affections of the people of Scotland, although the
feeling was by no means general, or in equal degrees; and it so
happened that this married couple felt completely at variance on the
subject. Granting it to have been so, one would have thought that the
laird, owing to his retiring situation, would have been the one that
inclined to the stern doctrines of the reformers; and that the young
and gay dame from the city would have adhered to the free principles
cherished by the court party, and indulged in rather to extremity, in
opposition to their severe and carping contemporaries.

The contrary, however, happened to be the case. The laird was what his
country neighbours called "a droll, careless chap", with a very limited
proportion of the fear of God in his heart, and very nearly as little
of the fear of man. The laird had not intentionally wronged or offended
either of the parties, and perceived not the necessity of deprecating
their vengeance. He had hitherto believed that he was living in most
cordial terms with the greater part of the inhabitants of the earth,
and with the powers above in particular: but woe be unto him if he was
not soon convinced of the fallacy of such damning security! for his
lady was the most severe and gloomy of all bigots to the principles of
the Reformation. Hers were not the tenets of the great reformers, but
theirs mightily overstrained and deformed. Theirs was an unguent hard
to be swallowed; but hers was that unguent embittered and overheated
until nature could not longer bear it. She had imbibed her ideas from
the doctrines of one flaming predestinarian divine alone; and these
were so rigid that they became a stumbling block to many of his
brethren, and a mighty handle for the enemies of his party to turn the
machine of the state against them.

The wedding festivities at Dalcastle partook of all the gaiety, not of
that stern age, but of one previous to it. There was feasting, dancing,
piping, and singing: the liquors were handed, around in great fulness,
the ale in large wooden bickers, and the brandy in capacious horns of
oxen. The laird gave full scope to his homely glee. He danced--he
snapped his fingers to the music--clapped his hands and shouted at the
turn of the tune. He saluted every girl in the hall whose appearance
was anything tolerable, and requested of their sweethearts to take the
same freedom with his bride, by way of retaliation. But there she sat
at the head of the hal