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cording merely his name, age, and the time of his death; his friends thinking, and thinking correctly, that genius like his needed no eulogy ; the works he has left behind him being a higher testimony to it than any living pen could furnish. The remains of his wife lie beside him, and both their names are on the same stone.
We then went to Greyfriars churchyard, where repose the ashes of many of Scotland's sainted dead-George Buchanan—Professor RobertsonDr. McCrie, and others. A series of vaults are built in the wall on the one side, in one of which Archbishop Sharpe was buried. It seems difficult to find language sufficiently strong to express the abhorrence that all honorable-minded men must feel for this hypocritical villain. At the restoration of Charles II., he was sent up to London to represent the Presbyterian interests, by some of the leading ministers in Edinburgh. While he was in their employ and confidence, he was at the same time purchasing for himself, at the ex. pense of sacrificing the interests of his representatives, and his own professed principles, the position of Archbishop. When he attained the object of his ambition, he became a violent persecutor.
Welsh, Cameron, Kidd, and Douglass were the special objects of his hatred. He was a member of a council which ordered the Earl of Linlithgow to send out an armed force against them, merely because they preached the gospel in its purity, authorizing him to seize them wherever found, " and,” to quote the language of the council, “ in case of resistance, to pursue them to the death.”. He was an apostate, and a perjured man. For eighteen years he had been the chief cause of much bloodshed, and of terrible suffering to the people of God. On one occasion, by withholding the King's letter, nine sufferers, whom it would have saved, were put to a cruel and ignominious death. Such was the character of this man-and as he showed no mercy to others, so he found none in his own death. He was met by three mistaken zealots, while crossing a moor near St Andrews, and told by them that he must die. “ Judas be taken,” was their language, as they stopped his carriage. He begged for his life—offered to give them money and to abandon his prelatic station if they would have mercy on him—but they were relentless— the blow was struck and his guilty soul passed into eternity. He was buried no doubt with great
pomp, but the sentiments of the authorities of Scotland have changed since then, and his tomb has been allowed to fall into decay. When I saw it, the door was broken, and the place itself seemed to have been often used as a kennel by stray dogs ; in fact it is not improbable that some of his bones may have been the sport of the canine species. It reminds one of the language of the young prophet at Ramoth Gilead, “ And the dogs shall eat Jezebel.” Seeing a man at work near by, probably one of the grave diggers, I asked him why the resting place of the Archbishop was allowed to remain in such a dilapidated condition. Shaking his head, he replied “It's guid eneugh for him, it's mair than he deserves.” On the opposite side of the yard was once a deep pit, into which the bodies of the martyred Covenanters were thrown, and among them may have been some of the victims of Sharpe's cruelty. Now, however, the pit is carefully filled up, and a neat monument with a long inscription marks the spot. The contrast appeared striking, and seemed to suggest the expression of the Psalmist—that with regard to Sharpe, his “memorial had perished with him," while the language of the wisest man seemed
equally applicable to the martyred saints, “The memory of the just is blessed."
Greyfriars church, a venerable old building, which is associated with many stirring scenes in the history of the church, was burnt to the ground, about five years ago. It was here that the Church of Scotland, seeing that a crisis was at hand, invited her noblemen, gentlemen of rank, and members generally to assemble, to renew the covenant on the 1st of March, 1634. On that day, no less than 60,000 Presbyterians assembled in the town, and met in the Greyfriars churchyard. After solemn services and prayer, the covenant was read 6 out of a fair parchment about an ell square." There was silence, still as death, when the venerable Earl of Sutherland stepped forward and put his name to it; others followed. For the convenience of the multitude it was spread on a flat gravestone. Many, in addition to their name, wrote “ till death," and some signed it with their blood. The immense sheet was soon filled to the very edge. All lifted up their hands at once, and with tears and prayers, swore, in their own and their children's name, to abide by it forever. Such was the sublime spectacle that day witnessed in