NOTE.
The Last and Heavenly Speeches of John, Viscount Kenmure, are now reprinted from the first edition of the work, a quarto volume, extending to thirty pages, printed at Edinburgh, in 1649, by “Evan Tyler, Printer to the King’s Most Excellent Majesty.” They have appeared at different times, in various forms, and were long highly popular in Scotland.
There appears no reason to question the truth of the tradition which assigns the volume to Samuel Rutherford as its author. It bears internal evidence of being his; while the Epistle Dedicatory,—’For the whole Nobility of Scotland,’ is characterized by that unflinching boldness, and rich scriptural illustration, by which Rutherford was signalized even in an age of signal men.
The nobleman whose dying speeches are here given was John Gordon of Lochinvar, who was born in 1599, and raised to the peerage with the title of Viscount Kenmure, in the year 1633. His family had existed for many generations in Galloway, and certain of his ancestors are said to have harboured some of the disciples of Wickliffe, when they visited Scotland to propagate the truth. It is certain, from Livingstone’s Characteristics, and various other sources, that several branches of the family were conspicuous for their godliness, and helped to establish and extend the principles of the Reformation in Scotland.
We have seen, in the Life of Welsh, that young Kenmure was for some time an inmate of his house during his residence in France, and it may be believed, that their intercourse was the means of planting or of strengthening the truth in his mind. At all events, he strove, for some time after his return to his native country, to promote its welfare in the highest sense.
Lord Kenmure married Lady Jane Campbell, sister to the Marquis of Argyll, beheaded in 1661; but though she was a woman of high-toned piety, and held a prominent place among the Presbyterians of her times, it appears that he did not hold fast his integrity. Ambition took possession of his mind; and while struggling to secure its object, he became less and less interested in the cause and progress of truth. He was connected with the house of Gowrie, and was anxious that its forfeited honours and earldom should be revived in his person. This allured him into paths of defection; and the “Epistle Dedicatory” which follows will exhibit his views on the subject, when he took a retrospect of his life from that spot—a death-bed—where all becomes solemn reality or dismal delusion,—where the pomps and vanities of the world are estimated at their real value, as “less than nothing,”—or where they continue to be prized, because conscience continues seared, till the victim sink into eternity. He confessed at last that “he had deserted the Parliament,” where he should have stood firm in resisting the innovations that were made on the freedom and constitution of his country, and the result of that and other measures was “the fearful wrestlings of conscience” confessed in the following Speeches. He died on the 12th of September, 1634.
Taken from Select Biographies, edited for the Wodrow Society, Volume First.
Upon the last of August, 1634, which was the Sabbath of the Lord, when this nobleman’s body was much weakened, he was visited with a religious and learned pastor, who then lived in Galloway, not far distant from my Lord Kenmure’s house. He rejoiced at the coming of this pastor to his house, and observed and spake of a directing and all-ruling Providence, who had sent to him such a man, who had been abroad from Galloway for other occasions, and had returned sooner than his own expectation was, or his business could permit. After supper, about eleven hours at night, my Lord drew on a conference with the said pastor, saying, “I am heavily weighted and affrighted in soul with two great burdens: The one is fear of death, the other, extreme and vehement bodily pain; but the former is heavier than the latter, for I never dreamed that death had such a sour and austere gloom, and such a terrible and grim-like countenance. I dare not die, howbeit I know I must die. What shall I do? for I dare not venture in grips with death, because I find my sins so grievous and so many, that I fear my accounts be ragged and out of order, and not so as becometh a dying man.”
The pastor answered, “My Lord, there is a piece of nature in all men, (the believers not excepted), whereby to them the first look upon death is terrible and fearful; but, my Lord, believe in him who died for you, and look the second and third time upon death’s face; and if you be in Christ, you shall see Jesus hath put a white mask upon death; and I dare say, if this be the time of your dissolution, I trust in God you shall both change your mind and words; for if you have a good second in the combat, (such as is only Christ), your Lord will possibly let your conscience wrestle with the fears of death; yet he is beholding fair play, and I hope Christ Jesus shall not be a naked beholder, and say, ‘Deal it betwixt you,’ as he doth in the death of reprobates, but shall lend you help, for borrowed strength is all your strength here; yea, I hope Jesus Christ shall give death the redding stroke. But, my Lord, I fear more the ground of your fear of death, which is (as you say) the conscience of your sins: for there can be no plea betwixt you and your Lord if your sins be taken away in Christ, for then death loseth its action of law against you, you being in Christ, and therefore make that sure work and fear not.”
