CAR STA R ES, WILLI AM, an eminent Scotch clergy man and statesman, was born on the I Ith of February t 649. From his father, who was minister of Cathcart, in the neighbourhood of Wasgow, he received the hest echication which the country could afford. Ile was placed under the care of mr Sinclair, a Presbyterian clergyman at Ormiston, who kept a large and genteel academy. There he, acquired that taste for literature by tt hich he was afterwards so much distinguished, and formed those connections, WISH) he continued to maintain, with some of the first men in the kingdom. Front this academy he went to the University of Edinburgh, where he made great progress in the scholastic philosophy of the times, and ultimately applied, with a professional view, and with considerable success, to the study of theology. But his attention soon began to turn from divinity to politics. The situation of the country, and the complaints of the people, operating upon a mind naturally generous and ardent, determined him to co-operate with those who were seeking a redress of grievances, and to devote his services to the cause of civil and religious freedom. His father, apprehensive of his engaging too deeply in that opposition to the court measures which was then going on, sent him to the University of Utrecht, under the pretence of affording hint the best opportunities of com pleting his studies. But this measure of precaution had an effect the very contrary of what it was intended to produce. Young Carstares got a letter of introduction from his father to a physician in London, who happened to be one of those who kept up a correspondence with Holland; and who, on finding that he was well acquaint ed with Scottish affairs, and might be of great service to the Prince of Orange, gave him a letter of recommen dation to the prince's physician. Through this medium he was soon introduced to the Pensionary Pagel, and next to \Villiam himself, from whom he received every mark of confidence and favour, and with whom lie now laid the foundation of that friendship which subsisted be tween them till death. After residing for some time at Utrecht, and attending no less to political business than to literary pursuits, he returned to his native country, at once possessed of all the secrets of the Dutch court, and confirmed in those principles of liberty which he had originally embraced. He obtained license to preach the gospel according to the Presbyterian form, to which, both from conviction and education, he was strongly at tached. But seeing no prospect of being useful as a clergyman in Scotland, he resolved to go back to Hol land, where he was sure to enjoy those privileges which were withheld from him at home. As he intended to go by London, he was employed by Argyle, and the other Scotch patriots, to treat with the English ecclesiastics ; and accordingly he had several conferences with them, and engaged in negociations with the malcontents every where, for the purpose of securing an union of counsel and of efforts in the common cause. He engaged in the
Rye-house plot, deeming it perfectly justifiable to take up arms for the assertion of those constitutional rights which had been violently invaded, and which remon strances and complaints had failed to recover ; but at the same time expressing the utmost abhorrence of thc pro posal which had been made to gain that object more ef fectually, by the assassination of the King and the Duke of York. On the discovery of this plot, he was appre hended and thrown into prison, where he remained for eleven weeks. At length he petitioned the Court of King's Bench for his Habeas Corpus , but, io...ead of obtaining it, he was, contrary to his ow n desire, at d t the maxims of criminal justice, sent do•.n to take !Ili trial in Scotland. As soon as he arlived in he was put into irons. For several weeks he eooti oied in that painful situation, urged all the ti hilt ino,t ca nestly by one or the secretaiies or state to dim tt elf he knew, and encouraged to do so by the promi c I J pardon. method not su•ee•dit.,, he was t ed to the torture,—a mode of extracting et i hem e still existed in all its N 1;;0111* ; but, though it tt as iuflict ed with great severity in presence of the privy c owe he bore it with the utmost firmness, and persisted in maintaining an unbroken silence. At length, a milder and more insidious treatment was resorted to, which had the effect of subduing, in some measure, the stubborn ness of his virtue. On condition of his answering- cer tain questions that were put to him, he was not only as sured of receiving a pardon for himself, but also of never being produced as a witness, or having any of his state ments brought forward as evidence, in the trial of any other person. He stipulated, besides, that these engage ments should be confirmed by a regular deed of caul t, and distinctly recorded in their books. This agreement, however, was shamefully N iolated by the government, who printed what they called Mr Carstares's confession, containing a very imperfect and false acco•int of the transaction, and basely employed it to procure the con viction and condemnation of Mr Baillie of Jet N one of his most intimate friends. This circumstance af fected him deeply, and had nearly overwhelmed his spirit. During his confinement in the castle, where nobody had access to him but his enemies, and where he had to struggle with the infirmities of a shattered constitution, as well as with the peculiar evils of his situation, he endeavoured to relieve the irksomeness of his captivity by the frequent perusal of Thuanus the historian, a copy of which he had fortunately pro cured, and which he carefully read over no less than three times.