Hog said, Sir, it is not curiosity that prompts me to ask, but I hope to be enlarged, and then I shall account it my duty to call for you at your dwelling in this city, for I suppose you are a citizen in London. The other replied, You must ask me no more questions, but _be faithful to the death, and thou shalt have a crown of life_. Then he retired, and Mr. Hog never saw nor heard of any him more. When Mr. Hog opened the paper, there were five pounds sterling in it, which to the good man was sweeter than if he had got 1000 pounds settled on him yearly[241].

After he was set at liberty, being at London in the year 1685. when the duke of Monmouth landed in England, and Argyle in Scotland, he plainly told some of his acquaintance, That G.o.d would never honour any of these men to be instruments of our deliverance. And much about the same time, some protestants at court, knowing he was in the city, and that he was endued with a prophetic spirit, drew king James's attention so far, that he wanted Mr. Hog should be consulted concerning affairs at that juncture. This being communicated to him, he concealed his mind, till he consulted the Lord by prayer. In the mean time he made ready for his departure, and then told them (what he charged them to report to him faithfully) That if king James had seriously adhered to the principles of our holy reformed religion, his throne should have been established in righteousness, and if he would yet turn from popery matters might be well with him, but if otherwise the land would spue him out. When this was reported, the king ordered he should be speedily apprehended, but he, having foreseen this, eschewed it by a speedy flight to Holland.

When in Holland, he was soon introduced to the prince of Orange, who had him in great esteem, and therefore let him into the secret of his resolution to deliver these nations from popery and tyranny. In the indulgence Mr. Hog agreed with worthy Mr. M'Ward and Mr. Brown, yet was far from clearness to withdraw from all presbyterian[242] ministers, who either had not taken the benefit of the indulgence, or those exposed to suffering notwithstanding the same.

Mr. Hog returned to Scotland _anno_ 1688. where he stayed till 1691.; that his old parishioners, finding the way cleared, sent commissioners to accompany him back to his parish of Killearn; where he was received with great joy in June or July that year. But his const.i.tution being broken, he was unable to discharge his function much in public after that; however his conversation became still more heavenly. King William as a reward to his merit, resolving to have this good man near him, sent him a commission to be one of his chaplains, which was no mean evidence of his esteem for him, and the truth of his prediction concerning him.

But before ever that honour was bestowed upon him, he was seized with the trouble, or rather the complication of troubles, whereof he died.

His sickness was considerably long, and accompanied with great pain. One time his judicious servant, hearing the heavy moans he made, asked, Whether it was soul or bodily pain that extorted such heavy groans from him? To which he composedly replied, No soul trouble, man, for a hundred and a hundred times my Lord hath a.s.sured me that I shall be with him for ever, but I am making moan for my body. And thereupon entertained him agreeably concerning the Lord's purging away sin from his own children, Isa. xxvii. 9. At another time he said, Pity me, O ye my friends, and do not pray for my life; you see I have a complication of diseases upon me; allow me to go to my eternal rest. And then with deep concern of soul he cried, Look, O my G.o.d, upon mine affliction, and forgive all my sins.

And yet, says his servant, never was his conversation more heavenly and spiritual, than when thus chastised. Toward his end he was much feasted with our Saviour's comfortable message to his disciples, John xx. 17. _I ascend to my Father, and to your father; and to my G.o.d, and your G.o.d._ To the writer of some remarkable pa.s.sages of his life he said, He could not give a look to the Lord, but he was persuaded of his everlasting love. And to Mr. Stuart (who succeeded him in that place) at another time he said, Never did the sun in the firmament shine more brightly to the eyes of my body, than Christ the Sun of Righteousness hath shined on my soul. "And some time after," (continues the same writer), "when I understood he was very low, I made him my last visit; and when I asked him how he did, he answered, The unchangeableness of my G.o.d is my rock.

Upon Sabbath evening, for I stayed with him that week, when I came from the church, his speech was unintelligible to me, but his servant desired me to pray, and commit his soul and body to G.o.d. After prayer I retired a little, and when I returned, I found all present in tears at his dissolution, especially his wife and his faithful servant William Bulloch." Mr. James Hog and the forementioned writer of the remarkable pa.s.sages add, That Mr. Thomas Hog had many times foretold that his Lord and husband was coming; so in the end he cried out, "Now he is come, my Lord is come, praise, praises to him for ever more. Amen." And with these words death closed his eyes, upon the 4th day of Jan. 1692, being about 60 years old.

