A Home near Muirkirk.  James Glendinning was a shepherd whose humble cottage escaped not the notice of the persecutor.  Knowing the danger that enshrouded his home, he arose one evening from his knees after family worship, and, walking softly across the floor, uncovered the cradle and gently lifted the babe, which he tenderly placed on the mother’s knee, saying, “I commit you, my dear wife, and this sweet babe to the fatherly care of the Great Shepherd of Israel.  If my days be cut short, God, the God under whose shadow we have taken refuge, will be to you a Husband, and to this child a Father.”  Not long after this, the home was beset by a company of soldiers.  That very night his wife had constrained him to retire to his hiding-place near by.  The soldiers rudely rushed into the house, expecting to pounce upon him as their prey.  Not finding him they were enraged.  Seizing the infant, they held the struggling form up in the face of the frantic mother, and, flashing a glittering sword, threatened to cut it into pieces, if she did not reveal the hiding-place of her husband.  At that moment the father, who had been attracted to the door, seeing the manoeuvres, rushed in.  His soul was on fire; he was just then strong as ten men; he feared not consequences.  “Hold, ye murderers!  Back! back!” cried he, waving his sword in their faces.  He sprang toward his babe and rescued it, while he used his sword with telling effect upon the intruders.  The soldiers retreated, leaving the floor sprinkled with their blood.  The family soon afterward removed to Holland.

A Home near Closeburn.  James Nivison was a farmer whose hospitable home afforded comfort and shelter to many who were houseless.  He was an unbending Covenanter.  Nothing could daunt his noble soul.  Being threatened with trouble and loss, he once replied, that if the turning of a straw, in obedience to unprincipled and arbitrary rulers, would save him from harm, he would not comply.  His wife was of equal heroism.  His home was so often beset by soldiers in search of him, that he had to retire to the solitudes.  He one day said to his wife, “My dear wife, stern necessity demands our temporary separation.  God will be with us both—­you at the home, and me in the wilderness.”  “I will accompany you,” she firmly replied; “I will accompany you.  If the archers hit you, I will be there to staunch your wounds and to bind up your bleeding head.  In whatever danger you may be, I will be at your side, your affectionate wife, in life or in death.”  They went out together.  Sadly they closed the door of their pleasant home, to wander, not knowing where.  The mother carried a tender little babe in her bosom.  Their first retreat was found in the woods, then in different caves.  They made a basket of twigs for the infant.  The mother, sitting in the mouth of the cold cavern, would rock her little darling, and sing the soft lullabies that mingled with the sighing of the winds.  They survived the persecution.