er at Whitburn (son of the commentator, and
father of the late Rev. Dr. John Brown of Edinburgh, and grandfather of
the present accomplished M.D. of the same name, author of "Rab and his
Friends," etc.), in the early part of the century was travelling on a
small sheltie[21] to attend the summer sacrament at Haddington. Between
Musselburgh and Tranent he overtook one of his own people. "What are ye
daein' here, Janet, and whaur ye gaun in this warm weather?" "'Deed,
sir," quo' Janet, "I'm gaun to Haddington _for the occasion_[22] an'
expeck to hear ye preach this efternoon." "Very weel, Janet, but whaur
ye gaun tae sleep?" "I dinna ken, sir, but Providence is aye kind, an'll
provide a bed." On Mr. Brown jogged, but kindly thought of his humble
follower; accordingly, after service in the afternoon, before
pronouncing the blessing, he said from the pulpit, "Whaur's the auld
wifie that followed me frae Whitburn?" "Here I'm, sir," uttered a shrill
voice from a back seat. "Aweel," said Mr. Brown, "I have fand ye a bed;
ye're to sleep wi' Johnnie Fife's lass."

There was at all times amongst the older Scottish peasantry a bold
assertion of their religious opinions, and strong expression of their
feelings. The spirit of the Covenanters lingered amongst the aged people
whom I remember, but which time has considerably softened down. We have
some recent authentic instances of this readiness in Scotsmen to bear
testimony to their principles:--

A friend has informed me that the late Lord Rutherfurd often told with
much interest of a rebuke which he received from a shepherd, near
Bonaly, amongst the Pentlands. He had entered into conversation with
him, and was complaining bitterly of the weather, which prevented him
enjoying his visit to the country, and said hastily and unguardedly,
"What a d--d mist!" and then expressed his wonder how or for what
purpose there should have been such a thing created as east wind. The
shepherd, a tall, grim figure, turned sharp round upon him. "What ails
ye at the mist, sir? it weets the sod, it slockens the yowes,
and"--adding with much solemnity--"it's God's wull;" and turned away
with lofty indignation. Lord Rutherfurd used to repeat this with much
candour as a fine specimen of a rebuke from a sincere and simple mind.

There was something very striking in the homely, quaint, and severe
expressions on religious subjects which marked the old-fashioned piety
of persons shadowed forth in Sir Walter