ROBERT BARCLAY,THEAPOLOGIST OF QUAKERISM.

ROBERT BARCLAY,THEAPOLOGIST OF QUAKERISM.PREFACE.This sketch was outlined as a companion sketch to those of Fox and Penn. But the opportunity of embodying in it extracts from unpublished letters in the keeping of members of the Barclay family, (for which the author cannot be too grateful,) led to its being enlarged to a disproportionate size. But the reader will not regret this, when he finds himself furnished with new materials throwing light on a character so little understood. To most readers, Barclay is merely a name; the author has attempted to realise the man and his work, as far as the still very imperfect information will allow.ROBERT BARCLAY,THEAPOLOGIST OF QUAKERISM.George Fox, that fervid evangelist who anticipated Wesley in claiming the whole world as his parish, visited Scotland only once. This was in 1657. But some years previously, several Quaker ministers, including two lady-evangelists, Catherine Evans and Sarah Cheevers, had preached "the truth" there, and meetings had been gathered, says Sewel the Quaker historian, in Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and other places. JamesNaylerpreached in Scotland as early as 1651, with his usual fervour and success. But no church of professed "Friends" was formed in Aberdeen until 1662, when Alexander Jaffray sometime provost of Aberdeen, one of the Scottish Commissioners to King Charles, and a member of Cromwell's Parliament, was led along with others to a full and open acceptance of Quakerism by William Dewsbury. The number of the names was small, but they were men and women whose energy and sterling worth made them noteworthy. Their decision may be measured by their daring the contempt so profusely accorded the "Friends" by the orthodox; "possessed with the devil, demented, blasphemous deniers of the true Christ" being some of the expressions hurled at them by the neighbouring pulpits. In 1666, they were strengthened by the accession of Colonel David Barclay, and a little later by that of his son, Robert Barclay, the future Apologist of Quakerism. Fully then was the expectation of George Fox realised, of whichhe afterwards told Robert Barclay, in 1675, "As soon as ever my horse set his foot upon the land of the Scottish nation, the infinite sparkles of life sparkled about me; and so as I rid with divers friends, I saw the seed of the seedsman Christ that was sown; but abundance of clods—foul and filthy earth—was above it; and a great winter and storms and tempests of work." "Thick cloddy earth of hypocrisy and falseness atop," says the corresponding passage of his journal, "and a briary brambly nature, which is to be turned up with God's Word, and ploughed up with his spiritual plough, before God's seed brings forth heavenly and spiritual fruit to his glory. But the husbandman is to wait in patience."David Barclay represented an ancient and honourable family, supposed to be a branch of the Berkeleys in Gloucestershire. He was a lineal descendant of Theobald de Berkeley, born about 1110, who held a large estate in Kincardine, and was conspicuous in the court of David I. In the 15th century, Alexander Berkeley began to spell the name Barclay, and his descendants followed his example.[13]They were a powerful, sometimes a turbulent race, with an occasional instance of a literary or scholarly scion. David Barclay's father having wrecked his fortune by spendthrift and easygoing habits, his sons had to shift for themselves. Three of them died before their father, two in infancy, the third, James, falling at the battle of Philiphaugh, whilst fighting under his brother David. Of the two survivors, the younger, Robert, became a Catholic priest, and flourished in Paris, becoming Rector of the Scottish College there. Of David, the elder and the father of the subject of this sketch, we must speak more at length.[13]Of the father of this Alexander de Barclay, whose name was David, we read that he was the "ringleader of the savage barons who exaggerated the atrocities of a reckless age by actually boiling an obnoxious sheriff of the Mearns in a cauldron, and then 'suppin' the broo'." Yet the son was something of a poet, and some lines full of good advice, said to be from his pen, are given in the "Short Account of R. Barclay."David Barclay was born at Kirtounhill, in 1610. The only patrimony he got from his father was a good education: for in 1633, the old family estates were sold to pay off his father's debts. Finding that he had to make his own way in the world, with all the energy of his race he "flung himself into the saddle of opportunity as a soldier of fortune," and rose to the rank of major in the army of Gustavus Adolphus, specially distinguishing himself at Lutzen. Returning home with substantial gains as well as honours, when the civil war broke out he became a colonel in the Royal Army. He fought under Leslie at Philiphaugh, and effectively assisted Middleton in holding the north, until Cromwell removed him from command, after his victory at Preston-pans. Then he retired from military service, bought the Ury estate, and with his wife and son Robert settled there. He had contracted an advantageous marriage in the spring of 1648, with Catherine, daughter of Sir Robert Gordon, of Gordonstown. The father was the second son of the Earl of Sutherland and second cousin to James I. He was a man of great parts, and held various high offices under the Crown. After his marriage, David Barclay sat in Parliament for Sutherland, and then for Angus and Kincardine. He used his influence to regain possession of his Ury estate which had been seized by General Monk, and to befriend other gentlemen who were in similar trouble, and his success in these efforts made him very popular. Then he retired into private life. In 1663, he lost his excellent wife when Robert was not fifteen. But before her death, she took one step of the greatest moment to Robert. He had been sent to Paris, to finish his education under his uncle's eye. But though his progress must have satisfied even a mother's pride, she, herself a staunch Protestant, felt a great anxiety lest he should adopt the Romish faith. So, when dying of consumption, she obtained from his father the promise that he should be recalled home.This step was farther urged by her mother, good old lady Gordon, in an earnest letter which still exists. Accordingly Col. Barclay visited his brother in Paris in 1664, and after vigorous opposition from him, brought his son home.But the time had come for a complete change in the tone and tenour of David Barclay's life. He had gained renown and position, and had allied himself with a branch of the Royal family, but these had brought him neither peace nor satisfaction. Royal blood is no guarantee against disease and death, and he had had to see his beloved wife fade away and die at the early age of forty-three. He had risked limb and life, and had striven with hand and brain to win renown, and position, and wealth, only to find that these things expose their possessor to special trials and dangers. He had found out by hard experience how uncertain was his tenure of earthly good. His sorrows and disappointments prepared his heart for more earnestness about spiritual truth than he had hitherto manifested, and Quakerism was to present that truth in a form which would satisfy his mind and heart.Perhaps it was whilst on the journey to fetch home his son, that he became closely acquainted with the Quakers. He tells us how he had heard of their simple and conscientious living, and "he considered within himself that if they were really such as even their enemies were forced to acknowledge, there must be something extraordinary about them." Whether or not this knowledge was gained in Aberdeen, where a meeting had been gathered now more than a year, we do not know. But, "being in London" on some errand or other, he had opportunities to enquire into the Quaker principles and practises, which he did to such purpose, that his mind became convinced that their tenets were according to the Scriptures. Still, the cautious Scotchman did not immediately join them.Immediately afterwards we find David Barclay in prison in Edinbro' Castle. Although he had suffered for the king, he was accused of having held office under Cromwell, and it might have gone hardly with him had he not been befriended by his old chief, the Earl of Middleton. Through the influence of that nobleman the proceedings were quashed, and he was liberated.This imprisonment, in the ordering of God's providence, brought to the right issue the great crisis of his life. In the same room with him in Edinbro' Castle was imprisoned Sir John Swintoune, who from a soldier and a Presbyterian had become a thorough Quaker. He was so zealous in propagating his opinions that the only way to silence him was to keep him in solitary confinement, which was at one time done for several weeks. No wonder, then, that he urged on David Barclay the full acceptance of the truth.On leaving the Castle, the colonel seems to have remained in Edinbro' even after he had sent his son, in company with a Quaker, David Falconer, to Ury. In Edinbro' he came out as an acknowledged Friend.He tells us what points satisfied his sober and careful judgment that the Quakers were right. He was struck with the correspondence between their peace principles and Isaiah's prophecy, that in Gospel times they would beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks. Then again, they were all as brothers, loving and standing by each other, and had not Christ said, that his disciples should be known by their mutual love? The courageous soldier was in sympathy with those who, whilst others worshipped God by stealth, bravely dared all persecution by openly assembling to worship God as their consciences dictated. So he thought within himself, that "if the Lord Jesus Christ had a visible Church on earth these must be they." But all this merely cleared the ground for the final and decisive proof, without which he would neverhave made a Friend. Feeling his judgment satisfied by these tests, he yielded his heart to the influence of the truth, and he experienced a peace which insults and sufferings could not disturb, and gained an experimental acquaintance with God that satisfied the cravings of his soul.He became distinguished for his solemn fervour in prayer, his deep piety and uncomplaining meekness in ill-usage—the latter, "a virtue," says one of his descendants, "he was before very much unacquainted with." "One of his relations, upon an occasion of uncommon rudeness, lamenting that he should be now treated so differently from what formerly he had been, he answered, that he found more satisfaction as well as honour in being thus insulted for his religious principles, than when, some years before, it was usual for the magistrates as he passed through Aberdeen, to meet him several miles, and conduct him to a public entertainment in their town-house, and then convey him so far out again, in order to gain his favour." This noble testimony is the subject of one of Whittier's most spirited ballads. The old soldier lived to a ripe old age, his son only surviving him four years.We have thus traced the career of the father, that we may better understand the influences through which the son passed before his hearty acceptance of Quakerism. He belonged to a family divided in religious opinions, some of the Catholic faith, some Protestant to the core. His abilities, connections, and worldly expectations, all invited him to a distinguished career. Yet from the noblest and purest motives he turned away from brilliant prospects, and from older and more respected churches, and linked himself with a new, despised and persecuted sect.Robert Barclay was born at Gordonstown, Oct. 23rd, 1648. From both sides of his parentage, he seems to have inherited scholarly ability and literary tastes. His grandfather, Sir Robert Gordon, was a man of cultureand refinement, and his great-grandfather, John Gordon (father-in-law of Sir Robert), was Dean of Sarum, a good classical scholar and a keen theologian. On the other side, the Barclays seem to have supplied the Catholic church with several theologians and scholars. From early years he gave promise of great intellectual powers, which were sedulously cultivated at the best schools that Scotland possessed. His uncle Robert offered to look after his education, and took him in hand, as he tells us, when he had "scarcely got out of his childhood." But early as he left Scotland for Paris, he carried with him such impressions of the narrowness and bigotry of his Calvinistic countrymen as remained with him through life. In Paris, his uncle and others so skilfully assailed his Protestant instincts that they succumbed, and he became an avowed Catholic. He was a great favourite with his uncle, who purposed making him his heir, and who watched him through his brilliant college course with the greatest delight.But whilst his uncle was thus satisfied, his mother's heart was filled with dismay at the thought of her son growing up a Catholic—a consummation for which his scholarly proficiency was poor compensation. She therefore on her death-bed obtained from his father a promise that her son should be brought home.On this errand the Colonel went to Paris, in 1664. But he found his brother stoutly opposed to parting with his nephew. He met the argument of worldly welfare by offering to buy Robert a larger estate than his father's, and put him in possession immediately. But the boy had a noble reverence for his father in spite of his long absence from home, and his wish settled the question with him, and he replied to all pleas, "He is my father and must be obeyed." So father and son returned home together, and the uncle's property eventually enriched the College of which he was Rector, and other religious houses in France.When David Barclay was passing through that crisis in his spiritual history which resulted in his embracing Quakerism, he made no efforts to win his son to the same view. No doubt he had all a new convert's confidence in the power of "the truth." Probably he had also a Quaker's persuasion that though such efforts might sway the understanding, they could not "reach" the soul. He said he wished the change to come from conviction, not from imitation. The early Friends never considered themselves a sect, and did not seek proselytes so much as they sought to spread deep spiritual life. In the end at least, the laissez-faire method resulted in what the father wished. The son quietly looked around on the different classes of professed Christians. He felt his old repugnance to the Calvinists invincible. The latitudinarians, with all their professed charity and condemnation of "judging," pleased him no better. Finally, he gave his hearty allegiance to Friends within twelve months of his father's admission to their fellowship.It is an interesting question, "What led such a clear and powerful mind to accept Quakerism?"It could not fail to impress such a nature to see the great change which had passed over his father. The warrior and the man of the world had become a consistent Friend, trusting God to plead his cause, anxious most about spiritual wealth, careful most to walk closely and humbly with God. Further, it seemed to him that whilst others were wonderfully strict in creed, the Friends, whom they called heretics, far surpassed them in holy and exemplary living. Lastly, came the evidence that so often in those days turned the scale decisively in favor of the new brotherhood. The very first time that Robert Barclay attended a Friends' meeting he was struck by the awful Presence