eting this genial
Scotchman in his meadow, as he was making hay one fine August day. He
immediately laid his fork aside, and brought us to his house, where we
were deeply interested in a fine collection of souvenirs of the martyrs
and their times.]

A Home at Lochgoin. This is a very ancient residence of the Covenanters.
The Howies have lived here since 1178, the twenty-eighth generation now
occupying the house. The building is stone, one story high, with a loft.
While the persecution raged, this was a chief resort of the Covenanters.
Occupying a solitary place, with a vast out-stretch of waste moorland on
every side, this house was like the shadow of a great rock in a weary
land: the pursued often found shelter under its roof. Hither Peden,
Cameron, Renwick, Paton, and many others repaired, and found a cordial
welcome. On one occasion a group had come to spend the night in prayer.
They felt comparatively secure, because a storm was raging over the
moor. The clouds were pouring down torrents, and the fitful gusts were
playing wildly across the broad expanse of moss and heather. These men
of God knew how to wrestle with the Angel of the Covenant, and betimes
continued their prayers till the break of day. The pursuers had scented
their game; in the morning a detachment of cavalry rode up to the house.
The Covenanters escaped through the back door. To give them more time,
Mrs. Howie stood in front of the soldiers, and disputed their entrance
into the house. A burly dragoon attempted to push in. She grappled him
by the shoulder, whirled him about, and shoved him out with such force
that he fell to the ground. Her Covenanted guests all escaped, and the
soldiers, after a fruitless pursuit, withdrew. For this heroic service
Mrs. Howie suffered much and her life was sought. Often she had to leave
her home, and spend whole nights in the cold, damp moor, with a tender
babe on her breast.

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