The homeless Covenanters, wandering from place to place, carried the Bible with them.  It was their faithful guide and constant companion.  When they were hungry, it was their food; when thirsty, it was their drink; when forsaken, it was their friend; when wounded, it was their balm; when pursued, it was their refuge; when condemned, it was their advocate; when executed, it was their welcome into heaven.  When they retired to the darksome caves, its promises made the dripping stones shine; when they sought shelter in the mountains, the music of the Psalms cheered their hearts; when their blood bedewed the moss, the loud cry on Calvary sanctified their pain; when they sat on the Bass Rock begirt with waves and swept by storms, the visions, creations, and tumultuous grandeurs of Patmos were reproduced in the spiritual experience of these illuminated sufferers, by means of the Word of God.  To these devout Covenanters, the blessed Book yielded up its wealth, breathed its deepest love, revealed its hidden glory.  In their spiritual visions, the desert blossomed at their feet, gardens flourished around them, harvests ripened for their sickle; summer drove back the dreary winter; they verily dwelt in Immanuel’s land.

The Covenanters loved the Bible more than their lives.  In it they found eternal life, and counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ.  Many instances are on record, showing their willingness to die, rather than abandon, or conceal, the Book of God.  One man, M’Roy by name, was shot on the spot, because he was found reading his Bible.  It was Sabbath, a sweet summer day.  That morning he drove his cows to pasture, carrying the sacred Book with him.  The field is a beautiful place for personal devotions.  Here the soul can luxuriate in prayer and meditation, holding fellowship with heaven.  A solemn stillness had fallen upon the broad landscape; nothing was heard but the notes of the plover, the bleating of the lambs, and the grazing of the cows.  M’Roy sat down on the soft grass, and opened the Book of God.  He was then in his element; he delighted in the law of the Lord.  The sun poured down its blessings upon the fields, and a light much brighter spread around his soul; the fragrant air fanned his brow, and sweeter aroma from the “mountain or myrrh” refreshed his spirit.  His heart was beating fast with the joys that were crowding into his inner life.  He was preparing, though he knew it not, for a crisis.  Suddenly and rudely the spiritual reverie was interrupted.  Captain Lagg, with a company of horsemen, was dashing across that field, when their eyes fell upon the lonely herdsman.  They galloped to the spot where he sat in solemn composure.

“What book is that you are reading?” Lagg gruffly asked.

“It is the Bible, Sir,” meekly replied M’Roy, looking up into the face of the rough soldier, who held his weapon ready for action.  The confession sealed his death.