taken a prisoner, marched into Edinburgh, with the bloody head of Cameron carried before him, and shortly afterwards condemned to death, with accompaniments which revolt every sentiment of humanity, and make us believe that Scotland was yet in the depths of barbarism. First his right hand, and then his left, was cut off. He was then hanged, but cut down before life was extinct; and his heart, still palpitating, torn from his bosom, and held up to the people as the heart of a traitor.1

Donald Cargill now alone remained to bear up the banner of the Covenant. Though persecuted, he was not forsaken. He suddenly appeared in different parts of the country; the faithful few rallied around him, and he preached to them those thrilling sermons about a perjured king, a broken Covenant, and a sinful land, which their souls loved. In the month of October a larger assemblage than usual gathered around him at Torwood in Stirlingshire; and after one of his characteristic sermons, the dauntless Covenanter solemnly excommunicated, and delivered over to the devil, the King, the Duke of York, the Duke of Lauderdale, General Dalziel, Sir George Mackenzie, and some others, for their breach of Covenant and persecution of God's people.2 Many regard this as simply ludicrous-a hair-brained fanatic, fed upon the husks of Old Testament history, and rendered savage by the savage life which he led, venting his impotent curses upon the Lord's anointed. Others imagine it verges upon the sublime-a solitary wanderer, but of earnest mind, strong in the righteousness of his cause, strong in the conviction that his anathemas pronounced on earth would be ratified in heaven, giving over wicked men, though high and mighty, to God's just judgments. They think they see in it a counterpart to Martin Luther's burning the Pope's bull at the gates of Wittemberg. It is certain that in a little while Donald Cargill died on the scaffold, and Charles II. died in his bed; but yet a little while again, and the Stewarts were driven from the throne, and the principles of the Covenanters, shorn of their extravagances, triumphed.

1 See the Cloud of Witnesses. Also Wodrow, vol. iii. The skirmish at Airsmoss has been celebrated in verses full of poetic genius, written by a shepherd lad.

2 The form of this extraordinary anathema is to be found in the Appendix to the Cloud of Witnesses. Both Wodrow and the "Cloud" make the Torwood meeting held in September; but the royal proclamation, issued in consequence of it, speaks of it as having been held in October. For a copy of the proclamation, see Wodrow, vol. iii. pp. 229, 230.

A.D. 1681.

In the year 1681 the Duke of York came down to Scotland. He had a purpose in coming. His conversion to Popery was no longer a secret, and the English House of Commons more than once had passed a bill to cut off his succession to the throne, and it was only the opposition of the king and the peers which had prevented it from becoming law. It was confidently anticipated that the ever-tractable parliament of Scotland would show an example of passive obedience to the Commons of England. On the 28th of July the Estates assembled at Edinburgh, and the Duke of York took his place as the representative of Majesty. Their first act, according to custom, was for securing the Protestant religion as then established. Their second act seemed to be made in mockery of the first. It was anent the succession to the imperial crown. It asserted that the kings of the realm derived their royal power from God Almighty alone; that they succeeded to it by lineal descent; that no difference of religion, that no acts of parliament, could alter the succession; and that any one who gainsaid this was guilty of high treason. Thus the old uncompromising Protestantism of the nation succumbed before the Divine right of kings.

These acts were followed by another, which, under the plea of securing the peace of the country, enacted new rigours against the frequenters of conventicles. But the act which made the greatest noise was known as the Test Act. It required every person who held a public office, from the privy councillor down to the exciseman, to swear that he owned the true Protestant religion as explained in the Confession of 1567; that he acknowledged the king to be supreme in all causes and over all persons, both civil and ecclesiastical; that he would never consult about any matter of State without his Majesty's express license or command; and never endeavour any alteration in the government of the country. The parliament showed that patriotism had long since left the house where they sat by passing this act, and dooming the country to oriental despotism.

1

The act strikes with impartial severity both Papists and Presbyterians. But it soon appeared that it was to be put in execution only against the latter. The royal family was specially excluded, although it was argued that the faith of the king was of infinitely more importance to the welfare of the

1 Acts of the Scotch Parliament, Charles II., August 1681.

nation than that of the subject. There were Papists both in the civil and military departments, and they were little troubled; but we shall soon find the test made a terrible engine of oppression against the unhappy Presbyterians.

But this was not all. There were difficulties which had not been anticipated. The Confession of 1567 had long lain neglected, but people now began to look into it, and the Episcopalians found several things in it which they did not like. Some even said that one clause contemplated the possibility of resistance to royal authority, as might have been expected from the men who framed it, and that thus the oath was self-contradictory. Of course it was not to be expected that the rigid Presbyterians could acknowledge the king's supremacy in ecclesiastical causes; but the Episcopalians stumbled at the same thing. The royal prerogative might very properly be employed in overturning Presbyterianism, but it might not be put forth to meddle with Episcopacy. Had not the bishops their sees jure divino, just as the king had his throne? Politicians had objections of another kind. If they swore, as they were required, never to attempt any alteration in the government either of the Church or State, how could parliament exercise its functions-how could it pass even a single act?

