SEARCHING THE SCRIPTURES

Around the evening lamp that winter the little boys studied Holy Writ, while Allan made summaries of it for the edification of the proud grandfather in far-off Florida.

Tersely was the creation and the fall of man set forth, under promptings and suggestions from Clytie and Cousin Bill J., who was no mean Bible authority:  how God, “walking in the garden in the cool of the day,” found his first pair ashamed of their nakedness, and with his own hands made them coats of skins and clothed them.  “What a treasure those garments would be in this evil day,” said Clytie ­“what a silencing rebuke to all heretics!” But the Lord drove out the wicked pair, lest they “take also of the tree of life and live forever,” saying, “Behold, the man is become as one of us!” This provoked a lengthy discussion the very first evening as to whether it meant that there was more than one God.  And Clytie’s view ­that God called himself “Us” in the same sense that kings and editors of newspapers do ­at length prevailed over the polytheistic hypothesis of Cousin Bill J.

On they read to the Deluge, when man became so very bad indeed that God was sorry for ever having made him, and said:  “I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth; both man and the beast and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air, for it repenteth me that I have made them.”

Hereupon Bernal suggested that all the white rabbits at least should have been saved ­thinking of his own two in the warm nest in the barn.  He was unable to see how white rabbits with twitching pink noses and pink rims around their eyes could be an offense, or, indeed, other than a pure joy even to one so good as God.  But he gave in, with new admiration for the ready mind of Cousin Bill J., who pointed out that white rabbits could not have been saved because they were not fish.  He even relished the dry quip that maybe he, the little boy, thought white rabbits were fish; but Cousin Bill J. didn’t, for his part.

Past the Tower of Babel they went, when the Lord “came down to see the city and the tower,” and made them suddenly talk strange tongues to one another so they could not build their tower actually into Heaven.

The little boy thought this a fine joke to play on them, to set them all “jabbering” so.

After that there was a great deal of fighting, and, in the language of Allan’s summary, “God loved all the good people so he gave them lots of wives and cattle and sheep and he let them go out and kill all the other people they wanted to which was their enemies.”  But the little boy found the butcheries rather monotonous.

Occasionally there was something graphic enough to excite, as where the heads of Ahab’s seventy children were put into a basket and exposed in two heaps at the city’s gate; but for the most part it made him sleepy.

True, when it came to getting the Children of Israel out of Egypt, as Cousin Bill J. observed, “Things brisked up considerable.”

The plan of first hardening Pharaoh’s heart, then scaring him by a pestilence, then again hardening his heart for another calamity, quite won the little boy’s admiration for its ingenuity, and even Cousin Bill J. would at times betray that he was impressed.  Feverishly they followed the miracles done to Egypt; the plague of frogs, of lice, of flies, of boils and blains on man and beast; the plague of hail and lightning, of locusts, and the three days of darkness.  Then came the Lord’s final triumph, which was to kill all the first-born in the land of Egypt, “from the first-born of Pharaoh, that sitteth upon the throne, even unto the first-born of the maid-servant that is behind the mill; and all the first-born of beasts.”  Again the little boy’s heart ached as he thought pityingly of the first-born of all white rabbits, but there was too much of excitement to dwell long upon that humble tragedy.  There was the manner in which the Israelites identified themselves, by marking their doors with a sprig of hyssop dipped in the blood of a male lamb without blemish.  Vividly did he see the good God gliding cautiously from door to door, looking for the mark of blood, and passing the lucky doors where it was seen to be truly of a male lamb without blemish.  He thought it must have taken a lot of lambs to mark up all the doors!

Then came that master-stroke of enterprise, when God directed Moses to “speak now in the ears of the people and let every man borrow of his neighbour, and every woman of her neighbour, jewels of silver and jewels of gold,” so that they might “spoil” the Egyptians.  Cousin Bill J. chuckled when he read this, declaring it to be “a regular Jew trick”; but Clytie rebuked him quickly, reminding him that they were God’s own words, spoken in His own holy voice.

“Well, it was mighty thoughtful in God,” insisted Cousin Bill J., but Clytie said, however that was, it served Pharaoh right for getting his heart hardened so often.

The little boy, not perceiving the exact significance of “spoil” in this connection, wondered if Cousin Bill J. would spoil if some one borrowed his gold horse and ran off with it.

Then came that exciting day when the Lord said, “I will get me honour upon Pharaoh and all his host,” which He did by drowning them thoroughly in the Red Sea.  The little boy thought he would have liked to be there in a boat ­a good safe boat that would not tip over; also that he would much like to have a rod such as Aaron had, that would turn into a serpent.  It would be a fine thing to take to school some morning.  But Cousin Bill J. thought it doubtful if one could be procured; though he had seen Heller pour five colours of wine out of a bottle which, when broken, proved to have a live guinea-pig in it.  This seemed to the little boy more wonderful than Aaron’s rod, though he felt it would not reflect honour upon God to say so.

