A BAPTIST. 183 



shade of a honeysuckle. The sun is peeping through its 

 leaves, and casting upon my paper spangles of a bright 

 hue and strangely fantastic form. As I look upon them 

 I cannot avoid recognizing a picture of my own mind. 

 It is thus its lights and shadows blend together. A little 

 cloud has passed over the sun, and my page has become 

 dark and sombre ; and is it not thus that my fair hopes 

 and gay imaginings ofttimes pass away, and leave be- 

 hind them a cloud of darkness ? ' This picture may be 

 somewhat high-wrought, as Miller had announced to 

 William Ross his intention to send his cousin ' a fine 

 sentimental letter, resembling that of a boarding-school 

 miss/ 



On the 19th of August he writes to Swanson, and 

 his correspondence touches again upon matters of im- 

 portance. The town of Cromarty was at this time the 

 residence of a Baptist gentleman of decided views and 

 proselytizing tendencies. He appears to have considered 

 the poetical mason a desirable acquisition for his Church. 

 ' A few days ago/ writes Miller, ' when at work in the 

 old chapel burying-ground, I was favoured by a visit 

 from Mr M , the Baptist. He and I had a long con- 

 versation together. Our subject was the peculiar tenets 

 of his sect, and (if you allow me the expression) the 

 opposing ones of mine. It was he who attacked and I 

 who did not defend ; but I leaned most manfully upon 

 my arms and looked on. And what did I see, do you 

 ask ? Why, I saw much of the strength and of the weak- 

 ness of his cause and much of his strength and weak- 

 ness as an individual. I am pretty certain he saw none 

 of mine. In his opinion concerning Church government 

 I agree entirely with him. But this is no change of 

 mine ; for long since, when angered by the unjust en- 

 croachments on civil liberty of proud Churchmen, men 



