TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

  This book is a collection of twenty separate ‘Chap-books’.

  There is only one Footnote, which has been placed at the end of its
  Chap-book.

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  Many minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.




  John Cheap

  The Chapman’s Library:

  THE

  _SCOTTISH CHAP LITERATURE_

  OF LAST CENTURY CLASSIFIED


  RELIGIOUS AND SCRIPTURAL.


  _GLASGOW_:
  ROBERT LINDSAY, QUEEN STREET.
  1877.




_CONTENTS._

  The Life of John Knox.
  The Life of John Welch.
  The Life and Prophecies of Alexander Peden.
  The Life and Prophecies of Donald Cargill.
  The Battles of Drumclog and Bothwell Bridge.
  The Laird of Lag’s Elegy.
  A Wedding King for the Finger.
  The Pilgrim’s Progress.
  Watt’s Divine Songs.
  The Plant of Renown.
  Honey from the Rock of Christ.
  Sins and Sorrows before God.
  A Token for Mourners.
  Prayers for Families and Private Persons.
  The New Pictorial Bible.
  Lives of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
  The History of Moses.
  History of Joseph and his Brethren.
  The Life and Death of Judas Iscariot.
  The Wife of Beith. (_Verse._)




  THE LIFE

  AND

  MERITORIOUS TRANSACTIONS,

  OF

  JOHN KNOX,

  THE GREAT SCOTTISH

  _REFORMER_.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE

LIFE OF

JOHN KNOX.


At the Reformation one half of the lands of Scotland were the
property of the church. David I. had made over almost the whole of
those belonging to the crown, and his example was imitated, not
only by many of his successors, but by all orders of men, with whom
the founding a monastery, or endowing a church, was thought to
be a sufficient atonement for the breach of every command in the
decalogue.

Besides the influence derived from the nature and extent of their
property, generally let on lease, on easy terms, to the younger
sons and dependants of great families, the weight the clergy had
in Parliament was very considerable. The number of temporal barons
being extremely limited, and the lesser barons and representatives
of boroughs looking upon it as a hardship to attend, combined with
the mode of choosing the Lords of the Articles. Its proceedings in
a great measure were left under their direction and control.

The Lords of the Articles were a Committee whose business it was
to prepare and digest all matters that were to be laid before
Parliament. Every motion for a new law was made in this committee,
and approved or rejected by the members of it; what they approved
was formed into a bill, and presented to Parliament; what they
rejected could not be introduced into the house. This committee
owed the extraordinary powers vested in it to the military genius
of the ancient nobles, and in this way not only directed all the
proceedings of Parliament, but possessed a negative before debate.
It consisted of eight temporal and eight spiritual lords, of eight
representatives of boroughs, and of eight great officers of the
crown, and when its composition is considered, it will easily be
seen how much influence it would add to the already too great power
of the clergy.

Their character also was held sacred; neither were they subject
to the same laws, nor tried by the same judges as the laity, a
remarkable instance of which occurred on the trial of the murderers
of Cardinal Beaton, one of whom was a priest. He was claimed by a
delegate from the clerical courts, and exempted from the judgement
of Parliament on that account.

By their reputation for learning, they almost wholly engrossed
the high offices of emolument and trust in the civil government;
but even this was not for acting in their capacity of confessors,
they made use of all these motives which operate so powerfully on
the human mind, to promote the interest of the church, so that
few were allowed to leave the world without bestowing on her some
marks of their liberality, and where credulity failed to produce
this effect, they called in the aid of law. (When a person died
intestate, by the 22d Statute of William the Lion, the disposal
of his effects was vested in the bishop of the diocese, after
paying his funeral charges and debts, and distributing among his
kindred the sums to which they were respectively entitled, it being
presumed that no Christian could have chosen to leave the world
without destining some of his substance to pious purposes.) Their
courts had likewise the cognisance of all testamentary deeds and
matrimonial contracts, and to these engines of power, and often
in their hands of oppression, they super-added the sentence of
excommunication, which besides depriving the unhappy victim on
whom it fell of all Christian privileges, cut him off from every
right as a man or citizen. To these, and other causes of a similar
nature, may be ascribed the power of the Popish church; and to
these, also, combined with the celibacy to which by the rule of
their church they were restricted, may be attributed the dissolute
and licentious lives of the clergy, which in the end destroyed that
reputation for sanctity, the people had been accustomed to attach
to their character.

According to the accounts of the reformers, confirmed by several
popish writers, the manners of the Scottish clergy were indecent in
the extreme. Cardinal Beaton celebrated the marriage of his eldest
daughter with the son of the Earl of Crawford, with an almost regal
magnificence, and maintained a criminal correspondence with her
mother to the end of his days. The other prelates were not more
exemplary than their primate, and the contrast between their lives,
and those of the reformers, failed not to make a considerable
impression on the minds of the people. Instead of disguising their
vices the Popish clergy affected to despise censure; instead of
endeavouring to colour over the absurdity of the established
doctrines, or found them on Scripture, they left them to the
authority of the church and decrees of the councils; the only
apology they have ever been able, even to the present day, to
offer for the monstrous absurdity of their system. The duty of
preaching was left to the lowest and most illiterate of the monks.

The following anecdote will give a lively idea of their mode of
preaching:--The prior of the Black Friars at Newcastle, in a sermon
at St Andrews, asserted that the Paternoster should be said to God
only, and not the saints. This doctrine not meeting the approbation
of the learned of that city, they appointed a Gray Friar to refute
it, who choose for his text, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,”
which he illustrated in this manner. Seeing we say, good day,
father, to any old man in the street, we may call a saint pater,
who is older than any alive; and seeing they are in heaven, we
may say to any of them, “Our father who art in heaven;” seeing
they are holy, we may say, “hallowed be thy name;” and, since
they are in the kingdom of heaven, may add, “thy kingdom come;”
and as their will is God’s will, “thy will be done;” but when he
come to “give us this day our daily bread;” he was much at a loss
confessing it was not in the power of the saints to give us our
daily bread; “yet they may pray to God for us,” he said, “that he
may give us our daily bread.” The rest of his commentary being not
more satisfactory, set his audience a laughing and the children on
the streets calling after him, Friar Paternoster, he was so much
ashamed that he left the city.

The only device by which they attempted to bring back the people
to their allegiance was equally unfortunate and imprudent; they
had recourse to false miracles, which the vigilance of the
reformers detected and exposed to ridicule. The bare-faced
impositions that were practised by the monks on the credulous,
are almost inconceivable.--Among other customs of those times, it
was common for them to travel to Rome and come home laden with
relics, blessed by his holiness, dispensations for sin, by which
they wheedled the credulous out of their money. One of these, on
a holiday, endeavouring to vend his wares to the country people,
among other things shewed them a bell with a rent in it, possessing
the virtue of discovering the truth or fallacy of an oath; for, as
he pretended, if any one swore truly, with his hand on the bell,
he could easily remove it, without any change; but if the oath
was false, his hand would stick to it, and the bell rent asunder.
A farmer, rather more shrewd than the rest of his auditors,
suspecting the truth of this assertion, asked liberty to take an
oath in the presence of those assembled, about an affair which
nearly concerned him. The monk could not refuse; and the farmer
addressing the crowd, said, “Friends, before I swear, you see the
rent, how large it is, and that I have nothing on my fingers to
make them stick to the bell.” Then laying his hand on it, he took
this oath.--“I swear, in the presence of the living God, and before
these good people, that the pope of Rome is Antichrist, and that
all the rabble of his clergy, cardinals, archbishops, bishops,
priests, monks, with all the rest of the crew, are locust, come
from hell, to delude the people, and to withdraw them from God;
moreover, I promise they will all return to hell;” and lifting his
hand he added. “See, friends, I have lifted my hand freely from the
bell, and the rent is no larger, this sheweth that I have sworn
the truth.”

The cause of reformed religion, was powerfully supported by the
ambition of the Queen-dowager. (Mary of Guise) After the death of
James V. her husband, the Earl of Arran, was appointed Regent of
the kingdom during the minority of her daughter; and from that
situation she wished to exclude him, that she might enjoy the first
honours of the state alone, and promote the designs of her brothers
upon Scotland. For this purpose she applied to the favourers of the
Reformation, as being the most numerous of the Regent’s enemies,
and forming a respectable body in the state; and although her
promises of protection were insincere, they, in a very considerable
degree, abated the fury of persecution.

John Knox, who contributed so much, both by precept and example,
to work out the Reformation from Popery; was the descendant of an
ancient family, and born at Gifford, near Haddington, in 1505. On
finishing his education at the grammar school, he was removed to
St. Andrew’s, to complete his studies under the celebrated John
Mair, by whose instructions he made such progress that he received
orders before the time prescribed by the rules of the church. After
this, he quitted scholastic learning, so much in reputation at
that period, and applied himself with diligence to the reading of
the fathers of the church, particularly St Angustine, from which,
attending the preaching of one Thomas Enillam, a Black Friar, and
the conversation of Mr George Wishart, a celebrated reformer, who
came from England in 1545 with the commissioners sent by Henry
VIII. to conclude a treaty with the Earl of Arran, after the death
of James V. he attained a more than ordinary degree of scriptural
knowledge, and entirely renounced the Roman Catholic religion.

On leaving St Andrew’s, Mr Knox acted as tutor to the sons of
Douglas of Longniddry, and Cockburn of Ormiston, whom, besides the
different branches of common education, he carefully instructed
in the principles of the reformed religion, having composed a
catechism for their use, besides reading lectures to them on
various portions of the scriptures. In this practice he continued
till Easter 1547, when werried out by the repeated persecutions
of Cardinal Beaton, he left Longniddry for St. Andrew’s, resolved
to visit Germany, the state of England proving unfavourable to
his views. Against taking this step, however, he was persuaded
by the gentlemen whose children he had the charge, to remain in
St. Andrews, the castle of that place being in the hands of the
reformers.

Here he continued to teach his pupils in the usual manner, but his
lectures were now attended by a number of people belonging to the
town, who earnestly intreated him to preach in public. This task he
at first declined, but afterwards accepted a call from the pulpit,
and in his very first sermon discovered such zeal, learning, and
intrepidity, as evinced the prudence of their choice, and how
eminently qualified he was for the discharge of those duties.
This success caused such alarm among the Popish clergy, that a
letter was sent to the sub-prior by the abbot of Paisley, natural
brother of the Regent, who had been nominated to the archbishopric
reproving him for his negligence, in allowing such doctrines to
be taught without opposition. A meeting of the clergy was held in
consequence, and every scheme they could devise put in practice to
hurt Mr Knox’s usefulness; but, in a public disputation, he replied
to all their arguments with so much acuteness as completely to
silence them, and gained many proselytes, who made prefession of
their faith by partaking of the communion openly, which he was the
first to administer in the manner practised at present.

This success was not of long duration, for a body of French troops
was sent to besiege the castle, and it was compelled to surrender
on the 23d July, when he, along with the garrison, was sent
prisoner to France, and confined in the gallies till the year 1549.
On obtaining his liberty he retired to England, where he preached
sometime at Berwick, afterwards at Newcastle and London, and was at
last chosen one of the itinerants appointed by Edward VI. to preach
the Protestant doctrine through England. Upon the death of that
prince, on the 6th July, 1553, he went to Geneva, where he resided
when he was chosen by the English church at Frankfort, on the 24th
September, 1554, to be their pastor, a situation he accepted by
the advice of the celebrated John Calvin, but which he did not
long enjoy, for having opposed the introduction of the English
liturgy, and refused to celebrate the communion according to the
forms prescribed by it, he was deprived of his office; and, such
was the malice of his enemies, that, taking advantage of a passage
in his “Admonition to England,” wherein he compares the Emperor
to Nero, and the Queen of England to Jezebel, they accused him to
the magistrates of treason. These gentlemen perceiving the spirit
by which his accusers were actuated, found means to apprise him
of his danger; and on the 26th march, 1555, he left Frankfort for
Geneva, from whence he proceeded to Dieppe, and shortly afterwards
to Scotland, where he arrived in the month of August.

On his arrival he found the reformers much increased in number,
and after assisting them to rectify some errors which had crept
into their practice, accompanied John Erskine of Dun to his seat in
the Mearns, where he continued a month, preaching to the principle
people in that country. He afterwards resided at Calder-house,
the residence of Sir James Sandilands, where he was attended by a
number of personages of the first rank; and, among others, by the
prior of St Andrew’s afterwards earl of Moray. During the winter
he visited Edinburgh; preached in many places of Ayrshire; and in
the beginning of 1556, at the request of the earl of Glencairn,
administered the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper to his lordship’s
family, and a number of friends, at his seat of Finlayston.

In this way did Mr Knox continue preaching, sometimes in one
place, and sometimes in another, when his success excited so much
attention that the Popish clergy summoned him to appear before
them, on the 15th of May, in the church of the Black Friars
in Edinburgh. He did appear, but attended by such a number of
followers that the clergy deemed it prudent to desist from their
intended prosecution; and that same day he addressed a much
greater audience than ever he had done on any prior occasion, and
continued to do so for ten days.

The earl of Glencairn, one of his firmest friends, prevailed on
the earl Marshal, and Mr Henry Drummond, to attend one of Mr
Knox’s sermons, they were so highly gratified with it that they
persuaded him to address a letter to the Queen, in the hope she
also might be induced to hear the doctrine of the reformers. In
this letter, contending for the truth of what he taught, he says,
“Albeit, Madam, that the messengers of God are not sent this day
with visible miracles, because they teach no other doctrine than
that which is confirmed with miracles from the beginning of the
world, yet will not he (who hath promised to take charge over his
poor and little flock to the end) suffer the contempt of their
ambassage to escape punishment and vengeance, for the truth itself
hath said, ‘he that heareth you heareth one, and he that contemneth
you contemneth one.’ I do not speak unto you, Madam, as Pasquillus
doth to the Pope and his carnal cardinals, in the behalf of such as
dare not utter their names, but I come in the name of Christ Jesus;
affirming, that the religion ye maintain is damnable idolatry,
which I offer myself to prove, by the most evident testimony of
God’s Scriptures; and in this quarrel I present myself against all
the Papists in the realm, desiring no other armour but God’s holy
word, and the liberty of my tongue.” It was delivered to the Queen
by the earl of Glencairn, and by her to the bishop of Glasgow,
(nephew of Cardinal Beaton) with this observation, “Please you, my
lord, to read a pasquil,” which coming to the ears of Mr Knox, was
the occasion of his making a number of additions when the letter
was printed afterwards at Geneva.

At this time he received letters from the English church at Geneva,
which had separated from the one at Frankfort, commanding him, “in
God’s name, as he was their chosen pastor, to repair to them for
their comfort.” Having preached in almost every congregation he had
formerly visited, and sent his wife and mother-in-law before him to
Dieppe, he sailed from Scotland in the month of July for Geneva.
No sooner had he left the kingdom than the bishops summoned him
to answer a charge of heresy; and, on his non-appearance, burnt
him in effigy at the cross of Edinburgh. Against this sentence, in
1558, he published his “Appellation,” addressed to the “Nobility
and Estates of Scotland.” In this composition, which has been much
admired, after appealing “to a lawful and general council,” and
requiring of them that defence which, as princes of the people,
they were bound to give him, he adds, “these things I require of
your honours to be granted unto me, viz. that the doctrine which
our adversaries condemn for heresy may be tried by the plain and
simple word of God; that the just defences be admitted to us that
sustain the battle against this pestilent battle of Antichrist;
and that they be removed from judgment in our cause, seeing that
our accusation is not intended against any one particular person,
but against that whole kingdom which we doubt not to prove to be a
power usurped against God, against his commandments, and against
the ordinance of Christ Jesus, established in his church by his
chief apostles; yea, we doubt not to prove the kingdom of the Pope
to be the kingdom and power of Antichrist, and therefore, my lords,
I cannot cease, in the name of Christ Jesus, to require of you that
the matter may come to examination, and that ye, the estates of the
realm, by your authority, compel such as will be called bishops,
not only to desist from their cruel murdering of such as do study
to promote God’s glory, in detecting and disclosing the damnable
impiety of that man of sin the Roman Antichrist; but, also, that
ye compel them to answer to such crimes as shall be laid to their
charge, for not righteously instructing the flock committed to
their care.”

In March, 1557, sensible of his importance, a letter, subscribed
Glencairn, Erskine, Lorn, and James Stuart, was transmitted to Mr
Knox at Geneva, entreating him to return home. Having communicated
its contents to his congregation, for which he provided another
minister, and taking the advice of John Calvin, and other
ministers, he set out for Scotland.

Addressing himself to the lords who had invited his return, Mr
Knox expostulates with them on their rash conduct, as having a
tendency to cause both them and him to be evil spoken of.--“For
either,” said he, “it shall appear that I was marvellous vain,
being so solicited, where no necessity required, or else that such
as were my movers thereto lacked the ripeness of judgment in their
first vocation.” Along with this letter he sent one to the whole
nobility, and others to particular gentlemen, advising them in what
manner they ought to proceed. On their receipt a new consultation
was held, and a bond subscribed at Edinburgh on the 13th December,
1557, whereby they agreed to “forsake and renounce the congregation
of Satan, with all the superstitious abominations and idolatry
thereof.” From this period those subscribing, and their adherents,
were known by the title of the Congregation. Previous to this
agreement, however, a number of letters were sent off to Mr Knox,
and to John Calvin, that he might use his influence in persuading
him to return.

This year (1558,) the Queen Regent, through the concurrence of
the Protestant party in Parliament, obtained an act to be passed,
conferring the matrimonial crown on the Dauphin, the husband of
her daughter, the unfortunate Mary. They had been induced to
forward her views in this favourite scheme, that they might obtain
from her an exemption from that tyranny with which the ancient
laws armed the ecclesiastics against them, and enjoy the free
exercise of their religion. No sooner, however, had she obtained
the gratification of her wishes, than the accomplishment of a new
scheme, the placing her daughter on the throne of England, and to
which she had been prompted by the ambition of her brothers, the
princes of the house of Lorraine, at that time in the plenitude
of their power at the Court of France, rendered an union with the
Catholics necessary. It was vain to expect the assistance of the
Scots Protestants to dethrone Elizabeth, whom all Europe considered
as the most powerful defender of the Reformed faith. She therefore
began to treat them with coldness and contempt, and not only
approved the decrees of a convocation of the Popish clergy, in
which the principles of the Reformation were condemned, but at the
same time issued a proclamation enjoining the observance of Easter
according to the ritual of the Romish church.

Alarmed at these proceedings, and still more at an order summoning
all the Reformed clergy in the kingdom, to attend a court of
justice at Stirling, on the 10th May, 1559, the earl of Glencairn,
and Hugh Campbell of Louden, were deputed to wait on her and
intercede in their behalf. On urging their peaceable demeanour,
and the purity of their doctrine, she said, “In despite of you,
and your ministers both, they shall be banished out of Scotland,
albeit they preached as true as ever did St. Paul.” And on pleading
her former promises of protection, she replied, “The promises
of princes ought not to be too carefully remembered, nor the
performance of them exacted unless it suits their convenience.”

Perth, in the meantime, having embraced the Reformed religion,
added to the rage which agitated the Queen against the Protestants,
and she commanded the provost (Patrick Ruthven,) to suppress all
their assemblies. The answer of this gentleman deserves to be
recorded for its manly freedom. “I have power over their bodies
and estates,” said he, “and these I will take care shall do no
hurt; but have no dominion over their consciences.” The day of
trial now approached, and the town of Dundee, and the gentlemen of
Angus and Mearns, in comformity of an old custom which prevailed
in Scotland, resolved to accompany their pastors to the place of
trial. Intimidated by their numbers, though unarmed, she prevailed
on John Erskine of Dun, a person of great influence among them,
to stop them from advancing nearer to Stirling, while she, on her
part, promised to take no further steps towards the intended trial.
This proposition was listened to with pleasure, the preachers and
some of the leaders remained at Perth, and the multitude quietly
dispersed to their respective homes.

Notwithstanding this promise, on the 10th May, the queen proceeded
to the trial of the persons summoned; and, on their failing to
appear, sentence of outlawry was pronounced upon them. This open
and avowed breach of faith added greatly to the public irritation,
and the Protestants boldly prepared for their defence. Mr Erskine
having joined his associates at Perth, his representation of the
Queen’s irreconcilable hatred so inflamed the people, that scarcely
the authority of the magistrates, or the exhortations of their
preachers, could prevent them from proceeding to acts of violence.

At this juncture, Mr Knox landed in Scotland from France, and,
after residing two days in Edinburgh, joined his brethren in Perth,
that he might aid them in their cause, and give his confession
along with theirs. On the 11th, the day after the sentence of
outlawry was pronounced, he made a vehement discourse against
idolatry, and while the minds of the people were yet in a state
of agitation, from the impression made upon them by his sermon,
a priest prepared to celebrate mass, which made a youth observe,
“This is intolerable, that when God in his word hath plainly
condemned idolatry we shall stand and see it used in despite.”
The irritated priest struck him a blow on the ear, and the youth
in revenge threw a stone at him, which broke an image of one of
the saints. This was the signal of tumult, and ere two days had
elapsed, all the churches and convents about Perth were destroyed.
Such was the anger of the Queen on receiving this intelligence,
that she avowed to reduce Perth to ashes, and ordered M. D’Ossal,
the commander of a corps of French auxiliaries, at that time in the
service of Scotland, instantly to march, and carry her threats into
execution. Both parties, however, were desirous of accommodation,
and a treaty was concluded, in which it was stipulated that the
two armies should be disbanded, the gates of Perth set open to
the queen, but that none of her French soldiers should approach
within three miles of that city, and that a Parliament should be
immediately held to settle the remaining differences.

No sooner were the Protestant forces disbanded, than the Queen
violated every article of the treaty. In consequence of which the
earl of Argyle, and the prior of St Andrew’s, who had been her
commissioners for settling the peace, with some other gentlemen,
openly left her. Having warned the confederates of her intention
to destroy St Andrew’s and Cupar, a considerable army was soon
assembled, which assaulted Crail, broke down the altars and
images, and proceeded thence to St Andrew’s, where they levelled
the Franciscan and Dominican monasteries to the ground. The Queen
immediately gave orders to occupy Cupar, with the intention of
attacking them at St Andrew’s, but in this she was anticipated, an
army equal to her own having occupied the place two days before.
Finding herself too weak to encounter them in the field, she had
again recourse to negotiation; but mindful of her former duplicity,
the Protestants would only agree to a truce for eight days, by
which the Duke of Chatelherault and D’Ossal became bound to
transport all the French soldiers to the other side of the Frith,
and send commissioners to St Andrew’s with full powers to conclude
a formal treaty of peace.

Several days elapsed without any person appearing on the part
of the queen, and suspecting some new plan to entrap them, the
Protestants, after concerting measures to expel the French garrison
from Perth, wrote to her Majesty, complaining that the terms of the
first treaty were still unfulfilled, and begging her to withdraw
her troops from that city in conformity with its stipulations.
Their letters remaining unnoticed, they laid siege to Perth, which
surrendered, after a feeble resistance, on the 26th June, 1559.

Being informed that the Queen resolved to seize Stirling, and
cut off the communication between the reformers on the opposite
sides of the Frith, by a rapid march they frustrated her plans,
and in three days, after they had made themselves masters of
Perth, the victorious reformers entered Edinburgh. The Queen on
their approach retired to Dunbar,--where she amused them with
hopes of an accommodation, in the expectation of being joined
with reinforcements from France. Intelligence, in the meantime,
was received of the death of the French king, which, while it was
favourable to the cause of the reformers, rendered their leaders
more negligent and secure. Numbers of them left the city on their
private affairs, their followers were obliged to disperse for
want of money, and those who did remain were without discipline
or restraint. The Queen receiving advice of this, by means of her
spies, marched with all the forces she could muster directly to
Edinburgh, and possessed herself, on the 25th of July, of Leith.
She consented, however, to a truce, to continue till the 5th
January, 1560, by which liberty of conscience was secured; Popery
was not to be established again where it had been suppressed, the
reformers were not to be hindered from preaching wherever they
might happen to be, and no garrison was to be stationed within the
city. These terms were preserved till she received the expected
reinforcements, when she fortified Leith, from which all the
efforts of the reformers were unable to dislodge her troops. A
mutiny also breaking out among their soldiers for want of pay, and
having been defeated in two skirmishes with the French troops,
it was resolved, by a majority of the lords of the congregation,
to retire to Stirling. This rash step was productive of great
terror and confusion, and contrary to the advice of Knox; who,
notwithstanding, followed the fortunes of his friends, animating
and reviving them by his discourses, and exhorting them to
constancy in the good cause.

At a meeting held shortly after their arrival at Stirling, it was
resolved, to despatch William Maitland, who had lately deserted
the Queen’s party to England, to implore the assistance of Queen
Elizabeth, and a treaty was at last concluded, by which a body of
troops was sent to their assistance. These being joined by most of
the Scottish nobility, a peace was established on the 8th July,
1560, by which the reformed religion was fully established in
Scotland.

On the abolition of Popery, the form of church goverment
establishment in Scotland was, upon the model of the church at
Geneva, warmly recommended to his countrymen by Knox, as being
farthest removed from all similarity to the Romish church; and
at his suggestion, likewise, the country was divided into twelve
districts, for the more effectually propagating the doctrines of
the Reformation, of which Edinburgh was assigned to his care. Knox,
assisted by his brethren afterwards composed a confession of Faith,
and compiled the first books of discipline for the government of
the church. These were ratified by a convention of Estates, held
in the beginning of the following year (1571), and an act passed
prohibiting mass and abolishing the authority of the Pope.

On the return of Mary, daughter of Mary of Guise, from France, and
so well known afterwards throughout all Europe for her beauty,
her accomplishments, and her misfortunes, after the death of
her husband Francis II. the celebration of mass in the chapel
royal excited a great tumult, many crying out, “The idolatrous
papist shall die the death, according to God’s law;” and John
Knox, in a sermon preached the Sunday following after showing the
judgments inflicted on nations for idolatry, added, “one mass
is more fearful to me than if ten thousand armed enemies were
landed in any part of the realm, of purpose to suppress the whole
religion.” In consequence of this language he was sent for by the
queen, who accused him of endeavouring to excite her subjects to
rebellion, of having written against her lawful authority, and
of being the cause of great sedition. To this he answered, among
other things, “that if to teach the word of God in sincerity, if
to rebute idolatry, and to will a people to worship God according
to his word, be to raise subjects against their princes, then
cannot I be excused; for it hath pleased God in his mercy to make
me one amongst many to disclose unto this realm the vanity of the
papistical religion.--And touching that book, that seemeth so
highly to offend your majesty, it is most certain that if I wrote
it I am content that all the learned of the land should judge of
it. My hope is, that, so long as ye defile not your hands with the
blood of the saints of God, that neither I nor that book shall
either hurt you or your authority; for, in very deed, Madam, that
book was written most especially against that wicked Mary of
England.” To a question by the Queen, if subjects, having power,
may resist their princes? He boldly answered they might, “if
princes do exceed their bounds.” The following part of the dialogue
will give a good idea of the character of Knox, and the freedom
of his speech: Speaking of the church, the Queen observed, “but
ye are not the church of Rome, for I think it is the true church
of God.” “Your will, Madam,” said he, “is no reason; neither doth
your thought make that Roman harlot to be the immaculate spouse of
Jesus Christ. And wonder not, Madam, that I call Rome an harlot,
for that church is altogether polluted with all kinds of spiritual
fornication, as well in doctrine as in matters.” He had afterwards
two other conferences with the queen, at the last of which she
burst into tears, crying out, “Never prince was used as I am.”

Knox’s situation became very critical in April, 1571, when Kircaldy
received the Hamiltons, with their forces, into the castle. Their
inveteracy against him was so great, that his friends were obliged
to watch his house during the night. They proposed forming a
guard for the protection of his person when he went abroad; but
the governor of the castle forbade this, as implying a suspicion
of him, and offered to send Melvil, one of his officers, to
conduct him to and from church. “He wold gif the woulf the wedder
to keip,” says Bannatyne. Induced by the importunity of the
citizens, Kircaldy applied to the Duke and his party for a special
protection to Knox; but they refused to pledge their word for his
safety, because “there were many rascals and others among them who
loved him not, that might do him harm without their knowledge.”
Intimations were often given him of threatenings against his
life; and one evening, a musket ball was fired in at his window,
and lodged in the roof of the apartment in which he was sitting.
It happened that he sat at the time in a different part of the
room from that in which he had been accustomed to take his seat,
otherwise the ball, from its direction, must have struck him.
Alarmed by these circumstances, a deputation of the citizens,
accompanied by his colleague, waited upon him, and renewed a
request which they had formerly made, that he would remove from
Edinburgh, to a place where his life would be in greater safety,
until the Queen’s party should evacuate the town. But he refused to
yield to them, apprehending that his enemies wished to intimidate
him into flight, that they might carry on their designs more
quietly, and then accuse him of cowardice. Being unable to persuade
him by any other means, they at last had recourse to an argument
which prevailed. Upon this he consented, “sore against his will,”
to remove from the city.

In May, 1571, at the desire of his friends, and for greater
security, he left that city for St Andrew’s, where he remained
until the August following. The cause that forced him to change
his residence having ceased to operate, at the express desire of
his congregation he again returned, but could not long continue
to preside over it, on account of the exhausted state of his
health; and on the 9th November, abmitted Mr James Lawson, formerly
professor of philosophy at Aberdeen, to be his successor.

From this time till the 24th of the same month, when he expired,
about eleven o’clock at night, in the 67th year of his age; his
principal employment was reading the Scriptures and conversing
with his friends; and over his remains, which were accompanied to
the churchyard by the Earl of Morton, the Regent, and a number of
other noblemen, and people of all ranks, his lordship pronounced
the following eulogium: “Here lies a man, who in his life never
feared the face of man; who hath been often threatened with dag and
dagger, but yet hath ended his days in peace and honour.”


FINIS.




  HISTORY

  OF THE LIFE & SUFFERINGS

  OF THE

  REV. JOHN WELCH,

  SOMETIME MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL AT AYR.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE

LIFE OF JOHN WELCH.


Mr. John Welch was born a gentleman, his father being laird of
Colieston, (an estate rather competent, than large, in the shire
of Nithsdale) about the year 1570, the dawning of our reformation
being then but dark. He was a rich example of grace and mercy, but
the night went before the day, being a most hopeless extravagant
boy: it was not enough to him, frequently when he was a young
stripling to run away from the school and play the truant; but
after he had passed his grammar, and was come to be a youth, he
left the school, and his father’s house, and went and joined
himself to the thieves on the English border, who lived by robbing
the two nations, and amongst them he stayed till he spent a suit of
clothes. Then he was clothed only with rags, the prodigal’s misery
brought him to the prodigal’s resolution, so he resolved to return
to his father’s house, but durst not adventure, till he should
interpose a reconciler. So in his return homeward, he took Dumfries
in his way where he had an aunt, one Agnes Forsyth, and with her
he diverted some days, earnestly entreating her to reconcile him
to his father. While he lurked in her house, his father came
providentially to the house to salute his cousin, Mrs. Forsyth;
and after they had talked a while, she asked him, whether he had
ever heard any news of his son John; to her he replied with great
grief, O cruel woman, how can you name his name to me? The first
news I expect to hear of him, is, that he is hanged for a thief.
She answered, many a profligate boy had become a virtuous man,
and comforted him. He insisted upon his sad complaint, but asked
whether she knew his lost son was yet alive. She answered, Yes, he
was, and she hoped he should prove a better man than he was a boy,
and with that she called upon him to come to his father. He came
weeping and kneeled, beseeching his father, for Christ’s sake, to
pardon his misbehaviour, and deeply engaged to be a new man. His
father reproached him and threatened him. Yet, at length, by the
boy’s tears, and Mrs. Forsyth’s importunities, he was persuaded to
a reconciliation. The boy entreated his father to send him to the
college, and there to try his behaviour, and if ever thereafter
he should break, he said he should be content his father should
disclaim him for ever: so his father carried him home, and put
him to the college, and there he became a diligent student, of
great expectation, and shewed himself a sincere convert, and so he
proceeded to the ministry.

His first post in the ministry was at Selkirk, while he was yet
very young, and the country rude; while he was there, his ministry
was rather admired by some, than received by many; for he was
always attended by the prophet’s shadow, the hatred of the wicked;
yea, even the ministers of the country, were more ready to pick
a quarrel with his person, than to follow his doctrine, as may
appear to this day in their synodical records, where we find he
had many to censure him, and only some to defend him; yet it was
thought his ministry in that place was not without fruit, though
he stayed but a short time there. Being a young man unmarried, he
lodged himself in the house of one Mitchelhill, and took a young
boy of his to be his bed-fellow, who to his dying day retained both
a respect to Mr. Welch and his ministry, from the impressions Mr.
Welch’s behaviour made upon his mind though but a child.

The special cause of his leaving Selkirk, was a profane gentleman
in the country (one Scot of Headschaw, whose family is now extinct)
but because Mr. Welch had either reproved him, or merely from
hatred, Mr. Welch was most unworthily abused by the unhappy man,
amongst the rest of the injuries he did him, this was one, Mr.
Welch kept always two good horses for his use, and the wicked
gentleman when he could do no more, either with his own hand, or
his servants, cut off the rumps of the two innocent beasts, upon
which followed such effusion of blood, that they both died, which
Mr. Welch did much resent, and such base usage as this persuaded
him to listen to a call to the ministry at Kirkcudbright, which was
his next post.

But when he was about to leave Selkirk, he could not find a man in
all the town to transport his furniture, except one Ewart, who was
at that time a poor young man, but master of two horses, with which
he transported Mr. Welch’s goods, and so left him, but as he took
his leave, Mr. Welch gave him his blessing, and a piece of gold for
a token, exhorting him to fear God, and promised he should never
want, which promise, providence made good through the whole course
of his life, as was observed by all his neighbours.

At Kirkcudbright he stayed not long; but there he reaped a harvest
of converts, which subsisted long after his departure, and were
a part of Mr. Samuel Rutherfoord’s flock, though not his parish,
while he was minister at Anwith: yet when his call to Ayr came to
him, the people of the parish of Kirkcudbright never offered to
detain him, so his transportation to Ayr was the more easy.

Mr. Welch was transported to Ayr in the year 1590, and there he
continued till he was banished, there he had a very hard beginning,
but a good ending; for when he came first to the town, the country
was so wicked, and the hatred of godliness so great, that there
could not be found one in all the town, that would let him a house
to dwell in, so he was constrained to accommodate himself in the
best he might, in a part of a gentleman’s house for a time, the
gentleman’s name was John Stewart, he was an eminent Christian, and
a great assistant of Mr. Welch.

And when he had first taken up his residence in that town, the
place was so divided into factions, and filled with bloody
conflicts, a man could hardly walk the streets with safety;
wherefore Mr. Welch made it his first undertaking to remove the
bloody quarrelings, but he found it a very difficult work; yet such
was his earnestness to pursue his design, that many times he would
rush betwixt two parties of men fighting, even in the midst of
blood and wounds.

His manner was, after he had ended a skirmish amongst his
neighbours, and reconciled these bitter enemies, to cause them
to cover a table upon the street, and there brought the enemies
together, and begining with prayer he persuaded them to protest
themselves friends, and then to eat and drink together, then last
of all, he ended the work with singing a psalm: after the rude
people began to observe his example, and listen to his heavenly
doctrine, he came quickly to that respect amongst them that he
became not only a necessary counsellor, without whose counsel they
would do nothing, but an example to imitate, and so he buried the
bloody quarrels.

He gave himself wholly to ministerial exercises, he preached once
every day, he prayed the third part of his time, was unwearied
in his studies, and for a proof of this, it was found among his
papers, that he had abridged Suarez’s metaphysics, when they came
first to his hand, even when he was well stricken in years. By
all which, it appears, that he has not only been a man of great
diligence but also of a strong and robust natural constitution,
otherwise he had never endured the fatigue.

But if his diligence was great, so it is doubted whether his sowing
in painfulness, or his harvest in his success was greatest; for
if either his spiritual experiences in seeking the Lord, or his
fruitfulness in converting souls be considered, they will be found
unparalleled in Scotland: and many years after Mr. Welch’s death,
Mr. David Dickson, at that time a flourishing minister at Irvine,
was frequently heard to say, when people talked to him of the
success of his ministry, that the grape gleanings in Ayr, in Mr.
Welch’s time, were far above the vintage of Irvine, in his own. Mr.
Welch, in his preaching, was spiritual and searching, his utterance
tender and moving; he did not much insist upon scholastic purposes,
he made no shew of his learning. I once heard one of his hearers
say, That no man could hear him and forbear weeping, his conveyance
was so affecting. There is a large volume of his sermons, now in
Scotland, wherein he makes it appear, his learning was not behind
his other virtues: this also appears in another piece, called Dr.
Welch’s Armagaddon, printed, I suppose, in France, wherein he
gives his meditation upon the enemies of the church, and their
destruction; but the piece itself is rarely to be found.

Sometimes before he went to sermon, he would send for his elders,
and tell them, he was afraid to go to pulpit because he found
himself sore deserted; and thereafter desire one or more to pray,
and then he would venture to pulpit. But, it was observed, this
humbling exercise used ordinarily to be followed, with a flame
of extraordinary assistance: so near neighbours are many times
contrary dispositions and frames. He would many times retire to
the church of Ayr, which was at some distance from the town, and
there spend the whole night in prayer: for he used to allow his
affections full expression, and prayed not only with audible, but
sometimes, loud voice, nor did he irk, in that solitude, all the
night over, which hath, it may be, occasioned the contemptible
slander of some malicious enemies, who were so bold as to call him
no less than a witch.

There was in Ayr, before he came to it, an aged man a minister
of the town, called Porterfield, the man was judged no bad man,
for his personal inclinations, but so easy a disposition, that he
used many times to go too great a length with his neighbours in
many dangerous practices; and amongst the rest, he used to go to
the bow-butts and archery, on Sabbath afternoon, to Mr. Welch’s
great dissatisfaction. But the way he used to reclaim him, was not
bitter severity, but this gentle policy; Mr. Welch together with
John Stewart, and Hugh Kennedy, his two intimate friends, used to
spend the Sabbath afternoon in religious conference and prayer, and
to this exercise they invited Mr. Porterfield, which he could not
refuse, by which means he was not only diverted from his former
sinful practice, but likewise brought to a more watchful, and
edifying behaviour in his course of life.

He married Elizabeth Knox, daughter to the famous Mr. John Knox,
minister at Edinburgh, the apostle of Scotland, and she lived with
him from his youth till his death. By her I have heard he had three
sons: the first was called Dr. Welch, a doctor of medicine, who
was killed in the low countries, and of him I never heard more.
Another son he had most lamentably lost at sea, for when the ship
in which he was embarked was sunk, he swam to a rock in the sea,
but starved there for want of necessary food and refreshment, and
when sometime afterward his body was found upon the rock, they
found him dead in a praying posture upon his bended knees, with
his hands stretched out, and this was all the satisfaction his
friends and the world had upon his lamentable death, so bitter
to his friends. Another he had who was heir to his father’s
grace and blessings, and this was Mr. Josias Welch, minister at
Temple-Patrick in the north of Ireland, commonly called the Cock
of the Conscience by the people of that country, because of his
extraordinary wakening and rousing gift: he was one of that blest
society of ministers, which wrought that unparalleled work in the
north of Ireland, about the year 1636, but was himself a man most
sadly exercised with doubts about his own salvation all his time,
and would ordinarily say, That ministers was much to be pitied,
who was called to comfort weak saints and had no comfort himself.
He died in his youth, and left for his successor, Mr. John Welch
minister at Iron-Gray in Galloway, the place of his grandfather’s
nativity. What business this made in Scotland, in the time of the
late Episcopal persecution, for the space of twenty years, is known
to all Scotland. He maintained his dangerous post of preaching
the gospel upon the mountains of Scotland, notwithstanding of the
threatnings of the state, the hatred of the bishops, the price set
upon his head, and all the fierce industry of his cruel enemies.
It is well known that bloody Claverhouse upon secret information
from his spies, that Mr. John Welch was to be found at some lurking
place at forty miles distance, would make all that long journey
in one winter’s night, that he might catch him, but when he came
he always missed his prey. I never heard of a man that endured
more toil, adventured upon more hazards, escaped so much hazard,
not in the world. He used to tell his friends who counselled him
to be more cautious, and not to hazard himself so much, That he
firmly believed dangerous undertakings would be his security, and
when ever he should give over that course and retire himself, his
ministry should come to an end; which accordingly came to pass, for
when after Bothwell bridge, he retired to London, the Lord called
him by death, and there he was honourably buried, not far from the
king’s palace.

But to return to our old Mr. Welch; as the duty wherein he abounded
and excelled most was prayer, so his greatest attainments fell that
way. He used to say, He wondered how a Christian could lie in bed
all night, and not rise to pray, and many times he watched. One
night he rose from his wife, and went into the next room, where
he stayed so long at secret prayer, that his wife fearing he
might catch cold, was constrained to rise and follow him, and as
she hearkened, she heard him speak as by interrupted sentences,
Lord wilt thou not grant me Scotland, and after a pause, Enough,
Lord, enough, and so she returned to her bed, and he following
her, not knowing she had heard him, but when he was by her, she
asked him what he meant by saying, Enough, Lord, enough. He shewed
himself dissatisfied with her curiosity, but told her, he had been
wrestling with the Lord for Scotland, and found there was a sad
time at hand, but that the Lord would be gracious to a remnant.
This was about the time when bishops first overspread the land,
and corrupted the church. This was more wonderful I am to relate,
I heard once an honest minister, who was a parishioner of Mr.
Welch many a day, say, ‘That one night as he watched in his garden
very late, and some friends waiting upon him in his house and
wearying because of his long stay, one of them chanced to open a
window toward the place where he walked, and saw clearly a strange
light surrounding him, and heard him speak strange words about his
spiritual joy,’ I do neither add nor alter, I am the more induced
to believe this that I have heard from as good a hand as any in
Scotland, that a very godly man, though not a minister, after he
had spent a whole night in a country house, in the muir, declared
confidently, he saw such an extraordinary light as this himself,
which was to him both matter of wonder and astonishment. But though
Mr. Welch had upon the account of his holiness, abilities, and
success, acquired among his subdued people, a very great respect,
yet was he never in such admiration, as after the great plague
which raged in Scotland in his time.

And one cause was this: The magistrates of Ayr, forasmuch as this
town alone was free, and the country about infected, thought
fit to guard the ports with sentinels, and watchmen; and one
day two travelling merchants, each with a pack of cloth upon a
horse, came to the town desiring entrance that they might sell
their goods producing a pass from the magistrates of the town
whence they came which was at that time sound and free; yet not
withstanding all this the sentinels stopt them till the magistrates
were called; and when they came, they would do nothing without
their minister’s advice: so Mr. Welch was called, and his opinion
asked; he demurred, and putting off his hat with his eyes toward
heaven for a pretty space, though he uttered no audible words,
yet continued in a praying gesture: and after a little space told
the magistrates they would do well to discharge these travellers
their town, affirming with great asseveration, the plague was in
their packs, so the magistrates commanded them to be gone, and
they went to Cumnock, a town some twenty miles distant, and there
sold their goods, which kindled such an infection in that place,
that the living were hardly able to bury their dead. This made the
people begin to think Mr. Welch as an oracle. Yet as he walked
with God, and kept close with him, so he forgot not man, for he
used frequently to dine abroad with such of his friends, as he
thought were persons with whom he might maintain the communion of
the saints; and once in the year he used always to invite all his
familiars in the town to a treat in his house, where there was a
banquet of holiness and sobriety.

And now the scene of his life begins for to alter; but before his
blessed sufferings, he had this strange warning.

One night he rose from his wife, and went into garden, as his
custom was, but stayed longer than ordinary, which troubled his
wife, who, when he returned, expostulated with him very hard, for
his staying so long to wrong his health; he bid her be quiet, for
it should be well with them. But he knew well, he should never
preach more at Ayr; and accordingly before the next Sabbath, he was
carried prisoner to Blackness castle. After that, he, with many
others were brought before the council of Scotland, at Edinburgh,
to answer for their rebellion and contempt, in holding a general
assembly, not authorised by the king. And because they declined the
secret council, as judges competent in causes purely spiritual,
such as the nature and constitution of a general assembly is,
they were first remitted to the prison at Blackness, and other
places. And thereafter, six of the most considerable of them,
were brought under night from Blackness to Linlithgow before the
criminal judges, to answer an accusation of high treason, at the
instance of Sir Thomas Hamilton, king’s advocate, for declining,
as he alledged, the king’s lawful authority, in refusing to admit
the council judges competent in the cause of the nature of church
judicatories; and after their accusation, and answer was read, by
the verdict of a jury of very considerable gentlemen, condemned as
guilty of high treason, the punishment continued till the king’s
pleasure should be known, and thereafter their punishment was made
banishment, that the cruel sentence might someway seem to soften
their severe punishment as the king had contrived it.

But before he left Scotland, some remarkable passages in his
behaviour are to be remembered. And first when the dispute about
church-government began to warm; as he was walking upon the street
of Edinburgh, betwixt two honest citizens, he told them, they had
in their town two great ministers, who were no great friends to
Christ’s cause, presently in controversy, but it should be seen,
the world should never hear of their repentance. The two men were
Mr. Patrick Galloway, and Mr. John Hall; and accordingly it came to
pass, for Mr. Patrick Galloway died easing himself upon his stool;
and Mr. John Hall, being at that time in Leith, and his servant
woman having left him alone in his house while she went to the
market, he was found dead all alone at her return.

He was sometime prisoner in Edinburgh castle before he went into
exile, where one night sitting at supper with the lord Ochiltry,
who was an uncle to Mr. Welch’s wife, as his manner was, he
entertained the company with godly and edifying discourse, which
was well received by all the company save only one debauched popish
young gentleman, who sometimes laughed, and sometimes mocked and
made faces; whereupon Mr. Welch brake out into a sad abrupt charge
upon all the company to be silent, and observe the work of the Lord
upon that prophane mocker, which they should presently behold;
upon which immediately the prophane wretch sunk down and died
beneath the table, but never returned to life again, to the great
astonishment of all the company.

Another wonderful story they tell of him at the same time; the lord
Ochiltry the captain, being both sons to the good lord Ochiltry,
and Mr. Welch’s uncle in law, was indeed very civil to Mr. Welch,
but being for a long time, through the multitude of affairs, kept
from visiting Mr. Welch in his chamber, as he was one day walking
in the court, and espying Mr. Welch at his chamber window asked
him kindly how he did, and if in any thing he could serve him.
Mr. Welch answered him, He would earnestly entreat his lordship,
being at that time to go to court, to petition king James in his
name, that he might have liberty to preach the gospel; which my
lord promised to do. Mr. Welch answered, my lord, both because you
are my kinsman, and other reasons, I would earnestly entreat, and
obtest you not to promise except you faithfully perform. My lord
answered, He would faithfully perform his promise; and so went for
London. But though at his first arrival he was really purposed to
present the petition to the king, but when he found the king in
such a rage against the godly ministers, that he durst not at that
time present it, so he thought fit to delay it, and thereafter
fully forgot it.

The first time that Mr. Welch saw his face after his return from
court, he asked him what he had done with his petition. My lord
answered he, had presented it to the king, but that the king was
in so great a rage against the ministers at that time, he believed
it had been forgotten, for he had gotten no answer. Nay said Mr.
Welch to him, My lord you should not lye to God, and to me, for I
know you never delivered it, though I warned you to take heed not
to undertake it, except you would perform it; but because you have
dealt so unfaithfully, remember God shall take from you both estate
and honours, and give them to your neighbour in your own time:
which accordingly came to pass, both his estate and honours were in
his own time transmitted to James Stewart son to captain James,
who was indeed a cadet, but not the lineal heir of the family.

While he was detained prisoner in Edinburgh castle, his wife used
for the most part to stay in his company, but upon a time fell into
a longing to see her family in Ayr, to which with some difficulty
he yielded; but when she was to take her journey, he strictly
charged her not to take the ordinary way to her own house, when
she came to Ayr, nor to pass by the bridge through the town, but
to pass the river above the bridge, and so get the way to her own
house, and not to come into the town, for, said he, before you
come thither, you shall find the plague broken out in Ayr, which
accordingly came to pass.

The plague was at that time very terrible, and he being necessarily
separate from his people, it was to him the more grievous; but when
the people of Ayr came to him to bemoan themselves, his answer was,
that Hugh Kennedy, a godly gentleman in their town, should pray
for them, and God should hear him. This counsel they accepted, and
the gentleman convening a number of the honest citizens, prayed
fervently for the town, as he was a mighty wrestler with God, and
accordingly after that the plague decreased.

Now the time is come he must leave Scotland, and never to see it
again, so upon the seventh of November 1606 in the morning, he
with his neighbours took ship at Leith, and though it was but two
o’clock in the morning, many were waiting on with their afflicted
families, to bid them farewell. After prayer, they sung the xxiii
psalm, and so set sail for the south of France, and landed in the
river of Bourdeaux. Within fourteen weeks after his arrival, such
was the Lord’s blessing upon his diligence, he was able to preach
in French, and accordingly was speedily called to the ministry,
first in one village, then in another; one of them was Nerac, and
thereafter settled in Saint Jean d’ Angely, a considerable walled
town, and there he continued the rest of the time he sojourned in
France, which was about sixteen years. When he began to preach, it
was observed by some of his hearers, that while he continued in the
doctrinal part of his sermon, he spoke very correct French, but
when he came to his application and when his affections kindled,
his fervour made him sometimes neglect the accuracy of the French
construction: but there were godly young men who admonished him of
this, which he took in very good part, so for preventing mistakes
of that kind, he desired the young gentlemen, when they perceived
him beginning to decline, to give him a sign, and the sign was,
that they were both to stand up upon their feet, and thereafter
he was more exact in his expression through his whole sermon; so
desirous was he, not only to deliver good matter, but to recommend
it in the neat expression.

There were many times persons of great quality in his auditory,
before whom he was just as bold as ever he had been in a Scots
village; which moved Mr. Boyd of Trochrig once to ask him, (after
he had preached before the university of Samure with such boldness
and authority, as if he had been before the meanest congregation)
how he could be so confident among strangers, and persons of such
quality! to which he answered, That he was so filled with the dread
of God, he had no apprehension from man at all; and this answer,
said Mr. Boyd, did not remove my admiration, but rather increased
it.

There was in his house amongst many others, who tabled with him for
good education, a young gentleman of great quality, and suitable
expectations, and this was the heir of the lord Ochiltry, who was
captain of the castle of Edinburgh. This young nobleman, after he
had gained very much upon Mr. Welch’s affections, fell sick of
a grievous sickness, and after he had been long wasted with it,
closed his eyes, and expired as dying men used to do, so to the
apprehension and sense of all spectators, he was no more but a
carcase, and was therefore taken out of his bed, and laid upon a
pallat on the floor, that his body might be the more conveniently
dressed, as dead bodies used to be. This was to Mr. Welch a very
great grief, and therefore he stayed with the young man’s dead
body full three hours, lamenting over him with great tenderness.
After twelve hours, the friends brought in a coffin, whereunto
they desired the corps to be put, as the custom is: but Mr. Welch
desired, that for the satisfaction of his affections, they would
forbear the youth for a time, which they granted, and returned not
till twenty four hours, after his death, were expired; then they
returned, with great importunity the corps might be coffined, that
it might be speedily buried, the weather being extremely hot; yet
he persisted in his request, earnestly begging them to excuse him
for once more; so they left the youth upon his pallat for full
thirty six hours: but even after all that, though he was urged, not
only with great earnestness, but displeasure, they were constrained
to forbear for twelve hours yet more; and after forty eight hours
were past, Mr. Welch was still where he was, and then his friends
perceived that he believed the young man was not really dead, but
under some apoplectic fit, and therefore proponed to him for his
satisfaction, that trial should be made upon his body by doctors
and chirurgeons, if possibly any spark of life might be found in
him, and with this he was content: so the physicians are set on
work, who pinched him with pincers in the fleshy parts of his body,
and twisted a bow string about his head with great force, but no
sign of life appearing in him, so the physicians pronounced him
stark dead, and then there was no more delay to be desired; yet Mr.
Welch begged of them once more, that they would but step into the
next room for an hour or two, and leave him with the dead youth,
and this they granted: Then Mr. Welch fell down before the pallat,
and cried to the Lord with all his might, for the last time and
sometimes looked upon the dead body, continuing in wrestling with
the Lord till at length the dead youth opened his eyes, and cried
out to Mr. Welch whom he distinctly knew, O Sir, I am all whole,
but my head and legs: and these were the places they had sore hurt,
with their pinching.

When Mr. Welch perceived this, he called upon his friends, and
shewed them the dead young man restored to life again, to their
great astonishment. And this young nobleman, though he lost the
estate of Ochiltry, lived to acquire a great estate in Ireland, and
was lord Castlestewart, and a man of such excellent parts, that he
was courted by the earl of Stafford to be a counsellor in Ireland,
which he refused to be, and then he engaged, and continued for all
his life, not only in honour and power, but in the profession and
practice of godliness, to the great comfort of the country where
he lived. This story the nobleman communicated to his friends in
Ireland, and from them I had it.

While Mr. Welch was minister in one of these French villages, upon
an evening a certain popish friar travelling through the country,
because he could not find lodging in the whole village, addressed
himself to Mr. Welch’s house for one night. The servants acquainted
their master and he was content to receive this guest. The family
had supped before he came, and so the servants convoyed the friar
to his chamber, and after they had made his supper, they left him
to his rest. There was but a timber partition betwixt him and
Mr. Welch, and after the friar had slept his first sleep, he was
surprized with the hearing of a silent, but constant whispering
noise, at which he wondered very much, and was not a little
troubled with it.

The next morning he walked in the fields, where he chanced to meet
with a country man, who saluting him because of his habit, asked
him where he lodged that night? The friar answered he had lodged
with the hugenot minister. Then the country man asked him what
entertainment he had? The friar answered, Very bad; for, said he,
I always held there were devils haunting these ministers houses,
and I am persuaded there was one with me this night, for I heard a
continual whisper all the night over, which I believe was no other
thing, than the minister and the devil conversing together. The
country man told him, he was much mistaken, and that it was nothing
else, but the minister at his night prayer. O, said the friar, does
the minister pray any? Yes, more than any man in France, answered
the country man, and if you please to stay another night with him
you may be satisfied. The friar got home to Mr. Welch’s house, and
pretending indisposition, entreated another night’s lodging, which
was granted him.

Before dinner, Mr. Welch come from his chamber, and made his family
exercise, according to his custom. And first he sung a psalm, then
read a portion of scripture, and discoursed upon it, thereafter
he prayed with great fervour, as his custom was, to all which the
friar was an astonished witness. After the exercise they went to
dinner, where the friar was very civilly entertained, Mr. Welch,
forbearing all questions and dispute with him for the time; when
the evening came, Mr. Welch made his exercise as he had done in
the morning, which occasioned yet more wondering in the friar, and
after supper to bed they all went; but the friar longed much to
know what the night whisper was, and in that he was soon satisfied,
for after Mr. Welch’s first sleep, the noise began, and then the
friar resolved to be sure what it was, so he crept silently to
Mr. Welch’s chamber-door, and there he heard not only the sound,
but the words distinctly, and communications betwixt man and God,
and such as he knew not had been in the world. Upon the next
morning, as soon as Mr. Welch was ready, the friar went to him,
and told him, that he had been bred in ignorance, and lived in
darkness all his time, but now he was resolved to adventure his
soul with Mr. Welch, and thereupon declared himself Protestant:
Mr. Welch welcomed him and encouraged him, and he continued a
constant protestant to his dying day. This story I had from a godly
minister, who was bred in Mr. Welch’s house, when in France.

When Lewis XIII. king of France, made war upon the Protestants
there, because of their religion, the city of St. Jean d’ Angely,
was by him and his royal army besieged, and brought into extreme
danger, Mr. Welch was minister in the town, and mightily
encouraged the citizens to hold out, assuring them, God should
deliver them. In the time of the siege a cannon ball pierced
the bed where he was lying, upon which he got up, but would not
leave the room, till he had by solemn prayer acknowledged his
deliverance. During the siege, the townsmen made stout defence,
until one of the king’s gunners planted a great gun so conveniently
upon a rising ground, that therewith he could command the whole
wall, upon which the townsmen made their greatest defence. Upon
this they were constrained to forsake the whole wall in great
terror, and though they had several guns planted upon the wall,
no man durst undertake to manage them. This being told Mr. Welch
with great affrightment, he notwithstanding encouraged them still
to hold out, and running to the wall himself, found the cannonier,
who was a Burgundian, near the wall, him he entreated to mount the
wall, promising to assist him in person, so to the wall they got.
The cannonier told Mr. Welch, that either they behoved to dismount
the gun upon the rising ground, or else they were surely lost; Mr.
Welch desired him to aim well, and he should serve him, and God
would help him; so the gunner falls a scouring his piece, and Mr.
Welch runs to the powder to fetch him a charge; but as soon as he
was returning, the king’s gunner fired his piece, which carried
both the powder and ladle out of Mr. Welch’s hands, which yet did
not discourage him, for having left the ladle, he filled his hat
with powder, wherewith the gunner loaded his piece, and dismounted
the king’s gun at the first shot, so the citizens returned to their
post of defence.

This discouraged the king so, that he sent to the citizens to offer
them fair conditions, which were, That they should enjoy the
liberty of their religion, their civil privileges, and their walls
should not be demolished: only the king desired for his honours
that he might enter the city with his servants in a friendly
manner. This the city thought fit to grant, and the king with a few
more entered the city for a short time.

But within a short time thereafter the war was renewed, and then
Mr. Welch told the inhabitants of the city, that now their cup was
full, and they should no more escape; which accordingly came to
pass, for the king took the town, and as soon as ever it fell into
his hand, he commanded Vitry, the captain of his guard, to enter
the town, and preserve his minister from all danger; and then were
horses and waggons provided for Mr. Welch, to remove him and his
family for Rochel, where he remained till he obtained liberty to
come to England, and his friends made hard suit, that he might be
permitted to return to Scotland; because the physicians declared
there was no other way to preserve his life, but by the freedom he
might have in his native air. But to this king James would never
yield, protesting he should never be able to establish his beloved
bishops in Scotland, if Mr. Welch were permitted to return thither;
so he languished at London a considerable time, his disease was
judged by some to have a tendency to a sort of leprosy; physicians
say he had been poisoned; a langour he had, together with a great
weakness in his knees, caused by his continual kneeling at prayer:
by which it came to pass, that though he was able to move his
knees, and to walk, yet he was wholly insensible in them, and the
flesh became hard like a sort of horn. But when in the time of
his weakness, he was desired to remit somewhat of his excessive
painfulness, his answer was, He had his life of God, and therefore
it should be spent for him.

His friends importuned king James very much, that if he might not
return to Scotland, at least he might have liberty to preach at
London, which king James would never grant, till he heard all hopes
of life were past, and then he allowed him liberty to preach, not
fearing his activity.

Then as soon as ever he heard he might preach, he greedily embraced
this liberty, and having access to a lecturer’s pulpit, he went and
preached both long and fervently: which was the last performance
of his life; for after he had ended his sermon, he returned to his
chamber, and within two hours quietly and without pain, he resigned
his spirit into his Maker’s hands, and was buried near Mr. Deering,
the famous English divine, after he had lived little more than
fifty-two years.


FINIS




  THE

  LIFE

  AND

  PROPHECIES,

  OF

  ALEXANDER PEDEN

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW;
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE

LIFE AND PROPHECIES

OF

ALEXANDER PEDEN.


That most excellent minister of the gospel, and faithful defender
of the Presbyterian Religion, MR. ALEXANDER PEDEN, was born in the
parish of Sorn, near Ayr. After his course at the College, he was
sometime school-master, precentor, and session-clerk to Mr. John
Guthrie, minister of the gospel at Tarbolton. When he was about to
enter on the ministry, a young woman fell with child, in adultery,
to a servant in the house where she stayed; when she found herself
to be so, she told the father thereof, who said, I’ll run for it,
and go to Ireland, father it upon Mr. Peden, he has more to help
you to bring it up (he having a small heritage) than I have. The
same day that he was to get his licence, she came in before the
Presbytery and said, I hear you are to licence Mr. Peden, to be
a minister; but do it not, for I am with child to him. He being
without at the time, was called in by the moderator; and being
questioned about it, he said, I am utterly surprised, I cannot
speak; but let none entertain an ill thought of me, for I am
utterly free of it, and God will vindicate me in his own time and
way. He went home, and walked at a water-side upwards of 24 hours,
and would neither eat nor drink, but said, I have got what I was
seeking, and I will be vindicated, and that poor unhappy lass will
pay dear for it in her life, and will make a dismal end; and for
this surfeit of grief that she hath given me, there shall never one
of her sex come into my bosom; and, accordingly he never married.
There are various reports of the way that he was vindicated; some
say, the time she was in child-birth, Mr. Guthrie charged her to
give account who was the father of that child, and discharged the
women to be helpful to her, until she did it: some say, that she
confessed: others, that she remained obstinate. Some of the people
when I made enquiry about it in that country-side, affirmed, that
the Presbytery had been at all pains about it, and could get no
satisfaction, they appointed Mr. Guthrie to give a full relation of
the whole before the congregation, which he did; and the same day
the father of the child being present, when he heard Mr. Guthrie
begin to speak, he stood up, and desired him to halt, and said, I
am the father of that child, and I desired her to father it on
Mr. Peden, which has been a great trouble of conscience to me; and
I could not get rest till I came home to declare it. However it
is certain, that after she was married, every thing went cross to
them; and they went from place to place, and were reduced to great
poverty. At last she came to that same spot of ground where he
stayed upwards of 24 hours, and made away with herself!

2. After this he was three years settled minister at New Glenluce
in Galloway; and when he was obliged, by the violence and tyranny
of that time, to leave that parish, he lectured upon Acts xx. 17.
to the end, and preached upon the 31st. verse in the forenoon,
‘Therefore watch, and remember that for the space of three years I
ceased not to warn every one, night and day, with tears:’ Asserting
that he had declared the whole counsel of God, and had kept nothing
back and protested that he was free of the blood of all souls. And,
in the afternoon he preached on the 32d verse, ‘And now, brethren,
I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able
to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them that
are sanctified.’ Which was a weeping day in that kirk; the greatest
part could not contain themselves. He many times requested them to
be silent; but they sorrowed most of all when he told them that
they should never see his face in that pulpit again. He continued
until night; and when he closed the pulpit-door he knocked hard
upon it three times with his Bible, saying three times over, I
arrest in my Master’s name, that never one enter there, but such
as come in by the door, as I did. Accordingly, neither curate
nor indulged minister ever entered that pulpit, until after the
revolution, that a Presbyterian minister opened it.

