IN the January number of the Princeton Theological Review Dr. Hay Fleming has an admirable paper on John Howie, which is characterised by the well-known qualities of Dr. Fleming’s historical work. In this article we purpose to give a brief outline of the life-history of the author of the Scots Worthies, and make some references to his famous work.
It appears that the Howies have been tenants of Lochgoin for centuries. There is documentary evidence that there was a Howie in Lochgoin as far back as 1614. Their tenancy, according to tradition, goes even further back. The chief source of information concerning John Howie is a little volume published in 1796, entitled “Memoirs of the Life of John Howie, who lived in Lochgoin, parish of Fenwick, and died 5th January, 1793. Containing a series of religious exercises, soul soliloquies, meditations, and an account of the Lord’s goodness to him in general. Psalm lxxvi. 16, ‘Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.’ To which is subjoined a short, later will, or dying testimony, of James Howie, who lived in Lochgoin, and died soon after the Revolution. Glasgow: Printed for James Howie, Lochgoin. 1796.”
This interesting volume, which is largely taken up with the spiritual struggles and triumphs of the author of the Scots Worthies, has also a “Preface to the Reader,” signed “Publishers,” consisting of nine pages. At the end of the volume “A short narrative of James Howie’s sufferings in the late persecution, with some of his last words at the time of his death,” is given. Lochgoin, in the days of the persecution, was often frequented by the hunted remnant. Captain Paton and Alexander Shields often resorted thither. The place was admirably suited for those who stood in jeopardy of their lives both by day and by night. But notwithstanding the difficulty of access, the dragoons at times found their way to the humble dwelling surrounded on almost all sides by moss hags. Dr. Fleming gives an interesting incident in the life of John Howie, the father-in-law of James referred to above, and great-great-grandfather of the author of the Scots Worthies. He had gone to bed, worn out with an attack of asthma, and had no sooner fallen asleep than he dreamt that he was at Kilmarnock Cross, and heard General Dalziel give orders to some of his men to go to Lochgoin and search for Pentland rebels. He was asked to accompany them as guide, and after going about two miles he was so badly treated by one of the soldiers that his imaginary sufferings broke the spell of the dream and he awoke. He soon fell asleep again, but again he found himself acting as guide to the soldiers. As they were crossing a stream, one of them took him by the shoulders and pushed him in. With this he awoke. Again he fell asleep, and, strange to say, he found himself again leading the soldiers until “he came to his own hill-foot,” where he was ill-treated by the soldiers. He awoke for the third time, and his dream had left such a profound impression upon his mind that he asked those in the house to go out to see if there were any soldiers at hand. And there, sure enough, were the soldiers, coming straight on Lochgoin. The weary fugitives who had been enjoying the hospitable shelter of John Howie’s dwelling, had only time to get into the moss hags and hide themselves under the overhanging banks of a stream running through the moss when the soldiers were at hand. John Howie was too frail to escape, and throwing his cloak about him, he went out to meet the soldiers. The story that he told them as to why the fire was burning at such an early hour satisfied them, and after partaking of some refreshment they returned to Kilmarnock. In such an incident as this we see how the great Shepherd of Israel, who slumbers not, nor sleeps, watches over His inheritance, and though as sheep prepared for the slaughter, their hour had not yet come.
Another incident suggested by James Howie’s memoirs may be related. It has reference to his wife, Isabel Howie. Here is Dr. Fleming’s account of the affair: “On one occasion, when five of the sufferers had spent the whole night with her husband in prayer and conversation, they were surprised in the morning. The night had been very stormy, and, on that account, they felt the more secure. Suddenly the door was opened, and a sergeant, who had left his men outside, stepped in. Isabel Howie at once rushed up to him, and exerting all her strength, pushed him backwards towards the door. In the struggle he fell, and the gun dropped out of his hand. The Covenants ran into the byre, which communicated with the house, and emerged in two parties, James Howie and his son John leaving the byre by one of its two doors, and the rest leaving it by the other. The larger party had to run four or five miles in order to escape. From that day Isabel Howie was a marked woman; and many a cold night she had to spend in a moss hag with a young child at her breast. Before the Revolution came, the house of Lochgoin had been plundered twelve times.”
The author of the Scots Worthies was born in November, 1735. He had been brought up from the time he was a year old at Black’s Hill in the parish of Kilmarnock. In the opening paragraph of the Brief Narrative of some Religious Exercises he tells us that, although he had a religious education and that his grandfather and grandmother, with whom he had been brought up, were reputed for honest, religious persons, yet he was mostly taken up with the common vanities of childhood and youth, having no certain views of religion or of his depraved, lost state and condition; though for a number of years his loss consisted more in a thoughtless, careless, and secure omission of duties—even the religious exercises competent to his age—than any particular vice (only he felt himself too much inclined to vain and unprofitable discourse when in company). In the introduction to his narrative he says:—”If it is thought, in what I have narrated, that I have skipped over the most part of my life, some of my reasons were—it might be of small benefit to either myself or others; my public sins being already known; and for these that were hitherto secret, I have hitherto endeavoured to confess them to the Lord, and hope forgiveness from Him; and what He has been pleased to have concealed, I found myself, as they did not much respect or prejudice others, to let lie in silence; of what seemed good in my conduct I have little to record in that time. I indeed had some respect to God’s Word and ordinances, and a love to these I took to be His people. But, alas! I had little or no delight in either; and although I spent a number of my more advanced years in writing, a part of which is published, and I think, upon the testimony of many, has been useful—at least some of them—in the present generation; and which some eminent and judicious Christians flattered me to be a noble generation work, in transmitting the memories, contentings, sermons, etc., to succeeding generations; yet I disclaim all these things, and account only that the principal part of a man’s life, that is spent in the more immediate exercises of religion, in being united to a God in Christ, and to have communion and fellowship with Him; truly our fellowship is with the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.“
After the death of his first wife he was “somewhat affected,” but these impressions wearing off, his “corruptions revived upon him,” and he suffered a good deal of reproach from his neighbours and relatives. “Yet as,” he says, “ofttimes is the case in circumstances of this nature, things were aggravated, and made much worse than what they really were.” All this time he kept up family worship, attended ordinances and Society [Reformed Presbyterian] Meetings, but omitted sometimes the formality of secret prayer, for to him it was nothing more than formality at this time.
His second wife had the character of a religious woman, and was of a quiet disposition. Her influence over him was for good, but she was almost the means of depriving Scotland of one of her most renowned religious classics, as the following sentences will show:—”While I was writing,” he says, “and collecting the first draught of the Scots Worthies—sometimes in the morning—one morning my wife, who was not without an inclination to religion, being in bed in the little closet where I was writing, she was just going to give me a reproof for my folly in writing—what would I do but make people laugh at my folly—immediately these words came into her mind (Mark vii. 37), ‘He hath done all things well; he maketh both the deaf to hear and the dumb to speak.’ After which she durst never speak against it. And, indeed, from the testimony of many, the consequence was no way unanswerable to what as to this I have observed.”
D. B.