"I can desire no more," answered James, "for until the Lord lat ye see a thing, hoo can you or I or onybody see the thing that _he_ maun see first! And what is there for us to desire, but to see things as God sees them, and would hae us see them? I used to think the soutar a puir fule body whan he was sayin the vera things I'm tryin to say noo! I saw nae mair what he was efter than that puir collie there at my feet--maybe no half sae muckle, for wha can tell what he mayna be thinkin, wi' that far awa luik o' his!"
"Div ye think, Jeames, that ever we'll be able to see inside thae doggies, and ken what they're thinkin?"
"I wouldna won'er what we mayna come til; for ye ken Paul says, 'A'
things are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's!' Wha can tell but the vera herts o' the doggies may ae day lie bare and open to _oor_ herts, as to the hert o' Him wi' whom they and we hae to do! Eh, but the thouchts o' a doggie maun be a won'erfu' sicht! And syne to think o' the thouchts o' Christ aboot that doggie! We'll ken them, I daurna weel doobt, some day! I'm surer aboot that nor aboot kennin the thouchts o' the doggie himsel!"
Another Sunday night, having come home through a terrible storm of thunder and lightning, he said to Isy--
"I hae been feelin, a' the w'y hame, as gien, afore lang, I micht hae to gie a wider testimony. The apostles and the first Christians, ye see, had to beir testimony to the fac' that the man that was hangt and dee'd upo the cross, the same was up again oot o' the grave, and gangin aboot the warl; noo I canna beir testimony to that, for I wasna at that time awaur o' onything; but I might weel be called upon to beir testimony to the fac' that, whaur ance he lay deid and beeried, there he's come alive at last--that is, i' the sepulchre o' my hert! For I hae seen him noo, and ken him noo--the houp o' glory in my hert and my life! Whatever he said ance, that I believe for ever."
The talks James Blatherwick and the soutar had together, were now, according to Mr. Robertson, even wonderful. But it was chiefly the soutar that spoke, while James sat and listened in silence. On one occasion, however, James had spoken out freely, and indeed eloquently; and Mr. Robertson, whom the soutar accompanied to his inn that night, had said to him ere they parted--
"Do you see any good and cogent reason, Mr. MacLear, why this man should not resume his pastoral office?"
"One thing at least I am sure of," answered the soutar, "--that he is far fitter for it than ever he was in his life before."
Mr. Robertson repeated this to James the next day, adding--
"And I am certain every one who knows you will vote the restoration of your licence!"
"I must speak to Isy about it," answered James with simplicity.
"That is quite right, of course," rejoined Mr. Robertson: "you know I tell my wife everything that I am at liberty to tell."
"Will not some public recognition of my reinstatement be necessary?"
suggested James.
"I will have a talk about it with some of the leaders of the synod, and let you know what they say," answered Mr. Robertson.
"Of course I am ready," returned Blatherwick, "to make any public confession judged necessary or desirable; but that would involve my wife; and although I know perfectly that she will be ready for anything required of her, it remains not the less my part to do my best to shield her!"
"Of one thing I think you may be sure--that, with our present moderator, your case will be handled with more than delicacy--with tenderness!"
"I must not doubt it; but for myself I would deprecate indulgence. I must have a talk with my wife about it! She is sure to know what will be best!"
"My advice is to leave it all in the hands of the moderator. We have no right to choose, appoint, or apportion our own penalties!"
James went home and laid the whole matter before his wife.
Instead of looking frightened, or even anxious, Isy laid little Peter softly in his crib, threw her arms round James's neck, and cried--
"Thank God, my husband, that you have come to this! Don't think to leave me out, I beg of you. I am more than ready to accept my shame. I have always said _I_ was to blame, and not you! It was me that should have known better!"
"You trusted me, and I proved quite unworthy of your confidence!--But had ever man a wife to be so proud of as I of you!"
Mr. Robertson brought the matter carefully before the synod; but neither James nor Isy ever heard anything more of it--except the announcement of the cordial renewal of James's licence. This was soon followed by the offer of a church in the poorest and most populous parish north of the Tweed.
"See the loving power at the heart of things, Isy!" said James to his wife: "out of evil He has brought good, the best good, and nothing but good!--a good ripened through my sin and selfishness and ambition, bringing upon you as well as me disgrace and suffering! The evil in me had to come out and show itself, before it could be cleared away! Some people nothing but an earthquake will rouse from their dead sleep: I was one of such. God in His mercy brought on the earthquake: it woke me and saved me from death. Ignorant creatures go about asking why God permits evil: _we_ know why! It may be He could with a word cause evil to cease--but would that be to create good? The word might make us good like oxen or harmless sheep, but would that be a goodness worthy of him who was made in the image of God? If a man ceased to be _capable_ of evil, he must cease to be a man! What would the goodness be that could not help being good--that had no choice in the matter, but must be such because it was so made? God chooses to be good, else he would not be God: man must choose to be good, else he cannot be the son of God!
Herein we see the grand love of the Father of men--that he gives them a share, and that share as necessary as his own, in the making of themselves! Thus, and thus only, that is, by willing the good, can they become 'partakers of the divine nature!' Satan said, 'Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil!' God says, 'Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil, and choosing the good.' For the sake of this, that we may come to choose the good, all the discipline of the world exists. God is teaching us to know good and evil in some real degree _as they are_, and not as _they seem to the incomplete_; so shall we learn to choose the good and refuse the evil. He would make his children see the two things, good and evil, in some measure as they are, and then say whether they will be good children or not. If they fail, and choose the evil, he will take yet harder measures with them. If at last it should prove possible for a created being to see good and evil as they are, and choose the evil, then, and only then, there would, I presume, be nothing left for God but to set his foot upon him and crush him, as we crush a noxious insect. But God is deeper in us than our own life; yea, God's life is the very centre and creative cause of that life which we call _ours_; therefore is the Life in us stronger than the Death, in as much as the creating Good is stronger than the created Evil."
THE END