it to the place, and
requested a free expression of views as to the suitability of the books
that had been given. One venerable old native, with eyes of fire, called
out: "_This Paisley Library has one fatal lack: it contains no works on
controversial divinity._" I ventured to hint that perhaps the omission
was intentional, but that he absolutely refused to believe.

Coming through the Sound of Mull one blustery November day, I heard a
most animated discussion on the question "Has the Deity unlimited Free
Will?" The disputants had all the appearance of sensible crofters--they
certainly talked more intelligibly than most commentators on Kant. Some
of the ship's crew joined in the talk in such a way as to show that they
understood perfectly well the question at issue. Every member of the
ring was wet (the rain was coming down in torrents during the whole
argument), but neither "Ayes" nor "Noes" would admit defeat. When the
boat touched the terminus of Tobermory, much still remained to be said,
and the amateur theologians retired to sum up in a local bar-room. The
incident is characteristic, and could have happened in no other country
but Scotland. Presbyterianism has made the Scot somewhat too
disputatious, but it is surely better to see a man interested in
religion than in nothing at all.

Talking of the union of the Free and U.P. Churches, I am reminded of a
laughable tale told of a Hebridean minister. "Themselves and their
Union, I say, themselves and their Union," he remarked; "I will have
nothing to do with it. I was born Free, ordained Free; I have lived
Free, and I will die Free." "But what about the stipend, Angus?" said
his wife, douce and cautious woman. "Ah, the stipend! Well, if I lose my
stipend, you will have to put on a short petticoat, strap a creel on
your back, and sell _fush_." "And what will you do, Angus, when I'm away
selling _fush_?" "Oh, I will stay at home and pray for a blessing on
your efforts."

The use of Scriptural expressions undoubtedly gives great force to the
language of every-day life. As is well known, certain classes in cookery
have recently been established in a few northern villages. A Highland
minister, in publicly commending these classes, remarked, with a rueful
grimace: "I _do_ wish such classes as these had been in existence when
my wife was young; for, as it is, every dinner she serves up to me is
either a _burnt offering or a bloody sacrifice_!"

The following story comes