sunny knoll, at the end of his dwelling, airing one of the "Pious Remnants" flags which had been captured by General Dalzell. It had remained unheeded many years among the General's descendants; found its way, I know not how, into the hands of an innkeper, and under this ancient and honou able banner mine host was found retailing spirits to the wondering rustics at the shooting for the Dumfries silver gun. It was instantly purchased, and deposited in the hands of the pastor, by whom it was annually submitted to an airing, and the examination of the chosen, as I have described. The preacher who succeeded John Curtis, was Mr James Thomson; he was remaikable for a rapid delivery, I cannot say of very elegant sentences-and the "tone" seemed a serious impediment in his way. I heard him preach the introductory, or, as the Cameronians more properly call it, the "Action Sermon" to a sacrament, and I endured him for four weary hours. He was singularly mysterious and controversial. He was, however, a favourite with the flock, and might have been esteemed, at his death, worthy of ranking with some of the renowned leaders of the covenant. But by deep meditation it was his destiny to discover, that Scripture warranted belief in a place of lesser punishment than hell; and though he backed it by quotations, it came on his flock with a clap and a cry which the charge of General Dalzell's dragoons would have failed to excite. They looked on it as a supplemental purgatory-or as one of the Cameronians said, "it was setting up a chamber for wantonness in the pit," or "drawing," said another, "a stake and ryse dyke through the everlasting lake." Death stept in and arrested the preacher's discoveries, and closed the clamour of his flock.

The chief revolution in the affairs of the Cameronians of Dumfries-shire was affected at the death of John Curtis. They had been driven by persecution to preach on the mountains, and though persecution had ceased, on the mountains they remained. Now, it was certainly a beautiful and impressive sight to see a congregation worshipping God on a mountain side or a wild glen; to see the upright pulpitrows of bared, and white, and bald heads decently ranged around-and more extended ranks of beautiful wo

"

men and active men drawn up in a regular confusion-the whole listening to the eloquence of my old friend Farely. This, with a clear day and a bright sun; must make an impression of devotion on the most obtuse intellect. But as the mason said of the wise men who sung, "Snow is beautiful in its season,' "My certes," said he, "it was easy for him, with his lasses and his wine, to sing so, had he been a poor freestone mason, he would have sung another sang." For the weather seemed sometimes to inherit the rancour of the bloody Claverhouse, or the renowned chieftain of Lagg, to this persecuted race; and, instead of June giving one of her brightest and balmiest days for the Sacrament, I have witnessed the heavy rain come down sans intermission for four stricken hours, as if ambitious to measure its mercies by the length of the "Action Sermon." By some this circumstance was hailed as a divine acknowledgement of their presence and influence; and after some very dry weather I have heard Mr Farley turn a timely thunder shower to good account, by apostrophizing the Deity for his kindness to" this dry barren land." On another occasion-the morning was serene during the introductory discourse, and just as my friend Farley began to administer the sacrament, a huge black cloud sailed from the westward, and hung heavy and ominous over the congregation. Ere the ladies could raise their plaids, it descended perpendicular plump down, and the huge drops splashed off the bald crown of the preacher, in a manner that Kemble would have envied in acting King Lear. A Cameronian with an umbrella, at that time an unusual thing in the country, arose and stretched it over the Professor's head, regardless of himself. At this visible interposition between him and hea ven, the preacher was wroth, and said audibly, "Take the Pope's cap off me," and his conduct was highly ap plauded.

To such a congregation, after the decease of John Curtis, my friend of the umbrella made a proposition to have a chapel erected. And I question much if a proposal to go to mass would have excited a stronger commotionparticularly among those whom the measure meant to protect-the old and infirm.

