near Kilmarnock.  It seems her ladyship had, for some reason, taken offence at the proceedings of the Caprington parochial authorities, and a result of which was that she ceased putting her usual liberal offering into the plate at the door.  This had gone on for some time, till one of the elders, of less forbearing character than the others, took his turn at the plate.  Lady Elizabeth as usual passed by without a contribution, but made a formal courtsey to the elder at the plate, and sailed up the aisle.  The good man was determined not to let her pass so easily, so he quickly followed her, and urged the remonstrance:  “Gie us mair o’ your siller and less o’ your mainners, my lady Betty.”  My kind correspondent, Rev. Mr. Agnew, supplies me with an amusing pendant to this anecdote:—­At a great church meeting, Dr. Chalmers had told this story with much effect when Lord Galloway was in the chair.  After the meeting, Dr. Chalmers, and many who had been present, dined at his lordship’s hospitable table.  After dinner, when the morning meeting was discussed, Lord Galloway addressed Dr. Chalmers on the subject of this story and, as if not quite pleased at its being introduced, said, “Do you know, Doctor, the lady of whom you told the story of the elder is a near relation of mine?” Dr. Chalmers, with real or seeming simplicity, answered, “No, my Lord, I did not; but next time I tell the story I can mention the fact.”  As a pendant to the elder’s disclaimer of “mainners” on the part of a lady of rank, I may add an authentic anecdote of a very blunt and unpolished Kincardineshire laird, expressing the same disclaimer of mainners on the part of a servant, but in a far rougher form of speech.  He had been talking with a man who came to offer for his service as a butler.  But the laird soon found he was far too grand a gentleman for his service, and became chafed with his requiring so many things as conditions of coming; till, on his dismissal, when the man was bowing and scraping to show how genteel he could be, he lost all patience, and roared out, “Get out, ye fule; gie us nane o’ your mainners here.”

Of an eccentric and eloquent professor and divine of a northern Scottish university, there are numerous and extraordinary traditionary anecdotes.  I have received an account of some of these anecdotes from the kind communication of an eminent Scottish clergyman, who was himself in early days his frequent hearer.  The stories told of the strange observations and allusions which he introduced into his pulpit discourses almost surpass belief.  For many reasons, they are not suitable to the nature of this publication, still less could they be tolerated in any pulpit administration now, although familiar with his contemporaries.  The remarkable circumstance, however, connected with these eccentricities was, that he introduced them with the utmost gravity, and oftentimes, after he had delivered them, pursued his subject with great earnestness and eloquence, as if he had said nothing