Duff had not only dreams in boyhood, but he had also deliverances from danger to remember in after years. Once when he was lifting water out of a rushing stream, he fell in and was nearly drowned. At another time he and a companion lost their way at night in a dangerous place where there were deep bogs, and a lake into which had the wanderers fallen, they would have almost certainly perished. Bitter was the cold, and deep was the darkness. The poor boys struggled on and on, dreading to slip down some unseen precipice, or to fall into some deep water. They tried to cheer each other, but their voices grew faint, their strength was failing, they were obliged to sit down to rest. Then the poor children cried to God to save them. Suddenly, as if in answer to prayer, a bright light flashed before them. It disappeared almost instantly, but the gleam was enough. The boys sprung up from the snowy ground on which they were in danger of being frozen to death, ran forward, and stumbled against a garden wall. The light had been but the flare of a torch used by some men in night fishing, but it had been the means of drawing the boys towards a cottage where their shivering bodies were warmed and fed. From that cottage they could be safely guided to the home of Duff's father. Often, when he was a man, did Duff in times of trial and danger remember that sudden flash of light. He thought that the God who had sent it to guide the wandering lost boy, would never leave or forsake the afflicted man who cried to him in the darkness. Duff went to school in the town of Perth, and was so diligent in his studies, that when he left Perth at the age of fifteen, he was the head scholar. He then studied at St. Andrew's college, and carried off prize after prize. Duff was strong in body and strong in mind, and of a brave and cheerful spirit. If he wrote an essay, people read it with admiration; if he made a speech, they listened with delight. He had unusual power to convince and persuade. There was an earnestness in the youth, which united with remarkable talent made his influence great, but we have no reason to think that this rendered him vain. As a friend, Duff was obliging and kind; as a companion, pleasant and cheerful. On Sundays he gathered children around him to teach them such holy lessons as he himself had learned from his father. Duff was full of mirth, but he suffered no impure jest or oath to fall from his lips. The holy spirit of God had shed life into the young man's heart, and it was shown in his words and actions, as we may trace the course of a stream which we do not see by the bright verdure, the flowers, and fruits which grow on its banks.