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."
The conversion of the Barclays to Quakerism seems to have fanned
into a flame the fires of persecution both amongst Presbyterians
and Episcopalians. The Presbyterians, though suffering persecution
themselves, zealously preached against the heretics, and were resolute
in excommunicating all who joined them. There is a sad story of one
minister who, against his own conscience, was being compelled to
excommunicate his own daughter, but fell dead in the pulpit whilst
pronouncing the sentence. But the clergy was especially bitter. The
Bishop of Aberdeen, Patrick Scougal, and his primate, Archbishop
Sharpe, were bent on extirpating the sect, and carried out the system
of fine and imprisonment with the utmost vigour. Scougal (father of
Henry Scougal, professor of Divinity in Aberdeen University, and whose
"Life of God in the soul of man" ranks high amongst our religious
classics) was too good for such dirty work. Burnet says of him,
contrasting them with his scandalous brother bishops: "There was indeed
one Scougal, Bishop of Aberdeen, that was a man of rare temper, great
piety, and prudence, but I thought he was too much under Sharpe's
conduct, and was at least too easy to him." Sharpe was just in his
element in the work. A pervert from Presbyterianism for no other reason
than interest, he was a suitable tool for thrusting Episcopacy on
those who hated it. The wanton insults and high-handed violence which
he practiced, roused the bitterest hatred on the part of the populace,
and led to his murder. But from the Quakers he had no violence to
fear. They would only reason, protest, and pray for him; and on a
coarse spirit like his their noble Christian conduct was thrown away.
At last in 1672 the declaration of indulgence cut the claws of these
persecutors and gave their victims relief.
In England the Quakers had a grand service to perform for the
nation, in bearing the brunt of the fierce assault made on liberty
of conscience. Whilst other dissenters temporised and resorted to
stratagems to conceal the fact that they still continued to meet to
worship God, the Quakers openly dared the wrath of the authorities,
and took gladly the penalties of their faithfulness. In Scotland
this faithful service was somewhat varied. In 1662 Episcopacy was
established by law, and Presbyterianism put down. But the Covenanters
were not easily coerced. They took up arms in defence of their
religious liberties. They met to worship God with pistols in their
belts, to defend themselves from the troopers sent to break up their
meetings and to arrest their preachers. The consequences were conflict
and bloodshed. Loyalty to God was confounded with disloyalty to the
crown. The Quakers were not slow to condemn this mode of asserting the
rights of conscience. Besides complicating the issue, they deemed it
inconsistent with faith in God, who was quite competent to vindicate
his own cause without appeal to the sword. They set the example of
passive endurance of persecution, using only spiritual and peaceful
means in resisting interference with the conscience. They appealed to
the consciences of their judges; they petitioned the king's council,
asserting their loyalty to the throne. But whilst these assertions of
loyalty and condemnations of arms won clemency from the Council, they
exasperated the Presbyterians; so that in spite of the fact that they
had a common foe to fight, they wasted their strength in persecuting
their stoutest allies, the Quakers. In 1661 the "drunken parliament"
had met in Edinbro, and vested all executive authority in the king;
so that the power of the Council was unlimited. We see, then, the
profligate ministers of a dissolute monarch, with Lauderdale at their
head, extending protection to the Quakers whom they despised and
ridiculed; and checking the rage of exasperated Covenanters, and the
violence of domineering clergy.
Soon after his marriage, Robert Barclay narrowly missed a first taste
of prison life. The "monthly meeting" at Aberdeen (the gathering of the
local congregations for denominational business, always preceded by
worship) was entered by officers sent by the magistrates to disperse
the assembly. They violently dragged to the Council House all the men
who were present. There the magistrates endeavoured by fair words to
induce them to give up their meeting, and then let them go. If they
had had more experience of Friends they would have anticipated what
followed. In spite of their recent arrest, the released Friends simply
returned to the meeting, and resumed their worship. Soon the officers
"appeared again, and with greater fury than before dragged them back
to the Council House, where the provost and council reprimanded them
for contumacious resistance of civil authority, using much threatening
language. But Friends were preserved in a tranquil and innocent
boldness, so that 'neither the big words nor yet the barbarous deeds'
of their opponents could make them flinch from an honest confession
of the true reasons for their conduct." They were all sent to prison,
except Patrick Livingstone, and the young laird of Ury. To the eager
martyr spirit of the latter, this exemption was quite disappointing.
Young as he was, and so recently married, he would gladly have shared
the hardships of his brethren.
Christian Barclay became a minister of the Society of Friends, but how
early we are not told. She was an admirable wife, and an exemplary
mother to her seven children, all of whom not only survived their
father, but by a remarkable longevity were alive fifty years after
his death. She was a noted nurse, and the poor for many miles round
sought her advice in sickness. No doubt she used these occasions like
a true medical missionary to minister to both body and soul. She lived
to be seventy-five years of age, and was greatly lamented, not only
by her numerous descendants, but by the poor to whom she had been
such a friend, and by the Society to which she belonged, and in whose
spiritual welfare she took a deep and life-long interest.
Robert Barclay was now fairly settled with his young wife at Ury under
his father's roof. His life seems to have been one of retirement and
scholarly research. The fathers and theologians engaged his attention,
as well as the study of the Holy Scriptures in the original tongues, so
that when in 1670 he was drawn into controversy, we find him furnished
with a wealth of material with which to illustrate and enforce his
arguments. There has been found a MS. volume, dated 1670, consisting of
controversial letters addressed by him to one of his uncles, Charles
Gordon, and going over the whole ground of the Quaker controversy.
This correspondence would form a valuable stepping-stone to his future
work. Though his uncle died before the series of letters was complete,
Barclay carried out his plan to the end, and preserved the letters on
both sides as a memorial of his deceased relative.