The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1845-05-29
M | s G L L L A N Y .
Margaret, the Martyr.
A TALE OF scoTLAND's COVENANT
BY REV. SAMUEL 1. PRIME,

The blood of Scotand's noblest sons
and alrest daughters was now shed freely
for the truth, dearel than life to all the
good and brave.
Caverhouse and his troop, like blood,
hounds, We're tracking to their mountain
hiding places, the pious Covenanters, drag
glng them to the fiery stake. or, more
mercifully, blowing out their brains q;
they kneeled in prayer for their persecu
tors and murderers. John Brown, o.
Priesth;ll, had Just been slain: a man OIL
whom the world was not worthy, and
whose wife was worthy of such man.
AS he took leave of her. with one infant
in her arms and another clinging to her
knee, he said,
"Now, Isabel, the day is come that /
told you would come when | first asked
you to be my welded wife. Are you will
ing that should die?"
"lndeed, JOHN" said she, with a clear
voice, 81 am ready; be thou faithful unto
death"
THAT is all desire" said he, and he
had scarcely kissed his Isabel and his
six children, when CIaverhouse shot him
through the head. AS he sunk down. the
widow caught her dead husband, and
holding his shattered head in her Lap.
wound 1t up with a handkerchief; and. as
the sobblng orphans gathered round the
warm corpse III their agony of grief, the
monster Claverhouse taan!ingIy said 10
her,
"Wha' thiake'' thou Of thy husband
now, woman?"
III haye thought much OF him, said the
heroic Isabel, 'and now more than eoe4 p
Those were the times of which we are
writing, and we have mentioned the story
OF John Brown and his Isabella as anoth.
er example of the spirit that triumphed in
Inc bosom OF Margaret, the Martyr.
Gllber; Wilson was farmer in the pa-
rlsh of Penningham, under the Laird of
Castestewart. Wilson and his wife had
both broken away from The Covenant and
yielding 10 The love OF life and of their
three children. had conformed 10 the laws
OF The prelacy, which their brethren were
resisting unto blood. But the craven pa
rents could not prevail with their children
TO follow them in the apostacy. Their
eldest daughter, Margaret, now in the
bloom OF eighteen, had drank deep of the
spirit OF the times, and firm in her adber- |
ence 10 the supremacy Of the Savior, she
mad Insllled the same holy PRINCIPLES into
the hearts OF her brother Thomas, but two
years younger, and Agnes a sweet sister,
now OF thirteen. These tender von,hs
were compelled TO f1v for their I;ves ,nJ
hide like hunted birds, in the wild moors
OF Galloway. The same cruel laws thai
made their adherence to the Covenot
crime punishable with death, forbade The
parents, under the same penalty, to give
them food and shelter bot the God whose
ministers are the ravens, and who has said
"when thy father and mother forsake thee.
will TAX thee up" supplied their wants
IN the wilderness and shielded them in
the hour Of danger. Margaret had a
heart that never quaiIed, and for wears
she had calm 3 awaited for such times rs
these. She was not to faIter now. Her
brother and the fair Agnes clune to- her
and drew strength from the quiet cheer.
fulness with which she met the niaIs IF
hose days and nights OF gloom, and their
Foices mingled sweetly as they sang The
longs OF Zion in their drear hiding place
AT last The two sisters veutured 10 anil |
heir desert solitude. and for short time
ley found home in the house ofan oped |
nd pions widow, Mrs M'LsughIane- d
1ere they were discovered, and Marga, d