John Livingston—A Burning
and Shining Light—Appearance and Disposition—Birth and Education—Mouse
Water Cave —Licensed—Continued Opposition—Torpbichen—Countess of Wigton—Persecution
and its Results—Stewarton Revival— Shott’s Revival—Livingston’s Great
Sermon—The Holyrood Sermon—Three Young Men—Livingston’s Methods—Killinchy
—Suspended—Attempts to Reach America—Marriage—Deposed-Second Attempt to
Reach America—Stranraer—Newburn Skirmish—Commissioner to the King—“The
Plague to Scotland”—Cromwell and Livingston—Cromwell asks him to
Preach—His Prayer—Oliver has enough of John—Summoned before Privy
Council—Banished—Life in Holland, and Studies— Death.
Than John Livingston of
Monyabroch, Stranraer, and Ancrum, in Scottish ecclesiastical history
there are few men whose memories are more warmly cherished. He was the
greatest preacher of his day, and there still clings to his
memory the fragrance
which was exhaled from his saintly life. During a career of the allotted
span he maintained a walk and conversation singularly befitting the
Gospel.
He was a man of prayer,
and lived near to the Blood of Sprinkling. Left to himself, he would
have chosen a life of obscurity among the simple folk of some remote
parish. It was persecution that dragged him into fame. But not
persecution wholly. His ministry was in demonstration of the Spirit and
in power. Even when he conducted his family devotions, men so crowded
about him and hungered after his utterances that he was obliged, by
reason of the press, to set up his family altar in his church. “Oh! when
I remember that burning and shining light, worthy and warm Mr.
Livingston, who used to preach as within the sight of Christ and the
glory to be revealed!” exclaimed one of his contemporaries, when he
looked back on the times of refreshing he enjoyed in his presence.
His appearance and
disposition may help to bring his personality nearer. In Scotland there
is only one known portrait, and it is in the possession of Sir Arthur
Grant of Monymusk. In America, where his descendants have risen to the
possession of the greatest wealth and highest distinction, there are in
existence three portraits. To Edwin Brockholst Livingston I am indebted
for an autotype copy of the painting in possession of Mrs. Robert
Ralston Crosby of New York. It is apparently a faithful and artistic
likeness. It represents a man of about sixty years of age, with short,
silvery hair, the greater part of which is confined in a closely fitting
cap. There are no whiskers, but there is a moustache, and the goatee or
napoleon on the lower lip terminates in a sharp peak. In his young days
his hair was of that brown, sandy colour usually indicative of the
ardent temperament. The eyes were hazel, the brow prominent, the nose
Roman, the facial outline oval. The shoulders are massive, the chest
full, and a broad, white collar gives a touch of character to an
otherwise uninteresting dress.
All the portraits are of
Dutch origin. With his own hand he wrote a faithful delineation of his
character. Physically he was “ of ane waterish constitution. He had
frequent attacks of toothache, and he smoked to alleviate the pain. He
was short-sighted. This failing did not affect his studies, as he was
able to the last to dispense with the aid of spectacles. As to
disposition, he was very unlike his father, and quite averse to
wrangling and debates. He was more inclined to solitude than company.
With the exception of walking, he indulged in no kind of exercise. Only
two kinds of recreation held out to him any temptation. As a young man
he had hunted on horseback, “and found it very bewitching.” Possessing
musical talent, he had also proved the growing seductions of the
concert-room. He had often been conscious of the power of the Lord
working in his heart, but he was never able to identify his conversion
with any special time or occasion. He experienced the greatest terror of
the wrath of God one night after he had been in the company of some
young people who had been influenced by the work of the Lord at
Stewarton. The feeling was so acute that if it had been prolonged it
would have been beyond endurance.
John Livingston was born
at Monyabroch, on the 21st June, 1603; and by the Abroch, the Garrel,
and the Kelvin swamp, and amid those green and woody braes of the parish
he loved so much, he spent his happy, gentle boyhood, receiving from his
strong, resolute father the best of nurture in all things human and
divine. He received his Christian name at the earnest request of Lady
Lilias Graham, the wife of the sixth Lord Fleming of Cumbernauld, who
was soon after created Lord Wigton. This lady held his father, William
Livingston, in great respect, and was a frequent visitor at Monyabroch.
