had our ain ploughing forrit[181].”  “That may be; but why were you not higher in the prize-list?  I’m ashamed of you, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself for being so far behind.”  John’s patience had given way, and, in his haste he burst forth, “Indeed, I’m thinking, sir, that if ye were at a preaching match, and five-and-thirty in the field, ye wadna come in for onything, let a-be for a fift’.”

Stories of humorous encounters between ministers and their hearers are numerous, and though often seasoned with dry and caustic humour, they never indicate appearance of bitterness or ill-feeling between the parties.  As an example, a clergyman thought his people were making rather an unconscionable objection to his using a MS. in delivering his sermon.  They urged, “What gars ye tak up your bit papers to the pu’pit?” He replied that it was best, for really he could not remember his sermon, and must have his papers.  “Weel, weel, minister, then dinna expect that we can remember them.”

Some of these encounters arise out of the old question of sleeping in church.  For example—­“I see, James, that you tak a bit nap in the kirk,” said a minister to one of his people; “can ye no tak a mull with you? and when you become heavy an extra pinch would keep you up.”  “Maybe it wad,” said James, “but pit you the sneeshin intil your sermon, minister, and maybe that’ll serve the same purpose.”  As a specimen of the matter-of-fact view of religious questions frequently recorded of older ministers, let me adduce a well-authenticated account of a minister in a far up-hill parish in Deeside.  Returning thanks one Sabbath for the excellent harvest, he began as usual, “O Lord, we thank thee,” etc., and went on to mention its abundance, and its safe ingathering; but, feeling anxious to be quite candid and scrupulously truthful, added, “all except a few sma’ bitties at Birse no worth o’ mentioning.”

A Scotch preacher, a man of large stature, being sent to officiate one Sunday at a country parish, was accommodated at night, in the manse, in a very diminutive closet—­the usual best bedroom, appropriated to strangers, being otherwise occupied.  “Is this the bedroom?” he said, starting back in amazement. “‘Deed ay, sir, this is the prophets’ chalmer.”  “It maun be for the minor prophets, then,” was the quiet reply.

Elders of the kirk, no doubt, frequently partook of the original and humorous character of ministers and others, their contemporaries; and amusing scenes must have passed, and good Scotch sayings been said, where they were concerned.  Dr. Chalmers used to repeat one of these sayings of an elder with great delight.  The Doctor associated with the anecdote the name of Lady Glenorchy and the church which she endowed; but I am assured that the person was Lady Elizabeth Cunninghame, sister of Archibald, eleventh Earl of Eglinton, and wife of Sir John Cunninghame, Bart., of Caprington,