highest crag of Cairn Table. "Keep that in yir e'en, and ye'll come to
John Brown's grave." Our way lay through a pathless moor, covered deep
with grass, rushes, and moss; and we had asked direction to the spot
where the martyr's body sleeps.

The day was wet, the pasture was beaded with drops, and the rushing
streamlets disputed our crossing yet a passionate longing to see the
place where John Brown, known as the "Christian Carrier" had lived, and
was buried, overcame every difficulty. The walk covered three miles. At
length we ascended a knoll, and, lo, the monument stood before our eyes,
and almost at our feet. Now we were on ground, where one of the most
tragic scenes of Scotland was transacted. Cargill very beautifully said,
"The moors are flowered with martyrs' graves." Here is one of these
flowers; a century plant it is, watered with precious blood, and abloom
in sweet solitude.

The buildings are gone; not a trace of them is left. The grave was made,
it is said, where the martyr fell, in front of his cottage. It is
enclosed with a stone wall breast high. A flat stone lies over the
remains, bearing a copious inscription. The solitariness is oppressive;
death and desolation here bear undisputed sway. The blood ran in chills,
as the cold grey stones gave their testimony, amid the gusts that played
with the heather, and the drizzle that sprinkled our bare heads. The
thoughts of the heart played wildly; imagination refused to be bridled;
in a moment former conditions were, in vision, revived. The monument had
given place to the dwelling, and the dreariness was astir with the
scenes of busy life.

The country around, was then, as it is now, somber as a desert. The
silence is solemn; we bated our breath; the lips shrank from speaking;
aught except a prayer, or the melody of a Psalm, seemed out of place.
The outlook on every side is without an inhabitant; yet, even here, the
persecutor sought his prey, and did his cruel work.

Many years had this home been a sanctuary in the wilderness, and a
refuge for the hunted Covenanters. John Brown and Isabel, his wife, were
like Zacharias and Elizabeth, "both righteous before God, walking in all
the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless." They had two
children, a babe in the mother's arms, and Janet, five years old, a
child by a former wife. Morning and evening God's worship perfumed
their humble dwelling. These hearts, filled with the love of Jesus,
poured fort