I’llgowhereyouseefit，sir。He’sinnocent，“faintlyindicatingJem，ashefellbackinhischair。“Neverfear!Theycannottouchhim，“saidJobLegh，inalowvoice。ButasMrCarsonwasonthepointofleavingthehousewithnosignofrelentingabouthim，hewasagainstoppedbyJohnBarton，whohadrisenoncemorefromhischair，andstoodsupportinghimselfonJem，whilehespoke。“Sir，oneword!Myhairsaregreywithsuffering，andyourswithyears——““AndhaveIhadnosuffering？“askedMrCarson，asifappealingforsympathy，eventothemurdererofhischild。Andthemurdererofhischildansweredtotheappeal，andgroanedinspiritovertheanguishhehadcaused。“HaveIhadnoinwardsufferingtoblanchthesehairs？HavenotItoiledandstruggledeventotheseyearswithhopesinmyheartthatallcentredinmyboy？Ididnotspeakofthem，butweretheynotthere？Iseemedhardandcold；andsoImightbetoothers，butnottohim!——whoshalleverimaginetheloveIboretohim？Evenheneverdreamedhowmyheartleaptupatthesoundofhisfootstep，andhowprecioushewastohispooroldfather。Andheisgone——killed——outofthehearingofalllovingwords——outofmysightforever。Hewasmysunshine，andnowitisnight!Oh，myGod!
　　comfortme，comfortme!“criedtheoldman，aloud。TheeyesofJohnBartongrewdimwithtears。Richandpoor，mastersandmen，werethenbrothersinthedeepsufferingoftheheart；forwasnotthistheveryanguishhehadfeltforlittleTominyearssolonggoneby，thattheyseemedlikeanotherlife!Themournerbeforehimwasnolongertheemployer；abeingofanotherrace，eternallyplacedinantagonisticattitude；goingthroughtheworldglitteringlikegold，withastonyheartwithin，whichknewnosorrowbutthroughtheaccidentsofTrade；nolongertheenemy，theoppressor，butaverypooranddesolateoldman。Thesympathyforsuffering，formerlysoprevalentafeelingwithhim，againfilledJohnBarton’sheart，andalmostimpelledhimtospeakasbesthecouldsomeearnesttenderwordstothesternman，shakinginhisagony。Butwhowasbe，thatheshoulduttersympathyorconsolation？Thecauseofallthiswoe。Oh，blasting。thought!Oh，miserableremembrance!Hehadforfeitedallrighttobinduphisbrother’swounds。Stunnedbythethought，hesankupontheseat，almostcrushedwiththeknowledgeoftheconsequencesofhisownaction；forhehadnomoreimaginedtohimselftheblightedhome，andthemiserableparents，thandoesthesoldier，whodischargeshismusket，picturetohimselfthedesolationofthewife，andthepitifulcriesofthehelplesslittleones，whoareinaninstanttobemadewidowedandfatherless。Tointimidateaclassofmen，knownonlytothosebelowthemasdesiroustoobtainthegreatestquantityofworkforthelowestwages，——atmosttoremoveanoverbearingpartnerfromanobnoxiousfirm，whostoodinthewayofthosewhostruggledaswellastheywereabletoobtaintheirrights，——thiswasthelightinwhichJohnBartonhadviewedhisdeed；andevensoviewingit，aftertheexcitementhadpassedaway，theAvenger，thesureAvenger，hadfoundhimout。Butnowheknewthathehadkilledaman，andabrother，——nowheknewthatnogoodthingcouldcomeoutofthisevil，eventothesuffererswhosecausehehadsoblindlyespoused。Helayacrossthetable，broken-hearted。EveryfreshquiveringsobofMrCarson’sstabbedhimtohissoul。Hefeltexecratedbyall；andasifhecouldneverlaybarethepervertedreasoningswhichhadmadetheperformanceofundoubtedsinappearaduty。
