“No, his degree is not from a Scots University, but from a seat of learning in a Western State of America--Auroraville, I think it is called, but I am not sure. Yes, he wrote a little book on the _Maidens of the Bible_ of a popular cast. “You agree with me that no one could use such a testimony with... self-respect, and I have resolved to print no certificates or make any personal appeal; but I do not regret the effort I made, for it has gained me the Professor's letter,” and the probationer folded up the letter carefully and placed it in his desk. “I fear that you must think me charged with vain ambition, but... it is not for my own sake.” From time to time we spent an hour together, and he told me of his journeys, many and toilsome. “Of course I am not sent to supply in cities, for they require men of greater... experience; my allotment is always in the country, and I like that better. “When my station comes near I begin to look out of the window and see whether the district is level or hilly--for though climbing tries one a little, one has a fair view to refresh the soul, and I like woods because of the mystery and the rustling of the leaves. “Sometimes a farmer will meet me with a dogcart--and there are no men so kind as farmers--but mostly I walk, and that is nothing unless the distance be far and it be raining heavily. No, it may be a weakness of the flesh, but I do not like a night walk, and yet to see the squares of light in the cottage windows, flashing across a glen or breaking out of a wood, is very pleasing.” One snowy morning in February he came into my room in evident excitement, with a letter in his hand. “You have taken such an interest in my affairs that I thought you would like to know... I have received a letter informing me that I am on the short leet for Tilliegask... just two, and I am one... and I am to preach next Sabbath... and the farmer with whom I stayed has sent a very encouraging letter.” During the week the probationer was much tried on a question of conscience, whether he ought to act on a suggestion of his friend at Tilliegask. “It happens,” he explained to me, “that the people at Tilliegask are very conservative in their views of the Bible, while, as you are aware, I have been led to accept certain modern conclusions regarding the history of the books, and my good friend desires that I should... make no allusion to them in my discourse. “Now,” went on the probationer, “it was not my intention to do so, but after this advice am I not bound in conscience to indicate, simply to indicate, my position, that they may not be deceived, and that I may not obtain a church by guile?” And he read to me the sentence, which I make no doubt no one understood, but which was to Mr. Clunas a great relief. He came home from Tilliegask in high spirits, and speculated every evening on his chances as against the other man who was to preach on Sabbath.