3. After this he joined with that honest and zealous handful in the
year 1666, that was broken at Pentland-hills, and came the length
of Clyde with them, where he had a melancholy view of their end,
and parted with them there. James Cubison, of Paluchbeaties, my
informer, to whom he told this, he said to him, ‘Sir, you did well
that parted with them, seeing you was persuaded they would fall and
flee before the enemy.--Glory glory to God, that he sent me not
to hell immediately! for I should have stayed with them though I
should have been cut all in pieces.’

4. That night the Lord’s people fell, and fled before the enemy at
Pentland-hills, he was in a friend’s house in Carrick, sixty miles
from Edinburgh; his landlord seeing him mightily troubled enquired
how it was with him; he said, ‘To-morrow I will speak with you,’
and desired some candle. That night he went to bed. The next
morning calling early to his landlord, said, ‘I have sad news to
tell you, our friends that were together in arms, appearing for
Christ’s interest, are now broken, killed, taken, and fled every
man.’--the truth of which was fully verified in about 48 hours
thereafter.

5. After this, in June 1673, he was taken by Major Cockburn, in the
house of Hugh Ferguson, of Knockdow, in Carrick, who constrained
him to tarry all night. Mr. Peden told him that it would be a dear
night to them both. Accordingly they were both carried prisoners
to Edinburgh, Hugh Ferguson was fined in a thousand merks, for
resetting, harbouring, and conversing with him. The Council ordered
fifty pounds sterling to be paid to the Major out of the fines,
and ordained him to divide twenty-five pounds sterling among the
party that apprehended him. Some time after examination he was sent
prisoner to the Bass, where, and at Edinburgh, he remained until
December, 1668, that he was banished.

6. While prisoner in the Bass, one Sabbath-morning being about
the public worship of God, a young lass, about 13 or 14 years of
age, came to the chamber-door mocking with loud laughter: He said,
‘Poor thing, thou mocks and laughs at the worship of God, but ere
long God shall write such a sudden, surprising judgment on thee,
that shall stay thy laughing, and thou shalt not escape it.’ Very
shortly after, she was walking upon the rock, and there came a
blast of wind and sweeped her into the sea, where she perished.
While prisoner there, one day walking upon the rock, some soldiers
passing by him, one of them said, Devil take him. He said, ‘Fy,
fy, poor man, thou knowest not what thou art saying; but thou wilt
repent that.’--At which word the soldier stood astonished, and
went to the guard distracted, crying aloud for Mr. Peden, saying,
the devil would immediately take him away. He came to him again,
and found him in his right mind under deep convictions of great
guilt. The guard being to change, they desired him to go to his
arms; he refused, and said, he would lift no arms against Jesus
Christ his cause, and persecute his people, he had done that too
long. The governor threatened him with death, to-morrow about ten
of the clock; he confidently said, three times, though he should
tear all his body in pieces, he should never lift arms that way.
About three days after, the governor put him out of the garrison,
setting him ashore. He having a wife and children, took a house in
East Lothian, where he became a singular Christian. Mr. Peden told
these astonishing passages to the foresaid John Cubison and others,
who informed me.

7. When brought from the Bass to Edinburgh and sentence of
banishment passed upon him, in Dec. 1678. and sixty more
fellow-prisoners, for the same cause, to go to America, never to
be seen in Scotland again, under the pain of death; after this
sentence was past, he several times said, that the ship was not
yet built that should take him and these prisoners to Virginia; or
any other of the English plantations in America.--One James Kay, a
solid and grave Christian, being one of them, who lives in or about
the Water of Leith, told me, that Mr. Peden said to him, ‘James,
when your wife comes in, let me see her;’ which he did.--After some
discourse, he called for a drink, and when he sought a blessing, he
said. ‘Good Lord, let not James Kay’s wife miss her husband, till
thou return him to her in peace and safety; which we are sure will
be sooner than either he or she is looking for.’ Accordingly, the
same day-month that he parted with her at Leith, he came home to
her at the Water of Leith.

8. When they were on shipboard at the Water of Leith, there was a
report that the enemies were to send down thumbkins to keep them
from rebelling; at the report of this, they were discouraged:
Mr. Peden came above the deck and said, ‘Why are ye discouraged?
You need not fear, there will neither thumbkins nor bootkins
come here: lift up your hearts and heads, for the day of your
redemption draweth near; if we were once at London, we will be set
at liberty.’--And when sailing on the voyage, praying publicly,
he said, ‘Lord, such is the enemies hatred at thee and malice
at us for thy sake, that they will not let us stay in thy land
of Scotland, to serve thee, though some of us have nothing but
the canopy of thy heavens above us, and the earth to tread upon;
but, Lord, we bless thy name, that will cut short our voyage, and
frustrate thy enemies of their wicked design, that they will not
get us where they intend; and some of us shall go richer home than
we came from home.’ James Pride, who lived in Fife, an honest man,
being one of them, he said many times, he could assert the truth of
this, for he came safely home; and beside other things, he bought
two cows: and before that, he never had one. I had these accounts
both from the foresaid James Kay and Robert Punton, a known public
man, worthy of all credit, who was also under the same sentence,
and lived in the parish of Dalmeny, near Queensferry.

9. When they arrived at London, the skipper who received them
at Leith, was to carry them no further. The skipper who was to
receive them there, and carry them to Virginia, came to see them,
they being represented to him as thieves, robbers, and evil-doers;
but when he found they were all grave Christian men, banished for
Presbyterian principles, he said he would sail the sea with none
such. In this confusion: that the one skipper would not receive
them, and the other would keep them no longer, being expensive to
maintain them they were all set at liberty. Some reported that both
skippers got compliments from friends at London; however, it is
certain they were all set free without any imposition of bonds or
oaths; and friends at London, and on their way homewards, through
England shewed much kindness unto them.

10. That dismal day, June 22d. 1679, at Bothwel-bridge, that the
Lord’s people fell, and fled before the enemy, he was forty miles
distant, near the border, and kept himself retired until the middle
of the day, that some friends said to him, ‘Sir, the people are
waiting for sermon.’ He said, ‘Let the people go to their prayers;
for me, I neither can nor will preach any this day; for our friends
are fallen, and fled before the enemy at Hamilton; and they are
hanging and hashing them down, and their blood is running like
water!’

11. After this, he was preaching in Galloway: in the forenoon he
prayed earnestly for the prisoners taken at and about Bothwel;
but in the afternoon, when he began to pray for them, he halted
and said, ‘Our friends at Edinburgh, the prisoners, have done
something to save their lives that shall not do with them, for the
sea-billows shall be many of their winding-sheets; and the few of
them that escape, shall not be useful to God in their generation.’
Which was sadly verified thereafter. That which the greatest part
of these prisoners did, was the taking of that bond, commonly
called the Black Bond, after Bothwel, wherein they acknowledged
their appearance in arms, for the defence of the gospel and their
own lives, to be rebellion; and engaged themselves never to make
any more opposition: upon the doing of which, these perfidious
enemies promised them life and liberty. This with the cursed and
subtile arguments and advices of ministers, who went into the New
Yard, where they were prisoners, particularly Mr. Hugh Kennedy, Mr.
William Crighton, Mr. Edward Jamieson, and Mr. George Johnston;
these took their turn in the yard where the prisoners were,
together with a letter that was sent from that Erastian meeting
of ministers, met at Edinburgh in August 1679, for the acceptance
of a third indulgence, with a cautionary bond. Notwithstanding
of the enemies’ promise, and the unhappy advice of ministers
not indulged, after they were ensnared in this foul compliance,
they banished 255, whereof 205 perished in the Orkney-sea. This
foul step, as some of them told, both in their life, and when
dying, lay heavy upon them all their days; and that these unhappy
arguments and advices of ministers, prevailed more with them than
the enemies’ promise of life and liberty. In August 1679, fifteen
of the Bothwel-prisoners got indictments of death. Mr. Edward
Jamieson, a worthy Presbyterian minister, as Mr. Woodrow calls him,
was sent from that Erastian meeting of ministers into the Tolbooth
to these fifteen, who urged the lawfulness of taken the bond to
save their lives; and the refusal of it would be a reflection to
religion, and the cause they had appeared for, and a throwing away
their lives, for which their friends would not be able to vindicate
them. He prevailed with thirteen of them, which soured in the
stomachs of some of those thirteen, and lay heavy upon them both
in their life and death. The prisoners taken at and about the time
of Bothwel, were reckoned about fifteen hundred. The faithful Mr.
John Blackader did write to these prisoners, dissuading them from
that foul compliance; and some worthy persons of these prisoners,
whom he wrote to, said to me with tears, that they slighted his
advice, and swallowed the unhappy advices of these ministers who
were making peace with the enemies of God, and followed their foul
steps, for which they would go mourning to their graves. I heard
the same Mr. Blackader preach his last public sermon before falling
into the enemies’ hands in the night-time in the fields, in the
parish of Livingstone, upon the side of the Muir, at New-house,
on the 23d. of March, after Bothwel, where he lectured upon Micah
iv. from the 9th. verse, where he asserted, That the nearer the
delivery, our pains and showers would come thicker and sorer upon
us; and that we had been long in the fields, but ere we were
delivered, we would go down to Babylon; that either Popery would
overspread this land, or be at the breaking in upon us like on
inundation of water. And preached upon that text, ‘Let no man be
moved with these afflictions, for ye yourselves know, that ye are
appointed thereunto.’ Where he insisted on what moving and shaking
dispensations the Lord had exercised his people with in former
ages, especially that man of God, that went to Jeroboam at Bethel,
and delivered his commission faithfully, and yet was turned out
of the way by an old lying prophet; how moving and stumbling the
manner of his death was to all Israel! And earnestly requested us
to take good heed to what ministers we heard, and what advice we
followed. When he prayed, he blessed the Lord that he was free of
both band and rope: and that he was as clearly willing to hold up
the public blest standard of the gospel as ever: And said, The Lord
rebuke, give repentance and forgiveness to these ministers that
persuaded these prisoners to take that bond. For their perishing by
sea was more moving and shocking to him, than if some thousands of
them had been slain in the field. He was thereafter taken, the 6th.
of April, by Major Johnston, in Edinburgh, and detained prisoner
in the Bass, where he died. As the interest of Christ lay near his
heart through his life, amongst his last words he said, The Lord
will defend his own cause.

17. Shortly after that sad strode at Bothwel, he went to Ireland,
but did not stay long at that time. In his travels through
Galloway, he came to a house, and looking in the goodman’s face,
he said, ‘They call you an honest man, but if you be so, you look
not like it, you will not long keep that name, but will discover
yourself to be what you are.’ And shortly after, he was made to
flee for sheep-stealing. In that short time he was in Ireland,
the Governor required of all Presbyterian ministers that were in
Ireland, that they should give it under their hand, that they had
no accession to the late rebellion at Bothwel-bridge, in Scotland,
and that they did not approve of it; which the most part did; and
sent Mr. Thomas Gowans, a Scotsman, and one Mr. Paton, from the
north of Ireland to Dublin, to present it to the Lord Lieutenant:
the which when Mr. Peden heard, he said, Mr. Gowans and his brother
Mr. Paton are sent and gone the devil’s errand but God will arrest
them by the gate. And accordingly, Mr. Gowans, by the way, was
struck with a sore sickness, and Mr. Paton fell from his horse, and
broke or crushed his leg; and both of them were detained beyond
expectation. I had this account from some worthy Christians when I
was in Ireland.

18. In the year 1682. he married John Brown in Kyle, at his own
house in Priesthall, that singular Christian, upon Marion Weir.
After marriage; he said to the bride, Marion, you have got a good
man to be your husband, but you will not enjoy him long: prize his
company, and keep linen by you for his winding-sheet, for you will
need it when you are not looking for it, and it will be a bloody
one. This came sadly to pass in the beginning of May, 1685, as
afterwards shall appear.

19. After this, in the year 1682, he went to Ireland again, and
came to the house of William Steel, in Glenwharry, in the county
of Antrim; he enquired at Mrs. Steel if she wanted a servant for
threshing victual? She said they did, and enquired what his wages
were a-day, or a-week. He said, the common rate was a common
rule; to which she assented.--At night he was put to bed, in the
barn, with the servant-lad; and that night he spent in prayer and
groaning, up and down the barn. On the morrow he threshed victual
with the lad, and the next night he spent the same way. The second
day, in the morning, the lad said to his mistress, this man sleeps
none, but groans and prays all night; I get no sleep for him: he
threshes very well, and is not sparing of himself, tho’ I think he
has not been used with it, for he can do nothing to the botteling
and ordering of the barn; and when I put the barn in order, he
goes to such a place, and there he prays for the afflicted Church
of Scotland, and names so many in the furnace.--He wrought the
second day, and his mistress watched and overheard him praying, as
the lad had said.--At night she desired her husband to enquire if
he was a minister, which he did, and desired him to be free with
him, and he should not only be no enemy to him, but a friend. Mr.
Peden said, he was not ashamed of his office; and gave an account
of his circumstances. He was no more set to work, nor to lie with
the lad; and he staid a considerable time in that place, and was
a blessed instrument in the conversion of some, and civilizing of
others, though that place was noted for a wild rude people, and the
fruit of his labour appears unto this day. There was a servant-lass
in that house, that he could not look upon but with frowns: and
sometimes, when at family-worship, he said, pointing to her with
a frowning countenance. You come from the barn and from the byre
reeking in your lusts, and sits down among us; we do not want you,
nor none such. At last he said to William Steel and his wife, Put
that unhappy lass from your house, for she will be a stain to your
family, for she is with child, and will murder it, and will be
punished for the same. Which accordingly came to pass, and she was
burnt at Carrickfergus, which is the punishment of murderers of
children there. I had this account from John Muirhead, who staid
much in that house, and other Christian people, when in Ireland.

20. After this, he longed to be out of Ireland, through the
fearful apprehensions of that dismal day of rebellion in Ireland,
that came upon it four years thereafter, and that he might take
part with the sufferers in Scotland. He came near the coast one
morning: John Muirhead came to him; lying within a hedge: he said,
Have you any news, John? John said, There is great fear of the
Irish rising. He said, no, no, John, the time of their arising is
not yet; but they will rise, and dreadful will it be at last. He
was long detained waiting for a bark, not daring to go to public
parts, but to some remote creek of the sea. Alexander Gordon of
Kinstuir, in Galloway, had agreed with one, but Mr. Peden would
not sail the sea with him, having some foresight of what he
did prove afterwards.--In the beginning of August before this,
Kinstuir was relieved at Enterken-path, going from Dumfries to
Edinburgh prisoner; when the news of it came to Ireland, our Scots
sufferers, their acquaintance, were glad of the news, especially
that Kinstuir had escaped. Mr. Peden said, What means all this
Kinstuiring?--There is some of them relieved there, that one of
them is worth many of him; for ye will be ashamed of him ere all be
done. Being in this strait, he said to Robert Wark, an old worthy
Christian, worthy of credit, Robert, go and take such a man with
you and the first Bark ye can find, compel them, for they will be
like the dogs in Egypt, not one of them will move their tongue
against you. Accordingly Robert and his comrade found it so and
brought her to that secret place where he was. When Robert and his
comrade came and told him, he was glad and very kind and free; but
he seemed under a cloud at that time. He said lads, I have lost
my prospect wherewith I was wont to look over to the bloody land,
and tell you and others what enemies and friends were doing; the
devil and I puddles and rides time-about upon one another: but
if I were uppermost again, I shall ride hard, and spurgaw well.
I have been praying for a swift passage over to the sinful land,
come of us what will: and now Alexander Gordon is away with my
prayer-wind; but it were good for the remnant in Scotland he never
saw it; for as the Lord lives, he shall wound that interest ere he
go off the stage.--This sadly came to pass in his life, and was
a reproach to it at his death. A little before they came off, he
baptised a child to John Maxwell, a Glasgow man, who was fled ever
from the persecution: in his discourse before baptism, he burst
out into a rapture, foretelling that black day that was to come
upon Ireland, and sad days to Scotland, and after all there was to
come good days. Mrs. Maxwell, or Mary Elphingston, the mother of
the child, yet alive in Glasgow, told me this, That in the time
he was asserting these things, she was thinking and wondering what
ground of assurance he had for them, when he cried aloud shaking
his hand at her, woman, thou art thinking and wondering within
thyself, whether I be speaking these things out of the visions
of my own head, or if I be taught by the Spirit of God; I tell
thee, woman, thou shalt live and see that I am not mistaken. She
told me, that she was very lately delivered, and out of her great
desire to have her child baptised before he came off, that she
took travail too soon; and being weak, and so surprised with his
telling her the thoughts of her heart, that she was in danger of
falling off the chair. At this exercise also he told them, that
he could not win off till he got this done, and this was all the
drink-money, he had left in Ireland, and to the family (pointing
to the landlord) for all the kindness he had met with from them.
After baptism they got breakfast; there was plenty of bread upon
the table, seeking a blessing, he put his hand beneath the bread,
and holding it up with much affection and tears, said, “Lord there
is a well covered table, and plenty of bread: but what comes of the
poor young, kindly, honest hearted lad Renwick, that shames us all,
in starving and holding up his fainting mother’s head, when of all
the children she has brought forth, there is none will avowedly
take her by the hand: and the poor, cold, hungry lads on the hills?
For honour of thine own cause, let them not starve: thou caused a
ravenous bird, greedy of flesh itself, to feed Elijah: and thou fed
thy people in the wilderness with angel’s food: and blessed a few
loaves and small fishes, and made them sufficient for many; and had
experience of want, weariness cold and hunger, and enemies daily
hunting for thy life, while in the world; look to them, and provide
for them.” The Waiters being advertised of the bark being in that
place, they and other people came upon them, which obliged them
that were to come off, to secure the Waiters and people altogether,
for fear of the garrison of Carrickfergus apprehending them, being
near to it, which obliged them to come off immediately, twenty-six
of our Scots sufferers came aboard, he stood upon the deck and
prayed, there being not the least wind, where he made a rehearsal
of times and places, when and where the Lord had heard and answered
them in the days of their distress and how they were in a great
strait.--Waving his hand to the west, from whence he desired the
wind, he said, ‘Lord give a loof-full of wind: fill the sails Lord
and give us a fresh gale, and let us have a swift passage over to
the bloody land, come of us what will.’--John Muirhead, Robert
Wark, and others who were present, told me, that when he began to
pray, the sails were all hanging straight down, but ere he ended,
they were all like blown bladders. They put out the Waiters and
other people and got a very swift and safe passage.--The twenty-six
Scots sufferers that were with him, having provided themselves
with arms, and being designed to return to Scotland, there being
then such a noise of killing; and the report was no greater than
the deed, it being then in the heat of killing time, in the end of
Febuary 1685. when at exercise in the bark, he said, ‘Lord thou
knowest these lads are hot spirited, lay an arrest upon them, that
they may not appear; their time is not yet; though Monmouth and
Argyle be coming, they will work no deliverance.’ At that time
there was no report of their coming, for they came not for ten
weeks thereafter.--In the morning after they landed, he lectured
before they parted, sitting upon a brae-side, where he had fearful
threatenings against Scotland saying, the time was coming that
they might travel many miles in Galloway and Nithsdale, Ayr and
Clydesdale, and not see a reeking house, nor hear a cock crow.

28. When the day of his death drew near, and not being able to
travel, he came to his brother’s house, in the parish of Sorn,
where he was born. He caused dig a cave with a saughen bush
covering the mouth of it, near to his brother’s house and the
enemies came and searched the house narrowly many times. In the
time that he was in this cave, he said to some friends, 1. That
God shall make Scotland a desolation. 2. There shall be a remnant
in the land, whom God should spare and hide. 3. They should lie
in holes and caves of the earth, and be supplied with meat and
drink: And when they come out of their holes, they shall not have
freedom to walk, for stumbling on the dead corpses. 4. A stone
cut of a mountain, should come down, and God shall be avenged on
the great ones of the earth, and the inhabitants of the land, for
their wickedness, and then the church should come forth with a
bonny bairn-time of young ones at her back. He wished that the
Lord’s people might lie hid in their caves, as if they were not in
the world, for nothing would do it, until God appeared with his
judgments, and they that wan through the bitter and sharp, short
storm, by the sword of the Frenches, and a set of unhappy men,
taking part with them, then there would be a spring-tide day of
the plenty, purity and power of the gospel: Giving them that for a
sign, If he were but once buried, they might be in doubts; but if
he were oftener buried than once, they might be persuaded that all
he had said would come to pass: And earnestly desired them to take
his corpse out to Airdsmoss, and bury them beside Richy (meaning
Mr. Cameron) that he might get rest in his grave, for he had gotten
little through his life; but he said he knew they would not do it.

29. Within forty-eight hours he died, January 28th. 1686, being
past sixty years; and was buried in the Laird of Afflect’s Isle.
The enemies got notice of his death and burial, and sent a troop of
dragoons, and lifted his corpse and carried him to Cumnock-gallows
foot, and buried him there (after being forty days in the grave)
beside others. His friends thereafter laid a grave-stone above him,
with this inscription:

  HERE LIES
  MR. ALEXANDER PEDEN,
  A Faithful Minister of the Gospel,
  at Glenluce,
  Who departed this life January 28, 1686,
  And was raised after six weeks
  Out of his Grave,
  And buried here out of contempt.


FINIS.




  THE LIFE

  AND

  WONDERFUL PROPHECIES

  OF

  DONALD CARGILL.

  Who was Executed at the Cross
  of Edinburgh, on the 26th July, 1680.
  For his adherence to the Covenant,
  and Work of
  REFORMATION

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE

LIFE OF

MR DONALD CARGILL.


Mr Cargill seems to have been born some time about the year 1610.
He was eldest son of a most respected family in the parish of
Rattray. After he had been some time in the schools of Aberdeen,
he went to St Andrew’s, where having perfected his course of
philosophy, his father pressed upon him much to study divinity,
in order for the ministry; but he thought the work was too great
for his weak shoulders, and requested to command him to any other
employment he pleased. But his father still continuing to urge
him, he resolved to set apart a day of private fasting, to seek
the Lord’s mind therein. And after much wrestling with the Lord by
prayer, the third chapter of Ezekiel, and chiefly these words in
the first verse, “Son of man, eat this roll and go speak unto the
house of Israel”, made a strong impression on his mind, so that he
durst no longer refuse his father’s desire, but dedicated himself
wholly unto that office.

After this, he got a call to the Barony Church of Glasgow, It
was so ordered by Divine providence, that the very first text
the presbytery ordered him to preach upon, was these words in
the third of Ezekiel, already mentioned, by which he was more
confirmed, that he had God’s call to this parish. This parish had
been long vacant, by reason that two ministers of the Resolution
party, viz. Messrs Young and Blair, and still opposed the
settlement of such godly men as had been called by the people. But
in reference to Mr Cargill’s call, they were in God’s providence,
much bound up from their wonted opposition. Here Mr Cargill,
perceiving the lightness and unconcerned behaviour of the people
under the word, was much discouraged thereat, so that he resolved
to return home, and not accept the call, which, when he was urged
by some godly ministers not to do, and his reason asked, he
answered they are a rebellious people. The ministers solicited him
to stay, but in vain. But when the horse was drawn, and he just
going to begin his journey, being in the house of Mr Durham, when
he had saluted several of his Christian friends that came to see
him take horse, as he was taking farewell of a certain godly woman,
she said to him, “Sir, you have promised to preach on Thursday,
and have you appointed a meal for poor starving people, and will
you go away and not give it? If you do, the curse of God will go
with you.” This so moved him, that he durst not go away as he
intended; but sitting down, desired her and others to pray for him.
So he remained and was settled in that parish, where he continued
to exercise his ministry with great success, to the unspeakable
satisfaction both of his own parish, and all the godly that heard
and knew him, until that, by the unhappy Restoration of Charles
II. Prelacy was again restored.

Upon the 26th of May following, the day consecrated in
commemoration of the said Restoration, he had occasion to preach in
his own church, it being his ordinary week-day’s preaching, when
he saw an unusual throng of people come to hear him, thinking he
had preached in compliance with that solemnity. Upon entering the
pulpit, he said, ‘We are not come here to keep this day upon the
account for which others keep it. We thought once to have blessed
the day, wherein the King came home again, but now we think we
shall have reason to curse it; and if any of you come here in
order to the solemnizing of this day, we desire you to remove.’
And enlarging upon these words in the 9th of Hosea, Rejoice not, O
Israel, &c. he said, ‘This is the first step of our going a-whoring
from God; and whoever of the Lord’s people this day are rejoicing,
their joy will be like the crackling of thorns under a pot, it
will soon be turned to mourning; he (meaning the king) will be
the wofullest sight ever the poor church of Scotland saw; wo,
wo, wo unto him, his name shall stink while the world stands for
treachery, tyranny, and lechery.’

This did exceedingly enrage the malignant party against him, so
that being hotly pursued, he was obliged to abscond, remaining
sometimes in private houses, and sometimes lying all night without,
among broom near the city, yet never omitting any proper occasion
of private preaching, catechising, and visiting of families, and
other ministerial duties, but at length, when the churches were
all vacated of Presbyterians by an act of Council, 1662, Middleton
sent a band of soldiers to apprehend him, who, coming to the
church, found him not, he having providentially just stepped out of
the one door a minute before they came in at the other; whereupon
they took the keys of the church door with them, and departed.--In
the mean while the Council passed an act of confinement banishing
him to the north side of the Tay, under penalty of being
imprisoned, and prosecuted as a seditious person.--But this
sentence he no ways regarded.

During this time, partly by grief for the ruin of God’s work in the
land, and partly by the toils and inconveniences of his labours
and accommodation, his voice became so broken, that he could not
be heard by many together, which was a sore exercise to him, and
discouragement to preach in the fields; but one day Mr Blackatter
coming to preach near Glasgow, he essayed to preach with him, and
standing on a chair, as his custom was, he lectured on Is. xliv.
3. “I will pour water on him that is thirsty, &c.” The people were
much discouraged, knowing his voice to be sore broken, lest they
should not have heard by reason of the great confluence. But it
pleased the Lord to loose his tongue, and to restore his voice to
such a distinct clearness, that none could easily exceed him; and
not only his voice, but his spirit was so enlarged, and such a door
of utterance given him, that Mr Blackatter, succeeding him, said to
the people, ‘Ye that have such preaching, have no need to invite
strangers to preach to you; make good use of your mercy.’ After
this he continued to preach without the city, a great multitude
attending and profiting by his ministry, being wonderfully
preserved in the midst of dangers, the enemy several times sending
out to watch him, and catch something from his mouth whereof they
might accuse him, &c.

In October 1665, they made a public search for him in the city.
But he, being informed, took horse, and rode out of town, and at
a narrow pass of the way, he met a good number of musqueteers. As
he passed them, turning to another way on the right-hand, one of
them asked him, Sir, what o’clock is it? he answered, It is six.
Another of them knowing his voice, said, There is the man we are
seeking.--Upon hearing this, he put spurs to his horse, and so
escaped.

For about three years he usually resided in the house of one
Margaret Craig, a very godly woman, where he lectured morning
and evening to such as came to hear him. And tho’ they searched
strictly for him here, yet providence so ordered it, that he
was either casually or purposely absent, for the Lord was often
so gracious to him, that he left him not without some notice of
approaching hazard. Thus, one Sabbath, as he was going to Woodside
to preach, as he was about to mount his horse, having one foot in
the stirrup, he turned about to his man, and said, I must not go
yonder to-day.--And in a little a party of the enemy came there in
quest of him; but missing the mark they aimed at, they fell upon
the people, by apprehending and imprisoning several of them.

Another of his remarkable escapes was at a march made for him in
the city, where they came to his chamber, and found him not, being
providentially in another house, that night.--But what is most
remarkable, being one day preaching privately in the house of one
Mr Callander, they came and beset the house; the people put him and
another into a window, closing the window up with books. The search
was so strict, that they searched the very ceiling of the house,
until one of them fell through the lower loft.--Had they removed
but one of the books, they would certainly have found him. But the
Lord so ordered that they did it not; for as one of the soldiers
was about to take up one of them, the maid cried to the commander,
that he was going to take her master’s books, and he was ordered to
let them be. Thus narrowly he escaped this danger.

Thus he continued until the 23d of November 1667, that the Council,
upon information of a breach of his confinement, cited him to
appear before them on the 11th of January thereafter. But when he
was apprehended, and compeared before the Council and strictly
examined, wherein he was most singularly strengthened to bear
faithful testimony to his Master’s honour, and his persecuted cause
and truths; yet by the interposition of some persons of quality,
his own friends, and his wife’s relations, he was dismissed,
and presently returned to Glasgow, and there performed all the
ministerial duties.

Some time before Bothwell, notwithstanding all the searches
that were made for him by the enemy, which were both strict and
frequent, he preached publicly for eighteen Sabbath-days to
multitudes, consisting of several thousands, within a little more
than a quarter of a mile of the city of Glasgow; yea, so near it,
that the psalms, when singing, were heard through several parts, of
it; and yet all this time uninterrupted.

At Bothwell, being taken by the enemy, and struck down to the
ground with a sword, seeing nothing but present death for him
having received several dangerous wounds in the head, one of the
soldiers asked his name; he told him it was Donald Cargill; another
asked him, if he was a minister? He answered, he was; whereupon
they let him go. When his wounds were examined, he feared to ask if
they were mortal, desiring, in admission to God, to live, judging
that the Lord had yet further work for him to accomplish.

Some time after the battle at Bothwell, he was pursued from his
own chamber out of town, and forced to go through several thorn
hedges. But he was no sooner out, than he saw a troop of dragoons
just opposite to him; back he could not go, soldiers being posted
every where to catch him; upon which he went forward, near by
the troop, who looked to him, and he to them, until he got past.
But coming to the place of the water at which he intended to go
over, he saw another troop standing on the other side, who called
to him but he made them no answer. And going about a mile up the
water, he escaped, and preached at Langside next Sabbath, without
interruption. At another time, being in a house beset with
soldiers, he went through the midst of them, they thinking it was
the goodman of the house and escaped.

After Bothwell, he fell into a deep exercise anent his call to the
ministry; but, by the grace and goodness of God, he soon emerged
out of that, and also got much light anent the duty of the day,
being a faithful contender against the enemy’s usurped power,
and against the sinful compliance of ministers, in accepting
the indulgence, with indemnities, oaths, bonds, and all other
corruptions.

There was a certain woman in Rutherglen, about two miles from
Glasgow, who, by the instigation of some, both ministers and
professors, was persuaded to advice her husband to go but once to
hear the curate, to prevent the family being reduced; which she
prevailed with him to do. But going the next day after to milk her
cows, two or three of them dropt down dead at her feet, and Satan,
as she conceived, appeared unto her; which cast her under sad and
sore exercises and desertion; so that she was brought to question
her interest in Christ, and all that had formerly passed betwixt
God and her soul, and was often tempted to destroy herself, and
sundry times attempted it: Being before known to be an eminent
Christian, she was visited by many Christians; but without success:
still crying out she was undone; she had denied Christ, and he had
denied her. After continuing a long time in this exercise, she
cried for Mr Cargill, who came to her, but found her distemper
so strong, that for several visits he was obliged to leave her
as he found her to his no small grief. However, after setting
some days apart on her behalf, he at last came again to her; but
finding her no better, still rejecting all comfort, still crying
out, that she had no interest in the mercy of God, or merits of
Christ, but had sinned the unpardonable sin; he, looking in her
face for a considerable time, took out his Bible, and naming her,
said, “I have this day a commission from my Lord and Master, to
renew the marriage contract betwixt you and him; and if ye will
not consent, I am to require your subscription on this Bible, that
you are willing to quit all right, interest in, or pretence unto
him:” and then he offered her pen and ink for that purpose. She was
silent for some time; but at last cried out, “O! salvation is come
unto this house. I take him; I take him on his own terms, as he is
offered unto me by his faithful ambassador.” From that time her
bands were loosed.

One time Mr Cargill, Mr Walter Smith, and some other Christian
friends, being met in a friend’s house in Edinburgh, one of the
company told him of the general bonding of the Western gentlemen
for suppressing field meetings, and putting all out of their
grounds who frequented them. After sitting silent for some time, he
answered, with several heavy sighs and groans, “The enemy have been
long filling up the cup; and ministers and professors must have
time to fill up their’s also; and it shall not be full till enemies
and they be clasped in one another’s arms; and then, as the Lord
lives, he will bring the wheel of his wrath and justice over them
altogether.”

Some time after the beginning of the year 1680, he retired toward
the Frith of Forth, where he continued until that scuffle at
Queensferry, where worthy Haugh-head was killed, and he sorely
wounded. But escaping, a certain woman found him in a private
place, to the south of the town, and tying up his wounds with her
head-cloths, conducted him to the house of one Robert Runtens, in
Carlowrie, where a surgeon dressed his wounds and Mrs Puntens gave
him some warm milk, and he lay in their barn all night. From thence
he went to the south, and next Sabbath preached at Cairnhill,
somewhere adjacent to Loudon, in his blood and wounds; for no
danger could stop him from going about doing good. His text was in
Heb. xi. 32. And what shall I more say, for time would fail me to
tell of Gideon, &c. At night, some persons said to him, We think,
Sir, preaching and praying go best with you when your danger and
distress are greatest. He said, it had been so, and he hoped it
would be so, the more that enemies and others did thurst at him
that he might fall, the more sensibly the Lord had helped him; and
then (as it had been to himself) he repeated these words, The Lord
is my strength and song, and has become my salvation, in the 118th
Psalm, which was the psalm he sung upon the scaffold.

After this, he and Mr Richard Cameron met and preached together in
Dermeid-muir, and other places, until that Mr Cameron was slain
at Airs-moss, and then he went north, where, in the month of
September following, he had a most numerous meeting at the Torwood,
near Stirling, where he pronounced the sentence of excommunication,
against some of the most violent persecutors of that day, as
formally as the present state of things could then permit. Some
time before this, it is said, he was very remote, and spoke very
little in company; only to some he said, he had atout to give with
the trumpet that the Lord had put in his hand, that would sound in
the ears of many in Britain, and other places in Europe also. It is
said, that no body knew what he was to do that morning, except Mr
Walter Smith, to whom he imparted the thoughts of his heart. When
he began, some friends feared he would be shot. His landlord, in
whose house he had been that night, cast his coat and ran for it.
In the forenoon, he lectured on Ezek. xxi. 25. &c. and preached
on 1 Cor. v. 13. and then discoursed some time on the nature of
excommunication, and then proceeded to the sentence: after which,
in the afternoon, he preached from Lam. iii. 31, 32. For the Lord
will not cast off for ever.

The next Lord’s day, he preached at Fallowhill, in the parish
of Livingstone. In the preface, he said, “I know I am and will
be condemned by many, for excommunicating those wicked men, but
condemn me who will, I know I am approven of by God, and am
persuaded, that what I have done on earth, is ratified in heaven;
for, if ever I knew the mind of God, and was clear in my call to
any piece of my generation-work, it was that. And I shall give you
two signs, that ye may know I am in no delusion; (1.) If some of
these men do not find that sentence binding upon them, ere they go
off the stage, and be obliged to confess it, &c. (2.) If these men
die the ordinary death of men, then God hath not spoken by me.”

About the 22d of October following, a long and severe proclamation
was issued out against him and his followers, wherein a reward
of 5000 merks was offered for apprehending him, &c.--Next month,
Governor Middleton, having been frustrated in his design upon Mr
Cargill at Queensferry, laid another plot for him, by consulting
one James Henderson in Ferry, who, by forging and signing letters,
in the name of Bailie Adam in Culross, and some other serious
Christians in Fife, for Mr Cargill to come over, and preach to them
at the hill of Beith. Accordingly, Henderson went to Edinburgh
with the letters, and, after a most diligent search, found him
in the West Bow. Mr Cargill being willing to answer the call,
Henderson proposed to go before, and have a boat, ready at the
Ferry when they came; and that he might know them, he desired to
see Mr Cargill’s cloth, Mr Skeen and Mr Boig being in the same
room. In the mean time, he had Middleton’s soldiers lying at the
Mutton-hole, about three miles from Edinburgh. Mr Skeen, Archibald
Stuart, Mrs Muir, and Marion Hervey, took the way before, on foot:
Mr Cargill and Mr Boig being to follow on horseback. Whenever they
came to the place, the soldiers spied them; but Mrs Muir escaped
and went and stopped Mr Cargill and Mr Boig, who fled back to
Edinburgh.

After this remarkable escape, Mr Cargill, seeing nothing but the
violent flames of treachery and tyranny against him, above all
others, retired for about three months to England, where the Lord
blessed his labours to the conviction and edification of many. In
the time of his absence that delusion of the Gibbites arose, from
one John Gib sailor In Borrow-stounness, who, with other three
men, and twenty six women, vented and maintained the most strange
delusions. Some time after, Mr Cargill returned from England, and
was at no small pains to reclaim them, but with little success.
After his last conference with them, at Darngavel, in Cambusnethen
parish, he came next Sabbath, and preached at the Underbank wood,
below Lanark, and from thence to Loudon-hill, where he preached
upon a fast day, being the 5th of May. Here he intended only to
have preached once, and to have baptized some children. His text
was, ‘No man that hath followed me in the regeneration, &c.’ When
sermon was over, and the children baptized, more children came up;
whereupon friends pressed him to preach in the afternoon; which he
did, from these words, ‘Weep not for me,’ &c. In the mean while the
enemy at Glasgow getting notice of this meeting, seized all the
horses in and about the town, that they could come by, and mounted
in quest of him; yea, such was their haste and fury, that one of
the soldiers, who happened to be behind the rest, riding furiously
down the street called the Stockwell, at mid-day, rode over a
child, and killed her on the spot. Just as Mr Cargill was praying
at the close, a lad alarmed them of the enemy’s approach. They
having no sentinels that day which was not their ordinary, were
surprised, so that some of them who had been at Pentland, Bothwell,
Airs-moss, and other dangers, were never so seized with fear, some
of the women, throwing their children from them. In this confusion
Mr Cargill was running straight on the enemy; but Gavin Wotherspoon
and others haled him to the moss, unto which the people fled. The
dragoons fired hard upon them, but there were none either killed or
taken that day.

About this time, some spoke to Mr Cargill of his preaching and
praying short. They said, “O Sir, it is long betwixt meals, and we
are in a starving condition; all is good, sweet, and wholesome,
that you deliver, but why do you so straiten us?” He said, “Ever
since I bowed a knee in good earnest to pray, I never durst preach,
and pray with my gift; and when my heart is not affected, and comes
not up with my mouth, I always think it time to quit it. What comes
not from the heart, I have little hope it will go to the hearts of
others:” Then he repeated these words in the 51st psalm, “Then will
I teach transgressors thy way, &c.”

From Loudon hill he took a tour through Ayrshire to Carrick and
Galloway, preaching, baptizing, and marrying some people; but staid
not long until he returned to Clydesdale. He designed, after his
return, to have preached one day at Tinto-hill, but the Lady of
St John’s Kirk gave it out to be at Home Common. He being in the
house of John Liddel, near Tinto, went out to spend the Sabbath
morning by himself; and seeing the people all passing by, he
inquired the reason; which being told, he rose and followed them
five miles. The morning being warm, (about the 1st of June,) and
the heights steep, he was very much fatigued before he got to the
place, where a man gave him a drink of water out of his bonnet,
and another between sermons; this being the best entertainment
he got that day, for he had tasted nothing in the morning. Here
he lectured on the 6th of Isaiah, and preached on these words,
“Be not high minded, but fear, &c.” From thence he went to Fyfe,
and baptised many children, and preached one day at Daven common,
and then returned to the Benry-bridge in Cambusnethan, where
he received a call from the hands of two men, to come back to
Galloway, but got it not answered.

Mr Cargill in that short time, had run very fast towards his end,
which now hastens apace. Having left the Benry-bridge, he preached
one day at Auchingilloch, and then came to preach his last sermon
on Dunsyre common, between Clydesdale and Lothian, upon the text
Is. xxvi. 20. “Come my people and enter into your chambers, &c.”

Some time that night, through the persuasion of Mr Smith and Mr
Boig, he went with the Lady of St. John’s Kirk, as far as Covington
mill, to the house of one Andrew Fisher. In the mean time, James
Irvine of Bonshaw, having got a general commission, marched with a
party of dragoons from Kilbride, and next morning, by sun-rising,
came to St John’s Kirk, and having searched it, he searched also
the house of one Thomson, and then came to Covington-mill, and
there apprehended him, Mr Smith, and Mr Boig. Bonshaw, when he
found them, cried out, O blessed Bonshaw! and blessed day that ever
I was born! that has found such a prize! a prize of 5000 merks for
apprehending him this morning! They marched hard to Lanark and put
them in jail, until they got some refreshment and then brought
them out in haste, got horses and set the prisoners on their bare
backs. Bonshaw tied Mr Cargill’s feet below the horse’s belly, with
his own hand, very hard; at which this man looked down to him, and
said, “Why do you tie me so hard, your wickedness is great. You
will not long escape the just judgement of God; and, if I be not
mistaken it will seize you in this very place.” Which accordingly
next year came to pass: for having got this price of blood, one of
his comrades, in a rage ran him through with a sword at Lanark:
and his last words were, “G--d d----n my soul eternally, for I am
gone.” Mischief shall hunt the violent man.

They came to Glasgow in haste, fearing a rescue of the prisoners:
and while waiting at the tolbooth, till the magistrates came to
receive them, one John Nisbet, the Archbishop’s factor, said to Mr
Cargill in ridicule, three times over, Will you give us one word
more? (alluding to an expression he used sometimes when preaching);
to whom Mr Cargill said with regret, “Mock not, lest your lands be
made strong. The day is coming, when you shall not have one word
to say though you would.” This also came quickly to pass; for,
not many days after, he fell suddenly ill, and for three days his
tongue swelled, and though he was most earnest to speak, yet he
could not command one word, and died in great torment, and seeming
terror.

From Glasgow they were taken to Edinburgh, and, July 15th, were
brought before the Council. Chancellor Rothes (being one of those
whom he excommunicated at Torwood) raged against him, threatening
him with torture and a violent death. To whom he said, “My Lord
Rothes, forbear to threaten me, for die what death I will, your
eyes shall not see it.”--Which accordingly came to pass; for he
died the morning of that day, in the afternoon of which Mr Cargill
was executed.

When before the Council, he was asked, if he acknowledged the
King’s authority, &c. he answered as the magistrate’s authority is
now established by act of parliament, and explanatory act, that
he denied the same. Being also examined anent the excommunication
at Torwood, he declined to answer, as being an ecclesiastical
matter, and they a civil judicatory. He owned the lawfulness of
defensive arms, in cases of necessity, and denied that those that
rose at Bothwell, &c. were rebels: and being interrogated anent the
Sanquhar declaration, he declined to give his judgment until he had
more time to consider the contents thereof. He further declared, he
could not give his sense of the killing of the Bishop; but that
the scriptures say, upon the Lord’s giving a call to a private man
to kill, he might do it lawfully; and gave the instances of Jael
and Phinehas. These were the most material points on which he was
examined.

While he was in prison, a gentlewoman who came to visit him, told
him, weeping, “That these Heaven daring enemies were contriving a
most violent death for him; some, a barrel with pikes to roll him
in; others an iron-chair, red-hot, to roll him in,” &c. But he
said, “Let you nor none of the Lord’s people be troubled for these
things, for all that they will get liberty to do to me, will be to
knit me up, cut me down, and chop off my old head, and then fare
them well; they have done with me, and with them for ever.”

He was again before the Council on the 19th, but refusing to
answer their questions, except anent the excommunication. There
was some motion made to spare him, as he was an old man, and send
him prisoner to the Bass during life; which motion being put to a
vote, was, by the casting vote of the Earl of Rothes, rejected; who
doomed him to the gallows, there to die like a traitor.

Upon the 26th he was brought before the justiciary, and indicted in
common form. His confession being produced in evidence against him,
he was brought in guilty of high treason, and condemned, with the
rest, to be hanged at the cross of Edinburgh, and his head placed
on the Nether Bow. When they came to these words in his indictment,
viz. having cast off all fear of God, &c. he caused the clerk to
stop, and, pointing to the Advocate, Sir George M’Kenzie, said,
“The man that hath caused that paper to be drawn up hath done it
contrary to the light of his own conscience, for he knoweth that I
have been a fearer of God from mine infancy; but that man, I say,
who took the Holy Bible in his hand, and said, It would never be
well with the land, until that book was destroyed, &c. I say, he is
the man that hath cast off all fear of God.” The Advocate stormed
at this, but could not deny the truth thereof.

When they got their sentence announced by sound of trumpet he said,
“That is a weary sound, but the sound of the last trumpet will be a
joyful sound to me, and all that will be found having on Christ’s
righteousness.”

Being come to the scaffold, he stood with his back to the ladder,
and desired the attention of the numerous spectators; and after
singing from the 16th verse of the 118th psalm, he began to speak
to three sorts of people; but being interrupted by the drum, he
said, with a smiling countenance, “Ye see we have no liberty to
speak what we would, but God knoweth our hearts.” As he proceeded,
he was again interrupted. Then, after a little pause or silence, he
began to exhort the people; and to show his own comfort in laying
down his life, in the assurance of a blessed eternity, expressing
himself in these words: “Now, I am as sure of my interest in
Christ, and peace with God, as all within this Bible and the Spirit
of God can make me; and I am fully persuaded, that this is the very
way for which I suffer, and that he will return gloriously to
Scotland; but it will be terrifying to many; therefore, I entreat
you, be not discouraged at the way of Christ and the cause for
which I am to lay down my life, and step into eternity, where my
soul shall be as full of him as it can desire to be; and now this
is the sweetest and most glorious day that ever mine eyes did see.
Enemies are now enraged against the way and people of God, but
ere long they shall be enraged one against another, to their own
confusion.” Here the drums did beat a third time. Then setting his
foot on the ladder, he said, “The Lord knows I go on this ladder
with less fear, and perturbation of mind, than ever I entered the
pulpit to preach.”--When up, he sat down, and said, “Now I am near
the getting of the crown, which shall be sure, for which I bless
the Lord, and desire all of you to bless him, that he hath brought
me here, and made me triumph over devils, men, and sin. They shall
wound me no more. I forgive all men the wrongs they have done me;
and I pray the sufferers may be kept from sin, and helped to know
their duty.” Then having prayed a little within himself, he lifted
up the napkin, and said, “Farewell all relations and friends in
Christ; farewell acquaintances and earthly enjoyments; farewell
reading and preaching, praying and believing, wanderings, reproach,
and sufferings. Welcome Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; into thy hands
I commit my spirit.” Then he prayed a little, and the executioner
turned him over as he was praying; and so he finished his course,
and the ministry that he had received of the Lord.

Take his character from Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston, who was his
contemporary. He was affectionate, affable, and tender-hearted, to
all such as he thought had any thing of the image of God in them;
sober and temperate in his diet, saying commonly, It was well won
that was won off the flesh; generous, liberal and most charitable
to the poor; a great hater of covetousness; a frequent visitor of
the sick; much alone, loving to be retired; but when about his
Master’s public work, laying hold of every opportunity to edify;
in conversation, still dropping what might minister grace to the
hearers: his countenance was edifying to beholders; often sighing
with deep groans: preaching in season, and out of season, upon all
hazards; ever the same in judgment and practice. From his youth,
he was much given to the duty of secret prayer, for whole nights
together; wherein it was observed, that, both in secret and in
families, he always sat straight upon his knees, with his hands
lifted up; and in this posture (as some took notice) he died with
the rope about his neck.

Besides his last speech and testimony, and several other religious
letters, with the lecture, sermon, and sentence of excommunication
at Torwood, which, are all published, there are also several other
sermons, and notes of sermons, interspersed among some peoples
hands, in print and manuscript, some of which have been published.
Yet if we may believe Walker, in his remarkable passages, &c. who
heard severals of them preached, they are nothing to what they
were when delivered; and however pathetical, yet doubtless far
inferior to what they would have been, had they been corrected and
published by the worthy author himself.


AN ACROSTIC ON HIS NAME.

      Most sweet and savoury is thy fame,
      And more renowned is thy name,
      Surely than any can record,
      Thou highly favoured of the Lord.
      Exalted thou on earth didst live;
      Rich grace to thee the Lord did give.

      During the time thou dwelt below,
      On in a course to heaven didst go.
      Not casten down with doubts and fears,
      Assur’d of heaven near thirty years.
      Labour thou didst in Christ’s vineyard;
      Diligent wast, no time thou spar’d.

      Christ’s standard thou didst bear alone,
      After others from it were gone.
      Right zeal for truth was found in thee,
      Great sinners censurd’st faithfully.
      In holding truth didst constant prove,
      Laidst down thy life out of true love.
        June 21, 1741.               W. W.


FINIS.




  NARRATIVE

  OF THE BATTLES

  OF

  DRUMCLOG,

  AND

  BOTHWELL BRIDGE.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE

BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG.

  The following Account of the Battles of Drumclog and Bothwell
  Bridge, is taken from an American Newspaper, entitled the
  ‘National Gazette.’ It is written by the Laird of Torfoot, an
  officer in the Presbyterian army, whose estate is at this day in
  the possession of his lineal descendants of the fifth generation.


“It was a fair Sabbath morning, 1st June 1679, that an assembly of
the Covenanters sat down on the heathy mountains of Drumclog. We
had assembled not to fight, but to worship the God of our fathers.
We were far from the tumult of cities.--The long dark heath waved
around us; and we disturbed no living creatures, saving the
pees-weep and the heather-cock. As usual, we had come armed. It was
for self-defence. For desperate and ferocious bands made bloody
raids through the country, and, pretending to put down treason,
they waged war against religion and morals. They spread ruin and
havoc over the face of bleeding Scotland.

The venerable Douglas had commenced the solemnities of the day.
He was expatiating on the execrable evils of tyranny. Our souls
were on fire at the rememberance of our country’s sufferings and
the wrongs of the church. In this moment of intense feeling, our
watchman posted on the neighbouring heights fired his carabine and
ran towards the congregation. He announced the approach of the
enemy. We raised our eyes to the minister. “I have done,” said
Douglas with his usual firmness--“You have got the theory,--now for
the practice; you know your duty; self-defence is always lawful.
But the enemy approaches.” He raised his eyes to heaven and uttered
a prayer--brief and emphatic--like the prayer of Richard Cameron,
“Lord, spare the green, and take the ripe.”

The officers collected their men, and placed themselves each at
the head of those of his own district. Sir Robert Hamilton placed
the foot in the centre, in three ranks. A company of horse, well
armed and mounted, was placed on the left; and a small squadron
also on the left. These were drawn back, and they occupied the more
solid ground; as well with a view to have a more solid footing, as
to arrest any flanking party that might take them on the wings. A
deep morass lay between us and the ground of the enemy. Our aged
men, our females and children retired; but they retired slowly.
They had the hearts and the courage of the female and children in
those days of intense religious feeling and of suffering. They
manefested more concern for the fate of relatives, for the fate
of the church than for their own personal safety. As Claverhouse
descended the opposite mountain, they retired to the rising ground
in the rear of our host. The aged men walked with their bonnets
in hand. Their long grey hairs waving to the breeze. They sang a
cheering psalm. The music was that of the well-known tune of “The
Martyrs;” and the sentiment breathed defiance.--The music floated
down on the wind,--our men gave them three cheers as they fell into
their ranks. Never did I witness such animation in the looks of
men. For me, my spouse and my little children were in the rear. My
native plains, and the hills of my father, far below, in the dale
of Aven, were in full view from the heights which we occupied. My
country seemed to raise her voice--the bleeding church seemed to
wail aloud. ‘And these,’ I said, as, Clavers and his troops winded
slowly down the dark mountain’s side, ‘these are the unworthy
slaves, and bloody executioners, by which the tyrant completes our
miseries.’

Hamilton here displayed the hero. His portly figure was seen
hastening from rank to rank. He inspired courage into our raw and
undisciplined troops. The brave Hackstone, and Hall of Haughhead,
stood at the head of the foot, and re-echoed the sentiments of
their Chief. Burley and Cleland had inflamed the minds of the
horsemen on the left to a noble enthusiasm. My small troop on the
right needed no exhortation; we were a band of brothers, resolved
to conquer or fall.

The trumpet of Clavers sounded a loud note of defiance--the
kettle drum mixed its tumultuous roll--they halted--they made a
long pause. We could see an officer with four file, conducting
15 persons from the ranks, to a knoll on their left. I could
perceive one in black: it was my friend King, the Chaplain at Lord
Cardross, who had been taken by Clavers at Hamilton. ‘Let them be
shot through the head,’ said Clavers, in his usual dry way, ‘if
they should offer to run away.’ We could see him view our position
with great care. His officers came around him. We soon learned
that he wished to treat with us. He never betrayed symptoms of
mercy or of justice, nor offered terms of reconciliation, unless
when he dreaded that he had met his match; and, even then, it was
only a manœuvre to gain time or to deceive. His flag approached
the edge of the bog. Sir Robert held a flag sacred; had it been
borne by Clavers himself he had honoured it. He demanded the
purpose for which he came. ‘I come,’ said he, ‘in the name of his
sacred Majesty, and of Colonel Graham, to offer you a pardon,
on condition that you lay down your arms, and deliver up your
ringleaders.’--‘Tell your officer,’ said Sir Robert, ‘that we
are fully aware of the deception he practices. He is not clothed
with any powers to treat, nor was he sent out to treat with us,
and attempt reconciliation. The Government against whom we have
risen, refuses to redress our grievances, or to restore to us our
liberties. Had the tyrant wished to render us justice, he had not
sent by the hand of such a ferocious assassin as Claverhouse. Let
him, however, show his powers, and we refuse not to treat; and we
shall lay down our arms to treat, provided that he also lay down
his. Thou hast my answer.’--‘It is a perfectly hopeless case,’ said
Burley, while he called after the flag-bearer.--‘Let me add one
word by your leave, General. Get thee up to that bloody dragoon,
Clavers, and tell him, that we will spare his life, and the lives
of his troops, on condition that he, your Clavers, lay down his
arms, and the arms of these troops. We will do more, as we have
no prisoners on these wild mountains, we will even let him go on
his parole, on condition that he swear never to lift arms against
the religion and the liberties of his country.’ A loud burst of
applause re-echoed from the ranks; and after a long pause in deep
silence, the army sung the following verses of a psalm:--

      ‘The arrows of the bow he brake:
        The shield, the sword, the war.
      More glorious thou than hills of prey,
        More excellent art far.

      Those that were stout of heart are spoil’d,
        They sleep their sleep outright;
      And none of these their hands did find,
        That were the men of might.’

When the report was made to Claverhouse, he gave word with a savage
ferocity, ‘Their blood be on their own heads. Be--_no quarter_--the
word this day.’ His fierce dragoons raised a yell, and ‘No quarter’
re-echoed from rank to rank, while they galloped down the mountain
side. It is stated, that Burleigh was heard to say, ‘Then be it so,
even let there be ‘no quarter’--at least in my wing of the host. So
God send me a meeting,’ cried he aloud, ‘with that chief under the
white plume.--My country would bless my memory, could my sword give
his villainous carcase to the crows.’

Our raw troops beheld with firmness the approach of the foemen; and
at the moment when the enemy halted to fire, the whole of our foot
dropped on the heath. Not a man was seen down when the order was
given to rise, and return the fire. The first flank fired, then
kneeling down while the second fired. They made each bullet tell.
As often as the lazy rolling smoke was carried over the enemy’s
head, a shower of bullets fell on his ranks. Many a gallant man
tumbled on the heath. The fire was incessant. It resembled one
blazing sheet of flame, for several minutes, along the line of the
Covenanters. Clavers attempted to cross the morass, and break our
centre. ‘Spearmen! to the front,’--I could hear the deep-toned
voice of Hamilton say, ‘Kneel, and place your spears to receive the
enemy’s cavalry; and you, my gallant fellows fire--_God and our
country_ is our word.’--Our officers flew from rank to rank. Not a
peasant gave way that day. As the smoke rolled off, we could see
Clavers urging on his men with the violence of despair. His troops
fell in heaps around him, and still the gaps were filled up. A
galled trooper would occasionally flinch; but ere he could turn or
flee, the sword of Clavers was waving over his head. I could see
him in his fury, strike both man and horse. In the fearful carnage
he himself sometimes reeled. He would stop short in the midst of
a movement, then contradict his own orders, and strike the man,
because he could not comprehend his meaning.

He ordered the flanking parties to take us on our right and left.
“In the name of God,” cried he, “cross the bog, and charge them on
the flanks till we get over the morass. If this fail we are lost.”

It now fell to my lot to come into action.--Hitherto we had fired
only some distant shot. A gallant officer led his band down to the
borders of the swamp, in search of a proper place to cross. We
threw ourselves before him, a severe firing commenced. My gallant
men fired with great steadiness. We could see many tumbling from
their saddles. Not content with repelling the foemen, we found an
opportunity to cross, and attack sword in hand. The Captain, whose
name I afterwards ascertained to be Arrol, threw himself into my
path. In the first shock, I discharged my pistols. His sudden
start in the saddle, told me that one of them had taken effect.
With one of the tremendous oaths of Charles II. he closed with
me. He fired his steel pistol. I was in front of him;--my sword
glanced on the weapon, and gave a direction to the bullet, which
saved my life. By this time my men had driven the enemy before
them, and had left the ground clear for the single combat. As he
made a lounge at my breast, I turned his sword aside, by one of
those sweeping blows, which are rather the dictate of a kind of
instinct of self-defence, than a movement of art.--As our strokes
redoubled, my antagonist’s dark features put on a look of deep
and settled ferocity. No man who has not encountered the steel of
his enemy, in the field of battle, can conceive the looks and the
manner of the warrior, in the moments of his intense feelings. May
I never witness them again! We fought in silence. My stroke fell
on his left shoulder; it cut the belt of his carabine, which fell
to the ground. His blow cut me to the rib, glanced along the bone,
and rid me also of the weight of my carabine. He had now advanced
too near me to be struck with the sword. I grasped him by the
collar. I pushed him backwards; and, with an entangled blow of my
Ferrara, I struck him across his throat. It cut only the strap of
his head-piece, and it fell off. With a sudden spring, he seized
me by the sword belt. Our horses reared, and we both came to the
ground. We rolled on the heath in deadly conflict. It was in this
situation of matters, that my brave fellows had returned from the
rout of the flanking party, to look after their commander. One of
them was actually rushing on my antagonist, when I called on him to
retire. We started to our feet. Each grasped his sword. We closed
in conflict again. After parrying strokes of mine enemy, which
indicated a hellish ferocity, I told him, my object was to take him
prisoner; that sooner than kill him, I should order my men to seize
him. “Sooner let my soul be brandered on my ribs in hell,” said he,
“than be captured by a Whigmore. ‘_No quarter_’ is the word of my
Colonel, and my word. Have at the Whig--I dare the whole of you to
the combat.”--“Leave the mad man to me--leave the field instantly,”
said I to my party, whom I could hardly restrain. My sword fell on
his left shoulder.--His sword dropped from his hand.--I lowered
my sword, and offered him his life. ‘_No quarter_,’ said he, with
a shriek of despair. He snatched his sword, which I held in my
hand, and made a lounge at my breast. I parried his blows till he
was nearly exhausted; but, gathering up his huge limbs, he put
forth all his energy in a thrust at my heart.--My Andro Ferrara
received it, so as to weaken its deadly force; but it made a deep
cut. Though I was faint with loss of blood, I left him no time for
another blow. My sword glanced on his shoulder, cut through his
buff coat, and skin, and flesh; swept through his jaw, and laid
open his throat from ear to ear. The fire of his ferocious eye
was quenched in a moment. He reeled, and falling with a terrible
clash, he poured out his soul with a torrent of blood on the heath.
I sunk down, insensible for a moment. My faithful men, who never
lost sight of me, raised me up. In the fierce combat, the soldier
suffers most from thirst. I stooped down to fill my helmet with the
water which oozed through the morass. It was deeply tinged with
human blood, which flowed in the conflict above me. I started back
with horror; and Gawn Witherspoon bringing up my steed, we set
forward in the tumult of the battle.

All this while, the storm of war had raged on our left. Cleland
and the fierce Burley had charged the strong company sent to flank
them. These officers permitted me to cross the swamp, then, charged
them with a terrible shout. ‘_No quarter_,’ cried the dragoons.

‘Be _no quarter_ to you, then, ye murderous loons,’ cried Burley;
and at one blow he cut their leader through the steel cap, and
scattered his brains on his followers. His every blow overthrew a
foeman. Their whole forces were now brought up, and they drove the
dragoons of Clavers into the swamp. They rolled over each other.
All stuck fast. The Covenanters dismounted, and fought on foot.
They left not one man to bear the tidings to their Colonel.

The firing of the platoons had long ago ceased, and the dreadful
work of death was carried on by the sword. At this moment, a
trumpet was heard in the rear of our army. There was an awful
pause, all looked up. It was only the gallant Captain Nesbit, and
his guide, Woodburn of Mains; he had no reinforcements for us, but
himself was a host. With a loud huzza, and flourish of his sword,
he placed himself by the side of Burley, and cried, ‘jump the
ditch, and charge the enemy.’ He and Burley struggled through the
marsh. The men followed as they could. They formed and marched on
the enemy’s right flank.

At this instant, Hamilton and Hackstone brought forward the whole
line of infantry in front. ‘_God and our Country_’ re-echoed
from all the ranks--‘_No quarters_’ said the fierce squadrons of
Clavers.--Here commenced a bloody scene.

