you　in　my　heart；　and　gave　me　such　teaching　and　such　training；　that　I
  have　found　you　at　last。　　And　now　I　have　found　you；　I　will　hold　you。
  You　cannot　escapeyou　will　not　want　to　escape　any　more；　father？'
  Andrew　made　no　reply　to　this　appeal。　　It　sounded　like　imprisonment
  for　life；　I　suppose。　　But　thought　was　moving　in　him。　　After　a　long
  pause；　during　which　the　son's　heart　was　hungering　for　a　word　whereon
  to　hang　a　further　hope；　the　old　man　spoke　again；　muttering　as　if　he
  were　only　speaking　his　thoughts　unconsciously。
  'Where's　the　use？　　There's　no　forgiveness　for　me。　　My　mother　is
  going　to　heaven。　　I　must　go　to　hell。　　No。　It's　no　good。　　Better
  leave　it　as　it　is。　　I　daren't　see　her。　　It　would　kill　me　to　see
  her。'
  'It　will　kill　her　not　to　see　you；　and　that　will　be　one　sin　more　on
  your　conscience；　father。'
  Andrew　got　up　and　walked　about　the　room。　　And　Robert　only　then　arose
  from　his　knees。
  'And　there's　my　mother；'　he　said。
  Andrew　did　not　reply；　but　Robert　saw　when　he　turned　next　towards　the
  light；　that　the　sweat　was　standing　in　beads　on　his　forehead。
  'Father；'　he　said；　going　up　to　him。
  The　old　man　stopped　in　his　walk；　turned；　and　faced　his　son。
  'Father；'　repeated　Robert；　'you've　go　to　repent；　and　God　won't　let
  you　off；　and　you　needn't　think　it。　　You'll　have　to　repent　some　day。'
  'In　hell；　Robert；'　said　Andrew；　looking　him　full　in　the　eyes；　as　he
  had　never　looked　at　him　before。　　It　seemed　as　if　even　so　much
  acknowledgment　of　the　truth　had　already　made　him　bolder　and
  honester。
  'Yes。　Either　on　earth　or　in　hell。　　Would　it　not　be　better　on　earth？'
  'But　it　will　be　no　use　in　hell；'　he　murmured。
  In　those　few　words　lay　the　germ　of　the　preference　for　hell　of　poor
  souls；　enfeebled　by　wickedness。　　They　will　not　have　to　do　anything
  thereonly　to　moan　and　cry　and　suffer　for　ever；　they　think。　　It　is
  effort；　the　out…going　of　the　living　will　that　they　dread。　　The
  sorrow；　the　remorse　of　repentance；　they　do　not　so　much　regard：　it　is
  the　action　it　involves；　it　is　the　having　to　turn；　be　different；　and
  do　differently；　that　they　shrink　from；　and　they　have　been　taught　to
  believe　that　this　will　not　be　required　of　them　therein　that　awful
  refuge　of　the　will…less。　　I　do　not　say　they　think　thus：　I　only　say
  their　dim；　vague；　feeble　feelings　are　such　as；　if　they　grew　into
  thought；　would　take　this　form。　　But　tell　them　that　the　fire　of　God
  without　and　within　them　will　compel　them　to　bethink　themselves；　that
  the　vision　of　an　open　door　beyond　the　smoke　and　the　flames　will　ever
  urge　them　to　call　up　the　ice…bound　will；　that　it　may　obey；　that　the
  torturing　spirit　of　God　in　them　will　keep　their　consciences　awake；
  not　to　remind　them　of　what　they　ought　to　have　done；　but　to　tell　them
  what　they　must　do　now；　and　hell　will　no　longer　fascinate　them。　　Tell
  them　that　there　is　no　refuge　from　the　compelling　Love　of　God；　save
  that　Love　itselfthat　He　is　in　hell　too；　and　that　if　they　make
  their　bed　in　hell　they　shall　not　escape　him；　and　then；　perhaps；　they
  will　have　some　true　presentiment　of　the　worm　that　dieth　not　and　the
  fire　that　is　not　quenched。
  'Father；　it　will　be　of　use　in　hell；'　said　Robert。　'God　will　give　you
  no　rest　even　there。　　You　will　have　to　repent　some　day；　I　do
  believeif　not　now　under　the　sunshine　of　heaven；　then　in　the
  torture　of　the　awful　world　where　there　is　no　light　but　that　of　the
  conscience。　　Would　it　not　be　better　and　easier　to　repent　now；　with
  your　wife　waiting　for　you　in　heaven；　and　your　mother　waiting　for　you
  on　earth？'
  Will　it　be　credible　to　my　reader；　that　Andrew　interrupted　his　son
  with　the　words；
  'Robert；　it　is　dreadful　to　hear　you　talk　like　that。　　Why；　you　don't
  believe　in　the　Bible！'
  His　words　will　be　startling　to　one　who　has　never　heard　the　lips　of　a
  hoary　old　sinner　drivel　out　religion。　　To　me　they　are　not　so
  startling　as　the　words　of　Christian　women　and　bishops　of　the　Church
  of　England；　when　they　say　that　the　doctrine　of　the　everlasting
  happiness　of　the　righteous　stands　or　falls　with　the　doctrine　of　the
  hopeless　damnation　of　the　wicked。　　Can　it　be　that　to　such　the　word
  is　everything；　the　spirit　nothing？　　No。　It　is　only　that　the　devil　is
  playing　a　very　wicked　prank；　not　with　them；　but　in　them：　they　are
  pluming　themselves　on　being　selfish　after　a　godly　sort。
  'I　do　believe　the　Bible；　father；'　returned　Robert；　'and　have　ordered
  my　life　by　it。　　If　I　had　not　believed　the　Bible；　I　fear　I　should
