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^^^ - \.M ■'
S.^f^S WORTHIES;^
(^•)»»Jii.H«J CONTAINING
A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT
OF THE MOST
€initirat llnhlraim, Cfntlmra, JHinisttrB, u\ ntljtrs,
WHO TESTIFIED OR SUFFERED FOR THE CAUSE OF REFORMATION
IN SCOTLAND FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH
CENTURY TO THE YEAR 1688.
BY JOHN HOWIE, OF LOCHGOIN,
-; ■ m4 ^'^ I L L I^ S T R A T E D . ^ ff | --
(Iff
p NEW YOKK:
EGBERT CAIITER AJS'D BROTHERS,
No. 28 5 B R O A D W A Y .
1853.
H
CONTENTS.
LiFK OF John Howie,
Introduction.
Memoirs.
I'atrick Hamilton,
George Wishart,
Adam Wallace, -
Walter Mill,
Tames Stuart, Earl of Moray,
John Knox, -
(Teorge Buchanan,
John Erskine of Dun, -
Tiobert Rollock, -
John Craig,
David Black,
Tohi! Davidson,
Andrew Melville,
William Row,
Patrick Simpson,
Andrew Duncan,
John Scrimgeour
John Welch,
Robert Boyd,
Robert Bruce,
Josjas Welch,
John Gordon, Viscount Kenmure,
Robert Cunningham,
James Mitchell,
Alexander Henderson,
(leorge Gillespie,
John M'Clelland,
David Calderwood,
Hugh Binning,
Andrew Gray,
James Durham, -
Samuel Rutherford,
Archibald Campbell, Marquis of Argyle,
James Guthrie,
Page
vii
17
William Govan, - - .
John Campbell, Earl of Loudon,
Robert Baillie, -
Page
411
412
419
David Dickson,
-
421
Sir Archibald Johnston, Lord Warriston
James Wood,
426
432
William Guthrie,
-
434
- 25
33
- 56
61
- 73
103
Robert Blair,
Hugh M'Kail, -
John Nevay,
John Livingstone,
John Semple,
James Mitchell, -
-
443
452
461
463
470
472
194
Colonel James Wallace,
481
212
John Welwood, -
,
487
- 225
William Gordon of Earlstoun,
491
227
John King and John Kid, -
-
494
- 230
John Brown,
497
233
Henry Hall of Haugh-bead,
-
501
- 239
Richard Cameron,
503
278
David Hackstdn of Rathillet,
,
510
- 281
Robert Ker of Kersland,
514
288
- 291
Donald Cargill, -
Walter Smith,
-
516
525
294
Robert Garnock,
-
528
- 309
Robert Mac Ward,
539
320
- 329^
Captain John Pa ton,
Robert Baillie of Jerviswood,
-
545
554
330
John Brown of Priesthill, -
-
55S
- 343 ,
John Nisbet of Hardhill,
.
566
345
Alexander Peden,
-
574
- 349
John Blackadder,
-
582
364 '
James Renwick,
-
590
- 368
Account of the Rising which ended in
370.
the defeat at Pentland. Anno 1666.
600
- 374
Account of the Rising which originated
380
the Battle of Drumclog, and
^nded in
- 383 I
defeat at Both well Bridge.
Anno
389
1679,
610
rgyle, 398
Account of the Skirmish at A
irsmoss,
405
] 680,
-
631
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
OF
JOHN HOWIE.
Before entering upon the following brief Memoir of one who has contributed
more to the biographical information of the Scottish peasantry than authors of
greater celebrity, it may not be uninteresting to delineate the site of his humble
dwelling-place, which was so often the rendezvous and retreat 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, 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 attractions more omnipotent over the associations of every Scottish
Presbyterian, than the turreted remains of the baronial castle, whose most stren-
uous 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 notice 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 beau-
tifully 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
Craig, although removed to a much greater distance, are distinctly visible. On
the south, the prospect is terminated by the blue hills of Carrick, and the far
viii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE.
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, tlie verdant Ochils beyond Stirling,
and the less lofty, though not less beautiful, hills of Campsie complete the cir-
cumference.
Within this vast barrier, the whole seems but one misty waste of moor, where
scarcely any human habitation is visible, save the slioplierd's cot ; and where no
sound is to be heard but the voice of the shepherd himself directing his faithful
dog ; the bleating of the sheep and the cry of the featliered foreigners that have
fled for a time from the regions of a more inclement sky, until winter once more
compels thera 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 Ayi-shire, contiguous 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 Cove-
nanters 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 distant 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 of the
Campbells, marked out by the tops of the many woods in which it is imbosoraed ;
and just beyond the environs is Ilardhill, 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 martyi-s 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 outhne of Lochgoin, the
residence 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 Waldenses 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, sur-
named Howie, took up their residence in the west of Scotland ; one in the parish
of Meams ; 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 receives 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 lleformation, we find their posterity adhering boldly
to the cause of Protestantism, a circumstance which renders it highly probable
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE.
IX.
that, notwithstanding the proselytizing spirit of the age in which they hved, the
humble occupants of Lochgoin had never swerved from the faith of their fathers.
It was not, however, till the period of the second Reformation, that the Howies
were brought into prominent notice, by becoming sufferei's for the truth. Nor
were these sufferings of a trivial nature. Lochgoin, as the reader has already
seen, being pecuharly favourable for concealment, had often afforded an asylum to
the harrassed Covenanters when flying from their ruthless pei-secutors ; and thus
the inmates themselves became also the objects of the most rigorous oppression.
Not only were they twelve diflferent times subjected to confiscation of property ;
but, upon one occasion, their cattle were driven to the market-cross of Kilmar-
nock 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 mooi-s.
John Howie, the subject of this memoir, who has given so much additional
celebrity to the family, was born at Lochgoin on the 14th November, 1735.
His father, John Howie also, dying suddenly when our biographer was only about
a year old, the child was removed to Blackhill, a farm in the parish of Kilmar-
nock, at that time the residence of his maternal grandparents, who took upon
themselves the charge of his education. Being pious and intelligent, the advan-
tages which the youth derived, both from their tuition and example, were invalu-
able. 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 neighborhood ; 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 John Howie
possessed hardly an ordinary education, and that his youthful years were devoted
chiefly to the customary sports and recreation of the neighbourhood where he had
been brought up — contrast the advances in religious knowledge and information
which, by his own unaided exertions, he made in his youth, and at a subsequent
period of his life, with the usual amount of intelHgence 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 hfe of this remarkable man was his connubial
union with a pei-son of the name of Lindsay, who, however, did not long survive
the nuptials ; for, falling into consumption, 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 represented as having been singularly
eminent for piety, and in evQry 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 fii-st marriage he entered to the farm of Lochgoin, which, from the
X BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE.
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 ; >iz. church history, and religious biogi-aphy. 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 account 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 number 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
motives were ingenuous, out of love to them and their contendings, or cause they
contended for, and the Lord determined that they both should be published, 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 morn-
ing, one morning my wife, who was not without an inclination to religion, being
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 ! Im-
mediately these words came into her mind, Mark vii. 37; 'He hath done ail
things well ; he maketh the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak ;' after which she
durst never again speak against it."
Though, however, no other pei-son appears to have had the courage to under-
take the subject, we believe that John Howie, while employed at his literary
labours, was the subject of considerable animadversion among many of his neigh-
bours, who were but ill able to appreciate the worth of his intellectual pursuits.
As might have been expected, he was accused of indolence ; inasmuch as, while
engaged in what appeared to them a profitless concern, he was neglecting his
worldly int-erests, by not attending more assiduously to the cultivation of his farm.
It was particulariy observed during the hay season, that though the good man
would at intervals lay aside his books, step out to the field, and for a short time
put on an air of extreme bustle and activity, yet it was soon over ; so that among
the more euleat^ (diligent,) of his professional brethren he never acquired a character
for steady and enduring labour. To a certain extent these observations might be
perhajw true ; but when we consider the immense service he was at that very time
rendering to the church, to the cause of presbytery, and to posterity, we cannot
join in the cry of censure ; 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 biographer to a different cause. It
was well known that Mr. Howie, who died at a comparatively early age, was never
a man of robust constitution. Symptoms of physical debihty 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 perusing his
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. xi
diary we find frequent allusions to a variety of Ailments with whicli 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 moorland farmers was, the number of visi-
tors who came to wait upon him at Lochgoin. These, attracted by the fame of
his hterary pureuits, were exceedingly numerous, and composed of all classes in
the rehgious world.
Since we have gone thus far, however, in endeavouring to account for his gene-
ral character as a farmer, it would be unfair not to state distinctly, that he evinced
great anxiety for the temporal welfare of his numerous family. So far, indeed,
was he from being indifferent to worldly matters, that, upon perusing his diary,
we find him repeatedly accusing himself of carrying the principle of parental anxiety
to a length bordering on criminality.
The life of a moorland farmer, even although combined with that of literary
pui-suits, cannot be supposed to furnish any great variety of adventure or incident ;
still such a life is not without its interest. The circumstance of Mr Howie rising
soon after cock-crowing, for the purpose of engaging in severe and not very invit-
ing study before commencing 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, perhaps barefooted, into the wide and trackless mooi',
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 altogether 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
man'iage, we shall find that they must have continued, with but little intermis-
sion, until the day of his death. The " Scots Worthies" itself is a work of no
inconsiderable labour ; for though the biographical information he had procured,
and with which his powerful memory was richly stored, must have greatly facili-
tated the task ; yet, living remote from cities, and almost shut out from the
abodes of civilized hfe, the difliculty of correspondence, and the want of books,
must have tended not a httle to render his task both painful and irksome*
Under all these disadvantages, however, did Mr. Howie, in the seclusion oF Loch-
goin, bring the work to a successful termination. The first edition appeared ui
1774 ; and a second, greatly enlarged, in 1785. Like the " Pilgrim's Progress,"
it has been long so extensively popular with all classes of the community, that it
has secured for itself a position from which it will never be dislodged, so long as
Presbyterianism, and a religious attachment to the covenanted work of Reforma-
tion, 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
yeai-s we look back upon the impressions then produced, and wonder whether
they may have been created by the reahties of truth.
xii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE.
Besides the " Scots Worthies," Mr. Howie produced a number of other works,
which, though not so generally known, are still not without a tolerable share of
ineriL These were, fii-st, a collection of " Lectures and Sermons" by some of the
most eminent ministere, 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.
Thb work is introduced by a preface of his own composition. Ilis second work
WK " 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 Displayed ;" being an account of the suffering
remnant of the Church of Scotland, from 1681 till 1691. This was neither
more nor less than a transcription from a record kept by a pei*son of the name of
Michael Shields, clerk to the Societies, to which Mr. Howie prefixed a preface,
jind added an api>endix with notes. His fourth Essay w^ " Faithful Witness-
bearing Exemphfied ;" consisting of the following divisions : — 1. Useful Cases of
Conscience. 2. A Testimony against Toleration by the Commission of the Gen-
eral 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 Vindication of the mode
of handling the Elements in the Lord's Supper before giving thanks," written at
the time when the controverey took place on this subject 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 Presbyteiy,
legarding Civil Government. His eighth — and the last production 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 instruct all who had a desire for
religious knowledge. To young men, especially, he was particularly attentive.
An individual, still afive, lately informed the writer, that in his youth he made
one of a party who waited upon our biographer for instruction ; and was deeply
impressed with Mr. Howie's extremely judicious method of conveying religious
information to the young. He usually commenced with some simple or even
humorous subject, which had always the effect of banishing that restraint from
the mind of his auditors which the eclat of his piety and talent naturally tended
to produce. Having accomplished this, he immediately availed himself of the
opportunity to communicate information of the most solid, pious, and edifying
nature. From a choice library, too, of several hundred volumes, he gave them
liberty to select whatever book they chose. " On such occasions," states our
informant, "so eager was he to do good, that, not content with conversing freely
within doors, he would accompany us miles across the moor, urging home upon
our minds, amidst all our other assiduities, the importance of attention to personal
piety, the one thing needful." He was ever ready to comply with the request of
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. xiii
such as wished for his rehgious advice or prayei-s for themselves or their sick
friends. Although this was frequently attended with much inconvenience and
fatigue — having to travel several miles before he could reach the abode of any
of his neighbors, either in the parish of Eaglesham or that of Mearns — yet he
never complained. One night of eveiy week was regularly set apart for meeting
with some of his pious neighbors, for the purpose of religious fellowship and
social prayer ; a practice which we feel happy to say, of late years has been
greatly revived in all parts of Scotland.
Although Mr. Howie was thus devoted to books, and lived " far retired from
men," the reader will form a very false idea, if he suppose him to have spent the
life of a recluse. On the contrary, at all the surrrounding fairs and markets,
John Howie was to be found bustling and bargaining with the men of the world.
He was indeed a marked character, 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 personal
appearance behe 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 acquaint-
ances ; nevertheless, he was a paragon of humility ; pride having no seat in his
breast. He was remarkably attentive to neatness in dress, and seldom walked
abroad without his silver-mounted staflf. "Wherever he went he was received with
respect; and his approach to either kirk or market was made known by the cir-
culating 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 fervor ; the
latter sometimes producing an excitement bordering on enthusiasm ; the former,
not unfrequently generating a feeling analogous to despondency. 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 observa-
tion its influence upon his future hfe ; and, when he could trace an increasing love
to his God and Sa\aour, 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 despicable life, I find it altogether
made up of deficiencies, faults, and imperfections ; my disposition was somewhat
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 summary 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
Xiv BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE.
oi>en vision, wliere all the graces must give place to love and wonder. The great
volume of God's creation, word and providence, must be folded up, and the
heavens deport 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
U an eternal freedom from the very indwell of it. Here there is only a deliver-
ance from Satan; but there shall be a freedom from all his temptations. It is
only there that by grace we shall be raised to perfection. Here affliction is only
sanctified to us ; but there will be a deliverance from all trouble, with the sancti-
6ed fruits of it Ibrever. And here He only supports us from the feai-s of death ;
but there He shall set us beyond the reach of death, and we shall die no moro
— * Because I live ye shall live also.* There we shall be admitted into the com-
pany 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
Uini — one glance of whose glorious and beautiful face shall make all sighing and
sorrow for ever to fly awav."
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 of 1791, that
his infirmities began seriously to alarm his friends. About that time he had a
severe attack of rheumatism, which, after traversing almost every part of his
body, finally settled down in his left knee, and confined him entirely to his apart-
ment, suflfering frequently the most gnawing and excrutiating 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 disordei-s began to show
themselves, to the renewed anxiety and grief of his friends, who now began to
look upon his recovery as almost hopeless. During the whole of that trying
period he exhibited all that Christian resignation and submission to the divine
will, which the consistency of his conduct, during the whole of his previous life,
might have led one to anticipate. His maladies, however, continuing to increase,
as a last resource he was, in the month of July, conveyed back to Saltcoats, to
try anew the efiicacy of sea-bathing. But the second experiment had no more
salutary efiects than the fii-st ; and, after remaining two weeks, he returned to his
cottnge, 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 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 constitution, however, warded off
the fatal consequences of the distemper in them all, except his eldest son, John,
who fell a victim to the relentless destroyer, after fourteen days of severe suffer-
ing. On the morning of the young man's death, which was on a Tuesday, Mre.
flowie entered her husband's apartment, in teai-s, and requested his presence in
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWIE. XV
the chamber of the dying youth, whose spirit was just about to take its flight to
a hoUer region. The old man was now so weak, that he was for the most part
confined to bed ; but when he heard the unexpected tidings, he raised himself on
his elbow, and for a little seemed to doubt its veracity. Being soon assured,
however, that his wife's feai-s were too well founded, he was prevailed upon to
dress himself ; and, assisted by his 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," ho lost no time
in engaging in deep and fervent prayer. It was a solemn and affecting sight, to
behold the aged man, pale and emaciated, bending over the death-bed of a son in
the bloom of youth, who had given promise of a vigorous manhood, cut down
and taking his departure before him, that he might be ready to welcome him
into the land of bliss. After prayer, he began to touch a tender string, and to
inquire into the state of the young man's soul ; if he had any valid hopes of
his eternal well-being ; 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 expressive ray from his fast dimming eye, gave pleasing indica-
tion that all was well.
Lochgoin was powerfully affected upon the occasion ; 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 consolation 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 reconducted 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 him-
self, and convened with such friends as came to attend the funeral ; but, sup-
ported 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 ofiice. 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.
THE LIVES
OP
THE SCOTS ¥OETHIES
INTRODUCTION.
Cheistianity 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 Panl preached the gospel in this
part of the world ; but as this opinion is not supported on proper
authority, it merits only the regard due to conjecture, not the
attention which an undoubted narrative demands. Another, and
more probable account is, that during the persecution raised by
Domitian, (the twelfth and last Csesar, 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 depended 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 Christianity, 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 to which the Jews so often
revolted. These Druids likewise possessed a considerable share
of civil power, which made it a difficult task to establish a religion so-
opposite to, and subversive of, their own : but the difiiculties 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 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 beginning
of the fourth century, there was a gradual increase of the true
2
18 SCOTS WORTHIES.
knowledge of God and religion. Tliat persecution became so Lot in
the southern parts of Britain, as to drive many, both preachers and
professors, into Scotland, wliere they were kindly received, and had
tlie Isle of Man, then in possession of the Scots, given them for their
residence, and a sufficient maintenance assigned them. King Crati-
linth built a church for them, which was called the church of
our Saviour, in the Greek cTwr?/p, and is now, by corruption,
SoDOR, in Icolmkill, one of the western isles. These men were not
employed, like the Druidical priests in whose place they had come,
in settling the worldly aftairs of men, but gave themselves w^holly to
divine services, instructing the ignorant, comforting the weak,
administering the sacraments, and training up disciples to the same
services.
Whether these refugees were the ancient Culdees, or a different
set of men, it is neither easy nor material to determine. Some
profess to trace Culdeeism to the primitive ages of Christianity, while
othei-s 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 fiovaxot, or monks, from the
secluded religious lives w^iich they led ; and the cells into which
they had retired, were, after their deaths, mostly converted into
churches, which to this day retain their names, as Cell, or Ivell, or
church of Marnock; Kil-Patrick, Kil-Malcom, &c. Opposed to
papal supremacy in ' unyielding resistance, they differed from the
votaries of the Eomish church, not only in their rigid adherence 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 fellowmen, — bearing
not the trials and vicissitudes of life, or sharing its joys ; confining
that love which they owed to the human family within the limited
circle of a monastic fraternit}^ or seeking the aggrandizement of the
order to which they belonged, the Culdees, like Paul, laboured for
their 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 discharged his duty properly : but these
men were utter strangers to the lordly power oi* the modern prelate,
having no proper diocese, and only a temporary superintendency,
with which they were invested by their brethren, and to whom they
were accountable. 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 Fincormac, 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 Rjman pnefect, stirred up the Picts to aid him against the Scots,
who were totally defeated ; their king, Ewing, with most part of the
nobility being slain. This bloody battle was fought about the year
380, at the water of Doon, in Carrick. This overthrow was inirae-
INTRODUCTION. 19
diately succeeded by an edict commanding all the Scots, without ex-
ception, 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 Korway, except a few ecclesiastics who wandered
about from place to place.
After an exile of forty-four, or, according to Buchanan, twenty-seven
years, which the Scots endured, the Picts became sensible of their
error in assisting the Romans against them, and accordingly strength-
ened 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 home. Their king was crowned with the
usual rights in his own country, and the news of his success drew
great numbers to him ; insomuch that he recovered all the country
out of which the Scots had been expelled. Most of the foreign
forces returned home, except the Irish, who received the country of
Galloway for their reward. This successful 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
tranquillity was again interrupted by a more formidable enemy than
before. The Pelagian heresy had now gained considerable ground
in Britain : it is so called from Pelagius, a monk at Rome. Its chief
articles are, 1. That original sin is not inherent. 2. That faith is a
thing natural. 3. That good works done by our own strength, of our
own free-will, are agreeable to the law of God, and worthy of heaven.
Whether all or only part of these errors then infected the Scottish
church, is uncertain ; but Celestine, then bishop of Rome, embraced
this opportunity to send Palladius among them, who, joining with the
orthodox of south Britain, restored peace to that part of the church,
by suppressing the heresy. Eugenius the Second, being desirous that
this church should likewise be purged 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 Scotland, and succeeded so effectually in his commission, 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 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 com-
ing 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. "f Tradition affirms that the shire of Kin-
* Vide Bede's Eccles. Hist. lib. i. ch. 13. Buchanan Hist, book v.
^ Rook iii. chap. 8.
^ SCOTS WORTfflES.
cardine was the scene of his residence and labours ; the place whert
his asiies are said to repose being still marked by the ruins of a chapel
bearing his name.
But while we may consider him as having opened that intercourse
which gradually obtained more and more between Scotland and
Rome, yet we arc 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 supe-
riorities over others, but they governed in the church in common with
presbyters; so that they were no more than nominal bishops, possess-
ing little or nothing of that lordly dignity, which they now, and for
a long time past, have enjoyed. Spottiswood (History, p. 29,) him-
self testifies, that the Scottish bishops, before the eleventh century,
exercised their functions indifferently in every place to which they
came. Palladius may be said to have rather laid the foundation of
the after degeneracy of the church of Scotland, than to have built that
superetructure of corruption and idolatry which afterwards prevailed ;
because she continued for near two hundred years in a state compa-
ratively 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
intnisted to Irish ecclesiastics ; but on account of some civil dissen-
sions he left his native country, and travelled both in Europe and
Asia, which might tend to give him that intrepedity which he after-
wards 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 Co-
lumba, 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 associates,
and landed on Hi, or lona, now called Icolmkill, or Columkill, for
Columba himself. Here he established his missionary college, which
gave birth to those of Dunkeld, Abernethy, St. Andrew's, Abercorn,
Govan on the Clyde, and many other religious establishments. Hence
this remote and rugged isle may be viewed as the uppeV room in
Jerusalem, a well-spring whence flowed a flood of gospel light
throughout our land. It is affirmed that Columba was not only in-,
strumental 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 beginning of the seventh century,
a number of pious and wise men flourished in the country, among
whom was Kentigem, 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
by their means, broke into other parts of the Saxon dominions, which
long maintained an opposition to the growing usurpation of the church
of Kome, which, after the middle of this century, was strenuously
supported by Austin's disciples. Besides these men, the church of
INTROD^ICTION. 21
Scotland at this time sent many other worthy and successful mission-
aries into foreign parts, particularly 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 Eomish principles, and inattention
to the lives of her clergy, the papal power soon came to be univer-
sally acknowledged. In the seventh century a hot contest arose be-
tween Austin and his disciples 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 communion
with the other party, until an arbitral decision was given by Osway,
king of the I^orthumbrians, at Whitby in Yorkshire, in favour
of the Koraanists, when the opinions of the Scots were exploded, and
the modish fooleries of papal hierarchy established. This decision,
however, was far from putting an end to the confusion which this
dissension had occasioned ; the Romanists urged their rites w^ith
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 obtained the act exempting
them from taxes, and all civil prosecutions before temporal
judges, and ordaining that all matters concerning 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 likewise 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., successively supported this dignity, by erecting particular
bishoprics, abbeys, and monasteries. 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
complaining of it to Alexander III., who reigned after the middle of
the thirteenth century ; but he was so far from being able to afibrd
them redress, that when they were excommunicated by the church
on account of this complaint, to prevent greater evils, he was obliged
to cause the nobility to satisfy both the avarice and arrogance of the
clergy, who had now resolved upon retiring to Rome, with a view to
raise as great commotions in Scotland, as Thomas-a-Becket had
^atelv made in England.
22 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Tbe pope's power was now generally acknowledged over Cbristen-
dom, particularly 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." Tliis bull was occasioned
by an attempt of one Roger, bishop of York, in the year 1159,
to raise himself to the dignity of metropolitan of Scotland, and who
found means to become legate of this kingdom, but lost that
oflice npn the remonstrance of the clergy. This remonstrance
prucurea the above bull in their favour, with many other favours of
a like nature at this time conferred upon them, by all of which they
were exempted from any other jurisdictions than that of Rome;
BO that we lind 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 regarded by the people as a new mark
of royalty ; but which, as the appointment of the pope, was really
the mark of the beast.
There were now in Scotland all the orders of monks and friars.
Templars, or red monks. Trinity monks of Aberdeen, Cistertian
monks, Carmelite, Black, and Grey friars, Carthusians, Dominicans,
Franciscans, Jacobines, Benedictines, &c. ; which show to what
a height antichrist had raised his head in our land, and how
readily all his* oppressive measures were complied with by all
ranks.
But the reader must not think, that during the period we have
now reviewed, there were none to oppose this torrent of superstition
and idolatry ; for from the first appearance of the Roman antichrist
in this kingdom, God wanted not witnesses for the truth, who boldly
stood forth in defence of the blessed and pure gospel of Christ.
Mention is firet made of Clements and Samson, two famous Culdees,
who in the seventh century supported the authority of Christ as the
only king and head of his church, against the usurped power
of Rome, and who rejected the superstitious rites of antichrist as con-
trary to the simplicity of gospel institutions. The succeeding age
was no less remarkable for learned and pious men, to whom Scotland
gave birth, and whose praise was in the churches abroad ; par-
ticularly- Joannes Scotus, who wrote a book upon the eucharist, con-
demned by Leo IX., in the year 1030, long after his death. In the
ninth century, a convention of estates was held at Scoon for the
reformation of the clergy, their lives and conversations at that time
being a reproach to common decency and good manners, not to say
piety and religion. The remedies provided at this convention
discover the nature of the disease. It was ordained, that churchmen
should reside upon their charges, that they should not intermeddle
with secular affairs, but instruct the people, and be good examples
in their conduct ; that they should not keep hawks, hounds, or
horses, for their pleasure, and that they should carry no weapons,
nor be pleaders in civil causes. And if they failed in the observance
of these injunctions, they were to be fined for the first, and deposed
INTRODUCTION. 23
for the second transgression. These laws were made nnder king
Constantine II. ; but his successor, Gregory, rendered them abortive
by his indulgence. The age following was not remarkable for
witnesses to the truth ; but historians are agreed that thei^ were still
some of the Culdees, who lived and ministered apart from the
Eomanists, and taught the people that Christ was the only propitia-
tion 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 Kobert Bruce, complains 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 Eobert Bruce. After his
having defeated the English at Bannockburn, they became suppli-
ants to the pope for his mediation ; who accordingly sent a legate
into Scotland, 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 explained 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 unwise as to let the advantage I have slip out of my
hand." The legate regarding this answer as contemptuous, inter-
dicted the kingdom, and departed • but king Robert paying little
regard to such proceeding, followed hard after the legate, and
entering England, wasted all the adjacent counties with fire and
sword.
In the beginning of the fifteenth century, the reformation from
popery began to dawn in Scotland ; at this time there was pope
against pope, nay, sometimes three of them at once, all excommuni-
cating one another ; which schism lasted for about thirty years, and, -
by an over-ruling providence, contributed much to the downfall of
antichrist, and to the revival of real religion and learning in Scot-
land, and many parts in Europe ; for many embracing the opportu-
nity now afforded to them, began to speak openly against the heresy,
tyrami}^, and immorality of the clergy. Among those who preached
publicly against these evils, were Jobn Huss and Jerome of Prague
in Bohemia, John Wickliffe in England, and John Resby, an
Englishman and scholar of Wicklifie's in Scotland, who came hither
*Hind let Loose, period II. p. 11, first edit.
24 SCOTS WORTHIES.
abont the year 1407, and was called in question for some doctrines
which he taught against the pope's supremacy ; he was condemned
to the fire, which he endured with great constancy. About ten
years after, one Paul Craw, a Bohemian, and follower of Hubs, was
accused of heresy before such as were then called doctors of theology.
Tie articles of charge were, that he followed IIuss and Wickliffe in
the opinion of the sacrament of the supper, denying that the
substance of bread and wine were changed by virtue of any words,
and that auricular confession to priests, or praying to departed
saints, were proper. He was committed to the secular judge,
condemned to the flames at St. Andrews, where he suffered, being
gagged when led to the stake, that he might not have the opportunity
of making his confession. Both the above-mentioned martyrs
suffered under Henry Wardlaw, bishop of St. Andrew's, who founded
that imiversity, 1412 ; which might have done him honour, had he
not imbrued his hands in innocent blood.
These returnings of the gospel light were not confined to St.
Andrew's : Kyle, Carrick, Cunningham, and other places in the west
of Scotland, were also favoured about the same time ; for we find that
Robert Blackatter, the first archbishop of Glasgow, anno 1494,
caused summon before king James lY., and his council at Glasgow,
George Campbell of Cessnock, Adam Eeid of Barskimming, John
Campbell of r^ewmills, Andrew Shaw of Polkemmet, lady Pokellie,
and lady Stair. These were opprobriously called the Lollards of
Kyle, from Lollard, an eminent j^reacher 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 summary 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 IH. By maternal descent
his birth was not less illustrious ; his mother being a daughter of John
duke of Albany, brother to the same monarch. He was early edu-
cated with a view to future high preferment, and had the abbacy of
Feme given him that he might ]3rosecute his studies, which he did
with great assiduity.
He was sent to the university of St. Andrew's,f and there he fin-
ished 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. Andrew's, although it had not
been a century in existence, was at this time in considerable reputa-
tion, and contained many learned men. The celebrated John Mair,
or Major, the preceptor of our great reformer Knox, and of our un-
rivalled classical scholar Buchanan, flourished at this time, and was
professor of philosophy and theology at St. Andrew's, where Hamilton
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 invited to his native country by James Beaton,
archbishop of Glasgow, and inducted professor in the archiepiscopal
* 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 historian 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 having 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 Ward-
law, archbishop of that see. But these are instances so isolated, that it may be said, with-
out offending truth, that Patrick Hamilton was the first who suffered for the doctrines of
the Reformation.
t This is stated on the authority of Mackenzie, but it may be questioned. Had Hamil-
ton been educated at St. Andrew's, Knox, who was a studentthere at the time, would have
recorded it. Knox does not seem even to have been acquainted with him.
2Q SCOTS WORTHIES.
university of St. Andrew's. His patron, Beaton, four years afterwards,
followed liim to that city, as arclibishop and primate. He died about
the year 1550. His commentary on the Third Book of the " Magis-
ter Sententiai-um," and his " Exposition of Matthew's Gospel," liad
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 writ-
ings 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
tlie circumstances of his having acquired the chief part of his educa-
tion in France, and his having held the professorial chair in the uni-
versity of Paris, Major had acquired a nicer discrimination of things
and more rational and liberal modes of thinking, than were to be met
with in Scotland, or indeed in many other parts of Europe. He
adopted the opinions on polity defended by John Gerson and Peter
D'Ailly, who had nobly, and with so much applause, argued in favour
of the council of Constance, against those who advocated the doctrine
of the pope's unlimited powder. 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 Eoman bishop, and loudly censured the ambition, ava-
rice, and splendour of the Vatican. These, with a variety of other
opinions which Major taught, must have excited some spirit of in-
quiry among his hearei-s, 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 uni-
versity; and although he acquired great applause for his learning
from his teachers, there is no definite notice taken by any historian
of his appearance as a student. Knox must have been at the uni-
versity during this period, but he is altogether silent on the subject,
as he generally is, on the early lives of all the Reformers. There
does not seem to have been a great intimacy subsisting between
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 improbable, that there might have been an acquaint-
anceship.^ It must be recollected, however, that Knox was at this
time a priest of the Romish church, having received orders before he
arrived at the canonical age,— and that the absence of the future mar-
tyr from Scotland, for a season, might also tend to stop all commu-
nication. Another reason might also be alleged,— the high birth of
Hamilton, and the comparative obscurity of Knox,— for the latter had
not as yet given those indications of the important part he was to sus-
tain in the future Reformation of his country, w^hich more than coun-
terbalanced the most splendid family renown, or illustrious alliance.
Hamilton was in the twenty-second year of his age when the know-
PATRICK HAMILTON. ^
ledge of divine truth dawned upon liis mind. His conduct had al-
ready drawn upon him the suspicions of the clergy. The freedom
with which he recommended ancient learning instead of the dogmas
of the schools, and the no less undisguised language which he used
in declaiming against the corruptions of the church, made him an ob-
ject of peculiar notice. His influence, however, was not yet of such
consequence, as to warrant punishment ; and as he still remained in
the church, and in all probability would be one of her greatest dig-
nitaries ; his opinions were viewed as the ebullitions of a heated im-
agination. But to Hamilton they were not so, and, ere the canonical
age for receiving his ordination, he resolved, in the year 1526, to leave
Scotland, and to improve his mind by travelling in foreign parts.
This was the prevalent custom in those days among men of rank, and
especially among those who were designed for the church. The Conti-
nent 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 resi-
dence of that reformer, by whom he was received with cordiality,
and introduced 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 university 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 celebrated scholar, Francis
Lambert of Avignon. 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 fond-
ness and ardour adopted the sentiments of his perceptor, and
attended with the utmost regularity his daily prelections. Hi&
residence at Marpurg was to him of the utmost advantage ; 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 com-
municated his sentiments to Lambert, who freely warned him of the
danger to which he would be exposed, and he tried to persuade him
to remain at Marpurg ; but his resolution was fixed, and, taking an
affectionate leave of his learned preceptor, with one domestic he pre-
pared 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 Conti-
nent, after leaving Marpurg. It is asserted by some historians that
he was in Bohemia ; and there is probably some truth in the
assertion, especially considering Hamilton's ardent disposition, and
his eager desire after knowledge.
Llamilton, 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
hospitality. He made himself master of all their tenets, though
there is no ground for Mackenzie's assertion, "with a design of
28
SCOTS WORTHIES.
reforming our church according to their models." His residence was
brief among them ; for, earnest to commence the work of Reforma-
tion in liis native land, he arrived in Scotland with a single attendant,
in the vcar 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
tlie corruptions of the Eomish church, and pointing out the errors
which had crept into the Christian religion as professed in Scotland.
He was favourably received and followed by many, unto whom he
readily "showed the way of God more perfectly."^ His reputation as
a scholar, and his courteous demeanour, contributed not a little
to his usefulness in this good work.
The arrival of Hamilton was not long a secret, nor was he allowed
much time by the clergy to disseminate his opinions. No sooner
had this young reformer set foot on his native land, than he felt his
bowels yearning with compassion towards his deluded countrymen ;
and, contrasting the moral aspect of his country with that of the coun-
tries where he had been, he longed for the time when the Eeforma-
tion 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
undertaking, 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. Andrew's, 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 wherever 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 determine
on revenge. The high birth and honourable connections of Hamilton
alone restrained him from proceeding openly ; for though James Y.,
then a minor, was on the throne, yet the primate well knew that the
reformer's noble relatives would shield him from his rage, even
though they might not be led away by his doctrines. At all events,
the alarm of the clergy was apparent, and they resolved as soon
as possible to rid themselves of this dangerous and formidable
enemy.
The city of St. Andrew's — a place venerable for its antiquity,
for its classical retreats, and for the many impressive associations
connected with it, was at that time the great capital of the clergy.
Here the Romish hierarchy reared its majestic and imposing form ;
and, surrounded by hundreds of priests, the primates were wont to
sit enthroned in power, in the splendid and magnificent cathedral,
which the over zeal of the reformers afterwards levelled with 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, James Simson official
of the abbey, John Gregson provincial of the Black Friars, Martin
Balfor and John Spence lawyers. Sir John Annan canon of St.
Andrew's, and Alexander Campbell prior of the Black Friar*
PATRICK HAMILTON. 29
Those, with a number of others of inferior note, consisting 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 mourn-
ful picture of the wreck of ages, and of those mighty revolutions
of time, in which cities, as well as kingdoms and empires, par-
ticipate.
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 convinced that his friends were
powerful and numerous. Through craftiness, however, he at last
succeeded ; for, concealing his intentions under the appearance
of friendship, he invited Hamilton to St. Andrew's, under the
pretense of holding a free conference with him, in which he
lamented the errors of the church. The unsuspicious victim thrown
off his guard by the primate's seeming candour, and rejoicing that
he would have an opportunity of arguing with, and perhaps con-
vincing, the greatest dignitary in the church, willingly consented.
This was all the primate wished, 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 learn-
ing and considerable talents, Hamilton openly engaged him in
disputation on the comparative effects of the reformed and popish
doctrines, and the friar, though not convinced, felt himself van-
quished. He knew well that the martyr's positions were true, but
he could not subdue his prejudices, and at once acquiesce in the
evils of superstition.
Nevertheless he went cunningly to work. He pretended to ac-
knowledge the force of Hamilton's objections against the clergy, and
the general errors of the Romish church ; but no persuasions of the
friar could induce the Reformer to recant. All his arguments
rather tended the more to confirm Hamilton in the truth. Campbell
at last left him, and proceeded to the archbishop, to whom he
related his ill success. The primate had previously resolved what to
do. But 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
acknowledgments, there is every reason to believe, were made only
the more effectually to conceal their intentions, and to make Hamil-
ton the more secure.
Archbishop Beaton, however, soon threw off the mask of friend-
ship and hospitality. Like his nephew and successor the celebrated
cardinal, who seems most liberally to have imbibed his spirit, he was
distinguished by the same want of principle, the same craftiness,
desire for political intrigue, and hatred to sacred truth. He showed
30 SCOTS WORTHIES.
his ambition to the greatest degree, during the two months he
acquired the ascendancy in the government, after John duke of
Albany liad resigned the regency, which was shortly after liis pro-
motion from tlie see of Glasgow to the primacy of St. Andrew's,
Laving succeeded the avaricious Forman in the latter see, to the
exclusion of Gawin Douglas, the warrior bishop of Dunkeld, and
celebrated translator of Virgil'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 himself into the government, and on his restitution
to hid archiepiscopal seat, after the memorable escape of the king
from the hands of the Douglases, he had resided in splendour at
St. Andrew's, equally powerful in church and state. As yet, till the
time of Hamilton, no heretic had disturbed his security ; he had
reposed on the downy pillow of ease, and none dared to make him
afraid ; but now, though he regarded not the church, as far as
religion was concerned, and was callous to everything uncon-
nected with his own aggrandizement, he determined to arrest the
progress of a man, who was able, from his rank, influeace and
talents to shake his archieopiscopal throne, and sow the seeds of dis-
sension and turbulance in that church, of which he was the chief
dignitary. Accordingly, in the middle of the night, an order was
issued by the primate for Hamilton's apprehension, and he was com
mitted a close prisoner to the castle of St. Andrew's.
Hamilton now saw the peculiar nature of his situation, but he wav"
nothing discouraged 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 prepared himself for the
issue, with all the calmness and resignation of a believer, committing
his cause to Him who judgeth righteously.
The measures which Beaton and his clergy took after Hamilton's
apprehension, fully prove their original designs. Knowing well that,
from Hamilton's rank and relationship to the royal family, there
would be powerful and not unlikely, effectual application for his life,
tlie young king, James Y., at the solicitation of the clergy, was per-
suaded to undertake a pilgrimage that same day to the shrine of St.
Dothes, in Ross-shire, that he might be out of the reach of all inter-
cession in behalf of the victim. And yet those churchmen pretended
that they had Hamilton's salvation at heart! The tender mercies ot
the wicked are cruel ; and the inveterate offences which Patrick Ha-
milton, a youth only twenty-four years of age, had committed against
the Romish hierarchy, could be expiated only by his blood.
The day after Hamilton's imprisonment, a convention of the clergy
was called by the archbishop, in which he presided in person.
Hamilton was summoned to appear before them, and accordingly he
was brought with all solemn parade into the abbey church. They
charged him with preaching and maintaining heretical doctrines, 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,
PATRICK HAMILTON. 31
however, according to Mackenzie and Spottiswoode (afterwards the
Protestant archbishop of that see,) were the following :
" 1. That the corruption of sin remains in children after their
baptism.
" 2. That no man is without sin as long as he lives.
" 3. That no man, by the mere power of his free will, can do any-
good.
" 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 w^orks make not a man good, but that a good man
doth good 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.
" 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 purchase 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 :
" CIIRISTI nomini invocato : "We, James, by the mercy of God,
archbishop of St. Andrew's, 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 mas-
ters of the university, assisting us for the time, sitting in judgment
within our metropolitan church of St. Andrew's, in the cause of here-
tical pravity, against Mr. Patrick Hamilton, abbot or pensionary of
Feme, being summoned to appear before us, to answer to certain
articles aftirmed, taught, and preached by him, and so appearing be-
fore us, and 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 dis-
cerning before him to be summoned and accused upon the premises,
he of evil mind (as may be presumed), passed to other parts, forth of
the realm, suspected and noted of heresy. And being lately return-
ed, not being admitted, but of his own head, without license or privi-
lege, hath presumed to preach wicked heresy.
" We have found also that he hath afiirraed, published, and taught,
divers opinions of Luther and wicked heretics, after that he was sum-
^ SCOTS WORTHIES.
moned to appear before us and our council : That man hath no fre(
will: That man is in sin so long as he liveth : That children incon^
tioent after their baptism, are sinnere : all Christians, that be worthy U
be called Christians, do know that they are in grace : ISTo man is justifiec
by works but by fiiith only : Good works make not a good man, buf
a good man doth make good works : That faith, hope, and charitj
are so knit, that he that hath the one hath the rest, and he tha
wanteth one of them wanteth the rest, &c., with divers other hei
esies and detestable opinions; and hath persisted so obstinate in th(
Bame, that by no counsel or persuasion 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. Patiick Hamilton, for his affirming, confessing, and main-
taining of the aforesaid heresies, and his pertinacity (they being con-
demned already by church, general councils, and most famous uni-
versities,) and to have an evil opinion of the faith, and therefore to
be condemned and punished, like as we condemn and define him to
be punished by this our sentence definitive, depriving, and sentencing
bim to be deprived of all dignities, honours, orders, offices, and bene-
fices of the church ; and therefore do judge and pronounce him to be
delivered over to the secular power, to be punished, and his goods to
be confiscated.
"This our sentence definitive was given and read at our metropoli-
tan church of St Andrew's, 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 Aberbrothoe, George abbot of Dun-
fermline, Alexander abbot of Cambuskenneth, Henry abbot of
Lenders, John prior of Pittenweeme, the dean and subdean of Glas-
gow, Mr Hugh Spence, Thomas Ramsay, Allan Meldrum, &c., in
the presence of the clergy and the people."
Such was the solemn mockery, by the E-omish clergy, of all law,
justice, and religion, in drawing out their "sentence definitive"
against the martyr. The sentence was originally in Latin, as all such
documents are, connected with the church ; and they foolishly
imagined, by the parade and show of equity, that they would con-
vince 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 anticipated ; yet let us not contem-
plate 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-raartyr in Scotland, for the freedom
of the human mind."
Hamilton heard his sentence with all the meekness and resignation
of a Christian martyr. He had previously argued with his judges,
and had defended his opinions with firmness, though with modesty :
a"
1
Gx^ORGE WISHART. 33
now he anticipated the result and he prepared himself for death. On
the same day that this sentence was pronounced by the ecclesiastical
court, he was also condemned by the secular power ; and the clergy,
afraid that some sudden intercession would be made for his life,
determined to hurry him to the stake that very afternoon.
During the interval he was visited by Alexander Aless, canon of
the metropolitan church of St. Andrew's, 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 the-
ology, held several conferences with Hamilton, to induce him to
recant. These conferences ended in the conversion of Aless ; and
the constancy with which he beheld Hamilton adhere to his opinions
at the stake", strengthened his resolutions. Aless some time after
delivered a Latin discourse to the synod, which brought him under
suspicion of heresy. He was thrown into prison ; but after a few
years' confinement he made his escape, and, embarking in a vessel
on the coast, eluded the vigilance of his pursuers. Aless went to
Germany, and in 1535, came over to England, recommended to
Cranmer by Melancthon. He returned to Germany, in lolO, and
was made professor of divinity in the University of Leipsic.
GEORGE WISHART.
This illustrious martyr was of the house of Pitarrow, in the county
of Mearns. He was born in the reign of James Y., though the par-
ticular 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 martyrdom, 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 insignificant.
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 com-
pleted a course of education in philosophy 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.
34 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Andrew's, or Knox, who studied there, would in all probability have
mentioned it, considerin<j; their after intimacy ; but, not at first hav-
ing any designs at all for tlie church, Wishart acquired tlie rudi-
ments of his education in some private seminary in Scotland ; next
at Aberdeen, and then he proceeded to the continent, where he con-
tinued In's 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 themselves which he afterwards sealed
with his blood.
The first public notice which we have of Wishart, is one of con-
siderable interest, as connected with the history of learning in Scot-
land. In those days literature was in a miserable state, all the
learning being confined 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 limited
indeed. Latin was the only language studied — a language which
was generally worse understood by the priests, who should have
undei*stood it best, than by the laity ; Greek w^as almost wholly un-
known ; for it is only in the year 1522 that Hector Boetius mentions
George Dundas as a good Greek scholar, which language he had
most probably acquired in France ; but that wTiter makes no men-
tion of this language as a branch of education taught in the univer-
sities in his time. In the year 1534, the 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 lan-
guage. As Ei-skine was provost of the town of Montrose, he of
coui-se 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 succeeded 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 be-
fore 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 tyranny from his native country,
betook himself 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 juris-
diction and power of his enemy the bishop of Brechin ; and here he
made those truths his more particular 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 thousand, five hundreth, fortio
I
GEORGE WISHART. ^§
and three, there was in the universitle of Cambridge, one Maister
George Wischart, commonly called Maister George of Bennet's col-
ledge, who was a man of tall stature, polde headed, and on the same
a round French cap, of the best ; judged to be of melancholje com-
plexion by his physiognomic ; blacke haired, long-bearded, comely
of personage, well-spoken of after his countrey of Scotland, court-
eous, 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 blacke Millian fustain dublet, and plain
blacke hosen ; coarse new canvasse for his shirtes, and white falling
bandes and culBfes 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 couet-
ousness : 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, w^hen 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,) he used to bathe himselfe ; as I being very young, being
assured offten heard him, and in one light night discerned him. He
loued mee tenderlie, and I him, for my age, as effectuallie. He
taught with great modestie and grauitie, so that some of his people
thought him seuere, and would haue slain him, but the Lord was his
defence. And hee, after due correction for their malice, by good ex-
hortation amended them, and he went his way. O that the Lord
had left him to me his poore boy, that hee might haue finished that
he had begunne ! For in his religion he was, as you see heere in the
rest of his life, when he went into Scotland with diners of the no-
bilitie, that came for a treatie to king Henry the Eight. His learn-
ing was no less sufiicient than his desire, always prest and readie to
do good, in that he w^as able, both in the house privately, and in the
schoole publikely, professing and reading divers authours.
" If I should declare his loue to me and all men, his charitie to the
poore, in giuing, relieuing, caring, helping, prouiding, yea, infinitely
studying how to do good unto all, and hurt to none, I should sooner
want words than just cause to commend him.
" All this I testifie with my whole heart and trueth of this godly-
man. He that made all, gouerneth all, and shall iudge all, knoweth
I speake the troth, that the simple may be satisfied, the arrogant
confounded, the hypocrite disclosed.
"Emery Tylnet."
In the year 1544, Wishart felt a desire to return to his native
country, that he might preach those truths which had gladdened his
own heart to his fellow-countrymen. And when Wishart " went into
Scotland," as his pupil Tylney expresses it, " with diners of the
iNobilitie that came for a treatie to king Henry the Eight ;" it was at
the earnest invitation of some of these, who were the principal
3a SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 influ-
ence, Henry's favourite scheme of uniting the two kingdoms, by a
marriage with his son Edward and the infant princess Mary of
Scotland, had been abandoned, and that Henry, in high WTath,
proclaimed war against the Scots. The Scots, however, were in no
condition at that time to take the field against Henry, then the most
powerful monarch in Europe ; and the disaster of Solway, w^hich
took j)lace only two years before, had made them much more cautious
respecting the mastering of their army. Peace w^as the only alter-
native, and commissioners were accordingly despatched to the
English monarch, to conclude a treaty between the two kingdoms.
In the company, therefore, of these, Wishart returned, and estab-
lished himself first in Montrose, w^here he commenced his ministry.
From Montrose he proceeded to Dundee, where his discourses excited
the highest admiration.
It is singular that he should have chosen a town for the com-
mencement of his ministry so near the abode of the cardinal, — St.
Andrew's 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 cliaracter, or that he was determined to make known the
truth, even so near the abode of archiepiscopal tyranny. It is
probable, however, that Wishart found an assembly of j^rotestants in
Dundee, to whom he hoped his ministry would prove peculiarly
acceptable, and these again would be encouragements for him to
commence his ministry among them, especially as they would appear
to him a people thirsting for the word of life.
While Wishart remained in Dundee, he began to give public
lectm-es on the Epistle to the Eomans, 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 credence to the doctrines of the
Keformation, 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 superstition
and credulity, the efforts made by such a preacher as Wishart to
overthrow the catholic church must have been formidable. The
cardinal, whose vigilance was unremitting, soon got notice of this
new opponent, and forthwith he k6pt his eye upon him as his sworn
adversary. He beheld, with deep regret, a total overthrow of all his
plana 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 resolved on Wishart's death.
Measures, however, were to be adopted in the mean time, to silence
GEORGE WISHART. 37
tlie reformer in Dundee ; and accordingly, either bv 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 suiferer on that
account, but who, having renounced these, was now a man of influ-
ence in the town, to serve Wishart with a prohibition, in the name of
the queen and the governor, to trouble them no more with his
preaching. This commission was executed by Mill one day after
w ishart had concluded his usual sermon, and was received by him
with every expression of pious zeal and resignation.. On hearing the
prohibition read against him, the reformer kept silence for a little
time, with his eyes turned towards heaven ; then looking steadfastly
on the speaker, with a sorrowful countenance, he said, " God is my
witness, that I ever mind your comfort, and not your trouble, which
to me is more grievous than to yourselves ; but sure I am, that to
reject the word of God, and to drive away his messengers, is not the
way to save you from trouble. "When I am gone, God will send you
messengers, who will not be afraid 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 tall upon you, remember this is the cause, and turn to God by
repentance, for he is merciful."
Wishart determined to obey the injunction, 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
numerous 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
apprehend him. Dunbar, at this time, was archbishop 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 154:3, a legate from the pope arrived in Scot-
land, 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 archbishop of Glasgow. The
cardinal having attended the legate in his visit to that city, claimed,
as primate of all Scotland, precedence of the archbishop, to which,
in his own cathedral, that prelate would not submit. 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
38 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 int^^rfere, and to restore unanimity between men, who, professing
to be the ministers of a religion of peace, had so indecently inter-
rnpted all good order, dignity, and worship.
The archbishop, who, although certainly not a violent persecutor,
was nevertheless zealous enougli for the church, at the instigation of
the cardinal, with whom he now preserved an appearance of friend-
ship, hastened to Ayr with a number of attendants. lie took pos-
session of the pulpit, with a view to hinder AVishart from preaching:
on the report of which, the earl of Glencairn, and some other gen-
tlemen 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 preaching, he
calmly said, that the bishop's sermon would not do much hurt, and
that, if they pleased, he would go to the market-cross. He said
this, because he disapproved of whatever could be regarded as a
violation of peace ; " and it was, indeed, his uniform practice," says
Dr. Cook, " to shun giving unnecessary offence ; and this modera-
tion, 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. During 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 accus-
tomed to the em23loyment, 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, Wishart continued with those
who professed the reformed doctrines, protected by the powerful, and
constantly preaching the truths of the gospel. On the sabbath fol-
lowing, 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 Kinzean-
cleugh, 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 himseff,
when he lived in the flesh, preached oftener in the desert and upon
the sea-side, than in the temple of Jerusalem." With these words
he appeased the multitude, and withdrawing to a muir on the south-
west of the parish, he there preached for almost three hours to a
vast multitude of attentive hearers ; in which sermon was that good
seed^ sown, which afterwards brought forth much fruit to the glory
of divine grace.
While Wishart was thus employed in the neighborhood of Ayr,
GEORGE WISHART. 39
instant in season and out of season, and teaching daily with success,
he received intelligence, that a contagious distemper raged with
great violence in Dundee, and was dailj proving fatal to vast num-
bers. His old affection towards that town now revived, and he
accordingly proceeded thither, after a month's stay in Ayr, notwith-
standing the urgent entreaties of many that he should remain. His
reasons were, " they are now in trouble, and need comfort. Per-
chance this visitation of God will make them now to magnify and
reverence that word which before, for the fear of man, they set at light
pi'ice." The humanity which Wishart on this occasion displayed is
highly honourable to his character. He could not altogether acquit
the inhabitants of Dundee of ingratitude, in forcing him, only a
month previous, to depart from their town, even although his resi-
dence 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
afiections of that people.
Having arrived at Dundee, he found that the reports as to the
malignity of the distemper had come far short of the truth, and
his benevolent soul was grieved to behold the ravages made by
death. " The joy of the faithful," says Knox, " was exceeding great
when he gave signification that he would preach on the morrow."
He chose the head of the street called the East Port 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 con-
duct, in truth, of Wishart, while at this time in Dundee, was such
as entitles his memory to be held in everlasting remembrance.
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, watched every opportunity to seize
him. He suborned many to vilify this holy man, and to act openly
as his avowed foes. Plis enemies, however, afraid of having recourse
to open violence, attempted, while he remained in Dundee, to assas-
sinate him. A priest, named Sir John Wightman, either from his
own private hatred and bigotry, or, as has been supposed, though
without sufficient evidence, stimulated by the cardinal, resolved on
his destruction. To effect his purpose, the priest stationed himself
at the foot of the pulpit steps, with his gown loose, and a dagger
concealed under it, in order that he might plunge it into Wishart's
* The East or Cowgate Port, with the exception of a small portion at the old burying
ground, is the only remnant of the wall that defended this ancient town. This port has
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 archway of this Port he
took his station; where, placing himself as it were between the living and the dead, he ad-
ministerea lo the dejected inhabitants the consolations of that blessed religion which alone
imparts comfort in the deepest distress; taking his text from Psalm cvii. 20, *' He sent his
word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction.-' A congregation in con-
nexion with the United Secession Church, have lately built a very handsome and substan-
tial meeting-house, upon the site of the old church of St. Roqiie. In honour of the martyr,
this edifice has been called Wjshart Church. The identity of this spot has been con-
firmed by the fact, that while digging the foundation, various ancient reliques, besides hu-
man skeletons and detached bones, were found.
40 SCOTS WORTHIES.
breast, as lie came down. The agitation of the priest's countenance,
or tlie eingularitv of bis ai^pearance, luckily arrested Wishart's
Attention, and raised his suspicions. Looking steadfastly on him
wlien he approached, he demanded of him, What he intended to
do? and in an instant seized the hand which grasped tlie murderous
weapon. The priest, overcome by his intrepidity and presence of
mind, instantly fell at liis feet, and acknowledged his guilt. The
enraged mnltitnde would at once have sacrificed him as a punish-
ment fur his barbarous pnrpose ; but AYishart restrained their vio-
lence, and calmed their resentment.
The reformer now prepared himself to proceed to Edinburgh,
tliat he might aj)pear before a convocation of the clergy, and be
publicly heard in defence of the doctrines he taught. To this he
Lad willingly agreed, and as the time appointed for the conference
was at hand, he resolved first to visit Montrose, and give a short
exhortation to the adherents of the Eeformation in that town ; for
he felt a presentiment that they would after that see his face no
more. lie accordingly journeyed thither, and imparted fresh cou-
rao^e to the professors of religion by his presence. He taught pub-
licl}' among them, and administered to them the sacrament of the
Supper, with great solemnity. This was the first time, and the first
place, in which the Lord's Supper was administered after the re-
formed manner.* While here, Wishart received a letter from the
friends of the Eeformation in Ayrshire, desiring him to meet them
at Edinburgh in the month of December. They promised to him,
♦ Wishart while he was dispensing the sacrament at Montrose, received a letter pretend-
ed to be directed to him from his intimate friend the Laird of Kinnear, acquainting him
that he had taken a sudden illness, and requesting him to come to him with all diligence.
Upon this he immei'iately set out on his journey, attended ly some honest friends in Mon-
trose, who, out of affection, would accompany him part of the way. They had not pro-
ceetied far, when Wishart suddenly stopped, saying to his companions : '• I am forbidden by
God to go this journey. Will some of you be pleased to ride yonder (pointing to some
E articular place) and see what you find, for I apprehend there is a plot against my life."
le returned instantly to the town, and those who went forward found an ambuscade of
about sixty horsemen, lying in readiness to seize him. This at once exposed the whole
affair; they found the letter to be counterfeit, and upon their informing Wishart of the cir-
cumstance, 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 Reformer's journey to Edinburgh, to meet
his friends from the west. 'J'he first night after he left Montrose, he lodged at Inver-
gowrie, a place about four miles from Dundee, with one of his friends named James Wat-
son. About midnight he was observed to rise from his bed, and to go out into an adjoining
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 apart-
ments. 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
°ff* 1! ^^r ^^ ^^^^ "' ^^^ "'S'^^' ^^^ ^'hat was the cause ol his sorrow, and they told him
u ^ k*^ ^'?ey had seen him do. He answered with a dejected countenance, "J wish you
bad 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
comlort, he said. "1 will tell you ; I assuredly know my travail is nigh an end, therefore
pray to God for me that I may not skrink when the battle waxes hottest" It would ap-
pear from these two liacts in Wishart's lite, that he possessed the spirit of prophecy. This
has been a/firmed of other distinguished Reformers, It is objected that its possession is in-
consistent 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.
I
TxEORGE WISHART. 41
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 tho
rospect of a favourable opportunity of promoting the great designs
e had in view by his return to Scotland. But Erskine of Dun, who
well understood the political aspect of the times, the poAver of Car-
dinal Beaton, and the inconstant temper of the Eegent, earnestly
dissuaded him from his proposed journey. Wishart, however, could
could not be withheld. In the midst of w^inter, he travelled with a
few attendants to Invergowrie, thence to Perth, and, after proceed-
ing through Fife, he arrived at Leith early in the month of Decem-
ber, 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 cardinal, ever vigilant,
was aware of their intentions, 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 w^as the contriv-
ance of 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 meet-
ing. This be did by various methods, as he was then actually at the
helm of power, by counterfeit letters, by threats and by employing
secret influence.
Wishart kept himself in retirement at Leith for a few days. He
began now to feel all the bitterness of hope deferred, his friends had
disappointed him, and the great objects which lay nearest his heart
had every appearance of being overthrown. Day after day he
passed in sorrow and heaviness, especially as he saw that no man
around him cared for his own soul. His friends observed his dejec-
tion, and offered him their consolations ; but to them he replied, " I
h'AYQ laboured to bring people out of darkness, but now I lurk as a
man ashamed to shew himself before men." They soon perceived
his desire was to preach to them salvation ; upon which they told
him that they would gladly hear him, but that the danger he would
run was so great, that they could not advise him. To this he replied,
" If you and others will hear me next sabbath-day, I shall preach in
Leith and let God provide for me as he best pleaseth." He accord-
ingly, on the following sabbath, discoursed to his audience in Leith,
from the 13th chapter of Matthew, taking for his subject the admir-
able parable of the sower.
At this time the celebrated John Knox was preceptor in the
family of Langniddry, in East Lothian. This illustrious man, to
whom posterity is so much indebted, and who was afterwards des-
tined to complete the Reformation in Scotland, had by this time
abjured the Eomish church. He had received ordination, immedi-
ately after com-pleting his education at St. Andrew's, even before thO
42 SCOTS WORTfflES.
age appointed by the canons, but he had never publicly preached,
having contented himself with merely expoiindinf^ the scriptures, in
the family of Douglas of Langniddry, a secret friend to the Refor-
mation. "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 informed 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 instructions.
Kiiox was among Wishart's auditors that he preached to in Leith, as
were also various gentlemen of repute in East Lothian, " 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 tiie sermon, a consultation was held by the
gentleman present, who all agreed thaf it would be advisable for
Wishart to depart from Leith, especially as the regent and the car-
dinal were to be in Edinburgh at the approaching Christmas. "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 was at that time almost unknown in Scotland. He likewise
performed an office of considerable notoriety. From the time that
the attempt had been made to assassinate Wishart in Dundee, a
sword had been always carried before his person by one of his attend-
ants, for his defence. This office was at this time fulfilled by Knox,
and none more faithful could have been chosen. On Sabbath, De-
cember 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 Edinburgh,) 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.*
During 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 salvation
♦ Unfortunately, however, Sir George Douglas did not fulfil this public profession in after
Ife.
GEORGE WISHART. 43
or condemnation. But the friars showed no disposition for instruc-
tion. Wishart proceeded, however, in his discourse, supposing them
to be listening attentively ; but seeing that their object was to dis-
turb the solemnity of the service, and to disturb the attention of the
audience, he turned to them, and with a solemn countenance, said,
"O ye servants of Satan, and deceivers of the souls of men, will you
neither 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 desolate." Abashed and
confounded, the friars retreated, afraid to confront this minister of
the New Testament. They stole from the service like guilty crim-
inals ; 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 audi-
ence stood deeply affected before him. He then resumed his dis-
course, and towards the end comforted them greatly with the assur-
ances of God's grace. Next day, the reformer proceeded to Lang-
niddry, in company with his friends. The two following Sabbaths he
preached at Tranent, and gave distinct intimation, that the impres-
sion 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 Argus, he forespake of the shortness of
time he had to travail, and of his approaching death, the day whereof
was nearer, he said, than any would believe."
At the end of the Christmas holidays, we find him with his friends
at Haddington. Here, by the consent of his friends, as it was a
town, even in those days, of considerable note, he preached to a very
numerous audience. On the following day, however, few attended
through the influence, it was supposed, of the earl of Bothwell, whc
was the most powerful man in the country, and who had been secretlj
corrupted by the cardinal. At this time, too, he received notict
from his friends in Ayshire, stating that they could not hold the
appointed conference. This, with the circumstances attending hi&
preaching at Haddington, almost overwhelmed him with despond-
ency. His devotedness to the truth is here remarkably conspicuous ;
as long as he saw men eager to be instructed, he rejoiced and counted
on no labour ; but as his whole soul was engaged in the cause of the
Eeformation, he now felt himself grieved unto death. As it was at
the request of his friends in Ayshire that he had hazarded his life by
coming to the Lothians, where he had not a sufficient number of
friends to oppose his enemies, all the hopes which he had long
entertained of seeing the Reformation furthered were now blasted,
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. During this
time, he was residing with Sir Eichard 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
44 SCOTS WORTHIES.
despondency ; and tliongh he was just on the point of ascendino^ the
pulpit, he could not conceal his grief. Knox, desiring to recall liis
ideas, remarked to him that it was not his custom to consider these
things before preaching. "True," replied Wishart, "the time for
sermon approacheth ; I will leave you for the present to your medi-
tation."
It is extremely difficult to account for the conduct of Wishart'ti
friends on this occasion. His own expressions would seem to indi-
cate an apostasy on their part, and it is certain that they expressed
little concern for his disappointment, or for the danger into which
they hacTbrought him. Whether the earl of Glencairn, who after-
wards acted a most conspicuous part in the history of the Eeformation,
and who was among the first of the nobility who renounced popery,
was of the number, does not appear ; but there is every reason to
conclude, that, from his openly encouraging and protecting Wisliart
while in Ayr, if he was not to act personally, at least the party was
to set out under his cognizance. Whatever 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 considered their conduct as highly reprehensible, and
as an act of great injustice done to himself.
Tliese feelings operated on him more peculiarly, as he was just
preparing to enter the pulpit in the church of Haddington. As this
was the last sermon our reformer ever preached, we shall be here
minute in our detail, taking as our authority the graphic description
of Knox, who was present on the occasion. Wishart went into the
church, and walked to and fro before the high altar nearly an hour,
his dejected countenance indicating the grief and sorrow of his
mind. At last he ascended the pulpit, but the audience was the
smallest he had ever witnessed. He clearly saw that some secret in-
fluence 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 hear-
ing the word of life, all his enthusiasm burst forth, and he felt him-
self, 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 ^/"^(^cA-
ing^ he thought it indeed a most grievous dereliction, when men re-
fused 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 con-
duct in the hour of danger and persecution ; and he who shrinks
cowardly from witnessing a good confession, subjects himself to
GEORGE WISHART. 45
a charge of being one who has never in any degree felt the in-
fluence 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 ^jrofession at all, unless it be accompanied by a correspond-
ing 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 accom-
panied by a resolution to stand hy 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 lamentable 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 inha-
bitants shall either in bondage serve your enemies, or else ye shall
be chased from your owi; habitations ; and that because ye have not
known, nor will not now know, the time of God's merciful visi-
tation." " In such vehemency and threatening," says Knox,f " con-
tinued 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 jperformed^^ 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 pro-
ceeded 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 audience, as one whose face they should see no
more in the flesh.
The sermon at Haddington ^7as the last which "Wishart preached.
He spoke of his own end as certain, for he saw that the cardinal
had so ensnared him as to miike escape impossible. His friends
were deeply grieved, and in the afternoon of that very day he took
a last farewell of them all with great affection and solemnity, espe-
* Plays were wont to be acted here ou an open grassy plain. f Historic, page 53.
40 SCOTS WORTHIES.
cially of Douglas and Langniddry, who was under the necessity of |
returning home that night, chiefly on Knox's account, wliom hej
wished to be out of the way of danger, as he was well aware of th(
wliole proceedings of the cardinal with the earl of Both well, since]
tlie former had arrived in Edinburgh. Knox could hardly be pre-|
vailed u]>on to separate from his revered instructor, for whom he
now felt the most filial aftection. As Wishart was to leave Had-
dington for the house or castle of Ormiston, Knox entreated that he
might be permitted to accompany him, but to this Wishart would
by means consent. He affectionately embraced him, but advised
bim to depart, as he knew that Knox had brought himself under the
Qotice of the cardinal, by his attachment to him. " Eeturn to your
baimes," said the martyr mildly, meaning his pupils, " and God
blesse you. 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 remained in Haddington, and in
the morning he went on foot to Ormiston, in the midst of a severe
storm, accompanied by Cockburn, the owner of that place, Sandi-
lands 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
60 resolved was he to apprehend Wishart, that he had secretly left
Edinburgh, and on the same night in which Wishart went to Ormis-i
ton, the primate, unknown to the martyr or his friends, arrived at
Elphingstone castle, a place about two miles distant from Ormiston.
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 meanwhile, his
mind strongly impressed 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 discourse on the
death of God's ciiildren, at the end of which he pleasantly said,
" Methinkes I desire earnestlie to slepe ; let us sing a psalme." He
appointed the 51st* Psalm to be sung, which had been turned into,
* The following is the psalm which Wishart sung in the castle of Ormiston on the'
night of his apprehension. It is the 01st, and the reader can compare it with the trans-
laUon now adopted in the version authorized by the Scottish church :—
** MUerere nud, Deu9. Psal. IL Hane mercie on me (O gude Lord)
„ ., , „ , . Efter thy great mercie.
Hane mercie on me, God of might, My ginfull life does me remord,
Of merclo Lonl and King; Quhilk sair has {rreuit thee :
* ?L^ fr®^^ ? ''* ff ^ ^"" ^^^^ 3iot tliy grfit grace has mee restored,
jAboue all elnlly thing. Thro w grace, to libertie :
klTilh ^""^ ^ 11 Y °'^^*» '^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ w^'^ '^®® ^^^ ^ s<>"
And with my bert sail sing.
To tby merde wS" thee will I
go.
GEORGE WISHART.
47
Scottish rhyme, and began thus, " Haue mercy on me,^ God of
mio-ht:" which being sung, he retired to his chamber, adding these
'* Et secundum muUitudinem,
" Guide Lord, 1 knavv my wickedness,
Contrair to tliy command,
Eebelland ay with cruelnes :
And led me in ane band
To Satlian, quha is merciles:
Zit, Lord, lieir me cry and.
To thy mercie witli tliee will I go.
Quhat king can tell the multitude,
Lord, of thy greit mercie.
Sen sinners hes thy celsitude
lies sted cruellie.
Zit na sinner will thou seclude,
1 hat this will cry to thee,
To thy mercie with thee will I go.""
" Tibi soUpeccavi.
" Only to thee I did otfend,
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 tliee will I go.
Thoght thou, gude Lord, be judged thus,
Full fals and w rangouslie.
O God sa gude ami gracious.
Let their judging vincust be.
And shaw thy mercie plenteous,
Quhilk mot vs justitie.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Take not from me thy godly Spreit
In my adversitie ;
For till my sauil it is full sweit,
■When sinne besettes mee ;
And thow sail make my saull full melt
Unto thy Majestic.
To thy mercie with thee will I go."
'■'■Redde milii.
" Giue me the blythnes and the blis
Of my sweit Sauiour ;
For throw his bitter deid I mis
Of hell the dintis dour,
And in tliis mortall life, hee is
My Strang defence and tour.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Confirme thy Spreit most principall
Into me, throw thy grace ;
For sinne right lang held me in thrall,
And put me from thy face;
Yet vnto tliee, Lord, will I call
Into my hauie cace.
To thy mercie witii thee will I go."
" QuoniaTn si vohiisses.
" Gif thou had pleased sacrifice,
I suld them offered thee ;
But thou wilt nought sic auarice,
For thou art wonder free.
And giues vs thy benefites.
Throw Oliristes blude freely.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Consauit into sin I am.
My wickednes thoght thou behald,
Quhilk I contractetl of Adams
Sinnand right manifald.
iVly mother als did eik the same.
And i to sin was said.
To thy mercie with tliee will 1 go.
Brint sacrifice is na delito
Unto thy Majestic.
Thou caris uocht of it ane mite,
For sinne to satisfie ;
For onlie Christ did make vs quite
Of all enormitie
To thy mercie with thee will I go."
Bot zit the Lord omnipotent,
My cairfuU 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 cleeiie.
And cleerer then maid sail I be.
Than euer snaw hes bene.
Zit of my clenenes, thy mercie
The rute is euer scene.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
" Benigne fac Domine.
" To Syon, Lord, bee gude againe,
Efter tiiy godly will ;
And let tliy louing there remaine,
Thy promise to fulfill :
For Mount Syon, with greit disdaine,
In thrall is bidder till.
To thy mcrcio with thee will I go.
Jerusalem did get ane fall ;
Ilcr walHs were made full law:
For she miskenned the God of all,
And duyly brake his law :
But thow sail put her out of thrall,
"When shee her God does knaw.
To thy mercie with thee will i go."
This isope is humilitie.
Eight law intill ascence ;
The snaw sa white in all degree,
Betakens innocence.
For, and thir twa do gouerne me,
I sail do nane offence.
To thy mercie with thee will I go."
" JVe projieias me.
" 0 gude Lord, cast me not away
From thy perfyte presence.
Sen that I grant my sinnes ay
Hes done thee greit offence ;
And 1 sail praise, baith night and day,
Thy greit magnificence.
To tliy mercie with thee will I go.
" Tunc acceptdbis.
" Then sacrifice thow sail accept.
Of truth and righteousnes.
Conforming to thy trew precept,
And to thy gentilnes :
For no man then sail thou except
Into their neid and stres.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Then calfes and brint sacrifice
Thy alter sail repleit.
Then greiter glore and benefice
Thow sail make for vs meit ;
Where, day and night, wee sail not i
Ay singand with sainctes sweit
To thy mercie with thee wiil I go."
48 SCOTS WORTHIES.
words, " And grant us quiet rest." Alas ! he little knew that the
arch-enemy was' at hand, and that, like his great Master, he was
almost on the point of being betrayed into the hands of those who
had long thireted for his blood.
At midnight, however, the trampling of horses was heard ; tlie
family were thrown into confusion, as it was found that the house
was surrounded by armed men. The party was commanded by the
Earl of Bothwell, high sheriff of the county, who had been commis-
sioned by the governor and the cardinal to take AVishart prisoner.
Bothwell desired a conference with Cockburn, the chief of Ormiston,
whose friend and guest Wishart was, and told him his instructions.
Cockburn at first refused to deliver him up, thinking, that by contriv-
ing a delay, that "Wishart would get time to escape; but Bothwell,
in virtue of his authority as sheriff, declared to him that it was in
vain for him to hold out his house — that all resistance was useless,
for the governor and 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 re-
move 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 calmness 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 ad-
dressed 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 car-
dinal 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 pro-
mise unto your lordship, that not only we ourselves shall serve you
all the days of our life, but also we shall procure the whole profes-
sors of the truth in Lothian to do the same. And upon either the
E reservation of this our brother, or upon his delivery again into our
ands, 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 aii^ain,
G^^ORGE WISHART. 49
our band of man-rent, in manner requisite." Botliwell again
solemnly pledged his honour, and Wishart being put into his hands,
he departed with him to Elphingstone, where the cardinal then was.
To Wishart, however, death seemed certain, although he relied
much on BothwelPs 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 mur-
dered in secret." The furious zeal of Beaton, in whatever concerned
the stability of the church, would, Wishart knew, in this case com-
pletely overcome all the prudence and policy which, in secular
aifairs, the cardinal had hitherto so completely displa3^ed. " Instead
of preserving Wishart," says Dr. Cook, " and thus keeping the Pro-
testants, from dread of accelerating 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 termi-
nation of his own career was so intimately connected."
Bothwell, as we have already said, carried Wishart to Elphing-
stone castle, where the cardinal then was. But the rage of the car-
dinal, 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 of Calder,* the Lord of
Brunston, by name Crichton, and Cockburn of Ormiston, were all
present, he immediately commanded that these should be appre-
hended. By this time his whole retinue had arrived at Elphing-
stone ; and they, with some of the regent's soldiers, were sent to ap-
prehend Wishart's friends. The noise of horsemen was again that
night heard by the servants at Ormiston, of which they gave imme-
diate notice to their superiors. While they were consulting among
themselves what now could be the motive of their visiters, the sol-
diers 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 appearing, 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 cardinal would take his revenge on them in some way or other
for the open countenance they had given to Wishart ; and therefore,
contriving a delay under the pretence of putting themselves in readiness
to ride, Brunston 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 committed prisoners to Edinburgh
castle, where Sandilands of Calder remained till he had given satis-
faction to the primate ; but his friend, the lord of Ormiston, ^' freed
♦ Now the noble family of Torphichen. The chiefs of Calder were long at the head
of the famous order of the Knights Hospitallers in »^cotland. They were early and steady
friends to the Reformation. In the great hall of Calder- House, the illustrious Knox dis-
pensed 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 Montrose. A portrait of " the reformer of a kingdom," as Milton emphatically calls
Knox, hangs in this hall with an appropriate inscription, — a hall so sacred for associations
ot civil and religious liberty.
4
50 SCOTS WORTHIES.
himself, by leapinj^ 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
Ijimself the hatred of the cardinal, in all probability he would have
suffered with his friend the martyr.
Wishart was first conveyed from Elphingstone 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 negotia-
tion took place for the delivery of TVishart 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 resistance at first, by reason of his promise. But an effeminate
man cannot long withstand 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 hj her entreaty^ he yielded. And thus Wishart
a second time was taken to the castle."
AVishart was not permitted to remain long in Edinburgh. The
cardinal was then in that city, presiding in a convention of prelates,
who had assembled for the purpose of redressing some abuses of the
church, " and reforming the lives of the clergy." The deliberations
of this assembly, however, like those of the one which met in 1549,
never took effect. The cardinal, having now got Wishart com-
pletely into his power, speedily broke up the convention, and afraid
of delay, proceeded in great haste with his prisoner to St. Andrew's,
where he summoned a convocation of the prelates to assemble on the
27th day of February, 1546. Wishart, in the mean time, was com-
mitted a close prisoner to the castle of St. Andrew's.
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
6U})posed 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 animosity 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
pei-son, 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 whpt
was most oflensive of all to the cardinal,— that he (the archbishop
GEORGE WISHART. 51
m of Glasgow) was a bishop, when the other was only Beaton, before
m. he got the abby of Aberbrothwick. These sentiments of the prelate
W of Glasgow being spoken without reserve, and having been spread
throughout 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 some-
what similar, though of far more importance, Pilate and Herod were
made friends, so, in the eagerness of the cardinal to procure the
condemnation of Wishart from the most exalted dignitaries of the
church, he laid aside his resentment against the archbishop of Glas-
tgow, and wrote to him first of all, in most friendly terms, craving
nis presence and assistance, in order to the suppression of this great
enemy of the church. 'Nov was the prelate of Glasgow slow in his
obedience. As if glad of the opportunity of commencing again a
friendship with the cardinal, he hastened to St Andrew's at the time
appointed ; "sat next to the cardinal," says Knox, " waited and sub-
scribed 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 Andrew's,
being a man, on the whole, of greater caution and prudence, sug-
gested to the cardinal the propriety 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 abby church, on the last day of
February (which was the next day), to answer for his seditious and
heretical doctrines. " Nothing," 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
kfelt this injustice ; and when, by the order of the cardinal, he was
cited to appear by the dean of St. Andrew's, he took this form for
jest, seeing that he was already a prisoner, and wholly in the cardi-
nal'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. Andrew's, 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 c?rdinal. He took
53 SCOTS WORTHIES.
for his text the 13th chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, and discoursed
concerning the good seed. The whole sermon was on the nature of
heresy, but was delivered in such a manner as applied more justly to
the cardinal and his colleagues, than to the accused. His discourse
he divided into four parts. The first was a short declaration of the
meaning of the evangelist. The second was concerning the meaning
of the goodseed^ which he declared to be the w^ord of God, and hesesy
the lad seed \ and he defined heresy to be "a false opinion, directly
repugnant to the word of God, and pertinaciously defended." After
laying down some rules for the discovery of heresy, which could only
be ascertained by the scriptures, he said, that, as the touchstone was
made use of for distinguishing gold from counterfeit metals, so the
proj)er 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 ascribed to the ignorance of
those who had the charge of men's souls ; who, because they did not
themselves understand the word of God, were unable to lead back
those into the right path, who went astray ; and, in defining the
character of those who ought to be able to win again the teachers of
heresy, by the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, he
supported his position by St Paul's charge to Timothy : — " A bishop
must be faultless, as becometh the minister of God, not stubborn nor
angry, no drunkard, no fighter, not given to filthy lucre, but hos-
pitable, 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 impugn what is said
against him." He expressed 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 conclusion of his discourse, however,
was inconsistent, for he asserted that heresy ought to be opposed by
the church and state, and that those w^io 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 afiairs 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 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 barba-
rous age. The mildness and humility of Wishart presented a strik-
ing contrast 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 vfent from one accusation 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
GEORGE WISHART. 53
sayings, which we have duly proved by sufficient witnesses against
thee ?"
Wishart, throughout this scene of persecution and abuse, preserved
all his characteristic 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 equitably judge of his doctrine. He de-
sired 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 unright-
eous thing, if they should stop their ears, when he truly preached
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
freat danger of his accusers. He besought them, therefore, to hear
im, for the glory of God, their own peace of mind, and the safe-
guard 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 authority. As Wishart was thus proceeding,
he was interrupted by Lauder, who again exclaimed, " 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 prohibited him from discoursing, saying,
"If we give him liberty to preach, he is so crafty, and in holy Scrip-
ture 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 unbiassed judges. . Lauder, his accuser and most virulent
enemy, took this opportunity of flattering the cardinal. Triumph-
antly enumerating his many splendid titles, he asked the martyr, if
he who was archbishop of St. Andrew's, bishop of Mirepoix in
France, chancellor of Scotland, commendator (or abbot) of Aber-
t4 SCX)TS WORTHIES.
brotliwick, Legatua rmtus^ legatits 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 certain of your lordships liere present,
because I am my lord govei'nor's prisoner." When Wisliart had
thus spoken, some of his enemies called out, " such man, such
judge,'' meaning that the governor and others of his friends were
heretics like himself.
This appeal of Wishart greatly irritated Beaton, and he would
liave immediately condemned him without any farther ceremony,
had he not been reminded that it was proper that the accusation
should be again read, and the replies heard to its different parts, lest
the people might think him wrongfully condemned. "It is evident
that the other ])relates, 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 accordingly exhibited against
* The following are the articles exhibited against the martyr, and more absurd and mis-
represented calumnies were never invented against any man : —
"Art. 1. — Thou false hereticke. runagate, traytor, and thief, deceiver of the people, de-
spisest 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 hishop of Breachen cursed thee, and delivered thee into the
devil's hand, and gave thee then commandment, that thou shouldest preach no more ; yet
notwithstanding thou didst continue obstinately.
" Art. 2. — Thou false hereticke didst say, that a priest standinj^ at the altar saying masse,
waa like a fox wagging his taile in July.
jitMUfr.— " My lords, I said not so. These were my sayings ; The moving of the body
outward, 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. ;{.— Thou false hereticke preachest against the sacraments, saying, that there are
not seven sacraments.
**Arl 4. — Thou false hereticke hast openly taught, that auricular confession is not a
blessed sacrament, and thou sayest, 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 general councels, and the estates
of holy church.
''Art. C— 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.
Jtnttvtr.—'" My lords, forsooth I never taught of extreme unction in my doctrine, whe-
ther 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 heretic 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 con-
cupbcence cometh of God, of whatsoever kinde it be of.
'• Art. 11.— Thou false hereticke sayest, it is as lawfuU to eat flesh upon Friday, as on
Sunday.
** Art. 12.— Thou false hereticke doest say, that we should not pray unto saints, but to
God onely, say whether thou hast said this or no, say shortly.
GEORGE WISHART.
55
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 were most grievously misrepresented, as if indeed the car-
dinal had resolved on his destruction at all hazards. He endeavour-
ed 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 brino-
the trial to a conclusion, it was found that 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 follov^^ing day.
" 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, friars,
nuns, and priests, saying, that whosoever was bound to such like vows, they vowed them-
selves 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 gene-
rail or provincial! counsells.
"Art. 16. — Thou hereticke sayst, 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 experience, that fasting is good for the health, and conservation 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 life immortall untill the
last day.
Answer. — " God full of mercy and goodnesse forgive them that say such things of me. I
wot, and know surely by the word of God, that he who hath begun to have the faith of
Jesus Christ, and to believe firmely in him, I know surely, I say, 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 augmented, 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."
50 SCOIS WORTHIES.
ADAM WALLACE.
Fob four years after the death of Wishart, the political troubles in
which Scotland was involved, served to suspend the rage of persecu-
tion. A peace, however, was at last concluded, and the year 1550
terminated the war.
Archbishop Hamilton then commenced his persecuting career by
apprehending Adam Wallace, and bringing him to trial and execu-
tion. Nothing could be more impolitic or more infatuated than this
procedure of the primate. Wallace, who is always described by
contemporary historians as a " simple man," was of such humble
station in life, as to have secured him from notice, had not the arch-
bishop been at once led away by the most imprudent rage against
the Eeformers. The death of Wallace, in fact, could serve no pur-
pose at all, but only exasperate to a greater degree the minds of those
who held the doctrines of the Eeformation. The priests seemed,
indeed, by their own conduct, to be fast hastening their downfall ;
80 true it is, that the wicked often lay snares for themselves, and
perish by means of tlieir own devices. But simple as Wallace was,
nis 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
sufterer, he deserves to be remembered by posterity with every grate-
ful recollection.
Perhaps his humble station may be assigned 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 precep-
tor 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 adherance 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 recollected, that he was himself appre-
hended on that occasion along with Sir John Sandilands of Calder,
and committed prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh, from which he
made his escape by leaping the wall.
^ Wallace was not a priest ; and the remark of Keith seems in all
likelihood to be true, '' that the catechising" of the lady Ormiston's
ADAM WALLACE. 57
cliilclren, *' and also of other children in the new forms," the refoiir.ed
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. Andrew's, and brought to his trial in the church of
the Black Friars at Edinburgh.
The apprehension of this inoffensive 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
th^ 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^, representing the
archbishop of that see ; at the right hand of the regent sat his natural
brother, the archbishop of St. Andrew's ; and at the back of the
primate, stood the official of Lothian. The bishops of Dunblane 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. Andrew's, were also present. There were also in
attendance the earl of Argyle as justice, and Sir John Campbell of
Lundy, the earl of Huntly, lord chancellor, the earl of Angus, the
bishop of Galloway, the prior of St. Andrew's, (afterwards) earl of
Moray), the bishop of Orkney, lord Forbes, John Winram sub-prior
of St. Andrew's, and behind them stood the whole senate, and other
inferior officers, the clerk of the register.
Such was the splendid convention in the church of the Black
Friars at Edinburgh, which met for the trial of Adam Wallace. In
the pulpit appeared John Lauder, the fanatical priest who abused
Wishart at his trial, and who, on this occasion, acted also the
part of accuser. Arrayed in a surplice and red hood, Lauder stood
forth before a large congregation, some of whom beheld the scene
with wonder, and others with contempt and indignation. Lauder
seems to have been plentifully endowed with the sanguinary ideas
of his late master, Beaton, and he only wanted the power to be fully
as severe. It is not at all improbable, that he gained the confidence
of his superiors in the church by his zeal, and that he even stimu-
lated 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 political intrigues. But the man who could
revile the meek and pious Wishart, who could exult at the misfor-
tunes 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 committing 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 humble 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
58 SCOTS WORTHIES.
not a bad politician, and on this occasion he thought proper to
exercise some of liis 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 perse-
cuting cardinal," as Fox appropriately terms Beaton, had so carefully
trod, and forwliich he at last received his reward ; and he determined
to show the spectators a specimen of his power and influence. Sur-
rounded by some of the great men of the Kingdom, supported by his
brother, the weak and irresolute regent, and the earl of Huntly, the
lord chancellor of the kingdom, ana 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 ana exaltation, and at the blow he vainly thought he was
about to give the Eeformation by the death of Adam Wallace. The
primate had resolved to strike terror at once into the hearts of the
spectaturs, 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 Reforma-
tion, lie 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. Andrew's, was among the eccle-
siastics ; 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 convinced that the
catholic church was tottering 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 Winrara
the less rejoice on that account. This worthy priest, whose excel-
lence AVishart himself acknowledged, and whose orthodoxy Knox
had complimented, detested those exhibitions of cruelty, and secretly
wished for the overthrow of all the strongholds of superstition.
Moderate himself in his measures, he was for proceeding by fair and
honest argument; and he rightly thought the cause to be indeed
pitiable, which could not stand a calm and candid investigation. In
this case he must have beheld with abhorrence the primate's proceed-
ings, 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 anpear to be open and consistent. He was long deeply sensi-
ble of the errors of his church, and yet we find him remaining in the
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 cliurch of which he is a member has made
a most lamentable declension, — that her doctrines are not only dan-
gerous but damnable, — that not only her profession but her practice
18 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 reformation, 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
I
ADAM WALLACE. 59
from siicli 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 Tie conceives 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 w^ell knows, 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 Chris-
tian society, when he beholds it not only determined 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 ow^n day, let us not be too rash in con-
demning the conduct of Winram, and of others in his times, who
were placed in the like circumstances. While we venerate those illus-
trious men, w^ho at the dawn of the Reformation enlisted under the
banners of truth, let us not load with unqualified censure, 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. Kicodemus, 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 their Master, by
embalming and interring his dead body, when all the other disciples
" had forsaken him and fled." Numbers of the Scottish clergy,
friendly to the Reformation, contrived to retain their situations, by a
concealment of their sentiments. Among these, besides the learned
and moderate Winram, were Adam Heriot, a friar of the Abbey of
St. Andrew's, John Carsewell, rector of Kil martin, 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 doora
to them that were bound."
It appears to us, that there never was a greater satire upon justice,
than the pretence 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 church-
men 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, 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 w^e 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
60 SCOTS WORTHIES.
power, without any ceremony at all. And let it be remarked, tha
almost all those prisoners were men who had been long marked oui
by the prelates — whom they had long pursued — and whose death the]
had already determined before their apprehension ; and was it noi
in the highest degree ridiculous, and against all equity, tliat thos(
very prelates who had long before 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 jndges ? Was there even
the slightest chance that the opinions of the prisoner would be inves-
tigated, 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 equitably tried, or in which he was not condemned
by the prelates in their own minds, before he was apprehended.
There is scarcely a single instance in which the sentence was miti-
gated, 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 resent-
ment, and outrageous and fanatical zeal for the church.
These remarks are abundantly verified in the case of the simple
but upright Adam AVallace. Hamilton had previously determined
the death of the humble martyr ; he resolved to begin witli 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 doctrines. "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 notable
to answer the sophisms and scurrility of Lauder, who, when he
treated George Wishart with such fanatical abuse, a gentleman, of
an ancient family, and a man of learning, would to a greater degree
vilify the "simple man," whom the rash primate had caused to be
apprehended. But having met, as they all did, with their resolution
previously formed to condemn him, what could be more unworthy
of a man of the primate's birth and station, of his character as a
man, and a Christian bishop, than the line of conduct which ho
pursued ?
It would seem that, on this occasion, the lords spiritual and tem-
poral, 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 answer 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 Eestalrig, 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.
ADAM WALLACE. 61
The case of the prebendary of St. Giles' church had no sooner been
disposed of, than the worthy fathers proceeded to the trial of Wal-
lace. 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
idm, 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 persecutors and the persecuted.
The former, proud, haughty, yet not devoid of splendid talents ; the
latter, poor, humble, not learned ; " but zealous in godliness and
uprightness 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 disj)lay 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 ofiSce of public prosecutor for his superior
of St. Andrew's. 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 speaking." " I must speak," replied Wallace, " as God
giveth me grace, and I believe I have said no evil to hurt any man."
'' Would to God," said the fanatical priest, " you had never spoken ;
I but you are brought forth for such horrible crimes of heresy as were
I 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
I ruinous to weak minds, but I will not say any more ; thou shalt hear
I 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 abominable in the
sight of God. 3. Thou hast openly usurped the ofl^ice 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
theer
Wallace heard them again read over one by one, as was the
custom. When the first charge was read, he turned to the regent
Of. SCOTS WORTHIES.
and the other nobles, and eaid, " My lords, I never said nor tanght
anything but what I found written in tin's book," (and he jDroduced
forthwitli 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."
Tliis of course was an appeal which would not be well relished by
the reverend fathere, who never once thought of appealing 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
liis apostles, and had fulfilled the ceremonies of the old law, he
instituted a new sacrament, in remembrance 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 iN'ew
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. Andrew's, with the official of Lothian, the
dean of Glasgow, and the other prelates, in the plentitude of their
wisdom, could make no reasonable objection to this statement, and
they replied, "We know this well enougli." The earl of Iluntly,
however, who probably did not relish the idea of being detained by
a polemical 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 w^hat
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 Huntley 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, how-
ever, to be so easily borne down. He declared, that the bishops
could not be his judges, because they were open enemies to the doc-
trines 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 a^ain 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 nut 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. M
If he expected mercy from such judges, however, he was covM
pletely mistaken : and this appeal fell like water to the ground.
rhe prelates saw at the same time that they had a man of peculiar*
disposition to mp'^age, and they resolved to^take him in particular on
ADAM WALLACE. ^3
his ideas of the sacrament. Lauder was accordingly instructed to
address him. " Thou sayest," said the accuser, " and has 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 om- 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, unworthily, 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 w^hich 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 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 abominable doctrine of transub-
stantiation, — a doctrine than which there never was a greater insult
on human reason in requiring to believe it, — was answered compre-
hensively by the humble Wallace. He knew not well, he said,
what that word consecration 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 the 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 Saviour
showed well himself, for the which everlasting thanks be to his holy
name ; for, v/hen the woman poured the ointment upon him, and his
disciples grudged thereat, he said, " The poor ye have always wdth
you, but me ye have not always ;" meaning his natural body. And
also at the ascension of the Saviour, he said to his disciples, who,
from their love to him, w^ould 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 (meaning 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 to the end of the world." And to conclude : that the eating
of his very flesh proflteth nothing, may be known from his own
words, recorded in the sixth chapter of St. John's gospel, where,
after he had said, "Except ye eat my flesh and drink my blood, ye
shall not have life in you ;" and his disciples murmuring, because
of their fleshly lusts, he adds, " What will ye think when ye see the
Son of Man ascend to the place from which he came ? It is the
spirit that quickeneth, for the flesh proflteth nothing."
The reverend fathers heard this address with astonishment. The
(54 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 lieresj^," cried the bishop
of Orkney. Wallace again attempted to speak, and desired the lord
governor *^ to judge whether he had spoken agreeably to the Scrip-
tures ; but he was interrupted. Lauder exclaimed, " Ad secun-
dam^^^ (to the second article), and " JVunc ad secundaw)'' was eclioed
by the archbishop, whose patience was by this time well nigh ex-
hausted.
Wallace was required now to pay attention to the second article,
which was concerning 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
abomination in the sight of God ; and as the mass is held in high
estimation, and is not founded 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 sub-
mit himself to lawful punishment, otherwise to punish him would
be unjust. This challenge, however, was not accepted by the
prelates. " Ad terttam^'' exclaimed the archbishop, while the pre-
lates all cried, " Heresy, heresy, let him be condemned."
He was next charged with assuming the office of a preacher,
without being lawfully called to the same ; and to this he answered.
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 assurance of his own salvation, which was
not to be found but in the Scriptures. A bystander asked. What
would be left for the bishops and priests to do, if every man should
be 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, 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
l)erform ; for we leave to them the preaching of the gospel of Christ,
and the feeding of his flock, whom he hatS redeemed by his own
blood, which is a burden heavy enough ; neither do we them any
wrong in working out our own salvation, as far as we are able."
As to the next charge, viz., that of baptizing 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
ADAM WALLACE. 65
shortness of time I omit and pass over. Whether dost thon grant
the aforesaid articles or no, as thou shalt hear them again ?" He
then read over the various articles exhibited against him, and asked
him whether he granted or denied them.
The answer of Wallace was simple, pious, and unaffected. " I
have before given my answers," said he, " and I have said nothing
contrary to the holy word of God ; and if I have done so, may God
judge me, and my own conscience be my accuser. If I am wrong,
I would wish to remain till the time in which I shall be better
instructed by the holy word. But if you condemn me, my lords,
for holding fast the revelation of God, my innocent blood will be
required at your hands, and you shall be brought before the judg-
ment 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 ter-
rible wrath ; to whom I refer the vengeance, as it is written, ' Yen-
geance 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 moulding, the hearts of his judges felt no pity, but thought
they did God service by the death of this amiable man. He was
condemned 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, condemned him to die at the stake, and he was consigned
to the custody of the provost of Edinburgh, to be burnt on the
Castle-hill the following day. The assembly now broke up, and
Wallace was conducted to prison for the night, and bound fast with
irons round about his legs and neck.
Thus ended the trial of Adam 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 occasion were men of the greatest influence in the kingdom,
whom Hamilton had convened by the authority of his brother the
regent, that he miglit make a vain display, and strike terror into the
minds of the Eeformers. With the exception of Winram, and the
prior of St. Andrew's, 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 symj^athy,
they viewed their proceedings with the utmost complacency, and
they left the church of the Black Friars in mutual congratulations.
It was not 80, however, with the beholders. 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 convinced
of the injustice of their rulers. Persecution, in every case, ought to
be avoided for religious differences ; but when that persecution extends
to the deprivation of life, by a cruel and lingering death, or indeed
by any kind of punishment, much more ought it to be execrated, by
every lover of truth, of freedom, and of his country. Great is truth,
and it shall prevail ; but they who attempt to establish their power by
intolerance, and their opinions by the sword of the civil magistrate,
5
66
SCOTS WORTHIES.
will be eventually disappointed in their expectations, and find them-
selves miserahlv mistaken.
Shackled with irons, as some vile malefactor, 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 looked to heaven
while overwhelmed with his sufferings, and found there those conso-
lations which the world can neither give nor take away. He had
sounded in the eai*s of his persecutors the denunciation of heaven,
and well did he know it would be fulfifled : "Vengeance is mine,
and I will repay it, saith the Lord."
A priest of the name of Hugh Terry had the charge of Wallace
for the night ; and he, in like manner, adding insult to cruelty, sent
two gray friars to instuct him ; AVallace 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 martyrrefused 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 exertions. The
dean of Eestalrig 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 conse-
cration. 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 exhort-
ations were of no avail, soon left him, grieving aUo that he found
him so obstinately persisting in his opinions.
Wallace spent the awful night preceding his execution in exercises
of fervent piety and devotion. He had committed almost all the
Psalms to memory, and he w^as continually engaged in praise and
prayer. He had been in the practice of carrying his Bible with him
wherever he w^ent ; 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 abusing 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 w^as
denied the last consolation, and even in a degree hindered from
WALTER MILL. 67
making his peace with heaven, of which Terry thought, by the act
of his sending priests to instruct him, he stood so much in need.
Next morning, preparations were made for the execution of the
sentence, which was to take place on the Castle-hill in the afternoon.
The whole affair as we have already said, was given in charge to the
provost of Edinburgh, who seems, in the issue, to have been fully as
persecuting in spirit as his superiors. During the day, however,
Wallace's judges left the city — the regent, with his brother the arch-
bishop, to their respective residences ; and the bishops and dignita-
ries of the church to their several places. Their prisoner was now
in the hands of the civil power ; and, having the authority of the
regent for the sentence, the provost of Edinburgh was accountable
for him. Their presence indeed was of little avail. The prelates
departed in triumph. They had left behind them a monument of
their power, which, they vainly believed, would be salutary to the
people, and increase the stability of the church.
The dean of Eestalrig visited "Wallace once more on the morning
of this day, in the hope that he would find him more pliable. But
in this he was disappointed. It was in vain that the dean discoursed
to him about false doctrine and the danger of his salvation ; it was in
vain that he even held out to him hopes that his sentence would be
mitigated if he would recant. Wallace answered him again, that he
would say nothing concerning his belief but what the Scriptures tes-
tified ; nor would he be persuaded of the contrary, even though an
angel from heaven should attempt to persuade him. Nevertheless
he felt grateful to the dean, and thanked him for the Christian
advices he had given him to preserve his fortitude, and he only
prayed that his eyes might be opened to behold the light of the
-*h.
WALTER MILL.
Walter Mill was born about the year 1476, of parents who were
in reputable circumstances. He received his education at the uni-
versity 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 Israel-
ites 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 accordingly Mill was educated most rigidly in the
g3 SCOTS WORTHIES.
popish religion. At the age appointed by the canon law, he received
orders ; but he was not connected with any particular monastery.
lie was shortly afterwards appointed officiating priest of Lunan,
in the shire of An<jus, or as it is now called, Forfar. In what
manner he first discharged his clerical functions does not appear ;
but very probably he was like the rest of his brethren, who were not
" righteous ovisrinuch." 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, an(?.
in common with many others, this examination ended in conviction
of the truth.
Mill had no opportunities of conversing with any of the principal
reformers ; but ne carefully studied the Scriptures, and these soon
opened his eyes to a conviction of his errors. With all that candour
and openness which mark an upright mind, he saw it was his duty
to preach the doctrines he now believed, or subject himself to the
charge of not being a faithful minister of the Kew Testament. He
accordingly left off celebrating mass, believing it to be gross idolatry,
and devoted himself wholly to preaching, and the instruction of his
hearers.
This conduct was too flagrant to escape notice in those days, and
accordingly Mill was delated to the archbishop of St. Andrew's, as
preaching heretical doctrines. 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.
Andrew's, to answer certain charges laid against him. The fate of
Patrick Hamilton, however, and others, was before his eyes ; and
he thought it most advisable to escape the flames, and consult his
safety by flight.
Mill retreated to the Continent, and at last took refuge for a while
in Germany, where, by associating with Zuinglius, Oecolampadius,
and others, he was more fully instructed in the doctrines of the Refor-
mation. While in Germany he occasionally preached, and at length,
completely separated himself from the Pomish priesthood by entering
into the marriage state. But 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.
Tliis feeling is natural to the man who has known that God is
gracious. He cannot remain in cowardly ease, while he sees othere-
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
WALTER MILL. g9
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
accomplished ? By miracles f 'No, veril j : their age hath for ever
passed away. By wondrous interpositions from heaven ? [N'o, 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 retirement ; 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 proclaiming truths which were
not at all relished by the clergy, they began to turn their attention
towards him. He w^as informed, 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 Ger-
many, or whether she died before he left that country ; the latter is
most probably 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 dismiss their preachers. Knowing
the circumstances of the queen-regent, that she found it her interest,
though a devoted catholic, to flatter the Reformers, and kuijwing that
he himself was utterly unable to proceed by force against nobles of
the greatest influence, the primate left himself transported beyond
all the bounds of moderation. 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 them-
selves. He saw it was needless to persecute the people, for, first,
that was out of his power ; secondly, they had begun to be as cunning
as himself; and, lastly, he held them in too great contempt. The
primate was actually at a loss What to do, or how to gratify his
malignity.
Hamilton was no stranger to Mill's conduct ; 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 feebleness,
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 deter-
mined to make an. example. The old process set 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 Andrew's, 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 indefatigable at
70 SCOTS WORTfflES.
first in endeavouring to persuade him. The priests therefore beset
'him, and at first tlireatened him with the most horrible tortures if he
would not recant ; but finding these unavailing, and that the con-
stancy of the martyr was not to be shaken by such means, they at
length tried flattery, promising him a residence in the abby of Dun-
fermline for life, if he would sign his recantation. This measure was
attended with little better success, and accordingly it w^as determined
to ]U'oceed against him according to the laws of the church.
The martyr knew well his fate ; but he preserved a marvellous
constancy, lie knew in whom he had believed, and his faith sup-
ported him under every trial. Let us proceed, then, to delineate the
last moments of a man, " out of whose ashes," says Fox, in his simple
manner, " sprang thousands of his religion and opinions in Scotland,
who altogether chose rather to die than to be any longer over-trodden
by the tyrannic of the foresayed cruell and ignorant bischops, abbots,
monks, and friars, and so began the congregation of Scotland to
debate the true religion of Christ against the Frenchmen and the
papists, who sought alwaies to depresse and keepe downe the same ;
for it began soone after the martyrdome of Walter Mille, of which
the form hereafter followeth."
With secret complacency did archbishop Hamilton contemplate
the efiect of the execution of Mill. He imagined he saw the protes-
tant preachers mute with consternation, the friends ot the Keforma-
tion trembling for their safety, and the church and his own power
acquiring fresh stability. But he was soon convinced of the falsity
of his speculations ; and he had the mortification to know, that, had
he been more moderate, he might, humanly speaking, have longer
retained his power, and not rendered himself so obnoxious to the
people as to hasten his own destruction.
Mill having resolutely refused to recant, an assembly of the clergy
was accordingly summoned to proceed against him. This assembly
was composed of various dignitaries. The archbishop presided in per-
son, and beside him were seated the bishops of Moray, Brechin, Caith-
ness, &c. ; the abbots of Dunfermline, Lindores, Cupar; various doc-
tors of theology in the university ; John Grierson, black friar ; John
Winram, sub-prior of the abbey ; William Cranston, sub-prior of the
old college, and others connected with the city. Mill was ordered to
be taken from prison, and brought before them.
The prelates assembled in the metropolitan church, and there was
the martyr brought to his trial, on the 20th day of April, 1559. His
appearance being that of a poor and feeble old man, he excited in the
minds of the spectators universal commiseration ; 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
prepared for the occasion, but he was so infirm as to require assist-
ance. He looked around him, nothing dismayed at the assembly,
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
WALTER MILL. , 71
"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 Almighty 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. — ISTow, say what thou pleasest."
The examination, which is exceedingly curious, we shall quote
from Fox, who says he received it ex testim^oniis 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 began his interrogations with
the following question :
" What thinkest thou of priests' marriage ?"
" 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 sacra-
ments ?"
" Give me the Lord's Supper and Baptisme, 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 slan-
derous and ungodly whoredom ?"
" Thou art against the blessed sacrament of the altar, and saiest,
that the masse is wrong, and is idolatrie ?"
" A lord or a king," replied Mill, " sendeth and calleth manie to
a dinner, and when the dinner is in readines, hee causeth to ring the
bell, and the men come to the hall, and site down, to be partakers of
the dinner, but the lord, turninge his backe upon them, eateth all
himselfe, and so do yee."
'^ Thou deniest the sacrament of the altar to be the very bodie and
blood of Christ ?"
'' The Scripture of God is not to be taken carnallie but spirituallie,
and standeth in fayth onlie; and as for the masse it is wrong, for
Christ was once offered on the crosse for man's trespasse, and will
never be offered againe, for then he ended all sacrifice."
•' Thou deniest the office of a bishop ?"
" I affirme that they whom yee call bishops do no bishop's workes,
nor use the office of a bishop, as Paul biddeth, writing to Timothy,
but live after their own sensuall pleasure, and take no care of the
flocke, nor yet regard they the word of God, but desire to be honoured,
and called my lords."
" Thou speakest against pilgrimage, and callest it a pilgrimage to
whoredome ?"
" I affirm and say, that it is not commanded in the Scriptures, and
72 SCOTS WORTHIES.
that there is no greater whoredome in any place than at your pilgrim-
ages, except it bee in common brothels."
"Thou pi-eachest 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 citius. Yee shall know that I will not recant the
truth : for I am corn, I am no chaffe : I will not be blowne away
with the winde, nor burst witli the flaile. But I will abide both."
Thus ended tlie 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
opmions ; on the contrary, they go from one article to another, with-
out making the smallest remark on any one point. This, however,
is the nature of Roman Catholicism, which cannot bear an investiga-
tion by the standard of truth.
Fox informs us, that his persecutors rehearsed those things on pur-
pose, " together with other light trifles, to augment their small accu-
sations." The patience of the reverend prelates was now exhausted,
and Oliphant was commanded to pronounce sentence against the
aged martyr, delivering him over to the secular power to suffer death
as an obstinate heretic.
The boldness and fervent piety of Mills, however, together wath
his venerable appearance, excited all the sympathetic feelings of the
beholdei*s. The whole city of St. Andrew's 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
80 much as one cord to tie him to the stake, or a tarre barrell to
burne him, but were constrained to cut the cords of their master's
owne pavilion to serve their turn." *
The prelates were now put to a stand, and they knew not what to
do. The archbishop, however, was resolved on his death, and at
length he most illegally prevailed by bribery on a domestic of his
own, named Alexander Sommerville, to act as a temporal judge.
The stake was prepared on the very day of his condemnation ; and
by this worthless domestic of Hamilton, the venerable martyr was
led forth to receive the crown of glory.
• Fox, vol. ii. fol. edit. 1631, p. 626; Spottiswoode, p. 96-
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 73
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
This nobleman was the illegitimate son of James Y., king of Scot-
land, by a lady of a noble and ancient family, Margaret Erskine,
daughter of John, fifth earl of Mar, and fourth Lord Erskine of that
sm-name.
James Y. had six natural children. His sons he intended for the
church, and accordingly he enriched his coffers by conferring on
them wealthy benefices as they became vacant, and by tliis means
becoming entitled to their revenues while the possessors of them
were under age. The priory of St. Andrew's at this time vacant,
was assigned to this son, then only three years of age. This present-
ation entitled James to receive the revenues. It was almost as
wealthy as the primacy, and it was the next in dignity. Tlie priors
of St. Andrew's were entitled to wear splendid robes and ecclesias-
tical ornaments on solemn occasions, and to precede all other digni-
taries of equal rank.
The history of the prior's juvenile years, and the manner of his
education, are unknown ; 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 compu-
tation, 1533. It may be remarked, however, that he at an early age
manifested those talents for which the house of Stuart was distin-
guished. As soon as he became of age, he felt that the idleness and
monotony of the ecclesiastical life did not suit his inclinations, and
he looked with dislike on a profession which doomed him to inglori-
ous 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
admiral, 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. Andrew's, and as he felt a
repugnance towards the ecclesiastical profession, he resolved to
embrace 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 j and, after a considerable slaughter, they
regained their boats with great difficulty. This was the prior's first
74 SCOTS WORTHIES.
exploit, in wliicli he displayed no small personal courage and know-
leage of military tactics. , ^ . .
The yoimcr queen about this time went to the French dommions,
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 unwittin|r 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 documents 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 proba-
bility 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 hospitality 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 with-
out influence at home, unknown, and disregarded, is too ridiculous
to be supposed for a moment.
As the prior grew up, his antipathy towards the ecclesiastical
profession increased, and he seems to have regarded his priory
merely as a temporal inheritance, the principal 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 incon-
siderable place ; and he is said still farther to have manifested his
dislike to the life of a priest, by his entertaining thoughts of a matri-
monial alliance. The heiress of Buchan was the lady chosen, and
there is a curious document extant — a mutual contract entered 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 yeai-s
of age.
In the intrigues which took place between the party of the queen-
mother and that of the regent, to deprive him of his office, the prior
seems to have taken no concern. It is not unlikely that he was in
France during this period, for it would appear that he became recon-
ciled 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. Andrew's, he acquired the priory of Pittenweem, and several
other benefices, both at home and abroad. He accepted of the rich
Eriory of Mascon in France, in commendam, with a dispensation to
old three benefices, notwithstanding 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 com-
manded 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
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 75
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 Eobert 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 mate-
rial damage.
The prior, to be relieved from all the peculiar restraints attached
to the clerical 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 lY., by a daughter of lord
Kennedy, had died at the castle of Tarnaway, on the 12th of June,
1554, and from the nature of the Scottish law, the earldom had
reverted to the crown. Its administration was conferred on the earl
of Huntly, who had succeeded cardinal Beaton, in the office of lord
high chancellor. Huntly was one of the most powerful of the north-
ern chiefs, and the earldom was consigned to his charge, by a charter
dated 13th February, 1548-9. He was, however, deprived some
time after of the earldom ; but for what cause cannot be ascertained.
On the prior's application, Mary, by the advice of her mother,
refused the demand, advised him rather to continue in the church,
and ofiered him a bishopric either in France or Scotland. He
rejected the proposal, and, offended at the ofiiciousness 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 cele-
brated, the French court evinced their perfidious intentions, by
making demands of a most extraordinary nature. They had first
allured the queen to sign certain documents, in their nature subver-
sive of Scottish independence, and after the rejoicings were ended,
the commissioners were requested by the chancellor of France to
deliver to the dauphin the regalia of Scotland, that the prince might
be crowned king of that nation. The ambassadors replied, that they
had received no commands from the parliament respecting these
matters.
The firm but respectful answer of the prior and his colleagues, dis-
covered to the French that they would consent to nothing which
might tend to produce any alteration in the order of succession to the
crown. They were speedily dismissed from the court, and they pre--
pared to embark for Scotland, with the pleasing idea that they had,
not sacrificed their country's independence. But, before they
embarked, four of the commissioners, and many of their retinue,
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 distemper
raging in the country ; " and even Mezeray, the French historian,"
says Keith, " seems to assent to the suspicion of poison, by the con-
ti-ivance of the duke of Guise and his brother, lest these commis-
sioners should put a bar to their intended measures against this
kingdom." The prior of St. Andrew's, it is said, also tasted of the
same potion, and escaped death only from his vigorous constitution.
7« SCOTS WORTHIES.
But the baneful effects produced a complaint to wliicb he ever after-
wards was subject. Lindsay of Pitscottie says, " that the physicians
hunp: up the prior by the heels, to let the poison drop out of him."
The remaining dei)uties amved safely at Montrose, and they imme-
diately 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 dis])layed
by the Scottish deputies, the French faction, under the influence of
the queen-regent, ventured to move the demand in parliament. The
duke of Chatelherault was the next heir to the crown, failing Mary
and her issue. The dauphin's right being thus incomplete, the
French court made a formal demand, in the 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 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 aftair, as to
make the French demands seem of little consequence. The parlia-
ment at once consented to this dangerous encroachment of power ;
and the prior of St. Andrew's and the earl of Argyle were deputed
to represent the nation, and to invest the dauphin with the matrimo-
nial crown. The protestants had favoured the measure, to oppose the
archbishop of St. Andrew's and his party ; while the dexterous man-
agement of the queen-regent gave her an influence in the parliament
wnich she w^ould 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 protest-
ants, who had cordially joined her in Mary's marriage, in opposition
to the designs of Chatelherault and the Hamilton party. The prior
and Argyle, though they were deputed to invest the dauphin w^ith
the crown-matrimonial, never went on their embassy.
The Reformation had made a rapid progress in Scotland after the
murder of cardinal Beaton, and the more frequent intercourse with
England tended very much to its extension. The reformers were
everywhere opposed by the church and by the state ; and the queen-
regent now endeavoured to destroy a party whose friendship slie 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 approaching 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 oflSciousness when he was refused the earldom
of Moray, and was disposed to favour a cause for which he had dis"
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY 77
covered an early predilection, he continued with her, probably from
scrupulous 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 con-
federates intended actually to rebel. The reforming lords returned
an unsatisfactory answer. The queen then summoned them to sur-
render 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 exer-
cise 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,
John Knox, and John Willox, another preacher. Knox bitterly
reproached the prior and his friends for not joining the congregation ;
accusing them of infidelity because they took no part with them,
when it was well known that they countenanced their proceedings.
This they acknowledged to be true ; but they said that they had
promised to the regent to attempt a reconciliation, and they would
not falsify their honour ; adding, however, that if the regent kept not
the proposed treaty, they would desert her without fail. An agree-
ment was made, she was put in possession of the town, and the con-
federates dispersed, after having been edified by a sermon from
Knox, of no ordinary length and vehemence. Although, however,
he was pacific in the midst of his rhetoric, he procured a new asso-
ciating bond to be drawn out before their dispersion, as he was
assured, he said, that no part of the queen's promise would be long
kept. This bond is known in history by the name of the " second
covenant," and was solemnly signed by the prior and Argyle, though
they still remained with the queen, by Glencairn, lord Boyd, lord
Ochiltree, and Matthew Campbell, in the name of the whole confed-
erates.
Knox's assertions were too soon verified. In tvvo days all the
regent's promises were broken. She entered the town, garrisoned it
with French soldiers, and fined or banished the inhabitants. The
civil authorities 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 congrega-
tion had the usual character of popular commotion. Forgetting all
moderation to those who believed not as themselves, they marched in
triumph through Fife, committing excesses which, though the reac-
78 SCOTS WORTHIES.
tion of the tyranny they had endured, 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 Srettled. In August,
1560, the celebrated parliament met which established the Keforma-
tion, and in it the prior was appointed one of the lords of the
Articles.
He was one of the chief actors in the war carried on between the
confederated 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 distractions 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 domestic strife, or the attacks of their powerful
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 completely broken.
No sooner was the death of Francis, Mary's husband, known in
Scotland, than a council of the nobility was appointed to be held at
Edinburgh, on the 15th of January, 1561. 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 some deliberation, lord James Stuart, prior
of St. Andrew's, 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, after he had condoled with his sister, to declare to her,
that the performance of the mass could not be tolerated in the king-
dom, 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 exjpose 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
be 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 indis-
putable right of every human being to worship God according to the
dictates of conscience. But as the exercise of any office in a state,
supposes certain duties to be performed, and failing in performance,
an individual is not eligible for such office : it therefore became
necessary, 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
wospect 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 w-^rjn of his " Historic," the reader is told to " note
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 79
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 commis-
sioner to France. The celebrated and learned John Leslie, the his-
torian, and afterwards bishop of Koss, 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 foresight, 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 Aber-
deen, sailed directly from that city : the prior, with a retinue uncom-
monly numerous, departed from Edinburgh, with the intention to
proceed through England, and accomplish the journey by land.
Having some business, either of a public or a private nature, to
transact at the English court, he was honourably received and enter-
tained by Elizabeth ; and of this circumstance, as we shall jjresently
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, hav-
ing anticipated the prior, arrived the day before his opponent ; and,
finding Mary at Yitry, in Champagne, there tendered to her his
homage. Mary received the ecclesiastic with dignity and respect,
and Leslie immediately unfolded to her the nature of his embassy.
He explained to the queen in glowing language the secret ambition
of the prior her natural brother, that his great object was to seize
the crown, — he warned her against his insidious eloquence and
deceitful proposals, because he had resolved to dissuade her from
bringing French soldiers into Scotland, by which he would be
enabled to strike a fatal and irrecoverable blow against the catholic
religion : he declared to her, that the prior supported the opinions
of the protestants, not because he cared for them, but because he
could render the protestants subservient to his ambition, — that the
whole of the prior's conduct was merely political, — that he wished,
from motives of policy, to extirpate the Roman Catholic religion out
of the kingdom, as to it he had uniformly displayed the most invet-
erate hostility, — that his only desire was to rise to power and mag-
nificence, and that his ambitious eyes were already fixed on the
crown and sceptre, — and he (Leslie) therefore advised the queen to
procure the prior's confinement in France, as consistent with her
own security, until she had re-established the ancient order of church
and state in her kingdom ; but if she was averse to this measure, he
advised her to comply with the advice of her loyal friends, and not
to trust herself among the reformers, especially among those with
whom the late rebellion had originated, but to land in the north of
Scotland, where she would find an army of twenty thousand men,
with the earl of Huntly and other noblemen at their head, ready to
escort her to Edinburgh.
The prior arrived the following day, and was introduced to his
80 SCOTS WORTHIES.
sister at St. Dizier in the neighborhood of Yitry. He was soon
informed of the conversation between her and Leslie, but he had suf-
ficient command 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 exasperated at Leslie's
advice to put him in confinement, he nevertheless conducted himself
with his wonted prudence. Mary received her brother with the
utmost apparent kindness ; 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 kingdom
— ^that she needed no foreign aid ; for she would find the nation
willing and obedient — that she would be supported on her throne by
the best defence, the affections of her subjects, who, he well knew,
would receive her in the most affectionate manner — that the great
object she ought to have in view was the national welfare, and the
1)reservation of that tranquillity which had so lately been restored.
Le 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 situ-
ation of affairs, excite the most dangerous commotions — 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 with-
out soldiers, and he became solemnly bound to secure to her their
obedience." Mary heard the prior throughout with the utmost atten-
tion ; and trasting to his apparent sincerity, she tenderly embraced
him, and committed herself to his counsels.
Pleased with the prior, and feeling towards him the affection of a
sister, the young and enthusiastic Mary confided in his professions,
conscious of the rectitude of her own mind ; and happy indeed
would it have been for her, had she suffered herself to have been
implicitly guided by his counsels in after life. She displayed all the
affection which the prior could wish, nor were his professions of
regard and attachment 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 lY.,
and which had been previously refused him during the life of the
queen-regent, who feared his ambition, and dreaded his talents and
address. Mary either gave him her promise, or told him that it
would be considered on her arrival in Scotland. JSTevertheless, he
was gratified by her flattering reception, and he now began to enter-
tain 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 returned home, taking his route
through England. He was undoubtedly impopular in Paris ; for the
catholics had not forgotten his opposition to the regent, and the con-
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 81
spicuoiis part he had sustained in the destruction of thg Komish
hierarchy in Scotland.
The prior left Mary before her embarkation, and proceeded home
through England, with the intention, as Knox has it, of preparing
Maij's subjects to receive her with affection. While in England,
the prior saw Elizabeth and her ministers ; and this has given occa-
sion 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 Mai tl and of Lething-
ton, — 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 reli-
gion 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 suggested 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 evidence 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 superfi-
cial 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 received 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 power-
ful 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
politician, with neither of which characters his enemies have 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 succession could not be altered, especially when Mary had done
nothing to cause such an act ; nor could Elizabeth inflict death on
6
g2 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Mary, wl^n the only thing alleged against the Scottish queen was
her Vefusal to ratify the treaty of Edinburgh. It is evident, we
think, from the whole aspect of the times, that the interception of
the queen would have completely ruined the prior's interest, and
that his enemies have merely laid hold of the fact of his passing
through England on his return home, to fasten on him the whole
odium of Elizabeth's procedure.
In her zeal for the due administration of the laws, Mary advanced
the prior to be lord-lieutenant and chief justiciary. The borders
were in a state of turbulence, and thither the prior directed an expe-
dition in person. Two criminal courts were held by him, the one
at Jedburgh, the other at Dumfries, and the military retainers from
no less than eleven counties were commanded to attend him at the
former town, and to remain there for twenty days. The borders, in
those days, were infested by armed banditti, who committed the
most lawless depredations, and whom success had made insolent
and intolerable. Far removed from the insolence of the two courts,
dwelling on the debateahU ground^ which had been the scene of
many a strife of death in preceding ages, the inhabitants associated
together in feudal dependencies, under leaders ferocious, barbarous,
and ungovernable. Attacking their enemies when they pleased,
they subsisted entirely by rapine and robbery ; nor did they ever
retreat from the objects of their attack without leaving terrible
marks of their inroads and devastations. To restrain such free-
booters was a matter of no small importance ; more especially as,
from their knowledge of the country, they could retreat to the fast-
nesses, and at least for a time elude the, vigilance of justice. The
military skill of the prior was profound, his courage in high esteem,
and the prudence which he had imiformly displayed in all his war-
like operations, had ensured to him a boundless popularity. In
order that he might be assisted against the border banditti, a strong
military force was ordered to attend him, raised from the above
number of counties ; for as yet the advantages of a standing army
were unknown. In this expedition his success corresponded to his
abilities, and his administration of justice was most severe. He
destroyed many of the strongholds of the freebooters ; he executed
twenty of the most notorious offenders, and sent fifty more to the
capital, to undergo the punishments of the law. At Kelso, he had
a conference with the English wardens, lord Grey and Sir John
Foster; and they mutually made some salutary regulations for the
preservation of the public tranquillity.
The prior was doubtless the great leader of the reformers, and his
presence and influence were powerful checks to the fallen ecclesias-
tics. The distinguished share which he had taken in the wars of the
congregation, and \\iq opposition which he had shown to the arbi-
trary encroachments of the civil government, early distinguish.ed him
as a popular leader, and he had secured the universal applause of
the people. It has been said, or insinuated, on the authority of
various partial historians, that his commission to quell the border
tumults was appointed by the queen, in the hope that he might there
fall a sacrifice to his bravery ; but no part of Mary's conduct just!
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. g3
fies snch an insinuation. It is, however, certain, that, though the
queen had no object to serve by such a design, as the very man
would have been destroyed in whom she placed the greatest confi-
dence ; yet the prior's virulent enemies, the catholics, would have
heartily rejoiced had such a calamity befallen him. This is evident
from the fact, that his absence on his commission afforded some
encouragement 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 borders, than the arch-
bishop of St. Andrew's, the bishops of Caithness and Dunblane, with
other zealous adherents of the catholic faction, hastened to Edin-
burgh. Leslie, bishop of Eoss, was already there, and he was the
well-known agent of the French interest ; he had advertised his
ecclesiastical 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 indisp6nsable part of the popish
ritual, the mass. But though the prior was absent, he did not want
an indefatigable auxiliary and substitute to watch over the interests
of the Reformation. Knox had entertained suspicions of the queen
from her arrival, which had been farther confirmed by the audience
she condescended to give him when he delivered his opinion " that
her conversion was hopeless," — and it was his constant theme to
declaim against her motives and actions. As his influence was
almost unbounded, his success was equal to that influence. 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 dissatisfaction. 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, may be obeyed in all civil and politic
actions. I think marvellously of the wisdom of God, that gave this
unruly, inconstant, and cumbersome people no more substance and
power than they have ; for then they would run wild."
The prior had now acquired an almost unprecedented degree of
popularity. Entitled 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 dis-
charged his duty on the borders with the utmost applause and dili-
gence, as lord-lieutenant, Mary began to think of rewarding him on
his resignation of that ofiice, and of conferring on him a distinguish-
ing mark of her favour. Accordingly, as he had always manifested
a repugnance to the ecclesiastical life, he was promoted to the dig-
nity and earldom of Mar.
About this period, also, the prior formed a matrimonial alliance,
84 SCOTS WORTHIES.
and he was publicly married in the church of St. Giles, to lady-
Agnes Keith, a daughter of the earl marischall. 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 ftiint therein
afterwards, it will be said that your wife hath changed your nature."
Tlie fears of the preachers were almost realized on this occasion ; for
the marriage was celebrated with such a splendour and magni-
ficence, as aroused all their religious apprehensions. They actually
dreaded that some avenging judgment or calamity would afflict the
land. Tlie utmost clamour was raised against the prior's riotous
feasting and banquets ; but their bitterness was still greater towards
the masquerades, A\'ith which he amused his friends, as being till
that time unknown in Scotland ; and, as they seemed to the
preachers to encourage gallantry and licentiousness, against them
the severest language of indignation was directed.
The well-known talents of the prior, now earl of Mar ; the in-
fluence he possessed in the state, as the confidential minister of the
queen ; the honours which he had received, and his general con-
duct, had drawn upon him a number of enemies — men who beheld
his exaltation with the utmost suspicion, and who secretly deter-
mined to efiect his ruin. The age was distinguished by its turbu-
lence, aggravated 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 insignificant
of his retainers, and ever and anon broke out with violence, as
circumstances seemed favourable. The Scottish nobility were gene-
rally 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 exten-
sive influence in the Highlands, — ^his followers were savage, and.
like himself, adventurous and daring. Already had Huntly signal-
ized himself by various achievements, and his untameable spiriv
pervaded all his dependents. In fact, they seem to have been
a kind of recognized banditti, subsisting wholly by warfare, attacks
on their neighbours, and predatory incursions into the territories of
those who had been so unfortunate as to incur the displeasure of
their chief.
The earl of Mar, while he was prior, and the earl of Huntly, had
been rivals for power ; and during this contention, mutual disgusts
had arisen between them. They were not less opposed to each
other in politics than in religion. Mar was the avowed leader and
.^^i±:S STUART, EAEL OF MORAY. 85
supporter of the reformers ; 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,
afterwards bishop of Ross, had been appointed by the Scottish
catholics as their representative ; 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 disstisfaction.
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 mortiflcation to see his
rival caressed and honoured. Even after Mary's arrival, he had
proftered his services to establish the ancient church ; and he
had conversed with her bigoted uncles on the subject, yet he was
disregarded. 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
mortifications were too great for a man such as Huntly — of illus-
trious birth, boundless ambition, vast wealth, and powerful resources.
But he was to feel other humiliations, 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 resigned that earldom to his mother's house ; and, not many
months after his first advancement as earl of Mar, the queen
gratified the wish which he had never lost sight of, by conferring
on him the earldom of Moray. As by this title he is best known
in history, we henceforth, of course, designate him as the earl of
Moray.
We have said that Moray had a number of enemies. His pro-
ceedings, his encouragement 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 personal injuries^ either real or
imaginary. Bothwell undertook to pepetrate this villany, while
Moray was with the queen at Falkland ; and it would have been
executed, had not the earl of Arran, detesting such a deed, sent
a letter privately to Moray, discovering the whole conspiracy, and
gg SCOTS WORTHIES.
thus he escaped the meditated evil. Bothwell fled from justice into
France. Moray's elevation, however, now made him more envied,
and his enemies secretly resolved to destroy a man before whom
thev felt awe and humiliation.
Iluntly beheld, with the most impatient indignation, the advance-
ment of his dreaded and detested rival ; and he at last reasoned him-
self into the belief, that a design had been entered into at court,
under the auspices of M<'>ray, to effect his own ruin, and utterly to
annihilate his family. Thi8*^idea was farther strengthened from his
peculiar circumstances. The estates of Mar and Moray had been
assigned to him, not as his own right, but merely in trust ; he had
ix)ssessed them for some time, and though he had not the slightest
legal claim, lie had always considered them as his own property.
"With maddening rage he beheld them torn from him to ag^-andize
liis hated rival; he complained, but he was disregarded. Fearing
the influence of his enemy in his own country, he felt these humi-
liations as the most decisive blows to all his greatness. He now no
longer disguised his intentions, but in defiance of the queen's pro-
clamation, openly took arms ; and instead of yielding those places
of strengti], which Mary required him to surrender, his followers
dispersed, or cut in pieces, the parties which she despatched to take
Possession of them ; and he himself advancing with a considerable
ody 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 favoured
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 brisldy towards the enemy. He found them at
Corriciiie, posted to great advantage ; he commanded his northern
associates instantly to begin the attack ; but on the first motion of
the enemy, they treacherously turned their backs ; and Huntly's fol-
lowers, throwing aside their spears, and breaking their ranks, drew
their swords, and rushed forward to the pursuit. It was then that
Moray gave proof both of steady courage and of prudent conduct.
He stood immoveable on a rising ground, with the small but trusty
body of his adherents, who, presenting their spears to the enemy,
received them with a determined resolution which they little ex-
pected. Before they recovered from the confusion occasioned by
this unforeseen resistance, Moray's northern troops, who had fled so
shamefully in the beginning of the action, willing to regain their
credit with the victorious party, fell upon them and completed the
rout. Huntly himself, who was extremely corpulent, 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 appointed 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 expecta-
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORA\^. 87
tion, 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 representa-
tions, operated upon her, and raised some sorrow for the destruction
of an illustrious house, and for a nobleman who was, notwithstand-
ing his faults, loyal to her, and attached to her religion.
Moray w^as 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 w-as guided by his counsels, and he in
return rendered her salutary advice. Indeed, 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
factions which had so long harassed them, though these were too
soon again to distract the country, a momentary repose was enjoyed ;
men felt the blessings of civilization and happiness. The people, in
general, were contented and happy ; Moray's conduct was viewed
with every respect and indulgence ; he was deservedly popular, and
his administration was salutary and useful. Of profound and versa-
tile talents, he equally knew how to govern in war and peace ; and
alike great in the cabinet and in the field, he had the good of his
country at heart, even though he made many of his public acts sub-
servient 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 protest-
ants, 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, wdien he
was only prior of St. Andrew's, and in arms against the authority of
the (pieen-regent. This was a necessary procedure, as it was pro-
bable that their conduct might be reviewed in some after period,
should an opportunity offer. About this time, it 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 meiisure, 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 occur-
red about this time. The beauty and accomplishments of Mary
were universally known ; and many of the European princes ardently
8S SCOTS WORTHIES.
Biglied to share her crown. With a kingdom as her dowry, joined
to her external accomplishments, she attracted the admiration of
numerous suitors.
Mary herself was not averse to marriage. She had remained a
widow for a sufficient period, and had honored the memory of her
husband by her exemplary conduct. But she felt that without a
vigorous government she could have little peace or security. Her
mmistei-s 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 religion, she felt herself without friends, solitary
and unprotected.
It was in the year 1565, that lord Darnley, son of the earl of
Lennox, arrived in Scotland, and was introduced to Mary at the
castle of Wemyss, in the county of Fife. The first interview made
a favourable impression on the queen. At that time, in the vigour
of manhood, his stature was tall and graceful, his countenance beau-
tiful and regular. " In beauty and gracefulness of person," says
Dr. Hobertson, " he surpassed all his contemporaries ; he excelled
eminently in all those arts which add ease and elegance to external i
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 amusement;
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
hei-self to the potency of those gentle feelings which elevate the
mind amid its corroding cares. The courtiers observed the sove-
reign's conduct ; her feelings escaped not their penetrating eyesJ
They saw that Darnley was beloved ; that the memory of all the
queen's former suitors was eftaced ; 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 hadi
claimed the earldom of Angus, to which the now restored countess]
of Lennox also alleged her right.
Foreseeing what w^ould be the consequence of the queen's marriage
with Darnley, Moray set himself resolutely to oppose it ; but findin|^
little attention paid to what he urged on the subject in the conven-
tion of estates, he chose rather to absent himself for some time ; anf
accordingly retired to the border, where he remained until that event
was consummated.
After the murder of Rizzio, Moray returned. Mary having hear(
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 connexioi
with the nmrder, perceived the importance of attaching him to he]
interest. Her natural regard for him also returned, and she felt in-
clined to bestow on him a sister's affection.
Accordingly, as the queen's accouchement was hastening oi
Moray resolved to take advantage of every circumstance, and
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 89
effect tlie return of Morton, Lethington, and their associates. He
begi'.n openly to plead for tlieir recall ; and his conduct alarmed the
bisliop of Ross and the earl of liuntly. They proceeded forthwith
to the queen, informed her of the facts, and enforced 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 unno-
ticed, save by instructing Sir James Melville to observe Moray's
conduct and that of his party with the utmost vigilance. The deli-
very 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 w^as delivered of a prince,
afterwards James YI. This important event was hailed w^ith every
sign of enthusiasm and joy. A messenger was immediately dis-
patched to London, to communicate the tidings to Elizabeth. She
was at a ball in Greenwich when she received the information;
instantly she threw herself into a chair in the utmost agony and
sorrow ; and for some time she appeared almost without animation.
At length she burst into tears, and exclaimed, " Alas ! Mary of
Scotland is the mother of a fair son, while I am a solitary and joy-
less maiden."
The deeply tragical incidents which succeeded, disgusted him
more and more at the court. With these the public are w^ell
acquainted. The murder of Darnley, and Mary's after marriage
with the assassin of her husband, has occasioned too much specula-
tion 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 implacable enemj^ was so highly honoured. Both-
w^ell 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 promising 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 Both well had fled to
Denmark. He then returned home.
On the 29th of July, 1567, James YI. was crowned king of Scot-
land at Stirling. The papers which the queen had signed were read,
and her resignation was received by the assembled nobles in the
name of the three estates. Morton, bending his body, and laying
his hand on the scriptures, took 4jie coronation oath for the infant
king. John Knox preached the inauguration sermon, and the prince
was then anointed king of Scotland by Adam Bothw^ell, bishop of
Orkney, — a ceremony which Knox and his friends declaimed
against as a Jewish ceremony. That prelate 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 effect of Moray's
accession to the regency were quickly felt. The party forming for
the queen w^as weak, irresolute, and disunited ; and no sooner was
90 SCOTS WORTHIES.
the government of tlie kingdom in the hands of a man so remark-
able both for his abilities and popularity, than the nobles, of whom
it was composed, lost all hopes of gaining ground, and began to treat
separately with the regent. So many of them were brought to
acknowledge the king's authority, that scarce any appearance of
opposition to the established government was left in the kingdom.
Tlie regent was no less successful in his attempts to get into his
hands the places of strength in the kingdom. By liberal bribes and
gifts from his own ecclesiastical property. Sir James Balfour deli-
vered 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 obedience. 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 banged
and part drowned. In another part of the border, he seized fifteen
more ; ^ve^ 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 muist 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 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
engendered that restless spirit which was destined to be transmitted
to the succeeding 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
until he was confirmed by parliament, nor did resistance to him
without this sanction imply high treason. This, of course, was soon
obtained. Many wise and salutary laws were enacted, which evinced
that the regent had the welfare of his country at heart. The parlia-
ment granted everything the confederates could demand, either for
the safety of their own persons, or the security of that form of govern-
ment which they had established in the kingdom. Mary's resigna-
tion of the crown was accepted, and declared to be valid. The
king's authority and Moray's election were recognized and con-
firmed. The imprisonment of the queen, and all the other pro-
ceedings of the confederates were pronounced lawful. The letters
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 91
whicli Mary had written to Bothwell were produced, and she was
declared to be accessory to the murder of the king. At the same
time, all the acts of the parliament of the year 1560, in favour of the
protestant religion, were publicly ratified ; new statutes to the eame
purpose were enacted ; and nothing that could contribute to root out
tlie remains of popery, or to encourage the growth of the reforma-
tion, was neglected.
The regent now pursued the murderers of the king. This surely
is a proof of his innocence. Several were taken and executed.
Intercessions were made for Mary's liberation by some foreign states ;
but the regent publicly averred what was the fact, that the queen
was not his prisoner ; he was amenable to the parliament, who had
ratified her imprisonment.
But while the regent was thus vigorously administering the busi-
ness of the state, composing internal commotions, and promoting the
happiness of his country, the aflTairs of Mary took a dififerent turn.
She had still numerous friends, — Moray had numerous enemies.
The length and rigour of Mary's sufierings 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 diflferent factions. His virtues
were severe, and his deportment to his equals, especially after his
elevation to the regency, distant and haughty. The house of Hamil-
ton 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, wap
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. Andrew's, were exaspe
rated to a man against Moray. Frequent meetings were held by the.
queen's friends to contrive her restoration.
Such was the favorable disposition of the nation towards th(
queen, when she recovered her liberty, in a manner no less surpris
ing to her friends, than unexpected by her enemies. Several
attempts had 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 hei
manners was naturally alfable and insinuating, 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 cir-
cumstances, it was scarcely possible to resist such a temptation. He
yielded, and drew others into the plot.
On the 2d of May, 1568, whilst the lady of Lochleven and his eldest
brother were at supper, George Douglas contrived to gain possession
of the keys of the castle, which were usually deposited in his grand-
mother's bedroom, after the gates were locked. The queen and her
attendants were in readiness ; her youthful deliverer conducted her out
92 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 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 ad-
venturers flew across the watery expanse ; but the plashing of the
oars roused the inmates of the castle, and an alarm was instantly
given. " Treason ! 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 oppo-
site shore, where the queen was received by Lord Seaton, and a
chosen troop of hoi*semen in complete armour. Mary again felt her-
self 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 ad-
vising 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. Her
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 pronounced treasonable acts
and usurpation.
Moray was holding a court of justice in Glasgow when he received
tidings of the queen's escape. Astonished at the intelligence, he
nevertheless prepared calmly to 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
nimself ; but he rejected the advice ; and, after mature deliberation,
determined to remain in Glasgow. His usual vigour and prudence
did not forsake him, and his proceedings at once displayed his reso-
lution.
In the midst of the regent's active measures to discomfit his
enemies, and to animate 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
government with the queen.
A battle, therefore was to decide the hopes of Mary and her
brother. The former wished not, indeed, this last alternative ; shej
♦ The keys of the castle were thrown into the lake, but they were found in 1805, afterj
having lain concealed since the above memorable event, near two centuries and a half, anrf
are now at Kinross House.
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 93
feared the regent's military talents ; she knew well that his officers
were all men of distinguished bravery ; and one unfortunate engage-
ment might plunge her into irretrievable ruin. But the Hamiltons,
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. Andrew's calculat-
ing on victory, had already in imagination placed himself at the
head of affairs, and planned a visionarj^ marriage between the queen
and a son of his brother Chatelherault.
The regent had mustered an army, and he now prepared with the
utmost deliberation to decide his fate. His only hope lay in an
early encounter. For this purpose he marched his troops from Glas-
gow, after reviewing them on the common called the Green. Mary
began her march on the 13th of May from Hamilton to enter Dura-
barton 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 resolution could be more im-
prudent. The regent came up to her army, and determined to dis-
pute 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 different in point of numbers.
The queen mustered 6000 fighting men, with a considerable 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 commanded the van ; Cassilis, the right wing ;
lord Claud Hamilton, the left. The regent followed the same order
in the disposition of his troops ; his right wing was commanded by
Morton, and under him Home, Lindsay, Lethington, and others ; the
left wing by his relative the earl of Mar. Glencairn, Monteith, and
their followers, with some harquebussiers, were stationed in the vil-
lage, 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 com-
mencement 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
94 SCOTS WORTHIES.
regent to flight, but in return they were sorely galled by his archers.
Her main body inarched gallantly into the plain, under a severe fire
from the regent's musketeers, who were stationed beliind the bushes.
The re":ent hastened 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 tlie 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 Ilume and Ochiltree. He
humanely restrained the fury of his victorious soldiers in the pursuit,
T)y 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 overturn 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 rested not till she reached the abbey of Dunrennan, 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 inflex-
ible. 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 ; nevertheless, if any danger was
evident, he would receive her at Carlisle with due respect. Mary
seemed as if fatally anxious to be in the power of her enemy and
rival ; the regent was active and indefatigable ; a revolting captivity
or certain death awaited her if she fell into his hands, w hat more
could Elizabeth inflict? Accordingly, without waiting for the
return of the messenger, 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 Cocker-
mouth, was conducted by Lauder to Carlisle, where she remained
till an answer was returned to her despatch to Elizabeth.
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 Bothwellhaugh, 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
Draphane, which surrendered at his summons, after which he
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 9^
proceeded to Glasgow, and thence to Edinburgh. Lord Huthven
compelled the earl of Huntly to retire northward, though he had
advanced as far as the Taj, 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, belong-
ing 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 Ken more, another of Loch invar'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 Hodam, 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
established complete tranquillity in the southern and western counties.
Nor was Moray less attentive to the administrcition of the laws, which
in some cases amounted to severity.
On the 16th day of August the parliament assembled, and, after
much reasoning, it was resolved to send commissioners to England
to vindicate their conduct. But none being willing to undertake the
business, the regent resolved upon going himself; and accordingly
chose three gentlemen, 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 fourth of October. After several meetings
with the English commissioners to little purpose, Elizabeth invited
the regent to London, that, by personal conversation with him, she
might be better satisfied about the state of affairs in Scotland. But
here the same difficulties stood in his way as at York ; he refused to
enter upon the accusation of his sister, the queen of Scots, unless,
provided she was found guilty, Elizabeth would engage to protect the
king's party.
The conferences ended in nothing ; less from want of inclination,
than from inability to prove. It was of the greatest consequence to
Moray to preserve the permanence 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 hand,
the declaration of Mary's innocence, or her release, would entirely
disconcert Elizabeth's plans. Her enmity was too great, not to ap-
pear through the mask of feigned affection and impartiality.
Although an adept in dissimulation, it was easily discerned she only
wanted a pretext to tyrannize over her ill-fated rival. And while
she temporized, the bonds of Mary's captivity were rivetting faster
id faster. If the motives of the different parties are balanced.
96 SCOTS WORTHIES.
reasons may be assigned for the conduct of each. The late king was
despised and detested by his subjects ; by Eb'zabeth 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 tran-
quillity. Finding it necessary, however, to take measures to secure
his authority and government against tlie designs of his enemies, who,
he knew, were neither few nor of little consequence, he called an
assembly of the nobles at Stirling, and received their sanction 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 acknow-
ledgment 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
proclamation 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, promised 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 Kilwin-
ning, 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
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 97
of the protestants in France had raised the hopes of the crest-fallen
catholics to such a degree, as to make them already elated bj the
anticipation of Mary's restoration and triumph. These things power-
fully influenced Huntly and Argjle ; even on Chatelherault, not-
witstanding his recent engagements, they had a visible impression ;
and he appeared irresolute, fickle, and wavering, still inclined 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 com-
motions. 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 superficial, — that the con-
tending parties still indulged their animosities and hostilities, — that
their suspicions, instead of being dissipated, were becoming stronger.
The regent had secret intelligence of the correspondence of Huntly
and Argyle, and of Chatelherault's irresolution. The day of conven-
tion arrived, and the nobles assembled. 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. Chatel-
herault, surprised at the regent's address, nevertheless assumed con-
fidence, and, in his reply, said that he was still willing to observe the
conditions ; but he wished to be informed of the manner in which
the affairs of the queen were to be concluded. His reply was evi-
dently 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 en-
gagements, no security would be afforded for his pretended alle-
giance. His resolution was equally bold and adventurous. Setting
aside all considerations of Chatelherault's rank, as the nearest heir
to the crown, he ordered him to be instantly apprehended by his
guards, and, with lord Herries and the abbot of Kilwinning, he was
committed a prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh.
This bold and politic conduct completely annihilated the hopes of
the faction. Argyle submitted : he applied for a pardon, and, as he
had conducted himself with considerable moderation, he was only
required to take the oath of allegiance to the king. Huntly was now
left alone ; his conduct demanded a more serious consideration.
While the regent was in England, he had been eminently turbulent,
and he had acted with remarkable ferocity in various districts, en-
couraging the devastations of his retainers, and plundering without
exception the adherents of the king. There were various discussions
on his punishment, which finally ended in his taking the oath of
7
98 SCOTS WORTHIES.
allegiance to tlie king at St. Andrew's. 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 strength-
ened his own power.
The regent had committed Chatelherault and lord Ilerries 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 greatness, both on
account of their high station and their pretensions to the throne, he
determined to crush the Hamiltons at every hazard; to undermine
their influence, and, if possible, to facilitate their destruction. The
part which they had acted at the battle of Langside was not forgotten ;
and the enmity which Moray and Chatelherault mutually entertained
towards each other was undisguised. But from them the recent would
have always remained secure from personal vengeance. It w^as the
des]3air and vengeance of one man which effected his destruction.
James Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, nephew to the archbishop of
St. Andrew's, was the person who committed this detestable deed.
He had been condemned to death, with six other gentlemen of dis-
tinction, two of them of his own name, the barons of Innerwick 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
Erison. This gentleman was a cadet of the ducal house of Chatel-
erault ; 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 Jolin 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 forfeiture for his concern in the battle of Langside re-
mained 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 for-
feiture was removed from all the gentlemen taken prisoners in that
affair, Bothwellhaugh excepted. After the confiscation of Hamil-
ton'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 Bellenden, lord justice-
clerk, one of the favourites of the regent, had asked and obtained
most unjustly the estate of Woodhouselee. As Bellenden knew that
Hamilton's lady resided on the property, he applied to the regent for
an act of possession ; and accordingly some officers were sent t^
Woodhouselee, who secured the house, and barbarously turned the
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 99
unfortunate 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
proceedings of those villains, the enormity of the latter provocation,
in thus savagely destroying the wife of his bosom, in addition to the
injuries he had already borne, completely overcame Hamilton's pru-
dence, and from that moment he resolved to avenge his wrongs, not
on the despicable villains who had thus so barbarously sported with
his feelings, but on the regent himself, whom he believed to be the
grand author of this injustice. 'Nor did he conceal his intentions.
He openly avowed, wherever he went, that he would endeavor to
effect Moray's destruction, and he accordingly watched his enemy's
motions for some time ; but he was invariably disappointed in his
daring purposes.
At length, unfortunately, an opportunity offered, which Hamilton
determined to 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 accomplisliment of the assassina-
tion : 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 enthu-
siasm. He believed, too, that he was doing his country a meritori-
ous 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 principal
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 contact with them. This tradition if not true, is at
least plausible ; for, as Hamilton well knew that there would be an
immediate pursuit, it was his interest to present as many obstacles
as possible ; and this trifling one, by his pursuers rushing through
the narrow entries, and finding themselves suddenly plunged among
the whins and bramble bushes, might contribute to his safety by
causing a small delay. He then took his station in a wooden gallery
fronting 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
100 SCOTS WORTHIES.
up a large black cloth opposite the window, that none without might
observe liis shadow. " Ilie next care," says an author, who graj)hi-
cally describes this scene, " was to cut a hole a little below the lat-
ticell sufficient to admit the point of his harquebus; 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 pre-
parations 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 per-
son, 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 accordingly resolved to proceed to
Edinburgh on the road which skirts the outside of the town, instead
of taking the street ; but, after mounting his horse, and perceiving
the gate through which he meant to pass blockaded by a vast crowd,
he turned the other way, through the principal street. Being built
according to the fashion of the age, it was exceedingly narrow ; and
as he rode along with his guards and attendants, the crowd increased
80 much, or a number of carts were purposely overturned, that it
was with the greatest difficulty he proceeded, 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 oppo-
site the very house in which his intended 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 of being gratified, he took a marked and deliberate aim
at the unfortunate nobleman. He pointed towards his belt, and, dis-
charging the musket,* with a single bullet he shot the regent through
the lower part 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 pursued for several miles, and
was at one time on the point of being taken : his horse was breath-
less, and almost ready to sink — ^whip and spur had no effect: and
coming to a broad ditch, his progress was impeded. A few moment's
delay would have placed Hamilton in the hands of justice ; but he
drew his dagger, and plunged it into his steed behind. The horse,
by a desperate exertion, leaped across the ditch. The assassin thus
escaped. He fl^d first to Hamilton, and then sought shelter with his
brother-in-law, Muirhead of Lauchope, who hospitably received him,
and protected him for the night. The following day he was accom-
panied a part of his way by this relative ; and after a brief conceal-
ment about the town of Hamilton, he effected his final escape to
♦ The musket is still to be seen in Hamilton palace, it having been presented to the duke
W » cadet of the famil j.
^aMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 101
France, where he died some years afterwards, expressing great con-
trition for the execrable crime he had committed.
Nothing could exceed the consternation of the multitude at Linlith-
gow, when the fatal shot was fired with such a well-directed aim. A
cry of horror and lamentation burst from the crowd and the regent'«5
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 dis-
mounted, and demanded to be led to his lodgings. He revived so far
as to be able to walk thither, and the medical attendants w^ere quickly
summoned, while the multitude and the inhabitants of the town
expressed their sorrow by their lamentations and tears. At first it
was thought that the wound was not mortal ; but towards evening
the pain increased, and the unfortunate nobleman began to prepare
himself for death. 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 dissolution overtake him. He recom-
mended 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 estimable man. Both
Buchanan and Spottiswood, though they differ in many things, have
given him the highest character. " His death," says Buchanan,
" was lamented 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 business, in which he was commonly very suc-
cessful : the Divine favour seemed to shine on all his actions ; he
was merciful to offenders, and equitable in all his decisions. When
the field did not call for his presence, he was busied in the adminis-
tration of justice ; by which means the poor were not oppressed, and
the terms of lawsuits 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
102 SCOTS WORTHIES.
clmrcli than a court; for therein, besides the exercise of devotion,
which he never omitted, there was no wickedness to be seen ; nay,
not an unseemly or wanton word to be lieard. He was a man truly
food, and wortliy to be ranked among the best governors that this
ingdom hath enjoyed, and therefore to this day is honoured with the
title of the Good Regent."
Nothing could exceed the dismay and suq^rise when the news of
the regent's assassination reached Edinburgh. The gates of the city
were closed, and the sentinels doubled on every post. His body w^as
brought to the capital, amid the tears and the groans of the people.
His many vii-tues, his vigorous administration, his talents, were all
recollected with regret. Elizabeth lamented his loss as that of a
faithful friend ; the i-eformed clergy were in sorrow and despondency,
pronouncing panegyrics on his public and private life. He was
interred in the cathe.dral 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, " AYould 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 splen-
did talents, with an ample revenue, and a person uncommonly
attractive, he despised the life of an ecclesiastic, and at an early a«^e
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 characteristics. 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 surrounded
by difficulties, he was never overcome : he could rise su})erior to them
all ; in adversity and prosperity, when either the exile or the
favourite, he flourished : his i)rofound penetration enabled him to
foresee dangers, his prudence to ])re])are 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 has the glory of achieving and establishing the
reformation of religion ; and it has afforded him a fame brilliant and
lasting. And whetlier we view him as at the head of the government
in those times of turbulence, faction, and strife, or impartial in the
dispensing of justice, restraining and repressing the wandering
incursions of freebooters, and establishing universal peace and order
JOHN KNO^. 103
over the country — we shall find that the Good Regent is the name
by which he deserves to be long and affectionately remembered
among the people.
JOHN KNOX.
John Knox was born in the year 1505. Thq^ place of his nativity
has been disputed. The most prevailing opinion is, that he was
born at Gifibrd, a village in East Lothian ; while the tradition of
the comitry 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, Eanferly, and Craigends, in the shire of Eenfrew. The
descendants of this family have been accustomed to claim him as a
cadet, and to enumerate among the honours of their house, its giving
birth to the Scottish reformer, a bishop of Raphoe, and of the Isles.
At what period his ancestors removed from their original seat and
settled in Lothian, has not been exactly ascertained.
Some writers have asserted that our reformer'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 ftir 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 fatiher, to the university of St. Andrew's, at that time the most
celebrated seminary in the kingdom. This was about the year 1524 ;
at which time George Buchanan commenced his studies, under the
same masters, and in the same college of St. Salvador.
Here he had an opportunity of studying the Aristotelian philoso-
phy, scholastic theology, with canon and civil law, the principal
branches cultivated in our universities. The Latin tongue was
universally known among the learned at that time, but not so the
Greek.
Knox acquired the latter language before he reached middle age ;
but we find him acknowledging, as late as the year 1550, that he ^\^as
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
104 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ill our life of Patrick Ilamil ton. Tliis famous preceptor taught that
the authority of kings and princes was originally derived from the
people ; that the former are not superior to the latter collectively
considered ; 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 commu-
nity as the superior power ; and that tyrants may be judicially
proceeded against, even to capital punishment. And as these
opinions bear an affinity to the political principles afterwards avowed
by Knox, the influence of the teacher is seen on the mind of the
pupil.
Knox soon became disgusted with mere scholastic learning, and
began to seek entertainment more gratifying to his ardent 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 sophistry then in vogue, calcu-
lated to fascinate the youthful and ingenuous mind. It had a show
of wisdom ; it exercised, although it did not feel 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 him-
self 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 philos-
ophy, most probably as an assistant, or private lecturer in the uni-
versity. His class became celebrated ; and he was considered as
equalling, if not excelling, his master, in the subtleties of the dialec-
tic 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 interests 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 sentiments, and
had an important influence on the whole of his future life. Kot
satisfled with the excerpts from ancient authors, which he found in
the writings of the scholastic divines and canonists, he resolved to
have recoui-se to the original works. In them he found a method of
investigating and communicating truth to which he had hitherto been
a stranger ; the simplicity of which recommended itself to his mind,
in spite of the prejudices of education, and the pride of superior
attainments in his own favourite art. Among the fathers of the
Christian church, Jerome and Augustine attracted his particular
i
JOHN KNOX. 105
attention. Bj the writings of the former, he was led to the scrip-
tures as the only pure fountain of divine truth, and instructed in the
utility of studying them in the original languages. In the works of
the latter, he found religious sentiments very opposite to those taught
in the Romish church, who while she retained his name as a saint in
her calendar, had banished his doctrine as heretical, from her pulpits.
From this time he renounced the study of scholastic theology ; and,
although not yet completely emancipated from superstition, his mind
was fitted for improving the means which Providence had prepared,
for leading him to a fuller and more comprehensive view of the
system of evangelical religion. It was about the year 1535, w4ien
this favourable change of his sentiments commenced ; But, until
1542, it does not appear that he professed himself a protestant.
His change of views first discovered itself in his philosophical
lectures, in which he began to forsake the scholastic path, and to
recommend to his pupils a more rational and useful method of study.
Even this innovation excited against him violent suspicions of
heresy, which were confirmed, when he proceeded to reprehend the
corruptions which prevailed in the church. It was impossible for
him, after this, to remain in safety at St. Andrew's, which was wholly
under the power of cardinal Beaton, the most determined supporter
of the Eomish 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 adversary. Having passed
sentence against him as a heretic, and degraded him from the priest-
hood, says Beza, the cardinal employed assassins to waylay him, by
whose hands he must have fallen, had not Providence placed him
under the protection of the laird of Longniddrie.
Thomas Guillaume, or Williams, was very useful to Knox, in lead-
ing him to a more perfect acquaintance with the truth. He was a
friar of eminence, and along with John Pough, acted as chaplain 'to
the earl of Arran, during the short time that he favoured the reform-
ation, at the beginning of his regency, by whom he was employed in
preaching in difierent parts of the kingdom. But the person to
whom our reformer was most indebted, was George Wish art.
Having relinquished all thoughts of officiating in that church,
which had invested him with clerical orders, Knox had entered as
tutor into the family of Hugh Douglass of Longniddrie, a gentleman
in East Lothian, who had embraced the reformed doctrines. John
Oockburn of Ormiston, a neighbouring gentleman of the same per-
suasion, also put his son under his tuition. These young men were
instructed by him in the principles of religion, as well 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 advantage from it. He catechized them publicly 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
106 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ruins of which are still apparent, is popularly called John Knox's
kirk.
It was not to be expected, that he would long be suffered to
continue this employment, under a government which was now
entirely at the devotion of cardinal Beaton, who had gained over to
his measures the timid and irresolute regent, Arran. But in the
midst of his cruelties, and while he was planning still more desperate
deeds, the cardinal was himself suddenly cut off.* His death did
not, however, free Knox from persecution. John Hamilton, an ille-
gitimate brother of the regent, who was nominated to the vacant
bishopric, sought his life with as great eagerness as his predecessor.
He was obligea to conceal himself, and to remove from place to place, to
provide for his safety. Wearied with this mode of living, and appre-
nensive 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, unless he should see a favourable
change in the state of his native country. The lairds of Longnid-
drie 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. Andrew's, which continued to be held
by the conspirators.
Knox entered the castle of St. Andrew's, at the time of Easter,
1547, and conducted the education of his pupils after his accustomed
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 cate-
chized them in the parish church belonging to the city. A number
of persons attended both these exercises. Among those who had
taken refuge in the castle (though not engaged in the conspiracy
against the cardinal,) were John Rough, who, since his dismissal by
the recent, had lurked in Kyle ; Sir David Lindsay of the Mount ;
and Henry Belnaves of Halhill. These persons were so much
E leased with Knox's doctrine and mode of teaching, that they urged
im to preach publicly to the people, and to become colleague to
Kough, \ylio acted as chaplain to the garrison. But he resisted all
their solicitations, assigning as a reason, that he did not consider
himself as having a call to this employment, and would not be
guilty of intrusion. They did not, however, desist from their
purpose ; but, having consulted with their brethren, came to a reso-
lution, without his knowledge, 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 perceived gifts suited to the office, and how dangerous it was
for such a person to reject the call of those who desired instruction.
* See our Life of Wishart, p. 57.
fOHN KNOX. 107
Sermon being envied, the pieacber turned to Knox, who was present,
and addressed him in these words : " Brother, yon shall not be
offended, although I speak unto jou 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 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 dis-
?leasure, and desire that he shall multiply his graces unto you."
hen, addressing himself to the congregation, 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
overwhelmed by this unexpected and solemn charge, Knox was
unable to speak ; but bursting into tears, retired from the assembly,
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 formalites 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 " th(^
whole counsel of God, keeping nothing back," however ungrateful to
Lis hearers, and of " preaching in season and out of season ;" the
manner of life, afflictions, persecutions, imprisonment, exile, ana
violent death, to which the preachers of the protestant doctrine were
exposed ; the hazard of his sinking under these hardships, and
" making shipwreck of faith and a good conscience ;" these, with
similar considerations, rushed into his mind, and filled it with agita*
tion 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 weakness" of his
servants, and resolved, with the apostle, '' not to count his life dear,
that he might finish with joy the ministry which he received of the
Lord, to testify the gospel of the grace of God." Often did he after-
wards reflect with lively emotion upon this very interesting step of
his life, and never, in the midst of his greatest sufferings, did he see
reason to repent the choice which he had so deliberately made.
His labours were so successful during the few months that he
preached at St. Andrew's, that, besides those in the castle, a great
number of the inhabitants of the town renounced popery, and made
profession of the protestant faith, by participating of the Lord's
Bupper, which he administered to them in the manner afterwards
practised in the reformed church of Scotland. The gratification
108 SCOTS WORTHIES.
which he felt in these first-fruits of his ministry, was in some degree
abated by instances of vicious conduct in those under his cliarge,
some of whom were guilty of those acts of licentiousness too common
among soldiery placed in similar circumstances. From the time that
he was chosen to be their preacher, he openly rebuked these dis-
orders, and when he perceived that his admonition failed in putting a
Btop to them, he did not conceal his apprehensions of the issue of the
enterprise in which they were engaged.
In the end of June, 1547, a French fleet, with a considerable body
of land forces, under the command of Leo Strozzi, appeared before
St. Andrew's, to assist the 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 necessity of capitulating to the French
commander 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
cnoose to enter into the service of the French king, were to be
conveyed to any other country which they might prefer, except
Scotland. John Eough had left the castle previous to the com-
mencement of the siege, and had retired to England. Knox,
although he did not expect that the garrison would be able to hold
out, could not prevail upon himself to desert his charge, and resolved
to share with his brethren the hazard of the siege. He was conveyed
along with the rest on board the fleet, which, in a few days, set sail
for France, arrived at Fecamp, and, going up the Seine, anchored
before Kouen. The capitulation was violated, and they were all
detained prisoners of war, at the solicitation of the pope and the
Scottish clergy. The principal gentlemen were incarcerated in
Rouen, Cherburg, Brest, and Mount St. Michael. Knox, with some
others, was confined on board the galleys, boujid with chains, and
treated with all the indignities offered to heretics, in addition to the
rigours of ordinary captivity.
From Rouen they sailed to ^N'antes, and lay upon the Loire during
the following winter. Solicitations, threatenings, and violence, were
employed to make the prisoners 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 company, 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 Begina sung on board, or on the shore within their
hearing : on these occasions they were brought out and threatened
witii torture, if they did not give the usual signs of reverence ; but
instead of^complying, they covered their heads as soon as the service
began. Knox has related a humorous incident which took place on
one of these occasions ; and although he has not named the person
concerned in it, most probably it was himself. One day a fine
painted image of the Virgin was brought into one of the galleys, and
presented to a Scots prisoner to kiss. He desired the bearer not to
trouble him, for such idols were accursed, and he would not touch it.
The officers roughly replied, that he should, put it to his face, ar^
JOHN KNOX. 109
thnist it into his hands. Upon this he took hold of the image, and
watching his opportunity, threw it into the river, saying, " Lat our
Ladie now save herself: sche is lycht anonghe, lat hir»leirne to
swime." After this they were no more troubled in that way.
The galleys returned to Scotland in the summer of 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 iu
the ship. But even in this state, his fortitude of mind remained un-
subdued, and he comforted his fellow-prisoners with hopes of release.
To their anxious desponding inquiries (natural to men in their situa-
tion), " if he thought they would ever obtain their liberty," his uni-
form answer was, " God will deliver us to his glory, even in this
life." While they lay on the coast between Dundee and St.
Andrew's, 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 persuaded, 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 imprisonment.
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 despondency, so pathetically described by the royal
Psalmist of Israel. He felt that confiict 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
Irom all his fears; and, reposing upon the promise and providence
of the God whom he served, attained to " the confidence and rejoic-
ing of hope."
When free from fever, he relieved the tedium of captivity by
committing to writing a confession of his faith, containing the sub-
stance of what he had taught at St. Andrew's, with a particular
account of the disputation which he had maintained in St. Leonard's
Yards. This he found means to convey to his religious acquaint-
ances in Scotland, accompanied with an earnest exhortation to per-
severe in the faith which they had professed, whatever persecutions
they might suffer for its sake. To this confession he afterwards
refers, in the defence of his doctrine before the bishop of Durham.
*' Let no man think, that because I am in the realm of England,
therefore so boldly I speak. No, God hath taken that suspicion from
me. For the body lying in most painful bands in the midst of cruel
tyrants, his mercy and goodness provided that the hand should write
110 SCOTS WORTHIES.
and bear witness to the confession of the heart, more abundantly
than ever yet the tongue spake."
Notwithstanding the rigour of their confinement, the prisoners,
who were separated, found opportunities of occasionally correspond-
ing with one another. Henry Balnaves of Ilalhill composed in his
prison a Treatise on Justification, and the Works and Conversation
of a Justified Man. This being conveyed to Knox, probably after
his second return in the galleys from Scotland, he was so much
pleased with it, that he divided it into chapters, added some mar-
ginal 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
opportunity offered. The reader will not, we are persuaded, be dis-
pleased to breathe a little the spirit which animated this undaunted
confessor, when " his feet lay fast in irons,'* as expressed by him in
this dedication ; from which we shall quote more freely, as the book
is rare.
It is thus described : " John Knox, the bound servant of Jesus
Christ, unto his best beloved brethren of the congregation of the
castle of St. Andrew's, and to all professors of Christ's true evangel,
desireth grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father, with perpe-
tual consolation of the Holy Spirit." After mentioning a number of
instances in which the name of God was magnified, and the interests
of religion advanced, by the exile of those who were driven from
their native countries by tyranny, as in the examples of Joseph,
Moses, Daniel, and the primitive Christians, he goes on thus : —
" Which thing shall openly declare this godly work subsequent.
The counsel of Satan in the persecution of us, first, was to stop the
wholesome wind of Christ's evangel to blow upon the parts where
we converse and dwell ; and, secondly, so to oppress ourselves by
corporal affliction and worldly calamities, that no place should we
fina to godly study. But by the great mercy and infinite goodness
of God our Father shall these his coimsels be frustrate and vain.
For, in despite of him and all his wicked members, shall yet that
same word (O Lord ! this I speak, confiding in thy holy promise),
openly be proclaimed in that same country. And now that our
merciful Father, amongst these tempestuous storms, by all men's
expectation, hath provided some rest for us, this present work shall
testify, which was sent to me in Koane, lying in irons, and sore
troubled by corporal infirmity, in a galley named Kotre Dame, by an
honourable brother, Mr. Henry Balnaves 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
consolation of m.y spirit, by counsel and advice of the foresaid noble
and faithful man, author of the said work, I thought expedient it
should be digested in chapters, &c. 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 justification
therein contained And I beseech you, beloved brethren, earnestly
JOHN KNOX. Ill
to consider, if we deny anything presently (or yet conceal and hide,
which any time before we professed in that article. And now we
have not the castle of St. Andrew's 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 good-
ness 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 constant 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 con-
fession 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 confinement to more severe
treatment. He returned 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 without touching anything that apper-
tained 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 cannot certainly
determine. One account says, that the galley in which he was
confined, was taken in the Channel by the English. According to
another account, he was liberated by order of the king of France ;
because it appeared on examination, that he was not concerned in
the murder of the cardinal, nor accessory to other crimes committed
by those who held the castle of St. Andrew's. Others say, that his
acquaintances purchased his liberty, induced by the hopes which
they cherished of great things to be accomplished by him. It is not
improbable, however, that he owed his liberty to the circumstance of
the French court having now accomplished their great object in
Scotland, by the consent of the parliament to the marriage of their
young queen to the dauphin, and by obtaining possession of her per-
son ; after which they felt less inclined to revenge the quarrels of the
Scottish clergy.
Upon regaining his liberty, Knox immediately repaired to England,
"nder the most favourable circumstances ; for Henry YHL died in
112 SCOTS WORTHIES.
the year 1547, and archbishop Cranmer, freed from the restraint of
his capricious master, exerted himself in advancing the reformation.
He had invited learned protestants from Germany, who, with our
zealous countrymen, 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 superstition.
The reputation which Knox had gained by preaching at St.
Andrew's was not unknown in England, and his late sufferings
recommended him to Cranmer and the privy council. He was
accordingly, soon after his arrival in England, sent down from
London, by their authority, to preach in Berwick ; a situation the
more acceptable to him, as it afforded him an opportunity to ascertain
the state of religion in his native country, to correspond with his
friends, and to impart to tlif rri his advice. The council had every
reason to be pleased with tlie choice which they had made of a
northern preacher. He had long thirsted for the opportunity which
he now enjoyed. His captivity, during which he had felt the
powerful support which the protestant doctrine yielded to his mind,
had inflamed his love to it, and his zeal against popery. He spared
neither time nor bodily strength in the instruction of those to whom
he was sent. Regarding the worship of the popish church as grossly
idolatrous, and its doctrine 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. Kor were his labours fruitless : during the
two years that he continued in Berwick, numbers were, by his min-
istry, converted from error and ignorance, and a general reformation
of mannei'S became visible among the soldiers of the garrison, who
had formerly been noted for turbulence and licentiousness.
The labours of Knox within the diocese of Tonstal, bishop of
Durham, must have been very disagreeable to the latter. As the
preacher acted under the sanction of the protector and council, he
durst not inhibit him ; but he was disposed to listen to and encourage
informations lodged by the clergy against the doctrine which he
taught. Although the town of Berwick was Knox's principal station
during the years 1549 and 1550, it is probable that he ^vas 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 lie 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 J
appointed for him publicly to assign his reasons for this opinion. 1
Accordingly, on the 4th of April, 1550, a great assembly being
convened at Newcastle, 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 complaints had been made. After an appropriate
exordium, in which he stated to the audience the occasion and design
JOHN KNOX. 113
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 proceeded to establish the
doctrine which he had taught. The mode in which he treated the
subject was well adapted to his auditory, which was composed of the
unlearned as well as the learned. He proposed his arguments in the
syllogistic form, according to the practice of the schools, but illustrated
them with a plainness level to the meanest capacity among his
hearers. Passing over the more 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 person 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 fool-
eries 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 itf
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 captiouslj^ 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 sufiragans. He continued to preach at Berwick during the
remaining part of this year, and in the following was removed to
I^ewcastle, and placed in a sphere of greater usefulness. In Decem-
ber, 1551, the privy council conferred on him a mark of their appro-
bation, by appointing him one of king Edward's chaplains in ordinary.
" It was appointed," says his majesty, in a journal of important
transactions which he wrote with his own hand, " that I should have
six chaplains in ordinary, of which two ever to be present, and four
absent in preaching ; one year two in "Wales, two in Lancashire and
Derbj^ ; next year two in the marches of Scotland, and two in York-
shire ; 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
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 occa-
8
114 SCOTS WORTHIES.
sion it is probable that he was called np to London for a short time.
Althoiifrh the pei-sons who had the chief direction of ecclesiastical
affairs were not disposed, or did not think it yet expedient, to intro-
duce that thorouf!:h reform which he judged necessary, in order to
reduce the worship of the English church to the Scripture modelyliis
representations were not altogether disregarded. He had influence
to procure an important change on the communion oflfice, completely
excluding the notion of the corporeal presence of Christ in the sacra-
ment, and guarding against the adoration of the elements, too much
countenanced by tiie practice of kneeling at their reception, which
was still continued. Knox speaks of these amendments with great
satisfaction, in his Admonition 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 holi-
ness of the papists, and to command common bread to be used at the
Lord's table, and also to take away most part of superstitions (kneel-
ing at tiie Lord's table excepted), which before profaned Christ's true
religion." These alterations gave great offence to the papists. In a
disputation with Latimer, after the accession of queen Mary, the pro-
locutor. 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 procurement 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 Eeligion 2)revious to their ratifi-
cation by parliament.
During his residence at Berwick, Knox had formed an acquaint-
ance with Miss Marjory Bowes, a young lady who afterwards became
his wife. She belonged to the honourable family of Bowes, and was
nearly allied to Sir Robert Bowes, a distinguished courtier during
the reigns of Henry YIII. and his son Edward. Before he left
Berwick, 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 having come under a formal promise to her, he con-
sidered himself as sacredly bound, and, in his letters to Mrs. Bowes,
always addressed her by th^ 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 the time,"
and indefatigable both in his studies and teaching. In addition to
his ordinary services on the Sabbath, he preached regularly on
weekdays, frequently on every day of the week. Besides the portion
of time which he allotted to study, he was often employed in
conversing with persons who applied to him for advice on religion -
subjects. The council were not insensible to the value of his
JOHN KNOX. 115
services, and conferred on him several marks of approbation. They
wrote diiferent letters to the governors and principal inhabitants of
the places where he preached, recommending him to their notice and
protection. They secured him in the regular payment of his salary,
until such time as he should be provided with a benefice. It was
also out of respect to him, that, in September, 1552, they granted a
patent to his brother William Knox, a merchant, giving him liberty,
for a limited time, to trade to any port of England, in a vessel of a
hundred tons burden.
But the things which recommended Knox to the council, drew
upon him the hatred of a numerous and powerful party in the
northern counties, who remained addicted to popery. Irritated by
his boldness and success in attacking their superstition, 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 submitted to
the present government, and their eager desires for any change
which might lead to the overthrow of the protestant religion ; desires
which were expressed by them in the north, without that reserve
which prudence dictated in places adjacent to the seat of authority.
He had witnessed the joy with which they had received the news of
the protector's fall, and was no stranger to the satisfaction with which
they circulated prognostications as to the speedy demise of the king.
In a sermon preached by him about Christmas, 1552, he gave vent
to his feelings on the subject; and, lamenting the obstinacy of the
papists, asserted that such as were enemies to the gospel, then
preached in England, were secret traitors to the crown and common-
wealth,— 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 therefore
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 Northumberland, who
had lately come down to his charge as warden-general of the north-
ern 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 protector of the
kingdom. Knox had offended him by publicly lamenting the fall of
Somerset, as threatening danger to the reformation, 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 reproving 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
116 SCOTS WORTHIER.
to the occurrence just mentioned ; alleging, as a pretext, the great
resort of Scotsmen unto him : as if any real clanger was to be appre-
hended from this intercoui^se 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 country-
men against England.
In consequence of the charges exhibited against him to the
council, he received a citation to repair immediately to London, and
answer for his conduct. The following extract of a letter, addressed
" to his sister," will show the state of his mind on receiving the
summons : " Urgent necessity will not suffer that I testify my mind
to you. My lord of Westmoreland has written to me this Wednes-
day, at six of the clock at night, immediately thereafter to repair
unto him, as I will answer at my peril. I could not obtain license 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 adversary, 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 afl^irm, 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 perse-
cuted? And Cometh not all these things to pass in ourselves?
Hejoice, sister, for the same word that forspeaketh trouble doth
certify us of the glory consequent. As for myself, albeit the extrem-
ity should now apprehend me, it is not come unlooked for. But,
alas ! I fear that yet I be not ripe nor able to 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 uncom-
monly industrious 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 promoted in the
church. It was resolved by the council that he should preach in
London, and the southern counties, during the year 1553 ; but he
was allowed to return for a short time to S'ewcastle, 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. Heinous 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
JOHN KNOX. 117
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 contrarious to my health than writing.
Think not that I weary to visit you ; but unless my pain shall cease,
I will altogether become 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 1 shall also remain
Monday. The Spirit of the Lord Jesus rest with you. Desire such
faithful as with whom ye communicate your mind, to pray that, at
the pleasure of our good God, my dolour both of body and spirit
may be relieved somewhat ; 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. The power of God may, against
the purpose of my heart, alter such things as appear not to be
altered, as he did unto Job ; but dolour and pain, with sore anguish,
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 resj:
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 yoimg king, was very disagreeable to Northumberland,
who exerted himself privately to hinder his preferment. His
interference was, however, unnecessary on the present occasion ; for
when the living was ofiered 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
118 SCOTS WORTHIES.
of the English church. His refusal, with the reason assigned, having
given oiFence, he was, on the 14th of April, called before the privy
council. Tliere were present the archbishop of Canterbury ;
Goodrick, bishop of Ely and lord chancellor; the earls of Bedford,
Korthanipton, and Shrewsbury ; the lords treasurer and chamber-
lain, with the two secretarit'S. They asked him, why he had refused
the benefice provided for him in London ? lie 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, discharge their office conscientiously in the
sight of God ; for no minister, according to the existing laws, had
power to prevent tlie unworthy from participating of the sacraments,
'' which was a chief point of his office." lie was asked. If kneeling
at the Lord's table was not indifferent? He replied, 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 invention of men. On this article there was a
smart dispute between him and some of the lords of the council.
After long reasoning he was told, that they had not sent for him with
any bad design, but were sorry to understand that he was of a
contrary judgment to the common order. He said he was sorry that
the common order was contrary to Christ's institution. They dis-
missed 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 YL, 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-ITallows, determined him to reject this
more tempting ofier. 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 promotion offered to him by Edward ;"
and we shall find him at a later i)eriod of his life exj^ressly asserting
that he had refused a bishopric.
During the time that Knox was in London, he had full opportunity
for observing 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 description, and gave
proofs, too unequivocal to be mistaken, of indifference to all religion,
JOHN KNOX. 219
and readiness to fall in with and forward the re-establishment of the
ancient superstition, 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 securit}^ 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 wounding the delicate ears of their royal and noble auditors, by
denouncing the vices which they committed, and the judgments of
Heaven to which they exposed themselves. The freedom used by
the venerable Latimer is well known from his printed sermons, w^hich
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
vented 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 afilicting tidings of his majesty's
decease with becoming fortitude, and resignation to the sovereign
will of Heaven. The event did not meet him unprepared : he had
long anticipated it, with its probable consequences ; 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
discourses 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, 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 promotions that were ofiered by him whom
120 ' SCOTS WORTHIES.
God Lath taken from ns for onr oifences ? Asenredly the foresight
of trouble to come. How oft have I said unto you that the time
would not be long tliat England would give me bread ? Advise with
the last letter that I wrote unto your brother-in-law, and consider
what is therein contained."
He remained in London until the lOtli 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
Urey. He was so affected with the thoughtless demonstrations of
ioy given by the inhabitants at an event which threatened such
Ganger 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 calamities which they might look for. Imme-
diately after this, he seems to have withdrawn 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 im-
prove 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 commonly
used in the congregations to which he preached, in which he prayed
for queen Mary by name, and for the suppression of such as medi-
tated rebellion. AVhile he itinerated through Buckinghamshire, he
was attended by large audiences, w^iich his popularity and the
alarming crisis drew together ; especially at Amersham, a borough
formerly noted for the general reception of the doctrines of Wict-
liffe, the precursor of the reformation in England, and from which
the seed sown by his follower had never been altogether eradicated.
Wherever he went, he earnestly exhorted the people to repentance
under the tokens of divine displeasure, and to a steady adherence
to the faith which they had embraced. He continued to preach in
Buckinghamshire and Kent during the harvest months, although the
measures of government daily rendered his safety more precarious ;
and in the beginning of November, returned to London, where he
resided in the houses of Mr. Locke and Mr. Hickman, two respecta-
ble merchants of his acquaintance.
While the measures of the new government threatened danger to
all the protestants in the kingdom, and our countryman 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 proceed 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 in
fluenced by religious considerations ; as from different hints dropped
JOHN KNOX. 121
in the correspondence, Mr. Bowes appears to have been, if not in-
clined 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 Sep-
tember, 1553 : " My great labours, w^herein I desire your daily
prayers, will not suffer me to satisfy my mind touching all the pro-
cess between your husband and you, touching my matter %vith his
daughter. I praise God heartily, both for your boldness and con-
stancy. 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."
Ilis wife and mother-in-law were very anxious that he should settle
in Berwick, or the neighbourhood of it, where he might perhaps be
allowed to reside peaceably, although in a more private way than
formerly. But for this purpose some pecuniary provision was requi-
site. 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 abundantly able to give him a sufficient establishment,
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 London, and attempted, by a candid explanation
of all circumstances, to remove any umbrage which, he had con-
ceived 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 following is an extract :
" Dear Mother, so may and will I call you, not only for the tender
affection I bear unto you in Christ, but also for the motherly kindness
ye hate 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 November, 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 orator 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
I
122 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 tliat no man's unthankfuhiess shall move
me (God supporting my infirmity) to cease to do profit unto Christ's
congregation, those days should be few that England would give me
bread. And I fear that, when all is done, I shall be driven to that
end ; fur 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 themselves. Affection does trouble me at this present :
et I duubt not to overcome by him, who will not leave comfortless
is afilicted to the end : whose omnipotent Spirit rest with you.
Amen.
He refers to the same disagreeable afiair 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 discover the sensibility of his
temper, the keenness of his feelings, and his pride and independence
of spirit struggling with afiection to his relations, and a sense of
duty.
About the end of IN'ovember, or beginning of December, he
returned from the south to ISTewcastle. 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
December. After that period they were thrown out of the protection
of the law, and exjDOsed to the pains decreed against heretics. Many
of the bishops and ministers 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 former government, had now access to rulers sufliciently
disposed to listen to their informations. They were not dilatory in
improving 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 accusa-
tion against the writer. As they contained merely religious advices,
and exhortations to constancy in the faith which they professed,
which he was prepared to avow before any court to which he might
be called, he was not alarmed at their interception. But, bemg
\ware of the uneasiness which the report would give to his friends at
JOHN KNOX. 123
Berwick, he set out immediately with the design of visiting them.
Notwithstanding the secrecy with which he conducted this jom-ney,*
the rumour of it quickly spread ; and some of his wife's relations
who had joined him, persuaded that he was in imminent danger,
prevailed on him, greatly against his own inclination, to relinquish
his design of proceeding 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 wnth the reasons of his abscond-
ing, and the little prospect which he had of being able at tljat time
to see them. His brethren, he said, had, " partly by admonition,
partly by tears, compelled him to obey," somewhat contrary to his
own mind; 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. ]^otwithstanding this state of his mind, he promised,
if Providence prepared 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 apprehensions 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 ]^ormandy,
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 deter-
mination of his own mind, his zeal and fearlessness would have
prompted him to expose himself. ]^o sooner did he reach a foreign,
shore than he began to regret the course, which he had been inducec'
to take. When he thought upon his fellow-preachers, whom he haf
left behind immured in dungeons, and the people lately under hi^
charge, now scattered abroad as sheep without a shepherd, and a prej
to ravening wolves, he felt an indescribable pang, and an almos'
irresistible desire to return and share in the hazardous but honourabk
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 discouragement to his brethren in
England, or an inducement to them to make sinful compliances with
the view of saving their lives.
He did not, however, abandon himself to melancholy and unavail-
ing complaints. One of his flrst cares after arriving at Dieppe, w^as
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 transmitted 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 w^as a large letter, addressed to those in London and other
124 SCOTS WORTfflES.
parts of England, among whom he had been emplojxd as a preacher.
'The drift of it was to warn them against defection from the religion
wliich they had professed, or giving countenance to the idolatrous
worship erected among them. The conclusion is a most impressive
and eloquent 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 a3
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 acquaintance, 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 reformers and the most noted divines of the Helvetic
church. The latter had already heard, with the sincerest grief, of
the overthrow 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 Christian hospitality.
He spent some time in Switzerland, visiting the particular churches,
and conferring with the learned men. Certain 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 infor-
mation from England, a journey which he repeated at intervals 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 residence in Switzerland, had helped to dissipate 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 dis-
coursing of the situation of the disciples of Christ, during the time
that he lay in the grave, and the sudden transition which they expe-
rienced, from the depth of sorrow to the summit of joy, upon the re-
appearance of their Master ; he adds : " The remembrance 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 Eng-
land, shall rise again, in despite of his enemies, and shall appear to
his weak and sore troubled disciples (for yet some he hatii in that ;
wretched and miserable realm) ; to whom he shall say, ' Peace be
unto you ; it is I ; be not afraid.' "
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
JOHN KNOX. 125
that she and the rest of her family had consciences equally accommo-
dating with his own. It was not until she had evinced in the most
determined manner, her resolution 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 relinquished the thoughts of this en-
terprise. 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 pros-
pect of doing good.
Wherefore, setting out again from Dieppe, he repaired to Geneva.
It was on this occasion that he first became personally acquainted
with the celebrated Calvin, and formed that intimate friendship
which subsisted between them till the death of the latter, in 1564.
They were nearly of the same age ; and there was a striking simi-
larity in their sentiments, and in the prominent features of their
character. 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 religious order established in it, he resolved
to make that city the ordinary place of his residence, during the con-
tinuance of his exile.
But no prospect of personal safety or 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 accurately of their situation, and learn if he could do any-
thing 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 afiaicting 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 Admonition to England, which
was published about the end of this year. Those who have censured
him, as indulging in an excessive 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 j^ersecuting papists in the blackest
colours, and holds them up as objects of human execration and
divine vengeance. We do not stop here to inquire 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 righteous men mentioned in
Scripture, and even of our Saviour himself. But we ask — What
terms were too strong for stigmatizing the execrable system of perse-
cution coolly projected by the dissembling, vindictive Gardiner, the
brutal barbarity of the bloody Bonner, or the unrelenting, insatiable
12e SCOTS WORTHIES.
cruelty of Mary, who, having extinguished the feelings of humanity,
and divested hereelf 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 disgust from the spec-
tacle, and continued to urge to fresh severities tlie willing instru-
ments of her cruelty, after they were sated with blood !
Knox returned to Geneva, and applied himself to study with all
the ardour of youth, although his age now bordered upon fifty. It
was about this time that he seems to have made some proficiency in
the knowledge of the Hebrew language, which he had no opportunity
of acquiring in early life. It is natural to inquire, by what funds he
was supported during his exile. However much inclined his mother-
in-law was to relieve his necessities, the disposition of her husband
Beems 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 contributions of those among
whom he had laboured. In a letter to Mrs. Bowes, he says, " My
own estate I cannot well declare ; but God shall guide the footsteps
of him that is wilsome, and will feed him in trouble that never
greatly solicited for the world. If any collection might be made
among the faithful, it were no shame for me to receive that which
Paul refused not in the time of his trouble. But all I remit to His
providence, that ever careth for his own." I find from his letters,
that remittances 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, obtained 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 used
by the French church, a prudent precaution which their political
circumstances dictated. The offer was gratefully accepted by the
English, who came to an unanimous 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 supersti-
tious and superfluous." Having settled this point in the most har-
monious manner, elected a pastor and deacons, jpro 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 accommodations, and unite their
Erayers for the afflicted church of England. The exiles at Stras-
urgh, in their reply, recommended to them certain persons as most
fit fur the offices of superintendent and pastors; a recommendation
not asked by the congregation 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, proceeded to
make choice of three, one of whom was Knox, who received information
JOHN KNOX. 127
of his election, by the following letter from the congregation deliver-
ed 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 H. Goaste (we hope), and have, with
one voice and consent, chosen yow so particulerly to be one off the
ministers off our congregation here, to preache unto us the most
lively worde of God, accordinge to the gift that God hathe geven
yow : for as muche as we have here, throughe the mercifull good-
ness off God a churche to be congregated together in the name of
Christe, and be ye all of one body, and also beinge of one nation,
tonge, and countrie. And at this presente, having need of such a
one as yow, we do desier yow and also require yow, in the name of
God, not to deny us, nor to refuse theis oure requests : but that yow
will aide, helpe, and assiste us with your presence in this our good
and godlie enterprise, which we have taken in hand, to the gloria
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 w^as averse to undertake this charge, either from a desire to
continue his studies at Geneva, or from an apprehension of difiicul-
ties 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 montli of November, commenced his
ministry with the universal consent and approbation of the congre-
gation.
When Knox arrived, he found that the seeds of animosity had
already sprung up amongst them. From his sentiments respecting
the English service-book we may be sure that the eagerness mani-
fested by those who wished to impose it was very displeasing to
him. But so sensible was he of the pernicious and discreditable
effects of division among brethren exiled for the same faith, that he
resolved to act as a moderator between the two parties, and to avoid,
as far as possible, everything which tended to widen or continue the
breach. Accordingly, when the congregation had agreed to the
order of the Genevan church, and requested him to proceed to
administer the communion according to it, (although, in his judg-
ment, he approved of that order), he declined to use it, until their
learned brethren in other places were consulted. At the same time
he signified that he had not freedom to administer the sacraments
agreeably to the English liturgy. If he could not be allowed to
perform this service in a manner more consonant to Scripture, he
requested that some other might be employed in this duty, and he
would willingly confine himself to preaching ; 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,
hey would burst into a flame of contention, Knox, along with some
128 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 congregation, had a great effect in repressing the keenness of
such as had urged the unlimited use of the liturgy ; and a commit-
tee 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, 1
would allow them without opposition to determine as they should'*'
answer to God and the church. They accordingly agreed upon a
foiTn of worship, in which some things were taken from the English
liturgy, and others added, which were thought suitable to their cir-
cumstances. 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 sub-
scribed by all the members of the congregation ; thanks were publicly .
returned to God for the restoration of harmony ; and the communion
was received as a pledge of union, and the burial of all past offences.
But this agreement was soot after violated, and the peace of that
unhappy congregation again broken, in the most wanton and scanda-
lous manner. On the 13th of March, Dr. Cox, who had been pre-
ceptor to Edward YI., came from England to Frankfort, with some
others in his company. 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 prac-
tice, they insolently replied : " That they would do as they had done
in England ; and they would have the face of an English church."
On the following Sabbath, 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 echoing the
responses. This offensive behaviour was a«:gravated by the conside-
ration, that some of them, before leaving England had been guilty
of ^ compliances with popery, for which they had as yet given no sat-
isfaction. This occasioned an unhappy difference between the pre-
ceptor 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 Fi-ankfort, he
felt much hurt at the treatment which had oblii^ed him to lea\'e it.
In reply to an apologetic epistle which he received from Dr. Cox,
Calvin, although he restrained himself from saying anything which
might^revive or increase the flame, could not conceal his opinion,
that Knox had been used in an unbrotherly, unchristian 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 Providence had disengaged Knox
JOHN KNOX. 129
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 conntrj. 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 attention 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. Andrew's, 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 opposition. There were still many protestants in the king-
dom ; but they satisfied themselves with retaining their sentiments
in secret, without exposing their lives to certain destruction by avow-
ing them, or exciting 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 conse-
quence 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 knowledge of the doctrines of
the gospel compensated for the defects of his education, was the first
preacher who came. After him arrived John Willock, in smumer,
1555, being charged with a commission from the duchess of Embden
to the queen regent. "Willock became afterwards the chief coadjutor
of Knox, who entertained the highest esteem and affection for him.
The union of their talents and peculiar qualities was of great advan-
tage to the reformation. "Willock was not inferior to Knox in learn-
ing ; and, although he did not equal him in intrepidity and eloquence,
surpassed him in affability, prudence, and address ; by which means
he was sometimes 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 p'ison of the Fleet. He was after-
wards chaplain to the duke of Suffolk, the father of lady Jane Grey ;
and upon the accession of queen Mary, he retired to East Fries-
land.
Although Knox did not know what it was to fear danger, and was
little accustomed to consult his personal ease, when he had the pros-
pect of being useful in his Master's service, none of his enterprises
were undertaken rashly, and without serious deliberation ui)on the
call which he had to engage in them. On the present occasion, he
9
130 SCOTS WORTHIES.
felt at first averse to a journey into Scotland, notwithstanding some
encouraging circumstances in the intelligence which he had received
from that quarter. He had been so much tossed about of late, that
Le 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
Lim at last to undertake 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 boundaries between
Scotland and England, about the end of harvest. He repaired im-
mediately to Berwick, where he had the satisfaction of finding his
"wife and her mother in comfortable circumstances; enjoying the
happiness of religious society with several individuals in that city,
who like themselves, had not '' bowed the knee" to the established
idolatry, nor submitted to " receive the mark" of Antichrist.
Having remained some time with them, he set out secretly to visit
the protestants in Edinburgh, intending, after a short stay, to return
to Berwick. But he found employment 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 AYilliam Maitland, younger of Lethington, afterwards
secretary to Mary queen of Scots. John Willock was also in Edin-
burgh 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 confined
to a private house, he was obliged to preach to successive assem-
blies ; and was almost unremittingly employed, by night as well as
by day, in communicating instruction 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 w^or-
sliip, and even the celebration of mass ; principally with a view of
avoiding the scandal which they would, otherwise incur. This was
very disagreeable to Knox, who, in his sermons and conversation,
disclosed the impiety of that service, and the danger of symbolizing
with it. A meeting being appointed for the express purpose of dis-
cussing this question, Maitland defended the practice with all that
ingenuity and learning for which he was distinguished ; 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 temporizing conduct. Thus was
a formal separation made from the popish church in Scotland, which
may justly be regarded as an important step in the reformation.
Mr. Erskine prevailed on Knox to accompany him to his family
Beat of Dun, in Angus, where he continued a month, preaching
every day. The principal persons in tiiat neighbourhood attended
his sermons. After he returned to the south, he resided for the mo*^
part in Calderhouse, with Sir James Sandilands. Here he was
JOHN KNOX.
131
attended by lord Lorn, afterwards earl of Argyle ; the master of
Mar, afterwards earl of Mar ; and lord James Stuart, natural son of
James Y., and prior of St. Andrew's, 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 beginning of the year 1556, he was conducted by Lockhart of
Bar, and Campbell of Kinzeancleugh, to Kyle, the ancient recep-
tacle of the Scottish Lollards, where there were a number of ad-
herents to the reformed 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, par-
ticipating 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 gen-
tlemen 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 popisli com-
munion, and engaged to maintain the true preaching of the gospel,
according as Providence should favour them with opportunities.
This seems to have been the first of those religious bonds or cove-
nants, 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 difierent 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 amrmed
that the preacher was an Englishman ; " a prelate not of the least
pride," (probably Beaton, archbishop of Glasgow,) said, " ]S"ay, no
Englishman, but it is Knox^ that knave?'' "It was my Lord's
pleasure," says Knox, " so to baptize a poor man ; the reason whereof,
if it should be required, his rochet and mitre must stand for authority.
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 pleased God
to call me from the puddle of papistry, let my very enemies speak ;
and what learning I have, they may prove when they please."
Interest was at this time made by the bishops for his apprehension ;
but the queen regent discouraged the application.
After his last journey to the north, the friars flocked from all
quarters to the bishops, and instigated them to adopt speedy and
decisive measures for checking the alarming effects of his preaching.
In consequence of this, Knox was summoned to appear before a
convention of the clergy, in the church of the blackfriars at Edin-
burgh, on the 15th of May. This diet he resolved to keep, and with
132 SCOTS WORTHIES.
that view came to Edinburgh, before the day appointed, accompanied
by Erskine of Dun, and several other gentlemen. The clergy had
never dreamed of his attendance : when apprized of his design, being
afraid to bring matters to extremity, ana unassured of the regent^
decided support, they met beforehand, cast the summons under
pretence of some informality, and deserted the diet against him. On
the day on which he should have appeared as a pannel, Knox
preached in the bishop of Dunkeld's large lodging, to a far greater
audience than had before attended him in Edinburgh. During the
ten following days, he preached in the same place, forenoon and
afternoon ; none of the clergy making the smallest attempt to disturb
him.
About this time, the earl marischal, at the desire of the earl of
Glencairn, attended an evening exhortation delivered by Knox. He
was so much pleased with it, that he joined with Glencairn, in urging
the preacher to write a letter to the queen regent, which they thought
might have the eftect of inclining her to protect the reformed
preachei's, if not also to give a favourable ear to their doctrine.
With this request he was induced to comply.
As a specimen of the manner in which this letter was written, we
shall give the following quotation, in the original language. " 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 un worth ie
to live in the earth. And wonder it is, that the voces of the
multitude suld not have so inflamed your Grace's hart with just
hatred of such a one as I am accuseit to be, that all acces to pitie
suld have bene schute up. I am traduceit as ane heretick, accusit as
a fais teacher, and seducer of the pepill, besydis uther opprobries,
whilk (affirmit be men of warldlie honour and estimatoun) may
easelie kendill the wrath of majestratis, whair innocencie in not
knawin. But blissit be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Chryst,
who, by the dew of his heavenlie grace, hath so quenchit the fyre of
displeasure as yit in your Grace's hart, (whilk of lait dayis 1 have
unaerstaud) that Sathan is fnistrat of his interpryse and purpois.
Whilk is to my hart no small comfort ; not so muche (God is witnes)
for any benefit that I can 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 des]>erat cause."
Though Ejiox's pen was not the most smooth nor delicate, and he
often irritated by the plainness and severity of his language, 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 inquiries, 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
JOHN KNOX. 133
determined to preserve moderation between the contending parties.
Notwithstanding her imposing manners, the regent w^as 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
pasqnil. Tlje 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 Scotland, 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 journey.
His wife and mother-in-law had by this time joined him at Edin-
burgh ; and Mrs. Bowes, being now a widow, resolved to accompany
her daughter and her husband to Geneva. Having sent them before
him in a vessel, to Dieppe, Knox again visited and took his leave of
the brethren in the different places where he had preached. Campbell
of Kinzancleugh 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 remain in Scotland, but he resisted all
their importunities. " If God so blessed their small beginning," he
said, " that they continued in godliness, whensoever they pleased to
command him, they should find him obedient. But once he must
needs visit that little flock, which the wickedness of men had com-
pelled 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 following years. This short period was the
most quiet of his life. In the bosom of his own family, he experi-
enced 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 preached ; 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 literary society, nor the endearments of domestic happi-
134 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ness, could snbdiic our reforiner''s ruling passion, or unfix his
determination to return to Scotland, as soon as an opportunity should
offer for advancing the reformation among his countrymen. In a
letter written to some of his friends in Edinburgh, March 16, 1557,
we find him expressing himself thus : " My own motion and daily
prayer is, not only that'l may visit you, but also that with joy I may
end my battle among you. And assure yourselves of that, that
■whenever a greater number among you shall call upon me than now
hath bound me to serve them, by his grace it shall not be the fear of
punishment, 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
overwhelmed men of ordinary spirits, and emboldened 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 religion. 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 w^e openly profess : by the
permission of God, they may appear to prevail against 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 adversaries were daily
losing credit in the nation, and that those who possessed the supreme
authority, although they had not yet declared themselves friendly,
Btill refrained from pei'secution ; 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 sub-
mitted it to Calvin 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, signifying, 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 atfairs, he took an aflfectiouate leave of
JOHN KNOX. 135
liis friends at Geneva, and went to Dieppe, in the beginning of
October. 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 disconcerted and embarrassed him.
He instantly despatched a letter to the nobility who had invited him,
upbraiding them for their timidity and inconstancy.
Having sent off this letter, with others written in the same strain,
to Erskine of Dun, Wishart of Pitarrow, and some other gentlemen
of his acquaintance, he resolved to spend some time in the interior
of France, hoping to receive in a little more favourable accounts from
Scotland. The reformed doctrine had been early introduced into the
kingdom of France ; it had been watered with the blood of many
martyrs ; and all the violence and barbarity which had been
employed, had not been able to extirpate it, or prevent it from
spreading among all ranks. The Parisian protestants were at
present smarting 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 private 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 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 a preface
and additions to it, intending to publish it for the use of his
countrymen.
Having acquired the French language, and formed an acquaint-
ance with many of the protestants, he occasionally preached to them
in passing through the country. It seems to have been on the
present occasion, that he preached in the city of Rochelle, 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 Edinburgh. 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, Ivnox
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
reformation, we must take into view not only his personal labours,
136 SCOTS WORTHIES.
but also tlie epistolary correspondence which he maintained with hia
countrymen. Ey this, lie instructed them in his absence, communi-
cated iiis own advice, and that of the learned among whom he resided,
upon every difficult case which occurred, and animated them to con-
stancy and perseverance. The letters which he wrote at this time
deserve particular attention in this view. In both of them he pru-
dently avoids any reference to his late disappointment.
In the first letter he strongly inculcates purity of morals, and warns
all who professed the reformed religion against those irregularities
of life, which were improved to the disparagement of their cause, by
two classes of persons ; by the papists, who, although the same vices
prevailed in a far higher degree among themselves, represented them
as the native fruits of the protestant doctrine ; and by a new sect,
who were enemies to superstition, and had belonged to their own
society ; but having deserted it, had become scarcely less hostile to
them than the papists. The principal design of this letter was to
put them on their guard against the arts of this class of persons, and
to expose their leading errors.
His letter to the protestant lords breathes a spirit of ardent and
noble piety. lie 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 advancement 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 aggrandizement, or the revenging of their petty,
private 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 ; wiiich, from the place where it was composed 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 exhortation ; 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 of these tracts, which was
chiefly intended for removing the prejudices of catholics. The last
was more immediately designed for instructing and animating such
as were friendly to the reformed religion. Addressing himself to
the nobility and estates, he shows that the care and reformation 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 revela-
tion ; and he would not insist long upon that topic, lest he should
seem to suppose them " lesse careful over God's true religion, thau
were the Ethuickes over their idolatrie." Inferior magistrates, withip
JOHN KNOX.
137
the sphere of their jurisdiction — the nobles and estates of a kingdom,
as well as kings and princes — were bound to attend to this higli duty.
He then addresses himself to the commonality 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 accountable
for their conduct ; they were bound to judge of the truth of religion,
and to make profession of it, as well as kings, nobles, or bishops.
If idolatry was maintained, if the gospel was suppressed, if the
blood of the innocent was shed, how could they be exculpated,
provided they kept silence, and did not exert themselves to prevent
these evils.
But the most singular treatise published this ,year by Knox, and
that which made the greatest noise, was. The First Blast of the
Trumpet against the Monstrous Begiment of Women ; in which he
attacked with great vehemence, the practice of admitting females to
the government of nations. There is some reason to think that his
mind was struck with the incongruity of this practice, as early as
Mary's accession to the throne of England. This was probably one
of the points on which he had conferred with the Swiss divines in
1554. It is certain, from a letter written 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 deference to the opinions of
others. But at last, provoked by the tyranny of the queen of
England, and wearied out with her increasing cruelties, he applied
the trumpet to his mouth, and uttered a terrible blast. " To promote
a woman to bear rule, superiority, 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 approved ordinance ;
and, finally, it is the subversion of all equity and justice." Such is
the first sentence and principal proposition of the work.
Our reformer's letter to the protestant lords in Scotland produced
its intended effect, in re-animating their drooping courage. At a
consultative meeting held at Edinburgh, in December, 1557, they
unanimously resolved to adhere to one another, and exert themselves
for the advancement of the reformation. Having subscribed a
solemn bond of mutual assurance, they renewed their invitation to
Knox ; and being afraid that he might hesitate on account of their
former irresolution, they wrote to Calvin to employ his influence to
induce him to comply. Their letters did not reach Geneva until
Kovember, 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 nourishing 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 pursuance of the
instructions which he left behind 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
138 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 dispen-
sation of the sacraments ; but certain intelligent and pious men of
their number were chosen, to read the Scriptures, exhort, and oifer
up prayers, in their assemblies. Convinced of the necessity of order
and discipline in their societies, and desirous to have them organized,
as far as within their power, agreeably to the institution of Christ,
they next proceeded to choose elders, for the inspection of their
manners, to whom they promised subjection ; and deacons, for the
collection and distribution of alms to the poor. Edinburgh was the
first place in which this order was established — Dundee the first town
in which a reformed church was completely organized, provided
with a regular minister, and the dispensation of the sacraments.
During the war with England, which began in Autumn, 1556, and
continued through the following year, the protestants enjoyed con-
siderable 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 returned 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 wanted not inclination to put a stop to them.
They prevailed on the queen regent to summon the protestant
preachers ; but the interposition of the gentlemen of the west coun-
try obliged her to abandon the process against them. At length, the
clergy determined to revive those cruel measures which, since the
year 1550, had been suspended by the political circumstances of the
Kingdom, more than by their clemency or moderation. In April,
1559, the archbishop of St. Andrew's committed to the flames
"Walter Mill,* and summoned several others to appear, on a charge
of heresy, before a convention of the clergy at Edinburgh.
This barbarous and illegal execution produced effects of the great-
est importance. It raised the horror of the nation to an incredible
pitch ; and as it was believed, at that time, that the regent was not
accsssory to the deed, their indignation was directed wholly against
the clergy. Throwing aside all fear, and those restraints which pru-
dence, or a regard to established order, had hitherto imposed on
them, the people now assembled openly to join in the reformed
worship, and avowed their determination to adhere to it at all
hazards. The protestant leaders laid their complaints, in a regular
and respectful manner, before the regent, and repeated their petition,
that she would, by her authority, and in concurrence with the parlia-
ment, restrain the tyrannical proceedings of the clergy, correct the
flagrant and insufferable abuses which prevailed in the church, and
grant to them and their brethren the liberty of religious instruction
and worship — at least according to a restricted plan, which they laid
before her, and to which they were willing to submit, until such
time as their grievances were deliberately examined and redressed.
The regent's reply was euch as to persuade them that she wafj
* See MiU's Life.
JOHN KNOX. 139
friendly to their proposals : 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 invitation 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 Eliza-
beth, 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 bi'ethren in different places of the continent, particu-
larly at Frankfort, congratulating 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 endeavouring 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, re-
questing permission to travel through England, on his way to Scot-
land.
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.
^ jN'otwithstanding 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 enter-
tained suspicions of the sincerity of her professions. But, since he
left Geneva, they had been confirmed ; and the information which
he had procured, in travelling through France, conspired with the
intelligence which he had lately received from Scotland, in convinc-
mg 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 ambi-
tion of the princes of Lorraine, brothers of the queen regent of Scot-
land, has been developed, and described with great accuracy and
ability, by a celebrated modern historian. Suffice it to say here, that
the court of France, under their influence, had resolved to set up
the claim of the yoimg 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 refor-
mation, 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
140 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Bome knowledge of the plan. He was convinced that the Scottish
reformers were unable to resist the power of France, which was to
be directed against them ; and that it was the interest as well as
duty of the English court, to aiford 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 of the facts that had come to his know-
ledge. The assistance which Elizabeth granted to the Scottish pro-
testants, in 1559 and 1560, was dictated by the soundest policy. It
baffled and defeated the designs of her enemies at the very outset ;
it gave her an influence over Scotland, which all her predecessors !
coukl not obtain ; it secured the stability of her government, by
extending and strengthening the protestant interest, the principal
pillar on which it rested. And it reflects not a little credit on our
reformer's sagacity, 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 determination forcibly to suppress the
reformation. As long as she stood in need of the assistance of the
protestants to support her authority against the Ilamiltons, 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 consum-
mate 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 parliament a petition which
thej^ had prepared ; nor would they believe her insincere, even after
difterent parts of her conduct had afforded strong grounds for
suspicion. But, having accomplished the great objects which she
had in view, she at last, in conformity with instructions from France,
and secret engagements with the clergy, adopted measures w^hich
completely undeceived them, and discovered the gulf into which they
were ready to be precipitated. Some of the protestant leaders having
waited on her to intercede in behalf of their preachers, who hac
been summoned by her, she told them in plain terms, that " in spite
of them, they should be all banished from Scotland, although they
preached as truly as ever St. Paul did :" and when they reminded
her of the repeated promises of protection that she had given them,
she unblushingly replied, that " it became not subjects to burden
their princes with promises, 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 themselves as released
from allegiance to her, and warned her very freely of the dangerous
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,
JOHN KNOX. 141
she renewed the process, and summoned all the preachers to appear
at Stirling, on the 10th of May, to undergo a trial.
Although his own cause was prejudged, and sentence already pro-
nounced against him, he did not hesitate a moment in resolving to
present himself voluntarily at Stirling, to assist his brethren in their
defence, 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 adher-
ence to the doctrines for which they were accused. The providential
arrival of such an able champion of the cause, at this crisis, must
have been very encouraging to the assembly ; and the liberty of
accompanying them, which he requested, was readily granted.
Lest the unexpected approach of such a multitude, though
unarmed, should alarm or offend the regent, the congregation (for so
the protestants began at this time to be called) agreed to stop at
Perth, and sent Erskine of Dun before them to Stirling, to acquaint
her with the peaceable object and manner of their coming. Appre-
hensive 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 testified their pacific intentions by a cheerful com-
pliance with this request, and the great part, confiding in the royal
promise, returned to their homes. But when the day of trial came,
the summons was called by the orders of the queen, the accused
were outlawed for not appearing, and all were prohibited under the
pain of rebellion, from harbouring or assisting then>.
Escaping from Stirling, Erskine brought to' Perth the intelligence
of this disgraceful transaction, which could not fail to incense the
protestants. It happened that, on the same day on which the news
came, Knox, who remained at Perth, preached a sermon, in which he
exposed the idolatry of the mass, and of image-worship. Sermon
being ended, the audience quietly dismissed ; a few idle persons only
loitered in the church, when an imprudent priest, wishing either to
try the disposition of the people, or to show his contempt of the
doctrine which had been just delivered, uncovered a rich altar-piece
decorated with images, and prepared to celebrate mass. A boy
having uttered some expressions 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 present who had taken part with the boy ;
and, in the course of a few minutes, the altar, images, and all the
ornaments of the church were torn down and trampled under foot.
The noise soon collected a mob, who, finding no employment in the
church, by a sudden and irresistible impulse flew upon the monas-
teries ; nor could they be restrained by the authority of the magis-
trates 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
142 SCOTS WORTHIES.
were concerned in this unpremeditated tumult ; it was wholly con-
fined to the baser inhabitants, or, as Knox designs them, " the rascal
multitude."
The demolition of the monasteries has been represented as the_
first-lVuits of our reformer's labours on this occasion ; but whatever
his sentiments were as to the destruction of the instruments and;
monuments 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 reformers in present circumstan-
ces; and, instead of instigating, he exerted himself in putting a stop
to the ravages of the mob. ii\ however, it is to be traced to a
remote cause, it must be imputed to the wanton and dishonourable
perfidy of the queen.
Nothing could be more favourable to the designs of the regent than
this riot. By her recent conduct, she had forfeited the confidence of
the protestants, and even exposed herself in the eyes of the sober and
moderate of her own party. This occuiTcnce afforded her an oppor-
tunity of turning the public indignation from herself, and directing
it against the congregation, 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 sacriligious overthrow of those
venerable structures w^hich their ancestors had dedicated to the ser-
vice 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 ven-
geance 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 commanders of the French troops, to the popish >
nobles, and to those of their own persuasion ; they solemnly dis-
claimed all rebellious intentions ; they protested their readiness to
yield all due obedience to the government ; they obtested and ad-
monished all to refrain from offering violence to peaceable subjects,
who sought only the liberty of their consciences. Finding all these
endeavours fniitless, they resolved, however, not to suffer themselves ;
and their brethren to be massacred, but prepared for a defence of |
the town against an illegal and furious assault. So prompt and
vigorous were their measures, that the regent, when she approached,
deemed it imprudent to attack them, and proposed overtures of
accommodation, 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. Andrew's and the young earl of Argyle, who adhered to
the regent ; he reminded them of the solemn engagements which
they had contrac^^.d, and charged them with violating these, by
JOHN KNOX. 143
abetting measures which tended to the suppression of the reformed
religion, and the enslaving of their native country. The noblemen
assured them that they lield their engagements sacred : the regent
liad requested them to use their best endeavours to bring the present
differences to an amicable termination ; if, however, she violated the
present treaty, tliey promised that they would no longer adhere to
her, but would openly take part with the rest of the congregation.
The queen was not long in afibrding them the opportunity of verify-
ing this promise.
The lords of the congregation now resolved to introduce a refor-
mation, 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 justi-
fied this step ; the urgent and extreme necessity of the case forms its
best vindication.
St. Andrew's was the place fixed on for beginning these opera-
tions. With this view, Lord James Stuart, who was prior of the
abbey of St. An-drew's, and the earl of Argyle, made an appoint-
ment with Knox to meet him on a certain day, in that city. Travel-
ling along the east coast of Fife, he preached at Anstruther and
Crail, and on the 9th of June, he came to St. Andrew's. The arch-
bishop, apprized of his design to preach in his cathedral, assembled
an armed force, and sent information to him, that if he appeared in
the pulpit, he w^ould give orders to the soldiers to fire upon him.
The noblemen, having met to consult what ought to be done, were
of opinion that Knox should desist from preaching at that time.
Their retinue was very slender ; they had not yet ascertained the
disposition of the town ; the queen lay at a small distance with an
army, ready to come to the bishop's assistance ; and his appearance
in the pulpit might lead to the sacrifice of his own life, and the lives
of those who were determined to defend him from violence.
But had the reformers, after announcing their intentions, suffered
themselves to be intimidated by the bravadoing attitudes and threats
of the archbishop, their cause would, at the very outset, have re-
ceived a blow, from which it could 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 solicitations 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 imjjrisonment,
and the tortures which he had endured, he would not at present re-
cite ; but one thing he could not conceal, that, in the hearing of
iiany yet alive, he had expressed his confident hope of again preach-
144 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ing in St. Andrew's. IN'ow, therefore, when Providence, beyond all
men's expectation, had brouglit 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 Ilim whose glory I seek. I desire tlie hand or weapon
of no man to defend me. I only crave audience ; which, if it be
denied here unto me at this time, 1 must seek where I may have it."
This intrepid reply silenced all further remonstrances ; and next
day Knox appeared in the pulpit, and preached to a numerous
assembly without meeting with the slightest opposition or internip-
tion. lie discoursed on the subject of our Saviour's ejecting the
profane traiRckers 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 Christians 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 provost,
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. Andrew's was quickly followed in other parts
of the kingdom ; and, in the course of a few weeks, at Crail, 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 de-
stroyed.
Om* reformer continued at St. Andrew's 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 Edinburgh to her, judged it unsafe for him to remain there, on
account of the extreme personal hostility with which the papists
were inflamed against him. AYillock, as being less obnoxious to
them, was therefore substituted in his place, while he undertook a
tour of preaching through the kingdom. This itmerancy had great
influence 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 surrounded, and the hopes which he
cherished, increased the ardour of his zeal, and stimulated him to
extraordinary exertions both of body and mind. Within less than
two months, he travelled over the greater part of Scotland. He
visited Kelso, and Jedburgh, and Dumfries, and Ayr, and Stirling,
and Perth, and Brechin, and Montrose, and Dundee, and returned
again to St. Andrew's. 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 Geneva'
for his wife and family. On the 13th of June, Mrs. Knox and her
family were at Paris, and applied to Sir Nicolas Throkmorton, the
p; JOHN KNOX. 145
English ambassador, for a safe conduct 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 direc-
tion of the court, reached her husband in safety, on the 20th of
September. Her mother, after remaining a short time in her native
country, followed her into Scotland, where she remained 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 col-
league to come to his assistance, and expressed much uneasiness at
the delay of his arrival. Goodman became minister of St. An-
drew's. The settlement of protestant ministers took place at an
earlier period than is mentioned in our common histories. Previous
to September, 1559, eight towns were provided 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 main-
tain 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 could not withstand the veteran troops which France had sent
to her assistance, and was preparing to send, in still more formidable
numbers. As far back as the middle of June, our reformer renewed
his exertions for obtaining assistance from England, and persuaded
William Kircaldy of Grange, first to write, and afterwards to pay a
visit to Sir Henry Percy, who held a public situation on the English
marches. Percy immediately transmitted his representations to
London, and an answer was returned from secretary Cecil, encourag-
ing the correspondence.
Knox himself wrote to Cecil, requesting permission to visit Eng-
land, 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 contains professions of strong attachment to Elizabeth's
government ; but the strain in which it is written is such as, if it was
ever read by that high-minded princess, must have aggravated
instead of extenuating Ids 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
I 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
140 SCOTS WORTHIES.
required tlie utmost secresy and despatcli ; and Cecil came down to
Stamford to hold an interview with him.
Tlie confusion produced by the advance of the regent's army upon
Edinburgh retarded his journey; but no sooner was this settled,
than he sailed from Pittenweem to Holy Island. Finding that
Percy was recalled from the borders, he applied to Sir James Croft,
governor of Berwick. Croft, who was not unapprized of tlie design
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,
"NVhitlaw came from the English court with answers to the letters for-
merly sent; and he immediately returned to lay these before a meet-
ing of the protestant lords at Stirling. The irresolution or the cau-
tion cf Elizabeth's cabinet had led them to express themselves in
such general and unsatisfactory 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
v>f the case, and the danger of further hesitation or delay, produced a
speedy reply, desiring them to send a confidential messenger to
Berwick, who would receive a sum of money to assist them in carry-
ing 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 London and the lords of the
congregation continued 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 nation had with the contest in which the protestants
were engaged, and upon our reformer's zeal in that cause, we will
not be greatly surprised to And him at this time acting in the charac-
ter of a politician. Extraordinary cases cannot be measured by
ordinary rules. In a great emergency, like that under considera-
tion, when all that is valuable and dear to a people is at stake, it
becomes the duty of every individual to step forward, and exert the
talents with which he is endowed, for the public good. Learning
was at this time rare among the nobility ; and though there were
men of distinguished abilities among the protestant leaders, few of
them had been accustomed to transact public business. Accord-
ingly, the management of the correspondence with England was fur
a time devolved chiefly on Balnaves and our reformer. But he sub-
mitted 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 tlie burden.
In a letter to Sir James Croft, Knox represented the great impor-
tance of their being speedily assisted with troops, without which they
would be in much hazard of miscarrying in an attack upon the forti-
fications of Leith. The court of England, he said, ought not to hes-
itate at offending France, of whose hostile intentions against them
they had the most satisfactory evidence. But " if ye list to era'"
with thame," continued he, " the sending of a thousand or mo men
JOHN KNOX.
147
to us can brealce 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." I^o doubt such
things have been often done ; and such political casuistry^ as Keith
not improperly styles it, is not unknown at courts. But it must be
cfonfessed, that the measure recommended by Knox — the morality 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 opportu-
nity 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 toward themselves in a recent
instance ; he was not ignorant, he said, of the inconveniences which
might attend an open declaration in their favour, but feared that they
would have cause to " repent the drift of time, when the remedy
shall not be so easy."
^Notwithstanding the prejudice which existed in the English court
against our reformer, on account of his " audacity" in attacking
female prerogative, they were too well acquainted with his integrity
and influence to decline his services. Cecil kept up a correspond-
ence with him ; and, in the directions sent from London for the
management of the subsidy, it was expressly provided that he should
be one of the council for examining the receipts and payments, to
see that it was applied to the common action, and not to any private
use.
In the mean time, his zeal and activity in the cause of the congre-
gation 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. Bat 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. Bj day he was employed in preaching ; by night in writing
letters on public business. He was the soul of the congregation ;
was always present at the post of danger ; and by his presence, his
public discourses, and private advices, animated the whole body, and
defeated the schemes employed to corrupt and disunite them.
On the 21st of October, an assembly of nobles, barons, and repre-
sentatives of boroughs, was convened at Edinburgh, to deliberate on
the lawfulness of suspending the queen regent. WiUock, who then
officiated as minister of Edinburgh, and Knox, were called to attend,
when they both concurred in the legality of the proposal.
Those who judge of the propriety of any measure, from the success
with which it is accompanied, will be disposed to condemn this treat-
148 SCOTS WORTHIES
merit of the queen. Soon after tliis step was taken, the affairs of the
congregation began to wear a gloomy appearance. The messenger
whom they had sent to Berwick, to receive a remittance from tlie
English court, was intercepted on his return, and rifled of the treas-
ure ; their soldiers mutinied for want of pay ; they were repulsed in
a premature assault upon the fortifications of Leith, and worsted 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, disunited, dispirited, and dismayed,
came to the resolution of abandoning Edinburgh on the evening of
the 5th of November, and retreated with precipitation and disgrace
to Stirling.
Amidst the univei*sal dejection produced by these disasters, the
spirit of Knox remained unsubdued. On the day after their arrival
at Stirling, he mounted the 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
oppressed with sorrow and shame. What was the cause for which
God had thus dejected them ? The situation of their affaii-s required
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 under-
took, 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
blamable in the conduct of each ; and, after exhorting all to amend-
ment of life, prayers, and works of charity, he concluded with an
animating address. God, he said, often suffered the wicked to
triumph lor a while, and exposed his chosen congregation to mockery,
dangers, and apparent destruction, in order to abase their self-confi-
dence, and induce them to look to him for deliverance and victory.
If they turned unfeignedly 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
Scotland. 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 reformer, 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. Andrew's. Knox was ap-
pointed to attend the latter. The French having, in the beginning
=^
JOHN KNOX. 149
of the year 1560, penetrated into Fife, he encouraged that small
band, which, under the earl of Arran,. and the prior of St. Andrew's,
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 p'^licy which tbey had hitherto
pursued. On the 27th of February, 1560, they concluded a formal
treaty with the lords of the congregation ; and, in the beginning of
April, the English army entered Scotland. The French troops re-
tired within tlie 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 assiduous 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 reformii^
their manners ; and too illiterate to be capable of defending their
errors, they placed their forlorn hope upon the success 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 hostilities made no settlement re-
specting religious, differences ; but, on that very account, it was fatal
to popery. The power was left in the hands of the protestants. The
Eoman catholic worship was almost universally 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 sup-
ported by force alone ; and the moment that the French troops em-
barked, that fabric, which had stood for ages in Scotland, fell to the
ground. Its feeble and dismayed priests ceased, of their own accord,
from the celebration of its rites ; and the reformed service was
peaceably set up, wherever ministers could be found to perform
it. The parliament, when it met, had little else to do respecting
religion, than to sanction what the nation had previously adopted.
In the assignation of ministers to the different parts of the king-
dom, a measure which engaged the attention of the protestants
immediately after the proclamation of peace, the temporary arrange-
ments formerly made were in general confirmed ; and our reformer
resumed his station as minister of Edinburgh. During the month
150 SCOTS WORTHIES.
of August, he was employed in composing the Protestant (Confession
of Faiai, which was presented to the parliament, who ratified it and
abolished the papal jurisdiction and worship.
Tlie organization of the reformed church was not yet completed.
Hitherto the Book of Common Order, agreed npon by the English
church at Geneva, had been chiefly followed as a directory for wor-
ship and government. But this having been compiled for the use of
a single congregation, composed, too, for the most part, of men of
education, was found inadeqate for an extensive church, consisting
of a multitude of confederated congregations. Sensible of the great
importance of ecclesiastical polity for the maintainance of order,
the preservation of purity of doctrine and morals, and the general
flourishing of religion 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 con-
ducive to the advancement 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 compilation of this book.
Jihe first General Assembly of the reformed 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 president or moderator. But
as the number of members increased, and business became more
complicated, a moderator was appointed to be chosen at every meet-
ing ; he was invested with authority to maintain order ; and regula-
tions were enacted concerning the constituent members of the court,
the causes which ought to come before them, and the order of proce-
dure.
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 children, in addition to his other cares.
His mother-in-law was still with him; but tliough betook pleasure
in her religious company, the dejection of mind to which she was
subject, and which all his efforts could never completely cure, rather
increased than lightened his burden. Ilis acute feelings were
severely wounded by this stroke ; but he endeavoured to moderate
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 reformer upon several difiicult questions which occurred
JOHN KNOX. 151
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 opposition was publicly made to the new establishment. But
matters were still in a very critical state. There was a party in the
nation, by no means inconsiderable in 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 another 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 pai'liament, 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
sj^ring; emissaries were sent, in the mean time, to encourage and
nnite the Eoman 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 religion throughout the kingdom, which, he was
persuaded, would prove the principal bulwark against the assaults
of their adversaries. In the state in which the minds of men then
Avere, his admonitions were listened to by many who had formerly
treated them with indifference. The threatened 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 account, not less to be dreaded than open
violence and hostility. This was the invitation given by the protest-
ant 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 w^hich she met with on her first arrival in Scotland
was flattering ; but an occurrence which took place soon after
damped the joy which had been expressed, and prognosticated
future jealousies and confusion. Resolved to give her subjects an
early proof of her firm determination to adhere to the Roman
catholic worship, Mary directed prej)arations to be made for the
celebration of a solemn mass in the chapel of Ilolyrood-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 ofience to the queen and her
relations, at the present juncture, used his influence in private
152 SCOTS WORTHIES.
conversation to allay the fervour of the more zealous, who were
ready to pi-event 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 part of the realme, of purpose to
suppress the hole religioun."
JBesides his fears for the common cause, Knox had grounds for
apprehension as to his personal safety. The queen was peculiarly
incensed against him on account of the active hand which ne had in
the late revolution ; the popish clergy who left the kingdom repre-
sented him as the ringleader of her factious subjects ; and she had
signified, 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 proceedings 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 concurred with his brethren in this measure, and
in defeating a scheme which the duke of Chatelherault, under the
direction of the archbishop of St. Andrew's, had formed to exclude
her from the government. But when the prior of St. Andrew's was
sent to France with the invitation, he urged that her desisting from
the celebation of mass should be one of the conditions of her return;
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. Andrew's. She seems to have expected to awe him into
submission by her authority, if not to confound him by her argu-
ments. But the bold freedom with which he replied to all her
charges, and vindicated his own conduct, convinced her that the one
expectation 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 sincerity, 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 Eoman Antichrist. But if the true knowledge
JOHN KNOX. 153
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 w^as 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
himself 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 so 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 prac-
tising 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 his error ; bnt 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 commonly disagreeing from the common
judgment of the world ; such also have they published both with pen
and tongue ; notwithstanding, they themselves had lived in the
common society with others, and have borne patiently with the
errors and imperfections which they could not amend. Plato the
philosopher wrote his book Of the Commonwealth, in which he
condemned many things that then were maintained in the world,
and required many things to have been reformed ; and yet notwith-
standing, he lived under such policies as then were universally
received, without further troubling of any state. Even so, Madame,
am I content to do, in uprightness of heart, and with a testimony
of a good conscience." He added, that his sentiments on that
subject should be confined to his own breast; and that, if she refrained
from persecution, her authority would 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, Madame : 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 d.oubt ; yea, they have been plainly impugned. But yet, Madame,
I am assured that neither protestant nor papist shall be able to prove,
154 SCOTS WORTHIES.
that any such qriestion was at any time moved either in public or in
secret. Now, Madame, if I had intended to 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 tlio
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 Eoman 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, Madame,
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, Madame, no doubt they
may be resisted, even by power. For no greater honours, or greater
obedience, 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, Madame, 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, Madame, that the children
do any wrong ? Even so, Madame, is it with princes that would
murder the children of God that are subject unto them. Their blind
zeal is nothing 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 disobedience against princes,
but just obedience; 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 uneasiness ; 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
fiet subjects at liberty to do whatever pleases them. But my travel
is, that both princes and subjects may obey God. And think not,
Madame, 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
JOHN KNOX. 155
as foster-fathers to liis cluirch, and commands queens to be nurses
to liis people. And this subjection, Madam, unto God and his
church, is tlie greatest dignity that flesli 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 and immaculate
spouse of Jesus Christ. Wonder not, Madam, that I call Rome an
harlot ; for that church is altogether polluted with all kinds of
spiritual fornication, both in doctrine and manners." He added,
that he was ready to prove that the Romish church had declined
farther from the purity of religion taught by the apostles, than the
Jewish church had degenerated from the ordinances which God gave
them by Moses and Aaron, at the time when they denied and
crucified the Son of God. "My conscience is not so," said the
queen. " Conscience, 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 moro
clearly in other places, so that there can remain no doubt, but unta
such as are obstinately ignorant." As an example, he selected one
of the articles in controversy, that concerning the sacrament of the
Supper, and proceeded to show, that the popish doctrine of the sacri-
fice 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," replied the
reformer, fervently, " would to God that the learnedest papist in
Europe, and he whom you would best believe, were present with your
Grace to sustain the argument, and that you would wait patiently to
hear the matter reasoned to the end ! — for then, I doubt not. Madam,
but you would hear the vanity of the papistical religion, and how
little ground it hath in the word of God." " Well," said she, " you
may perchance get that sooner than you believe." " Assuredly, if
ever I get that in my life, I get it sooner than I believe ; for the
ignorant papist cannot patiently reason, and the learned and crafty
papist will never come in your audience, Madam to have the ground
of their religion searched out. When you shall let me see the
contrary, I shall grant myself to have been deceived in that point."
156 SCOTS WORTHIES.
The hour after dinner afforded 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 Deborah 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 recommended 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
leadei-s. The General Assemblies of the church were a great eye-
sore 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 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 disallowance, we shall want not only assemblies, but
also the preaching of the gospel." He was still more indignant at
their management 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 between the court and the protestant ministry !
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 inadequate. " 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 judgment failes me. I sie twapairtis freeliegeven to the
devill, and the thrid mon be devyded betwix God and the devill.
Quho wald have thocht, that quhen Joseph reulled in Egypt, his
brethren sould have travellit for victualles ; and have returned 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 imputed 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
JOHN KNOX. 157
preach statedly in the citj, the town council assigned him an annual
stipend of two hundred pounds, to be paid quarterly ; besides dis-
charging his house-rent, and re-imbursing some individuals the money
which they had expended in maintaining 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 testi-
fying tbeir generosity, by supplying the deficiencies 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 advancement
of the reformation, he now devoted himself to the service of the
church, in a laborious employment, at a time when she stood emi-
nently 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 from his being employed on
different occasions to compose variances of a civil nature, which
arose among the protestants. He was applied to frequently, to inter-
cede 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 Both well 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 interview, at
which they mutually promised to bury all differences. But he was
exceedingly 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 imprison-
ment 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 vigourous 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
cov^ered their ambitious designs, they began by stirring up persecu-
tion against the protestants. The massacre of Yassy, in thfe begin-
ning of March, this year, was a prelude to this ; in which the duke
jof 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 excepting women and children.
Intelligence of the success which attended the measures of her uncles
was brought to queen Mary, who immediately after gave a splendid
158 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 occa-
sion of them. He always felt a lively interest in the concerns of the
French protestants, with many of whom he was intimately acqiiainted ;
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 w^ere addicted, their op-
pression, 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 dis-
course, he did not believe she could have been offended with any-
thing that he had said. She would now, therefore, be pleased to
hear him repeat, as exactly as he could, what he had preached yes-
terday. Having done this, he added, " If any man, Madam, will
say, that I spake more, let him presently 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 words, though sharp enough as related by himself,
were reported 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 tlie artifice of this fair proposal. He replied, that he was
w^illing to do anything for her majesty's contentment, which was
consistent 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
tlie 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 occa-
sions, " 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,
JOHN KNOX. 159
^' he is not afraid !" " Why sould the plesing face of a gentilwoman
affray me?" said he, regarding them with a sarcastic scowl, " I have
luiked in the faces of mony angry men, and yet have not bene
affi'ayed above nieasour."
There was at this time but one place of worship in the city of Edin-
burgh. The number of inhabitants was indeed small, 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, perform-
ed all the parts of ministerial duty, without any other assistant but
John Cairns, who acted as reader. He preached twice every Sab-
bath, 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 neighbourhood, for the exercise on the scriptures.
He attended, besides, the meetings of the provincial synod, and gen-
eral assembly; and at almost every meeting of the last-mentioned
court, he received an appointment to visit and preach in some dis-
tant 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 effusions, 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 Holyroodhouse, to undertake
the half of the charge. The ensuing general a&sembly 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 difjiculty of obtaining an additional
stipend.
During the autumn of 1562, the Koman catholics entertained great
hopes of a change in their favour. After several unsuccessful
attempts to cut off the principal protestant courtiers, the earl of
Huntly openly took arms in the north, to rescue the queen from their
hands; while the archbishop of St. Andrew's endeavoured to unite
and rouse the papists of the south. On this occasion, our reformer
acted with his usual zeal and foresight. Being appointed by the
general assembly as commissioner 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 N"ithsdale, he by his ser-
mons and conversation, confirmed 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 vigourous measures of the
council crushed the rebellion in the north. The queen expressed
little satisfaction 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
.. to the advancement of her projects. She scrupled not to say, at
160 SCOTS WORTfflES.
tliis time, that she " hoped, before a year was expired, to have the
mass and catholic profession restored through the whole kingdom."
While these hopes were indulged, the popish clergy thought it
necessary to gain credit to tlieir cause, by appearing more openly in
defence of their tenets than they had lately done. They began to
preacli publicl}^, 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 Crossraguel. 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, 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 weapons, and
to ffird on his armour.
His first appearance was in 1558, when he published a short sys-
tem of catholic tactics, under the title of Ane Compendious Tractive,
showing " the nearest 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 controversy,
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 estab-
lishing the conscience of every Christian man, and deciding every
controvei-sy 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 engage to submit to
the interpretations of Scripture which had been given by the ancient
doctors of the church. Irom this time he seems to have made the
mass the great subject of his study, and endeavoured to qualify him-
self for defending this keystone of the popish arch.
George Hay having been sent by the general assembly to preach
in Carrick and Cunningham, during the autumn of 1562, 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, pray-
ing to saints, the use of images, &c., which he said he would defend
against any who should impugn them, and promised to declare his
mind more fully respecting them on the following Sunday. Knox,
who was in the vicinity, came to Kirk Oswald on that day, with the
design of hearing the abbot, and granting him the disputation which
he had courted. The abbot not making his appearance, he himself
JOHN KNOX. ' 1(51
preached in the chapel. "When he came down from the pulpit,
there was a letter from Kennedy put into his hand, stating that he
understood he had come to that country to seek disputation, and
oifering to meet with him on the following Sunday in any house in
Maybole, provided there were not more than twenty persons on each
side admitted. Knox replied, that he had come, not purposely to
dispute, but to preach the gospel ; he was, however, willing to meet
with him ; he, was under a previous engagement to be in Dumfries
on the day mentioned by the abbot ; but if he sent him his articles,
he would, with all convenient speed, return and fix a time.
A correspondence was carried on between them on this subject,
which is fully as curious as the dispute which ensued. Knox wished
that his reasoning should be as public as the abbot had made his
articles, and proposed that it should take place in St. John's church
in Ayr; but the abbot refused to dispute publicly. The earl of
Cassilis wrote to Knox, expressing his disapprobation of the proposed
disputation, as unlikely to do any good, and calculated to endanger
the public peace ; to which the reformer replied, by signifying, that
his relation had given the challenge, which he was resolved not to
decline, and that his lordship ought to encourage him to keep the
appointment, from which no bad effects w^ere to be dreaded. Upon
this, the abbot, feeling his honour touched, wrote a letter to the
reformer, in which he told him that he would have " rencountered"
him the last time he was in the country, had it not been for the in-
terposition of the earl of Cassilis, and charged him with stirring up
his nephew to write that letter, in order to bring him into disgrace.
*' Ye sal be assured," says he, " I sal keip day and place in May-
boill, according to my writing, and I half my life, and my feit louse ;"
and in another letter to Knox, and the bailies of Ayr, he says, " keip
your promes, and pretex na joukrie, be my lorde of Cassilis writing."
The abbot being in this state of mind, the conditions of the combat
were speedily settled. They agreed to meet on the 18th of Septem-
ber, at eight o'clock, ante meridiem^ in the house of the provost of
Maybole. Forty persons on each side w^ere to be admitted as wit-
nesses of the dispute, with " as many mo as the house might goodly
hold, at the sight of my lord of Cassilis." And notaries or scribes
were appointed to record the papers which might be given in by the
parties, and the arguments which they advanced in the course of
reasoning, to prevent unnecessary repetition, or a false report of the
proceedings. These conditions were formally subscribed by the
abbot and the reformer, on the day preceding the meeting.
They met and disputed for three days. On the third, Knox pro-
posed that they should adjourn to Ayr, and finish the dispute, which
was refused by the abbot, who said he would come to Edinburgh for
that purpose, provided he could obtain the queen's permission.
Upon this the company dismissed.
In the beginning of 1563, Knox went to Jedburgh, by appoint-
ment of the general assembly, to investigate a scandal which had
broken out against Paul Methven, the minister of that place, who
was suspected of adultery. The accused was found guilty, and
excommunicated. He fled to England; but having afterwards
162 SCOTS WORTHIES.
returned and offered to submit to the discipline of the church, a
severe and liumiliating course of public repentance was prescribed
to him. lie went through a part of it, with professions of deep
sorrow; but overwhebneu with shame, or despairing to regain his
lost reputation, he stopped in the midst of it, and again retired to
England.
In the month of May, the queen sent for Knox to Lochleven. The
popish priests, presuming upon her avowed partiality to them, and
secret promises of protection, had of late become more bold, and
during the late Easter, masses had been openly celebrated in the
different parts of tlie kingdom. The queen in council had issued
various proclamations against this; but as the execution had hitherto
been left to her, nothing had followed upon them. The protestants
of the west, who were the most zealous, perceiving that the laws were
eluded, resolved to execute them, without making any application to
tlie court, and apprehended some of the offenders by way of example.
These decided proceedings highly offended the queen, as they were
calculated to defeat the scheme of policy which she had formed ; but
finding that the signification of her displeasure had not the effect of
stopping them, she wished to avail herself of the reformer's influence
for accomplishing her purpose.
She dealt with him very earnestly, for two hours before supper, to
persuade the western gentlemen to desist from all interruption of the
catholic worship. lie told her majesty, that if she would exercise
her authority in executing the laws of the land, he could promise for
the peaceable behaviour of the protestants; but if her majesty
thought to elude them, he feared there were some who would let the
papists understand that they should not offend with impunity.
" Will ye allow that they shall take my sword in their hands ?" said
the queen. "The sword of justice is God's," replied the reformer
with equal firmness, " and is given to princes and rulers for one end,
which if they •transgress, sparing the wicked and oppressing the
innocent ; they who, in the fear of God, execute judgment where God
has comn^anded, offend not God, although kings do it not." He
added, that the gentlemen of the west were acting strictly according
to law ; for the act of parliament gave power to all judges within
their bounds, to search for and punish those who should transgress
its enactments. He concluded with advising her majesty to consider
the terms of the mutual contract between her and her subjects, and
that she could not expect to receive obedience from them, if she did
not grant unto them protection, and the execution of justice. The
queen broke oft' the conversation with evident marks of displeasure.
Having communicated what had passed between them to the Earl
of Moray, (which was the title now conferred on the prior of St.
Andrew's,) Knox meant to return to Edinburgh next day, without
waiting for any further communication with the queen. But a
message was delivered him early in the morning, desiring him not
to depart until he had again spoken to her majesty. He accord-
ingly met with her west from Kinross, where she took the amusement
of hawking. This interview was very different from that of th'^
preceding evening. Waiving entirely the subject on which they haa
JOHN KNOX. 163
differed, she introduced a variety of topics, upon which she conversed
with the greatest familiarity and apparent confidence. Lord Ruth-
ven, she said, had offered her a ring; but she could not love him.
She knew that he used enchantment ; and yet he was made one of
her privy council. Lethington, she said, was the sole cause of that
appointment. " I understand," said she, introducing another subject
of discourse, " that ye are appointed to go to Dumfries, for the
election of a superintendent to be established in these countries." He
answered in the afHrmative. " But I understand the bishop of
Athens would be superintendent." " He is one. Madam, that is put
in election." " If you knew him as well as I do, you would not
promote him to that office, nor yet to any other within your kirk."
Knox said that he deceived many more than him, if he did not fear
God. " Well, do as you will ; but that man is a dangerous man."
When Knox was about to take his leave of her majesty, she ^^ressed
him to stay. " I have one of the greatest matters that have touched
me since I came into this realm to open to you, and I must have
your help in it," said she, with an air of condescension and confidence
as enchanting as if she had put a ring on his finger. She then
entered into a long discourse concerning a domestic difference
between the earl of Argyle and his lady. Her ladyship had not, she
said, been so circumspect in everything as she could have wished,
but still she was of opinion that his lordship had not treated her in
an honest and godly manner. Knox said that he was not unac-
quainted with the disagreeable variance which had subsisted between
that honourable couple ; and, before her majesty's arrival in this
country, he had efiected a reconciliation. On that occasion, the
countess had promised not to complain to any creature before
acquainting him ; and as he had never heard from her, he concluded
that there was nothing but concord. " Well," said the queen, " it is
worse than ye believe. But do this much, for my sake, as once again
to put them at unity, and if she behave not herself as she ought to
do, she shall find no favour of me ; but in anywise let not my lord
know that I have requested you in this matter." Then introducing
the subject of their reasoning on the preceding evening, she said,
"I promise to do as ye required. I shall cause summon. all offend-
ers ; and ye shall know that I shall minister justice." " I am
assured then," said he, ^' that ye shall please God, and enjo}^ rest and
tranquillity within your realm, which to your majesty is more profit-
able than all the pope's power can be." Upon this he took his leave
of the queen.
On the 19th of May, in order to allay the general discontent, the
archbishop of St. Andrew's and a number of the principal papists
were arraigned by the queen's orders, before the lord justice-general,
for transgressing the laws ; but having come in her majesty's will,
were only committed to ward. This, however, was merely a stroke
of policy, to enable her more easily to carry her measures in the
parliament which met on the following day. This was the first
parliament since the queen's arrival in Scotland ; and it was very
natural to expect that they would proceed to ratify the treaty of
peace made in July, 1560, and the establishment of the protestant
154 SCOTS WORTHIES.
religion. But so well had she laid her plans, such was the effect of
her insinuating address, and, above all, so powerful was the tempta-
tion of self interest on the minds of the protestant leaders, that, by
general consent, they passed from this demand, and lost the only
favourable opportunity, during the reign of Mary, for giving a legal
security to the reformed religion, and thereby removing one principal
source of jealousies. An act of oblivion, securing indemnity to
those who had been engaged in the late civil war, was indeed
passed ; but the mode of its enactment virtually implied the invalidity
of the treaty in which it had been originally imbodied ; and the
protestants, on their bended knees, supplicated as a boon from their
sovereign, what thev had formerly won with their swords, and
repeatedly demanded as their right.
Knox was deeply affected with this selfishness and servility of the
protestant leaders, and so hot was the altercation between the earl
of Moray and him on that subject, that an open rupture ensued.
He had long looked upon that nobleman as one of the most steady
and sincere adherents to the reformed cause ; and therefore felt the
greater disappointment at his conduct. Under his first irritation, he
wrote a letter to the earl, in which, after reminding him of his
condition at the time when they first became acquainted in London,
and the honours to which Providence had now raised him, he
solemnly renounced friendship with him as one who preferred his
own interest and the pleasure of his sister to the advancement of
religion, left him to the guidance of the new counsellors which he
had chosen, and exonerated him from all future concern in his affairs.
This variance, which continued nearly two years, was very gratifying
to the queen and others, who disliked their former familiarity, and
failed not, as Knox informs us, to " cast oil into the flame, until God
did quench it by the water of affliction."
Before the dissolution of the parliament, the reformer embraced
an opportunity of disburdening his mind in the presence of the
freater part of the members assembled in his church. After
iscoursing of the great mercy of God shown to Scotland, in
marvellously delivering them from bondage of soul and body, and
of the deep ingratitude which he perceived in all ranks of persons,
he addressed himself particularly to the nobility. He praised God
that he had an opportunity of pouring out the soitows of his heart
in their presence, who could attest the truth of all he had spoken.
He appealed to their consciences if he had not, in their greatest
extremities, exhorted them to depend upon God, and assured them
of preservation and victory, if they preferred his glory to their own
lives and secular interests. "I have been with you in your most
desperate temptations," continued he, in a strain of impassioned
eloquence : " in your most extreme dangers I have been with you.
St. Johnston, Cupar-moor, and the Crags of Edinburgh, are yet
recent in my heart ; yea, that dark and dolorous night wherein all
ye, my lords, with shame and fear, left this town, is yet in my mind,
and God forbid that ever I forget it ! What was, t say, my exhor-
tation to you, and what has fallen in vain of all that ever God
promised unto you by my mouth, ye yourselves yet live to testify.
JOHN KNOX. 1^5
There is not one of yon against whom was death and destruction
threatened perished ; and how many of your enemies has God
plagued before your eyes ? Shall this be the thankfulness that ye
shall render unto your God ? To betray his cause, when ye have it
in your hands to establish it as you please ?" He saw nothing, he
said, " but a cowardly desertion of Christ's standard. Some had
even the effrontery to say that they had neither law nor parliament
for their religion. They had the authority of God for their religion,
the truth of which was independent of human laws ; but it was also
accepted within this realm in public parliament ; and that parliament
he would maintain to have been as lawful as any ever field in the
kingdom."
In the conclusion of his discourse, he adverted to the reports of
her majesty's marriage, and the princes who courted this alliance ;
and, desiring the audience to mark his words, predicted the conse-
quences which were to be dreaded, if ever the nobility consented
that their sovereign should marry a papist.
Protestants as well as papists were offended with the freedom of
this sermon, and some who had been most familiar with the preacher
now shunned his company. Flatterers were not wanting to run to
the queen, and inform her that John Knox had preached against her
marriage. After surmounting the opposition to her measures, and
managing so successfully the haughty and independent barons of her
kingdom, Mary was incensed that there should yet be one man of
obscure condition, who ventured to condemn her proceedings ; and
as she could not tame his stubbornness, she determined to punish his
temerity. Knox was ordered instantly to appear before her. Lord
Ochiltree, with several other gentlemen, accompanied him to the
palace ; but the superintendent of Angus alone was allowed to go
with him into the royal presence.
Her majesty received him in a very different manner from what
she had done at Lochleven. Never had prince been handled, she
passionately exclaimed, as she was : she had borne with him in all
his rigourous speeches against herself and her uncles ; she had sought
his favour by all means ; she had offered unto him audience when-
ever he pleased to admonish her. " And yet," said she, " I cannot
be quit of you. I vow to God I shall be once revenged.'* — On
pronouncing these words with great violence, she burst into a flood
of tears which interrupted her speech. When the queen had
composed herself, he proceeded calmly to make his defence. Her
I Grace and he had, he said, at different times been engaged in
; controversy, and he never before perceived her offended with him.
I When it should please God to deliver her from the bondage of error
! in which she had been trained through want of instruction in the
' truth, he trusted that her majesty would not find the liberty of his
i tongue offensive. Out of the pulpit he thought fQW had occasion to
; be offended with him ; but there he was not master of himself, but
bound to obey him who commanded him to speak plainly, and to
: flatter no flesh on the face of the earth.
I '^ But what have you to do with my marriage ?" said the queen.
I He was proceeding to state the extent of his commission as a
1^ SCOTS WORTHIES.
I
preacher, and the reasons which led him to touch on that delicate
subject ; but slie interrupted him by repeating her question : " What
have ye to do witli my marriage ? Or what are you in this common-
wealth r' — " A subject born within the same, Madam," replied the
reformer, piqued by the last question, and the contemptuous tone in
which it was proposed. " And albeit I be neither earl, lord, nor
baron in it, yet has God made me (how abject that ever I be
in your eyes) a profitable member within the same. Yea, Madam,
to me it appertams no less to forewarn of such things as may hurt it,
if I foresee them, than it doth to any of the nobility ; for both my
vocation and conscience require plainness of me. And therefore,
Madam, to yourself I say that which I spake in public place :
' Whensoever the nobility of this realm shall consent that ye
be subject to an unfaithful husband, they do as much as in them lieth
to renounce Christ, to banish his truth from them, to betray the
freedom of this realm, and perchance shall in the end do small
comfort to yourself." At these words, the queen began to weep and
sob with great bitterness. The superintendent, who was a man of
mild and gentle spirit, tried to mitigate her grief and resentment;
he praised her beauty and her accomplishments ; and told her, that
there was not a prince in Europe who would not reckon himself
happy in gaining her hand. During this scene, the severe and
inflexible mind of the reformer displayed itself. He continued
silent, and with unaltered countenance, until the queen had given
vent to her feelings. He then protested, that he never took delight
in the distress of any creature ; it was with great difficulty that he
could see his own boys weep when he corrected them for their faults,
far less could he rejoice in her majesty's tears : but seeing he had
given her no just reason of offence, and had only discharged his
duty, he was constrained, though unwillingly, to sustain her tears,
rather than hurt his conscience, and betray the commonwealth
through his silence.
This apology inflamed the queen still more ; she ordered him
immediately to leave her presence, and wait the signification of her
Eleasure in the adjoining room. There he stood as " one whom men
ad never seen ;" all his friends (lord Ochiltree excepted), being
afraid to show him the smallest countenance. In this situation he
addressed himself to the court-ladies, who sat in their richest dress
in the chamber. " O fair ladies, how plesing war this lyfe of yours,
if it sould ever abyde, and then, in the end, that we might pas to
hevin with all this gay gear !" Having engaged them in a conver-
sation, he passed tlie time till Erskine came and informed him, that
he was allowed to go home until her majesty had taken further
advice. The queen insisted to have the judgment of the lords of
articles, whether the words he had used in the pulpit were not
actionable ; but she was persuaded to desist from a prosecution,
" And so that storme quietit in appearance, bot nevir in the hart.'*
During the queen's residence at Stirling, in the month of August,
the domestics, whom she had left behind her in Holy rood house,
celebrated the po])ish worship with greater publicity than had beea
. usual when she hei*self was present ; and at the time when the sacra-
JOHN KNOX". 157
inent of the Supper was dispensed in Edinburgh, they revived cer-
tain superstitious practices which had been laid aside bj the Roman
catholics since the establishment of the reformation. This boldness
offended the protestants, and some of them went down to the palace
to mark the inhabitants w^ho repaired to the service. Perceiving
numbers entering, they burst into the chapel ; and presenting tliem-
Belves at the altar, which was prepared for mass, asked the priest,
how he durst be so malapert as to proceed in that manner, when the
queen was absent. Alarmed at this intrusion, the mistress of the
household despatched a messenger to the comptroller, who was
attending sermon in St. Giles's church, desiring him to come instantly
to save her life and the palace. Having hurried down, accompanied
with the magistrates, and a guard, the comptroller found everything
quiet, and no appearance of tumult, except what was occasioned by
the company which he brought along with him. When the report
of this affair was conveyed to the queen, she declared her resolution,
not to return to Edinburgh unless this riot was punished, and indicted
two of the protestants, who had been most active, to stand trial " for
forethought felony, hamesuckin, and invasion of the palace." Fearing
that she intended to proceed to extremities against these men, and
that their condemnation was a preparative to some hostile attempts
against their religion, the protestants in Edinburgh resolved that
Knox, agreeably to a commission, should write a circular letter to
the principal gentlemen of their persuasion, informing them of the
circumstances, and requesting their presence on the day of trial.
He wrote the letter according to their request. A copy of it having
come into the hands of Sinclair, bishop of Ross, and president of the
court of session, who was a great personal enemy to Knox, he con-
veyed it immediately to the queen at Stirling. She communicated
it to the privy council, who, to her great satisfaction, pronounced it
treasonable / but to give the greater solemnity to the proceedings, it
was resolved that an extraordinary convention of the counsellors and
other noblemen should be called to meet at Edinburgh, in the end of
December, to try the cause. The reformer was summoned to appear
before this convention.
On the day appointed for the trial, the public anxiety was greatly
raised, and the palace-yard, with all the avenues, was crowded with
people, who waited to learn the result. The pannel was conducted
to the chamber in which the lords were already assembled, and en-
gaged in consultation. "When the queen had taken her seat, and
perceived Knox standing uncovered at the foot at the table, she
burst into a loud fit of laughter. " That man," she said, *' had
made her weep, and shed never a tear himself; she would now see
if she could make him weep." The secretary opened the proceed-
ings, by stating in a speech addressed to the reformer, the reasons
why the queen had convened him before her nobility. " Let him
acknowledge his own handwriting," said the queen, " and then.
we shall judge of the contents of the letter." A copy of the circular
letter being handed to him, he looked at the subscription, and said
that it was his ; and though he had subscribed a number of blanks,
he had such confidence in the fidelity of the scribe, that he
168 SCOTS WORTHIES.
was ready to acknowledge both the subscription and the contents.
" You have done more than I would have done," said Maitland.
" Charity is not suspicious," replied the other. " Well, well," said j
the queen, " read your own letter, and then answer to such things
as shall be demanded of you." " I will do the best I can," said he ;
and having read tlie letter with an audible voice, returned it to the
queen's advocate, who was commanded to accuse him.
" Heard you ever, my lords, a more despiteful and treasonable
letter?" said the queen, looking round the table. "Mr. Knox, are
you not sorry from your heart, and do you not repent that such a
letter has passed your pen, and from you has come to the knowledge
of others ?" said Maitland. " My lord secretary, before I repent, I
must be taught my offence." — " Offence ! if there were no more but
the convocation of the queen's lieges, the offence cannot be denied."
— " Remember yourself, my lord, there is a difference between a
lawful convocation and an unlawful. If I have been guilty in this,
I offended oft since I came last into Scotland, for what convocation
of the brethren has ever been to this hour, unto which my pen served
not?" — " Then was then, and now is now," said the secretary; " we
have no need of such convocations as sometimes we have had." —
" The time that has been is even now before my eyes," rejoined the
reformer ; " for I see the poor flock in no less danger than it has
been at any time before, except that the devil has got a vizor upon
his face. Before, he came in with his own face, discovered by open
tyranny, seeking the destruction of all that refused idolatry ; and
then, I tiiink, you will confess the brethren lawfully assembled them-
selves for defence of their lives ; and now, the devil comes under the
cloak of justice, to do that which God would not suffer him to do by
strength" —
" What is this ?" interrupted her majesty, who was offended that
the pannel should be allowed such liberty of speech, and thought
that she could bring him more closely to the question. " What is
this ? Methinks you trifle with him. Who gave him authority to
make convocation of my lieges ? Is not that treason ?" " ISTo,
Madam," replied Lord Ruthven, displeased at the active keenness
which the queen showed in the cause ; " for he makes convocation
of the peoj^le to hear prayer and sermon almost daily ; and whatever
your Grace or others will think thereof, we think it no treason." —
"Hold your peace," said the queen ; " and let him make answer for
himself." — " i be^an. Madam," resumed Knox, " to reason with the
secretary (whom I take to be a better dialectician than your Grace)
that all convocations are not unlawful ; and now my lord Ruthven
has given the instance." — " I will say nothing against your religion,
nor against your convening to your sermons ; but what authority
have you to convocate my subjects when you will, without my com-
mandment?" He answered, that at his own will he had never con-
vened four persons in Scotland ; but at the orders of his brethren he
had given many advertisements, and great multitudes had assem-
bled ; and if her Grace complained that this had been done without
her command, he would answer, so w^as all that had been done as to
the reformation of relig:on in this kingdom. He must, therefore, be
JOHN KNOX. 1^9
convicted by a just law, before he would profess sorrow for wliat be
bad done. He tbought be bad done no wrong.
" You sball not escape so," said the queen. " Is it not treason, my
lords, to accuse a prince of cruelty ? I think there be acts of parlia-
ment against such whisperers." Several of their lordships said that
there were such laws. " But wherein can I be accused of this ?" —
'' Kead this part of your own bill," said the queen, who showed her-
self an acute prosecutor. She then caused the following sentence to
be read from his letter. — " This fearful summons is directed against
them [the two persons who were indicted] to make no doubt a
preparative on a few, that a door may be opened to execute cruelty
upon a greater multitude." — " Lo !" exclaimed the queen exultingly ;
" what say you to that ?" — The eyes of the assembly were fixed on
the pannel, anxious to know w^hat answer he would make to this
charge.
" Is it lawful for me. Madam, to answer for myself? or, shall I be
condemned unheard ?" — " Say what you can : for I think yon have
enough to do." — I will first then desire of your Grace, Madam, and
of this most honourable audience, Whether your Grace knows not,
that the obstinate papists are deadly enemies to all such as profess
the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that they most earnestly desire the
extermination of them, and of the true doctrine that is taught
within this realm ?" The queen was silent : but the lords, with one
voice, exclaimed, " God forbid, that ever the lives of the faithful, or
yet the staying of the doctrine, stood in the power of the papists !
for just experience has taught us what cruelty lies in their hearts."
" I must proceed, then," said the reformer. " Seeing that I perceive
that all will grant, that it were a barbarous thing to destroy such a
multitude as profess the gospel of Christ within this realm, which
oftener than once or twice they have attempted to do by force — they,
Dj God and by his providence being disappointed, have invented
more crafty and dangerous practices ; to wit, to make the prince a
party under colour of law ; and so what they could not do by open
force, they shall perform by crafty deceit. For who thinks, my
lords, that the insatiable cruelty of the papists (within this realm I
mean,) shall end in the murdering of these two brethren, now
unjustly summoned, and more unjustly to be accused ? — And there-
fore. Madam, cast up, when you list, the acts of your parliament ; I
have offended nothing against them ; for I accuse not, in my letter,
your Grace, nor yet your nature, of cruelty. But I affirm yet again,
that the pestilent papists, who have inflamed your Grace against
these poor men at this present, are the sons of the devil, and there-
fore must obey the desires of their father, who has been a liar and
manslayer from the beginning." — " You forget yourself I you are not
now in the pulpit," said one of the lords. " I am in the place where
I am demanded of conscience to speak the truth ; and therefore the
truth I speak, impugn it whoso list." He added, again addressing
the queen, that persons who appeared to be of honest, gentle, and
meek natures, had often been corrupted by wicked counsel ; that the
papists who had her ear were dangerous counsellors, and such her
mother had found them to be. r
170 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Mary perceiving tliat nothing was to be gained by reasoning, began
to npbraid him with his liarsh behaviour to her, at tlieir last interview.
He spake " fair enough" at present before the lords, she said, but on
that occasion he caused her to shed many salt teai-s, and said, " he
set not by her weeping." This drew from him a vindication of his
conduct, in which he gave a narration of that conference. After
this, the secretary having spoken with the queen, told Knox that he
was at liberty to return home for that night. "I thank God and the
queen's majesty," said he.
Wlien Knox had withdrawn, the judgment of the nobilit}^ was
taken respecting his conduct. All oi* them, with the exception of
the immediate dependents of the court, voted, that he was not guilty
of any breach of the laws. The secretary, who had assured the queen
of his condemnation, was enraged at this decision. He brought her
majesty, who had retired before the vote, again into the room, and
proceeded to call the votes a second time in her presence. This
attempt to overawe them incensed the nobility. " What 1" said they,
" shall the laird of Lethington have power to control us ? or shall the
presence of a woman cause us to offend God, and to condemn an
innocent man, against our consciences ?" With this they repeated
their votes, absolving him from all offence, and praising his modest
appearance and judicious defences.
Mary was unable to conceal her mortification and displeasure, at
this unexpected acquittal. When the bishop of Ross, who had been
the informer, gave his vote on the same side with the rest, she
taunted him openly in the presence of the court. " Trouble not the
child ! I pray you trouble him not ! for he is newly awakened out
of his sleep. 'Why should not the old fool follow the footsteps of
those that passed before him ?" The bishop replied coldly, that her
majesty might easily know, that his vote was not influenced by par-
tiality to the accused. " That nicht was nyther dancing nor fiddleing
in the court \ the madam was disappoynted of hir purpose, quhilk
was to have had Johne Knox in hir will, be vote of hir nobility."
The indignation of the queen at the reformer's escape from punish-
naent did not soon abate, and the effects of it fell both upon the cour-
tiers who had voted for his exculpation, and upon those who had
opposed it. The earl of Moray was among the former ; Maitland
among the latter. In order to appease her, they again attempted to
persuade him to condescend to some voluntary submission to her;
and they engaged that all the punishment which should be inflicted
on him would merely be to go within the walls of the castle, and
return again to his own house. But he refused to make any such
comi^liances, by which he would throw discredit on the judgment of
the nobility who had acquitted him, and confess himself to have
been a mover of sedition. Disappointed in this, they endeavoured
to injure him by whispers and detraction, circulating that he had no
authority from his brethren for what he had done; and that he arro-
fated a papal and arbitrary power over the Scottish church, issuing
is letters, and exacting obedience to them. These charges were
very groundless and injurious ; for there never was perhaps any one
Tho had as much influence, that was so careful in avoiding all
JOHN KNOX. -[^
appearance of assuming snperiorit}^ over his brethren, or acting by
his own authority, in matters of public and common concern.
In the general assembly which met in the close of this year, he
declined taking any share in the debates. When their principal
business was settled, he requested liberty to speak on an affair which
concerned himself He stated what he had done in writing the late
circular letter, the proceedings to which it had given rise, and the
surmises which were still circulated to his prejudice ; and insisted
that the church should now examine his conduct in that matter, and
Particularly that they should declare whether or not they had given
im a commission to advertise the brethren, when he foresaw any
danger threatening their religion, or any difficult case which required
their advice. The courtiers strenuously opposed the decision of this
question ; but it was taken up, and the assembly, by a great ma-
jority, found that he had been burthened with such a commission,
and in the advertisement which he had lately given, had not gone
beyond the bounds of his commission.
Knox had remained a widower upwards of three years. But in
March, 1564, he contracted a second marriage with Margaret
Stewart, daughter of Lord Ochiltree, a nobleman of amiable dispo-
sition, who had been long familiar with our reformer, and steadily
adhered to him when he was deserted by his other friends. She con-
tinued to discharge the duties of a wife to him, with pious and
afiectionate assiduity, until the time of his death. The popish
writers, who envied the honours of the Scottish reformer, have re-
presented this marriage as a proof of his great ambition ; and, in
the excess of their spleen, have ridiculously imputed to him the pro-
ject of aiming to raise his progeny to the throne of Scotland ;
because the family of Ochiltree wer^ of the blood royal ! They are
quite clear, too, that he gained the heart of the young lady by means,
of sorcery, and the assistance of the devil. But it seems, that power-
ful as his black-footed second was, he could not succeed in another
attempt which he had previously made ; for the same writers inform
us, that he had paid his addresses to the lady Fleming, eldest daugh-
ter to the duke of Chatelherault, and was repulsed.
In the month of August, Knox went, by appointment of the
general assembly, as visitor of the churches in Aberdeen and the
north, where he remained six or seven weeks. The subsequent
^assembly gave him a similar appointment to Fife and Perthshire.
Our reformer's predictions at the last meeting of parliament were
now fully realised. Another parliament was held in the end of 1564 ;
but nothing was done for securing the protestant religion. The
queen's marriage approached, and the lords demanded this as the
condition of their consent ; but she artfully evaded the demand, and
accomplished her object. While she was arranging her plans for the
marriage, she sent for the superintendents of Lothian, Glasgow, and
File (for Knox was now inadmissible to her presence), and amused
them with fair words. She was not yet persuaded, she said, of the
truth of their religion ; but she was wdlling to hear conference and
reasoning on the subject ; she was even content to attend the public
sermons of some of them ; and, " above all others, she would gladly
172 SCOTS WORTHIES.
hear the superintendent of Angus, for he was a mild and swoet-
natured man, with true honesty and uprightness, Sir John Erskine
of Dun." But as soon as her marriage with lord Darnley was over,
she told them in very plain and determined language, " her majesty
neither will, nor may leave the religion wherein she has been nourish-
ed, and brought up." And there was no more word of hearing either
sermon or conference.
The friendship between the earl of Moray and the reformer was
renewed in the beginning of 1565. The latter was placed in a very
delicate predicament, by the insurrection under Moray, and the
other lords who opposed the queen's marriage. His father-in-law
was one of the number. They professed that the security of the pro-
testant religion was the principal ground of their taking arms ; and
they came to Edinburgh to collect men to their standard. But
whatever favour he might have for them, he kept himself clear from
any engagement. If he had taken part in this unsuccessful revolt,
we need not doubt that her majesty would have embraced the oppor-
tunity of punishing him for it, when his principal friends had fled
the kingdom.
"We hnd, in fact, that she immediately proceeded against him on
a different but far more slender pretext. The young king, who could
be either papist or protestant as it suited, went sometimes to mass
with the queen, and sometimes attended the reformed sermons. To
silence the suspicions of his alienation from the reformed religion,
circulated by the insurgent lords, he, on the 19th of August, made a
solemn appearance in St. Giles's church, sitting on a throne, which
had been prepared for his reception. Knox preached that day on
Isaiah xxvi. 13, &c., and happened to prolong the service beyond his
usual time. In one part of the sermon, he quoted these words of
Scripture : " I will give children to be their princes, and babes shall
rule over them ; children are their oppressors, and women rule over
them ;" and in another part of it, he mentioned that God punished
Aliab, because he did not correct his idolatrous wife Jezebel. Though
no particular application was made by the preacher, the king applied
these passages to himself and the queen, and returning to^the palace
in great wrath, refused to taste dinner. The papists, who . had
accompanied him to the church, inflamed his resentment and that of
the queen, by their representations.
That very afternoon Knox was taken from bed, and carried before
the privy council. Some respectable inhabitants of the city, under-
standing his situation, accompanied him to the palace. He was told
that he liad offended the king, and must desist from preaching as
long as their majesties were in Edinburgh. He replied, that " he
had spoken nothing but according to his text; and if the church
would command him to speak or abstain, he would obey, so far as
the word of God would permit him." Spottiswood says, that he not
only stood to what he had said in the pulpit, but added, " That as
the king, for" the queen's " pleasure, had gone to mass, and dis-
honoured the Lord God, so should he in his justice, make her the
instrument of his overthrow. This speech," continues the arch-
bishop's manuscript. " esteemed too bold at the time, came afterwards
JOHN KNOX. 173
to be remembered, and was reckoned among other bis prophetical
sayings, which certainly were marvellous. The queen, enraged at
this answer, burst forth into tears."
The report of the inhibition laid upon the reformer, created great
agitation in the city. His colleague, who was appointed to supply
his place during the suspension, threatened to desist entirel}^ from
preaching. The town council met, and appointed a deputation to
wait on their majesties, and request the removal of the inhibition ;
and in a second meeting, on the same day, they came to an unani-
mous resolution, that they would " in no manner of way consent or
fra#t th^t his mouth be closed," but that he should be desired, " at
is pleasure, and as God should move his heart, to proceed forward
to true doctrine as before, which doctrine they would approve and
abide at to their life's end."
It does not appear that he continued any time suspended from
preaching. For the king and queen left Edinburgh before the next
Sabbath, and the prohibition extended only to the time of their
residence in the city. Upon their return, it is probable that the
court judged it unadvisable to enforce an order which had already
created much discontent, and might alienate the minds of the people
still farther from the present administration. Accordingly, we find
him exercising his ministry in Edinburgh with the same boldness as
formerly. Complaints were made to the council of the manner in
which he prayed for the exiled noblemen ; but secretary Maitland,
who had formerly found so much fault with his pra^^ers, defended
them on the present occasion, saying that he had heard them, and
they were such as nobody could blame.
Christopher Goodman had officiated with much acceptance as
minister of St. Andrew's, since the year 1560 ; but he was prevailed
on, by the solicitations of his friends in England, to return, about
this time, to his native country. The commissioners from St.
Andrew's were instructed to petition the general assembly, w^liich
met in December this year, that Knox should be translated from
Edinburgh to their city. They claimed a right to him, as he had
commenced his ministry among them ; and they might think that
the dissensions between the court and him would induce him to
prefer a more retired situation. But the petition was refused.
This assembly imposed on him several important services. He
was commissioned to visit the churches in the south of Scotland, and
appointed to write " a comfortable letter," exhorting the ministers,
extorters, and readers, throughout the kingdom, to persevere in the
discharge of their functions, which many of them were threatening
to throw up, on account of the non-payment of their stipends, and
exciting the people among whom they laboured to relieve their
necessities. He had formerly received an appointment to draw up
the Form of Excommunication and Public Eepentance. At this time
he was required to compose a Treatise of Fasting. The assembly,
having taken into consideration the troubles of the country, and the
dangers which threatened the whole protestant interest, appointed a
general fast to be kept through the kingdom. The form and order
to be observed on that occasion they left to be drawn out by Knox
174 SCOTS WORTHIES.
and his colleague. As nothing had been hitherto published expressly
on this subject, they were authorized to explain the duty, as well as
state the reasons which at this time called for that solemn exercise.
The whole was appointed to be ready before the time of the fast, to
serve as a directory to ministers and people.
When the queen came to Edinburgh, Knox left it, and retired to
Kyle. There is no reason to think that he was privy to the conspir-
acy which proved fatal to Rizzio. But it is probable that he had
expressed his satisiiiction at an event which contributed to the safety
of religion and the commonwealth, if not also his approbation of the
conduct of the conspirators. At any rate, he was, on other grounds,
sufficiently obnoxious to the queen ; and as her resentment, on the
present occasion, was exceedingly inflamed, it was deemed prudent
for him to witlidraw.
Having, at last, " got quit" of one who had long been troublesome
to her, she was determined to prevent his return to the capital. We
need not doubt that the town council and inhabitants, who had for-
merly refused to agree to his suspension from preaching for a short
time, would exert themselves to obtain his restoration. But she
resisted the importunities of all his friends. She was even unwilling
that he should find a refuge within the kingdom, and wrote to a
nobleman in the west country, with whom he resided, to banish him
from his house. It does not appear that he returned to Edinburgh,
or, at least, that he resumed his ministry in it, until the queen was
deprived of the government.
Being banished from his flock, he judged this a favourable oppor-
tunity for paying a visit to England. Parental afiection, on the pre-
sent occasion, increased the desire which he had long felt to accom-
plish this journey. His two sons had some time ago been sent by
him into that kingdom, probably at the desire of their mother's rela-
tions, to obtain their education in some of the English seminaries.
Having obtained the queen's safe-conduct, he applied to the general
assembly, which met in December, 1566, for their liberty to remove.
They readily granted it, upon condition of his returning against the
time of their next meeting in June ; and, at the same time, gave him
a most ample and honourable testimonial, in which they described
him as " a true and faithful minister, in doctrine pure and sincere, in
life and conversation in our sight inculpable," and one who " has so
fruitfully used that talent granted to him by the Eternal, to the
advancement of the glory of his godly name, to the propagation of
the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and edifying of them who heard his
preaching, that of duty we most heartily praise his godly name, for
that so great a benefit granted unto him for our utility and profit.
The reformer was charged with a letter from the assembly, to the
bishops and ministei-s of England, interceding for lenity to such of
their brethren as scrupled to use the sacerdotal dress, enjoined by
the laws. The controversy on that subject was at this time carried
on with great warmth among the English clergy. It is not impro-
bable, that the assembly interfered in this business at the desire of
Knox, to whom the composition of the letter was committed. He
could not have forgotten the trouble which he himself had suffered
JOHN KNOX. 175
on a 'similar ground, and lie had. a high regard for many of the
scruplers. This interposition did not procure for them any relief.
Even tliough the superior clergy had been more zealous to obtain it
than they were, Elizabeth was inflexible, and would listen neither to
the supplications of her bishops, nor the advice of her counsellors.
Knox's good opinion of the English queen does not seem to have
been improved by this visit.
There was one piece of public service which he performed, before
undertaking his journey to England. On the 23d of December, the
queen granted a commission to the archbishop of St. Andrew's, under
the privy seal, restoring him to his ancient jurisdiction, which had
been abolished, in 1560, by act of parliament. This step was taken,
partly to prepare for the restoration of the popish religion, and partly
to facilitate another dark design which was soon after disclosed.
The protestants could not fail to be both alarmed and enraged at this
daring measure. The reformer, moved both by his own zeal, and
the advice of his brethren, addressed a circular letter to the principal
protestants in the kingdom, requesting their immediate advice on
the measures most proper to be adopted on this occasion, and
enclosing a copy of a proposed supplication to the queen. This letter
discovers all the ardour of the writer's spirit, called forth by such an
occurrence.
Rizzio's assassination was acted during the time that Knox was in
England, which led to a complete revolution in the government of
the kingdom, and contrary to the designs of the actors, threw the
power solely into the hands of the protestants.
Knox was absent from Edinburgh at the time of the queen's mar-
riage with Bothwell ; but his colleague ably supported the honour of
his place and order on that occasion. Being required to publish the
banns, he reluctantly agreed, by the advice of his session, to make
known the purpose ; but at the same time protested from the pulpit,
on three several days, that he abhorred and detested the intended
marriage as unlawful and scandalous, and solemnly charged the
nobility to use their influence to prevent the queen from taking a step
which w^ould cover her with infamy. Being called before the coun-
cil, and accused of having exceeded the bounds of his commission,
he boldly replied, that the bounds of his commission were the word
of God, good laws, and natural reason, to all of which the p>roposed
marriage w^as contrary. And Bothwell being present, he charged
him With the ciime of adultery, the precipitancy with w^hich the
process of divorce had been carried through, the suspicions enter-
tained of collusion between him and his wife, of his having murdered
the king, and ravished the queen, all of which would be coniirmed,
if they carried their purpose into execution.
The events which followed in rapid succession upon this infamous
marriage ; the confederation of the nobility for revenging the king's
death, and preserving the person of the infant prince ; the flight of
Bothwell ; the surrender and imprisonment of Mary ; her resigna-
tion of the government ; the coronation of her son ; and the appoint-
ment of the earl of Moray as regent during his minority, are all well
^ lown to the readers of Scottish history.
176 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Knox seems to have returned to his charge at the time that the
queen fled with Both well to Dunbar. He w^as present in the general
assembly which met at Edinburgh on the 25th of June, and w^as
delegated by them to go to the west country, and endeavoui- to per-
suade the Ilamiltons, and others who still stood aloof from the
confederated lords, to join with them in settling the distracted affairs
of the country, and to attend a general convention of the delegates
of the churches, to be held on the 20th of July following. He was
unsuccessful in this negotiation. ]3ut the convention was held, and
the nobles, barons, and other commissioners, who were present,
subscribed a number of articles, with reference to religion and the
state of the nation.
On the 29th of July, the reformer preached the sermon at the
coronation of king James YI., in the parish church of Stirling. He
objected to the ceremony of unction, as a Jewish rite, abused under
the papacy ; but it was deemed inexpedient to depart from the accus-
tomed ceremonial on the present occasion. It was therefore performed
by the bishop of Orkney, the superintendents of Lothian and Angus
assisting him to place the crown on the king's head. After the coro-
nation, Knox, along with some others, took instruments, and craved
extracts of the proceedings.
When the queen was confined by the lords in the castle of Loch-
leven, they had not resolved in what manner they should dispose of
her person for the future. Some proposed tliat she should be allowed
to leave the kingdom ; some that she should be imprisened during
life ; while others insisted that she ought to suffer capital punishment.
Of this last opinion was Knox, with almost all the ministers, and the
great body of the people. The chief ground upon which they
insisted for this, was not her maladministration in the government,
or the mere safety and peace of the commonwealth — which were the
reasons upon which the parliament of England, in the following
century, proceeded to the execution of her grandson ; — but they
grounded their opinion upon the personal crimes with which Mary
was charged. Murder and adultery, they reasoned, were crimes to
which the punishment of death was allotted by the law of God and
of nations. From this penalty persons of no rank could plead
exemption. The ordinary forms of judicial procedure, indeed, made
no provision for the trial of a supreme magistrate for these crimes ;
because the laws did not suppose that such enormous offences would
be committed by them. But extraordinary cases required extraor-
dinary remedies ; and new offences gave birth to new laws. There
were examples in Scripture of the capital punishment of princes,
and precedents for it in the history of their own country.
Upon these grounds, Knox scrupled not publicly to maintain, that
the estates of the kingdom ought to bring Mary to a trial, and if she
was found guilty of the murder of her husband, and an adulterous
connexion with Bothwell, that she ought to be put to death. Throck-
morton, the English ambassador, had a conference with him, with the
view of mitigating the rigour of this judgment ; but though he
acquiesced in the resolution adopted by the lords to detain her in
prison, he retained his sentiment, and, after the civil war w^as kindled
JOHN KNOX.
17T
by her escape, repeatedly said, that he considered the nation as
suffering for their criminal lenity.
The earl of Moray, being established in the regencj^, directed his
attention, at an early period, to the settlement of religion, and the
redressing of the principal grievances of which the church had long
complained. A parliament being summoned to meet in the middle
of December, he, with the advice of the privy council, previously
nominated certain barons, and commissioners of boroughs, to consult
upon and digest such overtures as were proper to be laid before that
assembly. With these he joined Knox, and other four ministers, to
assist in matters which related to the church. This committee met
in the beginning of December, and sat until the opening of the par-
liament. The record of their proceedings, both as to civil and eccle-
siastical aifairs, is preserved; and, as many of their propositions
were not adopted by the parliament, it is valuable as a declaration
of the sentiments of a number of the most able men in the kingdom.
On the 15th of December, Knox preached at the opening of the
parliament, and exhorted them to begin with the aifairs of religion,
in which case they would find better success in their other business.
The parliament ratified all the acts which had been passed in 1560,
in favour of the protestant religion, and against popery. 'New
statutes of a similar kind were added. It was provided that no
prince should afterwards be admitted to the exercise of authority
in the kingdom, without taking an oath to maintain the protestant
religion ; and that none but protestants should be admitted to any
ofiice, not hereditary nor held for life. The ecclesiastical jurisdic-
tion, exercised by the different assemblies of the church, was formally
ratified, and commissioners appointed to define more exactly the
causes which properly came within the sphere of their judgment.
The thirds of benefices were appointed to be paid immediately to
collectors appointed by the church, who were to account to the
exchequer for the overplus after paying the stipends of the minis-
ters. And the funds of provostries, prebendaries, and chaplainries,
were appropriated to maintain bursars in colleges.
In the act ratifying the jurisdiction of the church, Knox was
appointed one of the commissioners for drawing out the particular
points which pertained to ecclesiastical jurisdiction, to be presented
to next meeting of parliament. The general assembly, which met
about the same time, gave him a commission, along with some others,
to act for them in this matter, and, in general, to consult with the
regent and council on such ecclesiastical questions as occurred after
the dissolution of that assembly. He was also appointed to assist the
superintendent of Lothian in his visitation, and afterwards to visit
the churches in Kyle, Carrick, and Cunningham.
Our reformer had now reached that point from which he could
take a calm and deliberate view of the dangerous and bustling scene
through which he had passed, and the termination to which the
arduous struggle in which he had been so long engaged, was now
happily brought. Superstition and ignorance were overthrown and
dispelled ; true religion was established ; the supreme government
of the nation was in the hands of one in whose wisdom and integrity
12
178 SCOTS WORTHIES.
he had the greatest confidence ; the church was freed from many of
those grievances under which she had hitherto groaned, and enjoyed
the prospect of obtaining the redress of such as still remained. The
work on which his heart had been so ardently set for such a lon^
period, and for the success of which he had so often trembled, had
prospered beyond his utmost expectation. He now congratulated
himself on being released from all burden of public anairs, and
spending the remainder of his days in religious meditation, and pre-
paration fur that event of which his increasing infirmities admon-
ished him. He even secretly cherished the wish of resigning his
charge in Edinburgh, and retiring to that privacy, from which he
had been drawn at the commencement of the Scottish reformation.
But " the way of man is not in himself" Providence had allotted
to him further trials of a public nature ; he was yet to see the secu-
rity of the reformed religion endangered, and the country involved
in another civil war, even more distressing than the former, inas-
much as the principal persons on each side were professed protest-
ants. From the time that the government was transferred from
Mary to her infant son, and the earl of Moray appointed to the
regency, a number of the nobility, with the house of Hamilton at
their head, had stood aloof, and, from other motives as much as
attachment to the queen, had refused to acknowledge the authority
of the regent. Upon the escape of the queen from imprisonment,
they collected to her standard, and avowed their design to restore
her to the full exercise of the royal authority. In consequence of the
defeat at Langside, Mary was driven from the kingdom, and her
party broken ; and the regent, by his vigorous measures, reduced
the whole kingdom to a state of obedience to the king's authority.
Despairing to accomplish their object during his life, the partisans
of Mary resolved to cut him off by private means.
The regent was assassinated on Saturday, 23d January, 15Y0, and
the intelligence was conveyed early next morning to Edinburgh. It
is impossible to describe the anguish which the reformer felt on this
occasion. A cordial and intimate friendship had long subsisted
between them. Of all the Scottish nobility, he placed the greatest
confidence in Moray's attachment to religion; and his conduct after
his elevation to the regency, had served to heighten the good opinion
which he formerly entertained of him. He looked upon his death as
the greatest calamity which could befall the nation, and the forerun-
ner uf other evils. When the shock produced by the melancholy
tidings had subsided, the first thought that rushed into his mind was
that he had himself been the instrument of obtaining, from his
clemency, a pardon to the man who had become his murderer, — a
thought which naturally produced a very different impression on him
from what it did on the dying regent.
In his sermon that day, he introduced the subject ; and after say-
ing, that God in his great mercy had raised up godly rulers, and
took them away in his displeasure on account of the sins of a nation,
he thus poured out the sorrows of his heart in an address to God.
" O Lord, in what misery and confusion found he this realm ! To
what rest and quietness now by his labours suddenly he brought the
JOHN KNOX. 179
same, all estates, but especially the poor commons, can witness.
Thy image, O Lord, did so clearly shine in that personage, that the
devil, and the wicked to w^hom he is prince, could not abide it ; and
so to punish our sins and our ingratitude (who did not rightly esteem
so precious a gift), thou hast permitted him to fall, to our great grief
in the hands of cruel and traitorous murderers. He is at rest, O
Lord — we are left in extreme misery."
Only a few days before this, w^hen the murder was fully concerted,
the abbot of Kilwinning applied to Knox to intercede with the regent
in behalf of his kinsmen, who were confined for practising against
the government. He signified his readiness to do all in his power
for Sie relief of any of that family who were willing to own the
authority of the king and regent ; but he entreated him not to abuse
him, by employing his services, if any mischief were intended
against the regent ; for, " I protest," said he, " before God, who is
the only witness now betwixt us, that if there be anything attempt-
ed, by any of that surname, against the person of that man, in that
case, I discharge myself to you and them for ever." After the
assassination, the abbot sent to desire another interview ; but Knox:
refused to see him, and desired the messenger to say to him, " I
have not now the regent to make suit unto for the Hamiltons."
At this time there was handed about a fabricated account of
a pretended conference held by the late regent with lord Lindsay,
"Wishart of Pittarrow, the tutor of Pitcur, James Macgill, and
Knox, in which they were represented as advising him to set aside
the young king, and place the crown on his own head. The modes
of expression peculiar to each of the persons were carefully imitated
in the speeches put into their mouths, to give it the greater air of
credibility. The design of it evidently was to lessen the odium of
the murder, and the veneration of the people for the memory of
Moray ; but it was universally regarded as an impudent and gross
forgery. Its fabricator was Thomas Maitland, a young man of
talents, but corrupted by his brother the secretary, who before this
had engaged himself to the queen's party, and was suspected of
having a deep hand in the plot for cutting off the regent.
On the day on which the weekly conference was held in
Edinburgh, the same person slipped into the pulpit a schedule,
containing words to this effect : " Take up now the man whom you
accounted another God, and consider the end to which his ambition
hath brought him." Knox, whose turn it was to preach that day,
took up the paper on entering the pulpit, supposing it to be a note
requesting the prayers of the congregation for a sick person, and,
having read it, laid it aside without any apparent emotion. But
towards the conclusion of his sermon, having deplored the loss
which the church and commonwealth had recently sustained, and
declared the account of the conference, which had been circulated,
to be false and calumnious, he said that there were persons who
rejoiced at the treasonable murder, and scrupled not to make it the
subject of their merriment ; particularly there was one present who
had thrown ir, a writing insulting over an event which was the
cause of grief to all good men. '' That wicked man, whosoever ho
180 SCOTS WOrxTHIE^s.
be, shall not go unpunished, and shall die where there shall be none
to lament him/' Maitland, when he went home, said to his sister,
that the preacher was raving, when he spake in such manner of a
person who was unknown to him ; but she, understanding that her
brother had written the line, reproved him, saying with tears, that
none of that man's denunciations were wont to prove idle. Spottis-
wood, who had liis information personally from the mouth of that
lady, says, that Maitland died in Italy, " having no known person to
attend him."
Upon Tuesday, the 14th of February, the regent's corpse was
brought from the palace of Holyroodhouse, and interred in the
south aisle of the collegiate church of St. Giles. Before the funeral,
Knox preached a sermon on these words, "Blessed are the dead
which die in the Lord." Three thousand persons were dissolved in
tears before him, while he described the regent's virtues, and
bewailed his loss. Buchanan paid his tribute to the memory of the
deceased, by writing the inscription placed on his monument, with
that expressive simplicity and brevity which are dictated by genuine
grief. A convention of the nobility was held after the funeral, at
w^hich it was resolved to avenge his death ; but different opinions
were entertained as to the mode of doing this, and the commons
complained loudly of the remissness with which it was carried
into execution. The general assembly, at their first meeting, testified
their detestation of the crime, by ordering the assassin to be publicly
excommunicated in all the chief towns of the kingdom, and
appointed the same process to be used against all who should
afterwards be convicted of accession to the conspiracy.
During the sitting of the convention, Knox received a number of
letters from his acquaintances in England, expressive of their high
regard for the character of the regent, and their sorrow at so grievous
a loss. One of his correspondents. Dr. Laurence Humphrey, urged
him to write a memoir of the deceased. Had he done this, he
would no doubt, from his intimate acquaintance with him, have
communicated a number of particulars of which we must now be
content to remain ignorant. But though he had been disposed to
undertake this task, the state of his health must have prevented its
execution.
The grief which he indulged, in consequence of this mournful,
event, and the confusions which followed it, preyed upon his spirits,
and injured his health. In the month of October, he had a stroke
of apoplexy, which affected his speech to a considerable degree.
Upon this occasion, his enemies exulted, and circulated the most
exaggerated tales. The report ran through England as well as
Scotland, that John Knox would never preach nor speak more ; that
his face was turned into his neck ; that he was become the most
deformed creature ever seen ; that he was actually dead ; — a most
unequivocal expression of the high consideration in which he was
held, which our reformer received in common with some other great
men of his age.
Those who flattered themselves that the reformer's disorder was
mortal were disappointed ; for he convalesced, recovered the use of
JOHN KNOX. 181
his speech, and was able, in the course of a few days, to resume ^
preaching, at least on Sabbath days. He never recovered, however,
from the debility which was produced by the stroke. He never went
abroad except on Sabbath days, to preach in the forenoon. He had
given np attendance upon church courts. He liad, previous to
the breaKing out of the last disturbances, weaned his heart from
public affairs. But whenever he saw the welfare of the church and
commonwealth threatened, he forgot his resolutions and his infirm-
ities, and entered into the cause with all the keenness of his more
vigorous days. Whether the public proceedings of the nation, or
his own conduct, were arraigned and condemned, whether the
attacks upon them were open or clandestine, he stood prepared to
repel them, and convinced the adversaries, that they could not
accomplish their designs without opposition, as long as he was able
to move a tongue.
His situation in Edinburgh became very critical in April, 1571,
when Grange received the Hamiltons, with their forces, into the
castle. Their inveteracy against him was so great, that his friends
were obliged to watch his house during the night. They wished to
form a guard for his protection when he went abroad ; but the
governor of the castle forbade this, as implying a suspicion of him,
and offered to send Melvill, one of his officers, to conduct him to and
from church. " He wold gif the woulf the wedder to keip," says
Bannatyne. The duke and his friends refused to pledge their word
for his safety, because " there were many rascals among them who
loved him not." Intimations were often given him of threatenings
against his life ; and one evening, as he sat in his house, a musket-
ball was fired in at the window, and lodged in the roof of the room.
It happened that he sat at the time in a different part of the room
from his usual, otherwise the ball, from the direction which it took,
must have struck him. Upon this a number of the inhabitants,
along with his colleague, repaired to him, and renewed a request
which they had formerly made, that he would remove from Edin-
burgh, to a place where his life would be in greater safety, until
such time as the queen's party should evacuate the town. But he
refused to yield to them, apprehending that his enemies wished to
intimidate him into flight, that they might carry on their designs
more quietly, and then accuse him of cowardice. Being unable to
persuade him by any other means, they at last had recourse to an
argument which prevailed. They told him that they were deter-
mined to defend him, if attacked, at the peril of their lives, and if
blood was shed in the quarrel, which was highly probable, they
would leave it on his head. Upon this, he consented, '' sore against
his will," to leave that city.
On the fifth of May he left Edinburgh, and crossing the frith at
Leith, travelled by short stages to St. Andrew's, which he had chosen
as the place of his retreat. Alexander Gordon, bishop of Galloway,
occupied his pulpit. He preached and prayed in a manner more
acceptable to the queen's party than his predecessor, but little to the
satisfaction of the people, who despised him on account of his weak-
ness, and disliked him for supplanting their favourite pastor. The
182 SCOTS WORTHIES.
church of Edinburgh was for a time dissolved. A great number of
its most respectable members either were driven from the city, or
left it throuojb dissatisfaction. The celebration of the Lord's Supper
was suspended. During a whole week '' there was neither ])reuch-
ing nor prayer, neither was there any sound of bell heard in all the
town, except the ringing of the cannon."
Amidst the extreme hostility by which both parties were inflamed,
and which produced several disgraceful acts of mutual retaliation,
many proofs were exhibited of the personal antipathy which the
queen's adherents bore to the reformer. An inhabitant of Leith was
assaulted, and his body mutilated, because he was of the same name
with him. A servant of John Craig being met one day by a recon-
noitering party, and asked who was- his master, answered in \m
trepidation, Mr. Knox, upon which he was seized ; and, although he
immediately corrected his mistake, they desired him to " hold at
his first master," and haled him to prison. Having fortified St.
Giles's steeple, to overawe the town, the soldiers baptized one of the
cannons by the name of Juiox, which they were so fond of firing,
that it burst, killed two of the party, and wounded others. They
circulated the most ridiculous tales respecting his conduct at St.
Andrew's. John Law, the letter-carrier of St. Andrew's, being in the
castle of Edinburgh, " the ladie Home and utheris wald neidis thraip
in his face, that" John Knox " was banist the said toune, becaus that
in the yarde he had reasit st'.7n Sanctis^ amongis whome thair came up
the devill with hornis^ which when his servant Kichart sawe, [he]
ran woode, and so died."
Although he was free from personal danger, Knox did not find St.
Andrew's that peaceful retreat which he had expected. The Kircal-
dies and Balfours were a considerable party in that quarter, and the
Hamiltons had their friends both in the university and among the
ministry. These were thorns in the reformer's side, and made his
situation uneasy, as long as he resided among them. Having left
Edinburgh, because he could not be permitted to discharge his con-
science, in testifying against the designs of persons whom he re-
garded as conspirators against the legal government of the country,
and the security of the reformed religion, it was not to be expected
that he would preserve silence on this subject at St. Andrew's. In
the discourses which he preached on the eleventh chapter of Daniel's
prophecy, he frequently took occasion to advert to tlie transactions
of his own time, and to inveigh against the murder of the late king
and the regent. This was very grating to the ears of the opposite
faction, particularly to Robert and Archibald Hamilton, the former a
minister of the city, and the latter a professor in one of the colleges.
Displeased with his censures of his relations, and aware of his popu-
larity in the pulpit, Robert Hamilton circulated in private, that it
did not become Knox to exclaim so loudly against murderers ; for
he had seen his subscription, along with that of the earl of Moray,
to a bond for assassinating Darnley. But when the reformer replied
to him, Hamilton denied that he had ever spoken such words.
During his stay at St. Andrew's, he published a vindication of the
reformed religion, in answer to a letter written by a Scots Jesuit,
JOHN KNOX.
183
called Tyrie. The argumentative part of the work was finished by
him in 1568 ; but he sent it abroad at this time, with additions, as a
farewell address to the world, and a dying testimony to the truth
which he had so long taught and defended. Along with it he pub-
lished one of his religious letters to his mother-in-law, Mrs. Bowes;
and, in an advertisement prefixed to this, he informs us that she had
lately departed this life, and that he could not allow the opportunity
to slip of acquainting the public, by means of this letter, with the
principal cause of that intimate Christian friendship which had so
long subsisted between them.
ihe ardent desire which he felt to be released, by death, from the
troubles of the present life, appears in all that he wrote about this
time. " Wearie of the world," and *' thristing to depart," are ex-
pressions frequently used by him. The dedication of the above
work is thus inscribed: "John Knox, the servant of Jesus Christ,
now wearie of the world, and daylie luiking for the resolution of this
my earthly tabernakle, to the faithful that God of his mercie shall
appoint to fight after me." In the conclusion of it he says, " Call for
me, deir brethren, that God, in his mercie, will pleas to put end to
my long and paneful battell. For now being unable to fight, as God
sumtymes gave strength, I thrist an end, befoir I be more
troublesum to the faithfull. And yet. Lord, let my desyre be
moderat be thy Holy Spirit." In a prayer subjoined to the dedica-
tion are these words, " To thee, O Lord, I commend my spirit. For
I thrist to be resolved from this body of sin, and am assured that I
shall rise agane in glorie ; howsoever it be that the wicked for a tyme
sail trode me and others thy servandes under their feit. Be merciful,
O Lord, unto the kirk within this realme ; continew with it the light
of thy evangell ; augment the number of true preicheris. And let
thy mercyfull providence luke upon my desolate bedfellow, the fruit
of hir bosome, and my two deir children, Nathaneal and Eleazer.
[NTow, Lord, put end to my miserie." The advertisement " to the
Faithful Keader," dated from St. Andrew's, 12th July, 1572, con-
cludes in the following manner : " I hartly salute and take my good
night of all the faithful in both realmes, earnestly desyring the
assistance of their prayers, that, without any notable slander to the
evangel of Jesus Christ, I may end my battell. For as the world is
wearie of me, so am I of it."
The general assembly being appointed to meet at Pertli on the 6th
August, he took his leave of them in a letter, along with which he
transmitted certain articles and questions which he recommended to
their consideration. The assembly returned him an answer, declar-
ing their approbation of his propositions, and their earnest desires
for his preservation and comfort. The last piece of public service
which he performed at their request, was examining and approving
a sermon which had been lately preached by David Ferguson,
minister of Dunfermline. His subscription to this sermon, like
everything which proceeded from his mouth or pen, about this time,
is uncommonly striking. " John Knox, with my dead hand, but
flaid heart, praising God, that of his mercy he levis such light to his
irk in this desolatioun."
184 SCOTS WORTfflES.
From tbe rapid decline of our reformer's health, in spring 1572,
there was every appearance of his ending his days in St. Andrew's ;
but it pleased God that he should be restored once more to his flock,
and allowed to die peaceably in his own bed. In consequence of a ces-
sation of arms agreed to, in the end of July, between the regent and
the adherents of tlie queen, the city of Edinburgh was abandoned
by the forces of the latter, and secured from the annoyance of the
garrison in the castle. As soon as the banished citizens returned to
their houses, tliey sent a deputation to St. Andrew's, with a letter to
their minister, expressive of their earnest desire " that once again his
voice might be heard among them," and intreating him immediately
to come to Edinburgh, if his health would at all permit him. After
reading the letter, and conversing with the commissioners, he agreed
to return, but under the express condition, that he should not be
urged to observe silence respecting the conduct of those who held
the castle against the regent ; " whose treasonable and tyrannical
deeds," he said, " he would cry out against, as long as he was able
to speak." He therefore desired them to acquaint their constituents
with this, lest they should afterwards repent of his austerity, and be
apprehensive of ill treatment on his account. This he repeated upon
his return to Edinburgh, before he entered the pulpit. Both the
commissioners and the rest of their brethren assured him, that they
did not mean to put a bridle in his mouth ; but wished him to dis-
charge his duty as he had been accustomed to do.
On tlie ITth of August, to the great joy of the queen's faction,
whom he had overawed during his residence among them, the re-
former left St. Andrew's, along with his family, and was accompa-
nied on his journey by a number of his brethren and acquaintances.
Being obliged by his weakness to travel slowly, it was the 23d of
the month before he reached Leith, from w^hich, after resting a day
or two, he came to Edinburgh. The inhabitants enjoyed the satis-
faction of seeing him again in his own pulpit, on the first Sabbath
after he arrived ; but his voice was now so enfeebled that he could
not be heard by the half of the congregation. Nobody was more
sensible of this than himself. He therefore requested his session to
provide a smaller house in which he could be heard, if it were only
by a hundred persons; for his voice, even in its best time, was not
able to extend over the multitude which assembled in the large
church, much less now when he was so debilitated. This was done
accordingly.
During his absence, a coolness had taken place between his col-
league and the parish, who found fault with him for temporizing
during the time that the queen's faction retained possession of the
city. In consequence of this, they had separated, and Craig was
gone to another part of the country. Knox perceiving that he would
not long be able to preach, and that he was already incapacitated
for all other ministerial duties, was extremely solicitous to have one
settled as his colleague, that the congregation might not be left " as
sheep without a shepherd," when he was called away. The last
general assembly having granted to the church of Edinburgh liberty
to choose any minister within the kingdom, those of Dundee an(f
JOHN KNOX. 185
Perth excepted, tl>ey now unanimously fixed upon James Lawson,
sub-principal of the college of Aberdeen. This choice was very
agreeable to the reformer, who, in a letter sent along with those of
the superintendent and session, urged him to comply with the call
without delay. Though this letter has already appeared in print,
yet as it is not long, and is very descriptive of his frame of mind at
this interesting period, we shall lay it before the reader.
