Together they began again the study of the Scriptures, the little boy now entering seriously upon that work of writing commentaries which had once engaged Allan. In one of these school-boyish papers the old man came upon a passage that impressed him as notable. It seemed to him that there was not only that vein of poetic imagination—without which one cannot be a great preacher—but a certain individual boldness of approach, monstrous in its naïve sentimentality, to be sure, but indicating a talent that promised to mature splendidly.
"Now Jesus told his disciples," it ran, "that he must be crucified before he could take his seat on the right hand of God and send to hell those who had rejected him. He told them that one of them would have to betray him, because it must be like the Father had said. It says at the last supper Jesus said, 'The Son of Man goeth as it is written of him; but woe unto that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed; it had been good for that man if he had not been born.'
"Now it says that Satan entered into Judas, but it looks to me more like the angel of the Lord might have entered into him, he being a good man to start with, or our Lord would not have chosen him to be a disciple. Judas knew for sure, after the Lord said this, that one of the disciples had got to betray the Saviour and go to hell, where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched. Well, Judas loved all the disciples very much, so he thought he would be the one and save one of the others. So he went out and agreed to betray him to the rulers for thirty pieces of silver. He knew if he didn't do it, it might have to be Peter, James, or John, or some one the Saviour loved very dearly, because it had to be one of them. So after it was done and he knew the others were saved from this foul deed, he went back to the rulers and threw down their money, and went out and hung himself. If he had been a bad man, it seems more like he would have spent that money in wicked indulgences, food and drink and entertainments, etc. Of course, Judas knew he would go to hell for it, so he was not as lucky as Jesus, who knew he would go to heaven and sit at the right hand of God when he died, which was a different matter from Judas's, who would not have any reward at all but going to hell. It looks to me like poor Judas had ought to be brought out of hell-fire, and I shall pray Jesus to do it when he gets around to it."
However it might be with our Lord's betrayer, there was one soul now seen to be deservedly in hell. Through the patient study of the Scriptures as expounded by Grandfather Delcher, the little boy presently found himself accepting without demur the old gentleman's unspoken but sufficiently indicated opinion. His father was in everlasting torment—having been not only unbaptised, but godless and a scoffer. With a quickening sense of the majesty of that Spirit infinitely good, a new apprehension of His plan's symmetry, he read the words meant to explain, to comfort him, silently indicated one day by the old man:
"Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?
"What if God, willing to show His wrath, and to make His power known, endured with much long suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction?
"And that he might make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had afore prepared unto glory."
It hurt at first, but the young mind hardened to it dutifully—the big, laughing, swaggering, scoffing father —a device of God made for torment, that the power of the All-loving might show forth! If the father had only repented, he might have gone straight to heaven as did Cousin Bill J. For the latter had obtained grace in his last days, and now sang acceptably before the thrones of the Father and the Son. But the unbaptised scoffer must burn forever—and the little boy knew at last what was meant by "the majesty of God."
