along the shores of Dunbar. It was the
herring season--and there were many boats from the south and from the
north, and also from the coast of Holland.

Now, tidings were brought to the fishermen that an immense shoal was
upon the coast; and, regardless of its being Sabbath morning, they began
to prepare their thousand boats, and to go out to set their nets. The
Rev. Andrew Simpson, a man possessed of the piety and boldness of an
apostle, was then minister of Dunbar; and, as he went forth to the kirk
to preach to his people, he beheld the unhallowed preparations of the
fishermen on the beach; and he turned and went amongst them, and
reproved them sternly for their great wickedness. But the men were
obdurate--the prospect of great gain was before them, and they mocked
the words of the preacher. Yea, some of them said unto him, in the words
of the children to the prophet--"Go up, thou bald head." He went from
boat to boat, counselling, entreating, expostulating with them, and
praying for them.

"Surely," said he, "the Lord of the Sabbath will not hold ye guiltless
for this profanation of his holy day." But, at that period, vital
religion was but little felt or understood upon the Borders, and they
regarded not his words.

He went to one boat, which was the property of members of his own
congregation, and there he found Agnes Crawford, the daughter of one
of his elders, hanging upon the neck of her husband, and their three
children also clung around him, and they entreated him not to be guilty
of breaking the Sabbath for the sake of perishing gain. But he regarded
not their voice; and he kissed his wife and his children, while he
laughed at their idle fears. Mr. Simpson beheld the scene with emotion,
and approaching the group--"John Crawford," he exclaimed, addressing the
husband, "you may profess to mock, to laugh to scorn the words of a
feeble woman; but see that they return not like a consuming fire into
your bosom when hope has departed. Is not the Lord of the Sabbath the
Creator of the sea as well as of the dry land? Know ye not that ye are
now braving the wrath of him before whom the mighty ocean is a drop, and
all space but a span? Will ye, then, glory in insulting his ordinances,
and delight in profaning the day of holiness? Will ye draw down
everlasting darkness on the Sabbath of your soul? When ye were but a
youth, ye have listened to the words of John Knox--the great apostle of
our country--ye have trembled b