" All worldlie strenth, yea ewin in thingis spiritual 1, decay es ; and
yit sail never the work of God decay. Belovit brother, seeing that
God of his mercie, far above my expectatione, has call it me ones
•agane to Edinburgh, and yet that I feill nature so decayed, and day-
lie to decay, that I luke not for a long continewance of my battell,
I wald gladlie anes discharge my conscience into your bosome, and
into the bosome of vtheris, in whome I think the feare of God re-
manes. Gif I had had the habilitie of bodie, I suld not have put
you to the pane to the whilk I now requyre you, that is, anes to visit
me, that we may conferre together of heawinlie things ; for into
earth there is no stabilitie, except the kirk of Jesus Christ, ever
fightand vnder the crosse, to whose myghtie protectione I hartlie
comit yeu. Of Edinburgh the vii of September, 1572. Jhone
In a postscript these expressive words were added, " Haste, bro-
ther, lest you come too late."
In the beginning of September, intelligence came to Edinburgh, that
the admiral of France, the brave, the generous, the pious Coligni was
murdered in the city of Paris by the orders of Charles IX. Imme-
diately on the back of this, tidings arrived of that most detestable and
unparalleled scene of barbarity and treachery, the general massacre
of the protestants throughout that kingdom. Post after post brought
fresh accounts of the most shocking and unheard-of cruelties. Hired
cut-throats, and fanatical cannibals marched from city to city, par-
aded the streets, and entered into the houses of those that were
marked out for destruction. 'No reverence was shown to the hoary
head, no respect to rank or talents, no pity to tender age or sex.
Aged matrons, women upon the point of their delivery, and children,
were trodden under the feet of the assassins, or dragged with hooks
into the rivers ; others, after being throwi into prison, were instantly
brought out, and butchered in cold blood. Seventy thousand persons
were murdered in one week. For several days the streets of Paris
literally ran with blood. The savage monarch, standing at the win-
dows of the palace, with his courtiers, glutted his eyes with the in-
human spectacle, and amused himself with tiring upon the miserable
fugitives who sought shelter at his merciless gates.
The intelligence of this massacre (for which a solemn thanksgiving
was offered up at Rome by order of the pope,) produced the same
horror and consternation in Scotland as in every other protestant
country. It inflicted a deep wound on the exhausted spirit of Knox.
Besides the blow struck at the whole reformed bodies, he had to
lament the loss of many individuals eminent for piety, learning, and
rank, whom he numbered among his acquaintances. Being conveyed
to the pulpit, and summoning up the remainder of his strength, he
186 SCOTS WORTHIES.
thundered the vengeance of Heaven against that cruel murderer and
false traitor, the king of France, and desired Le Croc, the French
ambassador, to tell his master, that sentence was pronounced against
him in Scotland, that the divine vengeance would never depart from
him, nor from his house, if repentence did not ensue ; but his name
would remain an execration to posterity, and none proceeding from
his loins would enjoy that kingdom in peace. The ambassador com-
plained of the indignity offered to his master, and required the re-
gent to silence the preacher ; but this was refused, upon which he
left Scotland.
Lawson, having received the letters of invitation, hastened to
Edinburgh, and had the satisfaction to find that Knox was still able
to receive him. Having preached to the people he gave universal
satisfaction. On the following Sabbath, 21st September, Knox
began to preach in the Tolbooth church, which was now fitted up for
him. He chose for the subject of his discourses, the account of our
Saviour's crucifixion, as recorded in the 27th chapter of the gospel
according to Matthew, a theme upon which he often expressed a
wush to close his ministry. On Sabbath, the 9th of November, he
presided in the installation of Lawson as his colleague and successor.
The sermon was preached by him in the Tolbooth church ; after it
was ended, he removed, with the audience, to the large church,
where he went through the accustomed form of admission, by pro-
posing the questions to the minister and people, addressing an exhor-
tation to both, and praying for the divine blessing upon the connexion.
Upon no former occasion did he deliver himself more to the satis-
faction of those who were able to hear him. After declaring the
mutual duties of pastor and congregation, he protested in the presence
of Him before whom he expected soon to appear, that he had walked
among them with a good conscience, preaching the gospel of Jesus
Christ in all sincerity, not studying to please men nor to gratify his
own afiections ; he praised God, that he had been pleased to give
them a pastor in his room, when he was now unable to teach ; he
fervently prayed, that any gifts which had been conferred on himself
might be augmented a thousand fold to his successor ; and in a most
serious and impressive manner, he exhorted and charged all present
to adhere steadfastly to the faith which they had professed. Having
finished the service, and pronounced the blessing with a cheerful
but exhausted voice, he came down from the pulpit, and, leaning
upon his staff, crept down the street, which was lined with the
audience, who, as if anxious to take the last sight of their beloved
pastor, followed him until he entered his house. He never again
came out alive.
On the Tuesday following (Nov. 11), he was seized with a severe
cough, which, together with the defluxion, greatly affected his
breathing. When his friends, anxious to prolong his life, proposed
to call in the assistance of physicians, he readily acquiesced, saying,
that he would not neglect the ordinary means of health, although he
was persuaded that the Lord would soon put an end to all his troubles.
It was his ordinary practice to read every day some chapters of the
Old and New Testaments ; to which he added a certain number of
JOHN KNax. 137
the Psalms of David, the whole of which he perused regularly once
a-month. On Thursday the 13th, he sickened, and was obliged to
desist from his course of reading, but he gave directions to his wife,
and to his secretary, Richard Bannatyne, that one of them should
every day read to him, with a distinct voice, the 17th chapter of the
Gospel according to John, the 53d of Isaiah, and a chapter of the
Epistle to the Ephesians. This was punctually complied with during
the whole time of his sickness ; so that scarcely an hour passed in
which some part of the Scripture was not read. Besides the above
passages, he at different times fixed on certain Psalms, and some of
Calvin's French sermons on the Ephesians. Sometimes as they were
reading these sermons, thinking him to be asleep, they asked him if
he heard, to which he answered, " I hear (I praise God), and under-
stand far better," which words lie uttered for the last time, about
four hours before his death.
The same day on which he sickened, he desired his wife to
discharge the servants' wages ; and next day wishing to pay one of
his men-servants himself, he gave him twenty shillings above his fee,
adding, '■' Thou wilt never receive more of me in this life." To all
his servants he gave suitable exhortations to walk in the fear of God,
and as became Christians who had been educated in his family.
On Friday the 14th, he rose from bed sooner than his usual hour;
and, thinking that it was the Sabbath, said that he meant to go to
church, and preach on the resurrection of Christ, npon which he had
meditated through the whole night. This was the subject upon,
which he should have preached in his ordinary course. But he was
so weak, that he needed to be supported from his bed-side, by two
men, and it was with great difficulty that he could sit on a chair.
!N^ext day at noon, John Durie, and Archibald Steward, two of his
intimate acquaintances, came into his room, not knowing that he was
so sick. He rose, however, on their account ; and having prevailecj
on them to stay dinner, he came to the table, which was the last
time that he ever sat at it. He ordered a hogshead of wine which
was in his cellar to be pierced: and, with a hilarity which he
delighted to indulge among his friends, desired Archibald Steward
to send for some of it as long as it lasted, for he would not tarry
until it was all drunk.
On Sabbath he kept his bed, and mistaking it for the first day of
the fast appointed on account of the French massacre, refused to
take any dinner. Fairley of Braid, who was present, informed him
that the fast did not commence until the following Sabbath, and
sitting down, and dining before his bed, prevailed on him to take a
little food.
He was very anxious to meet once more with the session of his
church, to leave them his dying charge, and bid them a last fare-
well. In compliance with this wish, his colleague, the elders, and
deacons, with David Lindsay, one of the ministers of Leith, assem-
bled in his room on Monday, the iTth, when he addressed them in
the following words, which made a deep and lasting impression on
the minds of all. " The day now approaches and is before the door,
for which I have frequently and vehemently thirsted, when I shall
188 SCOTS WORTHIES.
be released from my great labours and innumerable sorrows, and
sball be witb Christ. And now, God is mj^ witness, whom I have
served in spirit, in the gospel of liis Son, that I have taught nothing
but the true and solid doctrine of the gospel of the Son of God, and
have had it fur m}' only object to instruct the ignorant, to confirm
the faithful, to comfort the weak, the fearful, and the distressed, by
the promises of grace, and to figlit against the proud and rebellious,
by the divine threatenings. I know that many have frequently and
loudly complained, and do jet complain, of my too great severity ;
but God knows that my mind w^as always void of hatred to the per-
sons of those against whom I thundered the severest judgments. I
cannot deny but that I felt the greatest abhorrence at the sins in
which they indulged, but I still kept this one thing in view, that if
possible I knight gain them to the Lord. "What influenced me to
utter whatever the Lord put into my mouth so boldly, without
respect of persons, was a reverential fear of my God, who called, and
of his grace appointed me to be a steward of divine mysteries, and a
belief that he will demand an account of my discharge of the trust
committed unto me, when I shall stand before his tribunal. I
profess, therefore, before God, and before his holy angels, that I
never made merchandise of the sacred word of God, never studied to
j^lease men, never indulged my own private passions or those of
others, but faithfully distributed the talent intrusted to me, for the
edification of the church over which I watched. Whatever obloquy
wicked men may cast on me respecting this point, I rejoice in the
testimony of a good conscience. In the mean time, my dearest
brethren, do you persevere in the eternal truth of the gospel ; wait
diligently on the flock over which the Lord hath set you, and which
he redeemed w^ith the blood of his only begotten Son. And thou,
my brother Lawson, fight the good fight, and do the work of the
Lord joyfully and resolutely. The Lord from on high bless you, and
the whole church of Edinburgh, against whom, as long as they
persevere in the word of truth which they have heard of me, the
gates of hell shall not prevail." Having warned them against coun-
tenancing those who disowned the king's authority, and made some
observations on a complaint which Maitland had lodged against him
before the session, he was so exhausted that he was obliged to desist
from speaking. Those who were present were filled with both joy
and grief by this affecting address. After reminding him of the
warfare which he had endured, and the triumph which awaited him,
and joining in prayer, they took their leave of him in tears.
"When they were going out, he desired his colleague and Lindsay
to remain behind, to whom he said : "There is one thing that greatly
grieves me. You have been witnesses of the former courage and
constancy of Grange in the cause of God ; but now, alas ! into what
a gulf has he precipitated himself? I entreat you not to refuse to
go, and tell him from me, that John Knox remains the same man
now, when he is going to die, that ever he knew him when able in
body, and wills him to consider what he was, and the estate in which
he now stands, which is a great part of his trouble. [N'either the
craggy rock in which he miserably confides, nor the carnal prudence
JOHN KNOX. 189
of tliat man (Maltland), whom he esteems a demigod, nor the assist-
ance of strangers, shall preserve him ; but he shall be disgracefully-
dragged from his nest to punishment, and hung on a gallows before
the face of the sun, unless he speedily amend his life, and flee to the
mercy of God. That man's soul is dear to me, and I would not have
it perish, if I could save it." The ministers undertook to execute
this commission, and going up to the castle, obtained an interview
with the governor, and delivered their message. He at first exhi-
bited some symptoms of relenting, but having consulted with Mait-
land, he returned and gave them a very unpleasant answer. This
being reported to Knox, he was much grieved, and said, that he had
been very earnest in prayer for that man, and he still trusted that his
soul would be saved, although his body should come to a miserable
end.
After this interview with the session, he was much worse ; his
difficulty of breathing increased, and he could not speak without
obvious and great pain. Yet he continued still to receive persons
of every rank, w^ho came, in great numbers, to visit him, and he
suffered none to go away without exhortations, which he uttered with
such variety and suitableness as astonished those who waited upon
him. Lord Boyd came in and said, " I know, Sir, that I have
offended you in many things, and am now come to crave your
pardon." His answer was not heard, as the attendants retired and
left them alone. But his lordship returned next day, in company
with the earl of Morton and the laird of Drumlanrig. His conver-
sation with Morton was very particular, as related by the earl
himself before his death. He asked him, if he was previously
acquainted with the design to murder the late king. Morton
having answered in the negative, he said, " Well, God has beauti-
fied you with many benefits which he has not given to every man ;
as he has given you riches, wisdom, and friends, and now is to
prefer you to the government of the realm. And therefore, in the
name of God, I charge you to all these benefits aright, and better in
time to come than ye have done in times bypast ; first, to God's
glory, to the furtherance of the evangel, the maintenance of the
church of God, and his ministry ; next for the weal of the king, and
his realm, and true subjects. If so ye shall do, God shall bless you,
and honour you ; but if ye do it not, God shall spoil you of these
benefits, and your end shall be ignominy and shame."
On Thursday, the 20th, lord Lindsay, the bishop of Caithness, and
several gentlemen visited him. He exhorted them to continue in
the truth which they had heard, for there was no other word of sal-
vation, and besought them to have nothing to do with those in the
castle. The earl of Glencairn (who had often visited him), came in,
with lord Kuthven. The latter, who called only once, said, " K
there be anything. Sir, that I am able to do for you, I pray you
charge me." His reply was, " I care not for all the pleasm-e and
friendship of the world."
A religious lady of his acquaintance desired him to praise God for
what good he had done, and was beginning to speak in his commen-
dation, when he interrupted her. " Tongue, tongue, lady, flesh of
190 SCOTS WORTHIES.
itself is over proud, and needs no means to esteem itself." lie put
her in mind of what had been said to her long ago, " Lady, lady, the
black one has never trampit on your fute," and exhorted her to lay
aside j)ride, and be clothed with humility. He then protested as to
himself, as he had often done before, that he relied wholly on the
free mercy of God, manifested to mankind through his dear Son
Jesus Christ, whom alone he embraced for wisdom, and righteous-
ness, and sanctification, and redemption. The rest of the company
having taken their leave of him, he said to the laird of Braid,
" Every one bids me good night, but when will you do it? I have
been greatly indebted unto you, for which I shall never be able to
recompense you ; but I commit you to one that is able to do it, to the
eternal God."
Upon Friday, the 21st, he desired Richard Bannatyne to order his
coffin to be made. During that day he was much engaged in medi-
tation and prayer. These words were often in his mouth : " Come,
Lord Jesus. Sweet Jesus, into thy hands I commend my spirit. Be
merciful. Lord, to thy church which thou hast redeemed. Give
peace to this afflicted commonwealth. Eaise up faithful pastors
who will take the charge of thy church. Grant us. Lord, the perfect
hatred of sin, both by the evidences of thy wrath and mercy." In
the midst of his meditations, he would often address those who stood
by, in such sentences as these : — " O serve the Lord in fear, and
death shall not be terrible to you. ]^ay, blessed shall death be to
those who have felt the power of the death of the only begotten Son
of God."
On Sabbath 23d, (which was the first day of the national fast,)
during the afternoon sermon, he, after lying a considerable time
quiet, suddenly exclaimed, " If any be present, let them come and
see the work of God. Richard Bannatyne thinking that his death
was at hand, sent to the church for Johnston of Elphingston. When
they came to his bed-side, he buret out in these rapturous expres-
sions : " I have been these two last nights in meditation on the trou-
bled state of the church of God, the spouse of Jesus Christ, de-
spised of the world, but precious in the sight of God. I have
called to God for her, and have committed her to her head, Jesus
Christ. I have fought against spiritual wickedness in heavenly
things, and have prevailed. I have been in heaven, and have
possession. I have tasted of the heavenly joys, where presently I
am." He then repeated the Lord's prayer and creed, interjecting
some devout aspiration at the end of every petition, and article.
After sermon many came in to visit him. Perceiving that he
breathed with great difficulty, some of them asked, if he felt much
pain. He answered that he was willing to lie there for years, if
God so pleased, and if he continued to shine upon his soul, through
Jesus Christ. When they thought him asleep, he was employed
in meditation, and at intervals exhorted and prayed. " Live in
Christ. Live in Christ, and then flesh need not fear death. Lord,
grant true pastors to thy church, that purity of doctrine may be
retained. Restore peace again to this commonwealth, with godly
rulers and magl»^*-»'ate8. Once, Lord, make an end of my trouble."
JOHN KNOX. 191
Stretching his hands toward heaven, he said, " Lord, I commend my
spirit, soul, and body, and all, into thy hands. Thou knowest,
O Lord, my troubles : I do not murmur against thee." His pious
ejaculations were so numerous, that those who waited on him could
recollect only a part of them, for seldom was he silent, when they
were not employed in reading or in prayer. — During the course of
that night his trouble greatly increased.
Monday, the 24th of November, was the last day that he spent
on earth. That morning he would not be persuaded to lie in bed,
but, though unable to stand alone, rose between nine and ten o'clock,
and put on his stockings and doublet. Being conducted to a chair,
he sat about half an hour, and then went to bed again. In the
progress of the day, it appeared evident that his end drew near.
Besides his wdfe and Richard Bannatyne, Campbell of Kinzean-
cleugh, Johnston of Elphingston, and Dr. Preston, three of his
most intimate acquaintances, waited by his bed-side. Mr. Campbell
asked him if he had any pain. " It is no painful pain, but such
as shall, I trust, put an end to the battle. I must leave the care
of my wife and children to you," continued he, " to whom you
must be a husband in my room." About three o'clock in the after-
noon, one of his eyes failed, and his speech was considerably affect-
ed. He desired his wife to read the 15th cliapter of 1st Corinthians.
" Is not that a comfortable chapter?" said he, when it was finished.
" O, what sweet and salutary consolation the Lord hath afforded me
from that chapter I" A little after, he said, " Kow, for the last
time, I commend my soul, spirit, and body," touching three of his
fingers, " into thy hand, O Lord." About five o'clock he said to
his wife, " Go read where I cast my first anchor ;" upon w^hich she
read the 17th chapter of John's gospel, and afterwards a part of
Calvin's sermons on the Ephesians.
After this he appeared to fall into a slumber, during which he
uttered heavy groans. The attendants looked every moment for his
dissolution. At length he awaked as if from sleep, and being
asked the cause of his sighing so deeply, replied, " I have formerly,
during my frail life, sustained many contests, and many assaults
of Satan ; but at present that roaring lion has assailed me most
I furiously, and put forth all his strength to devour, and make an
I end of me at once. Often before has he placed my sins before
I my eyes, often tempted me to despair, often endeavoured to en-
I snare me by the allurements of the world ; but with these wea-
I pons, broken by the sword of the Spirit, the word of God,
! lie could not prevail. Now he has attacked me in another w\iy ;
I the cunning serpent has laboured to persuade me that I have
i merited heaven and eternal blessedness, by the faithful discharge
! of my ministry. But blessed be God w4io has enabled me to beat
1 down and quench this fiery dart, by suggesting to me such passages
of scripture as these : What hast thou that thou hast not received ?
By the grace of God I am what I am : Not I, but the grace of God
j in me. Being thus vanquished, he left me. Wherefore I give
' thanks to my God through Jesus Christ, who was pleased to give
^ le the victory; and I am persuaded that the tempter shall not
192 SCOTS WORTHIES.
again attaclc me, but, within a short time, I shall, without any great
bodily pain, or anguish of mind, exchange this mortal and miser-
able life, for a blessed immortality through Jesus Clirist.'
He then lay quiet for some hours, except that now and then he
desired them to wet his mouth witli a little weak ale. At ten o'clock
they read the evening prayer, which they had delayed beyond their
usual hour, from an apprehension that he was asleep. After they
concluded. Dr. Preston asked him, if he had heard the prayers.
" Would to God," said he, " that you and all men had heard them as
I have heard them : I praise God for that heavenly sound." The
doctor rose up, and Mr. Campbell sat down before the bed. About
eleven o'clock, he gave a deep sigh, and said, " Now it is come."
Richard Bannatyne immediately drew near, and desired him to
think upon those comfortable promises of our Saviour Jesus Christ,
which ne had so often declared to others ; and, perceiving that he
was speechless, requested him to give them a sign that he heai'd
them, and died in peace. Upon this he lifted up one of his hands,
and sighing twice, expired without a struggle.
He died in the sixty-seventh year of his age, not so much op-
pressed with years, as worn out and exhausted by his extraordinary
labours of body and anxieties of mind. Few men ever were ex-
posed to more dangers, or underwent such hardships. From the
time that he embraced the reformed religion, till he breathed his
last, seldom did he enjoy a respite from these, and he emerged from
one scene of difficulties, only to be involved in another, and a more
distressing one. Obliged to flee from St. Andrew's to escape the
fury of cardinal Beaton, he found a retreat in East Lothian, from
which he was hunted by archbishop Hamilton. He lived for
several years an outlaw, in daily apprehension of falling a prey to
those who eagerly sought his life. The few months during which
he enjoyed protection in the castle of St. Andrew's were succeeded
by a long and rigorous captivit3\ After enjoying some repose in
England, he was again driven into banishment, and for five years
wandered as an exile on the continent. When he returned to his
native country, it was to engage in a struggle of the most perilous
and arduous kind. After the reformation was established, and he
was settled in the capital, he was involved in a continual contest
with the court. When he had retired from warfare, and thought
onlv of ending his days in peace, he was again called into the field ;
and, although scarcely able to walk, was obliged to remove from his
flock, and to avoid the hatred of his enemies, by submitting to a
new banishment. Often had his life been threatened ; a price was
publicly set upon his head ; and persons were not wanting who
were disposed to attempt his destruction. Ko wonder that he was
weary of the world, and anxious to depart. With great propriety
mi^ht it be said, at his decease, that he rested from his labours.
On Wednesday the 26th of November, he was interred in the
churchyard of St. Giles. His funeral was attended by the newly
elected regent, Morton, the nobility who were in the city, and a
great concourse of people. When his body was laid in the grave,
JOHN KNOX. 193
the regent pronounced his euloguim, in the well-known words,
" There lies he, who never feared the face of man."
Our reformer left behind him a widow, and five children. His
two sons, Nathanael and Eleazar, were born to him by his first wife,
Mrs. Marjory Bowes. We have already seen that, about the year
1566, they went to England, where their mother's relations resided.
They received their education at St. John's college, in the univer-
sity of Cambridge, and after finishing it, died in the prime of life.
It appears that they died without issue, and the family of the re
former became extinct in the male line. His other three children
were daughters by his second wife. Dame Margaret Stewart, his
widow, afterwards married Sir Andrew Ker of Fadounside, a
strenuous supporter of the reformation. One of his daughters was
married to Mr. Robert Pont, minister of St. Cuthbert's ; another of
them to Mr. James Fleming, also a minister of the church of Scot-
land ; Elizabeth, the third daughter, was married to Mr. John
Welch, minister of Ayr.
13
194 SCX)TS WORTHIES.
GEORGE BUCHANAN,
George Buchanan was born about the beginning of February, in the
year 1506. His father was Thomas, the second son of Thomas Buchanan
of Drummikill, his mother Agnes Heriot, of the family of Trabroun.
The house from which he descended, he has himself characterized as
more remarkable for its antiquity, than for its opulence. The only
patrimony which his father inherited, was the farm of Mid-Leowen,
or, as it is more commonly denominated, the Moss, situated in the
parish of Killeam and county of Stirling. The farm-house in which
Buchanan was born, has twice been rebuilt ; but on each occasion,
its original dimensions and characteristics have been studiously
preserved, and an oak beam, together with an intermediate wall, has
even retained its ancient position. The present building, which may
be considered as a correct model of Buchanan's paternal residence,
is a lowly cottage thatched with straw ; but this cottage is still visited
with a kind of religious veneration. A fragment of the oak is
regarded ,i$^ a precious relic ; and an Irish student, who thirsted for a
portion of Buchanan's inspiration, is known to have travelled from
Glasgow, for the purpose of visiting the house, and passing a night
directly under the original beam.
Buchanan's father died at a premature age ; and, about the same
period, his grandfather found himself in a state of insolvency. The
family, which had never been opulent, was thus reduced to extreme
poverty; but his mother struggled hard with the misery of her
condition ; and all her children, five sons and three daughters,
arrived at the age of maturity. The third son, whose extraordinary
attainments have rendered the family illustrious, is reported by oral
tradition, which must not however be too rashly credited, to have
been indebted for the rudiments of learning to the public school of
Killearn, which long continued to maintain a very considerable
degree of celebrity. Mid-Leowen, which stands on the banks of the
Blane, is situated at the distance of about two miles from the village ;
and it may be conjectured that the future poet and statesman daily
walked to school, and bore along with him his meridian repast. A
considerable number of trees, which he is said to have planted in his
school-boy days, are still to be seen in the immediate vicinity of his
native cottage: one of which, a mountain ash, conspicuous for its
magnitude, was lately torn from its roots by the violence of a storm ;
but two fresh scions which arose from its ruins, have been nourished
snd protected with anxious care. Nor is the name of his mother
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 195
without its rural memorial ; a place which had been adapted to the
purpose of shielding her flock, is still denominated Heriot's Shiels.
Buchanan was afterwards removed to the school of Dumbarton.
His unfolding genius recommended him to the favour and protection
of his maternal uncle James Heriot, who, in the year 1520, sent him
to prosecute his studies in the university of Paris. It w^as here that
he began to cultivate his poetical talents ; partly impelled, as he
informs us, by the natural temperament of his mind, partly by the
necessity of performing the usual exercises prescribed to younger
students. Buchanan did not profess to be one of those bright
geniuses wdio can acquire a new language every six weeks, — he
incidentally suggests that his knowlegde of Latin was the result of
much juvenile labour. The Greek tongue, in which he likewise
attained to proflciency, h^ acquired without the aid of a preceptor.
Within the space of two years after his arrival at Paris, his uncle
died, and left him exposed to want in a foreign country. His misery
was increased by a violent distemper, which had perhaps been
occasioned by poverty and mortification. In this state of hopeless
langour, he returned to Scotland at the critical age of sixteen.
Having devoted the best part of a year to the care of his health,
he next assumed the character of a soldier, and served along with
the auxiliaries whom the duke of Albany had conducted from
France, and he marched with them against England in the end of
the year 1523. This fruitless expedition terminated in an attack on
the castle of Werk, from which they were repulsed and compelled
to retreat ; and repassed the Tweed, towards Lauder, during mid-
nigh t, in the midst of a severe snow storm. His experience in the course
of this campaign, did not render him more enamoured of a military
life; the hardships which he had undergone reduced him to his
former state of languor, and during the rest of the winter he was
confined to bed.
In the beginning of the ensuing spring, when he had completed
the eighteenth year of his age, he was sent to the university of St.
Andrew's. Patrick Buchanan, his eldest brother, was matriculated
at the same time. On the third of October, 1525, George Buchanan
received the degree of bachelor of arts ; and it appears from the
faculty register that he was then a pauper^ or exhibitioner. At this
period the famous John Mair taught logic in St. Salvador's college.
Buchanan informs us that it was to attend his prelections that he
had been sent to St. Andrew's, and that he afterwards followed Mair
to France.
Upon his return to France, he became a student in the Scottish.
<jollege of Paris. On the 10th of October, 1527, he was incorpora-
ted a bachelor of arts, and he received the higher degree next March.
During the following year, 1529, he was a candidate for the ofiice of
procurator of the German nation ; but his blind compatriot, Robert
Wauchope, afterwards archbishop of Armagh, was elected for the
ninth time. Buchanan was thus repulsed on the 5th of May, but on
the 3d of June he was more successful. The university of Paris
being frequented by students from various countries, they were dis-
106 SCOTS WORTHIES.
tributed into four classes or nations. What was termed the German
nation comprehended the Scottish academics.
At this period, the principles of the lleformation had begun to be
widely disseminated, and were eagerly discussed on the continent.
Buchanan, on his return to Paris, was caught by the spreading flame.
His Lutheranism seems to have exposed him to new mortifications ;
for, after lie had discovered his attachment, he continued for the
space of nearly two years to struggle with adverse fortune. At the
expiration of tliat term, he was appointed a regent or professor in the
college of St. Barbe, where he taught grammar for about three years.
Notwithstanding his eminent qualifications for such a situation, his
services seem to have procured him very inadequate remuneration ;
but still he rej^resents his situation as comparatively comfortable
when contrasted with the miseries Parisian professors of humanity
were then exposed to. At the time that he entered on the duties at
St. Barbe, he was twenty -three years of age.
About this time, Gilbert Kennedy, earl of Cassilis, who was resid-
ing near the college of St. Barbe, having become acquainted with
Buchanan, admired his literary talents, and was delighted with his
conversation. He therefore retained him as preceptor. The first
work that Buchanan committed to the press, was a translation of the
famous Thomas Linacre's rudiments of Latin grammar, which he
inscribed to lord Cassilis, " a youth of the most promising talents, and
of an excellent disposition." This Latin version was printed by R.
Stephanus, in 1533.
After he had resided with his pupil for the term of five years,
they both returned to Scotland. While he was residing at the earPs
seat in the country, he composed a short poem, which rendered him
extremely obnoxious to the ecclesiastics, an order of men whom it
is generally hazardous to provoke. He expresses his own abhorrence
of a monastic life, and stigmatizes the impudence and hypocrisy of
the monks, particularly those of the order of St. Francis. The holy
fathers, when they became acquainted with this specimen of his sar-
castic wit, speedily forgot their professions of meekness, and resolved
to convince him of his heterodox presumption in disparaging the
sacred institutions of the church.
Buchanan had determined to resume his former occupations in
France ; but king James Y. retained him in the capacity of precep-
tor to one of his natural sons. This son was not, as has generally
been supposed, the celebrated James Stuart, who afterwards obtained
the regency, but another who bore the same baptismal name.
But he soon experienced the danger of extending his ridicule to
the orthodox. The preferment of a profane scoffer at priests must
have augmented their spleen ; and the Franciscan friars, still smarting
from his Somnium^ found means of representing him to the king as
a man of depraved morals, and of dubious faith. But on this occa-
sion their zeal recoiled upon themselves. By comparing the humility
of their professions with the arrogance of their deportment, James
had formerly begun to discover their genuine character ; and the
part which he supposed them to have acted in a late conspiracy
against his own life, had not contributed to diminish his antipathy.
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 397
Instead of consigning the poet to disgrace or punishment, the king,
who was aware that private resentment would improve the edge of
his satire, enjoined him, in the presence of many courtiers, to renew
his well-directed attack on tlie same pious fathers.
Buchanan's late experience, however, had taught him the impor-
tance of caution ; he determined at once to gratify the king, and to
avoid increasing the resentment of the friars against himself. In
pursuance of this, he composed a kind of recantation, which lie sup-
posed might delude the Franciscans by its ambiguity of phrase.
But he found himself doubly deceived : the indignation of the king,
who was himself a satirical poet, could not so easily be gratified ;
and the friars were now impelled to a higher pitch of resentment.
James requested him to compose another satire, which should exhibit
their vices in a more glaring light. The subject was copious, and
well adapted to the poet's talents and views. He accordingly ap-
plied himself to the composition of the poem afterwards published
under the title of FrancisGanus — the Franciscan ; and to satisfy the
king's impatience, soon presented him with a specimen. This pro-
duction, as it now appears in its finished state, may without hazard
be pronounced the most skilful and pungent satire, which any nation
or language can exhibit. He has not servilely adhered to the model
of any ancient poet, but is himself original and unequalled. To a
masterly command of classical phraseology, he unites uncommon
felicity of versification ; and his diction often rises with his increas-
ing indignation, to majesty and splendour. The combinations of his
wit are variegated and original ; and he evinces himself a most
sagacious observer of human life. Ko class of men was ever more
completly exposed to ridicule and infamy ; nor is it astonishing that
the popish clergy afterwards regarded the author with implacable
hatred. Of the validity of his poetical accusations, many historical
documents still remain. Buchanan has himself related in plain
prose, that about this period some of the Scottish ecclesiastics were
80 deplorably ignorant, as to suppose Martin Luther to be the author
of a dangerous book called the New Testament.
But the church being infallible, he speedily recognised the hazard
of accosting its retainers by their proper names. At the commence-
ment of the year 1539, many individuals suspected of reformed
principles were involved in the horrible scenes of persecution.
Towards the close of February, five were committed to the flames ;
nine made a formal recantation of their supposed errors, and many
were driven into exile. Buchanan had been comprehended in the
general arrest. After he was committed to custody, cardinal Beaton
endeavoured to accelerate his doom, by tendering to the king a sum
of money as the price of his innocent blood. Of this circumstance
Buchanan was apprized by some of his friends at court ; and his
knowledge of the king's unfortunate propensity to avarice, must have
augmented all the horrors of his situation. Stimulated by the
thoughts of increasing danger, he made a successful effort to regain
his liberty : while his keepers were fast asleep, he escaped through
the window of the apartment in which he was confined. Directing
his steps toward the south, he had soon to encounter new disasters.
198 SCOTS WORTHIES.
"When he reached the borders, he was molested by robbers ; and his
life was exposed to jeopardy from the contagion of a pestilential
disease, which then raged in the north of England ; but he escaped
both perils, and reached London in safety.
On his arrival in London, he experienced the friendship of Sir
John Rainsford, who protected him against the fury of the papists.
Of this generous protection, Buchanan was not afterwards unmindful :
he has immortalized his benefactor by consecrating a poem to his
memory. He remained but a short time in London, as he could not
find any patrons ; and the aspect of political affairs in England was
not calculated to secure Buchanan's attachment to that nation : — he
was anxious to escape from a country which he saw exposed to the
wanton cruelties of a brutal tyrant. The civilization of France, as
well as the particular intimacies which he had formed in that
country, led him to adopt the resolution of returning to Paris. But
he found on his arrival [1539] that cardinal Beaton was residing
there in the character of an ambassador. Andrew Govean, a native
of Portugal, invited him to Bourdeaux ; nor did he hesitate to
embrace an opportunity of removing himself beyond the influence
of the cardinal's deadly hatred. Of the college of Guienne, lately
founded in that city, Govean had been nominated principal ; and
Buchanan evidently through his interest, was now appointed one of
the professors. Here he must have fixed his residence before
the close of the year ; for, to Charles Y., who made his solemn entry
into Bourdeaux on the first of December, 1539, he presented a poem
in the name of the college.
The task assigned him at Bourdeaux, was that of teaching the
Latin language. For an occupation of this kind, he seems to have
entertained no particular affection ; but, although sufficiently labori-
ous, it never impaired the native elevation of his mind. He now
prosecuted his poetical studies with a degree of ardour which may
excite admiration ; during the three years of his residence at
Bourdeaux, he completed four tragedies, together with various other
poems on miscellaneous subjects. It was then, and indeed at a
much later period, the common practice of academical students
to exercise themselves in the representation of Latin dramas. In
dramatic poetry, the taste of the French nation was still rude and
grotesque ; for they had not begun to extricate themselves from the
absurdities of the early mysteries and allegories. With the view of
familiarizing the youths to the more correct and elegant models of
the ancient theatre, Buchanan, with his usual intrepidity, made a
sudden incursion into this province of literature. The earliest of his
dramatic compositions bears the title of Baptistes — the Baptist. He
had, at a former period, applied himself to the study of the Greek
language, without the aid of a tutor, and as a useful exercise had
then executed a close translation of the Medea of Euripides. He
now delivered a poetical version to the academical stage, and
afterwards, at the earnest request of his friends, suffered it to be
printed. These two tragedies were performed with a degree of
applause which exceeded his hopes. He afterwards wrote Jephthes^
and translated Alo^tes^ another tragedy from Euripides. These last
GEORGE BUCHANAN.
199.
productions, as he intended them for publication, appear to have
been written with superior diligence, when we consider the labours
of his professional duties, and the distractions produced by the
unwearied enmity of cardinal Beaton, and the Franciscans, who still
threatened his life. Cardinal Beaton had, in a letter addressed to
the archbishop of Bourdeaux, requested him to secure the person of
the heretical poet ; but this letter having been intrusted to the care
of some individual much interested in the welfare of Buchanan, he
was suffered to remain without molestation. The appearance of a
dreadful plague in Guienne for some time occupied their attention ;
and the death of king James [1542], opening for the ambition of the
cardinal a field for political intrigue at home, rescued Buchanan from
farther fear of persecution.
The Ba-ptistes^ although inferior to the other tragedy in dramatic
interest, is more strongly impregnated with the author's characteristic
sentiments. Its great theme is civil and religious liberty. The poet
frequently expresses himself with astonishing boldness ; his language
relative to tyranny and priestcraft is so strong and undisguised, that
it could not then have been tolerated in many colleges.
His translations from Euripides must have contributed, as well as
his original compositions, to revive the genius of the ancient drama.
These versions are executed w^ith no inconsiderable felicity. The
diction of Alcestes surpasses that of Medea; yet to his learned
contemporaries the last appeared so highly classical, that strong
suspicions were entertained of his having published in his own name
some ancient manuscript.
The excellence of the teachers, and the assiduity of the scholars,
soon rendered the college of Guienne one of the most distinguished
schools in France. In the learned dramas represented in the
college, the well-known Michel de Montague was a frequent
performer.
Buchanan's attention to the interests of elegant and useful learning
"Vv^as unremitting, In a Sapphic ode addressed to the youth of Bour-
deaux, he reminds them of ttie dignity and importance of the liberal
arts, and particularly of that art which he had himself cultivated
with such success. The exertions of such a preceptor could not fail
of improving the taste of his pupils ; but the splendour of his poetry
seems to have conferred upon the college a substantial benefit of
another kind. This seminary was more remarkable for the learning
of its members, than for the amplitude of its endowments. The
penury of their provision was so sensibly felt, that Buchanan, at the
suggestion of his colleagues, addressed a poetical representation to
Francis Olivier, chancellor of France, which had the desired eftect.
Buchanan afterwards inscribed to the chancellor an elegant ode in
which he commemorates his liberality and promptitude in amelio-
rating their condition.
Buchanan's social intercourse was not confined to the college and
the city; it was at this period that he occasionally enjoyed the
society'of a very extraordinary personage, who resided at a consider-
able distance. At Agen, the elder Scaliger was now exercising the
"rofession of a physician. That city, when he there fixed his resi-
200 SCOTS WORTfflES.
dence, could not furnish him with a single individual capable of
supporting literary conversation ; and he was therefore led to culti-
vate an intimacy with some of the more enlightened inhabitants of
Bourdeaux. Buchanan, Tevius, and other accomplished scholars
who then belonged to the college of Guienne, were accustomed to
pay him an annual visit during the vacation. They were hospitably
entertained in his house, and he declared that he forgot the torture
of his gout whenever he had an opportunity of discussing topics of
learning with such guests. The younger Scaliger, more illustrious
than his father, inherited his high admiration of the Scottish poet.
To Buchanan he awarded a decided superiority over all the Latin
poets of those times:
Having resided three years at Bourdeaux, he afterwards removed
to Paris. In 1544, he was officiating as a regent in the college of
cardinal Le Maire, which he retained till 1547. About the former
of these periods, he was miserably tormented with the gout, and
acknowledges the medical aid he had received from Carolus Stepha-
nus, a doctor of physic, of the faculty of Paris; who, like many of
his relations, was equally distinguished as a scholar and as a
printer.
In the college of cardinal Le Maire, Buchanan was associated with
colleagues worthy of himself; viz., Turnebus and Muretus, two of
the most eminent scholars of modern times ; and it has been remark-
ed that three of the most learned men in the world then taught
humanity in the same college. The first class being taught by Tur-
nebus, the second by Buchanan, and the third by Muretus.
John HI., king of Portugal, having founded the university of
Coimbra ; and, as his own dominions could not readily supply com-
petent professors, he invited Andrew Govean to accept the princi-
pality, and to conduct from France a considerable number of pro-
ficients in philosophy and ancient literature. Govean accordingly
returned to his native country in the year 1547, accompanied by
Buchanan and other associates. The affairs of Europe then present-
ed an alarming aspect ; and Portugal seemed to be almost the only
corner free from tumults. To the proposals of Govean he had not
only lent a prompt ear, but was so much satisfied with the character
of his associates, that he also persuaded his brother Patrick to join
this famous colony. To several of its members he had formerly been
attached by the strictest ties of friendship, and all had distinguished
themselves by the publication of learned works.
The happiness which Buchanan had promised himself with asso-
ciates so congenial to his taste, soon came to-an end, by the death of
Govean, which took place in the year 1548. During the lifetime of
this worthy man, Buchanan and his associates had found their situa-
tion at Coimbra sufficiently agreeable ; but after they were deprived
of his protection, the Portuguese began to persecute them with unre-
lenting bigotry. The harmless professors were at first assailed by the
secret weapons of calumny ; and in due time were loudly accused
of imaginary crimes. Three of their number were thrown into the
dungeons of the inquisition, and after having been subjected to a
tedious and loathsome imprisonment, were at length arraigned at the
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 201
infernal tribunal. According to the usual practice, they were not
confronted with their accusers, of whose very names they were igno-
rant. As they could not be convicted of any crime, they were over-
whelmed with reproaches, and again committed to custody.
Buchanan's superior genius attracted an unusual degree of indig-
nation. He was accused of having written an impious poem against
the Franciscans ; yet with the nature of tliat poem the inquisitors
were totally unacquainted. The only copy which he had ever
parted with was presented to his native sovereign, James Y., and
before he left France, he had even adopted the precaution of
having the circumstances of its composition properly explained to
the Portuguese monarch. He was also charged with having eaten
flesh in Lent, though the practice was universal in Portugal. He
was, moreover, accused of having alleged, in a conversation with
some young Portuguese, that with respect to the eucharist, St.
Angus tin appeared to him to be strongly inclined towards the opin-
ion condemned by the church of Eome. Two witnesses, whom he
afterwards discovered to be Joannes Ferrerius, a Piedmontese, who
had visited Scotland, and resided at Kinloss, author of a continuation
of Boece's History of Scotland, and Jean Tulpin, a doctor of theolo-
fy, and a native of Kormandy, made a formal deposition of their
aving been assured by several respectable informants, that Bucha-
nan was disaffected to the Romish faith.
After the inquisitors had harassed Buchanan and themselves for
the space of nearly a year and a half, in order to justify their pro-
ceedings against a scholar of such celebrity, they sentenced him to
be confined to a monastery for some months, for the purpose of being
thoroughly instructed by the monks ; men by no means destitute of
humanity or abandoned in morals, but totally unacquainted with
religion. In this confinement he consoled himself with that unrival-
led paraphrase of the Psalms of David, which placed him first among
modern Latin poets, and will continue to be read with delight as
long as the language in which they are written is understood.
Buchanan was at length restored to liberty, and apparently with
testimonials in his favour from the monks; for when he solicited
permission of the king to return to France, he was by him requested
to remain in Portugal ; and was presented with a small sum of
money till he should be promoted to some station worthy of his
talents.
Buchanan found that his prospect of being promoted by the Por-
tuguese monarch was somewhat precarious ; and he therefore deter-
mined to abandon a country in which he had experienced such un-
worthy treatment. Having embarked in a Candian vessel, which he
found in the port of Lisbon, he was safely conveyed to England.
Here, however, he did not long remain ; though fair offers v/ere
made him to induce him to stay. The political affairs of England
bore a very unpromising aspect. A young prince upon the throne,
Edward YI. ; the nobles at variance with one another ; and the
minds of the commons yet in a ferment, on account of their recent
civil commotions [1552] : he arrived in France about the beginning
of the year 1553, at the time the siege of the city of Metz was
202 SCOTS WORTHIES.
raised ; and at the earnest request of his friends, though reluctantly,
he composed a poem on that event, as several other poets of his ac-
quaintance had previously celebrated that achievement.
To the French^ at this period of his life, Buchanan appears to have
been strongly attached ; and they, with their characteristic vanity,
wished to appropriate as their own, a poet, the splendour of whose
reputation shed a glory round the country to which his name was
associated. The warmth of his attachment he expressed in a poem
Adventus in GalUam^ wliich he wrote about this time.
Soon after his return to Paris, he was appointed a regent in the
college of BoMcourt; and in the year 1555, he was called from that
charge by the celebrated marshal Comte de Brissac, who entertained
him as the domestic tutor of his son, Timoleon de Cosse. At that
period the Marshal lu'esided over the French dominions in Italy ;
whither Buchanan was invited to attend his pupil.
Mai-shal de Brissac lived in Italy in a state of princely magnifi-
cence. Though much of his life had been spent amidst the tumults
of war, he appears like the most eminent heroes of antiquity, to have
cultivated the liberal arts amid the din of arms, and in the camp
itself, enjoyed the society of learned men. In the preceptor of his
son, he recognised in Buchanan a man capable of adorning a higher
station; and he accordingly treated him with the utmost respect and
deference. He was even accustomed to place him at the council
board among the principal officers of his army. To this singular
honour Buchanan was not entitled from his actual acquaintance with
the theory or practice of war ; he had recommended himself by the
intuitive sagacity of his comprehensive mind ; and his original
admission arose from a circumstance entirely accidental. He hap-
pened to enter an apartment contiguous to the hall in which the
marshal and his officers were engaged in discussing some measure
of great importance ; and on being arrested by their debates, he
could not refrain from murmuring his disapprobation of the opinion
supported by the majority. One of the generals smiled at so unex-
pected a salutation ; but the marshal having invited Buchanan into
the council, enjoined him to deliver his sentiments without restraint.
He accordingly proceeded to discuss the question with his wonted
perspicacity, and to excite the amazement of Brissac and his officers.
In the issue, his suggestions were found to have been oracular.
Much of Buchanan's time was devoted to the study of theology.
At that era, religious controversy exercised the faculties of a large
proportion of mankind ; and he was likewise anxious to place his
faith on the solid foundation of reason. His poetical studies were not,
however, entirely neglected. It was apparently about this period
that he conceived the design of his philosophical poem, De Sphoera^
wliich his future avocations did not suffer him to draw to a con-
clusion.
His connexion with the family of Brissac terminated in the year
1560, when the flames of civil war had already seized France, and
the friends of civil and religious liberty had triumphed in Scotland.
The precise period of his return has not been ascertained ; but it .
certain that he was at the Scottish court in Januarv. 1 5^'^ ; and that,
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 203
in the month of April, he was officiating as classical tutor to the
queen, who was then in the twentieth year of her age. Every after-
noon she perused with Buchanan a portion of Livy. The condescen-
sions of royalty win upon the most austere, and, aided by the fasci-
nating and elegant manners of a beautiful princess, in the full bloom
and freshness of 3^outh, it was no wonder that his young sovereign
became an object of ardent admiration to Buchanan. This he ex-
pressed in the dedication of the first complete edition of his Psalms,
which must have been soon after Mary arrived in Scotland, and
before she had forfeited the esteem of her friends by her misconduct.
The era at which Buchanan finally returned to his native country
was highly important. After a violent struggle between the old and
the new religion, the latter had at length prevailed ; its doctrines
and discipline received the sanction of parliament in the year 1560.
For the manly principles of the reformation he had always cherish-
ed a secret affection ; and his attachment, as he candidly owns, had
been confirmed bj the personal malignity of the grey friars. As he
now resided in a country where he could avow his sentiments with-
out restraint, he professed himself a member of the reformed church
of Scotland ; and this accession to their cause was duly appreciated
by the leaders of the party. The earl of Moray was then rising
towards that summit of power which he afterwards attained. He
was one of the few Scottish nobles of the age who reverenced litera-
ture, and patronized its professors.
In the year 1564, queen Mary rewarded his literary merit by con-
ferring on him the temporalities of the abbey of Crossraguel ; which
amounted in annual valuation to the sum of five hundred pounds in
Scottish currency. But while he thus enjoyed the favour of the
queen, he did not neglect his powerful friend the earl of Moray.
He prepared for the press his miscellany entitled Fratres Frater-
Timi 'j a collection of satires, almost entirely directed against the
impurities of the popish church. The absurdity of its doctrines, and
the immoral lives of its priests, afforded him an ample field fur the
exercise of his formidable talents ; and he has alternately employed
the weapons of sarcastic irony and vehement indignation. These he
dedicated to the earl of Moray. For Buchanan he soon procured a
station of some dignity and importance : as commendator of the
priory of St. Andrew's, he enjoyed the right of nominating the prin-
cipal of St. Leonard's college ; and a vacancy occurring about the
year 1566, he placed Buchanan at the head of that seminary.
In the year 1567, Buchanan published another collection, consist-
ing of Elegise, Silvse, Hendecasyllabi. From an epistle to his friend
Peter Daniel, prefixed to this publication, it would appear he still
continued in some situation about court : for he says, '' Between the
occupations of a court and the annoyance of disease, I have hardly
been able to steal any portion of time, which I could either devote to
my friends or to myself; and I have therefore been prevented from
maintaining a frequent correspondence with my friends, and from
collecting my poems which lie so widely dispersed. For my own
part, I was not extremely solicitous to recall them from perdition ;
but as some friends, to whom I neither can nor ought to refuse any
204 SCOTS WORTHIES,
request, demanded them with such earnestness, I have employed
some of my leisure hours in collecting a portion, and j^lacing it in a
state of arrangement. With this specimen, which consists of one
book of elegies, another of miscellanies, and a third of hendecasyl-
lables, I, in the mean time present you. When it shall suit your
convenience, I beg you will communicate them to Montaur^, Des
Mesmes, and other philological friends, without whose advice I trust
you will not adopt any measure relative to their publication. *
***** -H-
In my paraphrase of the Psalms, I have corrected many typograph-
ical erroi*s, and have likewise made various alterations : 1 must there-
fore request you to advise Stephanus* not to publish a new edition
without my knowledge. Hitherto I have not found leisure to finish
the second book of my poem De Sphmra ^ and, therefore, I have not
made a transcript of the first ; as soon as the former is completed, I
shall transmit them to you. Salute in my name all our friends at
Orleans, and such others as it may be convenient. Farewell. Edin-
burgh, July the twenty-fourth, 15G6."
While he presided over St. Leonard's college, he appears to have
enjoyed the esteem and confidence of the university. In 1566, and
the two ensuing years, he was one of the four electors of the rector ;
and was nominated a prorector by each of the three ofiicers who
were successively chosen. For several years, he was likewise dean
of faculty. In the general assemblies of the national church,
convened at Edinburgh, during the years 1563 to 1567, he had the
honour of a seat as a " doctor," and was a constant member of its
most important committees. In this last year he was chosen mode-
rator.
He was now called from the calm pursuits of the scholar, poet,
and theologian, to mingle in the arena of civil politics. After the
defeat of the queen at Langside, in an evil hour she sought refuge in
England, where the regent was forced by circumstances to undertake
the ungracious task of appearing as the accuser of his sister and
sovereign ; and in the performance of this painful duty he was
assisted by Buchanan, who attended him to the conference at York
and Westminster, 1568-9, and drew up in Latin "A Detection of
the Doings of Mary Queen of Scots," which was extensively circu-
lated by the English court. Buchanan received much undeserved
reproach, by the appearance at this time, of another Latin treatise on
the same subject, " Actio contra Mariam Scotorum Reginam,"
which was attributed to him, but was written by a Sir Thomas
Smith, a satellite of queen Elizabeth, and annexed, in Italic print,
to the " Detection" published in London, in 1571.
The "Detection," as originally written by Buchanan, was a
concise historical deduction of facts, preceding the marriage with
Bothwell, such as was absolutely necessary for miderstanding the
subject, and vindicating the proceedings of the nobles ; written with
chaste and classical precision — keen but not virulent. But the
Action against Mary is a dull declamation, and a malignant invec-
* The celebrated printer in Paris.
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 205
tive, written in professed imitation of the ancient orators, whom
Buchanan has never imitated.
Soon after the assassination of the regent, Buclianan was removed
to a situation of no inconsiderable importance ; he was appointed
one of the preceptors of the young king. The prince had been com-
mitted during his infancy to the charge of the earl of Mar, a noble-
man of the most unblemished integrity. In 1570, when Buchanan
entered upon his office, he was only four years of age. The precep-
tors associated with Buchanan were Peter Young, and the two abbots
of Cambuskenneth and Dryburgh, David and Adam Erskine, both
related to the noble family of Mar.
Buchanan, during the regency of Moray, appears to have been a
director of the chancery; which he seems to have retained but a
short while, and probably resigned on being appointed lord privy
seal, under the regent Lennox, in 1570. His situation as lord privy
seal was undoubtedly honourable, and probably lucrative. It entitled
him to a seat in parliament, in whose proceedings he took an active
part, and was appointed a commissioner on several important occa-
sions. In 1578, he formed one of a commission, including many of
the most illustrious for rank or talent in Scotland, appointed to
examine and digest the laws of the land ; but which was never
carried into execution. He was included also, in two commissions
respecting education — the one for supplying a proper Latin grammar,
to be substituted by authority in all the schools — the other to inspect
and reform the universities and colleges within the realm ; to
displace unqualified teachers, and to provide persons more compe-
tent in their room. Besides these commissions, he was associated
in one for examining a " Book of the Policy of the Kirk."
During the time that Morton was displaced from the office of
regent for his aggrandizing schemes, Buchanan was associated with
other officers of the state, appointed by the privy counsel to advise
and direct the young monarch — an office which soon became unneces-
sary by the return to power of the earl of Morton. But amidst all
these numerous avocations, his whole soul seems to have been
intensely bent on forming in the mind of his royal pupil, those prin-
ciples which alone elevate the character, and secure the happiness of
a first magistrate in a free state.
Having prepared his tragedy of Ba^tistes for the press, he dedi-
cated it to the young king in the year 1576. The dedication is
written in such a strain as seldom meets the royal ear. It is like a
solemn prophetical admonition, in which his venerable preceptor
frees himself from any blame which might arise from the conse-
quences of his pupil's misconduct ; and with an anxiety but too
well grounded, warns him against forsaking the instructions of his
youth.
" This circumstance," says he, " may seem to bear a more peculiar
reference to you, that it clearly discloses the punishment of tyrants,
and the misery which awaits them even when their prosperity seems
at the height. That you should now acquire such knowledge, 1
consider as not only expedient, but even necessary, in order that you
may early begin to hate what you ought even to shun. I thereto^'*
206 SCOTS WORTHIES.
wish this work to remain as a witness to posterity, that if impelled
by evil counsellors, or suffering the licentiousness of royalty to
prevail over a virtuous education, you should hereafter be guilty of
any improper conduct, the fault may be imputed, not to your
preceptors, but to you who have not obeyed their salutary admo-
nitions."
In similar language, and with increasing anxiety, as if " age had
imparted its mystical lore," three years afterwards, he inscribed to
him the most important of all his writings, except his History, the
treatise, De Jure Begni ajpud Scotos. *' I have deemed," says the
venerable teacher, " this publication expedient, that it may at once
testify my zeal for your service, and admonish you of your duty to
the community." Then after some compliments to his docility, he
adds, "yet am I compelled to entertain some slight degree of
suspicion, lest evil communication, the alluring nurse of the vices,
should lend an unhappy impulse to your still tender mind ; especially
as I am not ignorant with what facility the external senses yield to
seduction. I have therefore sent you this treatise, not only as an
advice, but even as an importunate, and sometimes impudent
exhorter, to direct you at this critical period of life, safely past the
dangerous rocks of adulation ; not merely to point out the path, but
to keep you in it ; and if you should deviate, to reprove and reclaim
your wanderings, which monitor, if you obey, you will ensure
tranquillity to yourself and your family, and transmit your glory to
the most remote posterity."
This treatise, originally written as a defence of the friends of
freedom, with regard to their treatment of the queen, does not enter
n^^on the discussion of a merely local question, as to her participation
in the murder of her husband, and her liability to punishment ; but
considers in all its bearings the broad but delicate question of
allegiance, and has in view to show, that a good government alone
has a right to support, and that a bad one ought to be resisted. At
the time of its publication it had to combat with the accumulated
prejudices and interests of ages of ignorance and superstition. It
was extensively read on the continent, and had taken too deep root
in the public mind of Europe to be eradicated by the imbecile
attempts of the monarch, to whom it was dedicated, to suppress it.
The verdict of some of the most able writers of our own time, has
assigned it a primary station among the few books in political
science which deserve to be pi^served. " The science," says Sir
James Macintosh, " which teaches the rights of man, the eloquence
that kindles the spirit of freedom, had for ages been buried with the
other monuments of the wisdom, and relics of the genius of antiquity.
But the revival of letters first unlocked, only to a few, the sacred
fountain. The necessary labours of criticism and lexicography
occupied the earlier scholars, and some time elapsed before the spirit
of antiquity was transfused into its admirers. The first man of that
period who united elegant learning to original and masculine thought,
was Buchanan ; and hie, too, seems to have been the first scholar who
caught from the ancients the noble flame of republican enthusiasm.
This praise is merited by his neglected, though incomparable tract,
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 207
De Jure Begn% in which the principles of popular politics, and the
maxims of a free government, are delivered with a precision, and
enforced with an energy, which no former age had equalled, and no
succeeding has surpassed."
Being now advanced to the seventy-fourth year of his age, Buchanan
composed a brief sketch of his own life. To this task he was urged
by some of his numerous friends. This little work is composed with
his usual elegance, and with a degree of modesty and candour worthy
of so illustrious a character. So far as it goes it is followed in its
principal features throughout this memoir.
An instance of his amiable character, at this advanced period of
his life, is mentioned by Thomas Jack, teacher of the Grammar
School of Glasgow, afterwards minister of Eastwood. He waited
upon Buchanan to solicit his revisal of a MS. entitled Onomasticon
Poeticum^ composed in Latin verse. He says, " I found him in the
royal palace of Stirling, diligently engaged in writing his History of
Scotland. He was so far from being displeased with my interruption,
that he cheerfully took my work into his hands, and after continuing
to read two or three pages of it, he collected together his own papers,
which were scattered on the table, and said, ' I will desist from my
undertaking, till I have done what you wish.' This promise he
accurately performed, and within a few days, gave me a paper,
written with his own hand, containing such corrections as he thought
necessary."
His last epistle, addressed to his early friend Beza, exhibits him
in a no less pleasing point of view: — "Although my attention is
divided by various occupations, and the state of my health is so
desperate as to leave me no leisure for the common duties of life, yet
the departure of Jerome Groslot has banished all my excuses. For,
as the father, who was a man of distinction, loaded me during my
residence in France with every species of kindness, and the son has
honoured me here as another parent, I was aware that among you I
could not escape the heavy charge of ingratitude, if I should now
overlook the kindness which I experienced from the one, the pleasant
intercourse which I have enjoyed with the other, and the polite
attention which you have uniformly paid me. Yet among those who
are not unacquainted with my present condition, such a fault would
readily find its apology. It is my best apology, that all my senses
dying before me, what now remains of the image of the former man
testifies, not that I am, but that I have been alive ; especially as I
can neither cherish the hope of contracting new intimacies, nor of
continuing the old. These circumstances I now mention with greater
confidence, as the present occasion affords you an opportunity of
learning my condition from Groslot ; whom it appears superfluous to
recommend to your attention. The dispositions of youth disclose
themselves without our aid. I have however furnished him with a
recommendation, rather to comply with the common practice, than
because it is requisite. Witli^ regard to myself, since I cannot
continue my former mode of life by the reciprocation of friendly
offices, I shall refrain from those exertions to which I have long been
208 SCOTS WORTHIES.
unequal, and indulge in silence. Farewell. Edinburgh, July the
fifteenth, 1581."
The last production whicl\ Buchanan lived to complete was his
History of Scotland. In the year 1582, it issued from the office of
Alexander Arbuthnot, printer to the king. It bears the royal
privilege, and, like other works of the same author, is dedicated to
the young monarch.
In the month of September that year, his learned friends, Andrew
Melville, James Melville, and his own cousin Thomas Buchanan,
provost of the collegiate church of Kirkheugh, having heard that the
work was in the press, and the author indisposed, hastened to
Edinburgh to pay him a final visit. James, who was the nephew of
Andrew Melville, and professor of divinity at St. Andrew's, has in
simple terms recorded the principal circumstances which occurred
during their interview. Upon entering his apartment, they found
the greatest genius of the age employed in the humble though
benevolent task of teaching the horn-book to a young man in his
service. After the usual salutations, " I perceive. Sir," said Andrew
Melville, " you are not idle." " Better this," replied Buchanan,
" than stealing sheep, or sitting idle, which is as bad." He after-
wards showed them his dedication to the young king ; and Melville
having perused it, remarked that it seemed in some passages
obscure, and required certain words to complete the sense. " I can
do nothing more," said Buchanan, " for thinking of another matter."
" What is that?" rejoined Melville.—" To die. But I leave that, and
many other things to your care." Melville likewise alluded to the
publication of Blackwood's answer to his treatise De Jure Regni
apvd Scotos. These visitors, afterwards proceeded to Arbuthnot's
printing-office, to inspect a work which had excited such high expec-
tation. They found the impression had proceeded as far as the
passage relative to the interment of David Kizzio ; and being
alarmed at the unguarded boldness with which the historian had
there expressed himself, they requested the printer to desist.
Having returned to Buchanan's house, they found him in bed. In
anssver to their friendly inquiries, he informed them that he was
•' even going the way of welfare." His kinsman then proceeded to
state their apprehensions respecting the consequence of publishing
so unpalatable a story, and to suggest the probability of its inducing
the king to pi'ohibit the entire work. "Tell me, man," said
Buchanan, "if I have told the truth." "Yes, Sir," replied his
cousin, " I think so." "Then," rejoined the dying historian, "I will
abide his feud, and all his kin's. Pray to God for me, and let him
direct all." And so, subjoins the original narrative, " by the
printing of his chronicle was ended, that most learned, wise, and
godly man, ended this mortal life."
This visit he survived about a twelvemonth, and it would have
been gratifying to know, whether he ever received any mark of
gratitude or kindness from his royal pupil, during the whole of his
protracted illness — presumptions are against it. Thaunus informs
us, that James required his preceptor to retract what he had written
with so much freedom respecting the queen his mother, and leave to
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 209
posterity some formal testimony of his compunction. He at first
returned an evasive answer, but being afterwards importuned by
repeated messages, he rnade this final declaration : — That he could
not recall what he had written in the full conviction of its truth ;
but that after his decease it would be in the king's power to adopt
such measures with regard to his writings as he might judge
expedient. He, however, admonished him to proceed with mature
deliberation ; and to reflect, that although God had intrusted supreme
power to kings, yet that truth, which derives its strength from God,
is as superior to their control as God is superior to man.
Tradition adds, that about this time, in one of the several messages
he sent to him, the king required his presence at court, within
twenty days, under pain of his displeasure ; but that he, finding his
death approaching, sent him back a letter of admonition relative to
the government of his kingdom, and well-being of his people ; and
told him, that he could run the hazard of his majesty's displeasure
without danger ; for that '' by the time limited, he would be where
few kings or great men should be honoured to enter." At reading
which, it is said, the king wept.
It is uncertain whether he lived to see his great work published :
he was, however, spared the pain of seeing the attempts of his
ungrateful pupil to suppress it, and what would have been more
galling to his virtuous spirit, the sycophancy of a Scottish parliament
seconding the wdshes of an undisguised, but happily a weak despot,
in a country, heretofore the land of freedom.
Buchanan exj^ired a short while after five o'clock, on the morning
of Friday the twenty-eighth of Sej)tember, 1582. He was then in
the seventy-seventh year of his age. His remains were interred in
the cemetery of the Grey Friars ; and his ungrateful country never
afforded his grave the common tribute of a monumental stone.
After an interval of some years, his tomb was opened ; and liis
skull, or at least a skull suj^posed to be his, was, by the intervention
of principal Adamson, deposited in the library of the university of
Edinburgh. It is so thin as to be transparent.
Buchanan had consecrated a monument of his own fame, composed
of materials more permanent than brass or marble ; but his country
has at length afforded him one of those memorials which are of
least value when most merited, and which contribute more to the
honour of the living than of the dead. An obelisk, nineteen feet
Bquare at the base, and extending to the height of one hundred and
three feet, was lately erected by subscription to his memory at the
village of Killearn.
Buchanan had experienced many of the vicissitudes of human
life, and, in every situation, had adhered to those maxims of conduct
which he deemed honourable. His integrity was stern and inflex-
ible : w^hat has been regarded as the least immaculate part of his
character, naturally resulted from the prominent qualities of a mind
which could not sufficiently accommodate itself to the frailties
of mankind. But the age in which he lived was rude and boister-
ous; nor did the exquisite cultivation of his mind entirely defend
him from the general contagion. He was subiect to the nice and
210 SCOTS WORTHIES.
irritable feelings wliicli frequently attend exalted genius; enthusi-
astic in his attachment, and violent in his resentment ; equally
sincere in his love and in his hatred. His friends, among whom he
numbered many of the most distinguished characters of that era,
regarded him with a warmth of affection which intellectual eminence
cannot alone secure. Of an open and generous disposition, he
displayed the enviable qualities which render domestic intercourse
profitable and interesting. Tlie general voice had awarded him a
pre-eminence in literature that seemed to preclude all hopes of
rivalship ; but his estimate of his own attainments was uniformly
consistent with perfect modesty ; and no man could evince himself
more willing to acknowledge genuine merit in other candidates for ._
fame. This affability, united to the charms of a brilliant conver- I
sation, rendered his society highly acceptable to persons of the raost^
opposite denominations. His countenance wa^ stern and austere ; i
but his heart soft and humane. His patriotism was of that unadul- '
terated species which flows from general philanthropy : his large
soul embraced the comm* n family of mankind ; but his affections
taught him that his first regards were due to the barren land from
which he derived his birth. Notwithstanding his long habituation
to an academical life, his manners betra^'ed none of the peculiarities
of a mere pedagogue. The native elegance of his mind, and the
splendour of his reputation, secured him the utmost respect and
deference from such of his countrj^men as were not separated from
him by the rancour of political zeal ; and although he even assumed
considerable latitude in censuring the errors of exalted station, yet
the dignified simplicity of his manners prevented his liberties from
exciting resentment. Conscious of personal vvoi-th and of intrinsic
greatness, he did not fail to assert his own privileges : mere supe-
riority of rank was not capable of alluring him to a servile and
degrading attachment; but it was equally incapable of provoking
his envy or malice. Of the truth of the Christian religion, and
consequently of its eternal moment, his conviction seems to have
been complete and uniform. The nature of his attachment to the
reformation was consistent with his usual wisdom : he eagerly
embraced the doctrine of the reformed.
Nor was the genius of Buchanan less variegated than his life. In
his numerous writings, he discovers a vigorous and mature combina-
tion of talents which have seldom been found united in equal perfec-
tion. To an imagination excursive and brilliant, he unites an unde-
viating rectitude of judgment. His learning was at once elegant,
various, and profound : in philosophical dialogue and historical nar-
rative ; in lyric and didactic poetry ; in elegy, epigram, and satire ;
he has never been equalled in modern, and hardly surpassed in
ancient times.
George Buchanan was bom in an age of little refinement, and en-
joyed none of the early advantages which result from hereditary
wealth ; but his intrinsic greatness of mind enabled him to emerge
from original obscurity, and to earn a reputation which can only
decay with literature itself. By the universal suffrage of the learned.
he has been stationed near the summit of modern renown ; but his
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 211
moral qualities are sometimes considered as more equivocal. His
character has however been subjected to a most rigid and inhuman,
scrutiny : his genuine actions have been misrepresented, if not with
all the powers, certainly with all the propensities, of the vilest sophis-
I try ; and many fictitious actions have been industriously imputed
to him, for the sake of completing the picture of his iniquities. He
has a thousand times been upbraided with horrible ingratitude for
favours which he never received. To prove the purest of mankind,
guilty of the most henious crimes, will always be extremely easy,
where passion and prejudice are permitted to supply every deficiency
of evidence ; where the witnesses are strangers to common veracity,
and the judges utterly unable or unwilling to appreciate their testi-
mony. The character of Buchanan excited the respect and even the
veneration of contemporaries highly distinguished for their moral
virtues, and for their intellectual endowments ; and it unquestionably
suggests another strong presumption in his favour, that notwithstand-
ing all the persevering anxiety of a regular succession of enemies,
political and theological, his long and chequered life has actually
been found to betray so few of the frailties inseparable from human-
ity. His stern integrity, his love of his country and of mankind,
cannot fail of endearing his memory to those who possess congenial
qualities ; and such errors as he really committed, will not perhaps
be deemed unpardonable by those who recollect that they are also
men.
" He was a man," says Sir James Melville, " of notable endow-
ments, great learning, and an excellent Latin poet ; he was much
honoured in foreign countries ; pleasant in conversation, into w^hich
he happily introduced short moral maxims, which his invention
readily supplied him with, upon any emergency." His works that
are now extant, make two folio volumes. The pamphlet, going
under the title of " the witty exploits of George Buchanan," seems
to be spurious ; although it is certain he pronounced many witty
sayings, of which the greater number were never committed to
writing.
212 SCOTS M'ORTHIES
JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN.
John Eeskine, descended of the ancient and honourable family of
Dnn, was born in tlie year 1509, at the family-seat near Montrose, m
the shire of Angus and the Mearns. In his youth he attended, most
probably, the university of Aberdeen, and afterwards travelled
abroad for the purpose of improving and perfecting his education,
by attendance at some of the foreign schools and universities.
In the year 1534, we find him returned home, and in possession
of his estate. At this time the merchants of Dundee, Montrose, and
other towns, carried on an extensive trade with England, Holland,
and France. From these places they imported Tyndale's translation
of the Scriptures, as well as books written against popery ; and the
accounts which at the same time reached this country of the pro-
gress of the reformation in Geraiany, induced many to read and in-
quire concerning religion, and to receive impressions very unfavoura-
ble to popery. These influences, and the conversation he had with
ministers and other serious persons, both abroad and at home, opera-
ting upon the mind of Erskine, he became a convert to the protestant
faitli : and he was also eminently instrumental in the conversion of
David Straiton, who, on the 27th of August of this year, was exe-
cuted at Edinbu^h for his profession of the reformed religion.
The castle of Dun was always open as an asylum for the perse-
cuted preachers and professors of the protestant faith, where they
enjoyed Christian communion. Mr. Erskine was appointed an
" extorter" long before he became a regular minister among the
reformers. " Exhorters" were a class of men, whose duty consisted
in expounding the Scriptures. Being provost of Montrose, he pro-
cured for George Wishart the appointment to be master of the gram-
mar school.
In the war with England, which began September, 1548, he took
an active part : and his able and gallant defence of the town of
Montrose, is particularly noticed. The following account as given by
Beagiie, will be read with interest.
"The English fleet came secretly thither expecting no opposition.
The Laird of Dun, by reason of the valetudinary state of his health,
chanced to be at home at the time. This gentleman had a large
stock of wisdom and honesty ; and being admirably well seen in
war, was not ignorant that the smallest oversights usher in for the
most part, inconveniences of the highest importance, namelie, where
access is easy. For. this reason, though his illnes pleaded for rest,
JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 2] 3
lie never retired at night till he had first visited the guard of a fort,
which, with incredible diligence, he had caused to be reared at the
mouth of the harbour of Montrose : then after weakening, or doub-
ling the guard as he found expedient, and leaving proper orders
behind him, he retired to his own house, or stayed in the town of
Monross ; and was frequently wont to say, ' That as men of honnour
are bound to fear shame, so they are by the same rule oblidged not
to shun dangers or troubles.' When the English fleet approached,
he hapned to see a great many ships not far of. Behold a singular
example of what a ready wit can effect upon the most urgent neces-
sitys. The Laird of Dun having discovered the enimys fleet, and
looking for the worst, a consideration seldome lyable to the pains of
repenting, gave orders to some of his men to man the best ships in
the liarbour, and impede the enimie's ingress that way; he com-
manded others to guard the fort, and sent off some to the town, with
orders to go about in a privat way among the Burgesses, seamen,
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 compass his aim with the more caution, he
left a part of his men out of the town in an advantageous place, for-
merly fortifyed, to secure his retrait, and advanced with the most
nimble, with that secrecy and diligence, that he discovered the
enimie's frigates sailing to and froe with their men in them landing.
Having thus penetrated into the plot, he withdrew to his party he
had left without the town ; and having placed sentinells in proper
posts, to prevent surprizes, he reentered the town. By this time a
thousand of the inhabitants wer in armse ; of them he picked out
three hundred, and ordered them out to joyn their friends at the
trenches, the remainder he thought unfltt 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 gentlemen he
ordered to lye closs till he gave the signal 1, the second fire of his
artillery, and then to draw all their company in the best order they
could, and show themselves at a distance to the English. 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 hast-
ned 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 flve times, till they rallyed and offered to repell the
shock, the ambush retired with order and inconsiderable 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
i the remainder, without coming to hardy blowes. Thus, the Laird of
) Dun's orders and dispositions wer exactly executed, and now all
being ready for his intended project, and apprehensive that the heat
214 SCOTS WORTHIES.
of action should warm his men to an excess of forwardnes, he began
insensibly to draw them behind the trenches. This he did so cun-
ningly, that the enimies scarce perceived the insensible retiring,
till they saw him retire with the last. Upon this the English pur-
sued briskly, as he expected, and then tlie Laird of Dun commanded
three feild pieces which he had brought thither to be discharged,
which by reason of the nearries and confusion of the enimie, did
them a worlde of mischeife. After this the Scots broke out again,
with a great cry, and their swords in hand, with incredible and irre-
sistible fury. Meanwhile, the signall being given, the detachment
which the Laird of Dun had loged on the back of the hill, made all
the neighbourhood resound with shouts and huzzas, and failed not to
show themselves as ordered at a convenient distance; they appeared
in the form of a four-square battalion, and wer so skilfuly ranked,
though their weepons were ridiculouse, that the enemy took them to
be armed according to the French fashion and concluded they wer
about to cut off their retreat. This struck them with terrour, and
made them run to the sea with the grea[te]st disorder that fancy
can represent. They ne[ver] once looked back on the pursuing
Scots, who chased them so eagerly, and made such havock among
them, that of nine hundred not one hundred gote to their ships. The
fleet putt to sea and retired. The Laird of Dun divided the spoils
of the vanquished among his men, and returned to the town with the
glory of a victory, that was owing not only to valour and vigilancy,
but to such a nice piece of martiall 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."
In the autumn of the year 1555, and shortly after Knox's arrival
from Geneva, the laird of Dun held a conference at his lodgings in
Edinburgh upon the unlawfulness of communion with papists. Mr.
Knox pointed out the sinfulness of it so forcibly, that a great seces-
sion was made from the popish meetings ; and the reformers resolved
so soon as a protestant minister could be procured, the sacrament of
the Lord's Supper should be administered to them according to the
plan adopted by the reformed churches abroad. Soon after this Mr.
Erskine left Edinburgh for his family seat of Dun, Mr. Knox quickly
following, and residing with him for about a month, where the latter
daily preached the gospel, and dispensed the sacrament to most
the gentlemen of the county of Nearns and Angus, all engaging
oppose idolatry to the utmost.
^ In Deceniber 1557, the parliament assembled, and having nam^
eight commissioners, among whom was the laird of Dun, to proceed
to France to be present at the marriage of the young queen with the
dauphin, they set sail in February 1558. They returned in October
following, after a voyaore of great disaster ; some of the commission
ers having died, not without suspicion of having been poisoned. ^
After the martyrdom of Walter Mill, the last who suffered pre-
vious to the reformation, the professors of the protestant religion
^rew more bold, and in the summer of 1558, held their meetings
tor worship in public, and were countenanced by the presetice of tli
ter
]
ecB
t tliQ_
JOHN ERSKENE OF DUN. 215
laird of Dun, and lord James, prior of St. Andrew's, botli of whom
had returned safe from the embassy to France.
The English queen, Mary, having died T^ovember 15th of the
same year, and her sister Elizabeth, who succeeded her, being a pro-
testant, she gave her countenance and support to the reformers in
Scotland.
The laird of Dun was one of the petitioners to the queen regent
of Scotland, who, being chiefly guided by the popish bishops, perse-
cuted her protestant subjects, and was strongly opposed to the spread
of the principles of the reformation. The petitioners requested per-
mission to worship God, " according to the dictates of their own
conscience," and also desired that their ministers should be freed
from obeying 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 congrega-
tion 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 counsellors. The queen regent even signified her
wish to have a conference with him ; but this was only used as a
pretext for delay, till she had accomplished her design with the par-
liament, of vesting in the dauphin, the succession to the crown of
Scotland. After some conference with the queen, who used all her
wonted dissimulation, the laird of Dun became impressed with her
sincerit}^, 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 gentlemen were of
opinion that the laird of Dun had been deceived, and therefore
determined to remain at Perth until after the 10th of May, or until
the proclamation should be withdrawn. The ministers having 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-com-
pearance, 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 congregation
into a state of great consternation ; 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
ocoon, on the following day. But the laird of Dun and Knox w^ere
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 conduct-
ing some of the most arduous affairs of the nation. He was one of
those appointed to sign the instructions given to the Scots commis-
sioners, dated at Glasgow, February 10th, 1560, who went to Berwick
to treat with the Duke of Norfolk, for assistance from England
against the French troops, who at this time held possession of Leith.
The commissioners having acted according to their instructions, aid
was sent from England, under the command of lord Gray of Wilton,
216 SCOTS WORTHIES.
who succeeded in expelling the French -* and by the treaty of Leitl),
whicli was signed May 10th, 1560, the reformation was finally estab-
lished.
On the death of the qneen regent, which happened in June follow-
ing, 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 Discij)line was
produced, which contained an act, ordaining ecclesiastical superin-
tendents. They nominated five, agreeably to the " First Book,'' and
the laird of Dun was appointed to the superintendence of Angus
and Mearns.
On December 10th, 1560, the first National or Genei-al 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 exhorters,
without the necessary examination laid down in the " First Book of
Discipline," — that gentlemen of vicious lives were chosen to bo
elders — and that sundry ministers came late to the kirk, unneces-
sarily detaining the people, and causing them to depart immedi-
ately after sermon. The superintendent being called in, tendered
his resignation of the commission he had received from the assembly
— stating that the office was one of much difficulty and responsi-
bility ; and, from the declining state of his health, he wished to be
freed from it — at the same time, he promised to do all in his power
to remedy the evils complained of.
The laird of Dun was chosen Moderator 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 there-
fore 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
♦ For an account of the siege, the curious reader is referred to " The Seige of Leith," in
Churchyard's '• Chips concerning Scotland," pp. 88-115. The author served in the English
arnty, and was actively engaged.
JOHN ELISKINK OF DUN. 217
the coronation of James YI., wliich took place at Stirling, July 29th,
1567.
After the assembly of 1569, a commission 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 parlia-
ment which was passed at Edinburgh, 24th ilugust, 1560, their tenets
rendered them unfit for the ofiice of teachers 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 with letters
from the English ministers of state, containing proposals for the
return of the queen to Scotland. Of this convention the laird of
Dun was member for the town of Montrose.
A circumstance is related that took place next year, which shows
that the pious life led by the laird of Dun, was acknowledged in a
remarkable w^ay — he having had, like the prophets of old, a revela-
tion of the death of the " good regent," which happened at Linlith-
gow on the 23d January, 1570. ihe following is Wodrow's account,
as handed down on the authority of two ministers of the church, who
at one time resided in the family of Dun. " The regent was over in
Lochleven with the earl of Northumberland, 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 superintendent 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, and the laird of Dun were standing in that
window, conversing closely upon important matters, with their faces
looking towards the green. While the regent was talking, 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 regent with these words, ' Ah ! woes me,
my lord, for what I perceive is to befall you shortly, for in a fort-
night'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 regarded them."
After the murder of the earl of Moray, the earl of Mar was ap-
pointed regent, and the laird of Dun entered into a correspondence
with him, in which he showed his great zeal for the liberties of the
church. His first letter, dated lOtli ISTovember 1571, 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 govern-
ment,— on presentations to bishops, — and on the superseding of su-
perintendents by bishops ; and as it contains distinct answers to all
these questions, exhibiting a view of his opinions on these subjects,
it is here given entire.
"I thought it expedient in write to let your Grace know my
21S SCOTS WORTHIES.
judgment in these articles and heads conteaned in your Grace's last
writing. As to the pension appointed before unto the Eegent's house,
as I understand, litle difficulty will be therin, your Grace doing
your duty to the Kirk, tlie which I pray God your Grace may do.
As to the provision of benefices, this is my judgment. All bene-
fices of teinds, or having teinds joyned or annexed thereunto, which
is taken up of the peoples labours, have the offices joined imto them ;
which office is the preaching of the Evangell and ministration of the
sacraments ; and this office is spiritual!, and belongeth to the Ivirk,
who only hath the distribution and ministation of spiritual! things ;
60 be tlie Kirk spirituall offices are distributed, and men received and
admitted therunto ; and the administration of the power is com-
mitted be the Kirk to Bishops or Superintendants, wherfor to tlje
Bishops and Superintendants perteaneth the examination and admis-
sion of men to offices and Benefices of spirituall cure, whatsoever
benefice it be, as well Bishopricks, Abbacys and Priories, as otlier
benefices inferior. That this perteaneth by the Scriptures of God to
the Bishops or Superintendants is manifest, for the Apostle Paul
writeth in the 2d to Timothy, chap. 2, ver. 2, ' These things that
thou hast heard of me, many being witness, the same deliver to
faithful! men, who shall be able to teach others.' Here the Apostle
referreth the examination to Timothy of the quality and ability of
the persons, wher he sayeth, ' to men able to teach others,' and also
the admonition he referreth, wher he biddeth deliver to Mm^ the
same that is Me to teach others j and in another place, 1 Tim. chap.
5, ver. 22, 'Lay hands on no man sudainly, neither be partaker of
other men's sins, keep thyself pure.' By laying on of hands, is un-
derstood admission to spirituall offices, which the Apostle will not
that Timothy do suddenly, without just examination of their man-
ners 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 ex-
presses the quality and conditions of such men as should be admit-
ted, as at lenth is. conteaned in the first chapter of the Epistle for-
said. 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 or
Superintendant, is to take away the office of a Bishop, that no
bishop be in the Kirk, which were to alter and abolish the order
that God hath appointed in his Kirk. Ther is a spirituall power
and jurisdiction which God hath given to his Kirk, and to those
who bear office therin, and ther is a temporall jurisdiction given
of God to kings and civil magistrates. Both the powers are of God,
and most agreing to the fortifying one another, if they be right
used. But when the corruption of man entereth in, confounding
JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 219
the offices, usurping to himself what he pleaseth, uotliing 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 presumption of his authority, made Preists
in his realme, express against the order which the Lord in those
dayes had appointed concerning the priesthood, wherupon followed
[the] destruction of that king, and his seed also, as also of all other
kings who followed him in that wickednes. For better understand-
ing of this matter, Christ hath given forth a rule which ought to be
weighed of magistrates, and of all people, saying, ' Give to Ca3sar
that pertaineth to Ca3sar, and to God that which pertaineth unto
God.' The Kirk of God should fortify all lawfull power and author-
ity that pertaineth to the civil magistrat, because its the ordinance
of God, but if he pass the bounds of his office, and enters the sanc-
tuary of our Lord, medling with such things as appertean to the
ministers of God's Kirk, as Uzziah King of Judah, 2. Paralip. 16,
entering into the temple to burn incense, the which pertained not to
his office, then the servants of God should withstand his unjust
interprize, as the Preists at that time did withstand the Kings of
Judah, for so they are commanded of God. The servants of God,
w^hen 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
Great 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 patron-
ages, but that they have their privileges of presentation accord-
ing to the lawes, providing alwise that the examination and admis-
sion pertean only to the Kirk, of all benefices having cure of
souls. That it should not appear that the pastors of the Kirk,
of avarice and ambition, seek to have posesion of great bene-
fices, your Grace shall understand, that the Kirk continoually
hath suited (of old as well as of new) as their articles concluded in
the General Assembly s, and consented to, and subscribed by the
most part of the nobility, which are to be produced, bear, and was
propounded to the Queen, the King's Majestys mother, to wit, that
whenever any of the great Benefices vake, having many Kirks
joyned thereunto, that all the Kirks should be divided, and severally
disponed to several 1 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
Buiteth your Grace, and councill to have the same fulfilled, but if
this cannot be granted, I mean the dismembering, as they call it, of
great benefices, I trust, in respect of this confused troublesome time,
220 SCOTS WORTHIES.
tlie Xirk will consent (the benefices and offices joyned thereunto
hein^r given, after the order before spoken of, that the privilege and
lil>erty of the Kirk be not hurt,) to assign such profites as may be
spared ab<Tve the reasonable sustentation of the ministry, to the men-
tenance of the authority and common affairs for the present, while
further order may be tane in these matters ; for the Kirk contend-
eth not ft)r worldly profite, but for tliat spirituall liberty which God
hath given unto it, w^ithout the which be granted, the servants of
God will not be satisfyed, but will oppose themselves against all
power and tyranny, which presumeth to spoil the Kirk, of the
liberty thereof, and rather to dye than underly that miserable
bondage. Their lives are not so dear to them as is the honour of
God, and liberty of his Kirk. I hear some men bragg and boasts
the poor ministers of God, to take their lives from them, but I wish
such men contean themselves within bounds, for they are not sure
of their own lives, and to runn that race will make it more short.
Of old, the Papists called the truth heresy^ and now some call the
truth treason. We may perceive in all ages and times Satan wanteth
not his servants to impugne the truth. As to the question, If it be
expedient 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
wherupon the question is moved, I answer, the Superintendants that
are placed, ought to continow in their offices, notwithstanding any
other intruse themselves, or are placed be such as have no power in
such offices. They may be called Bishops, but are no Bishops, but
idols, Zach. 11, IT, saith the Prophet, and therfor the Superintend-
ants which are called and placed by the Kirk, have office and juris-
diction, and the other Bishops, so called, have no office and jurisdic-
tion 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 robbera. I cannot but from my very heart lament that
freat misorder used in Stirling at the last Parliament, in creating
►ishops, 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 down the pride of the mighty. I hear that some
wer offended with the commissioners of the Kirk at that time, but
without cause, for they passed not the bounds of their commission,
and the whole Kirk will affirm their proceedings, and insist further
in that matter. If that misordered creation of Bishops be not
reformed, the Kirk will first complean unto God, as also to all their
brethren members of the Kirk within this realme, and to all reform-
ed 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 temporal! authority, but if ther wer no
other particular respects but the authority, I judge they would not
JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 221
travell so bussily ; but what respect soever they have, their unright-
ious 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 abomination. Because the servants of the
Lord speak in this matter, reproving mens corruptions, they are
called proud, and misknowers 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 min-
isters 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 threasure than they, though it be in earthen vessels, as
eaith the Apostle Saint Paul, 2 Cor. chap. 4, ver. 7. And have re-
ceived 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 re-
proaches of men, neither be affray^d of their rebukes and threat-
nings, for the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm"
shall eat them as wool ; but my rightiousnes 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 nre, unable
to stand, but are to perish in the day of the Lords visitation. 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 trou-
ble, craftily to handle in Kirk, wliile all their troubles be pacify ed.
Let such men understand 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 thereof, for the mighty God who hath been a pro-
tector of his Kirk in all ages, and hath destroyed and casten down
great impyres and kingdomes that made battail against his Kirk,
shall use the same judgments against all men that in their days in-
tend 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 admonition of Davids to Kings and magistrates, ' Be wise, O !
ye Kings, be learned, O ! ye that are Judges of the earth, serve the
Lord with fear, and rejoyce before him with reverence. Kisse the
Son lest the Lord be angry, and so ye perish from the right way, for
bis wrath shall be shortly kindled,' I conclude with. Of Montrose
the 10th of November, 1571."*
• Wodrow's Lives of the Reformers, Vol. I. pp. 36 — 11.
222 SCOTS WORTHIES.
The earl of Morton, at this time, was extremely urgent to have Mr.
Douglas presented to the see of St. Andrew's, that the profits of the
benefice might revert thereby into his own hands; and the proceed-
ings which took place in consequence drew a second letter from
Ei*sldne, which follows.
'* I being in Perth this "Wensday, having there an Assembly of
the Kirk of Stormont and Gourie, being under my care, I received a
writing from your Grace, touching the convention to be in Leith of
the Superintendants, the 16 of this Instant, specifying also an
inhibition, that nothing should be answered to the collectors of the
Kirk. It is the first inhibition given to that effect, and I wish of
God it had not begun in your Graces hands. The poor ministers
are not convict of any crimes nor oifence, and yet their living is
commanded to be holden from them. I perceive the Kirk to be so
fiir 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 benefices 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 inhibited to be
answered. If this hath proceeded for obteaning the pension assigned
to the first most Godly Kegent; that might have been handled
otherwise more reasonably : for I know the mind of the Kirk willing
to have satlsfyed your Grace therein, and that might have been
obteaned 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 purposes, and bring destruction
upon the heads of such who so intend, of whatsoever estate they be,
and will preserve his Kirk in liberty. Perceiving such proceeding,
I see no cause wherefor any who bear office should come to Leith, for
their counsel will not be received, neither will they be suffered to
reason freely, as experience hath taught in times past: and the
counsell of the enemies of God and his Kirk is followed, yet despised
Israel is comforted in the Lord, he careth for his people and will
deliver them from the oppression of Tyrants, and give them honour
and liberty, when their enimies shall sufi*er confusion and shame.
If your Grace consider the matter well, ye will call back the letters
of inhibition ; if not, the Kirk will have patience, and look for help
at the hands of the Lord. The Kirk should have her own, and not
beg at men. I have staid the Superintendant of Fyfe, while my
coming to St. Andrew's, till we know further of your Grace's mind
by this bearer, if it be your pleasure. Perth, 14 JSTovembris."*
In reply to these two letters, the regent sent the following : —
" Right trustie cusine, After most hearty commendations, in place
of your self, whom we have long looked for, we have received this
day two letters of yours, one from Montrose the 10, and another from
Perth the 14, of this moneth ; conteaning other effect and matter
than our expectation was. In consideration of our good meaning to
have travelled by all possible means for quieting of such things as
wer in contraversy, that the ministers of the Kirk might have found
♦ Wodrow's Lives of the Reformers, vol. L, pp. 43, 44.
JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN. 223
some ease and repose, and we be relieved of a fashions burden that
we have, in default of a certain forme accorded unto the disposition
of benelices greater or smaller: our said meaning we perceive is
otherwise taken, which we understand to proceed from other privat
fountains than your own good nature; and so we will not press meikle
to contend with you in write by reason of this matter, as the weight
and gravity therof requireth. We have been very desirous indeed
to speak to yourself, especially since we were burthened with charge
of regiment, and your own presence peradventure might have
supplyed some things that your letters find fault with. But seeing
matters taken as they are, that all occasion of grudge may be
removed for anything done by us, we send you herewith an inhibition
of the charge lately given. For as we have lived heretofore (praised
be God) honourably on our own, so shall we forbear to crave the
collectors, while this matter be better considered of. And yet when
indifferent men shall look on the words of the inhibition, the intention
wherfor it is given, and for how short a space it should have lasted ;
we trust that they shall think that it ought not to be tane in such part
as we see it is taken. If collectors be subjects to the king (of others
we will spare to speak at this time,) they might compear when they
are charged, and not write in contempt, let as many charges pass as
they please, they will obey none, and this we mean of such as be most
ernest. What the other Regents had intended to be taken up, that
we shall be frustrat of, which yet was not the greatest occasion why
we desired some of the Superintendants to be here at this time ; but
thir matters touched in our leter sent you. Which albeit we sent
you for privat information, 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 priviledge of the King,
Crown and Patronage. The default of the whole stands in this, that
the policy of the Kirk of Scotland is not perfect, or any solid
conference among godly men, that are well willed, and of judgment,
how the same may be helped. And for corruption which daily
encreaseth, whensoever the circumstances of things shall be well
considered by the good ministers, 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 procurement. If ye see no cause that any who beareth
ofiice 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 burthened 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 occasions
that wer most apparent to bring quietness to the poor ministers of
the Kirk. And in the meantime, I will answer no further to the
224: SCOTS WORTHIES.
several points of your letters, but keep the same to my self, while
time and better advice work eifects. 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, com mitts
you to the protection of Almighty God. At Leith, this 15 of
November, 1571. Your assured good Friend,
John Regent."*
The assembly which met in 157f5, appointed commissioners for
compiling the " Second Book of Discipline," among whom was the
laird of Dun. Each commissioner had a particular point of church-
government allotted to him ; and in the assembly which met in the
following 3'ear, 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 removing his
doubts. In 15T9, the " Second Book of Discipline" w^as 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 com-
pilers, 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 assemblies of 1586
and 1587. With the king's consent he was appointed to erect pres-
byteries 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 assembly of 1588, and three years after, his infir-
mities increasing with his yeare, he departed this life, at his house
of Dun, March 12th, 1591, in the eighty-second year of his age ; —
leaving a numerous posterity, and a 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 ^ve 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
m Edinburgh, in May, 1565, it is related by Knox, that queen Mary
expressed the following opinion of his character : " That albeit she
was not perauaded of the truth of any religion, but the one in which
she had been brought up, yet she would be content to hear public
preaching, out of the mouths of such as pleased her ; and that above
all others, she would gladly hear the superintendent of Angus, Sir
John Erskine, for he was a mild and sweet-natured man, and of true
honesty and uprightness."
He has the honour of being among the first who professed the
reformation in the north of Scotland, and had a great share in pro-
moting its success. He was possessed of singular prudence, great
generosity, liberality, and considerable learning ; he was bold and
zealous — but, above all, singularly pious and religious.
• Wodrow's Lives of the Reformers, Vol. I. pp. 4^
ROBERT ROLLOCK.
ROBERT ROLLOCK.
Egbert EoLLocK was born in the year 1555, and was descended from
the ancient family of the Livingstons. Discovering a talent for
learning, his father, David Eollock, sent him to Stirling to be edu-
cated 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 entering the university, when
he was sent to the college of St. Salvador, St. Andrew's. By his
genius, modesty, and sweetness of disposition, young Eollock pro-
cured for himself the particular friendship of his master, which con-
tinued 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 professor 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 uni-
versities, for the same professor to conduct the studies of the same
set of students through the whole course; and the remarkable pro-
fress of his pupils, induced the magistrates of Edinburgh to fix upon
Ir. Eollock, as a fit person to open their university, which had
been founded by James YI., the previous year. This invitation Mr.
Eollock 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 profes-
sors to the infant establishment. His reputation as a teacher soon
drew a number of students to that college. Having no assistant,
Mr. Eollock joined all his students at first into one class, but after-
wards he found a division necessary ; forming 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. Eollock, the patrons of the college elected a young man of the
name of Duncan ISTairn, a second master of the college, who under-
took the charge of this first class in the month of November, 1583.
Mr. I^airn taught his class Latin the first year, Greek the second ;
there being properly no humanity professor in the university till a
number of years afterwards. Mr. Eollock was also created principal,
though he still continued to teach his class. Duncan ]S"airn died the
following year ; and the council having resolved to have three classes
15
226 SCOTS WORTHIES.
tauglit, Messi-s. Adam Colt and Alexander Scrimger were elected in
Ills place.
l^iv. Kollock continued to teach his class till the first laureation,
"vvhich was public, and attended by all the nobility in town. The
number graduated was forty-eight, who of course signed the national
covenant ; for it liad been introduced into the college, and tendered
to every student in the year 1586. As soon as this ceremony was
concluded, Mr. Eollock resigned the special care of his class, but
retained the principalship, to which was now annexed the professor-
ship of theology ; for which, and preaching regularly on the Sabbath,
he was allowed fuur hundred marks yearly. He prayed in public
with the students every morning; and on one day of the week ex-
plained to them some passage of Scripture, which exercised he con-
cluded with most pertinent and practical exhortations. He was par-
ticularly careful of the more advanced students, that they might
enter upon the ministry prepared 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 commentaries on different pas-
sages 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 trea-
sure, which, for its judiciousness, brevity, and elegance of style, had
few equals.
With literary ardour and piety almost boundless, Mr. Bollock's
simplicity of character disqualified him from acting either a consis-
tent, or a profitable part in conducting the public affairs of the
church, which at this period were of paramount importance, involv-
ing 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 him-
self, 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 com-
missioned by the assembly to wait on his majesty about seating the
churches of Edinburfjh.*
* So long as popery was the dominant religion, all the churches were without seats. It
is certain, that previous to 1586, neither pews nor lorms were used. In that year, the
pulpit stones in the churches of Glasgow were ordered to be removed, and laid in ranks
for the women to sit upon ; and two years later, some ash trees in the High Churchyard
were ordered to be cut down '* to make forms for the folk to sit on in the Kirk." . In
1589, the session farther ordained, '• that no woman should sit upon or occupy the forms
men should sit on, but either sit laigh, or else bring stools wi' them." (Hence the reason
why Jenny Geddes was so readily furnished with the stool which she hurled at the bishop's
bead in the church of Kdinburgh, who " first dared to read prayers at her lug^) In
consequence of the va.st concourse of people that then began to crowd the churches, from
the compulsory edicto of the clergy, it was found necessary soon after to erect galleries.
The eariiest account of them upon record is in 1591.'
JOHN CRAIG. 227
Soon after this, Mr. Rollock was seized with an illness which con-
fined him to his house, and finally terminated his existence.
His works are a commentary on some select Psalms ; on the Pro-
phecy of Daniel ; and the Gospel of John with its Harmony. He
wrote also on the Epistles to the Ephesians, Colossians, Thessalo-
nians, and Galatians ; and an analysis of the Epistles to the Romans
and Hebrews, with respect to effectual calling.
JOHN CRAIG.
John Craig was born about the year 1512, and had the misfortune
to lose his father next year at the battle of Flodden. Notwithstanding
this misfortune, he obtained a good education, and removing to
England, became tutor to the children of lord Dacre. In consequence
of war arising between England and Scotland, he returned to his
native country, and became a monk of the Dominican order.
Having afforded some reason for a suspicion of heresy, he was cast
into prison, but being acquitted, he returned to England, and
endeavoured, by the influence of lord Dacre, to procure a place at
Cambridge, in which, however, he was disappointed. He then
travelled to France, and thence to Rome, where he was in such
I favour with cardinal Pole, that he obtained a place among the
I Dominicans of Bologna, and was appointed to instruct the novices
! of the cloister. Being advanced to the rectorate, he had access to
I 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
1 Rome, thrown into prison, tried, and condemned to be burnt ; from
: which fate he was only saved by an accident. Pope Paul lY.
j 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
I liberty. Craig immediately left the city ; and, as he was walking
; through the suburbs, he met a company of banditti, — one of whom,
' taking him aside, asked him if he had ever been in Bologna ? On
his answering in the affirmative, the man inquired if he recollected,
' as he was one day walking there in the fields with some young
I noblemen, having administered relief to a poor maimed soldier, who
i asked him for alms ? Craig replied that he had no recollection of
228 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Buch an event ; the bandit told him, however, that he conld never
forget the kindness he had received on that occasion, which he
would now beg to repay by administering to the present necessities
of his benefactor. 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
o Milan, avoiding all the principal roads, for fear of meeting any
lemy. One day, when both his money and strength were ex-
hausted by the journey, he came to a desert place, where he threw
himself down upon the ground, and almost despaired 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 recognised this as " a special token of God's favour ;" and,
picking up fresh energy, proceeded 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 Bothwell obtained a divorce from his lawful wife,
preparatory to his marriage with queen Mary. The queen sent a
letter to Mr. Craig, commanding 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
conduct 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 Montrose, "for the illuminating the north ; and when he
Lad remained two years there, be was sent to Aberdeen, to illumi-
nate those dark places in Mar, Buchan, and Aberdeen, and to teach
the youth in the college there."
In 1569, Mr. Craig being appointed minister to the king (James
YI.,) 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 iu
JOHN CRAIG. 229
a future age to exercise so mighty an influence over tlie 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 temporal, 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 nnto all who should disobey
the king's command, and his council's orders ; and forthwith
charged them to appear before the king at Falkland, on the 4:th of
September following.
Upon their appearance at Falkland, they were again accused of
transgressing the foresaid act of Parliament, and disobeying the
bishop's injunctions, when there arose a hot discussion between Mr.
Craig and the bishop of St. Andrew's. The earl of Arran interfered
and spoke most outrageously against Mr. Craig, who coolly replied
" that there had been as great men set np higher, who had been
brought low." Arran rejoined, " I shall make thee of a false liar, a
true prophet," and, stooping down on Kis knee he said, " now I am
humbled." " IN'ay," 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. Andrew's was appointed to preach
in his place ; but as soon as he entered the great church of Edin-
burgh, 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 Holyrood-
house, 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 subjects craving justice,
so God in his providence had made a noise of crying, and forehani-
mers to come to his own doors." The king would have the people to
stay after sermon, that he might purge himself; and said, " if he had
thought his hired servant (meaning Mr. Craig, who was his minister)
would have dealt in that manner with him, he should not have
* John Craig was a very different man from the royal chaplains of after times. He
boldly opposed the proceedings of the court when ne 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.
280 SCOTS WORTHIES.
dealt with him so long in his house." Mr. Craig, by reason of the
crowd, not hearing what he said, went away.
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 unable to serve any longer, and his majesty
designing to place John Duncanson, Mr. Craig's colleague, with the
prince, therefore his highness desired an ordinance to be made,
f ranting any two ministers he should choose. This was accordingly
one, 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. lie 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. lie compiled the
National Covenant, and a catechism commonly called Craig's Cate-
chism, which was first printed by order of the assembly, in 1591.
DAYID 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 prophetical and sacerdotal ofiices; but, from 1570
downward, they were more particulai'ly called upon to vindicate and
defend his regal prerogative, as king and head of the church.
Among the earliest of tliose who stood forward in defence of their
Lord and Master, was David Black, to whom a conspicuous part is
most preeminently 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. Andrew's. He was remarkable for zeal
and fidelity in the discliarge of his duty, applying his doctrines
closely to the corruptions of "the age, whether prevailing 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 ministry, thinking that by this method of procedure
with him, the spiritual government of the house of God was intended
DAVID BLACK. 231
to be subverted, resolved that be should decline answering the king
and council, and that in the meantime, thej should be preparing
themselves to prove from the holy Scriptures, that the judgment of
all doctrine, in the first instance, belonged to the church.
Accordingly, Mr. Black, on the 18th November, 1596, gave in a
declinature to the council to this effect : That he was able to defend
all that he had said : yet seeing his answering before them to that
accusation might be prejudicial to the liberties of the church, and
would be taken as an acknowledgment of his Majesty's jurisdiction
in matters merely spiritual, he was constrained to decline that judi-
catory, 1. Because the Lord Jesus Christ had given him his word for
a rule, and that therefore he could not fall under the civil law, but in
60 far as, after trial he should be found to have passed from his
instructions, which trial belonged only to the prophets, i. e. the min-
isters of the church. 2. That the liberties of the church, and disci-
pline presently exercised, were confirmed by divers acts of parlia-
ment, 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 different presbyteries, was in a
short time subscribed by between three and four hundred ministers,
all assenting to and approving of it.
The commissioners of the general assembly then sitting at Edin-
burgh, knowing that the king was displeased at this proceeding, sent
some of their number to speak with his majesty ; to whom he replied
that if Mr. Black would pass 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 Edinburgh ; and the same day, the commissioners of the
assembly were ordered to depart thence in twenty-four hours, under
pain of rebellion.
Before the day of Mr. Black's second appearance at the council,
he prepared a still more explicitdeclinature, especially as it respected
the king's supremacy, declaring, " that there are two jurisdictions in
the realm, the one spiritual, and the other civil ; the one respect-
ing the conscience, and the other concerning external things ;
the one persuading by the spiritual sword, the other compelling by
the temporal sword ; the one spiritually procuring the edification of
the church, the other by justice procuring the peace and quiet of the
commonwealth, which being grounded in the light of nature, pro-
ceeds from God as he is Creator, and is so termed by an apostle,*
but varying according to the constitution of men ; the other above
nature, grounded upon the grace of redemption, proceeding imme-
diately from the gospel of Christ, the only king and only head of
his church. f Therefore, in so far as he was one of the spiritual
office-bearers, and had discharged his spiritual calling in some mea-
* 1 Pet. ii. t Epli. i. Col. ii.
232 SCOTS WORTHIES.
sure of grace and sincerity, he should not, and conld not, law-
fully be judged for j)reachii)g 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 M*as sent to all sorts, his commission and discharge of
it should not, nor cannot, be lawfully judged by them to whom ho
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 him, upon which his bre-
thren of the commission directed their doctrine against the council.
The king sent a message to the commissioners, signifying that ho
would rest satisfied with Mr. Black's simple declaration of the truth ;
but Mr. Bruce and the rest replied, that if the affair concerned Mr.
Black alone, they should be content ; but the liberty of Christ's
kingdom had received such a wound by the proclamation of last
Saturday, that if Mr. Black's life, and a dozen of others besides, had
been taken, it had not grieved the hearts of the godly so much, and
that either these things behoved to be retracted, or they would op-
pose so long as they had breath. But, after a long process, no miti-
gation of the council's severity could be obtained ; for Mr. Black
was charged by a macer, to enter his person in ward, on the north
of the Tay, there to remain on his own expense, during his majesty's
pleasure ; and though he was next year restored to his place at St.
Andrew's 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, w^here he continued till the
day of his death. lie had always been a severe check on the negli-
gent and unfaithful part of the clergy ; but now they had found
means to get rid of him. The situation from which he had been
ejected was conferred upon Mr. George Gladstanes, minister of
Arbirlot, in the county of Angus, to which charge Black was soon
after inducted.
After his removal to that place, he continued to exercise his minis-
try, preaching daily to such as resorted to hira, with much success,
and enjoying an intimate communion with God till the day of his
death.
In his last sickness, the Christian temper of his mind was so much
improved by large measures of the Spirit, that his conversation had
a remarkable eftect in humbling the hearts and comforting the souls
of those who attended him ; engaging them to take the easy yoke
of Christ upon them. He found in his own soul also, such a sensible
taste of heavenly joy, that he was seized with a fervent desire to
depart, and to be with the Lord, longing to have the earthly house
of his tabernacle dissolved, that he rnight be admitted into the man-
sions of everlasting rest. In the midst of tliese earnest breathings
after God, the Lord was wonderfully pleased to condescend to the
importunity of his servant, to let him know that the time of his
departure was near. Upon which he took a solemn farewell of his
family and flock, in a discourse, as Melville says, that seemed to bo
JOHN DAVIDSON. 233
spoken out of heaven, concerning the misery and grief of this life,
and the inconceivable glory which is above.
The night following, after supper, having read and prayed in his
family with unusual continuance and fervency, he went to bed, and
slept for some time. The next day being set apart for the celebra-
tion of the Lord's Supper, he went to church, and having brought
the communion service near a close, he felt death approaching ; and
all discovering a sudden change in his countenance, some ran to
support him ; but pressing to be on his knees, with his hands and
eyes lifted up to heaven, in the very act of adoration, as in a trans-
port of joy, he was taken away without showing any symptoms of
pain. Thus this holy man who had so faithfully maintained the
interest of Christ upon earth, breathed forth his soul in this happy
manner, so that it seemed rather like a translation than a real death.
JOHN DAYIDSON.
John Davidson was a native of Dunfermline, and was born, pro-
bably, about the year 1550, as he was enrolled a student of St.
Leonard's college, in the university of St. Andrew's, 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 council, 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 j)oem
was entitled " Commendatioun of Uprichtnes." M'Orie 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 ex-
posed with faithfulness and spirit; but without anything disrespect-
ful to authority, or tending in the slightest degree to excite ' sedition
and uproar.' " Kutherford, however, principal of St. Salvador's
college, and a number of his colleagues in the university, more de-
sirous of keeping favour with the court, than of appearing in defence
of the persecuted church, showed themselves unfriendly to David-
234 SCOTS WORTHIES.
6on ; and Entherford, conceiving that disrespectful allusions had
been made to himself in the poem, wrote a reply to it. The follow-
ing is the offensive 'passage: —
" Thair is some collages we ken,
Weill fonndit to uphald learnit men:
Amang the rest fonndit we se
The teiching of theologie.
I.at anis the counsell send and se
Gif Ihir places weill gydit be ;
And not abusit wi waist rudis,
That dois nathing hot spendis yai gudis
That was maid for that haly use
And not to feid ane crunt GttseJ^*
This production having been printed and circulated without David-
eon's knowledge, he was summoned to a justice eyre at Haddington,
where sentence of imprisonment was pronounced against him. He
was, however, soon liberated on bail, in tlie hope that the leniency
thus shown would induce him to retract what he had written, or at
least that his brethren might be prevailed npon to condemn it. But
the greater part of the general assembly, although of the same senti-
ments with Davidson, being afraid of the regent's resentment,
declined to interfere in his favour^ and left him to the vengeance of
the prosecutor. These expectations, then, being disappointed, and
Davidson, finding the intercession even of some of the principal
gentlemen in the country unavailing, and that nothing but a recanta-
tion 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 com-
posed one to the memory of Eobert Campbell of Kinzeancleugh, a
gentleman strongly attached to the reformed religion, and an un-
varying 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 com-
memorated in a poem by him, which although rather defective 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 Christians,
Robert Campbel of the Kinzeanclevgh, and his wife Elizabeth
Campbel ;" and the dedication — " To his loving sister in Christ,
Elizabeth Campbel of Kinzeanclevch."f
" From Edinburgli the 24. of May, 1595. Your )
assured Friend in Christ. J. D. )
" Finding this little Treatise (Sister, dearelie beloved in Christ,)
* " The Moderator enjovned 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.
t This lady was the heiress of these two worthy Christians, after the decease of an
only son.
JOHN DAVIDSON. 235
of late yeares amongst my other Papers, which I made about
twentie yeares and one agoe, Immediatlie after the death of your
godlie Parentes of good memorie, with whom I was most dearlie
acquainted in Christ, by reason of the troble I suffered in those daies
for the good cause, wheriii 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 I
woulde suffer it to come to light, to the stirring up of the zeale of
God's people among us, which nowbeginneth almost to be quenched
in all estaits none excepted. So that the saying of the worthie ser-
vant of God, John Knox (among many other his forespeakings),
proveth true, ' That as the gospel entred among us and was received
with fervencie and heat ; so he feared it should decay and lose the
former bewtie, through coldnes, and lothsomnesse, howbeit (as he
saide many times,) it should not be utterlie overthrowne in Scotland,
til the coming of the Lord Jesus to judgment, in spite of Sathan and
malice of all his slaves.' "
After eulogizing his protector's piety, charity, lenity to his tenants,
and his wisdom and integrity in settling private differences ; 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 were baith of Genealogie :
He of the Shirefs' house of Air
Long noble famous and preclair:
Scho of a gude and godlie stock
Came of the old house of Cesnok 5
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 Mont-
gomery, minister of Stirling, for contumaciously reviving a claim to
the archbishopric of Glasgow, after having solemnly renounced it
in the preceding general assembly. This appointment he executed
with a degree of boldness which not a little surprised the court
party."^" Montgomery, it seems, had made a simoniacal purchase of
the archbishopric of Glasgow from the earl of Lennox, and accord-
ingly, in March, 1582, accompanied by a number of soldiers, he
proceeded 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 replied, " he was placed there by the
kirk, and would give place to none who intruded themselves without
orders." Thereupon much confusion and bloodshed ensued. The
* " Davidson pronounced the sentence of deposition and excommunication ; and
although the court threatened and stormed, it was intimated on the succeeding Sabbath
from the pulpits of Edinburgh and Glasgow, and all the surrounding churches. When
Lennox heard that Davidson had ventured to preach in his own church dn the SaoDath
subsequent to the excommunication, he exclaimed — Cest un petit diable! — He is a little
devil!"— ilf'Cric.
236 SCOTS WORTHIES.
"j^resbytery of Stirling suspended Montgomery, and were supported in
their antliority by the general assembly ; but the earl of Lennox, not
inclined to sulmiit to this opposition, obtained a commission from the
king, to try and bring the offenders to justice. Before, however,
that commission-court met, the earls of Mar and Gowrie, the master
of Olipliant, young Lochleven, <fec., carried the king to Ruthven
castle, and there constrained him to revoke the commission, and to
bani>h the carl of Lennox from the kingdom. But the king, havinjy
afterwards made his escape from his rebellious nobles, banished all
those who had been engaged in the enterprise. Davidson was after-
wards appointed one of the commission sent by the assembly to Stir-
ling, to j'emc»nstrate with the king on account of this measure in
favour of Montgomery. h\ consequence, however, of the fearlessness
witli which he had admonished the king,* to whom the parliament
had given the sole power in all causes, ecclesiastic as well as civil,
and the tyrannous procedure against several of his brethren which
immediately followed, Davidson found it expedient again to make
his escape into England, where he remained for a considerable
time.
Upon his return to Scotland, when the church was enjoying
internal peace, and her ministers were living upon terms of amity
with their brethren in the sister kingdom, employed only in remov-
ing the corruptions which had not been entirely purged away after
the expulsion of the popish intruders ; nay, even when they were en-
gaged 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 declama-
tory sermon which he preached before the parliament, and which
was published immediately after. He represented the Scotch pres-
byterians to be puritans ; classing them with heretics, and styling
them proud, ambitious, covetous, insubordinate, and inquisitorial ;
pests to society ; and called upon all magistrates to restrain and pun-
ish them. " If they" (the puritanical " geese and dogs"), said he,
" will gaggle and make a noise in the daytime without any cause,
I think it very fit that they should be rapt on the shinnes." This
was too much for a man of Davidson's piety and attachment to the
reformation to bear silently. He, therefore, by the consent of his
brethren, published a " protest against the rashness of the calum-
niator, and the reasons of the church declining 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 Eng-
land, and some reasons rendred, why the answere thereunto had not
hitherto come foorth." It concludes — " Farewell, from Edinburgh ;
the 18. of September, 1590. Yours in the Lord. J. D."— The pub-
lication of this reply elevated him very high in the estimation of his
* Davidson told the kinfij that he was present only as a private Christian, and not as
presiHent of the assembly; and, if he would not listen to counsel ; then, said the reformer,
** we must crave help of Him who will hear us."
JOHN DAVIDSON. 237
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 effect-
ing this, Davidson acted the principal 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 Haddington a proposal to that effect, by whom it was
transmitted to the general assembly, at Edinburgh, in the month of
March following, and unanimously approved of. This meeting was
held in the Little church, on the 30th of the same month, and
Davidson was elected moderator. On that occasion he actually
seemed more than man. His deep and humble confessions in
prayer, addressed to the throne of the Almighty, and his powerful
exposure of the defects of the church, both in doctrine and practice,
operated so powerfully upon the minds of the audience, that all
burst into tears ;* and, with one heart, lifting up their 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 thereafter 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 discern 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 in-
sisted on the power which the priests had among the ancient Romans,
in proposing and making the laws ; Davidson refuted the assertion,
contending that they had no vote, although he allowed that they were
present in the senate. " Ah ! where do you find that ?" said the
King. " In Titus Livius," replied Davidson. " Oh ! are you going
from the Scriptures to Titus Livius then?" retorted his majesty.
James Melville, in his Diary, informs us, that on the question being
called for, the king's motion was carried by a majority of ten votes,
— " Mr. Gilbert Brady leading the ring, a drunken Orkney ass, and
the greater number following, all for the bodie, without respect for
the spreit." Davidson being desired to give his vote, refused, and
protested in his own name, and in the name of those who should
* The passages of Scripture which on this occasion he read and discoursed upon, were
the 33d and 34th chapters of Ezekiel. He showed, in a very affecting manner, that the
design for which they had met was to confess their sin, and firmly resolve to forsake it.
In this exercise he was evidently assisted by the Holy Spirit. After prayer, he pxeached
from Luke xii. 22, having the same assistance given him.
238 . SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 Davidson, " but without prejudice to any protes- :
tation made or to be made." lie then gave his protestation, which,
after having been passed from one to another, was at last laid down
before the clerk. The king taking it up, and reading it, showed it
to the moderator and others about, and at last put it in his pocket.*
This protest and letter were the occasion of farther trouble to him.
For, in May following, he was charged to compear before the coun-
cil on the 26th, and answer for the same, and was by order of the
king committed prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh ; but, on account
of the infirm state of his health, the place of his confinement was
changed to his own manse. Afterwards he was allowed to perform
the duties of his ofl[ice in his own parish, and after discharging these
for some years, during which he sufl^ered much from bad health, he
died at Preston-pans, 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 Ilostihus EcclesicB Ghristi
(of the enemies of Christ's kirk), in which Row says, " he affirmes
that the erecting of bishops in this kirk is the most subtile tiling to
destroy religione that could ever be devised." In 1602, he published
a catechism entitled, " Some Helpes for young Scollers in Chris-
tianity," which was reprinted in 1708, with a very curious preface
by Mr. William Jameson, professor of ecclesiastical history at Glas-
gow, in which he exposes the forgery of Mr. Robert Calder, who, by
a pretended quotation from this catechism, had attempted to propa-
gate the falsehood that Davidson had recanted his presbyterian prin-
ciples before his death. Archbishop Spottiswood, too, embraced
every opportunity of speaking disrespectfully of Davidson, particu-
larly at the time he was prosecuted at the king's instance ; asserting,
among other calumnies, that it was his custom when brought to trou-
ble, " to flee away, and lurk a-while, till his peace was again made."
Davidson was a Christian hero of a very diiferent 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 himself; 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, indefatigable zeal in the cause of
the reformation, and strongly characterized by a boldness and hon-
esty, for which almost all the early reformers were remarkable.
* See this protest, and a letter sent by him to the assembly of 1601, in Calderwood,
pp, 420 and 450.
ANDREW MELVILLE. ^ 239
Davidson particularly deserves notice on account ot 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 w^as erected for teaching the three learned languages, and he
bequeathed all his heritable and moveable property for its support.
He showed in some instances that he was possessed, if not of the
spirit of prophecy, at least of a high degree of sagacity. Calder-
wood 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 abominable dress, as he was destined to suc-
ceed 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 de-
posed from their charges. The synod, however, aw^arded them a
slighter punishment ; and when they were called in to receive their
sentence, Davidson called out to them, " Come in, you pretty foot-
ball men, the synod ordains you only to be rebuked." Then ad-
dressing the meeting, he said, " And now^, brethren, let me tell you
what reward you shall get for your lenity : these two men shall
trample on your necks, and the necks of the w^hole ministry of Scot-
land.' The one was afterwards archbishop of St. Andrew's, and the
other archbishop of Glasgow.
ANDREW MELVILLE.
This eminent saint and servant of God, inferior only to Knox in the
: great w^ork of the reformation, w^as born at Baldovy, near Montrose,
: on the 1st of August, 1545. Both of his parents died when he was
i only two years of age ; but his elder brother Eichard, to whom the
i estate of Baldovy fell upon the demise of his father, took upon
I himself the nurture and tuition of the subject' of our memoir.* In
■*The name of Melville is mentioned in Scottish charters as early hs the twelfth century.
The family are supposed, with great probability, to have been of Anglo-Norman lineage.
Of the Melvilles of Baldovy, Richard Melville, the father of Andrew, mentions the laird
of Dysart, as the chief of their branch of the family. Melville always wrote his name
, Melvinus in Latin, and was therefore often called Melvin in English. Hence some have
240 SCOTS WORTHIES.
his juvenile years, too, he was prreatly indebted to the maternal
tenderness and affection of his sister-in-law, wlio treated him npon
all occasions as one of her own children. Bein*^ of a delicate
constitntion, and mnch in the company of this amiable woman, he
ingratiated himself into her affections, by his docile and obedient
behaviour, to such a degree, that after the fondest caresses, she
would frequently exclaim, " God fi:ive me another lad like thee, and
syne take me to his rest." To' the end of his life he retained a
grateful sense of her attentions ; and, often, when his mind was
relaxed from the intensity of severe study, he expressed a peculiar
pleasure in recurring to the domestic scenes of that happy family.
His brother, perceiving him to be a boy of quick understanding,
resolved to cultivate 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 pre-eminently distinguished in future life. But, to
his pious brother, who had embraced the protestant faith several
years before Andrew's birth, and who aftervvaixls became minister to
the parish of Maritoun. he chiefly owes his celebrity for his adherence
to the principles of the reformed religion, 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 gynmastic exercises, which
had the 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 exercises, 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
Erskine 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 language with the greatest
eagerness. From the same person, too, he acquired a knowledge 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
concluded that his proper name was Melvin, and not Melville; but without any other
authority than the above. This variety in the appellation occurs in the earliest charters
granted by the family, — viz., '• Galafridus de Mailvyn" grants to the church of Dunfermline
^'ecclesiam de Mailvyn^^'* with common pasture in "villa de Mailvyn." In another—
"Galfridus de Malevin grants" "ecclesiam de Malevill f^ and in this charter occur the
names of ''Willi, de McdeviW and Gregorius de MalvilU^ The name was anciently
written in the vernacular language MelvU, Melvill. now modernized into the French
«»rthography — Melville.
ANDREW MELVILLE. 241
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 contemporaries, young Melville became an alumnus of the
university of St. Andrew's, in the year 1559, and was entered in the
college of St. Mary. The smallness of his stature, and the delicate
conformation of his body, formed a singular contrast with his
admirable acquirements in literature*. The writings of Aristotle were
then the only prelections 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,
however, 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
gentleman used frequently to invite him to his house, and converse
with him upon the subject of his studies; and, so much pleased was
he with the shrewdness and accuracy 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 amicable terms till the
day of his death. Doubts have been expressed whether Melville
took his degrees at this university or not. His nephew, James
Melville, asserts that he did. This, however, is not authenticated
by the records of St. Mary's ; but these are understood, from some
circumstance with which we are not acquainted, to be defective
about this period.
During Melville's stay at St. Andrew's, George Buchanan returned
from abroad ; and it has been supposed, from an expression used by
Melville in a poem addressed to this celebrated man, in which he
calls him " his preceptor and master of the muses," that he had
actually studied under Buchanan. This, however, is doubtful, and
therefore has not met with general assent. Perhaps all that is meant
by the term " preceptor" is, that as Melville himself was passionately
* James Melville in his Diary says, — " Our regent 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."
16
242 SCOTS WORTHIES.
addicted to poetry, and wrote verses of no mean character, but con-
sidering Buchanan to be very much his superior in tliat art, he
merely styles him so, in this respect. Sir Thomas Randolph, upon
more than one occasion, when addressing Buchanan, uses the term
" my maister," but he does not confine these words to him only ; and
therefore it is ])robable, that notliing more was intended than to
convey an acknowledgment of literary superiority.
So very celebrated were Melville's literary 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 attach-
ment to the reformed religion, celebrates his talents and reputation in
a strain of great sublimity, in a short Latin poem, which being alto-
gether unintelligible, to the mere English reader, we give below in a
free translation."^
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 of 1564, and after conside-
rable hinderances, not unattended by danger, arrived in Paris.
"Without loss of time, he recommenced his studies in the university
of that city, having been enrolled in the Germanic nation, which
included Scotland, England, and Ireland. Scaliger, Pontanus, and
others, inform us that it was no unusual thing in those days to find
from ten thousand to thirty thousand students in that university. It
was then in a most flourishing state ; enjoying a peaceful repose
between the civil wars of 1563, and 1567, which had dispersed
many of its professors and students, who had taken part in the
contest ; but who were now happily restored to their former situa-
tions. Turnebusf was professor of Greek, and Melville had the good
fortune to attend the last course of lectures delivered by that distin-
guished' man. Mercerus and Quinquarboreus jointly occupied the
chair of Hebrew and Chaldee. Under these able teachers he applied
himself assiduously to the study of these languages, of which the
professors in the Scottish universities were at that time ignorant.
From Peter Pamus, too, professor of " Poman eloquence," he
acquired a more acute knowledge of the Latin language, and to him
he was indebted for that happy mode of teaching which he after-
wards so successfully practised in his native countr3^ Besides
Melville, almost all the greatest geniuses of that age studied under
* " 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 ;
Or the grace of 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."
+ ft has been supposed that Tiirnebus was of Scottish extraction, and that his proper
name was Tmirncbacuf, or Turnbull. Dempster says he was of the same family as William
Turnbull, bishop of Glasgow, who officiated in the cathedral from MdS to 1454, and
another writer affirms that he was of the family of the Turnbulls in Liddesdale.
ANDREW MELVILLE. 243
Ramus, with one of whom, regent Moray, prior of St. Andrew's, we
are more immediately concerned. Besides these already mentioned,
Melville received instructions in mathematics from Paschasius
Hamelius, Petrus Forcatellus, Jacobus Carpentarius, and Joannes
Scalignacus. It is probable .that he also took lessons in Hebrew from
the latter, as he bore a very high reputation for his acquaintance
with Jewish and Pabbinical learning, and it appears he was one of
the royal professors of that language, at the time Melville was at
Paris. He also attended the lectures of Ludovicus Duretus, who
was the favourite physician of Charles IX. and Henry III. During
his residence in France he became acquainted with the intrigues of
the Jesuits, who about that time had opened a college, evidently for
the purpose of obtaining the ascendancy in the management of the
education of youth, — a circumstance which stimulated him after-
wards 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 insiduous 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 education." 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 undoubted authority, that this prohibition continued in force
even so late as the sixteenth century, and that it was only removed
by an edict of parliament, on the 8th day of May, 1679. As there
was therefore 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 immedi-
ately on his arrival at Poictiers, 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 Mel-
ville'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
rivalship 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 communi-
cation— a gift which comparatively 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 arch-
bishop Spottiswood said of him, " Redit in patriam Andreas Mel-
mnus bonis Uteris excultus, et trium linguarum, quarum eo seculo
ignorantim^ ille famam et tantum non admirationem apud omnes
pejperit^ callentissimusy^
* Andrew Melville revisits his country, adorned with all the elegance of polite literature.
244 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 found an asylum in the family of a coun-
sellor of parliament, as tutor to his only son. The town was besieged
in the following 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 besieger's camp,
which had pierced the house and inflicted a mortal wound. During
the short interval that elapsed between this and his death, the
amiable youth employed his time in comforting his afflicted parent
with the consolations of religion, and expired in his tutor's arms,
pronouncing in Greek the affecting words of the Apostle — " Master,
I have finished my coui-se !" It is related of J\telville, that he never
afterwards alluded to this mournful scene without shedding tears.
Although he had sedulously avoided giving offence to the catholics,
with whom he had daily intercourse, yet he was not altogether free
from being suspected of having a bias to the protestant faith. He
had been observed reading the Bible, by the officer who commanded
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 Ilugonot,'!' and even hinted at placing
him under confinement. Melville became indignant, and, arming
himself with all possible expedition, took a horse from the stable,
and was preparing to mount, when the officer requested him to stop.
" No," replied Melville, " I will this day show myself to be as hon-
ourable and as brave a man as you." The officer, afraid lest he
might lose his commission, if his rashness should be reported to his
superior, employed the most urgent entreaties, and ever after behaved
towards Melville with the most marked respect.
"No sooner was the siege raised, than Melville, in company with a
young Frenchman, prepared to bid adieu to France ; and, without
Sassports, leaving all his books behind him, except a small Hebrew
lible which he had slung in his belt, set out on foot, and by stnking
out new paths for themselves, they fortunately passed the Gallic
frontiers without interruption. Geneva 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 suspi-
cion ; and their appearance certainly bespoke them to be in reality
w^hat 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 hia
letters of introduction to Beza, that the gates were opened for their
admission. Melville at once attracted the notice of that distinguished
— ^being profoundly skilled in the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin languages ; in this age ot
general ignorance, he has, by universal assent, merited not only high fame, but the nobler
tribute of admiration.
t The French catholics were accustomed at this time to apply both this name and that
of Christandins to the protestauts. — Buloevs.
ANDREW MELVILLE.
245
scholar, who immediately recommended him to his colleagues, as a
person well qualified to undertake the duties of professor of humanity,
which chair happened at the time to be vacant. He was accordingly
put upon trial ; and after a long and severe examination in Yirgil
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 seasonable relief. From the strict habits of economy which
he uniformly practised, this enabled him to appear with respectability,
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 he was afterwards so justly celebrated ; for
whilst he strictly attended to the duties of his own class, he waited
also with all the humility of a scholar upon the instructions of such
of his colleagues, as could add to his stock of literary knowledge.
Under Cornelius Bertram, a man of profound talents and general
erudition, he acquired a knowledge of Syriac, which before that time
had been bat little known in Europe ; and with Franciscus Portus, a
native of Candia, he perfected 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
conviction, 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 Scot% ws larbari^ docebitis nos Grwcos
j^Tonunciationem nostra linguce^ scilicet P'' *
Of all the learned men in Geneva, Melville felt the strongest
attachment to Eeza ; for, besides attending upon his public prelec-
tions, 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
which he at all times expressed to the ecclesiastical constitution of
the land of his birth, which upon all proper occasions formed a
delightful subject of conversation to the two reformers. Beza was
partial to Scotland and to Scotsmen. But " the massacre of the
protestaijts," says Dr. M'Crie, " which commenced at Paris on St.
Bartholomew's Day, 1572, and which wrought such wo to France,
was the occasion 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 hundred and twenty French ministers were at
one time in the city. The academy overfl.owed 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
* You Scots, you barbarians, will teach us how to pronounce our own language
forsooth !
<246 SCOTS WORTHIES.
at this time tliat Melville became acquainted with Scaliger, and
Hottoman, and Bonnefoy, French refugees, all of whom were
distinguished for their talenta and erudition, and all obtained public
appointments. Scaliger was considered the first scholar of the age
lie 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 Eoman law under Ilottoman, 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, fortunately
for his country", the time drew nigh when he was to take leave of
Geneva. A Scottish gentleman with whom Melville had been
acquainted at St. Andrew's, travelling as tutoh to Alexander
Campbell, bishop of Brechin, visited this city in his continental
tour, and representing to Melville the distracted state of his native
country, and the urgent solicitations of his friends that he should
DOW return home, he imniediately formed the resolution of complying
with their request, and devoting to the service of that countiy —
hallowed to his remembrance bj every tie of kindred and early
piety — the knowledge and experience which he had acquired abroad.
Without delay he waited upon the superiors of the academy and his
colleagues, respectfully requesting their concurrence in resigning his
oflace. 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 Assembly, 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 knowledge, 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 Scotchman, who died at Geneva.
pe left that "seat of genuine piety," as he himself expresses it, in
the spring of 1574, taking tlie route of Lyons, Francliecompt^, 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 horseback, in consequence of
having sprained his foot, with " Whence are you ?" — " From Scot-
land," replied Melville. — " O ! you Scots are all'llugonots." — " Ilugo-
Dots ! what's that? we do not know such people in Scotland." — "lou
have no mass," said the sentinel — " vous vous n'avez pas la Mes'.er —
^'' '^0 raess P^ retorted Melville smiling; "our children in Scotland
ANDREW MELVILLE. 24:^
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 w^ith a Jesuit, the issue of which might
have proved prejudicial 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
Ilaly burton, 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, however, was of short duration. Both St. Andrew's and
Glasgow contended for the honour of having him appointed as prin-
cipal of their universities ; but he preferred" the latter. On his way
to Glasgow, he was introduced to the young king at Stirling, then
only nine years of age. Here he found George Buchanan engaged
in writing his History of Scotland, whom he consulted regarding the
plan of education 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 uo place in Europe comparable to
Glasgow for good lettei's 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 one of his pupils,
" that he learned more of Mr. Andrew Melville, cracking and
playing, for understanding of the authors which he taught in
the school, than by all his commentators." 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 oflier 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 occasions. It may be sufficient
here, to mention 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
ministry, 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 renounce Christianity altogether ; which
turned out exactly as Melville had suspected. He soon after, from
one step to another, became an adherent of the church of Eome, and
248 SCOTS WORTHIES.
wrote bitterly against the protestant religion. " Indeed," says
M'Crie, " all his tergiversations, political and religious, were marked
by uncommon want of principle." The other instance refers to the
state of discipline thcu in practice in the university ; viz., that of
corporal chastisement, which, although Melville himself never
inflicted, he 6U})ported firmly among the regents under his superin-
tendence. Upon one occasion, a son of Lord Ilerries had been
enticed from his studies, by the dissolute son of a wealthy citizen,
and had been reported to the principal. In compliance with his
duty, and to restrain othei-s 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 penitence, 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 sw^ord 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 difticulty restrained the students
from fighting in defence of their master ; for, " although verie hot in
all [public] questions, yet when it twitched his particular, no man
could crab him, contrar to his common custom." As soon as this
came to the ears of Lord Ilerries, 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 immediately forgave the culprit. " If they would have forgive-
ness," said he to one of the professors upon another occasion, " let
them crave it humbly, and they shall have it ; but ere this prepara-
tive 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."
Melville was satisfied in his own mind that prelacy had no foun-
dation in Scripture — he had witnessed the happy effects of presby
terianism both in France and Geneva, — he had taught that the
words hishojy and presbyter are used " interchangeably'^ in the New
Testament, and that those who pleaded for the divine origip of epis-
copacy, 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 certainly existed
among the early pastors of the church. Being a member of the first
General Assembly that had met since his appoir^tment in the univer-
sity 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 disputations both public and private — " And in-
deid," says James Melville, " that mater cost him exceeding great
peans, bathe in mynd, body, and gear, during the space ol five or
sax yair, with the gean of the regent Erl of Morton and his bischopea
ANDREW MELVILLE. 249
utter indignation. Yit witli the wonderful assistance of God, he
bure it out till the abolishing of bischopes and establishing of the
presbyteries according to the word of God, wharby he gatt the name
of the slinger out of bischops." That Melville was at any time vio-
lent 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 charac-
terized by a deliberative wisdom, calmness of temper, and una-
nimity, that both astonished and greatly disappointed their enemies.
In 15 77, Melville and other seven were nominated by the As-
sembly, at the request of the regent, to attend a convocation of pro-
testants 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, l^ot 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 preserv-
ing 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 oV 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 w^ell as in it. Let God be glorified : it will
not be in your power either to hang or exile His truth." In refer-
ence to this and 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 ferful form ; but for all he never jarged
a jot ather frae the substance of the cause, or forme of proceding
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 noto-
riety, and consequently measures were taken for reforming and new-
modelling the same. A new theological college was agreed upon
for St. Andrew's ; and it was resolved to translate Melville thither,
and to install Smeton in his room.
Melville entered upon his charge at St. Andrew's in December,
1580, and the persons appointed by the general assembly to attend
him were Sir Andrew Ker of Tandonside, the lairds of Braid and
Lundie, with James Lawson and John Dury, says Dr. M'Crie ; and
Calderwood adds, Mr. Kobert 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 pre-
250 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ceptor lie himself had been. lie appointed him professor of oriental
languages. His own lectures here excited universal admiration,
and were attended bj even some of the professors, who, though
teachers themselves, were not ashamed to receive instiniction from
tliis justly celebrated man. But, enough we should suppose has
already been said to establish the literary reputation of Melville, and
therefore 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. Andrew's, in 1582, Melville
was chosen moderator, 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 w'ill 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 Mel-
ville was one of a deputation appointed to present the same to his
majest}^, who was at the time living at Perth. His nephew had
been premonished to advise his uncle not to appear, 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 message, and at the same time entreated him not to make
light of the friendly premonition, 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 stern countenance, cried aloud in a tone of defiance, " Who
dare subscribe these treasonable articles ?" — " We dare," said Mel-
ville, 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 commis-
sioners they were at liberty to depart.
Melville, besides his academical duties, preached frequently in
vacant jjulpits, 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 tlie 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, nmttering his dissatisfac-
tion with the preacher. Placards were affixed to the new college
^ate, threatening to set fire to the principal's lodging, to bastinade
ANDREW MELVILLE. 251
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 wherever he found vice to exist, there
he exposed 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 discourse. The suspected writer was sitting before him, whom
Melville characterized as " a Frenchified, Italianized, jolly gentle-
man, Avho had polluted many marriage-beds, and wlio 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 opj^ortunity 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 preceding
month."
Not in the least intimidated, Melville obeyed the citation with the
utmost consciousness of innocence, and answered to the charge ;
solemnly protesting, that neither in that sermon, nor upon any other
occasion, had he ever spoken disrespectfully of his majesty. To this
effect lie had been furnished with attestations by the university, the
town-council, the kirk session, and the presbytery of St. Andrew's.
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 tried at
St. Andrew's wdiere 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
€lder receive not an accusation, but before two or three witnesses" —
that he should be confronted with his accuser ; and, if the charges
brought against him turned out false, that he should have
redress for the calumnies. Having stated these objections, the
council delayed farther procedure 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 commissioners from the univer-
sity and presbytery, each determined to plead for their respective
rights ; but both were denied admission. Prepared for what he
rightly conjectured would be the issue, he gave in his protest, — the
reading of which threw the king and Arran into such a violent fit
of passion, as to alarm those who were waiting without for the
decision. Melville's spirit rose with the emergency, — and, boldly
defending his procedure, he unslung his small llebrew Bible which
he always carried suspended from his girdle, throwing it down upon
the table, saying — '' These are my instructions and authority , see if
252 SCOTS WORTHIES.
yon can sLow me that I liave acted contraiy to my injunctions !"
The cliancellor took up the book, and, observing that it was in
a laniruage of which he was ignorant, said to his majesty —
" Sire, he scorns your majesty and tlie council !" — " I scorn not, my
lords ; but I am earnest and zealous for the cause of Christ and his
cliurch !" — Every art was used to induce him to withdraw his
protest ; but this he peremptorily refused. Judgment was therefore
passed upon him for having declined the competency of the council,
and fur behaving " irreverently" in their presence ; and he was
sentenced to be imprisoned in Edinburgh castle during the king's
]»leasure. The place of his confinement was afterwards commuted
fur Bhickness, a solitary and damp fortress in the county of Linlith-
gow, on the southern banks of the Forth, kept by one of the
chancelh^r's under) ings.
Melville's friends were now at a loss what to advise. All seemed
perplexed but himself, and he therefore laid his plans in such a way
that his real intentions were entirely concealed. He made pi'epar
rations for his departure with all expedition, and dined with a ])arty
of ministers in Edinburgh, desiring them, with great apparent
cheerfulness, 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 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 permission, 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 w^aiting with a troop of horse, to honour him with an
equestrian convoy to his place of confinement.
His absence in England turned out afterwards to be of great
benefit to the suffering church at home. Being beyond the reach of
his enemies, he could watch the proceedings of the court, and its
epaissaries, — one of whom, Patrick Adamson, a vacillating, unprin-
cipled creature, began now to show his craftiness. Tlie political
atmosphere was beginning to darken, and it was evident that the
storm would ere long burst with awful vengeance. Adamson had
represented to the French presbyterian ministers in London, and to
the churches in Geneva and Zurich, the principles and behaviour of
his brethren in a very false and odious light ; but, fortunately,
Melville had obtained copies of these letters, and without delay he
wrote and contradicted Adamson's statements. It is not difficult to
see that by these means Adamson thought to obtain such a concur-
rence 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 residence 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 presbytery, suppressing the
General Assembly, and consigning the whole ecclesiastical govern-
ment to the will of the king, without whose permission no Assembly
could be held. Kot a few of the faithful ministers were cast into
prison for their resistance ; many of them gave up their livings, and
ANDREW MELVILLE. 253
witlidrew 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 reply 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 esca]3e his own share of abuse.
In July, 1584, Angus, Mar, and the master of Glammis, wrote to
Melville to meet them at I^ewcastle, 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 accom-
panied 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 JSTovember,
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
Mack acts^ as they were called ; but he met with strenuous opposi-
tion, even from quarters where he least expected it. The exiled
lords having regained their temporalities bestirred themselves but
very slovenly in the cause, and the king therefore, emboldened by
their imbecility, declared that he would resist any alteration of the
existing ecclesiastical law, as interfering with his personal preroga-
tive, 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, expostulations, 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 recep-
tion was far from being courteous ; and in the course of the inter-
view, they were shocked at the iteration of language, hy which they
had been frequently before assailed by Lennox and Arran —
" language," says Dr. M'Crie, " not more disrespectful to them, than
indecorous from the mouth of a king." 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, adding,
that it should be as authentic as an act of parliament. ]!!^othing
254 SCOTS WORTHIES.
farther could be obtained at the time, than that all ministers and
masters of colleges were at liberty to return to tlieir places and pro-
fessions ; but, on the other liand, an act had just passed through
parliament, dooming to death — " to be executed with the utmost
rii^our" — all who should publiclj^ or privatelj^ " speak to the reproach
of his majesty's person or government, or misconstrue his proceed-
ings"— prohibiting at the same time, '' all leagues or bands among
the subjects, without his majesty's privity and consent, under what-
ever pretext they should be made.' A damson, too, laboured inces-
santly to keep the breach open, and to incense his majesty still more
against Melville. Discoursing one day with the king upon the
subject, says Calderwood, 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 ; but at the solicitation
of the university of St. Andrew's — 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 favour, and ordered to resume
his duties in the university.
Melville's re-admission to favour now induced the General Assem-
bly to choose him their moderator in the Assembly which met in
June, 1587, and also to nominate him their commissioner to the
approaching parliament. In virtue of his office as moderator, he
was at that time of signal service, not only to the church but to the
nation. The kingdom was in a state of alarm at the threatened
invasion of the Spanish Armada, and the king was amusing himself
in writing a commentary upon the book of Revelation, to prove that
the Pope was Anticlirist, 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 landing ; and a general
massacre of the protestants was to have summed up the catastrophe.
Under these circumstances, Melville felt himself warranted to summon
aj9/'c> re nata meeting of the 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 providential disper-
sion of that formidable fleet is known to all, and fortunately no
sacrifices were required. This, however, had not the effect of
silencing the resM<^s and turbulent spirit of the papists. Bent upon
ANDREW MELVILLE. 255
supremacy, they busied themselves in fomenting a new conspirac}^,
and even 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 jjost. Having called another meeting of
Assembly, he was re-elected moderator, in which assisted by Thomas
Craig and other distinguished lawyers, such measures were adopted
as enabled the government to frustrate the intentions of the insurrec-
tionists, 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 yjresbyterian-
ism, yet conceiving a high opinion of the talent, integrity, and pru-
dence of the three reformers, lent a favourable ear to their ad-
monitions. Bruce had particularly gained upon the king's good
opinion, and he acted in all things in perfect harmony 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 present at the coronation of the
queen, on the 17th of May, 1590 ; and immediately after the crown
was placed upon her head, he pronounced a Latin poem which he
had composed 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 Stephaniskion, a copy of which the learned reader will find in
Delicim Poetarum Scotorum^ tom. 2. pp. 71 — 76. Of this poem,
Lipsius, after he had read it, exclaimed — Eevera Andreas Melmnus
est serio doctus j and Scaliger, in a letter to the author, wrote, J^os
talia non jpossumus.^ 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 pacitic. Melville de-
fended himself and his party with considerable warmth ; and, upon
being interrupted 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 individual beneath his ma-
jesty." The king said that Moray, Knox, and Buchanan could be
defended only by seditious and traitorous theologues. Melville
* " In fact, Andrew Melville is an admirable scholar." — •* I could not do the like 1"
256 SCOTS WORTHIES.
replied, that tliey were the men who had set the crown upon his
head, and tlierefore deserved better treatment. His majesty said
that his crown came to liini by succession, and was not given to him
by any man. "But they were the instruments (replied Melville);
and whosoever informs your majesty sinistrously of these men,
neither loves you nor the commonwealth." To such a pitch of
excitement had the popular indignation now risen, in consequence
of the assassination of the earl of Moray, that 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
the state, as well as by the church. Melville 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
tliis new situation he conducted himself with that firmness, decision,
and prudence, as supreme, which had formerly characterized him,
when subordinate. For several years he acted as ruling elder, and
exerted himself to the utmost, in filling up the kirk session, with
men of piety, talent, and influence. In those days the office of
elder was attended with much labour and personal inconvenience.
Besides giving attendance upon the weekly meetings of session,
they had to assist the minister in examining the congregation before
the communions, take cognizance of profane swearers, sabbath-
breakers, violators of the fifth commandment, intemperate persons,
slanderers, backbiters, as well as 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. Andrew's, there were only five
members of presbytery; and now the number had increased to
sixteen. Among these were David Black and Eobert Wallace, two
of the most faithful and laborious ministers of any age. The afiairs
of the kingdom were still in a very disorderly state ; James was
still the same babyish creature as formerly ; — still in leading strings,
— and tlie papists taking advantage of his imbecility, were in cor-
respondence with the king of Spain, to land thirty thousand men in
Scotland, for the purpose of invading Ejigland. James himself was
strongly suspected of being in the plot ; and, upon the authority of
Calderwood, we mention, that upon the discovery of the conspiracy,
by the interception of letters, one of them was suppressed because
it " touched the king with knowledge and approbation of the traf-
fiquing, and promise of assistance." And, indeed, his majesty's
subsequent conduct tended greatly to strengthen the suspicion. It
ANDPxEW MELVILLE. 257
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 counteracting the plot. They, how-
ever, 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 measures which they found
necessary to adopt, in the mean time, were not, however, altogether
to the king's mind ; for, the first step which they deemed it
advisable to adopt, was, to excommunicate the popish lords ; and
this he tried every method to counteract. Melville fell particularly
under the royal displeasure for the part he had taken in the affair ;
but at a convention of estates which was held at Linlithgow, in
October, 1593, he told the king his sentiments very freely, — boldly
reproving him for the manner in which he had spoken of the prin-
cipal 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 for-
ward and not dissemble, and he would prove them traitors to the
crown and kingdom 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 excom-
munication 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 correspondence with the
Spanish government. At this assembly the king and his 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 unawed; they were in a
state of open rebellion ; 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 pre-
sence of the lords of articles, insisted upon speedy measures being
adopted 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
parliament.
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 command 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 the king's troops began
IT
258 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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
Jiot to proceed to extremities against the insurgents ; 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 prin-
cipal 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 tlie ministers of St. Andrew's, whose name we have
already introduced, had very nearly involved him in serious difficul-
ties. 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 com-
plaint 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 de-
clared 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 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 pre-
cursor Knox, who " feared not the face of man," he craved permis-
sion to be heard upon a point of the most serious importance. Lib-
erty 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 judi-
cature 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 re-
peatedly guilty of treason 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 jus-
tice. " 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 presumption
in Melville, the king attempted to silence him ; but our reformer
was not to be so overawed ; wherefore the king, addressing 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 immediately sent
ANDREW MELVILLE. 25&
for him to a private audience, where, after unrestrained but friendly
communication on both sides, Melville was dismissed with the great-
est courtesy.
We have now come to another memorable era in the history of
. the church (1596) ; and, it is pleasant to observe, that as her diffi-
culties began to thicken, so did our reformer's vigilance and courage
begin to be still more conspicuous. The forfeited lords had secretiy
returned to the country — the Scottish priests abroad were in close
communication with the king of Spain, who was still bent upon
invading England — James was aware of all this, and he remained
in a state of listless inaction — and the country was in the greatest
alarm, lest perhaps the popish lords should obtain a pardon, nay —
bo 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. Huntley had made offers to the gov-
ernment, and a meeting of the privy council was held at Falkland,
to consider these. The more moderate of the clergy were also sum-
moned to attend, but Melville was among the uninvited. Conceiv-
ing however that he had a right to be present, as a commissioner
from the General Assembly, he appeared along with the rest of his
orethren ; 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 convention ; and I charge you and
your estates in their name, that you favour not their enemies, nor
go about to make citizens of those who have traitorously sought to
betray their country to the cruel Spaniard, to the overthrow of
Christ's kingdom."* Here he was ordered by his majesty to with-
I draw, which he did, but not before his words had the happy effect
I of encouraging the other ministers to hold out, and resist the pro-
! posals of the court. A convention of the estates being soon after
I called at Dunfermline to take the matter again into 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 resolutions of the
privy council into effect, should not be violated. Their petition,
however was thrown out, and the Falkland measures confirmed and
ratified.
