CHAPTER XXXIX.

John M'Clement.

JOHN M'CLEMENT was a native of the parish of Barr, in Ayrshire, and having married, he removed to the neighbourhood of New Galloway. During his residence in this place he was brought to the knowledge of the truth, and became an associate of the serious people, who often met for prayer in the district. His wife, however, was a person of a different description, and from her he received no small opposition on account of his frequenting conventicles and private meetings for religious conference. She loved her husband, and was an affectionate mother; but she was a stranger to the power of religion, and could see no good reason why people should expose themselves to hardships for their adherence to the Gospel. She failed not to remonstrate with her husband on the alleged impropriety of his conduct in exposing his household to the merciless treatment of the dragoons, when they might otherwise live in safety in attending the ministry of the curate. John easily sympathized with his wife, knowing that she did not see in the same light as he did, and that what was a matter of conscience to him, was to her a thing of mere indifference. He sustained with the utmost patience the opposition he met with, and at the same time laboured assiduously to impart to her the knowledge of Christ. He loved her tenderly, and her soul's welfare was to him a matter of unspeakable solicitude.

They had a little girl whose name was Janet, and who seemed, from the religious conversations she had heard, to be deeply impressed with her father's sentiments. This child, about twelve years of age, stole, whenever an opportunity presented itself, to the field-preachings which her father was in the habit of attending; and on these occasions salutary impressions were made on her youthful heart, and she was at length brought to the knowledge of that Saviour

in whom her father trusted. Her conduct in this respect, however, was peculiarly offensive to her mother, who used her with more than ordinary harshness when at any time she ventured to a conventicle. The child, however, having imbibed the spirit of the Gospel, uniformly displayed the greatest meekness under the severe treatment she received from her parent. She never allowed an angry feeling to arise in her bosom, nor an improper word to escape her lips. Her temper and demeanour made an impression on her mother, who one day said to John: "I think Janet's disposition is of late much more sweet and kindly than it used to be; she seems to be the most affectionate and obliging of all our children." "My dear Mary," replied John, "the change you perceive in Janet is the result of the grace of God, which changes the heart, and makes us new creatures; and this grace she has received in hearing the Gospel preached in the fields." This remark greatly displeased Mary, who, in her usual style, entreated her husband not to bring ruin on the family, by instilling into his children his strange notions, and inducing them to follow his example.

After this, Mary, though she could not prevent John from attending the interdicted conventicles, was determined to exercise her authority over her young daughter, and to restrain more effectually than heretofore her propensity for field-preachings.

Several years after this, a conventicle was announced to be held at Carsphairn, and on the day appointed a great company assembled. Janet M'Clement had found her way to the gathering, expecting to meet with her father, who was from home-probably under hiding. Among the people, accordingly, she found her honoured parent, with whom she expected to unite in the sweet fellowship of the saints; but her expectations were defeated, for the meeting was hastily dispersed by the soldiers, and the helpless flock of Christ was scattered and pursued in every direction. In the confusion, John M'Clement was separated from his daughter, and fled into a neighbouring morass, where he succeeded in concealing himself till the danger was past. Janet, having missed her father, pursued her way homeward over a mossy and uneven ground of many miles' extent, and the poor girl, on the point of expiring, through fatigue and hunger, reached her home when the day was far spent. On entering the house her mother met her with a severe reprimand, which she received with a becoming submission, and without answering again. Her exertions, however, in her flight had so

completely overpowered her gentle frame, that she was seized with a severe fever, which in a short period ended her days. During her illness her mother was deeply affected with two things-her daughter's meekness and her own unkindness. When she reflected on these, and considered the prayers and the exhortations of her husband by the couch of her dying child, she felt a relenting of heart to which she had formerly been a total stranger. A new light began to dawn upon her mind, and the conduct of her husband and of her daughter was presented to her in a very different aspect. One day she said to Janet: "I fear, my dear child, that I have been too harsh to you; my treatment of you has not been such as became a mother, when I imagined that you might expose us to danger in following your father's ministers. You were

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always pleasant to me, but your kindness and gentleness have been more especially noticeable since you began to accompany your father to the outed preachers; and now I am afraid I shall lose you, and my heart will pain me after you are gone." My dear mother," replied Janet, "I am indeed very ill, and I do not think I shall recover; but my heart is full of peace, and my trust is in the Saviour. Death is not a pleasant prospect, and especially to a young person. I have now reached the age of womanhood, and life was opening before me; but it is the will of my Saviour that I should bid an adieu to all, and I am willing to depart, and I long to enter into his rest. But, my dear mother, I am anxious on your account, and it would greatly lighten the affliction of my dying bed to see you turning to the Saviour, and seeking his face with all your heart."

