The next day, being Sunday, he preached to a very large congregation in a field near the city; and in the course of his sermon, he adverted to the scenes of the preceding day. "I know," said he, "that many of you may find it difficult to reconcile my appearance yesterday with my clerical character. Many of you, I know, will say that my moments would have been better employed in praying for the unhappy man, than in attending him to the fatal tree; and that perhaps curiosity was the only cause that converted me into a spectator on that occasion; but those who ascribe that uncharitable motive to me, are under a mistake. I went as an observer of human nature, and to see the effect that such an occurrence would have on those who witnessed it. I watched the conduct of those who were present on that awful occasion, and I was highly pleased with their demeanor, which has given me a very favorable opinion of the Scottish nation. Your sympathy was visible on your countenances; particularly when the moment arrived that your unhappy fellow-creature was to close his eyes on this world for ever. Then you all, as if moved by one impulse, turned your heads aside, and wept. Those tears were precious, and will be held in remembrance. How different it was when the Saviour of mankind was extended on the cross! The Jews, instead of sympathizing in his sorrows, triumphed in them. They reviled him with bitter expressions, with words even more bitter than the gall and vinegar which they handed him to drink. Not one of all who witnessed his pains, turned his head aside, even in the last pang. Yes, my friends, there was _one_--that glorious luminary," pointing to the sun, "veiled his brightness, and travelled on his course in tenfold night."