The Rev. Z. Pringle,
D.D., to Mr. Micklewham, Schoolmaster and
Session-Clerk, Garnock
London.
London.
Dear Sir—I have been much longer of replying to your
letter of the 3rd of last month, than I ought in civility to have
been, but really time, in this town of London, runs at a fast
rate, and the day passes before the dark’s done. What
with Mrs. Pringle and her daughter’s concernments, anent
the marriage to Captain Sabre, and the trouble I felt myself
obliged to take in the queen’s affair, I assure you, Mr.
Micklewham, that it’s no to be expressed how I have been
occupied for the last four weeks. But all things must come
to a conclusion in this world. Rachel Pringle is married,
and the queen’s weary trial is brought to an end—upon
the subject and motion of the same, I offer no opinion, for I
made it a point never to read the evidence, being resolved to
stand by the word from the first,
which is clearly and plainly written in the queen’s favour,
and it does not do in a case of conscience to stand on trifles;
putting, therefore, out of consideration the fact libelled, and
looking both at the head and the tail of the proceeding, I was of
a firm persuasion, that all the sculduddery of the business might
have been well spared from the eye of the public, which is of
itself sufficiently prone to keek and kook, in every possible
way, for a glimpse of a black story; and, therefore, I thought it
my duty to stand up in all places against the trafficking that
was attempted with a divine institution. And I think, when
my people read how their prelatic enemies, the bishops (the
heavens defend the poor Church of Scotland from being subjected
to the weight of their paws), have been visited with a
constipation of the understanding on that point, it must to them
be a great satisfaction to know how clear and collected their
minister was on this fundamental of society. For it has
turned out, as I said to Mrs. Pringle, as well as others, it
would do, that a sense of grace and religion would be manifested
in some quarter before all was done, by which the devices for an
unsanctified repudiation or divorce would be set at nought.
As often as I could, deeming it my duty as a minister of the
word and gospel, I got into the House of Lords, and heard the
trial; and I cannot think how ever it was expected that justice
could be done yonder; for although no man could be more attentive
than I was, every time I came away I was more confounded than
when I went; and when the trial was done, it seemed to me just to
be clearing up for a proper beginning—all which is a proof
that there was a foul conspiracy. Indeed, when I saw Duke
Hamilton’s daughter coming out of the coach with the queen,
I never could think after, that a lady of her degree would have
countenanced the queen had the matter laid to her charge been as
it was said. Not but in any circumstance it behoved a lady
of that ancient and royal blood, to be seen beside the queen in
such a great historical case as a trial.
I hope, in the part I have taken, my people will be satisfied;
but whether they are satisfied or not, my own conscience is
content with me. I was in the House of Lords when her
majesty came down for the last time, and saw her handed up the
stairs by the usher of the black-rod, a little stumpy man,
wonderful particular about the rules of the House, insomuch that
he was almost angry with me for stopping at the stair-head.
The afflicted woman was then in great spirits, and I saw no
symptoms of the swelled legs that Lord Lauderdale, that jooking
man, spoke about, for she skippit up the steps like a
lassie. But my heart was wae for her when all was over, for
she came out like an astonished creature, with a wild steadfast
look, and a sort of something in the face that was as if the
rational spirit had fled away; and she went down to her coach as
if she had submitted to be led to a doleful destiny. Then
the shouting of the people began, and I saw and shouted too in
spite of my decorum, which I marvel at sometimes, thinking it
could be nothing less than an involuntary testification of the
spirit within me.
Anent the marriage of Rachel Pringle, it may be needful in me
to state, for the satisfaction of my people, that although by
stress of law we were obligated to conform to the practice of the
Episcopalians, by taking out a bishop’s license, and going
to their church, and vowing, in a pagan fashion, before their
altars, which are an abomination to the Lord; yet, when the young
folk came home, I made them stand up, and be married again before
me, according to all regular marriages in our national
Church. For this I had two reasons: first, to satisfy
myself that there had been a true and real marriage; and,
secondly, to remove the doubt of the former ceremony being
sufficient; for marriage being of divine appointment, and the
English form and ritual being a thing established by Act of
Parliament, which is of human ordination, I was not sure that
marriage performed according to a human enactment could be a
fulfilment of a divine ordinance. I therefore hope that my
people will approve what I have done; and in order that there may
be a sympathising with me, you will go over to Banker M---y, and
get what he will give you, as ordered by me, and distribute it
among the poorest of the parish, according to the best of your
discretion, my long absence having taken from me the power of
judgment in a matter of this sort. I wish indeed for the
glad sympathy of my people, for I think that our Saviour turning
water into wine at the wedding, was an example set that we should
rejoice and be merry at the fulfilment of one of the great
obligations imposed on us as social creatures; and I have ever
regarded the unhonoured treatment of a marriage occasion as a
thing of evil bodement, betokening heavy hearts and light purses
to the lot of the bride and bridegroom. You will hear more
from me by and by; in the meantime, all I can say is, that when
we have taken our leave of the young folks, who are going to
France, it is Mrs. Pringle’s intent, as well as mine, to
turn our horses’ heads northward, and make our way with
what speed we can, for our own quiet home, among you. So no
more at present from your friend and pastor,
Z.
Pringle.
Mrs. Tod, the mother of Miss Isabella, a respectable widow
lady, who had quiescently joined the company, proposed that they
should now drink health, happiness, and all manner of prosperity,
to the young couple; and that nothing might be wanting to secure
the favourable auspices of good omens to the toast, she desired
Miss Isabella to draw fresh bottles of white and red. When
all manner of felicity was duly wished in wine to the captain and
his lady, the party rose to seek their respective homes.
But a bustle at the street-door occasioned a pause. Mrs.
Tod inquired the matter; and three or four voices at once
replied, that an express had come from Garnock for Nanse Swaddle
the midwife, Mrs. Craig being taken with her pains.
“Mr. Snodgrass,” said Mrs. Glibbans, instantly and
emphatically, “ye maun let me go with you, and we can
spiritualise on the road; for I hae promis’t Mrs. Craig to
be wi’ her at the crying, to see the upshot—so I hope
you will come awa.”
It would be impossible in us to suppose, that Mr. Snodgrass
had any objections to spiritualise with Mrs. Glibbans on the road
between Irvine and Garnock; but, notwithstanding her urgency, he
excused himself from going with her; however, he recommended her
to the special care and protection of Mr. Micklewham, who was at
that time on his legs to return home. “Oh! Mr.
Snodgrass,” said the lady, looking slyly, as she adjusted
her cloak, at him and Miss Isabella, “there will be
marrying and giving in marriage till the day of
judgment.” And with these oracular words she took her
departure.
