not obliged to understand their figurative expressions; and besides, James Howie had by this time thrown off his black coat, and his hose and shoes, for the purpose of aiding him in his flight. It was considered as rather a remarkable circumstance that the troopers themselves did not at this moment observe Howie, who was not more than a quarter of a mile distant from them, running bare-footed and begirt with a brown vest. But though they lost the track of the fugitive, they noticed another shepherd following his sheep on the waste, and pursued him. The shepherd, however, was a nimble person, and though they followed him for several miles, they lost him; and, in the meantime, James Howie effected his escape. When the troopers had wearied themselves in traversing the moor, they returned to Lochgoin and plundered the house of everything valuable; for these men were robbers as well as persecutors.

Lochgoin, as has already been observed, was a place of common resort to the wanderers who in those times were, for conscience' sake, driven from their homes. Ministers

and gentlemen, as well as those in the humbler walks of life, found Lochgoin an asylum in the hour of their distress. Mr Renwick on one occasion visited this friendly mansion in his wanderings through the deserts. His shoes were worn to tatters, and James Howie, who loved him for his Master's sake, not only entertained him hospitably, but furnished him with a pair of new shoes, to fit him for his sojournings in the wilderness. A cup of cold water given to a disciple shall not lose its reward; and James Howie was blessed in his deed. Mr Shiels and the lairds of Kersland and Kinloch frequented this house, and spent many an hour of spiritual intercourse with its inmates.

James Howie refused to attend the curate in the church of Fenwick, and to pay the cess which was imposed on the subjects for the purpose of suppressing the Gospel in the fields; and, consequently, he and his son John were placed on the fugitive roll, and treated as outlaws. He survived the Revolution, and died 1691. His son John reached the great age of ninety-one, and breathed his last in 1755. Their ashes repose in the same grave in the churchyard of Fenwick.

James Howie never became a member of the Revolution Church; because it was not based on the principles of the Second Reformation. Mr Fowlis, the first minister of Fenwick after the Revolution, held many a conversation when him on the subject, but could bring him to no accommoda

tion; nor were the conversations which even Mr Shiels held with him attended with a different result.

Near the end of his days he drew up a testimony, after the form of those in the "Cloud of Witnesses," in which he expresses his adherence to the work of reformation, and strongly testifies against the defections of the times.

A few days previous to his death his mind was greatly clouded, and he was distressed with fears respecting his interest in the Saviour. He told his sons, that if he died in this state of spiritual darkness, they were to destroy his testimony; but that if he should experience a deliverance, they were to preserve it. The desired relief, however, was granted; and he enjoyed much of the Saviour's presence before his departure. Sitting on a couch near the fire, with his wife and children about him, this man of God prayed three times with a heavenly earnestness, which must have been greatly edifying to all present; and at the termination of the first prayer he cried out, "He is come," alluding to the gracious presence of the Saviour, who had condescended to visit his servant with the light of his countenance-to loose his bonds, and to fill his heart with joy. At the close of the second prayer, which was only about half-an-hour before he expired, he cried again, "He is come." He removed from the world with the high praises of the Redeemer in his mouth, celebrating the free grace of God that had such respect to poor sinners, of whom he deemed himself chief.

This godly man left a sweet savour behind him. He was an honest witness for Jesus Christ, suffering many hardships in his cause; and when he came to his end, he experienced the same consolations which filled the hearts of the blessed martyrs on the field and on the scaffold.

CHAPTER XLII.

Grierson of Lagg-John Dempster of Dalry.

EVERY Scotsman has heard of the notorious Lagg, of persecuting memory. In his wanton cruelties and savage manners he was second to none in the period in which he lived-not even to Claverhouse himself. His fame, it is true, was of a more local description than that of some others of the Cavaliers of his time; but the terror of his name was equally great within the district over which he presided. The upper parts of Galloway were assigned to this daring champion of Prelatic usurpation, as the locality within which he was licensed to roam at pleasure, committing havoc where he saw fit on the unoffending people of God, who sought only to be permitted to worship him according to the dictates of their own conscience, and agreeably to his Word. His residence, when in Galloway was Garryhorn, in the parish of Carsphairn; in which district, as Wodrow informs us, there were no fewer than two garrisons stationed, for the purpose of keeping the peasantry in subjection. This fact is a proof that there existed even in that wild part of the country a goodly host of witnesses for the truth, in order to suppress whom their enemies saw it necessary to employ measures of no common severity. If Lagg was another Claverhouse, Peter Pearson the curate was another Sharp. This man lay as a grievous incubus on the parish of Carsphairn; and his vigilance in detecting the Nonconformists, and in communicating information to Lagg and others, contributed to the violent death he met with in his own house-the circumstances connected with which have been narrated in a former chapter.

