The consequence was, that the old gentleman took a ride round the county, in company with his ancient antagonist, with whom (he now mentioned) he had formed a partnership, in consequence of that disagreeable temper, and unhandsome behaviour, which had rendered it impossible for him to avail himself in future of my services. Having thus fairly introduced Mr Mackay, Ronaldson left him to contest the rural practice with me, it having been arranged that the senior partner of the new firm should confine his exertions to the town, as he had of late been wont to do; an arrangement which, in point of fact, the state of his health and strength rendered the reverse of optional.

Certain awkward feelings of my own kept me back almost as much as the zeal of this new alliance; but by degrees many of my friends of the glens deserted the practitioner, (assuredly he was no great witch,) who had thus been, in a manner, forced upon them; and by the end of that summer I was in possession of a free and independent business, less extensive, indeed, but much better paid than that which I had quitted.

During all this time of trouble and vexation, nothing could exceed the composure and sweetness of temper with which my poor Joanne submitted to everything that happened. Her calm, hopeful, confiding spirit had a thousand times more real heroism about it, than my cold pride and stubborn scorn could ever equal. The only thing that I took better than she, was a tolerably clever lampoon, in the shape of a song, the production of the schoolmaster. This effusion, in which I was very scurvily treated, was communicated to her ears by the wife of our clergyman; and Joanne told me of it when I came home, with tears of sorrow and indignation in her eye. I saw that the notion of my being made a laughing-stock had almost broken her heart; but I sung it over to her myself next day, and my gaiety not only restored her to her equanimity, but robbed the satire, such as it was, of its sting elsewhere. Spreta exolescunt.

CHAPTER XX..

It was just when I was maintaining this battle with worldly difficulties that the itinerant Methodists of England first made their appearance in our part of the country.

My wife had heard these preachers once or twice, and as it appeared to me that she came home rather low-spirited, I endeavoured to discourage her from going near them again; but she excited my own curiosity by the terms in which she spoke of the eloquence of the person she had listened to; and one evening, when Mr Whitefield next came to Maldoun, I determined to accompany her, being desirous of judging for myself as to the man's powers of declamation, and also willing to have something in the shape of distinct knowledge in my possession, in case I should afterwards see

fit to oppose Joanne more seriously in her zeal for an entertainment, (such only I considered it,) the tendency of which I strongly suspected to be somewhat dangerous. We repaired together, accordingly, to the church-yard one fine summer's evening, and taking our seat on a tomb-stone, awaited, amidst a multitude, such as I should not have supposed the whole of our valley could have furnished, the forthcoming of the far-famed orator.

And an orator indeed he was. I need not describe him, since you must have read many better descriptions than I could frame; but I will say what I believe, and that is, that Whitefield was, as an orator, out of all sight superior to anything my time, or yours either, has witnessed. The fervour, the passion, the storm of enthusiasm, spoke in every awful, yet melodious vibration of by far the finest human voice I have ever heard. Every note reverberated, clear as a silver trumpet, in the stillness of the evening atmosphere. A glorious sun, slowly descending in a sultry sky, threw a gleam of ethereal crimson over the man and the scene. The immense multitude sat, silent as the dead below them, while the hand of a consummate

genius swept, as with the mastery of inspiration, every chord of passion. My poor girl sat beside me, her eyes filled sometimes to the brink of tears, with that deep, dreamy, lovely melancholy, which so often bespeaks, in woman's gaze, the habit of preferring the romance of earthly things to their truth;—and which reveals also her natural disposition to sigh for an unknown something, better than even the most exquisite of earthly romances can supply-but Joanne's look expressed frequently-as I observed with sorrow and anxiety, in spite of the interest and emotion created for the moment within my own bosom-not that gentle sadness merely, but a dark and almost despairing gloom. I said to myself, as I drew her arm within mine to go home, this man is a prince of orators, but my wife shall hear him no more.

I said what I thought most likely to turn Joanne's thoughts the same night; but although she did not enter into any argument with me, I perceived that all I said was useless. There are some points on which it is in vain to fight with a woman; -and religion, or anything that takes the name of religion, is among them. If I had been an idle