ENUINE autobiographies have almost always some kind of value; but when written in times of historical interest, and by persons who suffered persecution for their faith, such writings cannot fail to deserve attention. They cast light on the modes of thought of their day; they reveal, often almost unintentionally, matters unnoticed by historians; and when written by those whose simple truthfulness is apparent on every page, they may be accepted not only as faithful pictures of individual characters, but as types of a large class, trained under similar teaching, and influenced by similar circumstances. A set of memoirs is before us, written by different members of a family of Presbyterians, during the reigns of Charles II. and James II. They reveal glimpses both of the inner life and the outward history of the writers; and though there is little of the picturesque or romantic in the story of their lowly lives, and little of anything like literary talent in their simple narratives, they have the charm of being true, and, as such, afford a useful study. When we contrast those times with our own, we may well ask ourselves, if our own faith would be found as stedfast as theirs were it tried as severely. In reading their lives, we find that the sorely persecuted Christians of those days were deeply in earnest. They thought less of hardships than of their inward conflicts; and, in the same way, the deliverances for which they give thanks to God are often rather those of the spirit than of the body, soul refreshings' from some verse of Scripture brought seasonably to mind, and discoveries of the Lord's kindness,' which filled their hearts with joy, and more than made up for all their trials.

Without pausing to discuss further the peculiar aspect of their religious life, or the means by which it was sustained in those hard times, we proceed to enable our readers to examine it for themselves, by presenting them with extracts from some of those old writings, connected by just so much of narrative as will explain them. And the first of our memoirs is that of James Nimmo. He commences his history by giving some account of his ancestors, who had been for several generations possessed of lands in the parish of Bathgate, Linlithgowshire. James was born in 1654, and educated, first at the parish school of Bathgate, and afterwards at that of Stirling, where he was boarded with a good master, and remained till he was seventeen years of age, when being, as he tells us, 'resolved not to follow my book, I began to think of some other way of bestowing myself in some employment, and at length, by Greenyard's and my father's advice and consent, it was resolved upon to bind me with a relation, one Matthew Cumming, merchant in Glasgow. But when this, by all rational means, was essayed, and we went there, by a very small matter it misgave, and my father called me home to himself; and then the Dutch war falling out with England, he had

no will to let me go abroad, in which I think the merciful hand of God may be seen by considering his chart of providences with me since.'

John therefore remained at home, assisting his father in farming; but though an only son, he was treated with great severity, and his life seems to have been far from happy. He scarcely mentions his mother, who was one of the Mures of Rowallan; and from all he says of his father's house, we should think that it was not from the influences of his home that he received his religious impressions, for he seemed to have met with little sympathy there. In 1676 he had a severe fever, and at that time he mentions the visit of Mr. William Crichton ('our outed minister'), as having for a time produced some impression on his mind; but still he remained in great ignorance of the way of salvation till the following circumstance occurred.

'Some nights thereafter, Mr. James Donaldson, an outed minister, was at Whytlaw, about half a mile distance, who was to exercise privately; to which place, though mighty low in body and unfit for travel, I went. And their ordinary in reading fell to be 1 Samuel xxiii., where he spoke how David sought several times counsel of the Lord what to do, and it is still said, "The Lord answered him;" and so he held out, that as David then sought counsel, so ought we still in everything we are concerned in. And although the Lord did not answer now by an audible voice, yet to them that could win singly and seriously to seek Him for counsel, He could bear home with clear and convincing efficacy upon their spirits the answer of their requests, and make them as firmly to believe it as if He spoke with an audible voice. Which expressions, being so evidently cleared from the word, I thought belonged to my case, and was made to believe it was so, and that there was ground for me yet to plead with the Lord. So, returning home some more settled in mind, I began again to seek Him by prayer. And some nights after, being in great distress and straitenedness in my mind, and like to sink, it pleased the Lord powerfully to dart in that Scripture (Matt. ix. 2), when the man sick of the palsy was brought to Him, and was borne, and could not go, and Christ said, "Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee." This was made very suitable to my case. I could do nothing for myself more than the poor man in the palsy. I then got some view of the blessed covenant of redemption, and it came with such efficacy that all my discouragements were gone, and my fears of wrath gone, and intimations of his free love and pardon made known with much light, life, and inexpressible sweetness and joy in my soul; so that I wan to much freedom, admiring the freeness and richness of his grace and mercy, so that I could never express what I found, but was made to praise again and again, and rejoice in Him. I thought there was not any in that case but myself, and that I could not live long; and then being supplied with secret strength and light from him

self, I wan step by step still to see more and more of my own vileness, and was made to abhor and detest myself because of sin, but still made to exalt Him for owning such a miserable wretch as I was. And I wan more and more to see my own wants, and to plead for supply from Him, and sweetly to believe that He heard my requests, and sensibly answered the same. He made my heart delight in his laws and in all his ways, and bless Him that I was not cast into hell long since; yea, although He should yet cast me there, I had ground to justify Him, considering my deservings, and love Him for what He had done to my soul. And many a sweet blink of his favour in prayer and meditation was I trysted with, and with strong resolutions coming in my mind to be for Him, and being inexpressibly supported in this way.'

