The Annals of the Parish: Or, the Chronicle of Dalmailing During the Ministry of the Rev. Micah BalwhidderGalt, John
General
The Annals of the Parish: Or, the Chronicle of Dalmailing During the Ministry of the Rev. Micah Balwhidder
Galt, John
Clergy -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
This vision perplexed me for many days, and when the news came that the
King of France was beheaded by the hands of his people, I received, as it
were, a token in confirmation of the vision that had been disclosed to me
in my sleep, and I preached a discourse on the same, and against the
French Revolution, that was thought one of the greatest and soundest
sermons that I had ever delivered in my pulpit.
On the Monday following, Mr. Cayenne, who had been some time before
appointed a justice of the peace, came over from Wheatrig House to the
Cross-Keys, where he sent for me and divers other respectable inhabitants
of the clachan, and told us that he was to have a sad business, for a
warrant was out to bring before him two democratical weaver lads, on a
suspicion of high treason. Scarcely were the words uttered when they
were brought in, and he began to ask them how they dared to think of
dividing, with their liberty and equality of principles, his and every
other man’s property in the country. The men answered him in a calm
manner, and told him they sought no man’s property, but only their own
natural rights; upon which he called them traitors and reformers. They
denied they were traitors, but confessed they were reformers, and said
they knew not how that should be imputed to them as a fault, for that the
greatest men of all times had been reformers,—“Was not,” they said, “our
Lord Jesus Christ a reformer?”—“And what the devil did he make of it?”
cried Mr. Cayenne, bursting with passion; “Was he not crucified?”
I thought, when I heard these words, that the pillars of the earth sank
beneath me, and that the roof of the house was carried away in a
whirlwind. The drums of my ears crackit, blue starns danced before my
sight, and I was fain to leave the house and hie me home to the manse,
where I sat down in my study, like a stupified creature, awaiting what
would betide. Nothing, however, was found against the weaver lads; but I
never from that day could look on Mr. Cayenne as a Christian, though
surely he was a true government-man.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account