But the General Assembly were not to be outdone even by this.
Without delay a commission was appointed to go to Falkland, and
lay their grievances before the king. Being graciously admitted to
private audience, they began through James Melville, their president,
to exhort the king to consider what he was doing, and to beware of
i the consequences th^t would follow from the steps he was pursuing.
' Scarcely, however, had he opened his speech, when the king began
I 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
i unwarrantable and groundless fears. The president was i '^"'^ceeding
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
• M'Crie's Life of Melville.
260 SCOTS WORTHIES.
warmth of bis 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 aanger both of your life and crown, and along with you the
country and the church of God are like to goto wreck, for not telling
you the truth, and giving you faithful counsel, we must discharge
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
Jesus the King of the church, whose subject king James the Sixth
is, and of whose kingdom 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 kingdom, 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 a/renotthe 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 tc
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 dischai-ge 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 youi
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
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 eaually 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—
whereas 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 ignorance of the return of the popish lords \ and assured the
ANDREW MELVILLE. 261
commissioners that no favour should be shown them nntil the churcli
was satisfied. But James was master of finesse, and his future
conduct plainly evinced that he spoke with insincerity.
Melville took his departure from Edinburgh on the 15th of Decem-
ber, and of course was not present at the much-talked of feud between,
the octavians and cubiculars^ as the parties were called, and which
has been much exaggerated by almost all writers. This tumult,
however, was the cause of James issuing a proclamation that all the
courts of justice should from that time be transferred to Perth ; and
that no Assembly, synod, or presbytery, should be held in Edin-
burgh. A meeting of the estates and General Assembly was
summoned by the king, to be held in February at Perth, to consider
the state of affiiirs ; 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
submit to any sacrifice — even to lay down his life for it, if necessary ;
and therefore, that he might avoid even the semblance of submitting
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 appearance
there among the rest ; but before the hour of meeting, James Melville
was sent for to advise his uncle to return home, for fear of the king's
displeasure. To this his reply was, that it would be to no purpose,
for he knew well, that his uncle would submit to death, rather than
act contrary to what he conceived to be his duty. Melville and his
nephew were both desired to wait upon the king next day ; and, says
James Melville in his diary, they were at first both very calm, but
when my uncle began to speak his mind freely, the king became hot
and furious — " and there they heckled on, till all the house and
close baith heard." At this meeting also, James, by the help of the
northern ministers gained so far upon the assembly as to get fourteen
ministers nominated, to advise with him " in all affairs concerning
the weal of the church, and entertainment of peace and obedience to
his Majesty within his realm." The king's real intention in this was
to get quit of presbyterianism altogether, under the pretence of
arranging regarding the ministers of Edinburgh and St. Andrew's,
262 SCOTS WORTHIES.
providing ministers for vacant cbiirches, and allocating stipends for
the whole throughout the kingdom; although he had artfully
concealed this from the Assembly.
James now began to rule with a high hand, and, by virtue of his
assumed prerogative, summoned the presbytery of St. Andrew's to
appear before him at Falkland ; and there, in opposition to all their
remonstrances, he restored to his ministerial office and living, a
minister who had been deposed for immoralities. Not content with
this, attended by his privy counsellors, he visited St. Andrew's with
the intention of ejecting the ministers, and placing the university
imder such subjugation as might deter them from thwarting him in
the schemes which he was meditating : 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 inter-
ference, 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 rojSil persecution.
And, so indeed it happened. Every method was tried to intrap our
reformer. The king dreaded him more than all the other ministers
in the kingdom ; and, therefore, to get him out of the way was the
grand aim of James and his party. At the visitation of the
university which took place at this time, a long catalogue of
complaints was handed in to the king, from persons whose displea-
sure he had incurred ; but from all these Melville cleared himself so
satisfactorily, that even the tortuous mind of James could find
nothing plausible enough whereon to found an accusation. It
was however necessary to visit him with some mark of royal
censure, and therefore he was, to suit the king's purposes, degraded
from the Rectorship of the college — an office which he had held for
seven years, with much honour to himself, and great usefulness to
the seminary. It was easy for James to find pretexts for this
measure ; but his main object was to get Melville debarred from
attending the church courts, where he had always been a sharp
thorn in the king's side ; and this he attempted to effect by enacting
a regulation, that no doctor or regent, teaching only theology or
philosophy, 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
lie 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, hceCy
hocy to young men and boys.
At the General Assembly held at Dundee, in 1588, Melville mad©
ANDREW MELVILLE. 263
Ms appearance, notwithstanding the restrictions under which he had
been laid at the royal visitation at St. Andrews's ; but when his name
was called, his majesty objected, and declared that he would permit
no business to be done, until Melville had withdrawn. Melville
defended himself w^ith his w^onted 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 minister 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 interrupted, however, Melville judged it prudent to
retire ; but not until he had delivered 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 w^as 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 dissat-
isfied was the king with the meeting held at Falkland after these
conferences, that the general assembly summoned to meet at Aber-
deen was put off sine die. Melville could neither be deterred by
threats, nor allured by fair promises from watching this momentous
cpiestion ; 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 clergymen 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 parliament 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 sincerity, than promotion w4th 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 I" " Then let Christ, the King of the
church, avenge her wrongs, as he has done before !" — ^The third
264: SCOTS WORTHIES.
measure, " the Jeuomination of the voter in parliament," gave rise
to a lung 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 hisJiop would satisfy. " Very
well," said Melville, " I grant the name of hishop to be scriptural,
certainly ; but I would propose to prefix to it, an epithet which is
scriptural also, and in this 1 am supported by the apostle Peter, — I
would christen them husy-hishops^ because they interfere with matters
totally unconnected with their office as ministers of Christ !"
Kesuming his gravity, however, he said that the church of Scotland
had decided, that no idea of superiority was attached to the word
hishop in the New Testament ; but that it was applied indiscriminately
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 of the things of this world, than of the things
that be of God.
All eyes were now bent upon the General Assembly that was to
meet at Montrose, 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 was never the like before." Melville was returned by
the presbytery of St. Andrew's 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, com-
manding his immediate appearance. Nothing intimidated, he obeyed
the summons ; but scarcely had he been introduced, when James, in
an imperious tone, demanded why he was so troublesome, knowing
that against Tiim there was a positive prohibition. Melville answered
that he had been deputed by his presbyteiT, and their unanimous
voice he durst not disobey, under pain oi 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, however ; 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 Melville 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 fur-
ther seems to be recorded of him at that meeting ; but no sooner
was the Assembly dissolved, than a story was got up by the church
commissioners, that the king of 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
y<z7?zawas propagated, solely with a view to divert the attention of the
reformers from the real danger with which they were threatened ; and
Melville, foreseeing this, took every opportunity of warning all with
ANDREW MELVILLE. 265
whom he was connected, and over whom he had any influence, of
what he conceived to be the true state of the matter. This having
been told to the king, he immediately came to St. Andrew's ; and
there, without even the sanction of his privy coimcil, issued the fol-
lowing precept, which we give in the words of Calderwood.
" At St. Andrew's, the eleventh day of the month of Jul}^, in the
year of our Lord, 1602, — The king's Majesty, for certain causes and
considerations moving his Highness, 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. Andrew's,
to remain and contain himself in ward, within the precincts of the
said college, and in no wise to resort or repair without the said
Srecincts while he be lawfully and orderly relieved, and freed by his
[ajesty, under the pain of rebellion and putting of him to the horn
— with certification to him, if he fail and do in the contrary, that he
shall be incontinent thereafter denounced rebel and put to the horn,
and all his moveables goods escheat to his Highness' 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 intention
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. Andrew's. But
even the king's most solemn asseverations 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 necessary
to watch that he did not insist upon uniformity of ecclesiastical wor-
ship and government, as well as political jurisdiction. To the latter
Melville yielded his decided approbation ; but he, with an over-
whelming majority of his brethren, maintained that they would part
with their lives, rather than renounce any of the articles of their
religion. Instructions to this effect were given to the commissioners
to lay before parliament, and to demand that former laws made for
the security of the church should be ratified, and that no alteration
or innovation, not founded on the word of God, as already sanctioned
by law, solemn promises, and oaths, should have any 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 repeatedly set this at naught ; and to applications now made to
him for liberty to meet, he said that it was neither necessary nor sea-
sonable. 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 dispatch 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 immediately
sent from London to put him in prison ; but this was not enforcedf,
probably owing to the spirit which was then abroad in the nation.
266 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Despite of all tlie 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
cnoice of their representatives, and therefore it was judged expedient
that they should go to Aberdeen, and constitute; but adjourn to
some future day, without proceeding to any business, "fhis was
done accordingly; and just after they had broken up ten other
ministers came K)rward, 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. Fourteen 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 tliem within the compass of the law. The following one
chiefly attracts notice : — " In the said Ire thereafter at this signe •^,
they wald mak this thair apologie for thair proceeding, ' that they
guld not be the first oppenaris of ane gap to the oppin breach ^nd
violatioun of the lawis and statutis of this realme ;** willing the coun-
sell to wey and considder thairofi'; as giff they wald mak ane plane
accusatioun of sum tyrannie intendit be us to the prejudice of the
lawis of our kingdom e, ane speich altogidder smelling of treasoun
and less majestic?' When brought to trial, the whole of the accused
declined the jurisdiction of the privy council ; and therefore, after
every illegal measure that could be devised by the council and crown
officers, the prisoners were found guilty of treason. Sentence, how-
,ever, was delayed, aud the king would neither listen to the voice of
the nation supjDlicating for pardon to the condemned, nor would he
impart to the council what punishment he intended to inflict. At
length, after much painful uncertainty, eight of them were banished
to Orkney and Shetland, and six to France. Melville interested
Jiimself deeply in their fate ; openly avowing his approval of their
conduct, ana 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 conviction, he accompanied them to their
place of confinement.
Notwithstanding all that happened to our reformer, the presbytery
of St. Andrew's nominated him their commissioner, to attend a
meeting of parliament which was to be held at Perth, in August,
1606, with instructions to watch over the interests of the church,
in conjunction with the deputies from other presbyteries. The
chui'ch was now in imminent danger, and therefore, knowing well
what the king's instructions were, he and his brethren presented to
the Lords of Articles a memorial, craving, that whatever changes
might be in contemplation, the privileges of the presbyterian church
ANDREW MELVILLE. 267
might bo regarded, as these had been enacted by the General
Assembly, and sanctioned by the king's most solemn concmTence.
To this, answer was made by the chancellor, that bishops would be
restored to the rank, dignity, and power which was attached to the
office a hundred years ago. All that the ministers could do in this
case was to remonstrate ; and, therefore, they gave in a protest, con-
taining forty-two signatures, of which Melville's was the first upon
the list, couched in the most respectful language, but most decidedly
hostile to the measures proposed ; and maintaining, that to the last
they w^ould preserve inviolate what had been given to the church by
her Divine Head. Keasons of protest w^ere drawn up by James
Melville, with the assistance of his uncle ; but James could not be
sw^ayed from his purpose. This w^as the last appearance tha^
ville was permitted to make in Scotland ; for, in the end of
this same year, he was commanded by the king to appear at Lio..
don, 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 w^ere also sent to his
nephew, and seven other ministers, his majesty's most formidable
opponents in Scotland. Melville, his nephew, and other two minis-
ters, sailed from Anstruther, in Fife, on the 15th of August ; and,
in a few days after they arrived in London, they were joined by the
other fom-, who had made the journey by land.
On being admitted into the royal presence, they were very graci-
ously 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 conversation 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 Gen-
eral 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 accordingly 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 be saved from
making speeches upon the subject. This, however, would not
satisfy the king ; and he therefore told them that every man must
speak for himself. Beginning with the bishops, James first wished
to know from them, what was their opinion concerning the pre-
tended 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
268 SCOTS WORTHIES.
condemn that convocation ? Do you think that eight or. nine min-
isters, 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 nut ?" Undismayed either at the splendour 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, 1 have been for a long time debarred from public
meetings ; but, since it is your majesty's pleasure, I shall endeavour
to give satisfaction on the different objections your majesty has
stated. "VVitii respect to the paucity of members, I presume there
is no rule fixing the precise number. In the days of our Lord's
humiliation, two or three, met in his name, had the assurance of his
presence ; and tlie 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 misinformed ; 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
commissioner, who was present, he said), " I charge you, in the name
of the church of Scotland, as you shall answer before the great God at
the appearance of Jesus CJhrist to judge the quick and the dead, to
testify the truth, and tell whether any such discharge was given ot
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, without any
commission from the church of Scotland ; and as no person has
made me a judge, I cannot take upon me to condemn them. Your
majesty has, by your proclamation at Hampton court" (here Mel-
ville produced the proclamation), " remitted 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
* 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
vaiversally 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. — Br. M'Crie.
ANDREW MELVILLE. 269
case is already prejudged by your majesty's council ; whether
rightly or not, I remit to God, before whom one day they must
appear and answer for that sentence ; and therefore, I am of opinion
that your majesty would not much relish it, if I should now contra-
dict your majesty's council and their proceedings. How then can 1
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 ad-
vanced. 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 before 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 astonished the audience,
fearlessly vindicated his brethren in all that they had done. 'Nor did
the lord advocate escape without a severe castigation. " I charge
you. Sir," said Melville sternly, " with having employed all your
craft and eloquence to convict the unoffending servants of Christ.
The accuser of the brethren could not have done more against the
saints of God, than you did against these men at Linlithgow ; and,
not satisfied with the part you then and there acted, you take upon
you still to show yourself o Karrjyopog rcov AdeX^cov" — * 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 unani-
mous expression of sentiment by Melville and his brethren served
only to determine the king to more harsh and unprincely conduct ;
and therefore before the ministers had time to reach their lodgings,
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 the presence of the earl of Dunbar and the lord
advocate. Melville was the last of being admitted. With his wonted
boldness he told these noblemen, that they were a disgrace to their
country and their forefathers, who scrupled not to hazard life and
fortune in defence of the gospel ; whereas they, their descendants,
were leaguing together for its overthrow. Each of the ministers,
before his dismissal, received in writing the following questions,
which he was desired to answer : — 1st. Have you not transgressed
* At this expression, the king, turning to the archbishop of Canterbury, exclaimed,
" What's that he said ? I think he calls him Antichrist. Nay, by G— ; it is the Devil's
name in the Revelation of their well-beloved John." Then rising hastily, he said, " God
be with you, Sirs !" But, recollecting himself, he turned to the ministers, and asked what
advice they had to give him for pacifying the church ; to which they all, with one voice,
replied, ^ free General Assembly! — Dr. WCrie.
270 SCOTS WORTHIES.
your duty by praying for your condemned brethren, and are you
willing to ask his Majesty's pardon for your offence ? 2nd. Do you
acknowledge that his majesty, in virtue of his royal prerogative, has
fall power to convocate, prorogue, and dismiss, all ecclesiastical
assemblies within his dominions ? 3rd. Has the king a lawful
right, by his royal authority, to call before him and his council, all
pei-sons, ecclesiastical and civil, for whatsoever faults ; and are all
subjects bound to appear, answer, and obey, in the premises ? To
these, answers were given in, — guarded, but explicit ; without the
most distant tendency to deviate, in the least, from the principles
they had hitherto mamtained. 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 j^aper to which all their
names were adhibited. Melville and his brethren, thinking all was
now over, were anxious to return home ; but nothing was farther
from James' intention. Every method was tried to entrap them ;
their conduct was watched upon all occasions ; they were compelled
to listen to harangues from the English bishops ; they were marched
to and from church like penitentiaries, day after day, without any
prospect of release ; and on the 28th of the same month, they were
by a message from the king ordered to attend in the royal chapel, it
being the feast of St. Michael. Several foreigners of distinction
were present ; and all imaginable pomp suited to the day was ex-
hibited, in order to attract the attention of the reformers. Melville's
eye was particularly drawn to the altar, on which were two books,
shut; two empty chalices, and two candlesticks with candles un-
lighted. On this dumb, dark, and empty display, he composed the
following epigram, after he returned to his lodgings : —
Cur stant clausi Anglis libri duo regia in ara,
Lumina caeca duo, pullubra sicca duo ?
Num sensum cultemque Dei tenet Anglia clausum,
Lumine caeca suo, sorde sepulta sua ?
Komano an ritu dum regalem instruit aram
Purpuream pingit religiosa lupam ?
As these verses were afterwards made the subject of serious
accusation against Melville, we hope it will not be judged improper
for having introduced them into our narrative ; and therefore we
shall give the followiiig old translation, which is perfectly accurate,
copiea verbatim from &. 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 were, under
various pretences, in the constant habit of frequenting the ministers'
lodgings ; the result of which was, that Melville was summoned to
attend a meetin.cr of the English privy council at Whitehall, on the
ANDREW MELVILLE. 271
30th of November. A copy of the verses having been shown to
him, he acknowledged the composition to be his own ; and said that
he had done it out of pity and indignation, at seeing a church,
calling itself reformed, so lar lost to true religion, and the pure light
of the gospel, as to introduce such gross and base idolatry. How it
had come to his majesty's hand he knew not; but of this he was
certain, that he had not given a copy to any one ; but his mind was
quite at ease upon the subject, however, as he intended to have
embraced the' earliest opportunity of showing them to his majesty
himself. lie 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 misdemeanor, 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 considered
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 — received 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 posterity." 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, without 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 remained without molestation for a
few weeks, until the 26th of April, when he received a message from
the bishop, requesting his presence at Whitehall. Before taking
leave of liis brethren, his nephew said to him, — " They know you
will speak your mind freely, and therefore they will be all on the
watch to find something farther against you, with a view to keep you
longer from returning to Scotland ;" — to which the uncle replied,
— ''If God have any business for me to do in Scotland, he will carry
me thither ; and, if not, it is my desire 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 thcj
pure and blessed light of the gospel." Before he was ready to
depart, two messages arrived, informing him that the council were
272 SCOTS WORTHIES.
waiting for him. Ilavinfif 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 thinkmg
that Melville would be less guarded in his speech, and might
thereby be the more easily caught. But this had no effect, — the
face 01 majesty would have laid him under no restraint. Like his
freat precursor, " he feared not the face of man," when duty to
is God required him to speak out. Melville spared neither king,
lords, nor bishops ; but fearlessly reproved them all. In vain did
they attempt to bring out an apology, or extort a retractation. He
adhered resolutely to all that he had either written or spoken ; and
made such an open exposure of the delinquencies of both king and
court, that they wishea in their hearts they had never brought him
from St. Andrew's. 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
magnanimously cried out : " To this comes England's boasted pride
at last ! — very lately you put a priest to death, and to-morrow you
would do the same to a minister !"* Having said so, he appealed to
the duke of Lennox, and the earl of Mar, and told them he was a
true Scotsman, and to take care that it did not end with them, as it
began with himself. This expression enraged the king more than
anything that he had spoken; wherefore he gave orders that he
should be immediately conveyed to the Tower, by water, without any
of his friends being permitted to see him. Aware that he could
never have regained his liberty without sacrificing his principles, he
resolved to speak out his mind freely, and, rather than accept it upon
any other terms, than free unfettered restraint in the exercise of his
duty as a public teacher, and minister of Christ, he preferred an
honourable 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 ITewcastle-upon-Tyne, under heavy penalties 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 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 retrospective glance at the final farewell of these eminent
and affectionate friends, who were now to be separated for ever in
* 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 days after, he was again brought out, stood other four
hours in the pillory, lost his remaining ear, and was condemned to perpetual banishment.
-Dr. M'Crie
ANDREW MELVILLE. 273
thig 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 sufferings ; but, all that he
could obtain was, that his servant was allowed to incarcerate himself
along with his master. Melville had been to him a tather, 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 JSTewcastle, at
the foot of the Tower stairs, on the 2nd of July, 1607. When sailing
down the river, he remained 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 enthusi-
astically 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. Andrew's, declaring that the privy council had found
the Keformer 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 his food. He was,
denied the use of writing materials ; but, notwithstanding the dismal
loneliness of his situation, his spirit remained unsubdued, and he
amused himself by writing verses upon the walls of his cell, with the
tongue of his shoe-buckle. In this state he lingered out ten months.
In the course of the following year, however, through the interest of
Sir James Semj^ell of Belltrees, he was removed to a more comfort-
able apartment, where his friends were occasionally admitted to visit
him, and where he was indulged with paper, ink, and pens. In the
month of May he wrote to his nephew, that notwithstanding the
severity of the previous winter, his health was not in the least im-
paired, and that he felt comparatively cheerful in the cause for
which he was suffering, — well in body and soul — prepared for what-
ever 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, showing to those
of them w^ho 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 Boillon applied to James for Mel-
ville'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
18
274 SCOTS WORTHIES,
country, who, having heard that Melville was of a turbulent disposi-
tion, judged it unsafe to admit a man of such habits within her
dominions. James himself had been the propagator of these calum-
nies, in order to save his own reputation abroad ; but the truth
having come out at length, the duke was more fortunate in February,
1611, naving procured his final release from the place of his cap-
tivity. Pecuniary embarrassment, 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 confinement, 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 coun-
try ; 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 Scotland been
favoured with a sum of money, sufficient to enable him to make a
respectable 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 un-
necessary to apologize for the following letter, which we extract from
Dr. M'Crie, written to his nephew, immediately before he em-
barked : —
" 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 leather, and 1 regard it as a fruit of his paternal love
towards me. Why should I not, when he has recovered me from a
ipudden 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, 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 Ileaven, — may the God of mercy give
it a prosperous issue. Join with me in supplicating 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 my-
self 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 appeal's to
prognosticate the ruin of the lately reared fabric ? Our three pre-
tended bishops affirm that they urged, and on their knees suppli-
cated 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 salutation
ANDREW MELVILLE. 275
to all friends. The grace of God be with jou always. From the
Tower of London, just embarking, the 19th of April, 1611*
" Yom'S as his own in the Lord,
" Andrew Melville."
Melville, on arriving in France, paid a short visit to Eouen and
Paris, and immediately after hastened off to Sedan, where he was
admitted as joint professor in theology with Daniel Tilenus, — the
latter teaching the system, and the former prelecting on the Scrip-
tures. 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 depend wholly, has his own times. I
Keep all my friends in my eye ; I carry them in my bosom ; I com-
mend 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 my-
self for better days. My mind is prepared by the grace of God ;
and, strong in the Lord, for whose sake I am not afraid to meet death
in that new and living way which he hath consecrated, and which
leads to heaven alike from every quarter of the globe."
The report of his nephew's death, w^hich reached him in April,
1614, gave a powerful shock to his feelings ; and this is not to
be wondered at ; for like Saul and Jonathan, they had been "lovely
in their lives.'' This excellent man, this paragon of humility, and
gentleness, and faith, and good works, when asked upon his death-
bed, if he had a w^sh to be restored to health, replied, " 'No ! not
for twenty worlds." The first expression that escaped Melville when
the melancholy tidings reached him was, " The Lord hath taken to
himself the faithful brother, my dearly beloved son. I fear melan-
choly to have abridged his days. Now he is out of all doubt and
trouble, enjoying the fruits of his sufferings here : God forgive the
instruments of his withholding from his flock." Soon after this, the
infirmities of age began to distress him ; but amidst all his suflTerings
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 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. N^either 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 prelates !" In the
276 SCOTS WORTfflES.
following jear, in a letter to the same correspondent, he says — " My
heart is al^cotch 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. AVho can tell when out of this confusion it may
please him to draw out some good order, and to the comfort of his
children and relief of his servants? — Courage, courage, brother! we
shall judge angels ; how much more mortals !" In the year 1616, to
the same person he writes, — " Let the bishops be moles ; we sliall
lay our treasures in heaven, where they shall be safe. My colic,
gravel, and gout, are messengers to spoil my patience, but to exercise
my faith. My health is better than I would look for at this age, —
praised be the true Mediator, to whose glory may it serve and to the
benefit of his church !"
To his dying hour Melville felt a deep interest in the affairs of the
church of Scotland. 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 observance of holidays —
confirmation by bishops before being first admitted to communion —
private baptism — and private communicating — and he said he could
not have believed that the government would have carried matters
to such extremity. lie 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 deplorable 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, contradicts the
assertion of a certain writer, that he hecame unconcerned about the
interests of the church of Scotland hefore his death — as a refutation
of which, we might adduce the testimony of Robert Boyd of
Trochrig, at that time principal of the university of Edinburgh ; but,
as we shall have occasion to notice this in our account of that
eminent divine, we shall content ourselves with translating from
" Simson's Annals," the following, which, from its brevit}^, point, and
originality, is not unworthy of notice. " Andrew Melville was a
man of the greatest piety, of singular 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-
ANDREW MELVILLE. 277
episcopacy and popery, ever upon the alert — throughout life he
continued in a state of celibacy, and strict chastity. By warrant of
the king he was cast into the Tower, where he remained till the
Duke of Bouillon took him to France. In that country he was a
valiant wrestler for the truth, until the day of his death, in 1622 : —
an octogeoiariany — Ilis exact age, however, was seventy -seven.
In the beginning of our memoir we have dwelt at so great a
length upon his intellectual endowments, as to render it altogether
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 peculiarly attached, being a very common
amusement among scholars in the age in which he lived. His style
was pure, chaste, flowing, and elegant ; but when he chose to dip his
pen in gall, it was master satire, — keen, pointed, and effective. In.
this, however, he indulged only against episcopal hierarchy and
antichristian popery. His versification of many of the psalms of
David is but little inferior to that of his great prototype, and his
paraphrase on the song of Moses will be admired, so long as the
beauties of the language in which it is written are studied and
appreciated. His panegyric on the two Scaligers and his preceptor
Buchanan will do him honour while time endures. Of his natural
temper, the attentive reader must have come to the conclusion, that
it was lofty, ardent, and independent ; far 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 vve have here chiefly to do. Others of his contemporaries were
perha|)S nearly as unflinching as he, in their opposition to the
introduction of episcopacy ; but to him certainly appertains the
merit of being the first to denounce the scheme ; viewing it as he
did at first in its remote bearings, he threw down the gauntlet even
before majesty, who had the foolhardiness to take it up, and thereby
to render himself the scorn, and contempt, and pity, not only of the
age in which he lived ; but even to hand down his name to posterity
for universal execration. Whether James or Melville had the
mastery it will not be difiScult to decide. The monarch could
deprive him of ofiice, 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 exam]3le and advice ? — he could shut him up in a
dungeon, and keep at a distance from him the sweets of social
conversation, 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 prevent him from
pouring forth his supplications for the afflicted, persecuted, church
of Scotland ? Never ; — no sufferings could force him to retract his
opposition, — no favom-s induce him even to smile approbation. As
278 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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,
ne recommended the gospel in his life and conversation — he fought
the good fight ; and, as a shock of corn cometh in in its season, so
he bade adieu to this mortal life, ripe for everlasting glory. If John
Knox rid Scotland of the errors and superstitions of popery, —
Andrew Melville contributed materially, by his fortitude, example,
and counsel, to resist even to the death, the propagation of a form of
woi-ship, 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 ftiithful minister, and a
distinguished servant of God.
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 dawn-
ing 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 consider-
able influence in the councils of the reformed clergy, — sharing the
friendship of Knox and otiier distinguished men of that age. His
son William, the subject of this memoir, 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 Forgan-
denny, 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 pecu-
liarly interesting.
He was one of those ministers who refused to give public thanks
for the king's deliverance from liis 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
WILLIAM ROW. 279
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 pre>
tence of friendship, to inform him that the council had a design
upon his life, that so he might be prevailed on to decline appearing.
Tlie first met him near his own house, the second a few miles from
Stirling ; but Row told them that he would not, by disobedience of
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 Henderson,
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 pi-evious 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 accom-
panied him to Holyroodhouse. While Melville was with the king,
Kow stood behind a screen, and not getting an opportunity to go
out w^ith 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 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 sus-
pecting the truth of this report. Row offered to go with him, and
avouch it to the king's face. Accordingly, they went back to the
palace, when Melville seeing Row as forward to go in as he was,
believed his report, and stopped him: and next day, when the
assembly proceeded to voting, Melville having voted against what
the king proposed, his majesty would not^ believe that such was his
vote, till he, being asked again, repeated it.
Again, he being to open the synod of Perth, in 1607, to which
king James sent lord Scoon, captain of his guards, to force them to
accept a constant moderator, Scoon sent notice to Row, that if, in
his preaching, he uttered ought against constant moderators^ he
should cause ten or twelve of his guards to discharge their culverins
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 w^hat vices Scoon was charge-
able 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
280 SCOTS WORTHIES.
moderator ought to be siiflfered in the church ; but knowing thai
Scoon understood neither Latin nor Greek, he wisely avoided nam-
ing the words, constant moderator, in English, and always gave the
Greek or Latin phrase. Sermon being ended, Scoon said to some
of the nobles attending him, " You see I have scared the preacher
from meddling with the constant moderator; but I wonder who he
spoke so much against by the name of pi'CBstes ad vitamP The told
him that in 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 hold-
ing the synod roll in the other, called out the names of the mem-
bers.
After this. Row Avas put to the horn ; and on the 11th June fol-
lowing, he and Henry Livingstone, tlie moderator, were summoned
before the council, to answer for their proceedings at the synod.
Livingstone 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.
He was subjected to several other hardships 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 in-
stances, until the deiy of his death.
Alexander Lindsay, bishop of Dunkeld, and minister of St.
Madoes, in the presbytery of Perth, was the patron of Forgandenny,
who, having been acquainted with Row from the time they had
been at college, although they differed in opinion on some chm*ch
matters, esteemed him for his good qualities, and generously ap-
pointed his son William assistant and successor in that parish.
The following interesting anecdote, in reference to this evejit, is
found in Row's own manuscript. Lindsay said to him, ''Mr.
"William, I do not come to this meeting 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 together with other forms
and prayers, were prefixed to tlie metrical version of the Psalms.
Row enjoyed the bisiiop's friendship, 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
uninvited. Row, in the manner of tlie times, showed the behaviour
of a ri^id presbyterian. " 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 mas-
ter should sit at table above you." " It is exceedingly right," said
the bishop ; and with a great deal of good humour, he gave place
PATRICK SIMPSON. 281
to Mr. Malcolm. Indeed Lindsay, who was laird of Evelick, in the
Garse of Gowrie, was in his last years a presbyterian.
Eow 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 zealons covenanter, and attended the Scots army into
England as one of its chaplains. He died in 1660. If he had lived
till the establishment of episcopacy in the following year, he would
likely have been de/prived for non-conformity!^
PATRICK SIMPSON,
Patrick Simpson was the son of Andrew Simpson, minister of
Dmabar, 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
* The Rows have been a very distingnished family for the part they bore in the eccle-
siastical history of their country. James Row was for fifty-two years minister of Car-
nock 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 gram-
mar school at Perth. He was one of the first Hebrew scholars of his day, an acquire-
ment which was likewise common to his father, and grandfather. Through the influence
of the famous Andrew Gout, he received an appointment to be one of the ministers of
Aberdeen. In 1643, he published a vocabulary of the Hebrew language, which he dedi-
cated 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 par-
liament 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 ap-
pointed for a public thanksgiving, he preached at Westminster Abbey before the parlia-
ment, a sermon entitled '' Man's duty in magnifying God's w .'rk," which was afterwards
printed by their orders. Having published some works reflecting on the royal family,
they were burned at the cross of Aberdeen by the hangman in the year 1661 : at this time
he resigned his office as principal. Hereafter this distinguished man supported himself,
though scantily for some years, by teaching a school in Aberdeen. His last days were
spent in ihe family of a son-in-law in the parish of Kinellar, eight miles from Aberdeen,
and his mortal remains were interred in the churchyard there.
282 SCOTS WORTHIES.
classics, tlic ancient Christian fathers, and the history of the primi-
tive cliurch. 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 Cramond, but was afterwards
tran>lated to Stirling, 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 acknowledge Patrick Adamson, as archbishop
of St. Andrew's, 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 alto-
gether absurd to subscribe an agreement with any human invention,
when it was condemned b}^ the word of God. A bishopric was
ofi'ered 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
conscience, which was dearer to him than anything whatever. He
did not stop with this; but having occasion, in 1598, to preach
before the king, he publicly exhorted him to beware that he drew not
the wrath of God upon himself, by patronizing a manifest breach of
the divine laws. Immediately after sermon, the king stood up, and
charged him not to intermeddle in these matters.
Wlien the Assembly which was held at Aberdeen, in 1604, was
condemned by the state, he in a very solemn manner denounced 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 parliament met
at Perth to repeal the statute which annexed the episcopal temporal-
ities to the crown, and to restore the order of bishops to their ancient
privileges, Simpson, seeing that no attention was paid to the remon-
strances of the clergy, drew up a protest, which was given in to each
of the three estates, after having been most insultingly 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 convened in Parliament at Perth, in
the beginning of July^ anno 1606.
" The earnest desire of our hearts is to be faithful, and in case we
could have been silent and unfaithful at this time, when the under-
mined estate of Christ's kirk craveth a duty at our hands, we should
have locked up our hearts with patience and our mouths with tacitur-
nity, rather than to have impeached any with our admonition. But
that which Christ commandeth, necessity urgeth, and duty wringeth
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 followeth God, without injury
PATRICK SIMPSON. 283
clone to any man, especially these whom God hath lapped np within
the skirts of his own honourable 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 endeavor 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 man nor angel, 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
Bufferings. All other authority is so intrenched 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 w^aters have done.
" I^ext, 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 had fashioned, by the
uncounterfeited work of his own new creation, as the prophet
speaketh. He hath made us, and not we ourselves ^' not that ye should
presume to fashion and shape a new portraiture of a kirk, and anew
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-emi-
nence 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 igno-
rance, 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 cockatrice : 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 iDanner, 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
2S4: SCOTS WORTHIES.
building of them again must needs stand to greater charges to the
builders, than the re-edifying of Jericho to Iliel 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 reve-
rence 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, contain-
ing, not only the maintenance of the true doctrine, 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 preachers, 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 doc-
trines ; some affirming, and others denying the opinion of Eutychus,
that in the end they lost all assured persuasion 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 admi-
ration, 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
fodly and prudent mind, and suifer not the gospel to be slandered
y 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 ap-
propriating 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 affiiirs 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 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
f
PATRICK SIMPSON. 285
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.
" I^emember, my lords, that in times past jour 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 ordi-
nances of men.
" And albeit your honours have no such intention to do anything
which may impair the honour of Christ's kingdom ; yet remember,
that spiritual darkness, flowing from a very small beginning, doth
so insinuate, and thrust itself into the house of God, as men can
hardly discern by what secret means the light was dimmed, and
darkness creeping in, got the upper hand ; and in the end, at un-
awares, all was involved in a misty cloud of horrible apostasy.
''And lest any should think this our admonition out of time, in so
far it is statute and ordained already by his majesty, with advice
of his estates in parliament, that all ministers, provided to prelacies,
should have vote in parliament ; as likewise, the General Assembly
(his majesty being present thereat,) hath found the same lawful and
expedient, we would humbly and earnestly beseech all such to con-
sider,
'' First^ That the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the office-bearers and
laws thereof, neither should nor can suffer any derogation, addition,
diminution, or alteration, besides the prescript of his holy word, by
any inventions or doings of men, civil or ecclesiastical. And we
are able, by the grace of God, and w^ill 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, ratifying the government of the kirk by the general
and provincial assemblies, presbyteries, and sessions, also against the
weal and honour of the king's most excellent majesty, the weal and
! honour of the realm, and quietness thereof; the established estate
and weal of the kirk, in the doctrine, discipline, and patrimony
thereof; the weal and honour of your lordships, the most ancient
estate of this realm ; and finally, against the weal of all, and every
one, the good subjects thereof, in soul, body, and substance.
I '' Next.^ That the act of parliament, granting vote in parliament to
; ministers, is with a special provision, that nothing thereby be dero-
1 gatory 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,
•Ijath circumscribed and bounded the same with a number of
286 SCOTS WORTHIES.
cautions ; all which, together with such others as sliall be concluded
upon b}" the Assembly, were thought expedient to be inserted in
the body of the act of parliament, as most necessary and substantial
parts of tlie same. And the said Assembly hath not agreed to
give thereunto the name of bisliops, for fear of importing the old
corniption, pomp, and tyrann}^ of papal bishops, but ordained them
to be called commissioners for the kirk to vote in parliament. And
it is 6f 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 ingoing have they behaved
themselves therein. 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 pas-
tors within the same, for discharging of our necessary duty, and
disburdening of our consciences in particular, we except and protest
against the said bishoprick, and bishops, and the erection, or con-
firmation, 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, f
case (as God forbid,) these bishopricks be erected, ratified, or co
firmed therein."
1
The above protestation was subscribed by the following ministe
— Messrs. Andrew Melville, James Melville, "William Scott, James
Koss, John Carmichael, John Gillespie, William Erskine, Colin
Campbell, James Muirhead, John Mitchell, John Davidson, John
Colden, John Abernethy, James Davidson, Adam Bannatyne, Job^
Row, William Buchanan, John Kennedy, John Ogilvie, Johfl
Scrimgeour, John Malcolm, James Burden, Isaac Blackfoord, Isaai^
Strachan, James Row, William Row, Robert Mercer, Edmund
Myles, John French, Patrick Simpson, John Dykes, William Younj
"William Cooper, William Keith, Hugh Duncan, James Merc(
Robert Colvill, William Hogg, Robert Wallace, David Barclaj
John W^eemes, William Cranston.
Simpson was not more distinguished for zeal in the cause
Christ, than for piety and an exemplary life, which had a hapi
effect upon the people with whom he stood connected. He was in
rery eminent degree blessed with the spirit and return of prayei
and the following fact, attested by old Mr. Row of Carnock, sho^^
how much of the divine countenance he had in this duty : — Hi
wife, Martha Barron, a woman of singular piety, fell sick ; ai _
under her indisposition, was strongly assaulted by the commo?
enemy of salvation, suggesting to her that she should be delivered
tip to him. This soon brought her into a very uneasy state of mind,
which continued for some time increasing ; and she frequently broke
A
PATRICK SIMPSON. 287
forth into very dreadful expressions. — Being in one of these fits of
despair, one Sabbath morning, when her husband was going to
preach, he was exceedingly 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 Tuesday morning preceding her
death, upon his return from secret prayer, he said to the people who
were in the chamber : — " Be of good comfort, for I am sure, that ere
ten hours of the day, that brand shall be plucked out of the fire ;"
after which he went to prayer, at his wife's bedside. She continued
for some time quiet, but, upon his mentioning Jacob wrestling with
God, she sat up in the bed, drew the curtain aside, and said, " Thou
art this day a Jacob, who hast wrestled and hast prevailed : and now
God hath made good his word, which he spoke this morning to you,
for I am plucked out of the hands of Satan, and he shall have no
power over me." This interruption made him silent for a little ;
but afterwards with great melting of heart, he proceeded in prayer,
and magnified the riches of grace towards him. From that hour
she continued to utter nothing but the language of joy and comfort,
until her death, which was on Friday following, August 13th, 1601.
He lived for several years after this, fervent and faithful in the
work of the ministry. In 1608, when the bishops and some
commissioners convened in the palace of Falkland, for the purpose
of coming to an agreement respecting the aftairs of the church,
towards the summoning of a General 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 concord and peace to be given in to the
bishops. This Simpson and some others did in the name of the rest ;
but the bishops shifted them off to the next Assembly, and in the
mean time took all possible precautions to strengthen their own
party, which they efiected.
In 1610, the noblemen and bishops came to Stirling, after dissolv-
ing 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 compound the
matter : but, after deliberation, they dropt the affair altogether for
the present. 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
I 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, blesssing the Lord, that he had not been perverted by
288
SCOTS WORTfflES.
the sinful courses of these times ; and saying, As the Lord had said
to Elijah in the wilderness, so in some respects, he had dealt with
him all the days of his life.
He wrote a history of the Church, for the space of about ten
centuries ; besides some other little tracts, and a History of the
Councils of the Church. Upon some of his books he had written,
" Remember, O my soul, and never forget the 9th of August, what
consolation the Lord gave thee, and now he performed what he
spake according to Zechariah, — Is not this a hrand plucked out of
the fire r
ANDREW DUNCAN.
Soon after the illustrious Melville was made principal of the nej
college of St. Andrew's, Andrew Duncan, the subject of this memoir^
became a keen opponent of what were then thought his unwarrantj
ble strictures on the philosophy "of Aristotle. Duncan was at thi
time a Regent in St. Leonard's college, who, in common with oth(^
members of the university, regarded the novel views of the princi
pal as calculated to destroy the credit of his teaching. But his pre
judices against Melville soon subsided, and from being an adversarj
he became an ardent admirer and a steady friend.
He was afterwards settled Minister at Crail, in Fife, and became
a sufferer for the presbyterian cause. He was present at the famoi
Assembly held at Aberdeen in 1605 ; and was the following yei
along with five other ministers, tried and found guilty of high trei
son because they had attended said Assembly. After having beei
imprisoned for fourteen months in Blackness castle, he was with hij
five brethren banished to France. On making some acknowled^
ments to the king and counsel, he was allowed to return to hi
native land about six years .thereafter.
In 1619, he was summoned before the high commission court,
St. Andrew's, on account of his faithfulness in opposing the fiv(
articles of Perth. At his first compearance he declined their authoi
ity ; and at the second, adhering to his former declinature, the higl
commission court passed sentence of deposition against him ; an(
ordained him to enter himself in ward at Dundee. After sentence
was pronounced, he gave in a protestation, which was as followsj
" Now seeing I have done nothing of this business, whereof I hav(
ANDREW DUNCAN. 289
been accused hj yon, "but have been serving Jesus Christ, my Mas-
ter, in rebuking vice, in simj^licity and righteousness of heart, I
protest, seeing ye have done rae wrong, for a remedy at God's
hand, the rigliteous judge; and summon you before his dreadful
judgment-seat, to be censured and punished for such unrighteous
dealings, at such a time as his majesty shall think expedient ; and in
the mean time decline this your judgment simpUciter, now as before,
and appeal to the ordinary Assembly of the church, for reasons be-
fore produced in writ. Pity yourselves for the Lord's sake ; lose not
your own dear souls, I beseech you, for Esau's pottage : remember
fealaam, who was cast away .by the deceit of the wages of unright-
eousness ; forget not how miserable 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 servants of the Lord Jesus? This is
not the doing of the shepherds of the flock of Christ : if ye will not
regard your souls nor consciences, look, I beseech you, to your fame :
why will ye be miserable both in this life and in the life to come !"
When the bishop of St. Andrew's had read a few lines of this
admonition, he cast it from him ; the bishop of Dunblane took it up,
and reading it, said, he calls us Esaus, Balaams, and Judases. " Kot
so," said Duncan, " read again, beware that ye be not like them."
In the space of a month after, he was deposed for non-comformity."^
In July 1621, he presented a large supplication, in name of him-
self, and some of his faithful brethren, who had been excluded
from the General Assembly, to Sir George Hay, clerk register ; on
which acconnt he was in a few days after apprehended by the cap-
tain of the guard and brought before the council, who accused him
of breaking ward, after he had been suspended and confined to Dun-
dee, for having preached the week before at Crail. Duncan denied
that he had been put to the horn ; and as for breaking ward, he said,
that for the sake of obedience, he staid at Dundee, separated from a
wife and six children for half a year, and that the winter approach-
ing had forced him to go home. In the end, he requested them not
to imprison him on his own charges ; but the sentence had been re-
! solved upon before he compeared. He was conveyed next day to
1 Blackness castle, where he remained until October thereafter, when
j he was again brought before the council, and by them confined to
I Kilrennie, a parish adjacent to his own, upon his own charges.
i Upon another occasion of the same nature, this worthy man was
banished out of the kingdom, and went to settle at Berwick ; but
! * Next to the satisfaction that flows to the mind of the falsely accused, from the imme-
i diate approval of God and his own conscience, must be that resulting from an appeal to
i the great day ; for then every unjust judgment shall be reversed, and righteousness rewarded.
But while the solemn appeal of an unjustly condemned man is consolatory to himself,
how ought it to make the heart of an unrighteous judge quail ! Surely then the bishops of
St. Andrew's and Dunblane had manifested more wisdom, had they not treated Andrew
j Duncan's admonition with contempt. Let judges, whether in civil or sacred matters
I always feel, ^yhen they give judgment, that the rights of the poorest will be vindicated in
I the judgment of the great day.
19
I
290 SCOTS WORTHIES,
having several children, and his wife again near her confine-
ment, 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 chihiren asking for bread, and
there being none to give them, they cried very sore : the mother was
likewise much depressed in spirit ; the minister himself had recourse
sometimes, to prayer ; and in the intervals endeavoured to cherish his
wife's hopie, and please the children, and at last got them to bed ; but
she continued to mourn heavily, lie exhorted her to wait patiently
upon God, who was now trying them, but would undoubtedly pro-
vide for them ; and added that if the Lord should rain down bread
from heaven, they should not want. This confidence was the more
remarkable, because they had neither friend nor acquaintance 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, with-
out telling them from whence it came, though entreated to do so.
When the father opened the sack he found in it a bag with twenty
pounds Scots, two loaves of bread, a bag of flour, another of barley,
and such like provisions ; 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 extremity : the pains
of childbearing came upon her before she could make any provision
for her delivery ; but Providence interposed in their behalf at this
time also. While she travailed in the night season, and the good
man knew not where to apply for a midwife, a gentlewoman came
early in the morning riding to the door, and having sent her servant
back with the horse, with orders when to return, she went in, and
asked the maid of the house, how her mistress was, and desired
access to her, which she obtained. She first ordered a good fire to
be made, then desired Mrs. Duncan to rise, and without any other
assistance than the house afforded, she delivered her, and afterwards
accommodated Mrs. Duncan and the child with abundance of very
fine linen which she had brought along with her. She gave her
likewise a box, containing some necessary cordials, and five pieces
of gold, bidding them both be of good comfort, for they should not
want. After which she rode away on the horse, which had by this
time returned for her; but would not tell her name, nor from whence
she came.
Thus did God take his own servant under his immediate care and
providence, when men had wrongfully excluded him from enjoying
his Wurldly comforts. He continued zealous and steadfast in the
faith, enduring his severe trials with the most exemplary resigna-
tion ; and to the end of his life, his conduct was uniform with the
circumstances of this brief narrative.
JOHN SCRIMGEOUR. ggj
JOHN SCRIMGEOUR.
]N'oTHiNG seems to be known of the parentage 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 Denmark to bring home his queen. He w^as 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, excluded from having a vote, by the prevailing party of
that Assembly.
In 1620, he was, with some others, summoned before the high
commission court, for not preaching upon holidays, and not adminis-
tering the communion conform to the agreement at Perth ; with cer-
tification, if this were proved, that he should be deprived of exercis-
ing the functions of a minister in all time coming. But there being
none present on the day appointed, except the bishops of St.
Andrew's, Glasgow, and the Isles, and Walter Whiteford, they were
dismissed at that time ; but were summoned apid acta to compear
again on the 1st of March, and the bishops caused the clerk to exact
their consent to deprivation, in case they did not compear against
that day. E"evertheless, they all protested, with one voice, that they
would never willingly renounce their ministry ; and such was the
resolution and courage of Scrimgeour, that, notwithstanding all the
threatenings of the bishops, he celebrated the communion conform to
the ancient practice of the church, a few days thereafter.
On the day appointed for their next compearance, the bishops of
St. Andrew's, Dunkeld, Galloway, the Isles, Dunblane, Hewison,
commissary of Edinburgh, and Dr. Blair, being assembled in the
bishop of St. Andrew's lodging in Edinburgh, John Scrimgeour was
again called upon to answer. The bishop of St. Andrew's alleged
against him, that he had promised either to conform or quit his min-
istry, as the act at his last compearance on January 26th reported ;
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 concern-
ing church policy and the keeping of holidays, he was removed for
a little. Being called in again, the bishop of St. Andrew's said to
him, " You are deprived of all function within the kirk, and
293 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ordained within six days to enter in ward at Dundee." " It is a
very summary and peremptory sentence," said Scrimgeour, " Ye
might have been advised better, and first have heard what I would
have said." " You shall be heard," said the bishop. This brought
on some further reasoning, in the course of which Scrimgeour gave a
faithful testimony against the king's supremacy over the church, and,
among other things, said, I have liad opportunity to reason with the
king himself on tliis subject, and have told him, that Clirist 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. Andrew's, " 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. Afterwards the bishops of St. Andrew's said to him, " take
lip your reasons again ; if you will not conform I cannot help it ; the
king must be obeyed, the Lords have given sentence, and will stand
to it." " Ye cannot 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. Andrew's replied, " You are deprived only
of the present exercise of it." Then he presented the following pro-
testation : " I protest before 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 assem-
blies 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. Andrew's. He answered, " that
Dundee was far off, and he was not able for far journeys, as phy-
sicians can witness." And he added, " little know ye what is in my
purse." "Then where will you choose the place of your confine-
ment?" said the bishop. He answered, " at a little room of my
own, called Bowhill, in the parish of Auchterderran." Then said the
bishop, " write at Bowhill, during the king's pleasure." Thus this
worthy servant of Christ lived the rest of his days in Auchterderran.
In his old age he was grievously afflicted with the stone. He said to
a godly minister who went to see him before his death, " I have
"been a rude stunkard all my life, and now by this pain the Lord is
humbling me to make me a lamb before he take me to himself.*
He was a man somewhat negligent in his clothing, and inelegant
in some of his expressions and behaviour ; and yet was a very loving
♦ While the above conversation between the bishop and Scrimgeour is an illustration
of the Erafitian nature of the governmentj it shows the minister of Christ in his true
d.gnity. F'om his answers to the bishops it is evident Scrimgeour did not follow his holy
vocation for filthy lucre's sake ; that he understood who was his spiritual master, and was
faithful in hia service. Before his tyrannic judges he nobly supported the spiritual head-
ship 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 SCRIMGEOUR.
293
tender-hearted man ; of a deep natural judgment ; and very learned,
especially in Hebrew. lie often wished that most books were burnt
except the Bible and some short notes thereon. He had a peculiar
talent for comforting the dejected. He used a very familiar, but
pressing manner of preaching. He was also an eminent WTestler
with God, and had more than ordinary fervency and success in that
exercise, 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
that she was a castaway, notwithstanding that her whole conversa-
tion 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 in-
creased. 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 afterwards prayed him-
self; 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
remed}^ Sure I am, this is a daughter of Abraham, — sure I am, she
hath sent for me, — and, theretbre, in the name of God, the Father of
nir 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 immediately peace and joy ensued.
Scrimgeour had several friends and children 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 expostulate with the Lord, with such expres-
sions as, for all the world, he durst not again utter. In a fit of dis-
pleasure, he said, " Thou, O Lord, knowest that I have been serving
thee in the uprightness of my heart, according to my power and
measure ; nor have I stood in awe to declare thy mind even unto
the greatest in the time, and thou seest that I take pleasure in this
child. O that I could obtain such a thing at thy hand as to spare
her !" 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 recovered, and, sitting up in the bed, took some
meat : and when he looked at her arm, it was perfectly whole.
294 SCOTS WORTHIES.
JOHN WELCH.
John Welch was by birth a gentleman, his father being laird of
CoUieston, in Nithsdale, an estate rather competent than large. He
was born about the year 1570, and throughout life was a rich in-
stance of divine grace and mercy, although with him the night
went before the day. He was a very irregular, hopeless boy, fre-
quently running away from school, and playing truant ; but after he
had past his grammar, and was come to be an adult, he left his
studies, and his father's house, and went and joined himself to the
thieves on the English border, who lived by robbing the two nations,
and amongst them he stayed 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 prodigal's resolution : then he resolved to return to his
father's house, but durst not venture till he should interpose a recon-
ciler. In his return homeward, he took Dumfries in his way, where
he had an aunt, one Agnes Forsyth, and with her he spent some
days, earnestly entreating her to reconcile him to his father. While
he remained in her house, his father came providentially to visit
her ; and after they had talked a while, she asked him, whether he
ever heard any word of his son 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 comforted him. He insisted, however, upon his sad com-
plaint; but asked, whether she knew if his lost son was yet alive!
She answered, " Yes ; and hoped he should prove a better man than
he had been a boy;" and with that she called upon him to come to
his father. He came weeping, and kneeled, beseeching his father,
for Christ's sake, to pardon his misbehaviour, engaging heartily to
be a new man. His father reproached and threatened him. Yet at
length, by his tears, and Mrs. Forsyth's importunities, he was per-
suaded to a reconciliation. The boy entreated his father to send
him to college, and there to try his behaviour; and if ever there-
after 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 proceeded to the ministry.
His first settlement was at Selkirk, while he was yet very young,
and the counti-y very uncivilized. While there, his ministry was
A
JOHN WELCH. 295
rather admired bj 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 his 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 ex-
pression more magnificent that proper ; for his meaning was, that in
heart and life he imitated Christ, as indeed in many things he did.
He also said that his custom was to preach publicly once- every day,
and to spend his whole time in spiritual exercises ; that some in that
place waited well upon his ministry, with great tenderness ; but
that he was constrained to leave that place, because of the malice
of the wicked.
The special cause of his departure was, the enmity of a pi'ofane
gentleman in the countiy (Scott of Headschaw, whose family is now
extinct), who, either because Welch had reproved him, or merely
from malignity, 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 Kircudbright, 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, ex-
horting 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 distri:;t around, though occupying the same situation, and
presenting the same features of natural scenery as before, affords as striking a moral con-
trast as can well be imagined or desired. The hills and dales of that delightful country
are associated now with emotions and feelings very different from those which they for-
merly 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 god-
liness, and its unitbrm attendant, disinterested hospitality, than in the classic and religious
county of Selkirk.
Although the conduct of these people to Welch while he resided amongst them, as their
296 SCOTS WORTHIES.
At Kircudbriglit lie stayed not long : but there he reaped a har-
vest of converts which subsisted long after his departure, and were
part of Samuel Ilutherford'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 Kircudbright never offered to detain him ;
so his translation thither was the more easy.
While he was at Kircudbright, he met with a young man in
scarlet and silver lace, whose name w^as Robert Glendinning, newly
returned from his travels; w^hom 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 Kircudbright. This accordingly came to pass some time after.
Welch was translated to Ayr in 1690, and there he continued till
he was banished, 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 w^as so wicked, and the hatred of godliness so
great, that there could not one in all the town be found, w^ho
would let him a house to dwell in. He was therefore constrained to
accommodate himself the best way he could in a part of a gentle-
man's house whose name was John Stuart, merchant, and some-
time provost of Ayr, an eminent Christian, and great assistant of "
Welch. •
When he first took up his residence in that town, it was so divided
into factions, and disturbed with bloody conflicts, that a man could
hardly walk the streets with safety. lie therefore made it his first
undertaking, to remove these bloody quarrellings, but he found it a
very difiicult work : such, however, was his earnestness to pursue his
design, that many times he would rush betwixt two parties of men
fighting, even in the midst of blood and wounds. Upon these occa-
sions he used to cover his head with a helmet before he w^ent '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 peaceable habitation.
His manner w^as, after he had ended a skirmish amongst neigh-
bours, and reconciled bitter enemies, to cause a table to be covered
upon the street, to which he brought the enemies together ; and, begin-
ning with prayer, he persuaded them to profess themselves 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 not only a necessary
councillor, without whose advice they would do nothing, but an ex-
ainple of imitation.
He gave himself wholly to ministerial exercises, preaching once
every day, and praying tlie third part of his time. He was un-
minister, and especially the almost incredible heartlessness which they evinced on his de-
parture, appear to forbid 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 Providence
who afterwards raised up lor them a succession 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 iiistiumental in sowing?
JOHN WELCH. 297
wearied 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 ^^ears. By all which it appears, that he was not only a
man of great diligence, but also of a strong and robust natural con-
stitution ; otherwise he had never endured the fatigue.
Sometimes before he went to sermon, lie would send for his elders,
and tell them he was afraid to go to church, because he found him-
self sore deserted ; and then desiring one or more of them to pray,
he would venture to the pulpit. But it was observed, that this hum-
bling exercise used ordinarily to be followed with extraordinary
assistance, — so near neighbours often are contrary dispositions and
frames. He would frequently retire to the church of Ayr, which
was at some distance from the town, and there spend the whole night
in prayer ; for he used to allow his affections full expression, and
prayed not only with an audible, but sometimes a loud voice.
There was in Ayr, at the time he came to it, an aged man, a
minister of the town, called Porterfield, who was judged no bad
man for his personal inclinations, but so easy in his disposition, that
he used often to go too great a length with his neighbours in many
improper practices ; amongst the rest he used to go to the bow-butts
and archery on the Sabbath afternoon, to Welch's great dissatisfac-
tion ; 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 house about eight miles distant, by reason of a
great confluence of people playing at football, and other pastimes.
After writing several times to him to suppress this profanation at his
house, Welch came one day to his gate, and called him out to tell
him, that he had a message from God to him ; that because he had
slighted the advice given him, the Lord would cast him out of his
house, and none of his posterity should afterwards enjoy it, which
accordingly came to pass ; for although he was in good external cir-
cumstances at the time, yet afterwards all things went against him,
until he was obliged to sell his estate; and when giving the pur-
chaser possession thereof, he told his wife and children that he had
found Welch a true prophet.f
* Had Dr. M'Crie not vindicated the Presbyterian ministers of this and the immediately
succeeding age, from the charge of being illiterate preferred against them by some distin-
guished accusers, the instance before us might almost have disposed us to take up the sub-
ject ourselves. Yet, as it is, we cannot help observing that Welch studying metaphysics,
and that toc^ at an advanced period of his life, gives an additional interest to his history,
while at the same time we find him only acting in consistency with the character assigned
to him and his persecuted brethren, by the biographer of Knox.
* Vide Welch's dispute with Gilbert Brown the Papist, in preface.
298 SCOTS WORTHIES.
He married Elizabeth Knox, daughter of the famous John Knox,
the reformer, by whom he had three sons.*
As the duty wherein AVelch 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 watched unto prayer.
One night having risen from his wife, and gone into the next room,
where Tie 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,
enouorh I'' and so she returned to her bed ; and he following, she
asked him, what he meant by saying, " Enough, Lord, enough!"
He showed himself dissatisfied with her curiosity ; but told her he
had been wrestling with the Lord for Scotland, and found there was
a sad time at hand but that the Lord would be gracious to a
remnant. This was about the time when the bishops first overspread
the land and corrupted the Church. The following, however, is
more wonderful still : An honest minister, who was Welch's pa-
rishioner 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.
* The first was called Dr. Welch, a doctor of medicine, who was unhappily killed, upon
an innocent 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 v.-ant of necessary food and
refreshment ; and when some time afterwards his body was found upon the rock, they
found him dead, in a praying posture, upon his bended knees, with his hands stretched out ;
and this was all the satisfaction his friends and the world had upon his lamentable death.
Another he had, who was heir to his father's graces and blessings; and this was Josias
Welch, minister at Temple-patrick, in the north of Ireland, commonly called the Cock of
Conscience by the people of that country, because of his extraordinary awakening and
rousing gift. He was one of that blessed society of ministers, who wrought that un-
paralleled work in the north of Ireland, about the year 1 636, 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 in Scotland, in the time of the late episcopal persecution, for the space of twenty
years, is known to all Scotland. He maintained his dangerous post of preaching the gos-
Eel upon the mountains of Scotland, notwithstanding of the threatenings of the state, the
atred of the bishops, .he price set upon his head, and the fierce industry of his cruel ene-
mies. It is well known, that bloody Claverhouse, upon secret information from his spies,
that John Welch was to be found in some lurking place at forty miles' distance, would
make all that long journey in one winter's night, that he might catch him; but when he
came he always missed his prey. We never heard of a man that endured more toil, ven-
tured upon more, or escaped so much hazard, not in the world. He used to tell his friends
who counselled him to be more cautious, and not to hazard himself so much, that he firm-
ly believed 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 ; lor 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.
JOHN WEXH. 299
And one cause was this : the magistrates of A_yr, forasmucli 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,
carao to the town, desiring entrance, that they might sell their
goods, producing a pass from the magistrates of the town from
whence they came, which was at that time sound and free. Not-
withstanding all this, the sentinels stopt them till the magistrates
were called ; who when they came, would do nothing without their
minister's advice ; and so Welch was called, and his opinion asked.
He demurred, and, putting off his hat, with his eyes raised towards
heaven for a short space, though he uttered no audible words,
continued in a praying posture. Having broken silence, he then
told the magistrates they would do well to discharge these travellers,
affirming with great asseveration, that the plague was in their packs.
Tlie magistrates commanded them to be gone, and they went to
Cumnock, 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 destroying the church of Scotland, by establishing
bishops, was ripe, and then he felt it to be his duty to edify the
church by his sufferings, as he had formerly done by his doctrine.
The reason why king James was so eager for the appointment
of bishops, was neither their divine institution, which he denied
they had ; nor yet the profit the church should reap by them, for
he knew well both the men and their manner ; but merely because
he believed they were useful instruments for turning a limited monar-
chy into absolute dominion, and subjects into slaves ; which of all
things in the world he minded most.
In pursuit of this design, he resolved in the first place to destroy
General Assemblies, knowing well that so long as these might be
convened in freedom, bishops could never gain the ascendancy in
Scotland : and the dissolution of Assemblies he brought about in the
following manner.
The General Assembly at Holyroodhouse, in 1602, with the king's
consent, appointed their meeting to be held at Aberdeen, the last
Tuesday of July, 1604; but before that day arrived, the king,
by his commissioner, the laird of Laurieston, and Patrick Galloway,
moderator of the last General Assembly, in a letter directed to the
several presbyteries, prorogued the meeting till the first Tuesday
of July, 1605 ; and again, in June following, the expected meeting
was, by a new letter from the king's commissioner, and the com-
missioners of the General Assembly, absolutely discharged and pro-
300 SCOTS WORTHIES.
liibited, but without naming any day or place, for any other assem-
bly ; and thus the series of Assemblies expired, never to be revived
again in due form, till the covenant was renewed in 1638. How-
ever, many of the godly ministers of Scotland — knowing well, that
if once tlie hedge of the government were broken, corruption of
doctrine would soon follow — resolved not to give up their assemblies
6o quietly ; and therefore a number of them met at Aberdeen, upon
the first Tuesday of July 1605, being the last day distinctly ap-
pointed by authority ; and when they had met, did no more than
constitute and dissolve. Amongst those was Welch, who, though
not i>resent U[)on the precise day, yet because he came afterwards,
and aj)i)roved what his brethren had done, was accused as guilty of
the treasonable fact committed by them.
Within a month after this meeting, many of the godly men were
incarcerated, some in one prison, some in another. Welch was sent
first to Edinburgh tolbooth, and then to Blackness ; and so from
prison to prison, till he was banished to France, never to see Scotland
again.
And now the scene of his life begins to change ; but, before his
suiferings, he had the following warning.
After the meeting at Aberdeen was over, he retired immediately
to Ayr ; and one night having risen from his wife, and gone into his
garden, as his custom was, he staid longer than ordinary. This
alarmed and troubled his wife not a little, who, when he returned,
expostulated very hard with him for staying so long to injure his
health ; but he bade her be quiet, for it should yet be well with
them, although he knew he should never preach more at Ayr ; and
accordingly, before next Sabbath, he was carried prisoner to Black-
ness castle. After this, he, with many others who had met at
Aberdeen, were brought before the council 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 constitution of a General Assembly, they
were remitted to prison at Blackness, and other places. Thereafter,
six of the most considerable* 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 alledged, the king's lawful
authority, in refusing to admit the council as judges competent in
the cause. After their accusation and answer were read, they were
♦ " 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 prisoners. The greater part of the jurors
being still reluctant, the chancellor went out and consulted with the other judges, who
promised, that no punishment should be inflicted on the prisoners, provided the jury
brought in a verdict agreeable to the court. By such disgraceful methods, they were
induced at midnight to find by a majority of three, that the prisoners were guilty ; upon
which they were condemned to suffer the death of traitors "
JOHN WELCH 301
condemned as guilty of high treason, by the verdict of a jury ; but
the punishment was deferred till the king's pleasure should be
known, which some time after was declared to be banishment.
While. he was in Blackness, he wrote his famous letter to Lilias
Graham, countess of Wigton ; in which he expresses, in the strongest
terms, his consolation in suffering ; his desire to be, dissolved, that
he might be with the Lord ; the judgments 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 minister of the glad tidings of the gospel of
salvation these years past, and now, last of all, to be a sufferer for
his cause and kingdom. 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 righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give ;
not to me only, but to all that love his appearing, and choose to
witness that Jesus Christ is the King of saints, and that his Church
is a free kingdom ; yea as free as any kingdom under heaven, not
only to convocate, hold, and keep her meetings, and conventions, and
Assemblies ; but also to judge all her affairs, in all her meetings and
conventions, amongst her members and subjects. These two points ;
1. That Christ is the head of the church ; 2. That she is free in her
government from all other jurisdiction except Christ's : — ^These two
points, I say, are the special cause of our imprisonment ; being now
convicted as traitors for maintaining the same. We have been ever
waiting with joy fulness to give the last testimony of our blood in
confirmation thereof, if it should please our God to be so favourable,
as to honour us with that dignity ; yea, I do affirm, that these two
points above written, and all other things which belong to Christ's
crown, scejDtre, and kingdom, are not subject, nor can be, to any
other authority, but to His only, — so that I w^ould 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 whatsoever he shall please.
" I am also bound and sworn, by a special covenant, to maintain
the doctrine and discipline thereof, according to my vocation and
Eower, all the days of my life, under all the pains contained in the
ook 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 confusion covering him, ere he go to his grave, as ever did his
predecessors. [N'ow, surely. Sir, I am far from bitterness ; but here I
denounce the wrath of an everlasting God against him, which assur-
edly shall fall, except it be prevented. Sir, Dagon shall not stand
302 SCOTS WORTHIES.
t
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 Ilaman, suppose he were as great a courtier
as ever he was ; suppose the decree were given out, and sealed with
the king's ring, deliverance will come to us elsewhere and not by
him, who has been so sore an instrument, not against our persons,
(that were nothing, for I protest to you. Sir, in the sight of God, I
forgive him all tlie evil he has done, or can do, to me), but unto
Christ's poor kirk, in stamping under foot so glorious a kingdom and
beauty, as was once in this land. He has helped to cut Samson'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 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 arch^
bishop 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, Kobert Spottiswood, sometime president of the court of Ses-
sion, was beheaded by the parliament of Scotland, at the market-
cross of St. Andrew's, 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 VYelch'a
prophecy was fulfilled ; to which he replied in anger, that both ;
W elch and he were false prophets. I
But before leaving Scotland, there are other remarkable passages |
in his life worthy of being remembered. And, first, when the dis- ^
pute about church government began to grow warm, as he was walk-
ing 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 repentance."
The two men were Patrick Galloway and John Hall ; who both died
suddenly and unobserved, without one to witness or soothe their
dying moments.
He was some time prisoner in Edinburgh 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 discourse, which was well received
by all the company except a debauched popish young 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
JOHN WELCH. 303
Ochiltree, having been for a long time, through the multitude of
affairs, kept from visiting him in his chamber, he, as he was one day
walking in the court, having observed Welch at his window, asked
him kindly, how lie did, and if in anything he could serve him ?
Welch answered, he would earnestly enti-eat his lordship, being at
that time to go to court, to petition king James in his name, that he
might have liberty to preach the gospel ; which my lord promised
to do. Welch then added, " My lord, both because you are my
kinsman, and for other reasons, I would earnestly entreat and obtest
you not to promise, except you faithfully perfonn." His lordship
answered, he would faithfully perform his promise ; and so went for
London. But though, at his first arrival, he really purposed to pre-
sent the petition, he found the king in such a rage against the con-
demned ministers, that he durst not at that time present it; and
therefore thinking fit to delay, he entirely forgot it.
The first time that Welch saw him after his return from court, he
asked him what he had done with his petition. His lordship
answered, he had presented it to the king ; but that his majesty was
in so great a rage against the ministers at that time, he believed it
had been forgotten, for he had got no answer. ]N"ay, 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 to un-
dertake it except you would perform it ; but because you have dealt
80 unfaithfully, 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 transferred to James Stuart, a cadet, but not
the lineal heir of the family.
While he was detained prisoner in Edinburgh 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 difi^culty he
yielded. When she was about to take her journey, he strictly
charged her not to take the ordinary way to her own house, when she
came to the town ; but to pass the river above the bridge, and so get
home without going into the town ; " for," said he, " before you
come thither, you shall find the plague broken out in Ayr," which
accordingly came to pass.
The plague w^as at that time very terrible, and his being necessarily
separate from his people, it was to him the more grievous. When
his parishioners came to him to bemoan themselves, his answer was,
that " Hugh Kennedy, a godly gentleman in their town, should pray
for them, and God would hear him." This counsel they accepted,
and the gentleman, convening a number of the honest citizens,
prayed earnestly for the town, and the plague decreased.
The time being come when he must leave Scotland, never to see it
again, he, upon the Yth 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 afifticted families, to bid them farewell.*
* With Welch, other five godly ministers were banished for the same cause, viz., John
Forbes, who went to Middleburgh, to the English chapel there , Robert Dury, who went
tp Holland, and was minister to the Scots congregation in Leyden ; John Sharp, who be-
304 - SCOTS WORTHIES.
After prayer, they sang the 23d Psahn, and to the great grief of the
spectators, set sail for the south of France, and landed in the river
of Bourdeaux. Such was the Lord's blessing upon his diligence, that
within fourteen weeks after his arrival he was able to preach in
Frencli, and accordingly was not long in being called to the mhiistry ;
first in a village, called Nerac, and thereafter in St. Jean d'Angely,
a considerable walled town ; where he continued the rest of the
time he sojourned in France, which was about sixteen years. When
he began to preach, it was observed by some of his hearers, that
while he continued in the doctrinal part of his sermon, he spoke very
correct French ; but when he came to the application, when his affec-
tions kindled, his fervour made him sometimes neglect the accuracy
of the French construction. There were some godly young men who
admonished him of this, which he took in very good part ; and to
prevent mistakes afterwards, he desired them, when they perceived
nim 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 correct language.
In his auditory, there were frequently persons of great rank,
before whom he was as bold as ever he had been in a Scottish
village ; which led Boyd of Trochrig once to ask him — after he had
preached before the university of Saumur, with as much boldness
and authority, as if he had been before the meanest congregation —
how he could be so confident among strangers, and pei*sons 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 j
him for good education, a young gentleman of great quality, and m
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 nad been long wasted with it, he to the apprehension
of all spectatoi-s, 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 requested 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 coiBSned 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
came minister and professor of Divinity at Die in the Danphinate , and Andrew Duncan
and Alexander Strachan, who, in about a year after got liberty to return to their former
places. — Calderwood's Hist.
JOHN WELCH. . 3Q5
great earnestness, but with some displeasure, thej 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 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 with 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 excellent parts, that he was courted by the earl
of Stafford to be a counsellor in Ireland. This, however, he refused,
till the godly silenced Scottish ministers, who sufiered under the
bishops in the north of Ireland, were restored to the exercise of their
ministry. He then engaged, and continued during his whole life ;
not only in honour and power, but in the profession and practice of
godliness, to the great comfort 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 lodging in the whole village,
addressed himself to his house for a night. The servants acquainted
their master, and he was willing to receive him. The family had
supped before he came, and so the servants showed the friar to his
chamber, and after they had made his supper, left him to rest.
There was but a wooden partition betwixt his room and that of
Welch ; and, after the friar awoke from his first sleep, he was
surprised at hearing a constant whispering noise.
Next morning as he w^alked in the fields, he chanced to meet
with a countryman, who, saluting him because of his habit, asked
him, where he had lodged that night ? The friar answered, he had
lodged with the Hugonot minister. The countryman then asked
him, what entertainment 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 continual whisper, and I believe it was nothing
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,
20
306 SCOTS WORTHIES.
" does the minister pray ?" '' Yes, more than any man in France,"
answered tlie countryman ; " and if you please to stay another night
witli him, you may be satisfied." The friar accordingly went back
to WelchV, and, pretending indisposition, entreated another niglit's
lodging, which was <rranted him.
Before dinner, AVdch came from his chamber, and made his
family exercise, according to custom. lie first sang a psalm, tlien
read a ]»ortion of Scripture, and discoursed upon it ; and thereafter
prayed with great fervour; to all M'hich the friar \va8 an astonished
witness. After exercise they went to dinner, where the friar was
very civilly entertained, Welch forbearing all question and dispute
witii him for the time. When the evening came, Welch made
exercise as lie 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 wdiisper was, was soon
satisfie'd ; for after Welch's first sleep, the sound began. Eesolving
to be certain what it was, he crept silently to Welch's chamber door,
where he heard not only the sound, but the words, distinctly, and
had an example of communion betwixt God and man, such as
he thought had not been in this world. The next morning, as soon
as Welch was ready, the friar went to him, and said, that he had
lived in ignorance the whole of his life, but now he was resolved to
venture his soul with him, and thereupon declared himself a
protestant. Welch welcomed and encouraged him ; and he continued
a pi'otestant 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 be-
sieged by him with his whole army, and brought into extreme dan-
ger. Welch was minister of the town at the time, and mightily
encouraged the citizens to hold out, assuring them that God would
deliver them. In the time of the siege, a cannon ball pierced the
bed where he was lying ; upon which he got up, but would not leave
the room, till he had by solemn prayer acknowledged his deliverance.
The townsmen made a stout defence, till one of the king's cannon-
iers planted a gun so conveniently upon a rising ground, that he
could command the whole wall, upon which the inhabitants for the
most part were stationed. By this they were constrained to abandon
their post, though they had several guns there ; for no man durst to
undertake to manage them, until Welch prevailed upon the princi-
pal gunner to remount the wall, promising to assist liim in person.
The cannonier told him, that they behoved to dismount the gun upon
the rising ground, else they w^ere surely lost. Welch desired him to
aim well, that he would serve, and God v/ould 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, w^hich 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, where-
with the cannonier dismounted the king's gun at the first shot, and
the citizens returned to theff 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
I
JOHN WELCH. 307
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 tfie 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 pre-
sence. The duke went with his guard, but w^hen 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 had entered the king's room, he
kneeled, and silently prayed for wisdom and assistance. The king
then challenged him, how he durst preach in that place, since it was
against the laws of France that any man should preach within the
verge of his court? Welch answered, " Sire, if you did right, you
would come and hear me preach, and make all France hear me like-
wise. For," said he, " I preach, that you must be saved by the death
and merits of Jesus Christ, and not your own ; and I preach, that as
you are king of France, you are under the authority of no man on
earth. Those men whom you hear subject you to the pope of Eome,
which I will never do." the king replied, " Well, well, you shall
be my minister !" and having dismissed the good man he left the
city without molestation.
A short time after, in 1621, the war having been renewed, Welch .
told the inhabitants of the city, that their cup was full, and they
should no more escape. This accordingly came to pass ; for the king
took the town, but commanded de Yitry, the captain of his guard,
to enter and preserve his minister from all danger. Horses and
wagons were provided by his order, to transport Welch and his
family to Rochelle, 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 preserving 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.* He con-
* " His own sovereign was incapable of treating him (Welch) with that generosity
which he had experienced from the French monarch ; and dreading the influence of a man
who was far gone with a consumption, he absolutely refused to give him permission to re-
turn to Scotland. Mrs. Welch, by means of some of her mother's relations at court, ob-
tained access to James, and petitioned him to grant this liberty to her husband. The fol-
lowing singular conversation took place on that occasion. His majesty asked her who was
her father. She replied, 'Mr- Knox.' ' Knox and Welch,' exclaimed he, ' the devil never
made such a match as that.' ' It's right likely , Sir,' said she, ' for we never 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, lift-
308 SCOTS WORTHIES.
tinued therefore to languish in London a considerable time: his
disease was regarded by some as a sort of leprosy, and the physi-
cians declared he had received poison. A distressing languor per-
vaded his frame, togetlier 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 insensi-
ble, almost like a horn. But when, in the time of his weakness, he
was desired to remit in some degree his excessive painfulness, hig
answer was, he had his life from God, and therefore it should be
spent in his service.
His friends importuned the king exceedingly, that if he might not
return to Scotland, he might at least have liberty to preach in Lon-
don ; 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 em-
braced the liberty ; and having access to a lecturer's pulpit, he went
and preached both long and fervently. This proved to be his last
service ; for, after he had ended his sermon, he returned to his cham-
ber, and within two hours, quietly and without pain, resigned his
spirit into his Maker's hands, in the 53d 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 seeking the Lord, or his fruitfulness in
converting 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 L-vine, 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 vin-
tage 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 learn-
ing. One of his hearers, who was afterwards minister at Muirkirk
in Kyle, used to say, " that no man could bear 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 any-
thing, except his dispute with Abbot Brown, in which he shows that
his learning was not behind his other virtues ; and his Armaged-
don,* or Meditations upon the enemies of the church, and their
destruction ; a piece which is rarely to be found.
ing up both his hands, ' for, an they had been threo lads, I had never braiked my three
kingdoms in peace. She again urged her request, that he would give her husband his
native air. ' Give hina his native air,' replied the king, ' give him the devil ;' — a morsel
which James had often in his mouth. ' Give that to your hungry courtiers I' — said she,
offended at his profaneness. He told her at last, that if she v\rould persuade her husband to
submit to the bishops, he would allow him to return to Scotland. Mrs. Welch lifting up
hrr apron and holding it toward the king, replied in the true spirit of her father, ' Please
your majesty, I'd rather kep his head there !' " — Dr. M'Crie.
• Mountain of Megiddoj—cr hilJ of robbers.
ROBERT BOYD. 309
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 con-
ferred on him, about the year 1594. Robert Rollock was then prin-
cipal 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 spiri-
tual benefit to his soul, which circumstances he considered as the
main instruments, 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 them-
selves in learning and in elegant accomplishments ; and the unset-
tled state of affairs in Scotland induced Boyd to leave his native
country. Keenly bent on the pursuit of his studies, more especially
theology, it was natural that he should retire to a country where
these could be pursued with safety, and where liberty of conscience
might be enjoyed. He left Scotland on the first of May, 1597, and
arrived at Dieppe in France six days after. Thence he proceeded to
Paris by way of Rouen — and afterwards to Poictiers. ITot finding
that convenience for frequenting religious worship and assemblies
that he desired, he left Poictiers, and came to Thenars. 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 providence of God disposed of
nim in such a way that his talents began to shine forth with emi-
nence.
While at Thenars, in 1598, he became 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, besides devoting considerable attention to the culti-
310 SCOTS WORTHIES.
yation 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 tlie year 1599, Boyd was requested to accept
the professorship of ])hik)SO})hy, in the university of Montauban —
to which he was admitted in November of that year. This ap-
pointment 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 stimulated,
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 congregation
of the church of Yertuil to supply the place of their late pastor,
he resigned his professorship, and was inducted into the holy office
of the ministry, in ]S^ovember 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, whenever he should receive one. The church
of Yertuil in Angouleme being vacant, they sent delegates to him,
desiring his consent to become their pastor ; to which he agreed,
upon condition, that, if he should have a call to any university
where he might exercise the office both of a pastor and a professor,
they would not object to him resigning his charge. This being
admitted, he was, after due examination and trial, ordained by the
synod, and settled in the church.
In November, 1605, he received a pressing 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 lie 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 afterwards pro-
fited 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 Eochelle, and of his early
friend Dr. Eivet, 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, discharging 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 occa-
sioned 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 per-
manent settlement — on the contrary indeed, he felt a strong desire
ROBERT BOYD.. 31X
to settle in France. TTith 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 remain in France, and the
success which had attended his duties as a professor, it was so order-
ed that he should return to Scotland.
King James YI., who was anxious to increase the fame of the
universities in his dominions, having heard of the learning of Boyd,
wrote to Lord Duplessis Mornay to permit him to return, and also
addressed a letter to himself desiring him to come, and fill the
situation of principal of the college of Glasgow, then vacant. This
offer, coming direct from the king, could not be resisted ; and,
notwithstanding his previous determination to remain in France, he
with great difliculty 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 enjoj^ed his acquaintance, the elders
of the reformed church, as a token of affection, assembled at his
house, the day previous to his departure (October 1st, 1614), and
23resented him with a testimonial of their esteem, love, and good-will
towards 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 pre-
sented him also with ample testimonials from the synod of the
province; and the church and academy gave him a large silver
basin, on which were engraved his nam.e and crest.
E"ext day, October 2nd, Boyd and his fiimily left Saumur, and
were accompanied out of the town, and some part on their way, by
the ministers and elders, the masters of the college, and a considerable
number 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 wa§ installed into the
office of principal of the college of Glasgow, by the chancellor and
senate, to whom he ^^roduced 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 expected to be relieved from personally
correcting the scholars — eating at the college table, &c. — all of
which they conceded to him, and prayed that the Lord might
accompany his labours and management with his grace and blessing.
Immediately thereafter he commenced the duties of his office, and
nothing appears to have disturbed his tranquillity for some time.
In October following a daughter was born to him ; and, three days
before that event, his house in the college — which on his arrival was
undergoing repair, and towards which the town of Glasgow gave five
hundred merks — had been prepared for his reception.
In answer to a letter from Boyd, in 1616, his friend, Scot of Elie,
remarks, that "men of all ranks who have heard of your teaching and
learning, are very joyous, well pleased, and content, and thank God
312 SCOTS WORTfflES.
for you. I hope your hard entry and beginning shall have a kind,
soft and sweet progress, and a right joyful end, and success both to
yourself and the hail country." We may presume from this, that
those who liad been instrumental in promoting him to the situation
of principal, had entertained 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, w^hen 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 induced him to
resign his charge.
During the year 1617, nothing particular occurred to disturb him
in the performance 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 presence,
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 assimi-
late to that of England, in government and ceremonies. By means
of this TYhock Assembly^ it was therefore resolved that five of the
chief English ceremonies should be practised in the Scottish church,
commonly styled the Perth Artides^^' nonconformity to which
brought about such a train of persecution and suffering upon the
people of Scotland and the ministers, that at last it ended in open
resistance to the armed forces brought to compel 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 Assemblies, and did not interfere
publicly with the controversies which took place after 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 per-
ceived that he favoured their opponents, they, by means of their emis-
saries, construed all his words and actions into the worst of motives.
About this time Robert Bruee, 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 tj the king, Boyd, in order that he might avoid his
displeasure, and escape the enmity of the bishops, resolved to demit
* 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 noblemt^n 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 appro-
bation from Heaven, likening the same to the thunderings and lightnings at the giving of
the law of i\loses.' "
ROBERT BOYD. « 313
his office, and retire to his estate in Carrick. He was strongly
advised against this step by his friends; but, notwithstanding their
earnest intreaties, 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
contributed to hasten his death.
In July, this year, he received an invitation to return to Saumur,
to be colleague of 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 protestant 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 w^orthily the duties of his double
charge, as principal and minister of Govan. 2nd. The correction of
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
leisure to perfect. 4th. That he was determined neither to acquiesce
in nor agree with the articles of Perth Assembly. 5th. That he had
not made any provision for his family ; and that his estate, being
neglected by the present * occupiers, required his personal superin-
tendence, in order that it might not be altogether lost ; and besides,
that he had originally undertaken the office of principal on trial
only. But what more immediately brought about his determination
to follow up this resolution, was the follow^ing : — at the dispensing
of the Sacrament, 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 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 principal, accompanied by the
masters of the college, went to the archbishop and reproved 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 enraged at this free admo-
nition 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 lie would not sit in Rome and strive with the jpojpe.
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 at Trochrig, he remained at Glasgow for a few months ; and
while there, some dependents of the bishop, (it is supposed,) broke
into his house and took away several papers relating to the affairs of
the college, regarding the loss of which he was unkindly used by the
regents, as they threatened to compel him to make restitution ; and
S14: • SCOTS WORTfflES.
it was suspected that the whole affair had been planned for the
purpose of giving him trouble and annoyance. However he got rid
of all his difficulties, and arrived at Trochrig in November.
On October 17th, 1622, he received a letter from archbishop
Spottiswood, offering him the divinity chair of the university of
Edinburgh, wliich was backed by the magistrates, and also b}^ the
masters of the college, notwithstanding his known sentiments against
conformity. Having accepted 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 ap-
pointing to such an office, a person who had been so lately turned
out of a similar one, on account of nonconformity. Andrew Ram-
say 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 ITovember 23d, 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 command 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. Andrew's and his majesty, a
peremptory order arrrived, on the last day of January, 1623, order-
ing them again to call Boyd before them, and to urge him to con-
form ; but if he refused, himself, his wife, and family, were to be
banished from the town — and the provost and bailies were threat-
ened on their peril to see this put in execution. Boyd, having com-
peared 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 noncomformity
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 dis-
satisfied ; and the treatment of Boyd, and other learned and pious
men, prepared the way for the ultimate overthrow of prelacy in
Scotland.
After this Boyd returned again to his estate of Trochrig, where he
remained in peace and tranquillity for about three years. His ene-
mies were determined, however, that he should not remain long
without feeling their enmity ; for on the 24th June, 1624, there came
an order from the council, that he should be confined to the bounds
of Carrick, on account of his noncomformity 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 permis-
^on to come to Glasgow in the beginning of October. Bruce, in
ROBERT BOYD. 315
answering liim, states that the bishop would do anything with safety
to satisfy him ; but he conld not grant him a license to pass the
bounds, as he was not present when the order for his confinement
took place ; yet if he had anything to do in Glasgow, h.e might
come and do it, and he would take no notice of his coming, provided
he came secretly, and transacted his affaii*s in as quiet a manner as
possible.
"When Boyd came to Glasgow with his son, old affection and re-
spect 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 after-
wards most sorely repented. 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, Kobert Boyd of Trochrig, undersubscribing, having learned and
considered the reasons and motives laid before me by ane reverend
father in God, James, archbishop of Glasgow, and some other my
loving and Christian friends, and weighed more deeply than of be-
fore the necessity of employing the Lord's talent in the exercise of
my calling to his glory and the good of the kirk, whairunto ray ab-
stinence from conformity to the five articles of the late Perth Assem-
bly has been hitherto the chiefest lett and hinderance, do here in end
faithfully promise to give obedience thereunto in due time and place,
craving humbly his majesty to remitt all ofifence conceived against
me for my former delay and off-putting, and of his royal clemency
to vouchsafe me his wonted favour and acceptation, as to one resolved
to live and die, by the grace of Almighty God, his majesty's most
loyal, humble and obedient servant. "Written and subscribed with
my hand at Glasgow, this 25th of October, 1624.
"BoBEET Boyd of Trochrig."
Notwithstanding this apparent submission to the Perth articles, we
find an almost immediate regret at the writing of this letter. He
adds : " Thus far have I yielded in my simplicity and weakness, and
yet with an honest and upright mind, according to my mean judg-
ment." The following conditions were to be insisted on by him,
should he agree to return to his former office — and were to be made
good by the town, kirk, and college of Glasgow : — " 1st, To read but
once a week on the common heads of divinity. 2d, To preach in the
college kirk at 7 o'clock on the sabbath-day morning, except from
laureation to Lukesmas,* that the college be convened again. 3d,
Kot to be burdened with the chastisement of the scholars either pri-
vately or publicly, but every regent should chastise his own, or else
the superior, all in public. 4th, Not to meddle with the exercise or
• From 2d April till 18th October.
316 SCOTS WORTHIES.
common head in presbytery. 5th, To repair both my dwelling-
place and the yard according to my direction. 6th, To agree with
the minister of Govan for the teind hay that I may keep a naig
therewith. 7th, Tliat my stipend be as it was before, only defalking
the glebe and small teinds : and of the town I require these two
things, for testification of their willingness and inclination to my re-
calling and replacing : 1. That they will modify to me a certain sum
fur the charges of my transport back to them again, and losses that I
will incur thereby, according to their own discretion. 2. That they
gratify me thus far, as that they will make my servant burges and
Ireeman of his craft."
Tliese conditions were only as memoranda to refresh his memory,
in case he should return to Glasgow ; and it shows his cautiousness,
arising probably from his former experience, that previous to his
acceptance, everything should be explicitly laid down and thoroughly
understood. However, with all his forethought he was destined
never to resume his office ; for, what between the bishop, who was
anxious that his cousin Dr. Strang should get the situation, and the
share in the business which was attributed to the king, who was now
approaching his latter end — difficulties were thrown in the way
which operated as barriers to his reappointment. His enemies,
besides, having come to the knowledge of the letter referred to
above, made the most of it to serve their own purposes, and to induce
others to follow his example ; and many were indeed staggered
thereby. But, as the proposal was not sanctioned by the king, and
as his election consequently never took place, it was conscientiously
believed by his friends, that the whole affair was an invention of the
prelatical party, to bring Boyd into discredit with those who stood
out against the articles of the Perth Assembly.
Notwithstanding what had taken place, his friends still expected
he would return to Glasgow, and resume his office. His friend and
cousin, Mr. Zacharias Boyd, who warmly espoused his cause, wrote
to him from Glasgow, April, 1625, as follows : — " This day I spoke
to the bishop with Mr. Bell concerning you. We found him in a
very good temper towards you. He is come to this point, that if you
will write to him that you will conform yourself against pasch next
coming, save one, he will receive you presently into the colledge and^
give you up all your writings. I have given you the whole that h< '
said in a few words. Therfor, Sir, I pray you, hast to us and b(
here before the 23d of this moneth, for that day the bishop goes tc
Saint Andrew's to a meeting ther, wher he is to confer with Doctoi
Strang, who is to be at that meeting. I hope you will not deliberat
much. I pray you come and offer yourself to the bishop's will, who'
loves you. I am in hast and can WTite no more, being just running
out to find a bearer to send this straight to you. I pray God give
his counsell. Glasgow, April 15th, 1625."
In December following, he received an invitation from the heritoi'S
of Paisley to accept of the charge in that place ; and as the letter
requesting his acceptance forms what has since been termed a call
from a congregation to a minister, even where a presentation had
been given by the patron, it follows entire ; —
HOBERT BOYD. ^ 317
" Eeverend Sir,
" Having been long destitute of a minister, to every
one of our particular greives, and to the general regrate of every true
professor, according to God's providence and the desire of our own
hearts, ye were called to us by every kind of consent requisite, and
finding from private impediments as ye wrote to us, we meaned our-
selves to the lord Eoss, a present cheif of our parish, and having the
cheifest desire of our design, whereupon his lordship being sensibly
touched went into Glasgow on Wensday last, accompanied with,
some gentlemen of the parish, who for his lordship's own special in-
terest, and for the whole parishioners in general, took occasion to
deal earnestly with the bishop of Glasgow. That by his lordship's
worthy, zealous, and carefull endeavours, we are not only in hopes,
but confident, that immediately after your return to us the bishop
will remove all whatsoever impediments as may hinder you from
using that talent, which in the self is so pretiouse and so necessary to
be applyed to us presently destitute of the sweet comfort of the
gospell, so that though your sudden departure seemed very unplea-
sant to us, and is the only reason of our present delay, we all with
one voice most earnestly desire you to repair to us with all possible
diligence, for you knew our harvest is great and the labourers are
few. And to delay the distribution of so great gifts unto us who
stand in so great present need wer a great sin in you, and a great
hinder to our edification, seeing the calling is of God, and God has
given us the hearts so earnestly to desire you, while by his provi-
dence all impediments are taken away, so every hour wishing your
presence, and assuredly expecting you with all possible diligence
that ye and we may perfect that marriage made in heaven for the
advancement of God's glory and the confirmation of our salvation,
whiles by his grace ye are so lauchfully appointed our pastor and
we your flock. And to that effect in the name of God, and for the
precious blood of Christ, hasten your coming, and by his grace we
shall ever remain,
" Yours in all obedience to serve you,
" Paisley, 18 of Decem. 1625.
" Ross
'' B. Sempill, Will. Sempill, William Wallace of Alderslie, Will.
Wodfit, Tho. Sempill, John Wallace of Ferguslie, Will. Sempill,
And. Semple, Hugh Cochran of Newton, John Homes, James Wal-
lace, James Whiteford, Bailay of Paisley, Andrew Stuart of
Wodside."
Upon this invitation Mr. Boyd came to Glasgow, toward the end
of December, in order to get matters arranged with the bishop for
his admission, which took place on the first day of January, 1626.
But as the bishop declined to collate him until he was actually
placed, and as Mr. Boyd felt a delicacy in allowing himself to be
placed until he was secured by the collation in the freedom of his
ministry, and provided with maintenance therein — he, until these
differences were adjusted, considered it prudent to retire to Carrick,
where he remained till March following. During this month he re-
318 SCOTS WORTHIES.
turned to Paisley, to enter upon his charge ; but he found things so
unpromising, judging by the reception he received from lady Aber-
corn, that he began to lose heart • and in a letter to his wife, dated
March 12, he says, — " Pray to the Lord to vouchsafe me strength
for accomplishing this charge and sustaining me under the burden
of it.
While in Paisley, his residence was appointed to be in the front
house of the abbey, into which he put some furniture and his
books ; but on Sunday, 2d April, while he was preaching in the
church, tlie Master of Paisley, with a number of followers, entered
into his house, destroyed his furniture, cast all his books about the
place, and locked the door, so that Boyd could not have admittance.
In consequence of this he complained to the lords of the secret
council, at Edinburgh, by whom the Master of Paisley and the
bailies of the town were summoned to answer to the charge laid
against them. After an examination of the affair, it was the inten-
tion of the council to have imprisoned the Master of Paisley ; but
Boyd, being unwilling that he should receive any punishment, re-
quested that he might be pardoned on condition that he expressed
sorrow for his conduct. This being assented to, the council gave
orders that Boyd should be repossessed of his house ; but on pro-
ceeding to the abbey for this purpose, it was found that the keyhole
of the door had been filled with stones, so that no entrance could be
had; and the authorities refused to force the door. Seeing how
matters stood, Boyd was about to depart ; but a rabble ©f women
having collected about the place, (the men having purposely kept
out of the way,) they began to upbraid him with opprobrious
speeches, and, in the words of a contemporary writer, " shouted and
hoyed him, and cast dirt and stones at him, so that he was forced to
leave the town, and go to Glasgow." Thence he proceeded to his
house in Carrick, sadly dispirited through this unprovoked insult ;
but he seems to have determined to bear all without complaint.
The archbishop of Glasgow, receiving information of this attack
upon Boyd, felt himself called on to interfere ; and the lady Aber-
corn, with her son, the Master of Paisley, were summoned to appear
at Edinburgh before the council, to answer for this second contempt
towards the minister. On the day appointed, they came, accom-
panied by the earl of Abercorn and a strong party of their friends,
evidently for the purpose of overawing the judgment of the court ;
and after the matter had been heard, nothing w^as done beyond
again ordering Boyd to be repossessed, — the attack made upon him
by the common people being passed over without notice.
After this last insult Boyd seems to have become quite dejected,
and to have resolved to prosecute the business no further, conceiving
a happy result altogether hopeless ; and, although Mr. Cunningham,
minister of Kilmalcolm, wrote to him by order of the presbytery,
requesting him to return and continue in the charge ; yet in his
answer to him, he intimates his firm determination to' retire, and
desires that some other person be appointed to the church.
These successive annoyances, and the trouble which each new
appointment brought with it, could not but weigh heavily on a spirit
EGBERT BOYD. 319
sucli as Boyd's — and tend to injure a constitution already labouring
under a complication of diseases. These now increased so much
that he was obliged to relinquish all idea of ever accepting any
charge; and he was compelled, December 9th, to proceed to Edin-
burgh to consult physicians. Shortly after his arrival there, his
sickness increased, and confined him to bed. He lingered on in
great pain till the 5th of January, 1627, when he departed this life
in the hope of a blessed immortality. " Ilis sickness," says a
biographer, " was but short, but his pain very great — his patience
and submission much greater. He had been but tender and weakly
through life, and much inured to the cross. He had learned to bear
it with joy, and great was his enlargement during his three weeks'
trouble at Edinburgh. He was under the foretaste of the glory
to be revealed, and under much heavenly ravishment and holy
rapture. His life had been a life of love, faith, and usefulness.
Great was his peace, and glorious were his victories, over all the
shakings and temptations which at some times he was haunted
with. They all tended to his own comfort and establishment, and
the confirmation of his friends about him."
His death was lamented by all. The bishops and those who had
opposed him acknowledged his vast learning, great wisdom, and
remarkable piety. Those who opposed the innovations and corrup-
tions of the times were almost inconsolable, at the loss of one
who, by his singular ability and wisdom, as well as his powerful
wrestlings and intercessions, was truly one of the greatest pillars
of the land ; and, had he been spared, would have been singularly
useful in this dark and difficult time. As a teacher, his exemplary
I holiness, singular learning, admirable eloquence ; his gravity, hu-
i mility, unaffected modesty, and extraordinary diligence, as well in
I his ecclesiastical as in his scholastic employments, above the rate of
I ordinary pastors and professors, drew all to a reverence, love and
! esteem for, and many even to, an admiration of him. In his
studies he was indefatigable, often sitting from morning till mid-
night, and sometimes longer, save only during such time as was
occupied in taking that sustenance which nature required. In his
diet he was very strict and severe. In his private conversation,
when he unbended himself, he was most courteous ; and among
1 those with whom he was familiar^ he was sometimes pleasant
and cheerful. In all his public lectures, piety and learning and
I eloquence strove which should get the mastery. In the exercise of
j discipline, whether in private or public, such was the severity of his
i reproofs, the earnestness of his persuasion, the authority of his
,'l injunctions, the charity and prudence of his counsels, and, so all-
'I impressive his manner, that his looks and words were more effec-
tive to reform what was amiss, than the sharpest corrections of
: others.
Ij Further : as to his character we give the following from his con-
*■ temporaries : — John Row terms him "a very learned and holy
man, eminent both in the school and the pulpit," and adds, " that
considering his great learning and extraordinary gifts, he was one
of the most humble, modest, and meek men in the ministry, in all
820 SCOTS WORTHIES.
this kingdom." John Livingstone, who knew him perfectly, ex-
presses himself thus : — " he was a man of an austere carriage,
out of a most tender heart. Notwithstanding of his rare abilities,
he had no account of himself, but a hierh account of every other
man's parts."
ROBERT BRUCE.
Robert Betjce was born about the year 1554. He was second son
to the laird of Airth, from whom he inherited the estate of Kin-
naird ; and who being at that time a baron of the best quality in the
kingdom, educated his son with the view of his becoming a lord of
session ; and for his better accomplishment, sent him to France to
study the civil law. After his return, his father enjoined him to
attend to some business of his that was then before the court, as he
had got the royal patent for his being one of these lords. But He,
whose thoughts are not as men's thoughts, having other designs with
him, began to work mightil}^ upon his conscience, so that he could
get no rest, till he was allowed to attend the divinity lectures of
Andrew Melville at St. Andrew's. To this step his mother was
greatly averse, nor would she agree to it till he gave up some lands
and casualties wherein he was infeft. This he most willingly did ;
and, shaking off all impediments, fully resolved upon an employment
more fitted to the turn of his mind.
He went to St. Andrew's sometime before Melville left the coun-
try, and continued at that university till his return. "Whilst there,
he wanted not some sharp conflicts in his mind, on the subject of his
future destination ; insomuch that upon a certain time, walking in
the fields with that holy and excellent man, James Melville, he said
to him, " Before I throw myself again into such torment of con-
science, as I have had in resisting the call to the ministry, I would
rather choose to walk through a fire of brimstone, even though it
were half a mile in length." After he had qualified himself for the
ministry, Andrew Melville, perceiving how the Lord wrought with
him, brought him over to the General Assembly in 1587, and moved
the church of Edinburgh to call him to a charge in that city.
Although he was urged by some of the brethren to enter upon the
ministry in place of James Lawson, yet he could not be prevailed
upon to accept the charge, although willing for the time to labour
ROBERT BRUCE. 321
in it ; till persuaded by the joint advice of the ministers of the city,
who in a manner entrapped him into it. For, on a time when the
sacrament was to be dispensed at Edinburgh, one of the ministers
desired him to sit by him, as he was to preach in the afternoon ; and
after having served two or three tables, went out of the church, as if
he had been to return in a little. Instead of this, however, he sent
notice to Bruce, who still sat over against the elements, that unless
he served the rest of the tables the work behoved to stop. Bruce —
not knowing but the minister had been seized of a sudden with sick-
ness, and the eyes of all being fixed on him, many entreating him
to supply the minister's place — proceeded through the remaining
services, and that with such assistance to himself, and such effect
upon the people, as had never before been seen in that place.
When afterwards urged by his brethren to receive, in the ordinary
way, the imposition of hands, he refused ; because he had already
received the material part of ordination, viz., the call of the people,
and the approbation of his brethren ; and besides, he had already
administered the sacrament of the Supper, which, by a new ordina-
tion, would seem to be made void. Having thus made trial of
the work, and experienced the blessing of God upon his labours, he
accepted the charge.
"While a minister of Edinburgh, he shone as a great light through
all the neighbouring parts of the country. The king had such a
high opinion of him, that in 1590, when he went to bring home his
queen, he, at his departure, nominated Bruce an extraordinary
councillor, and expressly desired him to acquaint himself with the
affairs of the country, and the proceedings of the council ; profess--
ing that he reposed more trust in him than in the rest of his bre-
thren, or even in all his nobles, — and in this his hopes were not
disappointed. The country, during the king's absence, was more
quiet than either before or afterward ; in consequence of which he
wrote Bruce a congratulatory letter, dated February 19th, 1590, say-
ing, " He would be obligated to him all his life, for the pains he had
taken in his absence to keep his subjects in good order." Yea, such
is said to have been his esteem for Bruce, that upon a certain occa-
sion, before many witnesses, he declared that he judged him worthy
of the half of his kingdom : but in this as in other promises, he
proved no slave to his word ; for, shortly after, he obliged this good
man, for his faithfulness, to leave the kingdom.
But still it cannot be doubted, that the respect and esteem which
he thus expressed towards him were at the time perfectly sincere.
Accordingly on his return, he made choice of Bruce to officiate at
the queen's coronation, — which was performed in the Chapel of
Holyrood-house, on Sabbath the 17th of May, 1590, in presence of
the foreign ambassadors, and a great concourse of Scottish nobility.
Bruce annointed the queen, and, assisted by the chancellor and
David Lindsay, placed the crown on her head.
'Nov was it, indeed, till about three years after this event, that his
majesty's opinion of Bruce seems to have been changed. In 1593,
the injudicious and unwarrantable lenity shown by the court to the
popish earls, — men who had been detected in the most treacherous
21
322 SCOTS WORTHIES,
designs against tlieir country — excited universal distrust, suspicion,
and alarm. Under the influence of such feelings, the synod of Fife
which met in September of that year, by way of expressing its de-
testation of their crime, solemnly excommunicated these noblemen
and their adberents ; ordaining the sentence to be communicated to
other synods, by whom it was approved, and directed to be pub-
lished. On this occasion his majesty sent for Bruce, and importu-
nately urged him not to publish it himself; and, as far as possible,
to prevent its being published by his brethren. With every disposi-
tion, however, to preserve harmony and to retain the good-will of
the king, Bruce aid not dissemble his sentiments. He resolutely
refused to do what was asked of him, and the convei'sation ter-
minated, by an insinuation on the part of James, against the disci-
pline and polity under which such measures were tolerated or sanc-
tioned.
Some time after this, being charged by the king — in a conference
which he held with the magistrates and ministers of Edinburgh —
with having favoured certain alleged treasonable designs of the earl
of Bothwell, who then atternpted to gain the good-will of the
church, he evinced a similar firmness and intrejDidity ; and, whilst
his brethren in the ministry, against whom the accusation was vao-ue
and general, contented themselves with simply appealing to their
hearers in proof of their innocence, Bruce — against whom the
charge was more specific and serious — insisted on knowing the
individuals who had thus slandered him to his majesty, and declared,
that he would not again enter the pulpit until he was legally cleared
of the crime imputed to him. James, after some shuffling, named
the master of Gray, and one Tyrie a papist, as his informers ; but on
the day fixed for examining the affair, no person appeared to make
good the charge ; and Gray, after having left the court, denied that
he had given the alleged information against Bruce, and offered tc
fight any person, his majesty excepted, who should affirm that h<
had defamed that minister.
Being a man of public spirit and heroic mind, Bruce was alwayj
pitched upon to deal in matters of high moment ; and, amongst
other things, upon the 9th of I^ovember, 1596, he, together witl
Andrew Melville and John Davidson, was directed by a council of j
the brethren, to deal with the queen concerning her religion ; anr
for want of religious exercises and virtuous occupation amongst hei
maids, .to move her to hear now and then the instructions of godb
and discreet men. They went accordingly ; but were refusec
admittance until another time.
About the same period, Bruce distinguished himself by the part
he took in defence of David Black, and by the zeal he displayed
against the suspected inroads of popery. The commissioners wh(
had been appointed to assist in conducting the case of that worthy
minister, being, by an order of the court, removed from Edinburgh ;|
the public mind, in some degree agitated by this unusual stretch of^
prerogative, soon after experienced a new cause of alarm. On th(
morning of the 17th December, a day memorable in the history of]
the church of Scotland, statements were circulated that Iluntly, onei
ROBERT BRUCE. 323
of the popish earls, had been privately at court, and had prevailed
on the king to issue an order which had just been intimated ; — that
twenty-four of the citizens, best affected towards the ministers, and
most distinguished for their zeal, should leave the town ; and, as
some added, that his friends and retainers were at hand, waiting for
orders to enter the capital. This information, which was to a
certain degree correct, was, as might be expected, a source of
considerable alarm to Bruce and his brethren in the ministry. It
being the day of the weekly sermon, they agreed that Balcanquhal,
whose turn it was to preach, should desire the barons and burgesses
present, to meet in the Little Church, to advise along with them
what ought to be done. The meeting took place after sermon ; and
two persons from each of the estates were appointed to wait on the
king, who happened at that time to be in the Tolbooth with the lords
of session. Having obtained an audience, Bruce told his majesty
that they were sent by the noblemen, barons and citizens, convened
in the Little Church, to lay before him the dangers which threatened
religion. '' What dangers see you ?" said the king. Bruce men-
tioned their apprehensions as to Huntly. " What have you to do
with that ?" said his majesty. " And how durst you convene
against my proclamation ?" — " We dare more than that," said lord
Lindsay, " and will not suffer religion to be overthrown." Upon
this, the king retired to another apartment and shut the door. The
deputies therefore returned, and reported that they had not been able
to obtain a favourable answer to their petitions ; and Bruce proposed,
that, deferring the consideration of their grievances for the present,
they should merely pledge themselves to be constant in their
profession and defence of religion. This proposal having been
received with acclamation, he besought them, as they regarded the
credit of the cause, to be silent and cpiiet. As they were thus
proceeding, however, an unknown person entered, exclaiming, " Fly,
save yourselves ! the papists are coming to massacre you 1" to which
another rejoined, " The sword of the Lord and of Gideon !" " These
are not our weapons," said Bruce, attempting to calm the Assembly ;
but the cry of " To arms ! to arms !" being raised on the street, they
immediately rushed out, and being joined by a crowd already
collected without, the panic spread ; and for about an hour, confusion
and riot prevailed throughout the city. The tumult was at length
quelled by the joint exertions of the magistrates and ministers ; but
the king, the day after, hastily left the city and removed to
Linlithgow ; from whence he issued a severe proclamation, com-
manding all judges and officers to repair to him, and forbidding all
noblemen and barons from assembling without his permission.
Upon the Sabbath following, Bruce, in preaching from the 51st
psalm, declared, " The removal of your ministers is at hand, our
lives will be bitterly sought after ; but ye shall see with your eyes,
that God shall guard us, and be our buckler and defence," — a saying
which was soon. in part accomplished ; for on the day following, the
king sent a charge from Linlithgow against him and the other minis-
ters of Edinburgh, to enter themselves in ward at the castle there,
within six hours, under pain of horning. Though conscious of their
324 SCOTS WORTHIES.
innocence, yet seeing that the king's anger wag kindled againsf
them, they thought proper at the advice of their friends to withdraw,
and for a time conceal themselves from the effects of his displeasure.
Bruce and Balcanquhal accordingly went into England ; Watson and
Balfour concealed themselves in Fife. They wrote apologies for
their conduct, in which they vindicated themselves from the asper-
sions thrown upon them, and assigned reasons for their flight.
As soon as it was known that they had fled, they were publicly
denounced rebels. Great keenness was shown to find some evidence
of their accession to the tumult ; and when this failed, recourse was
had to fabrication. A letter, which on the day after, Bruce, at the
request of the convened barons, wrote to lord Hamilton requesting
his countenance and assistance in support of the church's interests,
was altered and vitiated in such a manner, as to make it express an
approbation of the riot. Conscious, however, of the fraud, the court
did not dare to make any public use of this vitiated document ; but
it was circulated in private, with the view of blasting the reputation
of Bruce and his friends.
"When in favour with the court in the year 1589, he had obtained
a gift for life, out of the lands of the abbey of Arbroath, which he
enjoyed for a number of years. In 1598, the king privately
disposed of this to lord Hamilton. He at fii-st stirred up the tenants
of the abbey to resist payment, and when this expedient failed, he
avowed the deed. Bruce signified his willingness to yield up the
gift, provided the king retained it in his own hands, or applied it to
the use of the church ; but learning that it was to be bestowed on
lord Hamilton, he resolved to defend his right, although his majesty,
by threats and persuasions, endeavored to induce the lords of session
to give a decision in Hamilton's favour. They, however, found that
Bruce's title was valid and complete. Upon this, the king, not
content with storming at the judges and his opponent's counsel, and
determined to obtain his object, " wakened the process" by means of
two ministers in Angus, to whom he transferred part of the annuity.
And notwithstanding a private settlement of the dispute, which was
sanctioned by the lords of session, he afterwards so set aside, and
altered the minute of court, that by it Bruce was deprived of the
greater part of his annuity, and made to hold the remainder at the
royal pleasure : upon which he threw up the gift in disdain.
But all this was nothing more than the drops before the shower, or
as the gathering of waters before an inundation. This, though
allowed to return from his concealment, Bruce afterwards experienced
to be the case ; for the king having for some time laboured to get
prelacy established in Scotland, not only discharged him from
preaching in Edinburgh, but even forced him to go into exile,
because he would not comply with his measures ; and in particular,
because he refused to give praise to God in public for his majesty's
deliverance from the pretended treason, in 1600, until he wa& made
certain of the crime. He embarked at Queensferry, on the 3rd of
November the same year, and arrived at Dieppe on the 8th of that
month.
Although, by the king's permission, he returned home the year
ROBERT BRUCE. 325
following, yet because he would not acknowledge Gowrie's conspi-
racy to be treason, exculpate his majesty in such places as he should
appoint, and crave pardon for his long distrust and disobedience,
&c., he could not be admitted to his place and office again, but was
commanded by the king to keep ward in his own house at Kinnaird.
After the king's departure to England, however, he had some
respite for about a year or more ; but on the 20th of February, 1605,
he was summoned to compear before the commission of the General
Assembly, to hear and see himself removed from his charge at
Edinburgh. In his absence, they had declared the place vacant ;
now, they intimated the sentence, and Livingstone was commissioned
by the king to see it put in execution. Bruce appealed ; they
attempted to prohibit him from preaching ; but he disregarded
them. In July thereafter, chancellor Seaton informed him of the
king's express order discharging him from preaching any more ; but
said, he would not use his authority in this, and would only request
him to desist for nine or ten days ; to which he consented, thinking
it but of small moment for so short a time. But he soon felt how deep
the smallest deviation from his Master's cause and interest might go
into the devoted heart ; for that very night, as he himself afterwards
declared his body became so feverish, and he felt such terror of
conscience, as made him resolve to obey such commands no more.
Upon the 8th of August following, he was charged to enter
himself in ward at Inverness, within the space of ten days, under
pain of horning ; which order he obeyed upon the ITth following.
In this place he remained for the space of four years, teaching every
Wednesday and Sabbath forenoon, and reading public prayers every
other night ; and his labours were greatly blessed. By means of
his ministry, a dark country was wonderfully illuminated ; many
were brought to Christ, and a seed was sown which remained and
was manifest for many years afterward.
When he returned from Inverness to his own house, even though
his son had procured a license for him, he could find nothing
but trouble and vexation from the ministers of the presbyteries of
Stirling and Linlithgow ; and for no other reason but declaiming
against the vices in which many of them indulged. At last he
obtained liberty from the council to remove his family to another
house he had at Monkland ; but, because of the archbishop of
Glasgow, he waa again forced to retire to Kinnaird.
Thus this good man was tossed about, and obliged to go from place
to place ; and in this state he continued, until by the king's order he
was summoned before the council, on September 19th, 1621, to
answer for transgressing the law of his confinement, &c. When he
appeared, he pleaded the favour expressed towards him by his
majesty when in Denmark, and wdthal purged himself of the
accusation laid against him : " and yet, notwithstanding all these,
(said he,) the king hath exhausted both my estate and person,
and has left me nothing but my life, and that, too, apparently he is
seeking ! I am prepared to suffer any punishment ; only I am
careful not to suffer as a malefactor or evil-doer." A charge was
then given him to enter himself in ward in the castle of Edinburgh,
826 SCOTS WORTHIES.
where he continued till the first of January. Though the bishops,
his delators, chose to absent themselves on that day, he was brought
before the council, and the king's pleasure intimated to him, viz.,
that he should return to his own house, until the 21st of April, and
thence remove again to Inverness, of which he was to confine
himself, during the king's pleasure.
Here he accordingly lemained until September, 1624, when he ob-
tained liberty to return from his confinement to settle some domestic
aftairs ; but the conditions of his license were so severe, that he re-
solved to return to Inverness. In the mean time, however, the king
died, and therefore he was not urged to resume his confinement ; for,
although king Charles I. renewed the charge against him some years
after, yet he continued for the most part in his own house, preaching
and teaching wherever he had occasion.
About this time the parish of Larbert was vacant ; where it was
without stipend, he repaired the church at his own expense, and dis-
charged all the duties of a Christian minister, with great success.
Many, besides the inhabitants of the parish, attended upon his
preaching with much benefit ; and it would appear, that about this
time Henderson, then minister of Leuchars, was converted by his
ministry.
At this place it was his custom, after the first sermon, to retire by
himself some time for private praj^er; and on one occasion, some
noblemen who had to ride to a distance sent the beadle to learn if
there were any appearance of his coming in. Tlie man returned,
saying, " I think he will not come to day ; for I oveijieard him say
to another, ' I protest I will not go unless thou goest with me.' "
However, in a little time he came, accompanied by no man, but full
of the blessing of Christ : for his speech was with much evidence
and demonstration of the Spirit. It was easy for his hearers to per-
ceive that he had been on the mount with God, and that he had
indeed brought that God whom he had met in private, into Ma
'mother's Tiouse^ and into the chamhcrs of her that conceived him !
Some time before his death, being at Edinburgh, where through
weakness he often kept his chamber, several godly ministers, who
had met about some business connected with the church, hearing he
was in town, came and gave him an account of the prelate's actings.
After this he prayed, adverting to the facts they had stated, and
deploring the state of the church, in such a manner, that during the
whole time there was such a powerful emotion felt by all present,
and such a sensible down-pouring of tlie spirit, that they could
hardly contain themselves. Wemyss of Lathukar, who was present,
said, at departing, " O how strange a man this is, for he knocketh
down the Spirit of God upon us all ;" referring to his having difi*er-
ent times knocked with his fingers upon the table in the time of
prayer.
About the same period, he related a strange dream that had
occurred to him. He thought he saw a long broad book, with black
boards, flying in the air, with many black fowls like crows flying
about it ; and as it touched any of them, they fell down dead ; and
that he heard a voice speak to him, saying, IMc est ira Dei contra
ROBERT BRUCE. 337
^astores ccclesice Scoticanm /* upon which he fell a weeping, praying
that he might be kept faithful, and not be one of those who were
thus struck down by the torch of God's wrath, for deserting the
truth. He said, when he awakened he found his pillow drenched
with teal's.
" Upon one occasion," says Livingstone in his memoirs, " I went
to Edinburgh to see him, in company with the tutor of Bonnington.
When we called for him at eight o'clock in the morning, he told us
he was not inclined for company ; and, on being urged to tell us the
cause, he answered, that when he went to bed he had a good mea-
sure of the Lord's presence, but that he had wrestled about an hour
or two before we came in, and had not yet got access ; and so we
left him. At another time, I went to his house, but saw him not till
very late. When he came out of his closet, his face was foul with
weeping ; and he told me, that that day he had been thinking on
what torture and hardships Dr. Leigh ton, our countryman, had been
Eut to at London f and added, if I had been faithful, I might have
ad the pillory and some of my blood shed for Christ, as well as he,
but he hath got the crown from us all.' " " I heard him once say,"
the same writer declares, " ' I would desire no more at my first ap-
Eeal from king James, but one hour's converse with him : I know ha
as a conscience, I made him once weep bitterly at Holyroodhouse.'
And upon another occasion, in reference to his death, he said, ' I
wonder how I am kept so long here : I have lived two years already
in violence ; meaning, that he was that much beyond seventy years
of age.' "J
In such manner did this bright gtar set in our horizon. There
were none, in his time, who preached with such manifestations of the
power of the Spirit ; and no man had more seals of his ministry ;
yea many of his hearers thought, that no man since the days of the
apostles, ever spoke with such power ; and although he was no
BoanergeSj being of a slow but grave delivery, yet he spoke with
such authority and weight, as became the oracles of the living God.
Some of the most stout-hearted of his hearers were ordinarily made
to tremble ; and by thus having the door, which had formerly been
shut against Jesus Christ, as by an irresistible power thrown open,
and the secrets of their hearts made manifest, they oftentimes went
away under deep convictions. In prayer he was short, especially in
public ; but " every word or sentence he spoke was as a bolt shot to
* This is the anger of God against the pastors of the Scottish Church !
t This was the famous Leighton, doctor of divinity in the two universities of St.
Andrew's and Leyden, who, for writing of Zion's plea against prelacy, was apprehended at
London by two ruffians, brought before archbishop Laud, and sentenced, besides a fine of
£10,000, to be tied to a stake, and receive thirty-six stripes with a triple cord, and then to
stand two hours in the pillory, (which he did on a cold winter night) and then to have his
ear cut, his face fired, and his nose slit ; and the same to be repeated that day se'nnight, and
his other ear cut off, with the slitting of the other side of his nose, and burning his other
cheek. All this was executed with the utmost rigour, and then he was sent prisoner to
the fleet, where he continued, till upon a petition to the parliament in 1640, he was re-
leased, and got for his reparation a vote of £6000, which it is said was never paid, and
made a warden of that prison wherein he had been so long confined ; but through infirmity
and bad treatment he did not long survive, being then seventy-two years of age. See this
related more at length in Stevenson's history. Vol. IIL p. 948.
X Livingstone's JNlemorable Characters, p. 74.
328 SCOTS WORTHIES.
heaven." He spent much of his time in private prayer. He had a
very notable faculty in searching the scriptures, and explaining the
most obscure mysteries therein. He had also much inward exercise
of conscience regarding his own case, and was sometimes tempted,
even concerning that grand fundamental truth — the being of a God ;
insomuch that it was almost customary to him to say, as he did when
he first spoke in the pulpit, " I think" it a great matter to believe
there is a God. By such experience he w^as the better fitted to deal
"with others under the like tempations. Having a very majestic
countenance, his appearance in the pulpit was good. His delivery
was solemn, impressive, and commanding; and to apply to his ser-
mons the reverse of the figure by which one of his hearers described
his prayers, '^ every word or sentence he spoke was like a bolt shot
from heaven."
As a writer, Bruce may be regarded as having been, for his time,
both substantial and eloquent. The forementioned apology ; his let-
ters to M. Espignol, the duke of Parma, Col. Semple and others ;
and above all, his five sermons on the Lord's Supper, together with
his miscellaneous sermons, entitled him to this character. But it is
more especially for his services and 6ufi*erings in. the cause of civil
and religious liberty, that he is entitled to the respect and gratitude
of posterity ; even as it was by these, especially, that he earned the
esteem and admiration of his contemporaries. For some time pre-
vious to his death, which happened in August 1631, he was through
age and infirmity, mostly confined to his chamber. Being fre-
quently visited by friends and acquaintances, he was on one occasion
asked by one of them, how matters stood betwixt God and his soul?
He made this reply, " When I was young, I was diligent, and lived
by faith on the Son of God ; but now I am old and not able to do so
much, and yet he condescends to feed me with lumps of sense and ex-
perience." On the morning of the day on which he died — his sick-
ness consisting chiefly in the weakness of age — he came to breakfast ;
and having, as usual, eaten an ^^^^ he said to his daughters, " I think
I am yet hungry, ye may bring me another ^gg^"^ But instantly
thereafter, falling into deep meditation, and after having mused a
I'ttle, he said, '^ Hold, daughter, my Master calls me !" Upon these
words, his sight failed him ; and calling for his family Bible, but
finding he could not see, he said, " Cast up to me the eighth chapter
of the epistle to the Romans, and set my finger on these words, lam
^persuaded that neither death nor Ufe^ c&c, shall he able to separate me
fro7)i the love of God which is in Christ Jesus my Lord. Now,"
said he, " is my finger upon them ?" and being told it was, he said,
" Now God be with you my children ; I have breakfasted with you,
and shall sup with my Lord Jesus Christ this night." And thus,
like Abrahani of old, this eminent saint and servant of God gave
up the ghost in a good old age, and was gathered to his people.
JOSIAS WELCa 329
JOSIAS WELCH.
This eminent minister of the gospel was a younger son of the famous
John Welch of Ayr, and Elizabeth Knox, daughter of the great
Eeformer. As might be expected from such parents, he received a
moat liberal and religious education. But what proved more espe-
cially the source of his reputation was, that he was heir to his father's
graces and virtues. Although he had received all the branches of
useful learning, required for the ministry ; yet prelacy being then
prevalent in Scotland, he kept back for some time from the office,
not being clear in his own mind about entering into it by the door
of episcopacy.
But some time after, it so fell out, that meeting with worthy Mr.
Blair, (who was then a minister at Bangor in Ireland,) he was ex-
horted and solicited to go over with him, under the assurance that
there he would find work enough, and he hoped success likewise.
This accordingly was the case ; for, upon his going thither, he was
highly honoured of the Lord, to bring the covenant of grace to the
people at the Six-mile-water ; and having also preached some time at
Oldstone, he was afterwards settled at Tempi e-patrick, where with
great vigilance and diligence, he exercised his office, and, by
the blessing of God upon his labours, gained many seals of his
ministry.
But Satan, envying the success of the gospel in that quarter,
stirred up the prelatical clergy against him ; and in May, 1632, the
bishop of Down caused to cite him, together with Blair, Livingstone,
and Dunbar ; and on their compearing, urged them to conform, and
give their subscription to that effect. But they answered with great
boldness, that there was no law in that kingdom requiring this ; yet,
notwithstanding, they were all four deposed by him from the office
of the holy ministry.
After this, Welch continued some time preaching in his own house,
where he had a large audience ; and such was his desire to gain souls
to Christ, that he commonly stood in a door looking towards a gar-
den, that he might be hoard by those without as well as within ; in
consequence of which, being of a weakly constitution, he contracted
a cold which occasioned his death in a short time after.
He continued in this way, until May, 1634, when by the interces-
sion of lord Castlestuart with the king in their behalf, he and his bre-
thren received a grant of six months' liberty from the bishop. This
freedom he most gladly embraced ; but he had preached only a few
330 SCOTS WORTHIES.
weeks in his own pulpit before his illness increased, so as to prevent his
continuing his labours. He died very soon after. The short history
of his life may be summed up in the words of one who knew him
well, who haa been his companion in labour and in suffering, and
who could well appreciate the virtues by which he was adorned. On
the Sabbath afternoon before his death, which was on Monday fol-
lowing, " I heard," says Livingstone, " of his sickness, and came to
him about eleven o'clock at night, and Mr. Blair came about two
hours thereafter. He had many gracious discourses, as also some
wrestling and exercise of mind. One time he cried out, ' Oh for
hypocrisy !' on which Blair said, * See how Satan is nibbling at his
heels before he enter into glory !' A very little before he died, be-
ing at prayer by his bedside, and the word ' Victory' coming out of
my mouth, he took hold of my hand, desiring me to forbear a little ;
and clapping his hands, cried out. Victory, Victory, Victory for
evermore !' — he then desired me to go on, and in a little aiter ex-
pired. Ilis death happened on the 23rd of June, 1634."
He died in the flower of his youth, leaving only one son behind
him, viz., John Welch, afterwards minister of Irongray in Gallow-
way.
JOHN GORDON, YISCOUNT KENMURE.
This memoir may be reckoned more an account of the latter days
thaa of the whole life of the nobleman, whose title it bears ; as com-
paratively little is known of him, so long as he was distinguished
only by the appellation of John Gordon of Lochinvar. It is certain,
however, that he was born in the year 1599. His father, Sir Robert
Gordon, was the tenth in lineal descent of that ancient family, who
had been proprietors of Lochinvar for more than three centuries
* This John Welch was ejected from his parish under Bishop Fairfoul's act. In 1651,
Episcopacy was established at the mere will of the King. All acts in favour of Presby-
tery were rescinded; Patronage was restored, to be a deadweight upon the Church; and all
ministers who would not conform, and who would not receive ordination from the Bishops,
were ejected from their parishes. By this act, commonly called Bishop Fairfoul's act, he
having urged it, assuring the government rot ten ministers would refuse. Nearly 400
churches were shut up in one day. Among those who were ejected was John Welch,
Minister at Irongray. When he was apprehended, his whole parish assembled around
him, clung to him on all sides, and refused to part. They followed him to the water of
Cluden, where, after prayer, Mr. Welch mounted his horse and rode quickly away, the
people running after him, and rending the air with their cries.
JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE. 331
prior to this period. And we learn from the peerage of Scotland,
that his mother was lady Isabel Ruthven, daughter of William
Euthven, first earl of Gowrie. The ancient family of Gordon, very
early embraced the principles of the reformation, and were devotedly
attached to the presbyterian form of worship. Wodrow informs us
that a branch of the Lochinvar family had become converts to the
principles of Wickliffe, and that they received into their house seve-
ral of his adherents who had itinerated to Scotland to propagate the
ti'uth. So early as 1574, the well-known Eobert Campbell of Kin-
zeancleugh, and John Davidson, minister of Prestonpans, who was
then under concealment, paid a visit to Sir John Gordon, grandfather
to the subject of this brief memoir, atEusco castle; a visit which, in
all probability, would not have taken place, had not Sir John been of
a kindred spirit.
It is uncertain whether lord Kenmure enjoyed the advantages of
an early religious education, while under the paternal roof, or not ;
but we are safe to conclude, that his religious impressions, if not at
first received from the famous John Welch, were matured and con-
firmed by that celebrated man, while in exile in the kingdom of
France. Kenmure, while resident in that country, according to the
custom of the times among young men in prosecution of their studies,
was an inmate of Welch's family ; and, it cannot be doubted, that,
witnessing the distinguished piety which marked the whole of that
good man's ministerial life, and sharing in the conversations and
habits of a family so singularly holy, he could not but, by the rich-
ness and freeness of divine grace, imbibe a similar spirit. And, that
he there became a subject of the Eedeemer's kingdom, is evident,
not only from his exemplary deportment, upon his return from the
continent; but also from the anxiety he manifested to provide and
disseminate the blessings of a gospel ministry to those around him.
Anwoth, the parish in which Eusco, the family residence was situ-
ated, enjoyed at that time the benefit of public worship only every
alternate sabbath, in consequence of its being united to other two
parishes. To a pious mind like Kenmure's, this was a lamentable
grievance ; and therefore he immediately set about obtaining a dis-
junction, in which, after much delay, and great difiiculty, he at
length succeeded. The first person invited to the ministerial ofl^ce,
in that parish, was the celebrated John Livingstone, author of " Ee-
markable Observations upon the Lives of the most eminent Ministers
and Professors in the Church of Scotland ;" but Providence over-
ruled the call, and the godly Samuel Eutherford was sent in his
place. IS'or was Kenmure's Christian benevolence confined to his
own parish. He endeavoured to procure for other parishes, also, the
blessings of a gospel ministry ; but the distracted state of the times
rendered all his exertions ineffectual.
Before Eutherford's settlement in Anwoth, Kenmure had been
married to lady Jane Campbell, sister to the celebrated Marquis of
Argyle, who was beheaded in 1661, for his adherence to Presbytery,
and the Solemn League and Covenant ; — " a lady," says a recent
biographer, " of uncommon piety and worth, and a never-failing
friend of all to whom the Saviom- was dear.'' Both of these eminent
332 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Christians vied with Eutherford in promoting, among the people of
the neighbourhood, a spirit of true religion ; but of this happiness they
were soon deprived, — for in less that two years they removed to
Edinburgh, leaving Kutherford to struggle alone, — a circumstance
"which he afterwards designated " as the severest trial he had met
with since he entered upon his ministry." Their absence in the
metropolis, however, was not long; but on their return, they took up
their residence at Kenmure castle, about twenty miles distant from
Anwoth. As soon as Rutherford heard of their arrival, he addressed
lady Kenmure in the following strain of heavenly salutation — " I
bless our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath brought you home again to
your country, from that place where ye have seen with your eyes,
that which our Lord's truth taught you before ; to wit, that worldly
glory is nothing but a vapour, a shadow, the foam of the water, or
something less and lighter, even nothing; and that our Lord had not
without cause sai.d in his word, ' The countenance or fashion of this
world passeth away.' "
It is probable that Rutherford's reason for thus expressing himself
was in consequence of an overweening ambition and worldly-mind-
edness which had, for some time previous, been unhappily con-
spicuous in Kenmure's pursuits ; for, in 1633, he had been elevated
to the peerage, under the title of viscount Kenmure, and was indulg-
ing the hope that the attainted honours of the house of Gowrie
might perhaps be revived in his person, in right of his mother — for
he had sold part of his patrimony, that he might have it in his power
to bribe the duke of Buckingham, in order to promote his views to
the earldom ; and he was said to have actually presented that noble-
man with a purse of gold, the very night before his assassination.
The state of affairs at that time were far from being favourable for
maintaining, unsullied, a constant feeling of " pure and undefiled
religion," and, although Kenmure did not altogether throw off the
restraint of his earlier " theological and ecclesiastical principles ;"
yet, having received such marks of the royal favour and distinction,
he so far relinquished his concern for religion and the church of
Christ, from motives of mere temporary expediency, and worldly
policy, as to lay the foundation of a regret which did not cease to
afflict him to the day of his death. "We do not mean to say that he
took part with the court, in opposing the interests of the church of
Scotland ; but he certainly did not exhibit that zeal for her advance-
ment and prosperity that might have been expected ; for, leaving
others to struggle and fight on in the heat of the day, he, with appa-
rent callousness and unconcern, withdrew from parliament, without
a word of remonstrance, to his seat in the country, — a step, the recol-
lection of which imbittered even his departing moments. " I de-
serted the parliament," said he, " for fear of incurring the displea-
sure of my sovereign, and the loss of further honour, which I cer-
tainly expected !" But, that he had not altogether lost sight of his
spiritual interests, is happily proved by the fact of his making choice
of Mr. George Gillespie, as his domestic chaplain, when he withdrew
from the turmoils of apolitical life, — a man whose high qualifications,
both as a scholar and servant of God, eminently fitted him for bein^
JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE. 333
useful in a family whose hearts were set upon doing good. Kenmure,
however, does not appear to have profited by this good man's pious
example, as he might have done ; for, upon his deathbed, we find
him thus addressing Gillespie — " I would I had paid better heed to
many of your words ; — I might have gotten good by the means God
gave me ; but I made no use of them."
During the following year he continued to reside in the country,
with the exception of a short visit to Edinburgh, probably in
reference to his views of worldly elevation ; but it seemed good in
the mind of God, that he should not rise to higher honours in this
world; for in little more than a year after the sitting of the
parliament to which we have alhided, he was seized with a fever,
when he had not reached the meridian of life. This happened in the
end of August, 1634. Before this time, however, it had pleased God
to give him a saving view of his conduct ; and it stung him to the
heart when he learned the exertions that had been made, and were
still making, to expose the enactments, and counteract the efiects of
an episcopalian government. "God knoweth," said he, "that I
deserted the last parliament with the fearful wrestlings of my
conscience, my light paying me home within, when I seemed to be
glad and joyful before men." Gladly would he now have parted
with all worldly honours, could he have undone or revoked his
former abandonment of duty. ''I have found," said he, "the
weight of God's anger, for not giving testimony for the Lord my
God, when I had opportunity in the last parliament ; for which foul
fault, how fierce have I found the wrath of the Lord ! For all the
earth, should I not do, as I have done. Wo, wo, to honour or
anything else bought with the loss of conscience and God's favour !"
But he was not abandoned to despair. His Kedeemer had thoughts
of peace and mercy towards him ; and, providentially, just when his
disease was beginning to assume an alarming aspect, Kutherford
came to pay a visit to Kenmure castle. Seeing but little prospect
of recovery, the good man was induced to prolong his stay, till the
time of Kenmure's death, which took place about a fortnight after,
on the 12th of September, 1634.
Eutherford's arrival was a great relief to the mind of Kenmure.
His eye glistened with joy when he saw a clergyman whom he had
been instrumental in bringing to that part of the country, whom he
esteemed very highly, and in whose religious conferences and
services he had formerly taken so much delight. But it would be
superfluous to pursue the subject of his death further in this place,
as a minute and interesting detail will be found in his Testimony.
It would be improper, however, to close this narrative, without
making honourable mention of his amiable and truly pious lady, —
and we cannot do so more appropriately, than in Kenmure's own
words. On his death-bed, he " gave her different times, and that
openly, an honourable and ample testimony of holiness and goodness,
and all respectful kindness, — and craved her forgiveness, earnestly,
where he had offended her, and desired her to make the Lord her
comfort." The Lord had taken away from her all her children
except one ; and five years after Kenmure's death, she was deprived
334: SCOTS WORTHIES.
of her only surviving son and child. She was afterwards married to
the Hon. Henry Montgomery, second son to the earl of Eglinton, an
active and faithful friend to the church of Christ. But their union
was of short duration ; for she was soon after again left a widow.
During the whole of her life she was a pattern of holiness, and good
works. She was, in an especial manner, kind to those, who, in those
days, were suffering for conscience' sake, and who had been reduced
to poverty and exile. She was eminently one of those, whose
nobility is not written " in old, rotten, or mouldered parchments, but
is more ancient than the heavens," — consisting in that adoption by
which they are made the children of God, subjects to the King of
kings, and brethren of the eternal Son of God.*
Although the subject of this memoir did not actually suffer
persecution for the cause of Christ and his gospel, yet he had those
inward workings of the Spirit, which very alarmingly reproved him
for a want of zeal in the good work, upon an opportunity when
worldly ambition induced him to be silent ; even when so many of
his own rank stood manfully forward, and declared their willingness
to suffer the loss of all things, that they might do honour to the great
King and Head of the church. That he bitterly lamented this
misgiving, and sincerely repented of it, upon his death-bed, however,
will be made clearly apparent, in the subsequent account of the last
days of his life.
Upon the last day of August 1634, which was the Sabbath of the
Lord, when this nobleman's body was much weakened, he was
visited by a religious and learned pastor,f who then lived in
Galloway, not far distant from the house of Kenmure. He rejoiced
at the coming of this pastor to his house, and observed and spoke of
a directing and all-ruling Providence, who had sent to him such a
man. After supper, Kenmure drew on a conference with the pastor,
saying, " I am heavily weighed and affrighted in soul with two great
burdens: the one is, fear of death — the other, extreme and vehement
bodily pain; but the former is heavier than the latter; for I never
dreamed that death had such an austere, gloomy, terrible, and grim-
like countenance. I dare not die; howbeit I know I must die.
AYhat shall I do? for I dare not venture in grips with death ; because
I find my sins so grevious, and so many, that I fear my accounts are
ragged and out of order, and not so as becometh a dying man.
The pastor answered, " My lord, there is a piece of nature in all
men, (the believer not excepted,) whereby the first look upon death
is terrible and fearful. O ! my lord, believe in him who died for
you. O ! look the second and third time upon death's face ; and if
you be in Christ, you shall see Jesus hath put a white mask upon
death ; and I dare say, if this be the time of your dissolution, I trust
in God you shall both change your mind and words : for if you have
a good second in the combat, (such as is only Jesus Christ,) your
* The dignities and titles of this enninent family were forfeited, in the rebellion of 1715 ;
but were revived, in 1824, in the person of the venerable representative, John, Lord
Viscount Kenmure.
t That the pastor here mentioned, was Samuel Rutherford, is evident for many reasons
which it IS unnecessary to detail in this place.
JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE. 335
Lord will possibly let your conscience wrestle with the fear of death:
Yet he is beholding fair play ; and I hope Christ Jesus will not be a
naked beholder, and say, Deal it betwixt yon, as he doth in the
death of reprobates, but shall lend yon help; for borrowed strength
is all your strength here. But, my lord, I fear more the ground of
your fear of death, which is (as you say), the consciousness of your
sins ; for there can be no plea betwixt you and your Lord, if your
sins be taken away in Christ ; for then death loseth its action of law
against you, you being in Christ ; and therefore make that sure work,
and fear not."
Kenraure answered, " I have been too late in coming to God, and
have deferred the time of making my account so long, that I fear I
have but the foolish virgins' part of it, who came and knocked
at the door of the bridegroom too late, and never got in." The
pastor said, " My lord, I have gathered by experience, and observed
m sundry, and especially in your father, that when they were
plunged over head and ears in the world, and had cast down old
barns, and built up new again, God came in a month's space and
less, and plucked them from their deceiving hopes, before ever they
got half a mouthful ; and this, my lord, looketh like your case ; for
you know how deep yourself hath been in the world, in building,
planting, parking, seeking honours, and now belike your summons
are to a short day." Kenmure answered, " 'Tis true I have been
busy that way ; but my intentions were honest, and only to free
myself of burdens and business."
Not being content with such a naked answer, the pastor drew the
conference about again to his fear of death, and to a reckoning w^ith
the Lord, and said, " My lord, you know that it is one of the
weightiest businesses that ever you put your hand to, to die ;
especially seeing judgment is at death's back. Paults in your life
are mendable by repentance ; but one wrong footstep in death
is conjoined with eternal loss ; for there is neither time nor place to
regret of evil and bad dying. Therefore, I entreat you, my lord, by
the mercies of God, — by your appearance before Christ, your judge,
— and by the salvation of your soul, that you would here look ere you
leap, and venture not into eternity without a certificate under Jesus
Christ's hand."
To this Kenmure replied, " When I begin to look upon my life, I
think all is wrons: in it, and the lateness of my reckoning affrighteth
me : therefore stay with me, and show me the marks of a child of
God ; for you must be my second in this combat, and wait upon me."
His lady answered, " You must have Jesus Christ to be your
second ;" to which he heartily said Amen. Then said he, " But
how shall I know that I am in a state of grace ? for till I be
resolved, my will still overburdens me. You never did see in me
any tokens of true grace; and that is my only fear." The pastor
said, " I was sorry to see you carried away so fearfully with
temptation, and you know, whether by word or writ, I did give you
faithful warning that it would come to this. I wish your soul were
deeply humbled for sin. But to your demand, I thought you ever
had a love for the saints, even the poorest and most silly, who carried
336 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Christ's image, howbeit tliey could never serve nor please you in any
way. By thu we know we are translated from death unto life^
because we love the 'brethren^ With this remark he was, after some
objections, convinced. The pastor then asked him, "My lord, dare
you now quit your part of Christ, and subscribe an absolute resigna-
tion of him? My lord said, " O ! Sir, that is too hard. I hope He
and I have more to do together : I will be advised ere I do that."
Tlien he asked, " What mark is it to have judgment to discern a
minister called and sent of God, and an hireling?" The pastor
allowed it as a good mark also, and cited to him. My sTieep 'know my
voice.
At the second conference, the minister urged the necessity of deep
humiliation, and said, " My lord, you know Christ must have such
souls to work upon, and not the whole." He answered, "God
knoweth but that is needful. O ! if I could get him. But sin
causeth me to be jealous of his love to such a man as I have been."
"Be jealous oi yourself^ my lord," said the pastor, "but not of Jesus
Christ, and know that there is no meeting betwixt Christ and you,
except you he weary and laden ; for the commission from the Father
is only to the hvJcen-hearted, to the captives^ to the prisoners, and to
the mourners in Zion^ Whereupon he said with a deep sigh and
with tears, " God send me that !" and thereafter reckoned out a
number of sins, which, said he, "are as serpents and crocodiles
before my eyes." Thereafter he continued, " but this hath been a
sudden warning that God hath given me. What shall I do. I am
afraid to die ; and I can neither win through death, nor about it."
To this the minister replied, " My lord, death and you are strangers.
You have not made your acquaintance with death. I hope you will
tell another tale ere all the play be ended ; and you shall think death
a sweet messenger, who is coming to fetch you up to your Father'Sj
house." Upon this he said with tears, " God make it so !" an(
desired the pastor to pray.
At the third conference, Kenmure said, " Death bindeth me strait.'
Oh ! how sweet a thing it is to seek God in health, and in time of^
frosperit}^ to make up our accounts ; for now, through bodily pain,
am so distempered that I cannot get my heart framed to think oi
my account, and on the life to come." The pastor remarked, " It is
a part of your battle to fight against sickness and pain, no less thai
against sin and death, seeing sickness is a temptation." My lore
answered, " I have taken the play very long : God hath given me
five and thirty years to repent, and, alas ! I have mispent it, an('
now I see an ugly sight." — ^Then he covered his face with a linei
cloth, and burst into tears, and wept sore. "My lord," said th<
pastor, " they are far behind that may not follow : think not youi
time too late. Christ's door is yet half-open: you have time t(
throng in, and your time is not all spent as yet ; it's far after noonj
and the back of the day is now come, yea, the edge of the evening
but nin fast that ye lie not in the fields, and miss your lodging.'
Upon that, his lordship said, with his eyes lifted up to heaven,
"Lord, how can I run? Draw me, and I shall run^ The pastoi
hearing that, desired him to pray, but he answered nothing;-
JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE. 337
within one hour after, however, in the hearing of his lady and the
minister, he prayed divinely and graciously with tears. The
substance of his prayer was a bemoaning to God of his weak estate,
both inward and outward; for, said he, "Lord, I am oppressed wdth
fain without ; sorrow and fear within. I dare not knock at the door,
lie at it, but scraping as I may, till thou come out and take me in.
I dare not speak. I look up to thee, and wait on for a kiss of Christ's
fair face. Oh ! when wilt thou come ?"
At the fourth conference, he, calling for the pastor, said, " I charge
you go to a secret place to God, and pray for me, and take help of
others with you, and do it not for the fashion. I know prayer will
bring Christ out of heaven." " My lord, what shall we seek from
God for you ? give us a commission from your own mouth." Ken-
mure answered, " I charge you to tell my heloved that I am sick of
loveP Then said the pastor, " Shall we seek life and recovery for
you?" He answered, "Yea, if it be God's good pleasure, for I find
my fear of death now less, and I think God is loosing the roots of this
deep-grown tree of my soul, so strongly fastened to this life." The
pastor said, " My lord, you must swear a covenant to God, that if
he restore you to this life again, you shall renew your obedience to
God, and that Jesus Christ shall be dearer to your soul than your
honours, pleasures, credit, place, baronies, lands, and all that you
have." He said, ere the pastor had ended, " I believe so, and all too
little for him ; and by God's grace, I bind myself under the pain of
everlasting wrath, to abide by that covenant, if the Lord shall restore
me."
After this, his lordship conceiving hope of recovery, became
exceedingly careless, remiss, and dead, and seldom called for the
pastor. For the space of two days he continued so, hoping to
recover ; howbeit, upon no terms would he permit him to go home to
his kirk and flock till the Lord's day was passed. This coldness
gave occasion of heaviness to my lady and the pastor and others, his
friends and lovers, seeing his care for his soul so exceedingly slacked,
and made the pastor go to the physician, and ask his opinion ; who
answered plainly, that there was nothing for him but death, which
would be certain if his flux returned, which, in effect, did return.
This made the pastor go in to him, and say, " My lord, I have a
necessary business to impart to you ;" and he said, '^ Say on."
" You are not aware, my lord, of a deep and dangerous temptation
of the devil, by which your soul is insnared : You have conceived
hopes to return back again to this life; but I tell you, ere it be long,
you shall be presented before the Judge of the quick and dead, to
receive doom and sentence according to your works. I have a war-
rant for me to say this; therefore 1 beseech you, my lord, as you
tender your own soul's salvation, be not deceived. Ere it be long,
time will be no more with you ; eternity is drawing on ; your glass is
shorter than you are aware of; Satan would be glad to steal you out
of this life sleeping." The physician likewise seconded these words,
and faithfully gave him warning of the danger of his disease. After
these words he took the pastor by the hand, and said, " That he ex-
perienced faithful and plain dealing ; this man will not sunder till
22
338 SCOTS WORTHIES,
death sunder us. Now I will set aside all these things ; I know one
thing is needful. It was but the folly of my deceiving heart, to look
back over my shoulder to this life, when I was fairly on, once in my
journey towards heaven ;" and therefore he caused all men go out
of the chamber, save only the pastor, that he might converse with
him concerning the state of his soul." After prayer, the pastor said,
'' My lord, 1 perceive I have been deceived, and your lordship also ;
for your joy, I fear, hath not been well rooted, neither your humilia-
tion so deep as need w^ere ; we must dig deeper to seek a lower foun-
dation ; for, when I think of your coldness in devotion, and your
untimely relenting in the necessary works of making your reckoning
with your Judge, upon vain conceived hope of recovery of health, I
see certainly the work is not sure, — one pin is loose. Your lordship
knows, that this church and country have been grievously offended
at many gross and open sins in you, both against the first and second
table oi* the law." Upon this, the pastor burdened him with sundry
particulars, and told him plainly, and said, " My lord, my mistake
of the case of your soul has been from hence, that you have never
cleared yourself of many predominant and bosom sins, whereof I
both spoke and wrote to you, and may remember how malcontent
you were at a sharp letter of many particulars that I wrote to your
lordship ; and how, at your house at Rusco, you made half a chal-
lenge of it to me ; for I found you always witty to shift and cover
anything whereof you were rebuked. Howbeit, at my first coming
to this country, when you sided too much with a gentleman of your
name, who killed a man vilely, you promised willingly to receive and
take in good part, what I freely told your lordship was amiss."
Whereupon my lord reckoned up a number of fearful sins, and
amongst others, he ingeniously and freely confessed his sin in de-
serting the last parliament, and said, " God knoweth I did it with
the fearful wrestlings of my conscience, my light paying me home
within, when I seemed to be glad and joyful before men ; yet I did
it for fear of incurring the indignation of my prince, and the loss of
further honour, which I certainly expected ; but wo ! wo ! to honour
or anything else, bought with the loss of peace of conscience, and
God's favour."
