erary one of the Seraphic
order.... I do not rejoice so much in them (although these commutable
pieces of money are at present very useful to me) as I do at the
renewing of the memory of my deceased friends, and the prospect of our
friendship being perpetuated in their posterity, who have given such a
favourable presage of future virtue and genuine piety; for what else
could have induced them to take such an interest in my affairs at this
time? Wherefore I congratulate them, and I rejoice that this favourable
opportunity of transmitting friendship inviolate from father to son and
grandson has been afforded.'
The only matter on which there was ever a hint of misunderstanding
between Melville and his nephew was the latter's second marriage, to
which the uncle was at first much opposed. Their correspondence on this
subject contains some passages of lively repartee, in which the elder
undoubtedly came off second best. 'The chaste father'--so the younger
writes--'who reposed in the embraces of Minerva was not to measure
others by himself; he was not ashamed to own he was in love; ay, and had
he not the highest precedents for the step he was taking--there were
Knox, and Craig, and Pont, and who not else of the venerable fathers of
the Church!' 'My sweet Melissa' soon won uncle Andro's affection, and
many a gift of garments, embroidered by her skilful hands, found its way
to the lonely prisoner in the Tower.
At the close of 1610, the English Ambassador at the French Court brought
a request from the Duke de Bouillon, a leading French Protestant, to the
King that he would give Melville his release, in order that he might go
to Sedan to fill the collegiate Chair of Divinity in the University.
After some negotiations, in which James showed his old grudging spirit
towards his prisoner, the request was granted. But it was not easy for
Melville to tear himself away from his native land. Writing to his
nephew, he says:--
'I am in a state of suspense as to the course which I ought to
take. There is no room for me in Britain on account of
pseudo-Episcopacy--no hope of my being allowed to revisit my
native country. Our bishops return home after being anointed
with the waters of the Thames. Alas, liberty is fled! religion
is banished! I have nothing new to write to you, except my
hesitation about my banishment. I reflect upon the active life
which I spent in my native country during the space
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