This happy state continued for a time; but at last, he says, 'I began too much to idolize what I had attained, and look too much to my own strength,' the effects of which were soon seen in loss of peace and much inward distress, which was made more bitter by the unkind conduct of his father.

'Now, about the month of June 1677, there was to be a rendezvous of our militia troop, and upon the same day some ministers had appointed a public fast in the fields, whereat I was desirous to be. But being formerly for some time the rider of the militia horse kept by my father (as baillie and factor for Boghall), he was against my going to the said fast. But I accidentally meeting with an old servant of my father's, and telling him I was unwilling to go to the rendezvous, having a resolution to go somewhere else, he offered for some consideration to go for me, which I easily consented to; but my father was displeased, fearing the other man would spoil the horse; but I was intent, and went to the fast. Mr. William Gilchrist, one of the ministers, did preface upon the 4th verse of the xliii. of Genesis, anent Joseph and his brethren; how his brothers were pressing their father Jacob to send Benjamin, their younger brother, to Joseph, because he had said, "Ye shall not see my face, except ye bring your brother with you." And so the minister said, that if we did desire to see the Lord's face that day, we behoved to bring Christ our Brother with us, for the Lord was saying no less to us this day than Joseph did to his brethren, "Ye shall not see my face except your Brother Jesus be with you." The which did stick to me; but word of a party of the enemies coming, the meeting was dissolved, though it was a mistake. So, being dismissed, and I coming home, the next day being in the fields my alone, and my Bible with me, my heart being affected with the preface the former day, I was reading that Scripture again, at which time in the reading thereof the Lord broke into my soul with such light, life, and joy, in the discovery of Christ, the God-man and Mediator, in whom the Father was well pleased (and no acceptance without Him), and Christ intimating, "Ye believe in God, believe also in me," by whom, and through whose merits alone ye can find access and acceptance.

'Now here I must observe that in all my former trouble and outgate, I still wanted that free and full discovery of Christ, in his nature and offices, particularly as our Brother and only Mediator. So in many things this was as a second law work and conversion, and clearer light and confirmation.'

Events now took place which were to affect the whole course of James Nimmo's future life, and to subject him for many years to banishment and constant danger. He thus describes the rising in arms of the Covenanters in Avondale, and their success at Drumclog, where Claverhouse at the head of his own troop of horses, and two companies of dragoons, attacked a conventicle assembled for worship, and received a signal defeat.

Now, in the beginning of June this year 1679, Clavers and his troops coming against a field meeting of the oppressed Presbyterians on the Sabbath-day, the people being still in fears, severals went to the meeting in their arms, in case of attacks, rather to defend themselves than be taken, and either hanged or banished as slaves, and did, upon the enemy's approach, go out to defend themselves, where several of the enemy were killed, and so the men were necessitate to keep in arms for their defence; and friends from several places coming to their aid, they increased to some thousands, and resolved, if possible, to free themselves of their heavy bondage.'

He then describes his own share in this war; and heavy indeed must have been the oppression which induced so quiet and peace-loving a man to take up arms, and engage in so hopeless a struggle.

'I having resolved, when the Lord intimated mercy to my soul, that if ever the Lord called for service at my hand, I would venture my all for Him; and seeing that the party now in arms owned to be for the Lord's cause, I judged myself obliged to own and assist them, and accordingly went, without any discouragement from my father, who by this was become much more kindly to me. But when I came, I was not half an hour there until I feared the Lord was not with them, seeing no authority in discipline. And being ten days with them, I observed I could never get liberty in secret, which made me, with other things, fear the issue, perceiving much division among those that should have guided the rest. However, upon June 22d, we were broke by the enemy and wholly dispersed, and many killed and taken; myself, by the merciful hand of God, safely brought off, though for some time I was in the place of greatest danger, and a cannon ball killed a horse under a man hard by me. Oft has that word been sweet to me, that "He was a cover to me in the day of battle." So I stayed hiddenly, sometimes in one place, sometimes in another, in much hazard. About three days after we were broke, an alarm came where I was that a party of the enemy was coming. It being in the night time, I was made to rise, and go to a corn-field and hide myself; when in the morning, getting myself somewhat composed, desired to address my

self to the Lord by prayer, and therein He fully did satisfy my mind that we were broke, and that it was not yet time, nor were we meet for deliverance; and considering the divisions amongst them, I was made to bless the Lord we were broke, rather than we should have destroyed one another.'