Mr. Hog was of a tall stature, but more remarkable for his courage and fort.i.tude of mind; he was most temperate in his diet and sleep.

Gluttony, he said, is a great incentive to l.u.s.t, and rising betimes is not only good for the health, but best adapted for study, wherein he took great pleasure. His more serious work, his necessary diversions, as visiting of friends, &c. and even meaner things were all gone about by the rule of duty. He was sought unto by many for his good and faithful advices, and in prayer he was most solemn and fervent, the profoundest reverence, the lowest submission, and yet a marvelous boldness and intimacy with G.o.d attended his engagements in this exercise. It might truly be said of him as of Luther when he prayed. It was with so much reverence as if he was praying to G.o.d, and with so much boldness as if he had been speaking to his friend. And though the Lord did not bless him with natural children, he gave him the powerful a.s.surance of that promise, Isa. lvi. 5. _I will give thee a name better than of sons and daughters_, which he signally fulfilled to him in making him the instrument of begetting many sons and daughters to the Lord.

_The Life of Mr. ROBERT FLEMING._

Mr. Robert Fleming was born at Bathens _anno_ 1630. He was son to Mr.

James Fleming minister of the gospel there, who, being a very G.o.dly and religious man, took great care of his son's education; and for that purpose sent him first to the college of Edinburgh, where he ran through the course of philosophy with great applause, and made great progress in the learned languages. Then being translated to St. Andrews, he pa.s.sed his course of theology in that university under the conduct of worthy Mr. Rutherford.

His natural parts bring very great, his understanding quick and penetrative, his judgment clear and profound, his fancy rich, his memory strong, and expressions masculine, they did with such a grace take with them who were not acquainted with his accents or idioms, and to all these his acquired learning was answerable, the culture of which he, through the divine blessing, improved with great diligence. History, the eye of learning, he singularly affected, especially sacred history, the right eye. But to him all history was sacred, seeing he considered G.o.d's actions more than man's therein. Nor did he value any man, but for the knowledge of G.o.d, wherewith he himself was so much acquainted; for his conversion to G.o.d was very early.

Before he was full 23 years old, he was called to a pastoral charge, and was settled therein at Cambuslang in the shire of Clydesdale, where he served the Lord in the ministry, till after the restoration of Charles II. when that storm arose that drove out so many, and particularly that act (commonly called the Glasgow act) whereby near 400 faithful ministers were ejected, of whom the world was not worthy.

He had taken to wife Christiana Hamilton, justly famed for her person, gifts and graces. By her he had seven children, and with them and himself, sweetly committed unto his G.o.d's provision, he humbly received the honour of his ejection. Of the children the Lord received three of them to himself, before their mother, and two of them died afterward; the other two survived their father for some time. As for his worldly substance, his share seemed according to Agur's desire, and with Luther he said, To his knowledge he never desired much of it, or was very careful for or about it; for during the most tragical days, his table was spread and cup filled, and his head anointed with fresh oil, his children were liberally educated, and in his work he was profusely rich; but of his own laying up he had no treasure but in heaven. His own testimony of his life was this, It was once made up of seeming contrarieties, great outward trouble and great inward comfort, and I never found (said he) more comfort than when under most affliction.

For some time after his ejection, he lived mostly at Edinburgh, Fife and other places until Sept. 1673, that all the ministers in and about Edinburgh being called to appear before the council to hear their sentence, to repair unto the places of their confinement; but he and some others not appearing were ordered to be apprehended wherever they could be found. Which made him shift as well as he could for some time, till he was at last apprehended and imprisoned in the tolbooth of Edinburgh, where he was during the time of Bothwel battle. A little after he was, with some others, called before the council, and tho' they were willing to find bail for their appearance when called, yet because they refused to live peaceably, and not to rise against the king or any authorized by him, they were remanded to prison. However he was liberated[243] and went to Holland, where, after the death of the famous and faithful Mr. Brown, he was admitted minister of the Scots congregation at Rotterdam.

