“Why, as the horse’s have the advantage of moving considerably faster, and are, besides, two pair to one, I own I incline”-- “Enough said--enough said--do as you please. Well then, I’ll bring either Grizel or the minister, for I love to have my full pennyworth out of post-horses--and we meet at Tirlingen turnpike on Friday, at twelve o’clock precisely. “--And with this ageement the friends separated. CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. Of seats they tell, where priests, ‘mid tapers dim, Breathed the warm prayer, or tuned the midnight hymn To scenes like these the fainting soul retired; Revenge and Anger in these cells expired: By Pity soothed, Remorse lost half her fears, And softened Pride dropped penitential tears. Crabbe’s Borough. The morning of Friday was as serene and beautiful as if no pleasure party had been intended; and that is a rare event, whether in novel-writing or real life. Lovel, who felt the genial influence of the weather, and rejoiced at the prospect of once more meeting with Miss Wardour, trotted forward to the place of rendezvous with better spirits than he had for some time enjoyed. His prospects seemed in many respects to open and brighten before him--and hope, although breaking like the morning sun through clouds and showers, appeared now about to illuminate the path before him. He was, as might have been expected from this state of spirits, first at the place of meeting,--and, as might also have been anticipated, his looks were so intently directed towards the road from Knockwinnock Castles that he was only apprized of the arrival of the Monkbarns division by the gee-hupping of the postilion, as the post-chaise lumbered up behind him. In this vehicle were pent up, first, the stately figure of Mr. Oldbuck himself; secondly, the scarce less portly person of the Reverend Mr. Blattergowl, minister of Trotcosey, the parish in which Monkbarns and Knockwinnock were both situated. The reverend gentleman was equipped in a buzz wig, upon the top of which was an equilateral cocked hat. This was the paragon of the three yet remaining wigs of the parish, which differed, as Monkbarns used to remark, like the three degrees of comparison--Sir Arthur’s ramilies being the positive, his own bob-wig the comparative, and the overwhelming grizzle of the worthy clergyman figuring as the superlative. The superintendent of these antique garnitures, deeming, or affecting to deem, that he could not well be absent on an occasion which assembled all three together, had seated himself on the board behind the carriage, “just to be in the way in case they wanted a touch before the gentlemen sat down to dinner.” Between the two massive figures of Monkbarns and the clergyman was stuck, by way of bodkin, the slim form of Mary M’Intyre, her aunt having preferred a visit to the manse, and a social