'Small consolation that.'
'Sma' eneuch,' responded Robert. 'I cudna help thinkin' I kent mony
a tyke (dog) that God had made wi' mair o' what I wad ca' the divine
natur' in him nor a' that Dr. Soulis made oot to be in God himsel'.
He had no ill intentions wi' us--it amuntit to that. He wasna
ill-willy, as the bairns say. But the doctor had some sair wark, I
thoucht, to mak that oot, seein' we war a' the children o' wrath,
accordin' to him, born in sin, and inheritin' the guilt o' Adam's
first trespass. I dinna think Dr. Soulis cud say that God had dune
the best he cud for 's. But he never tried to say onything like
that. He jist made oot that he was a verra respectable kin' o' a
God, though maybe no a'thing we micht wuss. We oucht to be thankfu'
that he gae's a wee blink o' a chance o' no bein' brunt to a'
eternity, wi' nae chance ava. I dinna say that he said that, but
that's what it a' seemed to me to come till. He said a hantle aboot
the care o' Providence, but a' the gude that he did seemed to me to
be but a haudin' aff o' something ill that he had made as weel. Ye
wad hae thocht the deevil had made the warl', and syne God had
pitten us intil 't, and jist gied a bit wag o' 's han' whiles to
haud the deevil aff o' 's whan he was like to destroy the breed
a'thegither. For the grace that he spak aboot, that was less nor
the nature an' the providence. I cud see unco little o' grace intil
't.'
Here Ericson broke in--fearful, apparently, lest his boyfriend
should be actually about to deny the God in whom he did not himself
believe.
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