HUNTED ON THE MOORS. PASSAGES FROM THE TRADITIONS OF THE COVENANTERS. CHAPTER IX.-IN WHICH IS RELATED HOW ARTHUR ALLAN WAS BANISHED, WRECKED, AND AT LAST MURDERED. As Gilbert and Grizzy sat one evening by their warm hearth at the Miny, two visitors entered. One was well known, and had already shared with Gilbert the penalties of being found at a Conventicle. The other was a man in the prime of life. He was tall and 'buirdly' in his make, with an open and generous countenance. His plaid was over his shoulders, and a sturdy staff was in his hand. A smile played on his face, as he stood eying the snug family circle which appeared to have forgotten him. Grizzy gazed for a moment, and then exclaimed Arthur Allan ?' 'Arthur Allan;' cried Gilbert; 'where are my eyes that I dinna ken you? O Arthur, many a weary thought hae I had about you, but I tynt the track o' ye a'thegither. Where hae ye been? Sit ye down, and tell us a'.' The invitation was at once accepted. Allan sat down, and proceeded to satisfy their natural curiosity. After referring to his parents, who were dear friends of Gilbert's, he thus proceeded to speak about himself: 'When my parents were dead, I left Minygaff, and resolved once more to visit the old Ayrshire farm on which my father had managed with great industry to save a little money. I came. No one knew me. The old families had all been driven away by the persecution. I next sought out this place, but you also were gone. My heart sank within me. I seemed alone in the world, and in my loneliness I said with the Psalmist, Lover and friend hast Thou put far from me, and mine acquaintance into darkness. The Highland host was then ravaging the west, and I had enough to do to keep out of their way. I remained, now in concealment, and now in service in a pious household till the rising at Bothwell began. I joined the Covenanting forces, and fought. Thirteen hundred were taken prisoners — myself among the number. We were marched to Edinburgh, and subjected to much ill-usage on the way. The clothes were stripped off our persons, and, half-naked, we were placed as state prisoners in the Greyfriar's churchyard. If we had been the greatest miscreants on the earth our treatment could not have been worse. Pent in a small enclosure in the churchyard, we were guarded night and day by soldiers. At night we were compelled to lie down flat on the ground, and if anyone happened to raise his head, he was fired at by the sentinels. Our food was scanty, our clothes insufficient to protect us from the weather, and the Christian friends who sought to relieve us were rudely repulsed. After a long season of confinement and cruelty in this wretched state, 250 were drafted from the crowd, and sentenced to be transported to Barbadoes. On the 15th November, early in the morning, and before our friends had time to learn it-we were taken out of the churchyard. About thirty were dangerously ill with a flux and other distempers," the effects of ill-usage, but no pity was shown them. We embarked at Leith, and now began a series of barbarities which cannot be adequately described. We were stowed under deck in so narrow a space that the most part of us were obliged to stand in order to give room to those who were sickly and apparently dying. The air was stifling, for 257 were packed into a space barely sufficient for a hundred. Many fainted. Others were sick. The sailors behaved with the greatest inhumanity. The quantity the boot, which a man drove in with a large mallet till the bone within this instrument was compressed and crushed in the most frightful manner. The shrieks of the person writhing under the agony of this diabolical instrument were unendurable. And yet the monsters who sat at the Council laughed, and winked, and jeered; and none enjoyed the scene more than the Duke of York.' The account of Arthur Allan's friend is confirmed in every particular by the treatment received from the hands of the Council by Hugh Mackail. of bread doled out was reduced, | were inserted between the limb and and no drink was allowed. After we had sailed from Leith we met with very severe storms. In December we were off the Orkneys, and in a very dangerous sea. We came nearer the shore and cast anchor. The prisoners begged to be put on shore, and taken to any prison. This the captain-who was a Papist-refused. The hatches were nailed down by his orders, that no prisoner might escape. About ten o'clock at night the ship was torn from her anchor by a violent gust of wind, and being forced upon a rock, broke in the middle. The seamen lowered the main mast, and laying it between the broken ship and the rock, quickly got ashore. The poor prisoners cried vehemently to be released from the hold, but the sailors would not even open the hatches. Some who did escape from the hold were driven back by the captain and the sailors into the boiling sea; others were more successful. Fifty, myself among them, got safe to land; but about 200 were drowned.' Arthur Allan's narrative thrilled his eager listeners, who offered him a permanent home beneath their roof. Arthur also confirmed the rumours Gilbert and his wife had heard of the cruelties practised by the council at Edinburgh. 