Annals of a Quiet Neighbourhood by George Macdonald, LL. D. New York Contents CHAPTER I. DESPONDENCY AND CONSOLATION. CHAPTER II. MY FIRST SUNDAY AT MARSHMALLOWS. CHAPTER III. MY FIRST MONDAY AT MARSHMALLOWS. CHAPTER IV. THE COFFIN. CHAPTER V. VISITORS FROM THE HALL. CHAPTER VI. OLDCASTLE HALL. CHAPTER VII. THE BISHOP’S BASIN. CHAPTER VIII. WHAT I PREACHED. CHAPTER IX. THE ORGANIST. CHAPTER X. MY CHRISTMAS PARTY. CHAPTER XI. SERMON ON GOD AND MAMMON. CHAPTER XII. THE AVENUE. CHAPTER XIII. YOUNG WEIR. CHAPTER XIV. MY PUPIL. CHAPTER XV. DR DUNCAN’S STORY. CHAPTER XVI. THE ORGAN. CHAPTER XVII. THE CHURCH-RATE. CHAPTER XVIII. JUDY’S NEWS. CHAPTER XIX. THE INVALID. CHAPTER XX. MOOD AND WILL. CHAPTER XXI. THE DEVIL IN THOMAS WEIR. CHAPTER XXII. THE DEVIL IN CATHERINE WEIR. CHAPTER XXIII. THE DEVIL IN THE VICAR. CHAPTER XXIV. AN ANGEL UNAWARES. CHAPTER XXV. TWO PARISHIONERS. CHAPTER XXVI. SATAN CAST OUT. CHAPTER XXVII. THE MAN AND THE CHILD. CHAPTER XXVIII. OLD MRS TOMKINS. CHAPTER XXIX. CALM AND STORM. CHAPTER XXX. A SERMON TO MYSELF. CHAPTER XXXI. A COUNCIL OF FRIENDS. CHAPTER XXXII. THE NEXT THING. CHAPTER XXXIII. OLD ROGERS’S THANKSGIVING. CHAPTER XXXIV. TOM’S STORY. CHAPTER I. DESPONDENCY AND CONSOLATION. Before I begin to tell you some of the things I have seen and heard, in both of which I have had to take a share, now from the compulsion of my office, now from the leading of my own heart, and now from that destiny which, including both, so often throws the man who supposed himself a mere on-looker, into the very vortex of events—that destiny which took form to the old pagans as a gray mist high beyond the heads of their gods, but to us is known as an infinite love, revealed in the mystery of man—I say before I begin, it is fitting that, in the absence of a common friend to do that office for me, I should introduce myself to your acquaintance, and I hope coming friendship. Nor can there be any impropriety in my telling you about myself, seeing I remain concealed behind my own words. You can never look me in the eyes, though you may look me in the soul. You may find me out, find my faults, my vanities, my sins, but you will not SEE me, at least in this world. To you I am but a voice of revealing, not a form of vision; therefore I am bold behind the mask, to speak to you heart to heart; bold, I say, just so much the more that I do not speak to you face to face. And when we meet in heaven—well, there I know there is no hiding; there, there is no reason for hiding anything; there, the whole desire will be alternate revelation and vision.