  never　have　looked　for　you。　　But　I　won't　dispute　about　it。　　I　only
  say　I　believe　that　you　will　be　compelled　to　repent　some　day；　and
  that　now　is　the　best　time。　　Then；　you　will　not　only　have　to　repent；
  but　to　repent　that　you　did　not　repent　now。　　And　I　tell　you；　father；
  that　you　shall　go　to　my　grandmother。'
  CHAPTER　XVI。
  CHANGE　OF　SCENE。
  But　various　reasons　combined　to　induce　Falconer　to　postpone　yet　for
  a　period　their　journey　to　the　North。　　Not　merely　did　his　father
  require　an　unremitting　watchfulness；　which　it　would　be　difficult　to
  keep　up　in　his　native　place　amongst　old　friends　and　acquaintances；
  but　his　health　was　more　broken　than　he　had　at　first　supposed；　and
  change　of　air　and　scene　without　excitement　was　most　desirable。　　He
  was　anxious　too　that　the　change　his　mother　must　see　in　him　should　be
  as　little　as　possible　attributable　to　other　causes　than　those　that
  years　bring　with　them。　　To　this　was　added　that　his　own　health　had
  begun　to　suffer　from　the　watching　and　anxiety　he　had　gone　through；
  and　for　his　father's　sake；　as　well　as　for　the　labour　which　yet　lay
  before　him；　he　would　keep　that　as　sound　as　he　might。　　He　wrote　to
  his　grandmother　and　explained　the　matter。　　She　begged　him　to　do　as
  he　thought　best；　for　she　was　so　happy　that　she　did　not　care　if　she
  should　never　see　Andrew　in　this　world：　it　was　enough　to　die　in　the
  hope　of　meeting　him　in　the　other。　　But　she　had　no　reason　to　fear
  that　death　was　at　hand；　for；　although　much　more　frail；　she　felt　as
  well　as　ever。
  By　this　time　Falconer　had　introduced　me　to　his　father。　　I　found　him
  in　some　things　very　like　his　son；　in　others；　very　different。　　His
  manners　were　more　polished；　his　pleasure　in　pleasing　much　greater：
  his　humanity　had　blossomed　too　easily；　and　then　run　to　seed。　　Alas；
  to　no　seed　that　could　bear　fruit！　　There　was　a　weak　expression　about
  his　moutha　wavering　interrogation：　it　was　so　different　from　the
  firmly…closed　portals　whence　issued　the　golden　speech　of　his　son！
  He　had　a　sly；　sidelong　look　at　times；　whether　of　doubt　or　cunning；
  I　could　not　always　determine。　　His　eyes；　unlike　his　son's；　were　of　a
  light　blue；　and　hazy　both　in　texture　and　expression。　　His　hands　were
  long…fingered　and　tremulous。　　He　gave　your　hand　a　sharp　squeeze；　and
  the　same　instant　abandoned　it　with　indifference。　　I　soon　began　to
  discover　in　him　a　tendency　to　patronize　any　one　who　showed　him　a
  particle　of　respect　as　distinguished　from　common…place　civility。
  But　under　all　outward　appearances　it　seemed　to　me　that　there　was　a
  change　going　on：　at　least　being　very　willing　to　believe　it；　I　found
  nothing　to　render　belief　impossible。
  He　was　very　fond　of　the　flute　his　son　had　given　him；　and　on　that
  sweetest　and　most　expressionless　of　instruments　he　played
  exquisitely。
  One　evening　when　I　called　to　see　them；　Falconer　said；
  'We　are　going　out　of　town　for　a　few　weeks；　Gordon：　will　you　go　with
  us？'
  'I　am　afraid　I　can't。'
  'Why？　　You　have　no　teaching　at　present；　and　your　writing　you　can　do
  as　well　in　the　country　as　in　town。'
  'That　is　true；　but　still　I　don't　see　how　I　can。　　I　am　too　poor　for
  one　thing。'
  'Between　you　and　me　that　is　nonsense。'
  'Well；　I　withdraw　that；'　I　said。　'But　there　is　so　much　to　be　done；
  specially　as　you　will　be　away；　and　Miss　St　John　is　at　the　Lakes。'
  'That　is　all　very　true；　but　you　need　a　change。　　I　have　seen　for　some
  weeks　that　you　are　failing。　　Mind；　it　is　our　best　work　that　He
  wants；　not　the　dregs　of　our　exhaustion。　　I　hope　you　are　not　of　the
  mind　of　our　friend　Mr。　Watts；　the　curate　of　St。　Gregory's。'
  'I　thought　you　had　a　high　opinion　of　Mr。　Watts；'　I　returned。
  'So　I　have。　　I　hope　it　is　not　necessary　to　agree　with　a　man　in
  everything　before　we　can　have　a　high　opinion　of　him。'
  'Of　course　not。　　But　what　is　it　you　hope　I　am　not　of　his　opinion
  in？'
  'He　seems　ambitious　of　killing　himself　with　workof　wearing　himself
  out　in　the　service　of　his　masterand　as　quickly　as　possible。　　A
  good　deal　of　that　kind　of　thing　is　a　mere　holding　of　the　axe　to　the
  grindstone；　not　a　lifting　of　it　up　against　thick　trees。　　Only　he
  won't　be　convinced　till　it　comes　to　the　helve。　　I　met　him　the　other
  day；　he　was　looking　as　white　as　his　surplice。　　I　took　upon　me　to
  read　him　a　lecture　on　the　holiness　of　holidays。　〃I　can't　leave　my
  poor；〃　he　said。　〃Do　you　think　God　can't　do　without　you？〃　　I　asked。
  〃Is　he　so　weak　that　he　cannot　spare　the　help　of　a　weary　man？　　But　I
  think　he　must　prefer　quality　to　quantity；