; or as when the Apostle Paul rejoiced in the testimony of his conscience. But let us not forget in the midst of this rejoicing the deep humility that pervaded their songs of exultation ; the trembling which these holy men mixed with their mirth ; trembling arising from a sense of their own weakness ; and their courage in- spired by the thought of that aid and strength which was to be obtained out of His fulness, who formed all their boasting and all their defence. Never in the history of our Church were such feelings and such acknowledgments more called for than now ; and in the transition we are making, it be- comes us to reflect on such sentiments as these,— “ not me, but the grace of God in me,” — and “ let him that tliinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.” By giving up your connexion with the State, and thus separating yourselves from the worldly advantage of such a connexion, you may be said to have withstood a great temp- tation — temptation to sin in one form ; but such is the deceit- fulness of the human heart, that, without the heedfulhess and the humility which the apostles of old so pressed upon the early converts, there is danger of being carried away by temptation in another form, and temptation too to the very same sin. Rather than be seduced from one of your greatest principles, you have given up one earthly dependence ; but let principle have its perfect work, and have a care lest you be tempted from even the least of your principles by the promises or the allurements of another earthly dependence. Rather than compromise the authority of Christ over the affairs of his own Church, you have forfeited the countenance of men in power — that is, who have the power of this world’s authority on their side. Beware of compromising another j 732 APPENDIX. of your doctrines or articles of faith— and in the defence of which the Church of Scotland did lately signalize herself, even the authority of Christ over the kings and governments of earth, and the counterpart duty of these governments to uphold religion in the world, — beware, we say, of making any co'mpromise or surrender of this your other principle, — and this, too, to gain the countenance of those who may still be called men in power — that is, who, if they have not the power of authority and office, have at least the power of numbers on their side. This may be termed a less principle than the other — of inferior consideration in itself, and inferior conse- quence to the vital or spiritual well-being of Christ’s Church upon earth. But let us not forget what the Bible says of those who break even the least of the commandments, that they shall be called the least in the kingdom of Heaven. The men who stand opposed to us on this second, or, as many choose to term it, this secondary question, might, with all the “ hay; and stubble, and wood” of this, and, it may be, of other errors, be reposing on the like precious foundation with ourselves. They might be men with whom we differ, and yet with whom we can agree to differ. They might be coadjutors in the great work of evangelizing the people of our land — brethren with whom we can hold sweet and profitable counsel on the capita julei, or weightier matters of the law ; having “ one faith, and one Lord, and one baptism.” But we shall not even for their friendship, violate the entireness of our principles, or make surrender of the very least of them. It is not for those ministers of Christ, whom I am now address- ing, and who on the altar of principle have just laid down their all — thus quitting, and for the sake of one principle, the friend- ship of men who have the power of office ; it is not for them to give up another principle for the sake of the friendship of other men who may be also said to have power — the power of numbers. W e must not thus transfer ourselves from one earthly dependence to another. We have no other depen- dence than God. We acknowledge the authority, and will 1 submit to the influence of no other guide than the eternal and unalterable truth, as seen in the light of our own con- | sciences. To be more plain, let me be more particular. The Volun- taries mistake us, if they conceive us to be Voluntaries. We hold by the duty of Government to give of their resources and their means for the maintenance of a gospel ministry in the land ; and we pray that their eyes may be opened, so that they may learn how to acquit themselves as the protec- tors of the Church, and not as its corruptors or its tyrants. W e pray that the sin of Uzziah, into which they have fallen, may be forgiven them, and that those days of light and blessedness may speedily arrive, when “ kings shall be the nursing-fathers, and queens the nursing-mothers” of our Zion. In a word, we hold that every paid; and every function of a commonwealth should be leavened with Christianity, and that every functionary, from the highest to the lowest, should, in their respective spheres, do all that in them lies to countenance and uphold it ; that is to say, though we quit the Establishment, we go out on the Establishment principle — we quit a vitiated Establishment, but would rejoice in returning to a pure one. To express it otherwise — we are the advocates for a national recognition and national support of religion — and we are not Voluntaries. Again, if we thus openly proclaim our differences with men who, under the guise of principle — and of this .principle we question not the honesty — refuse in the affairs of the Church to have any participation with the Government — still more resolutely do we disclaim all fellowship with men who, under the guise of direct and declared opposition, lift a menacing front against “ the powers that be ;” or, disdaining govern- ment, and impatient of restraint, manifest a spirit of conten- tion aud defiance. If we refuse to coalesce with one — and that a powerful body — on the question of ecclesiastical polity, still less would we seek to strengthen ourselves by amalga- mating with another body of contentious and violent worldly politicians ; and, least of all, with men whose element is con- fusion, and who delight in the wild war of turbulence and disorder. . It may seem strange that I should deem it neces- sary to raise this warning in the hearing of Christian ministers and friends, calling upon them to repudiate lawless and re- volutionary men — men who speak evil of dignities, and who are given to change ; but it is because you have been so much misrepresented and misunderstood. I know well that it is not necessary to warn you, but it is necessary to bear this testimony in the hearing of the world; for many there ; be who mistake and misconceive you, even as the apostles of old were charged with attempting to turn the world upside 1 down. There can be no common understanding ; for there is | no common object between you and the lovers of mischief. The lessons which you inculcate are all on the side of peace and social order. You will not strengthen your enemies — the high aristocracy of the land — by walking in concert with men who are intent upon anarchy, and who seek the destruc- tion of one institute as a means for destroying all the revered institutes of the land. You have no sympathy with such men, and you can hold no copartnery with them ; but in the high walk of Christian principle, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left, you will keep the even tenor of your way. Why do I find you in this place ? Because you have chosen to obey God rather than man — God, who is the author not of confusion but of order, both in the Church and in society. If your enemies will but have the wisdom to let you alone, and the mists of prejudice and misconception were but once cleared away, they will recognise in you the best conservators of peace and social order in the commonwealth. Now that the breakwater has been removed — and removed by those more immediately interested in keeping it up — in the disruption of the Established Church, which was strong in the affections, and firmly based in the confidence of the 1 people, you at least, the expounders and the heralds of the gospel, will do nothing to aggravate, but everything to stay the effect of those evils ; and if on the flag of your truly free and constitutional Church you are willing to inscribe that you are no Voluntaries, then still more there will be an utter absence of sympathy on your part with the demagogue and agitator of the day — so that in golden characters may be seen and read of all men this other inscription, that you are no anarchists. So much for your relations to those that are without. Let us turn now to those that are within — to our people, and to those who adhere to the principles for which we contend in the Free Presbyterian Church, which we this day in- stitute in these lands. We know the taunts of those who speak reproachfully, that though the word, “Free,” is em- blazoned on the title of our Church, we shall find it an empty name — that instead of being subject to the restraints 1 of lawful authority, we shall have the more galling and more ! intolerable tyranny of a multitude — as if there was no pos- j sible way of holding steadfast truth and principle in opposi- tion to both — as if there was no possibility of being guided by Scripture and common sense to refuse all sinful, and, let me add, senseless compliances with either. None will deny that the first teachers of Christianity cleared their way in- dependently on all hands. They had, indeed, the voice of inspiration ; and why may not we do the same, who walk by no light, and submit to no authority in spiritual things, but the light and authority of that enduring book, the Bible — the common statute-book for both ministers and people. Certain it is that the apostles, who said they would obey God rather than man, carried this principle into effect whether the men were many or few ; and so at one time we find them in favour with all the people, become in many in- stances the objects of popular dislike and violence. Many i alternative fits and fluctuations did they weather ; now borne | along by a smooth and a prosperous flood, and at another | time buffeting the severest adversity of the elements. We j must not be carried away by an overweening imagination that we are to be exempted from their trials, or that we can face their difficulties better than they did. The disciple is not above his Master ; nor must we think that a strange thing has happened unto us, should we be cast upon a new evolu- tion of the principle of opposition ; for the world that hated Him must hate us also. There has been no repeal yet, so far as we know, of what may be called the standing law of Christ’s house, that “all who will live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution and now when, in the lights offered by Providence and prophecy, many are looking to the setting up of a purer Church on the earth, let us not forget that apos- tolic suffering went along with the planting of apostolic j churches, and the diffusion of Christianity in apostolic times. Let us arm ourselves with the same mind ; and, fresh from the sacrifice we have already made, rather than surrender the powers of our office, let us be prepared to make like sacri- fices in other quarters — the loss of popularity and good will. j But let us persevere in administering the affairs of the Church without fear and without flattery — not fearing men, | [ but God. The reverend Doctor then referred to various 1 passages in the New Testament, illustrative of the authority- exercised by the apostles, and concluded an impassioned address, by imploring all present, both ministers and people, to be much in prayer for God’s blessing upon their under- taking. Mr Pitcairn read the Protest which had been laid on the table of the other Assembly, with the names thereto Dr Candlish said the number who had signed that Pro- test were a majority of those whom they could recognise as the alone lawful members of Assembly ; and he had to pro- pose, that the Protest should lie open for signature by other members, and that their signatures should be held ipso facto as admitting them members of this Assembly. But in addi- tion to this Protest, a concurrence in it had been signed by those who were not members of Assembly ; and he had now to propose, that the Assembly should now assume into their body, as members of the House, all the ministers who had signed that concurrence, together with one elder from every adhering kirk-session. Friday, May 19. The Irish, Deputation. The Free Assembly met for the purpose of engaging in devotional exercises, and receiving the deputation from the Irish Church. The hall was densely crowded. The proceedings were commenced with praise, a part of the 122d JPsalm being sung standing ; after which there was read the 55th chapter of Isaiah. Dr Chalmers then offered up a deeply impressive prayer. Each sederunt was commenced with praise and prayer, and reading of the Scriptures, and closed with praise and prayer. The Clark having read a commission from the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, in favour of the Rev. Messrs Denham, M‘Clure, Professor Killen, and H. J. Dobbin; with James Ferryer, Esq., D. J. Macrory, Esq., and William Haslit, Esq,, Lord Mayor of London- derry, elders, as a deputation to attend the next General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, — after Mr Denham of Derry and Professor Killen had spoken in terms of high gratulation, the Rev. William M‘Clure, minister of London- derry, said, — I rise. Moderator, to express my full concur- rence in the sentiments expressed by my brethren who have preceded me. We have been deputed by the Assembly of the Irish Presbyterian Church to attend the Assembly of the Church of Scotland. Our first business, on landing on these shores, has been to institute a search after the Church of Scotland. There are certain features by which she has been distinguished, and certain principles she has held, that have guided us in this search. We had no difficulty in as- certaining what these were in former times. We turn to the Books of Discipline, and find the consent of the people declared to be absolutely necessary for the formation of the pastoral tie. We come to the Second Reformation, and find this principle imbodied in the acts of the free and glorious Assembly of 1638. Coming down the stream of history, we see it again recognised at the Reformation, and standing forth as a prominent feature of the Reformed Church of Scotland. This is one mark to assist us in our inquiries ; and when we find, as we now do, this principle fully and clearly recognised in this Assembly, we see one feature, at least, to prove that you are the true descendants and repre- sentatives of the ancient Church of Scotland. We find it I also declared in the standards common to us both, that Christ is the alone King and Head of his Church, and that I within the sacred precincts of His house and kingdom no civil governor has a right to enter. We recognise this fea- ture of resemblance also in this Assembly to the ancient j Church of Scotland; — we see you loyal to your earthly sovereign, and attached to the constitution of these realms, and yet alive to the honour of Christ, your Lord and Master, and upholding, with unflinching steadfastness and many sac- rifices, His crown and authority. We find you also main- taining the principle, no less Scriptural than Presbyterian, of the official equality of those who are teachers in the Church. Under these circumstances, we have no doubt but we have made the desired discovery, — we rejoice to have succeeded in our search, and we tender our commis- sion to you as the Church of Scotland. It is true, that some of the usual adjuncts of an Assembly of the National Church are wanting here. We do not see the representative of earthly majesty, nor do we hear your meetings announced by the sound of martial music, or the tramp of military ; but these things we never thought essen- tial to the Church of Christ. We see, however, among you, that which is far more valuable, — the distinct recognition of Christ as King and Head of his Church ; and, therefore, we acknowledge you the Free Assembly of the Church of Scot- land. “ They are the freemen whom the truth makes free. And all are slaves besides.” After the laymen had delivered their sentiments, the Moderator, in concluding a brilliant address, said, — I have great pleasure, Gentlemen, in the prospect of hearing you again ; and I beg to convey to you the grateful acknowledg- ment of the Assembly for your valuable testimony, and your delightful expressions of sympathy, and the encouragement and countenance you have given us by your appearance among us this day. Evening Sederunt. The Assembly met at 7 o’clock, and the hall was soon filled to overflowing. After some preliminaries, the Moderator stated that the object of the present meeting of the Assembly was to state to the elders, deacons, probationers, and students of the Free Church, who had been invited to attend, the grounds on which the separation had been made from the Establishment. He took it for granted that many of them were present. He then called on Dr Buchanan of Glasgow, who, in dealing with the motion, viz., “ That the Assembly do now invite the concurrence of the elders, deacons, probationers, and students of divinity, who have been requested to be present at this meeting, in following out the separation from the Establishment,” animadverted very felicitously upon her Majesty’s Letter, which had just been read. He was followed by Dr Gordon, who, among other things, said, — Sir, it is a most miserable subterfuge I have heard pled, that we might have remained in the Established Church, and there retained intact our theoretical opinions, and that we might have there risen solemnly to protest as often as the civil courts actually interfered with ecclesiastical pro- cedure, and that in this way our consciences might have been satisfied. Yes, that subterfuge is one that I tremble to think of a Christian man allowing himself for a single mo- ment to entertain. Why, the very fact of our drawing our stipends after the declaration which the State has made, is on our part, a solemn promise, as honest men, to the State, that we never will make such a declaration, and is an ac- quiescence in the principle ; and a protest after that would be a dishonest, a hypocritical protest. There is no other alter- native. The conscience of every one of us has shut us out on both sides. On the one side, if we had remained in the Establishment, and held by our principles, to protest would have been dealing falsely and dishonestly with the State. We would have been taking the benefit on a totally different ground from that on which the State said it would give it. On the other hand, if we had remained in the Establishment, and submitted, we must have abandoned our allegiance to the great Head of the Church. This I feel to be my posi- tion, or rather felt it to be my position ; but, thank God, I breathe in a purer atmosphere than I have done for years back. — The deepest solemnity pervaded the Assembly dur- ing the delivery of Dr Gordon’s address. Dr Gardner was introduced to the Assembly, and read the following Memorial from the Probationers : — “ Deputed by nearly two hundred of our fellow-proba- tioners, we take the liberty, in their name, of expressing to you, Sir, and this venerable Assembly, our entire and cordial concurrence in those high and holy principles, in vindication of which you now deem it your solemn duty to renounce connexion with the Established Church of the land. Privileged as we have been to preach the gospel in connexion with that Church, and looking forward to per- manent employment as ordained ministers within its pale, we feel it undoubtedly a sacrifice ; but nevertheless, a sacri- fice which, at the bidding of our Lord, we cheerfully make, to cast away from us those prospects ; and now we resolve, in dependence on God’s grace, to dedicate ourselves to the service of our Divine Master, in connexion with a Free Church, unfettered and uncontrolled in its internal actings. “We beg, therefore, Sir, most respectfully, to assure you and the judicatories of the Free Presbyterian Church, that we shall recognise them as those to whom we owe obedience ■J APPENDIX. 