s ye gaun to say?" asked Thomas, encouragingly.

But Annie did not reply. She looked perplexed. With the intuition of
sympathy springing from like thoughts, Thomas guessed what was moving
in her mind.

"I ken what ye're thinkin', lassie," he said. "Ye canna help thinkin'
that there's some in oor mids wha may as weel be nameless, for that
they are no credit to us, neyther wad be to ony body o' whuch they war
jined members. Isna that yer trouble, bairn?"

"'Deed is't, in pairt, Thomas. But it's mair the state o' my ain
feelin's wi' regaird to ane in particular, nor the fac' that he's a
member o' the kirk. Gin I cud be sure that Mr Bruce wad aye be at the
ither en' o' the seat, I micht think o' 't. It's no that I wadna lat
him tak it. I daurna meddle wi' that. But gin I had to tak' it frae his
han', I jist cudna regaird it as the sacred thing that it bude to be
considered."

Thomas remained silent, with downcast thoughtful look.

It may be necessary to state, in explanation of Annie's feelings, that
the Scotch, at the celebration of the Eucharist, sit in long rows, and
pass the bread, each breaking off a portion for himself, and the wine,
from the one to the other.

The compressed lips and motionless countenance of Thomas showed that he
was thinking more than he was prepared to clothe in words. After
standing thus for a few moments, he lifted his head, and returning no
answer to Annie's exposition of her feelings, bade her _good-bye_, and
walked away.

The drift of Thomas's reflections I shall now help my reader to see.

Their appetite for prophecy having assuaged with the assuaging flood,
the people of Glamerton had no capacity for excitement left. The
consequence was that the congregations, especially the evening
congregations, began at once to diminish. Having once ceased to feel
anxiety about some vague impending vengeance, comparatively few chose
to be rated any longer about their sins; while some seeing how in the
_spate_ the righteous were taken and the wicked left, felt themselves
aggrieved, and staid at home on the Sunday nights. Nor was the
deterioration confined to the congregations. Not only had the novelty
of Mr Turnbull's style worn off, but he felt himself that he could not
preach with the same fervour as before; the fact being that he had
exhausted the electric region of the spiritual brain, and without
repose it could never fulminate again. A second and worse consequence
was that, in his dissatis