Janet never rose from her bed; but ere she departed to her rest she had the satisfaction of seeing a blessed change wrought on her mother. She died in the spring of the year prior to the Revolution, at the early age of twenty.

After this John enjoyed the peculiar pleasure of seeing Mary walking in the steps of their departed child. It was now her practice to accompany her husband to those religious meetings of which she formerly so much disapproved.

The following incidents which befell John M'Clement are worthy of notice. On one occasion a meeting was convened at Fingland, in Carsphairn, at which John happened to be present. During the time the friends were engaged in religious exercises, a party of horsemen arrived at the place, and dispersed the assembly. John, among others, made his escape from the house and fled, but was closely pursued by the troopers. As he descended toward the Water of Ken,

and the pursuers rapidly gaining ground upon him, he came to a small sheep-fold, within which were confined a ewe and a lamb, while a shepherd's plaid was spread like a curtain over the entrance into the enclosure, to prevent their escape. When the fugitive arrived at the fold, where, owing to the inequality of the ground, or some other intervening object, he was concealed from the view of the dragoons, he seized the plaid, threw it across his shoulders, and having caught the ewe by the horns, led her to the outside of the fold, and just as the troopers came up he was in the act of putting the lamb to suck. The soldiers asked him if he saw a man running past him in the line of their pursuit. "I did not," he replied, “notice any person pass me here; but if you are in chase after a fugitive, I would advise you to ride in the direction of the Holm Glen, as being as likely a place as any I could think of to which he would betake himself." The horsemen followed his counsel; and John having replaced the ewe and the lamb in the fold, and restored the plaid, hastened from the spot to seek concealment at a distance.

At another time, when John and his wife were returning from a conventicle across the moors, and had nearly reached their dwelling, they observed two troopers following them in the distance. They quickened their pace, and reached the house before the soldiers arrived. John, by the advice of Mary, hid himself in the little garden among the tall and bushy kail-stocks. The dragoons arrived and made inquiries, and Mary attempted to satisfy them in the best manner she could. She entertained them in the house, while one of the children held the horses at the door. She succeeded in saving appearances, and in evading the questions which were asked respecting her husband. The soldiers departed pleased with their reception; and John, leaving his retreat in the garden, entered his house with a grateful heart.

The last time John was harassed by the dragoons was when he was returning from a conventicle in Carsphairn. He was pursued by a number of troopers for several miles. He fled at his utmost speed; but his enemies were fast gaining ground, and must certainly have overtaken him, had he not resorted to the following stratagem. In his flight he happened to evade for a few minutes the view of his pursuers, either by turning round a knoll, or in passing through a hollow place. He came upon a sheep newly dead, lying on the heath, when he instantly doffed his coat, and seizing the sheep by the legs, threw it across his shoulders, and advanced, as if he had been the shepherd bringing home the carcass, in

the direction in which the soldiers were approaching. He met his enemies in the face, moving tardily along with his burden, as if he had been unconscious of their presence. The troopers, who had not the slightest suspicion that he was the person of whom they were in quest, asked him if he observed a man crossing the moor before them. "I did," replied John; " but he made a short turn in the hollow there, and has taken a different route; ride straight along the height in the direction of Minigaff, and lose no time." The troopers took his advice, and scoured over the bent in quest of their object. When the party was out of sight, John threw down his burden, went back for his coat, and escaped in safety to his house. This worthy man evaded all the perils of the persecution, and died at an advanced age in the neighbourhood of New Galloway. His descendants occupied the farm of Star, in the parish of Barr, within the last forty years.