734 in the Lord, and to their decisions it shall be our uniform anxiety implicitly to bow. “ Our simple desire is to serve God in the gospel of His Son ; and we feel, therefore, that, in a crisis so momentous, and in a state of affairs so unprecedented, it is incumbent upon us to assume that position, and occupy that station in the Lord’s vineyard, in which our fathers and brethren shall consider us each, according to the talents which God hath given him, best fitted to advance the cause of the Redeemer. “ In such a season as this, Sir, we feel, that individual partialities and predilections must be merged in the all-ab- ! sorbing desire, that in us, and by us, Christ may he glorified. | “Viewing you, therefore, Sir, and the Venerable Assem- t bly, as having displayed your banners in Christ’s name, and ' for Christ’s crown, we thus publicly avow our adherence to J the same great Scriptural principles which you have so nobly I and disinterestedly maintained. “We cast in our lot with yours, and we solemnly declare, in the presence of God and this Assembly, that henceforth your people shall be our people, and your God shall be our God.” “ In the name, and with the concurrence, of the meeting of the adhering Probationers, held at Edinburgh this day, 1 9th May , 1843. “James Gardner, Chairman .” Before submitting the following motion, it was stated by Dr Welsh, Sir D. Brewster, and Dr Candlish, that ninety- three students in the Edinburgh Hall had declared in favour of the Free Church; that amajority of the St Andrew’s students held the same views ; that nearly four-fifths of the divinity students in Glasgow were of the same mind, and that in Aberdeen there was also a majority in favour of the Free Church. Dr Candlish then submitted his motion : — That the Assembly thankfully acknowledge the Memorial now pre- sented, so honourable to the Probationers who have cast in their lot with the ministers and elders protesting against the Erastianism of the Establishment, under circumstances in which every motive but a love of thetruth, and devotion to the service of their Lord and Master, would have led them to adopt a different course : They recognise in it a token of good for the future prospects of the Church, and they trust that the Probationers, in reliance on God’s grace, will persevere in the path they have entered upon, which, though beset with difficulties, will lead to a field of usefulness in the vineyard of the Lord. Saturday, May 20. After the Assembly had met, the Marchioness of Bread- albane,and Lady Hannah Thorpe, accompanied by Mr Camp- j bell of Monzie, entered the Hall, and were loudly cheered, j The sederunt was chiefly occupied by Mr A. Dunlop reading the Report of the Building Section of the Provisional Com- j mittee ; Dr Candlish giving in the Report of the Statistical j Section of the Provisional Committee ; when Dr Chalmers I vacated the chair, which was taken by Dr Welsh, and delivered his Report on the Financial Section of the Pro- visional Committee. Dr M‘Donald of Urquhart then moved a vote of thanks to Dr Chalmers, and the other conveners of the sections of the Provisional Committee, for the admirable and eloquent Re- ports they had made to the Assembly, which was carried by acclamation. Dr Keith laid on the table the Report on the Jewish Mis- sions, to be taken up on a future occasion. Monday , May 22. The Assembly met to-day at twelve o’clock, in Dr Cand- j lish’s new church, Lothian Road. Dr Candlish delivered a verbal Report, on the part of the Committee appointed by the Commission in reference to the Bicentenary of the Westminster Assembly. . The Five Schemes. Mr Dunlop, in giving in the Report of the Five Schemes of the Church, stated that the amount collected last year in behalf of the India Mission, amounted to £4577 ; this year J it was £6909. There was collected last year for the Educa- ! tion Scheme £5684 ; this year there was a diminution of | £800, the amount collected being £4858. For the Home i Mission there was collected last year £5029 ; this year the sum amounted to £5337, showing a considerable increase. The sum collected in behalf of the Colonial Mission amounted last year to £4160, while this year the sum was £4268; this included £380 from the Ladies’ Association of Edin- burgh, who had shown great zeal in the cause. In the scheme for the conversion of the Jews, there was a diminu- tion of upwards of £300.— Now they felt themselves prepared to begin de novo ; but feeling that in that period they had increased so rapidly the sum contributed for these purposes, j and erected so many churches, and so widely extended their missionary operations, he could not for a single moment feel the least doubt or hesitation, that these Schemes would not only be continued, but that they would be carried on with renewed energy. The Moderator, addressing Mr Dunlop, said, — I am as sanguine as yourself that the Church’s Five Schemes will | be supported as liberally as ever ; and notwithstanding our altered circumstances, I will not let go my confidence that these Schemes will even be supported on a greater scale than we have realized, in past years. He concluded with an ex- | pression of his admiration of the high talent and principle which Mr Dunlop brought to the discharge of his various duties as Convener. The Assembly thereafter closed its public proceedings with praise and prayer, about two o’clock, till the evening. Evening Sederunt. Resolution anent Separation from the Establishment. Dr Macfarlan of Greenock gave in the Report of the Com- mittee appointed to consider the proper course for effecting and completing a separation from the Establishment, on the part of the protesting ministers and elders, and those who adhered to them. The report was as follows : — “ It is the opinion of the Committee, that this Assembly ought to pass a resolution declaring for itself, and all who shall adhere, their separation from the Establishment ; and | that an Act and Deed ought to be prepared, demitting the I status, rights, and privileges, held by them as ministers and j elders of the Establishment. In the event of this course being approved of by the General Assembly, it is recom- mended that this Committee be re-appointed, with power to prepare the draft of an Act to be submitted to this Assembly | at its meeting to-morrow forenoon, with a view to its being considered and subscribed by the members present at said meeting, and to report in what way it ought to be disposed of.” The Rev. Doctor then said, — The two great principles for which we have been contending are Non-intrusion and Spir- itual Jurisdiction. It was not enough that we had got a good non-intrusion measure, without at the same time having the spiritual jurisdiction of the Church secured ; for, without that, we could have had no power to make application of such a measure. I think I am prepared to show, that we could not have gone out sooner, and that we could not have remained longer than we did. I say, first of all, that we were not at liberty to go out one day sooner than we did, because we were placed in the Church, not merely for the purpose of discharging spiritual duty there, — although that is, no doubt, the princi- pal part of our work, — but we were also placed in the Church of Scotland as the guardians and defenders of the rights and the liberties of the people, and the guardians and defenders of the rights and liberties of the Church. The question now is, — and it is a question which must be discussed before the country and the world, — On whom does the blame of this disruption lie ? Does it lie at the door of the Church of Scotland ? I say it does not. I say j here, advisedly — not under the excitement of public speak- ! ing, but calmly and deliberately — that the guilt of this disrup- tion, I mean in the latter part of its history, lies with her Majesty’s Government, — with the men who now hold the helm of affairs. There is a perfect unison between the duty of the civil magistrate to protect and encourage religion, and the Headship of Christ, and His appointing a government distinct from the civil magistrate. That is the true doctrine of our admirable Confession, and the doctrine which, I trust, we will always maintain, though now separated from the Establishment. He concluded by moving the following re- solution : — “ That the Assembly approve of the Report, following out the Claim, Declaration, and Protest, adopted by the General Assembly, which met at Edinburgh in May, 1842, and the Protest made on Thursday last at the meeting of the com- missioners chosen to the Assembly, appointed to have been APPENDIX. 735 that day holden ; and upon the ground therein set forth, do now, for themselves, and all who adhere to them, Separate from the Establishment, Protesting that, in doctrine, polity, and discipline, they truly represent the Church of their J fathers, whose testimony on behalf of the crown rights of their I Redeemer, as King of Zion, and Prince of the kings of the | earth, they firmly purpose, at all hazards, and at whatever I sacrifice, still to maintain ; and Protesting that henceforward j they are not, and shall not he, subject in any respect to the ecclesiastical judicatories presently established by law in I Scotland, but that they are, and shall be free to perform their j functions as pastors and elders towards their respective con- gregations, or such portion thereof as shall adhere to them, and to exercise government and discipline in their several judicatories, separate from the Establishment, according to the word of God, and agreeably to the true and original prin- ciples of the Church of Scotland, and to the standards thereof, as heretofore understood ; and that the Committee be re- appointed, with instructions to prepare the draft of an Act and Deed, to be adopted and subscribed at as early a period as possible during the subsequent sittings of this Assembly, Renouncing and Demitting the status, rights, and privileges, held by virtue of the Establishment ; the said draft to be reported to the Assembly at the forenoon sederunt to-mor- row.” Rev. Mr Beith of Stirling said, — The motion declares our separation from the Establishment. I rejoice, not merely that we are thus in sight of land, but just ready to step ashore from the troublous element on which we have been so long contend- ing, that we may engage with our might in the great and im- portant work to which, I believe, our Master, in this day, is calling us. With me there is no doubt, that to remain in the Establishment would be to be guilty of heinous sin against our own souls, against Christ, and against the Christian people of this land. What is the alternative to which we should be re- duced, were we to consent to remain ? Evidently this, that we must be parties to the sin of preventing the Christian people from obeying Christ in one of his special commands. His de- clared will is, that they should “ take heed what they hear,” I that is, whom they hear, — that they should not believe every spirit, but try the spirits whether they be of God, and for this reason, that “ many false prophets have come into the world.” But under the present state of the law of this country, the ministers of the Establishment must be parties in preventing the professed members of Christ’s Church doing the thing which He commands. And not only so, but should we remain in the Establishment, then, too, must we be par- ' ties to the sin of permitting another authority besides God ! to rule over the conscience. Let me remind you, Sir, of the mark of the “ Man of Sin.” Is it not this, that, as God, he | sits in the temple of God, exalting himself above all that is ' called God, — showing himself that he is God? Is it not this, that he assumes the place of God, lording it over the I conscience, and interfering with the prerogative of the Most j High ? It matters not to us, though the interfering party i be neither the pope nor the monarch. If the Civil Courts assume the same place, and come in between God and our consciences, for us to submit is to yield to the same influence, — it is still submitting to the “ Man of Sin.” This is the position in which we are placed; and it must be obvious that no alternative was left us, but either sinful submission, or quitting the Establishment. Had we adopted the former, then how could we have retained the name of servants of Christ, or presumed to do His work — proclaiming the glad tidings of salvation ? In all the things that have come upon us, it is our part to recognise and acknowledge the hand of our great Head, and to feel that we have by Him been shut up to our present position. Rev. Dr Cunningham said, — It is impossible not to feel that this controversy has borne plain traces of being a controversy for divine truth, carried on with the enmity of this world. This must be seen and felt by almost all who know what scriptural truth is. There can be no reasonable doubt that the Church has produced the enmity which has been raised against her, just because she began to feel that she was a Church of Christ, and was determined to act in that character. The Church, in | God’s good time, began to feel this ; and, in consequence, she has called forth the enmity of an ungodly world. The world had resolved to put down evangelical ascendancy in the Church of Scotland. They have determined to prevent her from taking the word of God as the sole rule of her conduct ; and they have attempted to bring her into a state of sub- serviency to human authority, mainly through the instrumen- tality of the law of patronage, by which a civil right was in- troduced into a spiritual matter. The right of patronage is bad enough, even when we contemplate its indirect influence, as involving a control over the temporalities. It was bad enough, even when limited, as it was by the civil courts in last century, to a control over the temporalities ; but now patronage is interpreted in such a way as that it has not only this influence over the temporalities, but that it forms the ground of direct jurisdiction and interference in the regula- tion of ecclesiastical questions, — that is to say, in the dis- posal of questions, whether men are to be ordained or not, and whether they are to be deposed or not. Patronage, I have said, under any circumstances, is bad enough ; but when it is interpreted in this way, it becomes utterly and thorough- ly intolerable, and a burden to which no Church of Christ can submit. This, then, is the position in which we are placed. We assume that the principles for which we con- tend are sound and good, and that they have been rejected by the civil authority, and, indeed, that it is difficult to do anything that can make more clear the grand truths we are contending for, and that we have now no alternative but to abandon our emoluments as ministers of the Established Church. This is a clear matter of principle, about which there is no room to doubt ; and perhaps there should be less of anxiety and lamentation on the one hand, and of boasting on the other, than we may be inclined sometimes to exhibit. We have been placed in circumstances in which God has been pleased to call us to the discharge of this duty, and we should endeavour to recognise the voice of God in the j matter, — on the one hand without any boasting, and on the J ! other without any anxiety, — and just take the course which I God has so plainly pointed out to us. God has not, by any j special supernatural communications, pointed out to us what ; i is the particular path of duty we are to follow, but he has 1 1 given us a light unto our feet and a lamp unto our path ; I and the course of duty He has made clear and plain to us j through His Word, and by the enlightening influence of His Spirit. We are bound to follow His precepts, and to main- tain His truths ; and in this way, viewed in connexion with the contests in which we have been engaged, the path of duty is clear before us,- the great Head of the Church is telling j us plainly and explicitly, that our duty in this matter is to I leave the Established Church and all its emoluments and [ privileges. He is telling us that, as plainly as he did when he said to the young man in the gospel, “ Go, sell all that thou hast, and take up thy cross and follow me.” And he is giving us the same encouragement He gave to him — “ and thou shalt have treasure in heaven.” As I have had little opportunity of late of referring to the grounds of our separation, I will very briefly refer to one or two points, just in the way of calling them to your recollec- tion. In the first place, then, let us think of who the parties are from whom we are now proposing to separate, and what j is their character and their position ? We propose to separ- i ate ourselves first of all from the State, or supreme civil j power in these lands. Without entering into any general I exposition of their character, just think what they have done in this matter ; for it is to that alone we would refer. They j have openly and deliberately declared their determination to J put down and trample on great scriptural principles. Now, i j this is a great and