and were left to gnaw their tongues in painful disappointment. What became of this good man tradition does not say; but on this occasion, at least, he had reason to set up his stone of remembrance, and say: "Hitherto hath the Lord helped me."

In connection with this we may notice the following anecdote of a young man of the name of William Adams, who lived in Wellwood, and who, on account of his piety and nonconforming principles, became an object of hostility to the persons who, in those times, sought every opportunity to harass and persecute the people of God. William, who was about to be married to an excellent and amiable young woman in the neighbourhood, had appointed a meeting with her in the moors. On the day specified, he was first at the trysting-place; and, in order to pass the time till his friend should arrive, in the most profitable way, he opened his Bible and read the Word of God. He had not long continued at this employment till his eye caught a party of dragoons close upon him; he started to his feet; the enemy rode up to him, and, in an instant, he was shot dead on the spot. The young woman, who was now advancing at a quick pace along the heath, heard the loud and startling report of fire-arms precisely in the direction in which she was going. She walked onward with a throbbing heart and with a faltering stepshe feared lest her beloved William had fallen by the savage hand of the foe; and her worst suspicions seemed to be justified, when she saw several horsemen coming over the rising ground, apparently from the very place where she expected to meet with her lover. She met them just as she was passing along a narrow foot-bridge, thrown by the shepherds, for their own convenience, over the mossy streamlet; and as they were crossing the brook, close by the side of the bridge, one of the dragoons drew his sword, and jocularly struck her with its broad-side, under the pretence of pushing her into the water. Her spirit was imbittered, and her courage was roused; and, wrapping her apron closely round her hand, she seized the sword by the blade, wrenched it from the grasp of the warrior, snapped it in two over her knee, and flung the pieces into the stream. With eager impatience she hastened to the meeting-place. All her fears were realized-her William was lying stiff on the ground, and his blood had stained the heather bloom with a deeper dye.

It is worthy of remark, that the annals of the persecuting period do not record the sufferings of almost any one belonging to the parish of Sanquhar, notwithstanding the many good men that must have lived in it at that time. Their

exemption from persecution has been supposed to result, in a great measure, from the leniency of the curate, who was a good-natured, easy sort of man, whose name was James Kirkwood, a man of facetious memory, and of whom some curious anecdotes are related. Tradition says, that instead of seeking occasion against those of his parishioners who refused to submit to his ministry, he publicly announced that, if on a given day they would assemble within the churchyard, though they did not enter the church, he would give a favourable report of the whole parish, and screen the nonconformists from the vengeance of their persecutors. It would seem that this request was, to a certain extent at least, complied with. There is an anecdote current among the people of this neighbourhood, which displays in some measure the humane disposition of the incumbent. Two of the covenanting brethren from the wilds of Carsphairn, in full flight before the dragoons, dashed into the River Nith and reached the opposite bank a few yards below the manse. It happened that a number of individuals, among whom was the curate, were playing at quoits on the green. "Where shall we run?" cried the two men. "Doff your coats," said the curate, "and play a game with me." They did so. dragoons immediately followed; they passed the curate and rode on in pursuit, and the men, through his generous interference, escaped.

The

There is on the east bank of the River Crawick, near the town, and not far from the place where Sir William Douglas, many a century ago, concealed his men on the evening prior to the memorable day when he took the castle of Sanquhar from General Beauford, who commanded the English troops who occupied its fastness, an old ruined cavern, said to be the frequent resort of the intercommuned wanderers. This place had two entrances; so that when they were assailed at the one, they escaped at the other. In the immediate neighbourhood of this retreat are the graves of two worthies, whose names are unknown, and who probably died of disease occasioned by the hardships to which they were exposed.

CHAPTER II.

Peden in Glendyne-Woman at Ingleston-Craigdarroch.

ABOUT the commencement of the persecution in Scotland, nearly "three hundred and fifty ministers were ejected from their churches, in the severity of winter, and driven with their families to seek shelter among the peasants. These ministers were forbidden to preach even in the fields, or to approach within twenty miles of their former charges; and all the people, as well as their pastors, who were not prepared to abjure their dearest rights, and to submit to the most galling and iniquitous civil and religious despotism, were denounced as traitors." None were allowed in any way to assist them, or even to supply them with food, or to shelter them in their houses; and those whose humanity or Christian principle inclined them to show kindness to those friendless followers of Christ, exposed their property and their persons to the rapacity and cruelty of a wicked and injurious policy. The apostle's description of the destitute condition of the ancient people of God, in persecuting times, is literally true of our forefathers: "They wandered in deserts and in mountains, and in dens and in caves of the earth;" but they took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, knowing that in heaven they had a better and an enduring substance." Often in the moorland solitudes, concealed from the vigilant eye of their persecutors, did these devoted servants of the Redeemer open the wells of salvation for the refreshment of God's weary heritage, who, thirsting for the water of life, resorted to them in crowds; and many a blessed outpouring of the gracious Spirit of God was experienced by them, when, in the hallowed retreat of the wilderness, they congregated at the risk of all that was dear to them on earth to worship the God of their fathers-the enemies of God and his holy Evangel not permitting them to assemble in temples made with hands. The Saviour, however, bore testimony to the

