remained almost the whole time of that assembly. And after they
rose, as an acknowledgment of his good services, the parliament of
England made him a handsome present of silver plate, with an
inscription, signifying it to be a token of their great respect to him,
which not long since was to be seen in the house of Carnbrue, being
carefully preserved, and perhaps it remains there to this day.
By his first wife Lillias Fleming he had one son and four daughters, by
his second wife, principal Strang's daughter he had one daughter who
was married to Walkinshaw of Barrowfield.
About this time he was a great confident of the marquis of Argyle, the
earls of Cassils, Eglinton, Lauderdale, and Loudon, lord Balmerino, and
Sir Archibald Johnston lord Warriston, with others of the chief managers
among the covenanters, whereby he obtained the most exact knowledge of
the transactions of that time, which he has carefully collected in his
letters; as he expresses himself, there was not any one from whom his
correspondent could get a more full narrative under Cromwell's
usurpation. He joined with that party called resolutioners, and composed
several of the papers belonging to that side _anno_ 1661. He was by
Lauderdale's interest, made principal of the college of Glasgow, upon
the removal of Mr. Patrick Gillespie, about which time it is commonly
said, he had a bishopric offered him, but that he refused it, because,
says the writer of the memorial[120], he did not choose to enter into a
dispute with those, with whom he had formerly lived in friendship. But
this was only a sly way of wounding an amiable character, for Mr. Bailey
continued firmly attached to presbyterian government, and in opposition
to prelacy to his very last; several instances could be brought to this
purpose, but a few excerpts from some of his own letters, particularly
one to Lauderdale a little before his death[121], may effectually wipe
away that reproach. "Having the occasion of this bearer, I tell you my
heart is broken with grief, and I find the burthen of the public
weighty, and hastening me to my grave. What need you do that disservice
to the king, which all of you cannot recompense, to grieve the hearts of
all your godly friends in Scotland, with pulling down all our laws at
once, which concerned our church since 1633? Was this good advice, or
will it thrive? Is it wisdom to bring back upon us the Canterburian
times, the same designs, the same practices? Will
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