there; he felt that God was in that place. Some minister who was present used these epigrammatic words, which are said to havemade a great impression on him. "In stilness there is fulness, in fulness there is nothingness, in nothingness there are all things." It is true that we are told that Sir John Swintoune and another Friend named Halliday were specially helpful to him at this critical time. But we have the clearest evidence that what most impressed him and attracted him to Friends was not their ministry, but the marvellous divine influence enjoyed in the period of silent waiting upon God. His intimate friend, Andrew Jaffray, bears testimony that he was "reached" in the time of silence. His own words, too, in his apology are unmistakable; they are introduced into his glowing description of an ideal Friends' meeting, as a personal testimony to the value of silent worship. Speaking of his own conversion, he says, "Who not by strength of argument, or by a particular disquisition of each doctrine, and convincement of my understanding thereby, came to receive and bear witness to the truth, but by being secretly reached by this Life. For when I came into the silent assemblies of God's people, I felt a secret power amongst them which touched my heart; and as I gave way unto it, I found the evil weakening in me, and the good raised up; and so I became thus knit and united unto them, hungering more and more after the increase of this power and life, whereby I might find myself perfectly redeemed." Apology, Prop. XI., Sect. 7.Boy as Barclay was when he returned from Paris, in spite of his precocity it may be questioned whether his surrender of Catholicism cost him much conflict of soul, though he assures us in his "Vindication," he did "turn from that way not without sincere and real convictions of the errors of it." But beyond question, it would cost him a severe struggle to surrender his proud vantage ground as a scholar, and to join a sect who taught not only that learning was not necessary to a saving knowledge of Christ, but also that it had small share inthe efficient ministry of the Gospel. The battle was first fought out in his own search for peace and light. From his childhood he had been ambitious of scholarship. Conscious, as he tells us in the introduction to his treatise on "Universal Love," of abilities beyond the average, he had a pleasure in intellectual pursuits which led him to follow them up with keen relish for their own sakes. But now the appetite was to receive a check, not only that it might ever afterwards keep its right place, but that he might learn how much more effectively God can teach than can the best of men. George Fox had to learn from sad experience that even enlightened Christians cannot stand instead of God. Robert Barclay had to learn by a shorter, but no doubt sharp experience, that his favourite books could do nothing for him in spiritual religion without Christ, and that in spiritual power and spiritual discernment illiterate men might be by far his superiors. He has described the experience in his Apology, when speaking of the insufficiency of learning to make a true minister, and the possibility of being a true minister without it."And if in any age since the Apostles' days, God hath purposed to show his power in weak instruments, for the battering down of the carnal and heathenish wisdom, and restoring again the ancient simplicity of truth, this is it. For in our day, God hath raised up witnesses for himself as he did the fishermen of old, many, yea most of whom are labouring and mechanic men, who, altogether without that learning, have by the power and spirit of God, struck at the very root and ground of Babylon; and in the strength and might of this power have gathered thousands by reaching their consciences into the same power and life, who, as to the outward part, have been far more knowing than they, yet not able to resist the virtue that proceeded from them. Of which I myself am a true witness, and can declare from certain experience; because my heart hath often been greatly broken and tendered by that virtuous life that proceeded from the powerful ministry of those illiterate men.... What shall I say then to you who are lovers of learning and admirers of knowledge? Was not I also a lover and admirer of it, who also sought after it according to my age and capacity. But it pleased God in his unutterable love, early to withstand my vain endeavours, while I was yet but eighteen years of age, and made me seriously to consider (which I wish may also befal others) that without holiness and regeneration no man can see God; and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning ofwisdom, and to depart from iniquity a good understanding; and how much knowledge puffeth up, and leadeth away from that quietness, stillness and humility of mind, where the Lord appears and his heavenly wisdom is revealed.... Therefore, seeing that among them (these excellent, though despised, because illiterate witnesses of God) I with many others, have found the heavenly food that gives contentment, let my soul seek after this learning, and wait for it for ever." Truth Triumphant, p. 426.In the means and mode of his conversion Robert Barclay was like many of his co-religionists in Scotland. It is an interesting feature of Scottish Quakerism that a number of its adherents were not gained by preaching. Many of the early Friends tell us that they adopted the Quaker views before they knew of the existence of any society which held such views. Their hearts yearned after an ideal which they did not find in any existing sect. But when Quakerism was presented to their view, they recognised in it the features which they had learned to love. The case of Alexander Jaffray is fairly representative of others, and his diary enables us to watch the process in minute detail in most of its stages. The awakened soul gets disgusted with chopping logic, and with manipulating the dry bones of a formal theology. It longs for bread and is offered a stone. It longs for pure spiritual life and for true holiness, and for an experimental acquaintance with God that shall satisfy its quickened instincts; and instead it finds the sects around it mostly busied with preparations for living rather than with life, ever constructing scientific scaffolding but not building, keenly discussing the right attitude of the soul towards God rather than having actual dealings with Him. Quakerism comes on the scene and at once commends itself to such a soul by dealing with the practical life, putting the teaching and promises of the Bible to the test of experience, and finding that they actually work and lead to assured conviction, hearty consecration, and holy living. Modern Quakerism has come to be associated with a few negations; primitive Quakerism won its triumphs by arobust and full-blooded spiritual life. The Assembly's catechism correctly defined the chief end of man to be "to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." The Friends exemplified the definition in actual life. Most professing Christians, in spite of their beautifully finished creed, were still in bondage to questions like these: "Shall we succeed in life, and what will men think of us, and how will they treat us, if we act up to our convictions?" Such questions troubled the Quakers very little. They acted as if they believed religion a sufficient end and object in life, worth living for, and worth dying for. This was the way in which they glorified God, and so they did enjoy Him even in this life. They had great peace and joy in believing. The power of God was in their gatherings and attended their ministry. They were mighty in prayer, and did wonders through their strong faith. Their acquaintance with experimental religion was astonishing, and their knowledge of the word of God extensive and practically useful, such as might be expected from men who searched it lovingly, and relied upon its counsels in the affairs of life. Above all they were enabled to do what they most aspired to do, to live a holy life. They were rich not only in gifts but in grace. All this commended Quakerism to such men as Swintoune and Jaffray and the Barclays. It was better proof than the exactest syllogism, and far more satisfying to the soul than the best compacted creed.Henceforth Robert Barclay's life is closely connected with the history of Quakerism, and especially of Quakerism in northern Scotland. He did not travel so much as many Friends beyond his own country in the service of the gospel, but his position, wealth, and learning were freely devoted to the service of "the truth." It is not clear that the same earnest evangelising spirit prevailed in Scotland which inspired the English Friends. For some reason the society never gainedsuch numbers north of the Tweed as it did in England. Possibly they were too jealous of activity. In a letter of Christian Barclay's, written after her husband's death, I find a sad instance of that mischievous overvaluing of silence, which did so much harm amongst the Quakers in the eighteenth century. Writing to Friends in and about Aberdeen, she says, after a warning against "needless jesting,"—"in the bowels of motherly love is my heart towards you all, desiring we may all travel more and more into silence, for it is a safe place. Let all our conversations be more and more in it. Let us all in whatsoever state or station we be in, remember ourselves to be in it. As we are gathered in our minds in it, we shall less and less desire the best of words;for inward silence as far exceedeth the best of words as the marrow exceeds the bone." Certainly, as she goes on to say "the sensible knows beyond expression." But "how forcible are right words!" The spread of this Quietistic spirit amongst Friends effectually stopped the evangelistic work which marked and glorified the early years of their society. It also so dwarfed and discouraged true ministry that the marvel is that the Society survived.Barclay's life belongs to the sad list of bright biographies as it seems to us too soon cut short by death. He died in his prime, when every year seemed to bring increased usefulness and influence for good. He was but eighteen when he was converted, but nineteen when he began to preach; his first controversial work was written when he was twenty-two, and almost the whole of his writings were produced during the next nine years, and yet they fill nine hundred folio pages!The little band of Scottish Friends contained several remarkable men, with whom he had close and continued intercourse. For several years after his conversion, until 1673,Alexander Jaffray(see pp.83&93) survived, infirm in the body, but bright and happy insoul. His long unrest was ended; he had found amongst the Friends the close walk, the pure life, and the godly and loving brotherhood that he had long sought. The only thorns in his dying pillow were the persecuting spirit of the churches, and the non-conversion of his beloved wife. She, however, was so impressed by his death-bed experiences and testimony that she soon afterwards joined the Society.George Keith, a graduate of Aberdeen University, was a zealous advocate of Quakerism by tongue and pen, doing and suffering with a loving zeal, on which he looked back with regretful glances after his decline and perversion. He became a Friend in 1663, and for thirty years was a pillar amongst the brotherhood. His treatises on "Immediate Revelation" and on the "Universal Light, or the Free Grace of God asserted" were highly valued by Friends. He settled in Pennsylvania; but changing his social and religious opinions, he quarreled with his brethren and with the authorities there; and after an attempt to form a new sect of "Christian Friends," he came to England and joined the established church. He was put forward as a resolute opponent of his old allies. But Gough in his History of Friends gives reasons for believing that he was conscious at the last that he had declined in grace at this time. To a Friend who visited him on his dying bed, he is reported to have said, "I wish I had died when I was a Quaker, for then I am sure it would have been well with my soul."John Swintoune, already mentioned, was a frequent visitor at Ury, at Monthly Meetings and other special times. Sir Walter Scott claims him as one of his ancestors. He, like Jaffray, turned from a life of political activity and honours, to a life of hearty devotion to Quakerism. He was of very good family, baron of Swintoune, and at one time one of the Lords of Sessions. He had been so mixed up with the affairs of the commonwealth, that at the Restoration he was thrown intoprison, and was in great peril. But in the meantime the light of divine truth shone into his heart, and when brought to trial, he was more ready to condemn himself than his judges could be, and only anxious to tell of the goodness of God to his soul. Bishop Burnet says "He was then become a Quaker, and did with a sort of eloquence that moved the whole house, lay out his own errors, and the ill-spirit he was in, when he did the things that were charged on him, with so tender a sense, that he seemed as one indifferent what they should do with him; and without so much as moving for mercy, or even for a delay, he did so effectually prevail on them, that they recommended him to the king as a fit object for his mercy." His estates, however, seem not to have been restored to him, for in 1682 we find Robert Barclay opening his liberal purse to assist him. We have seen how useful he was to David Barclay and again to Robert Barclay at the time of their convincement; for besides his religious experience, he had, says the Biographia Brittanica, "as good an education as almost any man in Scotland, which, gained to very strong natural parts, rendered him a most accomplished person."Amongst the pious if not prominent members of the little church at Aberdeen were Bailie Molleson and his wife. The latter died young, but her death-bed was surrounded by a halo of glory through her triumphant faith. Her daughter, Christian, had joined the Friends in her sixteenth year. She won the favourable regard and then the warm affection of the young laird of Ury, and he addressed to her the following religious love-letter.28th of 1st month, 1669."Dear Friend,Having for some time past had it several times upon my mind to have saluted thee in this manner of writing, and to enter into a literal correspondence with thee so far as thy freedom could allow, I am glad that this small occasion hath made way for the beginning of it.The love of thy converse, the desire of thy friendship, the sympathy of thy way, and meekness of thy spirit, has often, as thou mayst have observed, occasioned me to take frequent opportunity to have the benefit of thy company; in which I can truly say I have often been refreshed, and the life in me touched with a sweet unity which flowed from the same in thee, tender flames of pure love have been kindled in my bosom towards thee, and praises have sprung up in me to the God of our salvation, for what he hath done for thee! Many things in the natural will occur to strengthen and encourage my affection toward thee, and make thee acceptable unto me; but that which isbefore all and beyond allis, that I can say in the fear of the Lord that I have received a charge from him to love thee, and for that I know his love is much towards thee; and his blessing and goodness is and shall be unto thee so long as thou abidest in a true sense of it."After speaking of Christian contentment, "from which there is safety which cannot be hurt, and peace which cannot be broken," he warns her against the