My Lord answered, “I have been too late in coming to God, and have deferred the time of my making my accompts so long, that I fear that I have but the foolish virgins’ part of it, who came and knocked at the door of the bridegroom too late, and so never got in.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, I have gathered by experiences, and observed in sundry, especially in your father, that when they were plunged over head and ears in the world, and had cast down old barns, and built up new again, God came in a month’s space and less, and plucked them from their deceiving hopes, before they got half a bellyful, yea, or a lucky mouthful of the world; and this, my Lord, looketh like your case, for you know how deep yourself hath been in the world, in building, planting, parking, seeking honours, and now belike your summons are to a short day.”
My Lord answered, “It’s true I have been busy that way, but my intentions were honest, and only to free myself of burdens and business.”
The pastor not being content with such a naked answer in such a weighty proposition, drew the conference about again to his fear of death, and to a reckoning with his Lord; and said, “My Lord, you know that it is one of the weightiest businesses that ever you put hand to, (to die,) especially seeing judgment is at death’s back: faults in your life are mendable by repentance, but one wrong footstep in death is conjoined with eternal loss; for there is neither time nor place to regret of evil and bad dying; therefore I entreat you, my Lord, by the mercies of God, by your appearance before Christ your Judge, and by the salvation of your soul, that you would here look ere you leap, and venture not into eternity without a testificate under Jesus Christ’s hand, because it is the curse of the hypocrite, (Job xx. 11,) ‘He lieth down in the grave, and his bones full of the sins of his youth.'”
My Lord replied, “When I begin to look upon my life, I think all is wrong in it, and the lateness of my reckoning affrighteth me; therefore stay with me, and shew me the marks of a child of God: for you must be my second in this combat, and wait upon me.” His Lady answered, “My heart, you must have Jesus Christ to be your second;” unto the which he said heartily, “Amen.”
Then said my Lord, “But how shall I know that I am in the state of grace? for while [until] I be resolved, my fears will still overburden me.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, hardly or never doth a cast-away anxiously and carefully ask the question, whether he be the child of God or not?”
Then my Lord, out of desire to be persuaded of his salvation, excepted against that mark, and said, “I do not think that there is any reprobate in hell but he would with all his heart have the kingdom of heaven.”
The pastor, having differenced to him what sort of desires of salvation falleth in reprobates, my Lord said, “You never did see in me any tokens of true grace, and that is my great and only fear.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, I was sorry to see you carried so fearfully away with temptations, and you know whether by word or writ I did give you warning that it would come to this that you see this night. I would wish your soul were deeply humbled for sin; but to your demand, I say, I thought you had ever a love to the saints, and even to the poorest and silliest who carried Christ’s image, howbeit they could never serve nor pleasure you in any way; and John saith, (1 John iii. 14,) ‘By this we know we are translated from death to life, because we love the brethren’;” with that mark he was, after some objections, convinced.
The pastor asked him, “My Lord, dare you now quit your part of Christ, and subscribe an absolute resignation of Jesus Christ?”
My Lord said, “O Sir, that is too hard: I hope He and I have more to do together than so: I will be advised ere I do that.”
Then my Lord asked, “What mark is it to have judgment to discern a minister called and sent of God, and an hireling?” The pastor allowed it as a good mark also, and cited to him John x. 4, “My sheep know my voice.”
At the second conference, the pastor urged a necessity of a deep humiliation, and said, “My Lord, you know Christ must have sick souls to work upon, and not the whole.” My Lord said, “God knoweth but that is a needful ‘must.’ Oh if I could get him! but sin causeth me to be jealous of his love to such a man as I have been.”
The pastor said, “Be jealous of yourself, my Lord, but not of Jesus Christ; and know that there is no meeting betwixt Christ and you, except ye ‘be weary and laden;’ for his commission from the Father (Isa. lxi. 1, 2, 3) is only to the ‘broken-hearted, to the captives, to the prisoners, and to the mourners in Zion’.”
