Notwithstanding his keenness of judgment and sobriety in action, Malcolm had yet a certain love for effect, a delight, that is, in the show of concentrated results, which, as I believe I have elsewhere remarked, belongs especially to the Celtic nature, and is one form in which the poetic element vaguely embodies itself. Hence arose the temptation to try on Blue Peter the effect of a literally theatrical surprise. He knew well the prejudices of the greater portion of the Scots people against every possible form of artistic, most of all, dramatic representation. He knew, therefore, also, that Peter would never be persuaded to go with him to the theatre: to invite him would be like asking him to call upon Beelzebub; but as this feeling was cherished in utter ignorance of its object, he judged he would be doing him no wrong if he made experiment how the thing itself would affect the heart and judgment of the unsophisticated fisherman. Finding that _The Tempest_ was still the play represented, he contrived, as they walked together, so to direct their course that they should be near Drury Lane towards the hour of commencement. He did not want to take him in much before the time: he would not give him scope for thought, doubt, suspicion, discovery. When they came in front of the theatre, people were crowding in, and carriages setting down their occupants. Blue Peter gave a glance at the building. “This’ll be ane o’ the Lon’on kirks, I’m thinkin’?” he said. “It’s a muckle place; an’ there maun be a heap o’ guid fowk in Lon’on, for as ill ’s it’s ca’d, to see sae mony, an’ i’ their cairritches, comin’ to the kirk--on a Setterday nicht tu. It maun be some kin’ o’ a prayer-meetin’, I’m thinkin’.” Malcolm said nothing, but led the way to the pit entrance. “That’s no an ill w’y o’ getherin’ the baubees,” said Peter, seeing how the in-comers paid their money. “I hae h’ard o’ the plate bein’ robbit in a muckle toon afore noo.” When at length they were seated, and he had time to glance reverently around him, he was a little staggered at sight of the decorations; and the thought crossed his mind of the pictures and statues he had heard of in catholic churches; but he remembered Westminster Abbey, its windows and monuments, and returned to his belief that he was, if in an episcopal, yet in a protestant church. But he could not help the thought that the galleries were a little too gaudily painted, while the high pews in them astonished him. Peter’s nature, however, was one of those calm, slow ones which, when occupied by an idea or a belief, are by no means ready to doubt its correctness, and are even ingenious in reducing all apparent contradictions to theoretic harmony with it--whence it came that to him all this was only part of the church furniture according to the taste and magnificence of London. He sat quite tranquil, therefore, until the curtain rose, revealing the ship’s company in all the confusion of the wildest of sea storms.