And here again his activity in the ministry was such as was to be expected from such a large soul, comprehensive of the interest of G.o.d and his church. What a writer he was need not here be told, but in preaching he might be called a Boanerges and Barnabas also for converse, and for all things useful. What might Cambuslang testify of him! What might Edinburgh and adjacent places, where, after his ejection, he lived and laboured? What might Rotterdam say, where, from the year 1679, till towards his end, he was a most bright and shining light? There was no time wherein we may suppose that he had no good design going on. It is well known that the sun of his life did set on an excellent design, which was, of sending forth a treatise concerning the ways of the Holy Ghost's working upon the souls of men, &c.

As he was religious, so he was said to be of a peaceable and friendly disposition, as not affecting controversy much, so that when speaking of the differences amongst some brethren, he would say, I am amazed to see good men thus tear one another in the dark, nor can I understand how they should have grace in a lively exercise, who value their own particular designs above the interest of the catholic church, &c. Nor is it to be forgot what he said to one of his own begotten sons in the faith, I bless G.o.d (said he) that in 15 years time I have never given any man's credit a thrust behind his back, but when I had ground to speak well of any man, I did so with faithfulness, and when I wanted a subject that way, I kept silence.

And according to his practice, his life was a life of worship extraordinary. His solemn dedication of himself to his G.o.d was frequent; his soliloquies with him almost perpetual; as spending his days and years after this manner, in order to which we find it was his custom from the 15th or 16th year of his age, to set apart the first day of every year for renewing his covenant with G.o.d; or if interrupted that day, to take the next day following. For the first years of his life we cannot give any particular account of the manner of his doing this; but we may guess what they have been, from the few instances following.

1691. In the entry of this new year, (as I have now done for many years most solemnly) I desire again to renew my personal engaging of myself to the Lord my G.o.d, and for him, and with my whole heart and desire to enter myself into his service, and take on his blessed yoke, and humbly to lay claim, take and embrace him (O him!) to be my G.o.d, my all, my light and my salvation, my shield and exceeding great reward. _Whom have I in heaven but thee, O Lord, or in the earth whom I desire besides thee?_ And now under thy blessed hand my soul desires, and does here testify my trusting myself and securing my whole interest, my credit, my conduct, my comfort, my a.s.sistance, and my poor children and to leave myself herein on thy gracious hand, on my dearest Lord, whilst in time, as I write this the 2d day of January 1691.

R. FLEMING.

1692. In the entry and first day of this new year, that I desire as formerly to enter (in this hidden record) a new surrender and offering of myself to my dear Lord and Master, who hath been wonderfully tender and gracious to me, and hath brought me by his immediate conduct through the days and years of my pilgrimage past, hath still cared for his poor servant, and given more singular mercies and evidences of respect than to many else; and now, as still formerly, hath taken me through this last year with singular evidences of his presence and a.s.sistance, and as I trusted myself to my Lord, so he hath graciously answered; for which and his special grace hitherto, I desire to insert this witness of my soul's blessing the Lord my G.o.d.

And now I do here with my full and joyful consent testify my giving up myself again to the Lord, and to his work and service here, and wherever he shall call me, with desire to consecrate my old age to my G.o.d and the guide of my youth. I love my Master and his services, and let my ears be nailed to the posts of his door, as one who would not go free from that blessed yoke and service, and lay in hope the whole a.s.sistance hereof on his grace and help, &c. To him I commit myself, my ways, my works and services, which, with my whole desire, I offer to my Lord, in whose hand I desire to secure my credit for the gospel's sake, my comfort and enlargement in this day of deep trouble and anguish, together with my poor children and the whole interest of my family and concerns, desiring to put myself with humble confidence, and all that is dear to me, under his care and conduct. O my soul, bless thou the Lord! This I write the first of Jan. 1692. _My Lord and my G.o.d._

R. FLEMING.

1694. In the first day and Monday of this new year 1694, that as I have formerly through most of my life past, so now I desire to renew my dedication and engagement to the Lord my G.o.d, and to join in the same witness with what herein hath been formerly with my whole heart and desire, and to offer to my dearest Lord praise, in remembrance of what he hath been through the year past, and in the whole of my life, whose gracious tender conduct hath been so wonderfully (and well hast thou, Lord, dealt with thy servant according to thy word) in all that hath befallen me, &c.

