But
I'm thinkin' it's mair for oor sakes than his ain 'at he cares aboot
his glory. I dinna believe 'at he thinks aboot his glory excep' for
the sake o' the trowth an' men's herts deein' for want o' 't.'
Mrs. Falconer thought for a moment.
'It may be 'at ye're richt, laddie; but ye hae a way o' sayin'
things 'at 's some fearsome.'
'God's nae like a prood man to tak offence, grannie. There's
naething pleases him like the trowth, an' there's naething
displeases him like leein', particularly whan it's by way o'
uphaudin' him. He wants nae sic uphaudin'. Noo, ye say things
aboot him whiles 'at soun's to me fearsome.'
'What kin' o' things are they, laddie?' asked the old lady, with
offence glooming in the background.
'Sic like as whan ye speyk aboot him as gin he was a puir prood
bailey-like body, fu' o' his ain importance, an' ready to be doon
upo' onybody 'at didna ca' him by the name o' 's office--ay
think-thinkin' aboot 's ain glory; in place o' the quaiet, michty,
gran', self-forgettin', a'-creatin', a'-uphaudin', eternal bein',
wha took the form o' man in Christ Jesus, jist that he micht hae 't
in 's pooer to beir and be humblet for oor sakes. Eh, grannie!
think o' the face o' that man o' sorrows, that never said a hard
word till a sinfu' wuman, or a despised publican: was he thinkin'
aboot 's ain glory, think ye? An' we hae no richt to say we ken God
save in the face o' Christ Jesus. Whatever 's no like Christ is no
like God.
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