'An acquaintance of mine,' said Allan, who was brought before that tribunal, told me that he was subjected to the most infamous tortures. He had first to bear the thumbkins, and then the bootkins. His thumbs were placed in a sort of iron vice, which was screwed so hard that the bones crashed within the instrument, and the blood and marrow spouted out, and so intense were his sufferings that he fainted away. He was sent back to prison, where he lay several weeks. As his tormentors could get nothing criminative from him, they applied the bootkins, which were ten-fold more excruciating than the thumbkins. These boots were of iron, adjusted to the leg, and the wedges Days passed away, and Arthur found the Miny both safe and pleasant. Geordy Ga' had deserted the troopers and joined the little company, and Eddie was now a permanent guest. Gilbert and Grizzy cared for Arthur as their own child, which affection he was not slow to return. None of them suspected how near his end was. He One day Arthur went to a Conventicle held in the upper wilds of the Afton. A company of troopers accidentally fell upon them. Arthur fled, for some distance successfully; but his strength failed him. sank exhausted on the moss, and the troopers soon made him their prisoner. It was agreed to shoot him on the spot. At once he was ordered to prepare. He knelt down and offered a fervent prayer to his Father in heaven, and then arose upon his feet and stood undaunted and erect. They bade him pull his bonnet over his face, but he replied, ‘I am not ashamed of what I have done, and I am not afraid to meet death as a witness for Jesus Christ and His precious truth.' He uncovered his head, grasped his Bible firmly, gazed upward to heaven, his lips moving in silent prayer. The word was given- Fire! The flash and the report instantly followed. The martyr lay dead on the heath. Two shepherds overheard the report, and seeing the troopers march away from the place whence the sound came, they hurried Geordy Ga' and the Trooper. 447 forward. They found a man lying sheet. Her poor heart was ready dead in a pool of blood. The nearest to break as she saw the dear lad house was the Miny. They came lying slaughtered on the moor. thither, briefly told their tale. The last rites were tearfully perGilbert and his friends hastened formed by her, and the body was to the spot. No words can describe then lowered into the mossy trench their uncontrollable grief when they and filled up. When nothing more saw that the dead man was poor remained to be done, the mourners Arthur. It was at first proposed to sat down in a circle, and gave way carry his corpse to the Miny; but at to a flood of tears. That night sadlength it was agreed to bury him ness marked every face that gathered where he fell. Sandy fetched a spade, by the Miny fire. Arthur was gone. and Grizzy brought out one of Who would be the next?' her best blankets as a winding CHAPTER X.-HOW GEORDY GA' WORSTED THE TROOPER, AND GOT VALUABLE INFORMATION. THE CONCLUSION. GEORDY GA' and Eddie now became | You understand? surrendered. And now, Ringan,' said Geordy, 'I will let you go. We have been companions in iniquity. We are so no longer. I exhort you to repent.' The trooper paid little heed to Geordy's exhortations; but for his own credit's sake he determined to say nothing about this encounter when he returned. Do you remember old Eddie ? ' said Ringan. Well, if you meet him, put him on his guard. Crichton suspects him of treachery, and will no longer treat him as before. Tell him if you see him to keep his douce cuddie and his pawky self out of sight for a season. And then there's that silly whining creature, the farmer at the Miny, he's suspected with the rest. Tell him to keep his premises clear of poachers. And Geordy let me tell you Crichton has two spies in his pay: one has a squint in his left eye, and red hair, and passes himself off as Patrick Laing, of Blagannoch. The other is a pedlar. He has a deep scar in his chin, got in a drunken quarrel. He comes creeping in with his pack, and in a timid sort of way tries to bespeak the favour of the mistress. He generally comes towards dusk, and seeks a lodging. These are the only two spies now on the alert. I tell you, Geordy, for I know you wont betray an old friend.' After further conversation, Ringan left. His information proved invaluable. That very night the sleek pedlar was beaten off by the adroitness of Gilbert, who had been made acquainted with his character. The boy Sandy was despatched hither and thither to warn the various families of the false Patrick and the pedlar. But what was to be done at the Miny? How was the 'douce cuddie' to be hidden? Geordy proposed that as the old cuddie grazing about would attract attention, it had better be killed. Eddie opposed. It was agreed at length to imprison it in the Auchty-the old vault being dreaded by Crichton and his party as a dolorous and haunted place. Not long after increased caution became necessary at the Miny. Claverhouse had come into the neighbourhood, and was making a diligent search of every cottage and farm-steading. Sandy was therefore appointed as a sentinel in the day: but who was to watch at night ? Presently the searching party came in the direction of the Miny. The whole inmates, except Grizzy, fled to the haunted vault. When the troopers came they searched about, and finding nobody, were about to retreat. Some of the troopers said they had found an old vault, and suggested that they should search that. Cochrane and Ringan, who were guiding the party, exchanged looks. Remembering a former attempt to explore it, a shudder passed over them as they recalled the hideous sights and sounds associated with the Auchty. Cruel men are often superstitious. These men feared as they thought of these omnious things. Others, less timid, laughed at their fears, and proposed to begin their search. They