Part 8

He became distinguished for his solemn fervour in prayer, his deep piety and uncomplaining meekness in ill-usage--the latter, "a virtue," says one of his descendants, "he was before very much unacquainted with." "One of his relations, upon an occasion of uncommon rudeness, lamenting that he should be now treated so differently from what formerly he had been, he answered, that he found more satisfaction as well as honour in being thus insulted for his religious principles, than when, some years before, it was usual for the magistrates as he passed through Aberdeen, to meet him several miles, and conduct him to a public entertainment in their town-house, and then convey him so far out again, in order to gain his favour." This noble testimony is the subject of one of Whittier's most spirited ballads. The old soldier lived to a ripe old age, his son only surviving him four years.

We have thus traced the career of the father, that we may better understand the influences through which the son passed before his hearty acceptance of Quakerism. He belonged to a family divided in religious opinions, some of the Catholic faith, some Protestant to the core. His abilities, connections, and worldly expectations, all invited him to a distinguished career. Yet from the noblest and purest motives he turned away from brilliant prospects, and from older and more respected churches, and linked himself with a new, despised and persecuted sect.

Robert Barclay was born at Gordonstown, Oct. 23rd, 1648. From both sides of his parentage, he seems to have inherited scholarly ability and literary tastes. His grandfather, Sir Robert Gordon, was a man of culture and refinement, and his great-grandfather, John Gordon (father-in-law of Sir Robert), was Dean of Sarum, a good classical scholar and a keen theologian. On the other side, the Barclays seem to have supplied the Catholic church with several theologians and scholars. From early years he gave promise of great intellectual powers, which were sedulously cultivated at the best schools that Scotland possessed. His uncle Robert offered to look after his education, and took him in hand, as he tells us, when he had "scarcely got out of his childhood." But early as he left Scotland for Paris, he carried with him such impressions of the narrowness and bigotry of his Calvinistic countrymen as remained with him through life. In Paris, his uncle and others so skilfully assailed his Protestant instincts that they succumbed, and he became an avowed Catholic. He was a great favourite with his uncle, who purposed making him his heir, and who watched him through his brilliant college course with the greatest delight.

But whilst his uncle was thus satisfied, his mother's heart was filled with dismay at the thought of her son growing up a Catholic--a consummation for which his scholarly proficiency was poor compensation. She therefore on her death-bed obtained from his father a promise that her son should be brought home.

On this errand the Colonel went to Paris, in 1664. But he found his brother stoutly opposed to parting with his nephew. He met the argument of worldly welfare by offering to buy Robert a larger estate than his father's, and put him in possession immediately. But the boy had a noble reverence for his father in spite of his long absence from home, and his wish settled the question with him, and he replied to all pleas, "He is my father and must be obeyed." So father and son returned home together, and the uncle's property eventually enriched the College of which he was Rector, and other religious houses in France.

When David Barclay was passing through that crisis in his spiritual history which resulted in his embracing Quakerism, he made no efforts to win his son to the same view. No doubt he had all a new convert's confidence in the power of "the truth." Probably he had also a Quaker's persuasion that though such efforts might sway the understanding, they could not "reach" the soul. He said he wished the change to come from conviction, not from imitation. The early Friends never considered themselves a sect, and did not seek proselytes so much as they sought to spread deep spiritual life. In the end at least, the laissez-faire method resulted in what the father wished. The son quietly looked around on the different classes of professed Christians. He felt his old repugnance to the Calvinists invincible. The latitudinarians, with all their professed charity and condemnation of "judging," pleased him no better. Finally, he gave his hearty allegiance to Friends within twelve months of his father's admission to their fellowship.

It is an interesting question, "What led such a clear and powerful mind to accept Quakerism?"

