candid. The General Assembly of the Church
of Scotland, "now in session," also--was it ever forgotten once? And
even the Prime Minister, "and those who sit in council with him," with
just a hint of extra commendation if it happened to be Mr Gladstone. The
minister of Knox Church, Elgin, Ontario, Canada, kept his eye on them
all. Remote as he was, and concerned with affairs of which they could
know little, his sphere of duty could never revolve too far westward to
embrace them, nor could his influence, under any circumstances, cease
to be at their disposal. It was noted by some that after Mr Drummond had
got his D.D. from an American University he also prayed occasionally
for the President of the neighbouring republic; but this was rebutted
by others, who pointed out that it happened only on the occurrence of
assassinations, and held it reasonable enough. The cavillers mostly
belonged to the congregation of St Andrew's, "Established"--a glum,
old-fashioned lot indeed--who now and then dropped in of a Sunday
evening to hear Mr Drummond preach. (There wasn't much to be said for
the preaching at St Andrew's.) The Established folk went on calling the
minister of Knox Church "Mr" Drummond long after he was "Doctor" to his
own congregation, on account of what they chose to consider the dubious
source of the dignity; but the Knox Church people had their own theory
to explain this hypercriticism, and would promptly turn the conversation
to the merits of the sermon.

Twenty-five years it was, in point, this Monday morning when the
Doctor--not being Established we need not hesitate, besides by this time
nobody did--stood with Mr Murchison in the store door and talked about
having seen changes. He had preached his anniversary sermon the night
before to a full church when, laying his hand upon his people's
heart, he had himself to repress tears. He was aware of another
strand completed in their mutual bond: the sermon had been a moral,
an emotional, and an oratorical success; and in the expansion of the
following morning Dr Drummond had remembered that he had promised his
housekeeper a new gas cooking-range, and that it was high time he should
drop into Murchison's to inquire about it. Mrs Forsyth had mentioned at
breakfast that they had ranges with exactly the improvement she wanted
at Thompson's, but the minister was deaf to the hint. Thompson was a
Congregationalist and, improvement or no improvement, it wasn't likely
that Dr Dru