different thing.
In my last letter, I gave you a
pleasing notification of the growth,
as I thought, of spirituality in this Babylon of deceitfulness,
thinking that you and my people would be gladdened with the tidings
of the
repute and
estimation in which your
minister was held, and I
have dealt largely in the way of public
charity. But I doubt that I
have been governed by a spirit of ostentation, and not with that
lowly-mindedness, without which all almsgiving is but a serving of
the altars of Belzebub; for the chastening hand has been laid upon
me, but with the kindness and pity which a tender father hath for
his dear children.
I was requested by those who come so
cordially to me with their
subscription papers, for schools and
suffering worth, to
preach a
sermon to get a
collection. I have no occasion to tell you, that
when I exert myself, what effect I can produce; and I never made so
great an
exertion before, which in itself was a proof that it was
with the two bladders, pomp and
vanity, that I had committed myself
to swim on the
uncertain waters of London; for surely my best
exertions were due to my people. But when the Sabbath came upon
which I was to hold forth, how were my hopes withered, and my
expectations frustrated. Oh, Mr. Micklewham, what an inattentive
congregation was yonder! many slumbered and slept, and I sowed the
words of truth and
holiness in vain upon their
barren and stoney
hearts. There is no true grace among some that I shall not name,
for I saw them whispering and smiling like the scorners, and
altogetherheedless unto the precious things of my
discourse, which
could not have been the case had they been
sincere in their
professions, for I never
preached more to my own
satisfaction on any
occasion whatsoever--and, when I return to my own
parish, you shall
hear what I said, as I will
preach the same
sermon over again, for I
am not going now to print it, as I did once think of doing, and to
have dedicated it to Mr. W-.
We are going about in an easy way,
seeing what is to be seen in the
shape of curiosities; but the whole town is in a state of ferment
with the
election of members to Parliament. I have been to see't,
both in the Guildhall and at Covent Garden, and it's a frightful
thing to see how the Radicals roar like bulls of Bashan, and put
down the speakers in
behalf of the government. I hope no harm will
come of yon, but I must say, that I prefer our own quiet canny
Scotch way at Irvine. Well do I remember, for it happened in the
year I was licensed, that the town council, the Lord Eglinton that
was shot being then provost, took in the late Thomas Bowet to be a
counsellor; and Thomas, not being versed in
election matters, yet
minding to please his
lordship (for, like the rest of the council,
he had always a proper veneration for those in power), he, as I was
saying, consulted Joseph Boyd the
weaver, who was then Dean of
Guild, as to the way of voting;
whereupon Joseph, who was a discreet
man, said to him, "Ye'll just say as I say, and I'll say what Bailie
Shaw says, for he will do what my lord bids him"; which was as
peaceful a way of sending up a member to Parliament as could well be
devised.
But you know that
politics are far from my hand--they belong to the
temporalities of the
community; and the
ministers of peace and
goodwill to man should neither make nor
meddle with them. I wish,
however, that these tumultuous
elections were well over, for they
have had an effect on the per cents, where our bit
legacy is funded;
and it would
terrify you to hear what we have
thereby already lost.
We have not, however, lost so much but that I can spare a little to
the poor among my people; so you will, in the dry weather, after the
seed-time, hire two-three thackers to mend the thack on the roofs of
such of the cottars' houses as stand in need of mending, and banker
M-y will pay the expense; and I beg you to go to him on receipt
hereof, for he has a line for yourself, which you will be sure to
accept as a
testimony from me for the great trouble that my absence
from the
parish has given to you among my people, and I am, dear
sir, your friend and
pastor, Z. PRINGLE.
As Mrs. Glibbans would not permit Mr. Snodgrass to return with her
to the manse, he pursued his journey alone to the Kirkgate of
Irvine, where he found Miss Mally Glencairn on the eve of sitting
down to her
solitary tea. On
seeing her
visitor enter, after the
first compliments on the state of health and weather were over, she
expressed her hopes that he had not drank tea; and, on receiving a