It could not fail to impress such a nature to see the great change which had passed over his father. The warrior and the man of the world had become a consistent Friend, trusting God to plead his cause, anxious most about spiritual wealth, careful most to walk closely and humbly with God. Further, it seemed to him that whilst others were wonderfully strict in creed, the Friends, whom they called heretics, far surpassed them in holy and exemplary living. Lastly, came the evidence that so often in those days turned the scale decisively in favor of the new brotherhood. The very first time that Robert Barclay attended a Friends' meeting he was struck by the awful Presence there; he felt that God was in that place. Some minister who was present used these epigrammatic words, which are said to have made a great impression on him. "In stilness there is fulness, in fulness there is nothingness, in nothingness there are all things." It is true that we are told that Sir John Swintoune and another Friend named Halliday were specially helpful to him at this critical time. But we have the clearest evidence that what most impressed him and attracted him to Friends was not their ministry, but the marvellous divine influence enjoyed in the period of silent waiting upon God. His intimate friend, Andrew Jaffray, bears testimony that he was "reached" in the time of silence. His own words, too, in his apology are unmistakable; they are introduced into his glowing description of an ideal Friends' meeting, as a personal testimony to the value of silent worship. Speaking of his own conversion, he says, "Who not by strength of argument, or by a particular disquisition of each doctrine, and convincement of my understanding thereby, came to receive and bear witness to the truth, but by being secretly reached by this Life. For when I came into the silent assemblies of God's people, I felt a secret power amongst them which touched my heart; and as I gave way unto it, I found the evil weakening in me, and the good raised up; and so I became thus knit and united unto them, hungering more and more after the increase of this power and life, whereby I might find myself perfectly redeemed." Apology, Prop. XI., Sect. 7.

Boy as Barclay was when he returned from Paris, in spite of his precocity it may be questioned whether his surrender of Catholicism cost him much conflict of soul, though he assures us in his "Vindication," he did "turn from that way not without sincere and real convictions of the errors of it." But beyond question, it would cost him a severe struggle to surrender his proud vantage ground as a scholar, and to join a sect who taught not only that learning was not necessary to a saving knowledge of Christ, but also that it had small share in the efficient ministry of the Gospel. The battle was first fought out in his own search for peace and light. From his childhood he had been ambitious of scholarship. Conscious, as he tells us in the introduction to his treatise on "Universal Love," of abilities beyond the average, he had a pleasure in intellectual pursuits which led him to follow them up with keen relish for their own sakes. But now the appetite was to receive a check, not only that it might ever afterwards keep its right place, but that he might learn how much more effectively God can teach than can the best of men. George Fox had to learn from sad experience that even enlightened Christians cannot stand instead of God. Robert Barclay had to learn by a shorter, but no doubt sharp experience, that his favourite books could do nothing for him in spiritual religion without Christ, and that in spiritual power and spiritual discernment illiterate men might be by far his superiors. He has described the experience in his Apology, when speaking of the insufficiency of learning to make a true minister, and the possibility of being a true minister without it.

"And if in any age since the Apostles' days, God hath purposed to show his power in weak instruments, for the battering down of the carnal and heathenish wisdom, and restoring again the ancient simplicity of truth, this is it. For in our day, God hath raised up witnesses for himself as he did the fishermen of old, many, yea most of whom are labouring and mechanic men, who, altogether without that learning, have by the power and spirit of God, struck at the very root and ground of Babylon; and in the strength and might of this power have gathered thousands by reaching their consciences into the same power and life, who, as to the outward part, have been far more knowing than they, yet not able to resist the virtue that proceeded from them. Of which I myself am a true witness, and can declare from certain experience; because my heart hath often been greatly broken and tendered by that virtuous life that proceeded from the powerful ministry of those illiterate men.... What shall I say then to you who are lovers of learning and admirers of knowledge? Was not I also a lover and admirer of it, who also sought after it according to my age and capacity. But it pleased God in his unutterable love, early to withstand my vain endeavours, while I was yet but eighteen years of age, and made me seriously to consider (which I wish may also befal others) that without holiness and regeneration no man can see God; and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and to depart from iniquity a good understanding; and how much knowledge puffeth up, and leadeth away from that quietness, stillness and humility of mind, where the Lord appears and his heavenly wisdom is revealed.... Therefore, seeing that among them (these excellent, though despised, because illiterate witnesses of God) I with many others, have found the heavenly food that gives contentment, let my soul seek after this learning, and wait for it for ever." Truth Triumphant, p. 426.