heinous sin of which they are guilty : they j j have held up to the scorn and contempt of the world, prin- j j ciples we can prove to be scriptural, as well as accordant j with our standards ; and the sin has been attended, in this j case, with much aggravation ; for they have done it in plain | violation of the fundamental principles of our constitution, I and the most solemn national engagements. They have done that — they have done all that. Our constitution has been thoroughly subverted; for, whatever men may say to the contrary, I contend, that it can be clearly established, that the decisions of the Courts of Law have been unconstitu- tional. This is a position which can be readily understood and explained. There is not one Judge on the Scottish Bench who would deny it. There may be one or two in the House of Lords ; but on the Scottish Bench, the position I have laid down would not be denied by one of them. They, of course, believe these decisions are warranted by the Act of Queen Anne, which they say imposed upon them an obligation to pronounce the decisions against us ; but I be- lieve that, strange as may be some of the statements we have had from the Bench, and strange as may be the acts per- 736 APPENDIX. formed there, there is not one Judge on that Bench who would deny that these decisions are based on principles opposed to what was secured to us in the Revolution Settle- ment. Therefore we are entitled to say, these decisions are unconstitutional, and amount to a subversion of the con- stitution of this kingdom. They have thus incurred a great responsibility ; and, without entering into a question of cas- uistry, whether or not it might be lawful to continue on i friendly terms with such a State, and receive favours from such a State, I think we will not hesitate to come to the conclusion that it is a more honourable and safe position for us to have nothing to do with them. There can be no doubt that the State or nation will be punished for what they have done ; and therefore it is a safer position to be separated from them. The Protesting Church, assembled i in this place, has not sinned in this matter, and therefore we may escape from any share in their plagues. But again, we are separating also from a party in the Church itself. I do not mean to dwell on this subject. It j is a delicate subject ; and it is not, perhaps, right in us to be enlarging on these topics. It is not for us to say how far the principles of these men — for I speak of their prin- ciples only — might have warranted us in taking a different course; but I will just say, that, looking at the general character of Moderatism, as it has existed in the Church of Scotland, I find here also that it is a much more safe and honourable position to have nothing to do with it. I do not mean to say that anything they have done would have warranted us in simply leaving them ; because, on scriptural principles, we should not have separated from them, but exercised ecclesiastical discipline upon them. This is a duty from which we might have shrunk ; and, therefore, I think that, while on scriptural grounds we have escaped that duty, we are safer away from them altogether. I would not have you to take this statement as made in reference to any particular individual ; but viewing Moderatism as a whole, I think we are entitled to say, that it has just been the very Babylon, the Assyria, and the Antichrist of the Church of Scotland, — the great adversary of Christ’s cause and Christ’s people in this land. The beast in 1834 received a deadly wound — that wound is about to be healed, — Moderate as- cendancy is about to be re-established in the Church of Scot- land. But we are assured of this, that if there be truth in God’s word, though the wound has been healed, and though Moderate ascendancy has been re-established, it is just that, in God’s good time, and in His own way, it may be visited with a more overwhelming destruction. We occupy a far more honourable position in not being connected with them, 1 though I do not mean to say that the circumstances to which I have referred would have led to our breaking off from the Establishment. Tuesday , May 23. Act of Separation. The Assembly met to-day in the Canonmills Hall, at one o’clock — when Mr Dunlop laid on the table of the Assembly, the draft of an Act of Separation from the Established Church, to be signed by the protesting ministers and elders, and all who adhere to them, demitting the status, rights, and privileges held by them as ministers and elders of the Established Church. See p. 727. The calling of the roll then began. Ten names of members were called over at one time, each answering to his name, and saying, “ Agree.” These proceeded to the platform | behind the Moderator’s chair, where they signed the docu- ment, and, when they had done so, returned to their seats again, giving room to other ten. The signing was proceeded with in this way until half-past four o’clock ; when, it not being nearly completed, the Assembly, after engaging in praise, adjourned till six, when it was to be resumed. Evening Sederunt. The Assembly met again at six o’clock, and after praise an l reading of the Scriptures and prayer, resumed the signing | of the Act of Separation, which continued till past eight I o’clock. . On the signing being completed, DrCandlish said, — The business of this day has been of a character, I think I may say, unprecedented, not merely in the history of the Church of Scotland, but I might also say in the history of the Church of Christ ; for I am not aware that ever, on .any former occasion in the history of the Church, there was an association of Christian ministers engaged in a business simi- | lar to that which we have this day been transacting, — that, with one heart, and at the same time individually, one by i one, we have deliberately signed over all that we have on j earth, — we have given over all our emoluments and advan- 1 tages as ministers of the Established Church, and that, as we 1 believe, for the sake of Christ’s crown and covenant, — we have signed a document which makes us in form, as well as reality, no longer ministers of the Established Church of Scotland. It is a solemn thing, whether we look back to that status which we have now finally and for ever abandoned, or forward to the course on which we are entering ; and I beg to propose that the document be read over, with the names attached to it, that we may know each other, and that our hearts may be knit together more closely in bonds of brotherly love, seeing that we have agreed to suffer personally for Christ’s Cause. — This being done, The Assembly proceeded to hear deputations from the London Lay Union, and the Synod of the Presbyterian Church in England. Wednesday , May 24. The Assembly met this day at one o’clock. After en- gaging in devotional exercises. Dr Keith of St Cyrus read the Report of the Committee on the Jewish Mission for last year, comprising Report of the Committee for promoting the Conversion of the Jews. 1st. Mission at Pesth; 2d. Mission at Jassy; 3d. Mission to Palestine, — all of which were most encouraging. The Moderator, addressing Dr Keith, said — It is with no ordinary feelings of satisfaction that I tender to you the thanks of the Assembly for the Report you have now read, the hearing of which was to us a source of the richest grati- fication. Evening Sederunt. The Assembly met at seven o’clock. The Moderator introduced the Deputation of United Original Seceders, con- sisting of Mr Anderson, the Moderator; Mr Shaw, the Clerk; Thomas M‘Crie; Mr Wyllie, and Mr Whyte. Rev. Mr Shaw said, — I rejoice in the demonstration of the power of Christian principle which you have given, — in the proof that you have, by your Act of Separation, afforded of the power of religion in the heart. The effect of the noble deed of Thursday will be felt throughout Christendom. The principles will not merely cross the border, but they will spread to every land, and bless the nations of the earth. We date the Second Reformation from the sitting of the General Assembly at Glasgow some two hundred years ago — that was a glorious Reformation. The secession of Thursday last was a Third Reformation, which will, under the blessing of God, be more glorious still. Rev. Thomas M‘Crie said, — We have been accustomed to regard ourselves as a branch of the Church of Scotland, to recognise her as our mother Church, to take a filial interest i in her prosperity, to pray for her reformation, and to look | forward with hope and delight to the time when we might be I at liberty to re-enter her pale and return to her communion. I It was not indeed from the Church of Scotland, but from the prevailing party in her communion — that is, — the Moderate party, — that our fathers declared a secession. Now, how- ever, when that party who drove out our fathers, — and drove them out because they protested against them for intruding ministers upon reclaiming congregations— has, with the aid i of the civil power, driven out you also, and for the same reason, — now that they are the only party in the Establish- ment, — now that they have, not by the temporary ascendancy of a party, but, after going through the farce of a discussion, by what may be considered a unanimous vote, surrendered the liberties of the Church into the hands of the civil power, — the case is considerably altered. I must regard you as the true representatives of the Church of Scotland. Much as I admire the delicacy shown by the members of this Assembly in their allusions to their former brethren, it can hardly be expected that I should display the same reserve. And you will permit me to say, that I for one cannot and will not recognise that party you have left behind, as my mother Church. Rev. J. A. Wyllie of Dollar then rose and said, — Sir, we recognise in your Assembly the representative of the ancient Church of Scotland, — of that Church from which God took His martyrs in times past, and from which it may be His holy pleasure to take His martyrs in times to come. We J APPENDIX. I 737 hail you as the inheritor of her virtues, and the heir of her j renown ; and surely this consideration is well fitted to cheer j you amid the labours and sufferings of the path on which you have now entered. With regard to the other society — that from which you have separated— we know her not. She may call herself the Church of Scotland ; but Scotland dis- owns her, and the martyrs of Scotland disown her; for the tenet she has now adopted, as her leading and distinguishing tenet, is one which these holy confessors “ resisted unto blood, striving against sin.” But to you we fondly turn, and in you we recognise the church of our fathers, and of our fathers’ God. “ So let thine enemies perish, O Lord ; but let them who love thee be as the sun when he goeth forth in his strength.” Rev. Mr White, Haddington, said, — The principles of Non- intrusion and Spiritual Independence for which you have been contending, are neither netv nor peculiar; they are laid down in the word of God, and are, therefore, as ancient as Christianity, and common to all churches formed according to the pattern shown in the Scriptures; they have a place in the Standard Books of the Church of Scotland, were con- tended for by her worthies, suffered for by her martyrs, and, excepting in those periods where aliens had the ascen- dancy in her councils, they have been the uniform law of her administration ever since the First Reformation. The Moderator addressing the deputation said, — It is truly gratifying to us that we have the pleasure of seeing the descendants of the Original Seceders, who were cast out of the Church of Scotland for their defence of the same princi- ples and the same cause which we are defending, making their spontaneous appearance at the very first General As- sembly of the Free Church of Scotland, and giving us their countenance and encouragement in the prosecution of the good work. Thursday, May 25. The forenoon sederunt took place in Lothian Road church, but the meeting was private. Evening Sederunt. The Assembly met at seven, in Canonmills Hall, which was again filled with an audience amounting to betwixt three and four thousand. Rev. Dr Duncan of Ruthwell, took the chair. In course of the evening, Mr Dunlop read the following letter from the Marquis of Breadalbane, which was received with immense applause : — “ London, May 23, 1843. “ Dear Mr Dunlop, — I received your note of the 1.9th instant, yesterday morning, and as I have also received the Scotch papers, I am aware of all your proceedings down to Saturday. After a careful perusal of these, and having given my anxious consideration to the various topics of the Queen’s letter, and the spirit which pervades it, I am most reluctantly obliged to give up that hope which I had till now fondly entertained, that the Government were really in ear- nest in their desire to bring in a measure consistent with the rights and privileges of the Presbyterian Church, and securing to the parishes of Scotland the appointment of ministers ac- ceptable to the people. My resolve is therefore now taken, to vindicate my own principles as a Presbyterian, and to leave the Established Church ; and I beg of you to command my humble services in any way which can be most useful in the cause of the Free Presbyterian Church. I remain, dear Mr Dunlop, very faithfully yours, Breadalbane.” A communication from the Free Dissenters in Holland, of a very interesting nature, was read by Dr Henry Duncan, Moderator, pro tempore. It was written both in Dutch and English. The letter was received with great cordiality, ordered to be recorded, and a Committee appointed to pre- pare an answer. Church Schemes. Mr Dunlop read the report of the Committee appointed to prepare the draft of an act for collections for the Five Schemes, and to make suggestions as to any alteration in the management, under the altered circumstances of the Church, which having been acquiesced in, the Assembly approved of the report and act, and appointed accordingly. Committee on Education. Dr Welsh, as Convener gave in the following report : — That upon the lowest scale, and as presenting the minimum upon which the education of students of theology can be con- ducted for even a single year, the following arrangements must be made by the Assembly, or by a Committee intrusted with full powers upon the subject : “ 1. Three, or, if found desirable, four, professors of divin- ity must be appointed, viz., a principal and primarius pro- fessor of divinity — a professor of divinity and church history, — a professor of divinity and Hebrew. “ 2. A hall or class-room must be procured. “ 3. A library must be founded. “ In regard to the funds necessary for carrying a full system of education into effective operation, the Committee were of opinion that a sum not less than £200,000 must be placed in the hands of the Church.” The report was approved of, and the Committee continued, with a view to their reporting further on other parts of the system of education, in connexion with the Free Church, at a future diet of Assembly. Friday , May 26. The Assembly met to-day in the large hall at Canonmills, at one o’clock, — Dr Chalmers, Moderator. After engaging in the usual devotional exercises, the Clerk read over the minutes of the former sederunt. Sabbath Observance. Rev. P. Fairbairn, (Salton,) on behalf of the Committee, read a report of their last year’s proceedings. It referred principally to the efforts which had been made in opposition to the Sabbath travelling on the Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway. The Committee recommended the issuing of an address or testimony on the subject. Mr Dunlop then moved that the thanks of the Assembly be tendered to Mr Fox Maule, M.P., Mr Rutherford, M.P., Mr Campbell of Monzie, M.P., and Mr P. M. Stewart, M.P., for the deep interest they had taken in, and for the valued services they had rendered to, the Church. The Right Hon. Sir James Forrest, baronet, Lord Provost of the city of Edinburgh, seconded the motion, and the Moderator said he would have great pleasure in doing all that the Assembly required, to give expression to the grateful acknowledgments of the valuable services of those gentlemen. — May I be permitted to say, that I look to their support as a presage of the further support we may yet ex- pect from the friends of civil and religious liberty, — two causes that have been inseparably connected from the days of the glorious Luther to the time of the Revolution. The best guarantee for Civil liberty is to be found in the freedom and prosperity of the Christian Church. Evening Sederunt. The ministers and probationers met at eight o’ clock in the Lothian Road church, for devotional exercises in connexion with the work lying before them during the ensuing summer. The services were commenced by the Rev. Henry Grey of Edinburgh ; who gave out Psalm cxxxix. 1 — 6, read Rev. ii., engaged in prayer, and gave out Psalm cxxxix. 7 — 12. He was succeeded by the Rev. Mr Bonar of Larbert, — 1 Tim. ii ; prayer ; Psalm cxxiii. 1. Rev. Mr Brown of Ord followed, — Acts iv. 23, to the end; prayer; Psalm cii. 13. Mr Grey pronounced the blessing. It was a night much to be remembered. The Lord was there. The brethren were “ agreed together” respecting the things which they asked ; and many felt that the answer was not withheld. A very large meeting of elders was also held for the same purpose in St Luke’s church. Saturday, May 27. The Assembly met at one, in Canonmills Hall. — Dr Mac- kay of Dunoon in the chair, in the absence of Dr Chalmers. The Clerk submitted to the meeting the form agreed to for the deed of demission by probationers, which having been read, the Clerk intimated that licentiates wishing to subscribe it would have an opportunity of doing so in the committee- room. Upon this a great number of licentiates rose and left the hall for this purpose, amidst great applause from the audience. The report on sabbath Observance in America, then came under the notice of the Assembly. 