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As Senator Henry Cabot Lodge mused, “The blood of some ancestral Scotch Covenanter or of some Dutch Reformed preacher facing the tyranny of Philip of Spain was in his veins, and with his large opportunities and his vast audiences he was always ready to appeal for justice and righteousness.”

If I had been raised in Scotland, on oatmeal, I might have been a Covenanter—nobody knows.

Yet this stern old Covenanter was not without a touch of gentleness and even of hilarity.

David Hackston, the Covenanter, who was a passive assister at the assassination of Archbishop Sharp, belonged to this parish, his place being named Rathillet.

These irregular whigs, have, therefore, spent their ammunition, as profitably, as the old covenanter spent his, who fired a horse pistol against the walls of Sterling Castle.