otorious lies that I had
framed, and taxed me with them in such a manner that I could in no wise
get off. My cheek burnt, with offence, rather than shame; and he,
thinking he had got the mastery of me, exulted over me most
unmercifully, telling me I was a selfish and conceited blackguard, who
made great pretences towards religious devotion to cloak a disposition
tainted with deceit, and that it would not much astonish him if I
brought myself to the gallows.

I gathered some courage from his over-severity, and answered him as
follows: "Who made thee a judge of the actions or dispositions of the
Almighty's creatures--thou who art a worm and no man in his sight? How
it befits thee to deal out judgments and anathemas! Hath he not made
one vessel to honour, and another to dishonour, as in the case with
myself and thee? Hath he not builded his stories in the heavens, and
laid the foundations thereof in the earth, and how can a being like
thee judge between good and evil, that are both subjected to the
workings of his hand; or of the opposing principles in the soul of man,
correcting, modifying, and refining one another?"

I said this with that strong display of fervour for which I was
remarkable at my years, and expected old Barnet to be utterly
confounded; but he only shook his head, and, with the most provoking
grin, said: "There he goes! Sickan sublime and ridiculous sophistry I
never heard come out of another mouth but ane. There needs nae aiths to
be sworn afore the session wha is your father, young goodman. I ne'er,
for my part, saw a son sac like a dad, sin' my een first opened." With
that he went away, saying with an ill-natured wince: "You made to
honour and me to dishonour! Dirty bow-kail thing that thou be'st!"

"I will have the old rascal on the hip for this, if I live," thought I.
So I went and asked my mother if John was a righteous man. She could
not tell, but supposed he was, and therefore I got no encouragement
from her. I went next to my reverend father, and inquired his opinion,
expecting as little from that quarter. He knew the elect as it were by
instinct, and could have told you of all those in his own, and some
neighbouring parishes, who were born within the boundaries of the
covenant of promise, and who were not.

"I keep a good deal in company with your servant, old Barnet, father,"
said I.

"You do, boy, you do, I see," said he.

"I wish I may not keep too much in his company," said I, "not kn