And William began to be heard of in other spheres than the Parliament House. In the Scottish capital as in the English, stout hearts were banding themselves for a holy war, a new Crusade. Against the physical evils which debase the poor, against giant sins which have their absolute dominions mapped out in every city; for wise men began to see how poverty and wretchedness, iniquity and pollution, press forward upon the mere barrier of defence set up to oppose their progress, and steadily make a way. So one here and there, stung to the heart with one particular evil, and yearning over the masses of unregarded poor, had snatched a flaming brand out of the slow consuming fire, and holding it up above his head, in earnestness almost wild, had begged and prayed his fellows to look upon the ghastly sight below. Little perishing outcast children, trained, as one could fancy, by malignant spirits only, to breathe in crime like daily air. Strong men sinking--sinking--into woe and misery ineffable, binding themselves with those green withes of customary sin, which by and by should harden into chains of iron. Women, woe of woes, lost without hope. And good men had united themselves in an aggressive war, to go forth against all the powers of darkness--not simply to defend, but to invade and rout and conquer, holding no terms or parley with the might of sin. The fluttering flush came and went over Helen’s cheek, as she read eagerly the doings of this new chivalry of Scotland. Her breast swelled--her heart beat. William was among them, bearing arms like a true man. The Reverend Robert had no chance against this: the young man had strayed further from the East than he need have done, and though performing his ministerial work well and conscientiously, did by no means project his very heart into it, or live for it as his chief end. He also was a good man and a Christian; but from his life you would have fancied that the ardent rejoicing might of labour, which insures success in any other profession, was misplaced in his--that the work of all others in which every moment is solemn and weighty, was the one work which should be done in deliberate calmness--for he was not aggressive. He lamented over existing evils, but he did not bravely and at once attack them. He was content to be a matter-of-course minister--as good as his neighbours, moving along in a sort of mechanical respectable way. He was not yet roused to feel himself standing alone, with God his master over him, and the whole world lying in wickedness--to be saved. CHAPTER XVIII. “I am bid forth to supper.”--MERCHANT OF VENICE. It was the evening of Miss Insches’ party, and two of her guests were already comfortably established in the sacred drawing-room. Next day was the fast day in Fendie, and the Reverend Paulus Whyte was to preach. Mr Insches was rather a favourite with Mrs Whyte. She had been persuaded to accompany her husband, and was to remain all night at the Manse.