“Well, Sir, take generosity and good temper,” urged Angus. “Do you not see much of these in men who, as Mr Whitefield would say, are worldly and ungodly?”
“I often see the Lord’s restraining grace,” answered my Uncle, quietly; “but am I to give the credit of it to those whom He restrains?”
“But think you, Sir, that it is wise—” Angus paused.
“Go on, my boy,” said my Uncle. “I like you to speak out, like an honest man. By all means have courage to own your convictions. If they be right ones, you may so have them confirmed; and if they be wrong, you stand in better case to have them put right.”
I did not think Angus looked quite comfortable. He hesitated a moment, and then, I suppose, came out with what he had meant to say.
“Think you not, Sir, that it is wise to leave unsaid such things as offend people, and make them turn away from preaching? Should we not be careful to avoid offence?”
“Unnecessary offence,” saith my Uncle. “But the offence of the cross is precisely that which we are warned not to avoid. ‘Not with wisdom of words,’ saith the Apostle, ‘lest the cross of Christ should be made of none effect.’ In his eyes, ‘then is the offence of the cross ceased,’ was sufficient to condemn the preaching whereof he spoke. And that policy of keeping back truth is the Devil’s policy; ’tis Jesuitical. ‘Will ye speak wickedly for God, and talk deceitfully for Him?’ ‘Shall the throne of iniquity have fellowship with Thee?’ Never, Angus: never!”
“But our Lord Himself seems to have kept things back from His disciples,” pleaded Angus, uneasily.
“Yes, what they were not ready for and could not yet understand. But never that which offended them. He offended them terribly when He told them that the Son of Man was about to be crucified. So did the Jesuits to the Chinese: and when they found the offence, they altered their policy, and said the story of the crucifixion was an invention of Christ’s enemies. Did He?”
Angus made no answer: and breakfast being over, we separated to our several work.