On his return to Berwick his congregation usually expected him to give them a lecture on what he had seen, and the MSS. of several of these lectures, abounding in graphic description and in shrewd and often humorous observation of men and things, have been preserved.  It must suffice here to give an extract from one of them on a tour in the West of Ireland in 1864, illustrating as it does a curious phase of Irish social life at that time.  Dr. Cairns and a small party of friends had embarked in a little steamer on one of the Irish lakes, and were taking note of the gentlemen’s seats, varied with occasional ruins, which were coming in view on both sides.

“A fine ancient castle,” he goes on to say, “surrounded by trees and almost overhanging the lough, attracted our gaze for some time ere we passed it.  The owner’s name and character were naturally brought under review.  ‘Is not Sir ——­ a Sunday man?’ says one of the company to another.  ‘He is.’  The distinction was new to me, and I inferred something good, perhaps some unusual zeal for Sabbath observance or similar virtue.  But, alas! for the vanity of human judgments.  A ‘Sunday man’ in the West of Ireland is one who only appears on the Sunday outside his own dwelling, because on any other day he would be arrested for debt.  Even on a week day he is safe if he keeps to his own house, where in Ireland, as in England, no writ can force its way.  Sir ——­ was also invulnerable while sitting on the grand jury, where quite lately he had protracted the business to an inordinate length in order to extend his own liberty.  As the boat passed close beside his castle, a handsome elderly gentleman appeared at an open window, and with hat in hand and a charming smile on his face made us a most profound and graceful salutation.  We could not be insensible to so much courtesy—­since it was Sir ——­ himself who thus welcomed us; but as we waved our hats in reply, one of our party, who had actually a writ out against the fine old Irish gentleman at the very time, with very little prospect of execution, muttered something between his teeth and pressed his hat firmer down on his head than usual.  Such landlordism is still not uncommon.  The same friend is familiar with writs against other gentlemen whose house is their castle, and to whom Sunday is ‘the light of the week.’”

The closing period of Dr. Cairns’s ministry at Berwick was made memorable by a remarkable religious revival in the town.  Following on a brief visit in January 1874 from Messrs. Moody and Sankey, who had then just closed their first mission in Edinburgh, a movement began which lasted nearly two years.  With some help from outside it was carried on during that time mostly by the ministers of the town, assisted by laymen from the various churches, among whom Dr. Maclagan occupied a foremost place.  Dr. Cairns threw himself into this movement with ardour, and although he did not intend it, and probably was not aware of it, he was its real leader, giving it at once