Argyll's place of imprisonment may still be seen in Edinburgh Castle. In Mr. Ward's picture his bed-chamber is before you. Its thick walls, its bare floor, and its heavy vaulted roof are all of stone. Through an open door you look into another room where you see the table at which he has just dined. It is covered with a white cloth, on which are the remains of the dinner, and you notice that the wine-glass that stands beside the flagon has not been emptied. In the nearer room the Earl is lying on the prison bed in his ordinary clothes. He wears a suit of black velvet, with a collar of lace at the neck, and full cuffs of white linen at the wrists. His boots have not been removed, and he is stretched out only as comfortably as his fetters will allow. His head rests on a great white pillow, and his brown hair falls smoothly from beneath his black velvet cap. A newly written letter has fallen from his hand to the floor. You can read the signature, _Argyll_, and the date, _1685_. On a chair at the head of the bed there is a large Bible, and beside it lies an old-fashioned watch, with its hand moving slowly round to the hour of execution. The light from a little window falls on the sleeping prisoner's face, which is fresh coloured and full of peace, with no trace of paleness or fear. Near the foot of the bed the thick outer door, studded with iron, and with a heavy lock, and many bolts, stands open. In the background there is a rough gaoler, holding the door by the key in the lock, while the rest of the bunch of prison keys hangs from his hand. In front of him is the officer of state, fashionably dressed in a rich red cloak, with a tasselled waist-band. His cuffs are of fine lace, he wears a jewelled ring, and his long hair curls down upon his shoulders. He has let his hat fall to the floor in his astonishment, and is staring at the sleeping Earl with remorse and confusion in his face. Such a picture suggests many thoughts. It reminds us of the cruel sufferings our forefathers had to endure for conscience' sake, and of the great debt we owe to those who were ready to lay down their lives in the cause of truth and freedom. It shows also what a terrible thing it is to have a guilty conscience, as the officer who visited Argyll plainly had. It teaches that a bad man's life of remorse and shame is a thing far more miserable, and far more to be feared, than a good man's undeserved death. Above all, it tells us that the secret of courage and calmness, both for living and for dying, is faith in God our Father, and in the Lord Jesus Christ our Saviour. It proves how true are the words, _Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee_. WISHART DISPENSING THE SACRAMENT BEFORE HIS MARTYRDOM BY W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A. [Illustration: WISHART DISPENSING THE SACRAMENT BEFORE HIS MARTYRDOM. From a photograph by J. & R. Annan, Glasgow, by permission of Mr. J. C. Buist.]