I seized the opportunity this moment offered to me of making a
movement to the left of the enemy to save my friend King and the
other prisoners.--We came in time to save them. Our sword speedily
severed the ropes which tyranny had bound on the arms of the men.
The weapons of the fallen foe supplied what was lacking of arms;
and with great vigour we moved forward to charge the enemy on
the left flank. Claverhouse formed a hollow square--himself in
the centre; his men fought gallantly; they did all that soldiers
could do in their situation. Wherever a gap was made, Clavers
thrust the men forward, and speedily filled it up. Three times he
rolled headlong on the heath as he hastened from rank to rank,
and as often he remounted. My little band thinned his ranks. He
paid us a visit. Here I distinctly saw the features and shape
of this far-famed man. He was small of stature, and not well
formed. His arms were long in proportion to his legs; he had a
complexion unusually dark; his features were not lighted up with
sprightliness, as some fabulously reported; they seemed gloomy as
hell: his cheeks were lank and deeply furrowed; his eye-brows were
drawn down and gathered into a kind of knot at their junctions,
and thrown up at their extremeties; they had, in short, the strong
expression given by our painters to those on the face of Judas
Iscariot, his eyes were hollow, they had not the lustre of genius
nor the fire of vivacity; they were lighted up by that dark fire
of wrath which is kindled and fanned by an internal anxiety, and
conciousness of criminal deeds; his irregular and large teeth
were presented through a smile, which was very unnatural on his
set of features; his mouth seemed to be unusually large from
the extremeties being drawn backward and downward--as if in the
intense application to something cruel and disgusting; in short,
his upper teeth projected over his under lip, and on the whole,
presented to my view the mouth on the image of the Emperor Julian
the Apostate.--In one of his rapid courses past us, my sword could
only shear off his white plumb and a fragment of his buff coat.
In a moment he was at the other side of the square. Our officers
eagerly sought a meeting with him. ‘He has the proof of lead,’
cried some of our men.--‘Take the cold steel or a piece of silver.’
‘No,’ cried Burley, ‘It is his rapid movement on that fine charger
that bids defiance to any thing like an aim in the tumult of the
bloody fray. I could sooner shoot ten heather cocks on the wing,
than one flying Clavers.’ At that moment Burley, whose eye watched
his antagonist, pushed into the hollow square. But Burley was too
impatient. His blow was levelled at him before he came within its
reach. His heavy sword descended on the head of Clavers’ horse
and felled him to the ground.--Burley’s men rushed pell-mell on
the fallen Clavers, but his faithful dragoons threw themselves
upon them, and by their overpowering force drove Burley back,
Clavers was in an instant on a fresh steed. His bugleman recalled
the party who were driving back the flanking party of Burley. He
collected his whole troops to make his last and desperate attack.
He charged our infantry with such force, that they began to reel.
It was only for a moment. The gallant Hamilton snatched the white
flag of the Covenant, and placed himself in the fore front of the
battle. Our men shouted ‘_God and our country_,’ and rallied under
the flag. They fought like heroes. Clavers fought no less bravely.
His blows were aimed at our officers. His steel fell on the helmet
of Hackstone, whose sword was entangled in the body of a fierce
dragoon, who had just wounded him. He was borne by his men into the
rear. I directed my men on Clavers. ‘Victory or death,’ was their
reply to me. Clavers received us. He struck a desperate blow at me
as he raised himself, with all his force, in the saddle. My steel
cap resisted it. The second stroke I received on my Ferrara and his
steel was shivered to pieces. We rushed headlong on each other. His
pistol missed fire--it had been soaked in blood. Mine took effect.
But the wound was not deadly. Our horses reared. We rolled on the
ground. In vain we sought to grasp each other. In the _mêlée_, men
and horse tumbled on us. We were for a few moments buried under our
men, whose eagerness to save the respective officers brought them
in multitudes down upon us. By the aid of my faithful man Gawn, I
had extricated myself from my fallen horse; and we were rushing
on the bloody Clavers, when we were again literally buried under
a mass of men; for Hamilton had by this time brought up his whole
line, and he had planted his standard where we and Clavers were
rolling on the heath. Our men gave three cheers and drove in the
troops of Clavers. Here I was borne along with the moving mass of
men; and, almost suffocated and faint with the loss of blood, I
knew nothing more till I opened my eye on my faithful attendant. He
had dragged me from the very grasp of the enemy, and had borne me
into the rear, and was bathing my temples with water. We speedily
regained our friends; and what a spectacle presented itself!--It
seemed that I beheld an immense moving mass heaped up together
in the greatest confusion.--Some shrieking, some groaning, some
shouted, horses neighed and pranced, swords rung on the steel
helmets. I placed around me a few of my hardy men, and we rushed
into the thickest of the enemy in search of Clavers, but it was
in vain. At that instant, his trumpet sounded the loud notes of
retreat; and we saw on a knoll Clavers borne away by his men.
He threw himself on a horse, and without sword, without helmet,
he fled in the first ranks of their retreating host. His troops
galloped up the hill in the utmost confusion. My little line closed
with that of Burley’s, and took a number of prisoners. Our main
body pursued the enemy two miles, and strewed the ground with men
and horses. I could see the bare-headed Clavers in front of his
men, kicking and struggling up the steep sides of Calder hill. He
halted only a moment on the top to look behind him, then plunged
his rowels into his horse, and darted forward; nor did he recover
from his panic till he found himself in the city of Glasgow.

‘And, my children,’ the Laird would say, after he had told the
adventures of this bloody day, ‘I visited the field of battle next
day; I shall never forget the sight. Men and horses lay in their
gory beds. I turned away from the horrible spectacle. I passed by
the spot where God saved my life in the single combat, and where
the unhappy Captain Arrol fell, I observed that, in the subsequent
fray, the body had been trampled on by a horse, and his bowels were
poured out. Thus, my children, the defence of our lives, and the
regaining of our liberty and religion, has subjected us to severe
trials. And how great must be the love of liberty, when it carries
men forward, under the impulse of self-defence, to witness the most
disgusting spectacles, and to encounter the most cruel hardships of
war!’


BATTLE OF BOTHWELL BRIDGE.

“Heu! victa jacet pietas.”

* * * After the ranks of the patriotic Whigs were broken by
overwhelming forces, and while Dalzell and Clavers swept the south
and west of Scotland like the blast of the desert, breathing
pestilence and death--the individual wanderers betook themselves to
the caves and fastnesses of their rugged country. This was their
situation chiefly from A. D. 1680, to the Revolution. The Laird
spent his days in seclusion; but still he fearlessly attended
the weekly assemblies in the fields, for the worship of Almighty
God. What had he to fear?--His estate had been confiscated. His
wife and babes stript by the life guards of the last remnant of
earthly comfort which they could take away; and himself doomed as
an outlaw, to be executed by the military assassins when taken. He
became reckless of the world.

‘I have lived,’ said he in anguish, ‘to see a Prince, twice of his
own choice, take the oath of the covenants to support religion,
and the fundamental laws of the land. I have lived to see that
Prince turn traitor to his country, and, with unblushing impiety
order these covenants to be burned by the hands of the executioner.
I have seen him subvert the liberty of my country, both civil
and religious.--I have seen him erect a bloody inquisition. The
priest imposed on us by tyranny, instead of wooing us over by the
loveliness of religion, have thrown off the bowels of mercy. They
occupy seats in the bloody Council. They stimulate the cruelties
of Lauderdale, M’Kenzie and York. Their hands are dipt in blood to
the wrests. This Council will not permit us to live in peace. Our
property they confiscate. Our houses, they convert into barracks.
They drag free men into chains. They bring no witnesses of our
guilt.--They invent new tortures to convert us. They employ the
thumb-screws and bootkins. If we are silent they condemn us. If we
confess our Christian creed, they doom us to the gibbet. Not only
our sentence, but the manner of our execution is fixed before our
trial. Clavers is our judge; his dragoons are our executioners;
and these savages do still continue to employ even the sagacity
of blood hounds to hunt us down.--My soul turns away from these
loathsome spectacles.’

At this moment his brother John entered, with looks which betrayed
unusual anxiety. ‘My brother,’ said he, ‘a trooper advances at
full speed, and he is followed by a dark column. We have not even
time to fly.’--The mind of the laird like those of the rest of the
wanderers, always brightened up at the approach of danger. ‘Let us
reconnoiter,’ said he, ‘what do I see, but one trooper. And that
motely crowd is but a rabble--not a troop. That trooper is not of
Clavers’ band; nor does he belong to Douglas--nor to Ingles--nor
to Strachan’s dragoons. He waves a small flag. I can discover the
scarlet and blue colour of the Covenanters flag. Ha! welcome you,
John Howie of Lochgoin.--But what news?--Lives our country? Lives
the good old cause?’--‘Glorious news,’ exclaimed Howie, ‘Scotland
for ever! She is free. The tyrant James has abdicated. The Stuarts
are banished by an indignant nation, Orange triumphs, our wounds
are binding up.--Huzza! Scotland, and King William and the Covenant
for ever!’

The Laird made no reply. He laid his steel cap on the ground, and
threw himself on his knees; he uttered a brief prayer, in which
this was the close: ‘My bleeding country, and thy wailing kirk,
and my brethren in the furnace, have come in remembrance before
thee. For ever lauded be thy name.’--‘Hasten to the meeting at
Lesmahagow. Our friends behind me, you see, have already set out,’
said Howie. And he set out with enthusiastic ardour to spread the
news.

‘These news,’ said the Laird, after a long pause while his eyes
followed the courser over the plains of Aven--‘these news are to
me as life from the dead. I have a mind to meet my old friends at
Lesmahagow. And then, when serious business is despatched, we can
take Bothwell field in our return. It will yield me at least a
melancholy pleasure to visit the spot where we fought, I trust, our
last battle against the enemies of our country, and of the good old
cause.’

Serious matters of church and state having been discussed at the
public meeting, the brothers found themselves, on the fourth day,
on the battle ground of Bothwell.

‘On that moor,’ said the Laird, after a long silence--and without
being conscious of it, he had, by a kind of instinct, natural
enough to a soldier, drawn his sword, and was pointing with it--‘On
that moor the enemy first formed under Monmouth. There, on the
right, Clavers led on the life-guards, breathing fury, and resolute
to wipe off the disgrace of the affair of Drumclog. Dalzell formed
his men on that knoll. Lord Livingstone led the van of the foemen.
We had taken care to have Bothwell Bridge strongly secured by a
barricade, and our little battery of cannon was planted on the spot
below us, in order to sweep the bridge. And we did rake it. The
foemen’s blood streamed there. Again and again the troops of the
tyrant marched on, and our cannon annihilated their columns. Sir
Robert Hamilton was our Commander-in-Chief.--The gallant general
Hackston stood on that spot with his brave men. Along the river,
and above the bridge, Burley’s foot and Captain Nisbet’s dragoons
were stationed. For one hour we kept the enemy in check; they were
defeated in every attempt to cross the Clyde. Livingstone sent
another strong column to storm the bridge. I shall never forget
the effect of one fire from our battery, where my men stood. We
saw the line of the foe advance in all the military glory of
brave and beautiful men, the horses pranced--the armour gleamed.
In one moment nothing was seen but a shocking mass of mortality.
Human limbs, and the bodies and limbs of horses were mingled
in one huge heap, or blown to a great distance. Another column
attempted to cross above the bridge. Some threw themselves into
the current. One well-directed fire from Burley’s troops threw
them into disorder, and drove them back. Meantime, while we were
thus warmly engaged, Hamilton was labouring to bring down the
different divisions of our main body into action; but in vain he
called on Colonel Cleland’s troop--in vain he ordered Henderson’s
to fall in--in vain he called on Colonel Fleming’s. Hackstone flew
from troop to troop--all was confusion; in vain he besought, he
intreated, he threatened. Our disputes and fiery misguided zeal,
my brother, contracted a deep and deadly guilt that day. The Whig
turned his arm in fierce heat that day against his own vitals.
Our Chaplains, Cargil and King, and Kid, and Douglas, interposed
again and again, Cargil mounted the pulpit; he preached concord;
he called aloud for mutual forbearance. ‘Behold the banners of
the enemy,’ cried he, ‘hear ye not the fire of the foe, and of
our brethren? Our brothers and fathers are fallen beneath their
sword. Hasten to their aid. See the flag of the Covenant. See the
motto in letters of gold--“Christ’s Crown and the Covenant.” Hear
the wailings of the bleeding Kirk. Banish discord. And let us, as
a band of brothers present a bold front to the foeman--Follow me
all ye who love your country and the Covenant. I go to die in the
fore-front of the battle.’ All the ministers and officers followed
him, amidst a flourish of trumpets; but the great body remained to
listen to the harangues of the factious.--We sent again and again
for ammunition. My men were at the last round. Treachery, or a
fatal error, had sent a barrel of raisins instead of powder. My
heart sunk within me while I beheld the despair on the faces of my
brave fellows, as I struck out the head of the vessel. Hackstone
called his officers to him. We threw ourselves around him.--‘What
must be done?’ said he in an agony of despair. ‘Conquer or die,’
we said, as if with one voice. ‘We have our swords yet. Lead back
the men to their places and let the ensign bear down the blue and
scarlet colours. Our God and our country be the word.’ Hackstone
rushed forward. We ran to our respective corps--we cheered our
men but they were languid and disspirited. Their ammunition was
nearly expended, and they seemed anxious to husband what remained.
They fought only with their carabines. The cannons could no more
be loaded. The enemy soon perceived this. We saw a troop of horse
approach the bridge. It was that of the life-guards. I recognised
the plume of Clavers. They approached in rapid march. A solid
column of infantry followed. I sent a request to Captain Nesbit to
join his troop to mine. He was in an instant with me.--We charged
the life-guards. Our swords rung on their steel caps.--Many of our
brave lads fell on all sides of me. But we hewed down the foe. They
began to reel.--The whole column was kept stationary on the bridge.
Clavers’ dreadful voice was heard--more like the yell of a savage,
than the commanding voice of a soldier. He pushed forward his men,
and again we hewed them down. A third mass was pushed up. Our
exhausted dragoon fled.--Unsupported, I found myself by the brave
Nesbit, and Paton, and Hackstone. We looked for a moment’s space
in silence on each other. We galloped in front of our retreating
men. We rallied them. We pointed to the General almost alone. We
pointed to the white and to the scarlet colours floating near him.
We cried, ‘God and our Country.’ They faced about. We charged
Clavers once more.--‘Torfoot,’ cried Nesbit, ‘I dare you to the
fore-front of the battle.’ We rushed up at full gallop. Our men
seeing this followed also at full speed.--We broke down the enemy’s
line, bearing down those files which we encountered. We cut our
way through their ranks. But they had now lengthened their front.
Superior numbers drove us in. They had gained entire possession
of the bridge. Livingstone and Dalzell were actually taking us
on the flank.--A band had got between us and Burley’s infantry.
‘My friends,’ said Hackstone to his officers, ‘we are last on the
field. We can do no more.--We must retreat.--Let us attempt, at
least, to bring aid to the deluded men behind us. They have brought
ruin on themselves and on us. Not Monmouth, but our own divisions
have scattered us.’

At this moment one of the life-guards aimed a blow at
Hackstone.--My sword received it--and a stroke from Nesbit laid
the foeman’s hand and sword in the dust. He fainted and tumbled
from the saddle. We reined our horses, and galloped to our main
body. But what a scene presented itself here! These misguided men
had their eyes now fully opened on their fatal errors. The enemy
were bringing up their whole force against them. I was not long
a near spectator of it; for a ball grazed my courser. He plunged
and reared--then shot off like an arrow. Several of our officers
drew to the same place. On the knoll we faced about--the battle
raged below us. We beheld our commander doing every thing that a
brave soldier could do with factious men against an overpowering
foe. Burley and his troops were in close conflict with Clavers’
dragoons. We saw him dismount three troopers with his own hand.
He could not turn the tide of battle, but he was covering the
retreat of these misguided men. Before we could rejoin him, a party
threw themselves in our way. Kennoway, one of Clavers’ officers
led them on. ‘Would to God that this was Grahame himself,’ some
of my comrades ejaculated aloud. ‘He falls to my share,’ said I,
‘whoever the officer be.’--I advanced--he met me, I parried several
thrusts, he received a cut on the left arm; and the sword by the
same stroke, shore off one of his horse’s ears; it plunged and
reared. We closed again. I received a stroke on the left shoulder.
My blow fell on his sword arm. He reined his horse around,
retreated a few paces, then returned at full gallop. My courser
reared instinctively as he approached; I received his stroke on the
back of my ferrara, and by a back stroke, I gave him a deep cut on
the cheek. And before he could recover a position of defence, my
sword fell with a terrible blow on his steel cap. Stunned by the
blow, he bent himself forward--and, grasping the mane, he tumbled
from his saddle, and his steed galloped over the field. I did not
repeat the blow. His left hand presented his sword; his right arm
was disabled; his life was given to him. My companions having
disposed of their antagonists, (and some of them had two a-piece,)
we paused to see the fate of the battle. Dalzell and Livingstone
were riding over the field like furies, cutting down all in their
way. Monmouth was galloping from rank to rank, and calling on his
men to give quarter. Clavers, to wipe off the disgrace of Drumclog,
was committing dreadful havoc. ‘Can we not find Clavers,’ said
Halhead, ‘no,’ said Captain Paton, ‘the gallant Colonel takes care
to have a solid guard of his rogues about him. I have sought him
over the field; but I found him, as I now perceive him, with a mass
of his guards about him.’ At this instant we saw our General, at
some distance, disentangling himself from the men who had tumbled
over him in the _mêlée_. His face, his hands, and clothes, were
covered with gore. He had been dismounted, and was fighting on
foot. We rushed to the spot, and cheered him. Our party drove back
the scattered bands of Dalzell. ‘My friends’ said Sir Robert, as
we mounted him on a stray horse, ‘the day is lost! But--you Paton;
you Brownlee of Torfoot, and you Halhead; let not that flag fall
into the hands of these incarnate devils. We have lost the battle,
but by the grace of God, neither Dalzell, nor Clavers shall say
that he took our colours. My ensign has done his duty. He is down.
This sword has saved it twice. I leave it to your care. You see its
perilous situation.’ He pointed with his sword to the spot.--We
collected some of our scattered troops, and flew to the place. The
standard bearer was down, but he was borne upright by the mass of
men who had thrown themselves in fierce contest around it. Its well
known blue and scarlet colours, and its motto, ‘CHRIST’S CROWN AND
COVENANT,’ in brilliant gold letters, inspired us with a sacred
enthusiasm. We gave a loud cheer to the wounded ensign, and rushed
into the combat. The redemption of that flag cost the foe many a
gallant man. They fell beneath our broad swords; and, with horrible
execrations dying on their lips, they gave up their souls to their
Judge.

Here I met in front that ferocious dragoon of Clavers, named Tam
Halliday, who had more than once, in his raids, plundered my halls;
and had snatched the bread from my weeping babes. He had just
seized the white staff of the flag. But his tremenduous oath of
exultation, (we of the covenant never swear)--his oath had scarcely
passed its polluted threshold, when this Andrew Ferrara fell on
the guard of his steel and shivered it to pieces. ‘Recreant loon!’
said I, ‘thou shalt this day remember thy evil deeds.’ Another blow
on his helmet laid him at his huge length, and made him bite the
dust. In the _mêlée_ that followed, I lost sight of him. We fought
like lions--but with the hearts of Christians. While my gallant
companions stemmed the tide of battle, the standard, rent to
tatters, fell across my breast. I tore it from the staff, and wrapt
it round my body. We cut our way through the enemy, and carried our
General off the field.

Having gained a small knoll, we beheld once more the dreadful
spectacle below. Thick volumes of smoke and dust rolled in a
hazy cloud over the dark bands mingled in deadly fray. It was no
longer a battle, but a massacre. In the struggle of my feelings
I turned my eyes on the General and Paton. I saw, in the face
of the latter, an indiscribable conflict of passions. His long
and shaggy eye-brows were drawn over his eyes. His hand grasped
his sword. ‘I cannot yet leave the field’ said the undaunted
Paton--‘With the General’s permission, I shall try to save some
of our wretched men beset by those hell-hounds. Who will go?’--At
Kilsyth I saw service. When deserted by my troops, I cut my way
through Montrose’s men, and reached the spot where Colonels Halket
and Strachan were. We left the field together. Fifteen dragoons
attacked us. We cut down thirteen, and two fled. Thirteen next
assailed us. We left ten on the field, and three fled. Eleven
Highlanders next met us. We paused and cheered each other: ‘Now,
Johnny,’ cried Halket to me, ‘put forth your metal, else we
are gone,’ nine others we sent after their comrades, and two
fled--‘Now, who will join this raid!’[A] ‘I will be your leader,’
said Sir Robert, as we fell into the ranks.

We marched on the enemy’s flank. ‘Yonder is Clavers,’ said Paton,
while he directed his courser on him. The bloody man was, at that
moment, nearly alone, hacking to pieces some poor fellows already
on their knees disarmed, and imploring him by the common feelings
of humanity to spare their lives. He had just finished his usual
oath against their ‘feelings of humanity,’ when Paton presented
himself. He instantly let go his prey and slunk back into the midst
of his troopers. Having formed them, he advanced.--We formed,
and made a furious onset. At our first charge his troop reeled.
Clavers was dismounted.--But at that moment Dalzell assailed us on
the flank and rear.--Our men fell around us like grass before the
mower. The buglemen sounded a retreat. Once more in the _mêlée_ I
fell in with the General and Paton, we were covered with wounds.
We directed our flight in the rear of our broken troops. By the
direction of the General I had unfurled the standard. It was borne
off the field flying at the sword’s point. But that honour cost
me much. I was assailed by three fierce dragoons; five followed
close in the rear. I called to Paton,--in a moment he was by my
side. I threw the standard to the General, and we rushed on the
foe. They fell beneath our swords; but my faithful steed, which
had carried me through all my dangers was mortally wounded. He
fell. I was thrown in among the fallen enemy. I fainted. I opened
my eyes on misery. I found myself in the presence of Monmouth--a
prisoner--with other wretched creatures, awaiting, in awful
suspense, their ultimate destiny. * * * *

  W. C. B.


LONG CREDIT.

Soon after the battle of Preston, two Highlanders, in roaming
through the south of Mid-Lothian, entered the farm-house of
Swanston, near the Pentland Hills, where they found no one at home
but an old woman. They immediately proceeded to search the house,
and soon finding a web of coarse home-spun cloth, made no scruple
to unroll and cut off as much as they thought would make a coat to
each. The woman was exceedingly incenced at their rapacity, roared
and cried, and even had the hardihood to invoke divine vengeance
upon their heads. “Ye villains!” she cried, “ye’ll ha’e to account
for this yet!”--“And when will we pe account for’t?” asked one of
the Highlanders.--“At the last day, ye blackguards!” exclaimed
the woman. “Ta last tay!” replied the Highlander: “Tat pe cood
long credit--we’ll e’en pe tak a waistcoat too!” at the same time
cutting off a few additional yards of the cloth.


DEATH OF A WATCH.

After the battle of Falkirk, in 1746, a Highlandman was observed
extracting a gold watch from the fob of an English officer who had
been killed. His comrade viewed him with a greedy eye; which the
man taking notice of, said to him “Tamn you gapin’ creedy bitch,
gang an’ shoot a shentleman for hersel’, an no envie me o’ my pit
watch.” Next morning finding his watch motionless, and meeting his
comrade, says to him, “Och! she no be care muckle about a watch,
an’ you be like mine what will you gie me for her?” The other
replied, “I be venture a kinny.”--“Weel then,” said the other,
“Shust tak her, an’ welcome, for she be die yester night.”


CAPTAIN SILK.

In a party of ladies, on it being reported that a Captain Silk had
arrived in town, they exclaimed, with one exception, ‘What a name
for a soldier!’ ‘The fittest name in the world,’ replied a witty
female, ‘for Silk never can be Worsted!’


[Illustration: FINIS.]


FOOTNOTE:

[A] This chivalrous defence is recorded, I find, in the life of
Captain Paton, in the ‘Scots Worthies,’ Edin. edit. of A. D. 1812.
This celebrated Officer was trained up to warfare in the army of
Charles Gustavus, King of Sweden. This is a specimen of these
heroic Whigs, who brought about the Revolution of A. D. 1688.




  AN ELEGY

  IN MEMORY

  OF THAT VALIANT CHAMPION,

  SIR R. GRIERSON,

  LATE LAIRD OF LAG,

  Who died Dec. 23d, 1733.

  WHEREIN

  THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS

  Commends many of his best friends, who were

  THE CHIEF MANAGERS,

  of the late Persecution.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




AN

ELEGY

IN MEMORY OF

SIR ROBERT GRIERSON,

_OF LAG_.


      What fatal news is this I hear?
      On earth who shall my standard bear?
      For Lag who was my champion brave,
      Is dead and now laid in his grave,
      The want of him is a great grief,
      He was as my manager and chief,
      Who fought my kingdom to promove,
      And to my laws he had great love,
      Could such a furious fiend as I,
      Shed tears, my cheeks could never dry;
      But I could mourn both night and day,
      ’Cause Lag from earth is ta’en away.
      It is no wonder I am sad,
      A better friend I never had,
      Through all the large tract of his time,
      He never did my ways decline:
      He was my trusty constant liege,
      Who at all times did me oblige;
      But now what shall I think or say?
      By death at last he’s ta’en away.
      He was a man of meikle zeal,
      Who in my service did not fail;
      He was no coward to relent;
      No man dare say he did repent,
      Of the good service done to me,
      For as he liv’d so did he die,
      He bore my image on his brow,
      My service he did still avow,
      He had no other deity,
      But this world, the flesh, and me;
      Unto us he did homage pay,
      And did us worship every day.
      The thing that he delighted in,
      Was that which pious folk call sin,
      Adultery, whoredom, and such vice,
      Such pleasures were his paradise.
      To curse, to swear, and to blaspheme,
      He gloried in and thought no shame;
      To excess he drank beer and wine,
      Till he was drunken like a swine.
      No Sabbath day regarded he,
      But spent it in profanity;
      ’Mongst other vices, as some say,
      He ravish’d virgins on that day;
      But that which rais’d his fame so high,
      Was the good service done to me,
      In bearing of a deadly feud,
      ’Gainst people who did pray and read,
      And sought my kingdom to impair,
      These were the folk he did not spare,
      Any who reads the scriptures through,
      I’m sure they’ll find but very few
      Of my best friends that’s mentioned there,
      That could with Grier of Lag compare;
        Though Cain was a bloody man,
      He to Lag’s latches never came,
      In shedding of the blood of those,
      Who did my laws and ways oppose.
      Like Saul, who David did pursue,
      He rais’d on them the cry and hue,
      And cruelly he did oppress,
      Such as religion did profess.
        Doeg the Edomite did slay,
      Fourscore and five priests in one day;
      But if you’ll take the will for deed,
      Brave Lag did Doeg far exceed.
      He of the blood royal was come,
      Of Ahab he was a true son;
      For he did sell himself to me,
      To work sin and iniquity.
        Herod for me had great zeal,
      Though his main purpose far did fail,
      He many slew by a decree,
      But did not toil so much for me,
      As Lag, who in his person went,
      To every place where he was sent,
      To persecute both man and wife,
      Who he knew led a pious life.
        Brave Clavers flourish’d in his day;
      And many lives did take away,
      He to Rome’s cause most firmly stood,
      And drunken was with the saint’s blood,
      Which in abundance he did shed,
      Of those who from his presence fled,
      In moss and mountain, cleugh and glen,
      Were slaughter’d by his Highlandmen.
      That where he came none might remain,
      Who in the least did me defame,
      He rifled houses, and did plunder,
      In moor and dale many a hunder:
      He all the shires in south and west,
      When blood and rapine sore opprest.
      He to his utmost did contrive,
      How he might make my kingdom thrive,
      And how he might bring down all those,
      That did my government oppose.
      His mischief never prosper’d ill
      Except one time near Lowdon hill,
      Where shamefully he did retreat,
      Before a few, who did him beat,
      Till more assistance I did give.
      And then brave Clavers did revive;
      With fury then and hellish rage,
      He did these wanderers engage,
      And sought their utter overthrow,
      In every place where he did go.
      He was made Viscount of Dundee,
      For venturing his all for me.
      This honour he enjoy’d not long,
      Soon after this he was ta’en home;
      By sudden fate at last he fell,
      At Killicrankie, near Dunkel.
      No longer he could serve me here;
      But Lag survived for many a year,
      And constantly stood to his post,
      When many a champion brave was lost.
        Brave Charles Stewart of renown,
      The best that ever wore a crown,
      For whoredom and adultery,
      For incest and profanity,
      For drunkness and for perjury,
      He neither word nor oath regarded;
      With gibbets he his friend rewarded
      When opposition he did meet.
      He then did play the hypocrite,
      And feign’d himself for reformation,
      When he intended deformation.
      At Spey and Scoon within a year.
      The covenants he twice did swear;
      And at Dunfermline did profess
      Great sorrow for his naughtiness
      But that was all to get the crown,
      That he the better might throw down,
      That covenanted Presbytery,
      That was so opposite to me;
      For afterwards he did rescind,
      These covenants no more to bind;
      And solemnly he gave command,
      To burn them by the hangman’s hand.
      He caus’d the nations to abjure,
      What they call’d reformation pure.
      Brave prelacy he did restore,
      As it in Scotland was before.
      And to this Dagon he caus’d bow,
      Scotsman contrary to their vow.
      He many a conscience did desire,
      Which made me on his count to smile;
      Malignants he advanced high.
      ’Cause they good subjects were to me.
      He tolerated heresy,
      All error and profanity:
      A blasphemous supremacy,
      Over the church usurped he;
      And granted an indulgency.
      Thereby to ruin Presbytry.
      My sceptre he did bravely sway,
      And punish’d those that did gainsay,
      By tortures that were most severe,
      By prisoning and loss of gear;
      And cruel murders many a way,
      Because they from my laws did stray:
      But kindness he did ever bear,
      No Pope in Rome did ever dwell,
      That could this noble prince excell,
      For in a word he did advance,
      My kingdom more than Rome or France:
      Neither Spain nor Germany,
      Had so much true zeal for me.
      He reigned long but at the last,
      His brother York gave him a cast.
      He poison’d him and made him die,
      And sent him home to my country;
      To Tophet that’s both wide and large,
      Which he chus’d for his heritage,
        Great Middleton, that man of might,
      My service he did never slight:
      To work he furiously did go,
      The covenants to overthrow;
      He like Nehustan did them treat,
      Like almanacks that’s out of date,
      He did rescind their force and power,
      And solemly did them abjure,
      He nullified all acts and laws,
      That favoured the scripture cause;
      And ruin’d many a family,
      For nought but non-conformity,
      If hirelings they would not hear,
      Their purse he punish’d most severe;
      He made the south of Scotland feel,
      His griping claws were made of steel,
      They were so crooked, hard, and sharp,
      They pierc’d men’s substance to the heart,
      The king’s commission while he did bear,
      Men lost their conscience, life, and gear,
      But Charles too soon him discarded,
      Yet I his kindness well rewarded;
      And this I hope he’ll not deny,
      Since now he lives as well as I.
        Fletcher, my friend, he was the first
      Advocate who did insist
      Against the Whigs in the king’s name,
      To bring them to an open shame;
      Charles my son did him instal,
      To bring these rebels under thral,
      Who still for covenants were pleading,
      To justify their old proceeding.
      He laboured very earnestly
      To please his sovereign and me,
      By rooting out brave Presbytery,
      And planting noble Prelacy;
      By shutting up in prison strong
      These men who did my interest wrong,
      And thristing for the blood of them
      Who did my government contemn;
      His malice was so set on fire
      That nothing could quench his desire,
      Until Argyle, mine enemy,
      Was brought condignly for to die;
      And Guthrie, who did me oppose,
      By hanging he his days did close;
      And Warriston, the worst of all,
      By my friend Fletcher he did fall:
      Thus wonderfully he did please me,
      When of these rebels he did ease me;
      For which good service he doth sit
      Among the princes of my pit.
      And my dear cousin, Provost Mill,
      Burnt covenants, yet thought no ill,
      At Lithgow cross, with more disgrace
      Than ever was at any place.
      He burnt Lex Rex, and other books,
      Which sourly on my interest looks;
      And many acts of kirk and state,
      Which he knew well that I did hate,
      ’Cause they advanc’d a reformation,
      That shook my kingdom thro’ the nation.
      He burnt old brechems, roakes, and reels,
      Also the picture of the De’il;
      I mean myself, ’cause he did think
      My effigies would make all stink,
      That he burnt on that solemn day,
      Upon the twenty-ninth of May.
      But my dear cousin was mista’en,
      The covenants remained in fame,
      By some that did love them so well,
      That with their blood they did them seal.
      Himself he did to me surrender,
      And for a time liv’d in great splendour
      Beloved well of all my friends.
      Till at the last he lost his means,
      And left in want and poverty
      Which made him to the Abbey fly;
      He who the covenants did burn,
      A cheating bankrupt did become,
      He lost his senses turn’d demented;
      And none but me his case lamented;
      And at the end of all did die,
      Bemoaned by no man but me.
      I did him visit in distress
      Where he is now you’ll eas’ly guess.
      Turner did Galloway invade
      And took from many what they had,
      He spared neither old nor young
      But plundered all where he did come,
      Most savagely he did them treat.
      And without mercy some did beat.
      He spoil’d that country cruelly,
      And acted like a man for me.
      A very hellish life he led
      As in my cave he had been bred.
      Carsphairn can well testify,
      The cursing and profanity,
      The outrages committed there,
      (The half of which might file the air)
      By Turner and his company.
      Which wonderfully pleased me
      Dalziel who fought at Pentland hill,
      And many of my foes did kill;
      And others prisoners did lead,
      Who after quarters were hang’d dead;
      A downright atheist he did turn
      And ruin’d all where he did come,
      That wanted the mark of the beast,
      He did not spare them in the least;
      In serving me he made his boast.
      He was so valiant in my cause,
      And so observant of my laws
      That to commend him there’s no need.
      His works have prais’d him.--Since he’s dead.
      Nisbet of Dalstown in his stead.
      In open court against Whigs did plead:
      And to the gallows did pursue
      The Pentland men who did renew
      The covenants at Lanark town.
      Till they on gibbets were brought down;
      And by his rigorous pursuing
      He many other Whigs did ruin,
      His great exploits pleas’d me so well,
      That I his name cannot conceal
      But think fit that his deeds be told,
      That so his name may be enrol’d
      ’Mongst other worthies on record
      Who serv’d me as their sovereign Lord.
      M’Kenzie after did succeed,
      As advocate for me to plead.
      He turned to apostacy.
      And spent his time in blasphemy;
      He pled that persons might go free
      For murder and for sorcery;
      But brought them in guilty of treason,
      Who were religious out of season,
      By keeping Presbytery in fame
      Which king and council did disclaim:
      Who of their conscience were so tender
      Religion they would not surrender
      To please his Majesty and court,
      And turn as changes came about:
      To scripture they so firmly stood,
      On them I did spue out a flood
      Of mischief and calamity,
      M’Kenzie acted well for me:
      Scripture religion at that time,
      He made it such a heinous crime,
      That for it nought could satisfy,
      But guilty persons they must die.
      He many a saint pursu’d to death,
      He feared neither hell nor wrath.
      His conscience was so cauteriz’d,
      He refus’d nothing that I pleas’d;
      For which he’s had my kindness still,
      Since he his labour did fulfil.
      Rothes like a sow in mire,
      Who of his whoredom did not tire,
      But wallow’d in adultery,
      In cursing and profanity,
      And did allot the Sabbath-day,
      To spend it in his game and play;
      Perjur’d himself in Mitchell’s case,
      To bring that rebel to disgrace,
      He did contrive that engine,
      That did make Hackston dree great pain,
      To rip his breast at my desire,
      And burn his heart quick in the fire,
      Mangled his hands and took them off,
      That they might be the people’s scoff,
      And afterwards struck off his pow,
      And set it on the Netherbow;
      And cut his body all asunder,
      And plac’d it for a world’s wonder.
      Thus he shook off humanity,
      For the respect he had to me.
      At last in horror he did die,
      And went to Tophet dolefully.
      Monmouth did me a noble turn,
      When he to Bothwell-bridge did come,
      With armed force, with power and might,
      He slew and put the Whigs to flight.
      Although it was the Sabbath-day,
      He would not grant them a delay,
      But instantly did hash them down,
      And took them captives to the town.
      They prisoners were in the Grey friar,
      Until a false oath they did swear;
      Or in the dungeons were shut close,
      Where they their lives were like to lose,
      Some got the gallows some the sea,
      Some hang’d, some drown’d--that pleased me;
      Earishal who serv’d me many a year,
      And for my interest did appear;
      He serv’d his ’prentiship below,
      Then to the mountains he did go,
      The Cameronians to defeat,
      People whom I do greatly hate,
      At Aird’s moss he surpris’d that crew,
      Cameron their champion he slew,
      And desperately cut off his head,
      Also his hands and made him bleed.
      Then in great triumph he did go,
      To Edinburgh with a great shew,
      Much boasting that he had supprest
      The Cameronians in the west
      He did produce the hands and head
      Of Cameron whom he killed dead;
      For which the council did him pay
      A large reward without delay:
      And I myself on him did smile
      For that great action done in Kyle;
      Because that he avenged me
      Upon my stated enemy.
      His kindness shall not be forgot
      As long as my furnace is hot.
      York, who great Charles did succeed,
      He was my constant friend indeed
      He was bred with me all his days,
      And never from my laws did stray;
      For he black Popery did profess,
      In Scotland he set up the mass.
      A toleration he did give
      That mystery Babylon might revive,
      He took to him absolute power,
      For to advance the Romish whore.
      He stopped all the penal laws,
      Were made for weakening of my cause,
      And gave a golden liberty
      For all sorts of idolatry.
      It criminal was in his day
      To own the covenanted way;
      For he intended in a short time,
      To make Popery through Scotland shine,
      That from the greatest to the least
      All men might serve the Romish beast.
      He deeply sworn was to Rome,
      To seek all Presbyterians doom,
      To abolish the memory
      Of all that opps’d Popery,
      All protestants he did despise,
      And many slew without assize;
      He ordered that they should be shot,
      Where they were found in every spot.
      By hellish soldiers my drudges,
      Whom he empower’d in place of judges,
      Suspected persons for to try,
      And at their pleasure make them die,
      Without allowing liberty,
      To fit them for eternity.
      He framed all mischief by a law,
      To make Scotland an aceldema,
      Threatened to make a hunting field,
      Of shires that would not fully yield,
      He all the venom of the pit
      Against piety did spit,
      He hated all maliciously.
      Had any sovereign but me;
      Disdained common honesty,
      Lov’d nothing but impiety.
      He in my service posted fast,
      Until his projects got a blast.
      When Orange did come o’er the sea,
      Like a base coward he did flee.
      Then he did abdicate the crown,
      And after liv’d a vagabond;
      Till at St. Bermains he did die,
      And then he did come home to me.
      I need not speak of Queensberry.
      No man was loyaler than he:
      He serv’d me well with all his might,
      Against the Whigs with great despight,
      While York’s commission he did bear,
      Upon that he was most severe.
      By him the parliament was led;
      Saints blood like water then he shed.
      He confidently did declare
      They should not have time to prepare
      For heaven because he said that hell
      Was too good a place for Whigs to dwell.
      By that he acted to his power,
      Both soul and body to devour;
      Which was the only thing I sought,
      Although to pass it was not brought;
      Yet thanks be unto Queensberry,
      For his good will in serving me.
      I Milton Maxwell must commend,
      Ten Whigs at once he did condemn,
      And after that he did devote
      Himself my kingdom to promote.
      M’Cartney he did apprehend,
      Brought him to an untimous end.
      He plagued the presbyterians sore,
      That dwelt on the water of Orr,
      For Corsack’s house he rifled bare,
      And neither nurse nor bairn did spare,
      But thurst them out from house and hold,
      To hunger them exposed and cold;
      He did leave nothing in that house
      That was to him of any use;
      The horse, the colt, the corn, the sheep,
      He every thing away did sweep.
      He rang’d through like a greedy thief,
      Took butter, cheese, mutton, and beef;
      The puddings he did scarcely spare,
      For every thing away he bear.
      Of cloth and clothes silver and gold,
      He took far more than can be told:
      The blackest sight that country saw,
      Worse than Pate Barley or John Faw.
      All his zeal was mixt with self,
      He very greedy was of pelf.
      Yet all he took but short time lasted,
      The Whigs did say that it was blasted,
      For all his offspring that remain
      Have none of his well gotten gain.
      When I perceiv’d that it was gone,
      I out of pity brought him home,
      Now Whigs may sleep in a sound skin,
      They’ll never get mair skaith of him.
      My friends that were of lower note,
      In justice should not be forgot,
      As Allison, who here did dree
      A hell on earth for pleasing me.
      Bonshaw more fierce than I can tell,
      Who bade some send the Whigs to hell;
      And my beloved Kennaway
      Who plagu’d the hill men every day.
      ’Bove twenty journeys in one year
      This varlet willingly did go,
      To hasten the fanatic’s woe
      Strahan Murray and Annandale.
      Who in my cause had great zeal,
      Drummond, Stretton and bloody Reid,
      Who shot my foes till they were dead,
      Buchan, Inglis, and Westerhall,
      Balfour and others great and small.
      Stenhouse, Maitland and Bollochmiln,
      Culzean and Windrum, men of skill.
      Crichton, Lauder, and many more,
      Who sought the hill-men’s overthrow.
      Halton, who did himself perjure,
      To bring Mitchel to an ill hour.
      Lowrie of Maxwelton also.
      Unto these wild men was a foe.
      And so was Carick of Stewarton,
      Bailie, and these gave Smith his doom.
      And all the bishops in the land,
      Were ready still at my command,
      My statutes for to execute,
      On all whom I did persecute.
      Dumbarton, Bruce, and Rob Dalziel,
      And other worthies I could tell,
      As Ezekiel Montgomery.
      The bloodiest monster that could be,
      And that vile wretch call’d sheriff Hume,
      That was right worthy of his room;
      And old tree-legged Duncan Grant,
      Who of his wickedness did vaunt.
      Eglinton, Ironcaple and lord Ross,
      Who did the Whigs murder and toss,
      From sixty to the revolution,
      Imbrewed their hands in persecution
      They murder’d and did stigmatise,
      Such as my service did not please:
      They banished them to foreign nations,
      And sold them to the new plantations,
      With rigour great they took their gear,
      Because they my livery would not wear,
      None forwarder among them all,
      Than noble Grierson of Lag-hall,
      Whose worthy actions make him fit
      In the great chair now to sit,
      ’Bove Korah and his company,
      For all his friendship done to me.
      This honour he doth well deserve,
      For he unweariedly did serve
      Me to his utmost every way,
      To keep my kingdom from decay.
      I must remember bishop Sharp,
      For the good service I did get
      Of him, when he was here away;
      He did the Scottish kirk betray,
      And all its privileges sold
      For pleasure here and love of gold;
      He fill’d the land with perjury,
      And all sorts of iniquity;
      And did the force of Scotland lead
      To persecute the woman’s seed.
      Judas who did his master sell,
      And afterwards went down to hell,
      Had no more mischief in his mind,
      Than Sharp this noble friend of mine.
      A paction past twixt him and me
      That I from skaith should keep him free:
      I gave him sorcery, gainst lead
      That shooting should not be his dead,
      And yet this did not him secure,
      He lost, his life on Magus-muir;
      There some stout-hearted men in Fyfe,
      With swords of steel did take his life;
      And very justly did him kill
      ’Cause he their brethren’s blood did spill.
      So to this place he did descend,
      But after him Lag did contend
      For my kingdom many a day:
      But now, alas! he’s ta’en away.
      What shall I say? for time would fail,
      To tell you of brave Lauderdale.
      A great apostate he did prove,
      Because with Balaam he did love
      The wages of iniquity.
      To keep him in prosperity;
      That his beastly belly might
      Have Epicurean delight;
      To spend his time in carnal pleasure,
      Which he esteem’d above all treasure.
      He was a member among those
      Who strictest models did compose,
      Upon the Presbyterian side
      But quickly he from them did slide.
      These covenants which once he swore,
      Most solemnly he did abjure,
      All tenderness he did cast off,
      On scripture he did droll and scoff.
      To prelate Sharp be thought no shame
      Above Rabshakeh to blaspheme.
      By habit he did curse and swear,
      He harlot’s company did bear.
      He did counsel and assist
      The king who after blood did thirst,
      To bring all to a final end
      For covenants that did contend.
      All public mischiefs in the land
      Were done at Lauderdale’s command.
      In Mitchel’s case he did perjure
      Himself most wrongfully he swore;
      For conscience he regarded not,
      Himself he wholly did devote
      To serve king Charles and myself,
      And to advance his wordly pelf
      Persisting in these courses still,
      Did grieve and anger one Cargil;
      So Charles, York, Monmouth and he,
      Were all deliver’d o’er to me;
      Rothes, M’Kenzie and Dalziel,
      Unto my lot each man they fell,
      A company of as brave men,
      As ever minister did send
      By such a sentence unto me;
      Whom I embrac’d most willingly,
      ’Cause formerly I did commend
      In many things these worthy men.
      Now those brave heroes I must leave,
      And some few instances I’ll give
      Of these brave actions which Lag did,
      That ought no longer to be hid.
      In Galloway he was well known
      His great exploits in it were shewn.
      He was my general in that place,
      He did the Presbyterians chase,
      Through moss and muir, and many a bog,
      They were pursu’d by my friend Lag.
      Saint’s monuments that’s here and there,
      If any will to them repair,
      ’Mongst others there you’ll read his name,
      And know he was a man of fame.
      On many there he forc’d the test,
      By perjury them sore opprest.
      And when he brought them to disgrace,
      He mocked them unto their face.
      From others he did take their gear,
      He neither mercy had nor fear,
      Yet this did not his wrath allay,
      For others he did seek to slay
      Cubine and Gordon, near Hallhill,
      He took their life their blood to spill,
      And left them hanging on a tree,
      For disobedience to me.
      John Bell of Whiteside he did slay,
      And would not give him time to pray
      And other four in that same hour
      He shot upon Kirkconnel Muir.
      Mayfield, Clement, and Irlingtown,
      Macrabet he brought also down;
      And made them all a sacrifice,
      His hellish fury to appease.
      Two men in Twingham some did find,
      And with hair tethers did them bind.
      Like sheep for slaughter there they lay,
      George Short and David Halliday;
      Till Lag came up and gave command
      To kill them quickly out of hand.
      Against them he had such despite,
      He would not let them live one night,
      So in that posture they were shot
      Most cruelly upon the spot.
      Lachlane and Wilson in the sea
      He drown’d cause they obey’d not me,
      Though they were of the weaker sex,
      No favour they of him did get:
      And cruelly he took the life
      Both of a young maid and a wife.
      The kirk by excommunication
      Did banish him out of their region;
      Because he would not satisfy,
      Them for his vile adultery:
      For he knew well that I could thole
      His vices all, without controul,
      That he should have both peace and ease,
      In doing things that I do please,
      He clave as close unto my law
      As any man I ever saw.
      In atheism his days did spend
      Until his time drew near an end.
      Then for the fashion he did say,
      That he was of the Popish way;
      Because a priest made him believe,
      That he to him would pardon give,
      And would from purgatory bring
      Him to a place where he would sing;
      But that was but a forged lie.
      For Lag lives hot and bien with me,
      It was in spite he money gave
      Unto the priest that greedy slave,
      For he had neither pith nor power
      To keep my friend from me an hour;
      For when I heard that he was dead,
      A legion of my den did lead
      Him to my place of residence,
      Where still he’ll stay, and not go hence:
      For purgatory I must tell,
      It is the lowest place in hell:
      Well plenish’d with the Romish sort,
      Where thousands of them do resort.
      There many a prince and pope doth dwell,
      Fast fetter’d in that lower cell,
      And from that place they ne’er win free,
      Though greedy priests for gain do lie.
      In making ignorants conceive,
      They’ll bring them from the infernal cave,
      Such as do bribe them well with gold
      As heaven with pelf were bought and sold.
      Sure that is but a vain deceit
      Contriv’d by Antichrist of late;
      To keep the worshippers of the Whore
      Senseless in sin, blind and secure;
      And to make priest look fat and fine,
      Who nought but carnal things do mind.
      For this is what I truly know,
      They come not back from whence they go,
      They who take their abode with me,
      From that place they are never free.
      This Lag will know and all the rest,
      Who of my lodging are possest.
      On earth no more they can serve me,
      But still I have their company:
      With this I must my grief allay,
      So I no more of Lag will say.


FINIS




  A

  WEDDING-RING,

  FIT FOR THE FINGER:

  LAID OPEN IN A SERMON,

  PREACHED AT A WEDDING IN ST. EDMOND’S.

  BY WILLIAM SECKER,

  LATE PREACHER OF THE GOSPEL.

  GENESIS ii. 18.

  And the LORD GOD said, It is not good that the man should be
  alone; I will make him an help-meet for him.

[Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




A

WEDDING-RING,

FIT FOR THE FINGER.

A SERMON ON GENESIS ii. 18.

  _And the Lord God said, it is not good that the man should be
  alone; I will make him a help-meet for him._


Human misery is to divine mercy, as a black soil to a sparkling
diamond; or as a sable cloud to the sun-beams, Psalm viii.
4.--_Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him?_

Man is, in his creation, angelical; in his corruption, diabolical;
in his renovation, theological; in his translation, majestical.

There were four silver channels in which the chrystal streams of
God’s affection ran to man in his creation.

1. In his preparation. 2. In his Assimilation. 3. In his
coronation. 4. In his Association.

1. In his preparation. Other creatures received the character of
their beings by a simple fiat; but there was a consultation at
his forming; not for the difficulty, but for the dignity of the
work. The painter is most studious about that which he intends to
make his master-piece. The four elements were taken out of their
elements to make up the perfection of man’s complexion: the fire
was purified, the earth was refined. When man was moulded, heaven
and earth was married; a body from the one was espoused to a soul
from the other.

2. In his assimilation. Other creatures were made like themselves,
but man was made like God, as the wax hath the impression of the
seal upon it. It is admirable to behold so fair a picture in such
coarse canvas, and so bright a character in so brown paper.

3. In his coronation. He that made man, and all the rest, made man
over all the rest; he was a little lord of a great lordship: this
king was crowned in his craddle.

4. In his association. Society is the solace of humanity; the world
would be a desert, without a comfort.

Most of man’s parts are made in pairs; now he that was double in
his perfection, must not be single in his condition.

_And the Lord said, &c._ These words are like the iron gate that
opened to Peter of its own accord, dividing themselves into three
parts:--

1. An Introduction: _And the Lord God said_. 2. An Assertion: _It
is not good that man should be alone_. 3. A Determination: _I will
make an help-meet for him_.

In the first there is a majesty proposed. In the second there is a
malady presented. In the third there is a remedy provided.

Once more let me put these grapes into the press.

1. The sovereignness of the expression: _And the Lord God said_. 2.
The solitaryness of the condition: _It is not good, &c._ 3. The
suitableness of the provision; _I will make, &c._

In the first there is the worth of veracity. In the second,
there is the want of society. In the third, there is the work of
divinity. Of these in their order. And first of the first.

1. The sovereignness of the expression: _And the Lord God said, &c._

Luke i. 70. “As he spoke by the mouths of his prophets.” In other
scriptures he used their mouths, but in this instance he makes
use of his own; they were the organs, and he the breath; they
the streams, and he the fountain. How he spake, it is hard to
determine: whether eternally, internally, or externally. We are not
to inquire into the manner of speaking, but into the matter that
is spoken; which leads me, like a directing star, from the suburbs
to the city, from the porch to the palace, from the founder of the
mine, to the treasure that is in it: _It is not good, &c._

In which we have two things:--

1. The Subject. 2. The Predicate.

The subject, _Man alone_. The predicate, _It is not good, &c._ 1.
The subject, _Man alone_. Take this in two branches.

1. As it is limited to one man.

2. As it is lengthened to all men.

FIRST, As it is limited to one man: And so it is taken
particularly: Man, for the first man. When all other creatures
had their mates, Adam wanted his; though he was the emperor of
the earth, and the admiral of the seas, yet in Paradise without a
companion; though he was truly happy, yet he was not fully happy;
though he had enough for his board, yet he had not enough for his
bed; though he had many creatures to serve him, yet he wanted a
creature to solace him; when he was compounded in creation, he must
be completed by conjunction; when he had no sin to hurt him, then
he must have a wife to help him: _It is not good that man should be
alone_.

SECONDLY, As it is lengthened to all men: And so it is taken
universally, Heb. xiii. 4. _Marriage is honourable unto all_.
It is not only warrantable, but honourable. The whole trinity
hath conspired together to set a crown of glory upon the head of
matrimony.

1. God the Father. Marriage was a tree planted within the walls of
Paradise; the flower first grew in God’s garden.

2. The Son. Marriage is a crystal glass, wherein Christ and the
saints do see each other’s faces.

3. The Holy Ghost, by his overshadowing of the blessed virgin. Well
might the world when it saw her pregnancy, suspect her virginity;
but her matremonial condition was a grave to that suspicion:
without this, her innocency had not prevented her infamy; she
needed a shield to defend that chastity abroad which was kept
inviolable at home.

Too many that have not worth enough to preserve their virginity,
have yet will enough to cover their unchastity; turning the
medicine of frailty into the mantle of filthiness. Certainly she is
mad that cuts off her leg to get her a crutch; or that venoms her
face to wear a mask.

Paul makes it one of the characters of those that should cherish
the faith, 1 Tim. iv. 3. _not to forbear marriage_; which is not
only lawful but also honourable; to forbid which, is damnably
sinful, and only taught by the influence of devils. One of the
Popes of Rome sprinkles this unholy and impure drop upon it,
_Carnis pollutionem et immundiliem_.

It is strange that should be a pollution which was instituted
before corruption; or that impurity which was ordained in the state
of innocency; or that they should make that to be a sin, which they
make to be a sacrament; strange stupidity!--But a bastard may be
laid at the door of chastity, and a leaden crown set upon a golden
head. Bellarmine (that mighty atlas of the Papal power) blows his
stinking breath upon it: “Better were it for a priest to defile
himself with many harlots, than to be married to one wife.”--These
children of the purple whore prefer monasteries before marriages,
a concubine before a companion.--They use too many women for their
lusts, to choose any for their love.--Their tables are so largely
spread that they cannot feed upon one dish. As for their exalting
of a virgin-state, it is like him that commanded fasting, when he
had filled his belly. Who knows not, that virginity is a pearl
of a sparkling lustre? but the one cannot be set up, without the
other be thrown down: No oblation will pacify the former, but the
demolishing of the latter. Though we find many enemies to the
choice of marriage, yet it is rare to find any enemies to the use
of marriage. They would pick the lock that wants the key, and pluck
the fruit that do not plant the tree. The Hebrews have a saying,
“that he is not a man that hath not a wife.” Though they climb too
high a bough, yet it is to be feared that such flesh is full of
imperfection, that is, not tending to propogation: though man alone
may be good, yet, _It is not good that man should be alone_. Which
leads me from the subject to the predicate, _It is not good_.

Now, it is not good that man should be in a single condition on a
threefold consideration.

1. In respect of sin, which would not else be prevented: Marriage
is like water, to quench the sparks of lust’s fire, 1 Cor. vii. 2.
_Nevertheless, to avoid fornication, let every man have his own
wife, &c._ Man needed no such physic when he was in perfect health.
Temptations may break nature’s best sense, and lay its Paradise
waste; but a single life is a prison of unruly desires, which is
daily attempted to be broken open. Some, indeed force themselves to
a single life, merely to avoid the charges of a married state; they
choose rather to live in their own sensuality, than to extinguish
those flames with an allowed remedy: _It is better to marry than to
burn_:--to be lawfully coupled, than to be lustfully scorched. It
is best to feed these flames with ordinate fuel.

2. It is not good in respect of mankind, which then would not
be propagated. The Roman historian, relating the ravishing of
the Sabine women, excused them thus, ‘Without them mankind would
fall from the earth, and perish.’ Marriages do turn mutability
into the image of eternity: it springs up new buds when the old
are withered. It is a great honour for a man to be the father of
one son, than to be the master of many servants. Without a wife,
children cannot be had lawfully; without a good wife, children
cannot be had comfortably. Man and woman, as the flock and the
scion, being grafted in marriage, are trees bearing fruit to the
world. Augustine says, ‘They are the first link of human society,
to which all the rest are joined.’ Mankind had long ago decayed,
and been like a taper fallen into the socket, if those breaches
which are made by mortality were not repaired by matrimony.

3. It is not good in regard of the church, which could not then
have been expatiated. Where there is no generation, there can be
no regeneration. Nature makes us creatures before grace makes us
Christians. If the loins of men had been less fruitful, the death
of Christ would have been less successful. It was a witty question
that one put to him that said, “Marriage fills the earth, but
virginity fills the heavens:” How can the heavens be full if the
earth be empty? Had Adam lived in innocency without matrimony,
there would have been no servants of God in the church militant,
nor no saints with God in the church triumphant. But I will not
sink this vessel by the over-burthen of it, nor press this truth to
death by laying too great a load upon its shoulders. There is one
knot which I must untie, before I make a farther progress, _viz._

1 Cor. vii. 1. _It is good for a man not to touch a woman._ Do all
the scriptures proceed out of the same mouth; and do they not all
speak the same truth? The God of unity will not indite discord;
and the God of verity cannot assert falsehood. If good and evil
be contraries, how contrary then are these two scriptures? Either
Moses mistakes God, or Paul mistakes Moses, about the point of
marriage. To which I shall give a double answer.

1. There is a public and a private good. In respect of one man, it
may be good not to touch a woman; but in respect of all men, _It is
not good that man should be alone_.

2. Moses speaks of the state of man created; Paul of the state
of man corrupted: Now, that which by institution was a mercy, by
corruption may become a misery; as pure water is tainted by running
through a miry channel, or as the sun-beams receive a tincture by
shining through a coloured glass. There is no print of evil in the
world, but sin was the stamp that made it. They that seek nothing
but weal in its commission, will find nothing but woe in the
conclusion. Which leads me from the solitariness of the condition,
_Man alone_, to the suitableness of the provision, _I will make an
help-meet for him_.

In which we have two parts, 1. The Agent, _I will make_. 2. The
Object, _An help_.

1. The Agent, _I will make_. We cannot build a house without tools,
but the Trinity is at liberty. To God’s omniscience there is
nothing impossible. We work by hands, without; but he works without
hands. He that made man meet for help, makes a meet-help for man.
Marriages are consented above, but consumated below, Prov. xviii.
22. Though man wants supply, yet man cannot supply his wants, James
i. 17. _Every good and perfect gift comes from above, &c._ A wife,
though she be not a perfect gift, yet she is a good gift. These
beams are darted from the Son of Righteousness. Hast thou a soft
heart? It is of God’s breaking. Hast thou a sweet wife? She is of
God’s making. Let me draw up this with double application.

1. When thou layest out for such a good on earth, look up to the
God of heaven; let him make thy choice for thee, who made his
choice of thee. Look above you, before you, about you; nothing
makes up the happiness of a married condition, like the holiness of
a mortified disposition: account not those the most worthy, that
are the most wealthy. Art thou matched to the Lord? Match in the
Lord. How happy are such marriages where Christ is at the wedding!
Let none but those who have found favour in God’s eyes, find favour
in yours.

2. Give God the tribute of your gratulation for your good
companions. Take head of paying your rent to a wrong landlord:
when you taste of the stream, reflect upon the spring that feeds
it. Now thou hast four eyes for thy speculation, four hands for
thy operation, four feet for thy abulation, and four shoulders
for thy sustentation. What the sin against the Holy Ghost is, in
point of divinity, that is unthankfulness, in point of morality, an
offence unpardonable. Pity it is, but that moon should be ever in
an eclipse, that will not acknowledge her beams to be borrowed from
the sun. He that praises not the giver, prizes not the gift. And so
I pass from the Agent to the Object, _A help_.

She must be so much, and no less; and so much, and no more. Our
ribs were not ordained to be our rulers. They are not made of the
head, to claim superiority; but out of the side, to be content
with equality. They desert the Author of nature, who invert the
order of nature. The woman was made for the man’s comfort, but
the man was not made for the woman’s command. Those Shoulders
aspire too high, that content not themselves with a room below
their heads. It is between a man and his wife in the house, as it
is between the sun and the moon in the heavens, when the greater
light goes down the lesser light gets up; when the one ends in
setting, the other begins in shining. The wife may be a sovereign
in her husband’s absence, but she must be subject in her husband’s
presence. As Pharaoh said to Joseph, so should the husband say to
his wife, “thou shalt be over my house, and according to thy word
shall all my people be ruled, only on the throne will I be greater
than thou,” Gen. xli. 40. The body of that household can never
make any good motion, whose bones are out of place. The woman
must be a help to the man in these four things:--1. To his piety.
2. To his society. 3. To his progeny. 4. To his prosperity. To
his piety, by the ferventness of her excitation. To his society,
by the fragrantness of her conversation. To his progeny, by the
fruitfulness of her education. To his prosperity, by her faithful
preservation.

1. To his piety, by the ferventness of her excitation, 1 Pet. ii.
7. Husband and wife should be as the two milch-kine, which were
coupled together to carry the ark of God; or as the two cherubims,
that looked one upon another, and both upon the mercy-seat; or as
the two tables of stone, on each of which were engraven the laws
of God. In some families married persons are like Jeremiah’s two
basket of figs, the one very good, the other very evil; or like
fire and water, whilst the one is flaming in devotion, the other is
freezing in corruption. There is a two-fold hinderance of holiness:
1. On the right side. 2. On the left. On the right side; when the
wife would run in God’s way, the husband will not let her go; when
the fore-horse in a team will not draw, he wrongs all the rest;
when the general of an army forbids a march, all the soldiers stand
still. Sometimes on the left: How did Solomon’s idolatrous wife
draw away his heart from heaven? A sinning wife was Satan’s first
ladder, by which he scaled the wall of Paradise, and took away the
fort-royal of Adam’s heart from him. Thus she, that should have
been the help of his flesh, was the hurt of his faith; his nature’s
under-proper, became his grace’s under-miner; and she that should
be a crown on the head, is a cross on the shoulders. The wife is
often to the husband as the ivy is to the oak, which draws away his
sap from him.

2. A help to his society, by the fragrantness of her conversation.
Man is an affectionate creature; now the woman’s behaviour should
be such towards the man, as to requite his affection by increasing
his delectation; that the new-born love may not be ruined before
it be rooted. A spouse should carry herself so to her husband, as
not to disturb his love by her contention, nor to destroy his love
by her alienation. Husband and wife should be like two candles
burning together, which makes the house more lightsome; or like
two fragrant flowers bound up in one nosegay, that augments its
sweetness; or like two well-tuned instruments, which sounding
together, make the more melodious music. Husband and wife, what are
they but as two springs meeting, and so joining their streams, that
they make but one current? It is an unpleasing spectacle to view
any contention in that conjunction.

