Churchman, and a devoted, pious Christian, with a heart ready to suffer and endure for the cause of religion, and a brave, indomitable courage to fight for his principles if required. Needless to say, the friendship between his brother-in-law and himself was warm and sincere, because they had so much in common. Engrossed in conversation, the time passed unheeded, until the solemn strokes of the Tolbooth bell proclaimed the hour of nine.

Then they turned their steps towards the Grassmarket once more, which was now considerably busier than it had been an hour ago. Yet there was no disorder or sign of tumult, nor was the aspect of the people wild or excited. There was an expression of calm yet fixed resolution, especially upon the faces of the older among them, which indicated that no giddy froth of passion, no excitement of a moment moved them. Andrew Gray remarked upon that to the merchant, and expressed his satisfaction at the visible earnestness and quietness of spirit which seemed to be abroad.

When they returned to the house they found the children up and dressed and partaking of their morning meal, good Aunt Jean talking to them all the while.

"Are you going forth to witness for the Covenant with us to-day, Jean?" enquired the minister.

The mistress shook her head.

"I cannot well leave my house and my bairn, Andrew, but the Lord knows that I can make my vow at home and keep it as faithfully as I would keep a public testimony," she answered, with a smile and a tear. "But are you going to take both these young things with you to the vast assembly gathered in and about the Greyfriars?"

"For that purpose I brought them on this journey, Jean. As I said to Edward, the proceedings of this day may make an impression on their minds which will never be effaced, and--who knows?--the memory of it may even serve to build them up yet more steadfastly in the faith in days to come. Well, I think we should be going now. The proceedings, I learn, are to begin early, and I would not that we should be at the outside limits of the crowd."

Accordingly Aunt Jean prepared the children for going out of doors, fastening the cloak of the little Agnes very closely about her neck, and adding a scarf of her own to protect the throat against the biting wind of March. David wrapped his plaid about his shoulders in true Highland fashion, put on his bonnet, and, taking in his hand the stout ash stick he had cut in the woods of Inverburn, bravely announced that he was ready. So, followed by kind Aunt Jean's blessing and prayer, the little party left the house and emerged into the busy streets.

Although it was yet early, every thoroughfare was thronged with human beings, some moving on towards the place of meeting, others standing about in little knots discussing the solemn occasion upon which so many were gathered together. Our friends made their way leisurely up the Bow, and were among the earliest to enter the churchyard, and thus were enabled to take up a good position where everything could be seen and heard. The church doors were standing wide open, and it was evidently intended that the chief service should be held within the walls of the sacred edifice itself. The minister of Inverburn, leaving his little ones with their uncle, entered into the church, and met there many of his colleagues in the ministry, as well as others with whom he had some acquaintance.

As the stream of humanity surging towards the churchyard widened and broadened, until it seemed as if there could be no room for even one more, it was hastily decided that the proceedings should take place out of doors, in order to prevent any undue crowding in the church, and to enable as many as possible to hear and take part in the solemn service, which was to precede the signing of the Covenant.

Accordingly a table was set in the middle of the church, and thereon was laid the Bible used in the Greyfriars pulpit, and side by side with it the gigantic sheet prepared to receive the signatures of a nation. Everything being made ready, there gathered about the table the venerable Earl of Loudon, the Earl of Sutherland, Sir Archibald Johnston, the Reverend Alexander Henderson, with many other nobles and ministers and prominent personages.

Beyond that circle was gathered a vast throng, comprising every rank, age, and calling, upon whose faces, lit by a holy enthusiasm, the chill March sunlight played fitfully as it escaped through the refts in the cloudy sky. It was a wondrous sight. There was no noise, no unseemly clamourings or vain babblings; the great concourse seemed to be hushed into solemn expectancy, even the hot blood of the more passionate among them being held in curb by the strange awe-inspiring nature of this national gathering.

After a confession of national sin, an eloquent sermon was preached to the assembled multitude by one of the most gifted ministers in the Church.

Then amid a strange, deep silence Sir Archibald Johnston slowly and distinctly read aloud to the people the contents of the document to which every loyal Scot was asked to subscribe his name. It was beautifully and reverently compiled, and so simple and clear in its phraseology, that even the youngest and most illiterate person present could not fail to comprehend its meaning. It was simply a protest against all the corruptions and unholy innovations which the king sought to introduce into the service of the Church, and in signing the bond the subscribers pledged themselves solemnly before God to use every lawful means to recover and preserve the early purity and simplicity of worship in the Church of Scotland, and to resist every effort made by the king to introduce an Episcopal form of worship into the land.

When the reading of the Covenant was concluded, the Earl of London addressed the multitude in eloquent, heart-stirring tones, exhorting them to consider well the solemn and binding nature of the oath about to be taken, and impressing upon them the necessity of standing steadfast by their testimony, for not otherwise could that liberty, civil and religious, so dear to every Scottish heart, be restored and maintained in the land. One of the leading and most devoted ministers in the Church then gave utterance to a prayer, which hushed the very breathing of the assembly, and moved them as if by a mighty wind from Heaven. Amid the solemn silence which ensued, the Earl of Sutherland stepped forward, and uplifting his hand he swore the solemn oath, and then affixed the first signature to the Covenant. He was followed by nobles, ministers, citizens, men, women, and children, who subscribed name after name on the great sheet, until it could hold no more. Some, more enthusiastic than their fellows, opened veins in their arms, and wrote their names in their blood.

"Uplifting his hand, he swore the solemn oath"

It was a day such as Scotland had never witnessed before, and which she will never witness again, since, thanks be to God, the need for a national covenanting to protect civil and religious rights is swallowed up in the glorious liberty of these present days.

The impressive proceedings over, the