My sympathies are all the other way--with the many, the poor devils who run about the streets and don't go to church.

Don't stare, Tom; mind, I'm telling you all that's in my heart--as far as I know it--but it's all a muddle.

You must be gentle with me if you want to land me.

Now I've seen a deal of this sort of religion; I was bred up in it, and I can't stand it.

If nineteen-twentieths of the world are to be left to uncovenanted mercies, and that sort of thing, which means in plain English to go to hell, and the other twentieth are to rejoice at it all, why--" "Oh! but, Harry, they ain't, they don't," broke in Tom, really shocked.
"Oh, how I wish Arthur hadn't gone! I'm such a fool about these things.
But it's all you want too, East; it is indeed.