We think, on the whole, that, taking town and country congregations together, millinery has not flourished under Presbyterianism,--it seems to thrive better in the Romish atmosphere of France; but the Disruption at least, has had nothing to answer for in the matter, as it appears simply to have parted the bonnets of Scotland in twain, as Moses divided the Red Sea, and left good and evil on both sides.
I can never forget our first military service at St.Giles'.

We left Breadalbane Terrace before nine in the morning and walked along the beautiful curve of street that sweeps around the base of the Castle Rock,--walked on through the poverty and squalor of the High Street, keeping in view the beautiful lantern tower as a guiding-star, till we heard 'The murmur of the city crowd; And, from his steeple, jingling loud, St.Giles's mingling din.' We joined the throng outside the venerable church, and awaited the approach of the soldiers from the Castle parade-ground; for it is from there they march in detachments to the church of their choice.

A religion they must have, and if, when called up and questioned about it, they have forgotten to provide themselves, or have no preference as to form of worship, they are assigned to one by the person in authority.
When the regiments are assembled on the parade-ground of a Sunday morning, the first command is, 'Church of Scotland, right about face, quick march!'-- the bodies of men belonging to other denominations standing fast until their turn comes to move.

It is said that a new officer once gave the command, 'Church of Scotland, right about face, quick march! Fancy releegions, stay where ye are!' Just as we were being told this story by an attendant squire, there was a burst of scarlet and a blare of music, and down Castlehill and the Lawnmarket into Parliament Square marched hundreds of redcoats, the Highland pipers (otherwise the Olympian gods) swinging in front, leaving the American female heart prostrate beneath their victorious tread.

The strains of music that in the distance sounded so martial and triumphant we recognised in a moment as 'Abide with me,' and never did the fine old tune seem more majestic than when it marked a measure for the steady tramp, tramp, tramp, of those soldierly feet.