Hugh sat looking at David， who supported the look with that perfect calmness that comes of unconscious simplicity. At length Hugh's eye sank before David's， as he said：
"I wish I had known your father， then， David.""My father was sic a ane as I tauld ye the ither day， Mr. Sutherlan'. I'm a' richt there. A puir， semple， God-fearin' shepherd， 'at never gae his dog an ill-deserved word， nor took the skin o' ony puir lammie， wha's woo' he was clippin'， atween the shears. He was weel worthy o' the grave 'at he wan till at last.
An' my mither was jist sic like， wi' aiblins raither mair heid nor my father. They're her beuks maistly upo' the skelf there abune yer ain， Mr. Sutherlan'. I honour them for her sake， though I seldom trouble them mysel'. She gae me a kin' o' a scunner at them， honest woman， wi' garrin' me read at them o' Sundays， till they near scomfisht a' the guid 'at was in me by nater. There's doctrine for ye， Mr. Sutherlan'！" added David， with a queer laugh.
"I thought they could hardly be your books，" said Hugh.
"But I hae ae odd beuk， an' that brings me upo' my pedigree， Mr. Sutherlan'； for the puirest man has as lang a pedigree as the greatest， only he kens less aboot it， that's a'. An' I wat， for yer lords and ladies， it's no a' to their credit 'at's tauld o' their hither-come； an' that's a' against the breed， ye ken. A wilfu' sin in the father may be a sinfu' weakness i' the son； an' that's what Ica' no fair play."
So saying， David went to his bedroom， whence he returned with a very old-looking book， which he laid on the table before Hugh. He opened it， and saw that it was a volume of Jacob B渉men， in the original language. He found out afterwards， upon further inquiry， that it was in fact a copy of the first edition of his first work， The Aurora， printed in 1612. On the title-page was written a name， either in German or old English character， he was not sure which；but he was able to read it--Martin Elginbrodde. David， having given him time to see all this， went on：
"That buik has been in oor family far langer nor I ken. I needna say I canna read a word o't， nor I never heard o' ane 'at could.
But I canna help tellin' ye a curious thing， Mr. Sutherlan'， in connexion wi' the name on that buik： there's a gravestane， a verra auld ane--hoo auld I canna weel mak' out， though I gaed ends-errand to Aberdeen to see't--an' the name upo' that gravestane is Martin Elginbrod， but made mention o' in a strange fashion； an' I'm no sure a'thegither aboot hoo ye'll tak' it， for it soun's rather fearsome at first hearin' o't. But ye'se hae't as I read it：
"'Here lie I， Martin Elginbrodde：
Hae mercy o' my soul， Lord God；
As I wad do， were I Lord God， And ye were Martin Elginbrodde.'"Certainly Hugh could not help a slight shudder at what seemed to him the irreverence of the epitaph， if indeed it was not deserving of a worse epithet. But he made no remark； and， after a moment's pause， David resumed：
"I was unco ill-pleased wi't at the first， as ye may suppose， Mr. Sutherlan'； but， after a while， I begude (began) an' gaed through twa or three bits o' reasonin's aboot it， in this way： By the natur' o't， this maun be the man's ain makin'， this epitaph； for no ither body cud ha' dune't； and he had left it in's will to be pitten upo' the deid-stane， nae doot： I' the contemplation o' deith， a man wad no be lik'ly to desire the perpetuation o' a blasphemy upo' a table o' stone， to stan' against him for centuries i' the face o' God an' man： therefore it cudna ha' borne the luik to him o' the presumptuous word o' a proud man evenin' himsel' wi' the Almichty.
Sae what was't， then， 'at made him mak' it？ It seems to me--though I confess， Mr. Sutherlan'， I may be led astray by the nateral desire 'at a man has to think weel o' his ain forbears--for 'at he was a forbear o' my ain， I canna weel doot， the name bein' by no means a common ane， in Scotland ony way--I'm sayin'， it seems to me， that it's jist a darin' way， maybe a childlike way， o' judgin'， as Job micht ha' dune， 'the Lord by himsel'；' an' sayin'， 'at gin he， Martin Elginbrod， wad hae mercy， surely the Lord was not less mercifu' than he was. The offspring o' the Most High was， as it were， aware o' the same spirit i' the father o' him， as muved in himsel'. He felt 'at the mercy in himsel' was ane o' the best things； an' he cudna think 'at there wad be less o't i' the father o' lichts， frae whom cometh ilka guid an' perfeck gift. An' may be he remembered 'at the Saviour himsel' said： 'Be ye perfect as your father in Heaven is perfect；' and that the perfection o' God， as He had jist pinted oot afore， consisted in causin' his bonny sun to shine on the evil an' the good， an' his caller rain to fa' upo' the just an' the unjust."It may well be doubted whether David's interpretation of the epitaph was the correct one. It will appear to most of my readers to breathe rather of doubt lighted up by hope， than of that strong faith which David read in it. But whether from family partiality， and consequent unwillingness to believe that his ancestor had been a man who， having led a wild， erring， and evil life， turned at last towards the mercy of God as his only hope， which the words might imply； or simply that he saw this meaning to be the best； this was the interpretation which David had adopted.
"But，" interposed Hugh， "supposing he thought all that， why should he therefore have it carved on his tombstone？""I hae thocht aboot that too，" answered David. "For ae thing， a body has but feow ways o' sayin' his say to his brithermen. Robbie Burns cud do't in sang efter sang； but maybe this epitaph was a' that auld Martin was able to mak'. He michtna hae had the gift o' utterance.