She attended the Monyabroch communions regularly, and was well known for
her devoutness of spirit and saintliness of character. Her maid said of
her when she dressed her hair of a morning, she had always the Bible
open before her, and u shed more tears on such occasions than I ever did
all my lifetime.”
When John was ten he was
sent to the Grammar School at Stirling, where he remained till the
summer of 1617. He was recalled from school that he might be present at
the bedside of his dying mother. Afterwards he went to the University of
Glasgow, and completed his arts’ course there with considerable
distinction. At Stirling, from the hands of the Rev. Patrick Simpson, he
received his first sacrament. On that solemn occasion he experienced
such a physical agitation that he believed it was the Lord for the first
time directly striving with him. At the end of his college course there
came a serious crisis in his life. His father having repurchased the
half of Monyabroch glebe, and added it to his various other possessions
in the parish, he now wished his son to marry and settle on his estate.
His father, having gone to Lanark, could not now attend to it, and it
was greatly wasted by ill neighbours. The young man had, however, his
own ideas as to his future, and he besought his father to allow him to
go to France, that he might study medicine. His father refused his
request. Not knowing what to do, at this turning point in his life, he
resolved to spend a day in solitary contemplation in some quiet spot,
and hear what God the Lord would say unto him. With this end in view he
repaired to a secret cave on Mouse Water, an old hiding-place of Sir
William Wallace. After a day’s spiritual wrestling in much confusion and
fear anent the state of his soul, he believed God made it clear to him
that he should go out into the world and preach Jesus Christ and Him
crucified, and that if he resisted he should have no assurance of his
own salvation.
Following the divine
prompting thus given him, he studied divinity at the University of St
Andrews, under Principal Boyd and Professor Blair. During this period
his Presbyterian views became greatly confirmed. Whilst present at a
communion in Glasgow, Archbishop Law, who was dispensing the sacrament,
seeing the people all sitting at the table, desired them to kneel after
the Episcopal fashion. The archbishop, seeing that John Livingston and
one or two others did not obey, commanded them to kneel or depart. To
this the young man replied boldly “that there was no warrant for
kneeling, and for want of it no one ought to be excommunicated.” Thus
began that long struggle with Prelacy he was to maintain during his
whole life, and in which struggle he was eventually to be overcome.
Having received license, he began in January, 1625, the preaching of the
Gospel, the work that was to be so dear to him, and which was to be so
abundantly blessed. Promotion would have come quickly, but he was
already a marked man and under the suspicion of the bishops. He received
calls to various parishes, but somehow or other there was always
something which came between him and ordination. The reason is found in
a letter in Colzium House. The Laird of Kilsyth having approached the
archbishop in his kinsman’s behalf, the prelate replied, that if his
friend had not already received an appointment in the Church, he had
nobody to blame but himself, seeing “he had declared he would not submit
himself to the orders received in the Church.” “I love peace,” continued
the archbishop, its but these sort of men will not cease till they bring
trouble upon themselves.” Eventually, Livingston was appointed by Lord
Torphichen assistant to the aged minister of Torphichen parish. The
minister dying soon after, and notwithstanding that the parishioners
were wholly in his favour, and that moreover he had the Earl of
Linlithgow, Lord Torphichen, and Sir William Livingston of Kilsyth all
in his favour, and all appealing to the Archbishop of St. Andrews, he
was refused ordination by that prelate, and not only so, but was ordered
to desist from preaching. This was in 1627. When on his way home to his
father’s house at Lanark, he stopped at Falkirk to bid farewell to his
uncle, William Livingston. This was a fortunate stoppage, for while
delaying his journey, he received a pressing invitation from the
Countess of Wigton, to come to Cumbernauld to visit her mother, who lay
dying. He made so good an impression on the earl and countess that they
engaged him as their chaplain. It was while residing in Cumbernauld
there occurred that memorable revival of the kirk of Shotts in which he
took so prominent a part, and during which he preached the sermon that
was the occasion of such a memorable outpouring of the Holy Spirit.
The hard lot of
Scotland’s suffering Church was not without its counterbalancing
advantages in the spiritual life of the people. It forced them to
consider their standing ground, to seek the roots of religion and faith.
