Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 02
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 02
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
I could feel, in the cottage of such a peasant, and seated beside such
men as his two sons, the full force of the remark. And yet I have heard
the miserable sophism of unprincipled power against which it was
directed--a sophism so insulting to the dignity of honest poverty--a
thousand times repeated.
Supper over, the family circle widened round the hearth; and the old
man, taking down a large clasped Bible, seated himself beside the iron
lamp which now lighted the apartment. There was deep silence among us as
he turned over the leaves. Never shall I forget his appearance. He was
tall and thin, and though his frame was still vigorous, considerably
bent. His features were high and massy--the complexion still retained
much of the freshness of youth, and the eye all its intelligence; but
the locks were waxing thin and grey round his high, thoughtful forehead,
and the upper part of the head, which was elevated to an unusual height,
was bald. There was an expression of the deepest seriousness on the
countenance, which the strong umbery shadows of the apartment served to
heighten; and when, laying his hand on the page, he half turned his face
to the circle, and said, "_Let us worship God_," I was impressed by a
feeling of awe and reverence to which I had, alas! been a stranger for
years. I was affected too, almost to tears, as I joined in the psalm;
for a thousand half-forgotten associations came rushing upon me; and my
heart seemed to swell and expand as, kneeling beside him when he prayed,
I listened to his solemn and fervent petition, that God might make
manifest his great power and goodness in the salvation of man. Nor was
the poor solitary wanderer of the deep forgotten.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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