In the means and mode of his conversion Robert Barclay was like many of his co-religionists in Scotland. It is an interesting feature of Scottish Quakerism that a number of its adherents were not gained by preaching. Many of the early Friends tell us that they adopted the Quaker views before they knew of the existence of any society which held such views. Their hearts yearned after an ideal which they did not find in any existing sect. But when Quakerism was presented to their view, they recognised in it the features which they had learned to love. The case of Alexander Jaffray is fairly representative of others, and his diary enables us to watch the process in minute detail in most of its stages. The awakened soul gets disgusted with chopping logic, and with manipulating the dry bones of a formal theology. It longs for bread and is offered a stone. It longs for pure spiritual life and for true holiness, and for an experimental acquaintance with God that shall satisfy its quickened instincts; and instead it finds the sects around it mostly busied with preparations for living rather than with life, ever constructing scientific scaffolding but not building, keenly discussing the right attitude of the soul towards God rather than having actual dealings with Him. Quakerism comes on the scene and at once commends itself to such a soul by dealing with the practical life, putting the teaching and promises of the Bible to the test of experience, and finding that they actually work and lead to assured conviction, hearty consecration, and holy living. Modern Quakerism has come to be associated with a few negations; primitive Quakerism won its triumphs by a robust and full-blooded spiritual life. The Assembly's catechism correctly defined the chief end of man to be "to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." The Friends exemplified the definition in actual life. Most professing Christians, in spite of their beautifully finished creed, were still in bondage to questions like these: "Shall we succeed in life, and what will men think of us, and how will they treat us, if we act up to our convictions?" Such questions troubled the Quakers very little. They acted as if they believed religion a sufficient end and object in life, worth living for, and worth dying for. This was the way in which they glorified God, and so they did enjoy Him even in this life. They had great peace and joy in believing. The power of God was in their gatherings and attended their ministry. They were mighty in prayer, and did wonders through their strong faith. Their acquaintance with experimental religion was astonishing, and their knowledge of the word of God extensive and practically useful, such as might be expected from men who searched it lovingly, and relied upon its counsels in the affairs of life. Above all they were enabled to do what they most aspired to do, to live a holy life. They were rich not only in gifts but in grace. All this commended Quakerism to such men as Swintoune and Jaffray and the Barclays. It was better proof than the exactest syllogism, and far more satisfying to the soul than the best compacted creed.

Henceforth Robert Barclay's life is closely connected with the history of Quakerism, and especially of Quakerism in northern Scotland. He did not travel so much as many Friends beyond his own country in the service of the gospel, but his position, wealth, and learning were freely devoted to the service of "the truth." It is not clear that the same earnest evangelising spirit prevailed in Scotland which inspired the English Friends. For some reason the society never gained such numbers north of the Tweed as it did in England. Possibly they were too jealous of activity. In a letter of Christian Barclay's, written after her husband's death, I find a sad instance of that mischievous overvaluing of silence, which did so much harm amongst the Quakers in the eighteenth century. Writing to Friends in and about Aberdeen, she says, after a warning against "needless jesting,"--"in the bowels of motherly love is my heart towards you all, desiring we may all travel more and more into silence, for it is a safe place. Let all our conversations be more and more in it. Let us all in whatsoever state or station we be in, remember ourselves to be in it. As we are gathered in our minds in it, we shall less and less desire the best of words; _for inward silence as far exceedeth the best of words as the marrow exceeds the bone_." Certainly, as she goes on to say "the sensible knows beyond expression." But "how forcible are right words!" The spread of this Quietistic spirit amongst Friends effectually stopped the evangelistic work which marked and glorified the early years of their society. It also so dwarfed and discouraged true ministry that the marvel is that the Society survived.

Barclay's life belongs to the sad list of bright biographies as it seems to us too soon cut short by death. He died in his prime, when every year seemed to bring increased usefulness and influence for good. He was but eighteen when he was converted, but nineteen when he began to preach; his first controversial work was written when he was twenty-two, and almost the whole of his writings were produced during the next nine years, and yet they fill nine hundred folio pages!