Another evening they spent before Sinai, Cousin Bill J. reading the verses in a severe and loud tone when the voice of the Lord was sounding.  Duly impressed was the little boy with the terrors of the divine presence, a thing so awful that the people must not go up into the mount nor even touch its border ­lest “the Lord break forth upon them:  There shall not a hand touch it but he shall surely be stoned or shot through; whether it be beast or man it shall not live.”  Clytie said the goodness of God was shown herein.  An evil God would not have warned them, and many worthy but ignorant people would have been blasted.

Then He came down in thunder and smoke and lightning and earthquakes ­which Cousin Bill J. read in tones that enabled Bernal to feel every possible joy of terror; came to tell them that He was a very jealous God and that they must not worship any of the other gods.  He commanded that “thou shalt not revile the Gods,” also that they should “make no mention of the names of other Gods,” which Cousin Bill J. said was as fair as you could ask.

When they reached the directions for sacrificing, the little boy was doubly alert ­in the event that he should ever determine to be washed in the blood of the lamb and have to do his own killing.

“Then,” read Cousin Bill J., in a voice meant to convey the augustness of Deity, “thou shalt kill the ram and take of his blood and put it upon the tip of the right ear of Aaron and upon the tip of the right ear of his sons, and upon the thumb of their right hand, and upon the great toe of their right foot.”  So you didn’t have to wash all over in the blood.  He agreed with Clytie, who remarked that no one could ever have found out how to do it right unless God had told.  The God-given directions that ensued for making the water of separation from “the ashes of a red heifer” he did not find edifying; but some verses after that seemed more practicable.  “And thou shalt take of the ram,” continued the reader in majestic cadence, “the fat and the rump and the fat that covereth the inwards, and the caul above the liver, and the two kidneys and the fat that is upon them ­”

Here was detail with a satisfying minuteness; and all this was for “a wave-offering” to be waved before the Lord ­which was indeed an interesting thought.

“If God was so careful of His children in these small matters,” said Clytie; “no wonder they believed He would care for them in graver matters, and no wonder they looked forward so eagerly to the coming of His Son, whom He promised should be sent to save them from His wrath.”

Through God’s succeeding minute directions for the building and upholstery of His tabernacle, “with ten curtains of fine twined linen and blue and purple and scarlet, with cherubims of cunning work shalt thou make them,” the interest of the little boys rather languished; likewise through His regulations about such dry matters as slavery, divorce, and polygamy.  His directions for killing witches and for stoning the ox that gores a man or woman had more of colour in them.  But there was no real interest until the good God promised His children to bring them in unto the Amorites and the Hittites and the Perizzites and the Canaanites, the Hivites and the Jebusites, to “cut them off.”  It was not uninteresting to know that God put Moses in a cleft of the rock and covered it with His hand when He passed by, thus permitting Moses a partial view of the divine person.  But the actual fighting of battles was thereafter the chief source of interest.  For God was a mighty God of battles, never weary of the glories of slaughter.  When it was plain that He could make a handful of two thousand Israelites slay two hundred thousand Midianites, in a moment, as one might say, the wisdom of coming to the Feet, being born again, and washing in the blood ceased to be debatable.  It would seem very silly, indeed, to neglect any precaution that would insure the favour of this God, who slew cities full of men and women and little children off-hand.  The little boy thought Milo Barrus would begin to spell a certain word with the very biggest “G” he could make, if any one were to bring these matters to his notice.

As to Allan, who made abstracts of the winter’s study, Clytemnestra and her transcendent relative agreed that he would one day be a power in the land.  Off to Florida each week they sent his writing to Grandfather Delcher, who was proud of it, in spite of his heart going out chiefly to the littler boy.

“So this is all I know now about God,” ran the conclusion, “except that He loved us so that He gave His only Son to be crucified so that He could forgive our sins as soon as He saw His Son nailed up on the cross, and those that believed it could be with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and those that didn’t believe it, like the Jews and heathens, would have to be in hell for ever and ever Amen.  This proves His great love for us and that He is the true God.  So this is all I have learned this winter about God, who is a spirit infinite eternal and unchangeable in his being, wisdom and power holiness justice goodness and truth, and the word of God is contained in the scriptures of the old and new testament which is the only rule to direct us how we may glorify and enjoy him.  In my next I will take up the meek and lowly Jesus and show you how much I have learned about him.”

They had been unable to persuade the littler boy into this species of composition, his mind dwelling too much on the first-born of white rabbits and such, but to show that his winter was not wholly lost, he submitted a secular composition, which ran: 

“BIRDS

“The Animl kindom is devided into birds and reguler animls.  Our teacher says we had ougt to obsurv so I obsurv there is three kinds of birds Jingle birds Squeek birds and Clatter birds.  Jingle birds has fat rusty stumacks.  I have not the trouble to obsurv any more kinds.”