Memoirs and resolutions of Adam Graeme of Mossgray, including some chronicles of the borough of FendieOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
History
Memoirs and resolutions of Adam Graeme of Mossgray, including some chronicles of the borough of Fendie
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Bildungsromans; Scotland -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Youth -- Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
William Oswald, the banker’s son, inherited in some degree the
disposition of his father; but the bitterness of the original stock was
modified in the branch. A grave, decided, firm man, his character had
already developed itself; but he was not obstinate. His mind was open at
all points to truth, and strong and tenacious as was the grasp of his
opinion, he was still convinceable, and did not wilfully shut his eyes
against the light from what quarter soever it came. And William Oswald,
though a thoroughly natural and warm-hearted man, and with indeed a
singular degree of ardour under his gravity, was of the stuff which made
stoics in the old Roman times. He had a power of self-denial and
self-restraint, which is at all times a very considerable weapon, and
could hold steadily on, past all the temptations of pleasure--past even
the natural resting-place which wooed him to needed repose, on direct to
his end. He did not speak about it; he made no demonstration of his
ceaseless pursuit; but he fixed his dark glowing eyes clearly and
steadily upon his aim, and went on, swerving neither to the right hand
nor the left--able to give up pleasure, ease--able to endure toil and
solitude, and with a definite, clear end before him, to pursue his way
unfalteringly till it was gained.
He had been “bred a writer,” as the sons of respectable, wealthy,
middle-class men in Scotland frequently are, whether they be intended to
practise the law as a profession or no; and there had been some talk of
William succeeding Mr Shaw _the_ writer in Fendie in his great business.
But William, it appeared, did not choose to enter into partnership with
young Mr Nichol Shaw, and in the mean time he was resting ingloriously
in the obscure labours of his father’s office.
And it greatly chafed the impatient spirit of Helen Buchanan that it
should be so. Like most imaginative, youthful women, Helen fancied the
freedom and licence of mankind one of the greatest possible gifts. There
was no glorious “might be” which did not seem to her ideal vision open
to the ambition of _a man_. The exceeding might of virtuous
influence--the empire of the generous, brave spirit over its
fellows--once on this free eminence of manhood, and the ardent mind knew
that these would be hers--they were possible to men--above all to the
one man upon whom the fair garments of the ideal began to fall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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