his
body.'

'Ah,' said the pedlar, 'I have seen your land about Mauchlin--a fertile
spot! your lines have fallen in pleasant places!--And siccan a breed o'
cattle is not in ony laird's land in Scotland.'

'Ye say right,--ye say right, friend,' retorted Gilfillan eagerly, for
he was not inaccessible to flattery upon this subject,--'ye say right;
they are the real Lancashire, and there's no the like o' them even at
the Mains of Kilmaurs;' and he then entered into a discussion of their
excellences, to which our readers will probably be as indifferent as
our hero. After this excursion, the leader returned to his theological
discussions, while the pedlar, less profound upon those mystic points,
contented himself with groaning, and expressing his edification at
suitable intervals.

'What a blessing it would be to the puir blinded popish nations among
whom I hae sojourned, to have siccan a light to their paths! I hae been
as far as Muscovia in my sma' trading way, as a travelling merchant;
and I hae been through France, and the Low Countries, and a' Poland, and
maist feck o' Germany; and oh! it would grieve your honour's soul to see
the murmuring, and the singing, and massing, that's in the kirk, and the
piping that's in the quire, and the heathenish dancing and dicing upon
the Sabbath!'

This set Gilfillan off upon the Book of Sports and the Covenant, and
the Engagers, and the Protesters, and the Whiggamore's Raid, and
the Assembly of Divines at Westminster, and the Longer and Shorter
Catechism, and the Excommunication at Torwood, and the slaughter of
Archbishop Sharp. This last topic, again, led him into the lawfulness of
defensive arms, on which subject he uttered much more sense than could
have been expected from some other parts of his harangue, and attracted
even Waverley's attention, who had hitherto been lost in his own sad
reflections. Mr. Gilfillan then considered the lawfulness of a private
man's standing forth as the avenger of public oppression, and as he was
labouring with great earnestness the cause of Mas James Mitchell, who
fired at the Archbishop of St. Andrews some years before the prelate's
assassination on Magus Muir, an incident occurred which interrupted his
harangue.

The rays of the sun were lingering on the very verge of the horizon, as
the party ascended a hollow and somewhat steep path, which led to the
summit of a rising ground. The country was unenclosed, being part of a
very extensive hea