“But what will you do with the Scripture?” asked Wallerton. “It says, ‘Whom He did foreknow, He did predestinate.’ Now what does predestinate mean?”
“I don’t know,” cried father Grimshaw, giving way to a feeling closely related to anger, “but there ain’t no predestination in it—not a bit of it.”
“If there is not,” replied Wallerton, “I should like to know where to find it.”
“You’ll find it no where, but in the Presbyterian Confession of Faith,” cried the old man.
“Well, I am convinced,” said Wallerton, “that it is the true doctrine. I love to believe it too, because I can see that there is more comfort in it than in the other.”
“What comfort is there in it?” cried the old man, raising his hand in holy horror.
“Why just this,” replied Wallerton, “I am trying to serve God. It does me good, then, to think that I have been elected from all eternity to salvation, and, therefore I can never perish.”
“If you believe that,” exclaimed the old man, “then go on, and sin as much as you please. You’ll be saved anyhow.”
“But I do not want to sin,” replied Wallerton, looking at him in surprise. “That is the very thing I pray God to deliver me from. Instead of desiring to sin, I pray to become more holy. I do not ask God to save me in my sins, but from them. I should think I would make a poor return of gratitude to God, if He should give me the evidence of my election, and I should say to Him, I will, then, serve the devil. What sort of religion is that?”