He laid his hand on Tom's, and bowed down his forehead on it.
"O, Tom, my boy, the whole world is as empty as an egg-shell." "I know it, Mas'r,--I know it," said Tom; "but, oh, if Mas'r could only look up,--up where our dear Miss Eva is,--up to the dear Lord Jesus!" "Ah, Tom! I do look up; but the trouble is, I don't see anything, when I do, I wish I could." Tom sighed heavily.
"It seems to be given to children, and poor, honest fellows, like you, to see what we can't," said St.Clare.

"How comes it ?" "Thou has 'hid from the wise and prudent, and revealed unto babes,'" murmured Tom; "'even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.'" "Tom, I don't believe,--I can't believe,--I've got the habit of doubting," said St.Clare.

"I want to believe this Bible,--and I can't." "Dear Mas'r, pray to the good Lord,--'Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief.'" "Who knows anything about anything ?" said St.Clare, his eyes wandering dreamily, and speaking to himself.

"Was all that beautiful love and faith only one of the ever-shifting phases of human feeling, having nothing real to rest on, passing away with the little breath?
And is there no more Eva,--no heaven,--no Christ,--nothing ?" "O, dear Mas'r, there is! I know it; I'm sure of it," said Tom, falling on his knees.

"Do, do, dear Mas'r, believe it!" "How do you know there's any Christ, Tom! You never saw the Lord." "Felt Him in my soul, Mas'r,--feel Him now! O, Mas'r, when I was sold away from my old woman and the children, I was jest a'most broke up.