the Presbyterian Church, he did not feel himself at liberty to obey the bishop’s mandate. Some time after this, the family of Mr Austin were placed in circumstances of a very trying nature. William Austin, an only son, and now a probationer of great promise and talents, had long been threatened with that fatal complaint which smiles whilst it drinks dry the well-springs of life. And sore and seriously did the alarmed and affectionate mother plead with her husband to satisfy the bishop, submit to a renewed presentation from Douglas of Queensberry, the lay patron, and thus reclaim his manse and stipend undisturbed and undisputed. But Samuel Austin was not to be diverted from his line of conceived duty, even by the most tender ties of the heart. It was on a keen, frosty Saturday morning, in the month of January, whilst all the surrounding hills were covered with snow, and the pools, ponds, and lochs with ice, that the family of the manse were convened in the little parlour, and engaged in family worship, which was, as had been usual for some time, conducted by the young probationer, William; for although the fatal disease had not yet impaired his faculties, or very greatly reduced his strength, its presence was still manifest by the hectic spot in the cheek and the nightly fever. William had been selected as the future choice of a neighbouring congregation, should they be permitted to make their own selection; but the state of his health had made it manifest to all that his Master had not so determined. Whilst William was upon his knees (after having sung the psalm and read the chapter), pouring forth, in extempore and fervent expression, the feelings of himself and of his fellow-worshippers to the common and true God, through the one common and only Saviour, the door was rudely assailed, and ultimately forced open, and in came the harsh and bearded countenance of the afterwards notorious General Dalziell of Binns,[1] accompanied by a band of well accoutred dragoons.