'I regret then, Mr. Convener, to have to remind you that your court has no jurisdiction. Faith, morals, and discipline, are the exclusive province of the Session; and I for one protest against the Deacons' Court presuming to touch such matters.' 'Presumin'! quotha!' interjected Andrew Semple. 'An' hasna ilka auld wife e'y Glen been presumin', as ye ca' 't, for twa week back an' mair?' Here Mr. Geddie felt compelled to intervene, and pour the oil of evangelical sweetness on the troubled waters. He was to dine and spend the night along with Mr. Dowlas at Auchlippie, therefore he would fain have agreed with his host; at the same time he had no intention of being balked of a sensation, and what promised to be a most interesting hunt after recent iniquity, at the very outset. 'It appears to me, my friends,' he said in his smoothest accents, 'that the points of order raised by our excellent brother have great weight, and are taken with that clear and perspicuous wisdom which have made his opinions a tower of strength to the church in turning back the army of the aliens; and therefore while the Deacons' Court are manifestly moved by a holy zeal for righteousness, such as we might have expected at their hands, it will be best that they do not take action officially in this matter.' 'I defy them to do it!' interjected the Laird, little mollified by the unctuous adjectives. 'It is also not to be expected,' continued this reverend Achitophel, 'that our erring brother'---- 'Prove the error,' muttered the Laird. 'That our brother who has wandered from the paths of holy living, but whom we all love (and brethren, I may add that he is still but young, and the flesh is weak)! It is not to be expected that he should call a Court to investigate into his own shortcomings; or that until he has been brought to see and admit the heinousness of his offences, and that they have all been found out (for that, brethren, I have always observed is a powerful lever in awakening a slumbering conscience)--It is when the poor sinner has discovered that his refuges of lies will not stand, that they are all swept away like mists before the winds of indignation, and that the clear light of truth is shining down on his nakedness, and wretchedness, and moral wounds; it is then that the poor sinner comes forth with tears in his eyes and sackcloth on his loins, and cries aloud, "I have sinned."' Here the orator stopped for breath. He was moved by his own pathetic elocution, and his picture of the returning prodigal. Also, he had got entangled among his parts of speech, and lost his way among the parentheses; and now he scarcely knew where he was, or what he had intended to say next.