lodging, fellowship, all kindness and support, that they might perish
without a helping hand or a consoling word. To attend their preaching
was accounted a crime to be punished by the judges, an act of rebellion
worthy of imprisonment or death.

The ministers were not overawed, nor were the people intimidated.
Field-preaching characterized the times. Conventicles were more numerous
and the attendance larger than hitherto. It was estimated that, on a
certain Sabbath, an aggregate of 16,000 attended three meetings held in
one county. Men, women, and children traveled miles and miles to these
sequestered spots among the hills and on the moors, in defiance of all
threats and in face of all clangers. There they stayed through the long
Sabbath hours, listening to the rich, sweet Gospel of Christ, while the
ministers spoke with earnestness as from the very portals of eternity.

The Conventicles flourished in spite of every effort to suppress them.
The king and his counselors became alarmed and sent the "Highland host,"
a vicious army of 10,000 strong, to extinguish these hated
Field-meetings. The Covenanters suffered at their hands, as by a foreign
invasion. The military atrocities, horrible before, were now barbarous
in the extreme. "Fire, and blood, and vapors of smoke" marked the path
of these brutal men as they raided the country. Yet the Conventicles
were not extinguished.

To meet the conditions of increasing terror, the Covenanters came to the
Field-meetings armed and ready for self-defence. Sentries were
stationed on the hills that towered above the worshipers, and the
discharge of a gun was the signal of danger. At the approach of
soldiers, the people quietly dispersed, if escape were possible; if not,
then the armed men drew out and lined up for battle. Many a time the
worship of God was suddenly turned into the clash of arms.

The Lomond-hills formed good places for these meetings. On one occasion,
a large concourse of people had assembled amidst these sheltering
heights. Rev. John Wellwood, a young minister whom the soldiers could
not catch, was feasting these hungry souls with the Word of life. Some
of his sermons are still extant. They are rich in nourishment, nervous
with earnestness, and flashing with fiery eloquence, he lived in the
dark days, but died exclaiming, "Now, eternal light! no more night, nor
darkness to me." While the people this day were feasting on his words,
the signal announced the approach