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abreast of him, he suddenly asked, "Can ye say wha the carle was wi' the black coat and the mousted head wha was wi' the Laird of Cairnvreckan?"

" A presbyterian clergyman," answered Waverley.

“ Presbyterian ! a wretched Erastian, or rather an obscured prelatist,-a favourer of the black indulgence ;-ane of these dumb dogs that cannot bark; they tell ower a clash of terror and a clatter of comfort in their sermons, without ony sense or life Ye've been fed in siccan a fauld, belike?” .No; I am of the Church of England.” ..

" And they're just neighbour-like, and nae wonder they gree sae weel. Wha wad hae thought the goodly structure of the Kirk of Scotland, built up by our fathers in 1642, wad hae been defaced by carnal ends and the corruptions of the time ;ay, wha would hae thought the carved work of the sanctuary would hae been sae soon cut down !"

To this lamentation, which one or two of the assistants chorussed with a deep groan, our hero thought it unnecessary to make any reply. Whereupon Mr Gilfil. lan, resolving that he should be a hearer at least, if not a disputant, proceeded in his Jeremiade.

"And now is it wonderful, when, for lack of exercise anent the call to the ministry and the duty of the day, ministers fall into sinful compliances with patronage and indemnities, and oaths and bonds, and other corruptions, is it wonderful, I say, that you, sir, and other sick-like unhappy persons, should labour to build up your auld Babel of iniquity, as in the bluidy persecuting saint-killing times? I trow, gin ye were na blinded wi' the graces and favours, and services and enjoyments, and employments and inheritances, of this wicked world, I could prove to you, by the Scripture, in what a filthy rag ye put your trust; and that your surplices, and your copes and vestments are but cast-off gar

ments of the muckle harlot, that sitteth upon seven hills, and drinketh of the cup of abomination. But, I trow, ye are deaf as adders upon that side of the head ; ay, ye are deceived with her enchantments, and ye traffic with her merchandize, and ye are drunk with the cup of her fornication !"

How much longer this military theologist might have continued his invective, in which he spared nobody but the scattered remnant of hill-folk, as he called them, is absolutely uncertain. His matter was copious, his voice powerful, and his memory strong; so that there was little chance of his ending the exhortation till the party reached Stirling, had not his attention been attracted by a pedlar who had joined the march from a cross-road, and who sighed or groaned with great regularity at all fitting pauses of his homily.

“And what may ye be, friend?” said Gilfillan. .“A puir pedlar, that's bound for Stir

ling, and craves the protection of your honour's party in these kittle times. Ah! your honour has a notable faculty in searching and explaining the secret,--ay, the secret and obscure and incomprehensible causes of the backslidings of the land; aye, your honour touches the root of the matter."

“ Friend,” said Gilfillan, with a more complacent voice than he had hitherto used, “honour not me; I do not go out to park-dikes, and to steadings, and to market-towns, to have herds and cotters and burghers pull off their bonnets to me as they do to Major Melville o' Cairnvreckan, and call me laird, or captain, or honour ;-no, my sma' means, whilk are not aboon twenty thousand mark, have had the blessing of increase, but the pride of my heart has not increased with them; nor do I delight to be called captain, though I have the subscribed commission of that gospel-searching nobleman, the Earl of Glencairn, in whilk I am so de

signated. While I live, I am, and will be called Habakkuk Gilfillan, who will stand up for the standards of doctrine agreed to by the ance-famous Kirk of Scotland, before she trafficked with the accursed Achan, while he has a plack in his purse, or a drap o' bluid in his body." :

.." Ah," said the pedlar, “I have seen your land about Mauchlin-a fertile spot; your lines have fallen in pleasant places; and siccan a breed o'cattle is not in ony laird's land in Scotland.”

“Ye say right,-ye say right, friend," retorted Gilfillan eagerly, for he was not inaccessible to flattery upon this subject. “ Ye say right; they are the real Lancashire, and there's no the like o' them even at the Mains of Kilmaurs;" and he then entered into a discussion of their excellencies, to which our readers would probably be as indifferent as our hero. After this excursion, the leader returned to his theological discussions, while the pedlar, less profound upon those mystic points, con

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