The result was a widespread interest in all theological and
ecclesiastical problems. As they mused, here and there throughout the
country the fire of the repressed spiritual life burst into flame. Times
of great refreshing, as from the presence of the Lord, were at once
causes and consequences of the persecutions to which the Church was
subjected. The diligent study of the Bible made them able to suffer, and
the suffering gave new intensity to their religious fervour. Just as the
spring showers cause the grass to grow, so the blood of the Scottish
martyrs, poured out on Scottish soil, caused a widespread germination
and growth of a sweet and rich religious feeling. The historical
revivals of Scotland are so in-woven with the history of Kilsyth and the
men who have been born and bred and laboured there, that at this point
it is full of interest to turn the eyes back and survey the scenes and
circumstances of the first revival times.
The outpouring of the
Holy Spirit at Stewarton continued from 1625 to 1630. The date of the
termination of the fevival at Stewarton marks the beginning of the
revival at Shotts. The part played by John Livingston in the latter
awakening was of a memorable character. A carriage containing some
ladies of rank having broken down in Shotts parish, the travellers were
entertained by Mr. Hance, the minister, at the manse, till the chaise
was repaired. In return for his hospitality the ladies got a new manse
erected for the clergyman. It was a magnificent return for the
hospitality that had been extended to them, even although the ladies
were all attached members of the Church and greatly interested in her
persecuted pastors. Out of gratitude, Mr. Hance resolved to ask to his
next communion such clergymen as they might be pleased to name. One of
the names mentioned was that of John Livingston, then residing at
Cumbernauld. The breaking down of the carriage, the proposals about the
manse, the coming of the ministers, became. matter of public notoriety,
with the result that when the communion arrived there had gathered in
Shotts an immense concourse of people. Amongst the other ministers
present was Robert Bruce of Kinnaird. When the sacrament had been
dispensed, the people had such a peaceful and joyous feeling, that
instead of retiring to rest, they formed themselves into groups and
spent the whole night—the 21st June—in prayer and the giving of thanks
unto God. Livingston was a member of one of these companies. He had
often preached at Shotts with much acceptance. It having been arranged
that he was to conduct divine service at nine o’clock, early in the
morning he left the company with which he had spent the night and walked
out into the fields that he might be alone. In the solitude of his walk
there fell upon him great misgiving of spirit, a poignant sense of his
unworthiness and weakness in the face of the great expectations of the
people. Possessed of this feeling, he determined not to return to the
church, but to steal away from the meeting. When he was about to lose
sight of the church it occurred to him that his action was cowardly and
mistrustful of God. At the same time there came upon him with
overwhelming force the accusation contained in Jeremiah ii. 31—“O
generation, see ye the word of the Lord. Have I been a wilderness unto
Israel? a land of darkness?” Turning, he found his way back to the
church, where the people were thronging to hear him. Choosing for his
text Ezekiel xxxvi. 25, 26—“Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you,
and ye shall be clean: from all your filthiness, and from all your
idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new
spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out
of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.” The sermon was
two hours and a half in length. In the first hour and a half he
exhausted the points he had previously pondered, and he says, “I was led
on about an hour’s time in a strain of exhortation and warning, with
such liberty and melting of heart as I never had the like in public.”
Just as the great effort was being brought to a close a heavy shower
beginning to fall— for the service was held in the graveyard—he thus
turned the circumstance to spiritual account. “ If a few drops of rain
from the clouds so discomposed them, how discomposed would they be, how
full of horror and despair, if God should deal with them as they
deserved; and thus he will deal with all the finally impenitent. That
God might justly rain fire and brimstone upon them as upon Sodom and
Gomorrah, and the other cities of the plain; that the Son of God by
tabernacling in our nature, and obeying and suffering in it, is the only
refuge and covert from the storm of divine wrath due to us for sin; that
his merits and meditation are the alone screen from that storm, and none
but penitent believers will have the advantage of that shelter.”
