ead of a venerable elder,
lending sanctity to his office by reason of his age, such as we see in
the effectual institutions of our own national church--the door was kept
by a young man, much more like a writer's whipper-snapper-clerk, than one
qualified to fill that station, which good King David would have
preferred to dwelling in tents of sin. However, we were not come to spy
the nakedness of the land, so we went up the outside stairs, and I asked
at him for the plate; "Plate!" says he; "why, it's on the altar!" I
should have known this--the custom of old being to lay the offerings on
the altar, but I had forgot; such is the force, you see, of habit, that
the Church of England is not so well reformed and purged as ours is from
the abominations of the leaven of idolatry. We were then stepping
forward, when he said to me, as sharply as if I was going to take an
advantage, "You must pay here." "Very well, wherever it is customary,"
said I, in a meek manner, and gave him the guinea. Mrs. Pringle did the
same. "I cannot give you change," cried he, with as little decorum as if
we had been paying at a playhouse. "It makes no odds," said I; "keep it
all." Whereupon he was so converted by the mammon of iniquity, that he
could not be civil enough, he thought--but conducted us in, and showed us
the marble monuments, and the French colours that were taken in the war,
till the time of worship--nothing could surpass his discretion.

At last the organ began to sound, and we went into the place of worship;
but oh, Mr. Micklewham, yon is a thin kirk. There was not a hearer forby
Mrs. Pringle and me, saving and excepting the relics of popery that
assisted at the service. What was said, I must, however, in verity
confess, was not far from the point. But it's still a comfort to see
that prelatical usurpations are on the downfall; no wonder that there is
no broad at the door to receive the collection for the poor, when no
congregation entereth in. You may, therefore, tell Mr. Craig, and it
will gladden his heart to hear the tidings, that the great Babylonian
madam is now, indeed, but a very little cutty.

On our return home to our lodgings, we found Andrew Pringle, my son, and
Rachel, in great consternation about our absence. When we told them that
we had been at worship, I saw they were both deeply affected; and I was
pleased with my children, the more so, as you know I have had my doubts
that Andrew Pringle's principles hav