Page:Traditional Tales of the English and Scottish Peasantry - 1887.djvu/88

84 and said, "Did I ever think I should behold the son of my soothfast friend, Hebron Kirkpatrick, going to glorify God's name at the head of a band of daily brawlers and paid stabbers? His horse's feet shall pass over this frail body first." And he bent himself down at the feet of the minister's horse, with his grey locks nearly touching the dust.

At this unexpected address and remarkable action, Joel Kirkpatrick wakened as from a reverie of despondency, and lighting from his horse, took the old man in his arms with looks of concern and affection. The multitude was hushed while the minister said, "May my head be borne by the scoffer to the grave, and my name serve for a proverb of shame and reproach, if I step another step this day other than thou willest. Thou hast long been an exemplar and a guide to me, John Halberson; and, though God's appointed preacher, and called to the tending of His flock, be assured I will have thy sanction, else my ministry may be barren of fruit." The venerable old man gazed on the young preacher with the light of gladness in his eyes, and taking his hand, said: "Joel Kirkpatrick, heed my words. I question not the authority of the voice permitted by Him whom we serve to call thee to His ministry. The word of the multitude is not always with the wisest, nor the cry of the people with the sound divine and the gifted preacher. I push thee not forward, neither do I pluck thee back; but surely, surely, young man of God, He never ordained the glory of His blessed Kirk to be sustained by the sword, and that he whom He called should come blowing the trumpet against it. Much do I fear for the honour of that ministry which is entered upon with banner and brand." As John Halberson spoke, a sudden light seemed to break upon the preacher: he motioned the soldiers back, and taking off his hat, advanced firmly and meekly down the avenue towards the kirk-door, one time busied in silent prayer, another time endeavouring to address the multitude.

"Hear him not," said one matron; "for he comes schooled from the university of guile and deceit; and his words, sweet as honey in the mouth, may prove bitter in the belly, even as wormwood." "I say, hear him, hear him!" said another matron, shaking her Bible at her neighbour's head, to enforce submission. "Ye think him bitterer than the gourd, but he will be sweeter than the honey-comb." "Absolve thee," said one old man, the garrulity of age