But the time had come for a complete change in the tone and tenour of David Barclay's life. He had gained renown and position, and had allied himself with a branch of the Royal family, but these had brought him neither peace nor satisfaction. Royal blood is no guarantee against disease and death, and he had had to see his beloved wife fade away and die at the early age of forty-three. He had risked limb and life, and had striven with hand and brain to win renown, and position, and wealth, only to find that these things expose their possessor to special trials and dangers. He had found out by hard experience how uncertain was his tenure of earthly good. His sorrows and disappointments prepared his heart for more earnestness about spiritual truth than he had hitherto manifested, and Quakerism was to present that truth in a form which would satisfy his mind and heart.
Perhaps it was whilst on the journey to fetch home his son, that he became closely acquainted with the Quakers. He tells us how he had heard of their simple and conscientious living, and "he considered within himself that if they were really such as even their enemies were forced to acknowledge, there must be something extraordinary about them." Whether or not this knowledge was gained in Aberdeen, where a meeting had been gathered now more than a year, we do not know. But, "being in London" on some errand or other, he had opportunities to enquire into the Quaker principles and practises, which he did to such purpose, that his mind became convinced that their tenets were according to the Scriptures. Still, the cautious Scotchman did not immediately join them.
Immediately afterwards we find David Barclay in prison in Edinbro' Castle. Although he had suffered for the king, he was accused of having held office under Cromwell, and it might have gone hardly with him had he not been befriended by his old chief, the Earl of Middleton. Through the influence of that nobleman the proceedings were quashed, and he was liberated.
This imprisonment, in the ordering of God's providence, brought to the right issue the great crisis of his life. In the same room with him in Edinbro' Castle was imprisoned Sir John Swintoune, who from a soldier and a Presbyterian had become a thorough Quaker. He was so zealous in propagating his opinions that the only way to silence him was to keep him in solitary confinement, which was at one time done for several weeks. No wonder, then, that he urged on David Barclay the full acceptance of the truth.
On leaving the Castle, the colonel seems to have remained in Edinbro' even after he had sent his son, in company with a Quaker, David Falconer, to Ury. In Edinbro' he came out as an acknowledged Friend.
He tells us what points satisfied his sober and careful judgment that the Quakers were right. He was struck with the correspondence between their peace principles and Isaiah's prophecy, that in Gospel times they would beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks. Then again, they were all as brothers, loving and standing by each other, and had not Christ said, that his disciples should be known by their mutual love? The courageous soldier was in sympathy with those who, whilst others worshipped God by stealth, bravely dared all persecution by openly assembling to worship God as their consciences dictated. So he thought within himself, that "if the Lord Jesus Christ had a visible Church on earth these must be they." But all this merely cleared the ground for the final and decisive proof, without which he would never have made a Friend. Feeling his judgment satisfied by these tests, he yielded his heart to the influence of the truth, and he experienced a peace which insults and sufferings could not disturb, and gained an experimental acquaintance with God that satisfied the cravings of his soul.
He became distinguished for his solemn fervour in prayer, his deep piety and uncomplaining meekness in ill-usage—the latter, "a virtue," says one of his descendants, "he was before very much unacquainted with." "One of his relations, upon an occasion of uncommon rudeness, lamenting that he should be now treated so differently from what formerly he had been, he answered, that he found more satisfaction as well as honour in being thus insulted for his religious principles, than when, some years before, it was usual for the magistrates as he passed through Aberdeen, to meet him several miles, and conduct him to a public entertainment in their town-house, and then convey him so far out again, in order to gain his favour." This noble testimony is the subject of one of Whittier's most spirited ballads. The old soldier lived to a ripe old age, his son only surviving him four years.
We have thus traced the career of the father, that we may better understand the influences through which the son passed before his hearty acceptance of Quakerism. He belonged to a family divided in religious opinions, some of the Catholic faith, some Protestant to the core. His abilities, connections, and worldly expectations, all invited him to a distinguished career. Yet from the noblest and purest motives he turned away from brilliant prospects, and from older and more respected churches, and linked himself with a new, despised and persecuted sect.
Robert Barclay was born at Gordonstown, Oct. 23rd, 1648. From both sides of his parentage, he seems to have inherited scholarly ability and literary tastes. His grandfather, Sir Robert Gordon, was a man of culture and refinement, and his great-grandfather, John Gordon (father-in-law of Sir Robert), was Dean of Sarum, a good classical scholar and a keen theologian. On the other side, the Barclays seem to have supplied the Catholic church with several theologians and scholars. From early years he gave promise of great intellectual powers, which were sedulously cultivated at the best schools that Scotland possessed. His uncle Robert offered to look after his education, and took him in hand, as he tells us, when he had "scarcely got out of his childhood." But early as he left Scotland for Paris, he carried with him such impressions of the narrowness and bigotry of his Calvinistic countrymen as remained with him through life. In Paris, his uncle and others so skilfully assailed his Protestant instincts that they succumbed, and he became an avowed Catholic. He was a great favourite with his uncle, who purposed making him his heir, and who watched him through his brilliant college course with the greatest delight.