d to the three following anecdotes of the
late Professor Gillespie of St. Andrews, than give them to my readers in
the words with which Dr. Lindsay Alexander kindly communicated them
to me.

"In the _Cornhill Magazine_ for March 1860, in an article on Student
Life in Scotland, there is an anecdote of the late Professor Gillespie
of St. Andrews, which is told in such a way as to miss the point and
humour of the story. The correct version, as I have heard it from the
professor himself, is this: Having employed the village carpenter to put
a frame round a dial at the manse of Cults, where he was a minister, he
received from the man a bill to the following effect:--'To fencing the
_deil_, 5s. 6d.' 'When I paid him,' said the professor, 'I could not
help saying, John, this is rather more than I counted on; but I haven't
a word to say. I get somewhere about two hundred a year for fencing the
_deil_, and I'm afraid I don't do it half so effectually as
you've done.'"

"Whilst I am writing, another of the many stories of the learned and
facetious professor rises in my mind. There was a worthy old woman at
Cults whose place in church was what is commonly called the Lateran; a
kind of small gallery at the top of the pulpit steps. She was a most
regular attender, but as regularly fell asleep during sermon, of which
fault the preacher had sometimes audible intimation. It was observed,
however, that though Janet always slept during her own pastor's
discourse, she could be attentive enough when she pleased, and
especially was she alert when some young preacher occupied the pulpit. A
little piqued, perhaps, at this, Mr. Gillespie said to her one day,
'Janet, I think you hardly behave very respectfully to your own minister
in one respect.' 'Me, sir!' exclaimed Janet, 'I wad like to see ony man,
no tae say woman, by yoursell, say that o' me! what can you mean, sir?'
'Weel, Janet, ye ken when I preach you're almost always fast asleep
before I've well given out my text; but when any of these young men from
St. Andrews preach for me, I see you never sleep a wink. Now, that's
what I call no using me as you should do.' 'Hoot, sir,' was the reply,
'is that a'? I'll sune tell you the reason o' that. When you preach, we
a' ken the word o' God's safe in your hands; but when thae young birkies
tak it in haun, my certie, but it taks us a' to look after them[183].'

"I am tempted to subjoin another. In the Humanity Class, one day, a
youth who was