dangers to which they were both exposed from their easy circumstances, and concludes—"I am sure it will be our great gain so to be kept, that all of us may abide in the pure love of God, in the sense and drawings whereof we can only discern and know how to love one another. In the present flowings thereof I have truly solicited thee, desiring and expecting that in the same thou mayst feel and judge.Robert Barclay."The reader accustomed to modern Quaker phraseology, will be astonished to find it so purely spoken by so young a convert at this early date of the Society's history. But he must remember what is too often overlooked in studying the writings of the early Friends, that the Friends simply adopted in many things the religious phraseology of the times (See Barclay's Inner Life, p.214). But he cannot fail also to be charmed with the blending of love and piety in this epistle. Within a few months of the mother's death, the young couple were married in the simple Quaker fashion. This was the first wedding of the kind in Aberdeen, and it roused in the minds of many ministers and others much unnecessary alarm and irritation. The Bishop of Aberdeen was stirred up to procure letters summoning Robert Barclay before the Privy Council for an unlawful marriage; but, says the Ury record, "the matter was so overruled of the Lord that they never had power to put their summons into execution, so as to do us any prejudice."The conversion of the Barclays to Quakerism seems to have fanned into a flame the fires of persecution both amongst Presbyterians and Episcopalians. The Presbyterians, though suffering persecution themselves, zealously preached against the heretics, and were resolute in excommunicating all who joined them. There is a sad story of one minister who, against his own conscience, was being compelled to excommunicate his own daughter, but fell dead in the pulpit whilst pronouncing the sentence. But the clergy was especially bitter. The Bishop of Aberdeen, Patrick Scougal, and his primate, Archbishop Sharpe, were bent on extirpating the sect, and carried out the system of fine and imprisonment with the utmost vigour. Scougal (father of Henry Scougal, professor of Divinity in Aberdeen University, and whose "Life of God in the soul of man" ranks high amongst our religious classics) was too good for such dirty work. Burnet says of him, contrasting them with his scandalous brother bishops: "There was indeed one Scougal, Bishop of Aberdeen, that was a man of rare temper, great piety, and prudence, but I thought he was too much under Sharpe's conduct, and was at least too easy to him." Sharpe was just in his element in the work. A pervert from Presbyterianism for no other reason thaninterest, he was a suitable tool for thrusting Episcopacy on those who hated it. The wanton insults and high-handed violence which he practiced, roused the bitterest hatred on the part of the populace, and led to his murder. But from the Quakers he had no violence to fear. They would only reason, protest, and pray for him; and on a coarse spirit like his their noble Christian conduct was thrown away. At last in 1672 the declaration of indulgence cut the claws of these persecutors and gave their victims relief.In England the Quakers had a grand service to perform for the nation, in bearing the brunt of the fierce assault made on liberty of conscience. Whilst other dissenters temporised and resorted to stratagems to conceal the fact that they still continued to meet to worship God, the Quakers openly dared the wrath of the authorities, and took gladly the penalties of their faithfulness. In Scotland this faithful service was somewhat varied. In 1662 Episcopacy was established by law, and Presbyterianism put down. But the Covenanters were not easily coerced. They took up arms in defence of their religious liberties. They met to worship God with pistols in their belts, to defend themselves from the troopers sent to break up their meetings and to arrest their preachers. The consequences were conflict and bloodshed. Loyalty to God was confounded with disloyalty to the crown. The Quakers were not slow to condemn this mode of asserting the rights of conscience. Besides complicating the issue, they deemed it inconsistent with faith in God, who was quite competent to vindicate his own cause without appeal to the sword. They set the example of passive endurance of persecution, using only spiritual and peaceful means in resisting interference with the conscience. They appealed to the consciences of their judges; they petitioned the king's council, asserting their loyalty to the throne. But whilst these assertions of loyalty and condemnations of arms wonclemency from the Council, they exasperated the Presbyterians; so that in spite of the fact that they had a common foe to fight, they wasted their strength in persecuting their stoutest allies, the Quakers. In 1661 the "drunken parliament" had met in Edinbro, and vested all executive authority in the king; so that the power of the Council was unlimited. We see, then, the profligate ministers of a dissolute monarch, with Lauderdale at their head, extending protection to the Quakers whom they despised and ridiculed; and checking the rage of exasperated Covenanters, and the violence of domineering clergy.Soon after his marriage, Robert Barclay narrowly missed a first taste of prison life. The "monthly meeting" at Aberdeen (the gathering of the local congregations for denominational business, always preceded by worship) was entered by officers sent by the magistrates to disperse the assembly. They violently dragged to the Council House all the men who were present. There the magistrates endeavoured by fair words to induce them to give up their meeting, and then let them go. If they had had more experience of Friends they would have anticipated what followed. In spite of their recent arrest, the released Friends simply returned to the meeting, and resumed their worship. Soon the officers "appeared again, and with greater fury than before dragged them back to the Council House, where the provost and council reprimanded them for contumacious resistance of civil authority, using much threatening language. But Friends were preserved in a tranquil and innocent boldness, so that 'neither the big words nor yet the barbarous deeds' of their opponents could make them flinch from an honest confession of the true reasons for their conduct." They were all sent to prison, except Patrick Livingstone, and the young laird of Ury. To the eager martyr spirit of the latter, this exemption was quite disappointing. Young as he was,and so recently married, he would gladly have shared the hardships of his brethren.Christian Barclay became a minister of the Society of Friends, but how early we are not told. She was an admirable wife, and an exemplary mother to her seven children, all of whom not only survived their father, but by a remarkable longevity were alive fifty years after his death. She was a noted nurse, and the poor for many miles round sought her advice in sickness. No doubt she used these occasions like a true medical missionary to minister to both body and soul. She lived to be seventy-five years of age, and was greatly lamented, not only by her numerous descendants, but by the poor to whom she had been such a friend, and by the Society to which she belonged, and in whose spiritual welfare she took a deep and life-long interest.Robert Barclay was now fairly settled with his young wife at Ury under his father's roof. His life seems to have been one of retirement and scholarly research. The fathers and theologians engaged his attention, as well as the study of the Holy Scriptures in the original tongues, so that when in 1670 he was drawn into controversy, we find him furnished with a wealth of material with which to illustrate and enforce his arguments. There has been found a MS. volume, dated 1670, consisting of controversial letters addressed by him to one of his uncles, Charles Gordon, and going over the whole ground of the Quaker controversy. This correspondence would form a valuable stepping-stone to his future work. Though his uncle died before the series of letters was complete, Barclay carried out his plan to the end, and preserved the letters on both sides as a memorial of his deceased relative.The occasion of his first work is fully stated in its preface. In September, 1666, the Rev. Geo. Meldrum, of Aberdeen, one of the leading ministers in northern Scotland, preached a sermon specially attacking theQuakers, towards whom he seems to have had a hatred not quite proportioned to his knowledge of them. He laid many grievous charges against them, but was suspiciously anxious that they should not get a copy of his discourse. Soon after this, proceedings were instituted to excommunicate Alexander Jaffray. But his friends raised the sound objection that no attempt had yet been made to reclaim him. So the bishop offered to confer with Jaffray in the presence of Meldrum and his colleague Menzies. But Jaffray, suspicious of one who could attack people in the dark, refused the interview unless he could have witnesses. "At length, Friends being objected to, Jaffray's brother and son who were not Friends were allowed to be present, when the Lord remarkably assisted him in declaring the truth, and defending himself and it against their unjust allegations." One result was that the Bishop directed Meldrum to give Friends a copy of the sermon preached against them, that they might reply to his statements. But instead of complying, Meldrum sent thirty Queries to be answered, and a paper entitled, "The state of the controversy between the Protestants and the Quakers." Jaffray was ill at the time, but George Keith on his behalf answered the Queries at once, and some time afterwards also replied to his paper, and to the sermon, of which they had at last obtained a copy from one of the congregation who heard it. No wonder that the future Apologist questions the honesty of the man who first condemns, and then makes enquiries, "that he might know in what things we did differ, and in what things we only seemed to differ." After giving the desired information, the Friends waited for two years for some reply, or otherwise for a retraction of the charges made. But they waited in vain. At last appeared a "Dialogue between a Quaker and a stable Christian," which Barclay ascribed to a William Mitchell, a neighbouring catechist with whom Patrick Livingstonehad had some disputation. Upon him therefore Robert Barclay fell with all the energy of honest indignation, and with all the resources of a fertile and well stored mind. He entitled his book "Truth cleared of Calumnies." Though bearing the marks of a "prentice hand," many of the qualities of his later style are found in this production. William Penn says "It is written with strength and moderation." If the reader is disposed to question the moderation, he must remember the habits of the age.[14][14]There is in this work an interesting passage ("Truth Triumphant" pp. 29, 30), in which the view of singing held by the early Friends is set forth, which will correct some mistaken impressions. Barclay maintains "that singing is a part of God's worship, and is warrantably performed amongst the saints, is a thing denied by no Quaker so-called, and is not unusual among them, whereof I have myself been a witness, and have felt the sweetness and quickening virtue of the spirit therein, and at such occasions ministered." But they object to a mixed congregation of believers and unconverted persons singing words which in the mouths of many must be lies. (See also the Apology, Prop.II., paragraph 26, &c.)But once launched on the stormy sea of controversy, there was no more rest for him. W. Mitchell acknowledged the authorship of the "Dialogue," and returned to the attack in some "Considerations." This drew forth in rejoinder "William Mitchell unmasked," published 1672. Here we find a more mature style, a fulness of matter, and an ease and power in statement, that are only excelled in the Apology. Says the writer in the Biographia Brittanica: "In this work our author discovers an amazing variety of learning; which shows how good a use he made of his time at Paris, and how thorough a master he was of the scriptures, the fathers, and ecclesiastical history; and with how much skill and judgment he applied them." And a recent writer says "Poor William Mitchell is not only unmasked but extinguished."Some have imagined that Robert Barclay and his friend William Penn introduced into Quakerism a new,more reasonable, and more scholarly tone. But comparing the sixteen or eighteen years of Quakerism before these worthies accepted it, with the subsequent period when they have been supposed to affect its counsels, effectually disposes of this view. Neither in doctrine nor in practice is there any material difference. Quakerism had its scholars before them. Their pre-eminence was rather in popular gifts than in learning, and in statement and illustration of Quaker views rather than in their discovery or modification. As regards the positions of Quakerism that have given offence, Barclay and other scholarly converts accepted them in toto. They speak of the "apostacy" of the churches, and of Quakerism as the only true church. They speak boldly of the spiritual gifts of the brethren. They are severe on "hireling" priests. They argue that justification is one with sanctification. Most of the important passages referring to the authority of Holy Scripture, Barclay applies to the light within.As to practice, nothing has more offended the proprieties of modern life than their imitations of the O. T. prophets, exhibiting themselves as signs. There is no reason to believe that any of the cultured Quakers of the day disapproved of these things; rather they rejoiced in them as part of the manifestation of the restored gifts of olden times. So far from Robert Barclay being superior to George Fox in this matter, he afforded one of the most striking instances on record. This was in 1672, and it happened thus. "On the 24th June, 1672, on awakening early in the morning, he seemed to see a great store of coined money that belonged to him lying upon his table; but several hands came and scattered it from him. Presently the scene appeared changed, and he was 'standing by a marish' filled with a rich yellow matter, which he went about eagerly to gather in his grasp, till plunging in over the ancles, he was like to sink in the bog; then one came and rescued him. Thismarsh, was the world, this matter was the world's goods; the whole thing was to him an intimation of love from the Lord, just as he was beginning more eagerly than before to concern himself in his outward affairs."[15]"The journey in sackcloth," says Mr. Gordon, "was the natural sequence of this impression." That it was "partly a penance of self-expostulation," as he further declares, we in no wise admit. We must take Barclay's own word for it that it was simply done in obedience to a clear conviction of a divine call. "The command of the Lord concerning this thing came unto me that very morning as I awoke, and the burden thereof was very great, yea, seemed almost unsupportable unto me; for such a thing until that very moment had never before entered me, not in the most remote consideration. And some whom I called to declare unto them this thing can bear witness how great was the agony of my spirit,—how I besought the Lord with tears that this cup might pass from me!—yea, how the pillars of my tabernacle were shaken, and how exceedingly my bones trembled, until I freely gave up unto the Lord's will." Truth Triumphant, p. 105.

