The chief revolution in the affairs of the Cameronians of Dumfriesshire, was effected at the death of John Curtis. They had been driven by persecution to preach on the mountains, and though persecution had ceased, on the mountains they remained. It was certainly a beautiful and impressive sight to see a congregation worshipping God on a mountain side or a wild glen; to see the upright pulpit-rows of bared, and white, and bald heads decently ranged around--and more extended ranks of beautiful women and active men drawn up in a regular confusion--the whole listening to the eloquence of my old friend Farely. This, with a clear day and a bright sun, must make an impression of devotion on the most obtuse intellect. But as the mason said of the wise man who sung, "Snow is beautiful in its season," "My certes," said he, "it was easy for him, with his lasses and his wine to sing so; had he been a poor free-stone mason, he would have sung another sang." For the weather seemed sometimes to inherit the rancour of the bloody Claverhouse, or the renowned chieftain of Lagg, to this persecuted race; and, instead of June giving one of her brightest and balmmiest days for the Sacrament, I have witnessed the heavy rain come down sans intermission for four stricken hours, as if ambitious to measure its mercies by the length of the "Action Sermon." By some this circumstance was hailed as a divine acknowledgment of their presence and influence; and after some very dry weather I have heard Mr. Farely turn a timely thunder shower to good account, by apostrophizing the Deity for his kindness to "this dry barren land." On another occasion--the morning was serene during the introductory discourse, and just as my friend Farely began to administer the sacrament, a huge black cloud sailed from the westward, and hung heavy and ominous over the congregation. Ere the ladies could raise their plaids, it descended perpendicular plump down, and the huge drops splashed off the bald crown of the preacher, in a manner that Kemble would have envied in acting King Lear. A Cameronian with an umbrella, at that time an unusual thing in the country, arose and stretched it over the Professor's head, regardless of himself. At this visible interposition between him and heaven, the preacher was wroth, and said audibly, "Take the Pope's cap off me," and his conduct was highly applauded.