ously and with courage cut off." To this formidable appeal, the archbishop endeavoured to answer, but it was only with frivolous objections, and threats of the king's displeasure, while his courage was so utterly gone that he could scarcely sit, far less stand on his feet. But the business commenced, the process was entered into, and Adamson left the meeting. He was invited to return, but he sent for answer that the synod was no judge to him, but he to it. He not only persisted in refusing to appear, but sent such answers to the charges against him as only aggravated the offence. Nothing remained but to inflict upon him the final sentence of the church, which was done accordingly. After enumerating his offences, it thus concluded:—"Therefore, and for divers other notorious slanders whereof he was to be accused, and refused to underly any lawful trial, the assembly, in the fear of God, and in the name of Christ Jesus, moved by zeal to the glory of God, and purging of His kirk, ordains the said sentence of excommunication instantly to be put into execution in the face of the assembly; and, by the mouth of Mr Andrew Hunter, minister at Carnobie, at command and appointment of the assembly, declares him to be one of those whom Christ commandeth to be holden by all and every one of the faithful as an ethnic or publican."
The doom so long suspended had thus fallen at last; but still the primate would not yield. He rallied himself for a desperate counter-movement, and penned, by his own sole authority, a sentence of excommunication against the two Melvilles, and some of his principal accusers in the synod, which he sent by a boy, accompanied by two of his jackmen; but when this strange and most informal missive was read in the church, the audience were as little moved by it, as if he had excommunicated the stones of the building. He also sent a complaint against these proceedings to the king, with an appeal from the authority of the synod to his majesty, the estates, and the privy council. On the arrival of Sabbath, he prepared for a decisive effort, by preaching in the church in spite of the sentence. But just when he was about to ascend the pulpit, a mischievous rumour reached his ear, that several gentlemen and citizens had assembled in the New College, to take him out of the pulpit, and hang him; and terrified with the tidings, he not only called his friends and jackmen to the rescue, but fled from the church, and took refuge in the steeple. And yet, the whole cause of the stir was nothing more than the assembling of a few gentlemen and citizens in the New College, to attend the preaching of Andrew Melville, instead of that of an excommunicated man! The archbishop's friends followed him to the steeple, to assure him of his safety; but so desperate was his fear, that they could scarcely drag him out by force. While he was half-led, half-carried down the High Street, and through the north gate towards his castle, an unlucky stray hare, terrified at the coming din, suddenly started up, and fled before them. Even this incident could impart some gravity to the scene. It was a popular belief at that time in Scotland that a witch, when pursued, usually assumed the form of a hare, more effectually to ensure her escape; and the appearance of the poor animal at such a time and place, made the people declare that it was no other than the prelate's witch, abandoning her master, to make good her own safety.
We have already stated that Adamson appealed against the sentence of excommunication, to the authority of the king. In this singular appeal, he declaimed with great learning and marvellous plausibility about the right of royalty to interpose against ecclesiastical, as well as civil tyranny; and as he had
