John Galt,
The Entail; or, The Lairds of Grippy
“ Every thing was calm and in repose, as if Nature herself had hallowed the Sabbath. Mr. Keelevin walked thoughtfully along, the grief of his reflections being gradually subdued by the benevolence of his intentions; but he was a man well stricken in years, and the agitation he had undergone made the way appear to him so long, that he felt himself tired, insomuch that when he came to the bottom of the lane which led to Kilmarkeckle, he sat down to rest himself on the old dike, where Claud himself had sat, on his return from the town, after executing the fatal entail. ”
