and being left to themselves, Maxwell spoke highly in praise of the clergyman, though with many listeners what he said would have rather been against than for that reverend gentleman. “I understand him,” said Maxwell, “when he preaches as plainly as if it was one of our own officers.--He tells us that the Bible is our word of command, and if we mind it we shall never be behind in our duty.--Every man to mind his own station, and do as he would be done by, and though it may be a toilsome march, he will get safely invalided in garrison at last; but if he is a deserter or a poltroon, he will go to the devil; as where else ought such fellows to go?--This is what he told us t’other Sunday; he was upon fighting the good fight. Not long before he was about the Centurion, who, he told us, is all as one of our captains. Lord, thinks I to myself, for he read the whole story, what excellent discipline they kept!” Hamilton, who remembered the passage, having assented to this criticism, Maxwell proposed the vicar’s health, and, having emptied and replenished the jug, entertained his friend with many anecdotes in praise of his reverend pastor, who had been extremely kind to himself individually, and had presented to him that very flitch of bacon on which he had that day dined. “Extremely good in its kind it is,” said Maxwell, “but a little too salt.”--To this cause he imputed his being so excessively dry, and the quantity of ale that he said he was obliged to swallow. His eloquence and his ale at last setting the old hero asleep, allowed to the Major an hour of rest, which he had begun very much to want. When both were refreshed, the sister announced Mr. Wentbridge. Maxwell hastened out to meet the vicar, and soon introduced a gentleman turned of fifty, of a countenance mild, pale, and penetrating, with grey hairs thinly scattered over his head; a figure tall, elegant, and prepossessing, and, though somewhat slender, strong and active. The visitor with much softness, in a tone of humanity, and a voice subdued by the apprehensions of disturbing the temporary repose of dangerous illness, expressed his concern for the accounts which he had received.--Maxwell, answering in a voice loud and cheerful, assured his pastor, that the gentleman was in no kind of danger, and briefly narrated the circumstances. “I have been just a-telling my noble Major about your Reverence’s sermons and good deeds.”--Hamilton, now addressing Mr. Wentbridge, expressed the pleasure he hoped to derive from acquaintance with so respectable a gentleman.--The clergyman, though pious and devout, was frank and open in his manner; Hamilton was an honest, bold, and intelligent soldier: two such characters were not long strangers; they were mutually delighted, and the setting sun had reminded the vicar of the evening devotions of his family, before he thought of withdrawing.--Shaking his new acquaintance cordially by the hand, he took his leave, promising to return the following day.--The