them. [Note 5].

As we were coming away, we came upon our friends from Monksburn, whom we
had not seen before.

"This is preaching!" said Annas, as she clasped our hands.

"Eh, puir laddie, he'll just wear himself out," said the Laird. "I hope
he has a gude wife, for sic men are rare, and they should be well taken
care of while they are here."

"He has a wife, Sir," observed Angus, "and the men of his own kidney
think he would be rather better off if he had none."

"Hoots, but I'm sorry to hear it," said the Laird. "What ails her, ken
ye, laddie?"

"As I understood, Sir, she had three grave drawbacks. In the first
place, she is a widow with a rich jointure."

"That's a queer thing to call a drawback!" said the Laird.

"In the second place, she is a widow with a temper, and a good deal of
it."

"Dinna name it!" cried the Laird, lifting up his hands. "Dinna name it!
Eh, puir laddie, but I'm wae for him, gin he's fashed wi' ane o' that
sort."

"And in the third place," continued Angus, "I have been told that he may
well preach against worldly-mindedness, for he gets enough of it at
home. Mrs Whitefield knows what are trumps, considerably better than
she knows where to look in the Bible for her husband's text."

"Dear, dear!" cried Lady Monksburn in her soft voice. "What could the
good man be thinking of, to bind such a burden as that upon his life?"

"He thought he had converted her, I believe," said Angus, "but she came
undone."

"I should think," remarked Mr Keith, "that he acted as Joshua did with
the Gibeonites."

"How was that?" said Angus.

"It won't hurt you to look for it," was the answer.

I don't know whether Angus looked for it, but I did as soon as I got in,
and I saw that Mr Keith thought there had been too much hastiness, and
perhaps a little worldly-mindedness in Mr Whitefield himself. That may
be why he preaches so earnestly against it. We know so well where the
slippery places are, when we have been down ourselves. And when we have
been down once, we are generally very, very careful to keep off that
slide for the future.

Mr Whitefield said last night that it was not true to say, as some do,
"that a man may be in Christ to-day, and go to the Devil to-morrow."
Then if anybody is converted, how can he, as Angus said, "come undone"?
I only see one explanation, and it is rather a terrible one: namely,
that the conversion was not real, but only looked like it. And I am
afraid