owns me.' And I seemed to see the crucified disciple's glorified Master
appearing over his reversed cross and saying, 'Thou art Peter, and with
this thy blood I will sow widespread my Church.' Yes, my brethren, if
Christ but owns us, that will far more than make up to us in a moment for
all our imprisonments, and all our martyrdoms, and all our ebbing tides
down here. 'Angels, men, and Zion's elders eye us in all our suffering
for Christ's sake, but what of all these? Christ is by us, and looketh
on, and writeth it all up Himself.'

James Guthrie was hanged and dismembered at the Cross of Edinburgh on the
first day of June, 1661. His snow-white head was cut off, and was fixed
on a spike in the Nether Bow. James Guthrie got that day that which he
had so often prayed for--a sudden plunge into everlasting life with all
his senses about him and all his graces at their brightest and their
keenest exercise.




XVII. WILLIAM GUTHRIE


'A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.'--_Solomon_.

William Guthrie was a great humorist, a great sportsman, a great
preacher, and a great writer. The true Guthrie blood has always had a
drop of humour in it, and the first minister of Fenwick was a genuine
Guthrie in this respect. The finest humour springs up out of a wide and
a deep heart, and it always has its roots watered at a wellhead of tears.
'William Guthrie was a great melancholian,' says Wodrow, and as we read