3. To his progeny, by the fruitfulness of her education; that so
her children in the flesh may be God’s children in the spirit, 1
Sam. i. 11. Hannah she vows, if the Lord will give her a son, she
would give him to the Lord, to serve him. A spouse should be more
careful of her children’s breeding, than she should be fearful
of her children’s bearing. Take heed, lest these flowers grow in
the devil’s garden.--Though you bring them out in corruption, yet
do not bring them up to damnation!--Those are not mothers but
monsters, that whilst they should be teaching their children the
way to heaven with their lips, are leading them the way to hell
with their lives. Good education is the best livery you can give
them living; and it is the best legacy you can leave them dying.
You let out your cares to make them great, O lift up your prayers
to make them good, that before you die from them, you may see
Christ live in them. Whilst these twigs are green and tender, they
should be bowed towards God. Children and servants are in a family,
as passengers in a boat; husband and wife, they are as a pair of
oars, to row them to their desired haven. Let these small pieces of
timber be hewed and squared for the celestial building. By putting
a sceptre of grace into their hands, you will set a crown of glory
upon their heads.

4. A help to his prosperity, by her faithful preservation, being
not a wanderer abroad, but a worker at home. One of the ancients
speaks excellently: She must not be a field-wife, like Dinah;
nor a street-wife, like Thamar; nor a window-wife, like Jezabel.
Phildeas, when he drew a woman, painted her under a snail-shell;
that she might imitate that little creature, that goes no further
than it can carry its house upon its head. How many women are
there, that are not labouring bees, but idle drones; that take up
a room in the hive, but bring no honey to it; that are moths to
their husbands’ estates, spending when they should be sparing. As
the man’s part is, to provide industriously, so the woman’s is, to
preserve discreetly; the one must not be carelessly wanting, the
other must not be causelessly wanting; the man must be seeking with
diligence, the woman must be saving with prudence. The cock and hen
both scrape together in the dust-heap, to pick up something for the
little chickens. To wind up this on a short bottom.

1. If the woman be a help to the man, then let not the man cast
dirt on the woman.

Secundus being asked his opinion of a woman, said, _Viri
naufragium, domus tempestas, quietus impedimentum_, &c. But surely
he was a monster and not a man; fitter for a tomb to bury him, than
a womb to bear him. Some have styled them to be like clouds in the
sky; like motes in the sun; like snuffs in the candle; like weeds
in the garden. But it is not good to play the butcher with that
naked sex, that hath no arms but for embraces. A preacher should
not be silent for those who are silent from preaching: because they
are the weaker vessels, shall they be broken all to pieces? Thou
that sayest women are evil, it may be thy expression flows from thy
experience; but I shall never take that mariner for my pilot, that
hath no better knowledge than the splitting of his own ship. Wilt
thou condemn the frame of all, for the fault of one? As if it were
true logic, because some are evil therefore none are good. He hath
ill eyes that disdains all objects. To blast thy helper is to blame
thy Maker. In a word, we took our rise from their bowels, and may
take our rest in their bosoms.

2. Is the woman to be a help to the man? Then let the man be a help
to the woman. What makes some debtors to be such ill pay-masters,
but because they look at what is owing to them, but not at what
is owing by them. If thou wouldst have thy wife’s reverence, let
her have thy respect. To force a tear from this relation, is that
which neither benefits the husband’s authority to enjoin, nor the
wife’s duty to perform. A wife must not be sharply driven, but
sweetly drawn. Compassion may bend her, but compulsion will break
her. Husband and wife should act towards each other with consent,
not by constraint. There are four things wherein the husband is a
meet-help to the wife.

1. In his protection of her from injuries. It is well observed by
one, that the rib of which woman was made, was taken from under his
arm: As the use of the arm is to keep off blows from the body, so
the office of the husband is to ward off blows from the wife. The
wife is the husband’s treasury, and the husband the wife’s armoury.
In darkness he should be her sun, for direction; in danger he
should be her shield for protection.

2. In his providing for her necessities. The husband must
communicate maintenance to the wife, as the head conveys influence
to the members; thou must not be a drone, and she a drudge. A man
in a married estate, is like a chamberlain in an inn, there is
knocking for him in every room. Many persons in that condition,
waste that estate in luxury, which should supply their wife’s
necessity. They have neither the faith of a Christian, nor the love
of a husband! It is a sad spectacle to see a virgin sold with her
own money unto slavery, when services are better than marriages;
the one receives wages, whilst the other buy their fetters.

3. In his covering of her infirmities. Who would trample upon a
jewel, because it is fallen in the dirt, or throw away a heap of
wheat for a little chaff, or despise a golden wedge, because it
retains some dross? These roses have some prickles. Now husbands
should spread a mantle of charity over their wives’ infirmities.
They be ill birds that defile their own nests. It is a great deal
better you should fast than feast yourselves upon their failings.
Some husbands are never well longer than they are holding their
fingers in their wife’s sores. Such are like crows, that fasten
only upon carrion. Do not put out the candle because of the snuff.
Husbands and wives should provoke one-another to love; and they
should love one-another notwithstanding of provocation. Take heed
of poisoning those springs from whence the streams of your pleasure
flow.

4. By his delighting in her society: a wife takes sanctuary not
only in her husband’s house, but in his heart. The tree of love
should grow up in the family, as the tree of life grew up in the
garden of Eden. They that choose their love, should love their
choice. They that marry where they affect not, will affect where
they marry not. Two joined together without love, are but tied
together to make one another miserable. And so I pass to the last
stage of the text, _A help-meet_.

‘A help,’ there is her _fallness_; ‘A meet-help,’ there is her
_fitness_. The angels were too much above him; the inferior
creatures too much below him; he could not step up to the former,
nor could he stoop down to the latter; the one was out of his
reach, the other was out of his race; but the woman is a parallel
line drawn equal with him. Meet she must be in three things.

1. In the harmony of her disposition. Husband and wife should be
like the image in a looking-glass, that answers in all properties
to the face that stands before it; or like an echo, that returneth
the voice it receiveth. Many marriages are like putting new wine
into old bottles. An old man is not a meet-help for a young woman:
He that sets a grey head upon green shoulders, hath one foot in the
grave and another in the cradle: Yet, how many times do you see the
spring of youth wedded to the winter of old age?--A young man is
not a meet-help for an old woman; raw flesh is but an ill plaister
for rotten bones. He that in his non-age marries another in her
dotage, his lust hath one wife in possession, but his love another
in reversion.

2. In heraldry of her condition. Some of our European nations are
so strict in their junctions, that it is against their laws for
the commonality to couple with the gentry. It was well said by
one, “If the wife be too much above her husband, she either ruins
him by her vast expenses, or reviles him with her base reproaches;
if she be too much below her husband, either her former condition
makes her too generous, or her present mutation makes her too
imperious.”--Marriages are styled matches, yet amongst those many
that are married, how few are there that are matched! Husbands and
wives are like locks and keys, that rather break than open, except
the wards be answerable.

3. In the holiness of her religion. If adultery may seperate a
marriage contracted, idolatry may hinder a marriage not perfected.
Cattle of divers kinds were not to ingender. 2 Cor. vi. 14. _Be
not unequally yoked, &c._ It is dangerous taking her for a wife,
who will not take God for a husband. It is not meet that one flesh
should be of two spirits. Is there never a tree thou likest in the
garden but that which bears forbidden fruit? There are but two
channels in which the remaining streams shall run:--1. To those men
that want wives, how to choose them. 2. To those women who have
husbands, how to use them.

Marriage is the tying of such a knot, that nothing but death can
unloose. Common reason suggests so much, that we should be long
a-doing that which can but once be done. Where one design hath been
graveled in the sands of delay, thousands have been split on the
rock of precipitance. Rash adventures yield gain. Opportunities are
not like tides, that when one is past, another returns; but yet
take heed of flying without your wings; you may breed such agues in
your bones, that may shake you to your graves. 1. Let me preserve
you from a bad choice. 2. Present you with a good one. To preserve
you from a bad choice, take that in three things: 1. Choose not for
beauty. 2. Choose not for dowry. 3. Choose not for dignity. He that
loves to beauty, buys a picture; he that loves for dowry, makes a
purchase; he that leaps for dignity, matches with a multitude at
once. The first of these is too blind to be directed; the second
too base to be accepted; the third too bold to be respected. 1.
Choose not by your eyes. 2. Choose not by your hands. 3. Choose not
by your ears.

1. Choose not by your eyes, looking at the beauty of the person.
Not but this is lovely in a woman; but that this is not all for
which a woman should be beloved. He that had the choice of many
faces stamps this character upon them all, _favour is deceitful
and beauty is vain_. The sun is more bright in a clear sky, than
when the horizon is clouded; but if a woman’s flesh hath more of
beauty than her spirit hath of christianity, it is like poison in
sweet-meats, most dangerous: “The sons of God saw the daughters of
men, that they were fair,” Gen. vi. 2. One would have thought that
they should rather have looked for grace in the heart, than for
beauty in the face: take care of running at the fairest signs; the
swan hath black flesh under her white feathers.

2. Choose not by your hands, for the bounty of the portion. When
Cato’s daughter was asked why she did not marry? she thus replied,
she could not find the man that loved her person above her portion.
Men love curious pictures, but they would have them set in golden
frames. Some are so degenerate as to think any good enough, who
have but goods enough. Take heed, for sometimes the bag and baggage
go together. The person should be a figure, and the portion a
cypher, which added to her, advances the sum, but alone signifies
nothing. When Themistocles was to marry his daughter, two suitors
courted her together, the one rich and a fool, the other wise but
poor; and being asked which of the two he had rather his daughter
should have? he answered _Mallem virum fine pecuni_: ‘I had rather
she should have a man without money, than money without a man.’

3. Choose not by your ears, for the dignity of her parentage. A
good old stock may nourish a fruitless branch. There are many
children who are not the blessings, but the blemishes of their
parents; they are nobly descended, but ignobly minded: Such was
Aurelius Antonious, of whom it was said, that he injured his
country of nothing, but being the father of such a child. There
are many low in their descents, that are high in their deserts;
such as the cobler’s son, who became a famous captain; when a great
person upbraided the meanness of his original, “My nobility,” said
he, “began with me, but thy nobility ends with thee.” Piety is a
greater honour than parentage. She is the best gentlewoman that
is heir of her own deserts, and not the degenerate offspring of
another’s virtue. To present you with a good choice in three things.

1. Choose such a one as will be a subject to your dominion. Take
heed of yoking yourselves with untamed heifers.

2. Choose such a one as may sympathize with you in your affliction.
Marriage is just like a sea voyage, he that enters into this ship,
must look to meet with storms and tempests, 1 Cor. vii. 20. _They
that marry shall have trouble in the flesh_. Flesh and trouble are
married together, whether we marry or no; now a bitter cup is too
much to be drunk by one mouth. A heavy burthen is easily carried by
assistance of other shoulders. Husband and wife should neither be
proud flesh, nor dead flesh. You are fellow-members, therefore you
should have a fellow-feeling. While one stands safe on the shore,
pity should be shown to him that is tost on the sea. Sympathy in
suffering is like a dry house in a wet day.

3. Choose such a one as may be serviceable to your salvation. A man
may think he hath a saint, when he hath a devil; but take heed of a
harlot, that is false to thy bed; and of a hypocrite, that is false
to thy God.

2. To those women who have husbands, how to use them. In two things.

1. Carry yourselves towards them with obedience. Let their power
command you, that their praise may commend you. Though you may
have your husband’s heart, yet you should love his will. Till the
husband leaves commanding, the wife must never leave obeying. As
his injunctions must be lawful, so her subjection must be loyal.

2. With faithfulness. In creation, God made not woman for many men,
or many women for one man. Every wife should be to her husband as
Eve was to Adam, a whole world of women; and every husband should
be to his wife as Adam was to Eve, a whole world of men. When a
river is divided into many channels, the main current starves.

To conclude, Good servants are a great blessing; good children a
greater blessing; but a good wife is the greatest blessing: And
such a help let him seek for her that wants one, let him sigh for
her that hath lost one, let him take pleasure in her that enjoys
one.

Where there is nothing but a picture of virtue, or a few shadowy
qualities that may subsist without any real excellency, death
will hide them for ever in the night of despair. The blackness of
darkness will close upon the naked and wandering ghost; whilst its
loathsome remains are consigned to oblivion and putrefaction in the
prison of the grave, with the prospect of a worse doom hereafter.
But where there is a living image of true goodness begun in this
state, death will deliver it with safety into the finishing hand
of eternity, to be produced with every mark of honour in the
open view of heaven; where its now mortal partner, rescued from
the dishonours of the dust, and brightened into the graces of
eternal youth, shall rejoin it in triumph, to suffer the pangs
of separation no more. EVERLASTING JEHOVAH! what a crown of joy
will it confer on the preacher in that day, if this little service
shall be rewarded with the reflection of having contributed to
the salvation or improvement of any of these young persons whom
he now addresses! If ever thine ear was open to my cry, hear me,
O Lord! hear me in their behalf. What cannot thy spirit perform,
perform by the weakest hand? May that spirit seal them to the day
of redemption. At that glorious period, may I meet you all amongst
the redeemed of the Lord, happy to see you shining with immortal
splendour in the general assembly and church of the first born,
transported to think that I shall live with you for ever, and
joining in the gratulations of your fellow-angels around the throne
of God, when He shall, in the sight of all, clothe you with the
garment of salvation, and cover you with the robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom is decked with ornaments, and as a bride is adorned
with her Jewels. Amen.


LADY FRETFUL,

A SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE.

Her general style of conversation runs on the inconveniences to be
expected from this or that circumstance, and no one is so ingenious
in extracting unsuspected evil from plans of the fairest promise.
Is the weather fine, and a walk mentioned--It is hot--it is
dusty--the wind is in the east--there was rain in the morning--it
will be dirty--or it will rain before we reach home. Is she to go
out in the carriage; one road is too long for the horses--another
is unpleasant--another unsafe--and, in short, none are exactly
right. Yet she goes on these proposed expeditions, after all
possibility of pleasure has been reasoned and anticipated away.
If she is going out to dinner, she is sure the company will be
unpleasant--the servants will get drunk--she shall be robbed, or
overturned in coming home. If she is to have a party at home, she
knows every thing will go wrong--nobody will be amusing--the time
will hang heavy--the people will go away, execrating the stupidity
of the visit. If she sees any lady employed about a piece of work,
she prognosticates it will be unfashionable before it is finished,
she sees any one reading, she never new any good come of reading,
but to make young people unfit for conversation. If her husband is
going a hunting, she hates hunting, it is so dangerous. If he goes
for a ride, she is surprised he can take pleasure in sitting on his
horse for hours together. If he is in his library, she never saw
such a book-worm. If he sits in the parlour, she hates men always
at their wive’s apron strings. Thus does she sour every common
occurance of life by the most ingenious optical delusion, looking
at every thing in the worst point of view.

What absurdity to imbitter one’s alloted portion of happiness by
so obstinately persisting to anticipate inconvenience! Why not be
disposed to think fair appearances promise fair conclusions? Why,
if the sun shines in the morning, be unwilling to enjoy it then?
And, if it rains, why not be always inclined to hope the weather
will brighten?




  THE

  PILGRIM’S PROGRESS,

  FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW;
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.


[Illustration]

The progress of the Pilgrim is here represented by Christian
leaving the City of Destruction, in terror and alarm at its fate.
He is met by Evangelist, who, directed him to fly from the wrath to
come; and keep yonder shining light in his eye, where it should be
told him what to do.

[Illustration]

Christian had not proceeded far, till he fell into the slough of
Despond, and was relieved by one called Help, who set him on his
way. He was afterwards beguiled by Worldly-wiseman; but was again
put right way by Evangalist.

[Illustration]

Christian at length arrived at the gate, upon which was inscribed
“knock and it shall be opened.” He knocked and it was opened by one
Goodwill, who let him in. Beelzebub as he entered gave him a pull
but Christian escaped.

[Illustration]

Christian having fairly escaped Beelzebub and his emissaries;
was kindly welcomed by Goodwill, and shewed many rare sights by
Interpreter: he passed the walls of salvation and came to a cross,
where his bundle dropped off.

[Illustration]

Christian now being rid of his burden, pushed on more lightly,
and took the narrow path up the hill, and struggled hard till he
arrived at the arbour, prepared by the Lord of the place for weary
pilgrims, where he sat and refreshed himself.

[Illustration]

When Christian had got to the top of the hill he met two men
running, named Timorous and Mistrust; who said they had been bound
for Mount Zion, but meeting with two Lions, they were afraid:
Christian passed the Lions, who, being chained, could not hurt him.

[Illustration]

When Christian lift up his eyes, he beheld the Palace of Beautiful;
and after a few interrogations, was admitted by a damsel called
Discretion, who with her two sisters, Piety and Prudence, he held a
long conversation.

[Illustration]

After leaving these good damsels, Christian passed on his way; and
in the middle of the valley of Humiliation, he met with Apollion,
with whom he had a bloody struggle; Apollion throwing darts as
thick as hail: but at last Christian overcame.

[Illustration]

Now at the end of this valley was another called the valley of
the shadow of death; in the midst of which he perceived the mouth
of hell; from which flame and smoke issued out in such abundance,
that he was obliged to put up his sword and betake himself to
All-prayer.

[Illustration]

Shortly after this he came up with Faithful; with whom he held
sweet converse till they came to Vanity Fair. A merchant asking
what they would buy, they said the truth; which he took amiss, and
raised a hubbub; so that they were both taken up and put in a cage,
for public view.

[Illustration]

Christian and Faithful were brought before Mr. Hategood, to stand
their trial. Envy, Superstition, and Hypocrisy, were brought
forward as evidences, who did not fail to tell a partial story;
which a partial jury confirmed; and Faithful was condemned to die
at the stake.

[Illustration]

Faithful was then brought out and suffered at the stake: Thus came
he to his end, but there stood behind the multitude a chariot, and
horses into which he was taken up and carried through the clouds.
Christian escaping went on his way.

[Illustration]

Christian soon fell in with Hopeful, another pilgrim, with whom
he journeyed; and they having slept in the policies of Doubting
Castle, were taken prisoners, by Giant Despair, who treated them
harshly: a key found in Christian’s bosom, opened the doors, and
they made their escape.

[Illustration]

Having escaped from Giant Despair, they soon met with the Shepherds
of the Delectable Mountains. Leaving this country, they came to
the enchanted ground, where they fell in with some of the shining
inhabitants, of the City.

[Illustration]

Christian and Hopeful drawing nigh to the Celistial City, beheld
the streets were paved with pure gold, but there was a very deep
river through which they must pass the Pilgrims were alarmed and
begun to sink; but rose again and were welcomed on the other side
by two glorious persons.

[Illustration]

Christian’s wife and children wept for him, until a heavenly
messenger gave her a letter to follow her husband, and live with
him for ever. At first she was overcome, but taking the road with
all her children they fell in with Mercy, and went toward the
wicket gate.

[Illustration]

After they had got safely through the Slough of Despond, they
arrived at the gate, where they knocked a long time, till at length
the keeper called out “Who’s there,” and opened the gate, and
taking Christiana by the hand welcomed them saying “Suffer little
children to come unto me.”

[Illustration]

With some difficulty Mercy was admitted, and they safely arrived
at Interpreter’s house; supper being ready, and thanks given, they
partook of a hearty repast; Interpreter asked how she became a
pilgrim, she said, it was by the loss of her husband, and a letter
from the King of Zion.

[Illustration]

In the morning they were much refreshed. Greatheart was sent along
with them to guide them on their way. They passed the place where
the load fell from Christian’s back; and came to the place where
Simple, Sloth, and Presumption were hanging in chains.

[Illustration]

They soon arrived at the Hill of Difficulty; Greatheart shewed them
the spring where Christian drank; they then begun to ascend the
hill, but Christiana began to pant and want rest; but Greatheart
encouraged them, telling them they were near the Arbour, where they
would find rest.

[Illustration]

Being refreshed at the Arbour, and approaching Doubting Castle,
Greatheart determined to level it with the ground. He and the
giant had a severe fight, but the giant was overcome. They then
demolished the Castle, and released many prisoners, where many
strange sights were seen.

They still persevered on in their journey by the straight way, and
narrow path of pilgrims; occasionally meeting with difficulties and
encouragement, till they arrived at the land of Beulah, where the
sun shines night and day; and here they betook themselves to rest.

Now while they lay here there was a post came from the Celestial
City, with a letter to Christiana: the contents were “Hail good
woman! I bring thee good tidings that the master calleth for thee,
and expecteth that thou shouldst stand in his presence within these
ten days.”

Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. So the road was
full of people to see her take her journey. So she came forth and
entered the river with a beckon of farewell to those that follow
her to the river side. The last words she was heard to say, were,
“I come, Lord, to be with thee, and bless thee.”

So her children and friends returned to their place; for those that
waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight. So she
went and called and entered in at the gate with all the ceremonies
of Joy that Christian had done before her.


FINIS.




  DIVINE SONGS

  FOR

  THE USE OF CHILDREN.

  BY I. WATTS, D.D.

  “Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth.”

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PUBLISHED BY FRANCIS ORR AND SONS.

  1847.




DIVINE SONGS.


I.--_A General Song of Praise to God._

      1 How glorious is our heavenly King,
          who reigns above the sky!
        How shall a child presume to sing
          his dreadful Majesty?

      2 How great his power is, none can tell,
          Nor think how large his grace;
        Not man below, nor saints that dwell
          on high before his face:

      3 Nor angels that stand round the Lord,
          can search his secret will;
        But they perform his heavenly word,
          and sing his praises still.

      4 Then let me join this holy train,
          and my first off’rings bring;
        The eternal God will not disdain
          to hear an infant sing.

      5 My heart resolves, my tongue obeys,
          and angels shall rejoice,
        To hear their mighty Maker’s praise
          sound from a feeble voice.


II.--_Praise for Creation and Providence._

      1 I sing the Almighty power of God,
          that made the mountains rise,
        That spread the flowing seas abroad,
          and built the lofty skies.

      2 I sing the wisdom that ordain’d
          the sun to rule the day;
        The moon shines full at his command,
          and all the stars obey.

      3 I sing the goodness of the Lord,
          that filled the earth with food;
        He formed the creatures with his word,
          and then pronounc’d them good.

      4 Lord, how many wonders are display’d
          where’er I turn mine eye!
        If I survey the ground I tread,
          or gaze upon the sky.

      5 There’s not a plant or flower below,
          but makes thy glories known;
        And clouds arise, and tempests blow,
          by order from thy throne.

      6 Creatures (as numerous as they be)
          are subject to thy care;
        There’s not a place where we can flee,
          but God is present there.

      7 In heaven he shines with beams of love,
          with wrath in hell beneath;
        ’Tis on his earth I stand or move,
          and ’tis his air I breath.

      8 His hand is my perpetual guard,
          he keeps me with his eye;
        Why should I then forget the Lord,
          who is for ever nigh?


III.--_Praise to God for our Redemption._

      1 Blest be the wisdom and the power,
          the justice and the grace,
        That joined in counsel to restore
          and save our ruin’d race.

      2 Our father ate forbidden fruit,
          and from his glory fell;
        And we, his children, thus were brought
          to death, and near to hell.

      3 Blest be the Lord that sent his Son
          to take our flesh and blood;
        He for our lives gave up his own,
          to make our peace with God.

      4 He honour’d all his Father’s laws,
          which we have disobey’d;
        He bore our sins upon the cross,
          and our full ransom paid.

      5 Behold him rising from the grave;
          behold him raised on high;
        He pleads his merits there to save
          transgressors doom’d to die.

      6 There on a glorious throne he reigns
          and by his power divine,
        Redeems us from the slavish chains
          of Satan and of sin.

      7 Then shall the Lord to judgment come,
          and with a sovereign voice
        Shall call and break up every tomb,
          while waking saints rejoice.

      8 O may I then with joy appear
          before the Judge’s face;
        And with the blessed assembly there,
          sing his redeeming grace!


IV.--_Spiritual and Temporal Mercies._

      1 Whene’er I take my walks abroad,
          how many poor I see!
        What shall I render to my God
          for all his gifts to me!

      2 Not more than others I deserve,
          yet God has given me more;
        For I have food, while others starve,
          or beg from door to door.

      3 How many children in the street
          half naked I behold!
        While I am clothed from head to feet,
          and covered from the cold!

      4 While some poor wretches scarce can tell
          where they may lay their head,
        I have a house wherein to dwell,
          and rest upon my bed.

      5 While others early learn to swear,
          and curse, and lie, and steal,
        Lord, I am taught thy name to fear,
          and do thy holy will.

      6 Are these thy favours day by day,
          to me above the rest?
        Then let me love thee more than they
          and try to serve thee best.


V.--_Praise for Birth and Education in a Christian Land._

      1 Great God! to thee my voice I raise,
          to thee my youngest hours belong;
        I would begin my hours with praise,
          till growing years improve the song.

      2 ’Tis to thy sov’reign grace I owe
          that I was born on British ground,
        Where streams of heavenly mercy flow,
          and words of sweet salvation sound.

      3 I would not change my native land
          for rich Peru, with all her gold:
        A nobler prize lies in my hand
          than East, or Western Indies hold.

      4 How do I pity those that dwell
          where ignorance and darkness reign;
        They know no heaven they fear no hell,
          the endless joy, the endless pain!

      5 Thy glorious promises, O Lord!
          kindle my hope and my desire:
        While all the preachers of thy word
          warn me to ’scape eternal fire.

      6 Thy praise shall still employ my breath,
          since thou hast mark’d my way to heaven,
        Nor will I run the road to death,
          and waste the blessings thou hast given.


VI.--_Praise for the Gospel._

      1 Lord, I ascribe it to thy grace,
          and not to chance, as others do,
        That I was born of Christian race,
          and not a Heathen or a Jew.

      2 What would the ancient Jewish kings
          and Jewish prophets once have given
        Could they have heard those glorious things
          which Christ reveal’d and brought from heaven!

      3 How glad the heathens would have been,
          that worshipp’d idols, wood, and stone,
        If they the book of God had seen,
          or Jesus and his gospel known!

      4 Then if this gospel I refuse,
          how shall I e’er lift up mine eyes?
        For all the Gentiles and the Jews
          against me will in judgment rise.


VII.--_The Excellency of the Bible._

      1 Great God, with wonder and with praise
          on all thy works I look;
        But still thy wisdom, power, and grace,
          shine brightest in thy book.

      2 The stars, that in their courses roll,
          have much instruction given;
        But thy good word informs my soul
          how I may climb to heaven.

      3 The fields provide me food, and show
          the goodness of the Lord;
        But fruits of life and glory grow
          in thy most holy Word.

      4 Here are choicest treasures hid;
          here my best comfort lies;
        Here my desires are satisfied,
          and hence my hopes arise.

      5 Lord, make me understand thy law,
          show what my faults have been;
        And from thy gospel let me draw
          pardon for all my sin.

      6 Here would I learn how Christ has died
          to save my soul from hell;
        Not all the books on earth beside
          such heavenly wonders tell.

      7 Then let me love my Bible more,
          and take a fresh delight
        By day to read thy wonders o’er,
          and meditate by night.


VIII.--_Praise to God for learning to read._

      1 The praises of my tongue
          I offer to the Lord,
        That I was taught and learn’d so young
          to read his holy word.

      2 That I am brought to know
          the danger I was in,
        By nature, and by practice too,
          a wedded slave to sin:

      3 That I am led to see
          I can do nothing well;
        And whither shall a sinner flee
          to save himself from hell?

      4 Dear Lord! this book of thine
          informs me where to go
        For grace to pardon all my sin,
          and make me holy too.

      5 Here I can read and learn
          how Christ, the Son of God,
        Did undertake our great concern,--
          our ransom cost his blood.

      6 And now he reigns above,
          he sends his Spirit down
        To show the wonders of his love,
          and make his gospel known.

      7 O may that Spirit teach,
          and make my heart receive
        Those truths which all thy servants preach,
          and all thy saints believe!

      8 Then shall I praise the Lord
          in a most cheerful strain,
        That I was taught to read his Word,
          and have not learned in vain.


IX.--_The All-seeing God._

      1 Almighty God, thy piercing eye
          strikes through the shades of night,
        And our most secret actions lie
          all open to thy sight.

      2 There’s not a sin that we commit,
          nor wicked word we say,
        But in thy dreadful book ’tis writ
          against the judgment day.

      3 And must the crimes that I have done
          be read and publish’d there?
        Be all exposed before thy Son,
          while men and angels hear?

      4 Lord, at thy feet asham’d I lie,
          upward I dare not look;
        Pardon my sins before I die,
          and blot them from thy book.

      5 Remember all the dying pains
          that my Redeemer felt,
        And let his blood wash out my stains,
          and answer for my guilt.

      6 O may I now for ever fear
          T’ indulge a sinful thought,
        Since the great God can see and hear
          and writes down every fault.


X.--_Solemn Thoughts of God and Death._

      1 There is a God that reigns above,
          lord of the heavens and earth and seas,
        I fear his wrath, I ask his love,
          and with my lips I sing his praise.

      2 There is a law which he has writ,
          to teach us all what we must do;
        My soul, to his commands submit,
          for they are holy, just and true.

      3 There is a gospel of rich grace,
          whence sinners all their comfort draw
        Lord, I repent and seek thy face,
          for I have often broke thy law.

      4 There is an hour when I must die,
          nor do I know how soon ’twill come;
        A thousand children young as I
          are called by death to hear their doom.

      5 Let me improve the hours I have,
          before the day of grace is fled;
        There’s no repentance in the grave,
          nor pardon offered to the dead.

      6 Just as a tree cut down, that fell
          to north or southward, there it lies:
        So man departs to heaven or hell,
          fix’d in the state wherein he dies.


XI.--_Heaven and Hell._

      1 There is beyond the sky,
          a heaven of joy and love;
        And holy children when they die,
          go to that world above.

      2 There is a dreadful hell,
          and everlasting pains,
        Where sinners must with devils dwell,
          in darkness, fire, and chains.

      3 Can such a wretch as I
          escape this cursed end?
        And may I hope whene’er I die,
          I shall to heaven ascend?

      4 Then will I read and pray,
          while I have life and breath,
        Lest I should be cut off to-day,
          and sent t’ eternal death.


XII.--_The advantages of early Religion._

      1 Happy the child whose tender years
          receive instruction well;
        Who hates the sinner’s path, and fears
          the road that leads to hell.

      2 When we devote our youth to God,
          ’tis pleasing in his eyes;
        A flower, when offer’d in the bud,
          is no vain sacrifice.

      3 ’Tis easier work, if we begin
          to fear the Lord betimes;
        While sinners, who grow old in sin,
          are hardened in their crimes.

      4 ’Twill save us from a thousand snares,
          to mind religion young;
        Grace will preserve our following years,
          and make our virtue strong.

      5 To thee, Almighty God, to thee,
          our childhood we resign;
        ’Twill please us to look back and see
          that our whole lives were thine.

      6 Let the sweet work of prayer and praise
          employ my youngest breath;
        Thus I’m prepared for longer days,
          or fit for early death.


XIII.--_The Danger of Delay._

      1 Why should I say, “’Tis yet too soon
          to seek for heaven, or think of death?”
        A flower may fade before ’tis noon,
          and I this day may lose my breath.

      2 If this rebellious heart of mine
          Despise the gracious call of Heaven,
        I may be hardened in my sin,
          and never have repentance given.

      3 What if the Lord grew wroth and swear,
          while I refuse to read and pray,
        That he’ll refuse to lend an ear
          to all my groans another day.

      4 What if his dreadful anger burn
          while I refuse his offer’d grace,
        And all his love to fury turn,
          and strike me dead upon the place.

      5 ’Tis dangerous to provoke our God!
          his power and vengeance none can tell;
        One stroke of his Almighty rod
          shall send young sinners down to hell.

      6 Then ’twill for ever be in vain
          to cry for pardon and for grace,
        To wish I had my time again,
          or hope to see my Maker’s face.


XIV.--_Against Lying._

      1 O ’tis a lovely thing for youth
          to walk betimes in wisdom’s way:
        To fear a lie, to speak the truth,
          that we may trust to all they say!

      2 But liars we can never trust,
          tho’ they should speak the thing that’s true;
        And he that does one fault at first,
          and lies to hide it, makes it two.

      3 Have we not known, nor heard, nor read,
          how God abhors deceit and wrong,
        How Ananias was struck dead,
          Caught with a lie upon his tongue?

      4 So did his wife Sapphira die,
          when she came in, and grew so bold,
        As to confirm the wicked lie
          that just before her husband told.

      5 The Lord delights in them that speak
          the words of truth; but every liar
        Must have his portion in the lake
          that burns with brimstone and with fire.

      6 Then let me always watch my lips,
          lest I be struck to death and hell,
        Since God a book of reck’ning keeps
          for every lie that children tell.


XV.--_Against Quarrelling and Fighting._

      1 Let dogs delight to bark and bite
          for God hath made them so;
        Let bears and lions growl and fight,
          for ’tis their nature too;

      2 But children, you should never let
          such angry passions rise;
        Your little hands were never made
          to tear each other’s eyes.

      3 Let love through all your actions run,
          and all your words be mild;
        Live like the blessed Virgin’s Son,
          that sweet and lovely Child.

      4 His soul was gentle as a lamb;
          and, as his stature grew,
        He grew in favour both with man
          and God his Father too.

      5 Now Lord of all he reigns above;
          and from his heavenly throne
        He sees what children dwell in love,
          and marks them for his own.


XVI.--_Love between Brothers and Sisters_.

      1 Whatever brawls disturb the street,
          there should be peace at home;
        Where sisters dwell and brothers meet
          quarrels should never come.

      2 Birds in their little nests agree,
          and ’tis a shameful sight
        When children of one family
          fall out, and chide, and fight.

      3 Hard names at first, & threat’ning words,
          that are but noisy breath,
        May grow to clubs and naked swords,
          to murder and to death.

      4 The devil tempts one mother’s son
          to rage against another;
        So wicked Cain was hurried on
          till he had kill’d his brother.

      5 The wise will make their anger cool,
          at least before ’tis night;
        But in the bosom of a fool
          it burns till morning light.

      6 Pardon, O Lord, our childish rage,
          our little brawls remove,
        That, as we grow to riper age,
          our hearts may all be love.


XVII.--_Against Idleness and Mischief._

      1 How doth the little busy bee
          improve each shining hour,
        And gather honey all the day
          from every opening flower.

      2 How skilfully she builds her cell!
          how neat she spreads her wax!
        And labours hard to store it well
          with the sweet food she makes.

      3 In works of labour, or of skill,
          I would be busy too:
        For Satan finds some mischief still
          for idle hands to do.

      4 In books, or works, or healthful play
          let my first years be past,
        That I may give for every day
          some good account at last.


XIII.--_Against Evil Company._

      1 Why should I join with those in play
          in whom I’ve no delight,
        Who curse and swear, but never pray
          who call ill names, and fight?

      2 I hate to hear a wanton song;
          their words offend my ears;
        I should not dare defile my tongue
          with language such as theirs.

      3 Away from fools I’ll turn my eyes,
          nor with the scoffers go;
        I would be walking with the wise,
          that wiser I may grow.

      4 From one rude boy that’s used to mock,
          ten learn the wicked jest;
        One sickly sheep infects the flock,
          and poisons all the rest.

      5 My God, I hate to walk or dwell
          with sinful children here;
        Then let me not be sent to hell,
          where none but sinners are.


XIX.--_Against Pride in Clothes._

      1 Why should our garments, made to hide
        Our parents’ shame, provoke our pride?
        The art of dress did ne’er begin
        Till Eve, our mother, learned to sin.

      2 When first she put the covering on,
        Her robe of innocence was gone;
        And yet her children vainly boast
        In the sad marks of glory lost.

      3 How proud we are! how fond to show
        Our clothes! and call them rich and new!
        When the poor sheep and silkworms wore
        That very clothing long before.

      4 The tulip and the butterfly
        Appear in gayer coats than I;
        Let me be dress’d fine as I will,
        Flies, worms, and flowers excel me still.

      5 Then will I set my heart to find
        Inward adornings of the mind;
        Knowledge and virtue, truth and grace,
        These are the robes of richest dress.

      6 No more shall worms with me compare;
        This is the raiment angels wear;
        The Son of God, when here below,
        Put on this blest apparel too.

      7 It never fades, it ne’er grows old,
        Nor fears the rain, nor moth, nor mould;
        It takes no spot, but still refines;
        The more it’s worn, the more it shines.

      8 In this on earth should I appear,
        Then go to heav’n and wear it there,
        God will approve it in his sight;
        ’Tis his own work, and his delight.


XX.--_Obedience to Parents._

      1 Let children that would fear the Lord
          hear what their teachers say;
        With reverence meet their parents’ word,
          and with delight obey.

      2 Have we not heard what dreadful plagues
          are threat’ned by the Lord,
        To him that breaks his father’s law,
          or mocks his mother’s word?

      3 What heavy guilt upon him lies!
          how cursed is his name!
        The ravens shall pick out his eyes,
          and eagles eat the same.

      4 But those who worship God, and give
          their parents honour due,
        Here on this earth they long shall live,
          and live hereafter too.


XXI.--_The Child’s Complaint._

      1 Why should I love my sports so well,
          so constant at my play,
        And lose the thoughts of heaven and hell,
          and then forget to pray?

      2 What do I read my Bible for,
          but, Lord, to learn thy will?
        And shall I learn to know thee more,
          and less obey thee still?

      3 How senseless is my heart and wild!
          how vain are all my thoughts!
        Pity the weakness of a child,
          and pardon all my faults.

      4 Make me thy heav’nly voice to hear,
          and let me love to pray,
        Since God will lend a gracious ear
          to what a child can say.


XXII.--_A Morning Song._

      1 My God, who makes the sun to know
          his proper hour to rise,
        And to give light to all below,
          dost send him round the skies:

      2 When from the chambers of the east
          his morning race begins,
        He never tires, nor stops to rest,
          but round the world he shines;

      3 So, like the sun, would I fulfil
          the business of the day,
        Begin my work betimes, and still
          march on my heav’nly way.

      4 Give me, O Lord, thine early grace,
          nor let my soul complain
        That the young morning of my days
          has all been spent in vain.


XXIII.--_An Evening Song._

      1 And now another day is gone,
          I’ll sing my Maker’s praise;
        My comforts every hour make known
          his providence and grace.

      2 But how my childhood runs to waste
          my sins, how great their sum!
        Lord, give me pardon for the past,
          and strength for days to come.

      3 I lay my body down to sleep;
          let angels guard my head,
        And through the hours of darkness keep
          their watch around my bed.

      4 With cheerful heart I close my eyes,
          since thou wilt not remove;
        And in the morning let me rise
          rejoicing in thy love.


XXIV.--_For the Lord’s Day Morning._

      1 This is the day when Christ arose
          so early from the dead;
        Why should I keep my eyelids close,
          and waste my hours in bed?

      2 This is the day when Jesus broke
          the powers of death and hell;
        And shall I still wear Satan’s yoke,
          and love my sins so well?

      3 To-day with pleasure Christians meet,
          to pray, and hear thy Word,
        And I will go with cheerful feet
          to learn thy will, O Lord.

      4 I’ll leave my sport to read and pray,
          and so prepare for heaven:
        O may I love this blessed day
          the best of all the seven!


XXV.--_For the Lord’s Day Evening._

      1 Lord, how delightful ’tis to see
        A whole assembly worship thee!
        At once they sing, at once they pray,
        They hear of heaven and learn the way.

      2 I have been there, and still would go,
        ’Tis like a little heaven below;
        Nor all my pleasures, nor my play,
        Shall tempt me to forget that day.

      3 O write upon my mem’ry, Lord,
        The test and doctrines of thy Word,
        That I may break thy laws no more,
        But love thee better than before.

      4 With thoughts of Christ, and things divine
        Fill up this foolish heart of mine;
        That, hoping pardon through his blood,
        I may lie down, and wake with God.


FINIS.




  THE

  PLANT OF RENOWN:

  BEING

  TWO SERMONS,

  PREACHED BY THE

  REV. EBENEZER ERSKINE,

  LATE MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL IN STIRLING.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE

PLANT OF RENOWN.


SERMON I.

EZEKIEL, xxxiv. 29.

_And I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown._

If we cast our eyes back upon the foregoing part of this chapter,
we shall find a very melancholy scene casting up; we shall find
the flock and heritage of God scattered, robbed and peeled by the
civil and ecclesiastical rulers that were in being in that day; a
day much like to the day wherein we live: the ruin of the church
of Christ in all ages and periods of the world, has been owing to
combinations betwixt corrupt churchmen, and corrupt statesmen; and
so you will find it. In the preceding part of this chapter there
is a high charge brought in against the Shepherds of Israel, and
a terrible and awful threatening denounced by the great and chief
shepherd against them, for the bad treatment that the flock of
Christ had met with in their hands: However the sheep of Christ
may be fleeced, and scattered, and spoiled, yet the Lord looks
on them; and many great and precious promises are made for their
encouragement in that evil day; you may read them at your own
leisure, for I must not stay upon them just now. But among all the
rest of the promises that are made, Christ is the chief; Christ is
the To-look of the church, whatever trouble she be in. In the 7th
chapter of Isaiah, the church had a trembling heart, God’s Israel
was shaken as ever you saw the leaves of the wood shaken by the
wind, by reason of two Kings combining against them: Well, the Lord
tells them, “A Virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and call his
name IMMANUEL.” But, might not the church say, what is that to us?
What encouragement doth this afford in the present distress? Why,
the Messiah is to come of the tribe of Judah and the family of
David; and therefore that tribe and family must be preserved, in
order to the accomplishment of that promise. Whatever distance of
time, suppose hundreds or thousands of years, may intervene before
the actual coming of the Messiah; yet the promise of his coming,
as it is the ground of your faith for eternal salvation, so it
is a security for the present, that the enemy shall not prevail,
to the total ruin of Judah and the royal family of David. In all
the distresses of the church, Christ is always presented to her,
in the promise, as the object of her faith, and the ground of her
consolation; and accordingly, “They looked to him,” in the promise,
“and were lightened; and their faces were not ashamed.” He is here
promised under the notion of _God’s Servant_; and, in the words of
the text, he is promised as a _Renowned Plant_, that was to rise in
the fulness of time. And, blessed be God, he has sprung up, and is
in heaven already, and has overtopt all his enemies, and all his
enemies shall be his foot-stool.

_First_, Here then, you have a comfortable promise of the Messiah;
where, again, you may notice the promiser: _I, I will raise up,
&c._ It is a great _I_, indeed; it is JEHOVAH, in the person of
the FATHER: It was he that in a peculiar manner, sent him; “God so
loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.--In
the fulness of time he sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made
under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we
might receive the adoption of Sons.” God promised to send him, and
accordingly he has actually fulfilled his promise. Again,

_Secondly_, We may notice the blessing promised, and that is, a
_Plant of Renown_.--Christ gets a great many metaphorical names
and descriptions in Scripture:--Sometimes he is called a Rose,
sometimes he is called a Sun, and sometimes he is called a Door;
sometimes he is called the Tree of Life; sometimes he is called one
thing, and sometimes another; And he is content to be called any
thing, to make himself known to us; and here he is called a Plant,
and a _Renowned Plant_; but more of this afterwards. But then,

_Thirdly_, We have the production of this Plant, _I will raise
him up_. Hell will endeavour to keep him down; the Devil and his
Angels will endeavour to smother him, when he sets his head above
ground: So we find Satan sends Herod, and Herod sends the Bloody
Dragoons to murder him, when he came into the world: But let hell
do its utmost, as it hath done in all ages, and is doing this day,
to smother that plant, up it will be; _I will raise him up_, and
therefore he shall prosper. But then again,

_Fourthly_, We may notice here, for whom, or for what end, for
whose use and benefit it is: _I will raise up for them a Plant
of Renown_. Who these are, you will see by casting your eye on
the former part of this chapter; it is for the Lord’s flock, his
oppressed heritage, that are borne down by wicked rulers, civil and
ecclesiastic: _I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown_, and he
will be their deliverer.

The doctrine that naturally arises from this first clause of the
verse, is in short this, “That Christ is a Plant of Renown, of
God’s raising up, for the benefit and advantage of his people,
or for their comfort and relief in all their distresses; he is a
Renowned Plant of God’s raising up.”

Now, in discoursing this doctrine, if time and strength would
allow, I might,

_First_, Premise a few things concerning this blessed Plant.

_Secondly_, I might enquire, why he is called a Plant of Renown?

_Thirdly_, Speak a little to the raising up of this Plant.

_Fourthly_, For whom he is raised up.

_Fifthly_, For what end. And then,

_Lastly_, Apply.

As to the first of these, namely,

_First_, To premise a few things concerning this blessed Plant.

_First_, I would have you to know what is here attributed and
ascribed to Christ: It is not to be understood absolutely of him
as God, but officially as he is Mediator and Redeemer. Considering
him absolutely as God, this cannot be properly said of him, that
he was raised up: for he is God co-equal and co-essential with the
Father; But viewing him as Mediator, he is a Plant, as it were of
God’s training. You will see from the context, all that is said of
Christ has a respect to him as a Mediator, that he was to be God’s
Servant to do his work: In that consideration he is here called a
Plant, and a _Plant of Renown_. Hence, Zacharias, when speaking of
him, has a phrase much to the same purpose; “He hath raised up a
Horn of Salvation for us in the house of his servant David.” Again,

_Secondly_, Another thing I would have you to remark, is, That this
Plant is but small and little in the eyes of a blind world. He was
little looked upon when he sprung up in his Incarnation; and when
he was here in a state of humiliation, men looked upon him “as a
Root sprung up out of a dry ground; they saw no comeliness in him
why he should be desired.” And to this day, though he be in a state
of exaltation at the right hand of God, yet he is little thought
of, and looked upon, by the generality of mankind, and the hearers
of the gospel; _He is despised and rejected of men_. But then,

_Thirdly_, Another thing I would have you to remark, is, That
however contemptible this Plant of Renown is in the eyes of a blind
world, yet he is the tallest Plant in all God’s Lebanon, there is
not the like of him in it, “He is fairer than the children of men;”
and, “He is as the apple-tree among the trees of the wood,” If ever
you saw him, you will be ready to say so too, and with David, “Whom
have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon the earth that I
desire besides thee.” Again,

_Fourthly_, Another thing I remark, is, That this blessed Plant
of Renown, he was cut down in his death, and sprung up gloriously
in his resurrection; the sword of divine justice hewed down this
Plant upon Mount Calvary, but within three days he sprung up again
more glorious and more beautiful and amiable than ever; and “He was
declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the Spirit
of holiness, by his resurrection from the dead.”

_Lastly_, I would have you to remark, that all the little plants in
the garden are ingrafted in this Plant of Renown: “I am the Vine,
ye are the branches; he that abideth in me, and I in him, the same
bringeth forth much fruit: For without me ye can do nothing--I
am a green fir tree, from me is thy fruit found.” If you be not
ingrafted firs, in this Plant, you will never grow; and all the
trees that are not planted in him, they are all but weeds. There is
a time coming when all the weeds will be plucked up, and therefore
take heed that you be ingrafted in him by a faith of God’s
operation. So much for the first thing I proposed.

The second thing was to shew, that he is a Renowned Plant. He is
renowned in heaven, and he is renowned on earth, and will be so,
_For his name shall endure for ever_, Psal. lxxii. 17. O he is
renowned!

For what, say you, is he renowned? I might here enter upon a very
large field; I shall only tell you,

1. That he is renowned in his Person. There was never the like of
him! The two natures, God and Man, are joined together in one, in
him: Did you ever see that? If you have not seen that, you have not
seen the Mystery of Godliness: He is the most renowned person in
heaven; but he is IMMANUEL, _God manifested in the flesh_.--Then he
is,

2. Renowned for his Pedigree: _Who can declare his Generation?_
Considering him as God, his eternal generation from the Father
cannot be told. We can tell you he is the only begotten of the
Father, but we cannot tell you the manner of his generation; it is
a secret that God has drawn a vail upon, and it is dangerous to
venture into a search of it; and they that have attempted it, have
commonly been boged into Arian, Arminian, and Sabellian errors.
Considering him as man, he is sprung of a race of ancient Kings,
a famous catalogue of them you read of in first of Matthew.--And
who can declare his generation even as man? For he was born of a
Virgin, and conceived by the overshadowing power of the Highest.
Then,

3. He is renowned for his name.--“He hath a Name above every name
that can be named, whether in this world or that which is to come.”

4. He is renowned for his Wisdom.--For, “All the treasures of
wisdom and knowledge are in him.”

5. He is renowned for his Power.--For he is not only _the Wisdom of
God_, but _the Power of God_. He is “the Man of God’s right hand,
even the Son of Man, whom he hath made strong for himself.”

6. He is renowned for his Veracity and Fidelity. For, “Faithfulness
is the girdle of his loins.” Have you got a word from him? Depend
upon it, it is a sicker word, it does not fail: _The word of the
Lord endures for ever_, when heaven and earth shall pass away.

7. He is renowned for his Righteousness. For, “He hath brought
in an everlasting Righteousness, whereby the Law is magnified
and made honourable;” and by the imputation of which, the guilty
transgressors are acquitted: “He was made sin for us, who knew no
sin, that we might be made the Righteousness of God in him:” That
is His name, _The Lord our Righteousness_.

8. He is renowned for his fulness.--For, “All the fulness of the
Godhead dwells bodily in him:” He is _full of grace and truth_;
full of all created and uncreated excellencies.

9. He is renowned for his Love.--What but love brought him out of
the bosom of the Father to this lower world? What but love made him
lay down his life for his people?

10. He is renowned for his Liberality. He has a full hand and
a free heart, as we use to say; he gives without money, and he
invites all to come and share of his fulness.

11. He is renowned for his Constancy. He is “Jesus Christ, the same
to-day, yesterday and for ever.” The best of men, will fail us when
we trust them; they will run like splinters into our hands, when we
lean upon them: But, sirs, you will find Christ always the same,
to-day, yesterday and for ever. And then,

12. He is renowned for his Authority and Dominion. It is great,
and extends far and wide, whether in heaven above, or in the earth
beneath: And his dominion reaches “from sea to sea, and from the
river unto the ends of the earth:” And all the kings of the earth
are but his vassals.

Thus, I say, Christ in every respect is renowned.

But here, to keep by the phraseology of the text, He is a renowned
Plant: Wherein is he renowned?

_First_, I say he is renowned for his Antiquity: “I was set up from
everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was,” &c. All
the plants in the higher and lower gardens of God, they are but
just upstarts in comparison of him: Angels and Arch-angels, and the
greatest Seraphims are but of yesterday, in comparison of this
Plant. He is renowned for his Antiquity, for he is, “The Ancient of
days, and the Everlasting Father,” Isaiah, 9th chapter.


  _N.B.--Here he was desired to conclude his Discourse, in respect
  the Work in the Church was over, and that he might give way to
  another Minister that was to preach the Evening Sermon._


SERMON II.

EZEKIEL, xxxiv. 29.

_And I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown._

I had occasion, upon a solemnity of this nature, not long ago, to
enter upon these words, but had not time to go far into the import
of them. After I had traced the connection of the words a little, I
took them up in the few following particulars.

1. We have here a great blessing promised unto the church; and that
is none other than Christ, under the notion of a Prince, and _A
Plant of Renown_.

2. We have the Party by whom this promise is made, in the pronoun
_I_,--I JEHOVAH, the Eternal GOD, _I will raise up for them a Plant
of Renown_.

3. We have the way how this _Plant of Renown_ is raised; _And I
will raise him up_. I that am the great Husbandman of the vineyard,
_I will raise up for them_, &c. Then,

4. I noticed the persons to whom the promise is made, _I will raise
up for them_; that is, for his Church, for his people that are
brought into a very low condition; as you will see by reading the
preceding part of the chapter. The flock of Christ were scattered
by the shepherds of Israel; they were torn, they were devoured, and
under manifold trials; Well, what will the Lord do for his flock
in that condition? He says, _I will raise up for them a Plant of
Renown, and they shall hunger no more_.

The observation is much the same with the words themselves, namely,
“that our Lord Jesus Christ is a Plant of Renown of his Father’s
upbringing:” _I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown_. In
prosecution of this doctrine, I proposed to observe the order and
method following.

_First_, To premise a few things concerning this blessed Plant.

_Secondly_, To shew that indeed he is a _Plant of Renown_. And then,

_Thirdly_, To speak a little concerning the raising up of this
Plant.

_Fourthly_, For whom he is raised up.

_Fifthly_, For what good, or for what benefit and advantage he is
raised up. And,

_Lastly_, To apply the whole.

As to the first, I spoke to it, and premised a few things
concerning this blessed Plant; therefore I shall not stay to resume
what was said on that Head. I likewise entered upon the second, and
shewed that Christ is _A Plant of Renown_ in several respects: I
mentioned eleven or twelve particulars wherein Christ is renowned,
but I shall not resume these neither: I shall only tell you a few
things wherein this blessed Plant is renowned.

1. In the first place, this blessed Plant, he is renowned for his
antiquity. There are many other plants in God’s garden, as angels,
seraphims, cherubims, saints militant and triumphant, they are all
but upstarts in comparison of him; for he was set up before ever
the earth was. You will see that one name of this Plant of Renown
is, _The Everlasting Father_, or, “The Father of Eternity,” as it
may be rendered.

2. As he is renowned for his antiquity, so for his Beauty: he is
the most beautiful Plant in all the garden of God; “I am the Rose
of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys.--He is the apple-tree among
the trees of the wood.” He is renowned I say, for his beauty and
his glory; for the glory of a God is in him. Is there any glory
in his eternal Father? Why, that glory shines in our IMMANUEL, in
the very brightness of it, Heb. i. 3. “He is the brightness of the
Father’s glory, and the express image of his person.” Now, sirs,
if ever your eyes were opened by the Spirit of God, to take up the
glory of this Plant, his glory has just dazzled your very eyes! You
that never saw any glory in him, you never saw him to this very
day: Pray that the light of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus
Christ, may yet shine into your hearts. It would make a heartsome
Sacrament, if this Plant were displayed in his glory among us.
Sirs, have you come to see him in his glory? O give God no rest
till he make a discovery of himself to your souls. Then,

3. He is renowned for his verdure, for his perpetual greenness.
Other plants are fading; you and I are fading plants; “All flesh
is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of
the field:” He is a Tree ever green, he never fades, summer nor
winter, and shall be ever a green Plant to the Saints as it were
to eternity! When millions of ages, yea, myriads of ages are past
in heaven, he will be as fresh and green to the believer, as when
he first saw him, or the first moment the saint entered glory:
therefore it is, that the songs of the redeemed in glory are always
new; and throughout eternity, will be new, because they will
constantly see matter of a new song; and the more they see, they
will wonder the more at him throughout eternity! Again,

4. This Plant is renowned not only for his verdure, but for his
virtue. We read, Rev. xxii. “That the leaves of the Tree of Life
were for the healing of the nations.” That Tree of Life is the very
same with this Plant of Renown; the leaves of this Plant are for
the healing of the nations; and we that are ministers are come this
day to scatter the leaves of this Tree of Life, of this _Plant of
Renown_; try if you can get a leaf of it applied and set home upon
your souls. Depend upon it, there is virtue in every word of his.
Sirs, mingle faith with a word, and you will find that it will
have the same efficacy with you as it had with the poor woman with
the bloody issue, that was healed with a touch of the hem of his
garment, who had spent all her living on doctors. O see if you can
find him! I assure you he is here; he is behind the door of every
man’s heart: “Behold I stand (says he,) at the door and knock! If
any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him,
and sup with him, and he with me.” And O let him in! there is
virtue in him for curing you all, though there were ten thousand
millions of you more than there are; there is virtue in him for
healing every one of you. But then,

5. This blessed Plant is not only renowned for his virtue, but
likewise for his fertility. He is not a barren Plant; he would
not be renowned if he were barren: He brings forth all manner of
fruit every month; yea, I may add, every day, every moment. You
read in Rev. xxii. of the Tree of Life that brings forth twelve
manner of fruits every month; that is to say, he brings forth all
fruit that is necessary for a poor soul: whatever thy soul stands
in need of, is to be found in him; see then and gather, see if you
can gather some of it. There is the fruit of his incarnation; there
is the fruit of his death; there is the fruit of his resurrection;
there is the fruit of his ascension; there is the fruit of his
intercession, and sitting at the right hand of God; there is the
fruit of his prophetic office; there is the fruit of his priestly
office; there is the fruit of his kingly office; there is the fruit
of his appearing within the vail; there is the fruit of what he did
without the vail, and without the camp. O what fruit is here! Here
is wisdom for fools; here is justification for the condemned soul;
here is sanctification for the polluted soul, and clothing for the
naked; riches for the poor, bread for the hungry, drink for the
thirsty. All manner of fruit is here, and we are trying, sirs, to
shake the Tree of Life among you; and blessed be God, they may be
gathered: O sirs! they are dropping among you; O gather, gather,
for salvation is in every word that drops from him; for his words
are the words of eternal life. But, in the

6. Place, this blessed Plant is renowned for his scent and pleasant
savour. O sirs! there is such a blessed savour in this Plant of
Renown, as has cast a perfume through all the Paradise above! He
has cast a perfume through the church militant, which in Isaiah
v. is called God’s vineyard. O sirs! do you find any thing of the
scent of this Plant? I can tell you, if ever you have been made
to know him, it will be so: “because of the savour of thy good
ointment, thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the
Virgins love thee.” The believer he finds a scent about him, he
draws a savour from him. What is the design of us ministers, but
to cast abroad his scent, and it is by this we win souls; and they
that cast out and drop the Plant of Renown out of their sermons,
no wonder their sermons stink, and they shall stink to eternity,
that throw Christ out of their sermons. The great business of
ministers is to cast forth the scent of Christ to the people. I
shall read you a word to this purpose, in 2 Cor. ii. 14--16. “Now,
thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ.”
The apostle triumphs in him, and all other honest ministers will
triumph in him too; and all Christians that know him, triumph in
him. “And maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in
every place. For we are unto God a sweet savour in Christ, in them
that are saved, and in them that perish. To the one we are the
savour of death unto death; and to the other, the savour of life
unto life; and who is sufficient for these things?” Who is able to
tell the sweet savour that is in him? Again,

7. This blessed plant in my text, is not only renowned for his
savour, but likewise for his shadow. Song, i. 3. “I sat down under
his shadow with great delight;” the shadow of the Plant of Renown.
You are all sitting there or standing, but are you sitting under
the Plant of Renown? Jonah’s gourd did him service against the
scorching heat of the sun, that was like to take away his life;
but alas! that soon failed him, for God sent a worm and smote it
that it withered; and the worm of death will soon smite and wither
you and me: O get in under the shadow of this Plant of Renown, and
ye are secured against death and vindictive wrath for ever. Get
in under his shadow; the shadow of his intercession,--the shadow
of his power,--the shadow of his providence,--the shadow of his
faithfulness: O sit under his shadow, and you will find shelter
there against all deadly; whatever blasts come, you will find
safety there. Would you be shadowed from the king of terrors? Death
is a terror to many, O if you be shadowed against the awful terrors
of death and God’s vengeance, get in under this shadow, and you are
safe.

8. This Plant is renowned for his stature. He is a high Plant, he
is a tall Plant: you see the heavens above you, but they are but
creeping things in comparison of him; for this glorious Plant is,
_The high and lofty One that inhabits eternity_. You can never see
his height; your eye will look high, and your thought will reach
higher, but neither your eye nor thought will reach unto him; he
is taller than all the cedars in the Lebanon of God: “Eye hath not
seen, nor hath ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of
man,” to think of the height and glory of this Plant of Renown! And,

_Lastly_, This Plant is renowned not only for his stature, but for
his extent also: he is a broad Plant, he was planted in the first
promise in Paradise; he spread through the old testament church;
he came the length of filling the land of Judea; and, at length,
this Plant has spread itself among us: And O that I could open the
leaves of this Plant to take you in; he is a broad Plant, he will
serve you all. We read of the Tree of Life being on every side
of the river: there is a great river betwixt us and heaven, and
that is death; and we are all running into this river of death. As
one well observes on the place, this Tree is in the middle of the
river; he is on this side of time, and he is on that side of time.
Now, this Plant is on both sides of the river; though you were
going to the wastes of America, you will find him there as well as
here, if you have but the art of improving him. And this Plant will
spread himself through all kingdoms, “The earth shall be filled
with the knowledge of the Lord, just as the waters cover the sea.”
He will not only fill the earth, but the whole heavens throughout
eternity! O but he is a broad Plant, that will extend himself both
to heaven and earth! And this shall serve for the second thing
proposed, namely, To show that this Plant is indeed a most Renowned
Plant.

The third thing I proposed in the prosecution of this doctrine,
was, concerning the raising or upbringing of this Plant. You see it
is no other than the Great GOD, that raised up this Plant. I find
the Great JEHOVAH glorying in his skill and wisdom in the raising
up of this Plant for the use of the church. In Psalm lxxxix. 19.
says the Lord, “I have laid help upon one that is mighty; I have
exalted one chosen out of the people; I have raised up David my
servant; with my holy oil have I anointed him.” Here he glories in
it that he had raised up this glorious Plant of Renown.

I will tell you a few things with reference to the raising up of
this blessed Plant.

1. He was raised up in the counsel of God’s peace from eternity.
The Trinity sat in council anent the upbringing of him; “The
counsel of peace was between them both,” Zech. vi. 13. The Father
and the Son agreed upon it, that in the fulness of time the Son
should come into the world.

2. He was raised up in the first promise to Adam and Eve. Till this
Plant was discovered to them, they were like to run distracted: And
indeed, sirs, if Christless sinners saw where they were, and the
wrath of God that is hanging over their heads, they would be ready
to run distracted, till a revelation of Christ was made to them.
All the promises, all the prophecies, all the types, and all the
doctrines of the old testament, they were the gradual springings of
this Plant: but it was under ground until,

3. His actual manifestation in the flesh, when, in the fulness of
time he appeared: “In the fulness of time, God sent forth his Son,
made of a woman, &c.”

