independent action, so as to become the friend
and adviser when his absolute rule shall cease.
If I get wrong in my reasoning, recollect it is
you who adopted the analogy."

"Very lately," said Margaret, "I heard a
story of what happened in Nuremberg only
three or four years ago. A rich man there
lived alone in one of the immense mansions
which were formerly both dwellings and
warehouses. It was reported that he had a child,
but no one knew of it for certain. For forty
years this rumour kept rising and falling—
never utterly dying away. After his death
it was found to be true. He had a son—
an overgrown man, with the unexercised
intellect of a child, whom he had kept up in
that strange way, in order to save him from
temptation and error. But, of course, when
this great old child was turned loose into the
world, every bad counsellor had power over
him. He did not know good from evil. His
father had made the blunder of bringing him
up in ignorance and taking it for innocence;
and after fourteen months of riotous living, the
city authorities had to take charge of him in
order to save him from starvation. He
could not even use words effectively enough
to be a successful beggar."

"I used the comparison (suggested by
Miss Hale) of the position of the master to
that of a parent; so I ought not to complain
of your turning the simile into a weapon
against me. But, Mr. Hale, when you
were setting up a wise parent as a model
for us, you said he humoured his children
in their desire for independent action.
Now certainly, the time is not come for the
hands to have any independent action during
business hours; I hardly know what you
would mean by it then. And I say, that the
masters would be trenching on the independence
of their hands in a way that I, for one,
should not feel justified in doing, if we interfered
too much with the life they lead out of
the mills. Because they labour ten hours
a-day for us, I do not see that we have any
right to impose leading-strings upon them for
the rest of their time. I value my own
independence so highly that I can fancy no
degradation greater than that of having another
man perpetually directing and advising and
lecturing me, or even planning too closely in
any way about my actions. He might be the
wisest of men or the most powerful—I should
equally rebel and resent his interference, I
imagine this is a stronger feeling in
North of England than in the South."

"I beg your pardon, but is not that
because there has been none of the equality
of friendship between the adviser and
advised classes? Because every man has
had to stand in an unchristian and isolated
position, apart from and jealous of his
brother-man: constantly afraid of his rights
being trenched upon ?"

"I only state the fact. I am sorry to say
I have an appointment at eight o'clock, and
I must just take facts as I find them to-night,
without trying to account for them; which,
indeed, would make no difference in determining
how to act as things stand —the facts
must be granted."

"But," said Margaret in a low voice, " it
seems to me that it makes all the difference in
the world—" Her father made a sign to
her to be silent, and allow Mr. Thornton to
finish what he had to say. He was already
standing up and preparing to go.

"You must grant me this one point.
Given a strong feeling of independence in
every Darkshire man, have I any right to
obtrude my views of the manner in which he
shall act upon another (hating it as I should
do most vehemently myself), merely because
he has labour to sell and I capital to buy?"

"Not in the least," said Margaret, determined
just to say this one thing; "not in the
least because of your labour and capital positions,
whatever they are, but because you are
a man, dealing with a set of men over whom
you have, whether you reject the use of it
or not, immense power, just because your
lives and your welfare are so constantly and
intimately interwoven. God has made us so
that we must be mutually dependent. We
may ignore our own dependence, or refuse to
acknowledge that others depend upon us in
more respects than the payment of weekly
wages; but the thing must be, nevertheless.
Neither you nor any other master can help
yourselves. The most proudly independent
man depends ou those around him for their
insensible influence on his character—his life.
And the most isolated of all your Darkshire
Egos has dependants clinging to him on all
sides; he cannot shake them off, any more
than the great rock he resembles can shake
off—"

"Pray don't go into similes, Margaret; you
have led us off once already," said her father,
smiling, yet uneasy at the thought that they
were detaining Mr. Thornton against his
will, which was a mistake; for he rather
liked it, as long as Margaret would talk,
although what she said only irritated him.

"Just tell me, Miss Hale, are you yourself
ever influenced—no, that is not a fair way of
putting it;—but, if you are ever conscious of
being influenced by others, and not by
circumstances, have those others been working
directly or indirectly ? Have they been
labouring to exhort, to enjoin, to act rightly
for the sake of example, or have they been
simple, true men, taking up their duty, and
doing it unflinchingly, without a thought of
how their actions were to make this man
industrious, that man saving? Why, if I were
a workman, I should be twenty times more
impressed by the knowledge that my master
was honest, punctual, quick, resolute in all
his doings (and hands are keener spies even
than valets), than by any amount of interference,
however kindly meant, with my ways
of going-on out of work-hours. I do not