This sketch was outlined as a companion sketch to those of Fox and Penn. But the opportunity of embodying in it extracts from unpublished letters in the keeping of members of the Barclay family, (for which the author cannot be too grateful,) led to its being enlarged to a disproportionate size. But the reader will not regret this, when he finds himself furnished with new materials throwing light on a character so little understood. To most readers, Barclay is merely a name; the author has attempted to realise the man and his work, as far as the still very imperfect information will allow.

George Fox, that fervid evangelist who anticipated Wesley in claiming the whole world as his parish, visited Scotland only once. This was in 1657. But some years previously, several Quaker ministers, including two lady-evangelists, Catherine Evans and Sarah Cheevers, had preached "the truth" there, and meetings had been gathered, says Sewel the Quaker historian, in Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and other places. JamesNaylerpreached in Scotland as early as 1651, with his usual fervour and success. But no church of professed "Friends" was formed in Aberdeen until 1662, when Alexander Jaffray sometime provost of Aberdeen, one of the Scottish Commissioners to King Charles, and a member of Cromwell's Parliament, was led along with others to a full and open acceptance of Quakerism by William Dewsbury. The number of the names was small, but they were men and women whose energy and sterling worth made them noteworthy. Their decision may be measured by their daring the contempt so profusely accorded the "Friends" by the orthodox; "possessed with the devil, demented, blasphemous deniers of the true Christ" being some of the expressions hurled at them by the neighbouring pulpits. In 1666, they were strengthened by the accession of Colonel David Barclay, and a little later by that of his son, Robert Barclay, the future Apologist of Quakerism. Fully then was the expectation of George Fox realised, of whichhe afterwards told Robert Barclay, in 1675, "As soon as ever my horse set his foot upon the land of the Scottish nation, the infinite sparkles of life sparkled about me; and so as I rid with divers friends, I saw the seed of the seedsman Christ that was sown; but abundance of clods—foul and filthy earth—was above it; and a great winter and storms and tempests of work." "Thick cloddy earth of hypocrisy and falseness atop," says the corresponding passage of his journal, "and a briary brambly nature, which is to be turned up with God's Word, and ploughed up with his spiritual plough, before God's seed brings forth heavenly and spiritual fruit to his glory. But the husbandman is to wait in patience."

