front of which he was seated, and, after refreshing himself with a pinch
of snuff, adjust his horn-rimmed spectacles and stare, with a seriousness
which to me was somewhat disquieting, at the little English boy who had
found his way into his presence. Kind they were without exception, these
simple homely folk; but their gravity was hardly to be measured. Stern
Calvinists to a man and a woman, the world was clearly to them no
playground, no place for the frivolous pursuit of pleasure; and even the
innocent sports of a child seemed to jar on their sense of the fitness of
things.

It was on Sunday, however, that the full severity of the Scotch
Puritanism of that day made itself felt in my inmost soul. Oh, the dreary
monotony of those Sabbaths at St. Andrews! The long, long service and yet
longer sermon in the forenoon, the funereal procession of the
congregation to their homes, the hasty meal, consisting chiefly of tea
and cold, hard-boiled eggs, which took the place of dinner, and the
return within a few minutes to the kirk, where the vitiated atmosphere
left by the morning congregation had not yet passed away. Even when the
second service had come to a close, the solemnities of the day were not
ended, for the Sunday School met in the late afternoon, and remained in
session for a couple of hours. But it was not the public services,
terrible though these were, that formed the most depressing feature of
Sunday in St. Andrews; it was the rigid discipline which pervaded her
home-life. My grandfather, I believe, was looked upon as being somewhat
lax in his religious views, and he was undoubtedly more liberal--perhaps
one might say more advanced--than many of his neighbours. Yet even he had
to render homage to the universal law. So when Sunday came round the
blinds were closely drawn, lest the rays of the sun should dissipate the
gloom befitting the solemn day, whilst no voice in the household was
raised above a sepulchral whisper. Lucky for me was it that I was sent to