　　Thetopleadsomefaintexcusegrewstrongerandstronger。Hefeeblyraisedhishead，andlookingatJobLegh，hewhisperedout，“IdidnotknowwhatIwasdoing，JobLegh；GodknowsIdidn’t!Oh，sir!“
　　saidhe，wildly，almostthrowinghimselfatMrCarson’sfeet，“sayyouforgivemetheanguishInowseeIhavecausedyou。Icarenotforpain，ordeath，youknowIdon’t；butoh，man!forgivemethetrespassIhavedone!““Forgiveusourtrespassesasweforgivethemthattrespassagainstus，“
　　saidJob，solemnlyandlow，asifinprayer：asifthewordsweresuggestedbythoseJohnBartonhadused。MrCarsontookhishandsawayfromhisface。Iwouldratherseedeaththantheghastlygloomwhichdarkenedthatcountenance。“Letmytrespassesbeunforgiven，sothatImayhavevengeanceformyson’smurder。“Thereareblasphemousactionsaswellasblasphemouswords：allunloving，crueldeedsareactedblasphemy。MrCarsonleftthehouse。AndJohnBartonlayonthegroundasonedead。Theyliftedhimup，andalmosthopingthatthatdeeptrancemightbetohimtheendofallearthlythings，theyborehimtohisbed。Foratimetheylistenedwithdividedattentiontohisfaintbreathings；
　　forineachhastyhurriedstepthatechoedinthestreetoutside，theythoughtthey。heardtheapproachoftheofficersofjustice。WhenMrCarsonleftthehousehewasdizzywithagitation；thehotbloodwentcareeringthroughhisframe。Hecouldnotseethedeepblueofthenight-heavensforthefiercepulseswhichthrobbedinhishead。Andpartlytosteadyandcalmhimself，heleanedagainstarailing，andlookedupintothosecalmmajesticdepthswithatheirthousandstars。Andbyandbyhisownvoicereturneduponhim，asifthelastwordshehadspokenwerebeingutteredthroughallthatinfinitespace；butintheirechoestherewasatoneofunutterablesorrow。“Letmytrespassesbeunforgiven，sothatImayhavevengeanceformyson’smurder。“Hetriedtoshakeoffthespiritualimpressionmadebythisimagination。
　　Hewasfeverishandill，——andnowonder。Soheturnedtogohomewards；not，ashehadthreatened，tothepolice-office。
　　Afterallhetoldhimself，thatwoulddointhemorning。Nofearoftheman’sescaping，unlessheescapedtotheGrave。Sohetriedtobanishthephantomvoicesandshapeswhichcameunbiddentohisbrain，andtorecallhisbalanceofmindbywalkingcalmlyandslowly，andnoticingeverythingwhichstruckhissenses。Itwasawarmsofteveninginspring，andthereweremanypersonsinthestreets。Amongothers，anursewithalittlegirlinhercharge，conveyingherhomefromsomechildren’sgaiety；adancemostlikely，forthelovelylittlecreaturewasdaintilydeckedoutinsoft，snowymuslin；andherfairyfeettrippedalongbyhernurse’ssideasiftothemeasureofsometuneshehadlatelykepttimeto。Suddenlyupbehindhertherecamearough，rudeerrand-boy，nineortenyearsofage；agianthelookedbythefairy-child，assheflutteredalong。
　　Idon’tknowhowitwas，butinsomeawkwardwayheknockedthepoorlittlegirldownuponthehardpavementashebrushedrudelypast，notmuchcaringwhomhehurt，sothathegotalong。Thechildarose，sobbingwithpain；andnotwithoutcause，forbloodwasdroppingdownfromtheface，butaminutebeforesofairandbright——droppingdownontheprettyfrock，makingthosescarletmarkssoterribletolittlechildren。Thenurse，apowerfulwoman，hadseizedtheboy，justasMrCarsonwhohadseenthewholetransactioncameup。“Younaughtylittlerascal!I’llgiveyoutoapoliceman，thatIwill!