David Barclay represented an ancient and honourable family, supposed to be a branch of the Berkeleys in Gloucestershire. He was a lineal descendant of Theobald de Berkeley, born about 1110, who held a large estate in Kincardine, and was conspicuous in the court of David I. In the 15th century, Alexander Berkeley began to spell the name Barclay, and his descendants followed his example.[13]They were a powerful, sometimes a turbulent race, with an occasional instance of a literary or scholarly scion. David Barclay's father having wrecked his fortune by spendthrift and easygoing habits, his sons had to shift for themselves. Three of them died before their father, two in infancy, the third, James, falling at the battle of Philiphaugh, whilst fighting under his brother David. Of the two survivors, the younger, Robert, became a Catholic priest, and flourished in Paris, becoming Rector of the Scottish College there. Of David, the elder and the father of the subject of this sketch, we must speak more at length.

[13]Of the father of this Alexander de Barclay, whose name was David, we read that he was the "ringleader of the savage barons who exaggerated the atrocities of a reckless age by actually boiling an obnoxious sheriff of the Mearns in a cauldron, and then 'suppin' the broo'." Yet the son was something of a poet, and some lines full of good advice, said to be from his pen, are given in the "Short Account of R. Barclay."

[13]Of the father of this Alexander de Barclay, whose name was David, we read that he was the "ringleader of the savage barons who exaggerated the atrocities of a reckless age by actually boiling an obnoxious sheriff of the Mearns in a cauldron, and then 'suppin' the broo'." Yet the son was something of a poet, and some lines full of good advice, said to be from his pen, are given in the "Short Account of R. Barclay."

David Barclay was born at Kirtounhill, in 1610. The only patrimony he got from his father was a good education: for in 1633, the old family estates were sold to pay off his father's debts. Finding that he had to make his own way in the world, with all the energy of his race he "flung himself into the saddle of opportunity as a soldier of fortune," and rose to the rank of major in the army of Gustavus Adolphus, specially distinguishing himself at Lutzen. Returning home with substantial gains as well as honours, when the civil war broke out he became a colonel in the Royal Army. He fought under Leslie at Philiphaugh, and effectively assisted Middleton in holding the north, until Cromwell removed him from command, after his victory at Preston-pans. Then he retired from military service, bought the Ury estate, and with his wife and son Robert settled there. He had contracted an advantageous marriage in the spring of 1648, with Catherine, daughter of Sir Robert Gordon, of Gordonstown. The father was the second son of the Earl of Sutherland and second cousin to James I. He was a man of great parts, and held various high offices under the Crown. After his marriage, David Barclay sat in Parliament for Sutherland, and then for Angus and Kincardine. He used his influence to regain possession of his Ury estate which had been seized by General Monk, and to befriend other gentlemen who were in similar trouble, and his success in these efforts made him very popular. Then he retired into private life. In 1663, he lost his excellent wife when Robert was not fifteen. But before her death, she took one step of the greatest moment to Robert. He had been sent to Paris, to finish his education under his uncle's eye. But though his progress must have satisfied even a mother's pride, she, herself a staunch Protestant, felt a great anxiety lest he should adopt the Romish faith. So, when dying of consumption, she obtained from his father the promise that he should be recalled home.This step was farther urged by her mother, good old lady Gordon, in an earnest letter which still exists. Accordingly Col. Barclay visited his brother in Paris in 1664, and after vigorous opposition from him, brought his son home.

But the time had come for a complete change in the tone and tenour of David Barclay's life. He had gained renown and position, and had allied himself with a branch of the Royal family, but these had brought him neither peace nor satisfaction. Royal blood is no guarantee against disease and death, and he had had to see his beloved wife fade away and die at the early age of forty-three. He had risked limb and life, and had striven with hand and brain to win renown, and position, and wealth, only to find that these things expose their possessor to special trials and dangers. He had found out by hard experience how uncertain was his tenure of earthly good. His sorrows and disappointments prepared his heart for more earnestness about spiritual truth than he had hitherto manifested, and Quakerism was to present that truth in a form which would satisfy his mind and heart.

Perhaps it was whilst on the journey to fetch home his son, that he became closely acquainted with the Quakers. He tells us how he had heard of their simple and conscientious living, and "he considered within himself that if they were really such as even their enemies were forced to acknowledge, there must be something extraordinary about them." Whether or not this knowledge was gained in Aberdeen, where a meeting had been gathered now more than a year, we do not know. But, "being in London" on some errand or other, he had opportunities to enquire into the Quaker principles and practises, which he did to such purpose, that his mind became convinced that their tenets were according to the Scriptures. Still, the cautious Scotchman did not immediately join them.

Immediately afterwards we find David Barclay in prison in Edinbro' Castle. Although he had suffered for the king, he was accused of having held office under Cromwell, and it might have gone hardly with him had he not been befriended by his old chief, the Earl of Middleton. Through the influence of that nobleman the proceedings were quashed, and he was liberated.

This imprisonment, in the ordering of God's providence, brought to the right issue the great crisis of his life. In the same room with him in Edinbro' Castle was imprisoned Sir John Swintoune, who from a soldier and a Presbyterian had become a thorough Quaker. He was so zealous in propagating his opinions that the only way to silence him was to keep him in solitary confinement, which was at one time done for several weeks. No wonder, then, that he urged on David Barclay the full acceptance of the truth.

On leaving the Castle, the colonel seems to have remained in Edinbro' even after he had sent his son, in company with a Quaker, David Falconer, to Ury. In Edinbro' he came out as an acknowledged Friend.

He tells us what points satisfied his sober and careful judgment that the Quakers were right. He was struck with the correspondence between their peace principles and Isaiah's prophecy, that in Gospel times they would beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks. Then again, they were all as brothers, loving and standing by each other, and had not Christ said, that his disciples should be known by their mutual love? The courageous soldier was in sympathy with those who, whilst others worshipped God by stealth, bravely dared all persecution by openly assembling to worship God as their consciences dictated. So he thought within himself, that "if the Lord Jesus Christ had a visible Church on earth these must be they." But all this merely cleared the ground for the final and decisive proof, without which he would neverhave made a Friend. Feeling his judgment satisfied by these tests, he yielded his heart to the influence of the truth, and he experienced a peace which insults and sufferings could not disturb, and gained an experimental acquaintance with God that satisfied the cravings of his soul.

He became distinguished for his solemn fervour in prayer, his deep piety and uncomplaining meekness in ill-usage—the latter, "a virtue," says one of his descendants, "he was before very much unacquainted with." "One of his relations, upon an occasion of uncommon rudeness, lamenting that he should be now treated so differently from what formerly he had been, he answered, that he found more satisfaction as well as honour in being thus insulted for his religious principles, than when, some years before, it was usual for the magistrates as he passed through Aberdeen, to meet him several miles, and conduct him to a public entertainment in their town-house, and then convey him so far out again, in order to gain his favour." This noble testimony is the subject of one of Whittier's most spirited ballads. The old soldier lived to a ripe old age, his son only surviving him four years.

We have thus traced the career of the father, that we may better understand the influences through which the son passed before his hearty acceptance of Quakerism. He belonged to a family divided in religious opinions, some of the Catholic faith, some Protestant to the core. His abilities, connections, and worldly expectations, all invited him to a distinguished career. Yet from the noblest and purest motives he turned away from brilliant prospects, and from older and more respected churches, and linked himself with a new, despised and persecuted sect.

Robert Barclay was born at Gordonstown, Oct. 23rd, 1648. From both sides of his parentage, he seems to have inherited scholarly ability and literary tastes. His grandfather, Sir Robert Gordon, was a man of cultureand refinement, and his great-grandfather, John Gordon (father-in-law of Sir Robert), was Dean of Sarum, a good classical scholar and a keen theologian. On the other side, the Barclays seem to have supplied the Catholic church with several theologians and scholars. From early years he gave promise of great intellectual powers, which were sedulously cultivated at the best schools that Scotland possessed. His uncle Robert offered to look after his education, and took him in hand, as he tells us, when he had "scarcely got out of his childhood." But early as he left Scotland for Paris, he carried with him such impressions of the narrowness and bigotry of his Calvinistic countrymen as remained with him through life. In Paris, his uncle and others so skilfully assailed his Protestant instincts that they succumbed, and he became an avowed Catholic. He was a great favourite with his uncle, who purposed making him his heir, and who watched him through his brilliant college course with the greatest delight.

But whilst his uncle was thus satisfied, his mother's heart was filled with dismay at the thought of her son growing up a Catholic—a consummation for which his scholarly proficiency was poor compensation. She therefore on her death-bed obtained from his father a promise that her son should be brought home.

On this errand the Colonel went to Paris, in 1664. But he found his brother stoutly opposed to parting with his nephew. He met the argument of worldly welfare by offering to buy Robert a larger estate than his father's, and put him in possession immediately. But the boy had a noble reverence for his father in spite of his long absence from home, and his wish settled the question with him, and he replied to all pleas, "He is my father and must be obeyed." So father and son returned home together, and the uncle's property eventually enriched the College of which he was Rector, and other religious houses in France.