And now I do again by a surrender witness my entire commitment of myself, my poor children, my credit for the gospel, my conduct and comfort in so extraordinary a juncture to my dearest Lord, to his gracious and compa.s.sionate care and providence; together with my works, and any small design to serve him and my generation; and I do intreat new supplies of his grace and strength to secure and make his poor servant (if it were his blessed will) yet more abundantly forth-coming to him. And with hopes of acceptance I write this Jan. 1st, 1694. _Post tenebras spero lucem._

R. FLEMING.

But now drawing near his end in the same year 1694, upon the 17th of July he took sickness, and on the 25th died. On his first arrest, O friends, said he to such as were about him, sickness and death are serious things; but till the spark of his fever was risen to a flame, he was not aware that that sickness was to be unto death; for he told a relation, That if it should be so, it was strange, seeing the Lord did not hide from him the things that he did with him and his. Yet before his expiration, he was apprehensive of its approach: Calling to him a friend, he asked, What freedom he found in prayer for him? seems G.o.d to beckon to your pet.i.tions, or does he bring you up and leave dark impressions on your mind? This way, said he, I have often known the mind of the Lord. His friend telling him he was under darkness in the case, he replied, I know your mind, trouble not yourself for me; I think I may say, I have been long above the fear of death.

All the while his groans and struggling argued him to be under no small pain, but his answers to enquiring friends certified that the distress did not enter his soul. Always he would say, I am very well, or, I was never better, or, I feel no sickness. This would he say, while he seemed to be sensible of every thing besides pain. But the malignant distemper wasting his natural spirits, he could speak but little, but what he spoke was all of it like himself. Having felt himself indisposed for his wonted meditation and prayer, he thus said to some near him, I have not been able in a manner to form one serious thought since I was sick, or to apply myself unto G.o.d; he has applied himself unto me, and one of his manifestations was such as I could have borne no more. Opening his eyes after a long sleep, one of his sons asked how he did? He answered, Never better. Do you know me? said his son. Unto which with a sweet smile he answered, Yes, yes, dear son, I know you. This was about two hours before he died. About an hour afterwards he cried earnestly, Help, help for the Lord's sake, and then breathed weaker and weaker till he gave up the ghost, and after he had seen the salvation of G.o.d he departed in peace in the 64th year of his age.

Thus lived and died Mr. Fleming, after he had served his day and generation. His works yet declare what for a man he was; for besides the forenamed treatise, the confirming work of religion, his epistolary discourse, and his well known book, the fulfilling of the scriptures; he left a writing behind him under this t.i.tle, A short index of some of the great appearances of the Lord in the dispensations of his providence to his poor servant, &c. And although the obscurity of these hints leaves us in the dark, yet as they serve to shew forth his Master's particular care over his servant, who was most industrious in observing the Lord's special providences over others, and perhaps may give some further light into the different transactions of his life, they are here inserted.

"How near I was brought to death in my infancy, given over and esteemed a burthen to my friends, so as my death was made desirable to them; I being the refuse of my father's children, yet even I was then G.o.d's choice, and in a most singular way restored. 2. That remarkable deliverance, in receiving a blow by a club when a child, which was so near my eye as endangered both my sight and life. 3. The strange and extraordinary impression I had of an audible voice in the church at night, when being a child I had got up to the pulpit, calling me to make haste, &c. 4. That I, of all my father's sons, should be spared, when the other three were so promising, and should thus come to be the only male heir surviving of such a stock. 5. That solemn and memorable day of communion at Gray-friar's in the entry of the year 1648, where I had so extraordinary a sense of the Lord's presence, yea, whence I can date the first sealing evidence of my conversion, now 40 years past. 6. The Lord's gracious and signal preservation and deliverance given me at Dumbar fight. 7. These solemn times and near approaches of the Lord to my soul; the first at Elve when I went there, and the other a little after my father's death in the high study. 8. The scripture Acts xii.

was given me to be my first text, and how I was unexpectedly and by surprize engaged therein. 9. The great deliverances at sea going to Dundee, the first time in company with the duke of Lauderdale, the other in company with Mr. Gray of Glasgow. 10. That extraordinary dream and marvellous vision I had twice repeated, with the inexpressible joy after the same. 11. These memorable impressions and pa.s.sages about my health, when it seemed hopeless, at my first entry upon the ministry, and the strange expression of Mr. Simpson of Newmills. 12. The Lord's immediate and wonderful appearance for me in my first entry to the ministry, with that extraordinary storm on the day of my ordination, and the amazing a.s.sault which followed the same in what befel, wherein Satan's immediate appearance against me was so visible.--13. The great and conspicuous seal given to my ministry from the Lord, in the conversion of several persons, with that marvellous power which then accompanied the word on the hearts of the people. 14. That signal appearance of the Lord and his marvellous condescendence in my marriage lot, and in the whole conduct of the same. 15. My deliverance from so imminent hazard of my life in my fall from my horse at Kilmarnock. 16.