4. This Plant was raised up even in his death and resurrection,
by which he was declared to be the Son of God with power, by the
spirit of holiness. And,

_Lastly_, This Plant of Renown will be raised up in the songs of
the redeemed through endless eternity. Thus you see, Christ is a
Plant of Renown, and what way he is raised up.

The next thing I proposed was, for whom is it that this Plant is
raised up? O! may some poor thing say, Was he ever raised up for
me? I tell you, sirs, he was never raised up for the fallen angels;
“For he took not on him the nature of angels, but he took on him
the seed of Abraham.” Our nature was highly honoured at first,
but it soon sunk below the beast that perisheth; but the second
Adam took our nature upon him, and raised it to a higher dignity
than the very angels; for to which of the angels did this honour
appertain, to be united to the eternal Son of God? So that, I say,
this Plant of Renown is raised up for mankind-sinners, not for
angel-kind sinners; and every mankind-sinner that hears tell of
him, they should lay claim to him, as in Isaiah, ix. 6, “To us a
Son is given, to us this Child is born; and the government shall
be upon his shoulder: And his name shall be called Wonderful,
Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of
Peace.” To us he is given, unto us he is born.

I thought to have gone through what I designed on this subject, but
time will not allow. The Lord bless his word.


A DYING CHRISTIAN’S PRAYER.

“Receive my spirit,” was the prayer of Stephen to Jesus Christ, to
receive his departing soul; and, brethren, I think you will feel in
a dying hour, that your departing soul _needs_ a Divine Saviour.
You have one in Jesus Christ. You may call upon him then, even as
now. _His_ ear will not be heavy, though _yours_ may, when death is
sealing up your faculties. _His_ eye will not have lost its power
of gazing affectionately on you, when _yours_ is becoming dim and
closed. His hand will not be shortened, in the hour when yours will
have become tremulous and feeble. But lift up the hand, the heart,
the eye, the soul, in prayer to him then, and you will find him a
very near and present help in that your time of trouble.

Brethren, a Christian should die _praying_. Other men die in
different ways, according to their character and temper. Julius
Cesar died adjusting his robes, that he might fall gracefully.
Voltaire, with mingled imprecations and supplications; Paine, with
shrieks of agonizing remorse. Multitudes die with sullenness, some
with blasphemies faltering on their tongue. But, brethren, the
humble Christian would die praying. Well says the poet:

      “Prayer is the Christian’s vital breath,
        The Christian’s native air;
      His watch-word at the gates of death,
        He enters heaven with prayer!”

But, observe for what Stephen prayed. “Lord Jesus receive my
spirit!” This is the prayer of faith, commending the immortal
spirit to the covenant care of Jesus. The spirit does not die
with the body. None but God, who gave, can take away the soul’s
existence, and he has declared that he never will. Would that
bad men would think on that! You cannot get rid of your soul’s
existence: you cannot cease to be: you may wish it; though the
wish is monstrous and unnatural. But there is no annihilation for
any soul of man. Oh, come to our Saviour! give him your guilty
soul, to be justified through his atonement, washed in his blood,
regenerated by his Spirit. Make to him _now_ that surrender of your
soul, for which he calls. Renew this happy self-dedication every
day, very especially every Sabbath, and most solemnly, from time to
time at the Lord’s Supper. And then, when you come to die, it will
only be, to do once more, what you have so often done in former
days,--again to commend your soul very humbly, believingly, and
affectionately, under the faithful care of Jesus Christ.


THE HOUSE OF GOD.

The church was pleasantly situated on a rising bank, at the foot
of a considerable hill. It was surrounded by trees, and had a
rural retired appearance. In every direction the roads that led to
this house of God, possessed distinct but interesting features.
One of them ascended between several rural cottages from the
sea-shore, which adjoined the lower part of the village-street.
Another winded round the curved sides of the adjacent hill, and
was adorned, both above and below, with numerous sheep feeding
on the herbage of the down. A third road led to the church by a
gently rising approach, between high banks, covered with young
trees, bushes, ivy, hedge-plants, and wild flowers.--From a point
of land, which commanded a view of all these several avenues, I
used sometimes, for a while, to watch my congregation gradually
assembling together at the hour of Sabbath worship. They were in
some directions visible for a considerable distance. Gratifying
associations of thought would form in my mind, as I contemplated
their approach and successive arrival within the precincts of the
house of prayer.--One day as I was thus occupied, during a short
interval previous to the hour of divine service, I reflected on
the joy, which David experienced at the time he exclaimed, “I was
glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord.
Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is
built as a city that is compact together; whither the tribes go
up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give
thanks unto the name of the Lord.” I was led to reflect upon the
various blessings, connected with the establishment of public
worship. “How many immortal souls are now gathering together to
perform the all-important work of prayer and praise--to hear the
word of God--to feed upon the bread of life! They are leaving
their respective dwellings, and will soon be united together in
the house of prayer.” How beautifully does this represent the
effect produced by the voice of the “Good Shepherd,” calling his
sheep from every part of the wilderness into his fold! As those
fields, hills, and lanes, are now covered with men, women, and
children, in various directions, drawing nearer to each other,
and to the object of their journey’s end; even so, “many shall
come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and
from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God.” Who
can rightly appreciate the value of such hours as these?--hours
spent in learning the way of holy pleasantness, and the paths of
heavenly peace--hours devoted to the service of God, and of souls;
in warning the sinner to flee from wrath to come; in teaching
the ignorant how to live and die; in preaching the gospel to the
poor; in healing the broken-hearted; in declaring “deliverance to
the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind.” “Blessed is
the people that know the joyful sound; they shall walk, O Lord,
in the light of thy countenance. In thy name shall they rejoice
all the day, and in thy righteousness shall they be exalted.”
This train of reflection, at intervals, occurred powerfully to my
feelings, as I viewed that very congregation assembled together
in the house of God, whose steps, in their approach to it, I had
watched with prayerful emotions.--“Here the rich and poor met
together,” in mutual acknowledgement that “the Lord is the maker
of them all,” and that all are alike dependent creatures, looking
up to one common Father to supply their wants, both temporal and
spiritual.--Again, likewise, shall they meet together in the grave,
that undistinguishing receptacle of the opulent and the needy.--And
once more, at the judgment-seat of Christ, shall the rich and poor
meet together, that “every one may receive the things done in
his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or
bad.” How closely connected in the history of man, art these three
periods of a general meeting together. The house of prayer--the
house appointed for all living--and the house not made with hands
eternal in the heavens.--May we never separate these ideas from
each other, but retain them in a sacred and profitable union! So
shall our worshipping assemblies on earth be representative of the
general assembly and church of the first-born, which are written in
heaven.


FINIS.




  A CHOICE DROP OF HONEY

  FROM

  THE ROCK CHRIST;

  OR,

  A SHORT WORD OF ADVICE

  TO

  SAINTS AND SINNERS.

  BY THOMAS WILCOCKS.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




CHRISTIAN READER,


I find, in this latter day, the love of the Lord shining in
some measure with its pleasant beams into my heart, warming my
affections, inflaming my soul not only to give a spiritual echo in
soul duty to so great a lover as my Saviour is, whose transcendent
love passeth knowledge, Eph. iii. 19. but also the loving and
wishing well to all Sion’s heaven-born children; for I find, in
this day, many poor souls tossed to and fro, ready to be carried
away with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men and cunning
craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive, Eph. iv. 14: and
that there are many foundations to build upon that are false, upon
which much labour is spent in vain; that men are not speaking the
truth in love; neither are they growing up unto him in all things,
which is the head Christ, Eph. iv. 15. There cannot be a growing
in Christ, without a union with him. Thou wilt find, therefore,
gentle reader, this ensuing little treatise, if the Lord be pleased
to bless the reading of it unto thee, as a still voice behind thee
saying, “This is the way, walk in it, that thou turn not to the
right hand or the left.”--The way into that pleasant path of soul
justification before God is in and through the righteousness of
Jesus Christ, for all our self-righteousness is as filthy rags:
surely shall one say, “In the Lord shall all the seed of Israel be
justified, and shall glory,” Isai. xlv. 25. It is only the dying of
that Just One, for us unjust ones, that must bring us to God. He
that knew no sin was made sin for us; that we who were nothing but
sin, might be made the righteousness of God in him, 2 Cor. v. 21.

Christian Reader, let all that is of old Adam in thee fall down
at the foot of Christ. He only must have the pre-eminence;--all
the vessels of this new spiritual covenant temple, from the cups
to the flagons, must be all hung upon Christ; he is to build the
temple of the Lord, and is to bear the glory; he, by his Father’s
appointment, is the foundation-stone, the corner-stone, and the
top-stone; he is the Father’s fulness of grace and glory: whatever
thy wants be, thou mayest come to him; there is balsam enough in
him fit for a cure.

Reader, the good Lord help thee to experience the ensuing word of
advice, that it may be made by God unto thee like honey, sweet
to thy soul, and health to thy bones, and thy soul shall rejoice
within thee. Thy brother in the faith and fellowship of the gospel,

      THOMAS WILCOCKS.


A CHOICE DROP OF HONEY

FROM THE

ROCK CHRIST.

A word of advice to my own heart and thine:--Thou art a professor,
and partakest of all ordinances: Thou dost well, they are glorious
privileges. But if thou hast not the blood of Christ at the root of
thy profession, it will wither, and prove but painted pageantry to
go to hell in.

If thou retain guilt and self-righteousness under it, those vipers
will eat out all the vitals of it at length.--Try and examine with
the greatest strictness every day, what foundation thy profession
and thy hope of glory is built upon, whether it was laid by the
hand of Christ; if not, it will never be able to endure the storm
that will come against it. Satan will throw it all down, and great
will be the fall thereof, Matt. vii. 27.

Glorious professor! thou shalt be winnowed, every vein of thy
profession shall be tried to purpose! It is terrible to have it all
come tumbling down, and to find nothing but it to rest upon.

Soaring professor! see to thy waxen wings betimes, which will melt
with the heat of temptations. What a misery it is, to trade much,
and break at length, and have no stock, no foundation laid for
eternity in thy soul!

Gilded professor! look if there be not a worm at the root, that
will spoil all thy fine gourd, and make it die about thee in a
day of scorching. Look over thy soul daily, and ask, “Where is
the blood of Christ to be seen upon my soul? What righteousness
is it that I stand upon to be saved? Have I got off my
self-righteousness?”--Many eminent professors have come at length
to cry out in the sight of the ruin of all their duties, Undone,
undone, to all eternity!

Consider, the greatest sins may be hid under the greatest duties,
and the greatest terrors. See the wound that sin hath made in thy
soul be perfectly cured by the blood of Christ; not skinned over
with duties, humblings, enlargements, &c. Apply what thou wilt
besides the blood of Christ, it will poison the sore. Thou wilt
find that sin was never mortified truly; that thou hast not seen
Christ bleeding for thee upon the cross; nothing can kill it, but
the beholding of Christ’s righteousness.

Nature can afford no balsam fit for soul cure. Healing from duty
and not from Christ, is the most desperate disease. Poor ragged
nature, with all its highest improvements, can never spin a garment
fine enough, without spot, to cover the soul’s nakedness. Nothing
can fit the soul for that use, but Christ’s perfect righteousness.

Whatsoever is of nature’s spinning must be all unravelled, before
the righteousness of Christ can be put on; whatsoever is nature’s
putting on, Satan will come and plunder it every rag away, and
leave the soul naked and open to the wrath of God. All that nature
can do will never make up the least drachm of grace, that can
mortify sin, or look Christ in the face even for one day.

Thou art a professor, goest on hearing, praying, and receiving,
yet miserable thou mayest be. Look about thee; did thou ever yet
see Christ to this day in distinction from all other excellencies
and righteousness in the world, and all of them falling before the
majesty of his love and grace? Is. ii. 17.

If thou hast seen Christ truly, thou hast seen pure grace, pure
righteousness in him, every way infinite, far exceeding all sin
and misery. If thou hast seen Christ, thou canst trample upon
all the righteousness of men and angels, so as to bring thee
into acceptance with God. If thou hast seen Christ, thou wouldst
not do a duty without him for ten thousand worlds, 1 Cor. ii. 2.
If ever thou sawest Christ, thou sawest him a Rock, higher than
self-righteousness, Satan, and sin, Ps. lxi. 2; and this Rock doth
follow thee, 1 Cor. x. 4; and there will be continual dropping of
honey and grace out of that Rock to satisfy thee, Ps. lxxxi. 16.
Examine if ever thou hast beheld Christ as the only-begotten of
the Father, full of grace and truth, John, i. 14, 16, 17. Be sure
thou art come to Christ, that thou standest on the Rock of Ages,
hast answered to his call to thy soul, hast closed with him for
justification.

Men talk bravely of believing, but whilst whole and sound few know
it. Christ is the mystery of the Scripture: Grace the mystery of
Christ. Believing is the most wonderful thing in the world. Put any
thing of thine own to it, and thou spoilest it; Christ will not so
much as look at it for believing. When thou believest and comest
to Christ, thou must leave behind thee thine own righteousness,
and bring nothing but thy sin. (O that is hard!) Leave behind thy
holiness, sanctification, duties, humblings, &c., and bring nothing
but thy wants and miseries, else Christ is not fit for thee, nor
thou for Christ. Christ will be a whole Redeemer and Mediator, and
thou must be an undone sinner, or Christ and thou will never agree.
It is the hardest thing to take Christ alone for righteousness:
that is, to acknowledge him Christ. Join any thing to him of thine
own, and thou dost un-Christ him.

Whatever comes in when thou goest to God for acceptance besides
Christ, call it anti-Christ bid it begone; make only Christ’s
righteousness triumphant; all besides that is Babylon, which must
fall if Christ stand; and thou shalt rejoice in the day of the
fall thereof, Is. xiv. 10, 11, 12.----Christ alone did tread the
wine-press, and there was none with him, Is. lxiii. 3. If thou
join any thing to Christ, Christ will trample upon it in fury
and anger, and stain his raiment with the blood thereof.----Thou
thinkest it easy to believe; was ever thy faith tried with an hour
of temptation, or with a thorough sight of sin? Was it ever put to
wrestle with Satan, and the wrath of God lying upon the conscience?
When thou wast in the mouth of hell and the grave, then God shewed
thee Christ, a ransom, a righteousness, &c. Then if thou couldst
say, Oh, I see grace enough in Christ, thou mayest say that which
is the biggest word in the world, Thou believest. Untried faith is
uncertain faith.

To believing, there must go a clear conviction of sin, and the
merits of the blood of Christ, and of Christ’s willingness to save
upon this consideration merely, that thou art a sinner; things all
harder than to make a world. All the powers in nature cannot get up
so high in a storm of sin and guilt, as really to believe there is
any grace, any willingness, in Christ to save. When Satan charged
sin upon the conscience, then for the soul to bring it to Christ,
that is gospel-like. That is to make him Christ, he serves for that
use. To accept Christ’s righteousness alone, his blood alone, for
salvation, that is the sum of the gospel. When the soul, in all
duties and distresses, can say, Nothing but Christ, Christ alone
for righteousness, justification, sanctification, redemption, 1
Cor. i. 30; not humblings, nor duties, nor graces, &c., that soul
hath got above the reach of the billows.

All temptations, Satan’s advantages, our complainings, are laid in
self-righteousness, and self-excellency: God pursueth these, by
setting Satan upon thee, as Laban did Jacob for his images; these
must be torn from thee, he is unwilling as thou wilt; these hinder
Christ from coming in; and till Christ come in, guilt will not come
out; and where guilt is, there is hardness of heart; and therefore
much guilt argues little if any thing of Christ.

When guilt is raised up, take heed of getting it allayed any
way but by Christ’s blood, that will tend to hardening. Make
Christ thy peace, Eph. i. 14, not thy duties, thy tears, &c.
Thou mayest offend Christ by duties as well as sins. Look at
Christ, and do as much as thou wilt. Rest with all thy weight upon
Christ’s righteousness; take heed of having one foot on thine own
righteousness and another on Christ’s. Till he come and sit on
high, upon a throne of grace in the conscience, there is nothing
but guilt, terror, secret suspicions, the soul hanging betwixt hope
and fear, which is an un-gospel-like state.

He that fears to see sin’s utmost vileness, the utmost hell of
his own heart, suspects the merits of Christ. Be thou never
such a great sinner, 1 John, ii. 1; try Christ, to make him thy
advocate, and thou shalt find him Jesus Christ the righteous.
In all doubtings, fears, storms of conscience, look at Christ
continually. Do not argue it with Satan, he desires no better.
Bid him go to Christ, and he will answer him. It is his office to
be our advocate, 1 John, ii. 1. His office is to answer the law
as our surety, Heb. vii. 22; his office to answer justice, as our
Mediator, Gal. iii. 20; 1 Tim. ii. 5. And he is sworn to that
office, Heb. vii. 20, 21. Put Christ upon it. If thou wilt do any
thing thyself to satisfaction for sin, thou renouncest Christ the
righteous, who was made sin for thee, 2 Cor. v. 21.

Satan may alledge, and corrupt scripture, but he cannot answer
scripture. It is Christ’s word of mighty authority. Christ foiled
Satan with it, Matt. iv. 10. In all the scripture there is not an
ill word against a poor sinner stripped of self-righteousness; nay,
it plainly points out this man to be the subject of the grace of
the gospel, and none else. Believe but in Christ’s willingness,
and that will make thee willing. If thou findest thou canst not
believe, put him upon it; he works to will and to believe, put him
upon it; he works to will and to do of his own pleasure, Phil. ii.
13. Mourn for thy unbelief, which is a setting up of guilt in the
conscience above Christ, an undervaluing of the merits of Christ,
accounting his blood an unholy, a common, and unsatisfying thing.

Thou complainest much of thyself.--Doth thy sin make thee look more
at Christ, less at thyself! That is right, else complaining is but
hypocrisy. To be looking at duties, graces, enlargements, when thou
shouldst be looking at Christ, that is pitiful. Looking at them
will make you humble. By grace ye are saved, Eph. ii. 5, 8. In all
thy temptations be not discouraged, James, i. 2. Those surges may
be not to drown thee, but to cast thee on the Rock Christ.

Thou mayest be brought low, even to the brink of hell, yet there
thou mayest cry, there thou mayest look towards the holy temple,
Jonah, ii. 14. Into that temple none might enter but purified ones,
and with an offering too, Acts, xxi. 26. But now Christ is our
temple, sacrifice, altar, and high-priest to whom none must come
but sinners, and that without any offering but his own blood once
offered. Heb. vii. 27.

Remember all the patterns of grace that are in heaven. Thou
thinkest, “Oh what a monument of grace shall I be!” There are many
thousands as rich monuments as thou canst be. The greatest sinner
did never surpass the grace of Christ. Do not despair: hope still.
When the clouds are blackest, even then look towards Christ, the
standing pillar of the Father’s love and grace, set up in heaven,
for all sinners to gaze upon continually. Whatsoever Satan or
conscience say, do not conclude against thyself. Christ shall have
the last word; he is judge of quick and dead, and must pronounce
the fatal sentence. His blood speaks reconciliation, Col. i. 20;
cleansing, 1 John, i. 7; purchase, Acts xx. 28; redemption, 1 Pet.
i. 9; purging, Heb. v. 13, 14; remission, verse 22; liberty, Heb.
x. 19; justification, Rom. v. 9; nearness to God, Eph. ii. 13. Not
a drop of this blood shall be lost. Stand and hearken what God will
say, for he will speak peace to his people, that they return no
more to folly, Psal. lxxxv. 8. He speaks grace, mercy, and peace, 2
Tim. i. 2. That is the language of the Father and of Christ. Wait
for Christ’s appearing, as the morning star, Rev. xxii. 19. He
shall come as certain as the morning, as refreshing as the rain,
Hos. vi. 3.

The sun may as well be hindered from rising, as Christ the sun
of righteousness, Mal. iv. 2. Look not a moment off Christ. Look
not upon sin, but look upon Christ first: when thou mournest for
sin, if thou dost not see Christ, then away with it, Zech. ii. 20.
In every duty look at Christ; before duty, to pardon; in duty,
to assist; after duty, to accept. Without this it is but carnal
careless duty. Do not legalise the gospel, as if part did remain
to thee to do and suffer, and Christ were but an half mediator; and
thou must bear part of thine own sin, and make part satisfaction.
Let sin break thy heart, but not thy hope in the gospel.

Look more at justification than sanctification. In the highest
commands consider Christ, not as an exactor, to inquire, but a
debtor and undertaker, to work. If thou hast looked at workings,
duties, qualifications, &c., more than at the merits of Christ, it
will cost thee dear; no wonder thou goest complaining; graces may
be evidences, the merits of Christ alone, without them, must be the
foundation of thy hope to rest upon. Christ only can be the hope of
glory, Col. i. 27.

When we come to God, we must bring nothing but Christ with us. Any
ingredients, or any previous qualifications of our own, will poison
and corrupt faith. He that builds upon duties, graces, &c., knows
not the merits of Christ; this makes believing so hard, so far from
nature. If thou believest, thou must every day renounce as dung and
dross, (Phil. iii. 7, 9,) thy privileges, thy qualifications, thy
baptism, thy sanctification, thy duties, thy graces, thy tears, thy
meltings, thy humblings, and nothing but Christ must be held up.
Every day thy workings, thy self-sufficiency must be destroyed.
Thou must take all out of God’s hand. Christ is the gift of God,
John, iv. 10. Faith is the gift of God, Eph. ii. 1. Pardon a free
gift, Rom. v. 16. Ah, how nature storms, frets, rages at this, that
all is of gift, and it can purchase nothing with its actings, and
tears, and duties; that all workings are excluded, and of no value
in heaven!

If nature had been to contrive the way of salvation, it would
rather have put it into the hands of saints or angels to sell
it, than the hands of Christ, who gives freely, whom therefore
it suspects; nature would have set up a way to purchase by
doing; therefore it abominates the merits of Christ, as the most
destructive thing to it. Nature would do any thing to be saved,
rather than go to Christ, or close with Christ, and owe all to him.
Christ will have nothing; but the soul will force somewhat of his
own upon Christ. Herein is that great controversy.--Consider--didst
thou ever yet see the merits of Christ, and the infinite
satisfaction made by his death? Didst thou see this when the burden
of sin and the wrath of God lay heavy on thy conscience? That is
grace. The greatness of Christ’s merit is not known but to a poor
soul in deep distress! Slight convictions will but have slight low
prizings of Christ’s blood and merits.

Despairing sinner! Thou lookest on thy right hand, and on thy left,
saying, “Who will shew us any good?” Thou art looking over all thy
duties and professions to patch a righteousness to save thee. Look
at Christ now; look to him and be saved all the ends of the earth,
Is. xlv. 22. There is none else. He is a Saviour, and there is none
besides him, xliii. 11. Look any where else, and thou art undone.
God will look at nothing but Christ, and thou must look at nothing
else. Christ is lifted up on high, as the brazen serpent in the
wilderness, that sinners at the end of the earth, at the greatest
distance, may see him, and look towards him, John, iii. 14, 15. The
least sight of him will be saving, the least touch healing to thee;
and God intends thou shouldst look on him, for he hath set him upon
a high throne of glory, in the open view of all poor sinners. Thou
hast infinite reason to look on him: no reason at all to look off
him; for he is meek and lowly of heart, Matt. xi. 29. He will do
that himself which he requires of his creatures; viz. bear with
infirmities, Rom. xv. 1. Not pleasing himself, nor standing upon
points of law, ver. 2; he will restore with the spirit of meekness,
Gal. vi.; and bear thy burdens, ver. 2. He will forgive not only
till seven times, but seventy times seven, Matt. xviii. 21, 22. I
put the faith of the apostles to it to believe this, Luke, xvii. 4,
5. Because we are hard to forgive, we think Christ is hard.

We see sin great, we think Christ doth so, and measure infinite
love with our line, infinite merits with our sins, which is the
great pride and blasphemy, Ps. ciii. 11, 12; Is. x. 15. Hear what
he saith: I have found a ransom, Job xxxiii. 24; in him I am well
pleased, Matt. iii. 18. God will have nothing else; nothing else
will do thee good, or satisfy conscience, but Christ who satisfied
the Father. God doth all upon the account of Christ. Thy deserts
are hell, wrath, rejection. Christ’s deserts are life, pardon,
and acceptance. He will not only shew thee one, but he will give
thee the other. It is Christ’s own glory and happiness to pardon.
Consider, whilst Christ was upon the earth, he was more among
publicans and sinners, than among scribes and pharisees, his
professed adversaries, for they were righteous ones: it is not
as thou imaginest, that his state in glory makes him neglected,
scornful to poor sinners; No. He hath the same heart now in heaven;
he is good, and changeth not; he is the Lamb of God that taketh
away the sins of the world, John, i. 20. He went through all thy
temptations, dejections, sorrows, desertions, rejections, Matt.
iv. 3 to 12 and 26; Mark, xv. 24; Luke, xxii. 44; Matt. xxiv. 38.
And he hath drawn the bitterness of the cup, and left thee the
sweet: the condemnation is out; Christ drank up all the Father’s
wrath at one draught, and nothing but salvation is left for
thee. Thou sayest thou canst not believe, thou canst not repent.
Fitter for Christ if thou hast nothing but sin and misery. Go to
Christ with all thy impenitence and unbelief, to get faith and
repentance from him--that is glorious: Say unto him, Lord, I have
brought no righteousness of grace to be accepted in or justified
by; I am come for thine. We would be bringing to Christ, which
must not be; grace will not stand with works, Tit. iii. 5; Rom.
xi. 6. Self-righteousness and self-sufficiency are the darlings
of nature, which she preserves as her life; that makes Christ
obnoxious to nature; nature cannot desire him; he is just directly
opposite to all nature’s glorious interests. Let nature make a
gospel, and it would make it contrary to Christ. It would be to
the just, the innocent, the holy, &c. Christ made the gospel for
thee, that is, for needy sinners, the ungodly, the unrighteous,
the accursed. Nature cannot endure to think the gospel is only for
sinners; it will rather choose to despair than go to Christ upon
such terrible terms. When nature is opposed to guilt or wrath, it
will go to its own haunts of self-righteousness, self-goodness,
&c. An infinite power must cast down those strong holds. None but
the self-justiciary stands excluded out of the gospel. Christ will
look at the most abominable sinner before him, because to such a
one Christ cannot be made justification--he is no sinner. To say in
compliment, I am a sinner, is easy; but to pray with the publican
indeed, Lord be merciful to me a sinner, is the hardest prayer in
the world. It is easy to profess Christ with the mouth, but to
confess him with the heart, as Peter, (to be the Christ, the Son
of the living God, the alone Mediator,) that is above flesh and
blood. Many call Christ Saviour; few know him to be so. To see
grace and salvation in Christ, is the greatest sight in the world;
none can do that, but at the same time they shall see that glory
and salvation to be theirs. I may be ashamed to think, in the
midst of so much profession, that I have little of the blood of
Christ, which is the main thing of the gospel. A Christless formal
profession will be the blackest sight next to hell. Thou mayest
have many good things, and yet one thing may be wanting that may
make thee go away sorrowful from Christ. Thou hast never sold all
thou hast, never parted with all thine own righteousness, &c. Thou
mayest be high in duty, and yet a perfect enemy and adversary to
Christ, in every prayer, in every ordinance.

Labour after sanctification to thy utmost, but make not a Christ of
it to save thee; if so, it must come down one way or other.

Christ’s infinite satisfaction, not thy sanctification, must be
thy justification before God. When the Lord shall appear terrible
out of his holy place, fire shall consume that as hay and stubble.
This will be found true religion, to rest all upon the everlasting
mountains of God’s love and grace in Christ; to live continually
in the sight of Christ’s infinite righteousness and merits, (they
are sanctifying; without them the heart is carnal,) and in those
sights to see the full vileness of sin, and to see all pardoned;
in those sights to pray, hear, &c., seeing thy polluted self, and
all thy weak performances accepted continually; in those sights to
trample upon all thy self-glories, righteousness, and privileges,
as abominable, and be found continually in the righteousness of
Christ only; rejoicing in the ruins of thy own righteousness,
the spoiling of all thy own excellencies, that Christ’s alone,
as Mediator, may be exalted on his throne: mourning over all thy
duties (how glorious soever) which thou hast not performed in the
sight and sense of Christ’s love. Without the blood of Christ on
the conscience, all this is dead service, Heb. ix. 14.

That opinion of free will, so cried up, will be easily confuted,
as it is by scripture, in the heart that hath had any spiritual
dealings with Jesus Christ, as to the application to its merit,
and subjection to his righteousness. Christ is every way too
magnificent a person for a poor nature to close withal or to
apprehend. Christ is so infinitely holy, nature durst never look
at him; so infinitely good, nature can never believe him to be
such, when it lies under a full sight of sin. Christ is too high
and glorious for nature so much as to touch. There must be a divine
nature first put in the soul, to make it lie on him, he lies so
infinitely beyond the sight or reach of nature.

That Christ, which natural free will can apprehend, is but a
natural Christ of a man’s own making, not the Father’s Christ, nor
Jesus the Son of the living God, to whom none can come without
the father’s drawing, John, vi. 44. 46. Finally, search the
scriptures daily, as mines of gold, wherein the heart of Christ
is laid. Watch against constitutional sins, see them in their
vileness, and they shall never break out into act. Keep always an
humble, empty, broken frame of heart, sensible of any spiritual
miscarriage, observant of all inward workings, fit for the highest
communications. Keep not guilt in the conscience, but apply the
blood of Christ immediately. God chargeth sin and guilt upon thee,
to make thee look to Christ.

Judge not Christ’s love by providences, but by promises. Bless God
for shaking off false foundations, and for any way whereby he keeps
the soul awakened and looking after Christ. Better sicknesses and
temptations than security and slightness.

A slighting spirit will turn a profane spirit, and will sin and
pray too. Slighting is the bane of profession; if it be not rooted
out of the heart, by constant and serious dealings with, and
beholdings of Christ in duties, it will grow more strong and more
deadly by being under church ordinances. Measure not thy graces by
other attainments, but by Scripture trials. Be serious and exact in
duty, having the weight of it upon the heart; be as much afraid of
taking comfort from duties as from sins. Comfort from any hand but
Christ’s is deadly. Be much in prayer, or you will never keep up
much communion with God. As you are in closet prayer, so you will
be in all other ordinances.

Reckon not duties by high expression, but by low frames, and the
beholdings of Christ. Tremble at duties and gifts. It was a saying
of a great saint, he was more afraid of his duties than his sins;
the one often made him proud, the other always made him humble.
Treasure up manifestations of Christ’s love, they make the heart
low for Christ, too high for sin. Slight not the lowest, meanest
evidences of grace; God may put thee to make use of the lowest as
thou thinkest, even that, 1 John, iii. 14, may be worth a thousand
worlds to thee.

Be true to truth, but not turbulent and scornful. Restore such as
are fallen; help them up again with all the bowels of Christ. Set
the broken disjointed bones with the grace of the gospel. High
professor, despise not weak saints. Thou mayest come to wish to
be in the condition of the meanest of them. Be faithful to others’
infirmities, but sensible of thy own. Visit sick beds and deserted
souls much, they are excellent schools in experience. Abide in your
calling. Be dutiful to all relations as to the Lord. Be content
with little of the world; little will serve. Think every little
of the earth much, because unworthy of the least. Think much of
heaven, not little, because Christ is so rich and free. Think
every one better than thyself, and ever carry self-loathing about
thee, as one fit to be trampled upon by all saints. See the vanity
of the world, and the consumption there is upon all things, and
love nothing but Christ. Mourn to see so little of Christ in the
world, so few needing him: trifles please them better. To a secure
soul Christ is but a table, the scripture but a story. Mourn to
think how many there are under baptism and church order, that are
not under grace, looking much after outward duties, little after
Christ, little versed in grace. Prepare for the cross; welcome it,
bear it triumphantly like Christ’s cross; whether scoffs, mockings,
jeers, contempt, imprisonment, &c. But see it be Christ’s cross,
not thine own.

Sin will hinder from glorying in the cross of Christ. Omitting
little truths against light may breed guilt in the conscience, as
well as committing the greatest sins against light. If thou hast
been taken out of the belly of hell into Christ’s bosom, and made
to sit among princes in the household of God, oh how shouldst thou
live as a pattern of mercy? Redeemed, restored soul, what infinite
sums dost thou not owe to Christ! With what singular frames must
thou walk, and do every duty! On sabbaths, what praising days,
singing hallelujahs, should they be to thee! Church fellowship:
what a heaven, a being with Christ, and angels, and saints in
communion; what a bathing of the soul in eternal love; what a
burial with Christ, and dying to all things beside him! Every time
thou thinkest of Christ, be astonished, and wonder; and when thou
seest sin, look at Christ’s grace which did pardon it; and when
thou art proud, look at Christ’s grace, that shall humble and
strike thee down in the dust.

Remember Christ’s time of love, when thou wast naked, Ezekiel,
xvi. 8, 9, and then he chose thee. Canst thou ever have a proud
thought?--Remember whose arms supported thee from sinking, and
delivered thee from the lowest hell, Ps. lxxxvi. 13: and shout
in the ears of angels and men, Ps. cxlviii. and for ever sing,
“Praise, praise, grace, grace.” Daily repent and pray; and walk in
the spirit of grace as one that hath the anointing of grace upon
thee. Remember thy sins, Christ’s pardoning; thy deserts, Christ’s
merits; thy weakness, Christ’s strength; thy pride, Christ’s
humility; thy many infirmities, Christ’s restorings; thy guilt,
Christ’s new applications of his blood; thy failings, Christ’s
raisings up; thy wants, Christ’s fulness; thy temptations, Christ’s
tenderness; thy vileness, Christ’s righteousness.

Blessed soul! whom Christ shall find not trusting in his own
righteousness, Phil. iii. 9, but having his robes washed and made
white in the blood of the Lamb, Rev. vii. 14. Woeful, miserable
professor, that hath not the gospel within! Rest not in church
trials; thou mayest pass them, and be cast away in Christ’s day of
trial. Thou mayest come to baptism, and never come to Jesus and the
blood of sprinkling, Heb. xii. 24. Whatever working or attainments,
short of Christ s blood, merits, righteousness, (the main object
of the gospel) fall short of the truth, and leave the soul in a
condition of doubtings and questionings; and doubtings, if not
looked into betimes, will turn to a lightness of spirit, one of the
most dangerous of frames.

Trifle not with ordinances. Be much in meditation and prayer.
Wait diligently upon all hearing opportunities. We have need of
doctrine, reproof, exhortations, consolation, as tender herbs
and the grass hath of the rain, the dew, the small rain, and the
showers, Deut. xxxii. 2. Do all thou doest as soul-work unto
Christ, Zech. vi. 5, 6; as immediately dealing with Christ Jesus;
as if he were looking on thee, and thou on him, and get all thy
strength from him.

Observe what holy motions you find in your soul to duties; prize
the least good thought thou hast of Christ, the least good word
thou speakest of him sincerely from thy heart. Rich mercy! Oh!
bless God for it! Observe if every day you have the Day-spring from
on high, with his morning dews of mourning for sin, constantly
visiting thee, Luke, i. 78. Have you the bright Morning-star, with
fresh influences of grace and peace, constantly arising, Rev. xxii.
16, and Christ sweetly greeting the soul in all duties? What duty
makes not more spiritual, will make more carnal; what doth not
quicken and humble, will deaden and harden.

Judas may have the outward privilege of baptism, the supper,
church-fellowship, &c., but John leaned on Christ’s bosom, John,
iii. 23; that is the gospel-ordinance posture, in which we should
pray and hear, and perform all duties. Nothing but lying in that
bosom will dissolve hardness of heart, and make thee to mourn
heartily for sin and cure lightness and indifference of spirit,
that gangrene to profession; that will humble indeed, and make the
soul cordial to Christ, and sin vile to the soul; yea, transform
the ugliest place of hell into the glory of Christ. Never think
thou art right as thou shouldst be, a Christian of any attainment,
until thou come to this, always to see and feel thyself lying in
the bosom of Christ, who is in the bosom of his Father, John, i.
18. Come and pray the Father for views of Christ, and you will
be sure to speed. You can come with no request that pleaseth him
better. He gave him out of his own bosom for that very end, to be
held up before the eyes of sinners, as the everlasting monument of
his unspeakable love.

Looking at the natural sun weakens the eye. The more you look at
Christ, the Sun of righteousness, the stronger and clearer will the
eye of faith be. Look but at Christ, you will love him, and live
upon him. Think on him continually,--keep the eye constantly upon
Christ’s blood, or every blast of temptation will shake you. If you
see sin’s sinfulness, to loath it and mourn, do not stand looking
upon sin, but look upon Christ first, as suffering and satisfying
for it. If you would see your graces, your sanctification, do not
stand gazing upon them, but look at Christ’s righteousness in the
first place,--see the Son, and you see all,--look at your graces in
the last place.

Go to Christ in sight of your sin and misery, not of your grace and
holiness. Have nothing to do with thy graces and sanctification,
they will but veil Christ, till thou hast seen Christ first. He
that looks upon Christ through his graces, is like one that sees
the sun in water, which wavereth, and moves as the water doth.
Look upon Christ only as shining in the firmament of the Father’s
love and grace, you will not see him but in his own glory, which
is unspeakable. Pride and unbelief will put you upon seeing
somewhat in yourself first, but faith will have to do with none
but Christ, who is unexpressibly glorious, and must swallow up thy
sanctification as well as thy sin: for God made him both for us,
and we must take him for both, 1 Cor. i. 30, 2 Cor. v. 21. He that
sets up his sanctification to look at, to comfort him, he sets up
the greatest idol, which will strengthen his doubts and fears. Do
but look off Christ, and presently, like Peter, you sink in doubt.

A Christian never wants comfort but by breaking the order and
method of the gospel, looking on his own, and looking off Christ’s
perfect righteousness, which is, to choose rather to live by
candlelight than by the light of the sun. The honey that you suck
from your own righteousness will turn into perfect gall; and the
light that you take from that to walk in will turn into black night
upon the soul. Satan is tempting thee, by putting thee to plod
about thine own grace, to get comfort from that; then the Father
comes and points thee to Christ’s grace, as rich and glorious,
infinitely pleasing to him; and biddest thee study Christ’s
righteousness; and his biddings are enablings; that is, a blessed
motion, a sweet whispering, checking thy belief--follow the least
hint, close with much prayer, prize it as an invaluable jewel; it
is an earnest of more to come. Again,

If you will pray, and cannot, and are so discouraged, see Christ
praying for you, using his interest with the Father for you. What
can you want? John, xiv. 7, and chap. xvii. If you be troubled,
see Christ your peace, Eph. ii. 14. Leaving you peace when he went
up to heaven, again and again charging you not to be troubled;
no, not in the least sinfully troubled; so as to obstruct the
comfort of thy believing, John, xiv. 1, 27. He is now upon the
throne, having spoiled upon his cross, in the lowest state of his
humiliation, all whatsoever can hurt or annoy thee; he hath borne
all thy sins, sorrows, troubles, and temptations, and is gone to
prepare mansions for thee.

Thou who hast seen Christ all, and thyself absolutely nothing who
makest Christ all thy life, and art dead to all righteousness
besides, thou art a Christian, one highly beloved, and who hath
found favour with God, a favourite of heaven. Do Christ this one
favour for all his love to thee; love all his poor saints and
churches, the meanest, the weakest, notwithstanding any difference
in judgment, they are engraven on his heart, as the names of the
children of Israel on Aaron’s breast-plate; Ex. xxviii. 21. Let
them be so on thine. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; they shall
prosper that love thee, Ps. cxxii. 6.


THE END




  SINS AND SORROWS

  SPREAD

  BEFORE GOD:

  A SERMON,

  BY THE REV. ISAAC WATTS.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




SINS AND SORROWS

SPREAD BEFORE GOD.

JOB xxiii. 3, 4.

  Oh that I knew where I might find him! that I might come even to
  his seat! I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth
  with arguments.


There is such a thing as converse with God in prayer, and it is the
life and pleasure of a pious soul; without it we are no Christians;
and he that practises it most, is the best follower of Christ, for
our Lord spent much time in converse with his heavenly Father. This
is the balm that eases the most raging pains of the mind, when
the wounded conscience comes to the mercy-seat, and finds pardon
and peace there. This is the cordial that revives and exalts our
natures, when the spirit, broken with sorrows and almost fainting
with death, draws near to the almighty Physician, and is healed
and refreshed. The mercy-seat in heaven is our surest and sweetest
refuge in every hour of distress and darkness on earth; this is our
daily support and relief, while we are passing through a world of
temptations and hardships in the way to the promised land. “It is
good for us to draw near to God.” Psal. lxxiii. 28.

And yet so much is human nature sunk down and fallen from God, that
even his own children are ready to indulge a neglect of converse
with him, if their souls are not always upon the watch. But let
it be remembered here, that so much as we abate of this divine
entertainment among the vanities or amusements of the world, the
businesses or burdens of life; so much we lose of the glory and joy
of religion, and deprive our souls of the comfort that God invites
us to receive.

Job was encompassed with sorrows all around, and his friends had
censured him as a vile hypocrite, and a great sinner, because he
was so terribly afflicted by the hand of God: whither should he run
now but to his heavenly Father, and tell him of all his sufferings?

From the practice of this holy man, I thought we might have
sufficient warrant to draw this inference, viz. that when a saint
gets near to God in prayer, he tells him all his circumstances, and
pleads for help. And this is the doctrine which I am endeavouring
now to improve. O if I could but come near him; I would spread all
my concerns before his eye, and I would plead with him for relief;
I would fill my mouth with arguments.

Four things I proposed in the prosecution of this doctrine.

I. To consider what it is for a soul to get near to God in prayer.

II. What particular subjects doth a soul, thus brought near to the
mercy-seat, converse with God about.

III. Why he causes to tell all his circumstances and his sorrows to
God, when he is thus near him.

IV. How he pleads for relief.

I. We have already considered what it is for a soul to get near
to the seat of God, and what are the usual attendants of such
a privilege. At such a season the holy soul will have an awful
and adoring sense of the majesty of God, a becoming fear of his
terrors, and some sweeter taste of his love. There will be a divine
hatred of every sin, and a sensible virtue and influence proceeding
from a present God, to resist every temptation; there will be a
spiritual and heavenly temper diffusing itself through the whole
soul, and all the powers of it; a fixedness of heart without
wandering; and a liveliness without tiring; no weariness is felt in
the spirit at such a season, even though the flesh may be ready to
faint under the overpowering sweetness; then the soul with freedom
opens itself before the eye of God, and melts and flows in divine
language, whether it complain or rejoice. But I have finished this
head, and repeat no more.

II. What are some of the particular circumstances or subjects of
complaint, that a saint brings to God when he comes near to him.

In general, a saint, when he is near to God, has all the fulness of
his heart breaking out into holy language; he pours out his whole
self before his God and his Father; all the infinite affairs that
relate to the flesh and spirit, to this life and that which is to
come; all things in heaven, and all things on earth, created or
uncreated, may, at one time or other, be the subjects of converse
between God and a holy soul. When the question is asked by a carnal
man, “What can a Christian talk with God so long and so often
about?” The Christian, in a divine frame, answers, “He that hath
matter enough for converse with God, to wear out time, and to fill
up eternity.” It may as well be asked on the other side, What has
he not to say? What is there that relates to God, or to himself, to
the upper, or the lower world, that he may not at some time say to
his God?

But I must confine myself from wandering in so large a field,
that I may comport with the design of my text. Though a good man,
in devout prayer often spreads his hopes and his joys before the
Lord as well as his sorrows, fear, and distresses; yet I shall at
present endeavour to set forth only the mournful and complaining
representations of his circumstances that he makes before the
throne of God.

1. If I could but come near the mercy-seat, I would confess how
great my sins are, and I would pray for pardoning grace. I would
say, “How vile I am by nature;” I would count my original descent
from Adam the great transgressor, and humble myself at the foot of
a holy God, because I am the descent of such a sinner. I would tell
him how much viler I have made myself by practice: “I have been
an enemy in my mind by nature, and guilty of many wicked works,
whereby I have farther estranged myself from him.” I would tell my
God how multiplied my transgressions have been before I knew him,
and how aggravated they have been since I have been acquainted
with him. I would acquaint him with the frequency of my returning
guilt, how I have sinned against mercies, against reproofs,
against warnings received often from his word, and often from his
providence.

I may appeal to the souls of many present, whether they have not
had the greatest freedom of confession of their sins when they have
been nearest to God, even though he be a God of holiness. At other
times they have not only been averse to confess to any friend, but
even unwilling to talk over to themselves the aggravation of their
iniquities, or to mention them in prayer; but when they are brought
thus near the throne of God, they unbosom themselves before him,
they pour out their sins and their tears together, with a sweet and
mournful satisfaction.

“I behold (says the saint) the great atonement, the blood of Jesus,
and therefore I may venture to confess my great iniquities, for the
satisfaction is equal to them all. When I behold God upon his seat,
I behold the Lamb in the midst of the throne as it had been slain,
and he is my Peace-maker. I see his all-sufficient sacrifice, his
atoning blood, his perfect, his justifying righteousness.” The soul
then answers the call of God with great readiness, when God says
in Isaiah i. 18. “Come let us reason together; though your sins
have been as scarlet, they shall be as wool.” “I am ready (says
the soul) to enter into such reasonings; I am ready to confess
before thee, that my sins are all crimson and scarlet, but there is
cleansing blood with thy Son. Blood that has washed the garments of
a thousand sinners, and made them as white as snow; and it has the
same virtue still to wash mine too; I trust in it, and rejoice when
I behold that blood sprinkled upon the mercy-seat, and therefore I
grow confident in hope, and draw yet nearer to God, a reconciled
God, since his throne has the memorials of a bleeding sacrifice
upon it.”

2. If I could get nearer the seat of God I would tell him how many
my enemies are, and how strong; how malicious, and how full of
rage. And I would beg strength against them, and victory over them.
I would say as David, “Many there be that hate me, many there be
that rise up against me, and many there be that say of my soul,
There is no help for him in God; but thou, O God, art my glory, my
shield, and the lifter up of my head,” Psal. iii. Then, says the
soul, I would complain to God of all my indwelling corruptions,
of the body of death that dwells in me, or in which I dwell; and
say; “O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me!” I would
tell him then of the secret working of pride in my heart, though
I long to be humble; of the rising of ambition in my soul, though
I would willingly maintain a middle state amongst men, and not
aim and aspire to be great. I would acquaint him of the vanity of
my own mind, though I am perpetually endeavouring to subdue it.
I would tell him, with tears, of my sinful passions, of my anger
and impatience, and the workings of envy and revenge in me; of the
perpetual stirrings of disorderly appetites, whereby I am led away
from my God; I would tell him of the hardness of my heart, and the
obstinacy of my temper. I would open before his eyes all the vices
of my constitution; all those sacred seeds of iniquity that are
ever budding and blossoming to bring forth fruit to death. These
things are fit to mourn before the Lord, when the soul is come near
to his seat.

I would complain of this sore enemy, the world, that is perpetually
besetting me, that strikes upon all my senses, that by the ears,
and the eyes, and all the outward faculties, draws my heart away
from God my best friend. I would tell him of the rage of Satan,
that watchful and malicious adversary; that I cannot engage in
any duty of worship but he is ready to throw in some foolish or
vain suggestion to divert me; and I would look forward, and point
to my last enemy, death, and beg the presence of my God with me,
when I walk through the dark valley; “Lord, when I enter into that
conflict, assist me, that I may fear no evil, but be made more than
a conqueror through him that has loved me.”

3. I would tell him what darkness I labour under, either in respect
of faith or practice. If I am perplexed in my mind, and entangled
about any of the doctrines of the gospel, I would tell them my
God what my entanglements are, where the difficulty lies; and I
would beg, that by his Spirit and his word, he would solve the
controversy, and set his own truth before me in his own divine
light. And then in point of practice, what darkness lies upon the
spirit at such a time, is revealed before God: “My way is hedged
up, I know not what path to chuse; it is very hard for me to find
out duty; show me, O Lord, the way wherein I should walk, and mark
out my path plain for me.”

4. I would mourn, and tell him how little converse I have with
himself, how much he is hidden from me; I would complain to him,
how far off I am from him the most part of my life, how few are
the hours of my communion with him, how short is the visit, how
much his face is concealed from me, and how far my heart is divided
from him. A soul then says, “Surely there is too great a distance
between me and my God, my heavenly Father;” and cries out with
bitterness, “Why is God so far from me, and why is my heart so
far from God? How often do I wait upon him in his own sanctuary,
and among his saints, but I am not favoured with a sight of his
power and glory there! And how often do I seek him in my secret
retirements, but I find him not! I would tell him how often I read
his promises in the gospel, and taste no sweetness; I go frequently
to those wells of consolation and they seem to be dry; then I turn
my face, and go away ashamed.”

5. I would tell him too of my temporal troubles, if I get near to
God, because they unfit me for his service, they make me uncapable
of honouring him in the world, and render me unfit for enjoying
him in his ordinances; I would tell him how they damp my zeal,
how they bow my spirit down, and make me go mourning all the day
long, to the dishonour of Christianity, which is a dispensation
of grace and joy. Thus I might complain before God of pains, of
weakness, of sickness, of the disorders of my flesh; I might
complain there too of the weakness of all my powers, the want of
memory, the scatterings and confusions that are upon my thoughts,
the wanderings of my fancy, and the unhappy influence that a
feeble and diseased body has upon the mind: “O my God, how am I
divided from thee by dwelling in such a tabernacle! Still patching
up a tottering cottage, and wasting my best hours in a painful
attendance on the infirmities of the flesh!”

I might then take the liberty of spreading before my God all the
sorrows and vexations of life, that unhinge my soul from its
centre, that throw it off from my guard, and hurry and expose me to
daily temptations. I might complain of my reproaches from friends
and enemies; because these, many times, wear out the spirit and
unfit it for acts of lively worship. These are my weekly sorrows
and groans, these are my daily fears and troubles; and these shall
be spread before the eyes of my God, in the happy hour when I get
near him.

Lastly, I would not go away without a word of pity and complaint
concerning my relations, my friends and acquaintance, that are afar
off from God. I would put in one word of petition for them that are
careless unconcerned for themselves; I would weep a little at the
seat of God for them: I would leave a tear or two at the throne
of mercy, for my dearest relatives in the flesh, for children,
brothers or sisters, that they may be brought near to God, in the
bonds of the Spirit. Then would I remember my friends in Christ,
my brethren and kindred in the gospel; such as labour under heavy
burdens, languish under various infirmities of life, or groan under
the power of strong temptations. When God indulges me the favour
of his ear, I would spread their wants and sorrows before him,
together with my own, and make supplication for all the saints. I
would leave a petition at the mercy-seat for my native country,
that knowledge and holiness may overspread the nation; that our
king may be a nursing-father to the church, and our princes may
be blessings to the land. And while I send up my request for the
British Islands, I would breathe out many a sigh for Zion, that she
may be the joy of the whole earth.--I proceed now to.

III. The third head of inquiry, which is this: Why does a saint,
when he gets near to God delight to tell him all his circumstances,
and all his sorrows?

In general I might say this, because it is so seldom, at least in
our day, that a saint gets very near to God; therefore when he
finds that happy minute, he says to his God all he wants to say;
he tells him all his heart; he pours out all his wants before him;
because these seasons are very few. It is but here and there an
extraordinary Christian, who maintains constant nearness to God;
the best complain of too much distance and estrangement. But to
descend to particulars.

1. He is our chief friend, and it is an ease to the soul to vent
itself in the bosom of a friend, when we are in his company. More
especially as it was in the case of Job, when other friends failed
him when he began to tell them some of his sorrows, and withal
maintained his own integrity; they would not believe him, but
became his troublers instead of his comforters; “My friends, scorn
me,” saith Job, ch. xvi. 20, “but mine eye pours out tears to God.”
I go to my best friend, my friend in heaven, when my friends here
on earth neglect me.

Man is a sociable creature, and our joys and our sorrows are
made to be communicated, that hereby we may double the one and
alleviate the other. There is scarce any piece of human nature,
be it ever so stupid, but feels some satisfaction in the pleasure
of a friend, in communicating the troubles and the pleasures that
it feels; but those that have God for their highest and best
friend, they love to be often exercising such acts of friendship
with him, and rather with him than with any friend besides, rather
with him than all besides him. This is the noblest and highest
friendship; all condescension and compassion on the one side, and
all infirmity and dependance on the other! and yet both joined is
mutual satisfaction. Amazing grace of God to man! The Christian
rejoices in this admirable divine indulgence, and delights in all
opportunities to employ and improve it.

Besides, this is the way to maintain the vigour of piety, and
keep all the springs of divine love ever open and flowing in his
own heart; therefore he makes many a visit to the mercy-seat, and
takes occasion from every troublesome occurence in life, to betake
himself to his knees, and improves every sorrow he meets on earth,
to increase his acquaintance with heaven. He delights to talk all
his grievances over with his God. Hannah, the mother of Samuel,
is a blessed example of this practice, 1 Sam. i. 10. When she was
in bitterness of soul, by reason of a sore affliction, and the
teazing humour of her rival, she prayed to the Lord, and wept sore,
and when she had left her sorrows at the mercy-seat, she went away,
and did eat, and her countenance was no more sad, ver. 18. So
saith the Christian, “I commit my sorrows to my God, he is my best
friend, and I go away, and am no more sad; I have poured out my
cares into his ear, and cast my burdens upon him, and I leave them
there in peace.”

2. The saint knows God will understand him right, and will judge
right concerning his case and his meaning. Though the expression
(it may be) are very imperfect, below the common language of men,
and propriety of speech, yet God knows the meaning of the soul,
and he knows the mind of his Spirit, Rom. viii. The friends of Job
perverted his sense; therefore he turns aside to God, for he knows
God would understand him. It is a very great advantage, when we
spread our concerns before another person, to be well assured that
person will take us right, will take in our meaning fully, and
judge aright concerning our cause. Now we may be assured of this
when we speak to our God; he knows our thoughts afar, off, and all
our circumstances, better infinitely than we can tell him. These
our poor imperfect expressions of our wants, shall be no hinderance
to his full supplies, nor any bar to his exercise of friendship
toward us.

3. A saint pours out his soul before God, because he is sure of
secrecy there. How many things are there transacted between God and
a holy soul, that he could never publish to the world! and many
things also that concern his conduct in life, his embarassment of
spirit, his difficulties, his follies, or the obstinacy, guilt,
or follies of his friends or relatives, which prudence or shame
forbid him to tell his fellow creatures: and yet he wants to spread
them all before God his best friend, God his dearest relative,
the friend nearest to his heart. There may be many circumstances
and cases in life, especially in the spiritual life, which one
Christian could hardly communicate to another, though under
the strictest bonds and ties of natural, and civil, and sacred
relation; though we may communicate these very affairs, these
secret concerns, with our God, and unburden our souls of every
care, without the least public notice.

We cannot be perfect secure of this with regard to any creature;
for when we have experienced the faithfulness of a friend many
years, he may possibly be at last unfaithful: unfaithfulness is
mingled with our nature since the fall, and it is impossible any
person can be infallibly secure from it. Psal. lxii. 9. Men of
low degree are vanity, and great men are a lie; but we may leave
our case with our God, as secure as though we had communicated
it to none: nay, we may be easily secure and free in speaking,
because God knows all before-hand. Our complaint adds nothing to
his knowledge, although it eases our souls, and gives us sweet
satisfaction in having such a friend to speak to.

4. A saint believes the equity, faithfulness, and the love of God;
therefore he spreads his case before him. His equity, that the
judge of all the earth will do right; the righteous may plead with
him. His faithfulness, that he will fulfil all his promises; and
his love, that he will take compassion on those who are afflicted;
he will be tender to those who are miserable. David takes occasion
from this to address God under his sufferings and sorrows: Psal.
lxii. 1, 2. “He is my rock, and my salvation, and my defence; I
shall not be moved; therefore my soul waits upon God; my refuge is
in him; he is a God that hears prayer, therefore unto him shall
all flesh come,” Psal. lxv. 1. God will not account our complaints
troublesome, though they be never so often repeated; whereas men
are quickly wearied with the importunities of those who are poor
and needy. Great men are ready to shut their doors against those
who come too often for relief; but God delights to hear often from
his people, and to have them ask continually at his door for
mercy. Though he has almighty power with him, saith Job, yet he
will not plead against me with his great power; no, but he would
put strength in me; he would teach me how I should answer him; how
I should answer his justice, by appeals to his mercy; and how I
should speak prevailingly before him.

5. Lastly, A saint tells God all his circumstances and sorrows at
such a season, because he hopes for relief from him, and from him
only; for it is impossible creatures can give relief under any
trouble, unless God make them instruments of relief. And there are
some troubles in which creatures cannot be our helpers, but our
help must come only from God, and that in a more immediate way.
Whatsoever be our distress, whether it arise from past guilt and
the torments of an anxious and troubled conscience, or whether
it arise from the working of indwelling sin, the strength of
temptation, or the violence of temporal afflictions, still God is
able and willing to give relief. “Call upon me (saith the Lord) in
the day of trouble, I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify
me;” Psal. 1. 12. And he hath never said to the seed of Jacob, seek
ye my face in vain, Isa. xlv. 19.

IV. The fourth general head of discourse which I proposed, is to
shew how a saint, near the mercy-seat, pleads with God for relief.

Holy Job tells us in this text, that if he was got near to the seat
of God, he would fill his mouth with arguments.

Not as though he would inform God of the necessity, or the justice
of his cause, beyond what he knew before; no, this is impossible;
he that teacheth man all things, shall he not know? Psal. xciv. 9,
10. He who orders all the circumstances of our lives, and every
stroke of his own rod, can he be unacquainted with any thing that
relates to our sorrows?

Nor can we use arguments with God to awaken his ear, or move
his compassion, as though he had neglected us or forgotten our
distress; for all things are for ever naked and open before the
eyes of him with whom we have to do. The shepherd of Israel cannot
slumber; nor does his mercy want our awakenings.

But in this sort of expressions, the great God condescends to talk,
and to transact affairs with us, and permits us to treat with him
in a way suited to our weakness; he would have us plead and argue
with him, that we may show how deep a sense we have of our own
wants, and how entirely we depend on his mercy. Since we cannot
converse with him in a way equal to his own majesty and Godhead he
stoops to talk with us in such a way as is most agreeable to our
state, and most easy to our apprehension, he speaks such language
as we can understand, and invites us to humble conference with
him in the same way. Come, says God to his people, by Isaiah his
prophet, Come now, and let us reason together, Isa. i. 18. And he
often in holy scripture, represents himself as moved and influenced
by the prayers and pleadings of his afflicted saints; and he has
ordained before hand, that the day when he prepares their hearts to
pray, shall be the day when his ear shall hear the desire of the
humble, and shall be the season of their deliverence, Psal. x. 17.

If you inquire, how a Christian pleads with his God, and whence
does he borrow his arguments; I answer, that according to the
various sorrows and difficulties which attend him, so various
may his pleadings be for the removal of them. There is not a
circumstance which belongs to his affliction, but he may draw some
argument from it to plead for mercy; there is not one attribute of
the divine nature, but he may use it with holy skill, and thereby
plead for grace; there is not one relation in which God stands
to his people, nor one promise of his covenant, but may at some
time or other afford an argument in prayer. But the strongest
and sweetest argument that a Christian knows, is the name and
mediation of Jesus Christ his Lord. It is for the sake of Christ,
who has purchased all the blessings of the covenant, that a saint
hopes to receive them; and for the sake of Christ, he pleads that
God would bestow them.

But having treated largely on this subject, it remains that I make
a few useful reflections on the whole foregoing discourse.


REFLECTION I.

What a dull and uncomfortable thing is religion without drawing
near to God! for this is the very business for which religion is
designed; the end and aim of religion is getting nigh to God; if it
attain not this end it is nothing.

O the madness of hypocrites, who satisfy themselves to toil in long
forms of worship, and appear perpetually in the shapes of religion,
but unconcerned whether they ever get near to God by it or no!
They lose the end and design for which religion was made. What
if we know all the doctrines of the gospel; what if we can talk
rationally about natural religion; what if we can deduce one truth
from another, so as to spread a whole scheme of godliness before
the eyes or ears of those we converse with; what if we can prove
all the points of Christianity, and give uncontestable arguments
for the belief of them; yet we have no religion if our souls never
get near to God by them. A saint thinks it a very melancholy thing
when he is at a distance from God, and cannot tell God his wants
and sorrows. Though he be never so much studied in divinity, and
the deep things of God, yet if God be not with him, if he does not
come near to his mercy-seat, so as to converse with him as his
friend, the soul is concerned and grieved, and never rests till
this distance be removed. It is to little purpose all these forms
are maintained, if we have not the substance and the power of
godliness; if our God be not near us, if we never get near to God.


REFLECTION II.

How happy are we under the gospel, above all ages and nations
besides us, and before us! For we have advantages of getting near
to God, beyond what any other religion has; above what the heathen
world ever enjoyed; for their light of nature could never show
them the throne of grace; above what the ancient patriarchs had,
though God came down in visible shapes, and revealed and discovered
himself to them as a man or an angel; above what the Jews had,
though God dwelt among them in visible glory in the holy of holies.
The people were kept at a distance, and the high-priest was to come
thither but once a-year; and their veil, and smokes, and shadows,
did, as it were, conceal God from them, although they were types
of a future Messiah; and even their Shekinah itself, or cloud of
glory, gave them no spiritual idea or notion of Godhead, though it
was a shining emblem of God dwelling among them.


REFLECTION III.

Lastly, That future state of glory must be blessed indeed where we
shall be ever near to God, even to his seat, and have no sorrows
to tell him of. If it be so delightful a thing to come near the
seat of God here upon earth, to mourn before him, and to tell
him all our circumstances, and all our sorrows, how pleasurable
a blessedness must that of heaven be, where we shall be ever
rejoicing before him, as Christ Jesus was before the world was
made, rejoicing daily before him; and our delight shall be with
that God who created the sons of men; where we shall be for ever
telling him of our joys, and our pleasures, with humble adoration
of his grace, and everlasting gratitude.

O that I could raise your souls, and mine, to blessed breathings
after this felicity, by such representations! But how infinitely
short must the brightest descriptions fall of this state and place!
May you and I, who speak and hear this, may every soul of us be
made thus happy one day, and learn the extent and glory of this
blessedness, by sweet and everlasting experience. Amen.


FINIS.




  A

  TOKEN FOR

  MOURNERS.