The effect of the sermon
was extraordinary. It was like water to the thirsting. It was
accompanied by a great downpouring of the Holy Ghost and by a strange
and unusual commotion among the hearers. . On five hundred of the
audience there was wrought a change for the good, not transitory but
permanent. It was the day in his life, the preacher confessed, when he
had the richest presence of God. On account of the influence of this
discourse, the preacher has been styled “Single Sermon Livingston.” The
title is inappropriate. At Holyrood in Ireland, in 1641, he preached
another sermon with much greater results for good. By the sermon at
Holyrood it was estimated that not less than one thousand souls were
begotten, anew in Christ Jesus. Wodrow says, that since the days of the
apostles few ministers were more abundantly countenanced in their work
than Mr. Livingston. Apart from the general effect of this sermon there
were striking instances of its power in the lives of particular
individuals. Three young men of Glasgow being on their way to spend some
days in diversion and pleasure in Edinburgh, alighted in the morning at
Shotts to breakfast. Hearing of the stir, they thought they would attend
the Monday morning service and gratify their curiosity. Intending only
to remain for a little, they became so powerfully influenced that they
stayed until the service was done. When they pursued their journey they
were more staid than they had been before, but each kept his deep
concern entirely to himself. When they arrived in Edinburgh, they kept
wholly to their rooms during their visit. Returning again to Glasgow in
each other’s company, they arrived there without having once disclosed
their thoughts to each other. At last one of them went to one of the
others and opened up to him the whole state of his mind since he had
heard Livingston at Shotts. The other frankly owned the serious concern
he had also experienced concerning his salvation. The two repairing to
the house of the third, found him in a similar state of mind. They then
began fellowship meetings together, and the three young men became
exemplary citizens of Glasgow, and continued to lead to the end of their
days lives of the highest Christian practice and profession.
Livingston began life by
writing his sermons, but eventually he merely wrote out notes and
trusted to enlargement at the time of delivery. The expectancy of his
hearers helped him more than his own preparation. His chief difficulty
was the getting of his heart into a right spiritual disposition. He
always remembered that his two best and most fruitful discourses were
preached after he had spent the previous night in prayer and Christian
conference. While he considered his gift more suited to simple and
commonplace people than to learned and judicious audiences, he at the
same time was a diligent student of the art of effective address. He was
in favour of short sermons. “Ordinarily,” he says, “goe not beyond the
hour.” As to subject matter: “A mediocrity should be kept, so that there
be not too much matter in one sermon, which but overburdens the memory
of hearers, and smells of ostentation; nor, again, should there be too
little which hungers an audience and argues an empty gift” He held that
the subject matter should not be too exquisite and fine, with abstruse
learning and quaint notions, which go beyond the capacity of the vulgar;
nor yet too common, for this procured careless hearing and despising of
the gift. All his rules as to the use of the voice are good. The
preacher should remember he is preaching, not singing. He should not use
long-drawn words. He should not affect a weeping-like voice. He should
neither be too loud nor too low. He should neither speak too fast nor
too slow. He should not interrupt his discourse with oft sighing.
Throughout Scotland a Monday service was instituted after the Communion
in imitation and commemoration of the Monday service at Shotts, and in
many parishes it is still held.
The work of the preacher
is not mechanical. In the ministry of the Word certain efforts are not
to be depended upon as the means of achieving certain results. After his
great sermon at Shotts, Livingston experienced a spiritual and
oratorical reaction. Before a week was gone he had to lament a sense of
desertion and an incapability of applying to the souls of his auditory
the thoughts on which he had carefully meditated. By such means, he
considered, the Lord counterbalanced his dealings with him and humbled
his pride. His friends having persuaded him to stay at Irvine till the
depression had passed, he was able to preach to them before he left
“with tolerable freedom.”