The Lord's marvellous a.s.sistance at the two communions of Cathcart and Dunlop, with the great enlargement I had at the last of these two places at the last table. 18. That as my entry to my charge was with such a bright sunshine, so no less did the Lord appear at my parting from that place, &c. 18. The Lord's special providence as to my outward lot after my removal thence, in many circ.u.mstances that way. 19. The gracious sparing my wife so long, when her life was in such hazard in the years 1665 and 1672. 20. The preservation I had in going over to Fife in the year 1672. and the settlement I got there. 21. The dream at Boussay, wherein I got such express warning as to my wife's removal, with the Lord's marvellous appearance and presence the Thursday after at St. Johnston's. 22. That extraordinary warning I got again of my dear wife's death, and of the manner of it at London in the year 1674. 23.

These two remarkable scripture places given me at West Nisbet in my return from London 1674. _viz._ that in Rom. iv. in the forenoon, and that in Psal. cxv. in the afternoon. 24. Those great and signal confirmations given me at my wife's death, and that great extraordinary voice so distinct and clear which I heard a few nights after her death.

25. These special confirmations given me at my leaving my country at West Nisbet, Ridsdale, Stanton, and the first at sea from the Shiels.

26. These solemn pa.s.sages to confirm my faith from Heb. xi. and Exod.

x.x.xiii. and at other times at London, and the last night there before I went away. 27. These extraordinary and signal times I had at my first entering at Rotterdam. 28. These two marvellous providences that did occur to me at Worden, and about the business of William Mader. 29. The marvellous sign given me of the state of my family, in what happened as to the sudden withering of the tree, and its extraordinary reviving again at my first entry to my house at Rotterdam. 30. The great deliverance from fire in the high street. 31. The good providence in returning my diary after it had been long lost. 32. The special providence in preserving my son from perishing in water. 33. The surprizing relief when cited by the council[244] of Scotland to appear, with that sweet resignation to the Lord which I had then under such a pungent trial. 34. The remarkable event of a warning I was forced to give that some present should be taken away by death before the next Lord's day. 35. The Lord's immediate supporting under a long series of wonders (I may truly say) for which I am obliged in a singular way to set up my Ebenezer, that hitherto hath the Lord helped. 36. The remarkable appearance of the Lord with me (which I omitted in its place) in the strange providence relating to Mr. Monypenny's death in Preston-pans. 37. The solemn providence and wonder in my life, my fall under the York coach in August 1654, when the great wheel went over my leg, so as I could feel it pa.s.sing me without hurting, far less breaking my leg, as if it had been thus carried over in a just poise, to let me see how providence watched over me, &c. 38. The comfort G.o.d gave me in my children, and those extraordinary confirmations I got from G.o.d upon the death of those sweet children whom G.o.d removed from me to himself."

Now, reader, go and do thou likewise, for _blessed is that servant, whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing_, Matth. xxiv.

_The Life of Mr. ALEXANDER SHIELDS._

Mr. Alexander Shields, son to James Shields of Haugh-head in the Merse, born _anno_ 1660, or 1661, and being sent to school (when capable of instruction) made such proficiency there, that in a short time he entered upon the study of philosophy under Sir William Paterson, then regent of the college of Edinburgh, (afterwards clerk to the b.l.o.o.d.y council) where he made no less progress. For, being of a lively genius and penetrating wit, he soon commenced master of arts, and that with no small applause. And having furnished his mind with no small degree of the ancillary knowledge of learning, he began to think upon the study of divinity in view for the ministry. But finding little encouragement this way for any who could not in conscience join with prelacy, or the prevailing defections of those called the indulged, he took a resolution, and went over among others to Holland (shortly before or after Bothwel) for the further improvement of his studies, where he continued some short time, and then returned home to his native country.

But upon his going to London, to be an amanuensis to Dr. Owen, or some of the English divines who were writing books for the press; he had a letter of commendation to one Mr. Blackie a Scots minister, who, appointing him to speak with him at a certain season, had several ministers convened unknown to him, and did press and enjoin him to take license. So that being carried into it, in that sudden and surprizing way, he did accept of it from the Scots dissenting ministers at London, but without any imposition for sinful restriction. However, the oath of allegiance becoming in a little time the trial of that place, Mr.

