are seldom negligent. His progress in knowledge
of a general kind, as well as in the studies proper to his profession, was very
considerable, but was little remarked, owing to the retired modesty of his
disposition, which in no respect qualified him to set off his learning to the
best advantage. And thus, had Butler been a man given to make complaints, he had
his tale to tell, like others, of unjust preferences, bad luck, and hard usage.
On these subjects, however, he was habitually silent, perhaps from modesty,
perhaps from a touch of pride, or perhaps from a conjunction of both.
    He obtained his license as a preacher of the gospel, with some compliments
from the Presbytery by whom it was bestowed; but this did not lead to any
preferment, and he found it necessary to make the cottage at Beersheba his
residence for some months, with no other income than was afforded by the
precarious occupation of teaching in one or other of the neighbouring families.
After having greeted his aged grandmother, his first visit was to Woodend, where
he was received by Jeanie with warm cordiality, arising from recollections which
had never been dismissed from her mind, by Rebecca with good-humoured
hospitality, and by old Deans in a mode peculiar to himself.
    Highly as Douce Davie honoured the clergy, it was not upon each individual
of the cloth that he bestowed his approbation; and, a little jealous, perhaps,
at seeing his youthful acquaintance erected into the dignity of a teacher and
preacher, he instantly attacked him upon various points of controversy, in order
to discover whether he might not have fallen into some of the snares,
defections, and desertions of the time. Butler was not only a man of stanch
Presbyterian principles, but was also willing to avoid giving pain to his old
friend by disputing upon points of little importance; and therefore he might
have hoped to have come like fine gold out of the furnace of Davie's
interrogatories. But the result on the mind of that strict investigator was not
altogether so favourable as might have been hoped and anticipated. Old Judith
Butler, who had hobbled that evening as far as Woodend, in order to enjoy the
congratulations of her neighbours upon Reuben's return, and upon his high
attainments, of which she was herself not a little proud, was somewhat mortified
to find that her old friend Deans did not enter into the subject with the warmth
she expected. At first, indeed, he seemed rather silent than dissatisfied; and
it was not till Judith had essayed the subject more than once that it led to