Whereupon my Lord said, with a deep sigh and with tears, “God send me that:” and thereafter reckoned out a number of sins, which, said he, are as serpents and crocodiles before my eyes. Thereafter my Lord said, “But this hath been a sudden warning that God hath given me. What shall I do? I am afraid to die; and I can neither win through death nor about it.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, death and you are strangers; you have not made your acquaintance yet with death. I hope you will tell another tale of death ere all the play be ended; and you shall think death a sweet messenger, who is coming to fetch you up to your Father’s house.”
Upon this he said with tears, “God make it so:” and desired the pastor to pray.
At the third conference, my Lord said, “Death bindeth me strait. O how sweet a thing it is to seek God in health, and in time of prosperity to make our accounts! for now, through bodily pain, I am so distempered that I cannot get my heart framed to think upon my accounts and the life to come.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, it’s a part of your battle to fight against sickness and pain, no less than against sin and death, seeing sickness is a temptation.”
My Lord said, “I have taken the play very long; God hath given me five and thirty years to repent, (and, alas! I have mispent it,) and now I see an ugly sight:” then he covered his face with a linen cloth, and burst into tears and wept sore.
The pastor said, “My Lord, they be far behind who may not follow: think not your time so late. Christ’s door is yet half open; you have time to throng in, and your time is not all spent as yet: it’s, I grant, far after noon, and the back of the day is now, yea, the edge of your evening; but run fast that ye lie not in the fields, and miss your lodging.”
Upon that my Lord said, with his eyes lifted up to heaven, “Lord, how can I run? ‘Lord draw me, and I shall run,'” (Cant. i.) The pastor hearing that, desired him to pray, but he answered nothing; but within one hour after he called for the pastor, and in the hearing of his Lady and him, he prayed divinely and graciously with tears. The contents of his prayer were a bemoaning to God of his weak estate, both inward and outward; for, said he, “Lord, I am oppressed with pain without, sorrow and fear within. I dare not knock at thy door: I lie at it but scraping as I may, till thou come out and take me in. I dare not speak: I look up to thee, and wait on for a smack and kiss of Christ’s fair face. O! when wilt thou come?”
At the fourth conference, he calling for the pastor, said, “I charge you go to a secret place to God, and pray for me, and take help of others with you, and do it not for the fashion. I know prayer will pull Christ out of heaven.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, what shall we seek from God to you? give us a commission from your own mouth.”
My Lord answered, “I charge you to tell my beloved that I am sick of love.”
The pastor said, “Shall we seek life and recovery to you?” He answered, “Yea, if it be God’s good pleasure; for I find my fear of death now less, and I think God is loosening the roots of this deep grown tree of my soul so strongly fastened to this life.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, you must swear a covenant to God, that if he restore you to this life again, you shall renew your obedience to God, and that Jesus Christ shall be dearer to your soul than your honours, pleasures, credit, place, baronies, and lands, and all that you have.” He said, ere the pastor had ended, “I trow so, and all too little for him; and, by God’s grace, I bind myself, under the pain of everlasting wrath, to abide by that covenant if the Lord should restore me.”
The pastor said, “My Lord, our hearts are deceitful above all things. See that you be honest and steadfast to Jesus Christ in your covenant.” Then he read to him the 78th Psalm, 36 verse, of a false covenant that men often make under heavy troubles; and verse 34, “When he slew them, then they sought him, and they returned, and enquired early after God;” and verse 35, “And they remembered that God was their rock, and the high God their Redeemer;” and verse 36, “Nevertheless they did flatter him with their mouth, and they lied unto him with their tongues;” and verse 37, “For their heart was not right with him, neither were they steadfast in his covenant.” My Lord, when he heard this read, said, “In despite of the devil, that’s not my covenant.” My Lord took the Bible, and said, “Mark other Scriptures for me to read:” and he marked to him the 2 Cor. v.; Rev. xxi.; Rev. xxii.; Isa. xxxviii.; Psal. xxxviii.; John xiv. These places he turned over, and cried frequently, “Lord, for one of thy love-blanks! O, Son of God, one sight of thy face!”
