Higgins nodded to her as a sign of
greeting; and she softly adjusted her working
materials on the table, and prepared to listen.

"As I was a-saying, sir, I reckon yo'd not
ha' much belief in yo if yo lived here,—if
yo'd been bred here. I ax your pardon if I
use wrong words; but what I mean by belief
just now, is a-thinking on sayings and maxims
and promises made by folk yo never saw,—
about the things and the life yo never saw,
nor no one else. Now, yo say these are true
things, and true sayings, and a true life. I
just say, where's the proof? There's many
and many a one wiser, and scores better
learned than I am around me,—folk who've
had time to think on these things,—while my
time has had to be gi'en up to getting my
bread. Well, I sees these people. Their lives
is pretty much open to me. They're real
folk. They don't believe i' the Bible,—not
they. They may say they do, for form's sake;
but Lord, sir, d'ye think their first cry i' th'
morning is, 'What shall I do to get hold on
eternal life?' or 'What shall I do to fill
my purse this blessed day? Where shall I
go? What bargains shall I strike?' The
purse and the gold and the notes is real
things; things as can be felt and touched;
them's realities; and eternal life is all a talk,
very fit for—I axe your pardon, sir; yo're
a parson out o' work, I believe. Well! I'll
never speak disrespectful of a man in the
same fix as I'm in mysel'. But I'll just ax
yo another question, sir, and I dunnot want
yo to answer it, only to put it in yo'r pipe,
and smoke it, afore yo' go for to set down us,
who only believe in what we see, as fools
and noddies. If salvation, and life to come,
and what not, was true—not in men's words,
but in men's hearts' core—dun yo not think
they'd din us wi' it as they do wi' political
'conomy? They're mighty anxious to come
round us wi' that piece o' wisdom; but
t'other would be a greater convarsion, if it
were true."

"But the masters have nothing to do with
your religion. All that they are connected
with you in is trade,—so they think,—and all
that it concerns them, therefore, to rectify
your opinions in is the science of trade."

"I'm glad, sir," said Higgins, with a curious
wink of his eye, "that yo put in, ' so they
think.' I'd ha' thought yo a hypocrite, I'm
afeard, if yo hadn't, for all yo'r a parson, or
rayther because yo'r a parson. Yo see, if yo'd
spoken o' religion as a thing that, if it was
true, it didn't concern all men to press on all
men's attention, above everything else in this
'varsal earth, I should ha' thought yo a
knave for to be a parson; and I'd rather
think yo a fool than a knave. No offence, I
hope, sir."

"None at all. You consider me mistaken,
and I consider you far more fatally mistaken.
I don't expect to convince you in a day,—not
in one conversation; but let us know each
other, and speak freely to each other about
these things, and the truth will prevail. I
should not believe in God if I did not believe
that. Mr. Higgins, I trust, whatever else you
have given up, you believe"—(Mr. Hale's
voice dropped low in reverence)—" you
believe in Him."

Nicholas Higgins suddenly stood straight,
stiff up. Margaret started to her feet,—for
she thought, by the working of his face, he
was going into convulsions. Mr. Hale looked
at her dismayed. At last Higgins found
words:

"Man! I could fell yo to the ground for
tempting me. Whatten business have yo to
try me wi' your doubts? Think o' her lying
theere, after the life hoo's led; and think then
how yo'd deny me the one sole comfort left—
that there is a God, and that He set her her
life. I dunnot believe she'll ever live again,"
said he, sitting down, and drearily going on,
as if to the unsympathising fire. "I dunnot
believe in any other life than this, in which
she dreed such trouble, and had such
never-ending care; and I canno bear to think
it were all a set o' chances, that might ha'
been altered wi' a breath o' wind. There's
many a time when I've thought I didna
believe in God, but I've never put it fair out
before me in words as many men do. I may
ha' laughed at those who did, to brave it out
like—but I have looked round at after, to
see if He heard me, if so be there was a He;
but to-day, when I'm left desolate, I wunnot
listen to yo wi' yo'r questions, and yo'r doubts.
There's but one thing steady and quiet i' all
this reeling world, and, reason or no reason,
I'll cling to that. It's a' very well for happy
folk—"

Margaret touched his arm very softly. She
had not spoken before, nor had he heard her
rise.

"Nicholas, we do not want to reason; you
misunderstand my father. We do not reason
—we believe; and so do you. It is the one
sole comfort in such times."

He turned round and caught her hand.
"Ay; it is, it is"—(brushing away the tears
with the back of his hand).—"But yo
know, she's lying dead at home; and I'm
welly dazed wi' sorrow, and at times I hardly
know what I'm saying. It's as if speeches
folk ha' made—lever and smart things as
I've thought at the time—come up now my
heart's welly brossen. Th' strike's failed as
well; dun yo' know that, miss? I were coming
whoam to ask her, like a beggar as I am,
for a bit o' comfort i' that trouble; and I
were knocked down by one who telled me she
were dead—just dead. That were all; but
that were enough for me."

Mr. Hale blew his nose, and got up to
snuff the candles to conceal his emotion.
"He's not an infidel, Margaret; how could
you say so?" muttered he reproachfully.
''I've a good mind to read him the fourteenth
chapter of Job."

"Not yet, papa, I think. Perhaps not at