When Livingston found
that ordination in Scotland was impossible through the hostility of the
bishops, he gladly accepted the invitation of Viscount Claneboyes to
take charge of the parish of Killinchy. He then received ordination, not
from Dr. Robert Echlin, the bishop of the diocese, but from Dr. Andrew
Knox, Bishop of Raphoe, who extended towards the Presbyterians a gentle
and conciliatory spirit. This action roused Echlin’s ire, but
notwithstanding a smart conflict with his bishop, Livingston was able to
devote himself with all his zeal to the duties of his parish. His
stipend from teinds amounted to only four pounds a year, but he was
supported by the Countesses of Wigton and Eglinton, and other devout
women. In this parish Livingston’s ministry was greatly blessed. It
might have been thought in such a poor place he would have been beneath
envy, and except from the shafts of hostility, have been allowed to go
on his way in .peace. But it was not so. Before a year was out he was
suspended for nonconformity (1631). This was the first blow levelled at
the Presbyterian ministry of Ulster, and, although through the interest
of that kindly and friendly primate, Archbishop Usher, Livingston was
soon reinstated, from his suspension dates the commencement of that
systematic opposition which ultimately terminated in the forcible
expulsion of the Presbyterian brethren from the kingdom. The peace was
of very short duration. The Scottish bishops having brought pressure to
bear on the Irish Government, Livingston and his friend Blair were
deposed on the 4th May, 1632. After visiting his father at Lanark and
his friends at Cumbernauld, and rendered desperate by insult and
persecution, Livingston with some of his parishioners resolved to
emigrate to America. Through contrary winds the attempt failed. After
landing once more on the shores of Ireland, Livingston and his deposed
brethren were reinstated in their parishes, and at Killinchy Livingston
continued to preach for a year and a half, until November, 1635.
At this time he formed an
attachment to the eldest daughter of Bartholomew Fleming, merchant in
Edinburgh, “of most worthy memory.” It is a curious trait, both of the
age and of the man, that after she had been commended to him by his
friends, he spent nine months in seeking direction from God, before he
could prevail on himself to pay his addresses. “It is like,” he says, "I
might have been longer in that darkness, except the Lord had presented
an occasion for our conferring together; for in November, 1634, when I
was going to the Friday meeting at Antrim, I foregathered with her and
some others going thither, and propounded to them by the way to confer
upon a text whereon I was to preach the day after at Antrim, wherein I
found her conference so judicious and spiritual, that I took that for
some answer to my prayer to have my mind cleared, and blamed myself that
I had not before taken occasion to confer with her. Four or five days
thereafter I propounded the matter to her, and desired her to think upon
it, and after a week or two I went to her mother’s house, and being
alone with her, desiring her answer, I went to prayer, and urged her to
pray, which at last she did, and in that time, I got abundant clearness
that it was the Lord’s mind I should marry her.” John Livingston was
married in St. Cuthbert’s Church on the 23rd June, 1635. The Earl of
Wigton and his son, Lord Fleming, were present. His father was the
officiating clergyman. A warrant having been issued for his
apprehension, the service was conducted with much solemnity.
On Livingston’s return to
Ireland he was again deposed, and again in despair of all liberty at
home for the ministry of the Word, he once more embarked for America.
After a long struggle with adverse winds, in which the vessel sprang a
leak and met with various mishaps, they reached the banks of
Newfoundland* Regarding further struggle as hopeless, the voyage was
abandoned and the prow of the vessel directed homeward. Livingston
reached Ireland after a hazardous voyage, only to find his position more
insecure than ever. The Government at once issued a warrant for his
arrest, but he knew how to save himself by timely flight to Scotland.
Although a marked man, he took a prominent part in those meetings when,
amid scenes of the tenderest character, the Covenant was signed and
sworn. In 1638 he received a commission to proceed to London with
several copies of the Covenant and letters to friends of the Scottish
cause at court. He had not been long in the English capital when the
Marquis of Hamilton informed him it would be well for him to make speed
northward, as the King had been made aware of his presence and was ready
to commit him to the Tower.
On Livingston’s return
from London, on the 5th July 1638, he was inducted to the parish of
Stranraer, where he ministered for the next ten years. He was
recommended to that parish because it placed him as near as possible to
his friends in Ireland. As many as five hundred of his old parishioners
at Killinchy came over twice a year to the Stranraer communion, and it
was there he was compelled to hold his family devotions in church, there
not being room in his house to accommodate the people that came to them.
