, and his manner so gracious, they cordially
sustained him. Next came the act of subscribing the creed before
ordination could be granted. This he positively refused to do, for it
had not the approval of his conscience. They yielded here also,
permitting him to sign the Standards of the Church of the Covenant. He
won his way. Decorum was nothing to him, in comparison with conscience
and God. He then came back to Scotland, and visited the ministers,
pleading with the Indulged to return to the Covenant, and entreating the
silent ones to come out of their caves, and make the land ring again
with their voices. He was small in person, slender and delicate, and
scarcely yet out of his boyhood. He everywhere met with repulse. Vexed
and disappointed, he went alone, in the strength of the Lord, to the
little flocks scattered over the wilderness. The societies gathered
about him; the Field-meetings were revived; the Lord poured out His Holy
Spirit in great power; the shout of a king was again heard in the camp
of the Covenanters.

Renwick's ministry lasted about four years. During this time he seemed
to be the most hated man in the world; reproach, revenge, and hatred
rolled over his head like breaking waves. He was called a deceiver, a
fanatic, a schismatic, a traitor. He was pursued by malicious rumors to
blacken his name, and by armed men to shed his blood. Yet he continued
steadfastly on his way. Winter storms and summer rains could not abate
his ardor. Neither the advice of friends, nor the wrath of foes, could
swerve him, no, not one moment, nor one hairbreath. His spirit was on
fire while his body was emaciated. A thousand arrows were flying around
this dove, some of them drinking its blood, yet was it singing.

One night he appeared at the door of John Brown. He was graciously
received. A storm was sweeping the moor. As he sat by the glowing fire,
drying his dripping garments and warming his shivering body, he
remarked, "Reproach has not broken my heart; but the excessive
traveling, and many exposures, have weakened my body."

His mother and sisters visited him when in jail, awaiting his execution.
Looking into their sad faces, he cheered them up, by exclaiming, "Oh,
how can I contain this, to be within two hours of the crown of glory!
Let us be glad, and rejoice. This death is to me, as if I were to lie
down on a bed of roses." When the drum sounded the signal for the
execution, he cried out, "Yonder, the welcome warni