  WITH A SELECTION OF

  SCRIPTURE PROMISES,

  RELATIVE TO

  THE TROUBLES of LIFE.

  Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
    But trust him for his grace;
  Behind a frowning Providence
    He hides a smiling face.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW;
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




A

TOKEN

FOR

MOURNERS.

&c.


  2. KINGS, iv. 26.

  _And she answered, It is well._

Short words, soon spoken; but to have a suitableness of heart to
them is one of the highest attainments of faith. To be sure, “It
is well;” we think so, when all things go according to our wish;
when there is nothing in Providence that crosses our desires, that
thwarts our designs, that sinks our hopes, or awakens our fears;
Submission is easy work then; but to have all things seemingly
against us, to have God smiting in the tenderest part, unravelling
all our schemes, contradicting our desires, and standing aloof
from our very prayers; how do our souls behave then? This is
the true touchstone of our sincerity and submission; “Here,” as
it is said, Rev. xiii. 10, “is the patience and faith of the
saints;” this shews what they are made of, what they are within;
but instances there are many in the book of God, wherein we find
this sweet frame prevailing, as Abraham, Job, David, and the
Shulamite in my text, than whose story we meet with few things
in Providence more affecting. If you look back a little, you may
see what were her circumstances, and those of her family. She was
a “great woman,” says verse 8, and that she was a “good woman,”
the whole context shews, her husband and she wanted but one thing
to make them as happy as the vanity and uncertainty of all human
affairs would admit of. They had enough of the world, and they
seem to have had the enjoyment of it; for when Elisha, to requite
her kindness, asks; “What shall be done for thee? Wouldst thou
be spoken for to the king? &c.” she answers, “No, I dwell among
mine own people,” “I seek nothing greater than what I have:” only
(as Gehazie learned from her) they wanted a child to comfort them
now, and to inherit what they had when they were gone. God in a
miraculous way, gives this request. This child grows up, and was no
doubt the delight of its parents. Just at the time of life when
children are most engaging, before they are capable of doing any
great thing to grieve their parents, God lays his hand suddenly
upon him and takes him away. The dearest comforts are but short
lived, and the dearer they are when living, the deeper they cut
when they are removed. Many of you can judge what the loss of a
son, an only son, must be, and when there is no hope of a Seth
instead of Abel. But, behold, “he taketh away, and who shall
hinder him?” Well: What does the mother do now? One would think
all her hope is cut off, and all her comfort dried up: No, it is
far otherwise. The same power that gave him could also raise him;
in faith of this, she lays him upon the prophet’s bed, and makes
all the haste to him she could. She concealing what had happened
(as it is probable) from her husband, he objects to her going to
the prophet, ver. 23, “Wherefore wilt thou go to him to-day? It is
neither new-moon nor Sabbath.” And she said, “It shall be well.”
Faith sets aside every obstacle: “It shall be well: the end will be
peace;” “God is with me, and he will make all things work together
for good.” Commentators, in general, make very light of this, and
her answer to Elisha’s message in my text. Some suppose she has a
reserve in her breast, when Gehazi asks after her family, that
this “well” only refers to her husband and herself. Others think
it is but a transition to something farther, which she was in
haste to say; as if she had said, “All is well do not hinder me, I
have urgent business with your master Elisha, and cannot stay to
talk farther with you upon any matters.” This is the sense which
most annotators incline to, which, I confess, I the more wonder
at, because all agree, that the apostle’s words in part refer to
this story, Heb. xi. 35. “Women received their dead raised to life
again.” How they received them is there specified; namely, by or
“through faith.” Faith, not as some carry it, in the prophet, but
in the persons who had their dead restored to them; or else there
would have been no need to make mention of any by name. Now wherein
this woman’s faith appeared, my text and context make manifest.
Here was a dependance upon God’s promise, an abiding by that, God
had promised her a son; a son, not to lose him but to have comfort
in him; and, as if she had said, “As for God, his work is perfect,
he does not use to raise his people’s expectations for nothing;
to give and immediately take away again. My son is dead, but God,
all sufficient liveth; why should I mourn as though I had no hope?
As for God’s power and faithfulness there is no abatement in
them.” Therefore, she makes no preparation for his burial tells her
husband nothing of his death, but seeks to God by the prophet, and
expects help from him, See how she expresses herself: “Is it well
with thee?” (and says Gehazzi,) “Is it well with thy husband? Is
it well with the child?” and she answered, “It is well”. Here is
the greatest submission in the greatest distress: Her son, her only
son, the son of all her love, the son of her old age, he is taken
away with a stroke, and yet all is well. There is nothing amiss in
the dispensation; had she been to choose it, it is well; she has
nothing to object. Here are submission and faith both discovered in
their sweet exercise; submission to what God hath done; faith in
what he is able to do, and in what she believed he would do: “By
faith women received their dead raised to life again;” so that the
words, thus explained, afford us this plain and useful observation.

OBSERV. Faith in God’s promise and power will bring a man to submit
to the sorest and most trying dispensations of his Providence; or
thus,

Faith where it is in exercise, will teach a Christian to say of all
God does, “It is well.”

In discoursing on this proposition, I will endeavour to show what
submission is, or how and in what sense we are to understand the
expression in my text, “It is well.”

This “well” dost not suppose there is nothing in providential
dispensations, which to flesh and sense appears evil. Submission
quiets under an affliction, but it does not take away our sense
and feeling of the affliction. The apostle speaks what is every
believer’s experience, Heb. xii. 11. “No chastening for the present
seemeth to be joyous, but grievous.” Whatever be spoken of the good
of it, it presents itself unto us with a very different face; it
is matter of present grief and sorrow to them that are chastised;
nor are we blamed for our feeling and sense of it. Our blessed Lord
himself wept at the grave of his dear friend, John xi. 35. And
at the approach of his last sufferings, “his soul was exceeding
sorrowful, even unto death,” Matt. xxvi. 38. “yet he was led as a
lamb to the slaughter; he opened not his mouth”: there was patience
and quiet submission under all his sorrows, while nature had some
vent; for groans are sometimes an easement to our grief. Thus it
is said of the good woman, “that her soul was bitter within her,”
ver. 27. Elisha saw her agony in her looks, though he knew not the
cause of it; and yet “All is well.” When Job lost his substance and
his children, and was smitten in his body with sore boils; when
Heman, and when the church in the Lamentations were deprived of the
consolations from God, when the Comforter, who would relieve their
souls, was far from them; when David also was cursed by Shimei, and
turned out of doors by his own son; can you think that in all these
there was no feeling? Had there been none, there could have been no
profit by any of the dispensations. Unless we realize our trials
indeed, what are we the better for them? This would be to despise
the chastening of the Lord, to be above correction, to be smitten
and not grieve, is one of God’s sorest judgments, and always argues
a soul ripe for ruin: this “well” does not suppose us insensible of
the evil of afflicting.

Though we believe all that befals us is well, this does not forbid
our inquiring into the reasons of God’s providential dispensations,
and a searching out the cause for which they come upon us. Every
rod hath a voice in it, and the “man of understanding will hear
it,” and “see the name of God in it,” Micah vi. 9. what God intends
by it, what is his ends and design in it; for he does not afflict
willingly, nor grieve the children of men, Lam. iii. 33. There is
a “need be” in every dispensation that befals us: 1 Pet. i. 6.
“Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season” (if need be)
“ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations.” God acts with
judgment in proportion to our needs; there is a conveniency and
fitness, nay, there is an absolute necessity in the case; it must
be that we are in heaviness and that through manifold temptations.
One single trial oftentimes will not do, to empty us of self, to
wean us from the world, to shew us the vanity of the creature, the
sinfulness of sin, &c.; it must be repeated or others joined with
it, so fast are our affections glued to the things of time and
sense. Now, what this need is in us, what this intention and end
is in God, the Christian will and ought to be searching out, and
inquiring daily into. This was Job’s frame, (and ye have heard,
as says the apostle, of the patience of Job.) Job xxxiv. 31. 32.
“Surely it is meet to be said unto God I have borne chastisement, I
will not offend any more. That which I see not, teach thou me; if I
have done iniquity, I will do no more.” Sin lies deep, it must be
searched after in the deep and secret corners of the heart; there
is so much self-love and self-flattery hid there, that a man cannot
judge aright of himself, or of God without divine teachings.

“It is meet to be said unto God, I have borne chastisement.”
Sirs, it is one thing to be chastised, and another thing to
bear chastisement; to behave aright under it; to be patient,
submissive, thankful; to have a frame of heart suited to the
dispensation, whatever it is. This is to bear chastisement: and
wherever this is, the language of the soul will be, “That which I
see not teach thou me; I have done iniquity, I will do no more.”
When an affliction is sanctified, it always begets godly fear
and jealousy. A man is then most afraid of his own heart, lest
that should deceive him; lest he should come out of the furnace
unpurged, unrefined; lest the end of God’s visitation upon him
should be unattained. And this is well consistent with our
believing all that God does is well done. Once more,

A soul may say in a becoming frame, and in the exercise of suitable
affections, “It is well,” and yet long, and pray, and wait from the
trial. Submission to the will of God, under awful dispensations,
is not inconsistent with earnest prayer for a gracious and speedy
issue to these very dispensations. “It is well,” says this good
woman in my text; and yet how does she plead for the life of
the child, ver. 28. “Did I desire a son of my lord? Did not I
say do not deceive me?” As if she had said, “I asked it not, I
could scarce believe it when it was promised me; God raised my
expectations himself, he encouraged my hopes, and surely he will
not go back from his own word.” It was a wonderful act of faith;
but the promises of God can never lie long unfulfilled: when he
has prepared the heart to pray, his own ear is open to hear. He
has not called himself “I am that I am,” for nothing. Abraham
staggered not at the promise through unbelief, no more does the
daughter of Abraham here: it is blessed pleading, “Did not I say,
do not deceive me?” “May I trust? May I venture? He has given me
the faithful word of God to rely on; here my faith resteth.” And
a son came in due season. Now she looks to God, the author of the
mercy, and applies to the prophet, who was the revealer of it. He
sends Gehazi with his staff, but this will not content her, except
Elisha goes himself: she knows that he was great with God; she
will therefore have his prayers and presence “As the Lord liveth,
and as thy soul liveth, I will not leave thee,” ver. 30. All this
argues the strong desires of her heart after the return of the
child’s life, though still she says, “All is well.” While, we bear
chastenings, we may pray, and pray hard that God would take them
off. “If it be possible,” (says innocent aggrieved nature in the
man Christ,) “let this cup pass from me,” Matthew xxvi. 26. Opening
our mouth against God is our sin, but it is our duty to open our
mouths and our hearts to him. In the former sense, says David, “I
was dumb, I opened not my mouth, because thou didst it,” Psal.
xxxix. 9.; and yet, with the same breath, he adds, “Remove thy
stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand,”
ver. 10. Was a child under the direction of a parent to intimate
no desire of his forbearance, should we not rather account him
stubborn than submissive? In like manner, not to ask of God release
from troubles, is as offensive as to mourn at them. It is the token
of a proud heart and a relentless spirit. God expects other things
at our hands; even of the wicked he says, “In their affliction they
will seek me early;” much more shall his own people, who have known
his name, and put their trust in him; who have known the advantage
of prayer, and been so often set at liberty by it from all their
fears. If these are silent, they cannot be sensible nor submissive.
Only in all their prayers, when they are most earnest and vehement,
“If it be consistent with the will of God,” and there will be no
limiting him as to time or way.

These things are neither of them inconsistent with the soul’s
saying, under the most awful rebukes, “All is well.”

Now, what is included in this “well” in my text, or what is this
submission to the will of God? It takes in, as I apprehend, these
three things:

1. A justifying God in all he does “It is well;” God cannot do
amiss; he worketh all things after the counsel of his own will, to
the praise of his glory. “And after all that is come upon us,” says
the Church, Ezra ix. 13. “thou, our God, hast punished us less than
our iniquities deserve; thou hast taken vengeance according to the
desert of our sins.” When sin appears to be what it is in itself,
exceeding sinful, affliction will appear light, and not till then.
Wherefore, says the church, Lam. iii. 39, “wherefore, does a living
man complain, for the punishment of his sins?” So long as we are
out of hell, God punishes less than our iniquities deserve.

Whatever be our trial, it comes from God: he is the author,
whoever be the instrument, therefore, “it is well,” He cannot do
iniquity: David had not one word to say, by way of complaint, when
he saw God’s hand in the affliction: yea, let him curse, for “the
Lord hath bid Shimei curse David,” 2 Sam. xvi. 12. We may puzzle
and distress ourselves about instruments and second causes, but
no quiet no rest can we have, till we are led to the first. “He
performeth the thing appointed for me;” that settles the soul, but
nothing else will do it. “Be still and know that I am God,” Psal.
xlvi. 10. If thy children are taken, thy substance fails, thy body
is sore vexed, thy comforts, and even the presence of thy God
leaves thee; yet be still, that is, do not say a word against the
dispensation, do not fret, do not censure and condemn Providence.
I am God, thy God in all; and a covenant God cannot do amiss. God
will be glorified and exalted, that’s enough for us. This, “It is
well,” implies in it, not in some things, but in all.

2. This submission implies in it, our approving of all God does;
not only it is not amiss, but it is right; it is the best way, the
only sure way to bring about our good. Therefore holy Job blesses
God in all, chap. i. 21. “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and
naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken
away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” He had the same great and
good thought of God as ever he had; God was his God still, and the
God of his mercy. He should have an expected, a desired end; that
he believed still, still, because God’s thoughts were the same they
ever were; that is thoughts of peace and not of evil. And this is
the frame in which we find the poor saints, that were scattered up
and down throughout the whole world almost, 1 Pet. i. 6. “who are
kept by the power of God through salvation, ready to be revealed in
the last time, wherein ye greatly rejoice,” &c. They were far from
one another to avoid persecution, it was in their way: but none of
these things moved them. There was joy in their expected rest in
happiness at last, though there was great pain and heaviness in the
way to it: the way was rough, but right; therefore they approved
of it, they acquiesced in it; nay, herein “they greatly rejoiced.”
Thus the saints of old took joyfully the spoiling of their goods,
and were tortured, not accepting deliverance, because they knew
in themselves, “that they had in heaven a better and an enduring
substance,” Heb. x. 34. O that blessed knowledge! it comforts,
refreshes, it fills the soul, and lifts a man above himself.

Every path which God takes is right then and the believer chooses
to walk in it: His God, his Father, has marked it out, and nothing
goes so against the grain, but that “all is well,” which his Father
does: His will is brought to be one with God’s; the soul approves
of all God does.

3. This submission implies in it our cleaving to God in all. To
be pleased with God as a friend, when he seems to be coming forth
against, us as an enemy; to lean upon a promise, when all the ways
leading to the performance are shut up; to rejoice in God when we
have nothing left beside to rejoice in, and faith is hard put to
it to call God ours. Thus, to cleave to God when we do not find
comfort from him, this is believing indeed; to love the hand that
smites, this is true grace and great grace. A noble act of faith
was that, Job xiii. 15. “though he slay me, yet will I trust in
him;” So “Abraham staggered not at the promises through unbelief,”
Rom. iv. 20. He brought God’s promises and faithfulness close
together, and considered none of the difficulties nay absurdities,
which came between them: It was not--“Is this reasonable? What
probability is there in that? How can these things be?” &c. but
being not weak in faith, he considered not his own body now dead,
neither yet the deadness of Sarah’s womb, but was strong in faith,
giving glory to God; he clave to him, abode by his promise in a way
of faith and firm dependance.

This is the true nature of submission, and is contained in that
expression in my text, “It is well.” A word of use.--

USE 1. Wonder not at your trials, be they never so strange: “All is
well;” some secret end is to be answered which you see not; God is
in all; the hand and love of a Father is there. They are to purge
from sin, to wean from the world, to bring you from the foot of
God, to shew you that your rest is not here, that it lies beyond
the grave. What though they make you smart, they do you the more
good: this argues your sensibleness under the rod; that is not
a rod which does not cause smart; the sharpest physic does most
service, because it reaches the inward, hidden cause, not one of
our many trials which we could well spare.

USE 2. Do not think any trial sanctified, till you have a
suitable frame to the trial, whatever it be. Are you humbled?
Are you prayerful? Are you submissive? Have you looked inward,
and confessed your sin, saying, Take away all iniquity? If the
affliction has not brought you to this, it hath done you no good.
For all you may have borne, his anger is not turned away, but his
hand is stretched out still.

USE 3. Do not think of other means, whereby God’s end in visiting
you might have been as well answered; that is, in fact, to quarrel
with God in what he has done, or is doing. Have a care of your
thoughts; unsubmission slips in at that door before one is aware.
“It is well,” is the only soul quickening and God-glorifying frame.
God that has appointed the end, has settled, and he will order the
means: Rest there, and “all is well.”


HINTS TO THE AFFLICTED.

What fatal mischiefs would follow, if there was no variety in our
experience! There are so many remains of depraved nature in the
hearts of the saints, that if the warm sun of prosperity did always
shine upon the Lord’s garden, the weeds would quickly multiply, the
choicest flowers wither, and an army of caterpillars devour the
pleasant fruits. To prevent these, God will not suffer his people
to enjoy uninterrupted prosperity, but wisely appoints seasons of
affliction and trouble.

On the other hand, were we to groan under perpetual adversity, our
souls perhaps would suffer equal prejudice. Our heavenly father
will not always chide; he remembers that we are but dust, and that
our flesh is not like brass or iron. Were we never in the fire, our
dross would not be consumed, and were we always to be in the fire,
our silver and gold would be wasted.

Hereby God takes a proper method for the exercise and improvement
of the graces of his children. Without such a mixed condition,
there could be no room for many of them, and not room enough for
any of them to appear in their glory and beauty. Were it always a
day of prosperity where would be the proof of their faith, hope and
patience?--the evil day brings thee to rest. To possess our souls
in patience, in the day of trouble to believe the good will and
fatherly love of God even when he smites, is a point of no small
difficulty.--But, were we never to enjoy a season of prosperity,
where would be the evidence of our humility, heavenly mindedness,
and contempt of a present world? Variety adds a beauty and lustre
to providence. In the day of prosperity therefore, we ought to
rejoice with trembling, and in the day of adversity, to consider
and faint not; for “God hath set one against the other, to the end
that no man might find any thing after him,” Eccl. vii. 14.

       *       *       *       *       *

While in this valley of tears, it is not wonderful that believers
should be often called to weep. To mingle their tears with those of
their brethren--or in the words of the apostle, to “weep with those
that weep,”--is a part of the holy fellowship they are called to by
the gospel.

At present, the way of providence in general is dark and
mysterious. There is a depth in it, for which we have no line.
There are many seals on it, not fit as yet to be opened. But when
the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne, shall open the seals,
and shew the meaning of all the dark passages in that mysterious
book, and every one is made to view that part of it that related
to the way in which they were brought through manifold tribulations
to the kingdom, when they will all strike up on the highest key,
and sing “HE HATH DONE ALL THINGS WELL!”

Believers ought to comfort one another with these words. It is
heartsome for travellers on the road in a dark night, and going
to the same place, to speak to each other in the language of
the country to which they are going, and to say, “What of the
night! what of the night!” And to encourage one another, by often
reiterating that animating reply, “The morning cometh.”

The shadows of the evening are daily growing longer with all the
travellers to the heavenly Sion. But at evening time it shall
be light. The bright shining of the sun of Righteousness will
make even the passage through the dark valley of the shadow of
death lightsome and pleasant. Faith can see eternal day at the
farther end of it. Jesus went through the Jordan of death when it
overflowed all its banks, and was brimful of the curse. But his
death drank up the curse, and left nothing but a blessing to all
his redeemed: and his sweet and cheering voice is still to be heard
in the passage--“Fear not! I am He that liveth, and was dead; and
behold I am alive for evermore; and have the keys of hell and of
death!”

“IF THEIR UNCIRCUMCISED HEARTS,” said the Lord respecting ancient
Israel, “be humbled, and they ACCEPT of the punishment of their
iniquity, then will I remember my covenant with Jacob,” &c. Lev.
xxvi. 41.--of the punishment of their iniquity! that is, bear it
willingly contentedly. It is a happy state of mind when our trials
are ACCEPTED ones: when God’s chastening hand is even esteemed a
kindness.--Lord! may the believer say, I will not puzzle myself
with hows, and whys, and yets. THOU hast done it; I rest there.
It seemed good in thy sight that is a sufficient reason. Let God
choose my portion; I am sure it will be best in the end.--Even when
He acts as a Sovereign, he forgets not his relation as a father.


SCRIPTURE PROMISES.

Psalm 68--6. A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widow
is God in his holy habitation.

Jeremiah 49--11. Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve
them alive; and let thy widows trust in me.

Job 5--17. Happy is the man whom God correcteth: therefore despise
not thou the chastening of the Almighty. Verse 18. For he maketh
sore, and bindeth up; he woundeth, and his hands make whole.

Psalm 119--67. Before I was afflicted I went astray; but now have
I kept thy word Verse 71. It is good for me, that I have been
afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes. 75. I know, O Lord, thy
judgements are right, and thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.

2. Corinthians 4--16. For which cause we faint not; but though our
outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. Verse
17. For our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh for
us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.

Hebrews 21--6. Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth
every son whom he receiveth. Verse 7. If ye endure chastening,
God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the
father chasteneth not? 10. They verily, for a few days chastened us
after their own pleasure; but he for our profit, that we might be
partakers of his holiness. 11. Now no chastening for the present
seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless, afterward it
yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness, unto them which are
exercised thereby.

Deut. 8--5. As a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord thy God
chasteneth thee.

Job 36--8. And if they be bound in fetters, and be holden in cords
of affliction. Verse 9. Then he sheweth them their work and their
transgressions, that they have exceeded. 10. He openeth also their
ear to discipline, and commandeth that they return from iniquity.

Psalm 94--12. Blessed is the man whom thou chastenest, O Lord and
teachest him out of thy law. Verse 13. That thou mayest give him
rest from the days of adversity, until the pit be digged for the
wicked.

Romans 5--3. We glory in tribulation also, knowing that tribulation
worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope.

Job 19--26. Though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my
flesh shall I see God. Verse 27. Whom I shall see for myself, and
mine eyes shall behold, and not another, though my reins shall be
consumed within me.

Isaiah 26--19. Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body
shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust: for
thy dew is as the dew of herbs: and the earth shall cast out the
dead.




  A

  PRAYER BOOK

  FOR

  FAMILIES

  AND PRIVATE PERSONS,

  UPON VARIOUS SUBJECTS AND OCCASIONS

  In which all the Prayers are so arranged, that when any one is
  too long to be used without inconvenience, it may be shortened by
  leaving out some of the paragraphs: and this may be done without
  injury to the connection.

  TO WHICH ARE ADDED,

  GRACES FOR YOUNG PERSONS.


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




PRAYER-BOOK.

  The following admonition read occasionally before Family-worship,
  is very proper to produce seriousness of mind, and to keep up a
  godly jealousy, lest hypocrisy and formality should render this
  important duty of no use.


My Friends and Fellow-Christians,

We, dust and ashes, are assembled to speak unto the holy Lord God
of heaven and earth, our Maker and our Judge, who deserves from us
all possible reverence whenever we presume to call upon Him. We are
going to pray to that God who strictly charges us to take heed that
we draw not nigh to him with our lips, whilst our hearts are far
from him--to that God who is of purer eyes to regard our services
without the meditation of the Holy One and the Just, who died for
our sins, but hath promised to give us whatever we shall ask of him
in his name, and to perform all our petitions.

Now, therefore, let us lift up our hearts to him that he may fill
us with reverence and godly fear, with sincerity and lowliness of
mind, with lively faith in the blood and prevailing intercession
of Jesus, and with assurance that we shall receive whatever we
ask according to his will. With these holy dispositions we should
always desire to bow down our knees before God.


A FAMILY MORNING PRAYER.

O Thou, Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and God of glory, who
hast so loved the world as to give thy only-begotten Son, to
the end, that all who believe in him should not perish but have
everlasting life, mercifully regard us merciful sinners. Thou seest
how slow of heart we are to believe the record thou hast given of
thy Son. Though we read of his glory, how little does it affect us!
Though he has a name which is above every name in heaven or earth,
how little affiance do we feel in him! or consolation from all that
he hath done and suffered!

Have compassion upon us, O Lord, and help us. Give us what thou
hast most graciously promised, the Spirit of truth to open our
understanding, that we may understand the things which are spoken
of thy Son in the scriptures. O give us the spirit of wisdom and
revelation in the knowledge of him; of his person and his office;
of his love and power towards all that hear his voice and follow
him; that so we may abound in clear, magnificent, and endearing
thoughts of Jesus Christ the Lord; that he may be no less precious
to us than he was to the glorious company of the Apostles, and the
noble army of the martyrs. Thou, O God, hast declared that thy Son
shall be exalted and extolled, and shall be very high. Help us,
we earnestly pray thee, to give him the honour day by day, more
perfectly. Enable us to comprehend with all saints the immeasurable
extent of his love; the breadth and length, the height and depth
thereof.

We beg this of thee, O our God, in order that we may have our
affections raised up to heaven, where Christ sitteth on thy right
hand; that we may grow more dead to the world, and walk more
becoming our Christian character: that we may be enriched as much
as possible with light and grace, joy and peace in this present
life; and to shew forth the praise of Him who hath called us out of
darkness into marvellous light.

We beseech thee, that the excellency of our knowledge of Christ
may be evidenced to others, by our adding day by day to our faith
a noble Christian courage, in defence of his truth, honour, and
government: by a constant victory over our corrupt affections;
by a moderate use of all lawful comforts; by a meek and quiet
spirit under all our trials, and by resignation to the will of our
heavenly Father.

Grant, O Lord, that our knowledge of the redemption that is in
Jesus may work effectually this day upon our hearts. Let the
Saviour’s love to us be the pattern of ours to all that are round
about us; let it make us zealous to embrace all opportunities
of ministering to the happiness of one another. If we cannot
assist the needy by our alms, or protect the oppressed by our
power, O let us diligently exercise love, in abstaining from all
uncharitableness of speech, from all forwardness and evil tempers:
let us look upon the failings of others with pity, as if they were
our own: make us kind and tender hearted, forbearing and forgiving
all, as thou, for Christ’s sake, hast forgiven us. Banish from
our dwelling all variance, whisperings, heart-burnings, and evil
surmisings. Let peace and gentleness, meekness and goodness, be
exercised by all of us one towards another, and the only contention
in our family be this, who shall conform most to the will of God,
by abounding in brotherly kindness and fervent charity. Thou, O
God, that makest men to be of one mind that dwell together, inspire
us with a spirit of concord, and harmonize all our naturally
selfish tempers. O let this benefit at least be found from our
family-devotion, that we may agree better together, and live more
in peace and quietness, than those who call not upon thee; who lie
down and rise up like the herd of the stall, never saying, Where is
God the Maker!

Continue, we beseech thee, if it seemeth good to thee, the voice of
health and strength amongst us, and the favour of thy prosperous
providence; but give us grace to expect and to be ready for a
change. And, as in a day, nay, in an hour, our prosperity may
be turned by thee into deep affliction, our health into pining
sickness, our ease into tormenting pain, and our life into death.
O Lord God, establish us in Christ Jesus, and give the earnest of
thy spirit in our hearts, that, whatever we are called to suffer,
we may not be afraid with any amazement, but bear our cross
cheerfully, to the edification of those around us.

Comfort and protect continually all our near relations and dear
friends. Sanctify to them their present circumstances whatever they
are. May they mind the things of the Spirit, and never be deluded
by things of time and sense. Be their guide through life, and at
death give them admission into thy kingdom and glory.

Promote, O God, the peace and welfare of this our country. Let
thy servant, our most gracious King, be continually, guided by
thy counsel, and reign over us in righteousness. May he and his
Ministers with unwearied labour, seek to promote thy glory and his
people’s good.

Free and relieve all who are distressed or oppressed; regard their
hearts, bear their sighs and make them to see their sin in their
suffering, to humble themselves under thy hand, and find that it is
good for them to be afflicted. Bless our enemies; do good to them
who hate us; and ever enable us to return good-will for evil.

Accept our praises for our continued preservation by thy goodness,
who has first brought us into being; for sleep upon our beds, for
the return of the day after the shades of darkness, for the use
of our reason, the comfort of this opportunity of worshipping
thy name, and above all, for the light of life, the Son of
Righteousness, Christ Jesus; for whom, with all that is within us,
we should bless thy name; in whom we command ourselves and our
services to thee; and to whom, with thyself and the Holy Ghost, one
God over all, be all honour and praise, love and obedience, for
evermore.

Our Father which art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom
come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this
day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive
them that trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but
deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and
the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.


A FAMILY EVENING PRAYER.

Blessed and holy Lord God, who didst make all things by thy power,
who rulest all things by thy providence, and fillest all things by
thy presence, we, thy unworthy creatures, beseech thee to fill our
hearts with an awful sense of thee, and with humility, sincerity,
and faith in Christ in our approaches to thee.

We thankfully acknowledge our absolute dependence upon thee;
for our lives, and all the comforts of them, we are indebted to
thy bounty. Thy hands have fashioned us in the womb, brought us
into this world, and ever since we saw the light, filled us with
variety of good. We adore thy sparing mercy. Justly mightest thou
have brought upon us all the curses written in the book of thy
law against thy transgressors: and had thy ways been as our ways,
and thy thoughts like our thoughts towards our enemies, we had
long since been past the power of offering to thee our thanks and
praise, beyond the benefit of prayer, or the hope of pardon.

We confess, O Lord, we have been transgressors of thy law, in
thought, word, and deed. We are chargeable with the workings
and defilements of pride and hypocrisy, of uncharitableness and
sensuality of self-love, and worldliness of heart, notwithstanding
all the methods thou hast taken to heal these diseases of our
souls. We have sinned against the clear revelation of thy will,
and the strongest obligations binding us to comply with it. We
have sinned against thy most inviting promises, and thy most
dreadful threatenings: against the frequent warnings of thy Word,
the renewed motions and powerful convictions of thy Spirit, and
the precious blood of Christ. We have sinned against the light of
our understanding, against promises and purposes of obedience, and
against the strongest remonstrances of our own conscienses.

O God, we cannot recount the number of our sins, nor fully set in
order all their aggravations. We should not therefore presume to
ask for thy pardoning mercy, if we do not trust that thy Spirit has
created within us a holy mourning for all our wickedness, and for
that corruption of our nature, from whence as their fountain, all
these poisonous streams have flowed. O humble us effectually, and
place before us all the detestable qualities which meet together
in every act of sin, that injustice and contempt towards thee,
that rebellion and ingratitude which prevail in it. And oh! most
merciful Father, speak peace to our souls, weary and heavy laden
with guilt, through the death and sufferings of thy dear Son, and
for the sake of his precious sacrifice, avert the punishment from
us. Increase in us the faith whereby we only can be justified, and
have peace with thee, through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Accompany thy pardoning mercy with thy purifying grace. Help us,
O Father, thou God of all power and might, to put of the old
man, which is corrupt, according to the deceitful lusts, and to
put on the new man which is created after thine own image, in
righteousness and true holiness. Give us a new heart and put
within us a new spirit. O grant us a mind weaned from the pomps
and pleasures, the profits and honours, and all the transitory
enjoyments of the flesh; but hungering and thirsting after
righteousness. Prevent us by thy grace, that we may never more
commit sin with the deceitful hope of gaining advantage by it.
Impress us continually with the conviction, that the gaining of the
whole world can be of no recompense for the loss of the soul.

O let that solemn account we must ere long give, when the throne
shall be set, the books be opened, and the dead, small, and great,
stand before God, influence the whole course of our lives; O let
us so believe and so obey, that when Christ shall come in the
clouds with power and great glory, we may then cry out in holy
raptures. Lo, this is our God, we have waited for him, and he will
save us! This is the Lord, we will be glad and rejoice in his
salvation!

In thy merciful protection, O God, we humbly commit ourselves, our
dear friends and relations this night. The darkness is no darkness
with thee, but the night is as clear as the day. Defend, we beseech
thee, our persons, our dwellings, and our possessions. Refresh us
with sweet sleep; and with the health and strength of our bodies,
and the vigour of our minds, let us serve thee all our days, till
through the gate of death we enter into that blessed kingdom, where
there is no night; where we all receive the end of our faith, even
the salvation of our souls, through Jesus Christ; in dependence
upon whose righteousness and intercession we farther pray: Our
Father, &c.


FOR THE LORD’S DAY MORNING.

Thanks be unto thee, O most merciful and gracious God, for having
devoted this day to thy service. Never can we sufficiently express
the obligations we owe thee for this stated season of rest from
labour; for this delightful opportunity afforded us of imitating
the heavenly host, whilst we assemble ourselves with one heart
and voice to glorify thee, O God, our heavenly Father; and thee O
Christ, our Advocate, Righteousness, and Life; and thee, O eternal
Spirit, the Comforter and Sanctifier of the Church of God.

We praise thee, who instead of loathing our persons for our
sinful pride and stubborn forgetfulness of thee, hast taken the
most effectual methods to teach us the knowledge and plant in us
the love of thy name. We praise thee that thou hast commanded
us to make, on this day, public confession of our guilt, and of
thy hatred of sin; of our disobedience and the riches of thy
forbearance towards us; of our weakness, depravity, and need of
thy perpetual grace to help us. We praise thee for commanding us
to make public intercession for all sorts and conditions of men,
in order that our hearts may be the more enlarged towards them,
and our hands the more ready to minister to their necessities. We
praise thee for this opportunity of hearing thy holy scripture,
which is profitable for our reproof, for our correction, and for
our instruction in righteousness.

We bless thee that we have our habitation fixed in the land of
liberty, under the bright beams of thy glorious gospel; that we can
worship thee according to our conscience, no one making us afraid;
that we are not required to pay adoration to those who by nature
are not gods, nor compelled to bow down at the altar of idols. We
praise thee that we are in health and strength to use the sacred
opportunity of going with the multitude that keep thy holy day,
into the house where thou hast recorded thy name, and promised to
meet and bless us. How amiable are thy dwellings, O Lord of hosts;
one day employed in them is better than a thousand engrossed by the
business of the world.

We praise thee also for passing by all the provocations and insults
which we have offered unto thee by abusing and profaning this holy
day, by our detestable presumption in compassing thee about with
deceit and lies. O how often have we rushed into the courts of thy
house without meditation, without prayer, without any desire to
worship thee with an holy worship! how often have we dissembled and
pretend to give thee glory, when we were yet living in our sins,
making thee angry with us every day, and casting thy law behind us!

O, our God, let the time past suffice for us to have entered
into thy courts thoughtless and unhumbled, self-satisfied, and
self-sufficient. Now teach us effectually to reverence thy
sanctuary: make us feel awful conceptions of the God with whom we
have to do, and of the infinite importance of the holy exercises in
which we are going to engage. Thou knowest our souls cleave to the
very dust of the ground. O send thy quickening Spirit to raise our
thoughts and desires up to thee in every part of thy holy worship.
Shield us on every side from the flesh, the world, and the devil,
that they may have no power to fill us with sinful distractions,
and make us absent in spirit while we are presenting our bodies in
thy temple.

While we confess our guilt, open thou our understanding, we
beseech thee, that we may understand all the aggravations of our
wickedness. Call back to remembrance whatever at any time has made
us appear most vile in our own eyes, that we may now feel a godly
sorrow, and be really ashamed and confounded at the sight of our
iniquity.--Accompany, we beseech thee, the reading of thy most holy
word with the power of thy own Spirit, that so the practice of thy
saints, and thy peculiar favour towards them, may stir us up to
be diligent followers of their examples: that we may receive the
strong consolation from thy promises, which in Christ Jesus are all
sure and infallibly certain, and, by hearing the gospel proclaimed,
attain to clearer views of thy great salvation. When we are
offering up our intercession to thee, give us to feel tenderness of
heart, melting pity towards all our fellow creatures in distress,
and very fervently desire that thou wouldst immediately appear
for their relief. When we ask for mercy and forgiveness, strength
and holiness of heart, may we ask with an earnestness suited to
the value of these gifts, and with a strong conviction of our
unavoidable misery, if our suit is rejected.

When we join in giving thanks unto thy name, O make all thy
goodness to pass before us. Excite in us such a lively remembrance
of the multitude of thy mercies towards us, as shall fill our souls
as it were with marrow and fatness, whilst our mouths are praising
thee with joyful lips.--From the beginning to the conclusion of
the service of thy sanctuary, by the perpetual influence of thy
free Spirit, do thou uphold us, that we may be satisfied with
the pleasures of thy house, and offer to thee a pure offering in
righteousness.

And, as thou, O Lord, hast ordained that the people should seek thy
law at the mouth of thy ministers, do thou fill them with knowledge
and sound doctrine; that they may preach not themselves, but Christ
Jesus, the Lord. Under their instructions delivered according to
thy will, may our ignorance be dispelled, our slothful hearts
quickened, our fears removed, our hope encouraged, and our souls
established in grace.

Finally, we beseech thee, O God, to incline our hearts to sanctify
this whole day. Make it our delight to employ our time in reading
thy word, in meditation and privacy, not yielding to the sinfulness
of our hearts, or the custom of the world, in speaking our own
words, in thinking our own thoughts, and finding our own pleasure
on thy holy day. And grant us grace so to use this day of rest
and of public worship in this life that we may none of us fail of
having a part in the everlasting adoration, praise, and love of thy
name in the life to come, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


A FAMILY PRAYER ON THE EVENING OF THE LORD’S DAY.

O Lord, thou art great, wonderful, and holy. Thou art exalted far
above all blessing and praise which can ever be afforded to thee
by the angels of light; yet such is thy condescending mercy, that
the door of thy house has been open this day to us, vile dust and
miserable sinners. We have been waiting on thee in the ordinances
of thy own appointment; and as we implore the comfort and help of
thy spirit before we present ourselves in thy courts, so now, as
becometh us in bounded duty, we desire to return thee our most
hearty thanks and praise, if we have found any deliverance from the
hardness, unbelief, distraction, and deceitfulness of our depraved
hearts, whilst we were offering our vows unto thee.

Not unto us, but to the influence of thy Spirit be the praise, if
we have confessed our sins this day with any self-loathing, and
being melted into contrition for our offences; if the forbearance
thou hast shown towards us, and thy tender pity in sparing us
though so richly deserving damnation, have been sensible to our
hearts, whilst we were accusing ourselves before thee. We praise
thee if we have sanctified this day, and our holy services in it,
to the honour of our Lord Jesus Christ, by looking only to the
virtue of his atonement for the remission of our sins. We bless
thee if we have found thy word sweet unto us, and the increasing
discovery of thy love delightful to our hearts; if we have been
filled with faith, and experience in our hearts the Spirit of
Grace, of prayer and supplication; so that instead of saying, When
will the Sabbath be gone, that we may buy and sell and get gain?
we have found the spiritual provisions of thy house a feast indeed
to our souls. We thank thee if thy word preached hath searched us,
making any hidden corruption; if it has been for our edification,
exhortation, and comfort in Christ Jesus. We thank thee, if it has
been a pleasant and joyful thing to us to be thankful, to speak
good of thy name, and to declare thy goodness towards the children
of men.

Lord, increase and stir up within us evermore devote affections
when we call upon thee: and in whatsoever we have displeased thee
this day, O do thou pardon us. Overlook what has been wanting,
forgive what has been amiss, though we are too blind ourselves to
perceive it. There is iniquity in our most holy offering. Purge
away, we beseech thee, the defilement of them in the fountain
opened for sin and for uncleanness. Accept our devotions at the
hands of our faithful and merciful High-priest, and may our
sacrifices be perfumed with the sweet incense of his merits.

For his sake fulfil all the requests we have this day made known
unto thee. O give us strength and power to live more according
to thy will, in all righteousness and holiness. Let the benefit
and success of our public worship be manifested in our whole
deportment; and the influence of the good impressions made upon us
in thy house, appear in our sincere love both to God and man, in
our abhoring all that is evil, and cleaving to that which is good.
Let every heavenly and Christian temper we have this day requested
shine in our conversation, and our lives be a transcript of the
graces we ask in our prayers. May we return again to our respective
employments armed with the whole armour of God, and determined
in nothing wilfully to offend thee. May thy praise and love, thy
power and glory, and the mightiness of thy kingdom, be much in our
thoughts, till at length we are brought to that everlasting sabbath
where we shall no more need the use of these means; no more behold
thee our God at a distance, and through ordinances darkly, but see
thee face to face, and know thee even as we are known.

We desire now particularly to recommend to thy mercy all who are
united to us by the ties of kindred or special friendship. Let none
of them slightly estimate this holy day, or blindly think it enough
to be merely present at the assemblies of thy people. May they ever
worship thee in spirit and truth, and esteem this day their delight.

We beg thy mercy upon all those nations which yet sit in darkness
and the shadow of death, that the Sun of Righteousness may arise
upon them to guide their feet into the way of peace. O hasten the
time, when all thou hast promised concerning the church in the last
days shall be accomplished; bring in the fulness of the Gentiles,
and let all Israel be saved. Revive and cause to flourish in all
places upon earth pure and undefiled religion. Let the power of
godliness prevail, and daily obtain victory over the formality and
hypocrisy of mere nominal Christians.

Particularly we recommend to thy protection and tenderest care, the
kingdom in which we dwell. We entreat thee to direct, sanctify, and
govern the heart of our Sovereign Lord, the King. Prosper all his
counsels for the good of his subjects. May he live dear to thee,
beloved of his people, and receive at thy hands, after death,
a crown of glory. Bless the Royal Family, and all that are in
authority over us.

Take us this night, O our God, under thy protection. Watch over
us whilst we sleep; if we wake in the night season, may our
meditation of thee be sweet and our souls be glad in the Lord. If
we are spared to see the light of the returning day, may we rise
from our beds to give all diligence to walk before thee to all
well-pleasing.--And whether we wake or sleep, live or die, may we
be the Lord’s. To him, with thee, O Father, and the Holy Ghost,
be ascribed, as most due, everlasting praise, might, majesty, and
dominion.


A PRAYER TO BE USED WHEN ANY MEMBER OF THE FAMILY IS SICK.

  Either entire as a Morning or evening Prayer for the Family or
  occasionally with some of the Family, or in part, paragraphs,
  selected from it being added to the usual family devotions.

O thou infinitely great and glorious God, thou killest and makest
alive. Thou woundest and thy hands make whole. Thou bringest down
to the grave, and bringest back again. Thou dost according to thy
will in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the
earth; and none can stay thine hand or say unto thee, What dost
thou? yet righteous art thou in all thy ways, and holy in all thy
works. Even when thou afflictest, and causest trouble and heaviness
to fall upon us, it is that we may learn righteousness from thy
judgments, and receive profit from thy correction.

Wherefore, though thou hast not visited our house with sickness,
and art calling us to humiliation for our sins, yet we would still
speak good of thy name, and love and bless thee. We desire at this
season to remember all the past mercies with which thou hast been
pleased to bless us and our household. God forbid that our present
grief should make us unmindful of the constant benefits we have
enjoyed. How long has each of our family lain down and risen up,
gone out and come in, in health, strength, and peace? How long
has the candle of the Lord shone upon us without intermission? For
these multiplied favours, blessed, O Lord, be thy good and holy
name; since the smallest of benefits is more than we deserve, and
the sharpest affliction less.

To us, on account of transgressions, is most justly due,
indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish. Wherefore then
should living men complain, men and transgressors, for the
punishment of their sin? Shall we receive so much good at the
hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil? patiently and
contentedly receive evil also; this temper we know, O Lord, is our
bounding duty; O form it in us. And as in great compassion to us,
thou hast opened a way of relief for us under every trouble, by
directing, commanding, and encouraging us in all our afflictions to
pour out our complaints unto thee, and tell thee of all we fear and
feel; to thee, O Father of mercies, do we make our supplications at
this time. O Lord be not far from us.

In entire submission to thy most wise and holy will, we do now most
earnestly pray for that person whose sickness fills us with so much
concern. O look upon him (or her) in his low estate; suffer not we
beseech thee, his disorder to proceed, and let not his sickness be
unto death, but be for the manifestation of thy grace towards us
all. Thou knowest, Lord, his frame; lay no more upon him than thou
wilt enable him to bear with patience and quietness of mind. And
O, thou great Physician, without whom all others are of no value,
do thou direct to the most proper medecines, and bless the art of
healing to his body, and our great comfort. In thy due time restore
thy servant to health and strength again, that he may have a longer
day of grace and salvation, prove more useful, and do more good in
his generation.

In the meantime, however, thou shalt think fit to dispose of him, O
sanctify unto him this affliction; work in him deep humiliation for
his sin; bless him with repentance unto life; enable him by faith
to behold the Lamb of God, and to trust in the fountain opened in
his blood for the remission of sins, that, being justified through
faith, he may have peace with God through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Make all his bed in his sickness, and let patience have its perfect
work in his soul. Raise him up to praise thy name, to pay those
vows he makes in trouble before the assembly of thy saints, and to
walk in newness of life. But if thou dost not see fit to spare thy
servant, whom we are now remembering before thee, O prepare every
one of this family according to our several relations, for the
awful stroke. With respect to himself, if the time of his departure
draweth nigh, O let his heart be comforted by the promises in
Christ, and taste that thou art gracious unto him. May his soul be
safe and happy at the hour of death; and in the great day of the
Lord Jesus Christ may be found among those who died for him.

And help us all, who are now in health, to improve this loud and
solemn call to prepare for our own sickness and disease. Let us not
abuse our bodily strength to encourage ourselves in sinful security
and impenitence. Grant that we may always be ready, by performing
the will of our Lord, that whensoever he shall come, we may be
found of him in peace and enter into his joy; that whenever our
health is turned into sickness, and our strength into weakness, and
our ease into sharp pain, we may not be cast down or perplexed, but
feel in our souls those supports and consolations, which the world
cannot give, nor death itself take away.

Hear us, O Lord our God, in these our humble requests; forgive us
our sins; and accept our persons and our services, through Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen.


A THANKSGIVING FOR THE RECOVERY OF A SICK MEMBER.

Most gracious and holy, good and merciful God! we have heard, we
have seen, we have experienced thy love. Blessed, for ever blessed
be thy name, that instead of being known to us by the judgments our
sins have deserved, thou art manifested to us as the God willing
to forgive all our iniquities. Thou hast delivered our eyes from
tears, and our hearts from anguish. Thy servant, whom thou hast
lately afflicted, is now a monument of thy sparing mercy. Thou hast
chastised and corrected him, (_or her_) but thou hast not delivered
him over unto death. Thou hast turned our mourning into joy, and
our fears into songs of praise.

O may this thy servant have been spared in order to live hereafter
to the glory of thy name.--We beseech thee, perfect all that
concerns his recovery; and grant that this gracious interposition
may properly effect both him and every one of us in this family.
From henceforth may we all more entirely depend upon thee for the
continuance and preservation of our dearest earthly comforts: may
we consider them as thy free gifts, O Lord, and know that they
alone makest every earthly blessing be to us what it is.

And give us grace so to use and enjoy all our temporal comforts, as
those who know that the fashion of this world passeth away. Grant
we may learn, from this late affliction in our family, to live more
like persons who are soon to be separated by death, and to give all
diligence to grow rich towards God, that we may be better prepared
for a breach in our family whenever it shall come. And whensoever,
O God, thou shalt be pleased to call any of us away, though for a
season our family may thus be separated, may we all be united again
in heaven, and be for ever with the Lord and with one another.

That we may none of us fall short of so glorious an end, O give
us a clear knowledge of the excellency of our God, and a firmer
dependence upon the word of thy grace. Grant us a strong love to
the Lord Jesus Christ, and a greater resemblance of him; that each
of us in our particular station may be zealous for God, full of
mercy and justice towards men, and possess every temper whereby God
can be glorified in us.

Fill our minds with a more cheerful and lively sense of our
obligations to thee, especially for this late additional mercy:
write it, we beseech thee, on our hearts, so that no temptation
from without, or corruption from within, may make us ever act as if
we forgot it.

And now, O Lord, we again present both ourselves and family, all
we have and all we are, a lively sacrifice unto thee for all our
remaining days. Be with us when we are passing through the valley
of the shadow of death; may we then fear no evil, nor have cause to
fear any. Guard us through the gloomy passage, and bring us safe to
thine eternal kingdom and glory. We humbly ask all these blessings,
though utterly unworthy ourselves of any notice, in the name of
Jesus Christ our Lord, who ever liveth to make intercession for us.
Amen.


FOR THE DUE DISCHARGE OF DOMESTIC DUTIES.

O Lord and heavenly Father, who has commanded us concientiously to
discharge each duty we owe one to another, take away, we beseech
thee, from us all stubbornness, pride, and self-conceit; all
envy, hatred, and ill-will, which would lead us to despise thy
gracious restraints, and destroy that harmony which thou wouldest
have to reign in every family. From the least to the greatest
member of each house, give them grace to walk before thee unto all
well-pleasing.

Teach and incline servants to do their work with singleness of eye,
as unto Christ: to be ambitious of serving their masters with all
fidelity, and of preventing all just cause of anger or rebuke from
them for obstinacy, sloth, or carelessness. Grant them wisdom to
consider their station not as any hardship, much less any disgrace
to them, but as the post which thy fatherly love hath appointed
them to fill. Give them to understand, to their great peace and
strong consolation, that by doing their work from a principle
of faith and love to Christ Jesus, they may stand as high in
thy favour, and grow as rich towards God, as if their condition
entitled them to all respect from the world. And may they never
imagine they are religious and Christians altogether, any longer
than they abstain from all those frauds and deceits which they are
tempted to use for filthy lucre’s sake.

Be merciful and gracious, O God, to all heads and governors of
families. Save them from haughtiness of carriage, from passionate
reproaches, and every kindred unchristian treatment of their
inferiors and dependents. O! convince the rich that it is not
their merit, but thy providence alone that makes the difference of
station, and appoints the subordination: not that they should be
as tyrants in their houses, and imperious to their servants, but
that they should add to the comfort of those who are under them.
Enable them, therefore, carefully to avoid hurting those who labour
for them, by their forwardness and behaving towards them with such
rudeness, as they would be ashamed to shew to any equal. Imprint
upon their minds a lively remembrance that they have a master in
heaven, who is no respecter of the persons of men, before whom
both masters and servants must give a strict and solemn account of
their behaviour to each other. Inspire all who preside in families
not only with justice, but with mercy and piety towards their
servants. Like the good centurion, whose praise is in the gospel,
may they sympathize with them in all their afflictions, be glad to
alleviate their burden, when sickness and old age oppress them, and
to sweeten the bitter cup that is appointed them to drink. Give
them grace to teach their servants the fear of the Lord by their
own example, and to let their light so shine before them, that they
may be led to glorify God also, in whose hands is their breath, and
whose are all their ways.

Dispose, O Lord, the hearts of all parents to receive and obey the
commands addressed in a peculiar manner to them. Teach them always
to regard their children as immortal souls intrusted to their care,
and for whose nurture and admonition in the fear of the Lord they
are strictly answerable; and may they esteem it their greatest
pleasure, and their highest honour, to be teaching their children
the sacred truth, when they sit with them in the house, and when
they walk by the way, when they lie down, and when they rise up.
Give them to observe with hearts sensibly affected, the natural
depravity too apparent in every one of their offsprings, and to be
solicitous to bring them by early discipline and instruction to
him who alone can deliver from it. Make them vigilant to check the
first sallies of their vile affections, to furnish them with the
means of knowing God and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent, and to
habituate them from their childhood to some profitable employment
of their time, and their understanding, as they are able to bear
it. Keep all parents from setting a bad example before the eyes
of their children, and so teaching them an evil lesson against
themselves. And may they dread nothing more than the insupportable
doom of being condemned as accessaries to the damnation of their
own children by their worldliness, sensuality and neglect of their
souls. And as thou knowest that no parents are of themselves
sufficient to educate their children according to thy will, O! do
thou fill them with wisdom and discretion. Guide them continually
with thine eye, between the extremes of shewing a false indulgence
or an irksome severity to the fruit of their own bodies. Bless
altogether the relation thou hast established between them, so that
parents may have the joy of seeing their children growing up as
pleasant plants before thee, and children have reason to rise up
and call their parents blessed, and to praise God for them in time
and in eternity.

And thou, O God, so influence and form the minds of all children,
and turn their hearts towards their parents, that they may behave
towards them with all reverence, obedience and love; not stubborn
when corrected for their faults, not heedless when instructed, not
ungrateful to forget how much they are bound to administer to the
comfort of their parents and to requit them.

In an especial manner we beg of thee, O God, that we of this
family, who are now kneeling before thee may be forgiven for
Christ’s sake, all the instances of which we have been guilty, of
irreverence, unkindness, and passion one towards another. Make us
sensible of our transgressions, heartily sorry for them, and more
vigilant for the future. O give unto us, and every family, more of
thy grace and power, that we may be of one mind, who dwell together
in one house on earth; that at the last day, when we appear to
take our trial at the bar of God, we may not be accusers of each
other, for exercising any malevolence of temper, but witnesses of
the grace of our common Lord in making us dwell together in perfect
amity and Christian Love. Grant, O God, these our petitions, and
let us all perceive the accomplishment of them by the increase of
harmony, peace, and love amongst ourselves. We ask it for the sake,
and through the intercession of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Amen.


UPON THE OCCASION OF A DEATH OR FUNERAL.

May all the appointments of thy providence, O Lord, be profitable
to the souls of thy people. Visit the members of this house of
mourning with thy favour, and let them know and feel, that thou art
an all-sufficient help, in time of trouble. Knowing that we have no
continuance in this life, but pass our days, as a tale, which has
been told, may we act a wise and a worthy part, that we may find
peace to our souls, in every time of review, and have good hopes in
the prospect of the world to come.

Be as a Father to the fatherless, the protector of the widow, and
the orphan’s stay. Bless those who are intimately, and feelingly
connected, with the present dispensation of thy providence,
and according to the circumstances of their lot, grant them
consolation. As the depth and the length of their sorrows have
been, so do thou comfort them and wipe away their tears. By the
sadness of the countenance may the affections become better, and
the conduct improved, that the heart may be spiritually glad. Give
them an interest in the blessings of redeeming love, and let the
assurance of everlasting life pour joy into their afflicted souls.
Forgive, O Lord, the manifold transgressions of those who mourn,
and the multiplied sins of all thy children, and accept of us, and
thy penitent people every where, according to thy mercies in Christ
our Lord and Saviour.


FOR A SICK CHILD.

Almighty and most merciful Father, have compassion upon us
in the day of trouble, and let this child live, by whose
afflictions we are afflicted. Suffer not the hope of thy servants
to be disappointed, but if death be in the cup, sanctify the
dispensation, comfort the mourner, and receive the departing
spirit into the fellowship of the saints on high. If life shall be
prolonged, let gratitude prevail in the hearts of those, who are
nearly connected, and let all diligence be given to train up the
child, in the paths of wisdom and piety, and may every endeavour to
promote a virtuous and holy life be successful, through Christ our
Lord.


THE LORD’S PRAYER.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom
come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us day
by day our daily bread; forgive us our tresspasses, as we forgive
those who have trespassed against us; and lead us not into
temptation, but deliver us from evil; for thine is the kingdom and
the power and the glory for ever. Amen.


GRACES FOR YOUNG PERSONS.

  If said by an Individual, the Singular must be used instead of
  the Plural.


BEFORE MEAT.

The eyes of all things wait upon thee, O Lord, and thou givest them
their food in due season. Enable us to receive all thy blessings
with becoming affections of mind; and sanctify the present instance
of thy bounty through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


OR THUS:

Thy mercies, O Lord, are renewed unto us day by day, though by our
sinfulness and disobedience, we are unworthy of thy favour. But do
thou forgive our manifold transgressions, sanctify us in all our
undertakings, and bless the offered mercies, through Christ our
Lord and Saviour. Amen.


AFTER MEAT.

We thank thee, O Lord, for the continued bounty of thy providence,
and while our bodies are strengthened by their daily food, cherish
our souls by thy heavenly grace. Forgive, we beseech thee, our
numerous sins, and accept of our acknowledgments for this and every
instance of thy goodness, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

OR THUS:

We give thee praise, O Lord, for all the blessings of this life,
and for the hopes of future glory. Accept of our thanks for every
mercy we receive, and to thy name, through Christ the Lord, be
ascribed the praise, now and for ever. Amen.


[Illustration: FINIS.]




  THE

  NEW PICTORIAL

  BIBLE.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




[Illustration]

  1     _The Creation of Light._

GEN. i. 1-3.

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the
earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of
the deep: and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
And God said, let there be light: and there was light.


[Illustration]

  2      _The Division of the Waters._

GEN. i. 6, 7.

And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters,
and let it divide the waters from the waters. And God made the
firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament
from the waters which were above the firmament; and it was so.


[Illustration]

  3    _Woman formed._

GEN. ii. 22, 23, 25.

And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a
woman, and brought her unto the man. And Adam said, This is now
bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman,
because she was taken out of man. And they were both naked, the man
and his wife, and were not ashamed.


[Illustration]

  4      _Adam naming the creatures._

GEN. ii. 19, 20.

And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field,
and every fowl of the air, and brought them unto Adam, to see
what he would call them: and whatsoever Adam called every living
creature, that was the name thereof. And Adam gave names to all
cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the
field.


[Illustration]

  5        _The serpent deceiveth Eve._

GEN. iii. 4, 6.

And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die. And
when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was
pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise,
she took of the fruit thereof and did eat; and gave also unto her
husband with her, and he did eat.


[Illustration]

  6      _Adam and Eve driven from the garden._

GEN. iii. 23, 24.

Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to
till the ground from whence he was taken. So he drove out the man:
and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden cherubims and a
flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree
of life.


[Illustration]

  7      _Noah entering the ark._

GEN. vii. 7-10.

And Noah went in, and his sons, and his wife, and his sons’ wives
with him, into the ark, because of the waters of the flood. Of
clean beasts, and of beasts that are not clean, and of fowls, and
of every thing that creepeth upon the earth. There went in two and
two unto Noah into the ark, the male and the female, as God had
commanded Noah.


[Illustration]

  8      _Babel built._

GEN. xi. 4, 8.

And they said, Go to, let us build us a city, and a tower whose
top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a name, lest we be
scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth. So the Lord
scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth:
and they left off to build the city.


[Illustration]

  9      _Lot and his Daughters leave Sodom._

GEN. xix. 15, 30.

And when the morning arose, then the angels hastened Lot saying,
Arise, take thy wife and thy two daughters, which are here, lest
thou be consumed in the iniquity of the city. And Lot went up out
of Zoar, and dwelt in the mountain, and his two daughters with him;
for he feared to dwell in Zoar: and he dwelt in a cave, he and his
two daughters.


[Illustration]

  10      _Abraham offereth Isaac._

GEN. xxii. 10-12.

And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay
his son. And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven,
and said, Abraham, Abraham. And he said, Here am I. And he said,
Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him;
for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld
thy son, thine only son from me.


[Illustration]

  11      _Joseph is cast into the pit._

GEN. xxxvii. 23, 24.

And it came to pass, when Joseph was come unto his brethren, that
they stripped Joseph out of his coat, his coat of many colours,
that was on him. And they took him, and cast him into a pit; and
the pit was empty, and there was no water to it.


[Illustration]

  12      _Joseph tempted by Potaphar’s Wife._

GEN. xxxix. 7, 10, 12.

And it came to pass after these things, that his master’s wife cast
her eyes upon Joseph; and she said, Lie with me. And it came to
pass, as she spake to Joseph day by day, that he hearkened not unto
her, to lie with her, or to be with her. And she caught him by his
garment, saying, Lie with me: and he left his garment in her hand,
and fled, and got him out.


[Illustration]

  13      _The finding of Moses._

EXOD. ii. 5, 6.

And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to wash herself at the river;
and her maidens walked along by the river’s side: and when she
saw the ark among the flags, she sent her maid to fetch it. And
when she had opened it, she saw the child: and, behold, the babe
wept. And she had compassion on him, and said, This is one of the
Hebrew’s children.


[Illustration]

  14      _Moses smiteth the rock._

EXOD. xvii. 5, 6.

And the Lord said unto Moses, Go on before the people, and take
with thee of the elders of Israel; and thy rod, wherewith thou
smotest the river, take in thine hand, and go. Behold, I will stand
before thee there upon the rock in Horeb; and thou shalt smite the
rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may
drink. And Moses did so in the sight of the elders of Israel.


[Illustration]

  15      _Moses receiveth the Tables._

EXOD. xxxiv. 1, 4.

And the Lord said unto Moses, Hew thee two tables of stone like
unto the first; and I will write upon these tables the words that
were in the first tables, which thou brakest. And he hewed two
tables of stone, like unto the first: and Moses rose up early
in the morning, and went up into Mount Sinai, as the Lord had
commanded him, and took in his hand the two tables of stone.


[Illustration]

  16      _Jericho compassed._

JOSH. vi. 12, 13.

And Joshua rose early in the morning, and the priests took up the
ark of the Lord. And seven priests, bearing seven trumpets of rams’
horns before the ark of the Lord, went on continually, and blew
with the trumpets: and the armed men went before them; but the
reward came after the ark of the Lord, the priests going on, and
blowing with the trumpets.


[Illustration]

  17      _The sun and moon stand still._

JOSH. x. 12, 13.

Then spake Joshua to the Lord, in the day when the Lord delivered
up the Amorites before the children of Israel, and he said in the
sight of Israel, Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon; and thou, Moon,
in the valley of Ajalon. And the sun stood still, and the moon
stayed, until the people had avenged themselves upon their enemies.


[Illustration]

  18      _Samson’s Death._

JUDGES xvi. 29, 30.

And Samson took hold of the two middle pillars upon which the house
stood, and on which it was borne up, of the one with his right
hand, and of the other with his left. And Samson said, Let me die
with the Philistines. And he bowed himself with all his might; and
the house fell upon the lords, and upon all the people that were
within.


[Illustration]

  19      _David Killeth Goliath._

1 SAM. xvii. 49, 51.

And David put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and
slung it, and smote the Philistine in his forehead, that the stone
sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth.
Therefore David ran, and stood upon the Philistine, and took his
sword, and drew it out of the sheath thereof, and slew him, and cut
off his head therewith.


[Illustration]

  20      _Absalom caught up in the oak._

2 SAM. xviii. 9.

And Absalom rode upon a mule, and the mule went under the thick
boughs of a great oak, and his head caught hold of the oak, and he
was taken up between the heaven and the earth; and the mule that
was under him went away.