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word of his own grace, and to the worthiness of that cause for which his people were suffering, in filling the hearts of his followers with comfort, and in crowning the ministrations of his servants with success.

The desolation and distress of many a family, after the standard of the Gospel was reared in the fields, were unutterable. The tender-hearted wife knew not how it fared with her husband traversing the waste, or lodged in the cold damp cave; and many a disconsolate hour did she spend in weeping over her helpless children, who had apparently nothing before them but starvation and scorn; and the affectionate husband, far from his dearly cherished home, was full of the bitter remembrance of his beloved family, and picturing to himself their many wants which he could not now relieve, and their many sorrows which he could not soothe, and the many insults from which he could not defend them; but, notwithstanding all this, they had peace-for God was with them; and, though their hearts sometimes misgave them, yet, through the grace of him with whose cause they were identified, their faith recovered its proper tone, and their despondency vanished.

One of the most renowned of those worthies who persisted in preaching the Gospel in the wilds of his native land, at the constant hazard of his life, was the venerable Peden, whose history is familar in almost every cottage in Scotland. Many incidents in the life of this good man have already been collected, but something new may be still added. There are to be found a few stray anecdotes of him here and there in the remote parts of the country, and which, for his sake, may be deemed worthy of record. Few persons possessed a more saintly character than did this man of God. He was full of faith and of the Holy Ghost. Entirely devoted to his Master's service, he counted not his own life dear unto him, that he might maintain the cause of truth in the face of the abounding iniquity of a degenerate age. His solitary wanderings, his destitution, his painful perseverance in preaching the Gospel, the peril in which he lived, his prayerful spirit, and the homeliness of his manners, greatly endeared him to the people among whom he sojourned. He had no home, and therefore spent much of his time in the fields. The caves by the mountain stream, the dense hazel wood in the deep glen, the feathery brackens on the hill, the green corn when it was tall enough to screen him from observation, afforded him by turns, when necessary, a retreat from his pursuers, and a place for communing with his God.

Among the many hiding-places to which this man. of whom the world was not worthy, occasionally retreated, was the solitude of Glendyne, about three miles to the east of Sanquhar. A more entire seclusion than this is rarely to be found. Glendyne stretches eastward, winding among the hills for nearly three miles. The width of the glen at the bottom is in many places little more than five or six times the breadth of the brawling torrent that rushes through it. Dark precipitous mountains, frowning on either side, rise from the level of the valley to an immense height. On the eastern extremity of the glen a cluster of hills gathers to a point, and forms an eminence of great altitude, from which a noble prospect of a vast extent of country is obtained. Near the lower end of this defile, which in ancient times was thickly covered with wood, and where it terminates its sinuous course with one majestic sweep, reaching forward to the bleak moorlands beneath, our revered worthy had selected for himself a place of refuge. This spot, concealed by the dark mantling of the forest, was known only to a few who made the cause of these sufferers their own. It happened, on one occasion, that this honoured servant of Christ, having emerged from his covert, stood by the margin of the forest, on the beautiful slope of the mountain above. It was the balmy month of May, and Nature had just put on her loveliest attire. The forest was vocal with the sweetest music. The blackbird and the thrush were piping their richest notes on the "green wood tree;" the gentle cooing of the wood-dove issued with a delicious softness from the grove; and the joyous lark, high in the air, was pouring a flood of melody down upon the wilderness. The wild bees were humming among the honeyed blossoms of the hawthorn; the scented wind, breathing over the fragrant heath, was playing with the rustling foliage; the brook was murmuring in the ravine below; the lambkins were gambolling on the verdant lea, and the sheep were grazing quietly by their side; while on the distant hill the shepherd was seen, wrapped in his plaid, with his sportive dog at his foot, slowly winding his way up the steep ascent. The good man's heart beat high with rapture-his delighted eye roamed over the charming variety of hill and dale-he contemplated the glorious sun, and all the splendid scenery of the sky-he felt as if he were standing on holy ground, in the midst of the great temple of Nature he experienced an unusual elevation of mind, and all the freshness and buoyancy of youth seemed once more to take possession of his aged frame. Full of