The Heart of Mid-Lothian - Penn State University

Mr. Deans, with a gravity that seemed intended to cut
short the subject; but a woman who is bent upon a point
is not easily pushed aside from it.
“And,” continued Mrs. Butler, “he can wag his head
in a pulpit now, neibor Deans, think but of that—my
ain oe—and a’body maun sit still and listen to him, as
if he were the Paip of Rome.”
“The what?—the who?—woman!” said Deans, with a
sternness far beyond his usual gravity, as soon as these offensive
words had struck upon the tympanum of his ear.
“Eh, guide us!” said the poor woman; “I had forgot
what an ill will ye had aye at the Paip, and sae had my
puir gudeman, Stephen Butler. Mony an afternoon he
wad sit and take up his testimony again the Paip, and
again baptizing of bairns, and the like.”
“Woman!” reiterated Deans, “either speak about what
ye ken something o’, or be silent; I say that independency
is a foul heresy, and anabaptism a damnable and deceiving
error, whilk suld be rooted out of the land wi’ the fire
o’ the spiritual, and the sword o’ the civil magistrate.”
“Weel, weel, neibor, I’ll no say that ye mayna be right,”
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answered the submissive Judith. “I am sure ye are right
about the sawing and the mawing, the shearing and the
leading, and what for suld ye no be right about kirkwark,
too?—But concerning my oe, Reuben Butler—”
“Reuben Butler, gudewife,” said David, with solemnity,
“is a lad I wish heartily weel to, even as if he were
mine ain son—but I doubt there will be outs and ins in
the track of his walk. I muckle fear his gifts will get the
heels of his grace. He has ower muckle human wit and
learning, and thinks as muckle about the form of the
bicker as he does about the healsomeness of the food—
he maun broider the marriage-garment with lace and
passments, or it’s no gude eneugh for him. And it’s like
he’s something proud o’ his human gifts and learning,
whilk enables him to dress up his doctrine in that fine
airy dress. But,” added he, at seeing the old woman’s
uneasiness at his discourse, “affliction may gie him a
jagg, and let the wind out o’ him, as out o’ a cow that’s
eaten wet clover, and the lad may do weel, and be a burning
and a shining light; and I trust it will be yours to
see, and his to feel it, and that soon.”