He of the umbrella offered

to subscribe largely himself, and promote the subscription among others, hinting that many of the members of the kirk favoured the cause, and would be glad of an opportunity to display it. The motion was well timed too, namely, at the close of one of those fourhours benedictions from a thunder cloud, which had urged its way through the broad bonnets and thick plaids of the most obstinate believers. I cannot enumerate to you all the bitter and brief exclamations of dismay and indignation which this proposal excited. The decided wrath of one old moorland dame I shall long remember, "Foul fall ye," said she, starting up and hurling her heavy clasped black print Bible at the proposer's head, "foul fall ye, ye deserve to be brained with the word ye hae abused;" and had he of the umbrella not caught this religious missile, as the Curtal fryar's dogs caught the outlaw's arrows, namely, as it flew, he might have been numbered with the martyrs. "Shall we," said she, "who were hounded like deer to the mountains, there to worship God in fear of evil men, shall we, whom he marvellously protected there, doubt his providence, and descend to keep yer coupled timber-yer covered cushions and yer canopied, fringed, and painted prelatical pulpits—and yer walls of hewn stane-far frae me-fit places are they, not for the word, but for ye ken what;"-and so she sat down. The more sensible part reflecting, however, that the showers of spring were cold-that the winds of autumn were not always gentle--and that winter indulged them with various and dubious blessings, under the semblance of snows and sleets, and sudden thaws, resolved, that the erection of a house of worship was a justifiable measure; and a house was accordingly built. But the eloquent dame of the moorlands introduced a salvo, by which the sacrament was directed to be administered in the open air, and so it still continues. Many of the opulent and sympathizing members of the established kirk contributed largely to the expense, after warm and ineffectual remonstrances from the aforenamed lady.

The religious festival of the sacrament is commenced after due private preparation by prayers of unwonted length, and the lonely broomy hollow where it is held exhibits on Sabbath

morn to a stranger a grand and solemn spectacle.

The last time I was present at this meeting I was invited to breakfast at the house of a respectable and recently converted member of the "Broken Remnant," a warm-hearted weaver, a man of rare conversation-ready wit, and cutting dry sarcasm. He was also as much celebrated for his poetry as the unrivalled productions of his loom. His birds-eye, his barley-pickle, his lowland plaiden, and fine linen, were the theme of praise among the young maids in danger of being married-and to their praise I add mine. I have proved his hospitality, and proved the labours of his loom. I sat down to an ample breakfast with this Cameronian worthy-his wife lively always, and once handsome-his two sons inherit→ ing their father's powers even to overflowing, and a solemn browed Cameronian from the borders of the moor lands. This family auxiliary undertook to pronounce a blessing on our good cheer; a serious trial of my patience and appetite. I endured his sermon for many minutes; it was in its nature controversial. He touched on the adventure at Drumclog, and addressed Providence in strong and familar terms anent the disaster at Bothwell Brig. I looked piteous but resigned, and the goodwife poured forth the tea. But then there came headings and hangings, and finings and confinings, and sad travels and sore tortures. The goodwife placed a plate of smoking and savoury cake before him, but he was not to be tempted; she threw a passing curse or two on patronage, still he was distant from our day half a century at least: I looked with an imploring eye, and my entertainer closed his, but I could see by the sarcastic curl at the corners of his mouth that he was inwardly enjoying my misery. Once I stretched my hand, for I had half a mind, like the renowned and impatient goodman of Drumbreg, on a time of similar trial, to seize my cup with a cry of" ye have done brawly man," and cut short all explanation by falling to. I endured it to an end however, and an excellent breakfast, which would have extracted praise from Sir William Curtis, the potent king of good cheer, enabled me to endure the infliction of a "return thanks," eminently curious and controversial. We then sallied

forth to the preaching-the pastor had already commenced; it might be half past nine o'clock. I was struck with the magnitude and repose of the congregation. Besides the sodded seats which held the oldest and most respectable members, the broom then, I think, in full bloom, with all its perfume about it, was bent down for many acres to form rural seats to Cameronian dames, and dames indeed of all persuasions. There were many dressed in the latest fashion; the old simple mode of dress however prevailed. Though all shewed deep symptoms of devotion, and many of awe, the young women by no means confined their eyes, and many had bright ones, to the contemplation of the preacher. This festival always attracts an immense multitude, and though the Cameronians are the only communicants, all sects and denominations of Presbyterians crowd to the place and occupy the vacant ground. I saw many of the Cameronians with whom I had a personal acquaintance, and a silent squeeze of the hand, or an acknowledgment, an austere one, of the eye was all the recognition to be obtained. The list of offences and sects excluded from communication is extensive and curious they call it "debarring"-Socinians, Arminians, Unitarians, Episcopalians, false teachers, promiscuous dancers, and playhouse frequenters. I cannot inflict the whole of this tremendous catalogue upon you. One prudent and warning exclusion I cannot omit to mention, namely, that of all wives who disobey their husbands.

