The first question that appealed to the heart was concerning comfort and convenience. Their churches were occupied by other ministers. There the people could have preaching, hear the Word, listen to prayers, sing Psalms, and receive baptism and the Lord's Supper. True, the services were spiced and ornamented with details, which the Covenanters disliked, because they were unscriptural. But could they not find hidden manna on the sand, and kernels of wheat in the chaff? Could they not get sufficient food in the new ministrations to sustain their souls? Could they not reach heaven by the new road as certainly as by the old? Such were the inquiries that appealed to their love of ease. These sturdy sons of the Covenant said, "NO." They said it, too, with emphasis like the lightning that strikes the oak. They said, "Public worship, not in all parts according to the Book of God, is corrupt; we will not participate in such services, for the Lord has said, 'Cursed be the deceiver, that sacrificeth unto the Lord a corrupt thing.'" The second question was concerning the imminent dangers that attended their own services. Their meetings were held in distant places; in the lonely mountain, on the homeless moor, in the swampy moss, in the dark glen, among the rugged rocks, and in the dreary cave--just wherever they could find a place to worship God in peace. They had no roof for shelter, no walls to break the storm, no fires for heat. Attending these meetings involved travel, weariness, hunger, exposure, loss of sleep, shivering in the cold, every physical strain, besides the risk of life, liberty, and property, at the hands of the enemy. These heroic sons and daughters of the Covenant said, "We will go; if we perish, we perish; though He slay us, yet will we trust in Him." These Covenanters would not habituate themselves to sinful conditions, nor permit their conscience to be drugged with the love of ease. They had much of the spirit of Paul; they counted all things loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ. They consulted not with flesh and blood; not even with their own flesh, which was often wasted with hunger, fatigue, and pain; nor with their own blood, which was frequently sprinkled on the heather and mingled with the mountain rill.