The pastor being struck with fear and astonishment at the reckon-
ing of those fearful sins which my lord had kept close, — notwith-
standing such fair appearance of a sound grace in his soul, as he had
conceived — stood up, and read to him the first eight verses of the
6th chapter of the Hebrews, and discoursed to him of the far on-
going of reprobates in the way of heaven, and of their taste of the
good word of God, and of the virtues of the life to come, and yet
are true reprobates ; and cited also Rev. xxi, — " But the fearful, and
the unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, shall have their
part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone; which is the
second death ;" — and told him what everlasting burning was ; and
with that, the pastor turned his back and said, " Now, my lord, I
have not one word of mercy from the Lord to say to you ; God hath
sealed up my lips, that I dare speak nothing to you but one thing,
the wrath and ire of God Almighty." My lord hearing this with tears,
JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE. 339
cried out so that they heard him in the withdrawing room, and in all
the houses about ; then he said, " God, armed in wrath, is coming
against me to beat out my brains. I would die ; I w^ould not die ;
I dare not live ; O ! what a burden the hand of an angry God ! O !
what shall I do ! Is there no hope of mercy ?" Then in a fearful
agony he lay a long time weeping ; so that those who attended ran
in and said the pastor had no skill ; he would kill him ; and others
said, I pray you beware, you will not fail to thrust him into despair.
The pastor, not content with those words, bore with them, however,
but went to a quiet place, and sought from God his salvation, and
words from God to speak to his lordship. Some said that the pastor
was a miserable comforter. After this, another minister came to
visit him, to whom Kenmure said, " He hath slain me ;" and before
the pastor could answer anything for himself, said further, " Not he,
but the Spirit of God in him." " ^"0 !" said the pastor, " E'ot I, but
the law hath slain you. And, my lord, I say yet again, the God of
heaven hath a terrible process against your father's house, and a
deep and bloody controversy with the stones and furniture of the
house of Kenmure ; and, my lord, your name is in the process ; see
how you can free yourself God is not mocked." The other minis-
ter read to him the history of Manasses, his most wicked life, and
how the Lord was entreated of him, and gave him mercy ; but the
former pastor went still upon wrath, and asked him, saying, " My
lord, you are extremely pained, I know, both in body and mind ;
what think you of the lake of fire and brimstone, of everlasting
burnings, and of utter darkness with the devil and his angels ?" To
which he replied, " Wo is me ; what can I think of it ! I think if I
should sufier my thoughts to dwell upon it any space, it were
enough to cause me to go out of my wits ; but I pray you what shall
my soul do?" The pastor answered,"! am where I was: God
knoweth I dissemble not ; I have not one word of mercy to say to
you; only I know Christ hath not given out the doom against you ;
the sentence is yet suspended ; therefore, mourn and sorrow for the
ofiending, of your God." " What, my lord," added the pastor, " if
Christ had given out a sentence of condemnation, and come to your
bedside, and told you of it, would you not still love him, and trust in
him, and hang upon him ?" Kenmure said, " God knoweth, I durst
not challenge him ; yea, howbeit he should not love me, yet I w^ll still
love him ; yea, though the Lord should slay me, yet will I trust in
him : I will lie down at God's feet ; let him trample upon me ; I will
die, if I die at Christ's feet." Finding my lord claiming kindred to
Christ, and hearing him cry often, " Oh ! Son of God, w^here art
thou ? When wilt thou come to me ? Oh, for a love look !" the
pastor said, " Is it possible, my lord, that you can love and long for
Christ, and he not love and long for you ? Or can love and kind-
ness stand only on your side ? Is your poor, weak, unworthy love
greater than infinite love, seeing he hath said, ' Can a woman forget
her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of
her womb ? yea, she may forget, yet will I not forget thee.' ' Be-
hold I have graven thee on the palms of my hands.' And there-
fore your loving and longing for Christ is a fire of God's kindling.
SiO SCOTS WORTHIES.
My lord, persuade yourself you are graven on the palms of God's
hands."
Upon this, his lordship, with a hearty smile, looked about to a
gentleman, a good Christian, whom he had commanded to attend his
body till his dying hour, and said, " I am written upon the palms of
Christ's hands ; he will not forget me. Is this not brave talking ?"
The pastor finding him weaker, said, "My lord, the marriage feast is
drawing near; make ready the marriage robes; set aside all care
of your estate and the world ; and give yourself to meditation,
prayer, and spiritual conference." He was observed, after that, to
be always in that exercise ; and when none was near him, he was
overheard praying ; and many times, when we thought he was sound
sleeping, he was at prayer. After a sleep he called for the pastor,
and said, " I have been troubled in my sleep with this, that being at
l)eace with God, I am not also at peace with men ; and, therefore,
send for such a kinsman (with whom I am reconciled), as also for a
minister that had before offended me, that I may shake hands with
them ;" which was done quickly. When the preacher came, he said,
" I have ground of offence against you, as a natural man, and now I
do to you what all men breathing could not have moved me to do ;
but now because the Holy Spirit commands me, I must obey, and
therefore I freely forgive you, as I would wish you to forgive me.
You are in an eminent place ; walk before God, and be faithful in
your calling, and take heed to your steps ; walk in the right road ;
hold your eye right ; for all the world, decline not from holiness, and
take example by me." He wished the pastor to sleep in a bed made
upon the ground beside him, within the chamber, and urged him
against his will to lie down and sleep, and said, " You and I have a
far journey to go ; make you for it." Some four nights before his
death, he would drink a cup of wine to the pastor, who answered,
I receive it, my lord, in hope you shall drink of the pure river of the
water of life, proceeding from the throne of God, and of the Lamb ;"
and when the cup was in his hand, with a smiling countenance he
said, " I think I have good cause to drink with a good will to you."
After some heaviness, the pastor said, " My lord, I come with
news to you." He inquired, " What are they ?" The pastor replied,
" Be not afraid of death and judgment, because the process that
your judge had against you is cancelled and rent in pieces, and Jesus
Christ hath trampled it under his feet : your dittay is burnt." My
lord said, very pithily, with a smile, " O ! that is a lucky tale : I will
then believe and rejoice ; for sure I am that Jesus Christ and I once
met, and will he not come again ?" The pastor said, " My lord, you
have gotten the first fruits of the Spirit — the earnest ; and Christ
will not lose his earnest : therefore the bargain betwixt Christ and
you holdeth." He then asked him, " What is Christ like, that I
may know him ?" " He is like love and altogether lovely," said the
pastor ; " love cannot but be known wheresoever it is. My lord, if
you had the man Christ in your arms now, would you not thrust him
tQ your heart, howbeit your heart and side be pained with a stitch ?"'
He answered, " God knoweth, I would forget my pain, and thrust
him into my heart ; yea, if I had my heart in the palm of my hand,
JQHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE. 341
I would give it to him, and think it too unworthy a gift for him."
He complained of Jesus Christ going and coming. " I find," said
he, " my soul drowneth with heaviness : when the Lord cometh, he
stayeth not long." The pastor said, " "Wooers dwell not together ;
but married folks take up house together and sunder not. Jesus
Christ is now wooing, and therefore he feedeth his own with hunger,
which is as growing meat, as the sense of his presence."
After a sound sleep, in the dawning, the pastor said, "My lord,
w^here lay Christ all night ? Did not your well-beloved lie as a bmi-
dle of myrrh betwixt your breasts ?" He answered, " ]^ay, not
betwixt my breasts, but betwixt my breasts locked in my heart. He
asked, " When will my heart be loosed, and my tongue untied, that
I may express the sweetness of the love of God to my soul ?" and
before the pastor answered anything, he answered himself, " even
when the wind bloweth." Being asked " what was his judgment
concerning the ceremonies now entered in the kirk of God?" "I
think and am persuaded in my conscience," said he, " they are supersti-
tious, idolatrous, and antichristian, and come from hell, and I repute
it a mercy, that my eyes shall not see the desolation that shall come
upon this poor church. It's plain popery that is coming among you \
God help me ! God forgive the nobility ! for they are either key-cold,
or ready to welcome popery ; whereas they should resist ; and wo
be to a dead time-serving, and profane ministry ; they are but a com-
pany of dumb dogs !" He called his lady, and a gentleman who
was a friend to her, and who had come a good way to meet him with
the pastor, causing the chamber door to be shut upon all others, and
from his bed directed his speech to the gentleman, saying, " I ever
found you kind and honest to me all the time of my life ; therefore,
I must now give you a charge, which you shall deliver to all the
noblemen you know, and with whom you are acquainted. Tell them
all how heavy I have found the weight of the Lord's hand upon me,
for not giving testimony to the Lord my God, when 1 had occasion
once in my life at the last parliament. For this foul fault, how fierce
have I felt the wrath of the Lord my God ! My soul hath raged
and roared. I have been grieved to the heart. Tell them that they
will be as I am now. Encourage others that stand for the Lord.
Tell them that failed, that, as even they would wish to have mercy
when they are as I am now, that they should repent and crave
mercy from God. "Would to God I had such an occasion again, to
testify my love to the Lord ? For all the earth, should I not do as I
have done."
Upon Friday morning, the 12th of September, the day of his de-
parture from this life, he said to the pastor, " This night must I sup
with Jesus Christ in paradise." After prayer he said, " I conceive
good hopes that God looketh on me, when he gives his servants such
liberty to pray for me. Is it possible that Jesus Christ can lose his
hold of me? Neither can my soul get itself plucked from Jesus
Christ." He earnestly desired a sense of God's presence ; and the
pastor said, " What, my lord, if that be suspended till you come to
your home, and be before the throne, clothed in white, and get your
harp in your hand, to sing salvation to the Lamb, and to hirii that
34:2 SCOTS WORTHIES.
sittetli on the throne ; for that is heaven ; and who dare promise it
to you on earth? Tliere is a piece of nature in desiring a sense of
God's love ; it being an ajjple tliat the Lord's children delight to
play wijh. But, my lord, if you would have it only as a pledge of
your salvation, we shall seek it from the Lord for you, and you may
lawfully pray for it." Earnest prayers were made for him, and he
testified that he was filled with a sense of the Lord's love. Being
asked what he thought of the world, he answered, " It is more hitter
than gall or wormwood." Bein^ demanded if now he feared death,
he answered, "I have tasted death now. It is not a whit hitter :
welcome the messenger of Jesus Christ !" He never left off* mourn-
ing for his sins, especially his deserting the parliament. To which
the pastor said, " There is a process between the Lord and your
father's house, but your name is taken out of it. How dear, dear,
was heaven bought for you by your Saviour Jesus Christ ?" — " I
know there is wrath against my father's house, but I shall get my
soul for a prey ;" which words he had frequently in his mouth.
Ofttimes also he said, " Is not this a sweet word that God
saith, 'As I live, I delight not in the death of a sinner?' I
will not let go the hold that I have got of Christ : ' Though
he should slay me, yet will 1 trust in him,' and lie at his feet
and die there, and lie at his door, like a beggar, waiting on him,
and if I may not knock, I may scrape." He had another expression
very often, — " Oh, son of God ! one love-blink, one smile !" After
he had been in a deep meditation on his change of life, he put this
question, " What will Jesus Christ be like when he cometli ?" It
was answered, " All lovely." On this day he said to the doctor, " I
thought to have been dissolved ere now." The pastor answered,
"My lord, weary not of the Lord's yoke : Jesus Christ is posting
fast to be at you ; he is within a few miles." He answered mildly,
" This is my infirmity. I will wait on ; he. is worthy the on-waiting.
Though he be long in coming, yet I dare say he is coming, leaping
over the mountains, and skipping over the hills. If he were once
come, we shall not sunder." The pastor said, " Some have gotten
their fill of Christ in this life ; though he is often under a mask to
his own. Even his best saints. Job, David, Jeremiah, &c., were
under desertions." His lordship answered, " What are those exam-
ples to me ! I am not in holiness near to job, David, or Jeremiah."
The minister replied, " It is true, my lord, you cannot take so wide
steps as they did, but you are in the same way with them. A young
child followeth his father at the back ; and though he cannot take
such wide steps as he, yet this hindereth him nut to be in the same
way with him. My lord, your hunger overcometh your faith, — only
believe his word. You are longing for Christ, — only believe he is
faithful, and will come quickly." To this Kenmure said, " I think
it time ; Lord Jesus, come !" Then said the pastor, " My lord, our
nature is in trouble to be wholly upon our own deliverance ; whereas
God seeketh first to be glorified in our faith, and patience, and hope ;
and then it is time enough that we be delivered." He answered,
"There is good reason that my Lord be first served. Lord, give me
to wait on ; only. Lord, burn me not to dross." Another said, " Cast
ROBERT CUNNINGHAM. 343
back your eyes, my lord, on what you have received, and be thank-
ful." At the hearing whereof, he presently brake forth in praising
of God ; and finding himself weak, and his speech failing, more than
an hour before his death, he desired the pastor to pray, — which he
did. After prayer, the minister cried in his ear, " My lord, can you
now sunder with Christ ?" He said nothing , nor was it expected
he would speak any more. Yet a little after, the minister asked,
" Have ye any sense of the Lord's love ?" He answered, " I have
sense." The pastor said, "Do you not enjoy?" He answered, " I
do enjoy." Thereafter said the pastor, " Will ye not sunder with
Christ ?" He replied, " By no means." This was the last word, not
being able to speak any more. The pastor then asked if he should
pray. Kenmure turned his eye towards him. In the time of that
last prayer, he w^as observed smiling joyfully, looking up with glori-
ous looks, as was observed by the beholders, and with a certain splen-
dour his visage was beautified, as comely as ever he was in his life.
He expired with loud and strong fetches and sobs, being strong of
heart and body, of the age of five and thirty years. The expiring
of his breath, the ceasing of the motion of his pulse (which the phy-
sician was still holding), ceased all precisely with the Amen of his
prayer, and so he died sweetly and holily, and his end was peace.
He departed about the setting of the sun, September the 12th.
1634.
" Blessed are they who die in the Lord."
ROBERT CUNNINGHAM.
Of the birth-place and early life of this godly man, nothing seems
to be known. The first notice we have concerning him is, that after
having qualified himself for the ministry, he was appointed chap-
lain to a regiment commanded b}^ the duke of Buccleugh, at that
time in Holland. He was afterwards settled minister at'Holyrood,
in Ireland, sometime before Mr. Blair's appointment to Bangor, with
whom he established an acquaintance which proved a source of
great comfort and usefulness to both.
He applied himself so closely to the work of the ministry, and
took so much delight in preaching, that when in the pulpit, he
seemed like a fish in the water, or a bird in the air. There he con-
sidered that a Christian minister might enjoy much fellowship with
344 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Christ, and at the same time do him the most acceptable of all ser-
vices ; always bearing in mind what the Saviour said to Peter, —
" Feed my lambs — feed my sheep !"
He continued to exercise his ministry at HoljTOod, as a faithful
pastor among the flock over whom he had been appointed over-
seer, until several of his brethren were deposed and ejected by the
bishops ; at which time the bishop of Down threatened Mr. felair
with a prosecution against himself, Cunningham, and several others.
To this Blair replied, " Ye may do with me and some others as
ye please ; but if ever ye meddle with Mr. Cunningham, your cup
will be full." And indeed he was longer spared than any of the rest,
which was a great blessing to their flocks ; for, after they were
ejected, he preached every week in one or other of their kirks. But
the severe exercise to which he thus subjected himself, both at home
and abroad, gradually undermined his constitution, which at no
former period had been remarkable for vigour.
"When Blair and Livingstone were summoned to appear before the
bishop to hear their deposition, they went, the night previous,
to take leave of Cunningham ; and, having done so, they were not a
little surprised next day, when he came up to them as they were
going to the church of Parphillips. After mutual salutations, and
having asked what was the cause of this unexpected appearance,
Cunningham replied — " I have been troubled all night with that
passage — At 7ny first answer no man stood with me ; therefore I am
come to stand by you." However, being very ofiensive to the pre-
latical clergy in that part of the country, it was not to be expected
that he should be permitted to exercise his ministry long ; and there-
fore he was ejected from his charge, in August, 1636, along with
others of his faithful brethren. The episcopalian party being power-
fully predominant, and not knowing what cruelty might yet be in re-
serve for him, he entertained, for a short time, the idea of emigrating
to Kew England ; but Providence, in his wisdom, overruled the
intention. Being obliged to leave Ireland, in company with a num-
ber of his suffering brethren, he landed at Irvine, in Scotland, where,
having caught fever, he soon bade adieu to all his earthly sufferings,
on the 27th March, 1637.
He was a man much under deep exercise of mind ; and, although
in his public ministrations he complained sometimes of the want of
divine illumination and assistance ; yet it w^as remarked, that even
at these times his sermons were found most edifying and refreshing ;
being carried through with a full gale, and using more piercing ex-
pressions than many others. The day before his death, the members
of the presbytery of Irvine paid him a visit, whom he exhorted to
be faithful to Christ and his cause, and to oppose the Service-book
then pressed upon the church. " The bishop," said he, " hath taken
my ministry from me, and I may say my life also' — for my ministry
is dearer to me than my life." During his illness, besides many
other gracious expressions, he said ; — " I see Christ standing over
Death's head, saying, ' Deal warily with my servant ; loose thou this
pin, then that pin ; for his tabernacle must be set up again !'" A
little before his departure, as his wife was sitting by his bedside, with
JAMES MITCHELL. 345
his hand in hers, he recommended in prayer to God, the whole
church of Ireland, the parish of Holyrood, his persecuted brethren,
and his children ; adding, at the same time, these words — " Lord, I
recommend this gentlewoman to thee, who is no more my wife ;" —
and, with that he softly disengaged his hand from hers, and gently
put it a little distance from him. At this she and several of those
who were present burst into tears ; but he endeavoured to comfort
them with many heavenly expressions, and with the Lord's servant
of old, " having served his own generation, by the will of God he
fell asleep," and was gathered unto his fathers.
JAMES MITCHELL,
This exemplary youth was the son of James Mitchell of Dykes,
factor to the earl of Eglinton ; a man of singular piety and godli-
ness. The subject of this narrative was born about the year 1621 ;
and, after receiving a liberal education, was sent to the university of
St. Andrew's when very young ; where his progress in literature was
so rapid and sure, that by the time he had reached his eighteenth
year, he had attained to the- distinguished honour of Master of Arts.
Soon after this he returned to his father's house, where he remained
for nearly two years and a half, pursuing his studies with unwearied
diligence, and the Lord blessing his exertions with remarkable suc-
cess. In these he was greatly assisted by the kindness of Mr. Robert
Baillie, minister of Kilwinning, who lent him books, aided him by
his counsel, and gave directions for the order of his studies.
About this time he was selected by lady Houston, to superintend
the education of her eldest son at college ; and in this employment
he continued other two years and a half, during which time the Lord
blessed his own studies exceedingly. Besides the marks of attention
shown by Baillie, he was also particularly noticed by Mr. Dickson,
then a professor in the university of Glasgow, and enabled to pass
his trials for the ministry, with much satisfaction. Having obtained
license to preach the gospel, he made his first public appearances in
the parish of Kilwinning and Stevenston, where he made such an
eminent display, as to call forth the gratitude of all who heard him,
that the Lord had been pleased to call into his service, a man who
gave such powerful indications of future usefulness.
In the end of Autumn, 1643, he returned to Glasgow with his
34:6 SCOTS WORTHIES.
pupil, and applied himself with untiring diligence, both to his own
mental improvement, and that of the young man who had been
placed under his charge. There he preached repeatedly, pleasing,
both by his manner and doctrine, all who loved Christ and his cause
and gospel. In confirmation of this, three of the excellent ministers
of that period, Baillie, Dickson, and Ramsay, told his father that he
had much reason to bless God for the eminent talents conferred upon
his son, and for the gifts and graces so conspicuously bestowed upon
him, — adding what was of far higher importance, that the Lord had
in reality made a saving change upon his heart, and was dealing
very graciously with his soul.
Mitchell had given himself much to prayer, and the study of the
Scriptures, and reading therein was now become his delight ; but the
Lord having other thoughts concerning him, in a short time all these
high expectations of him in the ministry were frustrated. By his
extreme abstinence, indefatigable application to study without
necessary bodily exercise, drinking too copiously of water, with
other inattentions to bodily health, he contracted a disease, which
soon after terminated his days. His body began to decay, for want
of appetite, and his constitution very soon gave way. Dickson was
extremely grieved at his condition, and took him to his own house
for fifteen days, in the hope that his health might improve ; but as
there was no change for the better, he went to Houston, and remained
as long there. The attentions of lady Houston and her daughter
were very great ; not only for the care he had bestowed upon his
young scholar, but also for the rare gifts and graces which God had.^
conferred upon him. Baillie was in London at the time. At length
his father having sent for him, he returned home. After the first
day of his journey, he remained all night with Ralston ; and the
laird of Ducathall being there, he accompanied Mitchell the rest of
the way ; because in consequence of his extreme weakness, it was
frequently necessary for him to alight and rest, not being able to
ride more than two miles at a time.
After he arrived at his father's house, he rose and dressed himself
every day for fifteen days ; but, after that, till the day of his death,
which was ten weeks after, he was confined constantly to bed.
During all that time, however, he experienced large measures of
mercy and grace, both in body and soul. His body, from complete
exhaustion, was reduced to that of a skeleton ; but his countenance
continued pleasant, comely, and well-coloured to the last. During
the last five or six weeks of his life, he was attended by three or four
persons, and sometimes more, at a time ; but they never had reason
to weary. On the contrary they were refreshed daily by the many
wise, sweet, and gracious discourses that proceeded out of his mouth.
His last words were these : — " Lord, open the gates that I may enter
in !" — and, shortly after, his father asking what he was doing, — he
lifted up his hands, and caused all his fingers to twirl. With this,
in the presence of many honest neighbours, he yielded up his spirit,
and went to his rest, a little after sunrise, on the 11th of June, 1613,
being then only twenty-three years of age.
Thus, in the bloom of youth, did this amiable person end his
JAMES MITCHELL. 347
arthly warfare, and enter into liis heavenly inheritance, — a young
man, but a rijpe Christian; aitd, it was remarked, that three special
gifts had been vouchsafed to him by his Divine Master; viz., a
notable invention, a great memory, and a ready expression. Among
other fruits of his meditation and industry, he drew up a model of
preaching, which he entitled — " The Method of Preaching." Be-
sides this, he left many other manuscripts ; none of which, however,
were ever published.
During his illness, Mitchell was possessed of all patience and
submission, and never was heard to murmur in the least ; but often
thought his Master's time well worth waiting on. He was fre-
quently much refreshed by seeing and hearing good and gracious
neighbours, who came to visit him ; so that he had little reason Avith
Heman, to complain, " Lover and friend hast thou put far from me,
and mine acquaintance into darkness."
Among other gracious sayings, he declaimed much against im-
prudent speaking, wishing it might be amended, especially in
students and young ministers : as being but the froth and vanity of a
foolish mind. He lamented the pride of many such in usurping a
priority of place, which became them not, and exclaimed frequently
against himself for his own practice ; yet said he was in the strength
of God brought to mortify the same. He frequently exhorted his
parents to carry themselves to one another as the word of God
required, and above all things to fear God, and delight in his word.
He often said, that he dearly loved the Book of God, and sought
them to be earnest in prayer, showing that it was an unknown thing,
and a thing of another world, and that the influence of prayer
behoved to come out of heaven ; and that the spirit of supplication
must be wrestled for, else all prayer would be but lifeless and natural.
He mentioned, that being once with lady Houston, and some country
gentlemen at Baglas, the spirit of prayer and supplication was poured
upon him, in such a powerful and lively manner, two several days
before dinner, that all present were much affected, and shed tears in
abundance ; and that yet at night he found himself so emptied and
dead, that, he durst not venture to pray any at all these two nights,
but went to bed, and was much vexed and cast down, none knowing
the reason. By this he was from that time convinced, that the
dispensation and influence of spiritual and lively prayer came only
from heaven, and from no natural abilities that were in man.
On one occasion, the laird of Cunningham coming to visit him, as
he did frequently, he enumerated all the remarkable passages of
God's goodness and providence towards him, especially since he
began to grow weaker ; in showing infinite mercy to his soul, tender
compassion towards his body, patience and submission to his will
without grudging, calmness of spirit without passion, solid and
constant peace within and without ! " This," said he, " is far beyond
the Lord's manner of dealing with many of his dear saints ; and now,
Sir, think ye not that I stand greatly indebted to the goodness and
kindness of God, who deals thus graciously and warmly with me
every way ?" After this he burst out in praise to God in a sweet and
lively manner.
348 SCOTS WORTHIES.
At another time, the laird being present, Mitcliell looking out of
liis bed to the snn shining brightly on the opposite side of the house,
said, " 0 what a splendour and glory will all the elect and redeemed
saints have one day ! and O 1 how much more will the glory of the
Creator be, who shall communicate that glory to all his own ; but the
shallow thoughts of men are not able to conceive the excellency
thereof."
Again, Mr. Macqueen being present, his father inquired at him
wherein our communion with God stood? He said, " in reconciliation
and peace with him, which is the first efiect of our justification ;"
then, he observed, there is access and love to God, patience and
submission to his will, &c. ; then the Lord manifests himself to us, as
Christ says himself, "Ye shall know that T am in the Father, and
you in me, and I in you." And again, " He that loveth me, shall
be loved of my Father, and I will love him, and manifest myself
unto him."
One morning, to Hugh Macgavin and his father he said, "I am not
afraid of death, for I rest on infinite mercy, procured by the blood
of the Lamb." Then he spake as to himself, " Fear not, little flock,
it is the Father's good pleasure to give you the* kingdom:" and then
said, " What are these who are of this little flock ? Even sinners.
* I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."
Another morning, he said twice, " My soul longeth for the Lord
more than they that watch for the morning." At another time,
perceiving his father weeping, he said, "I cannot blame you to
mourn, for I know you have thought that I might, with God's
blessing, have proved a comfortable child to you; but comfort
yourself in this, that ere it be long, I will be at a blessed rest, and in
a far better state than I can be in this life, free from sin and every
kind of misery ; and within a short time ye will follow after me. In
the mean time encourage yourself in the Lord, and let not your
mourning be like those who have no hope. What reason have I to
bless God, who in mercy is timosly removing me from all trouble,
and will make me as welcome to heaven as if I had preached forty
years ; for he knew it was my intention, by his grace to have
nonoured him in my ministry ; and seeing he has accepted the will
for the deed, what reason have I to complain ? — for now I am willing
and ready to be dissolved, and to be with Christ, which is best of all ;
wherefore, dear father, comfort yourself with this."
Concerning sin in the godly, his father said to him, " I am sure
you are not now troubled with corruption, being so near death." He
answered, " You are altogether deceived ; for as long as my foot
remaineth on this earth, though the earth were translated above the
clouds, iny mind would not be free of sinful notions." Some time
before his death, he fell into fainting fits. About ten or twelve days
before his dissolution, he fell into one, and was speechless for nearly
an hour, so that none present had any hope that he would again
recover ; but in the mean time he was absorbed in divine contempla-
tion. He began to recover at last, and his heart being enlarged, he
opened his mouth with such lively exhortations as aflected all
present ; and, directing his speech to his father, he said, " Be glad,
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 849
Sir, to see your son, yea, I say your second son, made a crowned
king !" To his mother also, he said, " Be of good courage, and
mourn not for me, for ye will find me in the all-sufficiency of God ;"
and then exclaimed, " O death, I give thee a defiance, through Jesus
Christ !" saying to the on-lookers, " Sirs, this will be a blithe and
joyful good night !"
In the mean time Mr. Bell came in, and to him he said, " Sir, you
are welcome as witness to see me fight out my last fight !" After
this he fell quiet, and got some rest. Within two days, Mr. Bell
having come to visit him again, he said, " O Sir, but I was glad the
last night you were here, when I thought to be dissolved, that I
might have met with my Master, and have enjoyed his presence for
ever ; but I was much grieved, when I perceived a little reviving, and
that I was likely to live longer !" And to Mr. Gabriel Cunningham,
he said, " O ! how sweet a thing it were for a man to sleep to death
in the arms of Christ." He had many other lively and comfortable
speeches, which were not remembered ; not a day passing during the
time of his sickness, but the attendants were refreshed by him.
The night before his departure, he was sensible of great pain.
Upon this he said, "I see it is true, we must enter into heaven
through trouble, but the Lord will help us through it." Then he
said, " I have great pain, but mixed with great mercy, and strong
confidence." He called to mind the saying of John Knox on his
deathbed, " I do not esteem that pain, which will be to me an end
of all trouble, and the beginning of eternal felicity !" His last
words were these : " Lord, open the gates that I may enter in !"
ALEXANDER HENDERSON.
It is to be regretted that no authentic account can be obtained of
Henderson's parentage, birth and education. Tradition informs us,
that he was but of humble birth, having been the son of a feuar,
and born in a house, now demolished, between the villages of Lithrie
and Brunton. The parish of Creich, in Fife, too, claims the honour
of his birth ; but the minister of that place, after much inquiry, and
patient investigation into everything connected with Henderson's
history, has not been able to come to such a conclusion, and the bap-
tismal records of that parish do not extend further back than 1688,
or 1668. "Wodrow, in his memorial to Dr. Fraser, says — " He was
bom anno , of parents of good esteem, and descended from the
family of Fordel, in Fife, an old family, and of good repute." The
350 SCOTS WORTHIES.
accurate and indefatigable biographer, Chambers, also, in writing
upon this subject, says — " For my own part, I have not the least
doubt but that Alexander Ilendei'son was of the Fordel family."
The Hendersons themselves, farther, claim kindred to the Covenanter,
and have always been proud to name him as a cadet of their ftimily.
The accredited account, therefore is, that this was his origin, and we
learn from his monumental inscription, that he was born in the year
1583.
That his parents had been in easy circumstances appears from the
liberal education he received in his youth ; and, it is farther obvious,
that he was destined for one of the learned professions. Having
made choice of the ministr}^, he was sent to the university of St.
Andrew's, where he was matriculated in the college of St. Salvator,
on the 19th of December, 1599. In 1603, he took the degree of
Master of Arts ; and in 1610, we find him a Professor, and also
Questor of the Society of Arts.
At this period, his feelings were strongly in favour of episcopacy,
and upon his admission to holy orders, he was presented by the arch-
bishop to the parish of Leuchars,* in the presbytery of St. Andrew's ;
but his sentiments on religion being well-known, everything was done
to obstruct his settlement. Accordingly, on the day appointed for
his ordination, the parishioners met in a body to oppose his induc-
tion ; and so violent was their determination, that although no actual
attack was made upon the clergymen present, the church doors had
been previously made fast inside, so that entrance could not be
effected by that way. Henderson and his friends, however, were
resolute ; and having got in by a window, the solemnities of the day
were gone through without further annoyance. But he was looked
upon as an intruder — a hireling, and not the shepherd of the sheep,
and his ministrations were consequently not attended by the great
body of the people. This state of things, however, was not of long
continuance ; for in about two or three years after, a change began
to take place in his mind. A desire to guide his people into the way
of truth had begun to be more and more apparent ; and before he
was aware of it, he had fallen into the ranks of those who had been
most opposed to him.
While Henderson's mind was in this unsettled state, a very
remarkable incident occurred ; which, though in itself apparently
unimportant, evidently appears to have been heaven-directed.
Having heard of a communion in the neighbourhood, at which
the famous Mr. Bruce, minister of Kinnaird, was to be an assistant,
he went thither secretly ; and not wishing to attract observation,
placed himself in a dark corner of the church, where he might not
be readily seen or known. Bruce, having come into the pulpit,
paused for a little, as was his usual manner, a circumstance which
excited Henderson's surprise ; but it astonished him much more
when he heard him read as his text, these very striking words, " He
that entereth not in by the door, but climbeth up some other way, the
• In the Biographia Scoticana., it is said that Henderson was admitted to the parish of
Leuchars, about the year 1620 ; but Dr. M'Crie mentions that he must have entered to that
charge, during the year 1615, or perhaps, somewhat sooner.
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 351
same is a thief and a robber ;" which words, bj the blessing of
God, and the effectual working of the Holy Spirit, took such hold on
him at that very instant, and left such an impression on his heart
afterwards, that they proved the very first means of his conversion
to Christ. Ever after he retained a great affection for Bruce, and
used to make mention of him w^ith marks of the highest respect.
Henderson now began to look upon the conduct of the prevailing
party in the church with a different eye from what he had done
formerly, when guided by a worldly spirit, and by views of ambition.
He, however, judged it proper to give the existing controversy a
deliberate investigation ; the result of which was, that he found
episcopacy to be unauthoiized by the word of God, and inconsistent
with the reformed constitution of the Church of Scotland. He did
not long want an opportunity of publicly declaring his change of
mind, and of appearing on the side of that cause which he had
hitherto discountenanced. From the time that the prelatic govern-
ment had first been obtruded upon the church, a plan had been laid
to assimilate her worship also to the English model. After various
preparatory steps, an Assembly was suddenly called at Perth, in the
year 1618 ; in which, by the most undue influence, a number of
superstitious innovations were authorized."^ Among those ministers
who had the courage to oppose these, and who argued against them
with great force of truth, but without success, we find the name of
Alexander Henderson of LeucTiars.
In the month of August, 1619, he, with other two ministers, were
called before the court of high commission at St. Andrew's, charged
with composing and publishing a book proving the nullity of the
Perth Assembly, and with raising a contribution to defray the
expense of printing it. They appeared and answered for themselves
with such wisdom, that the bishops could gain no advantage over
them. They were therefore obliged to dismiss them with threat-
enings. From this period till the year 1637, it does not appear that
he suffered much, although he continued to be watched with a
jealous eye, and to be cramped in his exertions for promoting the
cause of truth and holiness. The time which he spent, however, in
this retirement, though obscure on the page of history, was not the
least useful period of his life. Living sequestered in his parish, and
excluded from taking any share in the management of the ecclesi-
astical affairs of the nation, he had leisure to push his inquiries into
the extensive field of theology, and the history of the church, and to
lay up those stores of knowledge which he afterwards had an
opportunity of disseminating. The discharge of his pastoral duties
furnished him with daily employment, and the success which
attended his visitations yielded him the purest gratifications.
Besides this, he met occasionally with brethren of the same mind, at
fasts and communions, when they, by sermons and conferences,
encouraged one another in adhering to the good old principles of the
Church of Scotland, and joined in fervent supplications to God for
the remedy of those evils under which they groaned. Livingstone
* Five Articles of Perth, already referred to.
352 SCOTS WORTHIES.
mentions Henderson as one of those " godly and able ministers"
with whom he became acquainted in attending these solemn
occasions, between the years 1626 and 1630, " the memory of
whom," says he, " is very precious and refreshing."
At length the time for delivering the Church of Scotland arrived.
In 1636, a book of ecclesiastical canons was sent down from England,
and in the course of the same year, a book of ordination. After
some delay, the Anglo-Popish Liturgy^ or Service-'boolc^ which was
intended to complete the change, made its appearance. Had
Scotland tamely submitted to this yoke, she might afterwards have
sighed and struggled in vain for liberty. But the arbitrary manner
in which these innovations were imposed, not less offensive than the
matter of them, added to the dissatisfaction produced by former
measures of the court and bishops, excited universal disgust, and
aroused a spirit of opposition, which was not allayed, until not only
the obnoxious acts were swept away, but the whole fabric of
episcopacy, which, during so many years they had laboured to rear,
was levelled with the dust. The tumult which was produced by the
first reading of the Liturgy in Edinburgh, on the 23d of July, 1637,^
has been variously related. Although Henderson had no share
either in this, or in any cabal or plot — as his enemies have alleged, —
he, from the first intimation of the projected change, expressed his
disapprobation of them, and did not scruple, after their appearance,
publicly to expose their dangerous tendency. While this endeared
him to some, it irritated the ruling party against him, and was the
occasion of his being singled out among the objects of prosecution,
to deter others from imitating his example. The archbishop of St.
Andrew's charged him and other two ministers, to purchase each two
copies of the Liturgy, for the use of their parishes, within fifteen
days, under pain of rebellion. Hendei'son immediately came to
Edinbm'gh, and on the 23d of August, 1637, presented a petition to
the privy-council for himself and his brethren, stating their objec-
tions, and praying for a suspension of the charge. To this petition,
and others of a similar kind from different quarters of the country,
* As soon as the Dean, Dr. Hanna, began to read the Service-book, a " wonderful sturre"
arose, when a number of the meaner sort of women, who occupied moveable seats at the
lower end of the church, and who usually kept places till the service commenced, for the
higher ranks, raised, with a clapping of hands, cursing, and outcries, such a barbarous
hubbub that no one could hear or be heard. The general cry from the remote corners
was: — "They are going to say mass ! Sorrow, sorrow for this doleful day! They are
bringing in Popery among us !" — As if by simultaneous impulse, the whole congregation
was 60 vehemently perturbed, that the like of the novelty was never heard before, since
the Reformation. When the confusion became such as to prevent detection, even the
gentlemen lent their aid by crying out that " Baal was in the church." For a time the
fury was directed against the dean. Some cried, " He is ane of a witch's breeding, and the
devil's gette. Ill hangit thief ! gif at that time thou wentest to court thou hadst been
Weill hangit, as thou wert ill hangit, thou hadst not been to be a pest to God's kirk this
day !" The dean's courage failed him, and he paused, when the bishop called on him to
proceed with the Collect of the day ; whereupon Janet Geddes, an old woman who kept
an herb stall near the Trone church, cried — " Deil colic the wame o'ye !" — and, suiting the
action to her words, let fly at the head of the dean the stool she had brought with her
to church. Jouking then became the dean's safeguard from this ticket of remembrance,
which passed over his head. On this signal, stools, clasped Bibles, stones, sticks, cudgels,
and whatever were within the people's reach, were hurled against the dean. There-
after, invading him more nearly, they strove to pull him from the pulpit ; others ran
out of the kirk with pitiful lamentations. — " Aitcm^s Life and TimesP
9>
&
m
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 353
the council returned a favourable answer, and transmitted to London
an account of the aversion of the country to conformity.
From this time forward, Henderson took an active share in all the
measures of the petitioners against conformity, and his prudence and
diligence contributed not a little to bring them to a happy issue.
They soon discovered his worth, and improved it by employing him
in their most important transactions. After having been put off for
some time with promises, the meetings of the petitioners were
suddenly prohibited, by a proclamation from his majesty, under pain
of rebellion. Alarmed by this procedure, and convinced that they
could not confide in the court, they saw the necessity of adopting
some other method for strengthening their union ; and that to which
they were directed was, both in a divine and human point of view,
the most proper. They recollected, that formerly in a time of great
danger, the nation had entered into a solemn covenant, by which
they bound themselves to continue in the true Protestant religion,
and to defend and support one another in that cause against their
common enemies. They therefore agreed to renew this covencmt^
and a committee having been appointed to prepare a draught, it was
read to the general body, and unanimously adopted. It was in
substance the same with the National Covenant, which had been
sworn to by all ranks, and ratified by all authorities in the kingdom
during the preceding reign; but it was farther adapted to the
coiTuptions which had been introduced since that period, and to the
circumstances in which the covenanters were placed. On the 1st of
March 1638, it was sworn with ii/plifted Tiands^ and subscribed in the
Qrayfriars Church of Edinburgh'^ by thousands^ consisting of the
nobility^ gentry^ burgesses^ ministers- of the gospel^ and commons^
asse7nbled from all parts of Scotland. " This memorable deed," says
Mr. Laing, " of which it would be improper to forget the authoi'S,
was prepared by Alexander Henderson, the leader of the clergy,
and Archibald Johnson, afterwards of Warriston, an advocate in
whom the suppliants chiefly confided; and revised by Balmerino,
Loudon, and Rothes.
The covenant being thus agreed upon, and sworn to by all ranks
in the land, the Marquis of Hamilton was sent by the king with a
view to suppress it. After several conferences to little purpose, he at
last told the supporters of that measure, that the book of canons and
liturgy should be discharged, on condition they would yield up their
covenant ; which proposal not only displeased the covenanters, but
made them even more vigilant to support and vindicate that solemn
deed. Upon this, Henderson was again set to work, and in a short
time favoured the public with sufiicient grounds and reasons why
they should not recede from any part of it.
Some time after this, the Tablesf (as they were called) of petition-
* After it had gone the round of the whole church, it was taken out to be signed by the
crowd in the churchyard. Here it was spread before them like another roll of the prophets,
upon a flat grave-stone, to be read and subscribed by as many as could get near it. Many,
in addition to their name, wrote, till death ; and some even opened a vein, and subscribed
with their blood. — Jiiton's Life and Times?^
t These Tables were lour in number. Each of the four Tables consisted of four
individuals, making in all a cabinet of sixteen,— viz., four noblemen, four gentlemen, four
23
354: SCOTS WORTHIES.
ers, who were assembled at Edinburgh for carrying on the reformation,
being sorry that the town and shire of Aberdeen (influenced by the
persuasion of their doctore) stood out and opposed that work, sent
some noblemen with Henderson, Dickson, and Cant, to sec if they
could reclaim them. But upon their arrival at Aberdeen, they were
refused admission into any church ; upon which, the three ministers
resolved to preach in the earl of MarischaPs close and hall, as
the weather favoured them. Accordingly they preached by turns ;
Dickson in the morning, to a very numerous multitude ; Cant at
noon ; and Henderson at night, to no less an auditory than in the
morning; all of them using the strongest arguments for subscribing
the covenant ; which had such an effect upon the people, that, after
worship was over, about 500 persons, some of whom were people of
the best quality, subscribed.
And here one thing was very remarkable. "While Henderson
preached, the crowd being very great, there were some who mocked ;
and, among the rest, one John Logic, a student, even threw clods at
the commissioners. It was remarked, however, that within a few
days after, this person killed a young boy ; and though at that time
he escaped justice, yet he was afterwards taken, and executed, in
1644. Such was the fate of him who had been so forward in
disturbing the worship of God, and mocking at the ambassadors of
Jesus Christ.
In the same year, 1638, at the famous General Assembly, which
met at Glasgow, the first which had been convened for a long period,
Henderson, without one dissenting voice, was chosen moderator.
Having by solemn prayer constituted the Assembly, in the name of
the Lord Jesus Christ, he addressed the members in a neat and
appropriate speech ; and indeed throughout the whole of it, fully
justified the good opinion which his brethren entertained of him.
To his majesty's commissioner he behaved with the greatest respect,
and at the same time with an independence and firmness which
became the president of a free Assembly. His behaviour to the
nobility and gentry, who were members, and to his brethren in the
ministry, was equally decorous. His pi-udence and ability were put
to the test on two occasions, — the premature dissolution of the
Assembly by the royal commissioner, and the excommunication of
the bishops. Of his conduct in these, it is proper to give some
account.
Although the king had called the Assembly, it was not his design
to allow them to proceed fairly to the discussion of ecclesiastical
business, and to examine and rectify abuses. The Marquis of
Hamilton, his majesty's commissioner, had instructions not to consent
formally to any part of their procedure, and at a proper time to
oppose the whole. On the other hand, the members considered
themselves as a free Assembly, and were resolved to claim and
exercise that liberty and power which they possessed, agreeably to
the laws of the land, ratifying the presbyterian government, and the
ministers, and four burgesses. A member from each of these again constituted a chief
Table of last resort, making a supreme council of four members only. — " Jitonh Life and
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 355
freedom of its judicatories. The declinature of the bishops having
been read, at the repeated request of the commissioner, the Assembly
were proceeding in course to vote themselves competent judges of the
libels raised against them, when the commissioner interposed, and
declared that if they proceeded to this, he could continue with them
no longer, and delivered his majesty's concessions to be read and
registered. After the clerk had read them, the moderator addressed
his Grace in a grave and well-digested speech. But again on moving
the question before them, the commissioner repeated, that in this
case it behoved him to withdraw. " I wish the contrary from the
bottom of my heart," said Henderson, " and that your Grace would
continue to favour us with your presence, without obstructing the
work and freedom of the Assembly." But after having in vain
insisted on the moderator to conclude with prayer, the commissioner
did, in his majesty's name, dissolve the Assembly, discharging them
under the highest pains from continuing to sit longer.
Upon the commissioner's leaving the house, the moderator de-
livered an animating address to the Assembly, and reminded them
of the divine countenance which had hitherto been shown to them
in the midst of their greatest difficulties. At the opening of the
next sederunt, he again addressed them, putting them in mind of
the propriety of paying particular attention, in the circumstances in
which they were then placed, to gravity, quietness, and order ; an
advice which was punctually complied with, throughout the whole
of that long Assembly.
The Assembly having finished the processes of the bishops, agreed,
at the close of their 19th sederunt, that the sentences passed against
them should be publicly pronounced next day by the moderator,
after a sermon to be preached by him, suitable to the solemn occa-
sion. Accordingly, at the time appointed, he preached before a very
large auditory, from Psal. ex. i. " The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit
thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool."
After narrating the steps which the Assembly had taken, and caus-
ing an abstract of the evidence against the bishops to be read for
the satisfaction of the people, he, " in a very dreadful and grave
manner," said one who was present, " pronounced the sentences of
deposition and excommunication ; the whole Assembly being deeply
afiected, and filled with the mingling emotions of admiration, pity,
and awe."
On the day following, two petitions were given in, for liberty to
transfer Henderson from Leuchars, the one to St. Andrew's, the other
to Edinburgh ; but to neither of these was he willing to agree, hav-
ing already been nearly eighteen years minister of that parish. He
pleaded that he was now to old a plant to take root in another soil ;
yet, after much contest betwixt the two parties for some days, Edin-
burgh carried it by seventy-five votes, very much against his inclina-
tion.— However, he submitted, on condition that, when old age
should overtake him, he should again be removed to a country
charge. At the conclusion of the Assembly, he addressed them in
an able speech of considerable length. After desiring some mem-
bers to supply anything which he had omitted, he concluded witli
356 SCOTS WORTHIES,
prayer, singing the 133d psalm, and pronouncing the apostolical bene-
diction, upon which the Assembly rose in triumph. " We have
now cast down the walls of Jericno," said Henderson when the
members were rising : — " Let him that rebuildeth them beware of
the cui*se of Hiel the Bethelite !"
In 1639, he was one of those commissioned for the church, to treat
upon the articles of pacification with the king and his commis-
sioners, in which difficult afiair he behaved with great prudence and
candour.
When the General Assembly, the same year, sat down at Edin-
burgh, August 12th, having been the former moderator, he preached
to them from Acts v. 33. " When they heard that, they were cut
to the heart, and took counsel to slay them." Towards the close of
his discourse, he addressed John, earl of Traquair, his majesty's com-
missioner, in these words : — " We beseech your grace to see that
Caesar have his own, but let him not have what is due to God, by
whom king's reign. God hath exalted your grace unto many high
places, within these few years, and is still doing so. Be thankful,
and labour to exalt Christ's throne. When the Israelites came out
of Egypt, they gave all the silver and gold they had carried thence,
for the building of the tabernacle ; in like manner your grace must
employ all your parts and endowments for building up the Church
of God in this land." And to the members he said, "Eight honour-
able, worshipful, and reverend, go on in your zeal and constancy ;
true zeal doth not cool, but the longer it bums the more fervent it
will grow. If it shall please God, that by your means the light of
the gospel shall be continued, and that you have the honour of being
instrumental in a blessed reformation, it shall be useful and comfort-
able to yourselves and your posterity. But let your zeal be always
tempered with moderation ; for zeal is a good servant, but a bad
master ; like a ship that hath a full sail, but no rudder. We had
much need of Christian prudence, for we know what advantage
some have attempted to take of us this way. For this reason, let it
be seen to the world, that Presbytery, the government we contend
for in the church, can consist very well with monarchy in the state ;
and thereby we shall gain the favour of our king, and God shall get
the glory." After this discourse, and calling the commissions, Tra-
quair earnestly desired that Henderson might be continued modera-
tor. Whether this was to promote his master's designs, or from a
regard to Henderson's abilities, as the earl professed, is not certain ;
but the Assembly opposed the motion, as favouring too much the
idea of a constant moderatorship^ one of the first steps towards the
introduction of Prelacy ; and no man opposed it more than Hender-
son himself; so, it was overruled.
On the 31st of the same month, Henderson was also called upon
to preach at the opening of the parliament, when he delivered aa
excellent discourse from 1 Tim. ii. 1 — 3,* in which he treated in a
masterly style, of the end, duties, and utility of magistrates.
• '' I exhort, therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving^
of thanks, be made for all men ; for kings, and for all that are in authority ; that we may
lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. For this is good and accepta-
ble in the sight of God our Saviour."
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 357
In 1640, he was placed as Eector at the head of the university of
Edinburgh, by the town-council of that city. They had now resolved
that the office should be annual, with the view of rendering it more
efficient JSTor had they any reason to repent of their choice. They
empowered him to superintend all matters connected with the con-
duct of the principal and professors, the education of youth, the
revenues, &c. ; to admonish offenders, and, in case of obstinacy,
to make a report to the town council. In this office, which he
appears to have enjoyed, by re-election, to his death, he exerted
himself sedulously to promote the interests of that learned semi-
nary.
From the superintendence of this peaceful seat of literature, and
from his pastoral functions, Henderson was again reluctantly called
to take an active part in public affairs. The king, yielding to the
importunate solicitations of the episcopal clergy, having refused,
notwithstanding his promise at the late settlement, to ratify the
conclusions of the Assembly and parliament, suddenly prorogued
the latter, denounced the Scots as rebels, and prepared again to
invade the country. But the success of the Scottish army, which
entered England in August 1640, compelled him a second time to
accede to pacific proposals ; and a treaty to this effect was begun at
Kippon, which in a short time after was transferred to London.
Henderson was appointed one of the commissioners for this treaty,
and on this occasion distinguished himself as the author of a very
able paper, which was ultimately transmitted to the English parlia-
ment, in support of the Scottish commissioners for " unity of
religion, and uniformity of church government, in the two
kingdoms."
Indeed, during the whole time that he was in London, attending
to the treaty, which was protracted through nine months, he was
laboriously employed. Besides taking his turn with his brethren,
who attended as chaplains to the Scottish commissioners, in the
church of St. Antholine's, which was assigned to them as a place of
public worship, he and they were often employed in preaching for
the London ministers, both on sabbath and on other days. He
prepared several tracts for the press, which were published without
his name. The revisal of the most important papers of the Scottish
commissioners was committed to him, before they were given in io
the commissioners and parliament of England, and those which
respected religion were of his own composition.
During his stay in London, he had a private conference with the
king, the special object of which was to procure assistance to the
universities in Scotland, from the rents formerly appropriated to the
bishops. He was graciously received, and had reason to expect that
his request would be complied with.
He returned to Edinburgh about the end of July, 1641. The
General Assembly had met at St. Andrew's some days before ; but
as the parliament, which was sitting in Edinburgh, had sent to
request them to remove to that place, for the convenience of those
who were members of both, and as they wished that Henderson, who
had not then returned from London, should act as moderator of this
358 SCOTS WORTfflES.
meeting, the members agreed that they should meet at Edinburgh
on the 27th of July, and that the former moderator should preside
till that time. Hendei-son had been chosen a member of this
Assembly ; but, as it was uncertain if he could be present, his
constituents had elected Mr. Fairfoul to supply his place in case of
liis absence, and he had taken his seat at St. Andrew's. Upon
Henderson's arrival, Mr. Fairfoul proposed to give place to him.
This was keenly opposed by Calderwood, who insisted that his
commission could not now be received ; in which he was seconded
by Henderson himself. But the Assembly sustained his commission,
and although he declined the office of moderator, this also was, by a
plurality ot votes, laid upon him.
Henderson delivered to the Assembly a letter which he had
brought with him, from a number of ministers in London and its
vicinity, requesting advice from the Assembly respecting the opin-
ions of some of their brethren who inclined to Independency, and
popular government in the church. The Assembly gave him
instructions to answer this letter. He also moved, that the Assembly
should take steps for drawing up a Confession of Faith, Catechism,
and Directory for Worship, in which England might afterwards
agree with them ; a motion which was unanimously approved of,
and the burden of preparing them was laid upon the mover ; liberty
being at the same time given him, to abstain from preaching when
he should find it necessary to attend ^to this interesting business, and
to call in the aid of such of his brethren as he pleased. He declined
the task as too arduous, but it was left upon him ; and there can be
little doubt, that this early appointment contributed to prepare him
for giving assistance in that work, when it was afterwards undertaken
by the Assembly at Westminster.
Previous to the conclusion of this Assembly, he petitioned for
liberty to be removed from Edinburgh, in support of which he
urged that his voice was too weak for any of the churches in town ;
that his health was worse there than in any other place, and that to
keep him there was to kill him ; besides that, in the act for his
translation from Leuchars there was an expressive clause, w^hich
provided that he should have the liberty which he now craved.
The Assembly were much perplexed by this petition. It was at last
granted, however ; but he either did not find it necessary, or was
prevailed upon not to make use of the liberty which he obtained.
King Charles, having come to Scotland to be j^resent at the
parliament held at this time, attended on the forenoon of the sabbath
after his arrival, at the Abbey Church, and heard Henderson preach
from Rom. xi. 36. " For of him, and through him, and to him, are
all things : to whom be glory for ever. Amen." In the afternoon
he absented himself ; but Henderson having conversed with him
respecting this, he afterwards gave constant attendance. Having
been appointed his chaplain, Henderson performed family-worship in
the palace every morning and evening, after the Scottish form. His
majesty attended duly upon this service, and exhibited no symptom
of dissatisfaction or scruple at the want of a liturgy ; a circumstance
which gave the Scots encouragement to expect that he would easily
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 359
give way to the reformation of the English service. On the last day
of the meeting of parliament, which it was the custom to hold with
great solemnity, his m^ajesty being seated on his throne, and the
estates in their places, Henderson began with prayer ; and the
business being finished, he closed the meeting with a sermon. The
revenues of the bishoprics being divided at this parliament, Hender-
son exerted himself on the occasion for the Scottish universities ; and
by his influence, what belonged to the bishopric of Edinburgh and
priory, was, not without difficulty, procured for the university of that
city. As a recompense for his own laborious and expensive services
too, in the cause of the public, the emoluments of the chapel-royal,
amounting to about 4000 merks a-year, were conferred upon
himself.
Some of his friends were displeased with his conduct during this
parliament, particularly in using means to screen from punishment
some persons who had entered into engagements hostile to the late
proceedings of the nation. Besides, reports injurious to his character,
and the purity of his motives, were circulated ; and, as is common
in such cases, met with too easy belief. But one, who diifered from
him in opinion as to the measures in question, bears witness, that
" his great honesty, and unparalleled abilities to serve this church
and kingdom, did ever remain untainted." In the next Assembly,
he made a long and impassioned apology for his conduct. He said,
that certain things for which he had been blamed were done by the
commissioners of the church, not by him ; that what he had
received from the king for his attendance upon a laborious charge
was no pension ; that he had as yet touched none of it ; and that he
was vexed with injurious calumnies. Having unburdened his mind,
and received the sympathy of his brethren, with the assurance of
their unshaken confidence in him, he recovered his cheerfulness.
During the year 1642, Henderson was employed in managing the
correspondence with England respecting ecclesiastical reformation and
union. The parliament of England, having abolished prelacy, requested
that some divines should be sent from Scotland to assist in the Synod
which they had agreed to call. Upon this the commission of the
church met, and being authorized by the former General Assembly,
appointed certain persons as commissioners, to be ready to repair to
England as soon as it should be necessary. Henderson was one of
these. He was averse to the appointment, protesting, that on his
former journey he thought he should have died before he reached
London ; but he at last acquiesced, not without complaining that
some persons were ready to impose heavy burdens upon him, and
afterwards to invent or receive reports injurious to his character.
The dissensions between the king and parliament, which had now
burst out into a civil war, for some time hindered this journey.
Henderson was sincerely disposed to use every proper method for
effecting a reconciliation, and joined with a number of leading men
in an invitation to the queen to come to Scotland, with a view to
promote a mediation, — a proposal which was rejected by the king.
After this, he went in person to his majesty at Oxford, in company
with the commissioners who were sent to offer the mediation of
360 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Scotland. The interview, however, produced no good effect. At
first bis majesty treated him with much attention, and strove to con-
vince him of the justice of his cause ; but as soon as he found that
he did not acquiesce in his representation, his behaviour to him
altered completely. He expressed liigh offence at the interest that
the Scots took in the reformation of England, vindicated his employ-
ing papists in the army, and refused permission to the commissioners
to proceed to London to treat with the parliament. They were forth-
with insulted in the streets by the inhabitants of Oxford, and were
even under apprehensions of their personal safety. "While Hender-
son remained there, some of the academical divines wished to engage
him in controversy, by proposing certain questions to him respecting
church government ; but he declined the dispute, and signified that
his business was with the king. Upon his return to Edinburgh, the
commissioners of the church expressed their entire satisfaction with
his mission ; and their judgment was approved by the next Assem-
bly, who pronounced his conduct to have been " faithful and w4se."
The Scots, being highly dissatisfied with the treatment which their
commissioners had received at Oxford, soon after entered into a very
close alliance with the parliament of England ; in consequence ol
which Henderson was, afterwards, again sent to London.
. In the mean time, however, upon his return he was chosen moder-
ator to the General Assembly of 1643. This Assembly was rendered
remarkable by the presence of the English commissioners, Sir Wil-
liam Armyn, Sir Harry Yane, Messrs. Hatcher and Darley, from
the parliament ; together with two ministers, Stephen Marshall, a
presbyterian, and !rhilip ISTye, an Independent.* These persons
were commissioned to the General Assembly, craving their aid and
counsel upon the emergent circumstances of both kingdoms ; and in
their presence the business of the Assembly was conducted by Hen-
derson in his official capacity, with great dignity and decorum. He
was among the first of those nominated as commissioners, to go up
in return to the parliament and Assembly of England. In a little
after, Henderson and Gillespie, with Messrs. Hatcher and 'Nje, set
out for London, to have the Solemn League ratified there, — it having
been agreed upon, that the union between the two kingdoms should
be cemented by such a deed. They set sail from Leith on the 30th
of August. The rest of the commissioners stayed behind, until it
should be returned. Upon their arrival in London, where the Assem-
bly of Divines were sitting, and to whom they were appointed to re-
present the state of the Church of Scotland, Henderson and his
brethren received a warrant from the parliament to sit in the next
meeting. This warrant was presented by Henderson, upon which
the Assembly sent out three of their number to introduce them. At
their entry. Dr. Twisse, the president, rose and welcomed them in
name of the Assembly, and complimented them for the hazard they
* A few of the nobles, in the name of the estates, were appointed to meet them and
bring them up in a coach ; and Henderson moved that now, when the eyes of strangers
were to be upon them, the members of Assembly should think well of their ways, and, if
possible, appear more grave than ordinary. The business of the House was accordingly
carried on with more solemnity than usual ; and Henderson, as became his person well,
moderated with some little austere severity. — jlUon's " Life and TvneaJ'
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 361
had undergone in the public cause, both by sea and land ; after
which, they were conducted to a place the most convenient in the
house, which they kept ever after.
The Solemn League having been already approved of by the two*
houses of parliament, and this venerable Assembly, the members of
the latter, with those of the House of Commons, convened in St.
Margaret's, Westminster, upon the 25th of September ; and having
first sworn, afterwards subscribed it. Immediately before they pro-
ceeded to this solemn work, Henderson made a long speech, stating
what the Scots had done, and the good they had received by such
covenants ; after which the covenant was read, article by article,
from the pulpit, all persons standing imcovered, with their right
hand lifted up in worship, and the solemnity of an oath. Two hun-
dred and twenty-two members of parliament signed, as did also the
divines of the Assembly and the Scottish commissioners.
During the three following years, he remained in London, and was
unremittingly employed in assisting the Assembly in preparing the
public formularies for the religious union between the three king-
doms, which had been sworn in the Solemn League. Being a stran-
ger, and sustaining, with the rest of the commissioners from Scotland,
a peculiar relation to the Assembly, he spoke but seldom in its
debates. But when it was necessary to vindicate the principles of
the Church of Scotland, and of the other reformed churches, from
slanderous imputations, he did not keep silence. Mr. Kye, having
one day undertaken to demonstrate, that the presbyterian mode of
drawing a whole kingdom under one national Assembly was formid-
able and pernicious to civil states and kingdoms, — Henderson, indig-
nant at such language from one who had solemnly engaged to pre-
serve the government of the Church of Scotland, with honest warmth
repelled the charge. He remonstrated against the inflammatory
tendency of such speeches, and showed that he had calumniated not
only the Church of Scotland, but all reformed churches whatever.
His wisdom was displayed in preserving harmony among the
members of the Assembly, regarding measures which were requisite
for the prosecution of the cause, which they had all solemnly sworn
to promote. But while he exerted himself in reconciling differences
which arose respecting subordinate steps of procedure, he steadily
resisted every attempt to introduce principles contradictory to those
of the Church of Scotland, and the other reformed and Presbyterian
churches.
In the beginning of the year 1645, Henderson was appointed to
assist the commissioners of the two parliaments, in the treaty between
them and the king, at Uxbridge. The parliamentary commissioners
were instructed to demand the abolition of episcopacy, and the rati-
fication of the presbyterian government. The king's commissioners
objected to the abolition of episcopacy, upon which it was agreed to
hear the divines on both sides. Henderson opened the case, and
brought forward such arguments as seemed most likely to bring the
question to that speedy issue which the state of matters required.
The debate lasted a considerable time ; and although — as is common
on such occasions — each party claimed the victory, yet in the judg-
362 SCOTS WORTHIES.
merit of those who must be allowed not to have been prejudiced in
favour of the divine right of presbytery, Henderson, while he
equalled the king's commissioners in learning, surpassed them far in
modesty. The treaty having been broken oft, he returned to London,
and continued to assist the Assembly of divines in their labours.
Towards the close of this year, it was judged necessary that he,
with some others, should go down to Scotland, to attempt to bring
about a better correspondence among the nobility, who in conse-
quence of the distresses of the country — occasioned by the ravages
of the earl of Montrose — had fallen into disunion and animosities,
which were fomented by the secret artifices of the court. But, just
when they were ready to take their journey, Henderson was detained
at the earnest request of the ministers and city of London, who
represented the impropriety of his absence at that critical time, when
certain questions upon which the uniformity between the kingdoms
turned, were in dependence.
In the spring of 1646, the king's affairs being entirely ruined, he
threw himself, without any previous notice, into the Scottish army,
which retired with him to Newcastle. He had no sooner entered the
town than he sent for Henderson. This was a critical moment. The
only measure which promised settlement to the nation, and the
restoration of the king to the exercise of his authority, was his speedy
consent to the establishment of the Presbyterian Reformation.
Henderson was judged the fittest person to deal with his majesty
about the necessity of a speedy concurrence in it ; and in these
circumstances, notwithstanding his unfitness for the journey, he
complied with the king's request, and arrived at Newcastle about the
middle of May.
Although he received a welcome reception from his majesty, he
soon perceived, not without deep concern, that he had been deceived
as to his hopes of his compliance with the requisitions of parliament.
Charles signified that he could not in conscience consent to the
abolition of episcopacy, and proposed that Henderson should enter
into a debate with some episcopal divines, of whose names he gave
him a list, in his presence. This, however, Henderson declined, as
what he had no authority to undertake, and what would be exceed-
ingly prejudicial to his majesty's afiairs. It was, therefore, agreed,
that the scruples which the king entertained should be discussed in a
Beries of papers, which should pass privately between him and
Henderson. These continued from the 29th of May to the 15th of
July. The papers are eight in number — five by his majesty, who
was assisted in the dispute by Sir Robert Murray ; and three by
Henderson.
Most unfortunately for the king, and probably for the honour of
Scotland, Henderson's constitution broke down at this critical period,
under the crushing mental anxiety and actual bodily fatigue he had
for years endured in the public service. He was a man by no means
robust from the first, and his health had been but precarious from the
time he was translated to Edinburgh. With a view to recover his
strength, which had begun to sink while he was there, he petitioned
the Assembly to be allowed to retire to the peace and purity of a
ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 3(33
country parish ; but the state of parties both in England and Scot-
land would not admit of it. The first symptom that alarmed his
friends was about the middle of June, 1645, when for several days
he was confined to his bedroom by a languishing but not sharp attack
of gravel. In about a fortnight after, the urinary passage was for a
time altogether obstructed. " This," says Baillie, " feared me much ;
but now, blessed be God, he is well." Upon his return to Edin-
burgh, he was invited to dine with his good friend, Mr. Stewart
(afterwards Sir James), subsequently Lord Provost of Edinburgh.
He was extremely cheerful and hearty at table. After dinner was
over, he asked Sir James if he had not observed him more than
ordinarily cheerful. He answered, he was extremely pleased to find
him so well as he was. " Well," said the other, " I am near the end
of my race, hasting home, and there was never a school-boy more
desirous to have the play than I am to have leave of this world ; and
in a few days (naming the time,) I will sicken and die. In my sick-
ness I will be much out of ease to speak of anything, but I desire
that you may be with me as much as you can, and you shall see all
will end well." All fell out as he had foretold ; and on the 19th of
August, Henderson rested from all the toils of a useful and busy life.
On the testimony of several of his brethren, who visited him on
his deathbed, he continued to manifest the strongest desire that the
work of reformation should go on, in the same way it had done from
the beginning. To himself, his death was a relief from sickness and
sorrow ; but to his friends, it was one of the sad presages of ap-
proaching evil.
Henderson's mortal remains were interred in the churchyard of
St. Giles, near the grave of his fellow-reformer in the Scottish church.
When this cemetery was converted into the Parliament Square,
his body was removed to the Grayfriars, where it lies in the burial
ground of the Henderson's of Fordel. His nephew, George Hen-
derson, erected a suitable monument to his memory, which still
stands entire on the south-west side of Grayfriars church.
So violent was the spirit of dissension in those days, that when the
episcopal party got the ascendancy after the Restoration, they erased
the inscription from the monument ; but it has since been restored.
By Henderson's decease, the church and kingdom experienced a
severe loss. His death was justly lamented by the Covenanters.
Before the General Assembly, in 1647, Baillie pronounced the fol-
lowing tender eulogium, which cannot fail to be read with the deep-
est interest : " One of my dear colleagues (Henderson,) having been
removed by death, may I be permitted to conclude with my earnest
wish, that that glorious soul, of worthy memory, who is now crowned
with the reward of his labours for God and for us, may be fragrant
among us, so long as free and pure Assemblies remain in this land,
which I hope will be till the coming of our Lord. You know he
spent his strength, wore out his days, and breathed out his life, in
the service of God and this church. This binds it on us and our
posterity, to account him the fairest ornament, after Mr. John Knox,
of incomparable memory, that ever the church of Scotland did
enjoy."
364 SCOTS WORTHIES.
He was the first of the clergy who struck the spark and kindled
the train in the darkest period of episcopal supremacy ; in defiance
of dangers and difficulties innumerable, he overcame the powers of
the bisliops, when exerted in compelling presbyterians to use the
ISorvice Book ; he restored to the nation the inestimable privilege of
convening in General Assemblies; and he framed that constitution
of our church which, almost unaltered, has blest and upheld it to this
day. By his discriminating moderation in deliberative councils ; by
his jienetration in discovering and suggesting the proper course ; by
his personal influence as a constant Sloderator ; and by the upright-
ness of his intentions and the kindness of his heart, he maintained
the cause of his party, disarmed the rancour of his opponents,
secured the friendship of the kinar, and sowed the first seeds of that
civil and sacred liberty which was matured and confirmed by the
Revolution in 1688.
Henderson was never married. By his testament, registered in
the Edinburgh commissary court, he appears to have been possessed
of considerable wealth, which, with . the exception of some small
legacies, he left to George Henderson, his brotlier's son, who attended
him during the latter years of his life. With the exception of a
great number of pamphlets, printed speeches, and sermons, composed
during the bustle of an active life, he has left no standard works to
hand down his great talents and worth to posterity ; " But so long
as the purity of our presbyterian establishment remains," says Dr.
Alton, " as often as the General Assembly of our church is per-
mitted to convene — while the Confession of Faith, and Catechisms
Larger and Shorter, hold a place in our estimation, second to the
Scriptures alone — and till the history of the revolution during the
reign of Charles I. is forgotten — the memory of Alexander Hen-
derson will be respected, and every presbyterian patriot in Scotland
will continue grateful for the Second Reformation of our church,
which Henderson was so instrumental in effecting."
GEORGE GILLESPIE.
This eminent divine and author was the son of Mr. John Gillespie, some
time minister of the gospel at Kircaldy . It is very probable that he was
born about the year 1610 or 1611, as we find that in the year 1637,
his celebrated work entitled " A Dispute against the English Popish
GEORGE GILLESPIE. 355
Ceremonies," &c., was, by public proclamation, prohibited from be-
ing read, in consequence of having given offence to the episcopal
party, who were then predominant in the nation ; and, at that time
Gillespie is said to have scarcely reached the twenty-fifth year of his
age. It may also be supposed, that he received the rudiments of his
euucation in his native parish, from which he appears to have been
early removed to the university of St. Andrew's, where his progress
is reported to have been such, as to bear off the palm from the
greater part of his fellow-students.
His admission to the holy ministry was at a time when non-con-
formists found it impossible to be appointed to a charge, without the
sanction of the bishops ; and therefore it appears that he spent a few
years, after receiving his license, in the capacity of probationer. It
was at that time, when chaplain in the family of the earl of Cassilis,
that he wrote the offensive publication to which we have alluded ;
and which, being of too corrosive a quality, could not be digested by
the weak stomachs of the bishops. It is certain, also, that he was
chaplain in the family of Yiscount Kenmure, about the year 1634,
as we have already mentioned, in the life of that distinguished
nobleman.
After the lapse of a few years, however, he was at length ordained
minister of Wemyss, in Fife, on the 26th April, 1638, being the
first of that period who was admitted by a presbytery, without an
acknowledgment of the bishops. Gillespie began now very pro-
minently to exert himself in defence of Presbytery ; and at the
el&venth session of the memorable Assembly held at Glasgow, in
1638, he delivered a very learned and appropriate sermon from these
words, — "The king's heart is in the hand of the Lord, as the rivers
of water : he turneth it whithersoever he will." In this discourse,
the earl of Argyle thought he encroached too nearly upon the royal
prerogative, and admonished the Assembly very gravely upon the
subject, which all took in good part, as appeared in a speech delivered
by the moderator in support of the admonition.
At the General Assembly held at Edinburgh, in 1641, a call for
Gillespie, from the town of Aberdeen, was laid upon the Assembly's
table ; but in this instance the lord commissioner and himself advo-
cated his cause so well, that he was allowed to remain at Wemyss.
His stay was not long, however ; for the General Assembly in the
following year, ordered him to be translated to the city of Edinburgh,
where it appears he continued until the day of his death, which was
about six years after.
Gillespie was one of the four ministers sent as commissioners from
the Church of Scotland to the "Westminster Assembly, in the year
1643 ; and there he proved himself to be a man of great parts and
learning, debating with such perspicuity, strength of argument, and
calmness of spirit, as few could equal, and none excel. Upon one
occasion, at a time when both parliament and the Assembly were
sitting, a long premeditated speech was delivered in favour of Eras-
tianism, to which none of the brethren seemed prepared to reply.
Gillespie having been urged by the Scots commissioners, rose and
went over the harangue, in such a masterly manner, as to give a
366 SCOTS WORTHIES.
triumphant refutation to the whole ; and what was most surprising
was that though Gillespie seemed to have been employed in taking
notes, during the delivery of the speech to which he made answer ;
yet those who sat next him declared, that when they looked into his
note-book, they found nothing written, but here and there, " Lord,
send light — Lord, give assistance — Lord, defend thine own cause !'^
etc.
Although all our Scots commissioners lent their aid in the first
formation of our church's Catechisms, Confession of Faith, Directory
for "VYoi-ship, and Form of Church Government, which were after-
wards revised and approved of by that Assembly, yet the assistance
of no one was of greater service than that of Gillespie.*
" None (says one of his colleagues who was present,) in all the
Assembly, did reason more pertinently than Gillespie ; he is an ex-
cellent youth ; my heart blesses God in his behalf." And when the
passage, Acts xv. 22, was adduced in support of the power of ordi-
nation, and a very animated debate followed, — " the very learned
and accurate Gillespie," says Mr. Baillie, " a singular ornament of
our church, than whom not one in the Assembly spoke to better pur-
pose, nor with better acceptance to all the hearers, showed that the
Greek word, by the Episcopals translated ordination^ was truly
choosing ; and farther, that it imported the people's suffrages in elect-
ing their own office-hearers?^ Elsewhere he says of him, " We get
good help in our Assembly debates of lord "Warriston, an occasional
commissioner, but of none more than the noble youth Gillespie. I
admire his gifts, and bless God, as for all my colleagues, so for him
in particular, as equal in these to the first in the Assembly."
After his return from the Westminster Assembly, he was em-
ployed in most of the public afiairs connected with the church, until
1648, when he was chosen moderator of the General Assembly. In
this Assembly several famous Acts were passed in favour of the
covenanted work of reformation, — particularly that in reference to
the unlawful engagement against England, at that time entered into
by the duke of Hamilton, and those of the malignant faction. Gil-
lespie was also one of those nominated by this Assembly, to prose-
cute the treaty of uniformity in religion with England ; but in a
short time after, his constitution gave way, and he died about the
17th of December following.
In a letter to Gillespie, when on his deathbed, Rutherford says,
" Be not heavy, the life of faith is now called for ; doing was never
reckoned on your accounts, though Christ in and by you hath done
more than by twenty, yea, a hundred grayhaired and godly pastors.
Look to that word. Gal. ii. 20, ' Nevertheless, I live ; yet not I, but
Christ liveth in me.' "
During his life he was always firmly attached to the work of
reformation, and continued so to the end. About two months before
his decease, he sent a paper to the Commission of the General
Assembly, in which he gave faithful warning against every sin and
* When the Confession of Faith was about to be compiled, the following persons were
added to the Scots commissioners : — Dr. Gouge, Dr. Hoyl, Mr. Herle, Mr, Gataker, Mr.
Tuckney, Mr. Reynolds, and Mr. Reeves, who prepared materials for that purpose.
GEORGE GILLESPIE. 3^7
backsliding that he then perceived to be growing in church and
state.
Thus died Gillespie, very little past the prime of life. He was an
excellent theologian, a man of singular magnanimity, and one who
possessed great freedom of expression. On every occasion in which
he was called to exercise his ministerial function, he gave signal
proofs of his high talents. 'No man's death, at that time, was more
lamented than his ; and such was the sense the public bad of his
merit, that the Committee of Estates, by an act dated December
20th, 1648, did, " as an acknowledgment for his faithfulness in all
the public employments entrusted to him by this church, both at
home and abroad, his faithful labours, and indefatigable diligence
in all the exercises of his ministerial calling, for his Master's service,
and his learned writings published to the world, in which rare and
profitable employments, both for church and state, he truly spent
himself, and closed his days, ordain, that the sum of one thousand
founds sterling should be given to his wife and children." Although
the parliament, however, by their act dated June 8th, 1650, unani-
mously ratified the above resolution, and recommended to their
committee to make the same effectual ; yet Cromwell, having soon
after usurped the reins of government, frustrated this pious design,
as his grandson, the Rev. George Gillespie, minister of Strathmiglo,
afterwards declared.
Besides " The English Popish Ceremonies," he wrote also " Aaron's
Rod Blossoming," which, with his miscellaneous questions, first
printed in 1649, clearly show that he was a man of most profound
parts, learning, and abilities.
In his Latter Will he declared that the expectation of death did
not shake him from the faith and truth of Christ which he had pro-
fessed and preached ; and it was his firm conviction, that the so-
much-vilified covenant and reformation of the three kingdoms was
of God, and would have a happy conclusion. He repented no for-
wardness nor zeal he had shown in promoting the glorious work ;
and prayed earnestly that there might be such a spirit in those of
the nobility who stood up for the truth, — that they would take more
of God's counsel, and lean less to their own reason and understand-
ing." " But," he concludes, " if there be a falling back to the sin
of compliance with malignant ungodly men, then I look for the
breaking out of the wrath of the Lord, till there be no remedy."
368 SCOTS WORTHIES.
JOHN M'CLELLAND
The earliest notice we have of this strenuous supporter of Pres-
bytery, and faithful servant of Christ, is, when he was employed as
schoolmaster at a place called 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 respect-
able order, may be presumed from the circumstance of his having
educated several young 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
qualified, 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
excommunicated.
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 ; but 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
Donegal, in private meetings ; until, hunted and persecuted by epis-
copal tyranny, he was compelled in disguise to seek refuge in Scot-
land. About the year 1638, he was ordained minister of Kirkcud-
bright, where he continued to labour with great assiduity till the
day of his death. During the whole of his incumbency in that
parish, he discovered more than ordinary zeal, not only in testi-
fying against the corruptions of the times ; but by an unimpeach-
able walk and conversation, as one bent upon the advancement 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, them min-
ister^ at Stirling, and afterwards bishop of Dunkeld, having heard
of his extraordinary diligence in promoting personal and family
religion, 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
JOHN M'CLELLAND. 369
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 ministrations, 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 there-
fore Guthrie made good his threat, by acutally 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 investigate the mat-
ter, and that the offenders might be censured, whether it should
turn out to be the persons libelled, or their accusers. At this,
Guthrie, the earl of Seaforth, and others of the coalition, were so
much irritated, that for a time nothing could be heard in the Assem-
bly, on account of the tumult and commotion which the libel had
excited. The farther prosecution of the charge, however, seems to
have dropped here.
M'Clelland is said to have been occasionally endued with a pro-
phetic 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 Eng-
land, without hearing a cock crow, a dog bark, or seeing a man s
face ;" — and, " that if he had the best land in all England, 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 faithfidly discharged his duties as minister
of Kirkcudbright, for nearly twelve years, and borne unwavering
testimony against the unscriptural introduction and exercise of
patronage, and for the perpetual 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 apos-
tolic life, not knowing what it was to be afraid of any one in the
cause of Christ ; and he was admitted to nearer and more intimate
communion with his divine Lord and Master, than generally falls
to the lot even of the most sincere Christians. " The secret of the
Lord is with them that fear him ; and he will show them his cove-
nant." His gracious and fatherly providence is ever towards them,
working for, and taking care of them.
A little before his death he composed the following verses, breath-
ing the most confident assurances of eternal life, through the right-
^'>usness 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
24
370 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Stamped on my brow. I'm ravished with my crown
I shine Sebright. 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,
Call me to joys. Begone, short woes, begone 1
1 live to die, — but row I die to live —
1 now enjoy more than I could believe.
1 he promise me unto possession sends,
Faith in fruition ; hope in vision ends.
DAVID CALDERWOOD.
This eminent historian of tbe church, and sufferer for the cause of
Christ, holds a prominent part in the annals of ecclesiastical bio-
graphy. Of his early life and literary acquirements, however, we
are unable to say more than that after having qualified himself for
the ministry, and obtained license, he was appointed minister of
Crailing, near Jedburgh. Here he preached the word of God for a
considerable 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 faithful 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 information having been sent to James by the bishops, instruc-
tions were given to the council, to punish Calderwood and another
minister with exemplary severity. Through the influence of the earl
of Lothian with the chancellor, in favour of Calderwood, however,
their punishment was mitigated to confinement within their own
parishes.
Under this sad restriction was Calderwood 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 following. 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
*t ; to which Calderwood responded, — " Whatsoever was the phrase
DAVID CALDERWOOD. 37X
of speech, they meant no other thing but to protest, that they would
give passive obedience to his majesty, but could not give active
obedience unto any unlawful thing which should flow from that
article." " Active and passive obedience !" said the king. " That is,
we will rather suffer than practice," said Calderwood. " I will tell
thee, man," said the king, " what is obdience, — what the centurion
said to his servants, ^ To this man. Go, and he goeth, and to that man,
Come, and he cometh ; that is obedience !" Calderwood replied,
" To suffer, Sire, is also obedience, howbeit not of the same kind : and
that obedience was not absolute, but limited, with exception of a
countermand from a supenor power." " 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 replied, " I
have been confined these eight or nine years ; so my conformity or
non-conformity in that point could not be well known." " Gude faith,
thou art a very knave," said the king ; " see these same false puritans,
they are ever playing with equivocations !" His majesty then asked
whether- he would conform or not, if he were released, — to which
Calderwood made answer, " I am vrronged, 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. Calderwood then craved
permission to say a few words to the bishops ; which being granted,
he spoke as follows: " JSTeither can ye suspend 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 ?" " ISTot in this court," answered Calderv/ood. 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 sentence ? To which he replied, " Your sen-
tence is not the sentence of the kirk, but a sentence null in itself,
and therefore I cannot 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. Andrew's till further orders should be given for his banish-
ment ; upon which he was upbraided by the bishops, who said, that
he deserved to be treated like Ogilvy, the Jesuit, who had been
hanged for denying the king's power. When about to reply, the
bishop of St. Andrew's said — " No answer !" and the secretary cast
it in his teeth — " If ye will answer to anything, answer to your
372 SCOTS WORTHIES.
libel !" " I have answered to that long ago," said Calderwood ;
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 mean-
time Calderwood said to Scone, " My lord, this is not the first like
turn that hath fallen into your hands I" — " 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 1"
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
acknowledge the sentence pronounced by the bishops.
Calderwood was committed a close prisoner, and the same after-
noon an order was given to transport him to the tolbooth of Edin-
burgh. 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 country. 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 Yirginia. rrovidence, 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.f
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, because of the winter-season, that
he might have time to get in his year's stipend. To this the king
replied, " Ilowbeit he begged it were no matter, he would know
♦ 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." — Cold.
Hut.
f At Glasgow the 27th day of the month of July, 1 607 years — The whilk day, in pres-
ence 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 saretie
for Mr. David Calderwood, minister at Crailing, that the said Mr. David, betwixt the date
hereof, and the feast and terme of Michaelmas next to come, shall depart and passe forth
from his Majestie's dominions, and not return again within the samine, without his Majes-
tie's license first had and obtained thereto, under the pain of five hundred merks. — Cold.
Hist.
DAVID CALDERWOOD. 373
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 importunate for the pro-
rogation, the king answered, I will advise with my bishops. In this
way the time was protracted till the year 1619, that he wrote a book
called Perth Assemlly^ 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, w^here he kept himself as retired as possible. His principal
place of residence was at Edinburgh, where he exerted himself
greatly in strengthening the hands of non-conformists, 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
Assembly at Glasgow, in 1638 ; and then, by recommendation of the
General Assembly of 1646, he was required to consider the order of
the visitation of kirks, and trials of presbyteries, and to make report
thereon to the next Assembly ; and again, at the General Assembly
of 1648, a further recommendation was given him, to make a
draught of the form of visitation of particular congregations, against
the next Assembly. He was also one of those appointed, with Mr.
Dickson, to draw up the form of the Directory for the public
worship of God, by the General Assembly of 1643.
After having both spent and been spent, with the apostle, for the
cause and interest of Jesus Christ, while the English army lay at
Lothian, during 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
Altare Pamascenum^ with other pieces in English, which contributed
not a little to keep many straight in that declining 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 manuscript ; which, both as to style and manner is far
preferable.
874 SCOTS WORTHIES.
HUGH BINNING.
The subject of this memoir was the eldest son of John Binning
of Dalvennan, and Margaret M'Kell, daughter of Matthew M'Kell,
minister of Bothwell, and sister to Hugh M'Kell, one of the
ministers of Edinburgh. 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 eifects
of which became very early 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 language, 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 precious to be trifled with ; and therefore, while the rest of the
scholars were at play, he employed his time, either in secret
communion 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 enjoyed sweet familiarity with his Saviour, and lived
in near communion with him. When he arrived at the thirteenth or
fourteenth year of his age, he had attained to such experience in the
ways of God, that the most judicious and tried Christians in the
Elace confessed they were much edified, strengthened, and comforted
y 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 philosophy, 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.
Notwithstanding 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 philosophy, he took the degree of
HUGH BINNING. 375
Master of Arts before he was nineteen years of age ; after whicli lie
entered upon the study of divinity, with a view to serve God in the
holy ministry, with a mind richly stored with the knowledge of the
liberal sciences, and deeply impressed with the eternal importance
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 before the masters.
Besides Binning, there were other two candidates ; one of whom had
powerful interest with Dr. Strang, principal of the college ; and the
other was a scholar of great abilities. Binning, however, 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 consequently better qualified to be a teacher of youth ;
besides, that Binning having been but very recently a fellow-student
with those he was to be appointed to teach, it was not to be expected
that the students would behave towards him with that respect and
regard which should be paid to a teacher. To this, however, it was
replied, — That Binning was such an accomplished scholar, so wise
and sedate, as to be above all the follies and vanities of youth ; and
that what was wanting in years was made up sufficiently by his more
than ordinary and singular endowments. Upon which a member of
the faculty, perceiving the contest to be very keen, proposed a trial
between the two candidates extempore^ on any subject the judges
should be pleased to prescribe. This put an end to the division
between them ; and those who had opposed Binning, not willing to
engage their friend with such an able antagonist a second time,
withdrew their objections.
376 SCOTS WORTHIES.
He was not quite nineteen years of age when he was appointed
regent and professor of philosophy ; and though he had not time to
prepare any part of his course systematically, having instantly to
begin his class; yet such was the quickness and fertility of his
genius, the tenaciousness of his memory, and the solidity of his
judgment, 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.
Ho continued in this profession three years, and discharged his
ti-ust 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 w^as so reten-
tive, 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 know-
ledge in divinity in a composition from 2 Cor. v. 14: :f 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 Edin-
burgh, who judged of it in the same manner. But when she returned
to Glasgow, she found her mistake by Binning asking it from her.
This was the first discovery he had given of his abilities in explain-
ing the Scriptures.
At the expiration of the three years which he had spent as
professor of philosophy, 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
presbytery, having in view to supply the vacancy 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 be the 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 he went through to the unanimous approba-
tion 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
chair should be vacant.
Considering his age, he was a prodigy of learning; for, before he
* 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 conversation.— i)r. Leishman.
t *' For the love of Christ constraineth us, because we thus judge, that if one died for all,
then were all dead."
J The office of principal of the university of Glasgow was disjoined from the cure of the
(larish of Govan, in J 621. Mr. William Wilkie was Binning's immediate predecessor, who
*vas deposed by the synod, on the 29th of April, 1649. — Br. Leishman.
HUGH BINNING. 37T
was twenty-six, he had such a large stock of useful knowledge, as to
be called "philologist, philosopher, and excellent divine;" and he
might well have been an ornament to the most famous and flourish-
ing university in Europe. And this was the more surprising,
considering his weakness and infirmity of body, not being able to
read 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 labourous study.
Though -naturally studious and intent upon fulfilling all his ministe-
rial duties, he nevertheless turned his thoughts to marriage, 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, accompanied with his friend and some others, among
whom were several ministers, to a neighbouring country-congregation,
upon the day of their weekly sermon. The minister of the parish
delayed till their arrival, with the intention of procuring the assist-
ance 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 diflacult task to him to preach upon a short
warning. After retiring a little to premeditate, and implore his
Master's presence and assistance, (for he was ever afraid to be alone
in this work,) he entered the pulpit 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 conversation." 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 pro-
testors 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 dififerences, he wrote an excellent treatise on Christian Love, which
contains many strong and pathetic passages, most apposite to this
subject. He was no fomenter of faction, but studious of the public
tranquillity. He was a man of moderate principles and temperate
passions, never imposing or overbearing upon others, but willingly
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 the 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 sum-
moned these three and all the other clergymen of the city to a meet-
ing 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 confeii^nce, 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,
878 SCOTS WORTHIES.
principal of the Univereity 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, Hkc many other of
the parliamentary officers, was a preacher, as well as a soldier.
Some of Cromwell's chaplains are also represented as having taken a
share in the discussion, along with the Rev. Hugh Binning. Crom-
well, it is said was struck with the fearlessness and ability of so
young a minister. ' Who is that learned and bold young man V said
he. when he was told his name was Binning, he replied, ' 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, warning every
man and teaching every man in great ministerial wisdom and free-
dom, that he might present every man perfect in Christ Jesus, —
whereunto he laboured, striving according to his working, which
wrought in him mightily, — he died of a consumption, when entering
on the twenty-sixth year of his age, leaving behind him a sweet
savour and an epistle of commendation upon the hearts of his
hearers. While he lived, he was highly valued and esteemed, hav-
ing been a successful instrument of saving himself and them that
heard him ; of turning sinners unto righteousness, and of perfecting
the saints ; and died much lamented by all good people, who had an
opportunity of knowing him. He was a man of singular piety, of
an humble, meek, and peaceful disposition, and a judicious and
lively preacher. He was justly accounted 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. ITow, however,
he shines in the kingdom of his Father, in a more conspicuous and
refulgent manner, even as the '' brightness of the firmament, and as
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 to be erected for him, on which
there is to this day the following inscription in Latin ;
#
Hic srrvs est me. hvoo BrNNmovs ;
FACVNDIA, DOCTRINA
ILOSOPH
PR^CO
DENIQVE EVANGELII FIDELIS #
ET Exnnvs. Qvi e medio REEVM CVRSV
8VBLATVS, ANKO ^ETATIS 26, DOM.
HUGH BINNING. 379
AVTEM 1653. MVTAVIT PATEIAM NON
SOCIETATEM, EO QVOD VIVVS CVM
DEO AMBVLAVIT. ET SI QVID VLTKA
IMQVIKAS, CJ5TEKA SILEO *, CVM NEC
TV NEC MAEMOB HOC
CAPIAT.*
He left behind him a disconsotate widow and an only son, called
John after the grandfather, to whom the grandfather at his death
left the estate of Dalvennan ; but John having been engaged in the
insurrection at Bothwell-bridge, anno 16Y9, it was forfeited, and he
continued dispossessed 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 afterwards 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
Benfrew, 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
former husband, undertaking to defray all the charges of the funeral,
— which was done accordingly. And to this day Binning is men-
tioned among them w^ith particular veneration.
The first of his works that were printed is entitled, " The Com-
mon Principles of the Christian Peligion, clearly proved, and singu-
larly improved ; or a Practical Catechism, wherein some of the most
concerning foundations of our faith are solidly laid down ; and that
doctrine which is according to godliness, is sweetly, yet pungently
pressed home, and most satisfyingly handled." In the year 1670,
another posthumous work was printed : it is entitled, " The Sinner's
Sanctuary ; being forty Sermons upon the Eighth chapter of the
Epistle of John, Chap. 1st. and Chap. 2d, Yerses 1, 2, 3.'' The last
treatise that has been printed is, " Heart Humiliation, or Miscellany
Sermons, preached upon some choice texts at several solemn occa-
sions." There is also a valuable treatise upon Christian Love, con-
sisting of several sheets written in a very small character, — it is
divided into chapters ; besides several sermons upon very edifying
subjects, useful and profitable for our times. There is, likewise, a
book publised under his name in 4to, consisting of fifty-one pages,
with this title, " An Useful Case of Conscience, learnedly and accu-
rately discussed and resolved, concerning associations and confedera-
cies with idolaters, infidels, heretics, malignants, or any other known
enemies of truth and godliness." But it is very much questioned by
the most intelligent, if that book was really Binning's.
* " Here is deposited Mr. Hugh Binning, a man distinguished for piety, eloquence and
learning ; an eminent philologist, philosopher, and theologian, — in fine a faithful and ex-
cellent preacher of the gospel; who was removed from this lower world in the 26th year
of his age, and in the year of our Lord, 1653. He changed his country, not his society;
because when on earth he walked with God. If thou inquirest anything farther, I am
silent as to the rest ; since neither thou nor this marble can receive it.''
380 SCOTS WORTfflES.
ANDREW GRAY,
In the biography of this illustrious young divine, there is an uncer-
tainty regarding the exact period of his birth ; but, calculating back
from the date of a letter addressed by him on his deathbed to Lord
Warriston, on the 7th day of February, 1656 ; and bearing in mind
that he became a licentiate before he had completed his twentieth
year, with two years and a half that he was incumbent in his first
and only charge, it appears that he must have been born in the year
1633. Having been very early sent to school, he made such rapid
progress, that in a comparatively short time he was qualified for
entering the university — and there by the sprightliness of his genius,
he made such proficiency both in scholastic learning and divinity,
that before he was twenty years of age he was prepared to enter
upon the holy office of the ministry.
From his very infancy he had studied the Scriptures ; and like
another young Samson, the Spirit of God began, very early to move
him ; there being such a delightful solemnity in his early conversa-
tion, that what Gregory Nazianzen once said of the great Bazil might
well be applied to him, — "That he held forth learning beyond liis
age, and fixedness of manners 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, al<-hough he had
hardly arrived at the twentieth year of his age, and therefore con-
siderably below that appointed by the constitution of the church, ex-
cept in extraordinary cases.
No sooner had he entered into his Master's vineyard, than the
people from all quarters flocked to hear his sermons, — it being their
constant emulation who should be most under the refreshing drops of
his ministry ; insomuch that he and his learned colleague, Mr. Dur-
ham, were one time walking together in the choir, Mr. Durham,
observing the multitude thronging 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 hea-
ven. I rejoice that Christ is preached, and that his kingdom and
interest are gaining ground ; for I am content to be anything, or
nothing, that Christ may be all in all."
ANDREW GRAY. 381
Gray had a remarkably singular gift in preaching, having mnch
experience in the most mysterious points of Christian practice and
l^rofession ; indeed, in handling all his subjects, whether doctrinal,
or practical, being free from youthful pedantry and affectation of
human learning, though of a truly classical genius and more than
ordinary abilities, he outstripped many who had entered the Lord's
vineyard before him. His mode of address was animated and rap-
turous, and well adapted to affect the hearts of his hearers ; he was
so helped to press home God's threatenings upon the consciences of
his hearers, that his contemporary, Durham, observed " that many
times he caused the very hairs of their heads to stand on end."
Among his other excellencies in preaching, 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 remain about
two years only, — the Spirit of the Lord as it were lighting up a lamp
into a sudden blaze, that was not to remain long in his church. In
reference to this, in a preface to some of his sermons it is very perti-
nently observed, — " How awakening, convincing, and reproving, the
example of this very young minister might be to many ministers of
the gospel who have been long in the vineyard, but come far short
of his labours and progress ! God thinks fit now and then to raise up
a child to reprove the sloth and negligence of many thousands of
advanced years : and shows that he can perfect his own praise out
of the mouths of babes and sucklings."
It has been said that Gray often longed for the 22d year of his
age, having had a presentiment that he was then to rest from his
labours, and by a perpetual jubilee enjoy his blessed Lord and Mas-
ter for ever. And certain it is, that in his sermons we often find
him ardently praying for the time when he might enter upon the pos-
session 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 Pro-
vidence for his deliverance furnished him with a theme of gratitude,
whioh he often improved in his after life.
'Perhaps it may be asked, — ^^vhat were Gray's sentiments concern-
ing 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, w^ho
was suspected of looking favourably upon these defections. His re-
ply to Durham when on his deathbed, when asked what he now
thought of these things, was conclusive ; " I am of the same mind
as formerly, and regret much that I have been so sparing in public
against these resolutions," — speaking at the same time so pathetically
382 SCOTS WORTHIES.
of tlieir sinfulness, and the calamities they must induce, that Dnr
ham, contrary to liis former practice, durst never after speak in
defence of them.
But the time was now drawing nigh when the Lord w^as 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 by death to the
Author of life, — his soul taking flight at the early age of twenty-two,
into the arms of his Saviour, whom he had served so faithfully in his
day and generation.
lie 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 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 alFable
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 advocates for the propagation and advancement of Christ's
kingdom.
It is to be i^egretted 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 conclusion of the letter, where he
addressed his lordship thus : " ISTow, not to trouble your lordship,
whom I highly reverence and my soul was knit to you in the Lord^
but that 3^ou will bespeak my case to the great Master of requests,
and lay my broken state before him who hath pled the desperate
case of many, according to the sweet word in Lam. iii. 56, ' Thou
hast heard my voice ; hide not thine ear at my breathing, at my cry.'
This is all at this time 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 ^nd circumstances."
His well-known sermons are printed in several tracts. Those
called Gray's Works are published in one volume octavo. In addi-
tion to the eleven sermons printed some time ago, was lately
published a large collection, to the number of fifty-one, entitled his
Select Sermons ; in which only three of those formerly published for
connexion's sake, and his letter to lord Warriston, 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
* 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 lime minister of the gospel
at Irvine.
JAMES DURHAM. 3g3
granted, that the excellencies of the ancient fathers and schoolmen
all concentrate in them. His doctrine is clear and perspicuous ; his
reproofs 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 correctness 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 ot
lowers, or the delightful harmony of concordant sounds, they never
lil to impart happiness to the renewed soul.
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 Monyfeith,
and shire of Angus — an estate now known by the name of Wedder-
burn. He is said to have been born about the year 1622 ; but all his
biographers are silent regarding his early years, with the exception
of an unanimous assent to his juvenile industry, as having been an
apt and successful 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 Dantervie, 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 wdth this excellent lady, although guilty of
no flagrant and open 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 leaning
towards Episcopacy ; and therefore rested contented with an outward
form of godliness, w^hile 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 Abercorn, in the county of Linlithgow, and it
384 SCOTS WORTHIES,
happening to be the time of the communion, he was through much
persuasion, at the entreaty of his wife and mother, prevailed upon to
fo to church, upon the Saturday. The minister who officiated that
ay caught Durham's attention so effectually, that he felt much
affected. No solicitations, 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 Kev. 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 therefore which believe
he is precious : but unto them which be disobedient, the stone which
the builders disallowed, the same is made the head of the corner,"
&c. From that time Durham generally called M.Q\vi[\e 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 meditation became his sole delight : and that he might
enjoy these without molestation, he caused a private study to be
built for himself, where he was often so serious in his application,
that he frequently forgot the hours 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 v/ith all
his house, but even prayed with his company, and seriously exhorted
them regarding, the interest of their souls.
The circumstances of his call to the ministry was somewhat singu-
lar. When the Scots army were about to engage with the English,
he thought it proper to call his company to prayer before the engage-
ment; and as he began, Mr. David Dickson, then professor of
divinity at Glasgow, coming past the army, and seeing the soldiers
engaged in prayer, and hearing the voice of one praying, drew near,
alighted from his horse, and joined with them. Tie was so much
captivated by Durham's prayer, that he immediately after waited
* At one time when upon a visit to Dundee, he happened to be in company with one of
the nninisters 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 gen-
tleman, 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 snailed, and asked pardon.
JAMES DURHAM. 385
upon liim, 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 remark-
able 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 reflecting how wonderfully the Lord had thus saved
him, and that his stating himself to be a priest had been the cause of
his preservation, he at once resolved, in testimony of his grateful
ssnse 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 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 recommendation, the session of Glasgow directed Mr.
Ramsay, one of the ministers, to request 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 doctrine,
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 J^ovember, 1647.
He applied himself to the work of the ministry with great
diligence ; but, considering that no man that warreth entangleth
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, — " "V^e then are ambassa-
dors for Christ," &c. ; next sabbath he intended to preach at
Montrose ; but receiving 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
afl[licting dispensation was very remarkable. After a short silence,
he said to some about him, " Now, who could persuade me that this
dispensation 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 divinity, being called to the
same office in the university of Edinburgh, the commissioners of the
General Assembly, authorized to visit the university of Glasgow,
imanimously invited Durham to succeed him. But before he was
25
386 SCOTS WORTfflES.
admitted to tbat charge, the General Assembly, persuaded of his
eminent piety, steadfastness, prudence, and moderation, after mature
deliberation, selected him, though then only twenty-eight years of
age, to attend the king's family as chaplain. In this situation, though
the times were extremely difficult, he acquitted himself so wisely and
faithfully as to merit the approbation of all who observed him.
Indeed, during his stay at court, such was his high Christian
decorum, that levity was overawed in his presence. His great
ambition was to have God's favour rather than that of great men,
and he studied more to profit and edify their souls, than to please
their fancies.
He continued in this office till the King returned to England, after]
which he resumed his professional labours. Towards the end of
January 1651, the common session of Glasgow instructed Mr.
Gillespie to write him, stating that Mr. Kamsay was officiating as \
professor of divinity, and urging his return to his charge ; in I
consequence of which we find him present at the session in the
beginning of April thereafter. 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. Next day Cromwell sent for him, and
said, he always thought he had been a wiser man than to meddle
with public affairs in his sermons. — ^To which Durham answered,
that it was not his practice, but he judged it both wisdom and
prudence to speak his mind on that head, seeing he had the oppor-
tunity to do so in his presence. — Cromwell dismissed him very
civilly, but desired him not to meddle with such subjects in future.
It would appear that Durham had withdrawn from Glasgow for
some time 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.
Eamsay, 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 w^hole 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 beea
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
J
JAMES DUJRHAM 387
of the supper. Upon some of those sweet and solemn occasions, lie
spoke like one who had been in heaven, recommending 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 moderation of spirit, appeared
remarkably at the period when the church was grievously 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
accordingly.
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
be died. During his last sickness, about a month before his death,
he named as his successor, Mr. Yeitch, then minister of Govan ; but
afterwards, when dying, in presence of the magistrates, ministers, and
some others who waited on him, he named other three. This altera-
tion led Mr. Carstairs to inquire the reason, after the rest were gone ;
to whom Durham in reply, said, " O 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. Kuttray, who was present at both their deaths,
declared.
When on his deathbed, Durham was under considerable darkness
about his spiritual 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 — " 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
rapture of holy joy, a little before he committed 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 proclaim 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
388 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Isa. Ivii. 1, "The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart ;
and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the right-
eous is taken away from the evil to come," gave him the following
character : — " Know ye not that there is a prince among the pastors
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
nuree ; 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 burning and shining light in the dark world, an
interpreter of the word, one among a thousand ; 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 fore-
told, was forward amongst others, to pay a tribute to his character.
His learned and pious works, in which concentrate all the excellen-
cies of the primitive and ancient fathers, are a Commentary on the
Eevelation^ 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 Godliness and Self-denial ; a Sermon on a Good Conscience.
There were lately a great many of his sermons in manuscript unpub-
lished, viz.. Three Sermons upon Resisting 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
Immoderate Anxiety ; eight upon the One Thing J^eedful ; 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. 389
SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.*
C0NSTDERA.BLE doubt exists as to the birthplace and parentage of this
celebrated divine. The most probable opinion, however, is that
which has been stated by Wodrow, that he was sprung of poor and
honest parents in Teviotdale.f Where he received his early educa-
tion, 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. Accord-
ingly, in 1617, he was 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 w^hen 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 extensive scholarship. With such associates Eutherford
* Rutherford's Letters have long been a classic with those who love the Lord Jesus
Christ in sincerity. Were we asked to name the book which is of all others in our reli-
gious literature most full of Christ, it would be these letters. If there ever was a soul
that could literally say that it was '•' sick of love," for the Saviour, that soul was Samuel
Rutherford's. Nor was the gushing love of his soul the result of either a shallow or un-
furnished mind. The man whose fame for scholarship procured for him the tender of a
professorship in two European Universities ; whose pre-eminent fitness designated him as
one of the Scottish Commissioners in the Westminster Assembly ; whose powerful pen iu
both English and Latin treatises excited at once the admiration and the dread of his ene-.
mies ; and whose prominence as a Presbyterian was such as to make him a mark for even
Milton's shaft and the deadlier hate of the Restoration, was no ordinary man. But great
as he was in the pulpit at Anwoth, when men listened to the glowing numbers of his lips
as the song of an angel ; great as he was in cleaving down with his broad claymore the
gigantic errors of his day, in church and state ; he never glows with such a light, or swells
to such a glory as when a paroled prisoner in Aberdeen we see him living so high and far
up on the mount of God and drawing strong hearts to him from every part of Scotland.
And we feel the truth of the indignant response of the noble Burleigh, when the Parlia-
ment voted him out of the College, while he lay a dying but yet a triumphing and exult-
ing man, " ye cannot vote him out of heaven." These letters are published in a neat
volume by Robert Carter & Brothers.
t This statement is in part corroborated by recent inquiries ; and it may at length be
affirmed, that Samuel Rutherford was born in the parish of Nisbet, now annexed to Crail-
ing, in the presbytery of Jedburgh. Mr. Brown, minister of Crailing, 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." — Murray's Life of Rutherford.
390 SCOTS WORTHIES.
entered upon his important duties with enthusiasm and energy ; and
there is little doubt he must have proved a most able and successful
teacher. Of this, however, we have no certain information, as his
connexion with the university 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 Ken mure, 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 ascendency over presbyterian-
ism, that although many secretly adhered to the principles of their
fathers, the jurisdiction of bishops in Scotland was openly recognised
and avowed. Xo 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
Eutherford, 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 obtained full possession of all his rights
and privileges as a parish minister, " without giving any engagement
to the bishop."
The harmony which prevailed in the 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
usefulness : 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 contemporary, Livingstone, " while he was at Anwoth, he was
the instrument of much good among a poor ignoi^ant people, many
of whom he brought to the knowledge and practice of religion."
The industry and zeal with which Rutherford discharged his import-
ant functions as a minister, are almost incredible. He was accus-
tomed 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 m^."
The fame of Rutherford was not confined to his own parish, but
extended also to the surrounding d.istrict. Multitudes came from all
quarters to Anwoth on the Sabbath, and more especially on sacra-
mental occasions, to listen to the fixithful ministrations of this devoted
* The Church of Anwoth was built for Rutherford 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 snnall galleries, which are of comparatively recent erection. The
pulpit is of oak, and is the very one out of which the celebrated 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 — Murraifi
LiJ\i of Rutherford.
SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 391
minister of Christ. For a few years after he came to Galloway, his
life was a scene of unclouded prosperity, of unbroken and uninter-
rupted peace. As a follower of Him who said, " In the world ye
shall have tribulation," the pious Eutherford could not, and in
reality did not, expect that such a state of things would always
continue. Many were the trials which yet awaited him in this vale
of tears : and ere long he began to feel that suffering of one 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
experience 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 thei^i marriage. Her
children seem to have been cut off before her, so that Eutherford was
left alone to lament his loss. To add to his distress, he had been
seized — previously to the decease of his wife — with a fever which
continued for thirteen weeks, leaving him, on his recovery, in such a
state of debility as to suspend for a time his attention to his pastoral
duties. Amid his accumulated sorrows, however, he endured as
seeing him who is invisible, and knowing that in heaven he had an
everlasting portion, which no time, no change, could destroy. And
he derived no small consolation from the kindness and sympathy of
lady Kenmure, the pious wife of Gordon of Kenmure, who had been
recently raised to the peerage.
The intimacy which subsisted between Rutherford and the Ken-
mure family had been productive of much spiritual advantage to
both parties ; and on his death-bed, lord Kenmure appears to have
been indebted, 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 published, "The Last and Heaven-
ly Speeches, and Glorious Departure of John Yiscount Kenmure ;"
a work in which the author gives a detailed account of the confer-
ences which he held with that nobleman in reference to his spiritual
and everlasting concerns. Rutherford now took a still greater
interest than ever in the spiritual welfare of Lady Kenmure ; and he
continued to maintain a frequent correspondence with her on religious
subjects throughout 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 matters was
very extensive. The age in which he lived was one of melancholy
interest to the Church of Scotland. The attempt, first of James YL,
and then of Charles L, 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
392 SCOTS WORTHIES.
the then ascendant party, he was far from concealing, but openly
avowed tliem whenever an opportunity of doing so occurred. In
any other individual than Eutherford, probably, such conduct would
not have been tolerated. The high respect, 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 tlie Arminian controversy. Rutherford's sentiments
wxre strictly Calvinistic, and the ability and logical tact with which
he supported his own views, and refuted the arguments of his oppo-
nents, soon established his fame as a powerful controversialist and a
sound divine. The estimation in which he was held in the neigh-
bourhood of Anwoth was truly gratifying ; and as a proof of it, we
may mention that when Mr. Glendinning, minister of Kirkcudbright,
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 situation. This offer, however, he conscientiously
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 entrust Christ's spouse, gold nor
silver, nor favour of men, I hoj^e, shall not loose me.
Though thus unwilling to leave his affectionate fiock, at Anwoth,
his ministry among them was, in the mysterious arrangement 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 char-
acter, was translated to the see of Galloway. No sooner had the
new diocesan entered upon his office, than he proceeded to adopt the
most arbitrary and unpopular measures. He erected a High Com-
mission Court within his diocese, composed exclusively of his own
dependents ; 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 Edin-
burgh, and there accordingly Rutherford was cited to appear, when,
for three days, accusations of the most extravagant nature were pre-
* Thomas Sydserff was in succession bishop of Brechin, Galloway, and Orkney. He
was son of Sycfserff of Ruchlaw, an ancient family of whom one is a subscriber to Rag-
man's Roll in 1296. Sydserft's first appointment, as a clergyman, was to the college
church in Edinburgh, having for his colleague, Henry Rollock, nephew to the Principal ;
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 nomi-
nated to the see of Orkney. He lived little more than a year after his translation. — Mur-
ray's Life of Rutherford.
SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 393
ferred against Li in. With the undaunted fortitude of conscious
integrity, he replied to their charges ; but although the strongest
influence 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 alloted him between the passing of the sen-
tence and the commencement 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 theology in the college of Edinburgh. On entering the
town which was appointed to be the place of his imprisonment,
Eutherford was accompanied by a deputation of his people from
Anwoth, who had travelled many miles to testify their sincere regard
for their devoted pastor, who was now about to enjoy the exalted
privilege of being " the Lord's prisoner." " In the world ye shall
have tribulation, but in me ye shall have peace."
At this period, Aberdeen was the strong-hold of episcopacy and
Arminianism. The most influential men, both clerical and lay, were
violently opposed to Presbytery ; and in these circumstances, Ruth-
erford could not be expected to feel much comfort or happiness in
their society. Gradually, however, the inhabitants began to take an
interest in him as a persecuted servant of God. Such, at length,
was the attention and kindness shown him by many respectable citi-
zens of the place, that he was permitted to conduct religious services
in their families. Intelligence of this fact soon reached the ears of
the professors of the University and the ministers of the city, who
thought it necessary to take steps for the diminution, if possible, of
his influence. For this purpose, they denounced, from the pulpit,
presbyterian principles, and challenged Rutherford to engage with
them in public disputations. But all was unavailing ; he became
more popular and influential than ever, and his opinions spread
among the people to an extent which, to his enemies, was quite
alarming. In this dilemma, application was made to the legislature
to have him either confined more strictly, or sent farther north than
Aberdeen, or banished from the kingdom altogether.* The last
expedient was adopted by the king, who despatched a warrant to
Scotland for the banishment of Rutherford. With the greatest calm-
* 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 my silence, sorrow,
sorrow, hath filled me : my harp is hanged up on the willow-trees, because I am in a
strange land."— jlfwrmj/'s Life of Rutherjord.
394: SCOTS WORTHIES.
iiess and composure lie 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 warrant from being
ever carried into execution.
While imprisoned in Aberdeen, Rutherford 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
Arminian, was violently opposed by the people. They still regarded
their former pastor as having been unjustly w^ith drawn from them,
and they longed and prayed, therefore, for his return. This happy
event, in the course of afiairs, was at last accomplished.
It was dming the struggle which presbyterians 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 necessary on
former occasions of trouble in the Church, it was now deemed suit-
able by the presbyterians in difierent parts of the country to renew
the National Covenant ; and w^hile this solemn ceremony w^as carry-
ing forward at Glasgow^, Rutherford preached in the High Church of
that city, having been requested by the inhabitants to preside, pre-
paratory to their subscribing that instrument.
In the General Assembly which was convened at Glasgow on the
2l8t. November, 1638, Rutherford, along with others .who had in-
curred the censures of the High Commission Court, were called upon
to explain the grounds on which they had been accused ; and, after
due deliberation, a decision was passed in favour of the persecuted
ministers, and they were recognized as members of court. At this
Assembly, one of the most memorable in the annals of the Scottish
Church, prelacy was abolished, and the presbyterian constitution,
even in its minutest details, fully re-established. The bishops were
deprived of their powxr, and the greater number of them were ex
communicated. In all the proceedings 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 applica-
tion was made by the city of Edinburgh to the Assembly's Commis-
sion, to have Rutherford transferred from Anwoth to the metropolis,
that he might have the opportunity of exercising his talents in a
more important and extensive sphere. Another application, how-
ever, was made to have him appointed professor of divinity in the
new college, St. Andrew's. The Commission preferred the latter
situation. Petitions against his removal were presented from the
county of Gallow^ay, and from the parishioners of Anwoth, and he
himself urged, in a respectful petition, his " bodily weakness and
mental incapacity." All was unavailing ; the interests of the church
♦ At what particular date Rutherford left Aberdeen, 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 banishment, August, 1636, at a period when the episcopal interest was
nearly annihilated. — Ibid.
t
i
SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 395
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 meeting, 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 removal from
his beloved people. The office which Kutherford 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 connected
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 deprived of the privilege of publicly proclaiming
the gospel of Christ. On his earnest application, therefore, to the
Assembly, they yielded to his wishes on this point, and appointed
him colleague to Mr. Robert Blair, who had been recently translated
from Ayr, to be one of the ministers of the town of St. Andrew's.
A few months subsequent to his translation to St. Andrew's,
Eutherford entered a second time into the marriage relation, after a
widowhood of nearly ten years. Having thus made provision for
his domestic comfort, he continued to discharge his public duties,
both in teaching and preaching, with unwearied assiduity and con-
scientiousness. For some time his situation was one of peculiar
happiness and tranquillity ; and it would have continued so, had not
both he and his colleague felt themselves called upon to join their
brethren in resisting the wishes of their people, who were exceedingly
desirous that Mr. Andrew Affleck, the minister of Largo, should be
chosen one of the ministers of St. Andrew's. The people, being dis-
appointed of their object, began to cool in their attachment both to
Eutherford and Blair, who, feeling that their usefulness would be
injured by this alienation of the affections of their flock, applied to
the Assembly for an act of transportibility, 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
Eutherford was invited to become minister of West Calder, in the
presbytery of Linlithgow. 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. Andrew's, the matter was pro-
secuted no further, and he still remained both in his professorship
and ministerial charge.
In the public concerns of the church and the country Eutherford
was deeply interested. Himself a conscientious admirer of Presby-
tery, he rejoiced in the complete establishment of the system in
Scotland, and the increasing attachment to it which was manifested
in England. To his principles 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 Assem-
bly 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 discus-
sions he and his fellow-commissioners took an ample share ; and the
result of their important deliberations was both gratifying to himself
396 SCOTS WORTHIES.
personally, and satisfactory to those over whose interests he had
been deputed to watch. In drawing up the Directory for Public
Worshij^, the Confession of Faith, the Larger and Shorter Catechisms,
and the Form of Church Government, Eutherford was actively em-
ployed 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 pre-
paration of various controversial as well as practical works, of a
theological kind, which he published during that period. The only
publication, not strictly in accordance with his profession as a divine,
which he produced on this occasion, was one entitled " 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. Andrew's, and the more so as his own declining health,
as well as that of his wife, seemed to call for a removal to his native
country. His distress, besides, had been still farther aggravated by
the death of two of his children, in addition to two which he had
lost a short time before leaving Scotland. In these circumstances he
had made frequent applications to be released from his attendance in
London. But, for a considerable time, it was not deemed expedient .
to comply with his request, — his presence at the "Westminster Assem-
bly being regarded as too important to be dispensed with,
length, however, the Assembly of 1647 permitted him to reti
home.
The able and efficient manner in which Rutherford discharged th«
high trust reposed in him, as one of the Commissioners to the Synod"
of Divines at Westminster, raised him higher than ever in the esti-
mation of his countrymen ; and accordingly, a few months after he
had resumed his duties at St. Andrew's, he was appointed principal
of the New College. The honour thus conferred on him brought
him very little, if any, additional labour ; it was a gratifying proof j
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 procure his transference to the Divinity Chair
at Edinburgh ; but this intention, as Baillie states, being " thought ab-
sui'd," was laid aside. About the same time a university having been
established at Harderwyck, in Holland, he was invited to occupy the
chair of Divinity and Hebrew in that seminary. This invitation, as
well as a similar application shortly after from Utrecht, he respect-
fully declined, — being unwilling to abandon the Church of Scotland,
at a period when his services were so much required.
In prosecuting his laborious engagements at St. Andrew's, he still
found time to publish several important works. The year after his
return from London he produced a controversial work against the
Antinomians, and in the year following, a Treatise in reply to Jeremy
Taylor's " Liberty of Prophesying." In 1651, appeared his large
work " On Providence," in opposition to the Jesuits, the Arminians,
and the Sbcinians.
At this period, in consequence of the death of Charles I., who
though he had been obliged to make concessions, was still at heart
SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 397
the inveterate enemy of Presbytery, considerable fears were enter-
tained by the Scottish people, that under the government of his son,
who, it was thought, would succeed him, their ecclesiastical privi-
leges might be again abridged. Charles 11. was crowned at Scone ;
and in passing through Fifeshire, before his coronation, the young
king visited St. Andrew's, 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 ascendency,
and England had become a republic. The events which followed
during the usurpation of Cromwell, and onward to the Restoration,
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 conspicuous 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 presbytery of St.
Andrew's and the Synod of Fife, as actuated too strongly by party-
spirit.
Amid all the commotions, however, in which he found himself
involved, he published 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 publication, appeared in
1659, under the title of " Influences of the Life of Grace." With this
piece of practical theology terminated the literary labours of a most
erudite divine and accomplished scholar.
Though the life of Rutherford was now verging to its close, he
lived long enough to see the commencement of one of the darkest
jjeriods 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 accom-
plishing, and that too in a quarter where it might have been least of
all expected. The Scottish parliament, which convened on the 1st
of January, 1661, invested the king with arbitrary power, recalled
the Covenant, and abolished Presbytery; and by one deed, " the
Act Rescissory," as it was termed, they annulled the decrees of all
the parliaments which since 1638 had sanctioned the presbyterian
system, or ratified the Solemn League and Covenant.
In such a state of things Rutherford could not expect to escape
persecution in one shape or other. His work which he had pub-
lished when in London, called " Lex, Rex," was ordered to be
burnt by the hands of the common hangman ; he 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 charge of
treason. Thus far they were permitted to harass this eminent ser-
vant of God ; but their power could extend no further. His health,
which had been rapidly declining, was now such, that he was quite
incapable of obeying the citation to appear before the Parliament.
Knowing well that death could not be far distant, he proceeded to
arrange all his aifairs, that he might leave nothing undone which his
friends or the Church expected from him. In his last sickness he
C98 SCOTS WORTfflES.
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.*
ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL, MARQUIS OF ARGYLE.
From his early years this illustrious nobleman was warmly attached
to the presbyterian interest, and, during the whole of a laborious and
useful life spent in the service of both church and state, he adhered
firmly to his principles, until by the tyranny and treachery of
Charles I., he was honoured 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, commonly called the Second
Reformation, begin to dawn, in 1637, than Argyle, though a 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 distinguish
himself by a concern for the Redeemer'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 Assembly, Mr. Henderson, the
* On the 28th of April, 1842, the foundation-stone of a colossal monument, called the
" Rutherford Monument," was laid to the memory of this excellent man. It is erected on
the farm of Boreland, 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 monument is ol
granite ; height, from the surface to the apex. 60 feet; square of the pedestal, 7 feet, with
three rows of steps.
MARQUIS OF ARGYLE.
Moderator, observed, that the Assembly felt themselves highly
honoured by the countenance that had been given to their delibera-
tions by the noble lord, regretting that his lordship had not joined
them sooner ; but expressing 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 affection 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
redress of grievances. Seeing, however, that this could no longer be
done without proving imfaithful 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 defence, and march toward the borders of England, under
General Leslie, Argyle, being sent to guard the Western coast,
contributed 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 main-
tained, 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 same command, which he conducted no less
successfully ; taking prisoners eight or nine of the ringleaders of the
malignant faction, whom he obliged to give bond for their better
behaviour, for time to come. By these proceedings Argyle provoked
the malice both of his own and the church's enemies, who from that
time sought every opportunity to do him injury ; and it was not long
until the earl of Montrose took occasion to do so. Upon a certain
occurrence, he publicly gave out that Argyle — when in company
with the earl of Athol, and the other eight gentlemen who had been,
made prisoners by him the year before, for carrying arms against
their country — had said before them all : — " That the parliament had
consulted lawyers anent deposing the king, and had received for
answer, that tliat might be done for three reasons ; viz., desertion /
invasion / and 'rendition ; and that they once thought to have done
it last session ; but would certainly 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 sentence that
would have followed upon his conviction, Stuart wrote to the earl,
acquitting him of the charge, and acknowledging that he had
fabricated the whole out of malice. Although Argyle's innocence
was thus established, the court, nevertheless, thought it proper to
proceed with the trial ; and, the fact having been clearly proved
400 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 Cliarles, having quarrelled with his English
parliament, revisited Scotland. To ingratiate himself anew with the
nation, he attended the Scots parliament, and not only ratified 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. Argjle was made first lord of the treasury ; and,
after acknowledging his great public services, the king, on the 15th
November, 1641, delivered a patent to the lord Lyon King at Arms,
who read it aloud, proclaiming his lordship " Marquis of Argyle,
Earl of Kintyre, Lord Lorn," tfec, which, having been finished, it
was handed back to the king. Charles then with his own hands
delivered it to Argyle, and was the first to salute him by his new
title of Marquis. iSTot deficient in court etiquette, Argyle, in a very
handsome speech, thanked his majesty for the honour he had
conferred upon him, and assured his sovereign that he had raised
him to a rank which he neither expected nor merited.
While parliament was still sitting, another plot, of a more deadly
nature, was laid against the marquises of Hamilton and Argyle by
a few of the nobility, who felt themselves piqued at the power,
preferment, and influence, which these noblemen now had with the
king. The chief actors in the conspiracy were the earl of Crawford,
colonel Cochran, and lieutenant Alexander Stuart — nay it was
insinuated that Charles himself was an accessory before the fact —
and the agreement was that Hamilton and Argyle should be called
for in the dead of the night to speak with the king. By the way
they were to be arrested as traitors and handed over to earl
Crawford, who was to be in waiting with a sufiicient body of men :
and it had been further concerted, that if any resistance was offered,
the earl was to stab them at once ; but if not, they were to be
conveyed prisoners of war to a vessel in Leith Eoads, where they
were to be confined until they could be conveniently tried for
treason. The plot, however, having 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 forwarding the work of reformation ; but while he was
thus occupied, Montrose and some others of the royal party, having
associated for the purpose of raising troops for the king, thought
thereby to divert Argyle's attention from the good work. Their in-
tention was to oblige him to withdraw the Scottish forces from Eng-
land, 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,
MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. 401
therefore, the Committee of Estates ordered the marquis to raise
three regiments of foot, and march northward without delay, w^hich
he very soon effected, taking a number of their principal chiefs prison-
ers, and dispersing the rest. Montrose, however, was still on the
field, plundering and laying waste all over Argyleshire, and other
places belonging to the Covenanters ; and, although he was finally
defeated by general Leslie, at Philiphaugh, yet M'Donald and his
Irish barbarians returned in 1646, and burned and plundered the
dwellings of the well-affected, to such an extent, that about 1200 of
the ejected and houseless inhabitants assembled in a body under
Acknalase, who brought them down to Monteith to live upon the
disaffected in that part of the country. On their way thither, how-
ever, the men of Athol attacked them at Callender ; and, being but
poorly armed, a considerable 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 dis-
affected, 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 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 ma-
lignants were headed by the marquis of Hamilton, and the Cove-
nanters were under the direction of Argyle. It may therefore be
with safety concluded, that from the year 1643, the marquis was
actively employed in promoting the civil and religious liberties of
his country ; and it is wqU known from what took place in 1649, —
from the influence he had acquired in parliament, and from the suc-
cessful measures he had used in restoring Charles II. to his throne
and regal authority, that the affairs of the nation went on pretty
smoothly, so long as the king continued to act upon his advice, l^o
sooner, however, did the weak monarch transfer his favours to the
opposite party, and install their nobles into places of power and
trust, than the country became again one vast scene of confusion
and bloodshed, which preyed 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 in-
dulged ever after the marquis had the Christian magnanimity to
reprove him for his immoralities.
This masterpiece of duplicity appears to have been written from
St. Johnston (Perth), September 24th, 1650, and is as follows : —
'' Having taken into my consideration the faithful endeavours of the
marquis 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 promise to hearken to his counsel,
whenever it shall please God to restore me to my just rights in Eng-
26
4D2 SCOTS WORTHIES.
land. 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 kin<j'."
" C. E."
Charles was crowned at Scone on the 1st January, 1651, and the
crown was placed on his head by the marquis. After prayer by
Mr. Douglas, he was installed into the royal throne by the marquis
also. For a time, too, the Usurper's forces were victorious in
several engagements, andihe 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 Stir-
ling. On the 3d of September following, his army having been
completely routed at AVorcester, the English overran the whole
country ; and the national representatives were forced either to suc-
cumb to Cromwell, or run the risk of enduring severe hardships.
This submission Argyle had refused at Dumbarton, and therefore the
Usurper's army marched into ArgyJeshire and other parts of the
Highlands. Whilst Argyle was confined at Inverary by indisposi-
tion, one of Cromwell's officers — major Dean — walked into the room
^nd presented a paper, informing the marquis that if he did not
subscribe the same before the following day, he would be carried off
prisoner. For several reasons, but particularly for his own and his
tenants' safety, Argyle most reluctantly adhibited his signature.
From the date of this circumstance may be traced the commence-
ment 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 himself 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 apprehended
and conveyed to the Tower, where he was detained till the month of
December, and then sent down to Scotland, in a ship of war, to abide
his trial before parliament. On the 20th, 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 indictment contained fourteen counts ; the princi-
pal of which were : — *' his entering into the Solemn League and
Covenant with England ; and his submission to Oliver 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, con-
sistently with his solemn oath and covenant, served his God, his
MARQUIS OF ARGYLE. 403
xing, and his country ; and that not one of the accusations brought
against him could be proved. It was to no purpose 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, however, it was
deferred until the 5th of March. On that day he delivered a most
affecting speech before the lords of articles, and gave in a petition,
recommending himself to the king's mercy, and entreating the par-
liament to intercede for him.
He was again brought before the parliament 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 treason, 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 waiting 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 practice, —
" 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, conversing plea-
santly with several ministers who were permitted to visit him. The
night before his execution he slept calmly ; and on Monday morning,
though much engaged in settling his affairs in the midst of company,
he had at intervals much spiritual conversation, and was so over-
powered by a sensible effusion of the Holy Spirit, that on one
occasion he broke out into a rapturous exclamation : — " I thought to
404: SCOTS WORTfflES.
liave 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 to me, — ' Son, be of good cheer, thy
sins are forgiven thee.' "
Before going to the place of execution, he dined precisely at noon
with a number of his friends, displaying great cheerfulness ; after
which he retired for a little. Upon his return, he said the Lord had
again confirmed his promise, and said to him from heaven, — " Thy
sins be forgiven thee !" Every countenance was suffused with tears
but his own ; but being at length overcome, they began to flow very
copiously, when he said to Mr. George Hutcheson, — " I think His
kindness overcomes 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, " They are far wrong," and immediately
kneeled down and prayed before all present, in a very moving and
heavenly strain. Scarcely had he finished, when the bailies sent for
him. Calling for a glass of wine before he went, he continued
standing in the same frame of mind, and having asked a blessing
upon it, he said, •' 'Now let us go, and God be with us !" Having
taken leave of all who were not to accompany him, he said when
going, — " I could die like a E-oman, but choose rather to die like a
Christian !" As he went down stairs, he called Mr. Guthrie to him,
and, after embracing him most tenderly, bade him farewell. " Mj
Lord," said Mr. Guthrie, " God hath been with you of a truth ; He is
with you, and will be with you. Such is my respect for your
lordship, that if I were not under sentence of death myself, I would
cheerfully die for your lordship !" Thus parted these two martyrs
on earth, to meet in heaven on the Friday following.
Argyle ascended the scaffold with an air of perfect serenity, and
saluted all who were present. Mr. Hutcheson prayed, after which
the Marquis addressed the spectators. When he had finished, Mr.
Hamilton prayed, followed by Argyle himself; after which he
l^repared for the closing scene. To the executioner, he gave a napkin
containing some money ; to his sons-in-law, Caithness and Ker, his
watch and some other things; to the earl of Loudon his silver
pencase; aud to Lothian a double ducat, and then threw off his coat.
When going to the " Maiden,"* Mr. Hutcheson desired him to hold
his "grip sicker," to which he replied, "I am not afraid to be
surprised with fear !" The laird of Skelmorlie took hold of his hand,
and found it perfectly steady. Then kneeling down with a sweet
and solemn composure, after having prayed for a few moments, he
• The Maiden, the instrument used at the execution 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," 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 Pennecuik 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."
JAMES GUTHRIE. 405
gave the signal by lifting up one of his hands, and the Maiden
instantly severed his head from his body. His head was afterwards
fixed on the west end of the tolbooth, as a monument of the parlia-
ment's injustice, the king's infidelity, and Scotland's misery. The
body was afterwards deposited in the family vault at Kilmuii.
Thus died the marquis of Argyle, the first martyr to presbyterian-
ism since the reformation from popery. All his biographers agree
that he was a man of extraordinary piety, remarkable wisdom and
prudence, and singular usefulness. In the great work of the Eefor-
mation he was the prime agent ; and when a large portion of the na-
tion yielded to the emergency, he stood almost alone, and never
deserted the cause until he moistened with his blood the tree w^hich
his own hands had planted. In a word, says a learned writer, " He
had i)iety 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, be denominated a true Scottish Presbyterian.
JAMES GUTHRIE.
The name of this revered martyr will be held dear by Scottish pres-
byterians 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. Andrew's, where, by an
unprecedented placidity of temper, he attracted the admiration 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 Pres-
bytery, until, by his associating with Mr. Samuel Putherford and
others, and taking part in their weekly meetings for prayer and con-
ference, he was so effectually weaned from his early predilections, as
to be looked upon as a star of the first magnitude in the presbyterian
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 attend king Charles at N'ewcastle ; and
also, during the intervals betwixt the General Assemblies, he was
nominated in the commission to watch over the public afiairs of the
church. About three years after, he was removed to Stirling, where
406 SCOTS WORTHIES.
he continued till the Eestoration, a faithful watchman upon Zion'8
walls, — " showing Israel their iniquities, and the house of Jacob
their sins."
When the unhappy differences broke out between the resolutioners
and protesters, he warmly espoused the cause of the latter ; and,
aided by his colleague, Mr. Bennet, preached openly against the
abetters of the " Articles of Perth," as involving the land in con-
junction 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 Com-
mittee of Estates, — one of them, however, being indisposed, it was
put off till the 22d, when both appeared, and lodged a protest, — bear-
ing, 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 competent judges ; and therefore he declined their
jurisdiction, and apj^ealed to the church. In consequence of the
king's absence, 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 him-
self for protection. But his last defence lay in the Committee of
Estates. The king had written to the protesters to lay down their
arms, and the Committee had offered indemnity to all who would
submit to his authority, while at the same time the Commission of
Assembly were not wanting in energetic measures against those who
had thus the hardihood to disturb the public peace. Guthrie, con-
ceiving Middleton to have laid himself open to the highest ecclesias-
tical censure, is said to have proposed summary excommunication,
and to have been supported by a majority of the Commission, as a
solatium due to the church at such a critical juncture, when nothing
but firm adherence to tlie principles of Presbytery could maintain
her independence. He himself, therefore, was nominated as the fit-
test 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 released Middleton from the censure ; but he never for-
gave Guthrie.
About this time he wrote several papers in favour of the protest-
ers, for which and his former fidelity he was one of the three who
were deposed by the pretended Assembly at St. Andrew's, in 165T.
Such, indeed, had been the malice of the resolutioners, that they
actually stoned him u^n 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 pro-
JAMES GUTHRIE. 407
cured an equal hearing between the resohitioners 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 Inde-
pendents.
Not long after the Kestoration, while Guthrie and a few of the
faithful brethren who had met at Edinburgh were drawing up a peti-
tion to his majesty, they were all apprehended, and imprisoned in
Edinburgh castle, with the exception of one who made his escape.
Guthrie, however, was not suffered to remain there ; but was
conveyed to the castle of Stirling, where he was kept in close
confinement until a short time 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 the copy of an indictment wdiich 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 contriving, writing, and pub-
lishing, that abominable 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 presented by him to that effect at Perth. 6. Some trea-
sonable expressions he was alleged 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 suf-
fering ; after which he was ordered to remove.
Before retiring, however, he requested to be allowed a short time
for consulting with his counsel, which was granted ; and the 26th of
the same month was appointed for entering upon his defence. It is
said that in drawing up this document 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 affecting speech,
which he concluded with the following moving appeal : — " My lords,
in the last place, I humbly beg that — having brought so clear evi-
dence 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, myself 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 con-
clude with the words of the prophet Jeremiah, — ' Behold, I am in
your hands, do to me what seemeth good to you : I know, for certain,
that the Lord hath commanded me to speak all these things ; and
that if you put me to death, you shall bring innocent blood upon your-
selves, and upon the inhabitants of this city.' — My conscience I
408 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 execu-
tion of me, or many others, that will extinguish the covenant and
work of reformation since the year 1638, — my blood, bondage, or
banishment, will contribute more for the propagation of these things,
than my life or liberty could do, though 1 should live many years."
Although this speech had not the effect that might have been ex-
pected, it nevertheless made such a powerful impression upon not a
lew 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 execution was not named
till the 8th of May, when the parliament ordered him and William
Gowan 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. Go van's head was to be placed upon
the West Port. After he had received his sentence, he accosted the
parliament 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 com-
posure and serenity of mind, and wrote a great many letters to his
friends and acquaintances. His farewell letter to his wife, being
written with the most dignified submission, and breathing the most
ardent affection and cheerful resignation, we give entire :
" My heart, — Being within a few hours to lay down my life for
the testimony of Jesus Christ, I do send these few lines as the last
obedience of unfeigned and spotless affection which I bear unto you,
not only as one flesh, but as a member with me of that blessed mys-
tical body of the Lord ; for I trust you are, and that God, who hath
be^un his good work in you, will also perfect it, and bring it to an
enu, and give you life and salvation. Whatever may be your infir-
mities and weakness, yet the grace of God shall be sufficient for you,
and his strength shall be perfected in 3^our 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 right hand and upon the left, you were never a tempter of
me to dissent away from the living God, and from the way of my
duty, to comply with an evil cause, or to hearken to the counsels of
flesh and bloocl, for avoiding the cross, and for gaining the profit and
Ereferment of a present world. You have wrought much with your
ands for furnishing bread for me and my children, and were always
willing that I should show hospitality, especially to those that bore
the image of God. These things I mention, not to puff you up, but
JAMES GUTHRIE. 409
to encourage yon under your present affliction and distress, being
persuaded that God will have regard to you and to the children of
my body, whom I leave to your care, that they may be brought up
in the knowledge of the Lord. Let not your wants and weaknesses
discourage you ; there are power, riches, and abundance with God,
both as to the things of the body and those of the soul ; and he will
supply all your wants, and carry you through. It is like to be a
very trying time ; but cleave you to God, and keep his way, without
casting off your confidence. Fear not to be drowned in the depths
of the troubles that may attend this land, God will hide you under
his shadow, and keep you in the hollow of his hand. Be sober and
of a meek spirit ; strive not against Providence ; but be subject to
him w^ho is the Father of spirits. Decline not the cross, but em-
brace it as your own ; love all that love the Lord, and delight in
their fellowship. Give yourself to prayer, and be diligent in read-
ing the holy scriptures. "Wait on the ordinances, and hold them in
freat esteem as the appointed means of God, for your salvation,
oin together the exercise of piety and repentance, and manifest
your faith in the fruits of sincere obedience and of a gospel conver-
sation. Yalue your conscience above your skin. Be not solicitous,
although you know not wherewith to clothe you and your children,
or wherewith to dine ; God's 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 I hope I shall be helped to the end. Pray
for me, while I am here, and praise with me hereafter. God be with
you ! I am yours.
Edinburgh Tolbooth, ] ;; j Guthrie "
June 1st, 1661. f *^^^^ Guthrie.
On the same day, it having been reported that he was to purchase
his life by retracting something he had formerly said and done, he
wrote and subscribed the following declaration : —
" These are to declare, that I do own the ' Causes of God's "Wrath,'
the ' Supplication at Edinburgh,' last August, and the accession I
had to the ' 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 Edinburgh, about eleven o'clock, forenoon,
before these witnesses :
Arthuk Fokbes, John Guthrie.
Hugh "Walker, James Cowie.
(Signed) James Guthrie."
Having settled all his worldly concerns, he dined with his friends
with great cheerfulness, 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
410 SCOTS WORTHIES
perfect composure and fortitude, 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, lie spoke about an hour
to the multitude with the same composure as if he had been deliver-
ing an ordinary discourse, concluding with the words of Simeon of
old, " 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
lie was then only a child. Immediately before being turned over,
he raised the napkin from his eyes, and cried aloud, — " The Cove-
nants, the Covenants, shall yet be Scotland's reviving !"
In a few weeks after his execution, as Middleton's coach was com-
ing down the Netherbow Port, several drops of blood fell upon it
from the martyr's head, which all the art of man could not wash
out. It was therefore found necessary to substitute a new cover.
Guthrie was the first minister who suffered 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
singularly zealous and faithful in carrying on the work of reforma-
tion, in which he conducted himself with the most unswerving
fidelity, under all changes and revolutions. His assiduity in promot-
ing 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, neces-
sary 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 Considera-
tions anent the Decay of Keligon, were first published by himself,
in 1660 ; and an authentic paper written and subscribed by himself
upon the occasion of his being stoned by the resolution party, in
1656, for his accession to the call of Mr. Robert Rule to be his col-
league, after the death of Mr. Bsiinefc. He also wrote a treatise on
Ruling Elders and Deacons, affixed to the last edition of his cousin
Mr. W illiam Guthrie's " Trial of a Saving Interest in Christ."
* 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 assumed powers of government and discipline, it unwarrantably 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.
WILLIAM GOVAN. 4,11
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 w^hen Charles I. was beheaded ; but this he
satisfactorily disproved 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 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 w^as by
him alone he had been justified." Being desired to look up to Christ,
he answered, — "He looketh down and smileth upon m^." After
which, having ascended the ladder, he said, — " Dear friends, pledge
tins cup of suffering as I have done, before you sin ; for sin and suf-
fering 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 commissioner ;
yet for a thousand w^orlds 1 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 adhe-
rent to the presbyterian cause. His head was afterwards placed
above the West Port, in the city of Edinburgh.
4,12 SCOTS WORTHIES.
JOHN CAMPBELL, EARL OF LOUDON,
This distinguished nobleman was heir to Sir James Campbell of
Lawers, and husband of Margaret, countess of Loudon. At the coro-
nation of Charles I., he was raised to the peerage, under the title of
the 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
Assembly met at Glasgow^, in November, 1638, he gave regular at-
tendance, 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 commis-
sioner, and some of the members, regarding the election of an Assem-
bly clerk, Loudon, in name of the commissioners to the Assembly,
gave in reasons of a very high and independent strain, why the lord-
commisssioner 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, promising to answer them ; but the
reply never made its appearance. About the same time, too, he told
the king's commissioner ; — " That he knew of no other bond betwixt
a king and his subjects, than religion 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 Presbytery was almost restored, and
prelacy well nigh abolished, the king, with the advice of his bishops,
immediately put himself at the head of an army, in order to reduce
the Scots. Ihey, however, having heard of his hostile intentions,
were not a whit behind. Both armies marched towards the border ;
but, upon the approach of the Scots, the English became intimidated,
and a truce was agreed upon. Commissioners having been appointed
to treat on both sides, the Scottish army deputed Lord Loudon, who,
on his knees, informed the king, " That their demand was only to
enjoy their religion and liberties, according to the ecclesiastical and
civil laws of the kingdom." To this Charles replied : — " That if that
was all they desired, peace would soon be made ;" — promising at the
same time " that all ecclesiastical matters be decided by an Assem-
bly ; 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
EARL OF LOUDON. 413
an Act of oblivion, to that effect." These preliminaries were sub-
t^cribed by the commissioners on both 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 instiga-
tion of the bishops, the king soon after caused the articles of peace to
be burnt by the hangman, charging the Scots, at the same time, with
\'iolating the terms of agreement, although Loudon satisfactorily
proved the contrary. Charles was far from being pleased at the free-
dom of speech which Loudon had used ; but he was permitted to
return home for the time.
In the meantime the General Assembly met at Edinburgh, on the
12th of August, and Mr. David Dickson was chosen moderator.
Among other matters Henderson and Ramsay moved, that episcopacy
was of human origin, and altogether an institution 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
subscribing of the National Covenant, and observed that, — Episco-
pacy, having no warrant in the word of God, and Presbytery having
that warrant, had been accordingly sworn in the National Covenant.
The parliament met on the same day on which the Assembly was
prorogued ; but entering upon business to which the king was alto-
gether averse, Traquair managed matters so as to put a stop to all
their proceedings. In this unpleasant state of affairs, Dunfermline and
Loudon were sent to implore his majesty to allow them to proceed ;
but before 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
commissioner.
In the mean time the king prorogued the parliament till the second
of June, 1640 ; and in that state the affairs of tlie nation lay over
until January, 1641, when the parliamentary committee, having ob-
tained leave to send up deputies to represent their grievances, pitched
upon Dunfermline 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, how-
ever, this honour was granted them, when Loudon took occasion to
inform the king, that his ancient and native kingdom was indepen-
dent of any other judicatory, and solicited his majesty's protection in
defence of religion, liberty, and the cause of the church. Concern-
ing those who had misrepresented the Scots to Charles, his lordship
said : — " If it please God for our sins to make our condition so de-
plorable as that our enemies may get the shadow of your majesty's
authority to palliate 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,
414: SCOTS WORTHIES.
and Xing of kings, by whom kings reign and princes decree justice.
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,
— 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 different and distinct from
parliament and civil judicatories ; yet there is so strict and necessary
a conjunction betwixt ecclesiastic and civil jurisdiction, betwixt reli-
gion 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 : — " Tiiat your majesty may
be graciously pleased to command that the parliament proceed freely
to determine upon the articles given in to them ; and, whatsoever
exceptions, objections, 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, return our answers and humble
desires."*
The Scots commissioners having appeared on the 11th of March,
and produced their instructions, a good deal of conversation followed
between the king and them ; in course of which, archbishop Laud,
who sat to the right of his majesty, was observed to treat them con-
temptuously, by instigating the king to tease them with questions
altogether foreign from the nature of their commission. Upon this
occasion, 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 arguments which he found impossible to
overturn. Kecourse was therefore had to the strong arm of des]3otic
law, and the whole of the commissioners were taken into custody.
The earl of Loudon was sent to the Tower for a letter alleged to have
been written by him, and sent by the Scots to the French king, of
the following tenor : —
"Sire,
" Your majesty being the refuge and sanctuary of afflicted
princes and states, we have found it necessary to send this gentleman,
Mr. Colville, to represent to your majesty the candour and 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
♦ History of the Stuarts, vol L
EARL OF LOUDON. 4I5
showed to the nation, which will not yield the glory of any other
whatsoever, to be eternally,"
Sire,
" Your majesty's most humble, most obedient, and
most affectionate servant."
For information upon this important point, we are indebted to the
author of " History of the Stuarts," who maintains that the letter
was composed by Montrose, when the king was marching with a
powerful army against Scotland ; and that it was copied by Loudon,
and subscribed by himself, Montrose, Eothes, Marr, Montgomery,
Forrester, and General Leslie ; but that it never was sent. The copy
was without date, and without address ; and having been judged in-
elegant 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 acknowledged the manuscript and signature to
be his own ; but stated at the same time, in defence, that all this had
been done when his majesty was marching with a hostile army
against his native country ; and that, in these circumstances, they
could think of one better qualified to act as their intercessor, and to
whom the king would be more disposed to listen, than the French
king, — being his majesty's own near relation : but that having been
judged too late, the letter had never been so much as addressed, and
therefore had not been sent, as both that and the want of a date
would testify.
All was of no avail, and the earl was remanded to prison. Charles
was determined that his life should be sacrificed, and that, too, in the
most cowardly manner, without trial or conviction, and, by the hand
of an assassin. Burnet, in his " Memoirs of the Duke of Hamilton,"
acknowledges that the king was advised to proceed capitally against
Loudon ; but Rusworth, an English historian, affirms that about three
o'clock in the afternoon, the king sent his own letter to William
Balfour, lieutenant of th6 Tower, commanding him to see the lord
Loudon's head struck off, within the Tower, before nine the next
morning. That his lordship might prepare for death, the lieu-
tenant gave him immediate notice of this command. Confident in
the justice of his cause, the earl received the intimation with aston-
ishing serenity and composure of mind. The lieutenant, at the same
time, informed the marquis of Hamilton.^ and both immediately set
ofi' 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 exclaimed, — " by G — d, it shall be executed I"
The marquis, however, remonstrated with him upon the perfidiousness
of his design, and laid before him the fatal consequences that might en-
sue, by alienating from him the nobility, from whom his own life might
be in danger; and that Scotland, to a man, w^ould 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 unceremoniously. About the 28th of June,
416 SCOTS WORTHIES.
by the good providence of God, the noble lord obtained his liberty,
after having been instructed 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 disposition to give way. A new war, therefore, 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 success.
In all this Loudon acted no inconspicuous part. Through his endea-
vours 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 I^ewburn, and he found himself reduced to the
necessity of appointinoj commissioners to treat with the Scots. The
meeting took place at Kippon, on the 1st of October, 1640, and the
earls of Dunfermline, Eothes, and Loudon, with Messrs. Henderson
and Johnston, were appointed commissioners on the side of the Scots.
After agreeing to a truce for three months, the treaty was transferred
to London. In addition to the former commissioners were now added
Messrs Robert Blair, Robert Baillie, and George Gillespie, three of
the brightest ornaments of the church, as chaplains to the three
noblemen formerly nominated. Great hopes were entertained by
the friends of the church in England, that something would now be
done to restore peace to the suffering presbyterians, and they were
not altogether disappointed.
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 violent 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 behalf 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 un-
precedented liberality, the house declared that he had conducted him-
self 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 towards the king with such candour as he did.
Once more, therefore, he was appointed to go to London with the
newly revised treaty, subscribed by the lord-president and others.
Soon after this, by the king's special will, the noble earl was appointed
chancellor, much against his own inclination, and the solicitation of.
his friends, who would have had him nominated to the office of lord-
treasurer.^ Accordingly, on the 2d October, 1642, his lordship 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 administratione officii. As soon as this
* Faithful discharge of duty.
EABL OF LOUDON. 417
ceremony was over, he was placed in a seat at his majesty's feet, on
the right of the lord-president, from which he immediately rose, and,
falling npon 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
viceregent upon earth, and the fountain of all earthly honour in this
kingdom, and I will endeavour to answer the expectation your majesty
looks for, and to deserve the good will of this honourable house, in
faithfully discharging what you both, without any merit on my part,
have imposed upon me." — How altered the scene ! — Only a few short
months previous he had received 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 un-
remitting in his endeavours to establish that happy uniformity in
doctrine, discipline and church government, which then took place ;
and, in the following year, he accosted the king in the following
terms : — " The difference between your majesty and the 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 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 proposals 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 Middle-
ton, when at a communion on Mauchline moor, with a handful of
Covenanters, after these gentlemen had given him their promise to
the contrary.
