with the God whom
he had offended. Some of the Councillors were for granting this small
indulgence. Others thought that it ought not to be granted unless the
ministers of Edinburgh would intercede. The two parties were evenly
balanced; and the question was decided against the prisoner by the
casting vote of the Chancellor. The Chancellor was a man who has been
often mentioned in the course of this history, and never mentioned with
honour. He was that Sir Patrick Hume whose disputatious and factious
temper had brought ruin on the expedition of Argyle, and had caused not
a little annoyance to the government of William. In the Club which had
braved the King and domineered over the Parliament there had been no
more noisy republican. But a title and a place had produced a wonderful
conversion. Sir Patrick was now Lord Polwarth; he had the custody of the
Great Seal of Scotland; he presided in the Privy Council; and thus he
had it in his power to do the worst action of his bad life.

It remained to be seen how the clergy of Edinburgh would act. That
divines should be deaf to the entreaties of a penitent who asks, not for
pardon, but for a little more time to receive their instructions and to
pray to Heaven for the mercy which cannot be extended to him on earth,
seems almost incredible. Yet so it was. The ministers demanded, not
only the poor boy's death, but his speedy death, though it should be his
eternal death. Even from their pulpits they cried out for cutting him
off. It is probable that their real reason for refusing him a respite
of a few days was their apprehension that the circumstances of his case
might be reported at Kensington, and that the King, who, while reciting
the Coronation Oath, had declared from the throne that he would not be a
persecutor, might send down positive orders that the sentence should
not be executed. Aikenhead was hanged between Edinburgh and Leith. He
professed deep repentance, and suffered with the Bible in his hand. The
people of Edinburgh, though assuredly not disposed to think lightly of
his offence, were moved to compassion by his youth, by his penitence,
and by the cruel haste with which he was hurried out of the world. It
seems that there was some apprehension of a rescue; for a strong body of
fusileers was under arms to support the civil power. The preachers who
were the boy's murderers crowded round him at the gallows, and, while
he was struggling in the last agony, insulted Heaven wi