John Brown’s home became a rendezvous for the Delegated meetings of the United Societies.  This thickened the dangers that were gathering around his life.  He had a presentiment that his blood would be shed for the cause of Christ, yet he accepted duty at every hazard, and rejoiced in privileges however perilous.

After the death of Donald Cargill, the Cameronians for a while had no ministers.  They stood, however, unfalteringly by their Covenant.  They even grew aggressive in their testimony; hurled new challenges at the king; took forward steps in the battle for conscience, liberty, and the royal rights of Christ.  The societies, numbering several hundred, were able to unify and utilize their strength, by means of the Delegated meetings.  The second meeting of these delegates was held in this consecrated home.  Sixteen men, representative Cameronians, competent and fearless elders, gathered around this hearth, where the turf-fire glowed, while the March storms swept the moorland.  Here they deliberated how the Covenanters might continue the struggle, and intensify it by striking harder blows against error, and giving stronger testimony to the rights of their kingly Saviour.  They were at no time planning for ease, safety, or deliverance.  “We only fear,” said one, “that our sufferings will end before the reformation begins.”  The glory of Jesus Christ was their objective point.

Alexander Peden in his wanderings, drifted into this home, on the night previous to the awful tragedy that occurred in the front yard.  How surpassingly kind is God’s providence!  Surely Peden was sent of God to fill these hearts with comfort, courage, and triumph in Jesus Christ, for the trial, which was now at their door.  Peden held John Brown in highest esteem.  Of him he said, “He was a clear, shining light, the greatest Christian I ever conversed with.”  What a night of prayer and inspired fellowship those men must have had together.  Their souls were then in a state of highest tension; both were fired with zeal for the Covenant of the Lord, and melted with sorrow for the desolated Church.

[Illustration:  A Widow’s sorrow

Claverhouse and his troopers found John Brown on his farm digging turf.  It was in the morning.  His fields were still dripping with dew, and his soul moist with distillings of the 27th Psalm, which he had sung at family worship.  He was brought home, and shot at his door, in presence of his wife and child.  Mrs Brown suffered “neither fainting nor confusion, but her eyes dazzled when the shots went off,” according to her own story.]

Next morning, May 1, 1685, they were up at dawn for family worship.  The first verses of the 27th Psalm were sung.  How wonderfully appropriate for such a morning!  The Psalm is the shout of faith: 

    “The Lord’s my light and saving health,
      Who shall make me dismayed? 
    My life’s strength is the Lord; of whom
      Then shall I be afraid?”