Crying for the Light; Or, Fifty Years Ago. Vol. 1 [of 3]Ritchie, J. Ewing (James Ewing)
General
Crying for the Light; Or, Fifty Years Ago. Vol. 1 [of 3]
Ritchie, J. Ewing (James Ewing)
England -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Fiction
The crowd still clustered round the old woman, who was happily more
frightened than hurt. She was one of a class rarely to be met with in
our villages now, but at one time very common. She was a ‘meetinger.’
In some way she was a sufferer for the fact. When Christmas came there
were coals and blankets at the Hall for such of the villagers as attended
the parish church, but the ‘meetingers’ were left out in the cold; and
yet they were the salt of the place—steady, orderly, industrious—content
with their lot, however humble and hard. At the meeting they were all
equals, brothers and sisters in Christ, believing that life was a scene
of sorrow and difficulty, of darkness and poverty and death—believing
also that that sorrow and pain would pass away, that that darkness would
be turned into light, that the tear would be wiped from every eye, and
the riches of heaven would be theirs in exchange for the poverty of
earth, that death should be swallowed up in life. They studied one book,
and that was the Bible. Their talk was in Scripture phrase, and it was
not cant with them, but the utterance of a living faith. That faith
exists no longer, but while it lasted it filled the peasant’s heart with
a joy that the world could neither give nor take away, and there was
peace and content in the home. There was no day like the Sunday, no
treat like that of singing the songs of Zion, or of listening to the
Gospel, as they held the sermon to be. Nowadays our villagers prefer to
smoke a pipe and read the newspaper, and to talk of their rights. Then
they were of the same way of thinking as the citizens of a small German
duchy, who, when the year of revolution came across Europe, and the
Grand-Duke gave them a representative government, were much annoyed at
the trouble thus imposed on them, when he, the Grand-Duke, was born and
endowed to do all the ruling himself.
But the old lady was better, and to her we must return, as she made her
way to meeting.
The person most annoyed was the young preacher. He was shocked at the
autocratic insolence of the party.
‘I shall know that young fellow on horseback,’ he said to himself, ‘if
ever I meet him again, which is not very likely;’ and the young man
continued his walk to the meeting, where he was to preach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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