When David Barclay was passing through that crisis in his spiritual history which resulted in his embracing Quakerism, he made no efforts to win his son to the same view. No doubt he had all a new convert's confidence in the power of "the truth." Probably he had also a Quaker's persuasion that though such efforts might sway the understanding, they could not "reach" the soul. He said he wished the change to come from conviction, not from imitation. The early Friends never considered themselves a sect, and did not seek proselytes so much as they sought to spread deep spiritual life. In the end at least, the laissez-faire method resulted in what the father wished. The son quietly looked around on the different classes of professed Christians. He felt his old repugnance to the Calvinists invincible. The latitudinarians, with all their professed charity and condemnation of "judging," pleased him no better. Finally, he gave his hearty allegiance to Friends within twelve months of his father's admission to their fellowship.

It is an interesting question, "What led such a clear and powerful mind to accept Quakerism?"

It could not fail to impress such a nature to see the great change which had passed over his father. The warrior and the man of the world had become a consistent Friend, trusting God to plead his cause, anxious most about spiritual wealth, careful most to walk closely and humbly with God. Further, it seemed to him that whilst others were wonderfully strict in creed, the Friends, whom they called heretics, far surpassed them in holy and exemplary living. Lastly, came the evidence that so often in those days turned the scale decisively in favor of the new brotherhood. The very first time that Robert Barclay attended a Friends' meeting he was struck by the awful Presence there; he felt that God was in that place. Some minister who was present used these epigrammatic words, which are said to havemade a great impression on him. "In stilness there is fulness, in fulness there is nothingness, in nothingness there are all things." It is true that we are told that Sir John Swintoune and another Friend named Halliday were specially helpful to him at this critical time. But we have the clearest evidence that what most impressed him and attracted him to Friends was not their ministry, but the marvellous divine influence enjoyed in the period of silent waiting upon God. His intimate friend, Andrew Jaffray, bears testimony that he was "reached" in the time of silence. His own words, too, in his apology are unmistakable; they are introduced into his glowing description of an ideal Friends' meeting, as a personal testimony to the value of silent worship. Speaking of his own conversion, he says, "Who not by strength of argument, or by a particular disquisition of each doctrine, and convincement of my understanding thereby, came to receive and bear witness to the truth, but by being secretly reached by this Life. For when I came into the silent assemblies of God's people, I felt a secret power amongst them which touched my heart; and as I gave way unto it, I found the evil weakening in me, and the good raised up; and so I became thus knit and united unto them, hungering more and more after the increase of this power and life, whereby I might find myself perfectly redeemed." Apology, Prop. XI., Sect. 7.

Boy as Barclay was when he returned from Paris, in spite of his precocity it may be questioned whether his surrender of Catholicism cost him much conflict of soul, though he assures us in his "Vindication," he did "turn from that way not without sincere and real convictions of the errors of it." But beyond question, it would cost him a severe struggle to surrender his proud vantage ground as a scholar, and to join a sect who taught not only that learning was not necessary to a saving knowledge of Christ, but also that it had small share inthe efficient ministry of the Gospel. The battle was first fought out in his own search for peace and light. From his childhood he had been ambitious of scholarship. Conscious, as he tells us in the introduction to his treatise on "Universal Love," of abilities beyond the average, he had a pleasure in intellectual pursuits which led him to follow them up with keen relish for their own sakes. But now the appetite was to receive a check, not only that it might ever afterwards keep its right place, but that he might learn how much more effectively God can teach than can the best of men. George Fox had to learn from sad experience that even enlightened Christians cannot stand instead of God. Robert Barclay had to learn by a shorter, but no doubt sharp experience, that his favourite books could do nothing for him in spiritual religion without Christ, and that in spiritual power and spiritual discernment illiterate men might be by far his superiors. He has described the experience in his Apology, when speaking of the insufficiency of learning to make a true minister, and the possibility of being a true minister without it.

"And if in any age since the Apostles' days, God hath purposed to show his power in weak instruments, for the battering down of the carnal and heathenish wisdom, and restoring again the ancient simplicity of truth, this is it. For in our day, God hath raised up witnesses for himself as he did the fishermen of old, many, yea most of whom are labouring and mechanic men, who, altogether without that learning, have by the power and spirit of God, struck at the very root and ground of Babylon; and in the strength and might of this power have gathered thousands by reaching their consciences into the same power and life, who, as to the outward part, have been far more knowing than they, yet not able to resist the virtue that proceeded from them. Of which I myself am a true witness, and can declare from certain experience; because my heart hath often been greatly broken and tendered by that virtuous life that proceeded from the powerful ministry of those illiterate men.... What shall I say then to you who are lovers of learning and admirers of knowledge? Was not I also a lover and admirer of it, who also sought after it according to my age and capacity. But it pleased God in his unutterable love, early to withstand my vain endeavours, while I was yet but eighteen years of age, and made me seriously to consider (which I wish may also befal others) that without holiness and regeneration no man can see God; and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning ofwisdom, and to depart from iniquity a good understanding; and how much knowledge puffeth up, and leadeth away from that quietness, stillness and humility of mind, where the Lord appears and his heavenly wisdom is revealed.... Therefore, seeing that among them (these excellent, though despised, because illiterate witnesses of God) I with many others, have found the heavenly food that gives contentment, let my soul seek after this learning, and wait for it for ever." Truth Triumphant, p. 426.

"And if in any age since the Apostles' days, God hath purposed to show his power in weak instruments, for the battering down of the carnal and heathenish wisdom, and restoring again the ancient simplicity of truth, this is it. For in our day, God hath raised up witnesses for himself as he did the fishermen of old, many, yea most of whom are labouring and mechanic men, who, altogether without that learning, have by the power and spirit of God, struck at the very root and ground of Babylon; and in the strength and might of this power have gathered thousands by reaching their consciences into the same power and life, who, as to the outward part, have been far more knowing than they, yet not able to resist the virtue that proceeded from them. Of which I myself am a true witness, and can declare from certain experience; because my heart hath often been greatly broken and tendered by that virtuous life that proceeded from the powerful ministry of those illiterate men.... What shall I say then to you who are lovers of learning and admirers of knowledge? Was not I also a lover and admirer of it, who also sought after it according to my age and capacity. But it pleased God in his unutterable love, early to withstand my vain endeavours, while I was yet but eighteen years of age, and made me seriously to consider (which I wish may also befal others) that without holiness and regeneration no man can see God; and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning ofwisdom, and to depart from iniquity a good understanding; and how much knowledge puffeth up, and leadeth away from that quietness, stillness and humility of mind, where the Lord appears and his heavenly wisdom is revealed.... Therefore, seeing that among them (these excellent, though despised, because illiterate witnesses of God) I with many others, have found the heavenly food that gives contentment, let my soul seek after this learning, and wait for it for ever." Truth Triumphant, p. 426.

In the means and mode of his conversion Robert Barclay was like many of his co-religionists in Scotland. It is an interesting feature of Scottish Quakerism that a number of its adherents were not gained by preaching. Many of the early Friends tell us that they adopted the Quaker views before they knew of the existence of any society which held such views. Their hearts yearned after an ideal which they did not find in any existing sect. But when Quakerism was presented to their view, they recognised in it the features which they had learned to love. The case of Alexander Jaffray is fairly representative of others, and his diary enables us to watch the process in minute detail in most of its stages. The awakened soul gets disgusted with chopping logic, and with manipulating the dry bones of a formal theology. It longs for bread and is offered a stone. It longs for pure spiritual life and for true holiness, and for an experimental acquaintance with God that shall satisfy its quickened instincts; and instead it finds the sects around it mostly busied with preparations for living rather than with life, ever constructing scientific scaffolding but not building, keenly discussing the right attitude of the soul towards God rather than having actual dealings with Him. Quakerism comes on the scene and at once commends itself to such a soul by dealing with the practical life, putting the teaching and promises of the Bible to the test of experience, and finding that they actually work and lead to assured conviction, hearty consecration, and holy living. Modern Quakerism has come to be associated with a few negations; primitive Quakerism won its triumphs by arobust and full-blooded spiritual life. The Assembly's catechism correctly defined the chief end of man to be "to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." The Friends exemplified the definition in actual life. Most professing Christians, in spite of their beautifully finished creed, were still in bondage to questions like these: "Shall we succeed in life, and what will men think of us, and how will they treat us, if we act up to our convictions?" Such questions troubled the Quakers very little. They acted as if they believed religion a sufficient end and object in life, worth living for, and worth dying for. This was the way in which they glorified God, and so they did enjoy Him even in this life. They had great peace and joy in believing. The power of God was in their gatherings and attended their ministry. They were mighty in prayer, and did wonders through their strong faith. Their acquaintance with experimental religion was astonishing, and their knowledge of the word of God extensive and practically useful, such as might be expected from men who searched it lovingly, and relied upon its counsels in the affairs of life. Above all they were enabled to do what they most aspired to do, to live a holy life. They were rich not only in gifts but in grace. All this commended Quakerism to such men as Swintoune and Jaffray and the Barclays. It was better proof than the exactest syllogism, and far more satisfying to the soul than the best compacted creed.

Henceforth Robert Barclay's life is closely connected with the history of Quakerism, and especially of Quakerism in northern Scotland. He did not travel so much as many Friends beyond his own country in the service of the gospel, but his position, wealth, and learning were freely devoted to the service of "the truth." It is not clear that the same earnest evangelising spirit prevailed in Scotland which inspired the English Friends. For some reason the society never gainedsuch numbers north of the Tweed as it did in England. Possibly they were too jealous of activity. In a letter of Christian Barclay's, written after her husband's death, I find a sad instance of that mischievous overvaluing of silence, which did so much harm amongst the Quakers in the eighteenth century. Writing to Friends in and about Aberdeen, she says, after a warning against "needless jesting,"—"in the bowels of motherly love is my heart towards you all, desiring we may all travel more and more into silence, for it is a safe place. Let all our conversations be more and more in it. Let us all in whatsoever state or station we be in, remember ourselves to be in it. As we are gathered in our minds in it, we shall less and less desire the best of words;for inward silence as far exceedeth the best of words as the marrow exceeds the bone." Certainly, as she goes on to say "the sensible knows beyond expression." But "how forcible are right words!" The spread of this Quietistic spirit amongst Friends effectually stopped the evangelistic work which marked and glorified the early years of their society. It also so dwarfed and discouraged true ministry that the marvel is that the Society survived.