act of

The opposition of the clergy became so formidable that an explanation tending to smooth down difficulties, proposed by the Bishop of Edinburgh, was converted into an Council, and received the sanction of the king. This satisfied some, who forthwith took the test. Others, however, argued that the explanation was inconsistent with the test, and that no act of Council could alter the obvious meaning of words. Nearly eighty of the clergy remained firm, and left their parishes rather than take an oath which their consciences condemned.3

The Earl of Argyll delayed as long as possible taking the test; and when he could put off no longer, he prefaced it by a statement, that he took it only in so far as it was consistent with itself and with the Protestant religion, and that he did

1 The clause referred to is in chapter xxiv., Of the Civil Magistrate. It runs "Therefore we confess and avow that such as resist the supreme powers (doing that which pertaineth to their charge) do resist God's ordinance, and therefore cannot be guiltless." The parenthesis was thought to put a limit upon the magistrate's power and the subject's obedience.

2 Wodrow's Hist., vol. iii. p. 309.

3 Burnet's Hist., vol. ii.

not understand it as precluding him from attempting, in a lawful way, any alteration in Church or State, which might be in accordance with his loyalty and religion. This explanation was accepted at the time, and by the invitation of the Duke of York he resumed his seat at the council-table; but a few days afterwards he was committed to the Castle of Edinburgh, charged with treason, for having given to a statute a meaning which parliament did not intend that it should bear. When his the libel was relevant-in other words, that the explanation trial came on, the judges, by a majority of one, found that which Argyll had given of his oath was treason; and as he did not attempt to deny the fact, he was found guilty.1 He fled to Holland; but the abuse of law, the disregard of managed, however, to escape from the castle in disguise, and decency in his trial, made a deep impression on the public mind, long accustomed though it had been to see the courts of justice prostituted to the purposes of oppression. know nothing of the Scotch law," said Halifax to King Charles; "but this I know, that we should not hang a dog here on the grounds

tenced." 2

A.D. 1682.

"I

on which my Lord Argyll has been sen

In January 1682, about fifty of the unflinching Cameronians entered the town of Lanark, with

Cross of Edinburgh.

arms in their hands, published a declaration of their peculiar opinions, and burned the Test and Succession Acts. The Council, apparently copying their example, a few days afterwards burned the Solemn League and Covenant, together with the Rutherglen, Sanquhar, and Lanark Declarations, at the In the month of May the Duke of York returned to England, and the bishops and the Council vied with each other in loading him with adulation. He went, but the blessings of e country did not go with him. His harsh and imperious temper, independently of his religious belief, made him to be disliked. It had been observed that when poor wretches were tortured before the Council, while the other Councillors fled

the

from the

room,

if some curious experiments were being made.3

the duke kept his seat and looked on, just as

During the years 1682 and 1683, the lawless soldiery con

tinued to harass the country.

They carried terror amid the

quiet dwellers in the villages, they pillaged farmhouses, they

1 Wodrow, vol. iii. pp, 312-39. See also Burnet, vol. ii.

Lord Macaulay's Hist., vol. ii. p. 115.

3 Burnet's Hist., vol. ii.

traversed the loneliest moors. Armed with almost irresponsible powers, the worst passions of human nature were developed within them; accustomed to act as the agents of government in exacting free quarters, levying fines, and securing prisoners, they imagined themselves entitled to do just as they pleased; and the people in general, though scandalised by their licentiousness and blasphemies, and burning under a sense of wrong, submitted to their extortions and insults, knowing how dangerous it was to give them offence. Strange stories, however, were told of their great wickedness; of how, in their drunken revels, they sometimes personated devils, called each other by satanic names, and caricatured the punishments of hell.1

Conspicuous among the persecutors of the unhappy Presbyterians was John Grahame of Claverhouse. We have already seen him defeated at Drumclog; but he afterwards attempted to wipe out the disgrace at Bothwell, where he commanded a troop of cavalry, and cut down the fugitives without mercy, as they fled from the field. Raised to the dignity of a Privy Councillor for his services, we now find him scouring the west country, and acquiring his unenviable renown, as a persecutor of the saints. His chief work consisted in dispersing field-preachings, marching reluctant Presbyterians to the Episcopal Church, ferretting out conscientious peasants who would not take the Abjuration Oath, and hanging them on a tree or blowing their brains out with a pistol— sometimes with his own hand. In his letters he boasts that on his approach the people fled from their houses and hid themselves, that no suspected person lay in his bed within forty miles of where he was, and that where he read the lists every Sunday after sermon few were found absent, so completely had he dragooned them into conformity. He is said to have been of a slim figure, with almost feminine features, and graceful manners; but the wanderers whom he hunted on the hills represented him as a monster rather than a man. Bullets were said to rebound harmless from his body, which was believed to be sold to the devil; and the very horse which he rode was supposed to possess a charmed life. His apologists say that his rigour resulted not from any cruelty of nature, but from his Royalist principles. But surely an officer, even under Charles and James, might be loyal without being inhuman. It is certain he was hot-tempered, cold-hearted,

1 Wodrow's History, vol. iv. p. 242.