en out on the moor without
Hairy observing it. Of course, they went back, and, picking him up,
brought him safe home. A neighbouring laird having called a few days
after, and having referred to the accident, Balnamoon quietly added,
"Indeed, I maun hae a lume[162] that'll _haud in_."

The laird of Balnamoon was a truly eccentric character. He joined with
his drinking propensities a great zeal for the Episcopal church, the
service of which he read to his own family with much solemnity and
earnestness of manner. Two gentlemen, one of them a stranger to the
country, having called pretty early one Sunday morning, Balnamoon
invited them to dinner, and as they accepted the invitation, they
remained and joined in the forenoon devotional exercises conducted by
Balnamoon himself. The stranger was much impressed with the laird's
performance of the service, and during a walk which they took before
dinner, mentioned to his friend how highly he esteemed the religious
deportment of their host. The gentleman said nothing, but smiled to
himself at the scene which he anticipated was to follow. After dinner,
Balnamoon set himself, according to the custom of old hospitable
Scottish hosts, to make his guests as drunk as possible. The result was,
that the party spent the evening in a riotous debauch, and were carried
to bed by the servants at a late hour. Next day, when they had taken
leave and left the house, the gentleman who had introduced his friend
asked him what he thought of their entertainer--"Why, really," he
replied, with evident astonishment, "sic a speat o' praying, and sic a
speat o' drinking, I never knew in the whole course o' my life."

Lady Dalhousie, mother, I mean, of the late distinguished Marquis of
Dalhousie, used to tell a characteristic anecdote of her day. But here,
on mention of the name Christian, Countess of Dalhousie, may I pause a
moment to recall the memory of one who was a very remarkable person. She
was for many years, to me and mine, a sincere, and true and valuable
friend. By an awful dispensation of God's providence her death happened
_instantaneously_ under my roof in 1839. Lady Dalhousie was eminently
distinguished for a fund of the most varied knowledge, for a clear and
powerful judgment, for acute observation, a kind heart, a brilliant wit.
Her story was thus:--A Scottish judge, somewhat in the predicament of
the Laird of Balnamoon, had dined at Coalstoun with her father Charles
Brown, an advocate, a