In the green hedge-row lane, leading to the tent of the preacher, various stalls were established by persons who thought as godliness was great gain, great gain was godliness. Here refreshments of all kinds, particularly liquid consolation, abounded, and one tent, rivalling in dimensions the tabernacle of the preacher, looked presumptuously down from the very crest of the hill on its more devout neighbour below. Here the owner of a neighbouring public house had established himself, and into this canvass mansion in a moment of weakness I was tempted to enter. I had sundry reasons for this piece of backsliding;first, I had become wearied with the unexampled length and tediousness of the before mentioned four hours sermon; secondly, I was desirous to par

take of either Ram-Jam, Mid-Row, or Pinkie, three denominations of ale, for which the landlord was become deservedly famous, and in the brewing of which, weak nerves, as well as a good head, had been doubtless consulted;-and, thirdly and lastly, a dark-eyed damsel from the mountains wished for my private opinion anent the sinfulness of dancing, and to instruct me in a near road over the hills to her father's house, which stood in a remote glen on the stream of Ae. While deeply employed in taking a chart of this desart path, I could not avoid remarking with what particular gravity all were drinking, and many getting drunk. Consolation had been poured forth in no stinted tide, for a huge wall of empty vessels flanked the entrance. The proprietor of this house of call for the thirsty, was a ruddy carroty-headed rustic, who had contrived to draw down his cheeks for the occasion in a manner unusually solemn. He sat apart busied, or apparently busied, with that chief of all sage books, the Young Man's Best Companion; while his daughter, as active a girl as ever chalked a score to a thirsty man, managed the business. But his mind had wandered into a long and studious calculation of the probable profit of his fermentations, and the Book, which was only put there as a decoy to the godly, was neglected. I contrived to withdraw it unperceived from before him, and for this feat I was rewarded by a grim smile from a broad bonneted son of Cameron, and a snuff from a Tuphorn with a silver lid. On returning to the meeting, the stars were beginning to glimmer amongst the thin mist of the summer evening, and I could see groupes, already at some distance, of the spectators retiring home. Far differently demeaned themselves the pious remuant. They crowded round their preacher's tent after the repose of a brief intermission, and I left them enjoying a mysterious lecture on Permission, Predestination, Free Grace, The Elect, and Effectual Calling.

I am now, and I say it with sorrow, far removed from the society of those exemplary and pious people; and I heard, I confess, with something of an old Cameronian spirit and regret, that a proposition has been made to remove the meeting House into the

neighbouring town of Dumfries. Of my old favourites, few I understand survive, and year after year lessens the number of those devout men who regularly passed my Father's window on the Sabbath morn. Mr Farley has long since been numbered with the blessed-and Jean Robson, a very singular and devout character, has also rested from her labour of instructing the youth of the Cameronians. She taught the writer of this imperfect account to read-the Bible, and the famed Prophecies of Alexander Peden.

She tore the leaf from the Bible which said, "James, by the Grace of God, Defender of the Faith," and denounced the name of Sunday as Popish, or what was worse, Prelatical, and caused us all to call it the Sabbath. She died 83 years old. She used to flog her scholars, and exclaim,-" Thou art an evil one--a worker of iniquity"-while the tawse and tongue kept time and told sharply.

The Cameronians make few converts-few people are fond of inflicting on themselves willingly the penance of controversial prayers, and interminable sermons. There is a falling off in the amount of the Flock. My friend, the weaver, became a convert from conviction. Another of the converts joined the cause in the decline of life, not without suspicion of discontent, because his gifts had been overlooked by the minister of the parish kirk, in a recent nomination of elders. He was fond of argument, and seemed not unwilling to admit the potent auxiliaries of sword and gun on behalf of the cause. On one occasion, he grew wroth with the ready wit of a neighbouring peasant, on the great litigated point of patronage and seizing the readiest weapon of his

wrath-a hazel hoop, for he was a cooper-exclaimed," Reviler-retire-else I'll make your head saft with this rung." On another time, he became exasperated at the irreverent termination of an epigram on a tippling blacksmith, which was attributed to Burns, who then resided within sight-at Elisland.

When sober man to judgment rise,
On the last day,
Go druken dog, lie still incog,
And dinna stir if ye be wise.

The honest Covenanter, after three days and three nights meditation, brought forth his expostulation with the mighty bard of Caledonia. It

commences thus

Robert Burns ye were nae wise
To gie to Rodds sic an advice.

