his, that abandonment of heart and
brain, and deep sympathy with every domestic thought that characterized
old days, was somehow or other wanting. There was on the part of Morley
still devotion, but there was reserve.

"You are troubled, my father," said Sybil, as Gerard continued to pace
the chamber.

"Only a little restless. I am thinking what a mistake it was to have
moved in '39."

Sybil sighed.

"Ah! you were right, Sybil," continued Gerard; "affairs were not ripe.
We should have waited three years."

"Three years!" exclaimed Sybil, starting; "are affairs riper now?"

"The whole of Lancashire is in revolt," said Gerard. "There is not a
sufficient force to keep them in check. If the miners and colliers rise,
and I have cause to believe that it is more than probable they will move
before many days are past,--the game is up."

"You terrify me," said Sybil.

"On the Contrary," said Gerard, smiling, "the news is good enough; I'll
not say too good to be true, for I had it from one of the old delegates
who is over here to see what can be done in our north countree."

"Yes," said Sybil inquiringly, and leading on her father.

"He came to the works; we had some talk. There are to be no leaders this
time, at least no visible ones. The people will do it themselves. All
the children of Labour are to rise on the same day, and to toil no more,
till they have their rights. No violence, no bloodshed, but toil halts,
and then our oppressors will learn the great economical truth as well as
moral lesson, that when Toil plays Wealth ceases."

"When Toil ceases the People suffer," said Sybil. "That is the only
truth that we have learnt, and it is a bitter one."

"Can we be free without suffering," said Gerard. "Is the greatest of
human blessings to be obtained as a matter of course; to be plucked like
fruit, or seized like a running stream? No, no: we must suffer, but
we are wiser than of yore,--we will not conspire. Conspiracies are for
aristocrats, not for nations."

"Alas, alas! I see nothing but woe," said Sybil. "I cannot believe that
after all that has passed, the people here will move: I cannot believe
that after all that has passed, all that you, that we, have endured,
that you, my father, will counsel them to move."

"I counsel nothing," said Gerard. "It must be a great national instinct
that does it: but if all England, if Wales, if Scotland won't work, is
Mowbray to have a monopoly?"

"Ah! that's a bitter