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injuries with patience; would heal all his wounds with so gentle a touch;—I have seen the old man weep like a child.
The gloom that beset his mind, at times betrayed him into scepticism—he has doubted, if there be a Providence! I have heard him say, "God has built a brave world, but methinks he has left his creatures to bustle in it how they may."
At such times he could not endure to hear my Mother talk in a religious strain. He would say, "Woman, have done—you confound, you perplex me, when you talk of these matters, and for one day at least unfit me for the business of life."
I have