The house of Garryhorn was the head-quarters of Lagg in Carsphairn. The bed on which he slept is still preserved, and is strongly panelled with boards of black oak, overlapping each other like tiles on the roof of a house. There was

formerly at the foot of this bed a sort of kennel, in which he kept a number of dogs, which were employed both in hunting and in scenting out the hiding-places of the wanderers. This nuisance, however, has long since been removed, and the chamber is now the comfortable dormitory of the worthy shepherd of the farm, who occupies in peace the identical bed of the redoubted persecutor. Lagg lived after the Revolution, and long after he had nothing to do in the way of persecution. He lived a dreaded and a hated object by the virtuous peasantry who had suffered so much at his hands. After his power of doing mischief was taken from him, he became an object of great curiosity to many, so that a sight of the persecutor was eagerly sought by those who had heard so much of him. Among others who were solicitous to obtain a view of this once terrible man, was the servant of Colonel Vance of Barnbarroch, in the vicinity of Wigton. His master being on a visit to Lagg, the young man made known to him his wish. The Colonel told him that he would find occasion to call him into the room sometime during the evening. When he was called, and had placed himself in his master's presence, Lagg turned himself round in his chair, and thundered out," Ony Whigs in Galloway noo, lad?" The attitude, and the countenance, and the voice, made an impression which remained with the lad till his latest day.

Lagg, whose hands were deeply imbrued in the blood of his countrymen, was the murderer of the worthy man some of the incidents of whose life form the subject of the present chapter.

John Dempster, the Covenanter, lived at Garryyard, in the parish of Dalry, in Galloway. He followed the occupation of a tailor, and was one of the patriots who fought at Bothwell Bridge. Being a noted Nonconformist, a strict search was frequently made for him in the district where he resided. So intent were his enemies on his apprehension, that he was obliged to leave his house, and to seek an abode in the woods and caves of the neighbourhood. He selected a hiding-place in the rugged sides of the Black Water, a stream which empties itself into the silvery Ken a few miles above the village of Dalry. The cave of the rock in which he lodged was the place where, in the summer months, he plied his trade, while his wife conveyed to him his food by stealth.

On one occasion his wife, in the evening dusk, had brought him a supply of provisions, and having learned that the enemy was not in the neighbourhood, she persuaded him to

leave his retreat, and to seek shelter for one night under his own roof. The worthy man was induced to visit his household, in the hope that he might be permitted to remain for a few hours in his own lowly hut without interruption, and then to return in the morning to his rocky cell. The night, accordingly, was spent without the intrusion of the military, and John, after the morning's repast, and after the accustomed family devotions, was preparing to return to his hiding-place by the purling brook. It was a fine morning; and his wife, whose solicitude for her husband's welfare was incessant, went to the front of the house to ascertain if the space within the field of her vision was clear of the wandering troopers, who were frequently abroad at all seasons seeking to surprise the helpless and unwary. As she cast her anxious eye afar over the landscape, she noticed a band of dragoons marching at their utmost speed in the direction of the house. The unwelcome tidings were communicated to John, who lost not a moment in making his escape. As he was running at his full stretch, having thrown off his shoes to facilitate his flight, he was observed by the horsemen, who pursued him hotly, and fired several times without effect.

John fled in the direction of Earndarrock Wood, a thicket about the distance of half a mile from his house. Between him and the wood there lay a moss or space of boggy ground, to which, when the dragoons approached, their progress was suddenly arrested. One of their number, however, found his way round by the end of the morass, and spurring furiously his war-steed, came up to John as he was attempting to scramble over the dyke that surrounded the wood. He had no weapons of defence; but remembering that he had with him the large scissors which were employed in cutting the good broad cloth, he drew them from his pocket, and just when the horse had neared him so close that he felt his head rubbing and pressing on his shoulder, he drove, with the force of desperation, the sharp-pointed instrument into the animal's forehead. The violent stroke made the horse rear and spring to the one side, so that his rider, who had uplifted his sword to strike, was cast impetuously on the ground. This overthrow afforded John time to dart into the wood before the party reached the spot. The troopers, leaving their horses at the edge of the wood, pursued him on foot to the brink of a deep ravine, adown the rugged sides of which he made his way with all possible haste. His pursuers, finding it inconvenient to descend after him, employed themselves in tumbling large fragments of rock after him; but John

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