Wallace said, with a smile. "Cyril has us fairly, Mr. Harvey. We
are reaping what our fathers sowed. They thought that the power they
had gained was to be theirs to hold always, and they used it
tyrannously, being thereby false to all their principles. It is ever
the persecuted, when he attains power, who becomes the persecutor,
and, hard as is the pressure of the laws now, we should never forget
that we have, in our time, been persecutors, and that in defiance of
the rights of conscience we had fought to achieve. Man's nature is, I
fear, unchangeable. The slave longs, above all things, for freedom,
but when he rises successfully against his master he, in turn,
becomes a tyrant, and not infrequently a cruel and bloodthirsty one.
Still, we must hope. It may be in the good days that are to come, we
may reach a point when each will be free to worship in his own
fashion, without any fear or hindrance, recognising the fact that
each has a right to follow his own path to Heaven, without its being
a subject of offence to those who walk in other ways."
One or two of the other visitors were on the point of speaking, when
Mr. Wallace put a stop to further argument by fetching a Bible from
his closet, and preparing for the short service of prayer with which
the evening always closed.
One evening, Mr. Harvey and his wife were absent from the usual
gathering.
"I feel anxious about them," Mr. Wallace said; "they have never,
since they arrived in town, missed coming here at seven o'clock.
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