for a' this bonnie land we ca' oor ain the day. Canada's nae
sae guid for earls an' lairds, but it's graun' for puir honest fowk. An'
what's mair," continued Mrs. Gavin, "we didna hae the preachin' i' the
auld country we hae in Canada--leastwise, no' as graun' as we used to
hae i' the time o' Doctor Grant. Div ye ken, sir, the grandest thing I
ever heard come oot o' his mooth? No? Weel, it was this. He aye preach't
fearfu' lang, as ye've nae doot heard, an' at times the men fowk wad
weary an' gang oot, some to tak' a reek wi' their pipes an' mair to gang
ower the way an' hae a drap juist to liven the concludin' heids o' the
discoorse (for they aye steppit back); but the Doctor didna seem to
understaun'. Weel, ae day some o' them was stampin' doon the aisle, an'
the Doctor, he juist stoppit an' sat doon, an' then he says, 'Ma freens,
we'll bide a wee till the chaff blaws awa'.' Losh, hoo they drappit
whaur they stood! There was nae mair gaun oot that day, I tell ye, nor
mony a day. But mind ye, 'twas fearsome the time atween when he sat doon
in the pulpit an' when he speakit oot like I telt ye; it was clean
fearsome."

VII

"_The CHILD of The REGIMENT_"

My labours in St. Cuthbert's had covered but a few fleeting years (oh,
relentless ticking of the clock! at once the harbinger and the echo of
eternity), when there came into our lives life's greatest earthly joy.
Serene and peaceful our lives had been, every hour garlanded with love
and every year festooned by the Hand Unseen.

Trials and difficulties there had been indeed, but they were as billows
which carried in their secret bosom the greeting of the harbour and the
shore. Even the roots of sorrow had been moistened by the far-off wells
of joy. To many a guest of God, disguised in the habiliments of gloom,
we had turned a frowning face and had bidden such begone. But such
guests heeded not, pressing relentlessly in upon our trembling hearth,
when lo! the passing days revealed their mission; we saw the face hidden
beneath the sombre hood, and prayed the new-discovered guest to abide
with us unto the end. For God loveth the masquerade, and doth use it
everywhere.

The way to hell appeareth glorious oftentimes, but the pathway unto life
is robed in shadows and its sign-post is the cross--which things are a
masquerade and to be witnessed every day; for in one single day all
God's great drama is rehearsed in miniature.

Our manse was a pleasant place, and i