they used to call dissenters in the early days of New England. I

have not yet had time to study the question, but as I lack all
knowledge of the other two branches of Presbyterianism, I am enabled

to say unhesitatingly that I belong to the Free Kirk. To begin
with, the very word `free' has a fascination for the citizen of a

republic; and then my theological training was begun this morning by
a gifted young minister of Edinburgh whom we call the Friar, because

the first time we saw him in his gown and bands (the little spot of
sheer whiteness beneath the chin, that lends such added spirituality

to a spiritual face) we fancied that he looked like some pale
brother of the Church in the olden time. His pallor, in a land of

rosy redness and milky whiteness; his smooth, fair hair, which in
the light from the stained-glass window above the pulpit looked

reddish gold; the Southern heat of passionateconviction that
coloured his slow Northern speech; the remoteness of his

personality; the weariness of his deep-set eyes, that bespoke such
fastings and vigils as he probably never practised,--all this led to

our choice of the name.
As we walked toward St. Andrew's Church and Tanfield Hall, where he

insisted on taking me to get the `proper historical" target="_blank" title="a.历史(上)的">historical background,' he
told me about the great Disruption movement. He was extremely

eloquent,--so eloquent that the image of Willie Beresford tottered
continually on its throne, and I found not the slightest difficulty

in giving an unswerving allegiance to the principles presented by
such an orator.

We went first to St. Andrew's, where the General Assembly met in
1843, and where the famous exodus of the Free Protesting Church took

place,--one of the most important events in the modern history of
the United Kingdom.

The movement was promoted by the great Dr. Chalmers and his party,
mainly to abolish the patronage of livings, then in the hands of

certain heritors or patrons, who might appoint any minister they
wished, without consulting the congregation. Needless to say, as a

free-born American citizen, and never having had a heritor in the
family, my blood easily boiled at the recital of such tyranny. In

1834 the Church had passed a law of its own, it seems, ordaining
that no presentee to a parish should be admitted, if opposed by the

majority of the male communicants. That would have been well enough
could the State have been made to agree, though I should have gone

further, personally, and allowed the female communicants to have
some voice in the matter.

The Friar took me into a particularly chillyhistoric corner, and,
leaning against a damp stone pillar, painted the scene in St.

Andrew's when the Assembly met in the presence of a great body of
spectators, while a vast throng gathered without, breathlessly

awaiting the result. No one believed that any large number of
ministers would relinquish livings and stipends and cast their bread

upon the waters for what many thought a `fantastic principle.' Yet
when the Moderator left his place, after reading a formal protest

signed by one hundred and twenty ministers and seventy-two elders,
he was followed first by Dr. Chalmers, and then by four hundred and

seventy men, who marched in a body to Tanfield Hall, where they
formed themselves into the General Assembly of the Free Church of

Scotland. When Lord Jeffrey was told of it an hour later, he
exclaimed, `Thank God for Scotland! there is not another country on

earth where such a deed could be done!' And the Friar reminded me
proudly of Macaulay's saying that the Scots had made sacrifices for

the sake of religious opinion for which there was no parallel in the
annals of England. On the next Sunday after these remarkable scenes

in Edinburgh there were heart-breaking farewells, so the Friar said,
in many village parishes, when the minister, in dismissing his

congregation, told them that he had ceased to belong to the
Established Church and would neither preach nor pray in that pulpit

again; that he had joined the Free Protesting Church of Scotland,
and, God willing, would speak the next Sabbath morning at the manse

door to as many as cared to follow him. "What affecting leave-
takings there must have been!" the Friar exclaimed. "When my

grandfather left his church that May morning, only fifteen members
remained behind, and he could hear the more courageous say to the

timid ones, `Tak' your Bible and come awa', mon!' Was not all this
a splendid testimony to the power of principle and the sacred

demands of conscience?" I said "Yea" most heartily, for the spirit
of Jenny Geddes stirred within me that morning, and under the spell

of the Friar's kindling eye and eloquent voice I positively gloried
in the valiant achievements of the Free Church. It would always be

easier for a woman to say, "Yea" than "Nay" to the Friar. When he
left me in Breadalbane Terrace I was at heart a member of his

congregation in good (and irregular) standing, ready to teach in his
Sunday-school, sing in his choir, visit his aged and sick poor, and

especially to stand between him and a too admiring feminine
constituency.

When I entered the drawing-room, I found that Salemina had just
enjoyed an hour's conversation with the ex-Moderator of the opposite

church wing.
"Oh, my dear," she sighed, "you have missed such a treat! You have

no conception of these Scottish ministers of the Establishment,--
such culture, such courtliness of manner, such scholarship, such

spirituality, such wise benignity of opinion! I asked the doctor to
explain the Disruption movement to me, and he was most interesting

and lucid, and most affecting, too, when he described the
misunderstandings and misconceptions that the Church suffered in

those terrible days of 1843, when its very life-blood, as well as
its integrity and unity, were threatened by the foes in its own

household; when breaches of faith and trust occurred on all sides,
and dissents and disloyalties shook it to its very foundation! You

see, Penelope, I have never fully understood the disagreements about
heritors and livings and state control before, but here is the whole

matter in a nut-sh--"
"My dear Salemina," I interposed, with dignity, "you will pardon me,

I am sure, when I tell you that any discussion on this point would
be intenselypainful to me, as I now belong to the Free Kirk."

"Where have you been this morning?" she asked, with a piercing
glance.

"To St. Andrew's and Tanfield Hall."
"With whom?"

"With the Friar."
"I see! Happy the missionary to whom you incline your ear, FIRST!"-

-which I thought rather inconsistent of Salemina, as she had been
converted by precisely the same methods and in precisely the same

length of time as had I, the only difference being in the ages of
our respective missionaries, one being about five-and-thirty, and

other five-and-sixty. Even this is to my credit after all, for if
one can be persuaded so quickly and fully by a young and

comparatively inexperienced man, it shows that one must be extremely
susceptible to spiritual influences or--something.

Chapter IX. Omnia presbyteria est divisa in partes tres.
Religion in Edinburgh is a theory, a convention, a fashion (both

humble and aristocratic), a sensation, an intellectualconviction,
an emotion, a dissipation, a sweet habit of the blood; in fact, it

is, it seems to me, every sort of thing it can be to the human
spirit.

When we had finished our church toilettes, and came into the
drawing-room, on the first Sunday morning, I remember that we found

Francesca at the window.
"There is a battle, murder, or sudden death going on in the square

below," she said. "I am going to ask Susanna to ask Mrs. M'Collop
what it means. Never have I seen such a crowd moving peacefully,

with no excitement or confusion, in one direction. Where can the
people be going? Do you suppose it is a fire? Why, I believe . . .

it cannot be possible . . . yes, they certainly are disappearing in
that big church on the corner; and millions, simply millions and

trillions, are coming in the other direction,--toward St. Knox's."
Impressive as was this morning church-going, a still greater

surprise awaited us at seven o'clock in the evening, when the crowd
blocked the streets on two sides of a church near Breadalbane