A new scene of affairs began to appear in 1650, and darker days
than ever seemed to await the suffering church. Charles I. had been
put to death — the Scots had recalled his son Charles II. — the ma-
lignants had got into place and power — and, under all these circum-
stances, Loudon felt it necessary to resign his oflSces, being unable to
breathe in such a pestilential atmosphere. He had presided in parlia-
27
418 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ment for nearly ten years, and, under God, had been instrumental in
establishing, both in church and state, the purest reformation that had
been ever wrought in any country under the New Testament dispen- '
sation. How he had been emploj^ed during Cromwell's usurpation
we are not accurately informed ; but it is probable, that like most of
the gentlemen of the day, he lived in a state of comparative seclusion.
No sooner was the king restored to his paternal dominions, than
pei'secution of the most violent nature began to rage ; and it is
therefore impossible to express the grief which this godly nobleman
experienced, when he beheld not only the carved work of the sanc-
tuary broken down, which he had had such an eminent hand in
directing and building up ; but when he found himself at the mercy
of his sovereign for the part he had taken. He was well aware that
next to the marquis of Argyle, he was the butt of the enemy's
malice ; for he had repeatedly applied for his majesty's good graces,
and had been as often refused. Life began now to be a burden to
him, and he longed to depart. He often exhorted his excellent lady
to pray fast, that he might not see the next session of parliament, else
he might follow his dear friend, the marquis of Argyle, and the Lord
was pleased to grant his request ; for he died at Edinburgh, on the
loth of March, 1652, before the convocation of parliament.
The merits of this excellent nobleman, renowned patriot, and
faithful servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, far exceed human eulogy.
"With the exception of an error into which he was led through the
influence of the earl of Lanark, his reputation was without blemish.
But no sooner was his mistake pointed out to him, than he repented
sincerely, and in the true spirit of Christian contrition subscribed an
admonition to more diligent watchfulness, to which he ever after most
religiously adhered. In the senate he was a consummate orator ; in
political, social, and domestic life, he was a safe pattern of imitation ;
and, as a member 'of the church of Christ, the honour of his divine
Master was his chief aim and end. To the support of our ancient
and admirable constitution, both in church and state, he invariably
applied his excellent endowments, with such unwearied zeal, that he
might not improperly be called the chief advocate, both for the civil
and religious liberties of the people. What 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 inde-
pendent spirit for civil and religious liberty, in that family of which
John, earl of Loudon was such a distinguished ornament.
ROBERT BAILLIE. 419
ROBERT BAILLIE.
The subject of this brief but interesting memoir was a native of
Glasgow. He was born in the year 1599, and was a lineal descend-
ant of the Baillies of Jerviston, 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 stu-
dious, as to have acquired a knowledge of twelve or thirteen lan-
guages, and to have been capable of writing 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 Eglinton. At the commencement of the
Eeformation, in 1637, he laboured under considerable 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 Kippon, and concluded at London. What mental enjoyment he
experienced at that time maybe 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 home-
ward. 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 Westminster 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 testi-
420 ., SCOTS WORTHIES.
raonial of silver plate, with a suitable inscription, in consideration of
his talents and integrity. This testimonial is said to be in posses-
sion of the family ot Carnbroe.
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 Loudon ;
lord Balmerino, lord Warriston, and the chief men among the cove-
nanting party ; by which intercourse he obtained the most accurate
knowledge of all public transactions. Through the interest of lord
Lauderdale he succeeded to the principality of the college of Glas-
gow, upon the death of Mr. Patrick Gillespie ; and, it is said, he
was offered a bishopric about the same time. This, however, he
refused, continuing firm in his adherence to Presbytery till the end
of his life. In the biography prefixed to his Letters, the writer
insinuates that his rejection of the offer arose chiefly from an aver-
sion to differ from those with whom he had formerly lived in habits
of intimacy ; but a few extracts from one of his letters to lord Lau-
derdale, 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 countenance 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 refu-
tation 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 judg-
ment, Baillie may very justly be reckoned one of the great men of
his time ; but, alas ! great and good as he certainly was, he showed
himself not to be altogether capable of resisting the prejudice of
human passion. To some of those worthy men to whom he ascribes
the highest praise for their instrumentality in carrying on the work
DAVID DICKSON. 421
of reformation, betwixt the years 1638 and 1649, he afterwards
imputes the most unworthy motives, when they became remon-
strants ; taking all the divisions and calamities that befell the church,
the state, and the army, to proceed from the protesters not concur-
ring with the party with whom he acted ; whereas, to every reflect-
ing mind it will appear to be exactly the reverse. The last ten
yeai-s of his otherwise excellent history, published under the title of
" Baillie's Letters," must therefore be received with extreme caution.
Bailie was of the party called resolutioners, and is even said to have
composed 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 dictates of the opposite party.
They could not lightly violate their solemnly sworn covenant by
approving of the admission of such characters as Charles II., and his
wicked faction, into the bosom of the church, — in defence of which
covenant many of them faced the gibbet, suffered banishment, and
endured imprisonment with all its attendant horrors ; while it is
well known that several hundreds of the resolutioners afterw^ards
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 WTitings may be
mentioned his Scripture Chronology, written in Latin ; his Canter-
burian 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 Lauden-
sium, an article against Arminianism ; a Reply 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 w^as a feuar of some lands in the barony
of Fintry, called the Kirk of the Moor, in the parish of St. J^inian's.
He is said to have been born about the year 1583. His parents
were several years married before his birth ; and, being ardently
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 resolution, until Providence visited their
4.22 SCOTS WORTfflES.
son with a severe fever, and brought to their remembrance the vow
which they had formerly made. Upon his recovery, therefore, he
was sent to resume his studies at the college of Glasgow.
After taking his degi-ee of Master of Arts, he was appointed to
teach philosophy in the University; at which time he, principal
Boyd of Trochrigg, and Mr. Blair, were singularly felicitous in reviv-
ing piety among the youth, which, from the time that prelacy had
been imposed upon the church, had Mien sadly into decay. In 1618,
Dickson was ordained minister of Irvine, where he laboured with
great fidelity for about twenty-three years.
Upon his fii'st 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 sinfalness.
K'o sooner was archbishop Law informed of this, than he sum-
moned 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 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 com-
manded ; that in all matters which concern the worship of God,
there must be a sufficient scriptural reason for the injunction of
these ; but, if not, a man might lawfully refuse to give obedience ; —
that he found he could not with a safe conscience yield compliance,
and therefore he was ready, by the grace of God, to suffer whatever
flesh and blood could do to him. After submitting with exemplary
patience to a great many scurrilous taunts 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." Spottis-
wood, 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 demand 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
deposition was pronounced against him, and he was ordered to enter
himself in ward, at Tureff, in the north, within twenty days. Dick-
son heard his sentence unmoved, and calmly replied — " The will of
the Lord be done! — though you cast me off, the Lord will take me
up,— send me whither ye will, I hope my Master will go with me ;
and as He has been with me, hitherto, he will be with his own weak
servant still ?"
He continued to preach, nevertheless, till the twenty days were
expired ; after which he began to prepare for his journey. But the
DAVID DICKSON. 423
Earl of Eglinton had prevailed upon the bishop of Glasgow to allow
him to come and preach at Eglinton. In consequence, however, of
the vast crowds that flocked to hear liim 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 employed in preaching the word, his friends prevailed upon
the bishop of Glasgow to restore him to his fiock, 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
require 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 confinement. 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 Eglinton, and the parishioners of Irvine, he was permit-
ted to return and exercise his ministry until the king himself should
challenge him. This took place about the end of July, 1623.
His labours in that parish were singularly blessed, and many, by
his instrumentality, were brought to a knowledge of the truth as it is
in Jesus. Besides his own parishioners, many attended his ministry
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 communions at Irvine, in Dickson's day, were
seasons of great refreshing from the presence of the Lord ; yet, in
the exercise of genuine humility, he remarked, — " that the vintage
of Irvine was not equal to the gleanings of Ayr in Mr. Welch's
time. In addition to his public stated labours on Sabbaths, the
evenings of that day were generally taken up in conversing with
serious persons ; in administerini^ consolation 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 ej)isco-
pacy was very prevalent at that time, serious practical religion flou-
rished 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 bunted down like beasts of prey, by the Irish
bishops.
In 1637, Dickson prevailed upon the presbytery of Irvine to peti-
tion for the suppression of the Service-Book, who, being joined by
424 SCOTS WORTHIES.
other three deputations from different quarters, laid the foundation
of that happy change of affairs which soon afterwards took place ;
and, it is worthy of observation, 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 Sibbald, the result of whose debates is well known. In
the General Assembly, too, at Glasgow, in November, 1638, he
signalized himself very remarkably, by a seasonable and judicious
speech, when his majesty's commissioner threatened to leave the
Assembly ; and also by a most learned discourse against Arminianism
at the eleventh sederunt, on the 15th of December.*
By this time the fame of his ministry, and his singular prudence,
learning, and holy zeal, had spread so much among his brethren,
that he was chosen, almost unanimously, moderator of the next
Assembly, in 1639 ; on the tenth sederunt of which, a call from the
city of Glasgow was presented 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
advisable to continue him in his charge. 'Not long after, however,
he was removed to the divinity chair in that university, where he was
particularly successful in training young men for the church ; and
wliere, for some time, he enjoyed the collegiate assistance of Mr.
Patrick Gillespie, as minister of the High Church.
In 1643, the General Assembly nominated Dickson, Calderwood,
and Henderson, as a triumvirate, to draw out a Directory 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 divines was composed " The Sum of Saving
Knowledge," a small treatise which is generally bound up along with
the Confession of Faith, &c.
About this time he was removed to the theological chair in the
univei-sity of Edinburgh, where he soon after published his " Prselec-
tiones in Confessionem Fidei,"f 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 that 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 Scotland, 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, discharging his duties with great
diligence and fidelity, until the unhappy reintroduction of episcopacy,
♦ See the first in Stevenson's History, p. 562 ; and the last in the Assembly Journal,
t Lectures on the Confession of Faith.
DAVID DICKSON. 425
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 account of the sufferings which he saw
were preparing for the church.
Dickson was now encumbered with the cares of a family. He had
married Margaret 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
December, 1662, w^hen on his death-bed, he was visited by Mr. Living-
stone, 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 indignities 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 earnest-
ness 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 Masters 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, w^hen, instead of giving place to fear for his
personal safety, he, with the greatest self-command, addressed them
regarding 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 conversation, says of him :
— " I happened once to travel from Glasgow to Falkirk, in company
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 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,
promote our true santification of nature and life, and make us triumph
over the accusations of Satan and the fears of death — O how his dis-
course, 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
426 SCOTS WORTHIES.
resemblance to tliose of the celebrated Rutherford. It was said,
that no minister of that day was so popular, except Mr. William
Guthrie, of Fenwick, who at least equalled Dickson, if he did not go
beyond him.
Ilis works are numerous. The chief of these are, A Commentary
on the Epistle to the Hebrews ; on the Gospel of Matthew ; on the
Psalms of David ; on the Epistles, in Latin and English ; Prcelec-
tlones in Confessioiiem Fidei^ or Truth's Victory over Error ; Thera-
peutica Sacra, or Cases of Conscience resolved, in Latin ; and a
Treatise on the Promises, lie wrote also some short poems on pious
subjects, viz.. The Christian Sacrifice, and True Christian Love,
intended as an addition to the Psalmody. Besides these he left
several other works in manuscript: — Tyrones concionaturi j Sum-
marium lihri IsaicB / Letters on the Resolutioners ; Replies to
Messrs. Gillespie and Guthrie ; E"on-separation from the well affected
in the Army ; Sermons at Irvine upon 1 Tim. i. 5 ; Precepts for the
Daily Direction of a Christian, b}^ way of Catechism; with a
Coinpend of his Sermons upon Jeremiah and the Lamentations ; and
the m-st nine chapters to the Romans.
SIR ARCHIBALD JOflNSTOiN, LORD ¥ARRISTON.
CoMPAEATTVELY little is kuowu of the early history of very many
of our most distinguished 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 Reforma-
tion, in 1638, when he and lord Balmerino were commissioned by
the Covenanters, to present to the king a petition which they them-
selves had drawn, in opposition to the hostile measures which the
earl of Traquair 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 Johnston— -afterwards lord Warriston — protested
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
Lor.D WAnmsTON. 427
majesty's herald at the Cross of Edinbiirgli. Upon this occasion the
earl of Cassilis stood forward in name of the nobility ; Gibson of
Diirie in that of the barons ; Fletcher provost of Dundee, appeared
for the burgesses; and Kerr, minister of Preston, for the church.
Johnston, 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 consideration of his
former gratuitous services, when having taken the oath de fidel% he
was admitted to all the rights, profits, and privileges, which that office
had previously enjoyed. Having been thus installed, the moderator
requested that all who had any Acts or books of former Assemblies,
would put them into his hands ; upon which the former clerk handed
in two, containing Acts from 1592 to that of Aberdeen, in 1618 ; and
Johnston produced five, containing documents sufficient for drawing
up a history of the church from the beginning of the Eeformation, —
a circumstance which was at that time greatly valued by the Assembly
and which has been the means of transmitting to posterity a faithful
record of the tyrannous proceedings of the government of the day.
In the same Assembly he was appointed procurator for the church.
To him was intrusted the framing of all treaties and papers that
concerned the church ; and all printers were prohibited from
publishing the same, without a license under his hand.
Enraged at these and other proceeding of the Assemby, 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 the
parliament of 1641, at the time when Argyle was appointed to the
treasury, and Loudon to the office of chancellor. At the same
time he was nominated one of the lords of session, with an annual
pension of £200.
During this and the follow^ing year, lord Warriston was appointed
to several important offices. He was one of those selected to w^atch
over the articles of peace between the two kingdoms, until the meeting
of parliament ; besides being one of the commissioners sent to London
to negotiate with the English parliament, for sending assistance from
Scotland to Ireland, immediately after the unhappy rebellion, 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 parliament : — " 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
Scotland 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 a't home and abroad.
6. That the present parliament had been friendly to the Scots, and
might be so again. T. That though the king had so lately established
428 SCOTS WORTHIES,
relii^ion among tbem, according to their desire, yet they could not
conSde in Lis royal declaration, having so often found his promises
and performances completely at variance." These declarations the
estates held in good part, and suggested others as they saw it to
be expedient.
In pursuance of this, upon the arrival of commissioners from the
parliament and Assembly at Westminster, the General Assembly, by
an Act of sederunt, commissioned five ministers, and three ruling
elders, to repair to the kingdom of England, among whom was lord
AVarriston. His lordship not only used all diligence as a member of
the AVestminster 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 between the two
kingdoms. This, however, was aftewards brought against him as an
act of high treason.
In 1646, he was appointed lord-advocate of Scotland, with the
direction of the committee of London and E'ewcastle, 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 re-
pealed, and the malignants once more got into places of power and
trust, lord Warriston took part with the protesters, and had a prin-
cipal hand in managing their affairs. All his movements were now
sedulously watched, and spies were set upon his actions wherever he
went. A letter which he had written to an Assembly held at St.
Andrew's, on the 18th of July, 1651, was suppressed ; and though it
was ascertained to have been delivered into the hands of the moder-
ator, and by him opened in order to its being read, yet it could never
afterwards be obtained, though called for upon several occasions, and
at several diets.
For upwards of five years lord "Warriston had now acted for the
king's interest, and had both spoken and written against his country-
men taking office under the Usurper ; yet, from a want of self-com-
mand, he himself was induced to accept the office of clerk-register,
under Cromwell, — a step, however, which he continued to regret till
the day of his death. Wodrow relates, that at the meeting held in
Edinburgh, which sent him to London, he opposed it with all his
eloquence, acquainting them with what was his weak side ; and that,
through the easiness of his temper, he might not be able to resist
importunity — 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, however,
that he was generally sad and melancholy afterward, and that his
worldly affairs 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
Johnston of Warriston, and Sir John Chiesly of Carswell. Lord
LORD WARRISTON. 429
Warriston, however, escaped for a time, and therefore was sum-
moned, by sound of trumpet, to surrender himself ; and a proclama-
tion was issued, offering £100 Scots for his person, discharging and
prohibiting, at the same time, all persons from harbouring or con-
cealing him, upon pain of treason. On the 10th of October follow-
ing, 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. Warriston'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 indictments were : — " His pleading against E'ewton Gordon,
when he had the king's express orders to plead for him, — assisting in
the Act of the West Kirk, — drawing out, contriving, or consenting
to, the paper called the Western Remonstrance, and the book called
Causes of God's Wrath, — sitting in parliament as a peer in England,
contrary to his oath, — acceptii^ the office of clerk-register from the
Usurper, — and, being president of the committee of safety when
Eichard Cromwell was laid aside."
" None of all these, however," says Wodrow, " were the real
causes of this good man's sufferings. A personal prejudice and
pique were at the bottom of all these bitter proceedings ; for, the
goodly freedom he took, in reproving vice, was what could never be
forgotten or forgiven. I have an account of the holy freedom lord
Warriston used, from a reverend minister who was his chaplain at
that time, and took liberty to advise Warriston not to adventure upon
it : yet this excellent person, having the glory of God and the honour
of religion more in his eyes than his own safety, went on in his de-
signed reproof, and could not, for a compliment, quit the peace he
expected in his own conscience, be the event what it would, by dis-
burdening 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 well-wishers, it was never forgot."
In the matter of compliance with Cromwell, lord Warriston was
not alone, — the greater part of the nation being involved as well as
liimself. Many who had held office under Cromwell had been dis-
charged by the court ; but it was reserved for him and the marquis
of Argyle, — stem reprovers of vice, and uncompromising friends of
Presbytery, — to seal the testimony of Jesus with their blood.
After sentence of forfeiture and death had been passed against
him, he went abroad, to escape the persecution of his enemies ; but
their malice pursued him ; for, having been taken ill at Hamburgh,
it was said that Dr. Bates, one of king Charles' physicians, adminis-
tered poison to him, and took from him about sixty ounces of blood,
with the intention of finishing his existence. The excellence of his
constitution, however, triumphed over the murderous attempt ; but
his memory was ever after so much impaired, that he could not re-
member what he had either said or done, above the short space of a
quarter of an hour.
His recovery, however, only whetted the appetite of his blood-
thirsty enemies ; for they caught him soon after, at Roanne, in France,
whither he had gone unadvisedly. He was taken when engaged in
430 SCOTS WORTHIES.
prayer, by a person called Murray, whom the government had de-
spatched in quest of him. In January, 1663, he was brought over
prisoner, and committed to the Tower of London, where he was de-
tained 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 pro-
ceed against him." The vessel arrived 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 discovered 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 execution.
Sentence was accordingly pronounced : — " 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 bless-
ings might be on church and state, and on his majesty — and that
God would give him honest and faithful counsellors.
During the whole of his imprisonment, his mind was in a tender
and spiritual frame ; and the nearer his death approached, his com-
posure became the more conspicuous. The night previous to his exe-
cution he slept soundly, and in the morning he was full of consola-
tion, expressing his assurance of being clothed in a long white robe,
and of having put into his mouth a new song in praise of God and
of the Lamb. Before noon he dined cheerfully, enraptured at the
thought of being so near the end of his journey.
After having spent some time in secret prayer, he was taken from
prison about two o'clock, attended by several of his friends in mourn-
ing, 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
smful 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
LORD WARRISTON. 431
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 executioner was adjusting the rope
upon his neck, he repeated the same words, adding : — " The Lord hath
graciously comforted me !" and when the same functionary asked his
forgiveness, he said : — " The Lord forgive thee, poor man !" and at
the same time gave him some money, desiriug him to do his duty, if
he was ready ; crying out : — " O pray, pray ! Fraise, 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 Drummond, his son-in-law, it
was taken down and interred with his body.
Thus lived and died the eminently pious and learned Lord War-
riston, whose talents as an orator, both in the senate and on the bench,
are too well known to recpire any encomium here. Prayer was his
delight ; and in that exercise he enjoyed sweet fellowship and com-
munion with his God and Saviour. It was a frequent saying of his :
— " I dare never question my salvation, — I have so often seen God's
face in the house of prayer !" One of his biographers says concern-
ing 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, per-
haps, 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.
432 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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. Andrew's, and also one of the ministers of the city.
As "Wood favoured the views of the resoluti oners, there was unfortu-
nately 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, 1
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 Scotland."
Hutherford was not disappointed in him ; for nothing could ever pre-
vail upon him to comply with the tenets of episcopacy. On the con-
trary, he was grieved to the heart when he saw the apostasy and
treachery of some of his acquaintances, with whom he had formerly
taken sweet counsel ; particularly that of 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, whare 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 archbishop, who, step-
ping out first, turned round and uncovered to receive Middleton ; by
which means Wood's curiosity w^as fully gratified. Eying him very
narrowly. Wood burst forth with strong emotion : — " O thou Judas,
apostate traitor, that hast betrayed the famous presbyterian church
01 Scotland 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 common
death of men !" And so it happened, about eighteen years after.
Wood continued in the undisturbed enjoyment 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 interro-
gated how he came to be provost of the college of St. Andrew's ; and,
when about to reply, he was interrupted in an abrupt manner, and
ordered to answer iu a word. Eecjardless of such ungentleman-liko
JAMES WOOD. 433
conduct, he told them very coolly, that he had been invited by the
faculty of the college, at the recommendation of Cromwell, " as some
j)resent very well knew," alluding to Sharp. This was quite enough,
— he was immediately commanded to retire ; but a short time only
elapsed, when he was recalled, and told : — " That the lords of council,
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 follow-
ing 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 w^as dangerously ill ; that particu-
lar business required his immediate presence at St. Andrew's ; and
praying for permission to visit his father. The prayer of the petition
w^as 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 immediately spread a rumour : — "That Mr. Wood,
being now under views of death and eternity, had professed himself
very indifferent as to church-government, declaring the government
of the church by Presbytery to be alterable at the pleasure of the
magistrate." This impudent falsehood 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, which he himself
dictated and subscribed, on the 2d of March, in presence of two wit-
nesses 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 vindicated 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 govern-
ment 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 1, wherein the Lord hath
434: SCOTS WORTHIES.
cleared me with a strong hand. I bless the Lord that hath made me
understand the nature of his covenant, and gave me light in the point
of justification, and helped me in some measure to hold out light
therein to others, and cleared me in the controversy with the Inde-
pendents, and this anent prelacy." He said, " he had said before,
and said so still, that if ever he should come to be against presby-
terian government, he might fear to meet God's everlasting wrath,
and be made a spectacle to others." He said further, with much
grave confidence, " God will give an outgate (meaning of the pre-
lates), though they will say, it is impossible — and how should it come?
— he can hiss for the bees, as beyond the river.
Having thus given publicity to his sentiments, he afterwards en-
joyed great calmness and serenity of mind, frequently setting forth
his sweet experiences, and the assurance he had of a blessed entrance
being administered to him into Christ's kingdom in glory, which he
obtained on the 15th of the same month.
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 resolutioners.
TVodrow says that he left behind him a finished treatise, in manu-
script, refuting the dogmas of Arminianism ; and it is also known
that he triumphantly asserted presbyterial government in opposition
to the Independents. He has several other small works in print ;
but they are beginning now to get scarce.
WILLIAM GUTHRIE.
This studious, learned, and justly celebrated servant of Christ, was
bom atPitfrothy, in the county of Angus, in 1620. His father was
proprietor of that estate, and a branch of the ancient family of Guth-
rie ; 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 eminent 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. Andrew's. He completed his course of
WILLIAM GUTHRIE. 435
philosophy under his uncle, Mr. James Guthrie, afterwards minister
of Stirling, whose life we have already recorded. At college, Guth-
rie lodged in the same room with his uncle, and therefore enjoyed
advantages 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 effectually 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. Andrew's,
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 be-
longing 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 harmonious, 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 diflaculties and discouragements he had to encoun-
ter at the outset; yet through the divine blessing upon his labours,
he was eminently successful in reforming the manners of the people.
Many of them, indeed, were so unconcerned about religion as never
to enter a place of worship ; and the face of their pastor was alto-
gether unknown by them. ISTumbers 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
evening, and asked lodgings, which he did not even obtain without
much entreaty ; but, when once admitted, he made himself a very
agreeable guest, by his amusing and instructive conversation. One
question always was, — how did they like their minister? — 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 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 -nrfi-^r, fi- ^t
436 SCOTS WORTHIES.
be bad never been in tbe babit of praying, and tberefore could not,
Gutbrie was so very earnest in bis entreaties to make trial, tbat tbe
man cried out : — " 0 Lord, tbou knowest tbat tbis man would bave
me to pray ; but tbou knowest I cannot pray !" Tbis was sufficient,
— Gutbrie desired bim to stop, saying, be bad done enougb, and im-
mediately began bimself, to tbe great wonder and edification of tbe
family. Wben prayer was over, tbe mistress of tbe bouse said to ber
husband — " Surely tbis man must be a minister !" Tbe people were
overawed, and felt as if a cbarm bad come over tbem. It was no
difficult matter, under sucb feelings, to gain tbeir compliance to ap-
pear in cburcb on tbe following Sabbatb. But, wbat w^as their sur-
prise, wben tbey saw tbat it was tbe minister bimself who bad been
tbeir guest, and wbo, in tbe guise of an bumble peasant, upon tbeir
own beartb, bad supplicated for tbem so many blessings.
Witbin bis parisb, too, tbere was a person w^bo, instead of going to
cburcb on tbe Lord's day, betook bimself to tbe fields witb bis dog
and gun. Gutbrie was determined to reclaim tbis man, and tbe efibrt
was blessed. Tbe minister asked bim wbat reason be bad for dese-
crating tbe Sabbatb ; and tbe answer be received was, tbat it was tbe
most fortunate day in tbe week for tbat exercise. Gutbrie asked bim
bow mucb be could make by it ; and, upon being told tbat be could
at least realize balf a crown, the good pastor at once told bim that be
would pay bim that sum, if be would appear in church next Sabbath.
After tbe congregation w^as dismissed, Guthrie told him that be would
renew the bargain, if he would appear again, which tbe man con-
sented to do. From that time afterward, be never failed to give re-
gular attendance in the bouse of God ; and, relieving the minister
from bis^ obligation, be felt to bis sweet experience tbat godliness was
of itself great gain. This man, ere long, became a member of the
kirk-session, and ever after continued to live a godly and useful life.
Guthrie bimself was fond of rural recreation, and took particular
pleasure in angling, fowling, and cm-ling. In these exercises be
mingled much with bis parishioners, which be always improved as
seasons of religious instruction, in such a way, as never to give ofi*ence.
" But," says a celebrated biographer, " as he was animated by a
flaming zeal for tbe glory of bis blessed Master, and a tender com-
passion for tbe souls of men ; and as it was the principal thing that
made bim desire life and health, that be might employ them in pro-
pagating the kingdom of God, and in turning transgressors from their
ways ; so tbe very hours of recreation were dedicated to this purpose,
which were so endeared to bim, tbat be knew how^ to make bis diver-
sions subservient to the noble ends of bis ministry. He made tbem
tbe occasion of familiarizing bis people to bim, and introducing bim-
self to their affections ; and, in tbe guise of a sportsman, he gained
some to a religious life, whom be co\5d bave had little influence upon
in a minister's dress,— of which tbere happened some memorable ex-
amples."
After having been ordained for about a year, be married Agnes
Campbell, daughter of David Campbell of Skeldon, in Ayrshire, a
remote branch of tbe family of Loudon, by whom be bad six chil-
dren. Only two daughters outlived bimself. Mrs. Gutbrie was a
WILLIAM GUTHRIE. , 437
lady of the most amiable qualities, who proved a very agreeable
companion and comforter to her hnsband, for upwards of twenty
years, — one faith, one hope, one baptism, and a supreme love to
Jesus Christ, actuated both during the whole period of their union.
Not long after his marriage, Guthrie was appointed by the General
Assembly to accompany the army, in the capacity of chaplain ; but
just as he was preparing to set out, he had a violent attack of gravel,
to which he was occasionally subject. His amiable wife felt uneasy
at the thought of his absence, and would have dissuaded him from
compliance ; but in this sudden chastisement 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 hus-
band's acquiescence. In this campaign, upon the defeat of the
party to which he was attached, he had a very narrow escape, — a cir-
cumstance, of which he ever after retained the most grateful remem-
brance. He was with the army again, at the time when the
Usurper's forces were victorious at Dunbar, on the M of September,
1650. Rutherford, upon that occasion, dissuaded him strongly from
taking part with Cromwell, saying : — " that his heart trembled to
entertain the least thought of joining with these deceivers." Guthrie
accordingly joined the remonstrants, and was chosen Moderator of
that Synod at Edinburgh, after the public resolution ers had left them.
Such was Guthrie's pleasant and cheerful talent for conversation,
that he was universally respected by the English officers, who all
eagerly sought his acquaintance ; but, although he indulged for a
time, in harmless mirth, his courage and constancy in the service of
his Great Master never for a moment forsook him. Upon all occa-
sions he found himself able to repress the extravagancies of the
English sectarians, and to curb that spirit of licentiousness, which, as
the dominant party, they thought themselves entitled to indulge ; a
very remarkable instance of which took place at a communion, in
Glasgow, celebrated by the Eev. Andrew Gray. — Several of the
English officers had formed a design to put in execution the dis-
orderly practice of promiscuous admission to the Lord's table, with-
out 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 dispense 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 with-
out 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 made many calls to other parishes about this time, but no
* These " Friends," as they call themselves, had made a number of proselytes in Glas-
gow, Kilbride, and other parishes in Lanarkshire ; but especially in the parish of Glassford,
where they had prospered so well, thad there is still pointed out there a cemetery, where
they buried their own dead, with their heads to the east, contrary to the practice of all
other Christians.
438 SCOTS WORTHIES.
solicitation could make bim leave Fenwick. He was fond of the re-
tirement and recreations of a rural life ; he loved his 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 considerable localities in the nation ; having no views to tem-
poral 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
published 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 dissatisfied, and therefore thought
the only way to remedy the defect, and save his reputation, would be
to revise the whole of these discourses. It was this circumstance that
gave rise to that admirable treatise, " The Christian's Great Interest,"
which has been blessed to the souls of thousands. Guthrie was
equally displeased at the title of the surreptitious work, and at the
very imperfect and injudicious manner in which it had been got up ;
for, although it was published anonymously, 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 Jervis-
wood, 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 inecum; I carry it and the Sedan ]S"ew
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 Dutch, and was so highly valued in Holland, that Mrs. Guthrie
and one of her daughters met with very marked attention in that
country on its account, upon their relationship to the author being
made known. It was also translated into French and High Dutch,
and into one of the Eastern languages, at the charge of the honour-
able Robert Boyle, a very distinguished 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 government,
in terms remarkable both for their prudence and courage, which was
approved, and transmitted to the synod. Some, how^ever, of the
resolution party, judging it inexpedient, afforded an opportunity of
delay to those who intended to comply with episcopacy ; and thus for
the time got it suppressed.
^ About this time also, being the last time he was in company with
his cousin, James Guthrie, he was observed to be rather melancholy,
— when his friend, in order to rouse him, said : — " A penny for your
WILLIAM GUTHRIE. 439
a
what
ider
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."
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 unne-
cessarily 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. Yery
many of his brethren had been ejected by this time, and therefore
vast crowds of people assembled at Fen wick every sabbath-day, from
parishes at a great distance, that they might hear the words of
everlasting truth ; but particularly upon sacramental occasions. At
these solemnities, so vast was the concourse, that 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 remarkable 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 religious life, who had previously
been dissolute profaners of God's holy name and ordinances ; who,
after his being taken from them, could never, without 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 having fortified them so
strongly in a zealous adherence to the purity of the Keformation, and
warned them so faithfully of the defections 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 sufferers in the persecution which immediately followed.
Ko 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 Claverhouse and the Covenant.
440 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Guthrie's extraordinary usefulness and popularity liad now so much
enraged tlie bishops against him, that the archbishop of Glasgow, in
reply to the earl of Glencairn — 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 meddling 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
tlie commission, 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
liim 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 has destroyed thyself; but in
me is thine help !" From that text he laid before them, with great
plainness and affection, their own sins and the sins of the land and
age ; and at the close of the sermon, intimated that he would meet
with them again on the Sabbath following at an early hour. Between
four and five in the morning the church was crowded to excess, when
he addressed the congregation from the last clause of the verse,
already mentioned : — " But in me is thine help." Upon this heart-
rending occasion, he directed his audience to the Great Fountain of
help, when tlie 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 cm-ate of Cadder came to Fen wick,
with a party of twelve soldiers, and, by commission from the arch-
bishop of Glasgow, discharged Guthrie from preaching any more in
Fenwick ; 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 con-
strained 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
nmch in answer to 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 1 respect the civil authority, who, by their law, laid the
WILLIAM GUTHRIE. 441
ground of the sentence against me. I declare I will not cease from
lie exercise of my ministry for all that sentence. As to the crimes
vvith which I am cliarged — 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 wdsh the Lord may
forgive you the guilt of it : but I cannot but leave all the bad conse-
quences 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 w^ays. As for you, gentle-
men," 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 Provi-
dence coming upon him very soon ; and says Mr. Wodrow : — " I am
well assured he never preached any more after he left Fenwick. He
reached Glasgow, but it is not certain that he reached Cadder, though
but six miles from Glasgow. 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 thereby, and none belonging to him were left."
Before leaving Fenwick the curate repaired to the church, and in-
timated the bishop's sentence from the pulpit, after having harangued
the soldiers for about a quarter of an hour ; for they formed the whole
of his audience, with the exception of a few children, who annoyed
442 SCOTS WORTHIES.
the CTirate not a little. In compliance witli their minister's request,
the parishioners were all quiet ; although, if he had wished, they
would have sacrificed their lives in defence of his rights.
It is generally believed that Guthrie never preached in Fenwick
after this ; but it is related, that upon a certain occasion, as he and a
number of his parishioners were returning from Stewarton, whither
they had gone to hear sermon, and understanding 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 sermon, to their
great joy and edification, — so much pleased were they at hearing
tLat voice once more, which had so often thrilled their hearts with
rapture.
He continued, however, in Fenwick, till the year 1665, when, upon
the death of the brother to whom he had made over the paternal
estate, he and his wife took their departure for Angus to look after
the family affairs. But he had not been long there until he was
attacked by a complication of maladies, which in about ten days
wrought his dissolution. In the midst of his greatest sufferings, he
said, " The Lord has been kind to me, notwithstanding all the evils
I have done ; and, I am assured, that though I should die mad, I shall
die in the Lord. Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord at all
times ; but more especially when a flood of errors, snares, and judg-
ments, are beginning or coming on a nation, church, or people 1" So
very excruciating were his bodily pains, that in order to afford him
temporary relief, his friends were frequently obliged to hold down
his head, and raise his lower extremities ; — ^yet, amidst all these he
was never heard to complain ; but adored the measures of Divine
Providence, saying — " It might have been worse." During his
short intervals of cessation from bodily pain, he longed ardently for
his dissolution, and often said how gladly he would make the grave
his dwelling-place, when it should please God to bring his sufferings
to a close. Death came at length to his relief in the house of his
brother-in-law, Mr. Lewis Skinner, at Brechin, upon Wednesday, 10th
October, 1665, in the 4:5th year of his age ; and he was buried in the
church of Brechin, immediately beneath the seats allotted to the
estate of Pitfrothy.
'* 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 preaching gifts, so recommended him to the
affection of his people, that they turned the corn-field of his glebe into
a little town, every one building a house for his family on it, that
they might live under the drop of his ministry." Another writer says
of him — " He was a burning and shining light ; he converted and
confirmed many thousand souls, and was esteemed the greatest
preacher in Scotland. Indeed, he was accounted as well qualified for
confirminsr those who were under exercise of soul, as almost any in
ROBERT BLAIR. 443
liis age, or any age we ever heard of. Many iiave made reflections
on him because he left oiF his ministry, on account of the bishop's
suspension. 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
together ; although it might well have been seen," as Guthrie ob-
serv^ed, — " 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 holograph, are still to be found.
ROBERT BLAIR.
John Blair of Windyedge, a younger brother of the ancient family
of Blair, If the parish of Irvine, was the father of this Worthy; and
..his mother was Beatrix Muir, of the family of Eowallen. -He was
born in 1593, His father died when very young, leaving his mother
with six children, of whom Eobert 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 appointed to fill the chair which
his brother had occupied, until he was settled minister of Dumbarton.
Previous to his nomination 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 celebrated 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.
444 SCOTS WORTHIES.
In the summer of 1616, Blair entered upon trials for license, and,
having passed honourably throngh, 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 fov one of his hearers the famous
Mr. Robert Bruce, and being anxious to know what that good man
thought of his discourses, he received for answer : — " I found your
pcrnion very polished and well digested ; but there is one thing T
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 pro-
fessors, 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. You may choose your own
way ; but I will adventure upon the Lord." Some years after, For-
syth being reduced to great poverty, applied to the General Assembly
for relief; and Blair, hajDpening to be moderator at the time, could
not help remarking on his former conduct. In a private conference
with the unfortunate man, he recalled to his mind his former unhappy
expression ; but at the same time, with great tenderness, told him
that he himself had been carried through byj;hat faith, at which he
had formerly scoffed.
Some time after this he was under deep mental exercise upon that
saying in scripture. The just shall live hy faith / the result of which,
among other things, led him to remark, that it was no wonder that
his not making use of faith for sanctification had occasioned an ob-
struction in the progress of holiness ; and therefore he perceived 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 provision reached to me, as it were through a
window. I had come to the house of mercy, but had not found the right
door ; by this discovery, however, I found a patent portal at which to
go in, to receive provisions and furniture from Jesus Christ. Thus
the blessed Lord trained me up, step by step, suffering many diffi-
culties to arise, that more light from himself might flow in."
Soon after this, upon the resignation of principal Boyd, Dr. Came-
ron was called from France to preside over the university of Glas-
gow ; and being a staunch adherent to episcopacy, Blair was repeat-
edly urged by him to give in to the " Five Articles ;" but he as fre-
quently refused. The Doctor had his eye upon him ever after this ;
and the more so, because he had been repeatedly worsted by Blair,
in public disputations, which galled the Doctor's scholastic pride not
a little. Besides, having acted towards Blair, during his absence, in
a manner far from being honourable, he foresaw that his future life,
in connexion with a man of the Doctor's temper, would be everything
k
ROBERT BLAIR. 445
but pleasant, lie 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 ac-
cepted 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 ac-
ceptance 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
vrhich he had begun to walk. The Dean was no friend in his heart
to episcopacy,, of w^hich he gave Blair frequent assurance on his death-
bed, behaving towards him with the greatest kindness and attention.
A little before his death he stretched out both his arms, and, drawing
Blair towards him, blessed him in the most heavenly manner, which
was so unlike his former general behaviour, that a bystander remark-
ed : — " 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 following 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 account of episcopacy,^
yet I know you believe presbytery to have a divine warrant — will you
not receive ordination from Mr. Cunningham 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
therefore 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
jjreached 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 der
termined him ever after, in the observance of that ordinance, to have
recourse to the same inexhaustible fountain of consolation ; and,
coming over to Scotland soon after,'^ he received no small assistance
from Kr. Dickson, who had been restored to his flock at Irvine, and
who was studying and preaching on the same subject. But he was
not allowed to exercise his ministry for many years vmdisturbed ; for,
in the autumn of 1G31, he and Mr. Livingstone were both suspended
* It is supposed that about this time he married his first wife, Beatrix Hamilton, a very
excellent lady, belonging to the family of Barduie.
446 SCOTS WORTHIES.
by the bishop of Down. Upon application, however, to archbishop
Usher, their sentence was relaxed, and they were permitted to con-
tinue 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 there-
fore the time hung very heavy on his hands. One day, however,
tired with waiting on the court, and labouring under deep despond-
ency, after having engaged in solemn prayer, he walked out to Green-
wich Park, and having ventured to ask of the Lord a sign by which
he might be able to judge of his success, — it was most graciously re-
vealed to him, that his wishes would ere long be realized. Yery 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 dej)uty, on
the margin, written with the king's own hand, were the words : —
" Indulge these men, for they are Scotsmen !"
Upon his return to Ireland, he presented Charles' note to the
deputy ; but he paid no attention to it ; wherefore he was compelled
once more to have recourse to good archbishop Usher. The vener-
able old man shed tears because he felt himself unable to assist the
suffering servants of God ; however, through the kind interposition
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 excommunication pronounced against him. Blair's
spirit rose with the emergency, and, before the bishop's face, he sum-
moned him to answer for his conduct before the tribunal of Jesus
Christ. Upon this the bishop contemptuously appealed from the
justice of God to his mercy ; to which Blair very coolly replied : —
" Your appeal is like to be rejected, because you act against the light
of your conscience !" — 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 inquiring how he felt :
— " It is my conscience, man, it is my conscience ?" — As might have
been expected, the doctor's observation was : — " 1 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 pres-
byterian ministers in Ireland had formed a project of building a
vessel to convey them to America, and that they actually accom-
plished this. A tremendous hurricane, however, rendered their
scheme abortive, and they sought refuge in Scotland. Blair was one
of these. Having continued about four months in Ireland, after the
failure of the expedition, he and Mr. Livingstone, having received
information, that they were about to be apprehended, immediately
ROBERT BLAIR. 447
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 a 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 reproof, 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 occa-
sion he had a very narrow escape of his life ; for, his foot having
slipped, he w^ould have fallen into the sea, had he not caught hold of
a rope, by which he hung till he was relieved.
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 fol-
lowing. His stay, however, was but short ; for having, at the Gene-
ral Assembly of that year, vindicated himself in regard to his dispu-
tation with Dr. Cameron, while professor in the university of Glas-
gow, and also in the matter of his settlement in Ireland, he was by
the supreme court appointed to St. Andrew's, where his splendid
talents might be turned to better account. He, nevertheless, con-
tinued another year, not seeing his way clearly, as he expressed him-
self; 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 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 chaplain to the earl of
Crawford's regiment ; in which situation he continued until July,
1644, when the king's troops were defeated at Marston-moor ;f after
which he returned to his charge at St. Andrew's.
Blair opened the parliament and commission of Assembly, at
Perth, in July, 1645 ; and, after having again preached before par-
* A contemporary writer says that in this rebellion, the papists massacred about 200,000
piotestants, — men, women, and children,
t " The Scots army entered England," says the Medulla Historice ScoticcB, "Jan. 16, 1643,
their army being in number 18,000 foot, and 2,000 horse. After they had served the par-
liament upon several occasions, and particularly at Marston-moor, 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 com-
mit himself to him ; looking upon him as a man of honour, that would do nothing but what
was just and loyal, in a matter of such weight.
443 SCOTS WORTHIES.
liament, on the 27th — a day of solemn humiliation, — he rode out to
the army, then encamped at Forgandonny, and preached to Crawford
and Maitland's regiments. In that sermon he told them that their
wickedness w\is notorious ; and, though they had been victorious at
Marston-moor, they would not be able to stand before a less formid-
able foe, if they did not i-epent, and turn to God. In about three
weeks after, the greater part of Crawford's regiment 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 affliction of his
people — and so it turned out — for the Committee of Estates recalled
General Leslie w^ith 4000 foot and 1000 horse. Montrose by this
time had received orders from the king to march southward, and
oppose Leslie; but the latter, having surprised the royal anny at
rhiliphaugh, totally routed Montrose, and put his army to flight, —
the general himself having with difficulty made his escape. Among
the prisoners taken in that encounter were Sir Robert Spottiswood,
Xathaniel 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 Eobert he so far succeeded, as to obtain from him a wish to
be released 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 ovuvi.^
In the Assembly of 1646, Blair, who was moderator at the time,
was one of those appointed to go to the king at ]^ewcastle, and en-
deavour 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 tu
popery, Blair asked his majesty if there were not abominations in
that worship : — " Yes," replied Charles, " I take God to witness
there are abominations 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 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.
Andrew's, 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 w^ay clearly ; but having consulted his friend
Mr. Dickson, and recollecting how honourably his deceased brother
presence-chamber before dinner and supper ; lecturing once, and
preaching twice, every Lord's day ; besides preaching occasionally in
St. Nicholas' church on other days ; conversing much with the king ;
♦ Rooks oat of a bad nest.
ROBERT BLAIR. 449
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 con-
troversy, 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 weight
with him, than that of any divine. After having performed the
duties for a few months, he was permitted to visit his flock and
family.
During the sitting of the next Scots parliament, Blair paid the
king another visit at JSTewcastle, where he urged him with all the elo-
quence and arguments he could command, to subscribe the Covenants,
and abolish episcopacy in England, — assuring 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 w^ould maintain 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 therefore Blair took his
departure for St. Andrew's 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
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 inten-
tions. But Blair was not to be trifled with ; he respectfully demand-
ed an answer to three questions — What was his opinion of monar-
chical government ? — What w^ere his views of toleration ? — and, What
did he think of the government of the church ? To the first, Crom-
well 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 par-
don me, that I give you not a present answer to this !" Blair knew
well the meaning of this evasion ; for Cromwell had formerly con-
fessed that he was partial to that of Independence. When the depu-
tation left Cromwell, Mr. Dickson 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 efiect a pacification, he used all his
influence and eloquence to reconcile differences; yet, both at St.
Andrew's and at Edinburgh, where there was a strong muster on both
29
450 SCOTS WORTHIES.
sides, all his Lopes were blasted, and every shadow of agreement
vanished.
In this state did affiiirs continue till the year 1660, w^hen, upon the
death of Cromwell, the nation, weakened by intoi'nal dissensions,
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. Andrew's, and the presby-
tery having been well assured of the double part he had been acting,
and of the probability of his being made archbishop of St. Andrew's j
— ill at ease wuth such an Aclian 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 w^ill harm you, if ye be i
followers of that which is good V' — 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 expression. The points upon which he was
interrogated, were: — 1. Whether he had asserted presbyterial
government to be jure divino f — 2. Whether he had asserted that
suffering for it was suffering for righteousness' sake ? — 3. Whether
in his prayers against popery he had joined prelacy 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 Inveresk, 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 chan-
cellor, he then obtained liberty to go anyw^here he chose, with the
exception of St. Andrew's, Edinburgh, and the west country. He
made choice of Kirkaldy ; but, in consequence of an Act w^hich was
passed soon after — that no ousted minister should reside within twenty
miles of an archbishop's see, — he w^as 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 approach-
ing exit, with the composure and serenity of a believer in Jesus.
Many and gracious were the edifying words with w^hich he both
strengthened and comforted the numerous friends who visited him
upon his deathbed. Upon one occasion, when told of some severe
acts of council, lately passed at the instigation of archbishop Sharp,
instead of reproaching him, he prayed earnestly that the Lord would
open his eyes, and give him repentance ; and afterwards, in a conver-
sation with Mrs. Rutherford said : — "I would not exchange situations
ROBERT BLAIR. 45]^
with that man (Sharp) altho' all between us were red gold, and given
me to the bargain !"
To his wife and children he spoke with the most affectionate
seriousness ; and after having solemnly blessed them, he addressed
them one bj one upon subjects of grave and eternal importance. To
his son David he said, " I have again and again thought upon my
former ways, and communed with my heart ; and as for my public
actings and carriage, in reference to the Lord's work, if I were to
begin again, I would just do as I have done." He frequently
repeated the 16th, 23d, and Ylst psalms — the latter of which he used
to call his own. About two days before his death, his speech began
to fail so much that his w^ords were but imperfectly understood ; but
to his wife, and some other attendants he w^as heard to say, that he
rejoiced to suffer as a persecuted minister, adding, very energeti-
cally : — " Is it not persecution to thrust me from the w^ork of the
ministry, which was my delight, and hinder me from doing good to
ray people and flock, which was my joy and crown of rejoicing, and
to chase me from place to place, till I am wasted with heaviness and
sorrow, for the injuries done to the Lord's prerogative, interest, and
cause ?" These were among the last intelligible expressions he w^as
heard to utter. At length death terminated all his earthly sufferings
and sorrows, on the morning of the 27th of August, 1666.
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 reconditae jacent mortse
Exuviae D. Eoberti Blair, S. S.
Evangelii apud Andreapolin
Praedicatoris fidelissimi. Obiit
August! 27, 1666, Aetatis suae 73.-^
Blair was a man of an excellent constitution ; 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 j^arish 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 expo-
sitions, and the decision which he uniformly displayed in all matters
of public concern.
At the time when the General Assembly resolved upon a new
Exposition of the Bible, the portion assigned to Blair was the books
of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes ; but the former of these only he
finished in the same year on which he died. He is said also to have
cultivated, occasionally, a taste for poetry, and to have left behind
* Here lie intoml)ed the mortal remains of Mr. Robert Blair, S. S., a very faithful
preacher of the gospel at St. Andrew's, who died Dn the 27th of August, 1666, in the 73d
year of his age.
452 SCOTS WORTHIES.
him a few fugitive effusions, and some shoii; epigrams on various
subjects, whicn did no inconsiderable honour to the age in which he
lived.
HUGH M'KAIL.
Although all the historians of the age in which M^Kail lived narrate
his sufferings 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
m the family of Sir James Stewart of Coltness, at that time lord pro-
vost of Edinburgh, a gentleman remarkable for his attachment to the
cause of both civil and religious liberty. In this family M'Kail be-
came acquainted with the marquis of Argyle, the earl of Loudon, lord
Warriston, and many other kindred spirits, whose patriotic attach-
ment 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 irre-
concilable 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 narrated.
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 for-
gotten now, and he was involved in the general persecution. Having
been induced to accompany his friend Sir John Chiesly of Carswell
to Edinburgh castle, both of these gentlemen were then made prison-
ers 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 Edin-
burgh, and having gone through his probationary trials to their satis-
♦ From Edinburgh castle, Sir James was removed to Dundee, and fined, first in £500,
and afterwards in £1000.
HUGH M'KAIL. 453
faction, 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
I Church of Edinburgh, from Song i. Y.,* may be dated the commence-
ment 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 allusion to Haman and Judas he made
no application, yet Sharp and Lauderdale thought their portraits had
been very accurately drawn ; and therefore M'Kail was singled out
as a very proper person to be put to silence.f Accordingly, a troop
of dragoons soon after surrounded Coltness House, in the night time ;
but M'Kail, although he had little more than a moment's warning,
escaped from his own bedroom to another, and was almost miracu-
lously preserved. From thence he escaped to his father's house in
the parish of Libberton, where he remained under concealment, till
he found an opportunity to go to Holland, at that time the asylum of
Scottish refugees. In that peaceful country, apart from the shaft of
j)ersecution, and the din and carnage of civil discord, he enlarged his
stock of theological knowledge, by entering himself a student in one
of the Dutch universities.
M'Kail returned to Scotland about the year 1664, or 1665 ; but
found the state of the church much worse than when he w^ent abroad.
A set of ignorant, illiterate curates occupied the pulpits of the learned
and godly ministers who had been ejected ; and because they would
not cease to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation, when and where-
soever they could find opportunity, had been forced to wander upon
tlie mountains, and hide themselves in the lonely glens of the wildest
fastnesses which the country afforded.
After his return, M'Kail lived for the most part at his fiither's
house ; but though his days were spent in seclusion, they were not
allowed to pass in idleness. The sheep-walks and valleys were his
resort for prayer and conference with those who were as sheep with-
out a shepherd ; and to such persons these were indeed times of re-
* ^' Tell me, 0 thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest iky
flock to rest at noon : for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the lloclvs of thy
companions 1"
t The following document, which is still to be found in the records of council, affords a
lamentable specimen of prelatic domination, in the times of which we write : — " Informa-
tion having been given that Mr. Hugh M'Kail, chaplain to Sir James Stewart of Coltness
and Goodtrees, did of late, in a sermon preached by him in one of the kirks of Edinburgh,
most maliciously inveigh against, and abuse his most sacred majesty, and the present
government in church and state, to the great offence of God, and the stumbling of his people ;
and that the said Sir James Stewart, and Mr. Walter his son were present, when said ser-
mon was preached, at least, were certainly informed thereof; yet, notwithstanding, did en-
tertain him in their family. As also, the said Mr. Walter, had emitted some speeches in
a smithy, on a certain day, tending to sedition, especially anent public differences — and had
said that before business went on long as it wa^ going, a hundred thousand would lose their
lives in the three kingdoms. — Therefore macers are ordered to cite them before the council
against the 11th inst."
Sir James got clear of these charges ; but his son, Mr. Walter, on being examined, and
witnesses called, was found guilty of having uttered something tending to a spirit of liberty,
anu dislike of the bishops. He was therefore imprisoned ; but afterwards set at liberty.
454: SCOTS WORTHIES.
freshing, — many of whom testified that he had been with Jesus, ad-
vancing in knowledge and true holiness ; and, these things having
been reported to the curates, he became so much the more the object
of their implacable malice. His native land, which had been once
Beulah, — married to the Lord — had forsaken her God, and therefore
M'Kail thought it a very befitting time for weeping, and fasting, and
g-ayer. During one day in every week he poured out his soul to
od in godly sorrow for his afflicted country ; and it was observed,
that always after such exercises, he was endowed with a large portion
of divine gi-ace and strength, to impart consolation to others, and to
take comfort to himself, of which he soon after stood so much in need.
The Spirit of God has not said in vain, that " the secret of the Lord
is with them that fear him ;" for, M'Kail had now an irradicable
presentiment, that he would one day fall into the hands of his ene-
mies, and die a martyr for the truth. Tlie prospect of that event,
however, in no way dismayed him ; for, to the sweet experience of
the " little flock" who were in the habit of meeting him in his place
of retirement, he appeared as one coming from the wilderness, " like
pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, and all the
powders of the merchant.'^
It was during the time he lived at his father's house, that the
troubles in the west country were excited by the cruelties of Sir
James Turner, who instigated his soldiers to acts of extortion and
cruelty, unknown to, and unauthorized by, the council."^ From
motives which he himself afterwards details, M'Kail joined himself
to those who then took up arms in defence of presbyterianism, and
marched with them into Ayrshire. In this small army of undisci-
plined men, there were other ministers besides M'Kail, all eager in
defence of the vilified cause. It w^as their intention to march to
Edinburgh with their prisoner Turner, whose guilty conscience kept
him in constant alarm for his life, which some would have had no
objections that he should have been deprived of ; but he was saved
by Neilson of Corsack, a gentleman whom he had harassed above
measure. Their route lay through a deep moss between Cumnock
and Muirkirk, which they had to traverse during a heavy rain.
M'Kail was of a delicate constitution, and ill adapted for such a
march in such weather : for, only a little before this, he had been
confined to bed at Ayr, and was accompanying the party on horse-
back. Our limits will not permit us to detail the movements of the
Covenanters, and their proceedings at Douglas, and Lanark, on their
way to the metropolis, farther than that they renewed the Covenant
at the latter place, after a very moving sermon by the Rev. Mr.
Guthrie of Tarbolton. After the preacher had ended, the Covenants
♦ One day some soldiers were actually preparing to roast a poor old man alive, upon a
large gridiron, when they were desired by four countrymen to desist. This interference
only exasperated the soldiers, and a scuffle ensued, in which the peasants succeeded in dis-
arming their antagonists, and releasing their friend. Fearing lest the other military who
were quartered in the parish would avenge the quarrel of their comrades, they immediately
mustered a stronger party, and disarmed the whole without harm to any but one who was
killed in resisting. Following up their success, — afraid of Turner's resentment, when the
circumstance should come to his knowledge, — they marched on to Dumfries, took him
prisoner, and d'-armed his troops.
HUGH M'KAIL. 455
were read over, article by article ; at the conclusion of each of which,
the people lifted up their hands, and sware unto the Lord their God.
— A writer of that period says : — " It will be hard to parallel such
another company ; so many together of sound judgment, true piety,
integrity of heart, prudent zeal, undaunted courage and resolution,
and with so small a mixture of persons of corrupt minds, profane
conversation, and sinistrous ends ; and, although we would not be
prodigal of men's lives, especially of saints, when there are so few
now to stand between the living and the dead ; yet that simple act of
renewing the Covenants gave more glory to God, and was a greater
testimony and advantage to that covenanted cause, than (we hope)
the loss of so many as tell in its support."
After leaving Lanark, they had a letter from Sir James Stewart,
encouraging them to march forward to Edinburgh, and informing
them who were ready to join them. By this advice, they were unin-
tentionally led into new difficulties ; for, while taking a hurried march
by Bathgate, Sharp, alarmed at their approach, had caused all the
gates of the city to be shut, and the passages guarded in such a way,
that their friends were prevented from joining them, while DalziePs
army cut off all succour in the rear. Exhausted and faint, M'Kail
was unable to proceed farther than the water of Almond, at
Cramond ; from which place as he was making the best of his way to
Libberton, and passing through Braid's Crags, one Kennoway, an
officer of dragoons, with another person, met him and made him
prisoner.
Having been brought before the council at Edinburgh he was stripped
and examined for letters, or other writings ; but although none were
found, he was committed to prison. 'Next day he was taken before
the earl of Dumfries, lord Sinclair and others, and being interrogated
concerning the rebellion, refused to reply to several of their questions ;
which induced the council to suspect he was possessed of some secrets
he was unwilling to divulge.
On Thursday, N'ovember 29th, M'Kail was again examined. He
acknowledged having been with the party in the west country ; but,
even this would not satisfy the council. They still imagined he could
make some important disclosures ; and to elicit them, that terrible
instrument of torture, the Boot^ was laid before him, warning him,
* This instrument was employed for the purpose of extorting confessions from criminals,
and for eliciting evidence against suspected persons. It was a strong iron or wooden box,
shaped like a boot, and adapted to receive one or both legs. Where both legs were con-
fined, as in the case of Ravillac, the assassin of Henry IV. of France — see his trial in
Sully's Memoirs, vol. v. — a wedge was driven between the knees by the force of a pallet ;
and other wedges of increased thickness were successively introduced, until the prisoner
gave way under the mortal agony occasioned by the blows of the mallet. It is also
recorded of the celebrated Dr. Fian, who was tried at Edinburgh for Sorcery, and tortured
with the boots, " wherein he continued for a long time, and did abide so many blows in
them, that his legs were crushed and beaten together so small as might be, and the bones
and flesh so bruised, that the marrow spouted forth in great abundance, whereby they were
made unserviceable for ever." When the instrument was suited to receive only one of the
legs of the prisoner, the wedge was driven between the edge of the boot and the knee.
For a notice of the application of this species of torture, perfectly harrowing in its details,
see Old Mortality, chap. vii. ; and which, although found in a work of fiction, yet, coming
from the pen of Sir Walter Scott, may be considered as possessing historical accuracy, and
cannot fail to impress the mind of the reader by its appalling truthfulness.
456 SCOTS WORTHIES.
that lie would certainly be subjected to it, if he did not make confes-
sion. Having still preserved silence, he was brought forward again ;
and, although the instrument was produced, reeking with the blood
of Xeilson of Corsack, the young martyr suffered them to do their
worst, in torturing his limb beyond description. Nothing, however,
could the agonizing pain extort. Before he received the last three
strokes, he protested before God, that he had no disclosures to make,
although all the joints in his body w^ere subjected to the same usage.
More he would not say than that the rising in Galloway was caused
by the indiscretion of Sir James Turner.
Having suffered severely from the effects of the torture, he
petitioned the council to delay proceedings against him. Two
physicians and two surgeons were therefore appointed to visit him
and report, which they did, confirming the bad state of his health ;
but the council allowed him only six days. In the mean time, Anne,
duchess of Hamilton, and her mother-in-law, the marchioness of
Douglas, wrote to the earl of Rothes in his favour, but their request
was denied — and M'Kail, with other four, was brought before lord
Eenton, justice clerk ; and Mr. Murray, advocate depute. The
principal charges against M'Kail were, '' that he had been at Ayr,
Ochiltree, and Lanark, with the rebels, on horseback, with a sword,"
&c.
Having been permitted to speak to the indictment — although still
very weak — he rose and addressed the court with great calmness ; but
at the same time with the most undaunted fortitude. He said that,
from the conclusion of his indictment, and from what had happened
to others, he looked upon himself as one appointed to die, and tiiere-
fore he would candidly acknowledge that he was not ashamed of be-
longing to that afflicted, persecuted party, the Presbyterians. Ad-
verting to the charge of rebellion, he said, that simple presence was
his only accession to it ; and that only by his own extrajudicial con-
fession. Indeed, there was nothing against him but what he had
himself admitted ; and therefore the advocate depute, having again
read over his confession to the court, without any farther inquiry re-
ferred the business entirely to them. The jury having been called,
gave in their verdict by Sir William Murray of E"ewton, their chan-
cellor.— " Finding Hugh M'Kail guilty of being with the rebels at
several places, according to his own confession before the council."
The verdict being reported, his doom was pronoimced, declaring
and adjudging him to be taken, on Saturday, December 20th, to the
market-cross of Edinburgh, there to be hanged on a gibbet till dead,
and his goods and lands to be escheated and forfeited for his majesty's
use. Upon hearing this sentence he said, " The Lord giveth, and the
Lord taketh away ; blessed be the name of the Lord." He was then
carried back to the tolbooth, through the guards, the people making
great lamentation for him. After he came to his chamber, he imme-
diately addressed himself to God in prayer, with great enlargement
of heart, in behalf of himself and those who were condemned with
liim. To a friend he afterwards said, " O how good news : to be
within four days' journey of enjoying the sight of Jesus Christ !" and
protested, " he was not so cumbered how to die, as he had sometimes
HUGH M'KAIL. 457
been to preach a sermon." To some women lamenting for him, he
said, " That his condition, though he was but young, and in the bud-
ding of his hopes and labours in the ministry, was not to be mourned ;
for one drop of my blood, through the grace of God, may make more
hearts contrite, than many years' sermons might have done."
The same afternoon he supplicated the council for libert}^ to his
father to visit him, which being granted, his father came next night,
with whom he conversed a little concerning obedience to parents.
After prayer, his father said to him, " Hugh, I called thee a goodly
olive- tree of fair fruit, and now a storm hath destroyed the tree and
his fruit !" — to which M'Kail answered, " that his too good opinion
of him afflicted him." His father replied, " He was persuaded God
was visiting not his own sins, but his parents' sins, so that he might
say, Our fathers have sinned and we have borne their iniquity,"—
adding, " I have sinned ; thou poor sheep, what hast thou done ?"
M'Kail answered with many groans, " That, through coming short
of the fifth commandment, he had come short of the promise, that
his days should be prolonged in the land of the living ; and that
God's controversy with his father was for overvaluing his children,
especially himself."
Upon the 20th of December, through the importunity of friends
more than his own inclination, he gave in a petition to the council,
craving their clemency, after having declared his innocence ; but it
proved altogether ineffectual. During his abode in prison, the Lord
was very graciously present with him, both in sustaining him against
the fears of death, and by expelling the overcloudings of terror, that
sometimes the best of men, through the frailty of flesli and blood, are
subject to. He was also wonderfully assisted in prayer and praise,
to the admiration of all the hearers ; especially on Thursday night,
when, being at supper with his fellow-prisoners, his father, and one
or two more, he said somewhat cheerfully, " Eat to the full, and
cherish your bodies, that we may be a fat christmas-pie to the pre-
lates !" After supper, he broke forth into several expressions, both
concerning himself and the church of God, and at last used that ex-
clamation in the last of Daniel, " "What, Lord, shall be the end of
these wonders?"
The last night of his life he proposed and answered several questions
for strengthening his fellow-prisoners, such as : — How should he go
from the tolbooth through a multitude of gazing people and guards of
soldiers, to a scaffold and gibbet, and overcome the impression of all
this ? He answered, by conceiving a deeper impression of a multitude
of angels, who are on-lookers ; according to that scripture, " We are a
gazing stock to the world, angels, and men ;" for, the angels rejoicing
at our good confession, are present to convey and carry our souls to
Abraham's bosom ; not to receive them, for that is Jesus Christ's work,
who will welcome them to heaven himself, with the songs of angels
and blessed spirits. What is the way for us to conceive of heaven,
who are hastening to it, seeing the word saith, " Eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard," &c. ? To this he answered, that the Scripture helps us
two ways to conceive of heaven, 1. By way of similitude, as in Rev.
xxi., where heaven is held forth by the representation of a glorious
458 SCOTS WORTHIES.
city, &c. 2. By holding forth the love of the saints to Jesus Christ,
and teaching us to love him in sincerity, which is the very joy and
exultation ot heaven.
The last words he spoke at supper were in the commendation of
love above knowledge : — '' O but notions of knowledge without love
are of small worth, evanishing in nothing, and very dangerous !"
After supper, his father having given thanks, he read the 16th psalm,
and then said, " If there were anything in the world sadly and un-
willingly to be left, it were the reading of the Scriptures. I said I
shall not see the Lord in the land of the living ; but this needs not
make us sad, for where we go, the Lamb is the book of Scripture, and
the light of that cit}^ ; and there is life, even the river of the water of
life, and living springs," &c. Supper being ended, he called for a
pen, saying, it was to write his testament in which he ordered some
few books he had to be delivered to several persons. He went to bed
about eleven o'clock, and slept till live in the morning, when he rose
and called for his companion, John Wodrow, saving pleasantly, " Up,
John, for you are too long in bed ; you and 1 look not like men going
to be hanged to-day, seeing we lie so long !" After some short dis-
course, John said, " You and I shall be chambered shortly beside Mr.
Robertson !" M'Kail answered, " John, I fear you bar me out, be-
cause you were more free before the council than I was ; but I shall
be as free as any of you upon the scaffold !" He then prayed with
great fervency, pleading his covenant relation with God, and that
ihey might be enabled that day to witness a good confession before
many witnesses. His father then bade him farewell ; to whom, after
prayer, he said, his sufferings would do more hurt to the prelates, and
be more edifying to God's people, than if he were to continue in the
ministry twenty years. Desiring his father to leave him, and go to
his chamber, he prayed earnestly to the Lord to be with him on the
scaffold ; for, " how to carry there is my care, even that I may be
strengthened to endure to the end."
About two o'clock, afternoon, he was brought to the scaffold, with
other five who suffered with him ; where, in the opinion of all who
formerly knew him, he had a fairer and more composed countenance
than ever they had before observed. Being come to the foot of the
ladder, he directed his speech to the multitude on the north, saying,
" that as his years in the world had been but few, his words should
not be many ;" after which he delivered with a firm voice the subse-
quent speech and testimony which he had before written and sub-
scribed.
He then sung a part of the 31st psalm, and prayed with such power
and fervency, as caused many to weep bitterly ; after which he gave
away his hat and cloak. When he took hold of the ladder to go up,
be said with an audible voice, " I care no more to go up this ladder,
and over it, than if I were going home to my father's house !" Hear-
ing a noise among the people, he called down to his fellow-sufferers,
saying. " Friends and fellow-sufferers, be not afraid ; every step of
this ladder is a degree nearer heaven !"— and, having seated himself
thereon, be said, '-' I do partly believe that the noble counsellors and
rulers of this land would have used some mitigation of this punish-
m
HUGH M'KAIL. 459
iiient, had they not been instigated by the prelates ; so that our blood
lies principally at their door ; but this is my comfort now, that I know
that my Redeemer liveth. And now I do willingly lay down my life
for the truth and cause of God, the Covenants and works of Reforma-
tion, which were once counted the glory of this nation ; and it is for
endeavouring to defend this, and to extirpate that bitter root of Pre-
lacy, that 1 embrace this rope,'^ — the executioner then putting the
rope about his neck. Hearing the people weep, he said, " Your
work is not to weep but to pray that we may be honourably borne
through ; and blessed be the Lord that supports me now. As I have
been indebted to the prayers and kindness of many since my imprison-
ment and sentence, so I hope you will not be wanting to me now,
in the last step of my journey, that I may witness a good confession ;
and that ye may know what the ground of my encouragement in this
work is, I shall read to you from the last chapter of the Bible, my
glory and reward, " Let him that is athirst come ;" and here you see
my welcome, " The Spirit and the bride say. Come." He then said,
" I have still a word to say to my friends " — looking down the scaf-
fold— " Where are you ? You need neither lament nor be ashamed
of me in this condition, for I make use of that expression of Christ,
' I go to your Father and my Father, to your God and my God,' to
your King and my King, to the blessed apostles and martyrs, ' and to
the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumera-
ble company of angels, to the general assembly of the first-born, to
God the judge of all, to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to
Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant;' and I bid you all farewell,
for God will be more comfortable to you than I could be, and he will
be now more refreshing to me than you can be — Farewell, farewell,
in the Lord !" Then the napkin being put over his face, he prayed a
little, and, putting it up again with his hand, said he had a word more
to say concerning what comfort he had in his death. " I hope you
perceive no alteration or discouragement in my countenance and car-
riage ; and as it may be your wonder, so I profess it is a wonder to
myself; and I will tell you the reason of it. Besides the justice of
my cause, this is my comfort, that when Lazarus died, the angels did
carry his soul to Abraham's bosom ; so that as there is a great solem-
nity here, a scaffold, a gallows, people looking out of windows ; so
there is a greater and more solemn preparation of angels to carry my
soul to Christ's bosom. Again, this is farther my comfort, that it is
to come to Christ's hand, and he will present it blameless and fault-
less to the Father, and then shall I be ever with the Lord. And now
I leave off speaking any more to creatures, and begin my intercourse
with God, which shall never be broken off. — Farewell father and
mother, friends and relations ; — Farewell the world and all delights ;
— Farewell meat and drink ; — Farewell sun, moon, and stars ;— Wel-
come God and Father ; — Welcome sweet Jesus Christ, the Mediator
of the new covenant; — Welcome blessed Spirit of grace, and God of
all consolation ; — Welcome glory ; — Welcome eternal life ; — and,
Welcome death !"
He then desired the executioner not to turn him off until he him-
self should put over his shoulders, — which, after praying a little
460 SCOTS WORTHIES.
within himself, he did, saying, *' O Lord, into thy hands I commit
my spirit, for thou hast redeemed my soul, O Lord God of truth !" —
and tlius, in the 2Gth year of his age, he died as he had lived in the
Lord, —
* Shouting forth with his expiring breath.
The great Redeemer's praise, rriumpnant leap'd
Into the nnonsler Death's devouring jaws,
And nnade his hollow vaults, while passing through
Wiih hallelujahs ring. Thus Stephen died."
nis death was so much lamented by the spectators, that there was
scarcely a dry cheek in all the streets and windows about the cross of
Edinburgh, at the time of his execution. A celebrated historian gives
liim this character, that, " he was a youtli of 26 years of age, univer-
sally beloved, singularly pious, and of very considerable learning.
He had seen the world, and travelled some years abroad, and was a
very comely and graceful person. I am told," said he, '^ that he used
to fast one day every week, and had frequently, before this, signified
to his friends his impression of such a death as he now underwent.
His share in the rising was known to be but small ; and when he
spoke of his comfort and joy in his death, heavy were the groans of
those present."
Meanwhile, Mackail's fellow-sufferers, being men of little educa-
tion, who
" lived unknown,
Till persecution dragged them into fanae,
And chased them up to heaven,"
spoke their last testimonies with such meekness and patience towards
their enemies, with such greatness of soul, piety, and good sense, that
they were an admiration to all. Those who knew them before were
convinced that it was given them from on high what they should
speak. John Wodrow ; Michael Shields, an Englishman ; John
Wilson of Ayr; and Humphrey Colquhoun, were like men in the
suburbs of heaven. Colquhoun called for his Bible, laid it on his
wounded arm, and read from it apposite passages, to the astonish-
ment of all. When they were taken in battle, they had the promise
of life ; but, to gratify the primate's rage and cruelty, they were put
to death, contrary to all law ; and, what is more, contrary to king
Charles' order, that no more lives should be taken in the quarrel.
Bishop Burnet had brought the king's order to this effect, to Sharp, as
bead of the council, who had connived at its being kept secret, till
Mackail and his brethren were cut off.
JOHN NEVAY. 4^Ql
JOHN NEYAY.
John Neyay was licensed and ordained a minister in the time of
Scotland's purest reformation, and settled at IS'ewmills in the parish
of Loudon. Besides his soundness in the faith, he was a man of re-
markable piety in conversation, and great diligence in attending to
all the parts of his ministerial function. In church-judicatories he
was particularly zealous in contending against the several steps of de-
fection, that were contrary to the work of reformation carried on in
that period.
When the earl of Callendar and major-general Middleton were
cruelly harassing the Covenanters, and well-affected people in the
west of Scotland, because they would not join in the Duke of Hamil-
ton's unlawful engagement in war against England, Nevay was one
of those ministers who assembled at the celebration of the Lord's Sup-
per at Mauchlin-moor, in June, 1648, where opposition in their own
defence was made to Callendar and Middleton's forces, being attacked
by them there upon the last day of that solemnity.* Besides, when
the Assembly held at Edinburgh and St. Andrews, in 1651, approved
and ratified the public resolutions for restoring the malignants to
places of power and trust in judicatories and armies, JSfevay was one
of those who faithfully witnessed and protested against that unhappy
course.
And, as a conclusion to the whole, when that chief of malignants,
Charles H., was restored as king over these lands — in consequence of
which the whole of our covenanted work of reformation, which for
some time had flourished, began to be defaced and overturned —
JS'evay, being the earl of Loudon's chaplain, and very much esteemed
by him, was Nov. 18, 1662, by order of the council, cited, with some
others, to repair to Edinburgh, and appear before the council, on the
9th of December thereafter. He did not, however, compear until the-
23d, when he was examined; and, upon his refusing the oath of
allegiance, he was banished, in terms of the following bond : —
" I, John ]S'evay, minister of the gospel at !N"ewmills, bind and
oblige myself to remove forth of the king's dominions, and not to
return under pain of death ; and that I shall remove before the first
* Bishop Guthrie says, that the chief managers here were Messrs. "William Airdir,
William Guthrie, and John Nevay ; and that the Covenanters were of foot 2000, and horse
500 strong.
4^2 SCOTS WORTHIES.
of February ; and that I shall not remain within the dioceses of
Glasgow and Edinburgh in the mean time. Subscribed at Edin-
burgh, December 23.
" John I^evay."
Having taken leave of his old parishioners, with a sorrowful heart,
he prepared for his journey, and went to Holland, where for some
years he preached to such as would hear him ; and yet all the while
he displayed the affection of a dear and loving pastor to \m old
parishioners of Loudon, both by sending them sermons and letters,
in which he not only exhorted them to steadfastness in midst of
temptation, but even showed a longing desire to return to his native
lanct and parish, as appears from a letter, written some time before
his death, dated Rotterdam, October 22, 1668 :*-^" I can do no
more than pray for you ; and if I could do that well, I had done
almost all that is required. I am not worthy of the esteem you have
of me ; I have not whereof to glory, but much whereof I am
ashamed, and which may make me go mourning to my grave ; but
if you stand fast, I live. You are all my crown and joy in this
eai'th, next to the joy of Jerusalem and her King, and I hope to have
some of you my joy and crown in our Father's kingdom, besides
those that are gone before us, and entered into the joy of the Lord. I
have not been altogether ignorant of the changes and wars that have
been amongst you — deep calling unto deep — nor how the Lord did
sit on all your floods as King, and did give you many times some
more ease than others ; and you wanted not your share in the most
honourable testimony that ever was given to the truth and kingdom
of Christ in that land, since the days of Messrs. Patrick Hamilton,
George Wishart, and Walter Mill, &c., martyrs."
That Nevay was no ordinary divine in his day, is fully evident,
from an act of the General Assembly, in 1647; in which he was
nominated one of four ministers, appointed to revise and correct
Rouse's Paraphrase of David's Psalms in Metre, — of which he had
the last thirt}' — and also that elegant Paraphrase of his upon the
Song of Solomon, in Latin verse. Both of these show him to have
been a man not only of profound judgment, but very rare and singu-
lar abilities.
Prefixed to the sermons of the Rev. James Borstius, an eminent
Dutch divine, at Rotterdam, will be found two copies of Latin
stanzas, signed, Joannes Nevius, Scotus ; the former of which is a
paraphrase of Isaiah ii. 1-— 5, consisting of seventy-two lines, very
creditable, indeed, to the piety and scholarship of the writer.
Nevay's son married Sarah von Brakel, whose poetical powers are
favourably exhibited in her elegy upon a popular preacher, and a
kind friend to the British refugees. In the year 1737, there was
nublished at the Hague, the fourth edition of a small tract by Sarah
Nevius, entitled, '' The Devout Disciple taught by the Lord Jesus
himself."
There are fifty-two sermons, or rather notes of sermons, of ISTevay's
* In 1670 Charles II: made application to the States-General to remove Nevay and
others from the Dutch territories.— S/eym'« Hist, of the Church.
JOHN LIVIJNGSTONE. 403
published, upon the nature, properties, blessings, &c., of the Cove-
nant of Grace, in 8vo. ; thirty-nine sermons on Christ's Tempta-
tions, in manuscript, all of which were sent over from Holland, for
the benefit of his old parishioners of Kewmills.
JOHN LIVINGSTONE,
The subject of this memoir was born in 1603. He was son of Mr.
William Livingstone, minister at Kilsyth, but afterwards removed to
Lanark. He was nearly related to the house of Callendar. After
having taught his son to read and write, he sent him to the Grammar
school of Stirling, under Mr. Wallace, a pious and learned man,
where he continued till summer 1617, when he returned home. In
October following, he was sent to the college of Glasgow, where he
remained four years. In 1621, he passed Master of Arts.
After this he lived w^th his father till he began to preach, during
which time he observed the Lord's great goodness, that he had been
born of parents who taught him the principles of religion as soon as
he was capable of understanding anything. In his own historical
account of his life, he does not remember either the manner or time,
particularly, when the Lord first wrought upon his heart ; only,
when but very youug, he would sometimes pray with feeling, and
read the word with delight ; but afterward often intermitted such
exercises. He had no inclination for the ministry, till a year or
more after he had passed his course at college, when he had a strong
desire to study medicine, and go to France for that purpose; but his
father refused to comply. About this time his father, having pur-
chased some land in the parish of Kilsyth, caused the title-deeds to
be drawn out in his son's name, proposing that he should marry and
live there. Against this, however, he remonstrated, fearing it might
divert him from his studies. In the midst of these straits, he resolv-
ed to set apart a day by himself to implore God for more special
direction ; and for this purpose he accordingly retired to Cleghorn
wood, about a mile from Lanark, where, after nmch uneasiness
regarding the state of his soul, he thought it was made out to him,
that he behoved to preach Jesus Christ ; which, if he did not, he
should have no assurance of salvation. Upon this, laying aside all
thoughts of other things, he betook himself to the Btndy of divinity.
He continued a year and a half in his father's house, studying and
464: SCOTS WORTHIES.
sometimes preaching ; during which time he wrote all his sermons
before he preached them, till one day, being to preach after the
communion at Quodquhan, and having in readiness a sermon which
he had preached elsewhere one day before, but perceiving several
persons present who had heard him preach it, he resolved to choose
a new text, writing only some notes of the heads he was to deliver;
yet, he says, he found at that time, more assistance in enlarging
upon these points, and more emotion in his own heart, than he had
ever found before. lie never afterwards wrote any more sermons,
excepting only notes for the help of his memory.
About April, 1626, he was invited by Lord Kenmure to Galloway,
in reference to a call to the parish of Anwoth; but some hinderance
intervening, this design was laid aside. In the following autumn, he
responded to another call from Torphichen ; but this proved also un-
successful.
After this he resided for some time with the earl of Wigton, assist-
ing for the most part upon sacramental occasions, particularly at
Lanark, Irvine, ISTewmills, and the Kirk of Shotts. He used to say
that he experienced more of the divine presence, in preaching at the
latter place, than at any other, and particularly refers to Monday,
21st June, 1630, the day after a communion, when, having spent the
previous night in prayer witli some pious Christians, he felt such free-
dom and enlargement of mind, as he had never experienced before.
He had been visited with such misgivings of spirit, when reflecting
upon his own weakness and unworthiness, and the expectations of the
people, that he thought to have withdrawn privately, and declined
the appointment ; but fearing to distrust Him who has said : — " I
will never leave thee nor forsake thee," he entered upon the duty,
choosing for his text, Ezek. xxxvi. 25, 26 : — " Then will I sprinkle
clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean ; from all your filthi-
ness," cfec. Here he was led out in such a melting strain, that, by
the outpouring of the Spirit, a very perceptible change was wrought
upon about 500 hearers, who could either date their conversion, or
some remarkable confirmation, from that day.* He farther adds : —
" Some little of that stamp remained on me the Thursday after, when
preaching at Kilmarnock ; but on the Monday following, preaching
at Irvine, I was so deserted, that what I had meditated upon, written,
and kept fully in memory, I could not get pronounced ; which so dis-
couraged me, that I resolved not to preach for some time, — at least
at Irvme ; but Mr. Dickson would not suffer me to go from thence,
till I preached next Sabbath, which I did with some freedom."
Being at Irvine the same summer, he received an invitation from
Clanniboy, to come to L-eland, in reference to a call from Killinchie ;
and, seeing no appearance of an appointment in Scotland, he went
thither, and got a unanimous call from that parish. Here he laboured
with the utmost assiduity among a people who had been both rude
and profane before, but soon became the most experienced Christians
in that part of the country. But he had not been above a year there
until he was suspended by the bishop of Down. He remained under
* See Fulfilling of the Scriptures part i. p. 434. Wodrow's History vol. i. p. 143.
JOHN LIVINGSTONE. 465
that sentence, until May, 1632 ; when, by the intercession of Lord
Castlestuart, a warrant was granted by the king for his restoration.
Soon after, he married the eldest daughter of Mr. Bartholomew
Fleming, a merchant in Edinburgh ; but in little more than three
years he was again deposed and excommunicated. Seeing no pros-
pect of liberation either to ministers or professors, he embraced the
resolution of going to 'New England with other ministers in the same
situation ; but the expedition proving unsuccessful, as we have already
more than once narrated, he returned to Scotland, and took up his
abode for a time with Mr. Dickson, at Irvine. His stay, however,
was short, as he soon after took his departure for Edinburgh.
About the beginning of March, 1638, when the great body of the
nation were about to renew their testimony, he was despatched to
London with copies of the Covenant, and letters to friends ; but he
had been there only a few days, when the Marquis of Hamilton in-
formed him that he had overheard the king say, Livingstone had
come, but he would put a pair of fetters about his feet. Alarmed for
his safety, he bought a horse and came home by St. Alban's and
the western road. He was present at Lanark and other places when
the Covenant was sworn ; and, except at the Kirk of Shotts, as already
noticed, he says, he never witnessed such emotions of the Spirit, — all
the people so generally and willingly concurring ; yea, thousands of
persons all at once lifting up their hands, with the tears flowing from
their eyes ; so that, through the whole land, the people almost uni-
versally entered into covenant with God, for the reformation of reli-
gion against prelacy and its obnoxious ceremonies.
In 1638, Livingstone received a call both from Stranraer in Gallo-
way, and Straiton in Carrick ; but he referred the matter to Messrs.
Blair, Dickson, Cant, Henderson, Rutherford, and his father ; who,
having heard both parties, advised him to Stranraer ; to which charge
he was admitted by the presbytery, upon the 5th of July, 1638,
where he remained, in the faithful discharge of his ministry, until
aiitumn 1648, when he was, by the nomination of the General Assem-
bly, translated to Ancrum in Teviotdale. Here he found the people
tractable ; but so very ignorant, and some of them so very loose in
their morals, that it was a long time before any competent number
of them were brought to such a condition that he could venture to
celebrate the Lord's Supper. By his diligence, however, through the
grace of God not a few began to lay religion to heart.
In 1649, the parliament and church of Scotland sent commissioners
to treat with the king at the Hague, in order to his admission ; but
they returned without satisfaction. However, in summer 1650, the
parliament sent other commissioners to prosecute the foresaid treaty
at Breda, when the commission of the kirk chose Messrs. Living-
stone, Wood, and Hutcheson, ministers ; with the Lords Cassillis and
Brodie, as ruling elders, that, in name of the church they should
present and prosecute their wishes. For several reasons Livingstone
was very unwilling to comply ; the chief of which was, he still sus-
pected the king not to be right at heart in respect of the true presby-
terian religion ; observing, at the same time, that many in the king-
dom were ready to receive the king home upon any terms ; but he
30
466 SCOTS WORTHIES.
was at Icnirth prevailed upon by Messrs. Dickson, James Guthrie,
and Patrick Gillespie, to yield compliance. After much conference
and reasoning with his majesty at breda, however, the commission-
ers were not like to come to any satisfactory conclusion. Living-
stone observed that Charles still continued the use of the service-book
and his chaplains, and frequently spent the night in balls and other
public parties. This, with many other things, made him conclude
there would be no blessing on that treaty ; which, to his unspeakable
grief, was at last concluded. Some time after, the king set sail for
Scotland, but Livingstone refused to go on board with the party ;
and certainly would not have done so, but for the following sti-ata-
gem. AVhen lord Brodie and Mr. Hutcheson saw that they c^uld
not prevail upon him to come on board, they solicited him, before
])arting, to come into the ship at least, to speak of some urgent
matters ; which having done, the boat, in the mean time, that should
have waited his return, made strait for the shore without him. The
king now agreed with the commissioners to swear and subscribe the
Covenants, National and Solemn League ; but Livingstone, judg-
ing that such a rash and precipitate swearing of the Covenants would
not be for the honour of the cause they were embarked in, did all he
could to deter Charles and the commissioners from doing so until
they came to Scotland. When, nothing, however, would dissuade
the king from his purpose, compliance was granted ; but Livingstone
afterwards remarked, that the commissioners, nay, the whole king-
dom— not even excepting the church — were highly culpable in re-
storing him to the government, without any real evidence of a change
having been wrought upon his heart, and without a renunciation of
his former principles, council, and company.
After they landed in Scotland, before taking leave of the king at
Dundee, he took the liberty of advising Charles to avert the impend-
ing stroke ready to be inflicted by a victorious English army making
rapid advances upon him, by issuing a public declaration in such a
way as not to compromise his right to the crown of England ; and, in
the mean time, desist from prosecuting his title by lire and sword,
until the storm should blow over, when the nation would be in a
better mood for being governed. But Charles did not relish this mo-
tion, saying, he would not wish to sell his father's blood ; which made
Livingstone conclude, that his advice with regard to matters of state
would meet with but little success. Another instance of this he met
with in 1654, when he, with Messrs. Patrick Gillespie and Menzies,
were called up by the protector to London, when Livingstone pro-
posed that the heavy fines that had been imposed upon many in
Scotland, which they were altogether unable to pay, should be taken
off. Cromwell seemed to relish the suggestion very w^ell ; but when
it was proposed to the council, they unanimously refused to listen
to it.
While at London, preaching before the protector, Livingstone men-
tioned the king in prayer, at which some were greatly incensed ; but
Cromwell, knowing his influence in Scotland, said, " Let him alone ;
he is a good man ; and what are we, poor men, in comparison of the
kings of England ?"
JOHN LIVINGSTONE. 4^
Some time after the General Assembly appointed Livingstone, and
some other ministers, to wait upon the protector's army and the Com-
mittee of Estates then with it ; but the fear and apprehension of what
ensued, deterred him from going, and he went home until he got the
sad news of the defeat at Dunbar. After this Cromwell wrote to
him from Edinburgh, to come and speak with him; but he deferred
compliance. It was during that winter the unhappy difference oc-
curred between the resolutioners and protesters, and Livingstone saw
it to be his duty to take part with the latter. He was present at their
first meeting in the west, at Kilmarnock, and several other meetings
afterwards ; but not being satisfied with holding these meetings so
often, and continuing them so long, which he imagined made the
breach wider, he declined them for some time.
From that period till the year 1660, he devoted his time to the ex-
ercise of his ministry, when he was informed that the king had been,
recalled. lie now clearly foresaw, that the overturning of the whole
work of reformation would ensue, and that the situation of all who
should adhere to the same would be perilous in the extreme. But
when, in 1662, the parliament and council had, by proclamation,
ordered all ministers who had been inducted since 1649, and had not
kept the holiday of the 29tli of May, either to own the prelates or re-
move, Livingstone foresaw more clearly, that the storm was ready to
burst. At the last communion which he held at Ancrum, in October,
he says, that after sermon on Monday, it pleased the Lord to grant
him enlargement of mind, and freedom of utterance in a reasonably
long discourse, anent the grounds and encouragements to suffer for
the present controversy of the kingdom of Christ, in appointing the
government of his house; after wdiich he took his leave of that place,
although he knew nothing of what was soon to follow.
After he had, like Elijah, eaten before a great journey — having
communicated before he entered upon suffeiing — he heard, very soon,
of the council's procedure against him, and about other twelve or six-
teen who were to be brought before them. Before the summons could
reach him, he went privately to Edinburgh, and concealed himself
there for some time, until he could obtain certain information of the
council's intention, whether they meant to take their lives, as they
had done those of William Guthrie and others, or merely to send
them into exile, as they had done with Messrs. McWard and Simpson.
Finding that they intended only the latter, he therefore resolved to
appear with the rest of his brethren. The 11th of December was the
day fixed for their examination* before the council, — the decision of
which was, that they required him to subscribe or take the oath of
allegiance, which he, upon several solid grounds and reasons, refused.
Sentence was therefore pronounced, that in forty-eight hours he should
depart from Edinburgh, and go to the north side of the Tay ; and,
within two months depart out of all the king's dominions. He ac-
cordingly removed from Edinburgh to Leith ; but thereafter, upon a
petition, in regard of his infirmity, he obtained liberty to remain there
until he should remove from Scotland. He petitioned also for a few
days to visit his wife and children, but was refused ; also for an ex-
* Wodrow's History, vol. i. p. 149.
468 SCOTS WORTHIES.
tract of his sentence, but could not obtain it. In 1663, he went on
board, accompanied to the ship by several friends, and in eight days
reached Rotterdam, where he found the rest of the banished ministers.
Here he had frequent opportunities of preaching to the Scots congre-
gation at Eotterdam ; and in December following, his wife, with two
of his children, came over to him ; but other five were left in Scot-
land.
About this time, upon a retrospect of his life, he observes, that the
Lord had given him a body not very strong, and yet not weak ; for
he could hardly remember himself wearied in reading and studying,
although he had continued seven or eight hours without rising, and
also that there were but two recreations he was in danger of being
mastered by. The first was hunting on horseback, to which he was
very partial ; although he had few opportunities of engaging in it,
yet he found it very enticing ; the other was singing in concerts of
music, of which he had some knowledge, and took great delight.
He says farther, that he was always short-sighted, and could not dis-
cern any person or thing afar off; but hitherto had found no occa-
pion for spectacles, and could read small print as long, and with as
little light almost, as any other. And, as to his constitutional tem-
perament, he was generally soft and benevolent, averse to debates,
rather given to caution than rashness, and too easy to be wrought
upon ; — and although he could not say what Luther affirmed of him-
self concerning covetousness, yet he could say he had been less
troubled with secular cares, than many other evils. He was rather
inclined to solitude than company ; much troubled with wandering
of mind and evil thoughts ; in outward things, he was never rich ;
and although, when in Killinchie, he had not above four pounds
sterling of stipend a-year, he was never in want.
He farther observes, that he could not remember any particular
time of conversion, or ever being much either cast down or lifted up;
only one night, in the Dean of Kilmarnock's, having been most of the
previous day in company with some pious people from Stewarton,
who were under that exercise of mind, when he went to bed under
such heaviness, as he had never experienced before. During night,
when fast asleep, he felt such a terror of the wrath of God upon him,
that he thought himself in a most awful condition. It was instantly
removed, however, but he thought it was said within his heart, " See
what a fool thou art, to desire the thing thou couldst not endure !"
In the pulpit he was sometimes much deserted and dejected, and
again at other times graciously assisted. He has been heard to say
that he never preached a sermon, except two, that he would be de-
sirous to see in print ; the first — says Wodrow — ^was the one at the
Kirk of Shotts, as has been already noticed, and the other, that on a
comnaunion Monday, at Hollywood in Ireland. Upon both of these
occasions he had spent the previous night in conference and prayer
with some exemplary Christians, without any more than ordinary pre-
paration ; for, says his biographer, his style and manner of preaching
were better adapted to ordinary hearers, than to a learned audience.
Of the Hebrew, Chaldaic, and Syriac languages, he had a tolerable
knowledge ; but he never made any proficiency in Arabic.
JOHN LIVINGSTONE. 460
' He had as mucli of the French, Italian, Dutch, and Spanish lan-
guages, as enabled him to peruse their Bibles and some other books ;
and, such was the opinion the General Assembly entertained of his
abilities, that they thrice urged him very earnestly to write a history
of the Church of Scotland, from the Reformation in 1638 ; but he
always declined the task. When in Holland, he spent the greater
part of his time in translating the Bible into Latin from the original
Hebrew ; for which purpose he compared Pagnin's version with the
original text, and with the later translations of Munster, the Tigurine,
Junius, Diodati, and the English ; but especially the Dutch, which
he thought by far the most accurate translation.
Whether from his long sedentary habits or some other cause, —
perhaps the growing infirmities of old age — he could not determine ;
but from the year 1664, he suffered so much from internal pain, that
he could only walk abroad with difficulty. His hands, too, were so
much paralyzed that he could scarcely write ; otherwise, he blessed
the Lord that he had found no great defection either in body or
mind.
In this weak state he continued at Rotterdam till he was relieved
from all his earthly sufferings, on the 9th of August, 1672. Among
his last words were, " Carry my commendation to Jesus Christ, till I
come there myself;" adding after a pause, " I die in the faith, that
the truths of God, which he hath helped the Church of Scotland to
own, shall be owned by him as truths so long as sun and moon en-
dure ; and I believe that Independency — though there be good men
and well-meaning professors in that persuasion — will be found more
to the prejudice of the work of God, than many are aware of. I have
my own faults, as well as other men ; but he made me always abhor
shows. I have, I know, given offence to many, through my negli-
gence ; but I forgive, and desire to be forgiven." Not being able to
speak much at a time, he said, after a short pause : — " I would not
have people to forecast the worst ; but there is a dark cloud above
the Reformed Churches, which prognosticates a coming storm !"
There have been few whose labours in the gospel have been more
remarkably blessed than Livingstone's ; nay, it is doubtful, if any
since the days of the apostles, can produce so many convincing and
confirming seals of their ministry. Witness the Kirk of Shotts and
Hollywood in Ireland, at which two places, about 1500 souls were
either confirmed in the faith, or converted and brought to Christ.
Besides his letter from Leith, 1663, to his parishioners at Ancrum,
are extant his Memorable Characteristics of Divine Providence, and
a manuscript of his live, of which this memoir is a short abridgment.
While in his Patmos in Holland, he finished his Latin Translation of
the Old Testament, which was revised and approved of by Yossius,
Essenius, and other eminent men of the age. Before his death, it was
put into the hands of Luesden, to publish.
4T0 SCOTS WORTHIES.
JOHN SEMPLE.
The origin of this wonderful man is altogether unknown, and there-
fore no account can be given of his early life and habits. The first
notice we have of him is from a manuscript of Mr. Gabriel Semple,
minister of Jedburgh, a relation of his, in which the subject of this
biography is represented as having acted in the capacity of precentor
to one of the Scots ministers in Ireland, — supposed to be either Liv-
ingstone, Blair, or Cunningham. The circumstance which led to his
call to the ministry is singular, as he is said to have been without a
classical education ; and consequently could not have been received
as a student within any of the Universities.
About the time of which we write, and till a period much later, it
was the practice for the congregation to assemble, on sabbath, a
considerable time before the arrival of the minister, and join together
in singing a psalm, which, not unfrequently, was lengthened out, almost
to intolerance. Semple being engaged in this exercise one morning,
and thinking that the minister w^as tarrying unusually long, felt an
irresistible impulse to make some observations upon the psalm they
had been singing, which, by the aid of the Spirit of God he was
enabled to do, with great freedom and enlargement of mind. The
ministers, whose names we have mentioned, having heard of this, and
judging that Semple had an "unction from on high," immediately
examined into his religious experience and scriptural qualifications ;
and, having satisfied themselves that he possessed a gift of edification,
licensed him to teach and exhort in private. Semple, having obtained
this liberty, began to take a wider circuit than was at first contem-
plated, collecting large audiences in barns and unoccupied houses,
and was so very popular and successful, that he became the blessed
instrument of converting many souls to God. But Providence had
marked him out for a more enlarged and useful sphere ; wherefore
lie left Ireland, and, coming over to Kirkcudbright, he there under-
went a scrutinizing examination for the ministry. Soon after, he was
called to Carsphairn, a newly constituted church and parish. The
author of the manuscript says : — " I had frequent occasions to be at
communions in that country, much countenanced by God, — at none
more than Carsphairn ; Mr. Semple always employed the most
lively ministers he could find in the presbyteries of Dumfries or
Galloway — he gave the sacrament twice a year ; and as he had the
choice of ministers, so the choice of people in Galloway and Niths-
dale ordinarily repaired thither, even twenty or thirty miles ofi"."
JOHN SEMPLE. 47^
Semple was a man of strict morality and exemplary piety ; and, as
snch, lie was held in great veneration by all ranks of people. He
was a great check upon the clergy, especially the indolent and
worldly part of them, who were often much afraid of him. Coming
once from Carsphairn to Sanquhar — about twelve miles distant — on
a Monday morning after the sacrament there, the ministers being still
in bed, got up in all haste, to prevent his reproof; but he, observing
them putting on their clothes, said, " What will become of the sheep,
when the shepherds sleep so long ? — in my way hither, I saw some
shepherds on the hills looking after their flocks," which, considering
his age, and early journey, so many miles after he had preached the
day before at home, had much influence on them, and made them
somewhat ashamed.
He was one who very regularly attended church-judicatories, from
which he was seldom absent, and that from a principle of conscience,
so that hardly any circumstance could hinder him from his purpose ;
for, going one time to the presbytery of Kirkcudbright, twenty miles
distant from Carsphairn, when about to ford the water of Dee,
although he was told by some that it was impassable; yet he
persisted, saying, " I must go through, if the Lord will ; I am going
about his work." — He entered the stream, and the strength of the
current carrying him and his horse beneath the ford, he fell, but
immediately standing upright in the water, he took oft' his hat, and
prayed a word with great deliberation ; after which he and his horse
got safely out, to the admiration of all present.
He was also a man much given to secret prayer, and commonly
retired to the kirk, for that purpose, before sacramental occasions,
frequently setting apart Friday for wrestling with the Lord for his
gracious presence on communion Sabbaths. He was often favoured
with merciful returns, to the great comfort of both ministers and
people ; thereafter he also appointed a week day for thanksgiving to
God.
As he was faithful and laborious in his Master's service, so he was
also courageous and bold towards his fellow-men, having no respect
of persons, but sharply reproving wickedness in the highest as well as
in the lowest. He was so evidently a man of God, that the most
wicked, to whom he was a terror, had a respect for him, and spoke
favourably of one who wished well to their souls ; so much so that at
one time, some person of quality calling him a varlet, another person
of the same rank, whom he had often reproved for his wickedness,
being present, said, he was sure if he was a varlet, he was one of
God's varlets. At another time, a certain gentleman, from whose
house he was going home, sent one of his servants, on horseback, with
a broadsword, and loaded pistols, to feign an attack upon him in a
lonelj^-place in the night-time, — the servant being ordered to do all he
could to frighten him. The servant accordingly surprised him by
holding a pistol to his breast, desiring him to deliver up his purse,
under pain of being shot; but Semple, with much presence of mind,
although he knew nothing of the stratagem, answered : — " It seems
you are a wicked man, who will either take my life or my purse, if
God gives you leave. As for my purse, it will not do you much
472 SCOTS WORTHIES.
service, though you Lad it; and for my life, I am willing to lay it
down when and where God pleaseth ; however, if you will lay aside
your weapons, I will wrestle a fall with you for my life ; which, if
you be a man, you cannot refuse, seeing I have no weapons to iight
with you." — After many threats on the part of the servant, though all
in vain, be at length divulged the whole plot, and asked Semple if he
was not afraid at first ? S'ot in the least, answered Semple ; for,
although you have killed me, as I did not know but you might, I was
sure to get the sooner to heaven.
Semple was one of the faithful protesters, in the year 1657,
who were apprehended with Mr. James Guthrie, at Edingburgh, in
August, 1660 ; and, after ten months' imprisonment in the castle,
was brought l3efore the council, who threatened him severely with
death and banishment. But he answered with boldness : — " My God
will not let you either kill or ]Danish me ; I will go home and die in
peace, and my dust will lie among the bodies of my people." He
was accordingly dismissed ; and went home. When re-entering his
pulpit, he said, " I parted with thee too easily before, but I shall hang
by the wicks of thee now.'!
He was so much concerned for the salvation of his people, that,
when on his deathbed, he sent for them, and preached to them with
much fervency, showing them their miserable state by nature, and
their need of a Saviour ; with so much earnestness, expressing his
sorrow to leave many of them as graceless as he had found them, that
many wept very bitterly.
He died at Carsphairn, about the year 1677, being upwards of
seventy years of age, in much assurance of heaven ; often longing
to be there, rejoicing in the God of his salvation ; and, under great
impression of dreadful judgments to come on these covenanted
sinning lands, when scarce able to speak, he cried aloud three
times, " A Popish sword for thee, O Scotland, England, and
Ireland!" ^ ' ' b '
JAMES MITCHELL.
The earliest account we have of this eminent man is, that he received
the degree of Master of Arts, in 1656, in the University of Edin-
burgh, where he received his education for the ministry. Mr.
Leighton, afterwards archbishop, was at that time principal, who,
before conferring the degree upon the students, always tendered
them the National and Solemn Leajxue and Covenant. These cove-
JAMES MITCHELL. 473
nants Mitchell received with the most full assent of his will ; satis-
fied they contained nothing but a brief compendium of the moral
law, binding to the duties we owe to God and man, in our several
stations, and taking the king's intent to be included therein. As a
proof of his fidelity and loyalty, we may mention, that when others
were swearing fealty to Cromwell, Mitchell took the oath of alle-
giance to the king; but, how he was repaid for his faithful adherence
to the legal government the sequel will discover.
The name of this Worthy has become chiefly famous, for the bold,
but unsuccessful attempt, w^hich he made on the life of archbishop
Sharp, with the view of ridding his country of a man, whom not only
he, but thousands of the servants of God, considered as the greatest
enemy the country had, to its political and religious liberty. Apart
from this, however, altogether, the name of Mitchell deserves to be
recorded for his sufferings in the cause of Keformation.
Having received a license to preach the gospel, very soon after the
Eestoration, he was, with the rest of his faithful brethren, reduced to
many hardships and difficulties. It would appear he went to Gallo-
way, about the year 1661, with a recommendation from Mr. Trail,
one of the ministers of Edinburgh, introducing him to some pious
ministers there, as a " good youth that had not much to subsist upon,
and as fit for a school, or teaching gentlemen's children," there being
no door of access then to the ministry, for him, or any one who held
his principles, while prelacy was on the advance in Scotland.
But, whether he employed himself in teaching, or if he preached
on some occasions, where he could have opportunity, we have no cer-
tain account. We find, however, he joined with that little faithful
band, who rose in 1666 ; but he was not at the engagement at Pent-
land,* having been sent by Captain Arnot to Edinburgh, the day
before, upon some necessary business, on that emergent occasion.
However, he was excepted from the indemnity in the several lists
made out for that purpose.
Soon after the unfortunate defeat at Pentland, Mitchell went out
to Holland, from which country, after remaining about nine months,
he returned, in company with some Dutchmen from Amsterdam,
having a cargo of goods to dispose of.
His return was probably about the beginning of the year 1668, as
it was during the summer of that year he made the attempt upon the
life of Sharp. Mitchell, conceiving himself now excluded from all
mercy or favour from the government, and not having yet laid down
arms, and, taking the archbishop of St. Andrew's to be the main in-
stigator of all the oppression and bloodshed of his faithful brethren,
formed a resolution, in 1668, to despatch him. For this purpose,
upon the afternoon of the 11th of July, he waited for Sharp coming
down to his coach, at the head of Blackfriars' Wynd, in Edinburgh.
Upon this occasion Sharp was accompanied by Honeyman, bishop of
Orkney. When the archbishop entered, and had taken his seat,
Mitchell stepped to the north side of the coach, and discharged a
pistol loaded w4th three balls, in at the door — at the moment Honey-
* Wodrow thinks he was at Pentland; but in his answers before the Committee,
Mitchell says otherwise.
47i SCOTS WORTHIES.
man was setting his foot in the boot, and, when reaching up his
hand to step in, he received the shot in one of his wrists, and the
primate escaped.
Upon this, Mitchell crossed the street with much composure, till
he came to the head of Niddry's Wynd, where a man attempted to
stop him ; but upon Mitchell presenting a pistol, he let him go ; after
which he went down to the wynd, and up Stevenlaw's Close, where,
entering a house, he changed his clothes, and came straight to the
street, as being the place where he would be least suspected. A cry
then arose that a man had been killed ; upon which some replied, it
was only a bishop, and all was soon quiet. Upon Monday, the 13th,
the council issued a proclamation, oftering a reward of five thousand
marks to any that would discover the perpetrator, with pardon to
accessories ; but nothing more happened at that time.
Mitchell shifted the best way he could until the beginning of the
year 1674, when he was discovered by Sir William Sharp, the
bishop's brother ; and, before Mitchell was aware, he caused a num-
ber of his servants, armed for that purposo, to apprehend and
commit him to prison. On the 10th of February he was examined
by the lord chancellor, lord register, and lord Halton ; but he denied
the assassination of the archbishop ; however, being taken apart by
the chancellor, he confessed that it was he who shot the bishop of
Orkney, while aiming at the archbishop. This he did upon assu-
rance of his life, given by the chancellor in these words : — " Upon
my great oath and rej)utation, if I be chancellor, I will save your
life." On the 12th, he was again examined before the council ; but
said nothing more than he had done before the committee. He was,
however, remitted to the justice court to receive his indictment and
sentence, which was, — to have his right hand struck off at the cross
of Edinburgh, and his goods forfeited. This last part was not to be
executed, till his majesty's pleasure ; because, says lord Halton, in a
letter to earl Kincardine, assurance of his life was given him upon
his confession. However, he was, on the second of March, brought
before the lords of justiciary, and indicted for being concerned at
Pent] and, and for the attempt on the archbishop of St. Andrew's ;
but he pleaded. Not Guilty, and insisted, that the things alleged
against him should be proved.
The lords postponed the trial till the 25th, and in the mean time,
the council passed an act (March 12), specifying " that Mr. James
Mitchell confessed his firing the pistol at the archbishop of St. An-
drew's upon assurance given him of life by one of the committee,
who had a warrant from the lord commissioner and secret council to
grant the same ; and therefore he did freely confess, &c." In the
said act it was declared, " that on account of his refusing to adhere
to his confession, the promises made to him were void, and that the
lords of justiciary and jury ought to proceed against him, without
any regard to these." About the 25th he was brought before the
justiciary again ; but, as there was no proof against him, they, with
consent of the advocate, deserted the diet, jpro tem^ore^ and he was
remanded to prison.
Thus he continued until January 6th, 1676, when he was ordered
JAMES MITCHELL. 475
to be examined before the council bj torture, concerning his being
in the rebellion, in the year 1666. Accordingly he was brought
before them upon the 18th, about six o'clock p.m. Linlithgow, being
preses, told him he was brought before them to see whether he would
adhere to his former confession. He answered, " My lord, it is not
unknown to your lordship, and others here present, that, by the
council's order, I was remitted to the lords of justiciary, before whom
I received an indictment at my lord advocate's instance, to which
indictment I answered at three several diets ; and the last diet being
deserted by my lord advocate. I humbly conceive that, both by the
law of the nation, and the practice of this court, I ought to have
been set at liberty ; yet notwithstanding, I was, contrary to law,
equity, and justice, remanded to prison ; and upon what account I
am this night before you, I am ignorant." The preses told him, he
was only called to see if he would own his former confession. He
replied, " I know no crime I was guilty of, and therefore made no
such confession." Upon this the deputy-treasurer said : — " The
pannel is one of the most arrogant liars I have ever known."
Mitchell replied, " My lord, if there were fewer of those persons you
have been speaking of, in the nation, I should not be this night
standing at this bar ; but my lord advocate knows, that what is pro-
duced against me is not my confession." The preses then said, " Sir,
we will make you confess."
On the 22d, he was again called before the court, to see if he
would own his former confession, when a paper was produced, said
to have been subscribed by him ; but he would not acknowledge it.
'* You see what is upon the table," said the preses, pointing to the
boot, " I will see if that will make you confess !" Mitchell replied,
" My lord, I confess that by torture you may cause me to blaspheme
God, as Saul compelled the saints ; you may compel me to speak
amiss of your lordships ; to call myself a thief or a murderer, and
then pannel me on it ; but if you shall here put me to it, I protest
before God and your lordships, that nothing extorted from me, by
torture, shall be made use of against me in judgment, nor have any
force in law against me, or any other person. But to be plain with
3^ou, my lords, I am so much of a Christian, that whatever your lord-
ships shall legally prove against me, if it be truth, I shall not deny ; —
but, on the contrary, I am so much of a man, and a Scotsman, that I
never held myself obliged by the law of God, nature, and nations, to
be my own accuser." The treasurer depute said, he had the devil's
logic, and sophisticated like him — ask him, whether that be his sub-
scription ? Mitchell replied, " I acknowledge no such thing."
Upon the 24th, they again assembled in their robes in the inner
parliament house, when the boots and the executioner were again
presented. Mitchell was once more interrogated ; but still persist-
ing, he was ordered to the torture ; and, knowing that, after the man-
ner of the Spanish inquisition, the more he confessed, either concern-
ing himself or others, the more severe the torture would be to make
him confess the more, he thus addressed the court : — " My lord, I
have been now these two full years in prison, and more than one of
them in bolts and fetters, which hath been more intolerable to me than
4,76 SCOTS WORTHIES.
many deaths, if I had been capable thereof; and it i8 well known, that
some, in a shorter time, have been tempted to make away witli them-
selves ; but respect and obedience to the express law and command
of God have made me undergo all these hardships, and I hope, this
torture with patience also, that for the preservation of my own life,
and the life of others, as far as lies in my power; and to keep inno-
cent blood from your lordships' persons and families, which, by the
shedding of mine, you would doubtless bring upon yourselves and
posterity, and wrath from the Lord to the consuming thereof, till
there should be no escaping ; and now again I protest, as before.
When you please, call for the man appointed for the work." The
executioner having been called, he was tied in a two-arm chair, and
the boot brought. The executioner asked which of the legs he should
take ; and the lords bade him take any of them. The executioner
laying the left in the boot, Mitchell drew it out again, and said,
" Since the judges have not determined, take the best of the two ; for
I freely bestow it in the cause ;" and so put his right leg into the boot.
After this the advocate asked leave to speak but one word ; but, not-
withstanding, he insisted at great length, — to which Mitchell an-
swered, " The advocate's word or two has multiplied to so many,
but my memory cannot serve, in the condition in which I am, to re--
sume in particular ; but I shall essay to answer the scope of his dis-
course ; — Whereas he has been speaking of the sovereignty of the
magistrate, I shall go somewhat further than he hath done, and own
that the magistrate whom God hath appointed is God's depute ; both
the throne and the judgment are the Lord's, when he judgeth for
God, and according to his law ; and a part of this office is to deliver
the poor oppressed out of the hand of the oppressor, and shed no in-
nocent blood. And whereas the advocate has been hinting at the
sinfulness of lying on any account ; it is answered, that not only
lying is sinful, but also a pernicious speaking of the truth is a horrid
sin before the Lord, when it tendeth to the shedding of innocent
blood — as in the case of Doeg. But what my lord advocate has
forged against me is false; so that I am standing on my former
ground, viz., the preservation of my own life, and the life of others,
as far as lies in my power, — the which I am expressly commanded by
the Lord of hosts."
Upwards of thirty questions were asked at him during his torture,
of which the following are the most important ; — " Are you that Mr.
James Mitchell who was excepted out of the king's grace and favour?
I never committed any crime deserving to be excluded. — ^Were you
at the battle of Pentland ? No. — Were you at Ayr ; and did you
join the rebels there ? I never joined with any such. — Where were
you at the time of Pentland ? Li Edinburgh. — When did you know
of their rising in arms ? When the rest of the city knew it. — When
was that ? When the messenger came from Dumfries, and Dalziel,
with his forces, marched out at the West Port. — Where did yoU'
meet with James Wallace ? I knew him not at that time. — Did you
go out of town with Captain Arnot ? No."
At the beginning of the torture, he said, " My lords, not knowing
that I shall escape this torture with my life, therefore I beseech you t<
JAMES MITCHELL. 477
remember what Solomon saith, ' He wlio slioweth no mercy shall
have judgment without mercy.' And now, my lords, I do freely
from my heart forgive yon, who are sitting judges upon the bench,
and the men who are appointed to be about this horrible piece of work,
and also those who are vitiating their eyes in beholding the same ;
and I entreat that God may never lay it to the charge of any of you,
as I beg God may be pleased for Christ's sake to blot out my sins and
iniquities, and never to lay them to my charge here nor hereafter."
It is indeed true that Mitchell made a confession, upon the promise
of his life ; but the managers having revoked their promise, because
he would not adhere to his confession before the justiciary, he was
advised by some friends not too trust too much to that promise, and
be his own accuser. " The reader must determine" (says Crook-
shanks), " how far he was to blame now, in not owning his confes-
sion judicially, as they had judicially revoked the condition upon
which the confession was made ; and to put a man to torture for
finding out things for which they had not the least proof, seems to be
unprecedented and cruel ; and to bring him to a farther trial, appears
to be unjust. For, as another author has well observed, — That
when a confession or promise is made upon a condition, and that con-
dition is judicially rescinded, the obligation of the promise or con-
fession is taken away, and both parties are in statu quo. Besides,
when an open enemy perverts and overturns the very nature and
matter of a discourse or confession, by leaving out the most material
truths, and putting untruths and circumstances in their room, it no
longer is the former discourse and confession ; and when a person is
brought before a limited judicatory, before whom nothing was ever
confessed or proven, the person may justly stand to his defence, and
put his enemies to bring in proof against him."
At the close of this examination, the executioner took down his
leg from a chest on which it had been lying all the time in the boot,
and set both on the ground ; and then thrusting in the shafts to drive
the wedges, began his strokes ; at every one of which, Mitchell, when
asked if he had any more to say, answered, No ! At the ninth, he
fainted through extremity of pain ; upon which the executioner cried,
" He is gone, my lords, he is gone !" He was then ordered to
desist, and the lords walked away. After Mitchell had recovered a
little, he was carried in the same chair to the tolbooth.
Mitchell continued in prison from this time till the beginning of
next year, when he and Mr. Frazer of Brae were sent to the Bass,*
where he remained till about the 6th of December, when he was
again brought to Edinburgh, for trial ; which came on upon the 7th
of January, 1678. On the third of the same month, Sir George
Lockhart and Mr. John Ellis were appointed counsel for the pannel ;
but Sharp was determined to have his life, and Lauderdale gave way
to it. Sir Archibald Primrose furnished them with a copy of the
council's act anent Mitchell ; and a day or two before the trial, waited
upon Lauderdale, who had been summoned along with lord Rothes,
* For a most interesting account of this rock, so famous in the ecclesiastical history of
Scotland, see a volume entitled, " The Bass Rock," by Hugh Miller, Dr. McCrie, and
others, published by R. Carter & Brothers.
47$ SCOTS WORTHIES.
lord Halton, and Sharp. Primrose told Lauderdale, that he thought
a promise of life had been given ; but the latter denied it. Primrose
wished that act of council to be looked into ; but Lauderdale said he
would not give himself the trouble.
When the trial came on, the proof rested mainly on his own
confession — February 16, 1674 — and many and long were the
reasonings on the different charges in the indictment. Sir George
Lockhart defended the prisoner with great learning, to the admiration
of the audience, "that no extra-judicial confession could be allowed
as evidence, and that his confession had been extorted from him
under promise of life ; but it was overruled." So tedious were the
pleadings that the court adjourned over until the 9th, — a full report
of which will be found in Wodrow's History.
The court having reassembled on the day appointed, lord Eothes, a
crown witness, upon being shown Mitchell's confession, deponed that
he was present and saw Mitchell subscribe the same, but that he gave
him no assurance of his life ; nor did he remember any warrant given
by the council to his lordship to that effect. Halton and Lauderdale
deponed much to the same purpose; but Sharp swore distinctly, that
he knew the prisoner at the bar, at first sight, to be the person who
shot at him ; but that he either gave him assurance of life, or author-
ized any person to do so, was a false and malicious calumny — that he
gave no other promise to Nichol Somerville, than that it was his
interest to make a free confession. Somerville, however, Mitchell's
brother-in-law, deponed, that the archbishop promised to him to
secure his life, if he could induce him to confess. Shai'p denied this,
calling it a villainous lie ; and Sir William Paterson, Mr. John
Yanse, and the bishop of Galloway, all swore in Sharp's favour, — it
being dangerous for them to do otherwise.
At the close of the pleadings Mitchell produced a copy of an act
of council issued against him on the 12th of March, 1674, in which
the promise of an assurance of life was distinctly recognised ; and
requested that the original might either be produced, or the clerk
permitted to furnish extracts; but this was also overruled on the
ground of infoniiality.
The jury were therefore enclosed, and ordered to return their
verdict next afternoon, which they did ; and Mitchell was brought in
Guilty. Sentence was accordingly pronounced, "That Mr. James
Mitchell be taken to the Grassmarket of Edinburgh, upon Friday, the
18th of January instant, betwixt two and four of the clock in the
afteraoon, and there hanged on a gibbet till he be dead, and all his
moveables, goods, and gear, escheat, and in-brought to his majesty's
use." Ko sooner did the court break up, than the lords found the act
recorded, and signed by lord Rothes, the president of the council. —
"This action," says Burnet, "and all concerned in it, were looked on
by the people with horror; and it was such a complication of
treachery, perjury and cruelty, as the like had not perhaps been
knowti."
Two days after the sentence, orders came from court for placing
Mitchell's head and hands on some public place of the city ; but the
sentence being passed, no alteration could be made. About the same
JAMES MITCHELL. 479
time, Lis wife petitioned the council that her husband might be
reprieved for some time, that she might see him and take her last
farewell especially as it was not above twelve days since she had been
delivered of a child, and at the time afflicted with a fever; but no
regard was paid to it.
Such was the end of this zealous and faithful servant of God, after
four 3'ears' unrelenting persecution. That he was a truly pious man,
notwithstanding the foul aspersions that were cast upon him by
his enemies, all contemporary w^riters agree in maintaining, by his
faithful contendings for the reformed and covenanted Church of
Scotland. The attempt which he made upon the life of Sharp is the
only act that stands in need of vindication. And, the reader cannot^
fail to have observed, that Mitchell looked upon himself as in a state
of hostilities ; and, considering Sharp as one of the chief instigators
of the tyranny, oppression, and bloodshed, with which the country
was then visited, he thought he had a right to take every opportunity
of cutting him off, and the more especially, as no redress was to be
found in the courts of justice. This, however, furnishes no plea for
any private person taking it upon himself to avenge his wrongs,
where access can be had to a lawful magistrate. Mitchell, in his own
vindication, observes, " that the seducer, or adviser to a false worship,
was to be put to death, and that by the hands of the witness." Such
he considers to have been his own case ; and remarks farther, "that
the bishops would say w^hat they did w^as by law and authority ;
but what he did was contrary to both;" and adds — "The king
himself, and all the estates of the land, both were and are obliged, by
the oath of God upon them, to extirpate the perjured prelates and
prelacy ; and, in doing so, to have defended one another with their
lives and fortunes. — The Covenants," he continues, " were made upon
these terms, — after supplications, remonstrances, protestations, and all
other lawful means have been used to that effect — as the last remedy
WQ took up arms ; upon which condition, our nobilit}'-, and all the
representatives of the nation, according to the I^ational Covenant,
and Solemn League and Covenant, gave to the king both the sword
and sceptre, and set the crown upon his head ; and he accordingly
received them, and promised and swore by the ever living God, to
use and improve them for the use aforesaid ; and especially in order
to the performing of this article, the extirpation and overthrow of
prelacy."
While in prison, he emitted a most ample testimony, which is to
be found in ISTaphtali, wherein he testifies against all profanity ; and,
as the cause of all his sufferings, quotes the words of Elijah, — " I
have been very zealous for the Lord of hosts." In testifying against
the givers and receivers of the indulgence, as an encroachment upon
Christ's crown and prerogative, he protests before God, angels, and
men, against all acts derogatory to the work of God and reformation ;
and also against all banishments, fines, and imprisonments, to which
the people of God had been subjected for many years. When speak
ing of his own sufferings, he says : — " E'ow, if the Lord, in his wise
and overruling providence, bring me to the close of my pilgrimage,
the full enjoyment of my long looked for and desired happiness, let
480 SCOTS WORTHIES.
him take his own way and time in bringing me to it. And, in the
mean time, O thon, my soul ! sing thou the song, — Spring thou up, O
well of my happiness and salvation, of my eternal hope and consola-
tion!— ana whilst thou art burdened with the clog of this clay taber-
nacle, dig deep in it by faith, hope, and charity ; and, with all the
instruments that God hath given thee, dig in it by precepts and pro-
mises ; dig carefully, and dig continually, — aye and until thou come
to the head and source of the Fountain himself, from whence the
water of life floweth. Dig till thou come to the assembly of the first-
born, where this song is most suitably sung to the praise and glory of
the rich grace and mercy of the Fountain of life." — When speaking of
his mortification to the world, and other Christian experiences, he
says : — " Although, O Lord, thou shouldst send me in the back tract
and tenor of my life, to seek my soul's encouragement and comfort
from them ; yet I have no cause to complain of hard dealing from
thy hand, seeing it is thy ordinary way with some of thy people, — O
God, my soul is cast down in me, from the land of Jordan, and the
hill of Hermon, — yea, though last, he brought me to the banqueting-
house, and made love his banner over me among the cold Highland
hills beside Kippen, in November, 1673, he remembered his former
lovingkindness to me ; but withal, he spoke in my ear, that there was
a tempestuous storm to meet me in the face which I behoved to go
through, in the strength of that provision." — After reciting several
texts of scripture, as consolatory to him in his sufferings, he concludes
at last in the following words : — " And, seeing I have not preferred
nor sought after my own things ; but thy honour and glory ; the
good, liberty, and safety, of thy church and people, — although it be
now misconstrued by many, yet I hope that thou, O Lord, wilt make
thy light to break forth as the morning, and thy righteousness as the
noon-day ; and that shame and darkness shall cover all who are
enemies to thy righteous cause. For thou, O Lord, art the shield of
my head, and sword of my excellency ; and mine enemies shall be
found liars, and shall be subdued. Amen and Amen !"
The sentence must be put in execution, without delay ; and accord-
ingly, upon the 18th of January, he was taken to the Grassmarket of
Edinburgh, where he sealed his adherence to the cause of the Refor-
mation, with his blood — a victim to the most cruel persecution that
ever stained the annals of any age or country.
COLONEL JAMES WALLACE. 481
COLONEL JAMES WALLACE.
James Wallace, our next worthy, was a brave soldier and an emi-
nent saint. He was descended from an ancient and influential family
in Ayrshire. Auchans, in the parish of Dundonald, had long been
the patrimonial seat of the Wallaces. The subject of this memoir
entered the army early in life ; and, by his bravery, and consistent
deportment, rapidly rose to the rank of lieutenant-colonel. His
brother ofiicers In the parliamentary forces held him in great respect ;
and he was deservedly popular among the soldiers. In 1642, he be-
longed to the marquis of Argyle's regiment which was sent in that
year to quell the troubles in Ireland. He was recalled in 1645, to
oppose the victorious progress of Montrose, and shortly after he was
taken prisoner at the battle of Kilsyth. When Charles the Second
came to Scotland, in 1650, the parliament ordered two regiments of
life guards to be imbodied, one of horse and the other of foot. In
conformity with special instructions, these regiments were formed of
the choicest troops. Lord Lorn was appointed colonel, and Wallace
lieutenant-colonel of the foot regiment of guards. Our Worthy was
present at the battle of Dunbar, so disastrous to the Scots, and he was
a second time taken prisoner. Lord Lorn strongly recommended him
to the notice of parliament for promotion, as well as an equitable
compensation for great losses which he had sustained. It does not
appear, however, that government ever rewarded his patriotic ser-
vices, or indemnified his private loss.
Wallace lived in retirement after the Restoration, till the year
1666, when he came forth from his seclusion as the determined
asserter of his country's liberties. He was placed at the head of the
presbyterian forces, who reluctantly had recourse to arms at the
battle of Pentland.
" In accepting the dangerous post to which he was chosen," says
Dr. M'Crie, " Wallace could be actuated only by the most disinter-
ested motives. He had no private quarrel to revenge ; he had given
no personal offence to the government ; and, as he was not involved in
the circumstances which led to the first rising, he had no cause to be
alarmed for his own safety. The j^rospects, when he first engaged in
the design, were far from being flattering, especially to one of his
knowledge and experience in military affairs, and he had it in his
power to retire, as others did, after he reached the west, and saw the
real state of those who were in arms. Nor was his conduct, during
the short time that he commanded, discreditable to his military
31
483 SCOTS WORTHIES.
talents ; especially when we take into consideration the small num-
ber of men which he had under him, the miserable manner in which
most of them were equipped, and the want of inferior officers to con-
duct. ' Wallace himself was a gentleman godly and resolute ; but
such an undertaking was for a man of miracles.' By the line of
march which he chose, he gave an opportunity to the friends of the
cause, in the most populous counties, if they had been disposed, to
join its standard, lie prevented general Dalziel from obtaining that
advantage which he sought, for attacking him during his march. If
the government had been disposed to suppress the insurrection witli-
out bloodshed, he gave them an opportunity of accomplishing this by
the moderate letter which he sent to the general of the royal forces.
The ground which he chose on Kullion Green, and the disposition
which he made of his men, was the very best, when he had to oppose
an enemy three times the number of his own troops. By fighting at
the time he did, instead of delaying, as he knew he could easily do,
he provided for the better escape of his men, in the event of their
being worsted ; and, indeed, the loss actually sustained was less than
it would in probability have been, if, without engaging, he had dis-
banded his army during the night. The battle of Pentland-hills was
a well-fought field, not a disgraceful rout, like that which afterwards
happened, under a very different leader, at Bothwell-bridge.
*' On the loss of the battle, colonel Wallace left the field in com-
pany with Mr. John Welsh, and escaped the pursuit of the enemy.
After riding to a sufficient distance, they turned their horses adrift,
and slept during the remainder of the night in a barn. Having con-
cealed himself for some time, Wallace at last got safely out of the
kingdom. The battle of Pentland was fought on the 28th of JN'ovem-
ber ; and on the 4th of December, the privy council issued a procla-
mation prohibiting all persons from harbouring or corresponding with
colonel Wallace, or any of those who had been in arms with him,
under the pain of being treated as accessory to the late rebellion.
On the loth of August, Wallace, and six others who had absconded, ,
were found guilty, and condemned to be executed as traitors, whenj
they shall be apprehended, and all their lauds and goods to be for-
feited to his majesty's use. This sentence was ratified by parliament
in 1669 ; but was rescinded at the Revolution."
For several years colonel Wallace was obliged to wander from ones
part of the continent to another for the sake of security. For the-
same reason he assumed the name of Forbes. In the year 1670, hej
was on the borders of Germany. When he thought the search after j
him had relaxed, he settled in Holland, taking up his residence ati
Rotterdam. Even there he was not permitted to remain unmolested.]
He attended the stated ministrations of Messrs. Robert MacWard and!
John Hog, of the Scottish Church in that city ; and, to the joy of hisi
expatriated clerical and lay brethren, Wallace was induced tounder-L
take the office of elder. The congregation, however, was not to be!
long favoured with the acceptable services of colonel Wallace, and
his beloved pastor Mr. MacWard.' They, as well as Mr. John Brown,
formerly minister of Wamphray, were obnoxious to Charles, whd
could not brook the idea that they should be comfortable and re^
COLONEL JAMES WALLACE. 4S3
spected in the land of their adoption. It is notorious that the king,
if he did not originate, heartily entered into every measure suggested
for the annoyance or destruction of his nonconforming presbyterian
subjects. It might have been thought, now that these good men
had exiled themselves, that the active persecution would be stayed.
But it was far otherwise. The British cabinet, we verily believe, never
gave a greater proof of its weakness and implacability than it did in
the present instance. Spurred on by Sharp, the king wrote a holo-
graph letter to the States-General, entreating them forthwith to expel
from the United Provinces, Robert MacWard, John Brown, and
colonel James Wallace, whom he characterized as rebels, unworthy of
the least countenance ; and urging the States, if they had any respect
for his request, to lose no time in complying with it. But the States-
General, to their honour, were not to be hurried into an unjustifiable
measure, merely to gratify the resentment of the king and his minis-
ters. They properly viewed a compliance with the request of Charles
as leading to encroachments on their prerogative, and accordingly
enjoined their ambassador in London to acquaint his majesty, that
the States-General did not feel at liberty to molest the individuals
referred to, or, indeed, any one who, for similar reasons, sought re-
fuge in the [N'etherlands. IS'either did they wish to become the in-
struments of uncalled-for oppression in the hand of an English
monarch, whose jurisdiction, they conceived, did not extend into
foreign territories, and in whose unreasonable demands, especially,
they respectfully, yet pointedly, declined acquiescing. Charles, how-
ever, was not so easily to be rebuffed. By his extreme urgency, and
the extravagant colouring which he gave the whole affair, represent-
ing it as a matter that involved his personal safety, and the peace
of the realm, the States were at length induced, as mediators, to de-
vise some measure, in order, if possible, to pacify his majesty, and to
convince the accused, that the Dutch government were exceedingly
averse to interfere.
King Charles continued so to annoy the Dutch government, that
the States, unwilling to incur his majesty's threatened displeasure,
and even hostility, came to the following resolution on the 6th Feb-
ruary, 16Y7 : — " It is found good hereby to declare, that although the
aforesaid three Scotsmen have not only not behaved and comported
themselves otherwise than as became good and faithful citizens of
these States, but have also given many indubitable proofs of their
zeal and affection for the advancement of the truth, which their High
Mightinesses have seen with pleasure, and could have wished that
they could have continued to live here in peace and security. Con-
sidering the risks they run, however, and with what pressing earnest-
ness his majesty had repeatedly insisted, by three several missives,
and verbally through his envoy extraordinary, and with great reason
apprehending a breach between his majesty and these States, as Sir
William Temple has expressed himself on the subject in terms that
cannot be mistaken, they feel themselves necessitated, in order to
obviate so great an evil at this conjunctul^e, to cause the foresaid three
Scotsmen to withdraw from this country ; and that, consequently, notice
shall be given to the foresaid James Wallace^ Robert MacWard, and
484: SCOTS WORTHIES.
John Brown, in order that they mav be able to avail themselves of
the good intentions of their High Mightinesses, in having their effects
properly disposed of before the 5th of March next ; and for this end,
an extract of this resolution of their H. M. shall be sent to the coun-
sellors of the States of Holland, and AVest Friesland, in order that
due notification may be given, and the foresaid Scotsmen may regu-
late their proceedings accordingly. They shall also find enclosed for
their behoof, separate instruments ad omnes vopvloa^'' &c.
The instrument referred to in the preceding decree, so far as re-
lated to colonel Wallace, was in these terms ; and Messrs. MacWard
and Brown had each one to the same purport : —
" The States General of the United Netherlands, to all and every
one who shall see or read these presents, health.
" Be it known and certified, that James Wallace, gentleman, our
subject, and for many years inhabitant of this State, lived among us
highly esteemed for his probity, submission to the laws, and integrity
of manners. And, therefore, we have resolved affectionately to request,
and hereby do most earnestly request, the Emperor of the Romans, and
all Kings, Republics, Princes, Dukes, States, Magistrates, or whomso-
ever else, our friends, and all that shall see these presents, that they
receive the said James Wallace in a friendly manner, whensoever he
may come to them, or resolve to remain with them, and assist him with
their council, help, and aid ; testifying that for any obliging, humane,
or kindly ofiices done to him, we shall be ready and forward to return
the favour to them and their subjects whensoever an opportunity offers.
For the greater confirmation whereof, we have caused these presents
to be sealed with our seal of office, and signed by the president of our
assembly, and have ordered them to be countersigned by our first
secretary, in our assembly, the sixth day of February, 1677."
The fact that the States refused the demand of king Charles,
coupled with the above ample certificate in favour of those whom he
bitterly accused, convincingly shows the extreme reluctance of the
Dutch government to comply. But the report which Sir William
Temple made to his court must not be omitted. His words are re-
markable : — " This business hath been the hardest piece of negotia-
tion that I ever yet entered upon here, both from the particular in-
terests of the towns and provinces of Holland, and the general esteem
they have of Mac Ward being a very quiet and pious man ; but chiefly
from the firm persuasion they have, of not being obliged to it by any
bare letter of his majesty, without any sentence having passed against
them by which they are adjudged rebels and fugitives. And, on the
contrary, after a sentence of banishment against Mac Ward and Brown,
which, they say, is by all writers esteemed wholly to extinguish their
subjection, and, consequently, his majesty's right of declaring tbei
rebels after they are banished and become subjects to another stal
But I found the king's honour so far engaged in this matter, by thrc
several letters which must have been public, that I have left no soi
of arguments unessayed with the prince, the pensioner, and deputii
both of the provinces and towns, to procure his majesty's satisfactic
and make it pass for a thing so necessary to despatch, that it hal
taken up two long debates in the States of Holland these two da;
COLONEL JAMES WALLACE. 485
past, thougli their meeting was intended but for five days, and foi no
other business bnt the levies of moneys necessary for the campaign."
The Scottish kirk-session, at Rotterdam, recorded their nnfeigned
sorrow in being deprived of colonel "Wallace, " the most painful and
useful elder they had amongst them." Mr. Mac Ward retired to
Utrecht, or its immediate neighbourhood, along with Mr. Brown and
colonel "Wallace. The colonel, who was particularly obnoxious to
Charles, by reason of the active share which he took against the royal
cause at Pentland, did not consider himself safe, even in the desirable
society and prudent seclusion of his two clerical friends. He, there-
fore, reluctantly quitted them and hastened to a more secure conceal-
ment on the borders of France.
Colonel "Wallace's name was continued on the sessional roll.*
During his seclusion he addreSed the subjoined letter, which throws
light on his character and circumstances, to the widow of "William
Mure of Caldwell, then residing in Rotterdam :
" Elect lady, and my worthy and dear sister, — Yours is come to
my hand in most acceptable time. It seems that all that devils or
men these many years have done (and that has not been little) against
you, to daunt your courage, or to make you in the avowing of your
Master and his persecuted interests to lower your sails, has prevailed
so little, that your faith and courage is upon the growing hand, an
evidence indeed as to your persecutors, of perdition, but to you of
salvation and that of God. It seems when you at first by choice
took Christ by the hand to be your Lord and portion, that you
wist what you did ; and that, notwithstanding of all the hardnesses
you have met with in biding by him, your heart seems to cleave the
faster to him. This says you have been admitted unto much of his
company and fellowship. My soul blesses God on your behalf, who
hath so carried to you, that I think you may take those words among
others spoken to you, ' You have continued with me in my afiiic-
tions : I appoint unto you a kingdom.' It seems, suffering for Christ,
losing anything for him, is to you your gain. More and more of
this spirit may you enjoy, that you may be among the few (as it was
said of Caleb and Joshua) that follow him fully, among the over-
comers, those noble overcomers mentioned. Revel, ii. and iii., among
those to whom only (as picked out and chosen for that end) he is say-
ing, ' You are my witnesses.' Lady, and my dear sister, I am of
your judgment, and I bless his name that ever he counted me worthy
to appear in that roll. It is now a good many years since the Master
* "The Session (March 18, 1677,) taking into consideration the great loss the congrega-
tion is at by being deprived of their brother, Mr. Wallace, who made it his work from day
to day to visit families, instructing in the principles of religion, and exhorting them to the
exercise of family- worship, and all Christian duties, appoints that some expedient means
may be thought upon to supply this great defect, which the session doth judge very expe-
dient; and that, because the said Mr. Wallace, in presence of all the session, spme few
dayes before he went awaj', did declare, that through mercy he had found his paines, both
in his visitations of families, and at his own chamber, in some more successful, than he had
expected, which he earnestly intreated might be intertained, lest the beginnings of some
warmth and affection to the truth he had found in many, might coole again."
The Session (January 1678) "unanimously concluded, that there should be five elders,
besides Mr. Wallace, ivhom yet they own as such, notwithstanding; of what is gone against him;
and also five deacons." — See Dr. Steven's Hist, of the Scottish Church in Rotterdam^ p. 50.
486 SCOTS WORTHIES.
was pleased to even me to this, and to call me fortli to appear for
him ; and it is true those forty years bygone, (as to what I have met
with from the world,) I have been as the people in the wilderness ;
yet I may say it, to this hour, I never repented my engagements to
iiim, or any of my ownings of him ; yea these rebuts, to say so, I got
from men were to me my joy and crown, because I know it was for
his sake I was so dealt with ; and this, it being for his sake, I was
ready in that case (as Christ says) when men had taken me upon the
one cheek, for his sake, to turn to them the other. Never was I ad-
mitted to more nearness, never was my table better covered than since
I left Rotterdam. Let ns take courage, and go on as good soldiers of
Jesus Christ, enduring hardness. O for more faith ! O for more faith
among his people ! As to this people, there is nothing to be seen in
their way that is promising of any good ; but on the contrary, 0 ! I
fear the Lord has given them up unto their own hearts' lusts. They
do indeed walk in their own counsels. That same spirit of persecu-
tion, and these same principles, that are among you are here ; but as
God is faithful, they shall be all broken to pieces, and turned back
with shame, that hate Zion. "Wait but a little ; they are digging the '
pit for themselves. The Lord hath founded Zion, and the poor of the
people shall trust it. Let us mind one another. My love to all
friends whom you know I love in the Lord. God's grace be with
you, and his blessing upon your little ones, whom he hath been a '
father to. In him I rest. Yours as formerly,
" Ja. "Wallace."
Colonel "Wallace returned to Eotterdam in 1678 ; but, to the un-
speakable grief of the congregation, died there at the close of the
same year. In discharging the duties of ruling elder in the Scottish
Church, he was beyond all praise. Like his divine Master he went
about continually doing good ; and the spontaneous testimonies borne
to his patriotism, and his unwearied zeal for the furtherance of vital
godliness among the flock over whom he jointly presided, entitle him
to be held in grateful remembrance. The colonel rightly viewed the
duties of an elder as involving obligations more sacred and binding
than the world generally regards this ecclesiastical oflice as embracing.
He studied, as every conscientious man will, who enters into a simi-
lar engagement, to attend to those apostolic injunctions which St.
Paul has recorded for the direction of the successive overseers in the
church of God. This excellent person expired in the arms of his
tried friend, Mr. Mac Ward, who has given a particular account of the
colonel's triumphant death in the following letter to the Rev. John
Blackadder, minister of Troqueer : — " I doubt not but you have
heard of the removal of worthy and great Wallace, of whom I have
no doubt it may be said he hath left no man behind him in that
church, minister nor professor, who hath gone through such a variety
of tentations, without turning aside to the right hand or to the left.
He died in great serenity of soul. He had lived abroad such an orna-
ment to his profession, as he was not more lamented by us than by
all the serious English and Dutch of his acquaintance, (who were
manv,") as having lost the man, who as a mean vras made use of by
JOHN WELWOOD. 487
the Lord to keep life amongst them ; yea, the poor ignorant people
of the congregation of Rotterdam, (besides the more serious and know-
ing amongst them,) bemoan his death, and their loss as of a father.
And they have good reason ; for I must say, he was the most faith-
ful, feckful, compassionate, diligent, and indefatigable elder, in the
work of the Lord, that ever I knew at home or abroad ; and as for
his care, solicitude, and concernedness, in the work and people of
God, I may say, the care of all the churches lay more upon him than
upon hundreds of us, so that the church of God hath lost more in the
removal of that man than most will suffer themselves to believe.
Only we who know it, have this to comfort ourselves, that the residue
of the Spirit is with him who made him such, and that the Great In-
tercessor lives to plead his owm cause, and the causes of his people's
souls. I forgot to tell you, that when the cause for which he suffered
was mentioned, when it was scarce believed he understood or could
speak, there was a sunshine of serene joy looked out of his counte-
nance, and a lifting up of hands on high, as to receive the confessor's
crown, together with a lifting up of the voice with an AJia^ as to sing the
conqueror's song of victory. In a word, he fell asleep in the furnace,
walking with the Son of God, and now his bones will rise up with the
bones of the other great witnesses buried in a strange land, as a testi-
mony against the wrong done to Christ, and the violence used against
his followers by this wicked generation, whom the righteous Lord in
his time, from him who sitteth upon the throne to the meanest instru-
ment that hath put the mischiefs he framed into a law in execution,
will make a generation of his wrath, of special wrath, which must
answer and keej) proportion unto the wrongs done to the Mediator."
JOHN WELWOOD.
This intrepid servant of Christ was son of the Rev. James Welwood,
sometime minister at Tindergarth, in the county of Dumfries, and
brother to Messrs. Andrew^ and James Welwood, doctors of medicine
in London. The subject of this brief narrative was born about the
year 1649. After having gone through a regular course of training
for the ministry, he received his license ; but, on account of the tur-
bulence of the times, it does not appear that he was ever ordained to
any particular incumbency. Mention is indeed made of his having
488 SCOTS WORTHIES.
preached five or six times for his father, in the parish of Tindergarth.
On these occasions his sermons are said to have been blessed with
more marked effects of good among the people there, than had been
discernible in the labours of his father during the whole course of his
ministry.
Besides his eminent piety and faithfulness in preaching, Welwood
was singularly fervent in pressing home the duties of the Christian
life; and particularly, in instituting and encouraging fellowship and
social meetings for prayer and conference, which he frequently
attended himself. Upon one occasion, among many others, at New-
house, in the parish of Livingstone, the night being far advanced, he
said, " Let some one pray, and be short, that we may get to our
apartments before it be light !" It happened, however, to be the turn
of a person who excelled in the gift of prayer ; and, before he was
done, daylight had shone into the house. " James, James," said
"Welwood, " your gifts have the start of your graces !" and to the rest
his counsel was : — " Be advised, all of you, not to follow him at all
times, and in all things, otherwise there will be many outs and ins in
your tract !"
In 1677, there was held an Erastian meeting of the actually
indulged and non-indulged ministers, got up by the indulged party,
in order, as they pretended, to bring about and establish a union
between the parties ; but rather, in reality, a conspiracy without the
smallest semblance of honour, or veracity. Welwood, Mr. Cameron,
and another minister, were called before the meeting, and threatened
with deposition, for their freedom in preaching up separation from
the actually indulged ; but these men declined their jurisdiction, as
being no lawful judicatory of Jesus Christ ; composed as it was of
men against whom they had lifted up a testimony. At this crisis,
some of the indulged party waited upon Mr. Hog, who had not been
at the meeting, to ask his advice regarding Welwood ; to whom Mr.
Hog returned the following laconic reply : — " His name is Welwood ;
but if you take the injudicious step of deposing him, he may perhaps
turn out the Torwood in the end."
Soon after this, it would appear that Welwood had received a call
from the parish of Tarbolton, in Ayrshire ; or, to adopt the language
of the dominant party of the day — " had intruded upon that parish
and congregation." Information to that effect, says Wodrow, was
lodged against him, before the council at Edinburgh, on the 1st of
November, who immediately appointed lords Glencairn and Kothes to
see that he was turned out and apprehended ; but what was the result
cannot now be learned, as Wodrow makes no farther mention of it.
It has been ascertained, however, that he continued to preach ; and
the following are the principal gleanings that have been picked up.
When going to preach one Sabbath morning, the laird, on whose
ground the tent had been erected, caused it to be removed, and set
up on the property of another proprietor. Welwood having observed
this, remarked very coolly, — that in a short time that same laird would
not have a furrow of land that he could call his own : — " Let alone a
little," said he, " and he will turn out in his true colours !" — and so it
actually happened ; for, having soon after been convicted of adultery,
JOHN WELWOOD. 489
he became most contemptible and miserable, being, as was said at
the time, one of York's fom'-poiind papists.
About two years after this, perceiving the indications of a bright
day about to dawn upon the persecuted church, he said to one
William Nicholson, a native of Fife : — "Ye shall have a brave
summer of the gospel this year ; and for your further encouragement,
even an old man or woman may live to see the bishops down, and
yet the church not delivered : but ere all be done, we will get a few
faithful ministers in Scotland. But keep still amongst the faithful
mourning remnant that is for God ; for there is a cloud coming on the
church of Scotland, the like of which was never heard of; for the
most part will turn to defection. But I see, on the other side of it,
the church's delivery, w^ith ministers and Christians, such as you
would be ashamed to open your mouth before !"
Among his last public appearances, he preached at Boulterhall in
Fife, from these words, — " 'Not many wise men after the flesh, not
many mighty, not many noble, are called ;"* in which he wished
that all the Lord's people, w^hom he had placed in stations of distinc-
tion both there and everywhere, would express their thankfulness,
that the words not mmiy were not not any^ and that the wJiole of
them were not excluded. Towards the close of the sermon, he said,
" If that unhappy prelate. Sharp, die the death of all men, God never
spoke by me." The archbishop had a servant, who, upon liberty
from his master on Saturday night, had gone to visit his brother, who
was a servant to a gentleman near Boulterhall. Kext day he accom-
panied his brother to church, and Welwood, having observed a per-
son with Sharp's livery, he desired him to stand up ; for he had
something to say to him. " I desire you," said he, " before all these
witnesses, when thou goest home, to tell thy master, that his treachery,
tyranny, and wicked life, are near an end ; and his death shall be
both sudden, surprising, and bloody ; and as he hath thirsted after,
and shed the blood of the saints, he shall not go to his grave in
peace !" After he had returned home, the bishop asked the young
man at supper if he had been at a conventicle ; to which he replied,
he had; and, having told his master the text, and several things con-
nected with the discourse, he at length particularly delivered the
message w^ith which he had been intrusted. Sharp pretended to
treat it lightly ; but his wife said, " I advise you to take more notice
of that ; for I hear that these men's words are not vain words."
Soon after this Welwood went to visit Perth, where he lodged in
the house of one John Barclay. This it appears was his last journey
in the service of his Master. Being naturally of a delicate constitu-
tion, and having, previously, been exposed to many privations, added
to a deep concern about the state of his soul and those of others ; be-
sides being greatly depressed in spirit on account of the afflicted state
of the church, a gradual decay began to steal upon him^ in which he
lingered until the beginning of April, when death relieved him of all
his earthly cares and sufferings. During the time of his illness, so long
as he w^as able to speak, he laid himself out for the good of souls.
Kone but such as were looked upon to be friends to the persecuted
* 1 Cor. i. 26.