Shields studied, as he had occasion, to shew the sinfulness thereof, which these ministers took so ill that they threatened to stop his mouth, but he refused to submit himself thereunto.

But it was not long here that he could have liberty to exercise his office. For, upon the 11th day of January 1685, he was, with some others, apprehended by the city-marischal (at a private meeting in Gutter-lane) who came upon them at an unawares, and commanded them to surrender in the king's name. Mr. Shields, being first in his way, replied, What king do you mean? by whose authority do you disturb the peaceable ordinances of Jesus Christ?----Sir, you dishonour your king in making him an enemy to the worship of G.o.d. At which the marischal said, He had other business to do than to stand pratting with him. Mr. Shields made an attempt to escape, but was not able; and he and his companions were brought before the lord mayor, who threatened to send him to Bridewell. However bail was offered and admitted for him, to answer at Guildhall upon the 14th. Upon which day he attended, with a firm resolution to answer. But while he went out for a refreshment, he was called for, and none answering, his bail bond was forfeited, which afterward gave him no small uneasiness when his bail's wife said to him, Alas! why have you ruined our family? However, to prevent further damage, he appeared on the 20th, when he was arraigned in common form and examined, Whether he was at Bothwel, and if he approved of bishop Sharp's death? with several other questions. To which he replied, That he was not obliged to give an account of his thoughts, and that he came there to answer to his indictment, and not to such questions as these.

Upon which he was taken to Newgate by a single officer without any mittimus or any express order unto what prison he should be committed.

By the way (says he[245]) he could have escaped, had he not been led or betrayed there by flattery. It was some days before his mittimus came, by which he was ordered to be kept in custody till the next quarter session, which was to be at Guildhall on the 23d of Feb. following.

But Charles II. in this interval dying, he was, with other seven who were apprehended with him, March 5, put on board the Kitchen yacht for Scotland, and landed at Leith on the 13th, and the next day Mr. Shields was examined before the council, where he pled the liberty of his thoughts, putting them to prove his accusation, and waving a direct answer anent owning the king's authority; which gave way to his slip afterwards, as he (in his own impartial account of his sufferings) observes among other reflections "In this I cannot but adore the wisdom of the Lord's conduct, but with blushing at the folly of mine. I was indeed determined, I think, by a sovereign hand, and led upon this not usually trodden path by truth's confessor beyond my ordinary genius or inclination, to fence with these long weapons, declining direct answers which is the most difficult road, and most liable to snares; and wherein it is more hard to avoid wronging truth than in the plain and open-hearted way." However, he was remanded back to prison till the 23d, when he was brought before the justiciary, and interrogate, Whether he would abjure the apologetical declaration, and own the authority of James VII.? But being still on the reserve, he was sent back till the 25th, and from thence continued till the day following, which he calls the day of his fatal fall, the just desert of his former blind and bold approaches to the brink of these precipices over which he had looked, and was now left to fall therein. Here he was again examined to the effect aforesaid, and withal threatened with the most severe usage if he did not satisfy them. Whereupon he gave in a minute in writing, wherein, after a short preamble, he says, "The result of my thoughts is in the sincerity of an unfeigned conscience and in the fear of G.o.d, that I do renounce and disown that and all other declarations, in so far as that they declare war against the king expresly, proposedly or designedly, and a.s.sert that it is lawful to kill all employed by his majesty or any, because so employed in church, state, army or country." When they read this, they said it was satisfactory, and required him to hold up his hand. This he still refused, till allowed to dictate to the clerk what words he should swear. Which being done, he protested, that it might not be constructed to any other sense than the genuine words he delivered in the minute he did subscribe and swear. That which induced him to this, he says, was, "They gave it in his own meaning, and so far was his mind deceived, that by a quibble and nice distinction they thought that the word might bear, That this was not a disowning of that nor no declaration that ever he saw (save one of their pretending) nor that neither but in so far, or if so be; which different expressions he was taught to confound by scholastic notions infused into him by the court, and some of the indulged ministers while in prison, &c." Having so done, the justiciary dismissed him, but, on pretence he was the council's prisoner, he was sent back to his now more weary prison than ever. For he had no sooner made this foolish and unfaithful step of compliance (as he himself expresses it) than his conscience smote him, and continuing so to do, he aggravated his fall in such a sort as he wanted words to express.

