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Hardcap.: It's mighty high seems to me for a young man to be making of himself out as good as the apostle Paul. Mr. Wheaton.: I like that young Mapleson, and I like his letter. I wish we could get him. Is there any chance of persuading him to come, Mr. Laicus? not as a candidate you know, but just to preach, in good faith like any other man. Mr. Gear shrugs his shoulders.
But Solomon Hardcap would not hear of him, and even Deacon Goodsole shook his head at his suggestion, "He is not social," said the Deacon. "He does not know half the people in Highkrik, where he has been settled for over five years. He often passes his best friend without noticing him, on the street." "Never would do," says Mr. Hardcap. "He only visits his people once a year.
"What's that got to do with it?" said I. "So has Deacon Goodsole; but he's none the worse for that." "We can't afford to support a man with a large family," said Mr. Hardcap. "We must get a young man. We can't possibly afford to pay over $1,200 a year, and we ought not to pay over $1,000." "Oh!" said I; "do we grade the ministers' salaries by the number of the minister's children?"
"Well we have to consider that, of course," said Mr. Hardcap. "Solomon wasn't so wise as he is generally thought to be," said Mr. Gear sarcastically, "or he never would have written that sentence about blessed is he whose quiver is full of them!" "Well," said Mr. Hardcap, "all I've got to say is, if you get a man here with five children you can pay his salary, that's all."
"He hadn't made no profession of religion you know, ma'am," said Mr. Hardcap. "And the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked." Mr. Hardcap is very fond of quoting that text. I wonder if he ever applies it to himself. "It seems kind o' strange now that he should be taken away so sudden like," continued Mr. Hardcap, "without any warnin'. And you know what the Scripture tells us.
"He was such a noble fellow," said Jennie to the weeping mother. She said it softly, but Mr. Hardcap's ears caught the expression. "Nobility, ma'am," said he, "isn't a savin' grace. It's a nateral virtoo. The question is, did he have the savin' grace of faith and repentance?" "I believe," said Mrs. Gear, earnestly, "that Willie was a Christian, if ever there was one, Mr. Hardcap."
"Says he hates it awfully," said his mother. "Such," said Mr. Hardcap, "is the dreadful depravity of the human heart. It is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." It was quite idle to argue with Mr. Hardcap. We left him unconvinced, and I doubt not he is still reading his three chapters a day and five on Sunday.
What is it in me that makes me always appreciate most keenly the ludicrous in seasons of the greatest solemnity and distress? The absurdity of his misapplication of the sacred text mingled horribly with a sense of the insupportable anguish I knew he was causing. And yet I knew not how to interfere. "I hope he was prepared," said Mr. Hardcap. "I hope so," said Mr. Gear quietly.
"I will," said he; "but if it's in the Bible I have no doubt it is true, no doubt whatever." But in spite of Mr. Hardcap, the Wheathedge library flourished; and next week our new quarters are to be dedicated to the cause of literature and temperance by a public meeting.
"And that's the reason I came to you first. In fact I do not want you to join my Bible class. I have not got any Bible class as yet, I want you to join me in getting one up." Mr. Gear smiled incredulously. "You had better get Deacon Goodsole," said he, "or," and the smile changed from a goodnatured to a sarcastic one, "or Mr. Hardcap."
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