490 SCOTS WORTHIES.
cause knew that lie was in town ; and his practice was to call them
in, one family after another, at different times, and discourse to them
about their spiritual state. His conversation was convincing, editj-
ing, and comforting. Many came to visit him ; and, among the rest,
one Ayton, younger of Inchdarney in Fife, a pious youth about
eighteen years of age, to whom, on his giving him an account of the
great tyranny and wickedness of prelate Sharp, Welwood said : —
" You will shortly be (^uit of him : and he will get a sudden and
sharp off-going ; and you will be the first that will take the good
news of his death to heaven !" This literally came to pass the May
following.
About the same time, he said to another person who came to visit
him : — " That many of the Lord's people should be in arms that
summer for the defence of the gospel ; but he was fully persuaded
they would work no deliverance ; and that, after the fall of that
party, the public standard of the gospel should fall for some time, so
that there should not be a faithful minister in Scotland, excepting
two, to whom they could resort, to hear or converse with anent the
state of the church ; and they would also seal the testimony with
their blood — that after this there should be a dreadful defection and
apostasy ; but God would pour out his wrath upon the enemies of
his church and people, when many who had made defections from
his way, should fall among the rest in this common calamity; but
this stroke, he thought, would not be long ; and, upon the back
thereof, there would be the most glorious deliverance and reformation
that ever was in Britain, after which the church should never be
troubled any more with prelacy."
"When drawing near his end, in conversation with some friends, he
used frequently to communicate his own exercise and experience,
with the assurance he had obtained of his interest in Christ; saying,
I have no more doubt of my interest in Christ, than if I were in
heaven already." At another time he said : — " Although I have
been for some weeks without sensible comforting presence, yet I have
not the least doubt of my interest in Christ : I have often endeavoured
to pick a hole in my interest, but cannot get it done." On the morn-
ing of his death, when he observed the light of day, he said : — " ]^ow
eternal light, and no more night and darkness for me ;" and, that
night, he exchanged a weak body, a wicked world, and a weary life,
for an immortal crown of glory, in that heavenly inheritance which
is prepared and reserved for such.
The night after his death, the body was removed from John Bar-
clay's house into a private room, belonging to one Janet Hutton, till
his friends might consult about his funeral ; that Barclay might not
be put to trouble for concealing him. A report was quickly spread,
that an intercommuned preacher had died in town, upon which the
magistrates ordered a messenger to go and arrest the corpse. [N'ext
day, a considerable number of his friends, from Fife, came to town
to attend his burial ; but the magistrates would not suffer him to be
interred in Perth. In support of their authority they ordered the
town militia to be called out, and imprisoned John Bryce, boxmaster
or treasurer to the guildry, for refusing to give out their arms. How-
WILLIAM GORDON OF EARLSTOUN. 491
ever, tbey at length gave his friends leave to carry the body out of
town, and bury it beyond the precincts, in any place they chose; but
any of the inhabitants who were observed accompanying the funeral,
were imprisoned. After they had gone out of town, his friends sent
two men to Drone, not far from Perth, to prepare a grave in the
church-yard of that place. These men went to Mr. Pitcairn the
minister — one of the old resolutioners — and desired the keys of the
church-yard gate of the parish, but he refused to give them. They
went over the wall, however, and dug a grave ; and there repose in
peace the ashes of this zealous servant of God.
Only one of his sermons has appeared in print, said to have been
preached at Bogle's-hole, a farm in the upper ward of Lanarkshire,
from the words of Peter, — " And if the righteous scarcely be saved,
where. shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?"
It is said that a few of his religious letters to pious friends and
acquaintances are yet extant, in manuscript ; but nothing remarkable
may now be expected, either in the writings of Welwood, or any of
the succeeding Worthies. The times in which they lived were so
peculiarly harassing, owing to the persecutions that were instituted
against them, by being hunted from place to place, that they could
neither find time nor opportunity for writing ; and, not unfrequently,
any small fragments they might from time to time have collected,
having been intrusted to the hands of timid or false friends, were by
them either destroyed or lost.
WILLIAM GORDON OF EARLSTOUN.
WiLLL^M Gordon- of Earlstoun was son to the renowned reformer,
Alexander Gordon of Earlstoun, and was lineally descended from
the well-known Alexander Gordon who entertained the followers of
John Wickliffe, and who, having a l^ew Testament in English, used
to read it at their meetings at the wood of Airds, in the vicinity of
Earlstoun. Having thus had the advantage of a religious education,
he began very early to follow Christ. In 1637, Mr. Eutherford in his
letters thus admonishes him : — " Sir, lay the foundation thus, and ye
shall not soon shrink nor be shaken; make tight work at the
bottom, and your ship shall ride against all storms, — if withal your
anchor be fastened on good ground, I mean within the vail !'' And
492 SCOTS WORTHIES.
indeed, by the blessing of God, he began, when quite a youth, to
distinguish himself by his piety and religion, as well as by a firm
attachment to Presbytery, and the covenanted work of Reformation ;
in which he continued steadfast and immovable, till he lost his life in
the honourable cause.
What hand he had in public affairs, during Cromwell's usurpation,
cannot now well be said ; but we may suppose him to have been on
the side of the remonstrants. The first public testimony he gave, after
the restoration of Charles IT., recorded in history, was about 16G3,
when some commissioners, appointed by the council to inquire into
the opposition then made by the people to the settlement of curates
at Kircudbriglit and Irongray — knowing Gordon's attachment to the
presbyterian interest — Vvcre determined either to compel his acqui-
escence in settling an episcopalian incumbent in the parish of Dairy
in Galloway, where, by the once established laws, he had some right
in presenting ; or, if he refused to concur, which they had every
reason to suspect he would, to bring him to furtlier trouble. Accord-
ingly, the commissioners wrote him a letter in the following tenor : —
" Finding the church of Dairy to be one of those to which the bishop
hath presented an actual minister, Mr. George Henry, fit and qualified
for the charge, and that the gentleman is to come to your parish this
Sabbath next, to preach to that people, and that you are a person of
special interest there, we do require you to cause this edict to be
served, and the congregation to convene and countenance him, so as
to be encouraged to prosecute his ministry in that place. Your
loving friends and servants,
" Linlithgow, Galloway,
" Annandale, Dkumlanaek."
To this letter Earlstoun returned a very respectful answer, showing,
upon solid reasons, why he could not comply with their unjust
demand : — " I ever judged it safest to obey God, and stand at a
distance from whatsoever doth not tend to God's glory, and the
edification of the souls of his scattered people, of which that
congregation is a part. And besides, my lords, it is known to many
that I pretend to lay claim to the right of patronage of that parish,
and have already determined therein, with the consent of the people,
to a truly worthy and qualified person, that he may be admitted to
exercise his gifts among that people ; and for me to countenance the
bearer of your lordships' letter, were most impiously and dishonour-
ably to wrong the majesty of God, and violently to take away the
Christian liberty of his afflicted people, and enervate my own
right."*
This was just what they wanted; for, on the 30th of July
following, " The lords of Council ordered letters to be directed, to
charge XV'illiam Gordon of Earlstoun to compear before them, to
♦ Here observe, that though this gentleman mentions the right of patronage, yet it was
with this proviso or limitation, — the choice or consent of the people , otherwise, says he,
it would wrong the majesty of God, take away the Christian liberty of the people, and
invalidate his own right: and how unlike is this to the species of patronage and claim of
patrons at this time, when nothing but absolute power and arbitrary measures will satisfy
them.
WILLIAM GORDON OF EARLSTOUN. 493
answer for his seditious and factious carriage :" in other words,
his refusing to comply with prelacy ; to hear the curates ; and for
favouring and hearing the ousted ministers. And farther, on
I^ovember 24th of the same year, — " The council being informed
that the laird of Earlstoun kept conventicles and private meetings in
his house, do order letters to be directed against him, to compear
before this council, to answer for his contempt, under pain of
rebellion." All this, however, damped not the courage of this
faithful confessor of Christ, in adhering to his persecuted gospel ;
but his enemies passed a still more severe and rigorous act against
him, in which it was exhibited, that he had been at several conven-
ticles— as they were pleased to call these meetings — where Mr.
Gabriel Semple, a deposed minister, had preached in the woods of
Corsack and Airds ; and heard texts of scripture explained, both in
his mother's and in his own house, by ousted ministers : — " And
being required to enact himself to abstain from all such meetings in
time coming, and to live peaceably and orderly, conform to law,"
he refused to do so. They therefore sentenced him to be banished,
and to depart forth of the kingdom within a month, and not to re-
turn under pain of death ; and, during that time to live peaceably,
under the penalty of £10,000, or otherwise to enter his person in prison.
This sentence, however, it would appear, Earlstoun altogether dis-
regarded,— and though we have no particular account of his future
sufferings, we are certainly informed that he was subjected to
many vexatious hardships. In 1667, he was turned out of his house,
which was converted into a garrison for Bannatyne and his party.
Almost every subsequent year brought with it fresh troubles, until the
22d or 23d of January, 16Y9, when he emerged out of them
all, arrived at the haven of everlasting rest, and obtained his
glorious reward, in the following manner.
Having some business to settle, perhaps with a view never to return,
he was prevented from joining that suffering handful who were then
in arms near Both well ; but sent his son, who took part in the action.
With all possible expedition he hastened to their assistance ; but not
having heard of the Covenanters' disaster, he was met near the field
of battle by a party of English dragoons who were in pursuit of the
sufferers. Like a valiant champion of Christ, he refused to surrender,
or comply with their demands. He was therefore put to death upon
the spot. His friends not being able to obtain his slaughtered body,
and his son being among the fugitives, it was interred in the church-
yard of Glassford, remote from the tombs of his ancestors. Although
a pillar or monument was erected over his grave ; " yet, neither
"sculptured urn nor animated bust" pointed it out, because of the
severity of the times.*
* His son Alexander Gordon here narrowly escaped being taken, by means of one of his
tenants, who, knowing him as he rode through Hamilton, made him dismount, put on
women's clothes, and rock the cradle. After this, he went over to his brother-in-law, Mr.
Hamilton, to represent the low case of the united societies to the churches of the Nether-
lands ; he was by them called home, and when returning back he was apprehended by the
enemy, and put to the torture ; but by means of his friend, the Duke of Gordon, his life
was spared. However, he was sent to the Bass, and from thence, to Blackness, in 1683,
where he continued till he was liberated at the Revolution. It is to be lamented, that
neither he, after this, nor his son Sir Thomas, fully followed the steps of their ancestors.
494
SCOTS WORTHIES.
Thus fell a renowned Gordon ; a gentleman of high and honourable
attainments, devoted to religion and godliness, and an unyielding
supporter of the presbyterian interest in that part of the country
where he dwelt. It may very truly be said of him, that he lived a
patriot, a Christian, a confessor ; and died a martyr for the cause of
Christ.
JOHN KING AND JOHN KIDD.
!N"oTHiNG more seems to be known of these distinguished martyrs
than a brief account of their sufferings, comprising the period between
the years 1670 and 1679 ; and, it is very probable that their names
might have been lost in oblivion, or at least passed over in compara-
tive obscurity, had they not been thought worthy to seal their testi-
mony with their blood. In the times of which we treat, hundreds,
who suffered the loss of all things for the cause of Christ, are now
altogether unknown, except in the imperfect traditionary chronicles
of the families from which they were descended. Hundreds, too,
finished their mortal pilgrimage in foreign climes, of whom no ac-
count was ever transmitted to the land of their birth ; but the two
eminent individuals, united in this brief memoir, will live on the page
of history, so long as time endures.
The earliest account we have of King is, that he was for some time
chaplain to lord Cardross, and that he was apprehended and com-
mitted to prison, in the year 1674 ; from which, however, he was
liberated, upon a bond and security for 5000 merks, to appear when
called. l^Qxt year he was again taken into custody, having been
apprehended in Cardross house; but he was soon rescued by a few
country people who had profited by his ministry. He was afterwards
taken, a third time, near Hamilton, with about seventeen others, and
marched to Evandale, where they were all retaken by the victorious
Covenantei-s at Drumclog, whither they had been conveyed by
Claverhouse. From that time he devoted himself to the service of
his Master, by fjreaching to the persecuted party till their defeat at
Both well. The circumstances attending his final capture are some-
what romantic ; but as there is nothing improbable in the account,
we give it upon the testimony of a person, who vouched for its accu-
racy : — " King having been on a visit to the laird of Blair, in the
parish of Dairy, near Kilwinning, to whom he had been formerly
KID AND KING. 495
cliaplain^ one Biyce Blair, a farmer, who had been groom there while
King was in the family, came and desired a visit also. King went
accordingly ; and delivered a short discourse on the Saturday night
following. On the Sabbath morning, a party of the enemy — said to
be Cricbton's dragoons — being in quest of him, two of them, in dis-
guise, came to an old man feeding cattle near Blair's house, and
asked him if he knew where that godly minister, Mr. King, was ; for
they were afraid he should be taken, as the enemy were in pursuit of
him; and if they knew where he was they would secure him from
them. The old man, overjoyed, cried, 'I'll run and tell him.' The
men followed hard after, and, finding one of the family servants
waiting on King and his servant's horses, they immediately dis-
mouted ; and, having driven their own horses into the standing corn,
threatened the servant not to stir from the spot, upon pain of death.
One of them immediately took his own saddle, and, putting it on
King's horse, said, ' Many a mile I have rode after thee, but I shall
ride upon thee now !'
" By this time the rest of the party had surrounded the house ;
and. King and his servant being in bed, they immediately command-
ed them to rise. While the servant was putting on his maste^r's
spurs, one of the soldiers damned him, saying, was he putting a spur
on a prisoner? The servant replied he would put on what he pleased,
for which he received a blow from the soldier, who, in his turn, was
also assailed by one of his companions, with an oath, reproving him
for striking a prisoner while offering no resistance. Thus King and
the servant were both marched off for Glasgow, attended by one
David Gumming, a native of the parish, as guide. For this man the
party pressed a horse that they might get forward the more speedily ;
but they had not proceeded far, when the animal became quite furious
and unmanageable, so that Gumming was obliged to dismount and
walk the rest of the road. It is added, that the horse became quite
calm and docile, at soon as he understood that he was on the way
home." In reference to his apprehension, the following very striking
account has also obtained currency : — " A party of English dragoons
are said to have been there at the time, and one of them, on hoi*se-
back, having called for some ale, drank to the confusion of the Gov-
enanters. One of his companions having asked him at the stable-
green port, where he was going, was answered, — ' To carry King to
hell.' But the wicked wretch had proceeded only a short way, in
high merriment, w^hen his carbine went off and shot him dead on the
spot." " God shall shoot at them with an arrow : suddenly shall
they be wounded."*
It would appear that Kid had been apprehended at the same time.
Whether he had ever been ordained, or was only a probationer, there
is no certain account. His presence, however, with the covenanted
party, was deemed sufficient to infer the highest penalty of the law,
and he was accordingly indicted along with King, for having been
in the rebellion, and for having preached at field conventicles. They
were both brought before the council at Edinburgh, on the 9th of
July. King at once acknowledged that he had been with those who
• Ps. Ixiv. 7.
496 SCOTS WORTHIES.
liad taken up arms in defence of their rights ; Kid confessed that he
had preached in the fields; but only in two places where there were
men in arms. Both signed their confession, which was afterwards
produced in evidence against tliem. Kid was again examined before
the council, on the 12th, and put to the torture. It is said, indeed,
that he was more than once in the boots, which he bore with ex-
emplary patience and meekness. King was re-examined on the 16th
before the court of justiciary, and Kid on the day following. On the
22d, they were served with indictments, and their trial came on upon
the 28th. Counsel were allowed to appear in their defence ; but no
exculpatory proof was admitted. Immediately after their indictments
were read, the king's advocate produced their confession in evidence,
when, after the pleadings, and a petition in behalf of King had
been read and refused, they were both brought in Guilty, and sen-
tenced to be hanged at the market-cross of Edinburgh, on Thursday,
the 14th of August, and to have their heads and right hands cut off,
and disposed of at the pleasure of the council.
It was on the forenoon of this day that the king's act of indemnity
was published ; and, to grace the solemnity, these two noble martyrs,
who were denied a share in it, w^ere brought forth in the forenoon,
for execution. It is related by an eyewitness, that as they approached
the Mai spot, walking arm in arm. Kid, looking at his fellows-martyr
with a cheerful countenance, said : — " I have often heard and read
of a hid sacrifice !" Upon the scaffold they exhibited a very remark-
able degree of magnanimous serenity, and submitted to their sentence
with much placidity and joy — a joy with which none of their perse-
cutors could intermeddle. Their heads were cut off on another scaf-
fold prepared for the purpose.*
Thus ended the lives of these two worthy ministers and martyrs of
Jesus Christ, after having owned their allegiance to Zion's King, and
having given a faithful testimony against popery, prelacy, Erastian-
ism, and for the covenanted work of Keforraation in its different
parts and periods.
* Their heads and hands were cut off, and affixed to the Netherbow Port of Edinburgh
beside that of Mr. Guthrie,
JOHN BROWN. 497
JOHN BROWN.
John Brown, the well-known author of several highly prized works
on practical divinity, is the next "Worthy that claims our respectful
notice. Much obscurity hangs over his early history. His mother,
an intelligent and pious person, had the honour to rank among her
correspondents the famous Samuel Rutherford. In writing to Mrs.
Brown from Aberdeen on the 13th March, 1637, Rutherford thus re-
fers to the subject of this memoir, who was then a mere youth : — " I
rejoice to hear your son John is coming to visit Christ, and to taste
of his love. I hope he shall not lose his pains, or rue that choice.
I had always, ' as I said often to you,' a great love to dear Mr. John,
because I thought I saw Christ in him more than in his brethren.
Fain would I write to him to stand by my sweet Master ; and I wish
you would let him read my letter, and the joy I have, if he will ap-
pear for, and side with my Lord Jesus." In another letter to a dif-
ferent correspondent, Rutherford also expresses himself as follows : —
" Remember me to Mr. John Brown ; I could never get my love off
that man, I think Christ hath something to do with him."
On completing his academical studies, he was ordained minister
of Wamphray, in the presbytery of Lochmaben. He was indefati-
gable in his pastoral labours in that parish, as well as throughout
Annandale. He continued at Wamphray till after the restoration of
Charles the Second. For the conscientious and bold stand which he
made against the introduction of jDrelacy he was cruelly treated, and
deprived of his benefice. On the 6th E"ovember, 1662, he was placed
at the bar of the council, charged with " abusing and reproaching
some ministers for keeping the diocesan synod with the archbishop
of Glasgow, calling them perjured knaves and villains. He acknow-
ledged that he called them false knaves for so doing, because they
had promised the contrary to him. The council ordained him to be
secured a close prisoner in the tolbooth till further orders."
In consequence of the severities to which he was subjected, by
being confined in a damp cell during the winter of 1662, he was in-
duced to send in a representation to the council, setting forth, " that
: he had been kept close prisoner these five weeks by-past, and seeing,
that by want oi free air and other necessaries, for maintaining his
crazy body, he is in hazard to lose his life ; therefore, humbly desir-
1 ing warrant to be put at liberty, upon caution, to enter his person
I when he should be commanded." The lords of council " ordain the
, suppliant to be put at liberty forthwith of the tolbooth, he first oblig-
32
498 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ing himself to remove and depart off the king's dominions, and not
to return without license from his majesty and council, under pain of
death." Tlie alternative was a hard one, but rather than pine away
in a dungeon, he chose to bid a last adieu to his beloved flock and
his numerous friends in Scotland, and repair to Rotterdam, where
several of his acquaintance had already taken refuge. Brown was
allowed two months, from the 11th of December, to prepare for his
final departure from his native country ; and, in the spring of 1663,
he landed on the continent. He resided partly at Utrecht and partly
at Rotterdam. Though he preached frequently in both places, he was
never adniitted minister of any congregation abroad. In the year
1673, the English congregation at Middleburg, in Zealand, were de-
sirous to have him as their pastor. He remained, however, at Rot-
terdam, where, in 1676, he was brought forward as a candidate along
with his friend Mr. Mac Ward, when the Dutch government gener-
ously agreed that a second minister should be appointed for the
Scottish Church in that city. Both candidates, being men of tried
worth and ability, found strenuous supporters in tlie congregation.
The consistory, by a majority of votes, elected Mr. MacWard.
Brown was extremely useful at Rotterdam. He assisted the
ministers of the Scottish Church, not merely in the pulpit, but also
in regularly visiting their people. For a while he peaceably en-
joyed the Cliristian society of his expatriated brethren, and consoled
\)y his printed writings and private letters, the dear friends among
whom he now dwelt, as well as those whom he had been forced to
leave behind. But this peace w^as soon broken in upon by the un-
worthy interference of King Charles. He insisted that the States
General should remove from the United Provinces, colonel Wallace,
John Brown, and Robert Mac Ward, because they were obnoxious^
to his Majesty. The States, with great reluctance, interposed in this
delicate matter; and, as we have already fully stated in our Life of
Colonel Wallace, persuaded rather than forced these three Worthies,
to withdraw from Holland. This occurred in February, 1677. For
a short period they were in Germany ; but it wsls not long till they
were permitted to recross the frontiers of Holland, and take up their
abode in the vicinity of Utrecht. ♦
Mr. Mac Ward, when corresponding with his session about a suc-
cessor, thus speaks of Brown, who was at this time living w^ith him
in prudent retirement : — " The Lord hath suffered men to rob you of
Mr. Brown, of whom I have confidence to say, for a conjunction of
great learning, soundness in the faith, fervent zeal for the interests of
Christ, and the souls of men, together with his unwearied painfulness
while upon the brink of the grave, spending his life to give light to
others, and laying out his great receivings for the vindication of pre-
cious truth ; contradicted and blasphemed by adversaries, I know no
minister alive (though the residue of the Spirit be with him) that
would fill his room if he were removed ; and, whatever particular
churches or persons may think, Mr. Brown would be missed out of
the church of God at this time, that the greatest men he left behind
would count themselves obliged to mourn over that miss. Yea,
•whatever others may think, it is beyond debate with me, if our capti-
I
JOHN BROWN. 499
vitj were this day returned, that this Mr. Brown, now removed from
the Scottish congregation of Rotterdam, would, by a General Assem-
bly, be pitched upon to fill the most famous place in the Church of
Scotland."
In the following year Brown returned to Rotterdam, and was re-
ceived by his attached friends with open arms. His sojourn in this
world was now drawing to a close* Having gone to Amsterdam on.
a visit, he died there in the month of September, 16T9.
Of Brown it may with the greatest truth be affirmed, that his heart
was in his work.* Deeply impressed with the responsibility of the
ministerial office, it seemed ever his grand and primary aim, faith-
fully and affectionately to discharge its important duties. Rather
than violate conscientious scruples, or relax in his firm adherence to
the sacred cause, he willingly " suffered the loss of all things ;" and,
like numbers of his brethren equally minded, he meekly and cheer-
fully bore many indignities and privations, 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 Scot-
land : — f
" During all the space we were together in the country, I observed
him, (his chamber being just above mine,) to be as much in prayer
and communion with God as I ever observed any, yea, more, inso-
much 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 according to know-
ledge ; and to sum up all, I must say, alas ! — the witness of the
Church of Scotland ; the man who withstood the present course of
desertion ; the man who, in resisting the adversaries of the truth of
all sorts and sizes, was helped to do valiantly, and made able to do
exploits for his God ; the man who, while the archers, (his brethren,
I mean, for. they were the bowmen,) 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 ren-
der 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 have already laid upon my loins, so they must prepare them-
'\ selves to hear these set before them. And, my friend, I give you
warrant moreover to let as many know as you please, that however
some were pleased to give it out that there was a difference and dry-
ness 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 sentiments in all things relating to
, * " Mr. Russell shewed to the Session. (Oct. 12, 1679,) that Mr. John Brown, before his
'death, had appointed 100 guilders to be given to the Session, for use of the poor, after the
selling of his books." — Consist. Regist. vol. ii. (Jan. 1675. — Oct. 1697, p, 6.)
t Wodrow MSS., Advocates' Library, Edinburgh, vol. Iviii. art. 108.
500 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 controversy, he was acute,
masculine, and strong; in history, plain and comprehensive: 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-Sabbatarios^ which is greatly valued by the learned. There is
also a large manuscript history, entitled. Apologia pro Ecclesia^ c&c.j
anno Domini 1660, consisting of 1600 pages in 4to, which he gave
to Mr. Charles Gordon, sometime minister at Dalmeny, to be by him
presented to the first free General Assembly of the Church of Scot-
land, and which, accordingly, was presented to the General Assembly
of 1692. Of this history, the Apologetical Relation seems to be an
abridgment. His letters and other papers, particularly the history of
the Indulgence, written and sent home to his native country,
manifest his great and fervent zeal for the cause of Christ. And his
other practical pieces, such as that on Justification ; on the Romans ;
Quakerism the Way to Paganism ; the Hope of Glory ; and Christ
the Way, the Truth, and the Life ; the first and second parts of his
Life of Faith ; and Enoch's Testament opened up, &c. ; — all evidence
his solid piety, and real acquaintance with God and godliness.
The Dutch entertained a high opinion of Brown's theological
attainments. Professors Leydecker and Spanheim, and Messrs.
Borstius, a Brakel and Koelman, distinguished native divines, were
his intimate friends ; and, by their united and individual commenda-
tions and labours, were instrumental in extensively disseminating the
able treatises on practical religion, written by Brown, during his
exile. It is not our intention to analyze the numerous books of which
he was the author. We may here mention, as not generally known,
that several of his more popular writings were circulated in Holland,
some years previous to being printed in the English language, by
means of the translation of Mr. James Koelman, who obtained the
manuscripts from the author, and rendered them into Dutch with ex-
treme fidelity. We have seen seven editions of this foreign version
of Brown's " Christ the Way, the Truth, and the Life," and different
impressions of some of his other productions, which are still prized in
Holland. This eminent person is repeatedly styled, in the register of
the Scottish Church at Rotterdam, " a painful helper " in the cause
of their divine Master. Did our limits permit, we would willingly
dilate on his acknowledged erudition, and the ability and singular
zeal by which he was distinguished both at Wamphray and Rotter-
dam. His memory let us devoutly cherish ! By the grace of God
he was what he was ; and in studying the writings and life of Bro
we cannot fail to admire his enlightened piety, and earnestly desi:
to follow him as he followed Christ.*
♦ For an account of the Rev. John Brown, and a complete chronological list of his worl
see Edinburgh Christian Instructor, vol. xxi. pp. 659-668; vol. xxiii. pp. 827-831 ; also, the
nunibers for November and December, 1840, of the New Series of that periodical, from the
l>en of the Rev. Dr. Burns of Paisley. Among the latest public acts of Mr. Brown, may
be mentioned the ordination of the martyr, Mr. Richard Cameron, which took place in the
Scottish Church, Rotterdam, in the year 1679 ; Messrs. Mac Ward and Koelman assisting
that solemn occasion. — Consist. Papers of Scottish Ch. Rott.
1
HENRY HALL OF HAUGH-HEAD. 501
HENRY HALL OF HAUGH-HEAD.
The subject of this brief memoir was a native of the parish of Eckford,
in Tiviotdale. Having had a religious education, he began very early
to mind a life of holiness, in all manner of godly conversation. In
his younger years he was a most zealous opposer of the public resolu-
tions that took place in 1651 ; insomuch that, when the minister of
Eckford complied with that course, he refused to hear him, and went
often to Ancrum to Mr. John Livingstone. After the restoration of
Charles II., being harassed by the malicious persecutions of the
curates and other malignants for his nonconformity, he was obliged
to leave his native country and go to England, in 1665, where he
made himself singularly useful in propagating the gospel, by in-
structing the ignorant, and procuring ministers to preach among the
people, who, before his coming, were very rude and barbarous. In
1666, he was taken prisoner on his way to Pentland, to assist his
covenanted brethren, and imprisoned with some others, in Cessford
castle. By divine providence, however, he soon escaped, through
the favour of his friend the Earl of Roxburgh, a relation of his, to
whom the castle then belonged. He retired now to Northumber-
land, where, from that time till 1679, he lived, much beloved by all
who knew him, for his care and anxiety in propagating the gospel of
Christ in that country ; so that his blameless life and conversation
drew love, reverence, and esteem, even from his enemies. About
1678, the severity of the persecution in Scotland compelled many to
wander about in I^^orthumberland, as one Col. Struthers was violently
pursuing all Scotsmen in those places. Ilaugh-head w^as present at
the skirmish near Crookham, where Thomas Kerr of Hayhop, one of
his nearest intimates, a gallant and religious gentleman, fell. Upon
this he was obliged to return to Scotland, where he wandered up and
down in the hottest of the persecution, mostly with Mr. Donald
Cargill and Mr. Richard Cameron. During that time, besides his
many other Christian virtues, he signalized himself by an ardent zeal
in defence of the persecuted gospel in the fields. He was one of
those four elders of the Church of Scotland, who, at the council of
war at Shawhead-muir, June 18, 1669, were chosen, with Messrs.
Cargill, Douglas, King, and Barclay, to draw up the " Causes of the
Lord's Wrath against the Land," which were to be the causes of a
fast on the day following. He had, indeed, an active hand in the
Tuost part of the transactions among the Covenanters at that time, as
5^ SCOTS WORTHIES.
being one of the commanding officers in that army, from the skirmish
at Drumclog, to their defeat at Bothwell-bridge.
After this, being forfeited, and diligently searched for and pur-
sued, to eschew the violent Lands of his indefatigable persecutors, he
was forced to go over to Holland — the only refuge then of our Scots
sufferers. But he had not remained there long, until his zeal for the
persecuted interest of Christ, and his tender sympatliy for the afflicted
remnant of his covenanted brethren, who were then wandering in
Scotland through the desolate caves and dens of tlie earth, drew him
home again, choosing rather to undergo the utmost severity of the
persecutors' fury, than live at ease in the time of Joseph's affliction ;
making the generous choice of Moses, who preferred to the momen-
tary enjoyment of earthly pleasures, affliction with the people of God.
Kor was he very much concerned about the riches of this world ; for
he hesitated not to give his ground to hold field-preachings on,* when
few or none else w^ould do it ; for he was still a true lover of the free
and faithful preached gospel, and was always against the Indul-
gence.
About a quarter of a year after his return from Holland, he was
for the most part with Mr. Cargill, lurking as privily as they could
about Borrows tounness, and other places on this and other side of the
Firth of Forth. At last they were taken notice of by these two
bloody hounds, the curates of Borrowstounness and Carriden, who
soon smelled out Mr. Cargill and his companion, and presently sent
information to Middleton, governor of Blackness castle, who was a
i)apist. After consultation he commenced immediate pursuit, and
laving ordered his soldiers to follow him at a distance, in order to
avoid suspicion, he with his man rode after them till they came to
Queensferry ; where, perceiving the house where they alighted, he
sent his servant off in haste for his men, and after putting up his
horse in another house, he came to them as a stranger, and, pretend-
ing a great deal of kindness to them both, requested tlie pleasure of
having a glass of wine with them. After each had partaken of a
glass and were in some friendly conference, the governor, wearying
that his men came not up, threw oif the mask, and laid hands on
them, saying, they were his prisoners, commanding the people of the
house in the king's name to assist ; but they all refused except one
Thomas George, a waiter, by whose assistance he got the gate shut.
In the mean while, Haugh-head, being a bold and brisk man,
struggled hard with the governor until Cargill got off; and after the
scuffle, as he was going oif himself, having got clear of the governor,
Thomas George struck him on the head with a carbine and wounded
him mortally. However, he got out ; and by this time the women
of the town, who were assembled at the gate to the rescue of the
Prisoners, conveyed him out of town. He walked some time on foot,
ut scarcely spoke, save only to cast some little reflection upon a
* The Rev. Mr. George Barclay, who was very public at this time, and had his hand at
many a good turn, and was a blessed instrunnent to the edification of many souls, but got a
waff of that murdering east-wind, in the year 1679, said, ''The best days that ever he had
in preaching of the gospel were in ihe bounds belonging to the laird of Haugh-head, worthy
Henry Hall, &c."
RICHARD CAMERON. 503
woman whose interposition had prevented liim from killing the gov-
ernor,— an event which would liave tended greatly to facilitate his
escape. At last he fainted, and was carried to a country house near
Echlin ; and although surgeons were speedily brought, yet he never
recovered the use of his speech afterward. Dalziel, living near by,
was soon apprized of the circumstance, and came quickly with a
party of the guards, and seized him ; and, although every one saw
the gentleman just dying, yet such was Dalziel's inhumanity, that he
carried him to Edinburgh. But he died on the way thither, and
made an end of his earthly pilgrimage to receive his heavenly crown.
His corpse was carried to the Canongate tolbooth, where it lay three
days without burial : and even then, though his friends convened for
that end, it could not be granted. At last they caused him to be
buried clandestinely in the night ; for such was the fury of these
limbs of antichrist, that after they had slain the witnesses, they would
not suffer them to be decently interred, which is another lasting evi-
dence of the cruelty of these times.
Thus this worthy gentleman, after he had in an eminent manner
served his day and generation, fell a victim to prelatic fury. Upon
him was found, when he was taken, a rude draught of an unsubscrib-
ed paper, afterwards called the Queensferry Paper ; which the reader
will find inserted at large in Wodrow's History, vol. ii. Appendix,
No. 56 ; the substance of which is contained in Crookshank's His-
tory, and in the Appendix to the Cloud of Witnesses.
RICHARD CAMERON.
This devoted Worthy was born in Falkland, in the shire of Fife,
M^here his father was a merchant. He was of the episcopal persua-
sion at first; but after he had completed his course of learning, he
was for some time thereafter schoolmaster and precentor to the curate
of Falkland. He sometimes attended the sermons of the Indulged,
as he had opportunity ; but at last it pleased the Lord to incline him
to go out and hear the field preaching; which the curates understand-
ing, they endeavoured partly by flattery and partly by threats, and
at last by more direct persecution, to make him forbear. But such
was the wonderful working of the Lord by his powerful Spirit upon
him, that having got a lively discovery of the sin and hazard of pre-
lacy, he deserted the curates altogether ; for no sooner was he en-
lightened anent the evil of prelacy ."than he began more narrowly to
504 SCOTS WORTHIES.
search into the state of things, that he might know what was his
proper and necessary duty. The Lord was pleased to discover to him
the sinfulness of the Indulgence, as flowing from the ecclesiastical
supremacy usurped by the king ; and being zealous for the honour
of Christ, he longed for any opportunity to give a testimony against
the Erastian acknowledgment of the magistrate's usurped power over
the church. This made him leave Falkland, and go to Sir Walter
Scott of Harden, who attended the indulged meetings. Here he took
the opportunity, notwithstanding of many strong temptations to the
contrary, to w^itness in his station against the Indulgence. Particu-
larly on Sabbath, when called to attend the lady to church, he re-
turned from the entry, refusing to go that day ; spending it in his
chamber, where he met with much of the Lord's presence, as he him-
self afterwards testified, and got very evident discoveries of the na-
ture of these temptations and suggestions of Satan, which threatened
to prevail with him before ; and upon Monday when he gave a
reason to the said Sir Walter and his lady why he went not. to church
with them, he took occasion to be plain and express in testifying
against the Indulgence in its origin and nature. After which, find-
ing his service would be no longer acceptable to them, he went to the
south, where he met with the Rev. Mr. John Welch. He staid some
time in his company, and Mr. Welch finding him a man every way
qualified for the ministry, pressed him to accept a license to preach :
this, however, he for some time refused, because having obtained
such clear discoveries of the sinfulness of the Indulgence, he foresaw
that he would be required to testify explicitly against it, as he should
have opportunity to preach the ^os]3el in public. But the force of his
objections being answered by Mr. Welch's serious solicitations, he
was prevailed on to accept of a license from the ejected ministers,
who were then preaching in the fields, and had not yet complied
with the Indulgence. Accordingly he was licensed by Mr. Welch
and Mr. Semple, at Haugh-head, in Tiviotdale, at the house of Henry
Hall. Here he told them, he would be a bone of contention among
them ; for if he preached against a national sin among them, it
should be against the Indulgences, and for separation from the In-
dulged.
After he was licensed, they sent him at first to preach in Annan-
dale. He said, how could he go there ? He knew not what sort of
people they were. But Mr. Welch said : — " Go your way, Ritchie,
and set the fire of hell to their tails ?" He went, and the first day
he preached upon that text : — " How shall I put thee among the
children," &c. In the application he said, " Put you among the
children, the ofispring of robbers and thieves ; many have heard of
Annandale thieves !" Some of them got a merciful cast that day,
and told it afterwards, that it was the first field-meeting that ever
they attended ; and that they went out of curiosity to see how a
minister could preach in a tent, and people sit on the ground. After
this, he preached several times with Mr. Welch, Mr. Semple, and
others, until 1677, that he and Mr. AVelvvood were called before that
Erastian meeting at Edinburgh, to be deposed, for their freedom and
faithfulness in preaching against the sinful compliance of that time.
RICHARD CAMERON. 505
After this he preached at Majbole, were many thousands of people
were assembled together, it being the first time that the sacrament of
the Lord's Supper was there dispensed in the open fields.^ At this
time he used much more freedom in testifying against the sinfulness of
the Indulgences, for which he was called before another meeting of
the indulged in Galloway ; and a little thereafter, he was again called
before a presbytery of them, at Sundewall in Dunscore in Nithsdale.
This was the third time they had designed to take his license from
him. Here it was that Robert Gray, a Northumbrian, who suffered
afterwards in the Grassmarket, in 1682, Robert Nelson, and others,
protested against them for such conduct. At this meeting they pre-
vailed with him to give his promise, that for some short time he
should forbear such an explicit way of preaching against the Indul-
gence and separation from them who were indulged ; which promise
lay heavy on him afterwards, as will appear in its own proper place.
After giving this promise, and finding himself by vii'tue thereof
bound up from declaring the whole counsel of God, he turned some-
what melancholy ; and to pass the period of time specified by the
promise in the end of the year 1678, he went over to Holland, where
he conversed with Mr. Mac Ward, and others of our banished Worthies.
In his private conversation and exercise in families, but especially in
his public sermon in the Scots Kirk of Rotterdam, he was most re-
freshing to many souls. In this sermon he dwelt chiefly upon con-
version, his text being : — " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest." His sermon w^as both satis-
fying and agreeable to. Mr. Mac Ward, Mr. Brown, and others, who
had been sadly misinformed by the Indulged, respecting his charac-
ter and mode of preaching ; for in this instance he touched on no
public matters in reference to the church, except in prayer, when
lamenting the deplorable case of Scotland by defection and tyranny.
About this time Mr. MacWard said to him : — " Richard, the public
standard is now fallen in Scotland ; and, if I know any thing of the
mind of the Lord, you are called to undergo your trials before us ;
therefore go home, and lift the fallen standard and display it publicly
before the world ; but before ye put your hand to it, go to as many
of the field-ministers — for so they were yet called — as ye can find,
and give them your hearty invitation to go with you ; and if they
will not go, go alone, and the Lord will go with you !''
Accordingly he was ordained by Mr. MacWard, Mr. Brown, and
Roleman, a famous Dutch divine. When their hands were taken off
his head, Mr. MacWard continued his still, and cried out : — " Be-
hold all ye beholders ; here is the head of a faithful minister and
servant of Jesus Christ, who shall lose the same for his Master's in-
terest, and shall be set up before sun and moon, in the view of the
world !"
In the beginning of 1680, he returned to Scotland, where he spent
some time in going to such ministers as had formerly kept up the
public standard of the gospel in the fields, but all in vain ; for the
persecution after Bothwell was then so hot against all who had
* Those who dispensed the sacrament of the Lord's Supper here, were Messrs. Archi-
bald Riddle, John Welch, Andrew Morton, Patrick Warner, George Barclay, and others.
506 SCOTS WORTHIES.
not accepted the Indulgence and indemnity, that none of them would
venture u])on that hazard except Donald Cargill and Thomas Douglas,
who came together, and kept a public fast day in Danneid-muir, be-
twixt Clydesdale and Lothian ; one of the chief causes of which was
the reception of the duke of York, that sworn vassal of antichrist,
into Scotland, after he had been excluded from England and several
other places Having met several times among themselves to form
a declaration and testimony, they at last agreed upon one, M^hich was
])ublished at the market-cross of Sanquhar, June 22, 1680 ; from
which circumstance it is commonly called the Sanquhar Declaration.
After this they were obliged for some time to separate one from an-
other, and go to different corners of the land ; and that not only
upon account of the urgent call and necessity of the people, who were
then in a most starving condition, with respect to the free and faith-
ful preached gospel, but also on account of the indefatigable scrutiny
of the enemy, who, for their better encouragement, had, by procla-
mation, offered 5000 merks for apprehending Cameron, 3000 for Mr.
Cargill and Mr. Douglas, and 100 for each of the rest, who were con-
cerned in the publication of the foresaid declaration.
After parting, Cameron went to Swine-knowe in IN'ew Monkland,
where he had a most confirming and comforting day, upon that soul-
refreshing text : — " And a man shall be a hiding place from the wind
and a covert from the tempest ; as rivers of water in a dry place ; as
the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." In his preface he said,
he was fully assured that the Lord, in mercy to this church and nation,
would sweep the throne of Britain of that unhappy race of the name
of Stuart, for their treachery and tyranny, but especially their usurp-
ing the royal prerogatives of Christ ; and this he was as sure of as
his hands were upon that cloth ; yea, and more sure, for he had that
by sense, but the other by faith.
When he came to preach about Cumnock, he was much opposed
by the Lairds of Logan and Horsecleugh, who represented him as a
bad character and Jesuit. But yet some of the Lord's peoi)le, who
had retained their former faithfulness, gave him a call to preach in
that parish. When he began, he exhorted the people to remember
that they were in the sight and presence of a holy God, and that all
of them were hastening to an endless state of well or wo. One An-
drew Dalziel who was in the house, it being a stormy day, cried out,
" Sir^ we neither know you nor your God !" Cameron, musing a
little, said : — " You, and all who do not know my God in mercy,
shall know him in his judgments, which shall be sudden and sur-
prising in a few days upon you ; and I, as a sent servant of Jesus
Christ, whose commission I bear, and whose badge I wear upon m.y
breast, give you warning, and leave you to the justice of God !"
Accordingly, in a few days after, the said Andrew, being in perfect
health, took his breakfast plentifully, and before he rose fell a vomit-
ing, and vomited his heart's blood into the very vessel out of which
he had taken his breakfast, and died in a most frightful manner.
This admonishing passage, together with the power and presence of
the Lord going along with the gospel dispensed by him, during the
little time he was there, made the foresaid two lairds desire a confer-
RICHARD CAMERON. 507
ence with him ; to which he readily assented. After which they were
obliged to acknowledge that they had wronged him, and desired his
forgiveness. He said, from his heart he forgave the wrongs they had
done to him ; but for those which they had done to tlie interest of
Christ, it was not his to forgive, adding, that he was persuaded they
would be remarkably punished for it. To the laird of Logan he said,
that he should be written childless ; and to Horsecleugh, that he
should suffer by burning, — both of which afterwards came to pass.
Upon the fourth of July following, being eighteen days before his
death, he preached at the Grass-water-side near Cumnock. In his
preface that day, he said : — " There are three or four things 1 have
to tell you this day, which I must not omit, because I will be but a
breakfast or four-hours to the enemy some day or other shortly ; and
then my w^oi'k and my time will both be finished. 1. As for king
Charles II. who is now upon the throne of Britain, after him there
shall not be a crowned king of the name of Stuart in Scotland.^ 2.
There shall not be an old Covenanter's head above ground, that
swore these covenants with uplifted hands, ere ye get a right refor-
mation set up in Scotland. 3. A man shall ride a day's journey in
the shires of Galloway, Ayr, and Clydesdale, and not see a reeking
house nor hear a cock crow, ere ye get a right reformation ; and
several other shires shall be little better. 4. The rod that the Lord
will make instrumental in this, will be the French and other foreign-
ers, together with a party in this land joining them ; but ye that
stand to the testimony in that day, be not discouraged at the few-
ness of your number ; for, when Christ comes to raise up his own
work in Scotland, he will not want men enough to work for him."
In the week following, he preached in the parish of Carluke, from
these words, " Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the law-
ful captive delivered ?" And the Sabbath following, at Hind-Bottom,
near Crawfordjohn, he preached from these words, " Ye will not
come to me that ye may have life." During sermon he was seen to
weep, and the greater part of his hearers also, so that few dry cheeks
were to be seen in the assembly. After this to the day of his death
he for the most part kept his chamber door shut until night ; for the
mistress of the house where he staid, having been several times at the
door, got no admission. At last she forced it up ; and, finding him
very melancholy, earnestly desired to know how it was with him.
He said : — " That weary promise I gave to these ministers has lain
heavy upon me, and for which my carcass shall dung the wilderness,
and that ere it be long!" Being now near his end, he had such a
large earnest of the Spirit, that longing for full possession of the
heavenly inheritance, he seldom prayed in a family, asked a bless-
ing, or gave thanks, but he requested patience to wait for the Lord's
appointed time.
The last sabbath he preached was w^ith Mr. Cargill in Clydesdale,
from these words, " Be still, and know that I am God ; I will be ex-
alted among the heathen, I will be exalted on the earth." That day
he said, he was sure that the Lord would lift up a standard against
antichrist that would go to the gates of Rome, and burn it with fire,
* King James II. never took the coronation oath of Scotland.
508 SCOTS WORTHIES.
and that " blood" should be their siirn, and " no quarter" their word ;
and earnestly wished that it might begin in Scotland. At their part-
ing, they concluded to meet the second sabbath after this at Craig-
mead ; but he was killed on the Thursday thereafter. And the
sabbath following, Mr. Cargill preached in the parish of Shotts, from
that text, — " Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man
fallen this day in Israel ?"
The last night of his life, he was in the house of William Mitchell
of Meadowhead, at the water of Ayr, where, about twenty-three horse
and forty foot had contiimed with him that week. That morning a
woman gave him water to wash his face and hands; and having
washed, and dried them with a towel, he looked at his hands, and
laid them on his face, saying: — " This is their last washing, I have
need to make them clean, for there are many to see them !" At this
the woman's mother wept, when he said : — " Weep not for me, but
for yourself and yours, and for the sins of a sinful land, for ye have
many melancholy, sorrowful, and weary days before you."
The people who remained with him were in some hesitation,
whether they should abide together for their own defence, or disperse
and shift for themselves. But that day, being the 22d of July, they
were surprised by Bruce of Earlshall ; who having got command of
Airley's troop and Strachan's dragoons, upon notice given him by
Sir John Co«^hran of Ochiltree,* came furiously upon them about
four o'clock in the afternoon, when lying on the east end of Ayr's-
Moss. When they saw the enemy approaching, and no possi-
bility of escaping, they all gathered round Cameron while he deli-
vered a short prayer in which this expression occurred three times :
— " Lord, spare the green, and take the ripe !" When ended, he
said to his brother, with great intrepidity : — " Come, let us fight it
out to the last ; for this is the day that I have longed for, and the
day that I have prayed for, to die fighting against our Lord's avowed
enemies ; this is the day that we will get the crown !" And to the
rest he said : — " Be encouraged, all of you, to fight it out, valiantly,
for all of you that fall this day I see Heaven's gates open to receive
you."
But the enemy approaching, they immediately drew up eight
horse, with Cameron on the right; the rest, with valiant Hackston
on the left, and the foot in the centre ; where they all behaved with
much bravery, until overpowered by a superior number. At last,
Hackston was taken prisoner, as will afterwards be more fully nar-
rated. Cameron was killed on the spot, and his head and hands cut
off by one Murray, and taken to Edinburgh. The headless body was
thrown into a hole in Ayr's Moss. Upon a green hillock in the
Moss, a simple tombstone marks his grave. Solemn recollections
have often been elicited at Cameron's grave, and sublime expressions
♦ It is said Earlshall got £500, and Ochiltree 10,000 merks. However, some time
after, one morning about break of day, a fiery pillar of a bloody colour, seemingly about
two yards long, was seen hanging about that house. The same day, about two o'clock
afternoon, the castle took fire, and was, with charters, plate, and all, burnt down to the
ground. The son said to the father while it was burning, " This is the vengeance of
Cameron's blood ." That house was never built — forthe new house, estate, and all, are gone
from that race to others.
a
RICHARD CAMERON. 509
uttered on tlie hallowed spot. Here a little afterwards, did Peden
sit down. He meekly raised his eyes to heaven, and ejaculated,
" Oh to be wi Eitchie!" Peden, too, had his full share of troubles,
and when these were over, his ashes at length reposed not far from
Cameron's.
His father being in prison for the same cause, they carried the
head and hands to him, to add grief unto his former sorrow, inquiring
if he knew them. Taking his son's head and hands, which were
very fair — being a man of a fair complexion, like himself — he kissed
them and said : — " I know, I know them ; they are my son's, my
own dear son's ; it is the Lord ; good is the will of the Lord, who
cannot wrong me nor mine, but has made goodness and mercy to
follow us all our days !" After which, by order of the Council, our
Worthy's head was fixed upon the IN'ether-bow port, and his hands
beside it, with the fingers upward.
Thus this valiant soldier and minister of Jesus Christ came to his
end, after he had been not only highly instrumental in turning many
souls unto God, but also in lifting up a faithful standard for his royal
Lord and Master, against all his enemies, and the defections and
sinful compliances of that time. One of his and Christ's declared
enemies, when he looked at his head at Edinburgh, gave him this
testimony : — " There's the head and hands of a man who lived pray-
ing and preaching, and died praying and fighting." And wherever
the faithful contendings of the once famous covenanted church of
Scotland are honourably made mention of, this, to his honour, shall
be recorded of him.
After he was slain, there was found upon him a short paper, or
bond of mutual defence, which the reader will find inserted in
Wodrow's History, and in the Appendix to the Cloud of Witnesses;
There are some few of his letters now published with Mr. Renwick's
Collection of Letters, but the only sermon of his that appeared in
l^rint formerly, is the one preached at Carluke, entitled. Good J^ews
to Scotland, published in 1733. He wrote also in Defence of the
Sanquhar Declaration, but we can give no account of its ever being
published. Some more of his sermons have lately been given to the
world.
510 SCOTS WORTHIES.
DAVID HACKSTON OF RATHILLET.
David Hackston of Eathillet, in Fifeshire, is said in his younger
years to have given no symptom of religious feeling, until it pleased
the Lord, in his infinite goodness, to incline him to hear the gospel
then preached in the fields, in consequence of which he became
such a tnie convert, that after a mature deliberation upon the contro-
verted points of the principles of religion in that period, he at last
embarked himself in that noble cause, for which he afterwards suf-
fered, with a full resolution to stand and fall with the despised, per-
secuted people, cause, and interest, of Jesus Christ.
Hackston does not seem to have distinguished himself by any pub-
lic appearance, until the 3d of May, 1679, when we find him, with
other eight gentlemen, going in quest of one Carmichael, who had
been commissioned by the archbishop to harass and persecute all he
could find in the shire of Fife, for nonconformity ; but not finding
him, when they were ready to drop the search, they providentially
met with their arch enemy himself. So soon as they descried his
coach, one of them said, " It seems that the Lord had delivered him
into our hands ;" and proposed that they should choose one for their
leader, whose orders the rest were to obey. Upon this Hackston was
chosen for their commander, but he refused, in consequence of a dif-
ference subsisting betwixt Sharp and him in a civil process, wherein
he judged himself to have been wronged by the primate ; which
deed he thought would give the world ground to think it w^as out of
personal pique and revenge. They then chose another, and came up
wi#i the coach, got the bishop out, and wounded him. When he
fell to the ground, they ordered him to pray ; but instead of that,
seeing Rathillet at some distance, — having never alighted from his
horse, — he crept towards him on his hands and his feet, and said,
'' Sir, I know you are a gentleman, you will protect me." — To which
he answered, " I shall never lay a hand on you." At last he was
killed ; after which every one approved or condemned the action
just as their inclination moved them. However, the deed was
wholly charged upon him and his brother-in-law, Balfour of Kinloch,
although he had no active hand in it.
DAVID HACKSTON OF RATHILLET. 511
About the latter end of the same month of May, that he might not
be found wanting to the Lord's cause upon any emergency, Ilack-
ston, with some friends from Fifeshire, made common cause with a
few Covenanters at Evandale, where, after the declaration, subse-
quently called the liutherglen Declaration, had been drawn up by
himself and Mr. Hamilton, he repaired along with Mr. Douglas to
the market-cross of that same town, and upon the anniversary day,
the 29th of May, where they extinguished the bonfires, and publish-
ed the said testimony, they returned to Evandale, w^here they were
attacked by Claverhouse, upon the first of June, near Dromclog.
riackston was on this occasion appointed one of the commanding-
oflicers,- —Mr. Hamilton being commander-in-chief, where he behaved
with much valour and gallantry during that skirmish. After this,
Hackston was a very useful instrument among that faithful remnant,
to which his repeated protests against the corrupt and Erastian party
bear witness. He had also an active hand in the most part of the
public transactions among them, until that fatal day, the 22d of
June, where he and his troop of horse were the last upon the field of
battle at Bothwell -bridge.
But this worthy and religious gentleman being now declared a
rebel to the king — though no rebel to Zion's King — and a proclama-
tion issued out, offering a reward of 10,000 merks to any who could
inform against, or apprehend, either him, or any of those concerned
in the death of the archbishop of St. Andrew's, he was obliged to re-
tire out of the w^ay for about a year, during which time he did not
neglect to attend the gospel in the fields, wherever he could hear it
faithfully preached. But it could not be expected that this should
continue long ; and accordingly, upon the 22d of July, 1 680, having
been a few days with that little party, who attended Mr. Richard
Cameron at Ayr's-Moss, they were surprised by Bruce of Earlshall,
Airley's troop, and Strachan's dragoons.
Being commander-in-chief of that little band, when he saw the
enemy approaching fast, he rode ofi:', followed by the rest, for the
purpose of securing proper vantage-ground ; but seeing that this
could not be obtained, they turned back, and drew^ up quickly, eight
horse being on the right, and fifteen on the left, and the foot, who
were but Ill-armed, in the centre. He then asked if they were all
willing to fight; and, receiving a favourable answ^er, both armies ad-
vanced. A strong party of the enemy's horse coming hard upon
them, our horsemen fired, killing and wounding several of them, both
horse and foot. Upon this they advanced to the enemy's very faces,
where, after giving and receiving fire, Hackston being in front, and
finding the horse behind him in disorder, galloped in among them,
but escaped w^ithout any damage; however, being assailed by several,
with w^iom he fought a long time, he at length stuck in a bog ; when
the foremost of them, one Ramsay, an old acquaintance, followed him
in, and being on foot, they fought for some time w-ith small swords,
with but little advantage on either side. Closing at length, he was
struck down by three of the dragoons, w^ho, coming behind him,
wounded him severely on the head. After this he was with the rest
of the prisoners carried to the rear, where they gave them all the
612 SCOTS WORTHIES.
character* of brave, resolute men. lie was next brought to Douglas,
and from thence to Lanark, where Dalziel tlireatened to roast hiia,
alive for not satisfying him with answers. After which he and other
three prisoners were taken to Edinburgh, where, by order of the
council, they were received by the magistrates at the Watergate.
Hackston was set on a horse's bare back, with his face backward, and
the other three laid on a bar of iron, and carried up the street, with
Mr. Cameron's head on a halbert before them, to the Parliament
Close, where Ilackstou was taken down, and the rest loosed by the
hands of the hangman.
He was immediately brought before the council, where his indict-
ment was read by the chancellor, and himself examined ; which ex-
amination, and his answers thereto, being elsewheref inserted at
large, it may suffice here to observe, that being asked if he thought
the bishop's death murder? he told them, that he was not obliged to
answer such questions ; yet he would not call it so, but rather say, it
was not murder. Being further asked, if he owned the king's authori-
ty, he replied : — " That though he was not obliged to answer, yet as
as he was permitted to speak, he would say something to that ; — 1.
That there could be no lawful authority but what was of God, and
that no authority stated in a direct opposition to God, could be of
God, and that he knew of no authority nor justiciary this day in these
nations, but what were in a direct opposition to God, and so could
neither be of God, nor lawful ; and that their fruits were evincing it,
because they were setting murderers, sorcerers, and such others, at
liberty from justice, and employing them in their service, and mak-
ing it their whole work to oppress, kill, and destroy the Lord's peo-
ple." Bishop Paterson asked, " If ever Pilate and that judicature
who were direct enemies to Christ, were disowned by him as judges ?"
to which he said, "he would answer no perjured prelate in the na-
tion." Paterson replied, " He could not be called perjured, since he
never took that sacrilegious covenant." Hackston answered, " That
God would own that Covenant, when none of them were to oppose
it." Notwithstanding these bold, free, and open answers, they
threatened him with torture ; but this he altogether disregarded.
Being brought again before the council on the 20th, his answers
were much to the same purpose. The chancellor called him a vicious
man : he replied, " that while he was so, he had been acceptable to
him; but now, when otherwise, it was different." Being asked
whether, " if set at liberty, he would own that cause with his blood,"
be answered, " that both their fathers had owned it with the hazard
of their blood before him." Then he was called by all a murderer.
He answered, " God should decide it betwixt them, to whom he re-
ferred it, who were the greatest murderers in his sight." Bishop
♦ Some of these bloody enemies said, that that handful were men of the greatest courage
that ever they set their faces to fight against, although they had been at battles abroad:
and that if they had been as well trained, horsed, and armed, as they were, they would
surely have been put to flight. Few of them escaped ; for their shots and strokes were
deadly, of which few recovered ; for though there were but nine of the Covenanters killed,
yet there were twenty-eight of the enemy killed, or died of their wounds in a few days.—
Walker's Memoirs^ p. 56.
t See his Letters and Answers in the Cloud of Witnesses.
DAVID HACKSTON OF RATHILLET. 513
Paterson's brother, in conference, told him, that the whole council
found that he was a man of great parts, and also of good birth.
Hackston said, for his birth he was related to the best in the king-
dom, which he thought little of; and for his parts, they were very
small ; yet he trusted so much to the goodness of that cause for which
he was a prisoner, that if they would give God that justice as to let
his cause be debated, he doubted not to plead it with all that spake
against it.
Upon the 27th he was taken before the court of justiciary, where
he declined the king's authority as an usurper of the prerogative of
the Son ot God, whereby he had involved the land in idolatry, per-
jury, and other wickedness ; and declined them, as exercising under
him the supreme power over the church, usurped from Jesus Christ,
and therefore durst not, with his own consent, sustain them as com-
petent judges ; regarding them as open and stated enemies to the
living God, and competitors for his throne and power, belonging to
him only.
On the 29th he was brought to trial, when the council, in a most
unprecedented way, appointed the manner of his execution ; for they
well knew his judges would find him guilty. Upon Friday the 80th,
being brought again before them, and asked if he had any more to
say ; he answered, — " What I have said I will seal." They then told
him they had somewhat to say to him, commanding him to sit down
and receive his sentence. He complied, but at the same time, told
them they were all murderers ; for all they had was derived from,
tyranny ; and that these years bygone, they had not only tyrannized
over the church of God, but also grinded the faces of the poor ; so
that oppression, perjury, and bloodshed, were to be found in their skirts.
Upon this he was removed from the bar, drawn backward on a
hurdle to the place of execution at the cross of Edinburgh. None
were sufibred to attend him but two bailies, the executioner, and his
servants. He was permitted to pray to God, but not to speak to the
people. Having reached the scaffold, his right hand was struck off,
and a little after his left ; which he endured with great firmness and
constancy. The executioner being long in cutting oft* the right hand,
he desired him to strike on the joint of the left; which being done,
he was drawn up to the top of the gallows with a' pulley, and suffered
to fall dawn from a considerable height upon the lower scaftbld, three
times, with his whole weight, and then fixed at the top of the gibbet ;
after which the executioner, with a large knife cut open his breast,
and pulled out his heart before he was dead; for it moved when it
fell on the scaftbld. The monster then stuck his knife in it, and
showed it on all sides to the people, crying, " Here is the heart of a
traitor!" At last he threw it into a fire prepared for that purpose;
and, having quartered his body, his head was fixed on the Nether
Bow ; one of his quarters, with liis hands, at St. Andrew's ; another
at Glasgow ; a third at Leith, and the fourth at Burntisland. — Thus
fell this champion for the cause of Christ, a sacrifice to prelatic fury,
to gratify the lust and ambition of wicked and bloody men. But
Hackston's memory still lives ; — though whether his courage, con-
stancy, or faithfulness, had the pre-eminence, it is hard to determine.
33
514 SCOTS WORTHIES.
ROBERT KER OF KERSLAND.
The subject of this brief memoir, having been born and educated in
a very religious family, began early to discover more than an ordi-
nary zeal for religion. His first public appearance was in 1666, about
November 26, when he, Caldwell, and some others of the Eenfrew
gentlemen, gathered themselves together, and marched eastward to
join colonel Wallace, and that little handful who renewed the Cove-
nants at Lanark. Having heard that general Dalziel was by that
time got betwixt them and their friends, they were obliged to dis-
miss. This could not escape the know^ledge of the managers ; for
the laird of Blackstown, one of their own number, upon a promise of
pardon informed against the rest, and ensured his own safety by ac-
cusing his neighbour. — But of this he had nothing to boast of after-
wards.
Kersland was after this obb'ged to remove out of the way ; and next
year he was forfeited in his life and fortune, and bis estate given to
lieutenant-general Drummond of Cromlie, and his lands in Beith to
William Blair of that Ilk; which estate they unjustly held till the
Revolution.*
After this, to elude the storm he went over to Holland, and there
chose to live with his family at Utrecht, where he had the advantage
of hearing the gospel, and other excellent conversation. In that place
he continued nearly three years. But his friends thinking it neces-
sary that he should return home to settle some of his affairs, — if pos-
sible,— his lady arrived in the end of 1669, and himself soon after.
To his unspeakable grief, however, he found, when he reached Edin-
burgh, that she was in bad health, in the house of a woman who was
friendly to the sufferers. And though he lodged in a more private
place, and used only to visit his lady in the evenings, one Cannon of
Mardrogate, who had n6t altogether cast off the mask — at least his
treachery and apostasy were not then discovered — having got notice
of it, gave informatijon to the chancellor. Orders were immediately
procured from Lauderdale, who was then in town, to search that
house, on pretence that Mr. Welch was holding conventicles in lady
Kersland's chamber ; but their design w^as for Kersland himself, as
will afterwards appear. Accordingly a party came ; and, finding no
conventicle, were just about to retire, when one Murray from Mar-
drogate, receiving particular information that when any company came
to the room, Kersland in the evening used to retire behind a bed ;
* For a particular account of this gift, see Samson's Riddle, &c., pp. 139, 144,
ROBERT KER OF KERSLAND.
515
and, having a torch in his hand, provided for that end, said, he be-
hoved to search the room; and, going straight behind the bed,
brought him out and charged him to surrender his arms. Kersland
told him he had no arms but the Bible, which was then in his hand,
— a spectacle which was sufficient to condemn him in these times. —
On parting with his lady she showed much calmness and composure,
exhorting him to do nothing that might wound his conscience, out of
regard to her or her children, and repeated that text of Scripture : — -
" Ko man having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is iit
for the kingdom of God."
He was forthwith taken to the guard-house, and from thence to the
Abbey, where a number of the council, that same night, were
assembled for his examination. When brought before them, they
asked him concerning the lawfulness of the appearing at Pentland ;
which he, in plain terms, owned to be lawful and what he thought
duty ; upon w4iich he was immediately imprisoned. When going
away, the chancellor upbraided him with what had passed betwixt
him and his lady ; but he bore it with great patience.
He was nearly three months prisoner in Edinburgh ; after which
he was sent to Dumbarton castle, where he was confined near a year
and a half He was afterwards ordered to Aberdeen, where he was
kept close prisoner, without fire, for three months, in the dead of
winter. From Aberdeen, he was brought to Stirling castle, where
he was detained some years. He was a second time sent back to
Dumbarton, and there kept till October 16Y7. During the severe
sufibrings to which Ker was subjected for a long series of years, his
constancy remained unshaken. By the grace of God he was enabled
to maintain his allegiance to Christ's persecuted cause, even to such
a degree, that the utmost rigours of a prison could not extort from
him a single complaint. Like Paul and Silas he sang praises to God
amidst the gloom of his dungeon, assuring himself that God would at
length work out his deliverance. It was therefore with a joyful heart
he received orders at this time to remove to Irvine, and that he was
to be permitted to take with him his family, who were then in Glas-
gow ; but he was allowed only a short time to transport himself and
family to that place.
In Glasgow he was waited upon by many friends and acquaint-
ances, but on the very night he visited his family, after such a long and
painful absence, when walking in company with lady Caldwell and
her family, he was taken prisoner by a party of the town-guards and
detained in custody till next day, when the commanding-officer would
have set him at liberty, but durst not, till he had consulted the arch-
bishop. Unfortunately the application was unfavourable, and he was
immediately ordered to the tolbooth. The archbishop took horse soon
after for Edinburgh ; lady Kersland followed, if possible, to prevent
misinformation. — In the mean time, a fire breaking out in Glasgow,
the tolbooth being in danger, and the magistrates refusing to let out
the prisoners, the well-affected people of the town got long ladders
and set them free, and among the rest Kersland, after he had been
eight years in confinement. After the bustle was over, he inclined
to surrender himself anew, but hearing from his lady of the arch-
516 SCOTS WORTHIILS.
bishop's design, he kept under hiding all that winter.* In the spring
and summer followirtg, he joined himself to the persecuted ministers,
heard the gospel preached in the fields, and attended communions,
particularly that at May bole. About the beginning of autumn, 1678,
he returned to Utrecht, where he remained till the day of his death.
When near his departure, his dear acquaintance Sir Robert Ilamil-
ton being with him, and signifying to him that he might be spared
as another Caleb to see the good land when the storm was over ; he
said to him among his last words, " What is man before the Lord ?
— yea, what is a nation ? — as the drop of a bucket or the small dust
in the balance ; yea, less than nothing and vanity. But this much
I can say in humility, that through free grace I have endeavoured to
keep the post that God had assigned me. These fourteen yeai-s I
have not desired to lift the one foot, before God showed me where to
set down the other," — and so, in a few minutes he finished his course
with joy, and fell asleep in Jesus, IS^ovember 14, 1680, leaving his
wife and five children, in a strange land.
It would be superfluous to insist here upon the character of the
thrice renowned Ker. It is evident to all that he was a man of a
great mind, far above a servile and mercenary disposition. — He was,
for a number of years, hurried from place to place, and guarded from
prison to prison. All this, however, he endured with undaunted
courage. — He lost a good estate for the cause of Christ ; and though
he got not the martyr's crown, yet he beyond all doubt obtained the
sunerer's reward.
I DONALD CARGILL.
The precise period of CargilPs birth is not exactly known, but it i»
supposed to have been about the year 1610. He was eldest son
of a much respected family in the parish of Rattray. After he had
been some time at school in Aberdeen, be went to St. Andrew's,
where, having completed his course of philosophy, his father pressed
him much to study divinity, in order for the ministry ; but he, from
conscientious motives, constantly refused, telling his father that the
work of the ministry was too great a burden for his weak shoulders.
But his father still continuing to urge him, he resolved to set apart a
* It would appear, says Wodrow, that he was retaken about the end of that year, but
liberated without conditions, — a thing very uncommon in those times.
DONALD CARGILL.
517
day for private fasting, to seek the Lord's mind therein. And after
much wrestling with the Lord in prayer, the third chapter of Ezekiel,
and chiefly these words in the first verse, " Son of man, eat that thou
findest ; eat this roll, and go speak unto the house of Israel," made a
strong impression upon his mind, so that he durst no longer refuse his
father's desire, but dedicated himself wholly to that office.
After this he got a call to the Barony church of Glasgow. It was
so ordered by divine providence, that the very first text appointed
him by the presbytery was these words in the third of Ezekiel, already
mentioned, by which he was more confirmed, that he had God's call
to the ministerial work. This parish had been long vacant, by reason
of two ministers of the Resolution party, viz., Messrs. Young and
Blair, having always opposed the settlement of such godly men as
had been called by the people. In reference to Cargill's call, they
were, however, in God's providence, much shaken in their former re-
solutions. Cargill, perceiving the light and unconcerned behaviour
of the people under the word, was so much discouraged that he re-
solved to return home, and not accept the call. The ministers soli-
cited him to stay, but in vain. When his horse was brought out,
however, and he just going to begin his journey, a certain godly
woman said to him, " Sir, you have promised to preach on Thursday,
and have you appointed a meal for poor starving people, and will
you go away and not give it ? If you do, the curse of God will
go with you." This so moved him, that he durst not go away as he
intended ; but sitting down, desired her and others to pray for him.
So he remained and was settled in that parish, where he continued
to exercise his ministry with great success, until that, by the unhappy
Restoration of Charles II., prelacy was again restored.
Upon the 29th of May following, the day consecrated in comme-
moration of the said Restoration, Cargill having occasion to preach
in his own church, — it being his ordinary week-day preaching, — an
unusual throng of people came to hear him, imagining that he
preached in compliance with the solemnity. They were soon unde-
ceived, however ; for, in entering the pulpit, he said, " We are not
come here to keep this day upon the account for which others keep
it. We thought once to have blessed the day wherein the king came
home again, but now we think we shall have reason to curse it ; and
if any of you have come here in order to solemnize this day, ' we
desire you to remove.' " And enlarging upon these words in the 9th
of Hosea, " Rejoice not, O Israel," &c., he said, " This is the first
step of our departing from God ; and whoever of the Lord's people
this day are rejoicing, their joy will be like the crackling of thorns
under a pot ; it w^ill soon be turned to mourning ; he — meaning the
king — will be the most woful sight that ever the poor Church of
Scotland saw ; — Wo, wo, wo unto him, his name shall stink while the
world stands, for treachery, tyranny, and lechery !"
This extremely enraged the malignant party against him, so that
he was obliged to abscond, remaining sometimes in private houses,
and sometimes lying all night without, yet never neglecting any pro-
per occasion of private preaching, catechizing, visiting of families,
and other ministerial duties. The churches being all vacated of
518 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Presbj'terians by an act of council, 1662, Middleton sent a band of
' soldiers to apprehend Cargill, who for this purpose came to the
church, but did not find him, lie having providentially just stepped
out of the one door a minute before they came in at the other ; upon
which they took the keys of the church door with them and departed.
In the mean time the council passed an act of confinement, banishing
him to the north side of the Tay, under the penalty of being im-
Srisoned, and prosecuted as a seditious person, — but this sentence he
isregarded.
In October, 1665, they made a public search for him in the city ;
of which receiving information, he took horse, and rode out of town.
At a narrow pass of the way, he met a number of soldiers, one of
whom asked him, " Sir, what o'clock is it ?" Cargill answered, " It
is six. Another of them knowing his voice, said, " That is the man
we are seeking." Upon hearing this he put spurs to his horse and
escaped.
For about three years he usually resided in the house of one
Margaret Craig, a very godly woman, where he lectured morning
and evening to such as came to hear him ; and, though a strict search
was still kept up, through the kindness of Providence he was enabled
to avoid discovery. One sabbath, going to Woodside to preach, as
he was about to mount his horse, having one foot in the stirrup, he
turned about to his servant, and said, I must not go yonder to-day,
— and in a little a party of the enemy came in quest of him ; but
missing their mark, they fell upon the people, by apprehending and
imprisoning several of them.
At another time when a search was made for Cargill in the city,
they came to his chamber, but found him not, he fortunately being in
another house at the time. One day when preaching privately in the
house of Mr. Callander, they came and surrounded the doors, but the
people put him and another into a window, which they closed up
with books. The search was so strict, that they searched the very
ceiling of the house, until one of them fell through the lower loft.
Had they removed but one of the books, they would certainly have
found him. But the Lord so ordered that they did it not ; for, as
one of the soldiers was about to take up one of them, the maid cried
to the commander, that he was going to take her niaster's books, and
he was ordered to let theni alone. Thus narrowly he escaped this
danger.
Thus he continued until the 23d of IS'ovember, 1667, that the coun-
cil, upon information of a breach of his confinement, cited him to
appear before them on the 11th of January thereafter. Being appre-
hended, he was brought before the council and strictly examined ;
but by the interposition of some persons of rank, however, his own
friends, and his wife's relations, he was dismissed. He returned im-
mediately to Glasgow, where he performed all the ministerial duties
in his own church as formerly, notwithstanding the diligence of per-
secutors in searching for him.
Some time before Bothwell, notwithstanding the search made for
him by the enemy, which was both strict and frequent, he preached
publicly for eighteen Sabbath-days, to audiences consisting of several
DONALD CARGILL. 5I9
thousands, within little more than a quarter of a mile of the city of
Glasgow ; yea, so near it, that the psalms, when singing, were heard
through several parts of it ; and yet all this time uninterrupted.
At Both well, being taken by the enemy, and struck down to the
ground with a sword, he saw nothing but present death, as he had
already received several dangerous w^mnds in the head. One of the
soldiers asked his name ; he told him it was Donald Cargill ; another
asked him if he was a minister ? he answered he was ; whereupon
he let him go. When his wounds were examined, he feared to ask
if they were mortal, desiring in submission to God to live, judging
that the Lord had yet further work for him to accomplish.
Some time after the battle at Bothwell, he was pursued from his
own chamber out of town, and forced to go through several thorn
hedges ; but he was no sooner out than he saw a troop of dragoons
just opposite to him. Back he could not go, soldiers being posted
everywhere to catch him ; upon which he advanced near to the troop,
who looked at him, and he at them, until he got past. But, coming
to a ]3lace of the water at which he intended to cross, he saw another
troop standing on the other side, who called to him. Without mak-
ing any answer he went about a mile up the water and escaped,
preaching next Sabbath at Langside without any interruption. At
another time, being in a house beset with, soldiers, he went through
the midst of them, they thinking it was the goodman of the house.*
Some time after the beginning of the year 1680, he retired
toward the Firth of Forth, where he continued until that scuffle at
Queensferry, where worthy Haugh-head was killed, and Cargill
sorely wounded. But, escaping, he was found by a woman in a
private place, to the south of the town, who tied up his wounds with
her head-dress, and conducted him to the house of one Eobert Pon-
ton, in Carlowrie, where a surgeon dressed them. Mrs. Ponton gave
him some warm milk and he lay in their barn all night. From thence
lie went to the south, and preached at Cairnhill, somewhere adjacent
to Loudon, in his blood and wounds ; for no danger could stop him
from going about doing good. His text was in Ileb. xi. 32. — " And
what shall I more say, for time would fail me to tell of Gideon," &c.
At night, some persons said to him, " We think. Sir, preaching and
l)raying go best with you when your danger and distress are great-
est." He said it had been so, and he hoped it would be so ; the more
that enemies and others did thrust at him that he might fall, the more
sensibly the Lord had helped him ; and then — as it had been to
himself — he repeated these words, " The Lord is my strength and
song, and has become my salvation." — in the 118th Psalm, which
was the Psalm he sung upon the scaffold.
After this, Cargill and Mr. Richard Cameron met and preached
together in Dermeid-moor, and other places, until Mr. Cameron was
slain at Ayr's-moss ; after which he went north, where, in the month
of September following, he held a most numerous meeting at the Tor-
wood, near Stirling, where he pronounced the sentence of excommu-
* It appears that it was about this time that he went over to Holland, but we have no
certain account where or wht>t time he staid there; but from the sequel, it could not be
long.
520 SCOTS WORTHIES.
nication against some of the most violent persecutors of that day, as
formally as the state of things could then permit. Some time before
this, it is said he was very reserved, and spoke very little in com-
pany ; — only to some he said, he had a blast to give with the trumpet
that the Lord had put in his hand, that would sound in the ears of
many in Britain, and other places in Europe also. It is said* that
no person knew. what he was to do that morning, except Mr. Walter
Smith, to whom he imparted the thoughts of his heart. When he
began, some friends feared he would be shot. His landlord, in whose
house he had been that night, cast his coat and ran for it. In the
forenoon, he lectured on Ezek. xxi. 25, &c., and preached on 1 Cor.
V. 13, and, having discoursed some time on the nature of excommu-
nication, he proceeded to the sentence ; after which, in the afternoon,
he preached from Lam. iii. 31, 32. — " For the Lord will not cast ofi*
for ever," &c.
The next Lord's day, he preached at Fallow-hill, in the parish of
Livingstone. In the outset he said, " I know I am and will be con-
demned by many for excommunicating those wicked men, but con-
demn me who will, I know I am approved of by God, and am per-
suaded that what I have done on earth is ratified in heaven ; for, if
ever I knew the mind of God, and was clear in my call to any piece
of my generation-work, it was that. And I shall give you two signs,
that ye may know I am in no delusion. 1 — If some of these men do
not find that sentence binding upon them, ere they go off the stage,
and be obliged to confess it, &c. 2. — If these men die the ordinary
death of men, then God hath not spoken by me."t ^
About the 22d of October following, a long and severe proclama- ;
tion was issued out against him and his followers, wherein a reward '
of 5000 merks was ofi^ered for apprehending him. — 'Next month, gov- ;
ernor Middleton, having been frustrated in his design upon Cargill at '
Queensferry, laid another plot for him, by consulting one James I
Henderson there, who, by forging and signing letters, in the name of ■
Bailie Adam in Culross, and some other serious Christians in Fife, "
for Cargill to come over and preach to them at the Hill of Beith.
Accordingly Henderson went to Edinburgh with the letters, and,
after a most diligent search, found him in the West Bow. Cargill
being willing to obey the call, Henderson proposed to go before, and
have a boat ready at Queensferry when they came ; and, that he
might know them, he desired to see Cargill's cloth, Mr. Skeen and
Mr. Boig being in the same room. In the mean time he had Mid-
dleton's soldiers lying at Muttonhole, about three miles from Edin-
burgh. Mr. Skeen, Archibald Stuart, Mrs. Muir, and Marion Har-
vey, took the way before on foot, — Cargill and Mr. Boig being to
follow on horseback. As soon as the former came up the soldiers
spied them ; but Mrs. Muir, suspecting treachery, returned and
fctoj)ped Cargill and Mr. Boig, who fled back to Edinburgh.
* See Walker's Remarkable Passages of the Life of Cargill, &c., p. 8.
t The first of these was clearly verified in the case of Lord Rothes, and the second was
verified, in the remembrance of some )'et alive. Every person knov.'s that Charles IL was
jioisoned. His brother, the duke of York, died at St. Germain's in France. The duke of
Monmouth was executed at London. The duke of York died, raving under the dreadful
terror of that sentence. Bloody Sir George M'Kenzie died at London, all the passages of
his body running blood. General Dalziel died with a glass of wine at his mouth, in per-
fect ^eaJth. See Walker's Remarks, p. 10
DONALD CARGILL. 521
After this remarkable escape, Cargill, seeing nothing but the Tio-
lent flames of treachery against him, retired for about three months
to England, where the Lord blessed his labours to the conviction and
edification of many. In the time of his absence that delusion of the
Gibbites arose, from one John Gib, sailor in Borrowstounness, who,
with other three men, and twenty-six women, invented and main-
tained the most strange delusions. Some time after, Cargill returned
from England, and was at no small pains to reclaim them, but with
little success. After his last conference w^ith them,* at Darngavel,
in Cambusnethan parish, he came next sabbath, and preached at
Kirkfieldbank wood, below Lanark, and from thence to Loudon-hill,
where he preached upon a fast-day, being the 5th of May. Here he
intended only to have preached once, and to have baptized some
children. His text was, — " ]^o man that hath followed me in the
regeneration," &c. When sermon was over, and the children bap-
tized, more children came up; upon which his friends pressed him
to preach in the afternoon, which he did, from these words, — "Weep
not for me," &c. In the mean while the enemy at Glasgow getting
notice of this meeting, seized all the horses in and about the town
that they could obtain, and mounted in quest of him ; and such was
their haste and fury, that one of the soldiers, who happened to be
behind the rest, riding furiously down the street called the Stock-
well, at mid-day, rode over a female child, and killed her on the
spot. Just as Cargill was praying at the close, a lad alarmed them
of the enemy's approach. They having no sentinels that day, con-
trary to their usual custom, were thrown into sudden surprise ; and,
with the confusion, Cargill was running straight on the enemy, when
Gavin Wotherspoon and others haled him to the Moss, to which the
people had all fled. The dragoons fired hard upon them; but there
were none either killed or taken that day.
About this time, some spoke to Cargill of his short sermons and
prayers. They said, " O, Sir, it is long betwixt meals, and we are in
a starving condition ; all is good, sweet, and wholesome that you
dfeliver, but why do. you so straiten us?" He said, "Ever since I
bowed a knee in good earnest to pray, I never durst preach, and pray
with my gifts ; and when my heart is not aifected, and comes not up
with my mouth, I always think it time to quit it. What comes not
from the heart, I have little hope it will go to the hearts of others."
Then he repeated these words in the 51st Psalm, — " Then I will teach
transgressors thy way," &c.
From Loudon-hill he took a tour through Ayrshire to Carrick and
Galloway, preaching, baptizing, and marrying some people ; but
stayed not long until he returned to Clydesdale. He designed, after
his return, to have preached one day at Tinto-hill, but the lady of St.
John's Kirk circulated a report that it was to be at Home common.
Being in the house of John Liddel, near Tinto, he went out to spend
the Sabbath morning by himself; and, seeing the people passing by,
* About this time the Gibbites were all taken and imprisoned in the tolbooth and cor-
rection-house of Edinburgh, but, by the Duke of York and his faction, were soon libe-
rated : after which four men and two women went west to the Frost-moss, betwixt Airth
and Stirling, where they burnt the Holy Bible, every one of them using expressions at
that horrid action which are fearful to utter.
522 SCOTS WORTHIES.
he inquired the reason ; and, being told, he rose and followed them
for the space of five miles. Here he lectured on the 6th of Isaiah,
and preached on these words, " Be not high minded, but fear," &c.
This occurred in the heat of summer, and many people were assem-
bled before his arrival, so he had just time to take the only refresh-
ment he had got that day — a drink of water from a stream, handed
to him in an old man's blue bonnet. Thus simply refreshed, he
preached all day, and, in the course of his sermon, gave a most
weary look to Tinto-hill, crying, " He feared many places of Scotland
would yet be as waste as that dreary hill."
The next Sabbath he preached at the Benry-bridge, betwixt
Clydesdale and West Lothian, aud either in the parish ot' Carnwath
or that of West Calder. There he lectured from Zechariah, chapter
iii., on Joshua standing before the angel ; and preached from Psalm
xlv., 3, "Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O thou most Mighty, with
thy glory and thy majesty." From the Benry-bridge he went to
Fife, and baptized many children, and preached only one Sabbath at
the Lomond Hills, from which place he hastened back to Clydesdale,
and came to the Benty-ridge in Cambusnethan, where were two
friends sent from the societies in Galloway, to call him back there to
baptize. The next Sabbath, after he went from the foresaid Benty-
ridge, he preached at Auchingilloch. He then returned to preach
his last sermon on Dunsyre common, between Clydesdale and Lo-
thian, upon that text. Is. xxvi., 20, — "Come, my people, enter thou
into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee : hide thyself as it
were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast."
Some time that night, through the persuasion of Mr. Smith and
Mr. Boig, he went with the lady of St. John's Kirk, as far as Coving-
ton-mill, to the house of one Andrew Fisher. In the mean time,
James Irvine of Bonshaw, having got a general commission, marched
with a party of dragoons from Kilbride, and next morning by sun-
rise, came to St. John's Kirk, when, after searching it, he proceeded
for a similar purpose to the house of one Thomson, and then came to
Covington-mill, and there apprehended Cargill, along with Mr.
Smith and Mr. Boig. Having found them, the ruffian exclaimed,
" O blessed Bonshaw ! and blessed day that ever I was born ! that
has found such a prize ! a prize of 5,000 merks for apprehending
Cargill this morning !" They marched speedily to Lanark, where
they were put in jail, until they got some refreshment, and then
bringing them out in haste, procured horses and set the prisoners on
their bare backs. Bonshaw tied Cargill's feet below the horse's
belly, with his own hands, so very cruelly that Cargill looking down,
said, " Why do you tie me so hard, your wickedness is great ? You
will not long escape the just judgment of God; and, if I be not mis-
taken, it will seize you in this very place :" which accordingly next
year came to pass ; for, having got this price of blood, one of his
comrades, in a rage, ran him through with a sword at Lanark; and
his last words were, "G — d d n my soul eternally, for I am
gone !" — Mischief shall hunt the violent man."
They came to Glasgow in haste, fearing a rescue of the prisoners
and, while waiting at the tolbooth till the magistrates came to receive
DONALD CARGILL. 523
them, one John ]!^isbet, tlie archbishop's factor, said to Cargill in
ridicule, three times over, " Will jou give us one word more?" —
alluding to an expression Cargill used sometimes when preaching ; —
to whom Cargill said with regret, '' Mock not, lest your bands be
made strong ! The day is coming, when you shall not have one
word to say, though you would." This also came quickly to pass ;
for, not many days after, he fell suddenly ill, and for three days his
tongue swelled ; and, though he was most earnest to speak, yet he
could not command one word, and died in great torment, and seem-
ing terror.
From Glasgow they were taken to Edinburgh, and, upon the loth
of July, they were brought before the council. Chancellor Rothes
— being one of those whom he excommunicated at Torwood — raged
against him, threatening him with torture and a violent death, to
whom he said, " My lord Rothes, forbear to threaten me, for, die
what death I will, your eyes shall not see it ;" which accordingly
came to pass, for he died the morning of the same day on which
Cargill was executed.
When before the council, he was asked " if he acknowledged the
king's authority," to which he replied, " that he denied the magis-
trate's authority as now established by act of parliament, and ex-
planatory act." Being also examined anent the excommunication at
Torwood, he declined to answer, as being an ecclesiastical matter,
and they a civil judicatory. He owned the lawfulness of defensive
arms, in cases of necessity, and denied that those who rose at Both-
well, &c., were rebels ; and, being interrogated anent the Sanquhar
Declaration, he declined to give his judgment until he had more time
to consider the contents thereof. He further declared he could not
express his sentiments in reference to the killing of the bishop ; but '
that the Scriptures say, upon the Lord's giving a call to a private
man to kill, he might do it lawfully ; and gave the instances of Jael
and Phinehas. These were the most material points on which he
was examined.*
While he was in prison, a gentlewoman who visited him, told him,
weeping, " That these Heaven-daring enemies were contriving a
most violent death for him ; some, a barrel with pikes to roll him in ;
others an iron chair, red-hot, to roll him in," &c. ; but he said, " Let
you nor none of the Lord's people be troubled for these things, for all
that they will get liberty to do to me, will be to knit me up, cut me
down, and chop off my old head, and then fare them well ; they have
done with me, and I with them for ever."
Cargill was again brought before the council on the 19th, but re-
fused to answer their questions, except anent the excommunication.
There was some motion made to spare him, as he was an old man,
and send him prisoner to the Bass during life ; which motion being
put to a vote, was, by the casting vote of the Earl of Rothes, rejected,
who doomed him to the gallows, there to die like a traitor.
Upon the 26th he w^as brought before the justiciary, and indicted
in common form. His confession being produced in evidence against
him, he was brought in guilty of high treason, and condemned, with
* See his examination, &c., at large in Wodrow's Hist. Vol. ii. p. 184.
524 SCOTS WORTHIES.
the rest, to be banged at tbe cross of Edinburgh,, and his head placed
on the Nether l^ow. When they came to these words in his indict-
ment, viz., " having cast off all fear of God, &c.," he caused the
clerk to stop, and, pointing to the advocate, Sir George M'Kenzie,
said, " The man that hath caused that paper to be drawn up, hath
done it contrary to the light of his own conscience, for he knoweth
that I have been a fearer of God from mine infancy ; but that man,
I say, who took the Holy Bible in his hand, and said, It would never
be well with the land, until that book be destroyed, &c., I say, he is
the man that hath cast off all fear of God." the advocate stormed
at this, but could not deny the truth thereof.
When he got his sentence announced by sound of trumpet, he
said, " That is a weary sound ; but the sound of the last trumpet
will be a joyful sound to me, and all that will be found having on
Christ's righteousness."
Being come to the scaffold, he stood with his back to the ladder,
and desired the attention of the numerous spectators ; and, after
singing from the 16th verse of the 118th psalm, he began to speak to
three sorts of people ; but, being interrupted by the drum, he said
with a smiling countenance, '' Ye see we have no liberty to speak
what we would, but God knoweth, our hearts." As he proceeded,
he was again interrupted. Then, after a little pause or silence, he
began to exhort the people, and to show his own comfort in laying
down his life, in the assurance of a blessed eternity, expressing him-
self in these w^ords : — " Now, I am sure of my interest in Christ, and
peace w^ith God, as all within this Bible and the Spirit of God can
make me ; and I am fully persuaded, that this is the very way for
which I suffer, and that he will return gloriously to Scotland ; but it
will be terrifying to many ; therefore, I entreat you, be not dis-
couraged at the way of Christ and the cause for which I am to lay
down my life, and step into eternity, where my soul shall be as full
of him as it can desire to be ; and now this is the sweetest and most
glorious day that ever mine eyes did see. Enemies are now enraged
against the way and people of God, but ere long they shall be en-
raged one against another, to their own confusion." Here the drums
did beat a third time. Then setting his foot on the ladder, he said,
" The Lord knows I go on this ladder with less fear, and perturba-
tion of mind, than ever I entered the pulpit to preach." — ^When up,
he sat down and said : — " Now I am near the getting of the crown,
which shall be sure, for which I bless the Lord, and desire all of you
to bless him, that he hath brought me here, and made me triumph
over devils, men, and sin. They shall wound me no more. I for-
give all men the wrongs they have done to me ; and I pray the suf-
ferei*8 may be kept from sin, and helped to know their duty." Then
having prayed a little within himself, he lifted up the napkin and
said, " Farewell all relations and friends in Christ ; farewell ac-
quaintances and earthly enjoyments ; farewell reading and preach-
ing, praying and believing, wanderings, reproach, and sufterings !
Welcome Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; into thy hands I commit
my Spirit !" Then he prayed a little, and the executioner turned him
WALTER SMITH. 525
over as lie was praying. Thus he finished his course, and the minis-
try that he had received of the Lord.
Take his character from Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston, who was
his contemporary. He was afi*ectionate, affable, and tender-hearted,
to all such as he thought had anything of the image of God in them ;
sober and temperate in his diet, saying commonly, " It was well won
that was won off the flesh ;" generous, liberal, and most charitable to
the poor ; a great hater of covetousness ; a frequent visitor of the
sick ; much alone, loving to be retired ; but when about his Master's
public work, laying hold of every opportunity to edify ; in conversa-
tion, still dropping what might minister grace to the hearers ; his
countenance was edifying to beholders ; often sighing with deep
groans ; preaching in season and out of season, upon all hazards ;
ever the same in judgment and practice. From his youth he was
much given to the duty of secret prayer for whole nights together ;
wherein it was observed, that both in secret and in families, he
always sat straight upon his knees, with his hands lifted up ; and in
this posture — as some took notice — he died with the rope about his
neck.
Besides his last speech and testimony, and several other religious
letters, with the lecture, sermon, and sentence of excommunication at
Torwood, which are all published, there are also several other ser-
mons, and notes of sermons, interspersed among some people's hands,
in print and manuscript, some of which have been published. Yet
if we may believe Walker in his "Eemarkable Passages," who heard
several of them preached, they are, however pathetic, far inferior to
what they would have been, had they been corrected by the author
himself.
WALTER SMITH.
Little more is known of the early history of this eminent scholar and
Christian, than that he was son of Walter Smith in the parish of St
Kinian's, in Stirlingshire. Going over to Holland early in life, he
studied some time under the famous Leusden, who had a great esteem
and value for him, as being one both of high attainments and great
experience in the serious exercise and solid practice of Christianity.
In 1679, we find that he made no mean figure among that little
526 SCOTS WORTHIES.
handful of the Lord's suffering remnant who rose in their own defence
at Botbwell Bridge. He was both chosen clerk to the council of war,
and also a commanding-officer among the Covenanters ; and had the
honour not only to witness and protest against the sinful compliance
of that corrupt Erastian party that then foisted themselves in amongst
them ; but was also one of those three who were then appointed to
draw up the " Causes of the Lord's Wrath " against the land, of
which the " Hamilton Declaration " was to form the last cause, to-
gether, with a new Declaration which they intended to have pub-
lished at that time ; but although both of these were undertaken, yet
they were never published.
After the overthrow and dispersion of the Covenanters at Bothwell,
in which the Erastian party among them had no little hand, it ap-
pears that Smith went over for some time to Holland, where his stay
seems to have been short ; for we find him again with Mr. Cargill at
Torwood, in September, 1680.
He had a longing desire to preach Christ and him crucified, and
salvation through his name. Mr. Cargill had the same desire ; and
for that end, it is said, had written to two ministers to meet him at
Cummerhead in Lesmahagow in Clydesdale ; but ere that day came,
the door was closed, — for they were in the enemy's hands. How-
ever, Smith followed the example of our blessed Lord and Saviour,
in going about doing good, in many places, and to many persons, in
spiritual edifying conversation, and was a singular example of true
piety and zeal ; which had more influence upon many than most
part of the ministers of that day.
A little before his death, he drew up twenty-two rules for fellow-
ship or society meetings, which at that time greatly increased from
the river Tay to Newcastle, and which afterwards settled into a gen-
eral and quarterly correspondence, that so they might speak one with
another when they wanted the public preaching of the gospel, and
appoint general fasting-days through the whole community, wherein
their own sins, and the prevailing sins and defections of the times
were confessed, — each society to meet and spend some time of the
Lord's day together, when deprived of the public ordinances.
But he was now nigh the evening of both his life and his labours ;
for having been with Mr. Cargill when he preached his last sermon
in Dunsyre Common, betwixt Clydesdale and Lothian, he was next
morning apprehended at Covington-Mill by wicked Bonshaw, who
had formerly traded in fine horses betwixt the two kingdoms. He
was, with the rest of the prisoners, carried from Lanark to Glasgow,
and from thence to Edinburgh, where, upon the 14th of July, he was
brought before the council and asked. If he owned the king and his
authority as lawful ? He answered : — " I cannot acknowledge the
present authority the king is now invested with, and the exercise
thereof, being now clothed with a supremacy over the church." Be-
ing interrogated if the king's falling from the Covenant looses him
from his obedience, and if the king thereby loses his authority? — he
answered, " I think he is obliged to perform all the duties of the
Covenant, conform to the word of God ; the king is only to be obeyed
in terms of the Covenant." Being further interrogated anent the
WALTER SMITH. 527
Torwood excommunication, he declared, "he thought their reasons
were just."
On the 19th, he was again brought before them, and interrogated
if he owned the Sanquhar Declaration ? It was then read to him,
and he owned the same in all its articles, except that he looked not
upon these persons as the formal representatives of the Presbyterian
church, as they called themselves. And as to that expression, " The
king should have been denued many years ago," he did not like the
word denued, but said, " What the king has done justifies the peo-
ple's revolting against him." As to these words where the king is
called an usurper and a tyrant, he said, " Certainly the king is an
usurper !" and wished he was not a tyrant.
Upon the 26th, he was with the rest brought before the Justiciary,
where, being indicted in common form, their confessions were pro-
duced as evidences against them, and they were all brought in guilty
of high treason, and condemned to be hanged at the cross of Edin-
burgh, upon the 2Tth, and their heads severed from their bodies ;
those of Messrs. Cargill, Smith, and Boig, to be placed on the ]N'ether
Bow, and the heads of the others on the West Port — all which was
done accordingly.
After Cargill was executed. Smith was brought upon the Scafibld,
where he adhered to the very same cause with Mr. Cargill, declared
the same usurpation of Christ's crown and dignity, and died with
great assurance of his interest in Christ, declaring his abhorrence of
popery, prelacy, erastianism, and all other steps of defection. He
went up the ladder with all signs of cheerfulness, and when the ex-
ecutioner was about to untie his cravat, he would not suffer him, but
untied it himself ; and, calling to his brother, he threw it down, say-
ing, " This is the last token you shall get from me !" After the nap-
kin was drawn over his face, he uncovered it again, and said, " I
have one word more to say," and that is, " to all who have any love
to God and his righteous cause, that they would set time apart, and
sing a song of praise to the Lord ; for w^hat he has done for my soul
— and my soul saith, To him be praise !" Then the napkin being let
down, he was turned over praying, and died in the Lord, with his
face resting upon Mr. Cargill's breast. These two cleaved to one
another in love and unity in their life ; and, between them, in their
death, there was no disparity : — " Saul and Jonathan were lovely
and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not
divided."
The now glorified Walter Smith was a man no less learned than
pious, faithful, and religious. Llis old master, the professor of
divinity at Utrecht in Holland, when he heard of his public, violent
and bloody death of martyrdom, gave him this testimony ; and,
weeping, said in broken English, " O Smith ! the great, brave
Smith ! who exceeded all that I ever taught. He was capable to
teach many, but few to instruct him." Besides some letters, and the
fore-mentioned twenty-two rules for fellowship-meetings, he wrote
also twenty steps of national defection, all of which are now pub-
lished ; and if these, with his last testimony, be rightly considered,
it will appear that his writings were inferior to few of the contend-
ings of that time.
528 . SCOTS WORTHIES.
ROBERT GARNOCK.
Robert Garnock was born in Stirling, and baptized by the faithful
Mr. James Guthrie. In his younger years, his parents took much
pains to train him up in the way of duty ; but soon after the Ee-
storation, the faithful ministers being turned out, curates were put in
their places, and with them came ignorance, profanity, and persecu-
tion. Some time after this, Mr. Law preached at his own house in
Monteith, and one Mr. Hutchison sometimes at Kippen. Having
one Saturday evening gone out to his grandmother's house in the
country, along with an uncle to a place called Shield-brae, and next
Sabbath he accompanied him with great difficulty, being then but
young, through frost and snow, and heard Mr. Law at Monteith
preach a sermon, which, through the divine blessing, had a consider-
able influence upon his mind. — Thus he continued for a considerable
time, to go out in the end of the week to hear the gospel, returning
in the beginning of next week to Stirling ; all this while, how^ever,
lie did not let his parents know anything of the matter.
On one occasion, hearing a proclamation read at the cross, which
announced that all who did not hear, or receive privileges from the
curates, were to be severely punished. His mind was much troubled,
and he hesitated whether or not he should go to a field-preaching that
he heard was to be next Sabbath. But at last, however, he came to
this resolution ; saying that, the Lord inclined his heart to go, sug-
gesting the following words : " Go for once, go for all, if they take
thee for that which is to come. So I went there," continues he, " and
the Lord did me good : for I got at that sermon, that which although
they had rent me in a thousand pieces, I would not have said what I
liad said before. So the Lord made me follow after the gospel for a
long time; and though I knew little then what I meant, yet he put
it in my heart still to keep by the honest side, and not to comply
with or join the enemies of one kind or another ; yea, not to watcli,
ward, or strengthen their hands in any manner of way. When I was
asked wdiy I would not keej) watch (or stand sentry) on the town, as
it was commanded duty, I told them I would not lift arms against
the work of God. If ever I carried arms it should be for the defence
of the gospel."
He now became the subject of pei'secution, and was in consequence
obliged to leave the town. Having learned his father's trade, which
ROBERT GARNOCK. 529
was that of a blacksmitli, he went to Glasgow for some time, and fol-
lowed his occupation. From Glasgow he returned home and from
thence went again to Borrowstounness, where he had great debate, as
he himself expresses it, — " about that woful indulgence : I did not
know the dreadful hazard of hearing them, until I saw they preached
at the hazard of men's lives. This made me examine the matter,
until I found out that they were directly wrong, and contrary to
Scripture, had changed their head, had quitted Jesus Christ as their
head, and had taken their commission from men, owning that per-
jured adulterous wretch as head of the church ; receiving their com-
mission to preach in such and such places from him, and those bloody
thieves under him."
From Borrowstounness he returned back to Falkirk, and thence
home to Stirling, where he remained for some time under a series of
difficulties ; for after he got oif when taken with others at the Shield-
brae, while he was making bold to visit Mr. Skeen, he was taken
into the castle, and kept all night, and used very barbarously by the
soldiers, and at eight o'clock next morning taken before the provost,
who not being then at leisure, he was irnprisoned till the afternoon.
But by the intercession of one Colin M'K^enzie, to whom his father
was smith, he was released without so much as paying the jailor's
fee. — " I had much of the Lord's kindness at that time (says be),
although I did not then know what it meant; and so I was thrust
forth into my wandering again."
About this time he intended to go to Ireland ; but being disap-
pointed, he returned back to Stirling, where he was tossed to and
fro for some time ; and yet he remarks, he had some sweet times in
this condition; particularly one night, when he was down in the
Carse wdth one Baron Hendry. After this, heavy trials ensued to
him from professors, because he testified against every kind of their
compliance with the current of the times. Upon this account, he and
the society-meeting of which he was a member, could not agree.
This made him leave them, and go to one in the country, which he
says, " were more sound in judgment, and of an undaunted courage
and zeal for God and his cause ; for the life of religion was in that
society."
After this, he fell into another difficulty ; for a proclamation being
issued that all betwixt thirteen and sixty were to pay poll-money,
his father was advised that if he would pay it he should be released;
which, though a great temptation, he absolutely refused, telling his
father plainly, who urged him to do it, that if one plack (or four pen-
nies) could procure his freedom, he would not give it. Ilis father
offered to pay the money for him, to which he answered, that, if he
did, he need never expect it back, or any consideration for it, from
him. But for the result of the matter, hear his own words : "And,
O ! but the Lord was kind to me then ; and his love was better than
life. I was tossed in my wanderings and banishment with many up3
and downs, till I came to Edinburgh, where I heard of a communion
to be on the borders of England ; and then I went to it. O let me
bless the Lord, that ever trysted me with such a lot as that was, for
the 20thj 21st, and 22d of April, 1677, were the three most wonder-
34
530 SCOTS WORTHIES.
fill days with the Lord's presence that ever I saw on earth ! O but
his power was wonderfully seen, and great to all the assembl}', espe-
cially to nie ! O the three wonderful days of the Lord's presence at
East-Xisbet in the Merse ! This was the greatest communion, I sup-
pose, these twenty years. I got there what I will never forget while
I live. Glory to his sweet name, that ever there was such a day in
Scotland, lie was seen that day sitting at the head of his table,
and his spikenard sending forth a pleasant smell. Both good and
bad were made to cry out, and some to say, with the disciples, " It is
good for us to be here." They would have been content to have re-
mained there ; and I thought it was a begun heaven to be in that
place."
After this he returned home to Stirling, and got liberty to follow
liis employment for some time. But lo ! another difficulty occurred ;
for while the Highland army was ordered west in the beginning of
1678, upon the town being called to arms, all excepting a very few
obeyed. Garnock, however, refused ; and, leaving the town with the
other recusants, held a meeting. When he returned, his father told
him he was passed for the first time, but it behoved him to mount
guard to-morrow. He refused ; his father was angry, and in order to
induce compliance brought before him the practices of others. He
told his father he would hang his faith upon no man's belt. On the
morrow, when the drums beat to mount guard, being the day of his
social meeting, he went out of town under a heavy load of reproach,
even from professors, who did not scruple to say that it was not from
principles of conscience he hesitated, but that he might have liberty
to stroll through the country. Orders were given to apprehend Gar-
nock ; but at that time he escaped and wandered from one place to
another, until the beginning of August 1678, when he came to Car-
rick communion at Maybole ; and what his exercise was there, him-
self thus expresses : — " I was wonderfully trysted there ; but not so
as at the other. I went to the first table, and then went and heard
worthy Messrs. Kid and Cameron preach at a little distance from the
meeting, who never left the field till they sealed and crowned it with
their blood. I cannot say but the Lord was kind to me there, on the
day after, and on the fast day in the middle of the week after that,
near the borders of Kilmarnock parish, where a division arose about
the Indulgence, which to this day is never yet done away. After my
I'eturn home, I was made to enter into covenant with him upon his
own terms, against the Indulgence and all other compliances ; and
because through the Lord's strength I had resolved to keep my bar-
gain and not join with them, it was said I had got new light ; and I
was much reproached, yet I got much of the Lord's kindness when
attending the preached gospel in the fields, to which I would some-
times go twenty miles."
Having thus wandered to and fro for some time, he went to Edin-
burgh to see the prisoners, and then returned home to Stirling in the
end of the week. Late on Saturday night he heard of a field-preach-
ing ; and seeing the soldiers and troopers marching out of town to
attack the people who attended it, he made himself ready, and, with
a few others, went towards the place, — the soldiers coming forward,
ROBERT GARNOCK. 53I
he along with a few armed men and the minister took to a hill above
Fintrj, beside the Crags of Ballglass. Perceiving the enemy ad-
vance, this brave little band drew up in the best position that time
and place would permit, and sung a psalm, which so alarmed the
soldiers that, as they told afterwards, the very matches had almost
fallen out of their hands. At last a trooper coming up ordered them
to dismiss ; but this they refused. This was repeated several times.
till at last the captain of the foot came forward and gave them the
same charge, which they also refused. Upon this he ordered a party
of his men to advance and fire upon them, which they did once or
twice. This little company returned it with much courage and pre-
cision, until the whole party, with the commanding-officer, consisting
of forty-eight infantry and sixteen horse, fired upon this little hand-
ful, which he thinks amounted to not above eighteen that had arms,
with a few women. After several fires were returned on both sides,
one of the sufi*erers stepped forward and shot one side of the cap-
tain's periwig off, at which the foot fied ; but the horsemen taking
advantage of the rising ground surrounded this small party. They
then fired at a young man, but missed him. However, they took
him and some others prisoners. The rest fled. Garnock was hinder-
most, being the last on the place of action, and says, he intended not
to have been taken but rather killed. At last one of the enemy came
after him, on which he resolved either to kill or be killed rather than
surrender, — snatching a pistol from one for that purpose. But an-
other coming up to his assistance the dragoon fled off, and thus they
escaped and stayed until the enemy were gone, who marched direct-
1}^ with their prisoners to Stirling.
After the fray was over Garnock hovered about till evening, and
spoke with some friends and the minister, who . dissuaded him all
they could from going to Stirling. Being now approaching towards
the eve of his pilgrimage, with Paul in another case when going
up to Jerusalem, he could not be prevailed upon, and so went to
town ; when, entering in about one in the morning, he got into a
house at the foot of Castlehill, and there left his arms with much
difficulty. As he was near the head of Castlehill, he was appre-
hended and brought to the guard by two soldiers who were lying in
wait for those who had been at the meeting, and thence brought be-
fore Lord Linlithgow's son, who asked him, " if he was at that preach-
ing ?" He told him, " he was at no preaching." Linlithgow's son
said, " he was a liar." Garnock said " he was no liar;" and seeing
ye will not believe me I will tell no more — prove the rest. Linlith-
gow said, " he would make him do it ; but he answered, he should
not. then he asked his name, trade, and his father's name, and
where he dwelt ? — all of which he answered. Then he gave orders to
keep him fast. At night he w^as much abused by the soldiers ; some
of those who had been wounded in the skirmish threatening him
with torture, gagging in the mouth, &c., all which he bore with
much patience, "in the morning a serjeant came to examine him ;
but he refused him as a judge to answer to. At last the command-
ing officer came and examined him, if he was at that skirmish ? He
answered, " That for being there he was taken ; and whether I was
532 SCOTS WORTHIES.
there or not, I am not bound to give you an account." So he went
out, and in a little returned with tne provost, who thought to surprise
him by asking, "who of Stirling folk was there?" he answered,
" That they were both your neighbours and mine ;" and though he
had been there, he might account him very imprudent to tell ; for
though he thought it his duty to ask, yet it was not his to tell or
answer, and he thought he should rather commend him for so doing.
After several other things anent that affair, he was commanded to be
kept a close prisoner ; and none, not so much as his father, allowed
to speak to him ; but he did not want company at that time, for,
says lie, " O but I had a sweet time of it 1 the Lord's countenance
was better unto me than all the company in the world."
Upon the 13th of July, he was brought forth, and in company
with about 100 more was taken from Stirling to Edinburgh, under a
strong guard of soldiers, and put into the Grayfriars' church-yard,
amongst the Bothwell prisoners. There he was more vexed, both by
the enemy and his fellow-sufferers, than ever. A specimen of which
is here given in his own words : " Some of my neighbours desired
the bond ; so they put it to me, but I refused. However, the most
part of them took it. Nay, there were some of them supplicated for
any bond. This made some of us conclude it was our duty to testify
against it ; which piece of employment was put upon me, against
which some of the prisoners obtested. So I was rendered odious ;
but many a day the Lord was kind to me in that yard, and kept me
from many a fear and snare ; his love was sweet unto me. The men
complained of us to the commanders, who sent for me and examined
me on the bond and other things : they said I should be gagged, and
every day I was vexed with them, until almost the whole prisoners
petitioned for it. — And there was as good as seventy ministers sent
into the yard to take it; and they said it was not a head to suffer
upon : when they had done, they sent in two gentlewomen with the
commission, and they set upon me. I told them, if every one of
them had as much of it as i had, they would not be so busy to press
it; for before this, the bloodly crew came to the yard, and called on
me and asked if I would take the bond. I said, ISTo. They said I
would get no other sentence. So I was sore put to it : I would often
have been at the doing of something ; but the Lord would not suffer
me. So, in his strength, I fought on and overcame. But O the cross-
was sweet and easy unto me ! There needs none fear to venture on
suffering in his way and strength. O happy days, that ever I was
trysted with such a thing ! My bargaining with lovely Jesus was
sweet unto me. It is true, 'affliction for the present seems not joyous
but grievous ; but afterwards, it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of
righteousness to those who are exercised thereby.' — I never knew
the treachery of ministers, and their dreadful hypocrisy and double-
dealing in the matters of God before that time, and I could never
love them after that ; for they made many a one rack their conscience
in taking that bond. I was brought out of the yard, October 25thy
with a guard of soldiers : when coming out one Mr. White asked if 1
would take the bond ? I smiling said, No. He in the way of jeer
said, I had a face to glorify God in the Grassraarket. So I bade
ROBERT GARNOCK. 533
farewell to all my neighbours, who were sorry ; and White bade me
take good night with them, for I should never see them more. But
I said. My dear friends, take good heart ; for we may meet again for
all this. So I was brought before their council-court. They asked,
if I would take the bond, — I said, No. Some of them said, perhaps
he does not know it ; but Hatton said he knows it well enough. So
one of them read it. I asked if they would have me subscribe a lie
to take away life ; for I never was in rebellion nor intended to be so.
They said they would make another bond for me. I answered, they
needed not trouble themselves, for I was not designed to subscribe
any bond at this time. — Will you rise in rebellion against the king?
I was not rising in rebellion against the king. — Will you take the
bond, never to rise against the king and his authority ? What is the
thing you call authority ? — ^They said. If they, the soldiers, or any
other subject, should kill me, I was bound not to resist. I answered,
That I will never do. — Is the bishop's death murder ? I am a pri-
soner ; and so no judge. — Is Bothwell Bridge rebellion ? I am not
bound to give my judgment in that. ,
" Then one of them said, I told you what the rebel rascal would
say : — you will be hanged. Sir ! I answered, you must first convict
me of a crime. They said, you did excommunicate prisoners for
taking the bond. I said that was not in my power ; and moreover,
I was not before them, and prove it if they were able. They said
they would hang me for rebellion. I said, — You cannot ; for if you
walk according to your own laws, I should have my liberty. They
said — Should we give a rebellious knave like you your liberty ? — you
should be hanged immediately. I answered, — ^That lies not yet in
your power ; so they caused quickly to take me away, and put me in
the Iron-house tolbooth. Much more passed that I must not spend
time to notice.
" So they brought me to the Iron-house to fifteen of my dear com-
panions in tribulation ; and there we were a sweet company, being
all of one judgment. There serving the Lord, day and night, in sin-
gleness of heart, his blessing was seen amongst us ; for his love was
better than life. We were all with one accord trysted sweetly toge-
ther ; and O it was sweet to be in this company, and pleasant to
those who came in to see us, until the indictments came in amongst
us ! There were ten got their indictments ; six came oiF, and four got
their sentence to die at Magus Moor. There were fifteen brought
out of the yard, and some of them got their liberty ofiered, if they
would witness against me ; but they refused : so they all got their in-
dictments ; and all complied, save one, who was sentenced to die
with the other four at Magus Moor.
In this situation he continued till ITovember 13th, that he was by
the intercession of some friends brought to the west galleries on the
other side of the tolbooth, where he continued some time, till called
again before some of the council ; after which he was again com-
mitted to close prison for a time ; till one night, being called forth
by one of the keepers, one Mr. John Blair being present, accosted
him thus, " Wherefore do you refuse the bond ? He answered, I
have no time for that matter. But out of that place, said Blair, you
53:1: SCOTS WORTHIES.
sliall not go ; for the Covenants and the 13th of the Eomans bind
you to it. I answered, ISTo; they just bind me to the contrary.
What if Popery should come to the land, should we bind ourselves
never to defend the true religion ? He said. We were loosed then.
I said, No ; Presbyterians are taken by their word, and they abide
b}^ it ; and ere all were done, it should be a dear bond to them ; as
for my part, I would rather go to the Grassmarket, and seal it with
my blood, &c." After he came down, the keeper of the tolbooth
abused him in a very indiscreet manner, saying, that if there were
no more men, he should be hanged ; and tliat he was an ignorant
fool ; ministers nor men could not convince him ; and ordered him
to be detained in close custody, where he was again as much vexed
with a company of bonders as ever ; for they were not only become
lax in principle but in duty also ; so he roundly told them, *' You
are far from what you were in the Iron-house, before^ you took the
bond ; then you would have been np at duty by two or three in the
morning; now you lie in bed till eight or nine in the day. They
said. It is true enough ; but said no more."
After these got their liberty, he was accompanied by some other
prisoners, some of whom were kept in for debt. And then he says,
he would have been up by four in the morning and made exercise
amongst them three times a day. The Lord was kind to him at that
time, and he resolved never to make any compliance ; and in this
he was made to " eat meat out of the eater, and sweet out of the
strong ;" but some gentlemen, prisoners for religion where he was
before, prevailed with the keeper of the tolbooth to have him back
to them about the beginning of 1680. But here the old temptation
to compliance and tampering with the enemy w^as afresh renewed ;
for the ministers coming in to visit these, when they could do no
more, they brought ministers to the room to preach, and make him
hear them ; which he positively refused. At last, they brought a
minister, one of his acquaintance, him that should have preached
that day he was taken. Hearing that he had made some compli-
ance with the enemy, he would not go to the next room to hear him
make exercise, till he knew the certainty of the matter. After which
he came to another room, where they had some conference. A short
hint of it is here subjoined. " He asked after my welfare, and if I
was going out of prison ? I told him I blessed the Lord for it, I was
well and was not going out yet." After some conversation anent
field-preachings, particularly one by worthy Mr. Cameron at Monk-
land, which he condemned, " he asked. Why I did not hear minis-
ters ? I answered, I desired to hear none but what are faithful ; for
I am a prisoner, and would gladly be in the right way, not to wrong
myself. He said. Wherein are they unfaithful? I said, in changing
their head, quitting the Lord's way, and taking on with Covenant-
breakers, murderers of his people, &c. He said. How could you prove
that? I said. Their practice proves it. He said. These were but
failings, and these would not perjure a man ; and it is not for you to
cast oif ministers ; you know not what you are doing. I do not cast
them oif; they cast oif themselves, by quitting the holding of the
ministry of Christ : — How prove you that ? The 10th of John proves
ROBERT GARNOCK. 535
it ; for they come not in by the door. You may put me wrong ; but
I think, that in Gal. i. 6. — " I marvel that ye are so soon removed
from him that called you." You may read that at your leisure, how
Paul had not his gospel from men, nor by the will of men. He said,
— Lay by these ; but what is the reason you will not hear others ? I
said, I desire to hear none of these gaping for the indulgence, and
not faithful in preaching against it."
After some conference anent Messrs. Cameron and Cargill, in
which he said Mr. Cameron was no minister, and Mr. Cargill was
once one, and had quitted it ; that they received their doctrines from
their hearers, who said, " You must preach such and such doctrines,
and we will hear you ;" to all which the martyr gave pertinent
answers. He said, " Robert, do not think I am angry that you come
not to hear me, for I desire not you, nor any of your faction to come
and hear me, for I cannot preach to all your humours." I said. It
was all the worse for that. He said none of these faults would cast
off a minister ; they were but failings, not principles. I said, I could
not debate ; but I should let any Christian judge, if it was no prin-
ciple for a minister to hold Christ Head of the Church. I told him,
that there was once a day I would have ventured my life at his back
for the defence of Christ's gospel ; but not now. And I was more
willing to lay down my life now for his sweet and dear truths, than
ever I was. He said, the Lord pity and help me ; I said I had much
need of it. And so he went away, and rendered me odious. This
amongst other things made me go to God, and engage in covenant
with his Son never to hear any of those who betrayed his cause, till
I saw evidences of their repentance. And I would have been will-
ing to have quitted all for that " chiefest among ten thousand."
Thus he continued till he says he got bad counsel from some of his
friends to supplicate for his liberty ; and they prevailed so far, as to
draw up a supplication, and brought him to subscribe. But when
they had got him to take the pen in his hand, " The Lord bade me
hold," says he, " and one came and bade me take heed ; so I did it
not ; for which I bless his holy name. But this lets me see there is
no standing in me. Had it not been his free love, I had gone the
blackest way ever one went."
Having now with pleasure heard somewhat of the life and exer-
cises of Garnock, we come to notice his trial, death or martyrdom.
He was brought before the council, October 1st, where he disowned
the king's authority, refused them as his judges, and on the Tth was
brought before the court of Justiciary, and indicted, " That he did
before the council, on the 1st of October, decline the authority of the
king and council, and called the king and council tyrants, murderers,
peijured and mansworn, declaring it was lawful to rise in arms
against them; and gave in a most treasonable paper, termed ' A
Protestation and Testimony against Parliamenters ;' wherein he
terms the members of parliament idolaters, usurpers of the Lord's
inheritance ; and protests against their procedure in their hell-
hatched acts: which paper is signed by his hand, whereby he is
guilty of treason. And further, gave in a declaration to the council,
wherein the said Robert Garnock disowns the king's authority and
536 SCOTS WORTHIES.
government, and protests against the council as tyrants. Therefore,
&c." By such an explicit confession, his own papers being turned
to an indictment, without any matters of fact against liim, there was
no difficulty of probation, his own protest and declinature being pro-
duced before the court of Justiciary and assize, to whom he was re-
mitted. But before the assize were enclosed, Garnock and five others
who were indicted with him, delivered a paper to the inquest con-
taining a protestation and warning, wherein " they advise them to
consider what they are doing, and upon what grounds they pass a
sentence upon them. They declare they are no rebels ; they disown
no authority that is according to the word of God, and the Covenants
the land is bound by. They charge them to consider how deep a
guilt covenant-breaking is ; and put them in mind they are to be
answerable to the great Judge of all, for what they do in this matter ;
and say they do this, since they are in hazard of their lives and
against them. It is a dangerous thing to pass a sentence on men
merely because of their conscience and judgment, and only because
they cannot in conscience yield to the iniquitous laws of men : that
they are free subjects, never taken in any action contrary to the pre-
sent laws ; adding, that those whom they once thought should or
would rule for God, have turned their authority for tyranny and in-
humanity ; and employ it both in destroying the laws of God, and
murdering his people against and without law, as we ourselves can
prove and witness when brought in before them. After two years'
imprisonment, one of them most cruelly and tyrant-like, rose from
the place of judgment, and drew a sword, and would have killed one
of us ; but Providence ordered it otherwise ; however, the wound is
yet to be shown. The like action was never heard or read of. After
reminding them of David Finlay murdered at IN'ewmills, Mr.
Mitchell's case, and James Lermond, who was murdered after he was
three times set at liberty by the assize, they added, that after such
murders as deserve death, they cannot see how they can owm them
as judges, charging them to notice what they do ; assuring them their
blood will be heavy upon them ; concluding with the words of Jer.
xxvi. 15 ; and charging them not to take innocent blood on their
heads."
I
Robert Gaenock.
D. Faerie.
James Stewaet.
Alex. Eussell.
Pat. Foeeman.
C. Lapslay.
Subscribed at Edinburgh, )
October T, 1681. j
Notwithstanding all this, they were brought in guilty, and sen-
tenced to be executed at the Gallow-lee, between Leith and Edin-
burgh, upon the 10th instant, — Foreman's hand to be cut off before,
and the heads and hands of the rest after death, and to be set upon
the Pleasance Port.
What his deportment and exercises were at the place of execution,
we are at a loss to describe ; but, from w^hat is already related of him,
we may safely conclude, that through divine grace, his demeanour
was truly noble and Christian. But that the reader may know some-
ROBERT GARNOCK. 537
what of his exercises, temper, and disposition about that time, I shall
extract a few sentences of his own words from his last speech and
dying Testimony.
" i bless the Lord, that ever he honoured the like of me with a
bloody gibbet and bloody windingsheet for his noble, honourable,
and sweet cause. O will ye love him, Sirs ? O he is well worth the
loving, and quitting all for ! O for many lives to seal the sweet
cause with : if I had as many lives as there are hairs on my head, I
would think them all little to be martyrs for truth. I bless the Lord,
I do not suffer unwillingly nor by constraint, but heartily and
cheerfully. I have been a long time prisoner, and have been altered
of my prison. I was amongst and in the company of the most part
who suffered since Bothwell, and was in company with many insnar-
ing persons ; though I do not question their being godly folk ; and
yet the Lord kept me from hearkening to their counsel. Grlory, glory
to his holy and sweet name ! It is many times my wonder how ]
have done such and such things ; but it is He that has done : He
hath done all things in me ; holy is his name. I bless the Lord I am
this day to step out of time into eternity, and I am no more troubled,
than if I were to take a match by marriage on earth, and not so
much. I bless the Lord I have much peace of conscience in what I
have done. O but I think it a very weighty piece of business to be
within twelve hours of eternity and not troubled. Indeed the Lord is
kind, and has trained me up for this day, and now I can want him no
longer. I shall be filled with his love this night ; for I will be with
him in Paradise, and get a new song put in my mouth, the song of
Moses and the Lamb : I will be in amongst the general assembly of
the first-born, and enjoy the sweet presence of God and his Son Jesus
Christ, and the spirits of just men made perfect ; I am sure of it.
" Now my Lord is bringing me to conformity with himself, and
honouring me with my worthy pastor Mr. James Guthrie : although
I knew nothing when he was alive, yet the Lord hath honoured me
to protest against popery, and to seal it with my blood ; and he hath
also honoured me to protest against prelacy, and to seal it with my
blood. The Lord has kept me in prison to this day for that end.
Mr. Guthrie's head is on one port of Edinburgh, and mine must go
on another. Glory, glory to the Lord's sweet name, for what he hath
done for me !
" Now I bless the Lord, that I am not, as many suspect me to be,
thinking to gain heaven by my suffering. No, there is no attaining
of it but through the precious blood of the Son of God. Now, ye that
are the true seekers of God, and the butt of the world's malice, 0 be
diligent and run fast, your time is precious ; O make use of it, and
act for God ; contend for truth, stand for God against all his enemies ;
fear not the wrath of man, love one another, wrestle with God, mu-
tually, in societies, confess your faults one to another, pray one with
another, reprove, exhort, and rebuke one another in love ; slight no
commanded duty, be faithful in your stations, as you will be answer-
able at the great day of judgment, seek not counsel from men, and
follow none further than they hold by truth.
" Now, farewell, sweet reproaches for my lovely Lord Jesus : though
538 SCOTS WORTHIES.
once they were not oyous but grievous, yet now they are sweet.
And I bless the Lord for it, I heartily forgive all men for anything
they have said of me : and I pray it may not be laid to their charge
in the day of accounts : and for what they have done to God and his
cause, I leave that to God, and their own conscience. Farewell all
Christian acquaintance, father and mother, &c. Farewell sweet ;
prison for my royal Lord Jesus Christ, now at an end. Farewell all
crosses of one sort or another ; and so farewell every thing in time,
reading praying, and believing. Welcome eternal life, and the spirits
of just men made perfect ! welcome Father, Son, and Holy Ghost;
into thy hands I commit my spirit !"
Accordingly the foregoing sentence, in all its parts, was executed
upon them all, except Lapslay, who got off.^ And so they had their
passage from the valley of misery into the celestial country above, to
inhabit the land — " where the inhabitants say not, I am sick, and the
people that dwell therein are forgiven their iniquities."
Thus ended Garnock in the flower of his youth ; a young man, but
old in experimental religion. His faithfulness was as remarkable as
his piety, and his courage and constancy as both. He was inured to
tribulations almost from his youth, wherein he was so far from being
discouraged at the cross of Christ, that he, in imitation of the primi-
tive martyrs, seemed rather ambitious of suffering. He always aimed
at honesty ; and, notwithstanding all opposition from pretended
friends and professed foes, he was by the Lord's strength enabled to
remain unshaken to the last ; for, though he was nigh tripped, yet
with the faithful man he was seldom foiled, never vanquished. May
the Lord enable many in this apostate, insidious, and lukewarm gene-
ration, to emulate the martyr, in imitation of him who now inherits
the promise, — " Be thou faithful unto the death, and I will give thee
a crown of life !^"
* The faithful and pious Mr. Renwick was present and was much aiSected at the above
execution; after which he assembled some friends, lifted their bodies in the night, and
buried them in the West Kirk. They also got their heads taken down ; but, day approach-
ing, they could not reach the same place, but were obliged to turn aside to Laurieston's
yards, in which one' Alexander Tweedie, then in company wiih them was gardener, where
they interred them in a box. The gardener, it is said, planted a white rose bush above
them, and a red one a little below them, which grew more luxuriantly than any in the
garden. This place being uncultivated for a considerable time, they lay till October 7th,
1728, when another gardener, trenching the ground, tbund them. They were lifted, and
by direction were laid on a table in the summerhouse of the proprietor; and a fair linen
cloth being laid over them, all had access to come and see them. On the 19th they were
put into a coffin covered with black, and by some friends carried to Grayfriars' church-yard,
and interred near the Martyrs' tomb; it being nearly forty-five years since their separa-
tion from their bodies. They were reburied on the same day, Wednesday, and ;ibout four
o'clock afternoon, the same time that at first they went to their resting-place ; and attended,
says one present, '' with the greatest multitude of people, old and young, men and womer,
ministers and others, that ever I saw together ;" and there they lie, awaiting a glorious re-
surrection on the morning of the last day, when they shall be raised up with more honours
than at their death ihey were treated with reproach and ignominy.
ROBERT MAC WARD. 539
ROBERT MACWARD.
EoBEET MacWaed was a native of Glenluce in the south of Gal-
loway. The time of his birth, and the condition of his parents, have
unfortunately not been recorded with any degree of certainty. His
circumstances, however, were such as enabled him to prosecute, with-
out interruption, those preparatory studies, which his chosen profes-
sion as a minister of the everlasting gospel required him to pursue.
Samuel Rutherford w^as professor of theology at St. Andrew's, when
MacAVard was enrolled there as a student of divinity in 1643 ; and
by that eminent scholar and divine he was greatly beloved. lie ac-
companied Rutherford in the capacity of private secretary, when the
latter proceeded to London, as one of the Scottish Commissioners to
the Westminster Assembly.
At this period it was no unusual thing for talented young men, be-
fore entering upon the stated exercise of their holy vocation, to be
employed as regents in our universities. In the year 1650, Mac Ward
was appointed regent or professor of Humanity in the ancient semi-
nary of learning, of which his distinguished friend and patron,
Rutherford, was Principal. This chair he occupied for a short period ;
for, in 1656 he succeeded the celebrated Mr. Andrew Gray as minis-
ter of the Outer High Church in Glasgow. It says much for the piety
and talents of MacWard that he was, when yet so young, considered
worthy to occupy that important charge. In this extensive spliere of
usefulness he laboured with apostolic zeal for the space of five years ;
and by a conscientious discharge of his official engagements, gained
an imperishable name for pastoral fidelity. Wliile thus employed,
he incurred the marked displeasure and hatred of the prelatic party,
whose influence at court was now daily on the ascendant. A mind
like that of MacWard, deeply imbued with Christianity, and strong-
ly attached to Presbyterianism in all its simplicity, could ill brook the
imperious dictates which were incessantly issuing, with the insidious
design of depriving Scotland of its ecclesiastical polity. He timely
and loudly raised his voice against those inroads which were making,
under the sanction of the king, and which threatened, not merely the
annihilation of presbytery, but the extinction of the religion of the
land. For a sermon, preached in the Tron Church of Glasgow, Feb-
ruary 1661, in which he bore public testimony to the " glaring de-
fections of the times," he was arrested, carried to Edinburgh, thrown
jnto prison, and indicted by his majesty's advocate " for sedition and
treasonable preaching." The historian Wodrow has preserved the
speech delivered by MacWard, when he answered the citation of
540 SCOTS WORTHIES.
parliament on the 6th of the following June. Before this tribunal he
triumphantly defended his conduct. But he spoke to prejudiced
judges, who, it is to be feared, regarded more the wish of their sove-
reign, than the uns]>feakable satisfaction and honour of passing an
impartial verdict. By those invested with powder, he w^as looked
u})on as a very dangerous person. This was quite sufficient to sway
the justiciary lords, who passed what they doubtless thought a lenient
sentence ; decreeing, that he should leave the kingdom within half a
year ; be permitted to sojourn one month in Glasgow, and be entitled
to the following year's stipend. Getting his matters settled as best
lie could, MacWard and his fiimily embarked for Holland, and ar-
rived at Rotterdam, w^here he met w^ith a hearty reception. In his
correspondence, much of which has happily been preserved, Mac-
AYard speaks in w^arm and grateful strains of the sympathy and
attention shown him abroad. To lady Kenmure, relict of John
Viscount Kenmure, with whom he seems to have kept frequent in-
tercourse by letter, he says, " If your ladyship be desirous to have
any account concerning my condition, know that I have met w^ith
nmch undeserved kindness. I am ashamed to call my lot a suffering
lot, for He hath rather hid me from the storm than exposed me to
trouble. I have occasion now and then to preach at Rotterdam,
where we have one old Scots minister who is dissatisfied with the
times."*
The minister here alluded to is Mr. Alexander Petrie, the ecclesi-
astical historian, who had been translated by the General Assembly
in 1643, from the parish of Rhynd, to be the first pastor of the Scot-
tish Church in Rotterdam. Besides having the use of Mr. Petrie's
pulpit, MacWard's time was occupied in collecting and arranging the
papers of his honoured preceptor Rutherford, — the first edition of
whose " Religious Letters " was printed abroad under MacAVard's
editorship. After this our Worthy took up his abode at Utrecht.
At that seat of learning, resorted to by students from distant king-
doms, more especially from Scotland, he made himself most useful to
his young countrymen. With several of the professors, particularly
Yoetius and Nethenus, eminent theologians, he was on an intimate
footing. In the English church of Utrecht he frequently preached ;
and its sessional records pleasingly show the consistent spirit of this
Covenanter, in his noncompliance with some ecclesiastical forms,
which he conceived Scripture did not enjoin, and which Presbytery,
in its purest days, did not tolerate. MacWard, ever anxious to do
good, complied with a request of the session to preach every Wednes-
day morning. This practice he continued till some of the elders
comj^lained that he did not, like Mr. Best the regular pastor, intro-
duce the Lord's prayer in public worship, as also the liturgical forms
translated into English, peculiar to the Dutch reformed church. The
session, then composed of natives of England, Scotland, and Holland,
were divided in opinion on the subject, and often had they " a large
and earnest discourse about the use of the liturgy." in 1667, by
plurality of voices, the elders, their pastor being absent, had " con-
cluded and resolved, that henceforth no minister shall be admitted
* WoDRow MSS. Adv. Lib. Edinb. Vol. Iviii. No. 53.
ROBERT MACWARD. 541
to preach jn this congregation, that refuseth to say the Lord's prajer,
and to use the forms of liturgy in the administration of baptism, the
Lord's supper, confirmation of elders and deacons, and solemnization
of marriage, according to the orders of the church." All this was
clearly levelled at MacWard. As his name does not appear in the
records of the Consistory, it is presumed that the captious elders car-
ried their point, and that the English congregation in Utrecht was
no longer edified by the searching discourses of this worthy man.
In the year 1668, he brought under the notice of Nethenus, pro-
fessor of theology at Utrecht, the MS. of Kutherford against the
Arminians. Nethenus undertook to superintend the printing, and, in
the preface, he handsomely acknowledges his obligations to Messrs.
MacWard and Livingstone, for the valuable assistance which they
afforded him in his capacity of editor of this masterly refutation,
which, it may be observed, for circulation among the learned, was
written in the Latin language. MacWard was in London in 1668,
but he returned to Holland without visiting Scotland. In 1669, he
came to Scotland, and was united in marriage to the widow of pro-
vost Graham of Glasgow. On the demise of his friend Mr. John
Livingstone in 1672, he once more visited his native country ; and he
finally left it for Holland in 1674, followed a short while afterwards
by his wife, and her son. MacWard, on settling at Rotterdam, en-
joyed the society of a greater number of banished Scottish ministers
than was to be found at any other town in Holland. This may be
accounted for from the circumstance of there being a vast concourse
of presbyterians who had resorted thither, with the view of engaging
in commercial pursuits, then most lucrative, which enabled them to
enjoy the high satisfaction of relieving those of their countrymen
who had left home for conscience' sake. Into the midst of this in-
teresting society MacWard was now introduced ; and daily converse
with kindred spirits was refreshing to him in the extreme. In the
year 1676, he was admitted one of the ministers of the Scottish Church
in Rotterdam, as colleague to Mr. John Hogg. The particulars re-
specting this appointment we have already recorded in the Life of
John Brown. That he should have been named to supply the newly
created place of second minister, when men of such talent were
numerous in Rotterdam, speaks volumes in his praise ; and the selec-
tion was most honourable to the Scottish Consistory.
MacWard efiected many important improvements. At his sugges-
tion, a sessional meeting was held every Monday morning for reli
gious purposes, and prayer for the success of the gospel at home and
abroad. With him, also, originated the proposal to levy a small gra-
tuity for the poor of the congregation, from every Scottish vessel
arriving at Rotterdam. He successfully arranged matters, and got
the owners and masters of ships readily to enter into his benevolent
views. For this acceptable offering, which has been uninterruptedly
and cheerfully continued to the present day, free church accommoda-
tion is granted to captains, mates, and sailors, who have distinct pews.
The services of MacWard were highly valued by the whole con-
gregation, and by those trading to the port. He was, indeed, no
ordinary man. His pious and becoming deportment, his anxiety to
542 SCOTS WORTHIES.
promote personal and family religion, endeared him to his flock ; and
from ship to ship, as well as from house to honse, he statedly went,
speaking of the things that pertained to the everlasting peace of his
hearers. As might be expected, his addresses from the pnlpit, ener-
getic and truly affectionate, could not be heard with cold indifference,
by a people for whose welfare he showed such concern. From the
particulars given in the life of Col. Wallace and in that of Mr.
brown, our readers have already seen how Mac Ward was compelled
to leave his people, through the influence of the English government,
and also how honourably the Dutch authorities acted in this matter,
even whilst they mildly enjoined our countrymen to withdraw from
Holland for a season. The -Scottish church in Rotterdam had the
greatest cause to lament this constrained decision of the States, as
they were thus to lose the justly appreciated services of three excel-
lent men. The mournful intelligence was communicated at a meet-
ing of the Consistory, held on the 1st of February, 1G77, as thus ap-
pears from the records : — " It was there signified to them by Mr.
Robert Mac Ward, minister, that there was come an order from the
States-General, that he, Mr. John Brown, and Mr. Wallace, behoved
to remove from this place, and out of the Seven Provinces belonging
to the said States, with all possible diligence ; which ordinance so
resolved, was imposed upon them, doubtless from the court of Eng-
land. At which the session being very much grieved, thereby to be
deprived of theii" faithful, painful, and pious preacher, and of such
another also, who every Lord's day was an helper in the work of the
Lord, and likewise of the most painful and useful elder they had
amongst them ; which sad and dreadful stroake they could not look
upon, but as a signal and eminent token of the Lord's high displea-
sure against this congregation, for the manifold sins and grievous
provocations thereof ; but especially for their unfruitfulness and bar-
renness under the many waterings and powerful means of grace not
only of them, but of many other faithful, able, and painful ministers
of the gospel, formerly removed by death, whose labours in the gos-
pel had been very successful elsewhere ; so that by the very heavy
stroake, added to all the former, they could not but foresee, in all
probability, that the Lord hereby intended to forsake this place, and
to extinguish utterly the light of the gospel therein ; which, takinr"
to their consideration, they judged it their duty to be deeply humble
before the Lord, in deprecating the fierceness of his wrath, and ear-
nestly to plead with him for mercy and pardon, and not utterly leav("
and forsake some small remnant in this place, and to continue witl
the congregation, the other faithful and painful minister, till th'
Lord in his mercy and good providence should reduce and brin
back these others, now unjustly banished from them. The whic
Mr. Mac Ward, they do still own and avouch to be their minister,-
and the said Mr. Wallace their elder, notwithstanding of any Act o
Ordinance now past out against them, as aforesaid, procured by th
means of wicked and malicious instruments and enemies to tlie trutl
and power of godliness in the court of England, so as they are boundj
before God, and hold as a duty incumbent upon them, to receive andg
embrace them with all cordial affection, and brotherly affection in*
ROBERT MACWARD. 543
the work of the Lord, whensoever he, in his providence, shall be
pleased to take oiF this restraint, and bring them back to this place
again." Mr. MacWard promised to use his best efforts that the
Scottish congregation shonld continue to enjoy its full complement of
ministers, and that his place should be filled as speedily as possible,
with an able and a zealous labourer in the vineyard. At this meet-
ing, the last at which he presided, MacWard had the satisfaction of
congratulating the Session on the establishment — principally effected
by his own exertions — of an English school under their auspices, and
of formally introducing the newly elected teacher. This school
exists to the present day, under the immediate patronage of the Scot-
tish Consistory, who have had many gratifying proofs of its utility ;
and it has afforded gratuitous instruction to several who have re-
markably prospered in life, and have attributed their success, under
a gracious Providence, to the benefits which they derived from an
attendance at this little seminary. Before leaving MacWard par-
took of the Lord's Supper with his people, and addressed them on
this unusually solemn occasion. On the morning of Sabbath, Feb-
ruary 25th, 1677, he preached a farewell discourse, " being to remove
the 27th instant, as he did, to the great grief of all truly godly in
the place." The letters written by MacWard, at Utrecht, in refe-
rence to the supply of the vacancy at Rotterdam, breathe an excel-
lent spirit, and evince an uncommon degree of real piety. The Ses-
sion had empowered him to fix upon any minister belonging to the
Church of Scotland, whom he might regard qualified to succeed him ;
and agreed, besides, to abide by his decision. Mr. John Carstares
(father of Principal Carstares), and Mr. James Kirkton, the eccle-
siastical historian, were pressingly invited in succession ; but they
having declined, Mr. Eobert Fleming, who had. been minister of
Cambuslang, accepted the letter of nomination. Mr. MacWard in-
stantly made the Session acquainted with the happy result of the
application. Mr. Fleming, a person of tried worth, and of great
Christian experience, was admitted as the colleague of Mr. John
Hogg, on the 30th December, 1677. The Scottish church in Rotter-
dam flourished under Fleming and his son ; and, in passing, we may
be allowed to observe, that as the oldest branch of the Church of
Scotland, on the Continent of Europe, it still flourishes, both in point
of numbers and respectability.
MacWard returned to Rotterdam in 1678. Colonel Wallace died
in his arms ; and he was likewise called upon to witness the depart-
ure " to a better country," of many of his expatriated brethren.
Yet he bore these trials with the composure and resignation of a
Christian. He repined not at the doings of his heavenly Father, but
I patiently awaited the solemn hour when he too should be ushered
i into their blissful society. J^or did Providence design that he should
tarry long behind them. Li his last illness, he requested to be
carried out, that he might see a comet which then appeared. On
j beholding this " sign in the heavens," which in those days was
I generally regarded as a sure presage of the " distress of nations,"
MacWard, it is said, blessed the Lord, that he was about to close his
eyes, and was not to witness what was threatening to befall his native
54^ SCOTS WORTHIES.
country. It has been well remarked, that few were then aware, that j
the revolutions of a comet are as regular as those of the moon, though
its orbit may be so large as to admit of its appearance only once in
hundreds of years.
Mac Ward died at Rotterdam in the month of December, 1681.
A half-length original portrait of him (from which the print in our
work is accurately taken), has been preserved in the session-house of
the Scottish Church in Kotterdam. His eyes were hazel coloured ;
his complexion was ruddy ; and his long auburn hair fell in natural
ringlets on his shoulder. MacWard left a widow, who resided alter-
nately at Utrecht and Rotterdam. He had a son, of whose subse-
quent history, however, we are unable to furnish any notice. Among
the Wodrow MSS. in the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh, no fewer
than seventy original letters addressed by MacWard to various emi-
nent persons have been preserved. Into these precious documents
we have occasionally dipped ; and, whilst we have been much grati-
fied by the perusal, we have regretted that some of the epistles,
breathing such a heavenly spirit, should not, long ere now, have been
brought before the Christian public. Several of Mac Ward's works
were given to the world during his lifetime, and some were printed
long after his decease. Condensation is no distinguishing feature in
his style. With a heart full of his subject, and earnestly desirous to
impress every reader with the vast importance of salvation, he seems
fearful lest, in his direct appeals to the conscience, he may have
omitted any consideration which might happily induce even a soli-
tary individual immediately to choose God as his portion. This is
one of the causes, we apprehend, which gives to the writings of
MacWard, and many of our old divines, much of that verbosity,
which the present generation so loudly deprecates. But whilst we
declaim against a vitiated taste, and with some reason denounce the
unnecessary subdivisions, and involved sentences of a former age,
there is, it is to be feared, ground for suspecting that we run into an
opposite extreme. The searching simplicity of gospel statement is
too frequently sacrificed at the shrine of taste. Those touching re-
monstrances with the sinner ; that apt scriptural quotation and allu-
sion, which carried conviction to the understanding, and powerfully
aflfected the heart, are not now so often met with ; and it may be, are
sometimes purposely kept back in order to secure the short-lived ap-
probation of the world. MacWard sought not the applause of men.
Like every conscientious minister, he hesitated not to publish, whether
from the pulpit or the press, the whole counsel of God. He knew
that this might bring upon him the sneer of the profane, but derision
and persecution he was willing to endure, and did endure without ii
munnur in the cause of his Divine Master.
When Koelman was engaged rendering into the language of
Holland the works of John Brown, Hugh Binning, and other Scottish
authors, MacWard usually furnished him with a preliminary essay,
or a biographical notice. Mac Ward's " Alarm to Preachers in Times
of Defection," a small work which was never published in English,
but was translated into Dutch by his friend Koelman, was an awaken-
ing address. His '' Poor Man's Cup of Cold Water, ministered to the
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON. 545
Saints and Sufferers for Christ in Scotland,'' was received with
avidity, and was esteemed as a timely and consoling draught bj the
Presbyterians, " who were amidst the scorching flames of the fl^ery
tryal." To these may be added, "Banders Disbanded," and the
" True ItsTonconformist," an acute controversial work, written in reply
to bishop Burnet. lie has been, by some, erroneously represented
as the author of " Naphtali ;" which was written by Mr. James
Stirling, minister of Paisley, assisted by Sir James Stewart of Good-
trees.
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON.
John Paton was born at Meadowhead in the parish of Fen wick and
shire of Ayr. He practised the art of husbandry till near the state
of manhood. Accounts differ as to the way and manner in which he
at first entered upon his military career. Some say he enlisted as a
volunteer and went abroad to Germany, where for some heroic
achievement at the taking of a certain city, he was advanced — pro-
bably by Gustavus Adolphus king of Sweden — to a captain's post,
and that when he returned home, his appearance had undergone
such a change, that his parents scarcely knew him. Other accounts
bear that he was with the Scots army or militia, who went to Eng-
land in January 1643-4, and was at the battle of Marston Moor, at
which place it is said, that in consequence of swallowing some bad
drink, an asthmatical disorder was contracted, which continued ever
after ; but whether this is the case or not, it is certain that he must
have returned very soon to Scotland ; for we are told that, in 1645,
I when the several ministers in the western shires were called out to
take the lead of their own parish militia, to oppose Montrose's insur-
rection, he was called out by Mr. "William Guthrie, and appointed a
captain; on which occasion he behaved with much gallantry.
Among the Covenanters, particularly upon their defeat at Kilsyth,
an event took place, of which we may give the following account.
Montrose, having on the 2d of July obtained a victory over the
Covenanters, crossed the Forth, and, upon the 14th, encamping at
Kilsyth, near Stirling, encountered the Covenanters' army on the fol-
llowing day, which was there under the command of lieutenant-general
iBaillie. At the first onset, some of Montrose's Highlanders, going
too far up the hill, were surrounded by the Covenanters and nearly
u5
546 SCOTS WORTHIES.
defeated ; but Lord Airly, then an old man, being sent from Mon-
trose with fresh supplies, the Covenanters were obliged to give way,
and were by the enemy driven back into a standing marsh or bog,
where they could neither fight nor flee. ^ In this exigency, one of the
captain's acquaintance, when sinking, cried out to him for God's sake
to help ; but when he turned round he was nowhere to be seen; for he
had sunk in the marsh, where he could never be found afterwards.
Upon this disaster, the swiftest of the Covenanters' horse got to
Stirling ; but the foot were mostly killed on the spot, and in the pur-
suit which, according to some historians, continued for the space of
fourteen miles, the greater part of the Covenanters' army was either
drowned or cut off.
In this extremity, the captain, as soon as he could get free of the
bog, with sword in hand made the best of his way through the
enem}^, till he had got safe to the two colonels, Hacket and Strachan,
who all three rode off together ; but they had not gone far till they were
encountered by about fifteen of the enemy, all of whom they killed
except two who escaped. When they had gone a little farther, they
were again attacked by about thirteen more, and of these they killed
ten, so that only three of them could make their escape. But, upon
the approach of eleven Highlanders more, one of the colonels said in
a familiar dialect, " Johnie, if thou dost not somewhat now, we are
all dead men." To whom the captain answered, " Fear not ; for we
will do what w^e can before we either yield or flee before them."
They killed nine of them, and put the rest to flight.
About this time the Lord began to look upon the afiliction of his
people. For .Montrose having defeated the Covenanters five or six
different times, the Committee of Estates began to bethink them-
selves, and for that end saw cause to recall general Leslie, with 4000
foot and 1000 dragoons, from England. To oppose him, Montrose
marched southward, but was shamefully routed by Leslie at Philip-
haugh, upon the 13th of September. Many of his forces were killed
and taken prisoners, and he himself escaped with much difficulty ;*
after which Mr. William Guthrie and captain Paton returned to
Fenwick.