The little band of Scottish Friends contained several remarkable men, with whom he had close and continued intercourse. For several years after his conversion, until 1673, ALEXANDER JAFFRAY (see pp. 83 & 93) survived, infirm in the body, but bright and happy in soul. His long unrest was ended; he had found amongst the Friends the close walk, the pure life, and the godly and loving brotherhood that he had long sought. The only thorns in his dying pillow were the persecuting spirit of the churches, and the non-conversion of his beloved wife. She, however, was so impressed by his death-bed experiences and testimony that she soon afterwards joined the Society. GEORGE KEITH, a graduate of Aberdeen University, was a zealous advocate of Quakerism by tongue and pen, doing and suffering with a loving zeal, on which he looked back with regretful glances after his decline and perversion. He became a Friend in 1663, and for thirty years was a pillar amongst the brotherhood. His treatises on "Immediate Revelation" and on the "Universal Light, or the Free Grace of God asserted" were highly valued by Friends. He settled in Pennsylvania; but changing his social and religious opinions, he quarreled with his brethren and with the authorities there; and after an attempt to form a new sect of "Christian Friends," he came to England and joined the established church. He was put forward as a resolute opponent of his old allies. But Gough in his History of Friends gives reasons for believing that he was conscious at the last that he had declined in grace at this time. To a Friend who visited him on his dying bed, he is reported to have said, "I wish I had died when I was a Quaker, for then I am sure it would have been well with my soul." JOHN SWINTOUNE, already mentioned, was a frequent visitor at Ury, at Monthly Meetings and other special times. Sir Walter Scott claims him as one of his ancestors. He, like Jaffray, turned from a life of political activity and honours, to a life of hearty devotion to Quakerism. He was of very good family, baron of Swintoune, and at one time one of the Lords of Sessions. He had been so mixed up with the affairs of the commonwealth, that at the Restoration he was thrown into prison, and was in great peril. But in the meantime the light of divine truth shone into his heart, and when brought to trial, he was more ready to condemn himself than his judges could be, and only anxious to tell of the goodness of God to his soul. Bishop Burnet says "He was then become a Quaker, and did with a sort of eloquence that moved the whole house, lay out his own errors, and the ill-spirit he was in, when he did the things that were charged on him, with so tender a sense, that he seemed as one indifferent what they should do with him; and without so much as moving for mercy, or even for a delay, he did so effectually prevail on them, that they recommended him to the king as a fit object for his mercy." His estates, however, seem not to have been restored to him, for in 1682 we find Robert Barclay opening his liberal purse to assist him. We have seen how useful he was to David Barclay and again to Robert Barclay at the time of their convincement; for besides his religious experience, he had, says the Biographia Brittanica, "as good an education as almost any man in Scotland, which, gained to very strong natural parts, rendered him a most accomplished person."

Amongst the pious if not prominent members of the little church at Aberdeen were Bailie Molleson and his wife. The latter died young, but her death-bed was surrounded by a halo of glory through her triumphant faith. Her daughter, Christian, had joined the Friends in her sixteenth year. She won the favourable regard and then the warm affection of the young laird of Ury, and he addressed to her the following religious love-letter.

28th of 1st month, 1669.

"Dear Friend,

Having for some time past had it several times upon my mind to have saluted thee in this manner of writing, and to enter into a literal correspondence with thee so far as thy freedom could allow, I am glad that this small occasion hath made way for the beginning of it.

The love of thy converse, the desire of thy friendship, the sympathy of thy way, and meekness of thy spirit, has often, as thou mayst have observed, occasioned me to take frequent opportunity to have the benefit of thy company; in which I can truly say I have often been refreshed, and the life in me touched with a sweet unity which flowed from the same in thee, tender flames of pure love have been kindled in my bosom towards thee, and praises have sprung up in me to the God of our salvation, for what he hath done for thee! Many things in the natural will occur to strengthen and encourage my affection toward thee, and make thee acceptable unto me; but that which is _before all and beyond all_ is, that I can say in the fear of the Lord that I have received a charge from him to love thee, and for that I know his love is much towards thee; and his blessing and goodness is and shall be unto thee so long as thou abidest in a true sense of it."

After speaking of Christian contentment, "from which there is safety which cannot be hurt, and peace which cannot be broken," he warns her against the dangers to which they were both exposed from their easy circumstances, and concludes--"I am sure it will be our great gain so to be kept, that all of us may abide in the pure love of God, in the sense and drawings whereof we can only discern and know how to love one another. In the present flowings thereof I have truly solicited thee, desiring and expecting that in the same thou mayst feel and judge.

ROBERT BARCLAY."

The reader accustomed to modern Quaker phraseology, will be astonished to find it so purely spoken by so young a convert at this early date of the Society's history. But he must remember what is too often overlooked in studying the writings of the early Friends, that the Friends simply adopted in many things the religious phraseology of the times (See Barclay's Inner Life, p. 214). But he cannot fail also to be charmed with the blending of love and piety in this epistle. Within a few months of the mother's death, the young couple were married in the simple Quaker fashion. This was the first wedding of the kind in Aberdeen, and it roused in the minds of many ministers and others much unnecessary alarm and irritation. The Bishop of Aberdeen was stirred up to procure letters summoning Robert Barclay before the Privy Council for an unlawful marriage; but, says the Ury record, "the matter was so overruled of the Lord that they never had power to put their summons into execution, so as to do us any prejudice."