manifestoes of the persecuted party.  His services were in constant and increasing demand, in various places widely scattered.  After he had been engaged in the most arduous labours, he had little or no rest, and no comfortable place of retirement.  He was obliged to lodge in moss-hags, sheils of shepherds, or holes dug in the ground by his followers; when sticks were kindled for a fire, and children conveyed to him food, not unfrequently without the knowledge of their parents.  Naturally of a weak constitution, he was, at times, so borne down by sickness and total prostration of strength, that he was literally carried on the shoulders of faithful followers, or supported when on horseback.  He had frequently to flee from one hiding place to another, barefoot, or without some of his garments, as he had also to travel in disguise.  Letters of intercommuning were launched against him.  A price was set upon his head, and persons were forbidden, on pain of death, to yield him shelter, or a mouthful of food, to converse, or correspond with him by writing, or offer him the smallest service of humanity.

It is recorded that in 1687, the year before Renwick’s martyrdom, the royal troops, thirteen times, made the strictest search for him throughout all the country.  To avoid the pursuit of enemies, he had to travel in disguise, and often in the dark night, and to seek shelter in caves, and rocks, and dens of the earth.  Whenever he was engaged in his ministerial work, friendly watches were placed around him, to give the alarm on the approach of danger.  When he preached, a fleet horse was standing beside him saddled and bridled, by which he could speedily distance the pursuit of enemies.  He had, moreover, to suffer much from disputes, contentions, and reproaches among those for whom he was expending his energies, and for whom he was prepared to sacrifice his life.  On one occasion, when entering the cottage of John Brown of Priesthill, he is said to have given momentary utterance to the pent-up grief of his heart by exclaiming, “Reproach hath broke my heart.”  “From an enemy,” he added, “he could have borne it, but it was hard when it came from those whom he loved as himself, and for whom he was undergoing such privations and sufferings.”  From the Presbyterian ministers and people, who had closed in with the Indulgence and James’s toleration, he received no kindly recognition, nor a single act of friendship.  On the contrary, they heaped on him every term in the vocabulary of abuse, calling him “Jesuit,” “devil,” &c.  They misrepresented his principles, and sought to excite prejudice against him throughout the country and among foreign churches, especially in Holland, where Renwick had many attached sympathisers and friends.  What was the ground of such dislike and hostility?  His life,—­even his enemies being witnesses,—­was blameless.  He preached fully and powerfully the glorious gospel.  He enforced a strict Scriptural discipline, and he