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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.

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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

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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-

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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