him, and on its probable consequences. His prayer was to the God of his life, who had hitherto delivered him, and who was able to deliver him still.

As the troopers remained long quaffing the stout brown ale, with which in those times the houses of the Scottish tenantry were plentifully supplied from their own malt, Frazer crept into a dark part of the stable, and rearing himself bolt upright, crushed himself into a corner, waiting till he should be dragged forth by his merciless foes. At length the soldiers rose from the festive board, and prepared to depart. They entered the stable reeling and staggering among the horses, and scarcely knowing what they were about. Having led their steeds into the open air, every one being occupied with his own concerns, and oblivious of all things else, they mounted and rode off in a noisy and disorderly manner, leaving behind, by a marvellous oversight, the prize which they chiefly valued. When the party had fairly left the place, and were seen scouring along the bent, Marion ran to the stable, and found her husband standing safe in the corner; and congratulating him on the wonderful deliverance, she instantly cut the cords that bound his hands, and set him free. Their gratitude to the Preserver of their life may easily be conceived, when they saw the prey taken from the mighty at the very moment when it was about to be devoured.

This worthy couple, however, suspected that the danger was not over; they knew that the troopers, whenever they should observe their mistake, would return armed with all the fury of disappointment, and that, being in a state of intoxication, they would wreak their vengeance on them without mercy. Accordingly, John prepared for instant flight, and Marion, knowing that they would as little spare her as her husband, resolved for her own personal safety to accompany him, leaving the children, in the meantime, to the care of a servant. Without losing time, therefore, they proceeded to the fields to seek, for a season, a hiding-place, till the fury of their enemies had abated.

It was not long after they retired till the dragoons, as was anticipated, returned. They had missed their prisoner when they were well advanced on their way, and, with blank astonishment at the circumstance, they turned and hastened back with winged speed to recover the prize. When they arrived at the place, they found that Frazer had fled, and his wife along with him. Their rage was excessive; and, knowing that it was in vain to search for the fugitives in the pathless deserts, they proceeded to work all the mischief

they could within the dwelling-house, and having satisfied their revenge, as far as was practicable, they returned as they

came.

The houseless pair now wandered on the hills in the vicinity of their home, and frequently visited their household in the absence of the enemy. The mother's heart yearned over the helpless children, who were now bereaved of her affectionate care, and often did she steal them a visit at the imminent risk of her life. A family can seldom be placed in a more painful situation than where parents and children are thus severed by the pitiless hand of persecution. The mourning of the tender-hearted mother sitting in the lonely desert, and the wailings of the helpless children by the hearth, bespeak the endurance of affliction, under which human nature is ready to sink.

It was not long after this occurrence, however, till the welcome news of the Revolution sounded, like the silver trumpet of a hallowed jubilee, through the breadth and length of a wasted land. The happy tidings that the arm of the oppressor was broken, and that the children of tribulation were now to walk forth out of the furnace, reached the dreary caves in the wilderness, and the lowly cottages in the glens, and the gloomy prisons in the crowded city; and all hearts bounded with joyousness, and gratitude for a deliverance so signal and so opportune was expressed in loud acclamations of praise to Him who works deliverances in Jacob.

John Frazer and Marion Howatson returned from their wanderings, to seek, without the fear of further interruption from the enemy, a resting-place in their own house. Great was the satisfaction expressed by the artless children when they understood that their father and mother were now to abide with them. Still their weeping, it is said, was at times excessive, when the painful suspicion obtruded itself that their parents might yet be obliged to flee from their home, and leave them as before. So great was the occasional distress of the poor children on this point, that the heart of their affectionate mother was often wrung with anguish at their unfeigned affliction, and it was with great difficulty that she succeeded in allaying their apprehensions, and in soothing their sorrows.

How long the worthy persons survived the days of their tribulation is not said. There are, however, at present living one great-grandchild, and two great-great-grandchildren of these sufferers, and they fondly cherish the memory of their godly ancestors.

CHAPTER XIX.

Alexander Williamson-Gathering at Carsphairn-Incident.