This fatal defeat, known as the battle of Bothwell Brig, was the end of the insurrection; but to James Nimmo it was the beginning of troubles. 'I was often made to lie in cold barns that winter; yet I enjoyed much pleasant quietness in my mind, though cold, and bad diet, and not timely, did affect my body. And in the spring thereafter, I used to come home early, and direct my father's servants to their work, and retire again to the fields, having still a watchful eye, and under fear of the enemy; and at night I went to some retired place, and lay sometimes in one barn, and sometimes in another.

'One night, lying down in a little barn, belonging to an old, honest servant of my father's, I found myself very weary, and my body distressed, and therefore resolved that, if it pleased the Lord to give me rest, I would lie a while longer than my ordinary next morning, which I did. And it was a merciful providence; for the old servant, having been at the head of his own yard, where he could easily see my father's house, coming in by the end of his barn, met his wife, and says to her (so as I heard), "Alas! for I fear James is taken; for there is a party of horsemen on his father's green!" for he knew not but that I was gone early as I used. The which I hearing, immediately rose, and came out, which made them glad. So I, casting off my coat, put on a cotter man's, and went to a moss hard by, and wrought among peats, I knew not for whom. The enemy came by and by again, after they had missed me and rifled my father's house. They passed and repassed to several houses by the moss in my view, and I busy working in the cotter man's coat, and so they missed me, at which I was glad, and desired to bless the Lord for inclining me to lie so long in bed, and determining me where to go and work for my safety when I rose. And though they got some of my clothes, which they took with them, they missed

the substance.'

He now resolved, if possible, to escape to Holland, and took leave of his parents, intending to sail by a ship, the mate of which was one of his relations. But on going to Bo'ness for this purpose, he found that the wind did not serve to sail, and was disappointed for that day, which gave him an opportunity of going to see his outed minister, Mr. William Crighton, at Ballancrieff. Here he met the Lady Park Hay, from Morayshire, who, on hearing of his intention, persuaded him to alter his course, and to go north with her husband, the Laird of Park, to take charge of his affairs as chamberlain in his estates in Moray.

Upon the 24th August 1680, having caused Park buy me a horse, I came to Edinburgh, and on the morrow crossed the ferry and came to Kirkcaldy, Pathhead, and on the Sabbath, being the 28th, I was unexpectedly trysted with ser

mon by Mr. John Moncrieff, in a barn there, on Obadiah, wherein I got much satisfaction. After sermon I retired to the fields, where the Lord helped me to pour out my heart before Him with weeping and supplication for many things, both in behalf of myself, the church, my parents, and other friends left behind me, and to plead as to my guiding and assistance where I was going; and I hope He who gave me a heart to plead with Him, at that time, also heard my requests.

September 4, 1680, we took journey, and the 8th we came to Inshork, Park's house in Moray. . . . And it pleased the Lord to give me favour in the sight of all I had to do with, and made those I was to stay with more tender of me than my father and mother, the which was very encouraging to me, and my mind was much calmed, and made the more to serve the Lord with rejoicing and gladness of heart.'

In Moray James became acquainted with a man greatly esteemed in the church, Mr. Thomas Hogg, formerly minister of Kiltearn, whom he describes as 'that signally holy man of God, who was a true father in our Israel, and to whom all that feared the Lord had a great deference; yea, enemies themselves. He being not only endowed with much of the mind of God, but also with much of a clear judgment, and a solid sound mind, and albeit courteous to all; yet he would not omit with authority to reprove sin in any, but with such gaining wisdom that all feared him. The godly loved him, and enemies could find nothing against him, except in the matters of his God,-therein he would not yield a hoof,-and yet managed with that respect and discretion towards his enemies that often they were made to admire him; for, in his Master's concerns, he spoke as one having authority, yet without the least evidence of rancour or irritation.'

James Nimmo remained with Park till December 1681, when he left him, finding that he had 'no freedom to engage with cesses, and militia, and in paying kirkmen,' which his position as overseer required him to do. The payment of cess was a tax particularly distasteful to the Presbyterians of those days, as it was levied for the express purpose of keeping up troops to coerce their own party. He now entered into an engagement with Brodie of Lethen, to manage his affairs, and thus describes his entrance into his new home: The night I went there, being under some weights, my ordinary reading was Ps. xxxvii., and I met with some comfort from it, and the more that the laird that night caused sing a part of that psalm. Yet, partly through weights in my mind, and partly by unacquaintedness in the family, I was somewhat cast down, and attained to little freedom therefrom for some weeks.'