[Illustration]

  21      _Solomon’s Judgement._

1 KINGS iii. 25, 26.

And the King said, Divide the living child in two, and give half
to the one, and half to the other. Then spake the woman whose the
living child was unto the king, (for her bowels yearned upon her
son,) and she said, O my lord, give her the living child, and in no
wise slay it: but the other said, Let it be neither mine nor thine,
but divide it.


[Illustration]

  22      _Solomon’s Temple._

1 KINGS vi. 2, 3.

And the house which king Solomon built for the Lord, the length
thereof was threescore cubits, and the breadth thereof twenty
cubits, and the height thereof thirty cubits. And the porch before
the temple of the house, twenty cubits was the length thereof,
according to the breadth of the house; and ten cubits was the
breadth thereof before the house.


[Illustration]

  23      _Elijah fed by ravens._

1 KINGS xvii. 3, 4, 6.

Get thee hence, and turn thee eastward, and hide thyself by the
brook Cherith, that is before Jordan. And it shall be, that thou
shalt drink of the brook; and I have commanded the ravens to feed
thee there. And the ravens brought him bread and flesh in the
morning, and bread and flesh in the evening; and he drank of the
brook.


[Illustration]

  24       _The Assyrians Overthrown._

1 KINGS xx. 20, 21.

And they slew every one his man: and the Syrians fled, and Israel
pursued them; and Ben-hadad the king of Syria escaped on a horse
with the horsemen. And the king of Israel went out, and smote the
horses and chariots, and slew the Syrians with a great slaughter.


[Illustration]

  25      _Elijah is taken up into heaven._

2 KINGS ii. 11, 12.

And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that behold
there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted
them both assunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.
And Elisha saw it, and he cried, My father, my father! the chariot
of Israel, and the horsemen thereof.


[Illustration]

  26      _Jezebel eaten by dogs._

2 KINGS ix. 35, 36.

And they went to bury Jezebel; but they found no more of her than
the scull, and the feet, and the palms of her hands. Wherefore they
came again, and told him; and he said, This is the word of the
Lord, which he spake by his servant Elijah the Tishbite, saying, In
the portion of Jezreel shall dogs, eat the flesh of Jezebel.


[Illustration]

  27      _Belshazzar’s Feast._

DAN. v. 3-5.

The king and his princes, his wives and his concubines, drank wine,
and praised the gods of gold, and of silver, of brass, of iron, of
wood, and of stone. In the same hour came forth fingers of a man’s
hand, and wrote over against the candlestick upon the plaster of
the wall of the king’s palace; and the king saw the part of a hand
that wrote.


[Illustration]

  28      _Daniel cast into the den of lions._

DAN. vi. 21, 22, 23.

Then said Daniel unto the king, O king, live for ever. My God hath
sent his angel, and hath shut the lions’ mouths, that they have not
hurt me: forasmuch as before him innocency was found in me; and
also before thee, O king, have I done no hurt. Then was the king
exceeding glad for him, and commanded that they should take Daniel
up out of the den.


[Illustration]

  29      _Jonah is swallowed by a fish._

JONAH i. 17. ii. 10.

Now the Lord had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And
Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights. And
the Lord spake unto the fish, and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry
land.


[Illustration]

  30      _The Salutation._

LUKE i. 30, 31, 32.

And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found
favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb,
and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be
great, and shall be called the son of the Highest: and the Lord God
shall give unto him the throne of his father David.


[Illustration]

  31      _Wise men enquire after Christ._

MATT. ii. 11, 12.

And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child
with Mary his mother, and fell down and worshipped him: and when
they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts;
gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. And being warned of God in a
dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into
their own country another way.


[Illustration]

  32      _The baptism of Jesus._

LUKE iii. 21, 22.

Now when all the people were baptised, it came to pass, that Jesus
also being baptised, and praying, the heaven was opened, And the
Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape, like a dove, upon him; and
a voice came from heaven, which said, Thou art my beloved Son; in
thee I am well pleased.


[Illustration]

  33      _John Baptist Beheaded._

MATT. xiv. 6, 7, 8.

But when Herod’s birth-day was kept, the daughter of Herodias
danced before them, and pleased Herod. Whereupon he promised with
an oath to give her whatsoever she would ask. And she, being before
instructed of her mother, said, Give me John Baptist’s head in a
charger.


[Illustration]

  34      _The Good Samaritan._

LUKE x. 33, 34.

A certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was; and when
he saw him, he had compassion on him, And went to him, and bound up
his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast,
and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.


[Illustration]

  35      _Christ’s sermon on the mount._

MATT. v. 1, 2, 3, 4.

And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he
was set, his disciples came unto him: And he opened his mouth, and
taught them, saying, Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall
be comforted, &c. &c.


[Illustration]

  36      _The Tempest_

MARK iv. 37, 38, 39.

And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the
ship, so that it was now full. And he was in the hinder part of the
ship, asleep on a pillow; and they awake him, and say unto him,
Master, carest thou not that we perish? And he arose, and rebuked
the wind, and he said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind
ceased, and there was a great calm.


[Illustration]

  37      _Christ healeth a bloody issue._

LUKE viii. 47, 48.

And when the woman saw that she was not hid, she came trembling,
and, falling down before him, she declared unto him before all the
people for what cause she had touched him, and how she was healed
immediately. And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort:
thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.


[Illustration]

  38      _The prodigal son._

LUKE xv. 21, 22, 23.

And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven,
and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. But
the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put
it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And
bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat and be
merry.


[Illustration]

  39       _The Parable of Lazarus_

LUKE xvi. 20, 21, 22.

And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his
gate, full of sores. And desiring to be fed with the crumbs which
fell from the rich man’s table: moreover, the dogs came and licked
his sores. And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was
carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom.


[Illustration]

  40      _The Last Supper._

MATT. xxvi. 26, 27, 28.

And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and
brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this
is my body. And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to
them saying, Drink ye all of it: For this is my blood of the New
Testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.


[Illustration]

  41      _Jesus is accused before Pilate._

LUKE xxiii. 1, 2, 3.

And the whole multitude of them arose, and led him unto Pilate. And
they began to accuse him, saying, We found this follow perverting
the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cesar, saying that he
himself is Christ a King. And Pilate asked him, saying, Art thou
the King of the Jews? And he answered him and said, Thou sayest it.


[Illustration]

  42      _The Crucifixion._

MARK xv. 24, 25, 26, 27.

And when they had crucified him, they parted his garments, casting
lots upon them, what every man should take. And it was the third
hour, and they crucified him. And the superscription of his
accusation was written over, The King of the Jews. And with him
they crucify two thieves; the one on his right hand, and the other
on his left.


[Illustration]

  43      _The Ascension._

LUKE xxiv. 50, 51, 52.

And he led them out as far as to Bethany; and he lifted up his
hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed
them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven. And they
worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy.


[Illustration]

  44      _The Apostles speak divers languages._

ACTS ii. 2, 3, 4.

And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty
wind, and it filled all the house, where they were sitting. And
there appeared unto them cloven tongues, like as of fire, and it
sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy
Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave
them utterance.


[Illustration]

  45      _Saul called to the Apostleship._

ACTS ix. 3, 4, 5.

And as he journeyed, he came near Damascus; and suddenly there
shined round about him a light from heaven. And he fell to
the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why
persecutest thou me? And he said, Who art thou, Lord? And the Lord
said, I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest. It is hard for thee to
kick against the pricks.


[Illustration]

  46      _The Last Day._

MATT. xxv. 31, 32, 33.

When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, and all the holy
angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:
And before him shall be gathered all nations; and he shall separate
them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the
goats: And he shall put the sheep on his right hand, and the goats
on his left.




  THE HISTORY

  OF

  ABRAHAM, ISAAC, & JACOB,

  EMBELLISHED WITH CUTS;

  TO WHICH IS ADDED

  AN ACCOUNT OF JONAH’S MISSION

  TO THE

  NINEVITES.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




Sarah promised a Son.

[Illustration]

Hagar being returned to Abram’s house, soon bore a son, who was
called Ishmael. Thirteen years after, God appeared to Abraham to
renew his covenant, and instituted circumcision as a token of the
covenant, and promised him a son who should be the father of many
kings. Abraham laughed to think that Sarah, ninety years old,
should bear. A while after, as Abraham was sitting in the tent door
he saw three men coming, and as his charity suffered none to pass
without a refreshment, he ran to meet them. After they had eaten,
they asked for Sarah, when the men, (who were angels) assured him
that she would bear a son. Sarah overheard what was said, and
laughed within herself, saying, After I am waxed old, shall I have
pleasure--my Lord being old also. The angels reproved Sarah for
laughing, which she denied: they stated nothing was too hard for
the Lord. They then rose up, and Abraham with them went on their
way.


Lot entertains two Angels at Sodom.

[Illustration]

After God’s promise to Abraham, that Sarah would shortly bear him
a son, he was warned that Sodom was to be destroyed. Lot, seeing
two angels coming to Sodom, ran to meet them, and entreated them
to lodge with him. The angels at first refused, but Lot earnestly
pressed them to come in. The men of Sodom surrounded the house,
and demanded of Lot to deliver up the men, that they might satisfy
their lust with them. He resisted them with all his powers, but
still they insisted. Lot, pierced with sorrow, was on the point of
delivering them up, had not the angels put forth their hand, and
pulled him in; and having shut the door, they smote the men that
were without with blindness: yet with all this it reclaimed not
their fury; for they still sought to satisfy themselves, and they
laboured hard to find the door to effect their purpose.


Lot and his Two Daughters.

[Illustration]

The angel having warned Lot of his danger of remaining among the
Sodomites, hastened him to depart from the city with his wife and
two daughters, that they might not be consumed. They laid hold of
him by the hand, ordering him to escape, and not to look behind
him. Lot requested leave of the angels to retire to Zoar; and he
had no sooner entered Zoar, than the Lord rained fire and brimstone
on Sodom and Gomorrah from heaven. Lot’s wife, alarmed at a sudden
noise, looking back, became a pillar of salt. Lot, affrighted, went
up and dwelt in a mountain, his two daughters imagining that they
and their father were the only remains of the inhabitants of the
earth, thought it their duty not to suffer the generation of men to
perish, made their father drink wine, and did not stop to commit
incest in hopes of being mothers; and though we cannot think on
that action without horror, yet their innocence did much lessen the
guilt of it.


Abimelech afflicted by God.

[Illustration]

Abraham being obliged, soon after the overthrow of Sodom, to quit
his former abode, came to Gerar, where he was exposed to some
danger by the king of that city, on account of his wife, as he
had been by the king of Egypt. Abimelech, king of Gerar, sent and
took Sarah, who called herself Abraham’s sister, as she had done
in Egypt. But God, who was the protector of Sarah’s chastity,
threatened that prince in the night-time, telling him he was a
dead man if he offered to touch Sarah, for she was Abraham’s wife.
Abimelech was horror-struck at having nearly committed so great a
crime, and terrified by the threats of God, called all his officers
and servants together, as also Abraham, and reproved him sharply
for concealing the truth, to make him and his kingdom guilty of so
great a sin. Abraham replied, that they were both of one father but
different mothers.


Hagar and Ishmael cast out.

[Illustration]

God fulfilled his promise to Sarah, and she brought forth a son
in her old age. Abraham called him Isaac, and circumcised him the
eight day. Sarah suckled him herself, though a great princess;
and when the time of weaning Isaac was come, Abraham made a great
feast to express his joy. In the mean time, while Sarah had so
much reason to rejoice, Hagar’s son became cause of great trouble
to her. This lad, disappointed in his hopes by the birth of Isaac,
could not endure to see his father and mother delight so much in
him, and began to behave himself abusively towards him. Sarah
foresaw the fatal consequences of this hatred, and entreated
Abraham to cast out the bond-woman and her son. This request
greatly afflicted Abraham, but God advised him to do as Sarah had
said. They were forthwith cast out; but an angel appeared and spoke
comfortably to them in the wilderness, assuring her, her son would
be the father of a great nation.


Abraham offereth up Isaac.

[Illustration]

Isaac being now arrived at the age of twenty-seven, God, to try
Abraham, commands him to take his son, whom he loved, and offer him
up upon a mountain. He remembered he had received his son from God,
and his great faith stifled all the thoughts which did arise in him
about the divine promises so often repeated to him, that from the
very Isaac whom he was now about to offer, his posterity should be
multiplied as the stars of heaven. Accordingly he rises early in
the morning, and takes Isaac his son, and two servants, cleaves
the wood for the burnt-offering, and binding Isaac his son, laid
him on the altar, and stretching forth his hand, took the knife to
slay him. God, seeing constancy in the father, stops his hand by
an angel from heaven. Hereupon Abraham, seeing a ram caught in a
thicket by the horns, offered him up to God instead of his son, and
returned to his house.


The Death and Burial of Sarah.

[Illustration]

Isaac being restored to his parents by the command of him who
first bestowed him, he was the comfort of his mother in her old
age, who, being arrived at the age of one hundred and twenty-seven
years, died. Abraham having wept over her some time, considers
of providing a burying place for her. He addresses the children
of Heth, stating he was a stranger, and that he wished a burying
place to bury the dead, out of his sight, which was kindly granted,
requesting him to take choice of all their sepulchres. Abraham,
who would not be beholden to any man, entreated them to sell him a
field which had a double cave, but they wanted him to accept of it
as a free gift, but Abraham was immoveable, and forced Ephron to
tell him that the field was worth four hundred shekels of silver,
which Abraham paid down, and there he buried Sarah.


Isaac’s Marriage with Rebekah.

[Illustration]

Abraham being old, and thinking to take a wife for his son Isaac,
resolves not to allow him to marry any of the daughters of the
Canaanites; but despatches Eliezer his steward to Mesopotamia to
take a wife for his son. Being come near the city of Nahor, he
prayed that God would direct him to the person he had allotted
to be his master’s son’s wife, by this token, that the damsel he
should ask to draw water for himself and his camels, should do it
frankly. Rebekah came, and Eliezer ran to meet her, and desired
water to drink, which she readily gave him, and hasted to draw
for his camels. This faithful servant, satisfied that she was the
person, presents her with many presents, when she ran home to her
brother, who instantly ran to meet Abraham’s servant, brought him
home, and set down meat before him but would eat none till he got
an answer to his business. A favourable answer being given, he
prepared to return home.


Esau sells his Birthright to Jacob.

[Illustration]

After the happy consummating of Isaac’s marriage with Rebekah,
Abraham lived many years, till at length transported to that better
and heavenly country; having spent one hundred and seventy-five
years in the exercise of holy virtues and graces. God, after his
death, multiplied his blessings on Isaac his son. But they had been
twenty years married without having any children, when Isaac prayed
the Lord for his wife’s sake for children, and he was heard, and
Rebekah was delivered of male twins. The Divine oracle stated that
the elder should serve the younger. When these two children were
grown up, Jacob, the youngest, on a time sold lentil pottage, and
Esau, returning from hunting, extremely hungry, with greediness
desired this pottage; which Jacob perceiving, would not part with
it till he had promised to sell him his birthright in consideration
thereof, to which Esau agreed.


Isaac blesseth Jacob instead of Esau.

[Illustration]

Esau having sold Jacob his birthright, Rebekah, who had a tender
love for Jacob, ratified the right by a holy piece of craft. Isaac
being sensible of his great age, and willing to bless his children
ere he died, called Esau his eldest, whom he loved, to him, to
hunt some venison, and make savoury meat that he might bless him.
Rebekah told Jacob to fetch two kids, that she might make savoury
meat to Isaac. She then dressed Jacob in Esau’s dress and put the
skins of the kids upon his hands and smooth of his neck, that his
father might suppose him to be Esau, which had the desired effect;
for he received his father’s blessing by this deception. Scarcely
had he made an end of blessing Jacob, when Esau came in from
hunting, prepares his savoury meat, brings it to his father, and
desires him to eat that he might bless him. The holy patriarch,
perceiving the deception, trembled, and Esau cryed bitterly. Isaac,
moved with his cries, blesseth him also, but subjects him to Jacob.


Jacob’s Mystical Ladder.

[Illustration]

The anger of Esau against Jacob was too visible to be hid from
Rebekah; and the tender love she had for Jacob caused her to send
him away for a time, though grieved to let him out of her sight. To
reconcile her husband Isaac to it, she spoke of his marriage--how
grieving it would be if her son Jacob would marry any of the
daughters of the land of Canaan, as Esau had done against their
wish. Jacob was sent away, more like a fugitive than the son of
a rich person. Being overtaken by night, he was obliged to take
up his lodgings upon the earth, with no softer pillow than stone.
Here he dreamed that he saw a ladder, the top of which reached to
heaven, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon it.
He was the Lord above it, who encouraged him to proceed on his
journey, and promised that his seed should be as the dew of the
earth, as in him should all nations of the earth be blessed.


Jacob serveth for Rachel and Leah.

[Illustration]

Jacob assured by the vision of the Divine protection, went
cheerfully on his way to Haran, and meeting some shepherds near
a well, which had a great stone at the mouth thereof, asked them
whither they knew one Laban, a grandchild of Nahor. They answered,
yes; and that Rachel his daughter was coming thither with his
sheep. Jacob no sooner saw her, then he went and rolled the stone
from the mouth of the well, watered his sheep, kissed her, and
made himself known to her. She ran with the tidings to her father,
who came forth, kissed him, and brought him to his house. Jacob
told him of his brother’s fury, stating that he wished to serve
him; to which Laban agreed, that Jacob should serve him seven
years for Rachel, which term he finished; but Leah was falsely put
into Jacob’s bed, which displeased Jacob; but Laban appeased him
by promising him Rachel at the end of other seven, which he also
completed.


Jacob’s return to his birth-place.

[Illustration]

The blessings that God so plentifully showered down upon Jacob
excited Laban’s envy, so that he perceived it prudent to leave
Mesopotamia. For this purpose he calls his two wives, and tells
them of his design, which they approving of, he went off privately,
taking family and possessions. Laban, informed of their sudden
departure, and missing some of his idols, pursues them seven days.
As soon as he overtook them, he reproached Jacob for stealing his
daughters; and however right it might be to return to his country;
it was very unjust to steal the idols. Jacob declared his ignorance
of any such thing, whereupon Laban examined his whole effects, and
at last enters Rachel’s tent; but before his coming she hid them in
the camel’s furniture, and sat upon them; and desired her father
not to take it ill that she did not rise, as she was unwell. Laban,
forced to return without them, made a covenant with Jacob, after
which they lovingly took leave of each other.


Jacob wrestleth with an Angel.

[Illustration]

Jacob having thus escaped the hands of Laban, began to think how
he might escape those of Esau, whereupon he sent messengers before
him that he might find grace in his sight. Upon their return they
declared that he was at the head of four hundred men coming to
meet Jacob, which filled him with extreme fear. Jacob, to soften
his brother’s heart, prepared great presents to him, left orders
for his wives and children to pass over the brook Jabbok by night,
while he remained on the other side. He betakes himself to prayer
for a happy meeting with his brother, when an angel appeared unto
him, and wrestled with him until day, when the angel touched the
hollow of his thigh, and caused him to halt, and gave him the new
name of Israel, with the assurance that he had nothing to fear from
men, and in particular from his brother Esau.


Jacob’s sons kill all the people of Shechem.

[Illustration]

When Jacob was returned from Mesopotamia, a city of the
Shechemites, an accident happened which caused him a great deal of
sorrow. Dinah being gone abroad to see the daughters of the land,
their king took her by force, and ravished her; but desired to get
her to wife. Jacob was grieved at his daughter’s defilement; and
his sons, dissembling their rage, requested the Shechemites to be
circumcised, that the mutual intercourse they proposed should take
place. They consented; and on the third day, when their pain was
most sensible, Simeon and Levi took their swords, and came upon
them, and slew all the males, without sparing the king himself or
his son, whose unlawful lust caused this bloodshed. The rest of
Jacob’s sons pillaged the city, and carried all the spoil along
with them, taking all their little ones and their wives captives.
Jacob was extremely troubled at this, their revenge.


AN ACCOUNT OF JONAH’S MISSION

TO THE

NINEVITES.

Jonah was the son of Amittai, a prophet of Gath-hepher in Galilee.
Some Jews would have him to be the son of the widow of Sarepta,
raised to life by Elijah, but the distance of time renders it
almost impossible; nor is it a whit more certain that he was the
son of the Shunamite restored to life by Elisha, or the young
prophet who anointed Jehu.

It is certain, that he predicted that God would restore to the
Hebrews, the cities which the Syrians had taken from them during
the reigns of Ahab, Jehoram, Jehu, and Jehoahaz, 2 Kings, xiv. 25.
He restored the coast of Israel from the entering of Hamath unto
the sea of the plain, according to the word of the Lord God of
Israel, which he spake by the hand of his servant Jonah, the son
of Amittai the prophet which was of Gath-hepher. We have also the
book of Jonah, where God ordered him to go to Nineveh and warn the
inhabitants of their approaching destruction.

Nineveh was the capital of Assyria, and built by Asshur the son
of Shem; Genesis, x. 11, “Out of that land went forth Asshur, and
builded Nineveh.” It was one of the largest cities in the world. In
Jonah’s time it was a city of three day’s journey, or would require
him three days to go through it, proclaiming its overthrow. It then
had about one hundred and twenty thousand infants in it, whom we
cannot suppose above the eighth or tenth part of its inhabitants:
one learned writer says it was sixty miles in circumference; and
another writer says it was larger than Babylon. It was surrounded
by a wall about two hundred feet high, and so thick, that three
chariots abreast might have been driven along the top: on the wall
were built one thousand five hundred towers, each two hundred feet
higher than the wall; this city was very early noted for wealth,
idolatry, and whoredom.

Fearing that the Lord might forbear punishing them if they
repented, and so seemingly tarnish his honour, Jonah shipped
himself at Joppa for Tarshish, when a storm quickly pursued the
ship wherein he was. The heathen mariners awaked him, and required
him to call on his God for deliverance. Lots being cast to discern
for whose sake the storm arose, the lot fell on Jonah, who with
shame confessed his guilt to the mariners, and desired them to
cast him into the sea, that the storm might be stayed, which with
reluctance, they were at last obliged to do; whereon the storm
immediately ceased. A large fish swallowed up Jonah, and retained
him safe in her belly for three days. There he earnestly prayed to
the Lord, at whose command the fish vomited him alive on dry land.
His orders to warn the Ninevites of their approaching destruction
were immediately renewed, and all obedient, he hasted to that
vast city, and travelled in it above a day’s journey denouncing
their ruin if they did not repent within forty days. When the
inhabitants heard this, they were greatly afflicted; a fast of
three days both for man and beast was appointed, and they cried
mightily to God for the preventing of this stroke; he heard their
prayers, and long delayed their ruin. Displeased with the divine
mercy, Jonah angrily wished to die, rather than live and see his
prediction unfulfilled. While he sat without the city, waiting for
his desired view of Nineveh’s ruin, God caused a gourd quickly to
spring up to overshadow him from the scorching heat of the sun, but
next day, a worm having bitten its root, it suddenly withered. The
scorching sun and blasting wind vehemently beating on Jonah, he
fainted and angrily wished to die, and averred to God himself that
he was right in doing so. The Lord bid him think, if he had pity on
the short-lived gourd, was there not far more reason for his and
their maker to pity the penitent inhabitants of Nineveh?

Nineveh at last was destroyed about one hundred years after
Jonah. The Medes and Persians had several times laid siege to it,
but were diverted by various accidents; but after the massacre
of the Tartars in Media, they repeated the siege, Cyaxares and
Nebuchadnezzar being the commanders: after they had lain before it
three years, the river Tigrus or Sycus, being exceedingly swollen,
washed away two and a half miles of the wall; when the waters
assuaging the besiegers rushed into the city, and murdered the
inhabitants, who lay buried in their drunkeness, occasioned by an
advantage which they had just before gained over the enemy. When
the king, whose name we suppose was Sardanapalus, heard the city
was taken, it is said, he shut up himself, family, and wealth to
the value of about twenty-five thousand millions sterling, in the
palace, and then set fire to it, and destroyed all that was in it,
and it was fifteen days before the flames were quenched.

It is hard to say what was the gourd that covered Jonah’s head at
Nineveh: Jerome says, it was a small shrub, which, in the sandy
places of Canaan, grows up in a few days to a considerable height,
and with its large leaves forms an agreeable shade. It is now
generally thought to be the _Palma Christi_, which is somewhat like
a lily, with large smooth and black spotted leaves; one kind of it
grows to the height of a fig-tree, and whose branches and trunk are
hollow as a reed; there is also the wild gourd, which creeps along
the surface of the earth, as those of cucumbers; its fruit is of
the size and form of an orange, containing a light substance, but
so excessively bitter that it has been called the gall of the earth.

I have now given you a short account of the History of Jonah,
which could be greatly enlarged if space would permit--also the
command given by God to preach at Nineveh--Jonah’s disobedience to
that command--the pursuit and arrest of him for that disobedience
by a storm, in which he was asleep--the discovery of him and
his disobedience to be the cause of the storm--the casting of
him into the sea, for the stilling of the storm--the miraculous
preservation of his life there in the belly of a fish, which
was his preservation for further services. We have also Jonah’s
praying unto God: in his prayer we have, the great distress and
danger he was in--the despair he was thereby almost reduced
to--the encouragement he took to himself in this deplorable
condition--the assurance he had of God’s favour to him--the warning
and instruction he gives to others--the praise and glory of all
given to God--his deliverance out of the belly of the fish--and
his coming safe and sound upon dry land again--his mission
renewed--and the command a second time given him to go preach at
Nineveh--his message to Nineveh faithfully delivered, by which its
speedy overthrow was threatened--the repentance, humiliatian, and
reformation of the Ninevites hereupon--God’s gracious revocation
of the sentence passed upon them, and the preventing of the ruin
threatened. We have also Jonah’s repining at God’s mercy to
Nineveh, and the fret he was in about it--the gentle reproof God
gave him for it, Jonah’s discontent at the withering of the gourd,
and justifying of himself in that discontent--God’s improving of it
for his conviction, that he ought not to be angry at the sparing of
Nineveh. Man’s badness and God’s goodness serve here for a foil to
each other, that the former may appear the more exceeding sinful,
and the latter the more exceeding gracious.

From all this we may learn, _First_, that though God may suffer his
people to fall into sin, yet he will not suffer them to lie still
in it, but will take a course effectually to show them their error,
and to bring them to themselves, and to their right mind again. We
have reason to hope that Jonah, after this, was well reconciled to
the sparing of Nineveh, and was as well pleased with it, as ever he
had been displeased.

_Second_, that God will justify himself in the methods of his grace
toward repenting returning sinners, as well as in the course his
justice takes with them that persist in their rebellion, though
there are those that murmur at the mercy of God, because they
do not understand it, (for his thoughts and ways therein are as
far above ours as heaven is above the earth) yet he will make it
evident that therein he acts like himself, and will be justified
when he speaks. See what pains he takes with Jonah, to convince him
that it was very fit that Nineveh should be spared. Jonah had said,
I do well to be angry, but he could not prove it; God says, I do
well to be merciful, and proves it; and it is a great encouragement
to poor sinners to hope that they shall find mercy with him, that
he is so ready to justify himself in showing mercy, and to triumph
in those whom he makes the monuments of it, against those who is
evil because he is good; such murmurers shall be made to understand
this doctrine, that how narrow soever their souls and their
principles are, and how willing soever they are to engross divine
grace to themselves, and those of their own way, their is one Lord
over all, that is rich in mercy to all that call on him, and in
every nation, Nineveh as well as in Israel, he that fears God, and
works righteousness, is accepted of him, and he that repents and
turns from his evil way shall find mercy with him.

Did not the fate of this prophet typify our Saviour’s being cast
into the raging sea of divine wrath; his lying a part of three days
in the grave; his glorious resurrection from the dead; and the
publication of his gospel to multitudes of perishing sinners that
followed.

We cannot close more fitly, perhaps than by extracting a few lines
from the powerful summing up by the poet Young.

      “What am I? and from whence?--I nothing know,
      But what I am: and since I am, conclude
      Something eternal: had there e’er been nought,
      Nought still had been: eternal there must be.
      But what eternal?--Why not human race?
      And Adam’s ancestors without an end?
      That’s hard to be conceiv’d. Yet grant it true,
      Whence earth and these bright orbs?--Eternal too?
      Grant matter was eternal, still these orbs
      Would want some other father;--much design
      Is seen in all their motions, all their makes:
      Design implies intelligence, and art;
      That can’t be from themselves, or man; that art
      Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow?
      Who motion, foreign to the smallest grain,
      Shot through vast masses of enormous weight?
      Who bade brute matter’s restive lump assume
      Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly?
      Has matter innate motion? then each atom,
      Asserting its indisputable right
      To dance, would form an universe of dust:
      Has matter none? Then whence these glorious forms
      And boundless flights, from shapeless, and repos’d?
      Has matter more than motion?--has it thought,
      Judgment, and genius?--is it deeply learn’d
      In mathematics? Has it fram’d such laws,
      Which but to guess a Newton made immortal?--
      If so, how each sage atom laughs at me,
      Who thinks a clod inferior to a man!
      If art to form, and counsel to conduct,
      And that with greater far than human skill,
      Resides not in each block--a Godhead reigns--
      And if a God there is, that God how great!”




  THE

  HISTORY OF MOSES;

  GIVING AN

  Account of his birth, his being found by Pharaoh’s daughter in
  the ark of bulrushes, and the miracles wrought by him for the
  deliverance of the children of Israel.

  EMBELLISHED WITH CUTS.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




The finding of Moses.

[Illustration]

Exodus ii. 1.

Moses was the son of Amram and Jochebed, of the tribe of Levi,
and was born in Egypt. In consequence of the decree of Pharaoh
for putting the male children of the Hebrews to death, his mother
seeing that he was a goodly child, hid him three months. At length
when she could no longer hide him, she made for him with her own
hands a little cradle of bulrushes, which she daubed with slime
and pitch to keep out the water, and having put the child into
it, she laid it among the flags by the edge of the river Nile.
She then left his sister at a little distance from the spot to
watch the cradle. A short time after Jochebed had left her child,
the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe herself in the river,
and when she saw the little ark, she sent her maid to fetch it.
And when she opened it, she saw the child, and behold the child
wept. And she had compassion on him, and said, “This is one of the
Hebrew’s children.” And the sister of the child, who had seen all
that had passed, came to the princess, and said to her, “Shall I
go and call thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse
the child for thee?” And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Go:” and
the maid went and called the child’s mother. And the woman took
the child and nursed it. And we read that the child grew under the
tender care of his mother, and that she took him when he was old
enough unto Pharaoh’s daughter, who brought him up as her own son.
And she called his name Moses, which, in the Egyptian tongue, means
one saved out of the water.

As the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, Moses was educated in a
magnificent and princely manner, yet Moses did not forget his own
people, or his father’s house. In his visits to his own people,
Moses saw and pitied the miseries which they had to bear from the
cruelty of King Pharaoh. He saw their sufferings, and could no
longer be happy in the court of Egypt, among the enemies of his
people and of their religion. His faith made him more proud of the
name of Israelite then he had ever been of being called the adopted
son of King Pharaoh’s daughter. Once more among his own people, he
found it very difficult to see with patience all that they had to
bear; and on one occasion we read that he saved a Hebrew from the
hand of an Egyptian who was smiting him, and slew the Egyptian.
When Pharaoh heard this thing, he sought to slay Moses. And Moses
fled from the face of Pharaoh, and dwelt in the land of Midian, and
lived several years with Jethro, who gave him one of his daughters
for his wife.


The burning Bush.

[Illustration]

Exodus iii. 1.

One day, when Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, the
angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire, out of the
midst of a bush. And Moses said, “I will now turn aside, and see
this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.” Then God called unto
him out of the midst of the bush, and said, draw not nigh hither;
put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou
standest is holy ground. And the Lord commissioned him to deliver
his people Israel. But Moses was afraid when he heard what God
commanded him to do; because he thought himself unworthy of such an
office, and unfit for it. But it pleased God to assure him, that he
would be with him, to guide and protect him.


The Plagues of Egypt.

[Illustration]

Exodus viii. 1.

Now Moses and Aaron went as the Lord commanded them, and told the
people all that the Lord had spoken unto Moses, and did wonders
before them. And Moses and Aaron went in and said to King Pharaoh,
“Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, ‘Let my people go, that they
may hold a feast unto me in the wilderness.’” And Pharaoh said,
“Who is the Lord that I should obey his voice to let Israel go? I
know not the Lord, neither will I let Israel go.” And from that day
Pharaoh made the children of Israel work harder than they had ever
done before, desiring that they might no longer have straw given
them to make their bricks of, but that they should from that time
be obliged to find their own straw, and at the same time get done
as much work as they did when they had straw given them. Then when
God saw the hardness of Pharaoh’s heart, he commanded Moses to go
to Pharaoh in the morning, when he took his walk by the river, and
to take his rod in his hand, and to smite the waters of the river
before him, which should all be turned into blood. And the fish
that were in the river died, and the river stank, and the Egyptians
could not drink of the water of the river; and there was blood
throughout all the land of Egypt. Seven days did this sad change in
the waters last; but still Pharaoh would not listen to the voice
of Moses and Aaron. Then God told Moses to stretch forth his hand
over the river, and over all the waters, and to bring frogs over
all his people: and Moses did so; and frogs came over all the land
of Egypt, as the Lord said. Then Pharaoh sent for Moses and Aaron,
and said, “Entreat the Lord, that he may take away the frogs from
me, and from my people; and I will let the people go, that they
may so sacrifice unto the Lord.” But no sooner did the Lord hear
the voice of Moses, and take away this evil from Pharaoh and his
people, than the king forgot what he had suffered, and would not
let the Israelites go. Great and dreadful were the plagues that
the Lord brought upon the land of Egypt before the King would let
the children of Israel go. At one time, he covered the whole land,
both man and beast, with the most disgusting kind of insects--at
another, he sent grievous swarms of flies to torment them--now, he
sent mighty hails, and thunderings, and rains upon the land, which
were exceeding terrible, filling the hearts of the people with
fear--then, he destroyed all the first-born of the land, both man
and beast.


The Passover.

[Illustration]

Exodus xii. 3.

On the evening before the Passover God commanded that every family
of Israel should slay a lamb, and sprinkle the door-posts before
the houses with the blood of the lamb; that so, when the angel of
the Lord came down to destroy the first-born of Egypt, he might
know the houses of Israel from those of Egypt, and pass over them,
and save those that dwelt in them from death. This lamb was to be
called the Passover, because God should pass over those houses
whose doors were sprinkled with its blood. This was the last supper
which the children of Israel were ever to eat in Egypt, even the
feast of the Passover. They kept up this feast every year, in
order that they might remember the night when the Lord smote the
Egyptians.


The passage of Israel through the Red Sea.

[Illustration]

Exodus xiv. 15.

We now see the children of Israel, delivered by the almighty power
of God from Egypt and from Pharaoh, travelling towards the land
that God had promised to their fathers. The Lord went before them
by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way, and by night
in a pillar of fire, to give them light. When they had thus got
as far as Pi-hahiroth, which borders on the Red Sea, they lifted
up their eyes, and behold the Egyptians marched after them. So
hardened was king Pharaoh’s heart, that scarcely had the Israelites
gone out of Egypt before he was sorry that he had let them go. And
he took six hundred chosen chariots, and all the chariots of Egypt
and captains over every one of them, and passed after the children
of Israel, and overtook them by the sea, beside Pi-hahiroth. Then
the children of Israel were sore afraid, and cried unto the Lord.
The Red Sea before them, the Egyptians behind, they saw no hope
of safety; and they were full of anger against Moses, for having
brought them out of Egypt. But the Lord said unto Moses, “Lift up
thy rod, and stretch out thine hand over the sea, and divide it;
and the children of Israel shall go on dry ground through the midst
of the sea.” And the angel of the Lord, which went before the camp
of Israel, removed and went behind them, and came between the camp
of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; so that the one came not
near the other all the night. And Moses stretched out his hand over
the sea, and the Lord caused the sea to go back by a strong east
wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were
divided. But that foolish and wicked man Pharaoh, still set himself
against God, and madly pursued the Israelites into the midst of the
sea. But so soon as the Israelites had passed over on dry land, and
safely reached the shore, the Lord said unto Moses, “Stretch out
thine hand over the sea, that the waters may come again upon the
Egyptians, upon their chariots, and upon their horsemen.” And Moses
stretched forth his hand over the sea, and the sea returned to his
strength when the morning appeared, and the Egyptians fled against
it; but the Lord overthrew them in the midst of the sea, and the
waters returned, and covered the chariots and the horsemen, and
all the host of Pharaoh that came into the sea after them; there
remained not so much as one of them: and Israel saw their dead
bodies upon the sea shore. Thus the Lord saved Israel that day out
of the hand of the Egyptians.


Israel fed from Heaven.

[Illustration]

Exodus xvi. 1.

We read in the Bible, that after they had crossed the Red Sea, they
came into the wilderness of Chur. While travelling onwards through
the wilderness of Sin they suffered from hunger, and murmered
against Moses and Aaron. But again God heard their cries, and sent
them bread from heaven to eat. The Lord said unto Moses, “Behold I
will rain bread from heaven for you; and the people shall go out
and gather a certain rate every day--at even ye shall eat flesh,
and in the morning ye shall be filled with bread.” And in the
morning there lay a small round thing, as small as the hoar-frost,
on the ground. And when the children of Israel saw it, they said
one to another, “It is manna.” And Moses said, “This is the bread
which the Lord hath given you to eat.”


Moses Smiting the Rock.

[Illustration]

Exodus xvii. 1.

We now find the children of Israel travelling from the wilderness
of Sin, and, according to the commandment of the Lord, pitching
their camp at Rephidim. There being no water here, we find those
stubborn and rebellious people, saying unto Moses, “Give us water
that we may drink; wherefore is this that thou hast brought us up
out of Egypt, to kill us, and our children, and our cattle, with
thirst?” The Lord had shewed them signs and mighty wonders in the
land of Egypt--he had delivered their children from the sword
of the destroying angel, when all around them was anguish and
dismay--he heard them when they cried and groaned under the lash of
the oppressor, amid the brick-kilns of Egypt, and emancipated them
from the same--he opened a passage for them in the mighty waters
at the Red Sea, when about to fall a prey to the rage and fury of
Pharaoh king of Egypt--moreover, he had given them bread to eat in
the wilderness when they hungered for the same; and was still able
to give them what they now desired. But they, instead of praying
to the Lord that he would once more condescend to look down with
compassion upon them, and grant them their request, reproached, and
murmured against Moses, the servant of the Lord. And Moses said
unto them, “Why chide ye with me? wherefore do ye tempt the Lord?”
Moses tired of their complaints and discontent, felt that he could
do nothing with the people under his care; but knew that the Lord
could either quench there thirst, or put a stop to their rage. He,
therefore, cried unto the Lord, and said, “What shall I do unto
this people? they be almost ready to stone me.” Nor did he cry in
vain, for the Lord said unto him, “Go on before the people, and
take with thee of the elders of Israel; and thy rod wherewith thou
smotest the river, take in thine hand and go. Behold, I will stand
before thee there upon the rock in Horeb, and thou shalt smite the
rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may
drink.” And Moses did so in the sight of the elders of Israel. Thus
did God open streams in the desert--he clave the hard rocks in the
wilderness, and gave them drink thereof, as it had been out of the
great depth--he brought waters out of the strong rock, so that it
gushed out like rivers: and this he did although his people had
sinned against him, and provoked the Most High in the wilderness.


The Law given from Mount Sinai.

[Illustration]

Exodus xix. 10.

Now the children of Israel encamped before Mount Sinai. Then God
desired that the people would put away all their usual employments,
and spend the next two days in preparing to appear before him. And
on the third day Moses brought forth the people out of the camp to
meet with God; and Mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke; because
the Lord descended upon it in fire, and the whole mount quaked
greatly. And when the voice of the trumpet sounded long, and waxed
louder and louder, Moses spake, and God answered him by a voice.
And the Lord called Moses up to the top of the mount. Then Moses
went up and heard God himself speak the Ten Commandments which we
have in the twentieth Chapter of Exodus.


The Israelites worshipping the golden calf.

[Illustration]

Exodus xxxii. 1.

Now Moses was forty days and forty nights in the mount with God;
and the people had began to wonder what had become of him, and to
be tired of waiting and looking for his return. Although the glory
of the Lord still rested on the mount, and the presence of the Lord
was clearly there, they pretended to think that God and Moses had
left them, and they said one to another, “Let us make us gods which
shall go before us.” And they made them a golden calf, and said,
“These be thy gods, O Israel, which brought thee out of the land
of Egypt.” And they worshipped the golden calf which they had set
up, although God had positively forbidden them to make any graven
image to worship, or the likeness of any thing in heaven above,
or in the earth beneath, or in the water under the earth. But so
evil were their hearts, so ready to wander from God, so quick to
forget his mercies, that having been left only for a few short days
to themselves, they set up a golden calf to worship. And the Lord
said unto Moses, “Go, get thee down; for thy people have corrupted
themselves: they have turned aside quickly out of the way which
I commanded them; they have made them a molten calf, and have
worshipped it: let me alone that my wrath may consume them, and I
will make of thee a great nation.” But Moses loved the people of
Israel; and he prayed earnestly for them, unto the Lord his God.
And the Lord who is abundant in mercy, graciously heard his prayer;
so as not to destroy them altogether in a moment. And Moses went
down from the mount, and as soon as he came nigh unto the camp, he
saw the calf, and the dancing; and his anger waxed hot, and he cast
the tables out of his hands, and break them beneath the mount. And
he took the calf which they had made, and burnt it in the fire,
and ground it to powder, and strewed it upon the water, and made
them drink of it. And he stood in the gate of the camp, and said,
“Who is on the Lord’s side? let him come unto me.” And all the sons
of Levi gathered themselves together unto him. Then Moses, by the
command of God, desired the sons of Levi to take their swords and
go in amongst the people, and kill them: and they did so; and there
fell of the people that day about three thousand. And to the rest
of the people Moses said, “Ye have sinned a great sin; and now will
I go up unto the Lord; peradventure I shall make an atonement for
your sin.”


Nadab and Abihu burnt by fire.

[Illustration]

Leviticus x. 1.

Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took either of them his censer,
and put fire therein, and put incense thereon, and offered strange
fire before the Lord, which he commanded them not. And there went
out fire from the Lord, and devoured them, and they died before the
Lord. Then Moses said unto Aaron, “This is it that the Lord spake,
saying, I will be sanctified in them that come nigh me, and before
all the people I will be glorified.” And Aaron held his peace. And
Moses called Mishael and Elzaphan, the sons of Uzziel, the uncle
of Aaron, and said unto them, “Carry your brethren from before the
sanctuary out of the camp.” So they carried them, as Moses had
said; And Moses said unto Aaron, and unto his sons, “Uncover not
your heads, neither rend your clothes, lest ye die.”


The Spies return from surveying Canaan.

[Illustration]

Numbers xiii. 1.

The children of Israel were thus wonderfully led by the Lord
throughout all their journeys, until they arrived safely on the
borders of the land of Canaan. There God desired Moses, to send men
to search the land of Canaan. And Moses sent twelve men, one man
from each of the tribes or families of Israel, and said unto them,
“Go, see the land what it is, and the people that dwell therein,
whether they be strong or weak, few or many; and what the land is
that they dwell in, whether it be good or bad. And be ye of good
courage, and bring of the fruit of the land.” Now the time was the
time of the first ripe grapes. So they went up and searched the
land; and they came to a brook or valley, afterward called Eshcol.
And so beautiful were the fruits they found in this fertile valley
of Eshcol, that they cut down there a bunch of grapes so large that
two men were obliged to carry it between them on a stick: they took
also of the pomegranates and the figs. After forty days spent in
searching the land, they went back to Moses and Aaron, and all the
people, and shewed them the fruit of the land; and they told them
that such were the fruits of the land of Canaan, and that it was
certainly a land flowing with milk and honey; but in other respects
these men gave a very evil account of the land itself, and a very
frightful one of the people that dwelt there, whom they called
giants; saying, “That by the side of them they seemed to themselves
as grasshoppers.” But two of the children of Israel, named Caleb
and Joshua, who were of the twelve who had been sent into the land,
declared unto all the people that what the others had told them was
not true. But the people would not listen to Caleb and Joshua, nor
believe what they said; for their hearts were exceedingly perverse
towards God. And the anger of the Lord was exceeding great against
the children of Israel; and because they had acted in this wicked
manner, God said they should not see the land which he had promised
them; no, not one of them should enter that land, excepting his
servants Caleb and Joshua; but that the rest of the people should
die in the wilderness, and that their children should wander there,
until all those who had now and so often before sinned against the
Lord had died and were buried. Then God said to this wicked people,
“Turn you, and get you into the wilderness, by the way of the Red
Sea.” Now Moses told these sayings to the people of Israel, and
they murmured greatly.


He that violated the Sabbath is stoned.

[Illustration]

Numbers xv. 32.

On one occasion some of the children of Israel found a man
gathering sticks upon the sabbath day. And they put him in ward,
because it had not been declared what should be done to him. And
the Lord said unto Moses, “The man shall be surely put to death:
all the congregation shall stone him with stones without the camp.”
And all the congregation brought him without the camp, and stoned
him with stones, and he died; as the Lord commanded Moses. And the
Lord spake unto Moses, saying, “Bid them make fringes in the border
of their garments, throughout their generations, and put upon the
fringe of the borders a ribband of blue; that they may remember,
and do all my commandments, and be holy unto their God.”


The earth swalloweth up Korah.

[Illustration]

Numbers xvi. 1.

Now Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, took men; and they rose up before
Moses, with certain of the children of Israel, two hundred and
fifty princes of the assembly. And they gathered themselves
together against Moses and Aaron, and said unto them, “Ye take
too much upon you, seeing all the congregation are holy, every
one of them, and the Lord is among them; wherefore then lift ye
up yourselves above the congregation of the Lord?” And when Moses
heard it, he fell upon his face; and he spake unto Korah, and all
his company, saying, “Even to-morrow, the Lord will shew who are
his, and who is holy; and will cause him to come near unto him.
This do; take you censers, Korah and all his company; and put fire
therein, and put incense in them before the Lord to-morrow, and
it shall be, that the man whom the Lord doth choose, he shall be
holy.” And they took every man his censer, and put fire in them,
and laid incense thereon, and stood in the door of the tabernacle
of the congregation with Moses and Aaron. And Korah gathered all
the congregation against them, and the glory of the Lord appeared
unto all the congregation. And the Lord spake unto Moses and unto
Aaron, saying, “Separate yourselves from among this congregation,
that I may consume them in a moment.” But Moses and Aaron fell upon
their faces, and entreated the Lord to spare the congregation. And
the Lord commanded Moses to speak unto them, and say, “Get you up
from about the tabernacle of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram.” So Moses
spake these words unto them, and they obeyed him, and departed
from the tabernacle of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. Then Moses said
unto them, “If these men die the common death of all men, then
the Lord hath not sent me; but if the Lord open the mouth of the
earth, and swallow them up, and all that pertaineth unto them, then
ye shall know that these men have provoked the Lord.” And it came
to pass, as he had made an end of speaking these words, that the
ground clave asunder under them; and the earth opened her mouth,
and swallowed them up, and their houses, and all the men that
appertained unto Korah. And there came out fire from the Lord and
consumed the two hundred and fifty men that offered incense. Then
the congregation murmured against Moses, saying, “Ye have killed
the people of the Lord.” And the Lord was angry with the children
of Israel, and smote them with a plague; which, however, was stayed
by the intercession of Aaron.


The Brazen Serpent.

[Illustration]

Numbers xxi. 6.

The children of Israel being obliged to take a longer journey than
they expected before they were permitted to enter the promised
land, murmured against the Lord and against Moses. Then the Lord
in his anger sent fiery serpents among the people, which bit them;
and much people of Israel died. And Moses prayed for the people.
And the Lord said unto Moses, “Make thee a fiery serpent, and set
it upon a pole; and it shall come to pass, that every one that
is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live.” And Moses made
a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it came to pass,
that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent
of brass, he lived. The children of Israel continued their journey
towards the promised land; none of them, however, who had left
the land of Egypt, save Joshua the son of Nun, and Caleb the son
of Jephunneh, were permitted to enter it, for having sinned so
often against the Lord. Even Moses the servant of the Lord, though
permitted to see it from the top of Mount Nebo, was not permitted
to enter; but died in the land of Moab, when he was an hundred and
twenty years of age. And the children of Israel wept for Moses
thirty days.


FINIS.




  THE HISTORY

  OF

  JOSEPH & HIS BRETHREN,

  EMBELLISHED WITH CUTS;

  TO WHICH IS ADDED,

  THE LIFE, JOURNEYINGS, AND DEATH

  OF THE

  APOSTLE PAUL.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




JOSEPH’S FIRST DREAM.

[Illustration]

      In Canaan lived a man of righteousness,
      Whom the great God in love was pleas’d to bless
      With twelve sweet sons, one Joseph called by name.
      Whose worthiness we’ll to the world proclaim.
      Being endued with blessings from above,
      He gained the favour of his father’s love,
      Now while his brothers hated him, behold!
      He dream’d a dream, which unto them he told;
      Saying, “As we were binding in the field
      Our sheaves of wheat, it was to me revealed
      That mine arose upright, and yours around,
      Stood making low obedience to the ground.”
      These words of his, they did anger breed;
      They say, must you reign over us indeed?
      The like of this was never known before,
      Thus for his dreams they hated him the more.


HIS SECOND DREAM.

[Illustration]

      Soon after this as Joseph sleeping
      Free from the toils and troubles of the day,
      He dreamed a second dream, and told the same
      Unto his brothers, as to them he came;
      Saying, in sleep appeared before my eyes,
      The sun, the moon, the seven stars likewise,
      All making their obedience unto me,
      With meek and humble humility.
      He told it likewise to his father dear,
      Who chid him, saying, what is this I hear?
      Must I, thy mother, and thy brothers too,
      Be all obliged to bow the knee to you,
      Low on the earth, as if you reigned and ruled:
      ’Tis very hard that aged parents should
      A meek and lowly veneration pay
      To you who ought to honour and obey.


HE IS PUT INTO A PIT.

[Illustration]

      This very paragraph will clearly show
      How they did seek young Joseph’s overthrow,
      His father sent him to the rural plain,
      Where with their flocks his brothers did remain.
      When afar off young Joseph they espied,
      Behold, here comes the dreamer now, they cried
      Let us conclude to take his life away,
      And cast him in a pit without delay,
      Then see how all his dreams will come to pass:
      But Reuben, Reuben pitied him, alas!
      And hid him in the pit, there to remain,
      Till he might safe conduct him home again.
      What mortal man is able to express,
      Poor Joseph’s grief when in the wilderness
      He lay confined? no doubt his present fears
      Caused his youthful eyes to flow with tears.


HE IS SOLD INTO EGYPT.

[Illustration]

      While in the pit young Joseph lay confined,
      They sat them down to eat, and ere they dined
      Some Ishmaelites from Egypt passed by;
      Then Judah made his brothers this reply,
      “What shall it profit to us now, I pray,
      If we should take this precious life away?”
      They all consented to the same with speed,
      For loth they were to see their brother bleed.
      Then from the lonesome pit the child they drew,
      And sold him to those trading merchants, who
      A score of silver pieces for him paid,
      And then to Egypt he was soon conveyed.
      When Reuben found him not, how did he grieve
      The rest contrive their father to deceive,
      By staining Joseph’s coat with purple blood,
      Which caused poor Joseph many a weeping flood.


TEMPTED BY POTIPHAR’S WIFE.

[Illustration]

      When Joseph to the land of Egypt came,
      One Potiphar a man of noted fame,
      Bought him with silver and preferred him straight
      Making him steward of his whole estate.
      On whom his mistress cast her wanton eyes,
      And he reproved her, and said, be wise,
      And cast, henceforth, these idle thoughts away--
      How can I do that wicked thing, I pray?
      Now finding her entreaties would not do,
      She went to seize him, but away he flew,
      Leaving his garment in her hand also:
      Now from that time she proved his mortal foe:
      She said, my lord, (when he returned at night,)
      Thy Hebrew strove with all his might,
      To mock thy lady, but was ne’er the near,
      I cried, he fled, and left his garment here.


CAST INTO THE DUNGEON.

[Illustration]

      No sooner had she made this false report
      Of Joseph’s coming in so vile a sort,
      But Potiphar immediately he flew
      Into a sad and cruel passion too,
      And cast him into prison where he lay
      Till the chief butler and the baker, they
      By Pharaoh’s strict command were sent to be
      Confined from their former liberty.
      The baker and the butler both, we find
      With dreams one night were much disturbed in mind,
      When they to Joseph did themselves apply,
      He told them what their dreams did signify;
      One he restores unto his former place,
      The other, he must die in sad disgrace;
      The butler must his former place supply,
      The baker by the laws be doomed to die,


HE IS MADE LORD OF THE LAND.

[Illustration]

      Still Joseph lay confined in prison fast,
      Until two tedious years were gone and past.
      At length Pharaoh dreamed, but none in the land
      Could his dream interpret or understand.
      Then the chief butler to the king did say,
      “I needs must own my faults this day:
      In prison lies a Hebrew servant there,
      Who will the truth of all your dreams declare:”
      Then from a prison to a palace straight,
      Joseph was brought, and Pharoah did relate
      His dreams, and did full satisfaction find,
      Which eased the grief and anguish of his mind:
      He gave such satisfaction to the king,
      That from his royal hand he drew a ring,
      And gave it Joseph, saying, “Thou shalt be
      Next to myself in royal dignity.”


His Brethren going to buy Corn.

[Illustration]

      Behold the dreams of Pharoah did fortell,
      A mighty famine, which at length befell;
      Joseph in Egypt was head ruler over all;
      But when his brothers came, and seemed to fall
      Before him, straight his dreams came in his mind
      Yet he spoke rough, and seemed most unkind:
      You’re spies said he, they answered, no,
      We are true men, my lord, pray say not so,
      Sons of one man, we twelve in number were,
      The youngest now under his father’s care
      Remains at home, the other he is not.
      He knew them, yet his anger seemed hot,
      And for three days they were in prison cast,
      Confined they lay, yet Joseph came at last,
      And laid upon them all a strict command,
      To bring their young brother out of hand.


THE CUP IN BENJAMIN’S SACK.

[Illustration]

      When they had eaten up their slender store
      Jacob he needs must send them down for more;
      But knowing that his youngest son must go,
      His eyes with melting tears did overflow.
      With presents then they did return again,
      And Joseph doth them kindly entertain.
      When he his brother Benjamin beheld,
      His bowels yearned, his heart with joy was filled;
      But here’s a grief which did them all surround,
      The nightly lord, his silver cup was found
      On Benjamin; this made them sore afraid,
      That for that crime they would be captives made:
      Then to the house of Joseph they returned,
      Judah he pleaded, till his bowels yearned,
      To be a captive in his brother’s room,
      Lest he should see his father’s threatened doom.


JOSEPH DECLARETH HIMSELF.

[Illustration]

      “My lord, hear thy servant now I pray,
      Our father, when we brought the child away
      Expressed such grief and sorrow for his sake,
      That if he stay, his aged heart will break:
      Seeing his tears, which fell like showers of rain,
      I promised then he should return again.
      Therefore, my lord, pray let him go, for I
      Am loth to live to see my father die.”
      Joseph from tears could now no longer hold:
      He said, “I am your brother whom you sold
      To Egypt, when on me your anger fell;
      And is my father yet alive and well?”
      Then on each other’s necks they wept amain.
      Their cries were heard, from tears could not refrain
      “O fetch my father hither,” Joseph cried,
      “That for the family I may now provide.”


JACOB’S JOURNEY INTO EGYPT.

[Illustration]

      The sons of Jacob Pharaoh did command,
      To take both food and waggons from the land
      Of Egypt, to fetch their father straight;
      They did, and poor old Jacob’s joy was great
      He said, still as his spirits did revive,
      It is enough, Joseph is yet alive,
      The son for whom I mourned, therefore I
      Will go and see him now before I die.
      Then on his journey still he doth proceed,
      And in the land of Goshen, there indeed
      Joseph did meet him, whom he straight did bring
      Into the royal presence of the king.
      When Jacob before king Pharaoh stood,
      His age one hundred and thirty years, a good
      Old man was he; Pharaoh gave to his race,
      The land of Goshen for a dwelling-place.


JOSEPH VISITS HIS FATHER.

[Illustration]

      When Joseph knew his pious father lay
      On his sick bed, to him he hastes away,
      Joseph he brought Manasseh and Ephraim,
      Placed them before his father’s eyes now dim,
      At sight of them, cries Jacob, “Who are these?”
      “My sons,” says Joseph, “from between my knees.”
      When near, he kissed them, and with sweet embrace
      Admires his GOD before his Joseph’s face.
      These boys of thine which were in Egypt born,
      They shall be mine, not orphans or forlorn.
      Manasseh he blest, commended to his GOD,
      Bids him to mark the steps that Abraham trod,
      Displeased was Joseph to see his elder son
      Put by, and the younger the blessing won;
      But Jacob replied, “Son, I know it well,
      For Ephraim shall unto great nations swell.”


JACOB BLESSETH HIS SONS.

[Illustration]

      Jacob he calls his first born, Reuben, near,
      Weak as the water from the fountain clear;
      Simeon and Levi, men of cruelty,
      They smote a man, and caused him so to die.
      Judah’s bright sceptre shan’t from him depart
      Till Shiloh come rejoicing every heart.
      Zebulun’s a small port where tall ships may pass,
      Issachar well resembles the couchant ass.
      Dan as a judge will do his people right,
      Gad by a troop at last will win the fight;
      Asher his bread is fat, and of a dainty sort,
      Naphtali’s a hind loosed for the hunter’s sport.
      Joseph’s a bough laden with pleasent fruit,
      Near to a well, whose branches sap recruit:
      Benjamin like a ravenous wolf doth slay,
      Devours his prey, then bears the spoil away.


JOSEPH’S LOVE TO HIS FATHER.

[Illustration]

      Filial affection’s to old Jacob good,
      When Canaan’s land lay destitute of food,
      Then Joseph kind his aged father fed,
      When thousands daily starved for want of bread;
      His love expressed with mind sedate and calm,
      Then with rich spices did his corpse embalm;
      When breathless lay upon a bed of down,
      He treats blest Jacob, father of renown;
      Falls on his clay and with a kind embrace,
      Salutes the late most venerable face
      Of Pious Jacob, now growing stiff and cold.
      It must be so when life is charged to mould,
      Plenty of tears did from his eye balls flow,
      To show mankind he did his duty know,
      That nought’s too much to pay a parent dear,
      From children that the awful GOD do fear.


JACOB’S FUNERAL.

[Illustration]

      When seventeen long years Jacob had dwelt,
      Behold, the fatal hand of death he felt:
      To Joseph he commits the special care
      Of his great funeral, and tells him where
      He would be laid, which was fulfilled at large,
      According to the tenor of his charge;
      For having yielded up his vital breath,
      He dropped into the frozen arms of death.
      Numbers of mourning coaches out of hand
      Prepared were; thus to his native land
      He was conveyed a sleeping-place to have,
      Near to the borders of his father’s grave.
      Upright he was, and just in all his ways;
      Pray now observe the number of his days,
      He was, when he dropt off this earthly stage,
      One hundred and forty-seven years of age.


THE LIFE OF ST. PAUL.

Saint Paul, though not one of the twelve, yet for his great
eminence in the ministry of the gospel, had the honour to be
styled an apostle, particularly above all the rest that were
not of the number, and hath justly the next place to St. Peter
allotted to him, both in regard they were so conversant in their
lives, and inseparable in their deaths. He was born at Tarsus, not
only of Jewish parents, but originally descended from an ancient
Jewish family of the tribe of Benjamin in Judea, where he had his
education, which was a flourishing Academy, whose scholars (as
Strabo testifies) excelled those of Alexandria, and even Athens
itself. In the schools of this city, he was brought up from his
childhood, and became an excellent proficient in all the polite
learning of the ancients, yet at the same time he was brought up
to a manual trade, as even the most learned of their Rabbins were,
for enabling them to get a livelihood if occasion required it; it
being a maxim (especially amongst the Jews,) that he who teacheth
not his son a trade, teacheth him to be a thief; for learning of
old was not made an instrument to get a maintenance by, but for
the better polishing the mind; so that the learned among the Jews
were frequently denominated (as Drusius observes,) from some one
or other handy-craft trade, as Rabbie Judah, the baker; Rabbie
Jochanan, the Shoemaker, &c.

Having at Tarsus attained to a great perfection in the liberal
arts and sciences. He was sent to Jerusalem to be instructed in
the knowledge of the laws; and for the better accomplishing him in
that study, was put under the tuition of Raban Gamaliel the son of
Simon, (the same probably that took up our Saviour in his arms.)
He was an eminent doctor of the law, one of the families of the
schools at Jerusalem, and a person of principal note and authority
in the Jewish Sanhedrim, in which that grave and prudent speech,
mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, which he made on behalf
of the apostles and their doctrine, took great effect. At the
feet of this great doctor St. Paul was brought up, as he himself
testifies; and by his instructions he soon advanced to that degree,
that he gained himself a reputation above all his fellow scholars.
Moreover he was a strict professor of the sect of the Pharisees,
which of all others amongst the Jews, was the severest and most
magisterial; and the professors thereof, generally great applauders
of themselves for their sanctity, despising and censuring all
others as reprobates, and unworthy of their society, and presuming
(as Josephus writes) to govern even princes themselves. With the
fiery genius of this sect, our apostle was too deeply infected,
which made him a most zealous persecutor of the Saints; so that
when the blood of the martyr Stephen was shed, I (saith he with
sorrow after his conversion) was standing by, consented to his
death, and kept the raiment of them that slew him. Nay, of all the
apparators, and inquisitors, employed by the Sanhedrim, to execute
their warrants; upon those upstart heretics, as they called them,
who preached against the law of Moses, and the tradition of the
fathers; he was the man that strove to be the forwardest. In this
zeal to execute his office, as he was on his way to Damascus, with
some other, of his fellow officers, breathing out vengeance and
destruction against the poor Christians, their was on a sudden a
most glorious light shot full upon him, and the rest that were with
him, so that they fell to the ground in great amazement, and at the
same time a voice from heaven was directed to him, saying, “Saul,
Saul, why persecutest thou me?” to which, amazed as he was, he
answered, Lord who art thou? the voice replying, that it was Jesus
whom he persecuted, and that it was hard for him to kick against
the pricks. He again desired further instructions; Lord, said he,
what wilt thou have me to do; upon which he was bid to rise, and
go to Damascus, and there expect what should be further revealed
to him; rising from the ground he found his sight gone. In this
plight being led to Damascus, he was there three days fasting,
and probably then he saw that celestial vision mentioned by him,
wherein he heard and saw things past utterance, and those divine
revelations, which gave him occasion to say, that the gospel he
preached, he was not taught by man, but had it revealed to him by
Jesus Christ. The three days being expired, Ananias, a devout man,
and one of the seventy disciples came to him, according to the
command he had received from our Lord, who appeared to him, to go
and enquire for one Saul of Tarsus, and having laid his hands on
him, told him his message, upon which his sight was restored to
him, and the gift of the Holy Ghost conferred on him; presently
after he was baptized, and made a member of the church, to the
great joy of the rest of the disciples, that he should become not
only a professor, but a preacher of that faith, which he so lately
was a bitter persecutor of. His stay at this time at Damascus was
not long, for being warned away by a vision from heaven, he took a
journey into Arabia, where he preached the gospel for three years,
and then returned to Damascus, where the unconverted Jews eagerly
sought his ruin, endeavouring to seize him, but he escaped through
the help of the disciples, and the rest of his friends who were
zealous for his safety.