THE Yochan is a beautiful stream which discharges itself into the River Nith, on the south side, exactly opposite the town of Sanquhar. Its banks are skirted with wood, close to the water's edge, presenting, on a small scale, a specimen of the extensive forests which, in remote ages, covered the greater part of the country. The bed of this river, composed for the most part of blue whinstone, is worn smooth and deep by the constant action of the current. The different stages of the river's progress, in its gradual sinking to its present level, are distinctly marked by the most unequivocal indications on both sides of its course; and the geologist, who seeks to extort from nature the knowledge of facts which no history has recorded, may here find sufficient entertainment, and subjects enow of curious investigation, for many a long summer's day. The stream, along the entire line of its track, which is only about eight or nine miles, is adorned with scenery charmingly picturesque, the beauties of which are seldom disclosed to any save the anglers and the shepherds, who are almost the only persons that visit its solitary banks. Its seclusion, its close retreats, and its woody coverts, rendered it an eligible place of resort to the persecuted remnant who sought safety in retiring as far as possible from the dwellings of men. The Yochan, near its source, where the deep and rugged glen through which it pours its waters rises toward the hills and the wilder parts of the district, was more especially frequented by the worthies of the covenant. It formed a kind of central meeting-place for the refugees of Ayrshire, Nithsdale, and Galloway. From the green and sheltered spots on the high ridges of the mountains where they lay concealed, they could easily, without being discovered, discern at a great distance on all sides, if anything

of a hostile nature was in motion. Glen-Harra Rig is particularly mentioned as being a place of this description—a beautiful green plot, far up the valley, from which an extensive view is obtained, and where the wanderers often assembled for social intercourse and the worship of God. It was in such places that, without restraint or fear of discovery, they could raise on high the loud voice of praise, the heavenly melody of which, coming from hearts alive to God, and wafted along on the gentle breeze, fell on the ears of the shepherds by the distant cairn, revealing to them a secret which, rather than disclose, they would submit to lose their lives.

There lived, in times of persecution, in a place called Cruffell, near the source of the Yochan, a man of the name of Alexander Williamson. This man was a Covenanter, and one who feared God with all his house. His principles forbade him to attend the ministrations of the curate; and this exposed him to the fierce displeasure of those who laboured to bring the entire community to one uniform mode of religious worship. Williamson associated chiefly with those who were of kindred sentiments with himself on ecclesiastical matters, and consorted with the pious men who occasionally withdrew to the upland wilds from the face of those who thirsted for their blood. His place of residence soon became noted among the wanderers, who uniformly courted the remotest retreats; and many a friendless but patient sufferer in the cause of truth and godliness, found a cordial welcome at his hearth, and a meal at his board, and a nightly shelter under his roof; and he was approved in his deed, and the blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon him. What a privilege is it to be made serviceable to Christ's people, and what an honour to be helpful with our sympathies and beneficence to those who are suffering for his sake! If, when his people are suffering in his cause, the Head complains from heaven: "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" may we not suppose that, when these sufferings are alleviated by the soothing hand of kindness, Christ is gratified, and looks down from heaven with an approving smile on those who have done this for his sake? It has been observed, that as those who have oppressed God's heritage have, in many instances, been scattered abroad, and their houses left desolate; so those who have befriended his cause, and maintained, in the face of scorn and persecution, their adherence to the truth, have been preserved, and their offspring, for many generations, honoured among men. The descendants of many

of the worthies are to this day known in the land; and so is the posterity of Alexander Williamson.

In the family of our worthy there was an infant child that had not yet been devoted to the Lord in baptism; and the administration of this ordinance was greatly desiderated by the pious head of the household. The sealing ordinances, as they are called, were, in those days of the Church's tribulation, rarely enjoyed; and it was only at field-preachings, or on the occasion of the casual visit of a banished minister, that the sacrament of baptism could be observed. Cruffell, as Williamson was familiarly denominated from the name of his residence, had heard that there was to be a great gathering in the wilds of Carsphairn, in which parish the godly John Semple ministered with amazing success for many a year. The news of this conventicle, to be held on an early day, spread with rapidity far and wide; and a vast congregation from all parts was anticipated. The distance between Cruffell and the proposed place of meeting was not so great but that the journey might, with considerable ease, be performed on the Sabbath morning. It was agreed between Williamson and his wife that, the infant should be carried to Carsphairn for baptism, while she should remain at home with the rest of the children, who were too young to travel so far. Accordingly the appointed period arrived. It was a fine morning, when the days were at the longest, and moss and moor were dry as dust, and every track and footpath in the best trim for pedestrians. Having suitably arrayed the child, and committed him to a worthy female acquaintance, who, on this occasion, was to act the part of a mother, the company departed, and descended the rugged hills in the direction of the Water of Ken, not far from its source. They were well acquainted with every glen and moss, and hillock and brook, in the wild uplands—

"Where rivers, there but brooks,
Dispart to different seas;"

and they could track their way with perfect precision, where others would lose themselves and wander in perpetual bewilderment. They entered on the beautiful pastoral valley of the Ken, whose pellucid stream is fed by many a rill and tributary from the bordering hills, having the magnificent Cairnsmuir on their right, whose bold and apparently perpendicular front rises to an enormous height, taking the precedency of all the congregated mountains in the midst of which he stands. There are few tracks in the south-west of Scotland to per