The old faith is infinitely more attractive to mankind than the new Presbyterian verity.

A thing of slow and long evolution, the Church had assimilated and hallowed the world-old festivals of the year's changing seasons.

She provided for the human love of recreation.

Her Sundays were holidays, not composed of gloomy hours in stuffy or draughty kirks, under the current voice of the preacher.

Her confessional enabled the burdened soul to lay down its weight in sacred privacy; her music, her ceremonies, the dim religious light of her fanes, naturally awaken religious emotion.