“But,” quoth I, “ye needna fash yer heid wi’ the ‘Decrees’
till ye win into Theology. Thae professor bodies hae a wonnerfu’ power o’ explainin’ things awa’.”
“Ay,” says he, “ but it’s either true or it’s no true, and I don’t want it explained awa; the only sister ever I had died when she wis five ’’—the callant here filled up—“ and if such a deevilish doctrine be true I vjud ”
“ Wheesht, wheesht! ” quoth I, for he wis excited, and I feared he micht say something rash under the impulse o’ strong feelin’.
“Noo,” thinks I, “ this is a case for David Whammondso I goes ower to the bookshelf and tak’s doon the precious volume he had legated to me, and turned up the place to learn his views; but the passage, it seems, had puzzled even this saintly man. It wis clear frae the notes he had written his opeenion at different times, and they showed a gradual gatherin’ o’ licht, no’ to say caution, as he advanced in years. These were his several observes on the passage that sae sairly exercised the laddie’s mind—“ A solemn and profound doctrine.” . . . “ A mysterious and kittle question that shouldna be dogmatised aboot.” Then later: “There is naething that I can see to hinder the Almichty electin’ to save a’ infants that dee young.”
Here at last wis a grain o’ comfort for the puir callant wha wis sae sair distressed aboot his infant sister. So efter tellin’ him he wisna to vex like them that had nae hope, and that Dr. Langchaffs wis fully as likely to be wrang as David Whammond, he gaed back to his lessons greatly consoled. But what dae ye think happened next ? I suppose the mair the youthfu’ mind is bent forcibly in ae gate the mair likely it is to spring back the ither wye when the strain is ta’en awa’.
That nicht I wis sittin’ a’ by my lane, ponderin’ ower the