Thus matters continued till the year 1646, when there arose two
factions in Scotland, headed by the duke of Hamilton and the
marquis of Argyle. The one party aimed at bringing down the king
to Scotland, which was opposed by the other. They, however, con-
tinued to levy troops, in consequence of which the duke marched to
England with a powerful army. In the mean time, major-general
Middleton came upon a handful of the Covenanters who had assembled
to celebrate the Lord's Supper at Mauchline, when, notwithstanding
a solemn promise to the contrary, he made an attack upon the wor-
♦ Although Montrose got off at this time, yet when he made another insurrection in 1650 ,
he was fought and routed by a few troops under the command of the forementioned colonelsj
Strachan, Hacket, and Kerr, and himself taken aftei-wards in the laird of Assen's bounds
and brought to Edinburgh, where he was by the parliament condemned to be hanged, May
31, on a gallows thirty feet high, within the spa.ce of three hours; his head to be cut off,
and placed on the tolbooth, and his legs and arms to be hung up in other public towns in
the kingdom ; which was executed accordingly. See tho History of the Civil Wars, p. 30.
Montrose's ^^lemoirs, p. 517, &c.
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON. 54.7
shippers on the Monday following. Although Paton's men acted
only on the defensive, it is said that the captain slew eighteen of the
enemy with his own hand.
But the duke and his army being defeated, and Argyle afterwards
beheaded, the English following up the victory, Cromwell entered
Scotland with his men, in consequence of which the engagers were
not only made to yield, but were quite dispersed. After this some
of the stragglers came west for the purpose of plunder, and, taking
up their residence for some time, in the moors of Loudon, Eaglesham,
and Fenwick, the captain was again made to bestir himself Taking
a party of Fenwick men, he went in pursuit, and found some of
them at a house in that parish called Lochgoin, where he so affright-
ed them, though no blood was shed, that giving their promise never
to molest or or trouble that house, or any other place in the bounds
again, under pain of death, they went off without further molesta-
tion.
Charles I. being beheaded, January 30, 1649, and Charles II.
called home from Breda, 1650, upon notice of an invasion from the
English, the Scotch Parliament appointed a levy of 10,000 foot and
3000 horse, to be instantly raised for the defence of the king and
kingdom, with whom it was necessary that the captain should again
take the field ; for his military skill had now rendered him univer-
sally popular.
Cromwell having entered Scotland in July, 1650, had several skir-
mishes with the Scotch army, till the latter were, upon the 3d of Sep-
tember, totally routed at Dunbar. After this the Act of classes be-
ing repealed, both church and state began to act in different capaci-
ties, and to look as suspiciously on one another as on the common
enemy. There were in the army, on the protestors' side, colonels
Kerr, Hacket, and Strachan, and of inferior officers, major Stuart,
captain Arnot, brother to the laird of Lochridge, captain Paton, and
others. The contest came to such a crisis, that the colonels Kerr and
Strachan threw up their commission and came to the west with some
other officers ; many of whom were esteemed the most religious and
best affected in the army. They proceeded to give battle to the Eng-
lish at Hamilton, but were defeated.
The Scotch army, being no longer able to hold out against the
English, shifted about, and went to England ; when about the end of
August, 1651, "Worcester surrendered to them. The English army,
however, followed hard and totally routed them upon the 3d of Sep-
tember, which forced the king to retreat from the kingdom. After
this the captain returning home, took the farm of Meadow-head, where
he was born, and married one Janet Lindsay, who did not long sur-
vive the union. And here the excellences of his Christian life in a
private station were as distinguished as those which he exhibited
while a soldier in the camp ; for, sitting under the ministry of that
faithful man, Mr. William Guthrie, he became a member of his ses-
sion,— a station which he held till that bright and shining light was
extinguished by Charles II., who was now on the throne ; wreathing
the yoke of supremacy and tyranny about the neck of both church
and state, till matters came to such a pass that in the year 1660, upon
548 SCOTS WORTHIES.
some insolence committed in the south and west by Sir James Tur-
ner, a number of people rose under the command of Barscob, and
other gentlemen from Galloway, in self-defence. Several parties
from the shire of Ayr joined them, commanded by colonel James
Wallace from Achans ; captain Arnot with a party from Mauchline ;
Lockhart of Wicketshaw, with a party from Carluke ; major Ler-
mount, with a party from above Galston ; Neilson of Corsack, with a
party from Galloway ; and captain Paton, who now took the field
again, with a party of horse from Loudon, Fen wick, and other places.
Being assembled, they went eastward, renewing the covenants at
Lanark ; from thence they went to Bathgate, then to CoUington, and
so on till they came to Rullion, near Pentland hills, where, upon
that fatal day, November 28th, they were attacked by general Dalziel
and the king's forces. At their first onset, captain Arnot aud a party
of horse fought a party of DalziePs men with good success ; and after
him another party made the general's men fly ; but, upon their last
encounter, about sunset, Dalziel, who had suffered so many repulses,
advanced the whole left wing of his army upon colonel "Wallace's
right, where, having scarcely three weak horses to receive them,
they were obliged to give way. Here captain Paton, who was all
along with captain Arnot in the first encounter, behaved with great
courage and gallantry. Dalziel, knowing him in the former wars,
advanced upon him himself, thinking to take him prisoner. Upon
his approach, each presented his pistol, when, upon their first dis-
charge, captain Paton perceiving the ball glance down upon Dalziel's
boots, and knowing what was the cause, put his hand into his pocket
for a small piece of silver he had there for the purpose, and put it
into his Qtner pistol. But Dalziel, having his eye on him in the
mean time retreated behind his own man, who by that means was
slain. The colonel's men being flanked in on all hands by Dalziel's
men, were broken and overpowered in all their ranks ; so that the
captain and other two horsemen from Fenwick were surrounded, five,
men deep, by the general, through whom he and the two men at hia
l^ack had to make their way, when there was almost no other on the;]
field of battle, having in this encounter stood nearly an hour.
So soon as Dalziel perceived him go off, he commanded three of |
his men to follow hard after him, giving them marks whereby they I
should know him. They no sooner came up with the captain, befoi
whom was a great slough out of which three Galloway men had just
drawn their horses. They cried aloud " what would they do now ?'^|
Paton answered, " what was the fray ?" He saw only three menj
coming upon them ; and then causing his horse to jump the ditch J
he faced about, and with his drawn sword in his hand, stood still, till]
the fibrst coming up, endeavoured to make his horse jump over also^
Upon which, he with his sword* clave his head in two, and his horse j
• This sword is now in the possession of the " Howies of Lochgoin," besides several!
other reliques, used by our Covenanting forefathers in defence of the Presbyterian religion,!
when, like David of old, they were compelled to put on shield and buckler. In possession^
of the same family is a. flag that was carried by the Fenwick Covenanters at the battle of
Drumclog, and a drum which did duty on that ever memorable battle-field. The sword;
was then counted to have twenty-eight gaps in its edge, which made it be afterwards ob-;j
served, that there were just as many years of the persecution as there were steps or broken ■
pieces in its edge.
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON. 549
being marred, fell into the bog, with the other two men and horse.
He told them to take his compliments to their master, and tell him
he was not coming this night; and so came off, and got safe home at
last.
After this, the Covenanters were reduced to many hardships, par-
ticularly such as had been any way accessary to the rising at Pent-
land, so that they were obliged to resort to the mountain fastnesses,
and other desolate and solitary places. The winter following, Paton
and about twenty others had a very remarkable deliverance from the
enemy. — Being assembled at Lochgoin, upon a certain night, for fel-
lowship and godly conversation, they were miraculously anticipated
or prevented by a repeated dream of the enemy's approach, by the
old man of the house, who had gone to bed for some rest on account
of his infirmity, and that just within as much time as enabled them
to make their escape, the enemy being not a mile from the house.
After they got off the old man rose up quickly, and met them with
an apology for the circumstance the house was then in, (it being but
a little after daybreak,) and nothing at that time was discovered.
About this time, Paton sometimes remained at home, and some-
times in such remote places as could best conceal him from the
search of his persecutors. He married a second wife, one Janet
Millar from Eaglesham (whose father fell at Bothwell-bridge,) by
whom he had six children, who continued still to possess the farms
of Meadowhead and Artnock in tack, until the day of his death.
He was also one who frequented the pure preached gospel wher-
ever he could obtain it, and was a great encourager of the practice of
carrying arms for the defence thereof, which he took to be a proper
mean in part to restrain the enemy from violence. But things grow-
ing still worse and worse, new troops of horse and companies of foot
being poured in upon the western shires, on purpose to suppress and
search out these field-meetings, which occasioned their rising again
in 16Y9 ; while, by these unparalleled severities, they were, with
those of whom the apostle speaks, "destitute, afflicted, and tor-
mented, of whom the world was not worthy ; and they wandered in
deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth." Heb.
xi., 37, 38.
The suffering remnant, under the command of Mr. Kobert Hamil-
ton, having got the victory over Claverhouse on the 1st of June, 1676,
at Drumlog in Evandale, in which skirmish there were about thirty-
six or forty of that bloody crew killed, went on the next day for
Glasgow in pursuit of the enemy : but returning back without suc-
cess, on the 3d of June they formed themselves into a camp, and held
a council of war. On the Ith they met upon Kyperidge ; and on the
6th they went to commissary Fleming's park, in the parish of Kil-
bride ; by which time Paton, who all this time had not been idle,
came to them with a body of horsemen from Fenw^ick and Galston ;
and many others joined them, so that they were greatly increased. ^
, They had hitherto been of one heart and one mind ; but a certain
party of horse from Carrick came to them, with whom were Mr.
Welch, and some other ministers who favoured the indulgence ; after
550 SCOTS WORTHIES,
which they never succeeded, but were finally defeated at Both well-
bridge, upon the 22d of June following.
The protesting party were not for joining with those of the Eras-
tian side, till they should declare themselves for God and his cause,
against every defection whatever ; but Welch and his party found
out a way to get rid of such officers as they feared most opposition
from ; for ordei-s were given to Eathillet, Haugh-head, Carmichael,
and Smith, to go to Glasgow to meet with Messrs. King and Paton,
which they obeyed. When at Glasgow, King and Paton led them
out of town, as they supposed for the purpose of preaching ; but, upon
being asked where they were going, they replied that, according to
orders which King and Paton had privately received, they were to
go and disperse a meeting of the enemy at Campsie. Upon going
thither, they found they were disappointed, it being only a stratagem
to get free of King and the rest of the faithful officers.
These trusty officers were Mr. Hamilton, General Ilackston of
Rathillet, Hall of Haugh-head, Captain Paton in Meadow-head,
John Balfour of Kinloch, Mr. Walter Smith, William Carmichael,
William Cleland, James Henderson, and Kobert Fleming. Their
ministers were Messrs. Donald Cargill, Thomas Douglas, John Kid,
aud John King ; for Mr. Eichard Cameron was then in Holland.
Henry Hall of Haugh-head, John Paton in Meadow-head, William
Carmichael, and Andrew Turnbull, were ruling elders of the Church
of Scotland.
Thus the protesting party continued to struggle with the Erastian,
until that fatal day, June 22, when they were broken and made to
flee before the enemy. The captain at this time was made a major :
and some accounts bear, that the day preceding he was made a colo-
nel. Mr. Wilson when writing upon that affair, says, that he sup-
poses John Paton, Pobert Fleming, James Henderson, and William
Cleland, were chosen to be colonels of regiments ; however, as he did
not enjoy this place long, we find him still afterwards continued in
the character of captain John Paton.
The sufferers were now exposed to new hardships, and none more
than captain Paton, who was not only declared rebel by order of pro-
clamation, but also a round sum was offered for his head, which
made him be more hotly pursued. A little after Bothwell, the cap-
tain had a most remarkable escape and deliverance from his blood-
thirsty enemies, of which the following account may be given.
The captain with a few more being one night quartered in the
forementioned house of Lochgoin,* with James Howie, who was one
♦ This house and family was also a harbour and succour to our late sufferers, both gentle-
men, ministers, and private Christians; for which, after this and their nonconformity to
prelacy, they were not only harassed, pillaged, and plundered, to the number of ten or
twelve times during that period : but also both the said James Howie, the possessor, and
John Howie, his son, were by virtue of a proclamation, May 5, 1679, declared rebels, their
names inserted in the fugitives' roll, and put on the parish church doors, whereby they
were exposed to close hiding, in which they escaped many imminent dangers ; and yet
were so happy as to survive the Revolution at last, though they never acceded to the re-
volution church, &c. But the said James Howie, when dying, November 1691, emitted a
latter- will or testimony, wherein he not only gave good and satisfying evidence of his own
well-being and saving interest in Jesus Christ, but also gave a most faithful testimony to
Scotland's covenanted work of Reformation, and that in all the parts and periods thereof.
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON. 551
of his fellow-sufferers, — at which time one captain Inglis, with a
party, lay at the dean of Kilmarnock's, who sent out parties on all
hands to see what they could apprehend — and that night a party
being sent out in quest of some of the sufferers, came to Meadow-
head, and from thence went to another remote place in the moors of
Fenwick, called Croilburn ; but finding nothing there, they went
next to Lochgoin, as apprehending they would not miss their design
there ; and that they might come upon this place more securely, they
sent about five men with one sergeant Rae, by another way, whereby
the main body could not come so well up undiscovered.
The sufferers had watched all night, which was very stormy, by
turns, and about daybreak, the captain, on account of his asthmatical
disorder, went to the far-end of the house for some rest. In the
meanwhile, one George Woodburn went out to make observations,
from which he was but a little time returned, when on a sudden, ser-
geant Rae came to the inner door of the house, and cried out, " Dogs,
I have found you now !" The four men took to the spence, — James
and John Howie happening to be then in the byre among the cattle.
The wife of the house, one Isabel Howie, seeing none but the ser-
geant, cried to them to take the hills and not be killed in the house.
She took hold of Rae, as he was coming boldly forward to the door
of the place in which they were, and ran him backward out of the
outer door of the house, giving him such a hasty turn, as made him
lie on the ground. In the mean time, the captain being alarmed,
got up, put on his shoes, though not very hastil}^, and they got all
out before the rest of the party came up. The sergeant fired his gun
at them, which one John Kirkland returned. The bullet passed so
near the sergeant, that it took off the knot of hair on the side of his
head. The whole crew being alarmed, the captain and the rest took
the way for Eaglesham moors, and they followed. Two of the men
ran with the captain, and other two staid by turns, and fired back on
the enemy, the enemy firing on them likewise ; but by reason of
some wetness their guns had got in coming through the water, they
were not so ready to fire, which helped the others to escape.
When they had pursued him some time, John Kirkland turned,
and stooping down on his knee, aimed so well, that he shot a High-
land sergeant through the thigh, in consequence of which the sufferers
gained ground. Being now come to the moors of Eaglesham, the
lour men went to the heights, in view of the enemy, and then caused
the captain, who was now old, to take another way by himself. At
last he got a mare upon the field, which he took the liberty of mount-
ing, that he might the more readily escape; but before he was aware,
a party of dragoons made their appearance. Paton was a most con-
spicuous object ; for he wanted his shoes, and was riding without a
saddle ; however, he passed by them very slowly, and got off undis-
covered ; and at length, giving the mare her liberty, he went to an-
other of his lurking-places. All this happened on a Monday morn-
ing ; and on the morrow these persecutors returned, and plundered
the house, drove off the cattle, and left almost nothing remaining.*
* In the time of this, or another plunder shortly after this, some of the soldiers burnt the
Bible in the fire, in a most audacious manner.
552 SCOTS WORTHIES.
About this time, the captain met with another deliverance; for,
having a child removed by death, the incumbent of the parish, know-
ing the time when the corpse was to be interred, gave notice to a
party of soldiers at Kilmarnock, to come up and take him at the
burial of his child. But some persons present at the burial persuaded
him to turn back, in case the enemy should come upon them at the
church-yard ; which accordingly he did, when he was but a little
distant from the church.
He was also a great succourer of those sufferers himself, in so far
as his circumstances could admit, — several of his fellow-companions
in the tribulation and patience of Jesus Christ resorting at certain
times to him ; such as worthy David Hackston of Eathillet, Balfour
of Kinloch, and Mr. Donald Cargill ; and it is said, that Mr. Cargill
dispensed the sacrament of baptism to twenty-two children in Baton's
barn* at Meadowhead, some time after the engagement at Bothwell-
bridge.f
Not long before his death, about the beginning of August, 1684,
he came to the house of one Bobert Howie in Floack, in the parish
of Mearns, — formerly one of his hiding places, — where he was by
five soldiers apprehended before he or any one in the house were
aware. He had no arms, yet the indwellers there offered him their
assistance if he wanted it. Indeed, they were in a condition to have
rescued him ; yea, he himself, once in a day, could have extricated
himself from double that number ; but he said it would bring them
to further trouble, and as for himself, he was now become weary of
his life, being so hunted from place to place ; and being now well
stricken in years, his hidings became the more irksome. He was
not afraid to die ; for he knew well that whenever he fell into their
liands, this would be the case, and he had now got time to think of
it for many years ; for his interest in Christ, of that he was sure.
They took him to Kilmarnock, but knew not who he was — taking
him for some old minister or other ; till they came to a place on
the highway called Mooryeat, where the goodman of that place see-
ing him in these circumstances, said, Alas 1 captain Baton are you
there ? and then to their joy they knew who they had got into their
hands. He was carried to Kilmarnock, to Ayr, and then back to
Glasgow, and soon after to Edinburgh.
It is reported as a fact, that general Dalziel met him here, and took
him in his arms, saying, " John, I am both glad and sorry to see
you. If I had met you on the way before you came hither, I should
have set you at liberty ; but now it is too late. Be not afraid, I will
write to his majesty for your life." The captain replied, " You will
not be heard." Dalziel said, " Will I not ? If he does not grant
me the life of one man, I shall never draw a sword for him again !"
And it is said that, having spoken some time together, a man came
and said to the captain. You are a rebel to the king. To whom he
* It may not be unworthy of remark that the floor of the barn in which the ordinance
was dispensed and part of the walls are still to be seen.
t This seems to have been when he made a tour through Ayrshire to Galloway. A
little after they were surprised by the enemy on a fast day near Loudon-hill, upon May 5,
1681.
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON. 553
replied, " Friend, I have done more for the king that perhaps thou
hast done." Dalziel said, " Yes, John, that is true !" — perhaps he
meant at Worcester — and he struck the man on the head with his
cane, till he staggered, saying, he would teach him better manners
than to use a prisoner so. After this and more reasoning, the captain
thanked him for his courtesy, and they parted.
His trial was not long delayed. Mr. Wodrow says, that, on April
16, the council ordered a reward of £20 sterling to Cornet Lewis
Lauder for apprehending John Paton, who had been a notorious
rebel these eighteen years. He was brought before the Justiciary,
and indicted for being with the rebels at Glasgow, Bothwell, &c.
The advocate, ex superahundant% passed his being at Pentland and
insisted on his being at Bothwell. The Lords found this libel rele-
vant ; and for probation they refer to his own confession before the
council ; — John Paton, in Meadow-head in Fenwick, that he was
taken in the parish of Mearns, in the house of Robert Howie in
Floack, and that he haunted ordinarily in the fields and moors, con-
fesses that he was moved by the country people to go out in the year
1666, and commanded a party at Pentland ; confesses that he joined
with the rebels at Glasgow, about eight days before the engagement,
and commanded a party at Bothwell, &c. The assize had no more to
cognize upon, but his own confession, yet brought him in guilty.
The Lords condemned him to be hanged at the Grassmarket of Edin-
burgh, on "Wednesday, the 23d of April. But, by other accounts,
lie was charged before the council for being a rebel since the year
1640 ; his being an opposer of Montrose ; his being at Mauchline-
moor, &c.
He was prevailed on to petition the council, upon which he was
respited to the 30th, and from that to May 9th, when he suifered ac-
cording to his sentence. And no doubt Dalziel was as good as his
word ; for it is said, that he obtained a reprieve for him from the
king ; but on its coming to the hands of bishop Paterson, it was kept
up by him till he was executed ; which enraged the general not a
little. It seems they had a mind to spare him ; but as he observed
in his last speech, the prelates put an effectual stop to that. In the
last eight days of his life he got a room by himself, that he might
more conveniently prepare for death ; which was a favour at that
time granted him above many others.
WlTat his conduct or deportment at the place of execution was, we
are now at a loss to know ; only it is believed it was becoming such
a valiant servant and soldier of Jesus Christ, — an evidence of which
we have in his last speech and dying testimony.
Thus another gallant soldier of Jesus Christ came to his end ; the
actions of whose life, and demeanour at death, do fully indicate that
he was of no rugged disposition, as has been by some asserted or
these our late sufferers ; but rather of a meek, judicious, and Chris-
tian conversation, tempered with true zeal and faithfulness for the
cause and interest of Zion's King and Lord. He was of a middle
stature, — as accounts bear — strong and robust, somewhat fair of com-
plexion, with large eyebrows. But what enhanced him more was,
courage and magnanimity of mind, which accompanied him upon
554 SCOTS WORTHIES.
every emergent occasion ; and though his extraction was but mean,
it might be truly said of him, — tliat he lived a hero, and died a
martyr.
ROBERT BAILLIE OF JERVISWOOD.
Distinct altogether from the sufferings he endured, Mr. Baillie of
Jerviswood is justly entitled to the remembrance of posterity, on ac-
count of his highly respectable rank, and his distinguished talents
and virtues. He was bom of an ancient and honourable family — a
family long known as the supporters of civil and religious liberty ;
and of this family he proved himself, for the time, no unworthy re-
presentative. The testimony of some of his most illustrious con-
temporaries proves him to have been one of the best men and
greatest statesmen of his time.
This, however, so far from blunting the sword of persecution, or
defending him from its stroke, only pointed him out as an object the
more proper, because the more prominent, for the malice and fury
of those who, in the period referred to, were waging war against
liberty and religion. That he fell a sacrifice, indeed, to persecuting
intolerance, and died a martyr to the principles of Reformation, to
hig zeal against popery, and arbitrary power, there is not the least
reason to doubt.
In common with many others of his rank and station, he had long
been an object of suspicion to the reigning party. His family had
frequently been harassed and disturbed by parties of soldiers, de-
spatched in pursuit of presbyterians. And in short it appeared that
a pretext was all that was wanting, to bring this excellent man to
trouble, and even to death. Such a pretext was unfortunately at
length given, by his generous interference in behalf of a distressed
and persecuted relative, the Rev. Mr. Kirkton.
Being in Edinburgh in June, 16Y6, and hearing that Mr. Kirkton
was illegally arrested, and without a warrant, by a captain Carstairs,
one of the most devoted instruments of the then administration, he
thought it his duty to interpose for his rescue. For this he was im-
mediately called before the council, and upon giving them an account
of the anair would have been immediately saved from all farther
ROBERT BAILLIE OF JERVISWOOD. 555
trouble on account of it, but'that the infamous Sharp declared, that
if Carstairs were not supported, and Jerviswood made an example of,
there would be no prosecuting of the fanatics. On the next council
day, therefore, Jerviswood was fined £500, and kept four months in
prison before he was released.
He was not again molested till August, 1684, when he was prose-
cuted for being concerned in the Eye-house Plot. He had gone to
England, some time after his late prosecution, and had taken a part
in the plans which were proposed by the patriots of that country, to
emancipate Britain from the galling despotism under which it lay.
By what means he was discovered and apprehended we have not
ascertained. Certain it is, however, that he then appeared in a dying
condition ; and had the commissioners spared him only a few weeks
longer, they would have escaped the indelible blot of inhumanity
which adheres to them, as having brought him to a violent and igno-
minious death. He was carried to the bar in his night-gown, attended
by his sister, who sometimes gave him cordials ; and not being able
to stand was obliged to sit. His indictment bore, in general, his
carrying on a correspondence to debar his royal highness, the king's
only brother, from the right of succession. He was ordered to purge
himself by oath, which he refused. The court fined liim in £6000.
It might have been thought that when he was fined iu this large sum he
had received his final sentence ; but he was still kept shut up in prison,
and denied all attendance and assistance. Bishop Burnet tells us,
that the ministers of state were most earnestly set on Baillie's destruc-
tion, though he was now in so languishing a condition, that if his
death would have satisfied the malice of the court, it seemed to be
very near. He further says, that all the while he was in prison, he
seemed so composed and cheerful, that his behaviour looked like the
reviving of the spirit of the noblest of the old Greeks or Komans, or
rather of the primitive Christians, and first martyrs in those best days
of the church. But the duke, who was then commissioner, was not satis-
fied with all this, so he was brought before the council on the 23d of
December, to be tried capaitlly. Here it is needless to enter into a
minute detail of the trial. Suffice it to say that every means was re-
sorted to, whether legal or not, to ensure his conviction, an object
which it was not difficult to accomplish before such judges. Among
other things, the deposition of Mr. William Carstairs — not the cap-
tain Carstairs formerly mentioned, — which was given by him after an
hour's torture by the thumbkins,"^ and which he expressly provided
* The thumbkins, or thumbikens, as the name imports, was an instrument applied to the
thumbs in such a way as to enable the executioner to squeeze them violently ; and this
was often done with so much force, as to bruise the thumb bones, and swell the arm up to
the shoulders. The thumbikens used in torturing Principal Carstairs was an iron instru-
ment fastened to the table with a screw, the upper part of the instrument being squeezed
down upon the thumbs by means of another screw, which the executioner turned at the
command of his employers.
" It has been very generally asserted," says Dr. Jamieson, " that part of the cargo of
the invincible Armada was a large assortment of thumbikens, which it was meant should
be employed as powerful arguments for convincing the heretics." Lord Fountainhall, in
his chronological notes, 1684, says, "that Spence, Argyle's servant, was again tortured with
the thumbikens, a new invention, and discovered by generals Dalziel and Drummond, who
saw them used in Muscovy." Burnet, in his account of the torturing of Spence, says, " he
556 SCOTS WORTHIES.
should not be employed in proof, was nevertheless pled against him.
When Mackenzie, the king's advocate, had done with his charge,
Baillie made a most impressive answer. Among other things he
paid, " There is one tiling which vexes me most extremely, and
wherein I am injured to the utmost degree, and that is, for a plot to
cut off the king and his royal highness, and that I sat up all nights
to form a declaration to palliate or justify such a villany. 1 am in
probability to appear in some hours before the tribunal of the great
Judge ; and in presence of your lordships, and all here, I solemnly
declare, that I was never prompted or privy to any such thing, and
that I abhor and detest all thoughts and principles for touching the
life of his sacred majesty, or his royal brother!" Then looking
directly to Mackenzie, he said, " My lord, I think it very strange
you charge me with such abominable things ; you may remember
when you came to me in prison, you told me such things were laid
to my charge, but you did not believe them. How then, my lord,
came you to lay such a stain upon me with so much violence ? Are
you now convinced in your own conscience, that I am more guilty
than before? — you may remember what passed betwixt us in the
prison." The whole audience fixed their eyes upon the advocate,
who was in no small confusion, and said, " Jerviswood, I own what
you say ; my thoughts then were as a private man, but what I say
here, is by the special direction of the privy council ;" and pointing
to Mr. William Paterson the clerk, added, " He knows my orders. '
Jerviswood replied, " Well, if your lordship has one conscience for
vourself, and another for the council, I pray God forgive you ; I do."
Then turning to the justice-general he said, " My lord, I trouble
your lordship no further."
Next morning, the 24th of December, the Jury brought him in
guilty ; and the lords condemned him to be hanged at the market-
er oss of Edinburgh, between two and four o'clock that afternoon, his
head to be cut on and fixed on the Netherbow port, and his body to
be quartered ; one of the quarters to be put on the tolbooth of Jed-
burgh, another on that of Lanark, a third on that of Ayr, and a fourth
on that of Glasgow. When the sentence was passed, he said, " My
was struck in the boots and continued firm. Then a new species of torture was invented ;
he was kept from sleep eight or nine nights. They grew weary of managing this, so a
third species was invented ; little screws of steel were made use of, that screwed the
thumbs with so exquisite a torment that he sunk under it." The novelty of the instrument,
in Scotland at least, is put beyond a doubt by an act of the privy council this year, 1684,
quoted by Wodrow : — " Whereas there is now a new invention and engine called the
Ihumbikens, which will be very effectual, &c., &c., his majesty's council do therefore
ordain, &c., &c. ," and we see no reason to question the accuracy of lord Fountainhall's
account both of the country whence, and the persons by whom, this •' exquisite" and
'• effectual" engine was imported.
There is an anecdote told of King William and Principal Carstairs in the fifth vol. of the
Statistical Account of Scotland : — *' I have heard. Principal, that you were tortured with
something they call thumbikens ; pray, what sort of an instrument is it ?" " I will show
it you,"' replied the Principal, " the next time we meet." On the fulfilment of his pro-
mise. " I must try them," said the king, and placing his thumbs in proper places, ordered
the Principal to turn the screws: — " O not so gently !— another,— another.— Stop, stop!
No more ! Another turn, I am afraid, would make me confess anything." Neville Payne,
accused of a Jacobite plot, was, however, in the year 1690, by this same king's warrant,
put to the torture of the thumbikens ; but without making any disclosures. This is the
fast instance of its being used in Scotland.
ROBERT BAILLIE OF JERVISWOOD. 557
lords, the time is short, the sentence is sharp, but I thank my God
who hath made me as fit to die as you are to live.*' He was then
sent back to his apartment in the prison, and, leaning on the bed, he
fell into a rapture at the assured prospect of a blessed eternity. Being
asked after a short silence how he did, he answered, " Never better,
and, in a few hours, I shall be well beyond all conception. They
are going to send me in pieces and quarters ; they may hack nnd
hew my body as they please, but I know assuredly nothing shall be
lost, but that all these my members shall be wonderfully gathered,
and made like Christ's glorious body !" During the few hours he
had to live, his carriage and behaviour were most becoming and Chris-
tian. At his execution he was in the greatest serenity of soul possi-
ble, for a person on this side of heaven, though extremely low in body.
He was not able to go up the ladder without support ; — when on it
he began to say, " My faint zeal for the protestant religion has
brought me to this :" — but the drums interrupted him. He had pre-
pared a speech to be delivered at the scaffold, but was hindered ;
however, he left copies of it with his friends ; and we insert some
hints from it. "As for my principles with relation to government,"
said he, " they are such as I ought not to be ashamed of, being con-
sonant to the word of God, and Confession of Faith of the Eeformed
churches. I die a member of the Church of Scotland, as it was con-
stituted in its best and purest times. I bless God this day I know in
whom I have believed, and to whom I have committed my soul as a
faithful keeper. I know I am going to my God, and my chief joy.
My soul blesseth God, and rejoiceth in him, that death cannot sepa-
rate between me and my God. I leave my wife and children upon
the compassionate and merciful heart of my God, having many re-
iterated assurances that God will be my God, and the portion of
mine. I bless and adore my God, that death for a long time hath
been no terror to me, but rather much desired ; and that my blessed
Jesus hath taken the sting out of it, and made the grave a bed of
roses to all that have laid hold on him by faith which worketh by
love. I have had sharp sufferings for a considerable time, and yet I
must say to the commendation of the grace of God, my suffering
time hath been my best time ; and when my sufferings have been
sharpest, my spiritual joys and consolations have been greatest. Let
none be afraid of the cross of Christ ; his cross is our greatest glory :
wo be to them that are instrumental to banish Christ out of the land !
And blessed are they who are instrumental by a gospel conversation,
and continual wrestling with God, to keep Christ in the nation ; he
is the glory of a land, and if we could but love him, he would not
part with us. Wo be to them that would rather banish Christ out of
the land than love him ! God pour out his* Spirit plenteously on his
poor remnant, that they may give God no rest till he make Jerusa-
lem the joy and praise of the whole earth. I have no more time ; but
they who love Christ, I hope have minded me in my affliction, and
do mind me now, and will mind my wife and children. I go with
joy to Him who is the joy and bridegroom ; to Him who is the
Saviour and Redeemer of my soul. I go with rejoicing to the God
558 SCOTS WORTHIES.
of my life, to my portion and inheritance, to the husband of my soul.
Come, Lord !"
The character of this gentleman was very high. Dr. Owen, who
was acquainted with him, said to a friend, " you have truly men of
freat spirits in Scotland, — there is for a gentleman, Mr. Baillie of
erviswood, a person of the greatest abilities I ever met with." And,
said Bishop Burnet, giving an account of him, " thus a learned and
worthy gentleman, alter twenty months' hard usage, was brought to
such a death, in a way so full, in all the steps of it, of the spirit and
practice of the courts of the inquisition, that one is tempted to think
that the steps taken in it were suggested by one well studied, if not
ractised in them.
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, be-
hind 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 com-
fortable. It had no grate ; the fire was burned on the floor ; and hav-
ing no openings in the wall, the smoke rose tardily to the chimney-
♦ For a beautiful poem on the martyrdom of John Brown, see " The Lays of the Kirk
and Covenant," by Mrs. Montieth, published by R. Carter & Brothers. An eminent
clergyman has said of this book : — " It is long since we enjoyed such a treat as this little
volume has given us. No nation on the face of the globe has a history so full of interest
to the Christian as that of Scotland. Her soil has been consecrated by conflicts more
noble than those immortalized in Homer's song — battles for Christ's crown and covenant,
that have shaped the destinies of man to an extent that nothing but eternity can fully dis-
close. Amid such scenes, the Christian poet finds appropriate materials for song. And
we are glad to find that Mrs. Montieth has the true spirit of the ballad— wild, plaintive,
and soul- moving. That parent must be made of stern stuff, indeed, who can read ' The
Child of James Melville,' with undimmed eyes. Our poetess has embalmed such in-
stances as the Martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton and John Brown, the Signing of the
Covenant, the Death-bed of Rutherford, and the Martyr's Child, in appropriate verse. We
would say, to all lovers of ballads, get this beautifully printed and illustrated volume."
JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL. 559
top. Yet dark and smoky as it was, many had found it a little sanc-
tuary / not only for refuge, but for God's presence.
Though simple in their habits and furniture, the inhabitants of
these wild districts were well informed ; even their children took an
interest in everything that was going on in Scotland, and read the
same books as their fathers did.
John was only a boy when upwards of three hundred ministers
were deposed, in 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 pre-
vailed in the country on that occasion, and the anguish and weeping
throughout the churches, on the sabbath 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 learned,
and all of them singularly dear to their people. " ISTone of them were
scandalous, insufficient, or negligent, and the fruits of their ministry
were everywhere conspicuous. 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 w^as introduced
by arbitrary 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 bor-
der, proverbial for freebooters or robbers, felt the divine effects of
the banished ministers.* They were there harbored without fear or
dread of laws, and kindly entertained. The inhabitants of the heath-
covered moors and the distant isles of the sea were made glad, and
blossomed 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 that John received his supe-
rior education. He was intended for the Church, had not an un-
common difficulty of expressing his sentiments to strangers prevented
him from prosecuting his studies. But what was strange, in prayer
he was gifted in an extraordinary measure. In such scriptural
language did he pour forth his soul, and, at the same time, with such
variety, fluency, and afiection, 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 Priesthill. His actions with
men were just and prudent ; so much so, that he was intrusted,
when a very young man, with the produce of the neighbouring shep-
herds, to carry to market and dispose of, and bring back what they
required in return. In this capacity he got the name of the Chris-
tian Carrier^ and was often the first that brought them tidings of the
mischief that was framed by law against the Presbyterians.
* Mr. Gabriel Semple, and Mr. John Welsh, the grandson of Knox, planted churches
that flourish to this day.
560 SCOTS WORTHIES.
He was merely a youth at the rising of Pentland ; and, not having
heen either at tlie battle of Drumclog or Bothwell, he could evade'
with ease the ensnaring questions that every traveller was required
to answer; by which means he passed to and fro unmolested,—
although he did not attend the curate of Muirkirk, who was a silly,
easy creature, and did not make so many complaints of his parish-
ioners as some did.
John's good education was not lost. Besides being a source of
enjoyment to himself, it was a benefit to the youth for miles around
him, who were then much neglected. To counteract the bad exam-
ple of the wicked who then walked on every side, when vile men
were high in place, every Monday night he met with these young
i)er6ons, and instructed them from the Bible and the Confession of
'aith. 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 substan-
tial information these rustics got, is felt to this day in that neigh-
bourhood. Our Worthy was not alone in this good work ; David
and William Steel were helpmates.
It was about the year 1680, that Priesthill got acquainted with
Isabel Weir, in the parish of Sorn ; she was a very superior woman,
though her disposition was the very reverse of his ; she was lively
and jocular, and could cheer up his grave countenance till he was as
animated as herself. She saw him often ; for he had frequently busi-
ness to transact with her father, when he passed to and from Ayr.
They often talked of Zion's trouble; and what was remarkable, when
he sought her in marriage, he told 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 sunerers had none they could
hear, after the death of Cameron and Cargill. They resolved to form
themselves into societies, to meet quarterly, of members delegated
from their weekly prajer-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 licensed as
l>reacher to them. The fruits of this brought forward Mr. Eenwick,
of glorious 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 welcomed her and said : — " These are to be witnesses of
your vows ; they are all friends, and have come at the risk of their
lives to hear God's word, and to countenance his ordinance of
marriage."
John had, by a former wife, a little girl about five years of age,
who, on the morning after his marriage, lifted the latch of thespence-
door, and finding Isabel alone, said, while she covered her face shyly
with her arm, "They say ye are my mother !" " What if I should
be your mother?" replied Isabel. ^'Naething, but if I thought ye
JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL. ggX
were my mother, I would like to come in aside you a wee," said
Jennie, with artless simplicity. " I hope I will be your mother, my
bairn, and that God will give me grace to be so, and that you will
be a comfort to me and your father." And she 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 dis-
tance, coming along the bent, she would announce the joyful tidings.
Then the gudewife hasted, and made ready his milk porridge, had
them dished, covered 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 ofi' 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 mar-
riage, 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 Hamil-
ton. 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 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 approach 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 unco 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 encouragement, and then to
her guest. She led him to her father's chair with a courtesy that
I seemed to give rise to strong emotions in his heart.
I The stranger was young in years, of a little stature, and fine fair
j countenance ; but he was pale with fatigue and sickness. His shoes
were worn out ; a shepherd's plaid hung round him, seemingly for
i disguise ; for by his dress and speech he seemed of a superior rank.
I While the servants gazed on him, the gudewife did not know
I 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
i old song.
While the gudewife sang, the stranger's face brightened up, and
he more cheerfully accepted the child's endearing attentions, who
; placed him in the warmest corner, helped him oft' with his dripping
1 plaid, imitating all the kind offices she had seen her mother perform
to her father, to the no small amusement of the rest of the family.
On the stranger it had a different effect. He burst into tears, and
i 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
\ * Carriers in those days were unacquainted with the luxury of wheel-carts ; and there
■were no turnpikes on which wheels could run.
36
502 SCOTS WORTHIES.
me a place to rest my head for a niglit. O that I had in the wilder-
ness a lodging-place of wayfaring men, that I might leave my people
and go from them ; for they be an assembly of treacherous men."
Just as he had finished, rriesthill 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 tliat 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. Eenwick,* — for it was he, though he was not named
before the family, — " but the excessive travelling, night-wanderings,
unseasonable sleep, frequent preaching in all weathers, especially in
the night, has so debilitated me, that I am unfit often for my work.''
Every one of the family now strove to do him some kindness. The
shepherd brought him clean hose and shoes ; the herd his new
night-cap ; the lasses left their wheels and washed his feet ; the
gudewife prepared him a warm supper, while little Janet, worn out,
was fast asleep at his side.
In those days, hospitality was with many in reality what it ought
to be, purely exercised for God's glory, and without display of gran-
deur. 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 sharpeneth iron, so doth the face of man his
friend. Renwick and Priesthill talked of the sufierings 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. Ren wick left Priesthill, his followers and he pub-
lished their Apologetic Declaration. Mr. Ren wick was at first
averse to the measure, but at last agreed.
The society that met at Priesthill was soon broken up. John
AVilson, 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 Marcli
following, by lieutenant Murray, after the promise of quarter.
After this, Priesthill could not continue his business of carrier,
though he had no hand in the Apologetic Declaration. His opinion
— and his conduct was consistent with it — was, that he ought to live
as in an enemy's country, and without sin. Yet he was often obliged
to betake to the high lands of Kyle and of Lanarkshire, and to beai'
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 re-
fuge to a deep ravine, or moss-hag, that had been formed by the cur-
rent 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 strangers ,
only the neighbouring husbandmen knew where the brackens hid tlie
* The last who sufFered death in Scotland for the sake of truth and a good conscience.
He was executed at Edinburgh, Feb. 17th, 1688.
JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL.
563
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 begun 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 John, as he rose from his knees to search them out ;
and to his no small joy found out David and William Steel, his
neighbours, and Joseph Wilson, from Lesmahagow, 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 coming !" 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 unconscious,
turned over him a heap of bedding, 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, " Mistress, 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 faund it as the soldier had
said.
William Steel, who escaped death from the persecutors, and lived
many years after the Eevolution, 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 conscientious coun-
trymen to favour and emolument, was Graham of Claverhouse. " He
I was descended from the house of Montrose, and was educated in
France, the best school for dissolute manners and cruelty. He fought
against the French in the Low 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.
jHis dissolute manners and vivacity soon got him notice at court, and
the command of a party of Highlanders." His first appearance on
jthe stage of Scotland's tragedy was in 1678, taking free quarters for
himself and men in the house of Gilbert M'Michen, in J^ew Glen-
luce ; and when they went off, besides what they consumed, they
took with them three horses, worth ten pounds each. In every suc-
ceeding appearance he may be marked as rising in cruelty and
fexaction.
j Charles being now dead, James, duke of York, required such in-
'^truments to compel submission to his system of cruelty. Having
low thrown off the mask, the suspicion of the Keformers, that Pr$-
5g4 SCOTS WORTHIES.
lacy was to be handmaid to the introduction of Popery in Scot
land, was verified. For that purpose he enlarged the commission of
Claverhouse, and created him viscount of Dundee.
" The measure of fixing garrisons of soldiers through the south and
west counties, as if Scotland had been invaded by a foreign enemy,
was the beginning of many cold-blooded murders in the field. One
of these garrisons was fixed at Lesmahagow." Claverhouse came un-
expectedly there, late on the last night of April, 1685, and having
heard of John's piety and non-conformity, by six o'clock next morn-
ing he was at Priesthill, — a proof how he thirsted after the blood of
Buch men.
As usual, John had risen with the dawn, and had offered up the
morning sacrifice. 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 before them, more resembling a leader than a captive.
Meanwhile Janet had alarmed her mother by telling her that a
great many horsemen 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 taken 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. Claverhouse
simply asked him why he did not attend the curate, and if he would
pray for king James? He said he acknowledged only Christ as
supreme Head of the Church, and could not attend the curates, be-
cause they were placed there contrary to His law.
Upon hearing this, Claverhouse said : — " Go to your prayers, for
you shall immediately die," which he did in such a manner as filled
the troops with amazement. 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 un-
born, as one refreshed by the influence of the Holy Spirit, when he
comes down like rain upon the mown grass, as showers upon the
earth."
When Claverhouse could bear his prayers no longer, and had suc-
ceeded after interrupting him twice with the most blasphemous lan-
guage, to raise him from his knees, John said to his wife : — " Isabel,
this is the day I told you of before we were married ;" and added,
with his usual kindness, " you see me summoned to appear in a few
minutes before the court oi heaven, as a witness in our Redeemer's
cause, against the ruler of Scotland. Are you willing that I should
Eart from you ?" " Heartily willing," said she, in a voice that spoke
er 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 tenderly laid his arms around her,
©
s
-s
^
o
JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL. 565
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, 0 Holy Spirit, that speaketh more comfort to my heart than
the voice of my oppressors can speak terror to my ears !" Thus, when
the Lord brought his witness to be tried, he discovered such a mag-
nanimity, that, as he fell, he conquered 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 enduring. It was doubtless under this feel-
ing that Claverhouse ordered six of his dragoons to shoot him, ere the
last words were out of his mouth ; but his prayers and conduct had
disarmed them from performing such a savage action. They stood
motionless. Fearing for their mutiny, Claverhouse 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-heart-
ed wife, while she gathered up the shattered head, by taunting jeers ;
" What thinkest thou of thy husband now, w^oman ?" " I ever thought
meikle good of him," said she, " and now more than ever." He, see-
ing, her courage, said, " It were but justice to lay thee beside him."
She replied, '' If ye were permitted, 1 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 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, covered it
with her plaid, and, when she had nothing further to do or contend
with, sat down on the ground, drew her children to her, and wept over
her mangled husband.
j The mourners of Priesthill did not long want friends. The report of
I the foul deed circulated rapidly, creating dismay and abhorrence.
I Who now could think themselves safe, when John Brown was thus
; treated, who was not otherwise obnoxious to government than in not
I attending a curate several miles distant ? The first who arrived on the
I spot was David Steel's wife, one well fitted to comfort in the most
j trying dispensation. She ran up to the group, and throwing her arms
I around them, saluted Isabel thus, " Wow, woman ! and has your mas-
ter been taken from your head this day ; and has God taken you and
■ your children under his own care, saying, ' I will be a husband to the
widow, and a father to the fatherless V No wonder though ye were
j overcome and astonished at his doings." This salutation aroused and
: strengthened the widow. She remembered the words of Mr. Peden,
! and she arose from the ground to search out the linen he had w^arned
her to prepare. About this time David Steel, and William Steel with
i his wife, arrived, and assisted Isabel to bring in and wrap up the pre-
j cious dust. All was done, while the silence of death reigned over the
1 household.
As was said of the proto-martyr Stephen, devout men carried him
566 SCOTS WORTHIES.
to his burial. In like manner was John Brown carried forth and laid
in his grave, on the very spot where he fell.
The i)Oor 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 toEdinbm-gh, fell into conversation with
a respectable-looking countrywoman on the road, and learning that
she was a grand-daughter of John Brown, he on that account made
lier 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. Kone of them now reside at Priest-
hill ; 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 wrong'd by encroaching tyranny.
Nothing how near so ever he to good
Esteem'd, nor dear for any truth his blood.
JOHN NTSBET OF HARDHILL.
John Nisbet was born about the yeai 1627. He was the son of
James Nisbet, and lineally descended from one Murdoch Nisbet in
Hardhill, who, about the year 1500, joined those called tlie Lollards
of Kyle. When a persecution arose against them, he fled over the
seas, carrying with him a copy of the New Testament in manuscript.
Some time after, he returned 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, IS'isbet, having the advantage
of being tall, athletic and well formed in person, of a bold and dar-
ing spirit, went abroad and joined the army, which was of great use
to him afterwards. Having spent some time in foreign countries, he
returned 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
JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL.
66t
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 Stonehoufee churchyard. This be-
hoved to be done in the night, that it might be concealed ; because
no one would do it, save such as were under hidings during the day.
The curate obtaining knowledge of it, threatened to raise the body,
burn it, or cast it to the dogs ; but some of the persecuted party sent
him a letter, assuring him that if he touched these graves, they would
burn him and his family, and all he had ; so he forbore.
E'isbet 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 unspeakable advantage to him in the after
part of his life, in maintaining the testimony 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 discretion
and prudence. No sooner did prelacy and erastianism appear on the
field, in opposition to our ancient and laudable 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 N"isbet next Lord's day. But behold the
Lord's hand interposed here ; for before that day came the curate
was in eternity.
This gentleman, being always active for religion, and a great
encourager of field-meetings, was, with the rest of Christ's faithful
witnesses, obliged to go without the camp bearing his reproach.
When that faithful remnant assembled together, and renewed the
covenant at Lanark, 1666, his conscience summoned him out to join
them in that particular circumstance : which being known, and
threatened for such an action, he resolved to follow these persecuted
people, and so kept with them in arms till their defeat, upon the
28th of November, at Pentland hills, at which fight he behaved with
great courage and resolution. He fought till he was so wounded
that he was stripped for dead among the slain ; and yet such was the
providence of God that he was preserved.
He had espoused Christ's cause by deliberate choice, and was
indeed of an excellent spirit ; and, as Solomon says, •' more excel-
lent than his neighbour," — his natural temper was likewise noble and
generous. As he was travelling through a moor, on a snowy day,
one of his old neighbours, who was seeking sheep, met him, and
cried out, " O Hardhill, are you yet alive ? I was told you were
going in a pilgrim's habit, and that your bairns were begging; and
yet I see you look as well as ever !" Then taking out a rix-doUar, he
offered it to him. 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 hy
568 SCOTS WORTHIES.
Ilia name — would have gone so far with the enemies of God, as to sell
your conscience to save your gear, &c. Take warning, II., go home
and mourn for that, and all your other sins, before God ; for, if mercy
do not prevent, you will certainly perish." The poor man thanked
him, put up his money, and went home. After this remarkable
escape he returned home, where probably he continued till the year
3679. Ilis fame for courage, wisdom, and resolution, among the suf-
ferers, when that party, who were assembled near Loudon-hili 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 Loudon, to come to their
assistance. But before they got half-way they heard the platoons 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 I'age 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
enjoyment of the gospel, faithfully preached in the fields. And,
being a man of a public spirit, a great observer of fellowship meet-
ings— alas! a duty too much neglected — and very staunch upon
points of testimony, he became 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 established
some years before, that they might the better 'understand the mind of
one another in carrying on a testimony in that broken state.
One thing very remarkable was — on the Sabbath night (being that
day week before he was taken,) as he and four more were travelling,
it being very dark, no wind, but a thick small rain — behold! sud-
denly the clouds clave asunder towards east and w^est, over their
heads, and a light sprang out beyond that of the sun, which lasted
I
JOHN NESBIT OF HARDHILL. 569
about the S})ace of two minutes. They heard a noise, and were much
amazed, saying one to another, What may that mean ? but Kisbet
returned no answer, 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 wTestler in prayer, yet
so little was he accustomed to refer to his own case, that few knew
how it was with him, nntil he came to prison.
All this and more could not escape the knowledge of the managers,
as evident from Earlston's answers before the council, 1683 ; and we
find, that one of the articles 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 sufferers more
desperate. Whereupon, in the month of November, 1683, having
retired, amongst other of his lurking-places, to a certain house called
Midland, in the parish of Fenwick, where were assembled for prayer
and other religious exercises, on a Saturday night, other three of his
faithful brethren, viz., Peter Gemmel, a younger brother of the house
of Horsehill, in the same parish; George Woodburn, a brother of
the Woodburns, in the moors of Loudon ; and one John Fergushill
from Tarbolton. Upon notice that Lieutenant IS^isbet and a party of
colonel Buchan's dragroons 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 obliged to turn back with him, after
they had gone a little way from the house, and were the same day
apprehended, — the way and manner of which, with his answers both
at Ayr and before the council at Edinburgh, as they stand in an old
manuscript given in his own hand, while he was their prisoner, is as
follows : —
" First, when the enemy came within sight of the house — we seeing
no way of escape — John Fergushill went to the far end of the house,
and the other two and I followed. And ere we were well at the far
end of the house, some of the enemy were in the house. And then,
in a little after, they came and put in their horses and went to and
fro in the house for more than an hour ; and w^e 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
bid us there, we resolved not to have owned them ; but if they found
570 SCOTS WORTHIES.
lis out, we thought to fight, saying to each other, it was death at
length. They got all out of the house, and had their horses drawn
forth ; but in" a little they came back,* tittling one to another ; and at
last cried for a candle to search the house with ; and came within a
yard of us, with a light in their hand. According to our former
resolution, we resisted them, having only three shots, and one of
them misgiving, and they fired about twenty-four at us ; and when
we had nothing else, we clubbed our guns, till two of them were
quite broke, and then went in grips with some of them ; and when
they saw they could not prevail, they all cried, to go out and set fire
to the house. Upon which we went out after them, and I received
six wounds in the going out. After which, they getting notice what
I was, some of them cried out to spare my life, for the council had
offered 3000 merks for me. So they brought me towards the end of
the yard, and tied my hands behind my back, having shot the other
three to death. He that commanded them scofiUngly 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 dis-
coureed 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 Kil-
marnock 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
Gemmelf and me to lie upon, but 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
* 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 con-
fessed 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 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.
t This John Gemmel was brother to the martyr who was killed at Midland, and being
lying of a fever in a house in the same parish called DerwhoUing, he was that day appre-
hended by some of the same party, together with Thomas Wy lie, and his son William, for
reset. They were all taken to Ayr, where the said Thomas Wylie died. While in Ayr, it
is fcaid that John Gemmel dreamed one night that he should be banished, and his fellow-
sufferer Hardhill should be hanged, which accordingly 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 government. But in this he proved a false prophet.
However, be and John Gemmel were, with eleven more, banished to Barbadoes, and sold
for slaves, where they continued for about three years, and at last purchased their liberty
and returned home at the Revolution. The first known person they saw, after their land-
ing at Irvine, was lieutenant Nisbet, by whom they had been apprehended.— It may be
interesting to the reader to knuw, that the above-mentioned John Gemmel was great-
grand-uncle to Robert Pollok, author of the " Course of Time."
JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. 5^1
that were come on the poor barony of Cunningham, 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 tolbooth of Ayr, there came two, and asked some
things at me, but they were to little purpose. Then I was taken out
with a guard, and brought before Buchan. He asked me, 1. If I
was at the conventicle ? I told him, I looked upon it as my duty.
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. 4. Do you own the king ? I told him, while he owned
the way and work of God, I thought myself bound both to own and
fight for him ; but when he quitted the way of God, I thought I was
obliged to quit him. 5. Will you own the duke of York as king ?
I told him, I would not ; for it was both against my principles and
the laws of the nation. 6. Were you clear to join with Argyle? I
said, No. He held me long, and spake of many things. We had
the muster through hands, popery, prelacy, presbyterianism, malig-
nants, defensive and offensive arms, there being none in the room
but he and I. I thought it remarkable that all the time from
Sabbath to this present, I had and have as much peace and quietness
of mind as ever in my life. O help me to praise him ! for he alone
did it. ISTow, 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 forward, 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
jangling.
" When I came to Edinburgh, I was the first night kept in the
guard-house. The next night I was brought into their council-house,
where were present lords Ferth, Linlithgow, and one bishop Fater-
son, with several others. They first said to me, that they looked upon
me as 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. They then 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 ye ask such ques-
tions, for these meetings were called so when our Church was in her
power. 3. Were there any such meetings at that time? There were
in some places of the land. 4. Did the ministers of the place meet
572 SCOTS WORTHIES.
with them in these ? Sometimes they did, and sometimes they did
not. 5. What mean you by your general meetings, and what do ye
at them? While I was thinking what to answer, one of themselves
told them more distinctly than I could have done; and jeeringly said,
looking to me, When they have done, then they distribute their col-
lections. I held my peace all the time. 6. Where keep ye these
meetings ? In the wildest moors we can think of. Y. Will you own
the king's authority ? No. 8. What is your reason — you own the
Scriptures and your own Confession 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 tlie
Confession. There is a vast difierence ; for he being a Roman
Catholic, and I being not only brought up in the Presbyterian prin-
ciples from my youth, but also sworn against Popery. 10. What is
that to you, though he be popish, he is not bidding 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 sufferings, and killed. They said it was
not so, for we might have the gospel, if our wild principles would
suffer us to hear it. I said they might say so, but the contrary was
well known through the land ; for ye banished away our faithful
ministers, and thrust in such as live rather like profligates than like
ministers, so that poor things neither can nor dare join with them. 11.
Are ye clear to join with Argyle ? 'No. Then one of them said. Ye
will have no king but Mr. James Renwick ; and asked, if I conversed
with any other minister upon the field than Mr. Penwick. I told
them, I conversed with no other ; and a number of other things
passed that were to little purpose.
" This is a true hint of any material thing that passed betwixt
them and me. As for their drinking of healths, never one of them
spoke of it to me ; neither did any of them bid me pray for their
king ; but they said that they knew I was that much of a Christian
that I would pray for all men. I told them I was bound to pray for
all ; but prayer being instituted by a holy God, who is the hearer of
prayer, no Christian could pray when every profligate 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 necessity required ; and now, when I cannot lay down
my own head, nor lift it without help, yet of all the cases I ever was
in I had never more contentment. I can now give the cross of
Christ a noble commendation. It was always sweet and pleasant,
but never so sweet and pleasant as now. Under all my wanderings,
and all my toilings, a prison was so i terrifying to me that I could
never have been so sure as I would have been. But immediately
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. There-
fore, let none scare or stand at a distance from their duty for fear of
the cross ; for now I can say from experience, that it is as easy, yea,
JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL. 573
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 justiciary. Accordingly, on the 30th, he was before the
justiciary, and arraigned, his own confession being the only proof
against him, which runs thus : — " John Msbet of Hardhill, prisoner,
confesses, when examined before the council, that he was at Drum-
clog, had arms, and made use of them against the king's forces ; that
he was at Glasgow ; and that he was at a field meeting within these
two months, betwixt Eaglesham and Kilbride," &c. ; which being
read, he adhered to, but refused to subscribe it. The jury brought
him in guilty, and the lords sentenced him to be executed at the
Grassmarket, December 4, betwixt two and four in the afternoon, and
his lands, goods, and gear, to be forfeited to the king.
It was inserted by the council in his confession, that the reason
why he could not join with Argyle was, that one Cleland told him
that Argyle and his party were against all kingly government. Mr.
Wodrow 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 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.
Wodrow has observed, viz., because the societies could not espouse
his declaration, as the state of the quarrel was not concerted accord-
ing to the ancient plea of the Scottish 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 composure, and
died in much assurance, and with a joy which none of his persecu-
tors could interfere with. It was afl[irmed by some who were present
at his execution, that the scaffold or gibbet gave way and came down,
which made some present flatter 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.
574: SCOTS WORTHIES.
ALEXANDER PEDEN.
Alexander Peden was born in the parish of Sorn, in the shire of
Ayr. After he had finished his univei-sitj curriculum, he was for
sometime employed as schoolmaster, precentor, and session-clerk, to
Mr. John Guthrie, minister of the Gospel at Tarbolton.
A little before the Restoration, he was ordained minister at IS'ew
Luce in Galloway, where he continued for about the space of three
years, until thrust out by the violence 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 Revolution 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, where-
in he was charged with holding conventicles, preaching, and baptiz-
ing children, at Ralstoun in Kilmarnock, and at Castlehill in Craigie
parish, where he baptized twenty-four children. But upon his non-
appearance at this citation, he was next year declared a rebel, and
forfeited both life and fortune.
After this, he joined that faithful party, which, in the same year,
was dispersed at Pentland hills ; and with them he came the length
of Clyde, where he had a melancholy view of their end, and parted
with them there. Afterwards, when one of his friends said to him,
" Sir, you did well that left them, seeing you was persuaded that they
would fall and flee before the enemy," he was offended and said,
"Glory, glory to God, that he sent me not to hell immediately, for I
should have stayed with them, though I should have been cut in
pieces."
In the same year he met with a very remarkable deliverance. For,
while riding in company with Mr. Welch, and the laird of Glerover,
they met a party of the enemy's horse. The laird fainted, fearing
they should be taken ; Peden seeing this, said, " Keep up your cour-
age and confidence, for God hath laid an arrest on these men that
they shall do us no harm." When they met they were courteous, and
asked the way. Peden went off the way, and showed them the ford
of the water of Titt. When he returned, the laird said, " Why did
you go ? you might have let the lad go with them." " ifo," said he,
ALEXANDER PEDEN. 575
" Tliej might have asked questions of the lad, which might have dis-
covered 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 Scotland, and sometimes in Ire-
land, until June, 16Y3, when he was by major Cockburn taken in the
house of Hugh Ferguson of Knockdew, in Carrick, who had con-
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. Sometime after
his examination, Peden was sent prisoner to the Bass.
One day, as he was walking on the rock, some soldiers were pass-
ing 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 repent 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 singular Christian.
Peden was brought from the Bass to Edinburgh, and was sentenced,
in December, 1678, along with other sixty prisoners for the same
cause, to be banished to America, never to be seen again in Scotland,
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 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 thumbkins nor bootkins come
here ; lift up your hearts, for the day of your redemption drawcth
near : if we were once at London, we will all be set at liberty," &c.
In their voyage thither they had the opportunity of seizing the com-
mander of the ship, and escaping, but did not choose to avail them-
selves of it without his advice. He said, "Let all alone, for the Lord
will set all at liberty in a way more conducive to his own glory, and
our own safety." Accordingly, when they arrived, the skipper who
received them at Leith, being to carry them no farther, delivered
them to another, to carry them to Yirginia, to whom they were re-
presented as thieves and robbers. But when he came to see them,
and found they were all grave sober Christians, banished for Presby-
576 SCOTS WORTHIES.
terian principles, he would sail the sea with none such. In this con-
fusion, the one captain refusing to receive them, and the other not
choosing to retain them on account of the expense, thej were set at
liberty. Some say the captain got compliments from friends in Lon-
don. Others assure us, that they got off through means of the Lord
Shaftesbury, who was always friendly to the Presbyterians. How-
ever, it is certain they were all liberated at Gravesend, without any
bond or imposition whatever. And, in their way homeward, the
English showed them no small degree of kindness.*
After they were set at liberty, Peden staid at London, and other
places of England, until 1679, when he came to Scotland. 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 w^hom 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 Hamilton, and they are hashing and bagging them down,
w and their blood is running down like water."
After this, in the year 1682, he married that singular Christian,
John Brown, at his house in Priesthill, in the parish of Muirkirk in
Kyle, to one Isabel Weir. After marriage, he said to the bride,
" Isabel, you have got a good man to be your husband, but you will
not enjoy him long : prize his company, and keep linen by you to be
his winding-sheet, for you will need it when you are not looking for
it, and it will be a bloody one," which sadly came to pass in the be-
ginning of May, 1685.
In the same year, 1682, he went to Ireland again, and coming to
the house of William Steel in Glenwhary, in the county of Antrim,
he inquired at Mrs. Steel if she wanted a servant for thrashing of
victual. She said, they did ; and asked what his wages were a-day
and a-week. He said, the common rate was a common rule. To
which he 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 1
♦ Among those against whom this iniquitous sentence was passed, there was one, by-
name Alexander Anderson, who was only fifteen years of aj;e, and deserves to be remem-
bered, at once for his youth, and his piety. The historian Wodrow gives the following ac-
count of a testimony which he left behind him : — " He takes notice," says he, " that he 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
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 Wodrow, i. 024.
ALEXANDER PEDEN. 577
think lib lias 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 an account of his circum-
stances. But he was no more set to work, or to lie with the lad. He
staid some considerable time in that place, and was a blessed instru-
ment 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 Ireland ; both from a fearful ap-
prehension 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 Scotland. Before his departure from thence, he baptized a child
to one John Maxwell, a Glasgow man, who had fled over from the
persecution.
After he and twenty Scots sufferers came aboard, he went on deck
and prayed — there not being then the least wind — where he made
a rehearsal of times and places when and where the Lord had helped
them in the day of their distress, and now they were in a great strait.
Waving his hand to the west, from w^hence he desired the wind, he
said, " Lord, give us a loof-full of wind ; fill the sails, Lord, and give
us a fresh gale, and let us have a swift and safe passage over to the
bloody land, come of us what will." When he began to pray the sails
were hanging all straight down, but ere he ended, they were all blown
full, and they got a very swift and safe passage over. In the morn-
ing, after they landed, he lectured, ere they parted, on a brae-side :
in which he had some awful threatenings against Scotland, saying,
" The time was coming, that they might travel many miles in Gal-
loway, l^ithsdale, Ayr, and Clydesdale, and not see a reeking house,
or hear a cockcrow ;" and further added, " My soul trembles to think
what will become of the indulged, backslidden, and upsetting minis-
ters of Scotland ; as the Lord lives, none of them shall ever be honoured
to put a right pin in the Lord's tabernacle, nor assert Christ's kingly
prerogative as Head and King of his Church."
After his arrival in Scotland, in the beginning of the year 1685, he
met with several remarkable deliverances from the enemy. One
time, fleeing from them on horseback, he was obliged to ride a water,
"where he was in imminent danger. After 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 before him.
One of the dragoons being more forward than the rest, run himself
37
5tB SCOTS WORTHIES.
into that dangerous bog, where he and the horse were never seen
more.
About this time he preached one Sabbath night in a sheep-fold,
the hazard of the time affording no better. That niglit 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 kingdoms. And there shall never a man of the house of
Stuart sit upon the throne of Britain, after the duke of York, w^hose
reign is now short, for their lechery, treachery, tyranny, and shed-
ding the precious 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
eung the 32d psalm, from the Tth verse to the end ; and then repeated
that verse, —
" Thou art my hiding place, thou shalt
From trouble keep me free ;
Thou with songs of deliverance
About shalt compass me :"
Saying, " These and the following are sweet lines, which I got
at the burn-side this morning, and will get more to-morrow ; and so
will get daily provision. He was never behind any who put their
trust in Him, and w^e will go on his strength, making 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 remembrance, and tell it to the com-
mendation of thy goodness, pity, and compassion, w^hat 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 ;>
great company with him.
At this time it was seldom that Peden could be prevailed on t<>
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 Carrick, John Clerk of Muir-
brook, being with him, said, " Sir, what think you of this time ? Is
ALEXANDER PEDEN. 579
it not a dark and melancholy day ? Can there be a more discourag-
ing time than this ? He said, " Yes, John, this is a dark discourag-
ing time, but there will be a darker time than this; these silly
graceless creatures, the curates, shall go down : and after them shall
arise a party called Presbyterians, but having little more but the
name ; and these shall, as really as Christ was crucified without the
gates of Jerusalem on Mount Calvary bodily, I say, they shall as
really crucify Christ, in his cause and interest in Scotland ; and shall
lay him in his grave, and his friends shall give him Jiis 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, they shall be so dark, that if a poor
thing would go between the east sea-bank and the west sea-bank,
seeking a minister to whom they would communicate their case, or
tell them the mind of the Lord concerning the time, he shall not find
one." John asked, where the testimony should be then ? He answer-
ed, " In the hands of a few, who would be despised and undervalued of
all, but especially by those ministers who buried Christ ; but after
that he shall get up upon them ; and at the crack of his winding-
sheet, as many of them as are alive, who were at the burial, shall be
distracted and mad with fear, not knowing what to do : then, John,
there shall be brave days, such as the Church of Scotland never saw
the like ; I shall not see them, but you may."
About this time, as he was preaching in the day-time in the parish
of Girvan, and being in the fields, one David Mason, then a profess-
or, came in haste, trampling upon the people to be near him. At
which he said, "There comes the devil's rattle-bag, we do not want
him here." After this, the said David became officer and informer
in that bounds, running through, rattling and summoning the people
to their unhappy courts for non-conformity ; at which he and his family
got the name of the devil's rattle-bag. Since the Eevolution, he
complained to his minister that he and his family got that name.
The minister said, " Ye well deserved it ; and he was an honest man
that gave you it : you and yours must enjoy it : there is no help for
that."
His last sermon was preached in the Collimwood, at the water of
Ayr, a short time before his death. In the preface before this
sermon, he said, " There are four or five things I have to tell you
this night ; 1st, A bloody sword, a bloody sword, a bloody sword,
for thee, O Scotland, that shall pierce the hearts of many. 2dly,
Many miles shall ye travel, and see nothing but desolation and ruinous
wastes in thee, O Scotland. 3dly, The most fertile places in thee
shall be as waste as the mountains. 4thly, The women with child
shall be ript up and dashed in pieces. And, 5thly, Many a conven-
ticle has God had in thee, O Scotland ; but, ere long, God will make
a conventicle that will make Scotland tremble. Many a preaching
has God bestowed on thee ; but, ere long, God's judgments 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 breaking, burning, and burying his covenant,
580 SCOTS WORTHIES.
persecuting, slighting, and contemning the gospel, shedding the
precious blood of his saints and servants. God sent forth a Wel-
wood, 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 these men's words fall to the ground,
that he sent forth with a commission to preach these things in his
name." In the sermon, he further said, that a few years after his
death, there would be a wonderful alteration of affairs in Britain and
Ireland, and Scotland's persecution should cease ; upon which every
one would believe the deliverance was come, and, consequently,
would fall fatally secure; but you will be all very far mistaken, for
both Scotland and England will be scourged by foreigners, and a set
of unhappy men in these land taking part with them, before any of
you can pretend to be happy, or get a thorough deliverance ; which
will be a more severe chastisement than any other they have met
with, or can come under, if once that were over.
After much wandering from place to place, through Kyle, Carrick,
and Galloway, his death drawing near, he came to his brother's
house, in the parish of Sorn, where he was bom, where he caused
them to dig a cave, with a willow-bush covering the mouth thereof,
near to his brother's house. The enemy got notice, and searched
the house narrowly several times, but him they found not. "While
in this cave, he 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, They would be in
holes and caves of the earth, and be supplied with meat and drink ;
and when they came out of their holes, they would not have freedom
to walk for stumbling on dead corpses. And, 4thly, A stone cut out
of the mountain would come down ; and God would be avenged on
the great ones of the earth, and the inhabitants of the land, for their
wickedness : and then the church would come 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 judg-
ments." 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 earnestly
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 adultery. 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 tne military service, being the first man who put his hands
to his corpse.
Peden nad for some time been too credulous in believing the obli-
quous misrepresentations of some false brethren concerning Mr.
James Ren wick, whereby he was much alienated from him ; which
s
§
J
ALEXANDER PEDEN. 581
exceedingly grieved Mr. Eenwick, stumbled some of his followers,
and confirmed some of his adversaries, who boasted that now Peden
was turned his enemy. But now, when dying, he sent for him. Mr.
Ren wick 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 no ground to make
any noise about me, for I have espoused no new principles or prac-
tices, but wliat our reformers and Covenanters maintained." He
caused him to sit down, and give him an account of his conversion,
principles, and call to the ministry. All which Mr. Renwick did, in
a most distinct manner. "When ended, Peden said, " Sir, you have
answered me to ray 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 ex-
press 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 enlarge-
ment. When ended, Peden took him by the hand, and drew him to
him, and kissed him, saying, " Sir, I find you a faithful 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, support, and comfort him in all his duties and diffi-
culties.^
" 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 ye
going ? the enemy will be here. ' He said, " I know that." "Alas !
Sir," said she, " what will become of you ? you must go back to the
cave again." He said, " I have done with that, for it is discovered ;
but there is no matter ; for, within forty-eight hours, I will be be-
yond the reach of all the devil's temptations, and his instruments
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 Auchinleck's isle, but a troop of
dragoons came and lifted his corpse.f and carried it two miles, to
* Some have doubted of the certainty of this interview ; however, there is no seeming
improbability in it ; nor is it any disparagement to either Peden or Mr. Renwick.
t After this (says Patrick Walker) that troop of dragoons came to quarter in Cambus-
nethan ; two of them were quartered in the house of James Gray, one of his acquain-
tances ; and, being frightened in their sleep, started up, and clapped their hands, crying,
'* Peden, Peden !" These two dragoons affirmed, that, out of their curiosity, they oj)ened
the coffin to see his body, and it had no smell, though he had been forty days dead.-
582 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 faithfulness, 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 re-
spect to the church and nation of Scotland and Ireland, and parti-
cular persons and families, several of which are already accom-
plishea. 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."* And although these things are now
made to stoop or yield to the force of ridicule, and the sarcasms of
the profane, and the fashions of an atheistical age and generation ;
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 BLACK ADDER.
John Blackadder was a lineal descendant, and the only represen-
tative of the house of TuUiallan. After he had gone through his
course of classical learning, he was ordained minister of the gospel
at Troqueer, in the neighbourhood of Dumfries. 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 profanity, — a
work rendered the more diflicult, as it was necessary in the present
case to begin with tlie eldership, who appear, through complete in-
dolence, to have suffered all proper discipline to fall into disuse.
This accomplished, Blackadder made next an effort on his parishion-
ers ; and, as he found them completely ignorant on the matter, he
commanded the Session Records to be produced. After this, he ap-
pointed teachers, who were instructed at once to reason with heretics,
* John Kerr of Kersland, in his Memoirs, page 8, where he adds, that when some peo-
ple were going to join Argyle in 1685. Peden. after a short ejaculation, bid them stop, for
Argyle was fallen a sacrifice that minute. Some taking out their watches, marked the
time, which accordingly answered to his being taken.
JOHN BLACKADDER. 583
and to expound the Scriptures to tliose whose intellectual faculties
were naturally weak. His own Sabbath discourses had chiefly for
their object the instruction of his hearers in the elementary 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 per-
sons 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 eflfects 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.
Blackadder 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
difierent tempers and circumstances 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 reserved 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 faithfiilly to discharge his
official duties, until, with a number more of eminent ministers, 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 Sab-
baths previous 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 consecra-
tion 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 dissatisfaction, was the ratification of the act in ques-
tion. Against it the Dumfries Presbytery protested, as being utterly
at variance with all the previous practices and laws of the church.
But, on other grounds, the act was quite objectionable, as it virtually
condemned as rebellious all the acts of the General Assembly for the
last twenty years. When news of the proceedings of the Presbytery
of Dumfries had reached Edinburgh, the commissioner immediately
despatched a military force to that town, with orders to place the whole
sacred court under arrest. Accordingly, a troop of fifty horse, under
a certain captain Scott, arrived at Dumfries on Monday evening, but
found that several of the ministers, aware of their intentions, had
584: SCOTS WORTHIES
already fled. Among these were the two ministers of Dumfries, Mr.
Campbell and Mr. Henderson. Blackadder had, in their abscence,
been requested by the magistrates to supply their place, and had
actually commenced, when the military arriving, he judged it pru-
dent to desist, not choosing to bring a stranger congregation into dif-
liculties by any rash expression that might escape his own lips. On
Monday, an order was sent round to all the clergy within the bounds,
to present themselves before the commissioner, and march next day
as prisoners to Edinburgh. As this proved rather inconvenient,
Tuesday being appointed for the meeting of presbytery, his lordship
was graciously pleased to postpone the time of their departure till
"Wednesday. Four gentlemen of the guard waited upon them after
dinner for the purpose of ascertaining their minds relative to their
intended journey. The brethren politely offered them wine, and
though the invitation was complied with, yet, fearing a tumult, the
captain requested that next morning by ten o'clock, they would, in
as private a manner as possible, leave the town. They complied
with this request; and, when within half-a-mile of Edinburgh, they
were desired to ride in before the commander, who appears to have
been afraid of popular clamour had he ventured to treat them as
prisoners. With this proposal the ministers appear to have agreed.
Xext day they were brought before the court, and after a few inter-
rogatories, 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 accordingly did on the last Sabbath of October, after taking
farewell of his sorrowing and affectionate people in a pathetic and
energetic discourse.
From Troqueer Blackadder removed to Glencaim, ten miles dis-
tant, in the beginning of October, 1662. As the parish was quite
sequestered, he had great hopes that the persecuting party would
allow him to remain unmolested ; and, accordingly after residing
there for about three months, he resumed his public duties, and in
February, 1663, he ventured back to his old parish, where he visited,
catechised, and lectured privately. The consequence of this was,
that letters of council were directed against him, and about a dozen
of his confederates, namely, Welch, Semple, Arnot, and Peden, for
pei-forming a number of acts connected with the ministerial function.
The consequence was, that he resolved forthwith to depart the coun-
try ;* and, as Edinburgh seemed to offer the likeliest opportunity for
♦ On Saturday, he took his leave of his parishioners to seek a place of safety. Next day,
the soldiers attacked the manse in quest of hinn, and behaved with great insolence to his wife
and young family. One of his sons, then a child, narrates what happened : — " A party of
the king's life-guard of horse, came from Dumfries to Troqueer to search for and apprehend
my father, for what occasion I know not ; whether he stayed beyond the set day for trans-
porting himself and numerous family of small children ten miles from his parish church, or
because he was of the number of those who refused to observe the 29th of May. So soon
as the above party entered (he close, and came into the house, cursing and swearing, we
that were children, were frightened out of our little wits, and ran up stairs, and J among
them ; who, when I heard them all roaring in the room below, had the childish curiosity to
gel down upon my belly, and peep through a hole in the lloor, to see what monsters of
creatures they were ; and it seems they were monsters indeed for cruelty ; for one of them
JOHN BLACKADDER. 585
concealment, he determined to direct bis steps thither, and, accord-
ing!)^, in a short time became a resident, 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. Black-
adder was at that time in Edinburgh, and had it not been for the
unfavorable accounts which he received of the state of the Covenan-
ters' army, would assuredly have joined them on that occasion.
During the murderous executions which followed the engagement,
Blackadder had an opportunity of extending his humanity to his
suifering countrymen in the south. In September, 1668, under the
auspices of a milder administration, Blackadder was invited to preach
and dispense ordinances in various parishes in the west of Scotland.
In Dunlop, he baptized forty-two children in one house ; and in the
manse of iSTewmills, eleven. Similar duties were performed by him
at Eaglesham, — always at night, for fear of discovery. The new
administration was much more liberal than the former, in conse-
quence of which, for more than a year, he was permitted to preach
in Edinburgh. In January, 1669, he received a second and pressing
call to the west, in consequence of which he went to Fenwick, on
January 28, and preached there a public discourse, being the first
which the people of the place had listened to from any of the perse-
cuted ministers, since the battle of Pentland. Here his labours
were so great, and his exertions for the spiritual benefit of the people
so unremitting, that his health sufiered materially. Being advised
by the physicians to try the benefit of the mineral waters at I^ewmills,
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 imprisonment,
and the military were called out to carry into effect the rigorous
enactments of the court. Among the first armed conventicles, as
they were called, was that kept by 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. lie
requested Mr. Dickson, who willingly consented, to assist him on
the occasion.
Exaggerated reports of this conventicle spread over all the
j)erceiving what I was doing, immediately drew his sword, and thurst it up, with all his
force, where I was peeping, so that the mark of the point was scarce an inch from the hole,
though no thanks to the murdering ruffian, who designed to run it up through my eye. Im-
mediately after, we were forced to pack up, bag and baggage, and to remove to Glencairn, ten
miles from Troqueer. We who were children were put into cadgers' creels, where one of
us cried out coming through the Brigend of Dumfries, ' I'm banish't, I'm banish't.' One
happened to ask, ' Who has banish't ye, my bairn V he answered, • Byte-the-sheep (the
Bishop) has banish't me.' "
586 SCOTS WORTHIES.
country. The two 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 concealed
himself in Edinburgh ; but a strict search being instituted, he was
compelled to fly to the Merse, where he remained until the tumult
subsided, when he again showed himself; and, resuming his public
ministrations, he preached at Mordington, and several other par-
ishes. In the spring of 1671, he visited Borrowstounness, and the
neighbourhood. Feeling rather indisposed, he intended to keep
himself private ; but early on Sabbath morning, lady Ililderstone's
house, where he had taken up his residence, was surrounded b}^ vast
crowds of people, who insisted upon his coming out to address them.
For this meeting, lady Ililderstone, her son, and many of the people.
were severely fined. All this, however, could not abate the ardour
of the people from favouring field-preaching. Scarcely three weeks
after the meeting at Hilderstone, Blackadder preached at the Black
Dub at Livingstone. He left Edinburgh early in the morning, and
returned the same evening. His reason for doing this was to
prevent the people from being brought into trouble on his account,
which certainly would have been the case had the rumour gone
abroad that he w^as harbouring among them. Sentence of outlawTy
was this year passed upon him, but this did not discourage him from
still continuing to preach the gospel. Accordingly, we find him,
about the end of summer, addressing a vast assemblage of people
near Lillies-leaf, in Eoxburghshire. In the same year also, he fre-
quently disj^ensed the sacrament of the supper in the open fields.*
The communions principally noted, and most numerously attended,
were four, viz., Kirkcudbright, Irongray, Carrick, and East JSTisbet,
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 Culross, about a mile from Blairhole, the ancient residence of
his ancestors. Afterwards, he was invited to preach at Caitloch,
where he found a large assembly had collected. A short account of
what took place here is given in the life of Mr. Welch. Blackadder
* Multitudes, amidst persecution and contempt, darexl to follow those who went forth tp
the moors and the mountains preaching the everlasting gospel. Fines, imprisonment.
tortures, and death, were each in their turn employed, yet the spirit of the Covenanters
remained unbroken. They took joyfully the spoiling of their goods. They met in the
lone glen, or on the wild moor, by" day and by night, that they might listen to the truth of
God from the lips of those by whom they believed it was best taught. They had their
seasons of communion also ; though their passover was indeed eaten in haste ; for the
watches sat on the neighbouring heights to give the alarm if the persecutors came in
sight. Yet these were times of great refreshing: multitudes were pricked to the heart.
It seemed as if God had touched the lips of the ^linisters with a live coal from his altar.
One who was often at these communions, says, "Though our vows were not offered
within the courts of God's house, they wanted not sincerity of heart, which is better than
the reverence of sanctuaries: we offered up our gratitude, and sung with a joyful voice to
the Rock of our salvation." The melody most frequently used in singing their psalms was
that called " The Martyrs j^^ and in some pai ts of Scotland, this tune has been handed down
by a rude rhyme. —
"This was the tune the martyrs sang,
when they were gaen to dee.
When at the gallows tree they stood,
their God to glorifie."
JOHN BLACKADDER. ^^
Beems to have been employed only in the table services. He was,
however, engaged on the Monday following. On the Sabbath
previous to the meeting at Drumclog, he ventm-ed 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 considerable doubts as to the propriety of the
risings which were on that occasion suppressed. He did not,
however, in the least, shrink from the discharge of his duty, and
immediately after the act of indemnity and indulgence, w^hich per-
mitted conventicles to be held in private houses, he still persevered
in his own practice of preaching publicly in the open air. These
meetings raised a great outcry ; but Blackadder, nothing daunted,
was found next week preaching at lord Torphichen's with greater
boldness than before. The kirk was within hearing, where the
curate was haranguing to sixteen persons. From thence he went to
Borrowstounness, where the meeting was dispersed by the soldiers
from Blackness, and he himself nearly taken. After this, Black-
adder preached at Kirkaldy, Galawater, and Livingstone.
About the end of May, 1680, he resolved on a voyage for Holland,
as his eldest son was about to commence the study of medicine at
Leyden ; and 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,
arrived in Edinbur^ on the very day that Mr. John Dickson was
sent prisoner to the Bass.
We find him in January, 1681, visiting Troqueer, at the request
of his old parishioners, and preaching at a great variety of places, which
it would be too tedious to mention, both on his way thither and on his
return to Edinburgh. He concluded his public labours in East
Lothian about ten days before he was apprehended. The circum-
stances which attended his capture and examination, are as fol-
lows : — On Tuesday 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, desu-e 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
minister, "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 minister calling for a drink, sought a blessing, and
588 SCOTS WORTHIES.
caused give tbem all to drink, and went fortli ; 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 Tliomas on the other, the party following, and
brought him to Dalziel's lodgings, near the foot of the Canongate.
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 perceived by a
strange alteration of his calmness 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 following questions were proposed : — Chan, Are you a minister?
A. I am. Vhan. Where, and how long since? A. At Troqueer, in
Galloway, since 1653. Chan. Did you excommunicate the king ; or
was you at Torwood at that time % A. \ have not been at Torwood
these four years. Chcm. 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 judg-
ment to no man ; therefore, seeing that this is an interrogating 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 re-
peatedly interrogated by the chancellor and advocate, but to no pur-
pose.] Chan. But do you approve of taking the king's life, and con-
demning 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 conscience, or make any dif-
ference betwixt preaching in houses or in the fields. Chan. You
know, and no doubt have seen, the 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 kour.]
On the morning of the second day's examination, he sent his son
Thomas to 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 sometimes, 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 1 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 prisoner that he was to carry him up to the council
at three, and desired him to be ready. When he came to the Par-
liament Close, the captain sent four soldiers to wait on the prisoner
-<^^;
WJ'^-V^^
'SLomh of ^lac6alil)ei:«
JOHN BLACKADDER. 589
in an outer room, till he should be called. He was not called, how-
ever, but sent his son Thomas to inquire what word was concerning
him ; who answered, he believed he was sentenced to the Bass.
This sentence was accordingly carried into execution. On April 7,
1681, Blackadder 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 Haddington
prison, as he might choose. Meanwhile, his distemper, it appears,
had increased, and gave symptoms of fatal termination, 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 blessed John, on yonder rock confined,
His body suffered, 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 enjoyed, and walk'd with God ;
Till, by long living on this heavenly food,
His soul by love grew up too great, too good
To be confined to jail, or flesh and blood.
Death broke his fetters off", then swift he fled
From sin and sorrow ; and, by angels led,
Enterd the mansions of eternal joy ; —
Blest soul, thy warfare's done, praise, love, enjoy !
His dust here rests till Jesus come again, —
Even so, blest Jesus, come. Come, Lord. Amen.
590 SCOTS WORTHIES
JAMES RENWICK.
James Eenwiok was bom in the parish of Glencaim in Kithsdale,
February 15, 1662. His parents, though not rich, were yet exemplary
for piety. His father, Andrew Renwick, a weaver by trade, and his
mother, Elizabeth Oorsan, had several children before James, who
died young; for which, when his mother was giving forcible expres-
sion to her sorrow, her husband used to comfort her with declaring,
that he was well satisfied to have children, whether they lived or
died, young or old, providing they might be heirs of glory. This,
however, did not satisfy her : for in her prayers to Go-d, she entreated
for a child that might not only be an heir of glory, but might live to
serve him in his generation ; whereupon, when James was born, she
took it as an answer of prayer, and regarded herself as lying under
manifold engagements 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
apprehension, about the Maker of all things, how all things were
made, and for what end ; and with strange suppositions of so many
invisible worlds, above and beneath, with which he was transported
into a train of musing, and continued in this exercise for about the
space of two years, until he, by prayer and meditation on the history
of the creation, came to a thorough belief that God made all things,
and that all which he made was very good. And yet after he came
to more maturity, he relapsed to a deeper labyrinth of darkness about
these foundation truths, and was so assaulted with temptations of
atheism, that being in the fields and looking to the mountains, he
said, " If these were all devouring furnaces of burning brimstone, he
would be content to go through them all, if so he could be assured
there was a God." Out of which he emerged, through grace, into
the sweet serenity of a settled persuasion of the being of a God, and
of his interest in him.
From his younger years he was remarkable for obedience to his
parents, whose orders, if they had spoken of putting him to any trade,
he would cheerfully have complied with ; yet his own taste was de-
cidedly literary, until Providence at last saw proper to gratify him,
by raising friends whe were so enamoured of his hopeful disposition,
that they took him to Edinburgh, and earnestly promoted his educa-
tion. When he was ready for the university, they encouraged liiiu
JAMES RENWICK. 591
to engage in teaching the sons of the gentry for mutnal improve-
ment; this kind of society, however, as nsually happens, enticed
him, with others, to spend too much of his time in gaming and recre-
ations. This was the reason that some who knew him not took occa-
sion to reproach him in after years, with profanity and flagitiousness,
which his nature ever abhorred. When his time at the college 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-ordinances for a time.
But upon a deplorable discovery of the unfaithfulness of the gene-
rality 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 increased. And being more confirmed, when he beheld
how signally the faithful ministers were owned of the Lord, and car-
ried off the stage with great steadfastness, faith, and patience, espe-
cially 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, that he determined to embark with these witnesses in
that cause for which they suffered ; and he was afterwards so
strengthened and established in that resolution, getting instructions
about these things in and from the word, so sealed w^ith a strong
hand upon his soul, that all the temptations, tribulations, trials, oppo-
sitions, and contradictions 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 Scrip-
ture and reason, he, in October, 1681, accordingly held a meeting
with some of these faithful witnesses of Christ, and conferred about
the testimonies of some other martyrs lately executed, wdiich he was
very earnest always to gather and keep on record, refreshing them
greatly, by discourse, in which he showed how much he was grieved
and offended with those who heard the curates, pleaded for cess-pay-
ing, 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 en£:ao:ed w'ith 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 serviceable 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 Gallowlee, Renwickwas veiy forward
to promote it; and when those who adhered to the testimony, as
revised by Messrs. Cameron and Cargill, toAvards 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
592 SCOTS WORTHIES.
extremes, and agreed on emitting that declaration published at
Lanark, January 12, 1682, Eenwick was employed proclaiming 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 prin-
ciples 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 sympathy which they could
not obtain from their own countrymen. Tiiis 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, Kenwick,
with some others, went thither. Ilis comrades were ready, and
sailed before, which made him anxious to follow.
When he went over, he was settled at the University of Groningen,
where he plied his studies so hard, and with such success, that, from
the necessities of his friends in Scotland, who were longing for his
labours, and his own ardent desire to be at the work, in a short time
he was ready for ordination. To hasten this, his dear friend Mr.
Robert Hamilton, who merited so much of those who reaped the
benefit of Renwick's labours afterwards, applied to one Mr. Brakel,
a godly Dutch minister, who was much delighted at first with the
motion, and advised it should be done at Embden ; but this could
not be obtained, because the principal man there who was to have
the management of the afiair, was in his judgment Cocceian. Where-
upon, Mr. Hamilton solicited the classes of Groningen to undertake
it ; which they willingly promised to do, and, calling for the testi-
monials of Renwick, and the rest who went over at that time, Ren-
wick'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 ofiended, that, after a solemn consideration of their cause,
they declared it was the Lord's, and cost what it would, though all
the kings of the earth were against it, they would go through with
it. They all three should have passed together, but upon some dis-
content arising, the other two were retarded. It was the custom of
the place, that every one* that passes must pay twenty guilders for
the use of the church ; but the classes jointly declared that they
would be at all the charges themselves.
The next difficulty was, that, being told it was impossible for any
to pass without subscribing their Catechism, and observing that
their forms and corruptions are therein justified, Renwick resolutely
answered, " He would do no such thing, being engaged by a solemn
covenant to the contrary." This was like to spoil all ; but at last
they consented that he subscribe the Confession and Catechism of
I
JAMES RENWICK.
693
the Church of Scotland, — a practice never before heard of in that
land ; which was accepted. On the daj of ordination, Eenwick was
called in a very respectful way. After spending some time in
prayer, the examination began, which lasted from ten in the morn-
ing 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 witness to the laying on of the hands ; which, after
the exhortation, they performed with prayer, the whole meetino-
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 Eenwick ; 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 difiiculties 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 ordina-
tion must be stopped ; but this being too late as to Renwick, it came
to nothing at last.
After his ordination, he was very desirous 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 profane 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 harbour 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 gaining and gospel-way, that he
left convictions on their spirits of his being a pious and zealous
youth, which induced them to assist him in procuring a speedy
passage to Scotland. In this passage he had considerable dangers,
and a prospect of more, as not knowing how or w^here he should
come to land, all ports being then so strictly observed, and the
skipper refusing to let him go till his name was given up. But yet
at last he was prevailed on to give him a cast to the shore, where he
began his weary and uncertain wanderings — which continued with
him till he was apprehended — through an unknown wilderness,
amongst unknown people, it being some time before he could meet
with any of the societies.
In September, 1683, he commenced his ministerial work in Scot-
land, taking up the testimony of the standard of Christ where it was
38
594 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 perse-
cuted people, who had lost all their worldly means of enjoyment, for
the sake of the gospel. His first public meeting was in a moss at
Darmead, where, for their information and his own vindication, he
thought it expedient not only to let them know how he was called to the
ministry, and what he adhered to, but also to unbosom himself
about tiie perplexing questions of the time, particularly concerning
ministers' defections, showing whom he could not join with, and his
reasons for so doing ; and, in the end, told them on what grounds he
stood.
After this, many other attempts were made, not only by thu
profane, but even by many professors ; some saying, he had excom-
municated all the ministers in Scotland, 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 professed witness
against all the defections of Presbyterians from any j)art of their
covenanted work of reformation. Again, other ministers alleged 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 jN^ewcastle and Northumberland, they were as much
oflfended as any at his faithful freedom in discovering the evil of
their way, and declared that they had never met with such severe
dealing from any Presbyterian before 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, refuted by the foregoing relation.
On the other hand, some gave out that he and his followers
maintained the murdering principles and the delirious and detesta-
ble blasphemies of Gibb ; all which shameless and senseless fictions
he ever opposed and abhorred. Yea, some ministers, more seeming-
ly 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 tlie 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 Jambres, 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 countr
concerning him, attracted the notice of the council ; and, bein^
enraged at the report of his preaching in the fields, they raised
hotter and more cruel persecution against him than had ever beei
the case before respecting any one man in the nation. For, haVin*^
publicly proclaimed him a traitor and rebel, they proceeded U
pursue his followers with all the rigour that hellish fury and malic(
JAMES RENWICK. 595
could suggest or invent ; and yet the more they opposed, the more
they gre^ 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 in-
truded upon other men's labours ; alleging, that when another minis-
ter had engaged to preach in a place, he unexpectedly 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, with-
out knowing 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 information, the soldiers be-
came 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, seeing 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 hollow place into which he crept ; and
committing 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,
" Depart 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 and down the hill, yet were
restrained from looking into that place where he was. Many such
sore and desperate chases he and those with him met ; some con-
tinuing 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
sufferers were reduced to incredible straits, not only in being mur-
dered, but also from hunger, cold, harassings, &c. ; in which per-
plexity, being neither able to flee, nor fight, they were forced to
publish an apologetical representation of the approved principles and
practices, and covenant-engagements of our Keformers, and to en-
596 SCOTS WORTHIES.
force and reduce to practice that privilege of extraordinary executing
of judgment, on the murderinc: beasts of prey, who made a daily
trade of destroying innocents. "When this declaration was first pro-
posed, Renwick was somewhat averse to it, fearing the sad effects it
might produce; but, considering 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, iN'ovember 8, 1684.
After the publication of this declaration, rage and reproach seemed
to strive which should show the greatest violence against the publish-
ers and owners of it. The council published a proclamation for dis-
covering such as own, or will not disown it; requiring that none
above the age of sixteen travel without a pass, and that any who
would apprehend any of then! should have 500 merks for each per-
son ; and that every one should take the oath of abjuration ; whereby
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 sufiTered justly or not. All
which disastrous eftects Eenwick, with a sad and troubled heart, ob-
served, 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 those poor wandering mountain-men — as they were called — and
when they had spent all their balls, they were nothing nearer their
purpose than when they began ; for the more they were afilicted, the
more they grew. " The bush did bum, but was not consumed, be-
cause the Lord was in the bush."
Charles II. being dead, and the duke of York, a professed Papist,
proclaimed in February, 1685, Eenwick could not let go this oppor-
tunity 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, afterwards 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 laudable 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 in-<
dulged. '
In 1686, Renwick was constrained to be more public and explicit
in bis testimony against the designs and defections of the time ;
wherein he met with more contradictions and oppositions from all
hands, and more discouraging and distracting treatment, even frorr
some who once followed him : and was much troubled with letters oi
accusation against him from many hands. One of the ministers that
JAMES RENWICK. 597
came over with Argyle wrote a very vindictive letter against liim :
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 Eobert Cath-
cart, in Carrick, who wrote a scurrilous libel against him, from which
Renwick vindicated himself in the plainest terms. But this not satis-
fying the said Robert Cathcart, he did, in the name of his friends in
Carrick, and the shire of Wigton, though without the knowledge of
the half of them, take a protest against Ren wick's preaching or con-
versing within thpjr jurisdiction ; giving him occasion, with David,
to complain, " They speak with vanity, their heart gathereth ini-
quity ; yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, hath lifted
up his heel against me.''
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 opposi-
tion against Renwick ; which not only contributed to grieve him
much, but was also an occasion of stumbling to many* others of
the well-affected, and to the confirmation of his opponents. JSTever-
theless, he continued to traverse the country, preaching, catechising,
and baptizing ; travelling through Galloway, where he had to en-
counter a most insolent protestation given in against him, by the
professors 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 sermon from Song ii., 2., informing
the people what was done in their name, making several animadver-
sions thereon, as having a tendency to overturn several pieces of our
valuable Reformation ; exhorting them, if there were any who con-
curred 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 difficulties multiplying, his labours were diminished by the
help of Mr. David Houston from Ireland, and Mr. Alexander
Shields, which w^as 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 well
known how far he travelled both in Scotland and England, to meet
with ministers for a coalescence, which they superciliously 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 re-
spected gentlewoman's house, where providentially Dr. Rule came to
visit, Renwick, in another room, overheard him forbidding 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
* Mr. Peden on his deathbed sent for him, and, after some conference, owned that he
had been misinformed anent him ; exhorting him to go forward, and he would be earned
honestly through; asking his forgiveness, and desiring him to pray with him before he de-
parted ; all which Renwick did with great cheerfulness.
598 SCOTS WORTHIES.
the same person was in the house, and that he wished to converse
with him on that head ; but this he refused.
After this, one informed apiinst him to the ministers in Holland,
who returned back with Mr. 13rakel's advice to Ren wick and others •,
but as it relished of a gospel S])irit, not like that of his informers, it
Avas noway offensive to him. Mr. Roelman, another 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, February 12, tolerating the
moderate Presbyterians 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 proclamation 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 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 proclamation, 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, Pen wick found it his duty not only to declare against
the granters, but also against the accepters of this toleration ; warn-
ing 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 Scotland 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 fulfilling his ministry, and
finishing his testimony, 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 meantime, the persecution against him was so furious, that
in less than five months after the toleration, fifteen most desperate
searches were made for him. To encourage which, a proclamation
was made, October 18, offering a reward of £100 sterling to any one
who would bring in the persons of him and some others, either dead
or alive.
In the beginning of 1688, being now approaching the limits of his
course, he ran very fast, and wrought very hard, both as a Christian
JAMES RENWICK. 599
and as a minister. Having for some time had a design to emit some-
thing bj way of testimony against both the granters and accepters of
the toleration that might afterwards stand on record, he went towards
Edinburgh ; and on his way, at Peebles, very narrowly escaped being
apprehended. While at Edinburgh he was uneasy till he got that
delivered, which, with the concurrence of some others, he had drawn
up in form ; and, upon inquiry, hearing 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
protestation into his hands ; and then, for several reasons, emitted it
in public as his testimony against the toleration.
From thence he went to Fife, and preached several Sabbaths, and,
upon the 29th of January, delivered his last sermon at Borrow-
stounness. Then he returned to Edinburgh, and lodged in a friend's
house in the Castlehill^ who dealt in uncustomed goods ; and want-
ing his former circumspection — his time being come — one John Jus-
tice, a w^aiter, discovered the house that very night ; and hearing
him praying in the family, suspected who it was, attacked the house
next morning, February 1, and, pretending to search for smuggled
foods, they got entrance ; and when Renwick came to the door, Mr.
ustice challenged him in these words, " My life for it, this is Mr.
Henwick !" After which he went to the street, crying for assistance
to carry the dog Renwick to the guard.
In the meantime, Renwick and other two friends essayed to make
their escape at another door, but were repelled by the waiters. On
this he discharged a pistol,-which made the assailants give way ; but
as he passed through them, one with a long staff hit him on the
breast, which doubtless disabled him from running. Going down
the Castle-wynd, towards the head of the Cov/gate, 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 Ren-
wick that the nation hath been so much troubled with ?" At the
same time, one bailie Charters coming in, with great insolence
accused him of licentious practices, which he replied to with deserv-
ed disdain. Then he was carried before a quorum of the council ;
and when Graham delivered him off his hand, he was heard to say,
'* Xow, 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 thank-
fully 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 authority of James YIT., the cess, and
carrying arms at field-meetings, and delivered himself with such
600 SCOTS WORTHIES.
freedom and boldness as astonished all present. The reason why he
was interro<i:ated 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
tliese names, partly to avoid torture, and knowing they could render
the persons no more obnoxious, he ingenuously declared the truth of
the matter, which ingenuity did much allay their rage against him ;
and being asked by the Chancellor, What persuasion he was of?
He answered, Of the Protestant Presbyterian persuasion. Again,
How it came to pass he differed so much from other Presbyterians,
who had accepted of the toleration, and owned the king's authority ?
and what he thought of them ? He answered. He was a Presbyte-
rian, and adhered to the old Presbyterian principles, principles
which all were obliged by the covenant to maintain, 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 applauded. 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. How-
ever, on February 3, he received his indictment upon the three
foresaid heads, viz., disowning the king's authority, the unlawfulness
of paying the cess, and the lawfulness of defensive arms. All which
he was to answer 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 Sabbath, 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 fiinch one hair-breadth from the
testimony, but would look on himself as obliged to use the same
freedom and faithfulness as he had done before. And in a letter, on
February 6, he desired that the persons whose names were decipher-
ed 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 coronation hour." Another time, his
mother asked him how he was ; he answered, he was well ; but that
since his last examination he could scarcely pray. At which she
looked on him with an affrighted countenance, and he told her, he
could hardly pray, being so taken up with praising, and ravished
with the joy of the Lord. When his mother was expressing her
fear of fainting, saying, '' How shall I look upon that head and those
hands set up among the rest on the port of the city ?" He smiled,
telling her, she should not see that ; for, said he, I have offered my
life unto the Lord, and have sought that he may bind them up ;
and I am persuaded that they shall not be permitted to torture my
body, nor touch one hair of my head farther. He was at fii'st much
JAMES RENWICK. gQJ
afraid of the tortures ; but now, having obtained a persuasion that
these were not to be his trials, through grace he was helped to saj,
^' That the teiTor of them was so removed, that he would rather
choose to be cast into a caldron of boiling oil, than do anything that
might wrong truth." When some other friends were permitted to
see him, he exhorted them to make sure their peace with God and
to study steadfastness in His ways ; and when they regretted their
loss of him, he said, " They had more need to thank the Lord, that
he should now be taken away from these reproaches,* which had
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 adhered
to his former confession, and acknowledged all that was in the libel?
He answered, " 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 YII. to be his
lawful sovereign ? He answered, " I own all authority that hath its
prescriptions and limitations from the word of God ; but cannot own
this usurper as lawful king, seeing, both by the word of God such an
one is incapable to bear rule, and likewise by the ancient laws of the
kingdom, which admit none to the crown of Scotland, until he swear
to defend the Protestant religion ; which a man of his profession
could not do." They urged. Could he deny him to be king ? Was
he not the late king's brother? Had the late king any children
lawfully begotten ? Was he not declared to be his successor by act
of parliament ? He answered, " He was no doubt king de facto^
but not de jure i that he was brother to the other king, he knew
nothing to the contrary ; what children the other had he knew not :
but from the word of God, that ought to be the rule of all laws, or
from the ancient laws of the kingdom, it could not be shown that he
had, or ever could have any right." The next question was. If he
owned, and had taught it to be unlawful to pay cesses and taxations
to his majesty ? 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 maintenance of tyranny, and
because it is imposed for suppressing the gospel. Would it have
been thought lawful for the Jews, in the days of ITebuchadnezzar, to
have brought every one a coal to augment the flame of the furnace
to devour the three children, if so they had been required by that
tyrant ?"
]S'ext 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 reli-
gion both to do otherwise : you yourselves would do it in the like
circumstances. I own that I taught them to carry arms to defend
* For, besides these reproaches already noticed, with many others, he and his followers
were charged as men of anarchical, murdering, and bloody principles, which makes it the
less wonder that their successors should be charged with the same.
QQ2 SCOTS WORTHIES.
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 subscribe the paper as it
is my testimony, but not in obedience to you."
Then the assizers were called in by fives,* and sworn ; against
whom he objected nothing; but protested, " That none might sit on
his assize that professed Protestant or Presbyterian principles, or an
adherence to the covenanted work of Reformation." He was brought
in guilty, and sentence passed. That he should be executed in the
Grassmarket, on the Friday following. Lord Linlithgow, justice-
general, asked, if he desired longer time ! He answered, " It was
all one to him ; if it was protracted, it was welcome ; if it was short-
ened, it was welcome ; his Master's time was the best." Then he
was returned to prison. "Without his knowledge, and against his
will, yea, after open refusing to the advocate to desire it, he was re-
prieved to the 17th day, which gave occasion to severals to renew
their reproaches.
Though none who sufi'ered in the former part of this dismal period
spoke with more fortitude, freedom, and boldness than Renwick, 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 in-
terruption, even though he gave none of them the title of lord except
Linlithgow, who was a nobleman by birth. And though his friends
— rwhich 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 principles ; but these are
tniths which I suffer for, and which I have not rashly concluded on,
but deliberately, and of a long time have been confirmed, that they
are sufiicient points to suifer 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
♦ 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 Sommerville, chamber-
lain 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 Ninewells;
John Martin, clerk to the manufactory ; Alexander Martin, some time clerk of — ; Robert
Halyburton, merchant ; Thomas Lawrie, merchant ; Archibald Johnston, merchant; Tho-
mas Wy lie. merchant ; James Hamilton, vintner ; William Cockburn, merchant; James
Hamilton, jun., stationer ; Robert Currie, stationer ; Joseph Young, merchant ; John Cuu-
ningham, merchant in Glasgow ; Ninian Bannantiue of Kaims, Chancellor.
JAMES RENWICK. gQ3
lad." Again, the night before he suffered, he sent to him, to signify
his readiness to serve him to the utmost of his power. Renwick
thanked him for his courtesy, but knew nothing he could do, or that
he could desire.
Mr. M'Kaught, one of the curates, made him a visit in his canon-
ical 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. Dai-
ry mple, the king's advocate, came also to visit him, and declared
that he was sorry for his death, and that it should fall out in his
short time. Several popish priests and gentlemen of the guard, w^ith
some of the tolerated ministers, were permitted to converse with
him. The priest, at leaving him, was overheard saying, he was a
most obstinate heretic ; for he had used such freedoni 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 several hands, of the most
favourable strain that could be invented, and sent him to subscribe,
but all in vain ; yea, it was offered 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 w^as 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 informatory vindication ; but what passed there can-
not be learned, farther than their signifying how^ much kindness they
had shown him, in that they had reprieved him without his applica-
tion, a thing never done before. He answ^ered with extraordinary
cheerfulness, rejoicing that he was counted w^orthy to suffer shame
for the name of his Master. A friend asking him. How he was ? he
said, Yery well ; and he would be better within three days. He
told his mother. That the last execution he was witness 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 suf-
fering at this time ; and that he was persuaded his death would do
more good than his life for many years could have done. Being
asked. What he thought God would do with the remnant behind
him ? he answered, It would be well with them ; for God would not
forsake nor cast off his inheritance.
On the day of his execution, the chief jailor begged that, at the
place of execution, he would not mention the causes of his death, and
Avould 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
t at petition w4iich he offered him. He answered, That he never
read in Scripture, or in history, where martyrs petitioned for their
lives, when called to suffer for truth, thouo^h they might require them
not to take their life, and remonstrate the wickedness of murdering
604: SCOTS WORTHIES.
them ; but In the present circumstance he judged it would be found
a receding from truth, and a declining from a testimony for Christ.
His mother and sisters having obtained leave to see him, after
some refreshment, in returning thanks, he said, " O Lord, thou hast
brought me within two hours of eternity, and this is no matter of
terror to me, niore 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 scaiFold. 0 ! how
can I contain this, to be within two hours of the crown of glory !" He
exhorted them much to prepare for death ; " For it is," said he, " the
king of terrors, tliough 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 suffering and of death could be so
taken from me? But what shall I say to it? It is the doing of the
Lord, and marvellous in our eyes. I have many times counted the
cost of following Christ, but never thought it would be so easy ; and
now who knows the honour and happiness of that, ' He that confess-
eth me before men, him will I confess before the Father V " He
said many times, " Now I am near the end of time, I desire to bless
the Lord ; it is an inexpressibly sweet and satisfying peace to me
that he hath kept me from complying with enemies in the least."
Perceiving his mother weep, he exhorted her to remember, that they
who loved anything better than Christ, were not worthy of him.
" If ye love me, rejoice that I am going to my Father, to obtain the
enjoyment of what eye hath not seen," &c. Then he went to prayer,
wherein he ran out much in praise, and pleaded much in behalf of
the suffering remnant ; that the Lord would raise up witnesses that
might transmit the testimony to succeeding generations, and tliat the
Lord would not leave Scotland ; asserting, 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 the guard, he fell into a
transport, saying, " Yonder the welcome warning to my marriage ;
the bridegroom is coming ; I am ready, I am rea^y." Then taking
his leave of his mother and sisters, he entreated them not to be dis-
couraged ; for, ere all were done, they should see matter of praise in
that day's work. He was taken to the low council-house, as was
usual, where, after his sentence was read, they desired him to speak
what he had to say there. He said, " I have nothing to say to yon,
but that which is written in Jer. xxvi. 14, 15, ' As for me, behold, I
am in your hand,'" &q. He was told that the drums would beat at
the scaffold all the time, and, therefore they desired him to pray
there ; but he refused, and declared he would not be limited in what
he would say, and that he had premeditated nothing, but would spBak
what was given him. They offered him any minister to be with him ,
but he answered, " If I would have had any of them for my counsel-
lors or comforters, I should not have been here this day. I require
none with me but this one man" — meaning the friend that was wait-
ing upon him.
JAMES RENWICK. 605
He went from thence to the scaffold with great cheerfulness, as one
in a transport of triumphant joy, and had the greatest crowd of spec-
tators that has perhaps been seen at any execution ; but little was
heard, on account of the beating of the drums all the time without
intermission, from his first ascending the scaffold until he was cast
over. Yet, from the friends and others permitted to attend him, there
were some of his last words collected.
When he went first unto the scaffold, some forbade him to speak
anything ; because the people could not hear ; which he took no
notice of. There was a curate standing at the side of the scaffold,
who, tempting him, said, " Own our king, and we shall pray for you."
He answered, " I 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 jou ; 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, commend-
ing his soul to God through the Eedeemer, and his cause to be vin-
dicated 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
privileged with, being incapable of laying down their lives for their
princely Master. He complained of being disturbed in w^orshipping
God : but, said he, '' I shall be above these clouds ; then shall I en-
joy thee, and glorify thee, without interruption, or intermission, for
ever."
Here they made him desist, and go up the ladder, where he prayed,
and said, " Lord, I die in the faith that thou wilt not leave Scotland,
but that thou wilt make the blood of thy witnesses the seed of thy
church, and return again and be glorious in our land. And now.
Lord, I am ready ; the bride, the Lamb's wife, hath made herself
ready." The napkin being tied about his face, he said to his friend
attending, " Farewell ; be diligent in duty, make your peace with
God through Christ. There is a great trial coming. As to the
remnant I leave, I have committed them to God. Tell them from me
not to weary nor be discouraged in maintaining the testimony, and
the Lord will provide you teachers and ministers ; and when he
comes, he will make these despised truths glorious in the earth." He
was turned over, with these words in his mouth, " Lord, into thy
hands I commend my spirit, for thou hast redeemed me, Lord God
of truth."
Thus died the faithful, pious, and zealous Ren wick, on the third
day over the 26th year of his age, a young man, and a young minis-
ter, but a ripe Christian, and renowned martyr of Christ, for whose
sake he loved not his life unto the death, by whose blood, and the
word of his testimony, he overcame, and thus got above all snares and
sorrow, and, to the conviction of many that formerly reproached him.
606 RISING AT PENTLAND.
was as signally vindicated of, as he was in his life sharaefullj reproached
with, all the aspei^sions, obloquies, and calumnies, that were cast upon
him for prosecuting that testimony for truth, which now he sealed
with his blood, in such a treasure of patience, meekness, Immility,
constancy, courage, burning love, and blazing zeal, as did very much
confound enemies, convince neutrals, confirm halters, comfort friends,
and astonish all.
He was of stature somewhat low, of a fair complexion, and, like
another young David, of a ruddy and beautiful countenance. 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
generall}^ 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 principles 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 perti-
naciously 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." He was the last that on a scaffold sealed his testimony
for religion, liberty, and the covenanted work of Reformation in
Scotland.
ACCOUNT OF THE RISING WHICH El^^DED HT 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 wxre quartered. It
was early in the forenoon ; 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 grid-
iron, 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,
RISING AT PENTLAND. 607
""Wliy do ye bind the old man ?" Thej answered, " How dare you
challenge ?" Some of the company offering to loose him, the sol-
diers drew on them with their swords ; and one of Barscobe's com-
pany 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 themselves 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 countiy, that all who were ready
should come in companies to Irongray kirk, on Wednesday night,
that they might enter Dumfries by daybreak. Ere they could mus-
ter, the sun was up ; and it was ten o'clock before they got to Dum-
fries. They approached without 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 fight-
ing, and about two hundred foot. Marshalled in order, they came to
the Bridgend of Dumfries, their commander riding before. The
horse marched into the town ; the foot stayed without. Corsack
and Bobinson, 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 was in bed ; but hearing a noise of horse,
he came running on the alarm, to the window, in his night-gown.
Seeing Corsack, with others, he cries, " Quarters, gentleman ; for
Christ's sake, quarters : there shall be no resistance." Whereupon
Corsack, a meek and generous gentleman, cried to him, " If you
conte down to us, and make no resistance, on the word of a gentle-
man you shall have quarters." While they were speaking, the com-
mander comes up, and seizing Turner, presented a pistol, or cara-
bine, to have shot him ; but Corsack interfered, saying, '' You shall
as soon kill me ; for I have given him quarters." So he forbore.
A party was sent up to search his rooms, and bring down his
papers and trunks, which were much emptied, he having before sent
the money he had exacted in oppression, to Glasgow^, as I heard say,
in some loads. They brought himself down stairs in his night-gown,
night-cap, drawers, and socks, and set him on a little beast bare-
backed, 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 sol-
diers, one of whom only was killed. Then they carried him through
the town, out at the Kether-port, and a space down the river, to a
green, by ISCithside, over against the kirk of Troqueer, he being all
along in a great panic, expecting they were going to hang him up
with great solemnit}^ After a little consultation, they returned with
him in the same posture to his quarters, and bade him to make
ready to go with them. They warned all the inhabitants to bring
608 RISING AT PENTLAND,
the arms they had to the cross, and there they were dealt out among
the foot. In the afternoon, they marched him and other prisonei^s
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 Glencairn, where most of them
Kei)t guard, and sent some from them to advertise some in the west
country of what was done there, that they must be in readiness at
their coming up. However, they were in great perplexity, getting
so little increase to their company, by reason the country could not
be ready, being so surprised. After they had met with some out of
a few parishes in the west, they came to the town of Lanark, where
it is said, they must have been near 2,000, the greatest they had,
and there they solemnly renewed the Covenant, 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 mr (about
twenty miles), many wandered and fell off. When they came to
Bathgate, there had been a company of gentlemen met, who, upon
hearing their approach, fled hard into Linlithgow, alarming them
with great fear. On the morrow, being Thursday, they marched
toward Collington, where they kept guard, and quartered some
places thereabout. 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 Edinburgh.
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 Nitbsdale, and
came the length of Pentland hills, five or six miles from Edinburgh,
where they drew up to refresh themselves a little. This meantime, a
party of the Life Guards being commanded off Dalziel's army
appeared among the hills about eleven o'clock of the day, against
which the countrymen commanded forth a party of their horse,
which encountering 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. Dal-
ziel'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
RISINCx AT TENTLAND.
609
following. The countrymen had resoUed to draw forth their men
both on the right and left wing ; but only those on the left had
engaged with the enemy, and did again give them enough to do on
that hand, but were not so readily seconded by those on the right
hand. Being thronged and overpowered with multitudes, they were
forced to wheel and run, the enemy having broken their right wing
ere they were back ; so they all fled. About forty-five of the coun-
trymen were killed on the place, and about one hundred 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 tol-
booth. The rest were shut within the west end of St. Giles's kirk,
called Haddock's Hold ; where many, being wounded, died of their
wounds. Strong guards of the townsmen were appointed to watch
that place every night. However, by some honest woman's careful-
ness, 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 sufiered, with their excellent speeches, I refer to that
book called I^aphtali ; which particularlj^ sets down their names. I
shall only notice that it was greatly wondered, that such a poor in-
considerable 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, attend-
ants of noblemen and gentlemen in the country, all well armed with
all manner of furniture, for war offensive and defensive ; and yet, not
only in the morning, but twice in the afternoon, they both faced them
and resolutely fought, till they were able to do no more, being op-
pressed with multitudes. It is not known what number of Dalziel's
men fell that day ; but those who stood on the hill, when the second
party charged the enemy, and chased them into the body, — some
honest men, I say, who stood among the rest and saw it, affirm, they
saw many empty horses run into the body of Dalziel's army.
All this time Turner remained in their hands, and was conducted
along with them, under an escort of sixteen horsemen, 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 afterwards attempted, but could not accomplish. It is also to be
noted, that that people was little given to revenge ; that, though they
liad 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
39
610 BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.
took Lim prisoner, and gave him fair quarters wherever they tra
veiled.
Account of the lilslng which originated the Battle of Drumclog^ and
ended in the defeat at Bothwell-lridge. Anno 1679.
From what has been already related in this work, we may easily
fV>rm a judgment of the dismal state of the nation on account of the
arbitrary proceedings of those who had the management of affairs,
and the causeless severities which many innocent people endured.
The rigorous and military execution of the sanguinary laws, now in
force, could not but exasperate those who were by this means robbed
of their liberty and property, and of everything that was dear and
valuable, especially as oppressions of every kind were still increasing.
All legal methods of address 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 con-
tinue in misery, if they could by any lawful justifiable method, extri-
cate 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 ; but the divisions occasioned by the un-
happy 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
beinfj considerably augmented, Mr. Kobert 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, notwithstanding all the dangers to which they might
be exposed, and to publish to the world their testimony to the truth
and cause which they owned, and against the sins and defections of
the times. In consequence of this resolution, the said Mr. Hamilton,
together with Mr. Thomas Douglas, one of the preachers, and about
eighty armed men, were pitched upon to go to some public place to
publish their declaration, and burn the papers mentioned in it. They
judged that the 29th of May was the most proper time for putting
BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG. 611
this into execution. 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 prac-
tice, and affixed a copy of their Declaration to the market-cross.
When this Declaration was published, Mr. Hamilton and the rest
retired from Rutherglen towards Evandale and Newmills. This
affair made a great noise both at Glasgow and Edinburgh. Graham
of Claverhouse (afterwards Viscount of 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 w^ere not in arms, nor had anything laid to their charge. They
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 Hamilton
on Sabbath m.orning the first of June, 16Y9, and carried his prisoners
with him, bound two and two, his men driving them before them
like so many sheep. Public w^orship was begun by Mr. Douglas
when they were informed of Claverhouse'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
Drumclog, 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. f
The Battle of 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. We were far from the tumult of cities, — the long dark
heath waved around us ; and we disturbed no living creatures, saving
the pees-weep (tee-wit or lapwing,) and the heathercock. As usual,
we had come armed. It was for self-defence. For desperate and
ferocious bands made bloody raids through the country, and,
pretending to put down treason, they waged war against religion
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
* Kindled on occasion of the Anniversary observed on that day, in honour of the Restor-
ation.
t To preserve our narrative unbroken vi'e here introduce the well known and highly
graphic account of the Battle of Drumclog— and also the Battle of Bothwell Bridge, at p.
706, — 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 presenting an inter-
esting picture of the eventful scenes, by which we may be aided in forming a right
estimate of the characters which they brought into play.
gl2 BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.
eouls were on fire at the remembrance of onr 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. 'I have done,'
said Douglas, with his usual firmness. — You have got the theory, —
now for the practice ; you know your duty ; self-defence is always
lawfiil. But the enemy approaches.' He raised his e3^es to heaven
and uttered a prayer — brief and emphatic — like the prayer of
Eichard Cameron, 'Lord, spare the green, and take the ripe.'
" The officers collected their men, and placed themselves each at
the head of those of his own district. Sir Eobert 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 feeling and of 8ufi*ering.
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 opposite 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 Th^ 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. ' And these,' I said, as Clavers and his troops winded
slowly down the dark mountain's side, ' these are the unworthy
slaves, and bloody executioners, by which the tyrant completes our
miseries.'
" Hamilton here displayed the hero. His portly figure was seen
hastening from rank to rank. He inspired courage into our raw and
undisciplined troops. The brave Hackston, and Hall of Haugh-head,
stood at the head of the foot soldiers, and re-echoed the sentiments
of their chief. Burley and Cleland 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 conquer or fall.
' " The trumpet of Clavers sounded a loud note of defiance — the
kettle-drum mixed its tumultuous roll — they halted — ^they made a
long pause. "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
BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG. ^^3
had been taken prisoner by Clavers at Hamilton. 'Let them be
shot through the head,' said Clavers, in his nsnal dry way, ' if they
should offer to run away.' We could see him view our position with
great care. His officers came around him. We soon learned that
he wished to treat with us. He never betrayed symptoms of mercy
or of justice, nor offered terms of reconciliation, unless when he
dreaded that he had met his match ; and even then, it was only a
manoeuvre to gain time, or to deceive. His flag approached the
edge of the bog. Sir Robert held a flag sacred ; had it been borne
by Clavers himself, he had honoured it. He demanded the purpose
for which he came. 'I come,' said he, 'in the name of his sacred
majesty, and of colonel Grahame, to offer you a pardon, on condition
that you lay down your arms, and deliver up your ringleaders.' —
' 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 government against whom we have risen, refuses to redress our
grievances, or to restore to us our liberties. Had the tyrant wished
to render us justice, he had not sent by the hands of such a ferocious
assassin as Claverhouse. Let him, however, show his powers, and
we refuse not to treat ; and we shall lay down our arms to treat,
provided that he also lay down his. Thou hast my answer. — 'It
is a perfectly hopeless case,' said Burley, while he called after
the flag-bearer — 'Let me add one word by your leave. General.
Get thee up to that bloody dragoon, Clavers, and tell him that we
will spare his life, and the lives of his troops, on condition that 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 religion and the liberties of his country.' A
loud burst of applause re-echoed from the ranks ; and, after a long
pause in deep silence, the army sung the following verses of a psalm :
' There, arrows of the bow he brake ;
the shield, the sword, the war,
More glorious thou than hills of prey,
more excellent art far.
Those that were stout of heart are spoil'd,
they slept their sleep outright;
And none of those their hands did find
that were the men of might.'
" When the report was made to Claverhouse, he gave the word
with a savage ferocity, ' their blood be on their own heads. Be ]^o
quarters the word ' this day.' His fierce dragoons raised a yell, and
' JS^o quarters ' re-echoed from rank to rank, while they galloped
down the mountain's side. It is stated that Burley was heard to say,
^ Then be it so — even let there be J^o quarters — at least on my wing
of the host. So God send me a meeting,' cried he aloud, ' with that
chief under the white plume. My country would bless my memory,
could my sword give his villanous carcass to the crows.'
" Our raw troops beheld with firmness the approach of the
foemen ; and at the moment when the enemy halted to fire, the
614 BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.
whole of our foot dropped on the heath. !N"ot 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 resembled one blazing sheet of flame, for several minutes, along
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
aiid our country is our word.' Our officers fiew from rank to rank.
Not a peasant gave way that day. As the smoke rolled ofi*, 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 nlled
up. A galled trooper would occasionally flinch ; but ere he could
tuni 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 contradict his own orders, and strike the
man, because he could not comprehend his meaning.
" He ordered flanking parties to take us on our right and left.
* In the name of God,' cried he, ' cross the bog, and charge them on
the flanks, till we get over this morass. If this fail, we are lost.'
"It now fell to my lot to come into action. Hitherto we had
fired only some distant shot. A gallant officer led his band down to
the borders of the swamp, in search of a proper place to cross.
"We threw ourselves before him. A severe firing commenced. My
gallant men fired with great steadiness. We could see many tum-
bling from their saddles. Not content with repelling the foemen,
we found our opportunity to cross, and attack them sword in hand.
The captain, whose name I afterwards ascertained to be Arrol, threw
himself 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
Bword 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 sweeping blows, which are rather the dictate of a kind of
instinct of self-defence than a movement of art. As our strokes
redoubled, 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
BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG. gl5
pushed him backward ; and with an entangled blow of my FeiTara,
I struck him across his throat. It cut only the strap of "^his head-
piece, and it fell off. With a sudden 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
flanking party, to look after their commander. One of them was
actually rushing on my antagonist, when I called him to retire."^
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 captured by a Whigamore. No quarter is the word of my
Colonel, and my word. Have at thee, Whig — I dare the whole of
you to the combat.' ' Leave the madman to me — leave the field
instantly,' said I to my party, whom I could hardly restrain. My
sword fell on his right shoulder. His sword dropped from his hand. I
lowered my sword, and offered him his life. ' No quarter^'' said he,
with a shriek of despair. He snatched his sword, which I held in
my hand, and made a lounge at my breast. I parried his blows till
he was nearly exhausted ; but gathering up his huge limbs, he put
forth all his energy in a thrust at my heart. My Andro Ferrara
received it, so as to weaken its deadily 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 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 quench-
ed 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, w^ho never lost
sight of me, raised me up. — In the fierce combat, the soldier suffers
most from thirst. I stooped down, to fill my helmet w^th the water
which oozed through the morass. It was deeply tinged with human
blood, which flowed in tlie conflict above me. I started back with
horror; and Gawn Witherspoon bringing up my steed, we set
forwai'd 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 company sent to flank
them. These officers permitted them to cross the swamp, then
charged them with a terrible shout. ' No quarter^ cried the dra-
goons. ' 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.
* It was on this occasion that the Laird used these words—" Bauldy Allison ! let your
officer settle this trifle— I never take odds to combat a foe, be he even a life-guard."
Ql^ BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.
" 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 gallant Captain Nisbet, and
his guide, 'Woodburn 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 mai-sh. The men followed as they could. They formed, and
marched on the enemy's right flank.
" At this instant Hamilton and Hackstone brought forward the
whole line of infantry in front. ' God and our Country,'^ re-echoed
from all the ranks. 'iVb quarters,'' said the fierce squadrons of
Clavers. Here commenced a bloody scene.
" I seized the opportunity this moment oifei'ed 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 tyrann^^ had bound on the arms of
the men. The weapons of the fallen foe supplied what was lacking
of arms ; and with great vigour we moved forward to charge the
enemy on the left flank. Claverhouse formed a hollow square —
himself in the centre ; his men fought gallantly ; they did all that
soldiers could do in their situation. Wherever a gap was made
Clavers thrust the men forward, and speedil}^ filled it up. Three
times he rolled headlong on the heath, as he hastened from rank to
rank, and as often he remounted. My little band thinned his ranks.
He paid ns a visit. Here I distinctly saw the features and shape of
this far-famed man. He w^as small of stature, and not well formed ;
his arms were long in proportion to his legs ; he had a complexion
unusually dark ; his features w^ere not lighted up with sprightliness,
as some fabulously reported ; they seemed gloomy as hell ; his
cheeks were lank and deeply furrowed ; his eye-brows were drawn
down, and gathered into a kind of knot at their junctions, and thrown
up at their extremities ; they had, in short, the strong expression
given by our painters to those on the face of Judas Iscariot ; his
eyes were hollow ; they had not the lustre of genius, nor the fire of
vivacity ; they were lighted up by that dark fire of wrath which is
kindled and fanned by an internal anxiety, and consciousness of
criminal deeds ; his irregular and large teeth were presented through
a smile, which w^as very unnatural on his set of features ; his mouth
seemed to be unusually large, from the extremities being drawn
backward and downward — as if in the intense application to some-
thing 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 ofl' his white plume and
a fragment of his buff coat. In a moment he was at the other side
of his square. Our officers eagerly sought a meeting with him. ' He
has the proof of lead,' cried some of our men — ' Take the cold steel,
or a piece of silver.' ' ]N"o,' cried Burley ; ' it is his rapid move-
ment on that fine charger that bids defiance to anything like an
BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG. 017
aim in the tumult of the bloody fray. I could sooner shoot ten
heathercocks on the wing, tlian one flyinp; Clavers.' At that moment
Burley, whose eye watched his antagonist, pushed into the hollow
square. But Burle}^ was 'too impatient. 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. Bur-
ley's men rushed pell-mell on the fallen Clavers, but his faithful
dragoons threw themselves upon them, and by their overpowering-
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 him-
self 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 offi-
cers. His steel fell on the helmet of Hackston, whose sword was
entangled in the body of a fierce dragoon w^ho had just wounded him.
He was borne by his men into the rear. I directed my men on
Clavers. ' Victory or deaiJi^ 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 mele^ men and horses tumbled on
us. We were for a few moments buried under our men, whose eager-
ness to save their respective officers, brought them in multitudes dowm
upon us. By the aid of my faithful man, Gawn, I had extricated
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 suffo-
cated, 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. We speedily regained our,
friends ; and what a spectacle presented itself! It seemed as if I be-
held an immense moving mass heaped up together in the greatest
confusion. 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 in-
stant 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 retreating host. His troops galloped up the hill in the utmost
618 BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.
confusion. My little line closed with tliat 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 bare-
headed Clavers in front of his men, kicking and stmggling up the
steep sides of Calder-hill. lie halted only a moment on the top to
look behind him, then plunged his rowels into his horse, and darted
forward ; nor did he recover from this panic till he found himself in
the city of Glasgow."
" And, my children," the Laird would say, after he had told the
adventures of this bloody day, " I visited the field of battle next day ;
I shall never forget the sight. Men and horses lay in their gory beds.
I turned away from the horrible spectacle. I passed by the spot
where God saved my life in the single combat, and where the un-
happy 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 re-
gaining of our liberty and religion, has subjected us to severe trials.
And how great must be the love of liberty, when it carries men for-
ward, under the impulse of self-defence, to witness the most disgust-
ing spectacles, and to encounter 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 Glasgow, and alarmed the soldiers
there. Next day, Mr. Hamilton, and those who joined them in their
march, being too much flushed with their success, marched to Glas-
gow, and entered the town about ten o'clock ; but after six or eight
were killed, and two or three wounded, they were obliged to quit the
place, and retire to Hamilton, where they pitched a sort of camp.
Such was the inhumanity of the soldiers, that seven dead bodies lay
on the street from eleven in the forenoon till night; and when they
were taken into houses to be dressed for their burial, the soldiers came
and stripped them of their dead-clothes ; nay, when they permitted
them to be buried, none durst appear to perform this service but
women, w^hom, 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 received a
false account of these transactions, issued a proclamation against the
rebels^ as they called them. The council issued another proclamation,
ordering the militia to rendezvous, and to join and act with the
regular forces, under severe penalties ; and, ordering all the heritors
and freeholders to attend the king's host, made all preparations they
judged necessary for suppressing the rebellion^ as it was termed.
On the same day, lord Ross, and the officers in Glasgow, finding
that the gathering of the country people still increased, marched
with the forces to Kilsyth, and carried with them in carts some
of the wounded countrymen, who fell into their hands ; and on the
6th were joined by the earl of Linlithgow at Larbertmuir; but
BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG. 619
being falsely informed that the west country army was 8,000 strong,
they wrote to the council, that it was the general sense of the officers,
that his majesty should be applied to for assistance from England.
Meanwhile, matters were so managed at court, that the duke of
Monmouth was pitched upon to command an army for suppressing
the insurrection. When the council received the news of this, they,
on the 15th, wrote to court, and proposed 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, considering the
necessity there was to assist them in this extremity, and that they
themselves were liable to the same danger from their enraged ene-
mies. They never, as Mr. Wodrow thinks, exceeded 4,000, though
Echard would have them to be 17,000 when they were routed at
Bothwell ; but then many were but ill armed, and it was their loss that
they had not officers who understood the art of war.
When the king's forces left Glasgow, Mr. Welch and several others
came thither from Carrick, and interred the bodies of those who had
been killed in the late attempt, together with the heads of the sulier-
ers 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 declaration was agreed to by the majority : —
" We, who are here providentially convened in our own defence,
for preventing and removing the mistakes and misapprehensions of
all, especially of those whom we wish to be and hope are friends, to
declare our present purposes and endeavours 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 engage-
ment to duties, made and taken in the year 1648, declaring against
popery, prelacy, Erastianism, and all things depending thereupon."
At another meeting, Mr. Hamilton, and those of his sentiments,
moved, that they might observe a day of fasting and humilation be-
fore they should be engaged with the enemy. They who were of
difierent 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 wa7\ Mr. Hamilton and his adherents were for having it
stated upon the footing of the Kutherglen Declaration ; but they who
favoured the indulgence proposed, that the king's authority should
be expressly owned, according to the third article of the Solemn
620 BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.
League and Covenant. Against this it was argued, that, as they liad
made no declaration 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 ap-
pearing, were carried on in his name. The Covenants, they said, only
fiound them to him in the preservation and defence of the true reli-
gion, and the liberties of the kingdoms ; but the king had actually
overturned the true religion, set up prelacy and Erastianism, ruined
the covenanted work of reformation, invaded the liberties of the king-
dom, ]->er3ecuted 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 163S, the Assembly and Covenanters owned the
king's authority, though he had declared war against them ; That
this method of throwing off the king's authority would obstmct the
redress of their grievances, and frustrate the design of their appear-
ance. 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 de-
claration : 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, tliQy 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
Cardoss, 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 towards 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 reasons 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 extremities 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.
BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG. 621
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 skilled in military affairs. About this time, a person
unknown 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 officers of the Presby-
terian 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 con-
troversy 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 de-
clared 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 Patori, William Carmichael, Andrew Turn-
bull, 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
applications from them, and that being an affair which could admit
of no delay, they unanim.ouSiy voted a supplication to his Grace,
wherein, after giving a general account of their grievances, 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 Both-
well-muir, and their advanced guards to Both well 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 Both well-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 dis-
guise, 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 Presbyterian 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
622 BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE.
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 kind's troops in the meantime had leisure to plant their can-
non ; and lord Livingston began the attack on the bridge with the
foot guards. The countrymen stood their ground for nearly an hour,
and defended the bridge with great gallantry. Ilackston of Rathil-
let, 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 quit 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 Bothwell Bridge.
It is well known, that after the disastrous event now to be de-
scribed, 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 rugged country. This was their situation
chiefly from the year 1680 to the Eevolution. The Laird also spent
his days in seclusion ; but still he fearlessly attended the weekly
assemblies in the fields, for the worship of Almighty God. What
had he to fear ? What more could he lose ? His estate had been
confiscated. His wife and babes stript by the life-guards of the last
remnant of earthly comfort which they could take away ; and him-
self 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 covenants to be
burnt by the hands of the executioner. I have seen him subvert the
liberty of my country, both civil and religious. I have seen him
erect a bloody inquisition. The priests, imposed on us by tyranny,
instead of wooing us over by the loveliness of religion, have thrown
off the bowels of mercy. They occupy seats in the bloody Council.
They stimulate the cruelties of Lauderdale, M'Kenzie, and York.
Their hands are dipped in blood to the wrists. This Council will
not permit us to live in peace. Our property they confiscate. 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 sentence,
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 injustice extorts a complaint against our
BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE. Q2S
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 wlio recalled him from exile, and
who placed the crown on his head. He has murdered our men, our
wives, and our children. We have, indeed, formally renounced this
tyrant, by declaring war against him ; but we have hitherto failed in
the attempt to rouse the energies of our sleeping countr3\ 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
executioners ; and these savages do still continue to employ even the
sagacity of hloodhounds 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 ! ]^or 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 flow^ers 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 sham-
bles, the bleeding limbs of the martyrs. I have seen the hammer of
the barbarians ^li. the heads of my companions 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 effect 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 !"
The laird while he was uttering these words, had thrown himself
on his knees. His arms were stretclied forw^ard 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 dispon-
dency, were fixed on heaven ; and the tears streaming over his sun-
burned cheeks, fell in large drops trom his beard on his girdle.
* This was exemplified in cbe case of James Robertson, a merchant in Stonehouse,
Lanarkshire, who was executed at Edinburgh, on imh December, 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 inter-
rupted by the ruffling 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."
^24 BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE.
At this moment his brother Jolm entered with looks which betrayed-
iinusual anxiety. " My brotlier," siiid lie, " you must resume these
weapons, which your studious habits have thrown into the corner.
Praying must give way to fighting now. A trooper advances at full
speed, and he is followed by a dark column. We have not even time
to fly." — The mind of the Laird, like those of the rest of the wander-
ers, always brightened up at the approach of danger. " I guessed
some such tidings from that tragedy lace of yours," said he. " Our
perils are so great that they do not allow us time to vent our com-
plaints," added he, as he 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 Cla-
vers' band ; nor does he belong to Douglas — nor to Inglis — nor to
Strachan's dragoons. He waves a small flag. I can discover the
scarlet and blue color 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 whicli
this was the close : " My bleeding country, and thy wailing Kirk,
and my brethren in the furnace, have come in remembrance before
thee. For ever lauded be thy name." " Hasten to the meeting at
Lesmahagow. Our friends behind me, you see, have already set
out," said Howie. And he set oif 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 unprofi-
table, 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 Assembly will, I
trust, set all things right again. My forfeiture shall be restored, and
my wife and babes shall surround me in the domestic circle; and,
brother John — what is no small afifair — I shall now have a respite —
far from the horrid din of war — quietly to finish that w^ork, over
which I have literally trimmed the midnight lamp, with my sword
and musketoon lying before me. Gawn Witherspoon," said the
Laird, in a higher tone, " call my moss-headed hostler, and let u^
have our horses. I have a mind to meet my old friends at Lesmaha-
gow. And then, when serious business is despatched, we can take
* The grandson of this person (John Howie, the Compiler of the Soots Worthies) is the
person whom the Great Unknmim has been pleased to designate Old Mortality. But indi-
viduals who have been from infancy familiar with the history of this author of the epi-
taphs, this repairer of the tombs of the Martyrs, has never heard him called Old Mor-
tality. There are comparatively few in the west of Scotland who are not familiar wiih
the name of John Howie — Old Mortality is his name only in romance.
BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE. 625
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 battie ground of Bothwell.
" On that moor," said the Laird, after a long silence — and, with-
out being conscious of it, he had, by a kind of instinct natural enough
to a soldier, drawn his sword, and was pointing with it — '' On that
moor the enemy first formed under Monmouth. There, on the right,
Clavers led on the life-guards, breathing fury, and resolute to wipe
off the disgrace of the afikir of Drumclog. Dalziel formed his men
on that knoll. Lord Livingston led the van of the foemen. We had
taken care to have Bothwell Bridge strongly secured by a barricade,
and our little battery of cannon was planted on that spot below us,
in order to sweep the bridge. And we did rake it. The foemen's
blood streamed there. Again and again the troops of the tyrant
marched on, and our cannon annihilated their columns. Sir Robert
Hamilton was our commander-in-chief. The gallant General Hack-
ston stood on that spot with his brave men. Along the river, and
above the bridge, Burley's foot and captain ]!*^isbet's dragoons were
stationed. For one hour we kept the enemy in check ; they were
defeated in every attempt to cross the Clyde. Livingston sent ano-
ther strong column to storm the bridge. I shall never forget the
effect of one fire from our battery, where my men stood. We 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 divi-
sions 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
be called on colonel Fleming's. Hackston flew from troop to troop —
all was confusion ; in vain he besought, he entreated, he threatened.
Our disputes and fiery m'isguided 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 for-
bearance. ' 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 —
Cheist's Ckown and the Covenant. Hear the voice of your weep-
ing country. Hear the wailings of the bleeding Kirk. Banish dis-
cord. And let us, as a band of brothers, present a bold front to the
foemen. Follow me, all ve who love your country and the Cove-
40
626 BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE.
nant. 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 beheld the de-
spair on the faces of my brave fellows, as I struck out the head of the
vessel. Ilackston called his officers to him. We threw ourselves
around him. ' What must be done V said he, in an agony of de-
spah*. ' 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 coi-ps — we cheered our men, but they were languid and
dispirited. Their ammunition was nearly expended, and they seemed
anxious to husband what remained. Thej^ 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 recognized the plume of Clavers. They
approached in rapid march. A solid column of infantry followed.
I sent a request to captain ISTisbet to join his troop to mine. He was
in an instant with us. We charged the life-guards. Our swords
rung on theij* steel caps. Many of my brave lads fell on all sides of
me. But w^e 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 exhausted 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
mid our Country^ They faced about. We charged Clavers once
more — * Torfoot,' cried I^isbet, ' I dare you to the fore-front of the
battle.' We rushed up at full gallop. Our men seeing this, followed
also at full speed. We broke the enemy's line, bearing down those
files which we encountered. We cut our -vyay through their ranks.
But they had now lengthened 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
* The natives of Hamilton have preserved, by tradition, the name of the merchant who
did this disservice to the Covenanters' army.
BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE. 627
saddle. We reined our horses, and galloped to our main body. But
what a scene presented itself here ! These misguided men had their
eyes now fully opened on their fatal errors. The enemy were bi*ing-
ing up their whole force against them. I was not long a near spec-
tator 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 the battle, but he was covering the retreat of these misguided
men. Before we could rejoin him, a party threw themselves in om*
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 received a
cut on the left arm ; and the sword, by the same stroke, shore off one
of his horses' ears ; it plunged and reared. We closed again. I re-
ceived 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 he 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 before 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 tumbled from his saddle, and his steed galloped over
the field. I did not repeat the blow. His left hand presented his
I sword ; his right arm was disabled ; his life was given to him. My
I 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
j Livingstone were riding over the field, like furies, cutting down all
in their way. Monmouth was galloping from rank to rank, and call-
ing 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. — ' IS^o,' 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 meU. 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 Eobert,
as we mounted him on a stray horse, ' the day is lost ! But — you,
Paton ; you, Brownlee of Torfoot, 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.
i:
628 BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE.
"We collected some of our scattered troops, and flew to the place. The
standard-bearer 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
brilliant gold letters, inspired us with a sacred enthusiasm. We
gave a loud cheer to the wounded ensign, and rushed into the com-
bat. The redemption of that flag cost the foe many a gallant man.
They fell beneath our broadswords ; 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 polluted threshold, 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.' Another 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 w^th 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 Ilalket and Strachan were. We left
the field together. Fifteen dragoons attacked us. We cut down thir-
teen, 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. " i^ow, Johnny," cried Ilalket to me, " put
forth your metal, else we are gone." Nine others we sent after their
comrades, and two fled."^ STow, who will join this raid V ' I will
be your leader,' said Sir Eobert, 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 feeling of
120f
* See this chivalrous defence recorded, in the life of Captain Paton, p. 546 of this edii
This celebrated officer was trained up to warfare in the army of Charles Gustavus, King
Sweden, and affords a good specinnen of those heroic Whigs who brousjht about the Revolu-
tion of 168S.
BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE. ()29
humanity to spare their lives. He had just finished his usual oath
against their ' feelings of humanity,' 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 field fly-
ing 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 ultimate
destiny."
Thus the rebellion at Both well, as it was called, was suppressed.
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 surren-
dered prisoners on the muir, who were not only disarmed and stripped
almost naked, but made to lie down flat on the ground, and not suf-
fered 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. Kever-
Itheless, great were the severities used by the soldiers, as the follow-
ling glaring instances will evince : — Mr. William Gordon of Earlstoun,
'having his affairs to settle, could not join the country army, but sent
ihis son, Mr. Alexander, before, who was in the action. Mr. William,
jnot knowing of the disaster of the west country army, and riding as
iquickly as he could to join them, was met by a party of English
pragoons, and, refusing to surrender, was killed on the spot. His
friends could not get him buried with the rest of his family, and
therefore he lies interred in the church-yard of Glassford. A pillar
Iwas erected over his grave, but no inscription was suffered to be upon
it. Mr. (afterwards Sir) Alexander Gordon narrowly escaped, by
jmeans of one of his tenants, who, knowing him as he rode through
jHamilton after the defeat, made him dismount, put his horse furniture
linto 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
pver the river, particularly James Scouller and Gavin Semple in the
'oarish of Glassford, John Browning, Kobert Stobo, William Hamil-
630 BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE.
ton, Eobert Steil, "William Pate, and Archibald Dick, from the
parish of Evandale, and Kobert 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 happened 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 propo-
sal 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 Lauder-
dale, and wrote to colonel Struthers in Northumberland, to secure
the borders, stop and imprison the rebels, and give what orders he
thought proper to accomplish 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 cmel 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 accountable for the sentinels, and the town of Edinburgh for
the officers. These orders were put in execution, and the prisoners
were all carried to the place appointed, except a few who were put
in prison, and continued in that enclosure near ^ve 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 re-
count all their hardships, and with what difficulty persons wer^
allowed to bring them any necessary provisions, and how the womt
were insulted and abused by the soldiers. It was esteemed a sin^
lar favour that some huts made of deals were set up for them a fei
weeks before they were brought out of this place.
On the 26th, a proclamation was issued against the rebels^ as the
called them. Many names were inserted in this proclamation^ an(
SKIRMISH AT AIRSMOSS. (531
among others, that of Mr. John King. The two brothers of the earl
of Galloway were also named in it ; but the conncil afterwards de-
clared they had made it appear that they were not in the rebellion.
This proclamation made way for the soldiers to commit many cru-
elties through the country. A great many parties were dispersed
through the west and south, but none were so noted for their bar-
barities as Claverhouse, and those under his command. Accordingly,
upon any frivolous information, 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 High-
land host.
Claverhouse, marching into Galloway, with some English dragoons,
scarcely made any distinction between those who had been at Both-
well and others, seized all the horses they could find, plundered the
houses, particularly in the parishes of Carsphairn, Balmaclellan, and
Glencairn ; ravages, murder, and the most atrocious barbarities
marking his progress.
Soon after this, the duke of Monmouth published a pardon and in-
demnity to all tenants and subtenants who had been at Bothwell, in
case they submitted themselves against such a day. There was like-
wise 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 returned to England.
Account of the Skirmish at Airsmoss, 1680.*
We, getting notice of a party out seeking us, sent two on Wednes-
day night, late, to know their motion, and lay on a moor side all
night. On Thursday, about ten hours, we went to take some meat,
and sent out other two, and desired them to consult with the former
two, who had not come to us, but were lying down to sleep. They all
four returned and told us it was unnecessary to send any for intelligence,
they having secured 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 after-
noon, and each one resolving to fight, I rode off to seek a strength for
our advantage, and being desired by a countryman to go into such
a place for the best strength, I went and they followed ; but coming
to it I found we could go no farther, and so turning and drawing up
(jiiickly, eight horse on the right hand with E. 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,
* This paper, from the pen of Hackston of Rathillet, who commanded the Presbyterians
on the occasion lo which it refers, is preserved in the Appendix to Vol. II. of Wodrow s
History-.
(532 SKIRMISH AT AIRSMOSS.
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 iirst 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 ; whereujwn, wlien 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 be-
hind me broken, rode in amongst them, and went out at a side, with-
out 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 Eamsay, one of my acquaintance. We both
being on foot, fought with small swords, without advantage of one
another ; but at length closing, I was stricken down with three on
horseback 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 I did not see, nor know, but as they told me
after, the field was theirs. I was brought toward Douglas. They
used me civilly, and brought me drink out of an house by the way.
At Douglas, Janet Clellan was kind to me, and brought a chirurgeon
to me, who did but little to my wounds, only staunching the blood.
Next morning, I was brought to Lanark, and brought before
Dalziel, Lord Ross, and some others, who asked many questions at
me : but I not satisfying them with answers, Dalziel threatened to|
roast me; and, carrying me to the tolbooth, 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, and give me any ease whatsoever. And next morning
they brought me and John Pollock, and other two of us, near two
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 toi
Edinburgh about four in the afternoon, and carried about the north;
side of the town, to the foot of the Canongate, where the town magis-
trates were who received us ; and setting me on a horse with my face;
backward, and the other three bound on a goad of iron, and Mr.'
Cameron's head carried on a halbert before me, and another head in]
a sack, which I knew not, on a lad's back ; they carried us up the]
street to the Parliament close, where I was taken down, and the rest'
loosed.
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