　　Doyouseehowyou’vehurtthelittlegirl？Doyou？“accompanyingeverysentencewithaviolentjerkofpassionateanger。Theladlookedhardanddefying；butwithalterrifiedatthethreatofthepoliceman，thoseogresofourstreetstoallunluckyurchins。Thenursesawit，andbegantodraghimalong，withaviewofmakingwhatshecalled“awholesomeimpression。“Histerrorincreased，andwithithisirritation；when。thelittlesweetface，chokingawayitssobs，pulleddownnurse’shead，andsaid，“Please，dearnurse，I’mnotmuchhurt；itwasverysillytocry，youknow。
　　Hedidnotmeantodoit。Hedidnotknowwhathewasdoing，didyou，littleboy？Nursewon’tcallapoliceman，sodon’tbefrightened。“
　　Andsheputupherlittlemouthtobekissedbyherinjurer，justasshehadbeentaughttodoathometo“makepeace。““Thatladwillmind，andbemoregentleforthetimetocome，I’llbebound，thankstothatlittlelady，“saidapasser-by，halftohimself，andhalftoMrCarson，whomhehadobservedtonoticethescene。Thelattertooknoapparentheedoftheremarkbutpassedon。Butthechild’spleadingremindedhimofthelow，brokenvoicehehadsolatelyheard，penitentlyandhumblyurgingthesameextenuationofhisgreatguilt。“IdidnotknowwhatIwasdoing。“Hehadsomeassociationwiththosewords；hehadheard，orreadofthatpleasomewherebefore。Wherewasit？“Coulditbe——？“Hewouldlookwhenhegothome。Sowhenheenteredhishousehewentstraightandsilentlyupstairstohislibrary，andtookdownthegreatlargeBible，allgrandandgolden，withitsleavesadheringtogetherfromthebookbinder’spress，solittlehaditbeenused。OnthefirstpagewhichfellopentoMrCarson’sviewwerewrittenthenamesofhischildren，andhisown。“HenryJohn，sonoftheaboveJohnandElizabethCarson。Born，Sept。29th，1815。“Tomaketheentrycomplete，hisdeathshouldnowbeadded。Butthepagebecamehiddenbythegatheringmistoftears。Thoughtuponthought，andrecollectionuponrecollectioncamecrowdingin，fromtheremembranceoftheprouddaywhenhehadpurchasedthecostlybook，inordertowritedownthebirthofthelittlebabeofadayold。Helaidhisheaddownontheopenpage，andletthetearsfallslowlyonthespotlessleaves。Hisson’smurdererwasdiscovered；hadconfessedhisguilt；andyetstrangetosayhecouldnothatehimwiththevehemenceofhatredhehadfelt，whenhehadimaginedhimayoungman，fulloflustylife，defyingalllaws，humananddivine。Inspiteofhisdesiretoretaintherevengefulfeelingheconsideredasadutytohisdeadson，somethingofpitywouldstealinforthepoor，wastedskeletonofaman，thesmittencreature，whohadtoldhimofhissin，andimploredhispardonthatnight。Inthedaysofhischildhoodandyouth，MrCarsonbadbeenaccustomedtopoverty；butitwashonest，decentpoverty；notthegrindingsqualidmiseryhehadremarkedineverypartofJohnBarton’shouse，andwhichcontrastedstrangelywiththepompoussumptuousnessoftheroominwhichhenowsat。
　　Unaccustomedwonderfilledhismindatthereflectionofthedifferentlotsofthebrethrenofmankind。Thenherousedhimselffromhisreverie，andturnedtotheobjectofhissearch——theGospel，wherehehalfexpectedtofindthetenderpleading：
　　“Theyknownotwhattheydo。“Itwasmurkmidnightbythistime，andthehousewasstillandquiet。TherewasnothingtointerrupttheoldmaninhisUnwontedstudy。Yearsago，theGospelhadbeenhistask-bookinlearningtoread。Somanyyearsago，thathehadbecomefamiliarwiththeeventsbeforehecouldcomprehendtheSpiritthatmadetheLife。Hefelltothenarrativenow，afresh，withalltheinterestofalittlechild。Hebeganatthebeginning，andreadonalmostgreedily，understandingforthefirsttimethefullmeaningofthestory。Hecametotheend；theawfulEnd。Andtherewerethehauntingwordsofpleading。Heshutthebook，andthoughtdeeply。Allnightlong，theArchangelcombatedwiththeDemon。Allnightlong，otherswatchedbythebedofDeath。JohnBartonhadrevivedtofitfulintelligence。Hespokeattimeswithevensomethingofhisformerenergy；andintheracyLancashiredialecthehadalwaysusedwhenspeakingfreely。“YouseeI’vesooftenbeenhankeringaftertherightway；andit’sahardoneforapoormantofind。Atleastit’sbeensotome。Noonelearnedme，andnoonetelledme。WhenIwasalittlechaptheytaughtmetoread，andthentheynevergavenobooks；onlyIheardsaytheBiblewasagoodbook。SowhenIgrewthoughtful，andpuzzled，Itooktoit。Butyou’dneverbelieveblackwasblack，ornightwasnight，whenyousawallaboutyouactingasifblackwaswhite，andnightwasday。It’snotmuchIcansayformyselfint’otherworld。Godforgiveme；butIcansaythis，IwouldfainhavegoneaftertheBiblerulesifI’dseenfolkcreditit；theyallspokeupforit，andwentanddidcleancontrary。InthosedaysIwouldha’goneaboutwi’myBible，likealittlechild，myfingerinth’lace，andaskingthemeaningofthisorthattext，annoonetoldme。ThenI
　　tookouttwoorthreetextsasclearasglass，andItriedtodowhattheybidmedo。ButIdon’tknowhowitwas，mastersandmen，allalikecarednomoreformindingthosetexts，thanIdidforth’LordMayorofLondon；