Thus far we have made an entrance into the life and acts of this
great apostle, with which there is scarcely any thing equally
memorable in history, nor could the further prosecution thereof
have been omitted, but that all the travels of this apostle in the
pursuance of his ministry, from the time of his conversion to the
last of his being at Rome, with the most principal transactions,
and the severest accidents that happened to him therein, are
already related in the exposition of the map of the voyages of
the apostles, and more particularly those of St. Paul, in which,
for avoiding needless repetitions, the sequel of his life may not
unfitly be referred. We shall therefore make some enquiry into the
time and occasion of the several epistles wrote to the several
churches; as also unto the time and manner of his death.

When he went from Athens to Corinth, it is said he wrote his first
epistle to the Thessalonians, which he sent Silas and Timothy,
who returned during his stay, and before his departure he wrote
his second epistle to them, to excuse his not coming to them as
he promised in his first. Not long after at Ephesus, he is said
to have written his epistle to the Galatians; and before he left
Ephesus, he wrote his first epistle to the Corinthians. Moreover,
he sent from thence by Apollos and Silas to Titus, whom he left
in that island to propagate the faith, and had him made bishop
thereof, in which he gives him advice for the better execution of
his episcopal office. At Macedonia, whither he went from Ephesus,
having by Titus received an account of the church of Corinth’s
present state of affairs, he sent by him at his return, when he was
accompanied by St. Luke, his second epistle to the Corinthians; and
about the same time he wrote his first epistle to Timothy, whom he
had left at Ephesus. From Corinth he went to Macedon, whither he
sent his epistle to the Romans, by Phebe, a deaconess of the Church
of Cenchrea, not far from Corinth. Going thence to Rome, he sent
his epistle to the Phillipians by Epaphroditus, who had been sent
from them with relief, not knowing to what straits he might be
reduced by his imprisonment at Rome. In the next place, he sends
by Tychicus his epistle to the Ephesians. Not long after, (if not
about the same time) he wrote his epistle to the Colossians, and
sent it by Epaphras, his fellow-prisoner for some time at Rome.
As for his second epistle to Timothy, there is some dispute about
the time of his writing it; only it seems probable by authentic
authors, that it was written after the Philippians and Ephesians.
As for the epistle to the Hebrews, it is not known when, or from
whence written, and rather conjectured than certainly known to have
been St. Paul’s. Tertulliah judgeth it to be written by Barnabas;
but the most received opinion is, that it was St. Paul’s, but
written by him in Hebrew, and so sent to the Jews; but for the
better publishing it to the Gentiles, translated into Greek, some
say by St. Luke, and others by St. Clement, for the style of whose
epistles to the Corinthians and Ephesians is observed by St. Jerome
to come very near the style of this epistle, and to contain a purer
vein of Greek than is found in the rest of St. Paul’s epistles.

Our apostle having been now two years a prisoner at Rome, is at
length set free, and soon after departs to visit other parts of
the world, for the further divulging the gospel, but into what
particular parts is variously conjectured; some think into Greece,
and some parts of Asia, where he had not yet been; others will have
it that he went preaching, as well into the Eastern as Western
parts of the world; for in his epistle to the Corinthians it is
said, that Paul being a preacher both Eastward and Westward, taught
righteousness to the whole world, and went to the utmost bounds of
the West. That he went into Spain, may be gathered both from his
own words, as intimating so to do, and also from the testimony of
other authors, as Theodoret, who writes, that he not only went into
Spain to preach, but brought the gospel into the isles of the sea,
and particularly into our island of Britain; and more particularly
in another place, he reckons up the Gauls and the Britons amongst
those people to whom the apostles, and especially the tent-maker,
as he calls him, had divulged the Christian faith.

Farther mention of St. Paul we find none till his next and last
coming to Rome, which is said to be about the 8th and 9th years of
Nero’s reign; and he came in the fittest time to suffer martyrdom
he could have chosen; for whereas at other times, his privilege
of being a Roman citizen gained him those civilities which common
morality could not deny him, he had to do with a person with whom
the crime of being a Christian weighed down all apologies that
could be alledged; a person whom lewdness and debauchery had made
seven times more a Pagan than any custom or education could have
done. What his accusation was, cannot be certainly determined,
whether it was his being an associate with St. Peter in the fall
of Simon Magus, or his conversion of Poppæa Sabina, one of the
Emperor’s concubines, by which he was curbed in the career of his
insatiate appetite. Neither can it be resolved how long he remained
in prison, what the certain time of his suffering was, and whether
(according to the custom) he was first scourged; only Barentons
speaks of two pillars in the church of St. Mary, beyond the bridge
in Rome, to which both he and St. Peter were bound, when they were
scourged.

It is affirmed that St. Paul and St. Peter suffered upon the same
day, though different kinds of death. Others will have it that they
suffered on the same day of the year, but at a year’s distance; and
others affirm that St. Paul suffered several years after St. Peter;
but all agree that Paul, as a Roman, had the favour to be beheaded,
and not crucified. His execution was at the Aquæ Salviæ, 3 miles
from Rome; and he is said to have converted the three soldiers
that guarded him thither, who also suffered for the faith. Some of
the fathers add, that upon his death there flowed from his veins
a liquor more like milk than blood, the sight whereof (saith St.
Crysostom) converted the executioner.

He was buried about two miles from Rome, in the way called Via
Ostiensis, where Lucina, a noble Roman matron, not long after
settled a farm for the maintenance of the church. Here he lay
but indifferently entombed for several ages, till the reign of
Constantine the Great, who in the year of our Lord, 318, at the
request of Sylvester, bishop of Rome, built a very sumptuous
church, supported with a hundred stately pillars, and beautified
with a most rare and exquisite workmanship, and after all richly
gifted and endowed by the emperor himself. Yet was all this
thought too mean an honour for so great an apostle by the emperor
Valentinian, who sent an order to his Præfect Salustinus, to
take that church down, and to erect in its room one more large
and stately, which, at the instance of the Pope Leo, was richly
adorned, and endowed by the Empress Placidia, and doubtless, hath
received great additions ever since, from age to age.

Thus was brought up, became converted, and a preacher of the
gospel, and thus was put to death and buried, this great apostle
of the Gentiles, superior in learning and natural parts, and not
inferior in zeal to any of the rest of the apostles.




  THE

  LIFE AND DEATH

  OF

  JUDAS ISCARIOT,

  OR THE

  LOST AND UNDONE

  SON OF PERDITION.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE LOST

AND

UNDONE SON OF PERDITION.


It is to be observed, that the Scripture makes mention of three
Judases; the first is Judas Maccabeus; the second Judas the son of
Joseph, the reputed father of our Lord; and third, Judas Iscariot,
the son of a Tanner, living in repute at Joppa, or Japho, a
beautiful sea-port on the west of Canaan, about thirty-four miles
North west of Jerusalem, from which it was seen, as it stood on
a hill amidst a delightful plain. Here Peter restored Dorcas to
life, and received the messages of Cornelius. In the time of the
Antichristian war of the Croisades, or Crusades, Lewis of France,
and Godfrey of Boulogne, and others, repaired and adorned it; but
in these unhappy times, what was one year a beautiful city, was
oft in the next a heap of ruins. At present, and for ages past, it
hath but a bad harbour, and is remarkable for nothing but ruinous
remains of antiquity. This Judas who betrayed our Lord, was his
mother’s first child, who dreamed that the child in her womb
would prove both a thief and a murderer, and bring her and her
generation to shame and disgrace: which so terrified her, that she
was like to go distracted; but her husband strove to pacify her,
bidding her leave it to God the wise disposer of all things, who
may take it away in its infancy or endue it with more grace than
ever to be guilty of such dishonourable actions.--This somewhat
quieted her, and she was soon after delivered of a lovely male
child; but under his left breast was the following curious marks
viz. a cross, a gallows, two daggers, and several pieces of money:
this likewise terrified his mother, who concealed it from her
husband, determining, as soon as she was able, to go to a magician
and know the signification of these surprising marks. The child
being circumcised, and she purified, according to the old Jewish
custom, she dressed herself in disguise, put a veil on her face,
and taking with her a kinswoman, went to the magician’s, and being
introduced to him, she related her dream, her fears and the marks
upon her son, desiring the interpretation of the dream, and the
signification of the marks.

The magician replied, I am no interpreter of dreams, neither do I
justly know the signification of marks; and the whole of your story
appears as strange to me, as it can be amazing to you; but if you
can tell me when the child was born, I will calculate its nativity,
and see what it pretends. He then called for pen, ink, and paper,
and sitting down, calculated his nativity; and when he had finished
it, he shook his head, and his countenance waxed pale; which being
perceived by Judas’s mother, she said unto him, do not deceive
me, but tell me true, hide nothing from me, whether it be good or
evil.--Then, said the magician, to your sorrow, I have seen the
rules of the planet that reigned predominant at your son’s birth,
that he would prove a thief and a murderer, and what is worse, he
will, for lucre, betray the Lord of Life; for which act he will
afterwards despair of mercy, lay violent hands on himself and
come to a shameful end.--These words pierced the mother’s heart,
who wringing her hands, wished she had never been born, rather
than to have been the mother of such an unhappy child; and asked
the magician what she could do to prevent the bringing of shame or
disgrace on her family? He told her he knew no way of prevention,
but by laying violent hands on it, which might be now easily done
in its infancy and in a manner so as not to be discovered. To this
she replied, that she would not for ten thousand worlds commit such
an act of violence on her son; for if her husband had the least
suspicion of it, he was so fond of Judas, that he would never be
reconciled to her any more; yet for the sake of her family, she
would by some means or other prevent it without destroying it; and
then told the magician, that if she had a small boat made like a
shell, with a cover to go down close that no water might get in,
and a little vent to let in air at the top, and room in it to lie
soft and easy, she might without danger send him down the river
Jordan, and so commit him wholly to the protection of providence,
which might conduct him to some distant shore, into the hands
of some tender persons, and thereby preserve his life; and if
he afterwards commits those base actions the shame will fall on
his own head, as no one will know from whom he is descended. The
magician highly commended her for her invention, and said he would
procure such a boat for her; and she promising him a good reward
for his assistance, returned home. After she was gone, the magician
sent for one Rot, a very cunning Artist, a Joiner by trade, who
undertook to make the boat, drawing out with his pencil, the form
of it, carried it home with him, wrought upon it in private, and
having soon finished it, brought it to the magician’s house, who
paid him largely for it, and sent a servant to the house of Simon,
who told Judas’s mother, that the matter which his master and she
spoke of was now finished. She understanding him, went next morning
to the magician’s house, viewed the boat, and liked it well, saying
it was very convenient for the end intended, but seemed perplexed
how she should do it privately, and keep it from discovery, as
death was the consequence thereof. Her kinswoman begged her to
leave that to her, and all should be safe enough; for we will feign
the child sick for a day or two, in the meantime we will make some
inquiry in the city for the dead body of some poor male child which
we will buy of its parents, and have it privately brought to our
house to be buried; in the meantime we will dispatch your son to
sea, and make him believe the other child to be his, and that he
died during his absence; so having it buried, the matter can never
be brought to light.

The mother liked the contrivance, and going home with a promise Of
a great reward, and her friendship for life, she swore her servants
to secrecy, and then said she, we must act in this manner. When
your master comes home at night, I shall put on very dejected
looks, and When he asks the cause, I shall tell him that Judas
is not well, and that I am apprehensive of his death, which you
must all testify and confirm. She accordingly put this scheme into
practice at night, when her husband did all he could to comfort
her, telling her that they were young, they might, be parents of
many children: and going up stairs to see the child, the maid then
pinched its neck till it was black in the face, and thinking it
in convulsions, gave it over to death. As soon as he was gone out
in the morning, the mother and kinswoman took the child and went
to the magician’s house, in order to put the child to sea. They
put on him many warm and rich garments, with an upper coat of oil,
that no water might penetrate it; and the magician, on a piece of
parchment, wrote the following words:

  MY NAME IS JUDAS.

which his mother sewed round his neck and put him into the boat,
and shut down the cover. At parting with the child the mother was
almost distracted, wringing her hands and weeping bitterly, but
being comforted by the magician and her kinswoman she was at last
pacified, and desired to go home, as she could not bear to see the
child put into the water, so she and her kinswoman departed home.
The magician then took the boat and carried it down to his own
garden, at the foot of which ran the river Jordan, and putting it
in where a strong stream ran, it was soon carried out of sight.

The mother when she got home fainted away, but was revived by being
informed by her maid servant, that during her absence they had
almost brought the matter to a close, having found a neighbour’s
male child, who had died the day before, and was just of the same
age as Judas, for whose body they had given the parents a small
sum of money, and paid the expense of burying a coffin full of
bones, by way of a blind: and the only thing that remained was to
deceive her husband, and get this child buried under the sanction
of Judas’s body.

The father coming home at night, and finding his wife in tears,
soon guessed the dismal cause; and inquiring of the servants, they
with dissembled grief informed him, that the child died in the
morning soon after his departure. The man was much affected with
the loss of his child, and thinking to prevent his wife’s grief by
the sight of the body he had it removed to a kinsman’s house, and
in a day or two interred it from thence, supposing it to be his son
Judas.

By this time Providence had conducted Judas, alive and well, unto
the coast of Iscariot, a kingdom in Palestine, where Pheophilus the
king often used to recreate himself, in beholding the ships pass
and repass at sea. It happened that the very day that Judas was
cast on the coast, the king and his nobles came on that diversion,
and as they were standing on the top of the rock, looking into
the sea, the king espied a little boat floating upon the water,
and thinking it to be a chest of some wrecked ship, he ordered
a servant to put out a boat and fetch it; which being done, and
brought to the king, he ordered it to be broken open; when to their
great surprise, they found a lovely babe, who look’d up, and smiled
in the king’s face. Then said the king to the child, _welcome as
my own child_; and expressed much joy in being providentially sent
to preserve the babe’s life, and taking it up in his arms, said if
thou wert a child begat by me, I could not esteem or value thee
more. Then he espied about its neck the aforementioned parchment,
viz:

  MY NAME IS JUDAS.

Well, said the king, as thy name is Judas, I will now double name
thee, and then called him _Judas Iscariot_, because he found him
near the coast of that name. He was then brought to court, treated
as the king’s own child, and at a proper age educated well, and at
last became a man of learning and genius and behaved himself so
wisely, that the king made him his principal steward.

Judas being arrived at this rank, still coveted greater, and
remembering the queen one day said, that if the prince, her son
died, Judas should be her heir, he therefore set about contriving
to kill him, accordingly he professed great love and friendship
for him; and one day being walking together, Judas took occasion
to quarrel with the prince, and maliciously slew him, thinking all
would go well with him if he was dead.

      Behold the serpent, which the king
        Long nourished in his breast,
      Grown warm, strikes forth his baneful sting,
        And robb’d him of his rest.

Though none accused him of the murder, yet his conscience so stung
him, that he soon quitted the kingdom, leaving all his pomp and
finery behind him, and changing his name, took upon him the mean
employ of a servant, wandering about from place to place, until
at length he arrived at Joppa, the place of his nativity; here he
soon got a place in a nobleman’s family, where he behaved so well
as to gain the esteem of his lord and lady, and all that knew him.
One day it happened that as his lady was walking abroad big with
child, she longed for some fruit, which she saw in Judas’s father’s
garden, bidding him go and buy her some. He took the money, but
was resolved to steal the fruit; and going to the garden, broke
down the fences, which as he was doing his father came out, and
seized him for the robbery; and Judas to extricate himself from the
hand of justice murdered his father upon the spot, and immediately
escaped to Theba, a city about seventy-six leagues distance. Here
he continued four years, in which time the noise of the murder
being blown over, he returned back again, and got another place in
a nobleman’s family, where he lived sometime, till his own mother
accidentally seeing him fell in love with and married him.

About five years after they had been married, one morning in bed
Judas’s shirt bosom lay open, when she saw under his left breast
the marks he was born with; upon which she waked him in an agony,
and told him the whole story of his birth, and the part she had
acted therein. Judas heard this with wonder and astonishment, and
on his part confessed to her the many crimes he had been guilty
of; after which she desired him to depart from her, and seek mercy
of God in another country; protesting she would never be carnally
known to him any more.

Judas full of grief and remorse of conscience, left Joppa, and
wandered about like a pilgrim, till he heard of a mighty prophet,
called _Jesus of Nazareth_, in the land of Judea, who wrought
many miracles, and wonderful works; to him he went, and liking
his doctrine and seeing his miracles, he begged of our Lord to
be admitted one of his followers: Our Saviour chose him to be
one of his disciples, and gave him the charge of what money or
provision he carried about with him. There is no evidence that his
religious instructions, or his preaching the word, or miracles,
were inferior to those of his brethren: but covetousness still
reigned in his heart. Notwithstanding all this Judas could not
forget his covetousness, for when Mary Magdalene brought a box of
costly ointment, to anoint our dear Lord’s feet, at the house of
Simon the Leper, Judas was highly offended thereat, because the
value thereof was not put into his bag. But our Lord knowing his
covetous and wicked heart, sharply rebuked him; at which he was so
enraged, that he in revenge premeditated, and put into execution,
the worst action of all his life, and going to the chief priests
and elders, he said unto them, what will you give me, and I will
betray him they call Jesus into your hands? And they agreed with
him for thirty pieces of silver; or £3, 8s. 5d. English money.

      The love of money is a rock
        Which causes care and trouble,
      And he that hasteth to be rich,
        He makes his sorrows double.

      Money’s a most alluring bait,
        Conducive unto evil,
      For this base Judas sold his God,
        Himself unto the devil.

When our Lord was instituting his last supper, he said unto his
disciples, I have chosen you twelve, but one of you is a devil. And
again, Verily I say unto you, one of you this night shall betray
me, and he it is unto whomsoever I shall give a sop: then giving
a sop unto Judas, he said unto him what thou dost do quickly.
With the sop the devil entered into Judas, and he went out from
amongst them.--Judas then went to the chief priests, and received
the thirty pieces of silver; so taking with him an armed band
of men, to apprehend his master, He led them to the Garden, of
Gethsemane where Jesus was wont to retire for his devotion; he went
telling them, that whomsoever he should kiss, the same was he,
hold him fast. There our Lord beheld his adversaries coming with
burning torches and lanterns, and weapons to apprehend him; then
spake he to his disciples, and said, “_Rise let us go; behold he
is at hand that will betray me._” And while he was speaking, came
Judas the traitor, saying, Hail, Master, and kissed him. For it
is written, that it was the manner and custom of our Lord Jesus
towards his disciples, that when at any time he had sent them out,
at their return again, he would receive them with a loving kiss.
Then they laid hands on the Lord, and bound him as a thief and
a murderer, and led him away to the high Priest and Elders, who
asked him many questions; to which our Lord gave them no answer,
but stood like a lamb dumb before his shearers. And here let us
behold our Lord Jesus, how patiently and meekly he receives that
false and treacherous kiss from that unfaithful disciple, whose
feet he had vouchsafed to wash with his own hands, and whom out of
his unspeakable charity he refused not to feed with the precious
food of his blessed body. Consider likewise how meekly he suffered
himself to be taken, bound, struck, and furiously dragged away,
as if he had been a thief, or the most wicked person in the
world, void of power to help himself. Contemplate also the great
sorrow and inward affliction he had of his disciples, who fled
and left him in the hands of those ravenous wolves. And on the
other side, consider the grief of their hearts, since the cause of
their leaving him was not the perversity of their will, but the
frailty of their weak nature: for which they heartily mourn and
sigh, like poor orphans that know not what they do, or whither
to go; and their sorrow was so much the greater, as they knew in
what villanous manner their Lord and master would be treated and
abused. Nevertheless, the whole assembly, though they found nothing
worthy of death in him, one by one passed the following sentences
on him.


  JERUSALEM’S

  BLACK TRIBUNAL;

  OR THE

  BLOODY SENTENCE OF THE JEWS,

  AGAINST

  OUR BLESSED LORD AND SAVIOUR,

  JESUS CHRIST.


  CAIPHAS.

  Better one man should die, than all perish.


  JEHOSOPHAT.

  Let him be bound, and kept fast in chains.


  RAPHAR.

  Let us put him to death.


  FAREAS.

  Let us banish him, or he will destroy our country.


  DIARRHIAS.

  He is worthy of death, because he seduceth the people.


  RABINTH.

  Guilty or not, let the seducer die.


  LESSA.

  Let us banish him for ever.


  CHIERIES.

  If he be innocent he shall die, because he stirreth up the people.


  PTOLEMEUS.

  Guilty or not guilty, let us sentence him to death or punishment.


  TERAS.

  Either banish him, or send him unto Cæsar.


  LEMECH.

  Punish him with death.


  POTIPHARES.

  Let him be banished for seducing the people.

The mob also cried out to Pontius Pilate, if you let this man go,
you are not Cæsar’s friend; therefore, crucify him! crucify him!


  THE

  SENTENCE OF DEATH

  PASSED ON

  JESUS CHRIST

  BY

  PONTIUS PILATE.

I PONTIUS PILATE, Judge in Jerusalem under the most potent
Tiberius, happy and prosperous be his reign, having heard and known
the accusation of JESUS OF NAZARETH, whom the Jews brought bound,
to pronounce his sentence; seeing he, by presumptuous expressions,
called himself the SON of GOD and the KING of the JEWS, and said he
would destroy the TEMPLE of Solomon. Let him be condemned to the
cross with the two Thieves.

      Thus was the Lord of Life condemn’d,
        On Calv’ry’s mount to die,
      As Moses’ Serpent so was he
        There lifted up on high.

      ’Twas not for sins that were his own,
        He there shed forth his blood,
      But that such sinners vile as we,
        Might be brought near to God.

      Let us obey the gospel call,
        Now while it is to-day,
      Lest ere to-morrow Death should cry,
        To judgment come away.


MISERABLE AND AWFUL END OF THE TRAITOR JUDAS.

Now Judas, the Traitor, had no sooner seen his master condemned by
the Jewish council, than his conscience upbraided him; he brought
back the thirty pieces of silver, and confessed he had betrayed his
innocent master. But the Jewish rulers replied, that that was none
of their business, he might blame himself. And he threw back the
thirty pieces of silver and went out and hanged himself; but the
rope breaking, or the tree giving way, he fell and his body burst
asunder, and his bowels gushed out. Then the Jews, as they thought
the price of blood was not fit for the Treasury, they, as agents
for Judas, gave it for the Potters-field to bury strangers in.

      Tho’ Judas ’mongst the Apostles was
        And with them took his part,
      His awful end proved him to be
        A traitor in his heart.


On the Evening after our Lord’s resurrection he appeared unto ten
of the apostles, Judas being dead, and Thomas absent: he renewed
their mission, and breathed on them, as a token of his sending the
Holy Ghost. After giving them repeated proofs of his resurrection,
he just before his ascension gave them a formal commission, saying,
“_Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptising them in the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; Teaching
them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and,
lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen._”
After they had witnessed their master’s departure to the heavenly
mansions, Peter proposed, that one who had been a constant witness
of his marvellous sufferings and conduct, should be chosen to fill
the room of Judas. The disciples chose Barsabas and Matthias for
the candidates. As the office was extraordinary, and perhaps the
votes equal, the final determination, which of the two should be
the apostle, was left to the decision of God by the lot. After
prayer, the lots were cast, and it fell upon Matthias: he was
therefore numbered with the eleven apostles.

On the day of Pentecost, a feast appointed to commemorate the
giving of the law, the Holy Ghost, in the shape of cloven tongues
of fire, descended on each of them; rendered them bold and
infallible in preaching the gospel; qualified them with power, to
speak in every language, to discern men’s tempers, and to confer
the miraculous influence of speaking with tongues on others, by the
laying on of hands.

      Learn hence a lot’s a sacred thing,
        Let’s not it vanity use,
      Since God thereby has oft thought fit,
        To choose and to refuse.

      Let’s be content with what’s our lot,
        Since God to us it gave,
      Let’s pray that Christ may be the gift,
        Greater can’t sinners have.

Correspondent to the twelve patriarchs, or twelve tribes of Israel,
our Saviour, in the second or third year of his public ministry,
first appointed, and then sent forth twelve of his followers, whom
he named Apostles. These he sent out by two’s,

  SIMON PETER, and ANDREW his brother;

  JAMES the son of ZEBEDEE, and JOHN his brother;

  PHILIP, and BARTHOLOMEW;

  THOMAS, and MATTHEW;

  JAMES the son of ALPHEUS, and JUDE his brother;

  SIMON the Canaanite, and JUDAS ISCARIOT;

  MATTHIAS, succeeded Judas after the resurrection of our Lord.


  ASCENSION

  OF

  OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST.

Touching the wonderful ascension of our Lord Jesus, it behoves
thee, pious reader, to awaken thy heart, and render thyself with
more than ordinarly attention to all that is here said or done,
relating to this subject, if thou desire to feed thy soul with
heavenly comfort, and reap the spiritual unction, which plentifully
flows from the devout contemplation of so divine a subject.

On the fortieth day after the resurrection, our Lord Jesus, knowing
that his time was now come to depart from this world, and to pass
hence to his Father, taking with him the holy patriarchs, prophets,
and others, who after his resurrection were in the terrestrial
paradise, and blessing Enoch and Elias, who remained there still
alive, he came, to his apostles, who were gathered together on
Mount Sion, which was the place where he made his last supper the
night before his passion. There were likewise with the apostles at
this place, the blessed Virgin, and many other disciples; and our
Lord appearing to them said, that he would eat with them before he
departed from them, as a special token and memorial of the love
he bore them. And as they were all eating, being full of joy and
spiritual comfort at this last refection of our Lord Jesus, he said
to them, “The time is now come in which I must return again to him
that sent me: but you shall remain in the city till you are clothed
with the virtue descending from above; for within a few days you
shall be filled with the Holy Ghost, as I before promised you.
After which, you shall be dispersed throughout the whole world, to
preach my gospel, baptizing all that shall believe in me, so that
you shall be my witnesses to the utmost confines of the earth.”
He likewise reproved them for their incredulity in not believing
them who had seen him rise, that is the angels. This he chose to
do at the time he was speaking to them of preaching his gospel,
to give them to understand, that they ought to have believed the
angels, even before they saw him, much sooner than they ought to be
believed by those to whom they were to preach, who, nevertheless,
would believe them (the apostles) though they should not see him,
(Jesus Christ.) And this he did, that by knowing their fault
they might remain humble; shewing them at his departure how much
he admired that virtue, and that he recommended it to them in a
singular manner. They asked him concerning many things that were
to come to pass; but he would not resolve them, inasmuch as it was
not necessary for them to know the secrets of God, which his father
had reserved in his own power, to fulfill at his own will and
pleasure. And thus they continued discoursing and eating together,
with great comfort and satisfaction, occasioned by the presence of
their Lord; yet their comfort was mixed with some grief, by reason
of his departure from them. For they loved him so tenderly, that
they could not hear him speak of leaving them without heaviness and
sorrow.

And what can we think of his blessed Mother? May we not devoutly
imagine that, sitting near him, and hearing what he said concerning
his departure, she was moved with the tenderness of her motherly
affection; and that overcome with grief, which suddenly seized,
and oppressed her blessed soul, she inclined her head towards him,
and rested it upon his sacred breast! For, if John the Evangelist
at the last supper, took this freedom, with much more reason may
we suppose her to do the same on this doleful occasion. Hence,
then, with tears, and many sighs, she spoke to him in this manner:
“Oh my beloved son, I beseech thee not to leave me; but if thou
must depart, and return again to thy heavenly Father, take me,
thy afflicted Mother, along with thee!” But our blessed Lord
endeavoured to comfort her, and said, “Grieve not, oh beloved
parent, at my leaving you because I go to my Father; and it is
expedient that you remain here a short time longer, to confirm
in their faith, such as shall be converted, and believe in me,
and afterwards I will come again, and take you with me, to be a
partaker of my glory.” To whom again, our Lady replied, “My beloved
Son, may thy will always be fulfilled in all things, for I am
not only contented to remain here during thy pleasure, but also,
to suffer death for love of those souls, for which thou hast so
willingly vouchsafed to lay down thy life: this, however, I beseech
thee, be thou ever mindful of me.” Our Lord then again comforted
her, with the disciples, and Mary Magdalene, saying, “Let not
your hearts be troubled, nor fear ye any thing, I will not leave
you desolate; I go, but will shortly return again to you, and
will remain always with you.” At length he bid them remove from
thence, and go to Mount Olivet, because from that place he would
ascend into heaven, in the presence of them all: saying this, he
disappeared.

His holy Mother, with the rest of the company, without any delay,
hastened to the said mount, about a mile distant from Jerusalem,
as he had appointed them, where our Lord again soon appeared to
them. Behold on this day we have two different apparitions of our
Lord. Thus being all together, our Lord embraced his holy Mother,
and she again embraced him in a most tender manner, taking leave of
each other. And the disciples, Mary Magdalene, and the rest falling
down to the ground, and weeping with tenderness, kissed his blessed
feet, and he, raising them up, embraced all his apostles most
lovingly.

Let us now, pious reader, diligently consider them, and devoutly
contemplate all that is here done; and amongst the rest, let us
behold the holy Fathers, who being there present though invisible,
joyfully admire, and inwardly praise the blessed Virgin, by whom
they received so great a benefit as their salvation. They behold
with pleasing admiration, the glorious champions, and leaders of
God’s hosts, the apostles, whom our Lord Jesus had chosen from
among all others, to conquer and subdue the world, and bring it
over to the belief of his holy doctrine.

At length, when the mysteries were all fulfilled and completed, our
Lord Jesus began gradually to raise himself up before them, and
to ascend by his own virtue and power into heaven. And then the
blessed Virgin, with the rest, fell down and devoutly worshipped
him. And our Lady said, “O my beloved, I beseech thee to be mindful
of me,” and with this she burst into tears, not being able to
refrain, when she reflected on his departure, yet was she full of
inward joy, to see her blessed Son thus gloriously ascend into
heaven. His disciples also, when they beheld him ascending, said,
“Thou knowest, O Lord, that we have renounced all things for thee,
wherefore, we beseech thee not to forget us, but be ever mindful
of us, for whom we have forsaken all.” Then our Lord lifting up
his hands, with serene and pleasing aspect, crowned with glory,
victoriously ascended into heaven, but first blessing them, he
said, “Be stedfast, and fight courageously, for I shall always be
with you, even to the end of the world.”

Thus, our Lord Jesus, ascended into heaven, fulfilling that which
the prophet Micah had said long before his ascension; _And their
King shall pass before them, and the Lord at the head of them_. So
that they all followed him with unspeakable joy, and never-ending
felicity.

And Michael, the prince of God’s celestial host, going before,
carried the joyful tidings of their Lord’s ascending, at which
the whole heavenly court of celestial spirits came forth to meet
their Lord, and with all worship and reverence, they led him with
hymns and songs of jubilation, repeating with inexpressible joy,
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.

Having paid their due reverence to the Lord, and ended the joyful
canticles, which related to his glorious Ascension, the angels
began to rejoice with each other. And what tongue can express,
or mind conceive, that which passed between them at this happy
meeting? The blessed spirits began to congratulate them on their
arrival, saying: “Ye princes of God’s people, you are welcome
to our eternal habitation, and we rejoice and are glad at your
arrival: you all are gathered together, and wonderfully exalted
with our God; Alleluia. Therefore rejoice and sing to him who so
gloriously ascended into heaven, and above the heaven of heavens:
Alleluia.”

To which the Fathers again joyfully replied, “To you, princes of
God’s people, Alleluia: Our guardians and helpers, Alleluia: Joy
and peace for ever, Alleluia: Let us sing and make mirth to our
King and our Saviour, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia. Now we joyfully
enter into the house of our Lord, Alleluia: to remain for ever in
the glorious city of God, Alleluia. As sheep of our Lord’s pasture
we enter his gates, Alleluia: With hymns and canticles, Alleluia:
For the Lord of power is with us, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.”
For according to the prophet, _The Lord is ascending in shouts of
joy, and the Lord in the sound of a trumpet_.

Our Lord Jesus ascended visibly for the greater comfort of his
mother and disciples, that they might see him as far as they could.
And behold a _cloud received him out of their sight_, and in an
instant they were present in heaven! And as the blessed Virgin and
the disciples were looking still up to heaven, two angels stood
beside them in white garments, who began to comfort them, telling
them not to look longer after his body, which they saw ascend so
gloriously into heaven, for that they should not see him any more
in that form till the day of Judgment, when he should come to judge
the quick and the dead. They bid them return into the city again,
and there to expect the coming of the Holy Ghost, as he himself had
told them. His blessed Mother spoke to the angels, desiring them
to recommend her to her blessed son; who profoundly inclining to
her, promised gladly to fulfil her commands. And the apostles and
Mary Magdalene recommended themselves in the same manner. After
this, the angels departing, they went according as they had been
appointed into the city, unto Mount Sion, and waited there the
coming of the Holy Ghost.


FINIS.




  THE

  WIFE OF BEITH:

  BEING

  AN ALLEGORICAL DIALOGUE.

  CONTAINING

  NOTHING BUT WHAT IS RECORDED IN SCRIPTURE.

  [Illustration]


  GLASGOW:
  PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.




THE WIFE OF BEITH.


      In Beith once dwelt a worthy wife,
      Of whom brave Chaucer mention makes
      She lived a licentious life,
      And namely in venereal acts
      But death did come for all her cracks;
      When years were spent and days out driven.
      Then suddenly she sickness takes,
      Deceased forthwith, and went to heaven.
        But as she went upon the way,
      There followed her a certain guide,
      And kindly to her he did say,
      Where mean you, dame, for to abide?
      I know you are the wife of Beith,
      And would not then that you go wrong,
      For I’m your friend, and will be leath
      That you go through this narrow throng;
      This way is broader, go with me,
      And very pleasant is the way;
      I’ll bring you there, where you would be,
      Go with me friend, say me not nay.
        She looked on him, then did speer,
      I pray you, Sir, what is your name?
      Shew me the way how came you here?
      To tell to me it is no shame.
      Is that a favour ’bout your neck?
      And what is that upon your side?
        I knew you by your colours first,
      Is it a bag or silver sack?
      What are you then? where do you bide?
        I was a servant unto Christ,
      And Judas likewise is my name.
        Forsooth indeed you are to blame:
      Your Master did you not betray?
      And hang yourself when you had done?
      Where’er you bide I will not stay
      Go then, you knave, let me alone.
        Whatever I be, I’ll be your guide,
      Because you know not well the way.
        What would you me, where do you dwell?
      I have no will to go with thee:
      I fear it is some lower cell,
      I pray thee therefore let me be.
      I know your way it is to hell,
      For you are none of the eleven:
      Go haste you then unto your cell,
      My way is only unto heaven.
        That way is by the gates of hell,
      If you intend there for to go,
      Go, dame, I will not you compel,
      But I with you will go also,
      Where smoke and darkness did abound,
      And pitch and sulphur burned still,
      With yells and cries hills did rebound,
      The fiend himself came to the gate,
      And asked him where he had been?
      Do ye not know and have forgot,
      Seeking his wife could not be seen.
        Good dame, he said, would you be here,
      I pray you then tell me your name?
        The wife of Beith, since that you speer,
      But to come in I were to blame.
        I will not have you here good dame,
      For you were mistress of the flyting,
      If once within this gate you come,
      I will be troubled with your bitings
      Cummer, go back, and let me be,
      Here are too many of your rout,
      For women lewd like unto thee,
      I cannot turn my foot about.
        Sir, thief, I say I shall bide out,
      But gossip thou wast ne’er to me,
      For to come in, I’m not so stout,
      And of my biting thou’st be free:
      But, Lucifer, what’s that on thee,
      Hast thou no water in this place?
      Thou look’st so black, it seems to me
      Thou ne’er dost wash thy ugly face.
        If we had water for to drink,
      We should not care for washing then,
      Into these flames and filthy stink,
      We burn with fire unto the doom:
      Upbraid me then, good wife, no more,
      For first when I heard of the name,
      I knew thou hast such names in store,
      Would make the devil to think shame.
        Forsooth, Sir thief, thou art to blame,
      If I had time now for to bide
      Once you were well, but may think shame,
      That lost heaven for rebellious pride,
      Who traitor-like fell with the rest,
      Because you would not be content,
      And now of bliss are dispossest,
      Without all grace for to repent,
      Thou mad’st poor Eve for to consent
      To eat of the forbidden tree;
      (Which we poor daughters may relent
      And made us almost like to thee;)
      But God be blest who passed thee by.
      And did a Saviour provide,
      For Adam’s whole posterity,
      All those who do in him confide.
      Adieu, false fiend, I may not bide,
      With thee I may no longer stay;
      My God in death he was my guide,
      O’er hell I’ll get the victory.
        Then up the hill the poor wife went,
      Oppressed with stinking flames and fear.
      Weeping right sore with great relent,
      For to go else she wist not where:
      A narrow way with thorns and briers,
      And full of mires was her before,
      She sighed oft with sobs and tears,
      The poor wife’s heart was wonderous sore,
      Tired and torn she went on still,
      Sometimes she sat, and sometimes fell,
      Aye till she came to a high hill,
      And then she looked back to hell,
      When that she had climbed up the hill,
      Before her was a goodly plain;
      Where she did rest and weep her fill.
      Then rose she to her feet again,
      Her heart was glad the way was good,
      Up to the hill she hy’d with haste,
      The flowers were fair, where that she stood
      The fields were pleasant to her taste.
        Then she espied Jerusalem,
      On Sion’s mount where that it stood
      Shining with gold light as the sun,
      Her silly soul was then right glad;
      The ports were pearls shining bright,
      Glorious it was for to behold,
      With precious stones give such a light,
      The walls were of transparent gold.
      High were the walls, the gates were shut.
      And long she thought for to be in
      But then for fear of biding out,
      She knocked hard and made some din.
        To knock and cry she did not spare.
      Till father Adam did her hear;
      Who is’t that raps so rudely there,
      Heaven cannot well be won by weir.
        The wife of Beith that you speer,
      Hath stood these two hours at the gate.
        Go back, saith he, you must forbear,
      Here may no sinners entrance get.
        Adam, quoth she, I shall be in,
      In spite of all such churls as thee:
      Thou’rt the original of all sin,
      For eating of the forbidden tree:
      For which thou art not flyting free,
      But for thy foul offences fled.
      Adam went back and let her be;
      Looking as if his nose had bled.
        Then mother Eve did at him speer
      Who was it that made such a din?
      He said a woman would be here,
      For me, I durst not let her in.
        I’ll go, said she, and ask her will,
      Her company I would have fain;
      But aye she cried and knocked still,
      And in no ways she would refrain.
        Daughter, said Eve, you will do well,
      And come again another time
      Heaven is not won by sword or steel,
      Nor one that’s guilty of a crime.
        Mother, said she, the fault is thine,
      That knocking here so long I stand:
      Thy guilt is more than that of mine,
      If thou wilt rightly understand,
      Our misery thou didst begin,
      By thee thy husband was deceived.
        Eve went back where Noah was,
      And told him all how she was blam’d,
      Of her great sin and first trespass,
      Whereof she was so much ashamed.
        Then Noah said, I will go down,
      And will forbid her that she knock;
      Go back, he said, ye drunken lown,
      You’re none of the celestial flock.
        Noah, she said, hold thou thy piece,
      Where I drank ale, thou didst drink wine,
      Discovered was to thy disgrace,
      When thou wast full like to a swine:
      If I was drunk I learned at thee,
      For thou’rt the father and the first,
      That others taught, and likewise me,
      To drink when we as had no thirst.
        Then Noah turned back with speed,
      And told the Patriarch Abraham then,
      How that the carlin made him dread,
      And how she all his deeds did ken.
        Abraham then said, now get you gone,
      Let us no more hear of your din
      No lying wife as I suppone,
      May enter in these gates within.
        Abraham, she said, will you but spare,
      I hope you are not flyting free;
      You of yourself had such a care,
      Denied your wife and made a lie;
      O then I pray you let me be,
      For I repent of all my sin,
      Do thou but open the gates to me,
      And let me quietly come in.
        Abraham went back to Jacob then,
      And told his nephew how he sped,
      How that of her he nothing wan,
      And that he thought the carlin mad.
        Then down came Jacob throu’ the close,
      And said, go backward down to hell:
        Jacob, quoth she, I know thy voice,
      That gate pertaineth to thy sell
      Of thy old trumperies I can tell,
      With two sisters thou led’st thy life
      And the third part of these tribes twelve,
      Thou got with maid’s besides thy wife:
      And stole thy father’s bennison,
      Only by fraud thy father frae;
      Gave thou not him for venison,
      A kid, instead of baked rae.
        Jacob himself was tickled so,
      He went to Lot where he was lying,
      And to the gate he pray’d him to go,
      To staunch the carling of her crying.
        Lot says fair dame, make less ado,
      And come again another day.
        Old harlot carle and drunkard too,
      Thou with thine own two daughters lay,
      Of thine untimely seed I say,
      Proceeded never good but ill.
        Poor Lot, for shame then stole away,
      And left the wife to knock her fill.
        Meek Moses then went down at last,
      To pacify the carling then;
      Now, dame, said he, knock not so fast,
      Your knocking will not let you ben.
        Good Sir, said she I am aghast,
      When that I look you in the face;
      If that your law till now did last,
      Then surely I had ne’er got grace:
      But, Moses, Sir, now by your leave,
      Although in heaven thou be possest
      For all you saw, did not believe.
      But you in Horeb there transgres
      Wherefore by all it is confest,
      You got but once the land to see,
      And in the mount was put to rest,
      Yea burned there where, you did die.
        Then Aaron said, you whorish wife,
      Go get you gone and rap no more;
      With idols you have led your life,
      Or then you shall repent it sore.
        Good Aaron Priest, I know you well,
      The golden calf you may remember,
      Who made the people plagues to see,
      This is of you recorded ever;
      Your priesthood now is nothing worth,
      Christ is my only priest and he,
      My Lord who will not keep me forth,
      So I’ll get in, in spite of thee.
        Up started Samson at the length,
      Unto the gate apace came he,
      To drive away the wife with’s strength,
      But all in vain it would not be.
        Samson, says she, the world may see,
      Thou wast a Judge who proved unjust,
      Those gracious gifts which God gave thee,
      Thou lost them by licentious lust.
      From Dalila thy wicked wife,
      The secrets chief couldst nor refrain,
      She daily sought to take thy life,
      Thou lost thy locks and then was slain,
      Tho’ thou wast strong it was in vain,
      Haunting with harlots here and there.
      Then Samson turned back again,
      And with the wife would mell nae mair.
        Then said king David, knock no more.
      We are all troubled with your cry.
        David, quoth she, how cam’st thou there,
      Thou might’st bide out as well as I:
      Thy deeds no ways thou can’st deny,
      Is not thy sin far worse than mine,
      Who with Uriah’s wife did lie,
      And caused him to be murdered syne?
        Then Jonas said, fair dame content you,
      If you intend to come to grace,
      You must dree pennance and repent you,
      Ere you can come within this place.
        Jonas, quoth she, how stands the case?
      How came you here to be with Christ?
      How dare you look him in the face?
      Considering how you broke your tryst?
        So Jonas then he was ashamed,
      Because he was not flyting free,
      Of all his faults she had him blamed,
      He left the wife and let her be.
        Saint Thomas then, I counsel thee
      Go speak unto yon wicked wife,
      She shames us all and as for me,
      Her like I never heard in life.
        Thomas, then said, you make such strife,
      When you are out, and meikle din,
      If ye were here I’ll lay my life,
      No peace the saints will get within,
      It is your trade far to be flyting,
      Still in a fever as one raves,
      No marvel though you wives be biting,
      Your tongues are made of aspen leaves.
        Thomas, quoth she, let be your taunts,
      You play the pick-thank I perceive,
      Tho’ you be brother’d ’mong the saints,
      An unbelieving heart you have
      Thou brought’st the Lord unto the grave,
      But would’st no more with him remain,
      And wast the last of all the lave
      That did believe he rose again.
      There might no doctrine do thee good,
      No miracles make thee confide,
      Till thou beheld Christ’s wounds and blood,
      And putt’st thy hands into his side;
      Didst thou not daily with him bide,
      And see the wonders which he wrought?
      But blest are they who do confide,
      And do believe, yet saw him not;
      Thomas, she says, will ye but speer,
      If that my sister Magdelene,
      Will come to me, if she be here;
      For comforts sure you give me nane.
        He was so blythe and turned back,
      And thanked God that she was gane;
      He had no will to hear her crack,
      But told it Mary Magdalene.
        When that she heard her sister’s mocks,
      She went unto the gate with speed;
      And asked her who’s there that knocks;
      ’Tis I the wife of Beith indeed.
      She said, good mistress, you must stand
      Till you be tried by tribulation.
        Sister, quoth she, give me your hand
      Are we not both of one vocation;
      It is not through your occupation,
      That you are placed so divine,
      My faith is fixed on Christ’s passion,
      My soul shall be as safe as thine.
        Then Mary went away in haste,
      The carling made her so ashamed,
      She had no will of such a guest,
      To lose her pains and be so blamed.
        Now good Saint Paul, said Magdalene,
      For that you are a learned man,
      Go and convince this woman then,
      For I have done all that I can;
      Sure if she were in hell, I doubt
      They would not keep her long there,
      But to the gate would put her out,
      And send her back to be elsewhere.
        Then went the good apostle Paul,
      To put the wife in better tune,
      Wash off that filth that files thy soul,
      Then shalt heaven’s gates be opened soon.
        Remember, Paul, what thou hast done,
      For all the epistles thou didst compile,
      Though now thou sittest up above,
      Thou persecuted’st Christ a while.
        Woman, he said, thou art not right,
      That which I did, I did not know;
      But thou didst sin with all thy might,
      Although the preachers did thee show.
        Saint Paul, she said, it is not so
      I did not know so well as ye,
      But I will to my Saviour go,
      Who will his favour shew to me.
      You think you are of flyting free,
      Because you was rapt up above,
      But yet it was Christ’s grace to thee,
      And matchlessness of his dear love.
        Then Paul, says she, let Peter come,
      If he be lying let him rise,
      To him I will confess my sin,
      And let him quickly bring the keys,
      Too long I stand, he’ll let me in,
      For why I cannot longer tarry,
      Then shall ye all be quit of din,
      For I must speak with good saint Mary.
        Peter, said she, let Christ arise,
      And grant me mercy in my need;
      For why I ne’er deny’d him thrice,
      As thou thyself hast done indeed.
        Thou carling bold, what’s that to thee?
      I got remission for my sin;
      It cost many sad tears to me,
      Before I entered here within.
        It will not be thy meikle din
      Will cause heaven’s gates opened be,
      Thou must be purified of sin,
      And of all sins must be made free.
        Saint Peter then, no thanks to you,
      That so you were rid of your fears,
      It was Christ’s gracious look, I trow,
      That made you weep those bitter tears.
      The door of mercy is not closed,
      I may get grace as well as ye,
      It is not so as ye supposed,
      I will be in in spite of thee.
        But wicked wife, it is too late,
      Thou should’st have mourn’d on earth,
      Repentance now is out of date:
      It should have been before thy death,
      Thou mightest then have turned wrath
      To mercy then, and mercy great,
      But now the Lord is very loth,
      And all thy cries not worth a jot.
        Ah! Peter, then, what shall I do?
      He will not hear me as I hear,
      Shall I despair of mercy too?
      No, no, I’ll trust in mercy dear;
      And if I perish, here I’ll stay
      And never go from heaven bright
      I’ll ever hope and always pray,
      Until I get my Saviour’s sight.
        I think indeed you are not right,
      If you had faith you could win in;
      Importune then with all your might,
      Faith is the feet wherewith ye come.
      It is the hands will hold him fast,
      But weak faith may not presume;
      ’Twill let you sink, and be aghast
      Strongly believe, or you’re undone.
        But, good saint Peter, let me be,
      Had you such faith, did it abound?
      When you did walk upon the sea,
      Was you not like for to be drown’d,
      Had not our Saviour helped thee,
      Who came and took thee by the hand,
      So can my Lord do unto me,
      And bring me to the promised land.
      Is my faith weak? yet he is still
      The same and ever shall remain;
      His mercies last, and his good will,
      To bring me to his flock again;
      He will me help and me relieve,
      And will increase my faith also,
      Of weakly I can but believe,
      For from this place I’ll never go.
        But Peter said, how can that be,
      How durst thou look him in the face.
      Such horrid sinners like to thee,
      Can have no courage to get grace;
      Here none comes in but they that’s stout,
      And suffered have for the good cause;
      Like unto thee are keeped out,
      For thou hast broke all Moses’ laws.
        Peter, she said, I do appeal,
      From Moses, and from thee also.
      With him and you I’ll not prevail,
      But to my Saviour I will go;
      Indeed of old you were right stout;
      When you did cut off Malchus’ ear;
      But after that you went about;
      And a poor maid then did you fear.
      Wherefore, saint Peter, do forbear,
      A comforter indeed you’re not;
      Let me alone, I do not fear,
      Take home the whistle of your groat:
      Was it your own, or Paul’s good sword,
      When that your courage was so keen,
      You were right stout upon my word,
      Then would you fain at fishing been;
      For at the crowing of the cock,
      You did deny your master thrice,
      For all your stoutness turned a block,
      Now flyte no more if ye be wise.
        Yet at the last the Lord arose,
      Environed with angels bright,
      And to the wife in haste he goes,
      Desired her soon pass out of sight.
        O Lord, quoth she, cause do me right,
      But not according to my sin;
      Have you not promised day and night,
      When sinners knock to let them in.
        He said thou wrests the scriptures wrong
      The night is come thou spent the day,
      In whoredom thou hast lived long,
      And to repent thou didst delay;
      Still my commandments thou abus’dst,
      And vice committedst busily,
      Since now my mercy thou refus’dst,
      Go down to hell eternally.
      O Lord, my soul doth testify,
      That I have spent my life in vain;
      Ah! make a wand’ring sheep of me,
      And bring me to thy flock again.
        Think’st thou there is no count to crave,
      Of all these gifts in thee was planted.
      I gave thee beauty ’bove the lave,
      A pregnant wit thou never wanted.
        Master, quoth she, it must be granted,
      My sins is great give me contrition:
      The forlorn son when he repented,
      Obtained his father full remission.
      I spared my judgments many times
      And spiritual pastors did thee send;
      But thou renewd’st thy former crimes,
      Aye more and more me to offend.
        My Lord, quoth she, I do amend,
      Lamenting for my former vice
      The poor thief at the latter
      For one word went to paradise.
        The thief heard never of me teaching,
      My heavenly precepts and my laws,
      But thou was daily at my preachings,
      Both heard and saw, and yet miskaws.
        Master, quoth she, the scriptures shows,
      The Jewish woman which play’d the lown,
      Conform unto the Hebrew laws,
      Was brought to thee to be put down,
      But nevertheless thou lett’st her go,
      And made the Pharisees afraid.
        Indeed, says Christ it was right so,
      And that my bidding was obey’d,
      Woman, he said, I may not cast
      The childrens’ bread to dogs like
      Although my mercies yet do last,
      There’s mercy here but none for thee.
        But, loving Lord, may I presume
      Poor worm, that I may speak again,
      The dogs for hunger were undone,
      And of the crumbs they were right fain,
      Grant me one crumb then that did fall
      From thy best childrens’ table, Lord,
      That I may be refreshed withal,
      It will not help enough afford.
        The gates of mercy now are closed,
      And thou canst hardly enter in
      It is not so as thou supposed,
      For thou art deadly sick in sin.
        ’Tis true indeed, my Lord most meek
      My sore and sickness I do feel:
      Yet thou the lame didst truly seek,
      Who lay long at Bethseda’s pool,
      Of many that thee never sought,
        Like to the poor Samaritan,
      Whom thou unto thy fold has brought,
      Even as thou didst the widow of Nain
      Most gracious God, didst thou not bid
      All that were weary come to thee,
      Behold, I come! even overload
      With sin, have mercy upon me.
        The issues of thy soul are great,
      Thou art both leprous and unclean,
      To be with me thou art not fit,
      Go from me then, let me alone.
        Let me thy garments once but touch,
      My bloody issue shall be whole,
      It will not cost thee very much,
      To save a poor distressed soul,
      Speak thou the word, I shall be whole,
      One look of thee shall do me good,
      Save now, good Lord, my silly soul,
      Bought with thine own most precious blood
      Sweet Lord my God, say me not nay,
      For if I perish here I’ll die.
        Poor silly wretch, then speak no more,
      Thy faith, poor soul, hath saved thee;
      Enter thou in unto my glore,
      And rest thro’ all eternity.
        How soon our Saviour these words said,
      A long white robe to her was given;
      And then the angels did her lead,
      Forthwith within the gates of heaven:
      A laurel crown set on her head,
      Spangled with rubies and with gold:
      A bright white palm she always had,
      Glorious it was for to behold;
      Her face did shine like to the sun,
      Like threads of gold her hair hang down,
      Her eyes like lamps unto the moon,
      Of precious stones rich was her crown.
      Angels and saints did welcome her,
      The heavenly choir did sing, rejoice;
      King David with his harp was there:
      The silver bells gave a great noise.
      Such music and such melody
      Was never either heard or seen,
      When this poor saint was placed so high,
      And of all sins made freely clean;
      But then when thus she was possest,
      And looked back on all her fears;
      And that she was come to her rest,
      Free’d from all sins, and all her tears,
      She from her head did take the crown,
      Giving all praise to Christ on high,
      And at his feet she laid it down.
      For that the Lamb had made her free,
      Now doth she sing triumphantly,
      And shall rejoice for evermore,
      O’er death and hell victoriously
      With lasting pleasures laid in store.


CONCLUSION.

      Of WIFE OF BEITH I make an end,
      And do these lines with this conclude,
      Let none their lives in sin now spend,
      But watch and pray, be doing good,
      Despondent souls do not despair,
      Repent, and still believe in Christ,
      His mercies, which last for evermore,
      Will save the souls that in him trust.


FINIS.




  TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

  Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
  corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
  the text and consultation of external sources.

  Use of ‘Mr’ and ‘Mr.’, ‘St’ and ‘St.’ is sometimes inconsistent
  even within a Chap-book. This has not been changed.

  Several missing opening quotation marks have been inserted; many
  missing closing quotation marks have been inserted.

  Four occurrences of the French word _mele_ have been replaced
  by _mêlée_.

  Except for those changes noted below, all dialect in the text,
  all misspellings, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been
  retained.

  The Life of John Knox.
    Pg 5: ‘and licentions lives’ replaced by ‘and licentious lives’.
    Pg 12: ‘neqhew of’ replaced by ‘nephew of’.
    Pg 13: ‘I require I of your’ replaced by ‘I require of your’.
    Pg 18: ‘and Dominician’ replaced by ‘and Dominican’.
    Pg 21: ‘throughtout all’ replaced by ‘throughout all’.
    Pg 24: ‘professsor of’ replaced by ‘professor of’.

  The Life of Alexander Peden.
    Pg 20: ‘of the visons’ replaced by ‘of the visions’.
    Pg 20: ‘I tell the, woman’ replaced by ‘I tell thee, woman’.
    Pg 24: ‘was buired in’ replaced by ‘was buried in’.

  The Life of Mr Donald Cargill.
    Pg 3: ‘chapter of Ezekial’ replaced by ‘chapter of Ezekiel’.
    Pg 11: ‘are will- to quit’ replaced by ‘are willing to quit’.
    Pg 20: ‘motion buing put’ replaced by ‘motion being put’.
    Pg 23: ‘interpersed among’ replaced by ‘interspersed among’.

  The Battle of Drumclog.
    Pg 4: ‘deal of Aven’ replaced by ‘dale of Aven’.
    Pg 12: ‘born by his men’ replaced by ‘borne by his men’.
    Pg 12: ‘was born along’ replaced by ‘was borne along’.
    Pg 18: ‘the plumb of’ replaced by ‘the plume of’.
    Pg 21: ‘born upright by’ replaced by ‘borne upright by’.
    Pg 23: ‘was born off’ replaced by ‘was borne off’.

  An Elegy in Memory of Sir Robert Grierson.
    Pg 14: ‘The Caneronians’ replaced by ‘The Cameronians’.
    Pg 19: ‘to the revoluton’ replaced by ‘to the revolution’.

  A Wedding-Ring Fit for the Finger.
    Pg 6: ‘damnally sinful’ replaced by ‘damnably sinful’.
    Pg 13: ‘by her alineation’ replaced by ‘by her alienation’.
    Pg 20: ‘2. Choose not’ replaced by ‘3. Choose not’.
    Pg 21: ‘toast on the sea’ replaced by ‘tost on the sea’.

  The Pilgrim’s Progress
    Pg 1: ‘PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.’ inserted after
        ‘GLASGOW;’ (present on every other Chap-book Title page).
    Pg 3: ‘the warth to come’ replaced by ‘the wrath to come’.
    Pg 24: ‘to Christianna’ replaced by ‘to Christiana’.

  Divine Songs.
    Pg 8: ‘Great God, with’ replaced by ‘1 Great God, with’.
    Pg 15: ‘4’ replaced by ‘5’, and ‘5’ replaced by ‘4’.
    Pg 18: ‘those in pla’ replaced by ‘those in play’.
    Pg 22: ‘My God, who’ replaced by ‘1 My God, who’.

  The Plant of Renown.
    Pg 16: ‘is the deisgn’ replaced by ‘is the design’.

  Honey from the Rock of Christ.
    Pg 7: ‘dost on-Christ him’ replaced by ‘dost un-Christ him’.

  Sins and Sorrows before God.
    Pg 3: ‘in ever hour’ replaced by ‘in every hour’.
    Pg 5: ‘melts and flow in’ replaced by ‘melts and flows in’.
    Pg 23: ‘ancient petriarchs’ replaced by ‘ancient patriarchs’.

  A Token for Mourners.
    Pg 6: ‘this propossition’ replaced by ‘this proposition’.
    Pg 9: ‘borne chistisement,’ replaced by ‘borne chastisement,’.
    Pg 9: ‘which a see’ replaced by ‘which I see’.
    Pg 9: ‘It It is meet’ replaced by ‘It is meet’.
    Pg 9: ‘borne chastisment.’ replaced by ‘borne chastisement.’.
    Pg 10: ‘have done inquity’ replaced by ‘have done iniquity’.
    Pg 11: ‘is epen to hear’ replaced by ‘is open to hear’.
    Pg 13: ‘man complain, a man for’ replaced by ‘man complain, for’.
    Pg 16: ‘through nnbelief’ replaced by ‘through unbelief’.
    Pg 17: ‘that has oppointed’ replaced by ‘that has appointed’.
    Pg 23: ‘fron iniquity’ replaced by ‘from iniquity’.

  A Prayer Book for Families and Private Persons.
    Pg 5: ‘all frowardness and’ replaced by ‘all forwardness and’.
    Pg 6: ‘we shoud bless’ replaced by ‘we should bless’.
    Pg 7: ‘our dail bread’ replaced by ‘our daily bread’.
    Pg 7: ‘didst make things’ replaced by ‘didst make all things’.
    Pg 10: ‘making the angry’ replaced by ‘making thee angry’.
    Pg 13: ‘to or hearts;’ replaced by ‘to our hearts;’.
    Pg 16: ‘his geneneration’ replaced by ‘his generation’.
    Pg 20: ‘their frowardnes’ replaced by ‘their forwardness’.
    Pg 23: ‘said by’ replaced by ‘If said by’.

  The New Pictorial Bible.
    Pg 2: missing ‘1’ inserted before ‘The Creation of Light.’.
    Pg 3: missing ‘3’ inserted before ‘Woman formed.’.
    Pg 10: ‘with s right hand’ replaced by ‘with his right hand’.
    Pg 18: ‘kept, -- daughter’ replaced by ‘kept, the daughter’.
    Pg 19: ‘his diciples came’ replaced by ‘his disciples came’.
    Pg 19: ‘they hat mourn’ replaced by ‘they that mourn’.
    Pg 22: missing ‘41’ inserted before ‘Jesus is accused’.

  Lives of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
    Pg 5: ‘there innocence did’ replaced by ‘their innocence did’.
    Pg 8: ‘on the alter’ replaced by ‘on the altar’.
    Pg 11: ‘on a time sod’ replaced by ‘on a time sold’.
    Pg 11: ‘to which Esa’ replaced by ‘to which Esau agreed.’.
    Pg 16: ‘Upon there return’ replaced by ‘Upon their return’.
    Pg 19: ‘there approaching’ replaced by ‘their approaching’.
    Pg 22: ‘in there rebellion’ replaced by ‘in their rebellion’.

  The Life and Death of Judas Iscariot.
    Pg 24: ‘their to expect’ replaced by ‘there to expect’.

  The Wife of Beith.
    Pg 18: ‘ever hop and’ replaced by ‘ever hope and’.
    Pg 19: ‘When yon did cut’ replaced by ‘When you did cut’.