Professor Playfair was now old, and resigned his chair, which Mr. Leslie was perfectly competent to fill on account of his acknowledged scientific acquirements; but, being suspected of heretical opinions, his appointment was keenly opposed, especially on the part of the clergy, and a violent contest arose, which ended in his favour. We became acquainted with him and liked him. He was a man of original genius, full of information on a variety of subjects, agreeable in conversation and good natured, but with a singular vanity as to personal appearance. Though one of the coarsest looking men I ever knew, he talked so much of polish and refinement that it tempted Mr. William Clerk, of Eldin, to make a very clever clay model of his ungainly figure. The professor's hair was grey, and he dyed it with something that made it purple; and, as at that time the art was not brought to its present perfection, the operation was tedious and only employed at intervals, so that the professor's hair was often white at the roots and dark purple at the extremities. He was always falling in love, and, to Somerville's inexpressible amusement, he made me his decoy duck, inviting me to see some experiments, which he performed dexterously; at the same time telling me to bring as many young ladies as I chose, especially Miss----, for he was sure she had a turn for science. He was unfortunate in his aspirations, and remained a bachelor to the end of his life. * * * * * It was the custom in Edinburgh, especially among the clergy, to dine between the morning and evening service on Sundays, and to sup at nine or ten o'clock. In no family were these suppers more agreeable or cheerful than in that of Sir Henry Moncreiff Wellwood, minister of the West Kirk. There were always a few of the friends of Sir Henry and Lady Moncreiff present, and we were invited occasionally. There was a substantial hot supper of roasted fowls, game, or lamb, and afterwards a lively, animated conversation on a variety of subjects, without a shade of austerity, though Sir Henry was esteemed an orthodox preacher. There was an idiot in Edinburgh, the son of a respectable family, who had a remarkable memory. He never failed to go to the Kirk on Sunday, and on returning home could repeat the sermon word for word, saying, Here the minister coughed, Here he stopped to blow his nose. During the tour we made in the Highlands we met with another idiot who knew the Bible so perfectly that if you asked him where such a verse was to be found, he could tell without hesitation, and repeat the chapter. The common people in Scotland at that time had a kind of serious compassion for these harmless idiots, because "the hand of God was upon them."