n was a reasonable man, and being old, was beginning to try to
look fairly at matters upon which he expected soon to be very thoroughly
examined. The indignant protest of the carpenter had, he feared, a great
deal of reason, and yet--God's people deserved to hold their position,
if, as usual, the argument ended where it began. So he asked, rather
triumphantly:
"What _is_ to be done, then?"
"Reform God's people themselves," replied the carpenter, to the horror
of the pious old man. "When the right hand of fellowship is reached out
to the front, instead of stuck behind the back when a poor man comes
along, there'll be plenty that'll be glad to take it. Reform yer own
people, Deac'n. 'Fore yer pick out of our eyes the motes we'll be glad
enough to get rid of, ye can get a fine lot of heavy lumber out of yer
own."
Soldiers of the Cross, no more than any other soldiers, should stand
still and be peppered when unable to reply; at least so thought the
Deacon, and he prudently withdrew.
Reform God's people themselves! The Deacon was too old a boy to tell
tales out of school, but he knew well enough there was room for reform.
Of course there was--weren't we all poor sinners?--when we would do good
wasn't evil ever present with us?--what business had other sinners to
complain, when they weren't, at least, any better? Besides, suppose he
were to try to reform the ways of Brother Graves and Deacon Struggs and
others he had in his mind--would they rest until they had attempted to
reform _him_? And who was to know just what quantity and quality of
reform was necessary? "Be not carried about with divers and strange
doctrines." The matter was too great for his comprehension, so he obeyed
the injunction, "Commit thy way unto the Lord."
But the Lord relegated the entire matter to the Deacon. Hay did a full
day's work, the Deacon made a neat little sum by recovering on an old
judgment he had bought for a mere song, and the Deacon's red cow made an
addition to the family in the calf-pen; yet the Deacon was far from
comfortable. The idea that certain people must stay away from God's
house until God's people were reformed, seemed to the Deacon's really
human heart something terrible. If they _would_ be so proud--and yet,
people who would stand outside the meeting-house and listen, and pray
and weep because their children were as badly off as they, could
scarcely be very proud. He knew there couldn't be many such, else this
out-of-
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