Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07 — John Shaqi
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
While yet some miles from the end of his journey, the shades of night
began to fall over the undulating heights that form the end of the Ochil
chain to the west; but, as yet, the sun, the only object seen in the
whole horizon, appeared in full disk, red and lurid, like the mass of
ember-faggots which, some hours before, lay in the street of St Andrews,
surmounted by the blackened corpse of the martyr. The traveller turned
his eye in the direction of the luminary; but quickly passed his hand
over his brow, from an instinctive feeling of horror, as a dim wreath of
cloud, stretching along the superior part of the fiery circle, seemed to
realise again, in solemn magnificence, the sight he had witnessed. The
altitude of the object which suggested the resemblance, with the
gorgeousness in which it was arrayed, again claimed the aspiring
thought, that the spirit of his friend, sublimed by the doctrines of
the new faith, was even then journeying to the spheres which he
contemplated. The final triumph of the martyr was completed in the scene
of his agonies; and the seal of eternal truth was, by God's finger,
imprinted on the doctrines he had published and explained in the midst
of the melting fire of the furnace. Placing his hand in his breast, he
drew forth the beautiful Latin treatise which his friend had composed on
the subject of the justification of the sinner, through a believing
faith in Him who was foretold from the beginning of time; and, sitting
again down by the side of a hedge, he struggled, in the descending
twilight, to store his mind with some of those precepts which were
destined to claim the reverence of an enlightened world. He was soon
lost in the rapt meditation in which the spirits of the early reformers
rejoiced amidst the persecution with which they were surrounded, and was
again in regions brighter than those of this world, in communion with
him who, when the flames were already crackling among the faggots, cried
out, "Behold the way to everlasting life!" From the exalted sphere of
his dreamy cogitations he looked down with a contempt which, as his head
reclined among the grass, might have been observed curling the lip of
indignant scorn, upon all the thousand corruptions of the Old
Church--its sold indulgences, its certified beatifications, its pardons,
its soul-redeeming masses, its chanting music, its sins, and its
ineffectual mortifications. The bright spirit of Christianity, arrayed
in her pure garment of white, was before the view of his fancy; her
clear seraphic eye beamed through his soul: and, with finger pointed to
heaven, she invited him to brave the pile and the persecution of men,
and gain the crown which was now encircling the temples of Hamilton. He
thought he could then have died as his friend had perished, and that the
pangs of the circling flames would have been felt by him merely as the
smart pungency of a healing medicament, which the patient rejoices in as
the means of acquiring health.
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