The persecution of the Aberdeen Friends continued unabated until 1679. In the spring of that year Archbishop Sharpe, the chief instigator of it, was assassinated, and Lauderdale removed from office: and immediately came a lull in the storm. In November, Robert Barclay and some others were indeed thrown into prison, but they were released in a few hours. The favour of the Council towards Friends in general, and especially the interest at court of Robert Barclay, were too strong for the persecutors, and they capitulated. Locally the hard fought fight was won.

The royal favour was still more distinctly shown to Robert Barclay when, in the same year, the Ury estate was, by royal charter dated 14th August, erected into a barony, with civil and criminal jurisdiction to himself and his heirs forever. This was about the time when James was made Lord High Commissioner, and being jealous of the influence of Monmouth, was nursing his Scotch popularity. In the act of parliament (1685) confirming the charter, it is said to be granted "for the many services done by Colonel David Barclay and his son the said Robert Barclay to the king and his most royal progenitors in times past." It was swept away, with all kindred privileges, when George II. remodelled the government of Scotland. But the Court Book is still in existence to bear testimony to his conscientious administration of justice.

Three Apostles of Quakerism — Part 85

In this year he also paid another visit to Holland, but was unable to visit his royal correspondent the Princess Elizabeth at Herford. However he wrote her what proved to be a final letter, dated Rotterdam, 6th of the 5th month, 1679. In this characteristically sensitive but affectionately faithful epistle, he says, "Thou may think strange that after so long a silence I should now apply myself to answer thy last (which came to my hands at a time when I was under great bodily weakness) for which I will not trouble thee with any further Apologie than to assure thee that no want of respect or regard to thee, but ane unwillingness to work in mine own will, and a fear in so doing rather to hurt than help thee, hath hindered me until now. Had I given way to my own inclinations, and to the course of that love, which, without flattery I can say I have for thee, so as to have exprest but the hundred part of that concern which frequently possessed me on thy account, I had overcharged thee with my letters. But knowing it is not the will of man that bringeth about the work of God, I choosed rather to be silent than forward. But being through a singular occasion come to this country, and not having access to make thee a visit, I found a true liberty from the Lord in my spirit thus to salute thee." From what follows it seems that either the Princess misunderstood his anxious solicitude for her, or he thought she did. His apology for his urgency is touching. He concludes; "For herein I have peace before God, that I never sought to gather thee nor others to myself, but to the Lord. I pretend to be no sect master, and disgust all such. My labour is only as an ambassadour to instruct all to be reconciled to God, and desire no more than to be manifest in the consciences of those to whom I come that I am such, by the answer of that of God there, to which therefore in my conscience I recommend my testimony." In not seeing the Princess on this visit he missed his last opportunity, for she died the following year. Penn has paid a tribute to her memory in "No Cross, No Crown," in which he says, "I must needs say her mind had a noble prospect; her eye was to a better and more lasting inheritance than can be found below, which made her often despise the greatness of courts, and learning of the schools, of which she was an extraordinary judge."

Three Apostles of Quakerism — Part 85