cile, patient, enduring of men; but that point
once passed, endurance ceases, and the all too gentle lamb starts up
an angry lion. The spirit is stirred that maddens at the sight of the
naked weapon, and that, in its headlong rush upon the enemy,
discipline can neither check nor control. Let our oppressed
Highlanders of Sutherland beware. They have suffered much; but, so far
as man is the agent, their battles can be fought on only the arena of
public opinion, and on that ground which the political field may be
soon found to furnish. Any explosion of violence on their part would
be ruin to both the Free Church and themselves.

CHAPTER VII.

How is the battle of religious freedom to be best fought in behalf of
the oppressed people of Sutherland? We shall attempt throwing out a
few simple suggestions on the subject, which, if in the right track,
the reader may find it easy to follow up and mature.

First, then, let us remember that in this country, in which
opinion is all-potent, and which for at least a century and a half
has been the envy of continental states for the degree of religious
freedom which it enjoys, the policy of the Duke of Sutherland
cannot be known without being condemned. The current which he opposes
has been scooping out its channel for ages. Every great mind
produced by Britain, from the times of Milton and Locke down to
the times of Mackintosh and of Chalmers, has been giving it impetus
in but one direction; and it is scarce likely that it will reverse
its course now, at the bidding of a few intolerant and narrow-minded
aristocrats. British opinion has but to be fairly appealed to, in
order to declare strongly in favour of the oppressed Highlanders of
Sutherland. What we would first remark, then, is, that the policy of
his Grace the Duke cannot be too widely exposed. The press and the
platform must be employed. The frank and generous English must be
told, that that law of religious toleration which did so much at a
comparatively early period to elevate the character of their country
in the eye of the world, and which, in these latter times, men have
been accustomed to regard as somewhat less, after all, than an
adequate embodiment of the rights of conscience, has been virtually
repealed in a populous and very extensive district of the British
empire, through a capricious exercise of power on the part of a
single man. Why, it has been asked, in a matter which lies between
God and conscience