s, that a clergyman is
nothing but a moral policeman. As such, however, he more resembled one
of Dogberry's watch. He could not even preach hell with any vigour; for
as a gentleman he recoiled from the vulgarity of the doctrine, yielding
only a few feeble words on the subject as a sop to the Cerberus that
watches over the dues of the Bible--quite unaware that his notion of the
doctrine had been drawn from the AEneid, and not from the Bible.

'Well, have you got anything, Robert?' asked Ericson, as he entered his
room.

'Nothing,' answered Robert.

'What was the sermon about?'

'It was all to prove that God is a benevolent being.'

'Not a devil, that is,' answered Ericson. '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.

'Robert,' he said solemnly, 'one thing is certain: if there be a God at
all, he is not like that. If there be a God at all, we shall know him by
his perfection--his grand perfect truth, fairness, love--a love to mak