At this juncture the Covenanters resolved upon a movement much more
skilful than they usually showed in their military tactics. Under the
Earl of Cassillis they advanced into England, and as Livingston was
chaplain to the forces, he exchanged, for a time, the church for the
camp. The change, however, was only a change of scene, for every night,
when the troops came to their quarters, there was nothing to be heard
throughout the whole army but the singing of psalms, and prayer, and
reading of Scripture. He was present at the skirmish at Newburn, but,
than the facts of the engagement, he noted down with greater interest
that a Scottish lady, whom they had met, made the exclamation, “And is
it so, that Jesus Christ will not come to England for the reforming of
abuses, but with an army of twenty-two thousand men at His back Iv The
brief campaign ended, he busied himself at Stranraer with thj raising of
money for the use of the army, and for the Presbyterians of Ulster, who
were passing through Stranraer, fleeing from the fury of the Catholics.
Leaving his father’s deathbed, in the autumn of 1641, we find him, after
a few months, joining the army of the Scots under Major-General Munro,
lying at Carrickfergus, whither they had been sent by the Privy Council
to put down the Irish Rebellion. He had an ofF-and-on connection with
the army for the next six years; but it is unaccountable how, in 1648,
when he attended the army for the last time, he had a special commission
from the General Assembly to persuade the Scottish regiments to take no
part in the proposed endeavour to rescue Charles I. from his English
prison. It is surely no part of the duty of a chaplain to advise
soldiers in such matters. At the close of these Irish Commissions
Livingston was translated by the General Assembly to the parish of
Ancrum.
The next occurrence in
the Rev. John Livingston’s eventful life was of an important character.
He was nominated, by the Scottish Church, one of three delegates on the
Commission sent by the Committee of Estates to the Hague in the early
part of 1650, to treat with young King Charles II. as to the conditions
and concessions which would make him an acceptable Sovereign to the
Scottish people. The Commission was composed of the Earls of Cassillis
and Lothian for the nobility, the Lairds of Brodie and Liberton for the
barons, Sir John Smith and Alexander Jaffray for the burghs, and Messrs.
James Wood, John Livingston, and George Hutcheson for the Assembly. The
work was distasteful to Livingston, and he would have resigned but for
the pressure of his friends. He believed the Commission contained
unpatriotic elements, men who would have bought the favour of the King
at the expense of their country, and it was unlikely to accomplish any
good. When he set his foot on board the vessel that was to bear him to
Holland, “he hoped, if it were the Lord’s will, to be drowned in the
waters by the way.” His conference with the King made him still more
dissatisfied. Believing they were taking “the plague to Scotland,” he
refused to return in the company of the King and the Commission, and it
was only by stratagem he was brought back to Scotland with the others.
At Dundee, Livingston had his final interview with the King. He took
liberty “to use some freedom,” and imparted some wholesome counsel. The
King replied that “he hoped he would not wish him to sell his father’s
blood.” The abrupt and foolish answer confirmed the worthy Covenanter in
the opinion that he had never been made to negotiate affairs of state.
Full of vague fears, and
baffled in his designs, the worthy minister retired to his parish. He
was elected to join the army of David Leslie, but he flatly refused, and
was thus saved from witnessing the defeat of the Scottish army at Dunbar
by Cromwell. When the English officers or soldiers were quartered at his
manse, “he neither ate with them, nor drank with them, nor hardly spoke
to them.” Oliver Cromwell heard of Livingston’s great influence, and
wrote of him as a man highly esteemed as any for his piety and learning.
He wrote further that he had withdrawn from certain of his own class
(the Resolutioners) “and retired to his own house.” At this juncture
Livingston was both sour and sulky. When Cromwell asked him “to come to
Edinburgh and confer with him,” he politely excused himself. The meeting
with Livingston, which Cromwell was so anxious to bring about, took
place in London in 1654. Cromwell was determined to use Livingston to
gain the Protesters to his side. Both parties in the Church were,
however, equally loyal, and both resented with equal warmth the charge
of encouraging sectarianism. Beneath the rupture there was a hearty and
honest wish for the unity of the Church. Well, when Livingston was in
London, he was called upon to preach before Cromwell at Whitehall.
Cromwell had mistaken his man. The compliment did not influence
Livingston in the very least One part of his prayer ran as follows:—
“God be gracious to him whose right it is to rule in this place, and
unjustly is thrust from it; sanctify the rod of affliction unto him, and
when our bones are laid in the dust, let our prayers be registrate in
the Book of Life, that they may come forth in Thy appointed time for
doing him and his family good. And as for these poor men that now fill
their rooms, Lord be merciful unto them.” As these words were uttered
there was some whispering where Cromwell sat, and he was heard to say,
“Let him alone, he is a good man. What are we but poor men in comparison
with the kings of England.”
