That can hae no pairt i' what fowk ca's the plan o'
salvation--as gien the consumin fire o' the Love eternal was to be ca'd a
_plan_! Hech, minister, it scunners me! But for the fut, it's aye perfec'
eneuch to be _my_ pattern, for it's the only ane I hae to follow! It's
Himsel sets the shape o' the shune this or that man maun weir!"
"That's very true--and the same applies to everything a man cannot help. A
man has both the make of his mind and of his circumstances to do the best
he can with, and sometimes they don't seem to fit each other--so well as, I
hope, your boots will fit my feet."
"Ye're richt there, sir--only that no man's bun' to follow his inclinations
or his circumstances, ony mair than he's bun' to alter his fut to the shape
o' a ready-made beet!--But hoo wull ye hae them made, sir?--I mean what
sort o' butes wad ye hae me mak?"
"Oh, I leave that to you, Mr. MacLear!--a sort of half Wellington, I
suppose--a neat pair of short boots."
"I understand, sir."
"And now tell me," said the minister, moved by a sudden impulse, coming he
knew not whence, "what you think of this new fad, if it be nothing worse,
of the English clergy--I mean about the duty of confessing to the priest.
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