"Except two or three whom, they say, he brought to life."

"Still there are but three or four."

"To tell you the truth, I do not care much to argue the point with
you.--It is by no means a matter of the FIRST importance whether we
live for ever or not."

"Mr. Polwarth!" exclaimed the draper in such astonishment mingled
with horror, as proved he was not in immediate danger of becoming an
advocate of the doctrine of extinction.

The gate-keeper smiled what, but for a peculiar expression of
undefinable good in it, might have been called a knowing smile.

"Suppose a thing were in itself not worth having," he said, "would
it be any great enhancement of it as a gift to add the assurance
that the possession of it was eternal! Most people think it a fine
thing to have a bit of land to call their own and leave to their
children; but suppose a stinking and undrainable swamp, full of foul
springs--what consolation would it be to the proprietor of that to
know, while the world lasted, not a human being would once dispute
its possession with any fortunate descendant holding it?"

The draper only stared, but his stare was a thorough one. The curate
sat waiting, with both amusement and interest, for what would
follow: he saw the direction in which the little man was driving.

"You astonish me!" said Mr. Drew, recovering his mental breath. "How
can you compare God's gift to such a horrible thing! Where should we