“Well,” said the doctor thoughtfully, “there is a great deal, I am sure, in what you say, and I think my dear wife and myself are getting round to be pretty much of one mind with you now on these important matters.”
It was with much regret that Dr Prosser and his wife took their leave of the vicarage and its inmates on the first of May. It was a lovely morning, combining all the vigorous freshness of spring with the mature warmth of summer. As the doctor and the vicar strolled down to the station, leaving Mrs Prosser to ride down with the luggage, they encountered Thomas Bradly, who was also on his way to the line.
“Good morning, Thomas,” said Mr Maltby; “do you know how Edward Taylor is to-day?”
“Badly enough in body, sir,” replied Bradly; “but I believe the Lord’s blessing this trouble to his soul, and so he’s bringing good out of evil.—And so I suppose we’re to lose Dr Prosser. Well, I’m sorry for it, for all the working-men I’ve talked with was greatly set up with the lecture he gave us in the Town Hall the other night, and we were hoping he’d give us another.”
“We must get him to run down and favour us again when the autumn comes round,” said Mr Maltby.
“That I shall be charmed to do,” replied the doctor. “It was quite refreshing to speak td such an audience. They don’t leave one in any doubt about their understanding and appreciating what is said to them.”
“That’s true, sir,” said Bradly, “and that makes it all the more important they should listen to them as can show them as Scripture and science come from the same God, and so can’t possibly contradict one another; and that’s what you did, and I was very thankful to hear you do it.”
“I am glad that I made that clear,” said the doctor.
“Yes, you did, sir; and I’m so glad you did it without any ‘ifs’ and ‘buts.’ Why, we had a chap here the other day—the vicar weren’t at home at the time—and he puts out bills to say as he were going to give a popular lecture on the Evidences of Christianity, Historical, Geographical, and I don’t know what besides. It were put about too as he were an able man, and a Christian man, and so me and some of my friends went to hear him. But, bless you, he couldn’t go straight at his subject, but he must be making all sorts of apologies, he was so precious fearful of speaking too strongly in favour of the Word of God and the gospel, and lest he should be uncharitable to them as didn’t see just as he did; and he were full of compliments to this sceptical writer and that sceptical writer, and told us all their chief objections, and was so anxious to be candid, and not put his own opinions too strongly, that most of us began to think as the lecture ought to have been called a lecture against the evidences of Christianity. I’m sure, for one who remembered what he said in favour of the Bible there’d be a dozen as would just carry home the objections, and forget the little as was said on the other side. Indeed, it reminded me of Bobby Hunt’s flower-garden. But I ax your pardon, sir; I mustn’t be taking up more of your time.”
“Oh, go on by all means,” said Dr Prosser, laughing; “I want to hear your illustration from Bobby Hunt’s flower-garden.”