."

"Never give it another thought, William," cried the other. "You've
never done me the least harm; but quite the other way. It's as good as
physic, and a deal better than some physic, to hear what other people
think of us, even if it ain't all of it quite true to the life."

"Ah! But I did you injustice, Thomas."

"Never mind if you did. You never said half as much evil of me as I
knew of myself. But let by-gones be by-gones. You've made me happier
than I can tell you; for I can see plainly enough as the Lord has been
laying his loving hands on you and your missus."

"You are right, Thomas; and I know it will give you real pleasure to
hear how it has all come about.--So sit down, Kate, and help me out with
my story."

Ah, what a different scene was this from that sorrowful time when the
poor, broken-hearted young mother leant hopelessly over the cradle of
her little one thirsting for that which she knew not where to find! Now
the same wife and mother sat with a smile of sweet contentment, busily
plying her knitting, while her husband told the simple story of how the
God of the Bible had "brought the blind by a way that they knew not."

"You know what I have been, Thomas," began Foster. "Well, I am not
ashamed now to confess that I never was really happy, nor satisfied with
my own creed. Spite of my conviction of my own superior knowledge, I
could not help acknowledging to my inward self that you were right and I
was wrong; at least, I saw that your creed did for you what my creed
could not do for me. It was very pleasant and flattering, of course, to
be looked up to as an oracle by the other members of my club, and to get
their applause when I said sharp things against religion and men whose
views differed from our own. But all the while I despised those very
companions of mine, and their praises; and, what's more, I despised
myself.

"And another thing--I had no real happiness at home, nor poor Kate
neither. I was disappointed in her--she won't mind my saying so now--
and she was disappointed in me. We had nothing to bind our hearts
together but a love which wanted a stronger cement than mere similarity
of tastes. Besides which--for I may as well speak out plainly now while
I'm about it--it was poor satisfaction to come home and find books lying
about, and scarce a spark of fire in the grate; no tea getting ready,
but, instead of it, twenty good reasons why things were not all straight
and comfo