Barclay's life belongs to the sad list of bright biographies as it seems to us too soon cut short by death. He died in his prime, when every year seemed to bring increased usefulness and influence for good. He was but eighteen when he was converted, but nineteen when he began to preach; his first controversial work was written when he was twenty-two, and almost the whole of his writings were produced during the next nine years, and yet they fill nine hundred folio pages!

The little band of Scottish Friends contained several remarkable men, with whom he had close and continued intercourse. For several years after his conversion, until 1673,Alexander Jaffray(see pp.83&93) survived, infirm in the body, but bright and happy insoul. His long unrest was ended; he had found amongst the Friends the close walk, the pure life, and the godly and loving brotherhood that he had long sought. The only thorns in his dying pillow were the persecuting spirit of the churches, and the non-conversion of his beloved wife. She, however, was so impressed by his death-bed experiences and testimony that she soon afterwards joined the Society.George Keith, a graduate of Aberdeen University, was a zealous advocate of Quakerism by tongue and pen, doing and suffering with a loving zeal, on which he looked back with regretful glances after his decline and perversion. He became a Friend in 1663, and for thirty years was a pillar amongst the brotherhood. His treatises on "Immediate Revelation" and on the "Universal Light, or the Free Grace of God asserted" were highly valued by Friends. He settled in Pennsylvania; but changing his social and religious opinions, he quarreled with his brethren and with the authorities there; and after an attempt to form a new sect of "Christian Friends," he came to England and joined the established church. He was put forward as a resolute opponent of his old allies. But Gough in his History of Friends gives reasons for believing that he was conscious at the last that he had declined in grace at this time. To a Friend who visited him on his dying bed, he is reported to have said, "I wish I had died when I was a Quaker, for then I am sure it would have been well with my soul."John Swintoune, already mentioned, was a frequent visitor at Ury, at Monthly Meetings and other special times. Sir Walter Scott claims him as one of his ancestors. He, like Jaffray, turned from a life of political activity and honours, to a life of hearty devotion to Quakerism. He was of very good family, baron of Swintoune, and at one time one of the Lords of Sessions. He had been so mixed up with the affairs of the commonwealth, that at the Restoration he was thrown intoprison, and was in great peril. But in the meantime the light of divine truth shone into his heart, and when brought to trial, he was more ready to condemn himself than his judges could be, and only anxious to tell of the goodness of God to his soul. Bishop Burnet says "He was then become a Quaker, and did with a sort of eloquence that moved the whole house, lay out his own errors, and the ill-spirit he was in, when he did the things that were charged on him, with so tender a sense, that he seemed as one indifferent what they should do with him; and without so much as moving for mercy, or even for a delay, he did so effectually prevail on them, that they recommended him to the king as a fit object for his mercy." His estates, however, seem not to have been restored to him, for in 1682 we find Robert Barclay opening his liberal purse to assist him. We have seen how useful he was to David Barclay and again to Robert Barclay at the time of their convincement; for besides his religious experience, he had, says the Biographia Brittanica, "as good an education as almost any man in Scotland, which, gained to very strong natural parts, rendered him a most accomplished person."

Amongst the pious if not prominent members of the little church at Aberdeen were Bailie Molleson and his wife. The latter died young, but her death-bed was surrounded by a halo of glory through her triumphant faith. Her daughter, Christian, had joined the Friends in her sixteenth year. She won the favourable regard and then the warm affection of the young laird of Ury, and he addressed to her the following religious love-letter.

28th of 1st month, 1669."Dear Friend,Having for some time past had it several times upon my mind to have saluted thee in this manner of writing, and to enter into a literal correspondence with thee so far as thy freedom could allow, I am glad that this small occasion hath made way for the beginning of it.The love of thy converse, the desire of thy friendship, the sympathy of thy way, and meekness of thy spirit, has often, as thou mayst have observed, occasioned me to take frequent opportunity to have the benefit of thy company; in which I can truly say I have often been refreshed, and the life in me touched with a sweet unity which flowed from the same in thee, tender flames of pure love have been kindled in my bosom towards thee, and praises have sprung up in me to the God of our salvation, for what he hath done for thee! Many things in the natural will occur to strengthen and encourage my affection toward thee, and make thee acceptable unto me; but that which isbefore all and beyond allis, that I can say in the fear of the Lord that I have received a charge from him to love thee, and for that I know his love is much towards thee; and his blessing and goodness is and shall be unto thee so long as thou abidest in a true sense of it."After speaking of Christian contentment, "from which there is safety which cannot be hurt, and peace which cannot be broken," he warns her against the dangers to which they were both exposed from their easy circumstances, and concludes—"I am sure it will be our great gain so to be kept, that all of us may abide in the pure love of God, in the sense and drawings whereof we can only discern and know how to love one another. In the present flowings thereof I have truly solicited thee, desiring and expecting that in the same thou mayst feel and judge.Robert Barclay."

28th of 1st month, 1669.

"Dear Friend,

Having for some time past had it several times upon my mind to have saluted thee in this manner of writing, and to enter into a literal correspondence with thee so far as thy freedom could allow, I am glad that this small occasion hath made way for the beginning of it.

The love of thy converse, the desire of thy friendship, the sympathy of thy way, and meekness of thy spirit, has often, as thou mayst have observed, occasioned me to take frequent opportunity to have the benefit of thy company; in which I can truly say I have often been refreshed, and the life in me touched with a sweet unity which flowed from the same in thee, tender flames of pure love have been kindled in my bosom towards thee, and praises have sprung up in me to the God of our salvation, for what he hath done for thee! Many things in the natural will occur to strengthen and encourage my affection toward thee, and make thee acceptable unto me; but that which isbefore all and beyond allis, that I can say in the fear of the Lord that I have received a charge from him to love thee, and for that I know his love is much towards thee; and his blessing and goodness is and shall be unto thee so long as thou abidest in a true sense of it."

After speaking of Christian contentment, "from which there is safety which cannot be hurt, and peace which cannot be broken," he warns her against the dangers to which they were both exposed from their easy circumstances, and concludes—"I am sure it will be our great gain so to be kept, that all of us may abide in the pure love of God, in the sense and drawings whereof we can only discern and know how to love one another. In the present flowings thereof I have truly solicited thee, desiring and expecting that in the same thou mayst feel and judge.

Robert Barclay."

The reader accustomed to modern Quaker phraseology, will be astonished to find it so purely spoken by so young a convert at this early date of the Society's history. But he must remember what is too often overlooked in studying the writings of the early Friends, that the Friends simply adopted in many things the religious phraseology of the times (See Barclay's Inner Life, p.214). But he cannot fail also to be charmed with the blending of love and piety in this epistle. Within a few months of the mother's death, the young couple were married in the simple Quaker fashion. This was the first wedding of the kind in Aberdeen, and it roused in the minds of many ministers and others much unnecessary alarm and irritation. The Bishop of Aberdeen was stirred up to procure letters summoning Robert Barclay before the Privy Council for an unlawful marriage; but, says the Ury record, "the matter was so overruled of the Lord that they never had power to put their summons into execution, so as to do us any prejudice."

The conversion of the Barclays to Quakerism seems to have fanned into a flame the fires of persecution both amongst Presbyterians and Episcopalians. The Presbyterians, though suffering persecution themselves, zealously preached against the heretics, and were resolute in excommunicating all who joined them. There is a sad story of one minister who, against his own conscience, was being compelled to excommunicate his own daughter, but fell dead in the pulpit whilst pronouncing the sentence. But the clergy was especially bitter. The Bishop of Aberdeen, Patrick Scougal, and his primate, Archbishop Sharpe, were bent on extirpating the sect, and carried out the system of fine and imprisonment with the utmost vigour. Scougal (father of Henry Scougal, professor of Divinity in Aberdeen University, and whose "Life of God in the soul of man" ranks high amongst our religious classics) was too good for such dirty work. Burnet says of him, contrasting them with his scandalous brother bishops: "There was indeed one Scougal, Bishop of Aberdeen, that was a man of rare temper, great piety, and prudence, but I thought he was too much under Sharpe's conduct, and was at least too easy to him." Sharpe was just in his element in the work. A pervert from Presbyterianism for no other reason thaninterest, he was a suitable tool for thrusting Episcopacy on those who hated it. The wanton insults and high-handed violence which he practiced, roused the bitterest hatred on the part of the populace, and led to his murder. But from the Quakers he had no violence to fear. They would only reason, protest, and pray for him; and on a coarse spirit like his their noble Christian conduct was thrown away. At last in 1672 the declaration of indulgence cut the claws of these persecutors and gave their victims relief.