5 A 738 APPENDIX. Secular Affairs oftloe Church. Mr Dunlop read the revised report of the Committee on the first branch of the secular affairs of the Church. The report was adopted. Election of Officebearers. A long report was read from the Committee on the Home Mission. The report detailed the objects for which the mission was originally appointed. The report on Foreign Missions having been called for, Dr Candlish said, he believed there was no formal report to he given in from this Committee. Dr Cunningham said he had to lay before the Assembly a brief report on the way of electing office-bearers ; hut the consideration of this document was postponed till Monday afternoon. Monday , May 29. The Free Assembly met this day at eleven o’clock, in Dr Candlish’s new church, Lothian Road. The public, how- ever, were not admitted till one o’clock, at which hour, in the absence of the Moderator, Dr McDonald, Ferintosh, took the chair, and opened the meeting with devotional ex- ercises. The Rev. Mr Cairns of Cupar, was of opinion the Assem- bly should issue a pastoral address, explanatory of the princi- ples for which the Free Church had been called on to con- tend, and from a regard to which they were now compelled to quit the Establishment. Now that the eyes of all Chris- tendom were upon them, they owed such a statement to all who held principles identical with theirs. They owed it to the Original Secession Synod, from whom they were now separated by a hardly perceptible distance ; and indeed he was not aware of any cause that should prevent them from coalescing as soon as possible. Dr Cunningham concurred. The report on the Election of Officebearers gave rise to con- siderable discussion ; but it was ultimately agreed to leave tjie final settlement of the matter till next Assembly. Quoad Sacra Churches. Mr Dunlop gave in a verbal report from the Law Com- mittee on the quoad sacra churches. A claim had been made, by the Established Church, to the property of these churches ; hut in the mean time it would be sufficient for the ministers of these churches to state, that the appoint- ments of presbyteries to preach in them ought to be disre- garded, except backed by applications to the Civil Courts. — The Committee was re-appointed. Evening Sederunt. The Assembly met in the hall at Canonmills at seven o’clock, and, as usual, engaged in prayer and praise, and reading the Scriptures ; the Rev. Henry Grey, Moderator. Financial Committee. Dr Chalmers read the report of this Committee. The first part of the report related to the various items of money realized for the Building and Sustentation Funds. The aggregate sum, now reported, amounted to £232,347. The reverend Doctor observed, that it was kind in the Christian public to come forward as they had done ; to set 1 themselves forward as the instruments of carrying out the promise to these ejected ministers, to shield and protect them, — and concluded his singularly powerful address by intimat- ing, that a number of the most interesting cases connected with the subscription would be published in an Appendix to the Report. The Chairman, Rev. H. Grey, addressing the Moderator, said, — Moderator, I am unable to give expression to the grateful feeling which pervades the heart of every one in this Assembly. Our obligations to you are inexpressibly great. They extend over many long years. Your services to the Church in connexion with the great cause which is identified . with your presence here to-night, entitles you to the grati- i tude and the thanks of this Assembly. The wisdom of your suggestions, and the efficiency of your plans, have been tried, | and have triumphed. We thank God, and glorify the grace ! of God in you. You are the giant collector — the big beggar, — and there is no selfishness in your beggary — you ask for the Church of Christ. Why, Sir, you have erected a new Establishment, and I think now, that we are pretty much independent of our land-holders. When was there ever such an Assembly as this before? No angry passions, no unruly | tempers, no factious strife for the precedence of this chair. | And I trust we shall improve our privileges for the advance- ^ ment of the kingdom of Christ. And for you, Sir, our hope and prayer is, that you may be long spared, that you may con- tinue to be a blessing to the kingdom of Christ. Colonial Churches. Dr Welsh then read the report of the Committee. The accounts from Upper Canada, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and New South Wales, were of the most cheer- 1 ing nature, and the interest felt in our cause was such as to show, that at whatever distance Scotchmen might be from their country, the love of home, and of the Church of home, was the strongest feeling in their hearts. The Moderator returned thanks to Dr Welsh in suitable terms. Education Committee — Supplemental Report. Dr Welsh read a statement concerning the proposed College of the Free Church — A Theological Faculty — Week- day Elementary Schools — Sabbath Schools — Church and Sacred Music. In reference to the latter he remarked : — There is perhaps no department in which we have been less attentive to the views and feelings of the founders of our Church, than in that which relates to sacred music. And it is, therefore, recommended, that a special Sub-committee should be appointed to take the whole subject of sacred music into their consideration, viz., 1. In regard to intro- ducing this as an indispensable branch of education in our i elementary schools ; 2. In considering the best means of im- proving congregational singing, and taking practical measures j for introducing an improvement into separate congregations ; and, 3. In using judicious means towards making the singing of psalms form a part of family worship. Tuesday, May 30. The Assembly met to-day in Canonmills Hall at 11 o’clock, — Rev. Mr Burns of Kilsyth in the chair. The As- sembly was, as usual, constituted by praise and prayer, and reading of the Scriptures. Debt of the Church. Mr J. G. Wood, W. S. in the absence of Mr A. Bonar, laid before the Assembly a statement of .the funds of the Church for the past year. Mr Henry Dunlop, of Craigton, thought it was not too much to ask the elders to take the burden of the debt on their own shoulders, and thus keep clear of the current by which the contributions of the people were flowing into the funds of the Free Presbyterian Church. He calculated that the num- ber of ministers who would have altogether left the Estab- lishment would he 500 ; and if so, then there would he a body of three or four thousand elders ; and if each did some- thing to liquidate the debt, it would soon he swept away. He begged to move the appointment of a Committee to carry out these suggestions. Mr Craufurd of Craufurdland, thought the elders could best take up this case, and he hoped they would cheerfully do so. Dr Cunningham thought no class should be exempted from the obligation under which they felt themselves laid to get | quit of that debt, and enter on their new efforts untrammelled by any legal burdens. It was a subject which they could not well appeal to the public upon ; but they might all do some- i thing, each in his own circle. He was quite willing that a Committee of the elders should take the responsibility of making the arrangements for collecting the money and pay- ing off the debt ; and in doing so, he would have it distinctly 1 understood, that £5000 was the sum that would require to be raised. A large and influential committee was then appointed. Address to the Queen. Dr M'Farlan of Greenock, read the draft of an Address to her Majesty — which he said was necessary, that it might : be known to the crown in what position we consider our- selves as standing, now that we have renounced the benefits which we have derived from our situations as parish ministers. Rev. I)r Buchanan of Glasgow, said, — Moderator, this Address furnishes us with an opportunity of taking what APPENDIX. j may be called a parting look, both to the State and to the j Established Church of Scotland. I say a parting look ; for ! he must be blind indeed, both to the signs of the times, and | to the character which these two parties, in reference to eccle- I siastical affairs, have now assumed, who anticipates that we shall soon come again into contact, either with the Estab- lished Church, which we have forsaken, or with the State whose connexion we have renounced. There is, I appre- hend, in the judgment of every member of this Assembly, a double wall of separation between us and the National Church. One wall has been built by the State, another wall has been built by the Residuary Assembly. I am not careful with regard to the details of any legis- lative measure which may be either spoken of in the Houses of Parliament, or ultimately passed into a law, — I am not careful as to the details of any measure which they may either offer or actually pass. They have laid down the principle, that 'the State is supreme,— that it is not an ally standing in a co-ordinate position to the Church of Christ ; but that the instant the connexion between Church and State is formed, the Church loses, so to speak, its individ- uality, — loses its own distinctive character and prerogatives, and becomes a mere part and parcel of the State itself. It matters not what legislation the State may offer on this footing. The legislation offered on this footing the Church never can entertain for a moment, — never for a moment can receive. I say, therefore, it is a parting look, but not a ‘‘lingering” look, which we now take. For so long as the State asserts and maintains principles like these, we can have no desire for any connexion with the State at all. Sir, we read in history of a very memorable Act Rescis- sory of a very memorable reign ; and unquestionably the Residuary Assembly would have saved themselves much trouble, and made their proceedings more clear and definite, if, instead of having seriatim repealed all the acts of Reforma- tion, which this Church has been in the course of pursuing during the last nine years, it had “ at one fell swoop,” and by a single sentence, declared everything the Church had done since 1834 to be null and void. An Erastian State, therefore, may legislate as seemeth good to it for an Eras- tian Church. With their proceedings we have no concern. We can look on them only with aversion, or with pity. But so long as that State and that ecclesiastical Establish- ment continue on the footing they have respectively taken up, — continue to sustain the character they have severally as- sumed, — I say we are done with them, and will continue in the course we have, by God’s good hand upon us, so auspiciously begun, — the course of organizing all the parts of our Protesting Church, spreading its institutions and its agencies wider and wider abroad over our beloved land,— sending, I trust, its blissful influences far abroad, to gladden Christendom at large, and to give an impulse to the king- dom of Christ over the whole world. Report on Correspondence tvith Evangelical Churches. The Assembly having called for the report as to corres- pondence with other bodies of Evangelical Christians, Dr R. Buchanan rose, and said, — Important and inter- ! esting as the subject was, it was one of peculiar delicacy and j extent ; the object of which might he injured as much by the ; indiscreet zeal, as by the lukewarmness and indifference of its professed friends. He had little doubt that the Assem- bly would be of the same opinion as the Committee. He considered it would be neither desirable nor wise to rash at once into the details of the subject, — to rush at once into a recommendation of those details by which the measure might be best carried into effect. But the Committee considered it to be their duty, and the duty of the Assembly, at once cor- dially to entertain the question, and to indicate freely that they regard it as one at all times deserving the serious atten- tion of a Christian Church, and especially deserving attention Jit the present eventful crisis at which they had arrived, and the eventful period of the history of the Christian world which was now about to begin. Dr Candlish rejoiced in the latter recommendation of the report for the appointment of a Committee to eo- operate with, and to meet deputations from, other churches, for the inter- change of information, and for consultation as to what ought to be done for the cause of God and His Anointed ; and he would be glad if the suggestion were followed out b} r all evangelical churches, to appoint deputations to meet and con- sult on the important affairs of our common Christianity, Evening Sederunt. Dr M‘Farlan of Greenock, took the chair in the absence | of Dr Chalmers, and opened the meeting with devotional exercises. After the reading of the minutes, a deputation from the Edinburgh Tradesmen's Association, came forward and delivered an address of sympathy and congratulation. The address was admirable. It was signed by John Mac- donald, John M'Craw, James B. M‘Callum, and Alex. Johnston ; and these individuals were understood to compose the deputation who presented it. Overture on Union for Prayer. Dr Candlish read an overture on this subject, signed by a large number of ministers and some elders, proposing that ten days during the month of October should be set apart for united prayer. The object of the overture was hailed with the cordial approbation of the Assembly. Co-operation vnth Dissenters. Dr Keith was happy and thankful, now that their business \ was drawing to a close, that, in the whole course of the momentous proceedings of the first Assembly of the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland, there had not been a single division. He farther remarked, in very encouraging terms, on the prospect of their co-operating with Evangelical Dis- ! senters ; and, having alluded to the liberal manner in which they had granted the use of their churches to the Free Pres- byterian Church, he moved that the thanks of the Assembly be voted to them for this mark of their kindness. Agreed ; to. Day of Thanksgiving. Dr Candlish proposed that Thursday the 15th of June be set apart for solemn thanksgiving to Almighty God, humilia- tion, and prayer, in connexion with the circumstances in which they had now been placed. Agreed to. The Moderator said — That in recording the names of those who had signalized themselves by their contributions to the New Church, — and it was a little adventurous in him to do so from memory at all, — he had made one omission, which he now wished to repair. The Rev. Doctor here read a letter from William Campbell, Esq. of Tillichewan, announcing his intention to adhere to the Free Presbyterian Church, and a subscription of £2000 to the Building Fund, to be distri- buted in sums of £400 each, for the erection of churches in the following parishes respectively, namely, Alexandria, Bonhill, Dumbarton, and Cardross in Dumbartonshire, and Dunoon in Argyleshire, besides £20 annually to each. The Moderator added, that he believed that if all this gentleman’s benefactions to the Church of Scotland, at the time its extension was going on so prosperously, were recounted together, they would not come short of £15,000. Close of Assembly. Mr Dunlop moved that the next Assembly he held at Glasgow, on Tuesday the 17th October next. The proposal was unanimously agreed to. The business of the Assembly being now completed, the 1 Moderator proceeded to address the House. In concluding a long and luminous Address, he said, — We have great reason to bless God for the readiness of our people to befriend and support the Free Church, and for their generous offerings in its cause. The silver and gold are the Lord’s, yet given by human hands, and that under the impulse of human hearts, turned by His power whither- soever He will. He works in man both to will and to do of His good pleasure, and so prompts the desires, as well as provides for the deeds, of Christian generosity. His empire reaches to the unseen spirit — to the world that is within, as well as to the visible world around us. It is not only He who fills the giver’s' hand, but it is He who actuates the giver’s heart ; and while the merely secular philanthropist but makes his request known unto man, it is our part in everything, and more especially in this, to make our request ! known unto God. And we take an humble and limited view of our enterprise, if we confine it to a provision for ejected ministers, or for the relief and sustentation of then- families. Our object, in all the fulness of its ultimate ac- complishment, is not only to repair the desolation of our sanctuary, but to replenish the long-neglected wastes, both i in town and country, of our beloved Scotland. We feel that APPENDIX. 740 I i we should attempt great things, and should hope great things ; hut most assuredly all our attempts will turn out to he abortive, and all our hopes but the mockery of vision, unless we pray for great things. In particular, we should pray that God would so pour forth, of His own free and munificent Spirit, as both to multiply and enlarge the liberalities of our people, and thus bring them nearer to the standards of our beloved Saviour’s example, who, “ though rich, yet for our sakes be- came poor, that we through his poverty might be made rich.” And here, who knows but the most illustrious of all con- quests might be awaiting us, over even the deadliest of our adversaries ? Let us hope yet, in humble dependence on the grace which cometh from above, that by the labours of a free, and extended, and well supported ministry of the gospel, a Christian, and so a quiet and orderly population, may at length spring up under our hands ; and that, by the exhibition of a result so precious, prejudice and hostility might in time be disarmed, and even our now most bitter opponents, when they come to understand our principles and views, might at length be reconciled to them. We are daily misunderstood and misconstrued at present ; hut still let us cherish the confidence, that when our ways please God, He will make even our enemies be at peace with us. And there does seem, even to the eye of sense and experience, as well as of faith, a likely and leading avenue towards such a consummation. If the great and urgent necessity of our present social con- dition be an elevation of character, and so of comfort, throughout the general population — if it be becoming more palpable every day that this is the alone panacea for all our moral and all our political disorders, — if, in the utter fruit- lessness of every other expedient, it be at last perceived that far the most effectual agency for humanizing an else un- governable multitude into contentment, and loyalty, and peace, is the agency of well-taught schools and well-served churches, — who knows but that with these, which are our chief and chosen principles of action, we might, with the Divine countenance, effect a good so manifest and undeniable in the reclaimed families, even of districts before the most outlandish, and the most unpromising, that the eyes even of the most inveterate may at length be opened, and their patriotism, if not their piety, incline them at the last to tolerate, nay to befriend, nay, positively to aid us. But these, without a blessing from on high, are vain and earthly calculations ; and to make them good, there must be earnest, and united, and imploring prayer. In all our ways God must be acknowledged and inquired after ; and, unless by an answer of graciousness from the upper sanctuary, we can expect no sound or stable prosperity to any undertaking. Whether, then, individually, and in secret, or in the assem- bled fellowships of the faithful, let the mighty engine of prayer be put into constant and general operation. We would cast our cause on the supplications of the people, and should esteem it the happiest presage of our coming enlarge- ment, if we saw in the fervour and frequency of these, that God had indeed been pleased to pour a spirit of grace, and of supplication over our land. “ Only prove me, saith the Lord of Hosts, and see whether I will not pour down a blessing upon you.” “Ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence, and give Him no rest till He establish, and till He make Jerusalem a praise in the earth.” “ Pray for the peace of J erusalem ; they shall prosper that love thee. Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces. For my brethren and companions’ sakes, I will now say, peace he within thee. Because of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek thy good.” The Moderator, then, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, the only Head and King of the Church, appointed the next Assembly to be holden at Glasgow, on Tuesday , the Ylthday of October next. After engaging in prayer and praise, the Assembly broke up about one o’elock in the morning. The Hall remained crowded to the close, there being present betwixt three and four thousand persons. No. XX. Abridged Proceedings of the Second General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland , held at Glasgow , October 1 7, 1843. The Assembly met at eleven o’clock forenoon. The doors of the City Hall were thrown open to the public at an early hour, and long before the commencement of Divine service, the house was crowded in every part. The attendance- of ministers and elders was very numerous. At five minutes past eleven, Dr Chalmers ascended the platform, and took his seat in the Moderator’s chair, Dr M‘Farlan of Greenock, and Dr Brown of Glasgow, being seated on his right, and Dr Mackellar of Pencaitland on the left. Dr Chalmers commenced the services by reading the first five verses of the 46th Psalm, which were sung by the congregation, — the largest, it may be safely be affirmed, that ever participated in the worship of a General Assembly in Scotland. The Rev. Doctor then offered up an impressive prayer, after which the first and second verses of the 84th j Psalm were sung. Dr Chalmers took for his text Nehemiah I xi. 16, “ And Shabbethai and Jozabad, of the chief of the Levites, had the oversight of the outward business of the House of God." The words marked in italics formed the subject of discourse, which was characterized by the massive eloquence of the preacher, and was pre-eminently practical, and admirably fitted for the occasion. At the close of the discourse, the audience joined in singing a portion of the 147th Psalm. Dr Chalmers intimated that, after the benediction had ! been pronounced, the Assembly would be convened and con- stituted, which was accordingly done, by solemn prayer. The roll of the Assembly was then called over, and a number of new commissions were given in. Dr Chalmers then proposed for the acceptance of the Assembly, as Moderator, Dr Thomas Brown of Glasgow — one he said to whom belongs, in no common degree the character- istics of that “ wisdom which cometh down from above being “ first pure,” I could not fix upon any individual of this whole number who better exemplifies all the remaining attributes of this heavenly wisdom. — His is not only the wisdom which qualifies him for such a charge ; but his is pre- eminently and distinctively the “ meekness of wisdom.” Dr M l Far lan of Greenock.- — Moderator, I have been re- quested to do that which after what you have uttered, and after the cheers with which your proposal has been received, I think is altogether unnecessary — that is, to second the motion which you have now made for the election of Dr Brown. I shall not add one word to what Dr Chalmers j has said on this subject, but only express the unmingled delight and satisfaction with which 1 second the motion i for the election of my much loved and universally respected j friend. Dr Brown having been unanimously elected, among other j things said, — I am undeserving of the honour you have con- ferred upon me, and no man is more conscious of this than ! I myself am ; but since it is your will and your pleasure, I shall enter on these duties, looking to Him whose grace is j promised to be made sufficient for us, and whose strength is j perfected in our weakness. We meet not at this time for the purpose of framing a new constitution for the Church of j Scotland. That constitution, under the guidance of the Spirit | of God, has been framed by the skill and the wisdom of our j forefathers — the men of eminence and themeii'ofGodof former j times, — our Protestant Reformers ; and it existed before it j was brought into connexion with the State at all. By that j constitution we abide steadfastly. Our Standards, our Books | of Discipline, our Creed, our Confession of Faith, we retain in all their original integrity. To them we have adhered — to 1 them we have appealed — by them we have sought to be tested in all our recent contendings ; but we were derided as men of extravagant views, of presumptuous ideas. We therefore, this being the case, maintain that we are the Church of Scot- land. Deprived of her civil privileges, and denuded as she is of her State countenance, we have protested, and we do protest, — and we will be borne out in the estimation of all | men that are unprejudiced and capable of judging, — that in ; our doctrine, and our polity, and our discipline, and our wor- J j ship, we represent the Church of our fathers. We are the i j true Church that was originally recognised by the State— the I Church that could exist and did exist independent of the State — the Church that was assumed by the State, never to be tampered with in her righteous domain, and never to be trammelled in the exercise of her spiritual functions. We I are the Church that has passed through great tribulations — j through fire and through water — the Church that has passed through the hottest persecutions, and yet remains unscathed, ! like the bush that was burning and was not consumed. Such is the Free Church of Scotland ; and this is its second holy 1 1 convocation — this is its second General Assembly. APPENDIX. 741 Mr Dunlop said that as part of the business of to-morrow they should hear the report of the Committee on the Five Schemes of the Church; also the report of the Committee on the India Mission; and in particular that eminent servant of God, the Rev. Dr Malan, from Geneva. And next, that they should receive the deputation from the United Secession Church, which had been appointed at the recent meeting of that Synod. The evening sederunt was occupied with devotional exer- cises. Wednesday , October 18. The Assembly met at twelve o’clock, and was constituted by prayer and praise. After reading the minute of last sederunt, Dr Chalmers said, — He had received a communication from Sir James Graham, acknowledging receipt of the Address from last Assembly, which letter he would now hand to the Moderator in order that it might be read. The Clerk then read the following letter, which at the con- clusion was received with much disapprobation : — “ Whitehall , June 8, 1843. “ Sir, — I have had the honour of receiving, and laying before her Majesty, the address which bears your signature, and which was transmitted by you to me. “ I am unwilling needlessly to refer to the late secession of a portion of the ministers from the Established Church of Scotland : but the assurance of your continued loyalty has been graciously received by her majesty ; and the Queen relies with satisfaction on the declaration which you make on behalf of the ministers and elders of a church of Christ, that you will be steadfast in your obedience to the civil power, and that you regard that duty as demanded by the highest authority, and as due to the peace and prosperity of the I nation. — I have the honour to be, Sir, your obedient Servant, J. R. G. Graham. “ To the Rev. Dr Chalmers, Moderator, Edinburgh.” Mr Carment of Rosskeen complained of the terms in which the letter was couched, which he considered highly disrespect- ful to the Church. And moved that it be not inserted in the Assembly’s sederunt. Dr. Mackellar said it was the usual practice to insert such communications ; and he hoped that, by showing on the pre- j sent occasion every feeling of deference and respect to the I quarter from which the present one professed to come, they | would exhibit their anxious desire to act on the principles j set before them by their Divine Lord and Master. He was i convinced that it would be most advisable and respectful to j allow the letter to be recorded in the usual way, which was accordingly done. The Schemes of the Church. An Interim arrangement of Synods and Presbyteries was agreed on till Assembly, May, 1845. Dr Mackellar was elected superintendent of the Five Schemes of the Church, in room of Mr Alexander Dunlop, who resigned after having read the report ; but agreed to continue to act as legal i adviser of the Free Church as before. Dr Gordon, after giving in the report of the India Mis- sions, read a letter from Rev. Alexander Duff, D.D., dated | Calcutta, 7th August, 1843, stating that he and the other missionaries had, with one heart and one mind, resolved to separate from the Establishment, and cast in their lot with the Free Protesting Church of Scotland. Dr Wilson from Bombay delivered a long and interesting speech, relative to the state of religion in India, and the voluntary but neces- sary withdrawment of himself and his brethren from the Establishment ; concluding with the admirable words of Dr Cotton Mather of America. — “ In the meantime, North Britain will be distinguished (pardon me if I use the term, Goshenished,) by irradiations from heaven upon it of such a tendency. There will be found a set of excellent men in that reformed and renowned Church of Scotland, with whom the most refined and extensive essays to do good will become so natural that this whole world will fare the better for them.” The Rev. Gentleman, after a few other remarks, concluded by apologising for the length of his address. Evening Sederunt. After devotional exercises, and some routine business, the Assembly called for the Addresses from other Churches. Dr Chalmers said — It is quite in keeping with the delight- ful transactions, which I trust one and all of us shall witness this evening, that I should communicate the fact of having received, as the Moderator of the Free Church, a number of formal addresses and resolutions from various bodies in England and Ireland, as well as two or three from foreign places. They amount, those I have received directly ad- dressed to myself, to nineteen ; and there is one that has been handed into the Clerk since we met ; so that, altogether, ! these addresses and resolutions, congratulatory of the move- ment which has been adopted by the Free Church of Scot- land, amount in number to twenty. I must say for one that I have felt exceedingly delighted with these communications. They congenialised very much with my own wishes for union, and a mutual good understanding on the part of all those who hold the Lord Jesus Christ as the Head, and who love him in sincerity and in truth. Mr Pitcairn, the Clerk, read, at the request of Dr Chal- mers, the following communication from the Synod of United Original Seceders : — “At Edinburgh, Davie Street Church, 16th Aug., 1843, “ The Synod of United Original Seceders being met and constituted, the Synod having spent considerable time in deliberating on their duty in reference to the Free Protesting Church, the following motion was made, seconded, and agreed to ; — ‘ That in consequence of the late faithful contend- ings of those now forming the Free Protesting Church of Scotland, and particularly of their struggles in defence of the Spiritual Independence of the Church, our relation is very materially altered ; therefore the Synod consider it to be highly desirable, in order to the faithful discharge of their public duty, to ascertain, as speedily as possible, the precise nature of that relation ; and for this purpose they appoint a Committee to correspond with any Committee that the Free Church, may appoint, to see whether there still exist suffi- cient grounds for the Synod remaining separate, or whether, by mutual explanations, we may not be able to remove any obstacles to an honourable union.’ “ Extracted from the minutes of Synod, by Robert Shaw, Syn. Clk.” Dr Chalmers said many of these addresses state, with all frank- ness and fidelity, that they are from Voluntaries, and they hope that in good time we, in the fullest and highest sense of the term, will become Voluntaries also. I know not how far the Assem- bly of the Free Church may go along with them ; but I confess to you I cannot go their length ; and I thought it fair and upright to give them a candid expression of my opinion on the subject. I have only to say, in conclusion, that, although this difference may have come above board in the course of that correspondence, let us remember that it is not a difference which has in the least impaired the cordiality of their addresses to us ; and, therefore, the differences would bear to the agreements no greater proportion than the “tithe” and the “mint,” and the “anise,” and the “cum- min,” bear to the “ weightier matters of the law.” Dr Candlish said all the reply that is necessary for us to address to our sympathising friends of every evangelical de- nomination who favour the Voluntary principle, is that, as a Church, the Voluntary principle is not a principle which this Church sanctions — that it is not a principle ever maintained by the Church of Scotland, and that we are separating from the Establishment, testifying that the State, in attempting to enslave the Church, as the recompense of her endowing the Church, has sinfully failed in its duty in two respects — sinned both in the attempt to assert an Erastian supremacy over the Church and in fail- ing to discharge the duty of countenancing and favouring the j Church, and leaving her at the same time in the enjoyment I of her spiritual freedom. But, while this is our answer to our English friends, I think that the address of the Original Secession Synod should be separated from the others, and i sent to the separate consideration either of the same or of a distinct and separate Committee. That address is one to which we could not but listen with emotions of peculiar solemnity and interest. Great as is our delight in receiving the testimony of foreign Churches, and Churches in England who claim to be, and I believe them to a large extent to be, the representatives of the Nonconformists, still greater is our delight on receiving, in respect of our recent movement, the 742 APPENDIX. testimony of the body in this land which can most truly claim I to be the representatives of the mind of the Erskines, who I originated the Secession. And I rejoice in that testimony, both on account of the body from which it comes, and the j principles on which it proceeds — principles of perfect practical agreement with us in all the fundamental views that pertain to the union between Church and State ; and in respect, moreover, to the end to which the point, namely, the blessed anticipation of a complete incorporating union — the mingling of their testimony with the more recent witness-bearing of the Free Church of Scotland. Considering these things — the body from which it proceeds, the principles set forth in it, and the end to which it points — I shall, therefore, with permission of the Assembly, move that this particular docu- ment be separated from the others, and remitted, either to the same Committee, or, to mark our sense of its importance, to a distinct Committee of the House. — The latter suggestion was agreed to. Deputation from Geneva. The Rev. Dr Malan was next heard as a deputation from the Church of Geneva. Dr Henderson said in reply, that Dr Malan had not flattered them, and hoped that all would lay to heart the fatherly admonitions that had been addressed to them. He concluded by proposing the thanks of the Assembly to Dr Malan for his expressions of Christian sympathy, and his excellent inculcation of Christian fidelity ; which was accordingly done by the Moderator, in a very solemn and impressive manner. The scene presented was indeed of a most touching description. Two venerable fathers of the Church of Christ, whose grey hairs bore testimony to their long service in the cause of their Divine Master, were seen extending to each other the hand of Christian fellow- ship, and, as it were, representing in their own persons the union of principle and sentiment between the Free Conti- nental Churches and the Free Church of Scotland. After conversing with apparently deep feeling for a brief space, the Moderator intimated Dr Malan’ s request that the Assembly would join in prayer to God on his behalf; and he accord- ingly called on Dr Mackellar, who offered up a most solemn and appropriate prayer. Deputation from the Reformed Presbyterian Synod. j Professor Symington, Mr Graham of Wishawtown, and Mr Nelson of Rothsay, appeared as a deputation from the Reformed Presbyterian Synod. — “It is unnecessary,” said the address, “ to say that we highly approve of the scriptural principles upon which your recent proceedings have been founded, when, so successfully, in our view, so far as scrip- tural argument is concerned, you made the glorious truth of ; the supremacy of Jesus Christ to bear against the invasion of the rights of the Christian people, and against Erastian en- croachments upon the independent jurisdiction of the Church of Christ. We admire the high Christian principle and noble magnanimity of your late conduct in taking your pro- test, and in your subsequent act of separation from the Esta- blished Church of Scotland ; and we have observed with high approbation the calm Christian dignity and order with which you have carried your protest and separation into effect. We rejoice in the reverential deference which has been paid to the authority of scriptural truth, and in the devout homage which has been rendered to the Lord Jesus Christas King in ! Zion, Prince of the kings of the earth, in conducting your recent pleadings. And, now that you stand in the liberty wherewith Christ has made you free, we expect of you, with some measure of confidence, faithfully to assert and vindicate the rights of the Christian people to choose their pastors and rulers, against intrusion and patronage in every form ; and that now, under the authority and by the grace of Jesus Christ, who has the key of the house of David, you will ! faithfully exercise your free spiritual jurisdiction in the pro- ' bation and ordination of ministers and other officers, and in the admission and exclusion of members ; and that, giving forth a faithful testimony in behalf of the doctrines of the glorious gospel of the blessed God, you will continue your efforts to extend that gospel to every corner of our beloved , land, to the glory of the Redeemer and the salvation of im- | mortal souls.” Professor Symington added, that the body which he re- | presented had appointed a Committee to correspond on the subject of union, and he had no doubt that good results would in the end issue from what was now doing in Scotland. ■ - — j Mr Graham of Wishawtown said — You have already called 1 forth the sympathy of those who love the righteous cause of Christ throughout the world. Frombrethren in America, India, the continent of Europe, as well as in England and Ireland,, you have received the most cordial greetings; and you could well afford to dispense with the expression of their feelings, however friendly, by a body so inconsiderable as ours ; but we would be doing injustice to ourselves, and to the cause for which we have been contending, were we not to come forward and bless you in the name of the Lord. The Church of Scotland has already proved a blessing to the nations, and the admira- tion of the faithful in many lands ; and we trust, that though greatly hindered and curbed in her high career by the rude hand of Erastian restraint, she will yet more than realise the virgin promise of her lofty character and wide-spread in- fluence and renown, even though' the powers of this world should regard her with a jealous and a scowling eye. She is a Presbyterian Church holding her constitution to be that which the word of God prescribes, and not the mere device of worldly expediency and human wisdom. She is distin- guished for the orthodoxy of her symbols — her Confession and Catechisms, in which the doctrines of salvation by grace occupy so prominent a place, and on the footing of which she extends the right hand of fellowship to all who are like- minded, and welcomes them within her fold. She is a Church acknowledging Christ as her only Head, taking His word as her supreme and infallible standard, and asserting the duty of the nations, as such, to yield a willing allegiance to the reigning Redeemer, the Governor among the nations, and the Prince of the kings of the earth. She is a Church in the hands of whose office-bearers, distinct from the civil magis- trate, the key of discipline is placed, that in the exercise of ! it the precious may be separated from the vile. Deputation from the United Secession Synod. From the United Secession Synod, there appeared as a deputation the Rev. Drs. Brown, Heugh, King, and Harper, and the Rev. Mr Struthers, and James Peddie, Esq., \V.S. From the address, Dr Harper read the following. “We can- not but wish you well when we consider that your cause, in corflmon with that which we maintain, is the cause of Chris- tian liberty. Taught by experience that the freedom of Christ’s house could not be enjoyed by you under those con- 1 ditions which the temporal power was willing to concede, led plainly to perceive that the alternative was presented to you of relinquishing State alliance, or of bowing to State dictation, you acted in the hour of trial with the self-denial and decision which duty to our common Head demanded ; and, with a devotedness to which we unfeignedly do honour, you counted those things that were gain to you loss for Christ. “Already the pleasant fruits of your emancipation are felt by j many in that spirit of co-operation which is drawing together j the friends of religion in our land. That the bonds of Christian fellowship should ever have been broken we have 1 often and much deplored. But the light now shineth, and better days draw nigh. The intercourse of Christian brother- hood is begun ; and, from the measures in progress, we 1 earnestly anticipate results that shall be beneficial and grati- j fying to all. “ It was with pleasure this Synod received, from a Com- mittee of your number, appointed for the above purpose, pro- posals of a plan whereby denominations may jointly prose- 1 cute this labour of love without interference or collision. To the spirit of the arrangement we respond with unhesitating and entire cordiality, and trust that on both sides a sincere | wish will be manifested to give the proposed regulations effect. “ How nearly the spiritual independence of the Church is connected with her spiritual purity, you are, dear brethren, aware. To renounce secular alliance that we may resist secular dictation, what is it but to protest, in the name of Him who redeems his people from all iniquity, that we shall be independent that we may be pure ? > “ In the name and by the authority of the United Associate Synod, (Signed) “ Thomas Struthers, Moderator. “Edinburgh, 11th October, 1843.” After Mr Struthers had addressed the Assembly Dr Heugh said — Moderator, I was delighted to hear ! yesterday, from the lips of the honoured individual who filled that chair before you, that you already reckon 470 ministers in this Assembly, and that you have been joined by 130 preachers, making in all 600 Christian labourers. It is my fervent prayer, — and I am sure I am only expressing the desires of my ecclesiastical associates, — that every one of these brethren may be a man of God in truth, — that they may all be workmen not needing to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. It is not only honouring to yourselves, — it is an honour to our country, — an honour to this age, — above all, an honour to the truth and its Divine Author, — that 470 ministers of the gospel, without consulting with flesh and blood, have cut the ties of a long and cherished ecclesiastical connexion, and have sacrificed emolument, status, and much beside that was dear to them, rather than sacrifice their own conscientious convictions, and their duty to their great Lord. Dr King said that the Church is a spiritual society, — that Christ is its sole King and Head, — that none but his people are its true members, and none but His Word its charter and statute-book, — all these are doctrines which you and we are equally determined to hold and to avow. Then look at the sameness of our actual positions. We inhabit the same favoured and beloved land ; we have the same encourage- ments and discouragements, — the same coadjutors and oppo- nents, — the same motto of Spirituality and Independence in- scribed upon our banners, — and that Lord, who, as Lord, is both ours and yours, points to the same land to be occupied, and says to the one and the other of us, “ Go ye up and possess it.” It will not be understood that I wish to pre- cipitate unions. I do not think we are yet ready for incor- poration. The event, I believe, will come ; and I think we may take sin and shame to ourselves that it is not nearer. But as we cannot unite at present, whatever may be the blame attaching to the impossibility, all I suggest is, that we keep the end in view, and beware of committing one act, or even uttering one word, that would either retard or embitter the happy consummation. Dr Brown of Edinburgh stated that they had come to give utterance to their feelings, and to state that they regarded the Free Church with admiration and cordial love. They have a place in our hearts next to the body of Christians with whom we are more closely connected, and we look forward with an earnest desire and a confident hope to the period, which we think is not likely to be a distant one, when the two bodies will be closely united. Let us instantly keep to mind, then, that the eyes of our Lord are upon us ; and if at the close of the day he should ask, why dispute ye by the way, let it be exemplified that our great dispute has been which shall be most active and successful in promoting the honour and glory of our common Lord and Master. Dr. Makellar then moved the following resolution : — “ The General Assembly acknowledge, with cordial satisfac- tion, the congratulations of the Reformed Presbyterian Synod and of the United Associate Synod, communicated by their deputations, and the assurance of their brotherly sympathy and regard, and resolve to appoint deputations to attend the next meetings of these Synods respectively, in order to express to them the kind and cordial regard which this Assembly entertains toward them, and their earnest desire to co- operate with them and other evangelical communions in advancing the kingdom of their common Lord; and they instruct their Moderator to communicate to the deputations by whose presence they have been favoured, the high gratifi- cation derived by this Assembly from the intercourse which, on the part of the Reformed Presbyterian Synod and the United Associate Synod, has now been opened with them — an intercourse which it will be the earnest desire of the Assembly to cultivate in a spirit of Christian charity and brotherhood.” The Moderator then conveyed the thanks of the Assembly to the deputations. Thursday , October 19. The Assembly met in the early part of the day in private deliberation on the financial affairs of the Church. Evening Sederunt . After some announcements, the Assembly called for the report of the Commissioners to the Irish Presbyterian Church, as also the deputation from that Church. Mr Makgill Crichton introduced the deputation. Mr Goudy of Strabane said — In presenting to you, Sir, at this time our commission from the Irish General Assembly, there is one source of embarrassment which some supposed our brethren who addressed you in May last, in the Hall of Canonmills, would feel — but from which, we at least, the deputation, are completely relieved — I mean the embarrass- ment of doubt as to whether or not w r e appear before the supreme judicatory of the ancient Church of Scotland. In truth the Irish Presbyterian Church never had any doubt on this point; and she has now (if I may speak like an Irishman) less than ever. The movements of the last few months have been quite sufficient to remove any remnants of scepticism that she might have had. She has had evidence from two distinct sources. She has had it in the conduct of the Esta- blishment you have left. And I maintain that the doings of that body ever since the disruption, whether in relation to the Legislature or its own adnerents, or sister churches, or the protesting brethren who have left — have stripped it of all disguise, and put it out of the power of any honest man to lay his hand on his heart, and say that, established though it be, it is the Church of Scotland. But the Presbyterians of Ireland have had another source of evidence in the move- ments of your own Free Protesting Church since the memor- able and hallowed 18th May. They have witnessed the ardent and untiring efforts you have been since making to uphold and extend those principles to which on that day you bore so splendid a testimony. They have seen the great body of the godly people of Scotland adhering to you in the face of all opposition, and with unprecedented liberality pouring in their gifts into your treasury. They have seen the evangelical Churches of Christendom regarding it as an honour to fraternise with you. They have seen the mission- aries from distant lands hailing you as brethren, and refus- ing to be separated from you. These things our Church ac- cepts as so many additional testimonies borne in your behalf by your great King and Head. These she appeals to, and relies on as tending to ratify the verdict she pronounced in May last, and which she now pronounces again. That ver- dict was, and is, that however men in power may frown upon your principles, you only does she own, and with you only will she hold fellowship as the true and ancient and honoured Church of Scotland. You stand in the Thermopylae of Christendom. Persecution has sought to crush you, but it has only “ dragged into fame,” and rivetted on you the atten- tion and the admiration of the world. Persevere in that great cause which you have espoused, for it is the noblest of all causes, and its assured destiny is yet to triumph. Remem- ber your ancestral renown — think of the cloud of witnesses who have gone before, and who are beckoning you to follow. Call to mind that the Christian world is now looking to you as the selected champions of the truth, on this ancient field where its battles have been so often fought and won ; and that the memory of what you are now doing and suffering in behalf of great principles is yet to go abroad into all lands, and down throughout all time, to quicken every generous impulse, to inspire lofty and heroic purposes, and to feed and nourish in all hearts the immortal flame of liberty. Ani- mated by these thoughts, may you continue to maintain that “ good confession” which you have already “ witnessed before many witnesses.” In the midst of all your painful trials and sacrifices for conscience’ salve may you rejoice in feeling that you “ are partakers of Christ’s sufferings, and when at last his glory shall be revealed, may you be glad also with ex- ceeding joy.” In the name of the Presbyterian Church of Ireland, we “ speak” unto you, fathers and brethren, “ that ye go forward.” Mr Molyneux of Larne said, — You are jure divino the Church of Scotland — you are, by the almost unanimous voice of the Christian people, the Church of Scotland ; and as such, we, the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, regard you — and in the language of the Commission, by whose authority I appear this day before you, you are to us the parent Church of Scot- land. W e could not but sympathise with you in your con- tendings for the same liberty which we enjoy, and for the casting aside of that yoke of bondage which we never bore, but the character of whose galling despotism we can very well appreciate and comprehend. But when in endeavouring to maintain unimpeached the allegiance which you owe to Christ, the sole King and Head of the Church, we saw your venerable ministers dragged before the civil courts — when we saw them fined, and threatened, and the whole torrent of official insolence poured out against them — we would have been undeserving of the name of Presbyterian — we must have riven every emotion of gratitude from our bosoms — we must have quenched within us the fire of the chivalry of our native land — had we not sympathised with you in your sufferings j 744 APPENDIX. — had we not cherished feelings of the most intense interest with respect to your trials — and had we not made use of every effort within our power in order to avert the calamity and disruption by which your Church was impeded. We come not to visit the scenes which have been immortalised in undying song by your poets and your bards — we come not to gaze upon the birth-places of your heroes and your philoso- phers, or stand beside the spot where their earthly taber- nacles are commingling with their kindred dust — we come not to see what your genius has achieved in architecture, in mechanics, and in arts — we come not for a nobler purpose still — to gaze upon the scenes where your persecuted fathers i lived and fought, or died and triumphed — but we come to ' to behold an exhibition of moral sublimity, to our feelings i more glorious than them all, an Assembly consisting of almost 500 ministers of the everlasting Gospel, who have left houses and homes, and dignities and emoluments, at the call of con- science — an Assembly which can boast of some of the mighti- est intellects of the age — and to behold a Christian people who, casting aside the narrow reflections of our common 1 humanity, have consecrated of their means, not hundreds or j thousands, but hundreds of thousands, for the maintenance, unshackled by human power, of the liberty wherewith Christ has made them free. Your refusal to accede to the principle, 1 that you are bound to ordain whosoever may be presented to j a congregation, no matter how the people may resist his in- trusion, has been called rebellion ; but it is no rebellion against “ the powers that he” to maintain an allegiance to the King , of heaven. This, however, is but your dark and cloud day ; soon will the shadows pass away, when your Church shall appear be- fore all her enemies, “ fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners.” You are now in the midst of the storm and the hurricane ; but as, when the tempest has swept away before it the gloom which darkens our hori- son, we sometimes see far away in the distant realms of : space some fleecy cloud sleeping in sunshine and repose, so will your troubles he swept away, and peace, and calm, and prosperity gladden your spirits as you bask in the sunshine of Heaven’s favour, or rejoice in the manifestation of your , Redeemer’s love. The thanks of the Assembly were then voted to the Irish gentlemen, and a deputation appointed to attend the next ordinary meeting of the preshyterian Church in Ireland. Report on the Highlands. Dr Candlish at great length detailed the persecution, the i vexatious and harassing tyranny, with which the adherents of the Free Church had been visited in the county of Suther- ( land, and other neighbouring counties, by refusing to them 1 the exercise of the right of private judgment, and of the liberty to worship God according to their own consciences, none daring to make them afraid, He was followed by Dr M‘Kay of Dunoon, Dr M‘Farlan of Greenock, Mr Car- ment, Dr M‘Donald of Ferrintosh, and others, all of whom concurred in bearing testimony to the religion, piety, and moral good conduct of the inhabitants of these northern i ' counties. This long and interesting report was wound up by Mr Guthrie moving that a collection for the suffering people of Sutherland take place throughout the Church, on the last Sabbath of November ; and at the same time expressing a wish “ that it would be a collection the sound of which would reach the ears of the Duke of Sutherland, and make him to understand that the cause of the people of Sutherland, was the cause of the people of all Scotland.” — The motion was agreed to. Friday , October 20. The Assembly met this morning at eleven o’clock, and was constituted by praise and pi’ayer. At this Sederunt it was agreed to translate Mr Fairbairn from Salton to Dunfermline; to continue Mr M‘Naughtan in his charge at Paisley; and to remove Mr Irving from Abercorn to Falkirk. — The Moderator announced that he had that morning received intelligence that the Mission- aries at the Madras station, had sent in their adherence to the Free Church. Evening Sederunt. The Assembly met at half-past seven. The early part of the evening was occupied by Dr W elsh reading the Report of the Assembly’s Committee on Edu- cation, which was divided into four departments : viz., the j College; Elementary Schools; Sabbath Schools; Musical Education. Upon the first of these, says the Report, — The Committee considered it a high privilege to be able to ap- point, to preside, and to give prelection in theology in the new institution an individual whose name is identified with the Church ; and as J ohn Knox took the lead in the first ; Reformation, Alexander Henderson in the second, Thomas Chalmers stands forth as representative in the third Reform- ation. Dr Welsh was named Professor of Divinity and Church History. Dr Duncan’s unrivalled attainments in Hebrew and Oriental Literature, connected with the rare art of kindling to enthusiasm the grateful student, secured him the nomination to the Hebrew Chair. The general voice of the Church and country indicated Dr Cunningham for a ! fourth Chair ; and the vast learning of Dr Black, his mas- tery over languages, his virtues not less conspicuous than his talents, presented him as a proper person to be called to a Chair — and he was appointed Professor at Aberdeen, where his labours will greatly increase the interests of the Free Church. Mr M‘Donald’s scheme, for raising £50,000 to aid in the erection of 500 schools for the Free Church of Scotland, was thus explained by himself. Each school to be aided to the extent of £100. Plan of Contribution. Class Con. Individ. Con. 500 persons giving Is. to each of 500 schools yields £ 12,500, being £25 0 0 1000 giving 6d 12,500 ... 