I started, and looked round. Close behind me stood the tall figure of a man, dressed in raiment of quaint and singular fashion, but of goodly materials. He was in the prime and vigour of manhood; his features handsome and noble, but full of calmness and benevolence; at least I thought so, though they were somewhat shaded by a hat of finest beaver, with broad drooping eaves. [148]
“Surely that is a very cruel diversion in which thou indulgest, my young friend?” he continued.
“I am sorry for it, if it be, sir,” said I, rising; “but I do not think it cruel to fish.”
“What are thy reasons for not thinking so?”
“Fishing is mentioned frequently in Scripture. Simon Peter was a fisherman.”
“True; and Andrew and his brother. But thou forgettest: they did not follow fishing as a diversion, as I fear thou doest.—Thou readest the Scriptures?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?—not daily?—that is to be regretted. What profession dost thou make?—I mean to what religious denomination dost thou belong, my young friend?”
“Church.”
“It is a very good profession—there is much of Scripture contained in its liturgy. Dost thou read aught besides the Scriptures?”