points out
the glory of His character and of His person as the supreme God and Lord
of all; exhibits Him as the _Maker_ as well as the _Saviour_ of the
world. Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?' said he. I remained silent. 'Is
not that your view of the subject, Mr. Barker?' he added. 'I have no
objections to offer,' I said. This did not seem exactly to satisfy him;
but he went on, and read again. 'And so it is,' said he; 'we are all by
nature as an unclean thing; there is no health in us. How deeply we are
fallen, Mr. Barker! Do you not think so, Mr. Barker?' I made no reply.
He wished to know why I was silent. I said I did not like to be always
talking on those matters,--that I would rather he would read on, and
allow us to think about the chapter at our leisure afterwards. All this
time his wife was dreadfully fidgetty. She wanted to speak to him, but
could not. She wished to catch his attention by her looks, but to no
purpose. The proof of the truth of what I had said was becoming too
strong for her, and she could scarcely sit still on her chair. He
proceeded: 'This,' said he, 'refers to the glory of the Church of Christ
in the latter days, when the Gentiles shall be converted, and the Jews
brought back to their own land. This will be a glorious time, Mr.
Barker. What are your views on this subject, Mr. Barker?' Then he added
some further remarks, concluding with the question, 'Do you not think
so, Mr. Barker?' I now began to laugh: I could hold no longer. 'And do
you laugh at God's holy word?' said he: and a terrible lecture he would
have read me, had not his wife broke out and said, 'Hinney, you are to
blame, you are to blame. You won't let Mr. Barker alone: he would be
silent if you would allow him: you are too bad.' He repeated his
terrible rebuke of my levity, and I began to explain. I told him what
had passed between his wife and me before he came in. I told him all
that I thought about his way of proceeding towards me in those matters,
and he, poor fellow, was completely confounded. I told him that it
seemed to me as if he really took pleasure in tormenting people; as if
he could not be happy unless he thought that he was making other people
miserable,--that he seemed to begrudge those that were around him the
least ease, or quietness, or pleasure, and to wish to keep them on a
perpetual rack. It was his time now to explain and apologize, and what
do you think was the reason he assigned for his proceedings? 'Hinne