It has lost all its attraction since the voice of its author is mute, for who can repeat it as he did-the pithy preliminary remarks on the great poet's morals-the short Cameronian cough-the melodious trail of the tongueand the frequent intrusion of explanatory notes, which the uninspired could not always distinguish from the poem itself, all these things are departed and passed away, and the verses sleep as quietly as the dust of the poet. Two other occasional converts scarcely deserve notice-one of them was saved from thorough conviction by the welltimed exaltation to a neighbouring precentership, and the other has returned to his seat in the kirk, since the dark-eyed daughter of an adjacent Cameronian gave her hand, and it was a white one, to one of the chosen who was laird of an acre of peat moss-and I have not heard of any other damsel of the covenant having caused him to relapse.

CIRCUMSTANCES have lately occurred which tempt us to say a few words more on the present brightening prospects of the Acted Drama in this country. At the time of writing our last Article, we could merely discern the distant opening of those prospects; but at present we have little hesitation in saying, that what we then anticipated only as a bare probability, is now

near at hand. In fact large theatres for the performance of the regular drama have had their day in this country, and are on the point of being entirely exploded. We have not space, nor is it necessary, to particularise the circumstances which have brought this about; with the results alone is the public concerned: but so confident are we as to the nature of those re

sults, that, if it were not that the métier of a prophet has fallen a good deal into disrepute of late years, in consequence of certain lamentable failures that it has experienced in the great world of politics, we should venture to stake the value of our pretensions to this faculty in the little world of theatricals, on the following prediction; viz. that, in less than two years from this time, the whole theatrical arrangements of the English metropolis will have assumed nearly the same aspect as to number, character, &c. as those of Paris. But, in order that our prediction may not be subject to the usual charge of vagueness, we will descend to particulars. We anticipate, then, that at the time of which we speak, the King's Theatre will remain, as heretofore, appropriated to the Italian opera, perhaps without ballets, on the plan of the Salle Luvois. Drury-Lane Theatre will be contracted to a moderate size, and the little theatre in the Haymarket re-built as a second to it, for the performance of what is (vaguely enough) called the legitimate drama exclusively, viz. tragedy, comedy, and farce. These two theatres will then exactly correspond with the Theatre Francois, and the second Theatre Francois (late the Odeon). Covent Garden Theatre, if it should not be remodelled to form a third with the above two, will retain its present form, and be converted into an establishment on a similar plan to that of the Académie Royale de Musique, for the encouragement of a grand national opera and ballet. But of the fulfilment of this part of our prediction we are less confident, and less anxious than of the rest; for the English are neither a singing nor a dancing people; nor do we wish them to become so. To match the delightful Feydeau we already have Mr Arnold's pleasant little theatre in the Strand; Mr Dibdin at the Surrey has been making near approaches to the fun, frolic, burlesque, and parody of the Variétés and Vaudeville; and the little Sans Pareil Theatre in the Strand has fallen into new hands, and from the list of its performers, &c. we judge that it means to tread in the same path. The theatre in Well-close Square is also being remodelled under the direction of Mr Rae; and this, with the Cobourg Theatre on the other side the water, will form establish

ments on the footing of the Porte St Martin, and the Gaieté and Ambigu. And lastly, Astley's, with some modifications, will probably remain the English Franconi's; and it cannot do better. Supposing all these arrangements to be completed, and we have little doubt that they shortly will be so, we shall then have no more theatres than Paris has, with a metropolis more than twice as large.

But there is one other grand point in which the English theatres must be assimilated to the French, before they can hope or deserve to enjoy the attraction and prosperity of their foreign rivals, viz. the moderate prices of admission to them. Upon what pretence can the English managers demand higher admission than the French? The French theatres are in every respect as commodious as our's; the first-rate actors are in every department equal to the English; and the second and third-rate infinitely superior-their costumes and decorations are faultless; they are inferior to us in no one particular, but that of scenery; and they fall short of the English in that, only because here it has been carried to an extravagant and useless pitch of expense and refinement-a circumstance, too, which has arisen merely from a secret consciousness that such enormous theatres were fit for nothing but the exhibition of panoramic pictures. On the French stage the scenery is quite perfect enough for all the purposes of the drama. Indeed, for our own parts, we have no doubt whatever that the absence of that pictury-looking glare and freshness which distinguishes the scenery at our theatres is a certain and positive advantage. And what are the prices of admission at the French theatres? They must surely be forgotten, or not generally known hereotherwise our own extravagant ones would never be tolerated. We will state, as near as we can remember, the prices of admission to the pit of the principal theatres in Paris. About two years ago, when Catalani had the management of the Italian Opera, she raised the price of the pit to about half-a-crown-and there was a kind of O. P. row in consequence! At the Académie Royale de Musique, which is conducted on a much more splendid and expensive scale, and where the accommodations for the audience are