"The people, at an early hour, had been straggling on the height, but kept aloof from the church, unwilling to put their minister to hazard by convening in multitudes, which had been discharged as a breach of peace and good order. They collected by degrees in small scattered groups about the church-yard, occupied in dark conjectures, and waiting the minister's approach with extreme anxiety. Mr Blackadder made his appearance with his wonted firmness and composure, and with the same placid serenity of countenance for which he was remarkable. The audience was not numerous, but every feature appeared settled into a deep and earnest concern. Most of them were dissolved in tears, and at many parts of the discourse, there were loud and involuntary bursts of sorrow.
"Towards the middle of the sermon, an alarm was given that a party of soldiers from Dumfries were on their march to seize him, and had crossed the bridge. Upon this he closed hastily, pronounced the blessing, and retired to his chamber. The military surrounded the church-yard, and, as the people departed, they took down the names of all those who belonged to Dumfries, or any of the other parishes, as the law had affixed a penalty of twenty shillings Scots on every person absent from his own church. They offered violence to none, and went away without entering the manse, being assured that no strangers were there. When they were gone, the minister assembled the remains of the congregation in his own house, and finished the sermon, 'standing on the stair-head, both the upper and loner flat being crowded to the full.'
"The people seemed very loath to depart, lingering in suspense about the door, expressing their concern for his safety, and their willingness to shed their blood in his defence. Mr Blackadder conjured them to have regard to the peace of the country, and give no handle to their adversaries by any disturbance. 'Go,' said he, and fend [provide] for yourselves: the hour is come when the shepherd is smitten, and the flock shall be scattered. Many are this day mourning for the desolations of Israel, and weeping, like the prophet, between the porch and the altar. God's heritage has become the prey of the spoiler; the mountain of the house of the Lord as the high places of the forest. When the faithful pastors are removed, hirelings shall intrude, whom the great Shepherd never sent, who will devour the flock, and tread down the residue with their f3et. As for me, I have done my duty, and now there is no time to evade. I recommend you to Him, who is able to keep you from falling, and am ready, through grace, to be disposed of as the Lord pleases.'"[1]
After this solemn and affecting scene, Mr Blackadder went, with his wife and numerous family, to reside at Caitloch in the parish of Glencairn, a wilder and more central part of the stewartry of Kirkcudbright. Here he soon attracted the attention of the authorities by the crowds which he collected to hear his occasional preachings, and he was therefore obliged to remove. For some years after this period, he appears to have wandered through the country, preaching whenever he could find a proper opportunity. In 1670, having performed worship at a conventicle near Dunfermline, where the people had armed themselves for self-defence, he was summoned before the privy council, but contrived to elude their power. When the search was a little slackened, he renewed his practice of itinerant preaching, which he not only conceived to be no offence against human laws, but a duty solemnly enjoined by the word of God. On one occasion, he preached at Kinkell, near St Andrews: the people flocked from that metropolitan city to hear him, notwithstanding all the injunctions and surveillance of Archbishop Sharpe. It is said, that, on Sharpe desiring the provost to send out the militia to disperse the congregation, he was informed that it was
- ↑ Crichton's Life of John Blackadder 12mo. 1823.