His friends in Moray now strongly recommended James to take to himself a wife. They even took the trouble to select one for him, and pointed out 'one Elizabeth Brodie, a gentlewoman of good friends, and truly pious,' a character well borne out, both by her life and her own writings. She was of the family of Brodie of Brodie, a cousin of Brodie of Lethen;

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and it speaks well for the estimation in which James Nimmo was held, that he met with nothing but kindness from her relations. He made a journey to the south, at great risk, to consult his father, and finding him not refractive,' and the lady herself being 'not refractive,' the matter was at last settled. Her father was dead, but her friends, 'Brodie, Lethen, Windyhills, and Maine, with her eldest brother John, and Milltown,' held a meeting with him to arrange the contract, and it was subscribed. But a difficulty arose anent our being proclaimed at the church by the Episcopal precentor, the which to do neither of us had freedom for; and after trying of several outed ministers to marry us without proclamation, they refused out of fear of danger. Yet blessed Mr. Hogg, though under bond to answer the king's council when called, condescended to do it, seeing others had refused, and appointed Monday morning, December 4th, for that end, where I advertised some godly friends to be witnesses, where at Mr. Hogg's own house it was solemnized, and the Lord evidenced his presence to the conviction of severals. . Now, having been married privately, both for our own, and blessed Mr. Hogg's own safety, after taking a small refreshment with him, we parted and went home, . . . . and continued living at a distance, upon the former reason, for some months.'

James had foreseen the difficulties attendant on his marriage, and our readers may be glad to be spared the perusal of the many pages of his diary, which are filled with his anxieties and misgivings on this subject. This makes it the more wonderful that his friends, and especially 'blessed Mr. Hogg,' should have so strongly urged him to matrimony, which was certainly not in accordance with the advice of St. Paul in times of persecution. Elizabeth Brodie proved an excellent wife, however, and bore her part nobly in the trials of their lot, both at home and during their subsequent years of exile abroad, as we may perhaps have an opportunity of illustrating by extracts from her diary, which forms the counterpart of that of her husband.

About this time a fresh impulse seemed to be given to the persecution, and as Nimmo's principles were well known, he was no longer safe in Moray. In this, as in all his concerns, he recognised a hand beyond that of man. It seemed the Lord did see a need be to force me out of that place, to which my affections were several ways engaged; but both friends' fear of themselves and of me, made them wish me out of it, for Giddy Mackenzie, with his company of foot, was coming

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north to put the laws, which were iniquitous, to vigorous execution by military force.

'I desired to plead the Lord would clear up my way, and thought I wan to some submission to his will, to go wherever He called me, if He would go with me. But oh! there is often a flaw in our faith, and in our submission. I desired to lay out several plans before Him; but still no clearness where to go, but only to himself to rely, plead, and wait.

On Wednesday the 11th March 1683, I went east to Pluscardine again' (where his wife lived), and in some few days after met with several things, as it were, forcing me from that place. First, two of Giddy Mackenzie's sentinels were coming to my mother-in-law's house, and a boy came running in and told it. I was suddenly advertised thereof, and coming down stairs I put on the boy's bonnet, and slipt out towards ane auld abbacie that was hard by, and when I was there I thought fit to slip into an old vault, and deliberate what to do. I was but a little there till the two soldiers came to the door of that same vault, and righted the works of their muskets; but that place of the vault was dark where I was, that they saw not me, but I them, and I put my hand upon my cravat lest it had appeared white and discovered me. But they went away, and in a little thereafter a servantmaid of my mother-in-law's came to the door where I was, and I called to her, and asked where the soldiers were. She told me they were gone into a change-house. I desired her quickly to be gone, and in a little I resolved to go out, and walked straight forward from the house, and I was hardly well out till the soldiers came after me. But I resolved to keep them at some distance, and walked forward about a mile, they still coming after me. At length I cast a hill betwixt them and me, and returned another way.

The thing that made me more concerned at this time was, some days before, blessed Mr. Hogg had sent his godly servant, William Balloch, seven or eight miles express to desire me to take care of myself, for my Lord Doune, and Kilravock, with some others, being at a ball in Kilravock House, Doune was heard by the servant that was serving them to swear, that if I was in Moray, he would secure me in prison, which I was not willing of seeing. Then there was nothing for me but death or sinful compliance.'

Soon after this he left Moray. But we reserve the account of his journey south, and other adventures, to a future chapter.

FAITH.

questions, to test her knowledge of the Scriptures, and the strength and depth of her piety. At last he asked, ‘Janet, what if God, after all He has done, should break his promise, and drop you into hell?' The poor woman promptly replied: 'Let Him do e'en as He likes. If He does, He'll lose mair than I do!'

It would be hard for any one to go beyond this in right conceptions of the faithfulness of God.