hastened to the mouth of the vault with a courage that very soon limped. Eddie's donkey hearing footsteps began to bray, and his voice roared and resounded like thunder, or the din of twenty gongs all playing at once. The bats fluttered wildly over their heads. The searchers halted in terror, and fled. The vault was unmolested ever afterwards. The persecution now began to flag, partly through the want of victims, and partly through more lenient measures devised by the king. His lenience, however, was only adopted the more securely to gain his own end-there-introduction of Popery, that masterpiece of the devil's invention. A few words, and our work is done. The inmates of the Miny lived to a green old age, and prospered in their worldly matters. Eddie still remained at the house which had afforded him shelter and comfort so long and preceded his friends to the tomb. He was buried, according to his wish, in the moorland with the martyrs. No stone marks his resting-place. His poor donkey, which strolled about the moor, was found dead on the day of his master's funeral. Geordy became a substantial farmer, and maintained his consistency as a Covenanter. He lived far on in the century that succeeded the persecution. Peter Corsan and Sarah, dear old friends of Gilbert and Grizzy, were spared to talk over by the hearth-fire in better times the persecutions and dangers of the past. John and Willie, of Lesmahagow, were blessed in their surviving years. The upland people who lived in the localities which have been mentioned in these Passages' cherished the memory of their ancestors with the warmest interest, and to this day the people of the district point out the spots which have been hallowed by the fidelity, the patience, and the martrydom of their forefathers. The substance of these Sketches may be found in the admirable but indigested materials given in Dr. Simpson's 'MARTYRLAND.' H ARMINIUS: A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. CHAPTER VIII.-HIS LAST DEFENCE, AND DEATH. the consequences would be fatal. By careful treatment, however, and the blessing of God, he was yet again permitted to recover his health, and return to his duties. The conflict went on. The tenets of the high predestinarian school were openly discussed not only in the universities and the pulpits of Hoiland, but in the market-places, and in the corners of the streets. Mistakes were freely made; the opinions of Gomar were assigned to Arminius, and those of Arminius to Gomar; and the chief points at issue were sometimes altogether missed. To inform the public mind and direct its decision, the disputation of the Professors on 'predestination,' was published; pamphlets also appeared for and against the views of each champion. Moreover, the friends of Arminius translated several of his Latin treatises, and sent them forth far and wide. Thus the flame of discord was fanned, and the spirit of controversy burned more fiercely every day. AMID continuous labours, patient | His friends were alarmed, and feared study, and irritating contentions, the health of Arminius at last broke down. Two months after the appearance of Gomar alone before the assembly of the States of Holland, Arminius was prostrate from affliction. His recovery was slow, but in less than six months sufficiently complete to allow of his resuming the duties of the professorship. Evidence of his renewed vigour is seen in the disputation held in the summer of 1609, upon the call of men to salvation.' On this, as on other occasions, Arminius stated his opinions plainly and without hesitation. He denied that in the moral crisis called conversion, God exerts an irresistible and necessitating force upon the soul, and he maintained that either God supplies, or He is ready to bestow, the power to perform that to which in His call He invites mankind. This was an important discussion. Gomar was present and took notes, muttering now and then his disapprobation, and once audibly exclaiming, 'What impudence is this?' At the close, as he reached the door of the room, he said, 'The reins have been remarkably well loosened for the Papacy to-day.' In a conversation which followed Gomar promised publicly to refute the position of Arminius, and Arminius denying that he had advanced anything in favour of the Papacy, said, 'Let us test each other in due time; to me it is certain that the opinion of an irresistible force will be found repugnant alike to the sacred Scripture, to antiquity, and to our Confession and Catechism.' The excitement of this disputation was too great for the still delicate state of the health of Arminius. He repaired on the following day to Oudewater, with a view in his native air to recruit his strength. On his arrival he suffered a serious relapse. Again the States interposed, soliciting another conference before their assembly between Gomar and Arminius. Their request was promptly obeyed. Four ministers were chosen on each side to aid the disputants by their counsels, and the second great tilt of words took place. Some days were consumed in trivial objections started by Gomar, first, as to one of supporters of Arminius, then as to the order of the subjects to be considered, and then as to the fitness of the tribunal itself. The States overruled the objections, and refused to sustain the appeal of Gomar to an ecclesiastical court, urging him to dismiss his quibbles. The conditions of the conference were then agreed upon. It was to be conducted viva voce and afterwards committed to writing, that the whole matter might be reserved |