"No," said my pastor, and father (as I shall henceforth
denominate him). "No, Barnet, he is a wonderful boy; and no
marvel, for I have prayed for these talents to be bestowed on him
from his infancy: and do you think that Heaven would refuse a
prayer so disinterested? No, it is impossible. But my dread is,
madam," continued he, turning to my mother, "that he is yet in
the bond of iniquity."
"God forbid!" said my mother.
"I have struggled with the Almighty long and hard," continued
he; "but have as yet no certain token of acceptance in his behalf, I
have indeed fought a hard fight, but have been repulsed by him
who hath seldom refused my request; although I cited his own
words against him, and endeavoured to hold him at his promise,
he hath so many turnings in the supremacy of his power, that I
have been rejected. How dreadful is it to think of our darling
being still without the pale of the covenant! But I have vowed a
vow, and in that there is hope."
My heart quaked with terror when I thought of being still living
in a state of reprobation, subjected to the awful issues of death,
judgment, and eternal misery, by the slightest accident or
casualty; and I set about the duty of prayer myself with the
utmost earnestness.
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