Yet after all this his dangers were not over, for having wrote a letter to John Balfour to be by him transmitted to some friends in Holland declaring his grief and sorrow, and his mind anent his former compliances, &c. it fell into the enemies hands; whereupon he was again brought before the lords of council, and though much threatening ensued, yet he owned the letter, and declared his sorrow for what he had formerly done. After which they appointed him to confer with the arch-bishop of St. Andrews, and the bishops of Glasgow and Dunkeld. With them he had a long reasoning, and among other things they objected that all powers were ordained of G.o.d, be they what they will. He answered, "All power is ordained of G.o.d by his provident will, but every power a.s.sumed by man is not so by his approbative and preceptive will." One of the prelates said, That even his provident will is not to be resisted.----He answered, That the holy product of it cannot and may not, but the instrument he made use of some times might be resisted. It was urged that Nero was then regnant when this command of non-resistance was given.----He answered, That the command was given in general for our instruction how to carry in our duty under lawful magistrates, abstracting from Nero. Then they asked him, How he would reconcile his principles with that article in the confession of faith, that difference in religion, &c.----He answered, "Very easily: For though difference in religion did not make void his power, yet it might stop his admission to that power where that religion he differed from was established by law, &c."

He was continued till Aug. 6. when he was again before the justiciary and indicted; which made him write two letters, one to the advocate and the other to his old regent Sir William Paterson, which he thought somewhat mitigated their fury. Whereupon he drew up a declaration of his sentiments, and gave in to the lords of council, upon which much reasoning betwixt him and them ensued. After two conferences wherein he was asked many questions, in the third he condescended to sign the oath of abjuration, (which they had so much insisted he should again take, as he had at their command torn his name from the first) only it was worded thus, If so be such things are there inserted; which he told them, he was sure was not the case: This with difficulty was granted. As he subscribed he protested before them, "That none were to think by this he justified the act of succession or the abrogation of the ancient laws about it, or the want of security for religion or liberty, or that he acknowledged the divine approbation of it, &c." When all was over he was delayed till to-morrow. But to-morrow he was sent to the Ba.s.s, and doubtless would have suffered, had he not got out in woman's clothes and eloped.

After his escape (without seeking after any other party whatsoever) he came straight to Mr. Renwick, and that faithful contending remnant then in the fields, where upon the 5th of Dec. 1686. he attended a meeting for preaching at the wood of Earlston in Galloway. After which he continued with Mr. Renwick for some time: In which time he ceased not, both in public and private, to give full proof and evidence of his hearty grief and sorrow for his former apostacy and compliances. Upon the 22d he came to their general meeting, where he gave them full satisfaction in espousing all and every part of their testimony and likewise made a public confession of his own guilt; wherein he acknowledged, (1.) That he had involved himself in the guilt of owning the (so called) authority of James VII. shewing the sinfulness thereof, taking shame to himself. (2.) He acknowledged his guilt in taking the oath of abjuration and his relapsing into the same iniquity, the sinfulness of which he held forth at great length, and spake so largely to these particulars as discovering the heinousness of that sin as made Mr. Renwick say, "I think none could have done it, unless they had known the terrors of the Lord;" and added, "I thought it both singular and promising to see a clergyman come forth with such a confession of his own defections, when so few of that set are seen in our age to be honoured with the like."

After this when Mr. Renwick and the united societies were necessitated to publish their informatory vindication, Mr. Shields went over to Holland to have the same printed about the beginning of the year 1687.; but it appears he was necessitated to return home before that work was finished.

After Mr. Renwick's death he continued for some time in the fields preaching in Crawford muirs at Disinckorn-hill in Galston parish and many other places, and about the end of the same year 1688. when Kersland and the united societies, who had, in the inter-regnum of the government, thrust out some of the curates, and demolished some of the popish monuments of idolatry, were obliged to publish a vindication of themselves in these proceedings; which they did at the cross of Douglas.

Mr. Shields being present did sing some verses in the beginning of the 76th psalm, _In Judah's land G.o.d is well known_, &c. making some notes and while expatiating on the same, said, That this psalm was sweetly sung by famous Mr. Robert Bruce at the cross of Edinburgh at the break of the Spanish Armada the same time a hundred years ago.