12 10 9 2000 giving 3d 12,500 ... 6 5 0 6000 giving Id 12,500 ... 2 1 8 9500 giving at the above rates yields .£50,000 Conditions of Subscription. 1. No part of the subscription to he taken up unless the whole £ 50,000 has been obtained. 2. The Subscription to be taken up in instalments, as the schools are built or building, but each individual may have it in his option to extend his Contribution over the space of five years, paying one fifth annually. Deputation to England. Mr Tweedie, as Convener of the Committee on Deputa- tions to England, said, that the Committee had two objects j i in view : first, to mention what had already been done ; and, secondly, to suggest what it may yet he advisable to do. With regard to the past, their reception had been such as to 1 j make it obvious, that the principles of the Free Church had ! already taken a firm hold of their minds, and secured the j cordial approbation of the English Christians. The sum re- alised for the funds of the Church, in consequence of the ! different deputations, it was supposed, might amount to about £20,000. The plan for the future, which might be adopted with ad- vantage, appears to be : — “ First, Sanction generally the division of England into 1 sections or districts, according to the annexed scheme. “ Second, Appoint ministers to visit each of these to ex- | pound the principles and make collections for the funds of the Free Church, according to printed regulations prepared for their guidance ; and, to carry out this proposal, it would he requisite to name a Committee of Assembly to select ministers to go to England. “ Third, Laymen should also he named to accompany the ministers, to proceed with the ministers, or from the Assem- ! bly, to the Churches in England. Mr Edwards, Professor of Theology to the W elsh Calvinis- tic Methodists, was introduced by Mr Begg. The Rev. gent- leman said, he had little to say as to their form of church pol- ity. Their great aim was to bring souls to Christ. But they | j found that they could not effectually unite in that work, or preserve the efficiency of their communion, without paying attention to the character and conduct of their ministers, and the people who composed the association. They formed themselves into small bodies with this object; and, in follow- ing out their plan, they went on till one day they found to their j surprise that they were Presbyterians. This system deve- loped itself naturally into that form of church polity, and they continued to exercise that form still. These people had carried on their labours quietly, perhaps too quietly ; hut they had sent him here, because they had heard of their disputings, and also that God was in the midst of them. And after what he had seen and heard, since he came to that Assembly, might he not take up the words of Nicodemus, : and say — “No man can do the miracles which thou doest I except God were with him.” They heard that Christ was | afflicted in Scotland, and they sent him to visit them. I He left his little flock behind him in Wales, and came to I see the bush that burned in the north part of the island, and yet was not consumed. And he had seen it. He saw it | now before him ; and could almost imagine that from the : midst of the fire came the voice of the Lord God Almighty, | proclaiming, “ I have seen the affliction of my people, j and I have heard their groaning, and am come down to deliver them.” They knew that they were reviled and persecuted, as their own fathers in Wales were, and there- I fore they sympathised with them. One reason why the calumnies of their enemies produced no impression on their | minds was, that the very same accusations were brought ! against Christ himself, and that the same answer which he gave was sufficient for us also — “ My kingdom is not of this world,” Because it was not of this world, it could not inter- fere with the kingdoms of this world, and ought not to he f overned by the kingdoms of this world. This they (the I'ree Church) had said not by words only hut by deeds; and for this they were honoured, by those who sent him, from their inmost souls ; they saw that they had taken the right side — that they stood in the middle -between the living and the dead to stay the plague — the worldly policy and carnal expediency that infested our land. They had taken the field in a great controversy between truth and error, between the Lamb of God and the Man of Sin ; hut truth is great and will prevail. The Moderator, (Dr M‘Farlane,) in name of the As- sembly, then conveyed formally a vote of thanks to Mr Edwards. Saturday , October 21. The Assembly met this day in private. Monday , October 23. The Assembly met to-day, at eleven o’clock, in the East Regent Street Free Church, for private deliberation ; and at one o’clock adjourned to the City Hall — Dr Brown, the Moderator, in the Chair. The two first verses of the fi3rd Psalm were sung, and the Court constituted with the usual devotions. After the Assembly had disposed of some cases of com- peting calls ; vote of thanks to the Members of the House of Commons, and the Marquis of Breadalbane ; a reference from the Presbytery of Dalkeith was taken up, in the case of the Free Congregation of that Town having given a call to a minister of the Irish Presbyterian Church. After a long, but friendly deliberation, in which several of the members delivered their sentiments at great length, it was unanim- ously resolved that : — “ The General Assembly, with every desire to meet the wishes and promote the welfare of the congregation of Dal- keith, decline to entertain their proposal, implying as it does a departure from the rules of the Church, in a particular instance, before the general question which it raises has been fully considered ; and further, the General Assembly, con- sidering the above case, together with the applications of a similar nature from ministers and probationers of other Presbyterian Churches, remit the entire subject to a Com- mittee, with instructions to confer with the said Churches, and report to the general Assembly in May.” Mr Sym of Edinburgh then read the Report of Colonial Committee. | Communication had been opened with the Synods of Can- ada, Miramichi, Nova Scotia, and New South Wales, and I in general with all ministers connected with the Establish- ment in the colonies and in foreign parts, referring to the j J disruption of the Church and the causes which led to it, and I j expressing the unabated interest which this Church took in the spiritual welfare of their countrymen abroad, and their readiness to continue the operations which had hitherto I been carried on, in sending out ministers to destitute local- > ities. On the motion of Dr Buchanan, it was resolved that the thanks of the Assembly should be conveyed, through the Moderator, to Mr Sym and the Committee, for their valu- able and interesting report. Report on Jewish Missions. In absence of Dr Keith, Convener of the Committee, Dr j Candlish, as Convener of the Acting Committee, gave a 1 1 verbal report of the state of the Jewish Mission, since the disruption. After much interesting and encouraging in- formation connected with this important subject, from Dr Candlish and Dr Wilson of Bombay, it was moved by Mr Elder, that the interim report made by the Rev. Dr Cand- lish, on the part of the Committee on the Conversion of the Jews, be approved; that the Assembly have heard with j great joy, and with feelings of unfeigned gratitude to God, of the adherence to the Free Church of all the missionaries the Church of Scotland had sent to seek after the lost sheep of Israel, and of the promptitude and liberality with which the members of the Free Church have supplied the necessary funds for the Jewish scheme; and further, that the thanks of this house he given to the Rev. Dr Keith, Convener of the | Committee, for his great and manifold services to this cause; and that during his absence on the Continent, the Rev. Dr Duncan, professor of Oriental Languages to the Free Church, be appointed to act as Convener pro tempore of the Jewish Committee. Evening Sederunt. The Assembly having been constituted by devotional exercises, — Mr J. W. Hamilton read the Report of Building Com- mittee, which was subdivided into two branches ; viz., — 1 . General State and Prospects of Building Operations, 2. State and Prospects of Central Building Fund. Dr Chalmers read a long and elaborate, but lucid Report from the Financial Committee. Mr Campbell of Monzie then moved the following resolution : — “ The General Assembly having heard the reports of the Building and Financial Committees, given in by their re- spective Conveners, resolved as follows : — “ That the Assembly approve of these reports ; highly commend the wisdom, zeal, and fidelity, which have dis- j tinguished the Building and Financial Committees in pro- j secuting the great work intrusted to their care. “ That they regard with humble and heartfelt gratitude to Almighty God the very encouraging progress already made towards the providing of places of public worship for the numerous adherents of the Free Church of Scotland, and of funds for the sustentation of the ministry. “ That the thanks of this House be given to these Com- mittees, and especially to their respective Conveners, the j Rev. Dr. Chalmers, and to John Hamilton, Esq. “ That the Assembly approve of the regulations and re- solutions agreed to in the Committee of the whole House, ! and now reported, in regard to the administration of the j funds for supplying ordinances, and enact in terms thereof ; and the Assembly return their thanks to the Committee on Regulations, and to Alex. Dunlop, Esq., their Convener.” The Moderator then addressed Dr Chalmers nearly as ' ; follows : — It falls to me to convey to you, Sir, the thanks of this Assembly, but before doing so, I cannot refrain from expressing to you what we have felt in regard to that won- derful and overpowering address you have delivered to us this evening. I wish I could adequately express the feelings I we entertain as to our obligations to you as a Church. Those j feelings are strong and deep, and will be lasting. I am per- J suaded that, long after you shall have gone to your rest, — and while the Church of Scotland, the Free Protesting Church of Scotland exists, and while Scotland exists as a nation, your name will be remembered with gratitude and affection — your name will be coupled with those of Knox, and Melville, and Henderson, and other worthies of former days, who were the props of society and the pillars of our Zion ; and as was said j by your respected colleague the other night, that while Knox j was the author of the First Reformation, and Henderson of j the Second, you may be recognised as founder of the Third, God has endowed you with supereminent talents, and fitted you to fill any situation in life ; hut you have devoted all the energies of your mind to Christ the Lord, and have counted all things hut loss for Christ, and you have held it to be your greatest honour and glory to promote the cause of the i Redeemer in your day and generation, W e mark the wisdom I of God in the instruments he raises up to effect his own pur- ; poses in the world. Instruments are often used by him, which, ! ; according to the estimation of this world, may be supposed j j i 746 APPENDIX. not to be the fittest. He has often “ chosen the weak things j of this world to confound the mighty yet he sometimes : departs from this. Moses, while he was a man of God, was also skilful in all the learning of the Egyptians. Luther I and Knox, while men of eminent piety, were also men of great learning ; and, though the Reformation in their days may be traced so far to the times in which they lived, still it lay with them to stir the embers and fan the flames that had been kindled ; and but for them the cause of the Reformation might have been checked, if not overthrown altogether. At all periods God raises up men of prayer, men of thought, men of foresight, and men of talent, and skill, and fortitude, to carry on his own purposes — to devise, and to plan, and execute for the good of mankind ; and so it is in the present case. Your life has been an invaluable one — full of good | deeds and mighty enterprise. I will not advert to the vari- j ous duties to which you have been called in the providence of God— I will not advert to the eloquence and power with 1 1 which you have addressed the consciences of mankind. ! | Many have been roused by your instrumentality, and many i 1 are now in a better world who can trace the commencement ! J of all their religious feelings, and their being brought to j Christ, to your addresses to their hearts. Through various i struggles have you laboured for the cause of truth, and for the extension of the gospel ; and but your efforts many parts of the j i country would have displayed nothing but a moral wilderness, j And then when our Church stood in need of your aid — when she was in danger — by your voice and pen you pled her cause. You have knocked at the door of the noble and the great, and the senators and statesmen of the land ; and had your i counsels been listened to, happy would it have been for them- selves, and happy for the nation. Forecasting what has taken plac&, you devised that plan now in operation— you were ready with it. It was concocted and fit for acting upon, and by it we trust the Church will be freed from all her difficulties and hardships. But for this we would have been at our wits’ end, like a vessel on the ocean without sail or rudder ; but you have guided her on her course, and she will yet reach the harbour of safety. But, Sir, you cannot for ever be spared — you will retire from your active labours. My dear Sir, our toils will soon be over ; our cares, and tribula- tion, and distresses, will soon come to an end ; and oh, it is a pleasant thing to look beyond the valley of tears, through the mists and the shadows, to that rest which remaineth for the people of God. ’Tis the prayer of the Church — ’tis the prayer of every good man — that every blessing may be your possession which your heart would wish, and that you and yours may be interested in the covenant ratified by the blood of Christ, and in all things well ordered and sure — that your end may be peaceful, and that your after state may be happi- ness. May the Lord bless you and keep you, and cause the light of his countenance to shine upon you. The Moderator, then turning to Mr Hamilton, begged him to consider what had been addressed to Dr Chalmers as addressed also to him, in so far as, considering his exertion and position, it could be held to apply. If the Church had been indebted to him for nothing more than the distinct and valuable communication which had been brought under their notice that night, he was well entitled to their thanks ; but they knew well, also, with what power, wisdom, and skill, he had at all times pled the cause of the Church, and he was sure the Assembly joined him in the prayer that he might be long and abundantly blessed in any sphere in which the providence of God might place him. The Assembly then adjourned at twelve o’clock. Tuesday , October 24. The Assembly met at eleven o’clock, and was constituted by praise and prayer. Report on Election of Office-bearers. Dr Cunningham read the Report on Election of Office- bearers, after he had finished, a short but smart debate took place upon the point, “ ought females to have a right to vote in the election of Office-bearers The question was, how- ever, left open, and the following decision was unanimously come to by the Assembly: — “ The Assembly generally approve of the report. — Direct it to be remitted to Presbyteries, that they may send up their opinion thereon to next General Assembly, and enact ad interim in terms thereof.” Call to the Rev. Mr Guthrie. The Assembly next took up the case of a call to Mr Guthrie of Edinburgh from the congregation now forming in connexion with the Free Church, in Edward Street, Portman Square, London. After having duly considered the prayer of the petition, and a letter thereanent from the Rev. Thomas Guthrie, and heard commissioners from his congregation and kirk-session, the General Assembly did not feel themselves warranted to order his translation from his present charge, as prayed for in the London Memorial. Deputation from the London Presbytery. The Assembly then received the deputation from the London Presbytery, from which an address was read, expres- sive of their sympathy in the principles and contendings of the Free Church. After which the General Assembly ac- knowledged with heartfelt gratitude, the expression of sym- pathy on the part of their brethren in London, report their earnest anxiety for the full supply of Christian ordinances in the metropolis in connexion with the Free Church, and request their Moderator to convey the thanks of the House to the members of the deputation. Missionary Presbyteries. Mr Alexander Dunlop called attention to a proposal which was brought before the Assembly by the Committee on Foreign Missions, with Dr. Gordon at their head, in reference to the exercise of presbyterial functions by the foreign mis- sionaries. The motion was unanimously agreed to. Sabbath Observance. Mr Fairbaim of Salton read an interesting report of the Sabbath Observance Committee : — Mr Macfarlan of Renfrew moved the adoption of the re- port, and expressed his regret that it had been brought up on the last day of the Assembly. He only wished to state, in a single sentence, that he approved of the entire report. Collections for Suthe rlandshire , S[c. A Committee was appointed to carry out the Hon. Fox Maule’s resolutions, and to prepare an address in reference to the collections to be made for the people of Sutherland. A Committee was farther appointed to consider and report to next Assembly, recommending such alterations as may appear to be necessary in the standing orders of the House, and in the form of procedure now in use in the different courts of the Church ; with instructions also to make such alterations in the formula as the altered circumstances of the Church seem to require. The amended formula, after being approved of by the Commission of Assembly, to be trans- mitted to the inferior judicatories. A Committee was also appointed to draw up a Testimony by the Church, stating the grounds of its separation from the Establishment. Deputations were appointed to the Irish Assembly, Re- formed Presbyterian Synod, United Secession Synod, &c. Bicentenary of Westminster Assembly. Dr. Candlish reported verbally from the Committee ap- pointed at last Assembly to make arrangements for the com- memoration of the Westminster Assembly. On this occa- sion he said, I have simply to state that the meeting did not pass away without some practical effect. A Committee was appointed to consider how the object of co-operation among evangelical Christians could be best promoted.