lace under the rocks on the
south side of the town, where he could see nothing before him but the
lonely desert of the calm and soundless ocean.

CHAPTER VI

Many a time did my grandfather, in his old age, when all things he spoke
were but remembrances, try to tell what passed in his bosom while he was
sitting alone, under those cliffy rocks, gazing on the silent and
innocent sea, thinking of that dreadful work, more hideous than the
horrors of winds and waves, with which blinded men, in the lusts of
their idolatry, were then blackening the ethereal face of heaven; but he
was ever unable to proceed for the struggles of his spirit and the
gushing of his tears. Verily it was an awful thing to see that
patriarchal man overcome by the recollections of his youth; and the
manner in which he spoke of the papistical cruelties was as the pouring
of the energy of a new life into the very soul, instigating thoughts and
resolutions of an implacable enmity against those ruthless adversaries
to the hopes and redemption of the world, insomuch that, while yet a
child, I was often worked upon by what he said, and felt my young heart
so kindled with the live coals of his godly enthusiasm, that he himself
has stopped in the eloquence of his discourse, wondering at my fervour.
Then he would lay his hand upon my head, and say, the Lord had not
gifted me with such zeal without having a task in store for my riper
years. His words of prophecy, as shall hereafter appear, have greatly
and wonderfully come to pass. But it is meet that for a season I should
rehearse what ensued to him, for his story is full of solemnities and
strange accidents.

Having rested some time on the sea-shore, he rose and walked along the
toilsome shingle, scarcely noting which way he went--his thoughts being
busy with the martyrdom he had witnessed, flushing one moment with a
glorious indignation, and fainting the next with despondent reflections
on his own friendless state. For he looked upon himself as adrift on the
tides of the world, believing that his patron, the Earl of Glencairn,
would to a surety condemn his lack of fortitude in not enduring the
servitude of the Archbishop, after having been in so miraculous a manner
accepted into it, even as if Providence had made him a special
instrument to achieve the discoveries which the Lords of the
Congregation had then so much at heart. And while he was walking along
in this fluctuating mood, he came suddenly