ention even of the Plymouth
Brethren. I rather think that the Plymouth Brethren should have the
lengthiest treatment of all, seeing that no shred of the Church
resembles so closely the original type of Christianity.

AN INTERLUDE OF METRE.

I have often endeavoured to fix discourses from the Highland pulpits by
embodying in metre (I do not say poetry) the leading thought or most
striking illustration that I carried away. For the sake of variety and
to prevent this chapter from appearing too frivolous, I, at this point,
give one or two "moderate" sermons in little.

I.

When heavy-laden Christian, panting sore,
Had gained the home of the Interpreter,
He saw a sorry fellow with great stir
Ply a vile muck-rake on a filthy floor;
And the more mire the churl raked, the more
He smiled, although a winged messenger
Floating aloft was eager to confer
On him the crown that in her hands she bore.
So is it with those fools that waste their days
In raking stores of dross and minted gear,
Oblivious of the crown of deathless rays
That God is offering freely to them here.
Miser! your stay on earth is short indeed,
Renounce the dross and choose the heavenly meed.

II.

He that is wise will not in haste decide,
But look and think before believing aught;
Then, having long reflected, will confide
To no breast but his own his finished thought,
Until experience warrants every jot.
Man! Suffer not thy soul to yield to pride
Of intellect. Small is thy mortal lot
Of wisdom. Others seek the truth beside
Thyself. Behold aloft in air there fly
Fowls diverse all in nature, strength of wing
And keenness: even so the men who hie
On the soul's quests. In genius differing,
They all some twinkling sparks of truth may see,
But the whole flaming round is hid from them and thee.

III.

Thou who in folly thinkest Heaven's King
Has sent thee into this fair world to gain
As many guineas as, with toil and pain,
In threescore years thine avarice can wring
From poorer men, be warned! With tiger-spring
Fell death will leap upon your life amain
And rive you from your opulence, though fain
To tarry. Then the jovial heir will fling
To the four winds of heaven thy gathered hoard
In flaunting joys and unrestricted glee,
While costly dishes glitter on the board
And the wine flows i