t he frequently or habitually
attended theatrical representations. It is so understood. I had
opportunities of conversing with the late Mr. Murray of the Theatre
Royal, Edinburgh, and with Mr. Charles Kean, on the subject. Both
admitted the fact, and certainly if any men of the profession _could_
have removed the feeling from the public mind, these were the men to
have done it.
There is a phase of religious observances which has undergone a great
change amongst us within fifty years--I mean the services and
circumstances connected with the administration of the Holy Communion.
When these occurred in a parish they were called "occasions," and the
great interest excited by these sacramental solemnities may be gathered
from "Peter's Letters," "The Annals of the Parish," and Burns' "Holy
Fair." Such ceremonials are now conducted, I believe, just as the
ordinary church services. Some years back they were considered a sort of
preaching matches. Ministers vied with each other in order to bear away
the bell in popularity, and hearers embraced the opportunity of
exhibiting to one another their powers of criticism on what they heard
and saw. In the parish of Urr in Galloway, on one sacramental occasion,
some of the assistants invited were eminent ministers in Edinburgh; Dr.
Scot of St. Michael's, Dumfries, was the only local one who was asked,
and he was, in his own sphere, very popular as a preacher. A brother
clergyman, complimenting him upon the honour of being so invited, the
old bald-headed divine modestly replied, "Gude bless you, man, what can
I do? They are a' han' wailed[25] this time; I need never show face
among them." "Ye're quite mista'en," was the soothing encouragement;
"tak' your _Resurrection_ (a well-known sermon used for such occasions
by him), an I'll lay my lug ye'll beat every clute o' them." The Doctor
did as suggested, and exerted himself to the utmost, and it appears he
did not exert himself in vain. A batch of old women, on their way home
after the conclusion of the services, were overheard discussing the
merits of the several preachers who had that day addressed them from the
tent. "Leeze me abune them a'," said one of the company, who had waxed
warm in the discussion, "for yon auld clear-headed (bald) man, that
said, 'Raphael sings an' Gabriel strikes his goolden harp, an' a' the
angels clap their wings wi' joy.' O but it was gran', it just put me in
min' o' our geese at Dunjarg when they turn their n
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