You will be a celebrated Scotch divine.

You will preach to a crowd of pious numskulls about predestination, and so forth.
You will be stump-orator for the securing of seats in paradise.

Now, now, keep calm!--don't mind me.

It's only a figure of speech! And the numskulls will call you a 'rare powerful rousin' preacher'-- isn't that the way they go on?
and when you die--for die you must, most unfortunately--they will give you a three-cornered block of granite (if they can make up their minds to part with the necessary bawbees) with your name prettily engraved thereon.

That's all very nice; it suits some people.