In England the Quakers had a grand service to perform for the nation, in bearing the brunt of the fierce assault made on liberty of conscience. Whilst other dissenters temporised and resorted to stratagems to conceal the fact that they still continued to meet to worship God, the Quakers openly dared the wrath of the authorities, and took gladly the penalties of their faithfulness. In Scotland this faithful service was somewhat varied. In 1662 Episcopacy was established by law, and Presbyterianism put down. But the Covenanters were not easily coerced. They took up arms in defence of their religious liberties. They met to worship God with pistols in their belts, to defend themselves from the troopers sent to break up their meetings and to arrest their preachers. The consequences were conflict and bloodshed. Loyalty to God was confounded with disloyalty to the crown. The Quakers were not slow to condemn this mode of asserting the rights of conscience. Besides complicating the issue, they deemed it inconsistent with faith in God, who was quite competent to vindicate his own cause without appeal to the sword. They set the example of passive endurance of persecution, using only spiritual and peaceful means in resisting interference with the conscience. They appealed to the consciences of their judges; they petitioned the king's council, asserting their loyalty to the throne. But whilst these assertions of loyalty and condemnations of arms wonclemency from the Council, they exasperated the Presbyterians; so that in spite of the fact that they had a common foe to fight, they wasted their strength in persecuting their stoutest allies, the Quakers. In 1661 the "drunken parliament" had met in Edinbro, and vested all executive authority in the king; so that the power of the Council was unlimited. We see, then, the profligate ministers of a dissolute monarch, with Lauderdale at their head, extending protection to the Quakers whom they despised and ridiculed; and checking the rage of exasperated Covenanters, and the violence of domineering clergy.

Soon after his marriage, Robert Barclay narrowly missed a first taste of prison life. The "monthly meeting" at Aberdeen (the gathering of the local congregations for denominational business, always preceded by worship) was entered by officers sent by the magistrates to disperse the assembly. They violently dragged to the Council House all the men who were present. There the magistrates endeavoured by fair words to induce them to give up their meeting, and then let them go. If they had had more experience of Friends they would have anticipated what followed. In spite of their recent arrest, the released Friends simply returned to the meeting, and resumed their worship. Soon the officers "appeared again, and with greater fury than before dragged them back to the Council House, where the provost and council reprimanded them for contumacious resistance of civil authority, using much threatening language. But Friends were preserved in a tranquil and innocent boldness, so that 'neither the big words nor yet the barbarous deeds' of their opponents could make them flinch from an honest confession of the true reasons for their conduct." They were all sent to prison, except Patrick Livingstone, and the young laird of Ury. To the eager martyr spirit of the latter, this exemption was quite disappointing. Young as he was,and so recently married, he would gladly have shared the hardships of his brethren.

Christian Barclay became a minister of the Society of Friends, but how early we are not told. She was an admirable wife, and an exemplary mother to her seven children, all of whom not only survived their father, but by a remarkable longevity were alive fifty years after his death. She was a noted nurse, and the poor for many miles round sought her advice in sickness. No doubt she used these occasions like a true medical missionary to minister to both body and soul. She lived to be seventy-five years of age, and was greatly lamented, not only by her numerous descendants, but by the poor to whom she had been such a friend, and by the Society to which she belonged, and in whose spiritual welfare she took a deep and life-long interest.

Robert Barclay was now fairly settled with his young wife at Ury under his father's roof. His life seems to have been one of retirement and scholarly research. The fathers and theologians engaged his attention, as well as the study of the Holy Scriptures in the original tongues, so that when in 1670 he was drawn into controversy, we find him furnished with a wealth of material with which to illustrate and enforce his arguments. There has been found a MS. volume, dated 1670, consisting of controversial letters addressed by him to one of his uncles, Charles Gordon, and going over the whole ground of the Quaker controversy. This correspondence would form a valuable stepping-stone to his future work. Though his uncle died before the series of letters was complete, Barclay carried out his plan to the end, and preserved the letters on both sides as a memorial of his deceased relative.

The occasion of his first work is fully stated in its preface. In September, 1666, the Rev. Geo. Meldrum, of Aberdeen, one of the leading ministers in northern Scotland, preached a sermon specially attacking theQuakers, towards whom he seems to have had a hatred not quite proportioned to his knowledge of them. He laid many grievous charges against them, but was suspiciously anxious that they should not get a copy of his discourse. Soon after this, proceedings were instituted to excommunicate Alexander Jaffray. But his friends raised the sound objection that no attempt had yet been made to reclaim him. So the bishop offered to confer with Jaffray in the presence of Meldrum and his colleague Menzies. But Jaffray, suspicious of one who could attack people in the dark, refused the interview unless he could have witnesses. "At length, Friends being objected to, Jaffray's brother and son who were not Friends were allowed to be present, when the Lord remarkably assisted him in declaring the truth, and defending himself and it against their unjust allegations." One result was that the Bishop directed Meldrum to give Friends a copy of the sermon preached against them, that they might reply to his statements. But instead of complying, Meldrum sent thirty Queries to be answered, and a paper entitled, "The state of the controversy between the Protestants and the Quakers." Jaffray was ill at the time, but George Keith on his behalf answered the Queries at once, and some time afterwards also replied to his paper, and to the sermon, of which they had at last obtained a copy from one of the congregation who heard it. No wonder that the future Apologist questions the honesty of the man who first condemns, and then makes enquiries, "that he might know in what things we did differ, and in what things we only seemed to differ." After giving the desired information, the Friends waited for two years for some reply, or otherwise for a retraction of the charges made. But they waited in vain. At last appeared a "Dialogue between a Quaker and a stable Christian," which Barclay ascribed to a William Mitchell, a neighbouring catechist with whom Patrick Livingstonehad had some disputation. Upon him therefore Robert Barclay fell with all the energy of honest indignation, and with all the resources of a fertile and well stored mind. He entitled his book "Truth cleared of Calumnies." Though bearing the marks of a "prentice hand," many of the qualities of his later style are found in this production. William Penn says "It is written with strength and moderation." If the reader is disposed to question the moderation, he must remember the habits of the age.[14]

[14]There is in this work an interesting passage ("Truth Triumphant" pp. 29, 30), in which the view of singing held by the early Friends is set forth, which will correct some mistaken impressions. Barclay maintains "that singing is a part of God's worship, and is warrantably performed amongst the saints, is a thing denied by no Quaker so-called, and is not unusual among them, whereof I have myself been a witness, and have felt the sweetness and quickening virtue of the spirit therein, and at such occasions ministered." But they object to a mixed congregation of believers and unconverted persons singing words which in the mouths of many must be lies. (See also the Apology, Prop.II., paragraph 26, &c.)

[14]There is in this work an interesting passage ("Truth Triumphant" pp. 29, 30), in which the view of singing held by the early Friends is set forth, which will correct some mistaken impressions. Barclay maintains "that singing is a part of God's worship, and is warrantably performed amongst the saints, is a thing denied by no Quaker so-called, and is not unusual among them, whereof I have myself been a witness, and have felt the sweetness and quickening virtue of the spirit therein, and at such occasions ministered." But they object to a mixed congregation of believers and unconverted persons singing words which in the mouths of many must be lies. (See also the Apology, Prop.II., paragraph 26, &c.)

But once launched on the stormy sea of controversy, there was no more rest for him. W. Mitchell acknowledged the authorship of the "Dialogue," and returned to the attack in some "Considerations." This drew forth in rejoinder "William Mitchell unmasked," published 1672. Here we find a more mature style, a fulness of matter, and an ease and power in statement, that are only excelled in the Apology. Says the writer in the Biographia Brittanica: "In this work our author discovers an amazing variety of learning; which shows how good a use he made of his time at Paris, and how thorough a master he was of the scriptures, the fathers, and ecclesiastical history; and with how much skill and judgment he applied them." And a recent writer says "Poor William Mitchell is not only unmasked but extinguished."

Some have imagined that Robert Barclay and his friend William Penn introduced into Quakerism a new,more reasonable, and more scholarly tone. But comparing the sixteen or eighteen years of Quakerism before these worthies accepted it, with the subsequent period when they have been supposed to affect its counsels, effectually disposes of this view. Neither in doctrine nor in practice is there any material difference. Quakerism had its scholars before them. Their pre-eminence was rather in popular gifts than in learning, and in statement and illustration of Quaker views rather than in their discovery or modification. As regards the positions of Quakerism that have given offence, Barclay and other scholarly converts accepted them in toto. They speak of the "apostacy" of the churches, and of Quakerism as the only true church. They speak boldly of the spiritual gifts of the brethren. They are severe on "hireling" priests. They argue that justification is one with sanctification. Most of the important passages referring to the authority of Holy Scripture, Barclay applies to the light within.

As to practice, nothing has more offended the proprieties of modern life than their imitations of the O. T. prophets, exhibiting themselves as signs. There is no reason to believe that any of the cultured Quakers of the day disapproved of these things; rather they rejoiced in them as part of the manifestation of the restored gifts of olden times. So far from Robert Barclay being superior to George Fox in this matter, he afforded one of the most striking instances on record. This was in 1672, and it happened thus. "On the 24th June, 1672, on awakening early in the morning, he seemed to see a great store of coined money that belonged to him lying upon his table; but several hands came and scattered it from him. Presently the scene appeared changed, and he was 'standing by a marish' filled with a rich yellow matter, which he went about eagerly to gather in his grasp, till plunging in over the ancles, he was like to sink in the bog; then one came and rescued him. Thismarsh, was the world, this matter was the world's goods; the whole thing was to him an intimation of love from the Lord, just as he was beginning more eagerly than before to concern himself in his outward affairs."[15]"The journey in sackcloth," says Mr. Gordon, "was the natural sequence of this impression." That it was "partly a penance of self-expostulation," as he further declares, we in no wise admit. We must take Barclay's own word for it that it was simply done in obedience to a clear conviction of a divine call. "The command of the Lord concerning this thing came unto me that very morning as I awoke, and the burden thereof was very great, yea, seemed almost unsupportable unto me; for such a thing until that very moment had never before entered me, not in the most remote consideration. And some whom I called to declare unto them this thing can bear witness how great was the agony of my spirit,—how I besought the Lord with tears that this cup might pass from me!—yea, how the pillars of my tabernacle were shaken, and how exceedingly my bones trembled, until I freely gave up unto the Lord's will." Truth Triumphant, p. 105.

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