of Bishop Skinner dispersed these unsubstantial mists of
detraction if not of malice, and he thus disposed of the unworthy
attempt to injure Seabury and intimidate his consecrators: "I
cannot help considering the whole of this intelligence as a mean
and silly artifice of some enemy to Dr. Seabury, who secretly
envies us the introducing such a worthy man into America in the
character of a bishop, a character I am fully satisfied he is in
every way qualified to support with honor to himself and all
concerned with him. For if there be truth and candor in man, I
honestly declare I think it is in Dr. Seabury." [Footnote: The
letter to the Primus with the other correspondence is given in the
_Scottish Church Review_, i. 111-118.]

We have reached, at length, the consummation of this more than
knightly quest, this veritable pilgrimage, the story of which I
have tried to tell. When I began it last year, I asked you to go
with me, in thought, to a secluded inland village in our own
Diocese. Now I must ask you to go with me to a grey old city, the
capital of northern Scotland, which looks out upon the German
ocean. It is a place of old renown, for it had a name before one
civilized man had set foot on this northern continent. Did time
permit, much might be said about it; for it was once the home of
Hector Boethius, praised by the great Erasmus, and in far later
times the home, also, of Forbes of Corse and Henry Scougal; and
its clergy and people in 1639 refused the "solemn League and
Covenant" until it was forced upon them at the point of the sword,
and renounced it when the pressure was withdrawn. It is sometimes
called "the city of Bon-Accord," from the legend of its arms. And
that legend must always for us have a higher than any earthly
application, for it must always speak to us of "the unity of the