— Another object to which he called the attention of the Assembly, was the prosecution of the cause of education. This subject has been repeatedly before the Committee, and certainly it does seem a subject which may unite all ranks and classes of evangelical Christians in one united effort. Accordingly, a plan has already been proposed, so far as Edinburgh is con- cerned, for establishing schools throughout that city, in con- nexion with the associated evangelical communions ; — schools which will be open to all evangelical teachers and scholars, and in which the standards held by evangelical Christians shall be carefully taught. In particular, we have been anxious to support and maintain an effective Normal School in Edinburgh. The Assembly is aware, through the Report of the Educational Committee, that the Normal Sem- inary has been virtually transferred from the Established to the Free Church. I say the Normal Seminary, for I take the APPENDIX. 747 school, to consist not of the building, but the master and the scholars. The building remains with the Establishment ; but the building is not the school, any more than the stone and lime will constitute the church. The real school is where the master and scholars are found, and these are found in the spacious apartments provided by the Free Church. These regulations were submitted to the United Secession Synod, and substantially received their concurrence. We may re- joice, therefore, in the hope that we and the other Churches with which we are now in communion will be enabled to act on this system of planting churches so as to prevent mis- understanding and collision, and promote brotherly love and brotherly intercourse. I am glad to intimate that two Committees have been appointed by the United Secession Church, one to sit iii Edinburgh and one in Glasgow, for the purpose of holding converse with our Committee on Educa- tion or other Committees of our Assembly, with regard to the objects in which we can co-operate. We cannot be behind-hand with our brethren of that Church. We should rejoice to meet their advances, and without any sacrifice of our principles, agree to promote along with them these great objects of Christian usefulness. I cannot doubt but you will appoint a Committee to meet with them, and with other churches that may be desirous of holding intercourse with them, for the good of our common country and the advance- ment of our common Christianity. The motion was unanimously and cordially agreed to. The Assembly then adjourned till the evening. Evening Sederunt. The Building Fund. $c. j Dr Chalmers rose and shortly explained his new scheme ! for raising funds for building churches. On the motion of i Dr Chalmers it was also agreed to appoint a large committee, j to be named the Finance Committee, which was to take | charge of all the money received for the Free Church. ! The Rev. J. C. Brown, of Edinburgh read the Report of the Home Mission Committee ; Dr M‘Kay gave in the Report of the Gaelic Committee; and Dr Candlish submitted the Report of the Acting Committee. Dr M‘ Donald moved the adoption of all these Reports, and was ready to acquiesce in every sentiment they contained. Dr M‘ Far lane, Modera- tor pro tem. then tendered the thanks of the Assembly to these gentlemen for the labour and attention they had be- stowed on the Reports. They could see in all this the fulfil- ment of God’s promise to his people, — “ As thy day is so shall thy strength be.” In the schedule of Churches in the j Report on the table, they saw the fruits which five months only had produced ; and when they looked at the increase, they were constrained to say, — “ The Lord is with us, it is the Lord’s doing.” Close of the Assembly. | Mr Dunlop said — Moderator — I beg to propose that the J next meeting of the Assembly be held in Edinburgh on Thurs- j day, the 16th of May next. The proposition was cordially agreed to. The Moderator, Dr Brown, then said, — Reverend fathers and brethren — The important business of this Assembly is now brought to a close ; and before it is dissolved, and ere we separate, and depart to our different homes and respective spheres of duty, it becomes me, according to usual custom, to address to you a few parting words. We came together not for the purpose of laying any new platform, or erecting a new ecclesiastical structure, but for ! the purpose of adhibiting those adminicles that may render that structure more stable and permanent, and presenting it , to the eye of the beholder in all its native beauty, in all its J pristine loveliness, in all its original strength. We assembled j to give effect to our 'original laws and regulations for the maintenance of the Church’s existence and purity — to adopt | resolutions for meeting the new and unprecedented circum- stances in which we have been placed — to devise measures i for the more extensive diffusion of divine truth, “ that the ! law might go forth of Zion more widely, that the word of the Lord might be proclaimed more loudly from Jerusalem” —the grand purpose for which a visible Church has been in- stituted, and for which it is allowed to exist. We came to- gether to deliberate as to the internal regulations of the house of God — not to legislate about forms and ceremonies, and the priest’s vestments, but to direct, countenance, and en- courage and strengthen the hands of the man of God in the execution of his trust of awful importance ; while we have been careful to have respect to, and secure, the Christian people’s dearest privileges, and to promote their best interests. We assembled together also to sanction and carry forward those plans that have been adopted, and, blessed be God, pursued with so much success, and to devise new measures for the outward maintenance of the Church, for the erection of sanc- tuaries throughout the land, and for the sustentation of those ministers who now occupy, or may be called in providence to occupy them in after days and coming years. We came together, not to provide for the present emergency merely, and for ourselves alone — we have taken a wider range as to time and men. Looking through the vista of time, bring- ing before our minds, and bearing on our heart generations yet unborn (although God only knows what the purposes of God, for weal or for woe, may be in regard to ourselves, in regard to our Church, in regard to our nation), but remember- ing that the word of God endureth for ever — that Christ shall have a seed to serve him while sun and moon endure — and recollecting that present duty is ours, we have assembled to deliberate, to devise, in God’s strength, for the behoof of children’s children, in God’s name to lay the foundation of that scheme by which the Divine glory may be promoted, and Christ’s kingdom advanced, by which, through the length and breadth of the land, the gospel may be published, and its ordinances dispensed in purity, and its ministers sustained in comfort ; that, when we and this generation shall have passed away, and been carried to our fathers, while Scotland exists as a nation, the memory of this Assembly may not be for- gotten, and its proceedings and its provisions may be looked back to by God’s people in another age, with gratitude to God, and with thankfulness for those instruments whom he in his providence raised up for their benefit. And gladly would we hope that in these respects we have succeeded, through God’s blessing upon us. While we look not to our- selves, and would ever bear in mind that the wisdom of man is foolishness, and the strength of man is weakness, yet in weighty deliberations we have been engaged, wise resolutions have been formed, and salutary regulations have been passed, all bearing upon the purity, the stability, the permanence of the Church. And, withal, there has been in this Assembly a wisdom, a prudence, a skill, a zeal, a forethought, a pains- taking, a union, and harmony, and kindliness of feeling, amidst the variety and multiplicity of objects that have en- gaged our attention — all combined with and sanctified by a spirit of piety and prayer that has rarely been witnessed, and which enables us to thank God and take courage. Yes, I congratulate you, and give God thanks for that solemnity of feeling, that prayerfulness of spirit, that unity of sentiment, that harmony of love, that have pervaded this whole Assem- bly, and being mixed up with all our deliberations. It has been truly a Christian convocation, not unworthy of being named in connexion with that great Assembly to which I adverted in the outset. At our last Assembly we purposed making the whole of Scotland a field for missionary enterprise ; we purposed that our labours should be co-extensive with Scotland’s limits and Scotland’s necessities, and the pledge has been redeemed. I will venture to say, that the gospel never was so fully, and freely, and extensively, and faithfully preached in Scotland, since Scotland was a nation, and it has been during the last few summer months. Our ministers and preachers have been itinerating with apostolic zeal, from the Shetland and Ork- ney Isles to the Solway Firth. In former times, we did know the grievous destitution under which many districts la- boured for lack of the bread of life. This arose not merely from want of labourers, but from the want of faithful labourers. Many parishes, through neglect, or worse than neglect, were absolutely moral deserts. And, notwithstanding all the des- titution, and our knowledge of it, we could not, we dared not to send them relief. A line of circumvallation as a Chinese wall encircled them, which we dared not to approach — we might look over it, but we must not venture to break it down. I do not say that in many cases this might not be proper, and that every labourer ought to have his own vineyard, but it will not apply universally. The Church is bound to see that every man does his duty, and not to allow sinners to die in their sins through the carelessness, or otherwise, of the accre- dited and hedged-in labourer. It was truly painful for a faithful ambassador of Christ, to know of souls perishing in ignorance and in error, and yet not dare on any account to cross the defined limit, to proclaim his Lord’s message, and j ! [ APPENDIX. 748 to point to the way of salvation, by the blood of the cross. J But this state of things no longer prevails. These barriers ! have been removed and swept away. Our ministers, under j the direction of their respeetive Presbyteries, have gone forth I and scattered the seed of the Word in every corner. They j have preached by the sea shore, or the river’s brink, or the | retired glen, or the mountain side, and in many instances with powerful and blessed effect. In many of the districts I which they visited, the doctrine which they preached, or S their mode of preaching it, was new : in many corners the j cold, chilling, at best but moral disquisitions and addresses, j issuing from many pulpits (we make exceptions), had in- I duced an apathetic indifference to the things of God and eter- ! nity ; but the soul-melting heart-subduing strains of the gos- ; pel, accompained by stirring appeals to the conscience, I j aroused, and captivated, and enchained many. Many a \ j parched spot has thus been watered and refreshed, and many j a soul, we doubt not, has been brought to the knowledge of the truth, and won to the Saviour. Had no other good effects flowed from the disruption, this of itself is a blessed consum- mation, proving that God can and will bring good out of evil ; for oh, what are all our movements to be directed to ? what are we to covet, what are, we to sigh for, but that a I people may be gained unto the Lord, and brands plucked ) from the everlasting burning ? And as a consequence of this, the number of adherents to the Free Church has been vastly increased. In preaching Christ there was a necessity for preaching him fully, preaching him as the King of Zion, the sole Head of his Church — the Ruler in his own house, and this led naturally and necessarily to the subject of controversy : and thus many hearing what had never reached their ears be- fore, they were led to think, and reflect, and compare, and judge, and chose : and thus, from being ignorant, have re- ceived light, from being indifferent, have been aroused, ay, from being inimical, have become warm friends ; and the cry from every quarter is, “ Come and help us,” Thus in many Presbyteries where the adhering ministers were few, the ad- hering congregations have more then doubled, so that, as I said, it is a national Church for which we are called to pro- vide. The whole history of this controversy and its results ! have led us to see, that if men are open to conviction, and I enlightened in the merits of the question, if they are not j armed with prejudice, led away by party spirit, or influenced j by carnal policy or views of expediency, whenever they take the Bible in their hands, and the standards of the Church in ! their hands, and'listen to their decisions, they must perceive I I that truth, and equity, and reason lie with us ; that wfiat the I j Church demanded, and civil authority refused, was nothing | j more than what was righteously claimed, and ought to have ; j been readily granted. j What the Lord may have in store for us in after days, for ! j weal or for woe, He only knows who sees the end from i the beginning. For anything that we know, our difficulties ! i and trials may be only in the commencement. We know that after the last General Assembly in Glasgow, though the Church triumphed, though they had to pass through a great fight of afflictions, and the fires of persecution began tobe lighted up and to blaze with greater fury ; whether this may be the case with us we cannot tell. God alone knows. This we can \ say, that at this hour there is struggle going on betwixt the j Prince of Light and the Prince of Darkness. The enemy of j God and the souls of men may be mustering and marshalling i his hosts with greater intensity and in greater force than ever. We know, however, who shall ultimately prevail. I The Captain of our Salvation holds in perfect contempt the united powers and efforts of earth and hell against His cause and people, whom he identifies with himself. Brethren, look to Him, trust to Him, stay your souls on Him, take Him as your refuge and stay, “ count it all joy when you fall into divers trials, and rejoice that to you it is given, in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but to suffer for His sake.” Remember you are called to show how a Christian can endure as well as enjoy — how a Christian can fight as j well as triumph. Oh, be ye ensamples to the believers in everything — disarm those who are without by your meek- ness of wisdom — urge upon your people, as I am persuaded ; you feel inclined to do, the respect that is due to all righteous j authority. Though they may be blind, be not ye disaffected ; ; let us be obedient for conscience’ sake. A dark cloud may yet continue to hang over us which has not yet been dissipated ; but methinks I see the bow in the cloud proclaiming All is well. Fear not, Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might ; “ your God shall supply j all your need, according to his riches in glory by Christ J esus.” I Brethren, farewell. We have had sweet counsel together, j Never, never shall we all meet again, and see each other in the j face here below. The grey hairs and tottering frames of some 1 of us tell that our glass is nearly run; and the youngest and most j vigorous are just as insecure as the aged and most enfeebled. We have all of us our race to run ; and oh ! if we meet before the throne at last and unite with the redeemed there, it is im- material at what period or hour we are summoned hence — immaterial whether we meet again in the wilderness here below or not, I pray that from the Church below we may be all called (not one amissing) to join the General Assembly and Church of the first -born. The Lord bless | you and keep you ; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you ; the Lord lift on you the light of his countenance, and give you peace. And as we met in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, the great and sole Head and King of the Church, so in the same great and glorious name, we dissolve this Assembly, and appoint our next meeting to be holden at Edinburgh, on Thursday the 16th day of May next. The Assembly then sung the last three verses of the 122d Psalm, and, after the benediction separated — at two o’clock on Wednesday morning. THE END, ! GLASGOW PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, BY EDWARD KIITJLL. - 115342187