The pastor said, “My Lord, your prayers and your tears are come up before God, and Christ hath obtained a pardon for you.” My Lord took the pastor by the hand, and drew him to him, and said with a sigh and tears, “Good news indeed.” Thereafter he called the pastor, and convened such as went with him to pray for him, and said, “Have you gotten any heavenly liberty and access to God in Christ for my soul?” They said they had; and he rejoiced, and said, “Then I will believe and wait on. I cannot think but my beloved is coming leaping over the mountains and skipping over the hills.” When any friends or others came to visit him whom he knew to fear God, he said at the first, “Go try your power with God for me: go and pray.” He sent two of them, at their first coming to him, to the wood of the Kenmure, expressly to pray for him. After some cool of a fever, (as was thought,) he said to a gentlewoman, who was a good Christian, who, at his own desire, attended him continually, “Marion, I desire one word of the pastor,” who being called, came, to whom he said smiling, “Joy now, for he is come. O! if I had a tongue to tell the world what Jesus Christ hath done to my soul!”
But after this, my Lord conceiving hope of recovery, became exceeding careless, remiss, and dead, and seldom called for the pastor. For the space of two days he continued so, hoping to recover, howbeit upon no terms would he permit the pastor to go home to his kirk and flock till the Lord’s day was passed. This coldness gave occasion of heaviness to my Lady, and the pastor, and other his friends and lovers, seeing his care for his soul so exceedingly slacked: this made the pastor go to the physician, and ask his judgment for his life, who answered plainly that there was nothing for him but death, which would be certain if his flux returned, which in effect did return. This made the pastor go in to him, and say, “My Lord, I have a necessary business to impart unto you;” and he said, “Say on.”
“My Lord, you are not aware of a deep and fearful temptation of the devil, by the which your soul is dangerously ensnared: you have conceived hope to return back again to this life, but I tell you, my Lord, ere it be long, you shall be presented before the Judge of quick and dead, to receive doom and sentence according to your works. I have warrant for me to say this; therefore, I beseech you, my Lord, as you tender your own soul’s salvation, be not deceived. Ere it be long, time will be no more with you: eternity is drawing on: your glass is shorter than you are aware of; Satan would be glad to steal your soul out of this life sleeping.”
The physician likewise seconded these speeches, and faithfully gave him warning of the danger of his disease, and told him, for the salvation of his soul, it was his wisdom to be prepared; and told him plainly, that he thought his time should not be long. After these words, he took the pastor by the hand, and said that he “found faithful and plain dealing. This man and I will not sunder till death sunder us. Now I will set aside all things. I know one thing is needful: it was but the folly of my deceiving heart to look back over my shoulder to this life when I was fairly on once in my journey towards heaven;” and, therefore, he caused all men to go out of the chamber save only the pastor, and caused him close the doors and confer with him anent the state of his soul.
The pastor, after prayer, said, “My Lord, I perceive I have been deceived and your Lordship also, for your joy I fear hath not been well rooted, neither your humiliation so deep as need were. We must dig deeper again, and seek a lower foundation; for when I bethink me of your coldness in devotion, and your untimous relenting in the necessary work of making your reckoning with your Judge, upon vain conceived hope of recovery of health, I see certainly the work is not sure: one pin is loose. Your Lordship knoweth this church and country have been grievously offended at many gross and open sins in you, both against the first and second table of the Law:” and upon this the pastor burthened him with sundry particulars, and told him plainly, and said, “My Lord, my mistake of the case of your soul hath been from hence, that you have never cleared yourself of many predominants and bosom sins, whereof I both spake and writ to you; and you may remember how malcontent you were at a sharp letter of many particulars that I writ to your Lordship, and how at your house of Rusco you made half a challenge of it to me; for I found you always witty to shift and cover any thing whereof you were rebuked. Howbeit, at my first coming to this country, when you sided too much with a gentleman of your name who killed a man vilely, you promised willingly to receive and take in good part what I freely told your Lordship was amiss.”
Whereupon my Lord reckoned out a number of fearful sins, which, because Jesus Christ hath covered, the pastor will never discover; but amongst all, he ingenuously and freely confessed his sin in deserting the last Parliament, and said, “God knoweth I did it with the fearful wrestlings of my conscience, my light paying me home within, when I seemed to be glad and joyful before men; yet I did [it] for fear of incurring the indignation of my prince, and the loss of farther honour, which I certainly expected; but woe, woe be to honours, or any thing else, bought with the loss of peace of conscience and God’s favour!”
(To be continued.)