BLTC Press Titles


available for Kindle at Amazon.com


The Secret Doctrine, Volume I Cosmogenesis

H. P. Blavatsky


The Worm Ouroboros

E. R. Eddison


Some Experiences of an Irish R. M.

Edith Somerville and Martin Ross


Novalis Including Hymns to the Night

Novalis, George MacDonald, Thomas Carlyle


David Elginbrod

by George MacDonald

Excerpt:

BOOK I.

TURRIEPUFFIT.

With him there was a Ploughman, was his brother.

A trew<! swinker, and a good was he,

Ijiving in peace and perfect charity.

God loved he best with all his trewiS heart,

At alle times, were it gain or smart,

And then his neighebonr right as himselve.

Chaucer.—Prologue to the Canterburg Tales.

DAVID ELGINBROD.

CHAPTER I.
THE FIR-WOOD. .

... Of all the flowers in the mead,
Then love I most these flowers white and rede,
Such that men callen daisies in our town.

. . . .1 renne blithe

As soon as ever the sun ginneth west,
To see this flower, how it will go to rest,
For fear of night, so hateth she darkness;
Her cheer is plainly spread in the brightness
Of the sunne, for there it will unclose.

Chaucer.Prologue to the Legend of Good Women.

"meg! whaur are ye gaein' that get, like a wull shuttle? Come in to the beuk."

Meg's mother stood at the cottage door, with arms akimbo and clouded brow, calling through the boles of a little forest of fir-trees after her daughter. One would naturally presume that the phrase she employed, comparing her daughter's motions to those of a shuttle that had "gane wull," or lost its way, implied that she was watching her as she threaded her way through the trees. But although she could not see her, the fir-wood was certainly the likeliest place for her daughter to be in; and the figure she employed was not in the least inapplicable to Meg's usual mode of wandering through the trees, that operation being commonly performed in the most erratic manner possible. It was the ordinary

v

occupation of the first hour of almost every day of Margaret's life. As soon as she woke in the morning, the fir-wood drew her towards it, and she rose and went. Through its crowd of slender pillars, she strayed hither and thither, in an aimless manner, as if resignedly haunting the neighbourhood of something she had lost, or, hopefully, that of a treasure she expected one day to find.

It did not seem that she had heard her mother's call, for no response followed; and Janet Elginbrod returned into the cottage, where David of the same surname, who was already seated at the white deal table with, ""the beuk," or large family bible before him, straightway commenced reading a chapter in the usual routine from the Old Testament, the New being reserved for the evening devotions. The chapter was the fortieth of the prophet Isaiah; and as the voice of the reader re-uttered the words of old inspiration, one might have thought that it was the voice of the ancient prophet himself, pouring forth the expression of his own faith in his expostulations with the unbelief of his brethren. The chapter finished—it is none of the shortest, and Meg had not yet returned—the two knelt, and David prayed thus:

"O Thou who holdest the waters in the hollow of ae han', and earnest the lambs o' thy own making in thy bosom with the other han', it would be altogether unworthy o' thee, and o' thy Maijesty o' love, to require o' us that which thou knowest we cannot bring unto thee, until thou enrich us with that same. Therefore, like thine own bairns, we boo doon afore thee, an' pray that thou wouldst tak' thy wull o' us, thy holy an' perfect an' blessed wull o' us; for, O God, we are a' thine ain. An' for oor lassie, wha's oot amo' thy trees, an' wha' we clinna think forgets her Maker, though she may whiles forget her prayers, Lord, keep her a bonnie lassie in thy sicht, as white and clean in thy een as she is fair an' halesome in oors; an' oh! we thank thee, Father in heaven, for giein' her to us. An' noo, for a' oor wrang-duins an' ill-min'ins, for a' oor sins and trespasses o' mony sorts, dinna forget them, O God, till thou pits them a' richt, an' syne exerceese thy michty power e'en ower thine ain sel, an' clean forget them a'thegither; cast them ahint thy back, whaur e'en thine ain een shall ne'er see them again, that we may walk bold an' upricht afore thee for evermore, an' see the face o' Him wha was a muckle God in doin' thy biddin', as gin he had been orderin' a' thing Ilimsel. For his sake, Ahmen."


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