Oliver had had too much
of John, and was glad to get quit of him. That the Protector held him in
esteem notwithstanding his freedom of speech is apparent, because, in
1654, he appointed Livingston one of the ministers for settling the
affairs of the Kirk and certifying such as were proper to be admitted to
benefices.
The news of the
restoration of Charles II. to the throne of England filled Livingston
with dismay. He clearly saw that it meant untold trial and suffering for
the Church of Scotland. And his worst fears were more than realised.
After the “ Act Rescissory ” was passed by the Scottish Parliament in a
fit of loyalty in 1661, the heads of the northern leaders and people
began rapidly to fall. Before the year was out the Marquis of Argyll had
perished by the Maiden, and James Guthrie of Stirling on the scaffold.
When Livingston was made aware that peremptory orders had been issued by
the Privy Council for his appearance before them, he had only too good
reason to fear that the fate of the protomartyrs of the second
reformation was in store for him. The date of his appearance was the 9th
December, 1662. Before the messenger of the Court reached him he
repaired to Edinburgh. Had the scaffold been before him he intended to
flee the country. Finding, however, that his sentence in all probability
would be banishment, he compeared before the Court on the nth December.
Being pressed to take the oath of allegiance, he refused. The Lord
Chancellor then asked—“Will you not take time to advise whether you will
take the oath or not?” Livingston replied—“If I should take time to
advise, it would import that I had unclearness, or hesitation, which I
have not, and I judge it would be a kind of mocking your Lordship to
take time to consider, and then return and give your Lordship the same
answer."
He was then sentenced to
banishment from His Majesty’s dominions, and, within forty-eight hours,
to leave Edinburgh for the north side of the Tay. He was eventually
allowed to remain at Leith till he took his departure. His petition for
liberty to return to Ancrum and visit his wife, family, and parishioners
was refused. When his friend, the erudite Robert Blair, saw the ship
which was bearing Livingston to Holland sailing down the Firth of Forth,
he was greatly touched, and celebrated the occasion by the composition
of some Latin verses :—
“Care Livingston salve
multumque valeto Invidia ipsa crepit, te mea musa canet Til lachrimis
madefacte tuis, nos linguis in alto Stertentes somno lethiferoque malo,
Sed Tralio et sociis suavis comes ibis in oras Quas dabit Omnipotens
visdere propitius.”
When Livingston landed in
Rotterdam, in 1663, he received from the Scottish colony the warmest of
welcomes. During the years of his banishment he solaced his mind with
biblical studies. He found it a delight to make once again that close
acquaintance with the Hebrew tongue which had given him so much pleasure
in his St. Andrews years lying now so far behind. He prepared a polyglot
bible, but the work was never published, through the death of Provost
John Graham of Glasgow, who was to have borne the expense of the
printing. In the congenial society of his wife and kindred spirits, and
surrounded with his family, the closing years of Livingston’s life were
the happiest he enjoyed. To his friends who gathered about him on the
day of his death he spoke some brief and kindly words. “ I have my
faults as other men, but God made me to abhor shows. I know I have given
offence to many through my slackness and negligence, but I forgive and
desire to be forgiven. I cannot say much of great services, yet if my
heart was lifted up, it was in the preaching of Jesus Christ. I die in
the faith that the truths of God, which he hath helped the Church of
Scotland to own, shall be owned by him as truths so long as sun and moon
endure.” His wife, seeing he was unable to say more, desired him to take
leave of his friends. “I do not need to take leave of them,” he said,
“our parting shall be only for a short time.” Then his benignant spirit
passed to join the company of those of whom the world was not worthy.
Thus died in banishment,
in a foreign land, John Livingston, one of the sons of Kilsyth, and one
of whom the parish has good reason to be proud. The date of his death
was between the 14th and 21st of August, 1672. He was seventy years of
age. Janet Fleming, his wife, survived him for over twenty years. She
bore him fifteen children. Robert, born at Ancrum on the 13th December,
1654, was the fourteenth child, and he became the founder of the
Livingston family of New York. |