Part 30 (2/2)

'I know no more about that than you do,' replied Owen. 'That is--I know nothing. The only difference between us is that you THINK you know. You think you know that G.o.d made the universe; how long it took Him to do it; why He made it; how long it's been in existence and how it will finally pa.s.s away. You also imagine you know that we shall live after we're dead; where we shall go, and the kind of existence we shall have. In fact, in the excess of your ”humility”, you think you know all about it. But really you know no more of these things than any other human being does; that is, you know NOTHING.'

'That's only YOUR opinion,' said Slyme.

'If we care to take the trouble to learn,' Owen went on, 'we can know a little of how the universe has grown and changed; but of the beginning we know nothing.'

'That's just my opinion, matey,' observed Philpot. 'It's just a b.l.o.o.d.y mystery, and that's all about it.'

'I don't pretend to 'ave no 'ead knowledge,' said Slyme, 'but 'ead knowledge won't save a man's soul: it's 'EART knowledge as does that. I knows in my 'eart as my sins is all hunder the Blood, and it's knowin'

that, wot's given 'appiness and the peace which pa.s.ses all understanding to me ever since I've been a Christian.'

'Glory, glory, hallelujah!' shouted Bundy, and nearly everyone laughed.

'”Christian” is right,' sneered Owen. 'You've got some t.i.tle to call yourself a Christian, haven't you? As for the happiness that pa.s.ses all understanding, it certainly pa.s.ses MY understanding how you can be happy when you believe that millions of people are being tortured in h.e.l.l; and it also pa.s.ses my understanding why you are not ashamed of yourself for being happy under such circ.u.mstances.'

'Ah, well, you'll find it all out when you come to die, mate,' replied Slyme in a threatening tone. 'You'll think and talk different then!'

'That's just wot gets over ME,' observed Harlow. 'It don't seem right that after living in misery and poverty all our b.l.o.o.d.y lives, workin'

and slavin' all the hours that Gord A'mighty sends, that we're to be b.l.o.o.d.y well set fire and burned in 'ell for all eternity! It don't seem feasible to me, you know.'

'It's my belief,' said Philpot, profoundly, 'that when you're dead, you're done for. That's the end of you.'

'That's what _I_ say,' remarked Easton. 'As for all this religious business, it's just a money-making dodge. It's the parson's trade, just the same as painting is ours, only there's no work attached to it and the pay's a b.l.o.o.d.y sight better than ours is.'

'It's their livin', and a b.l.o.o.d.y good livin' too, if you ask me,' said Bundy.

'Yes,' said Harlow; 'they lives on the fat o' the land, and wears the best of everything, and they does nothing for it but talk a lot of twaddle two or three times a week. The rest of the time they spend cadgin' money orf silly old women who thinks it's a sorter fire insurance.'

'It's an old sayin' and a true one,' chimed in the man on the upturned pail. 'Parsons and publicans is the worst enemies the workin' man ever 'ad. There may be SOME good 'uns, but they're few and far between.'

'If I could only get a job like the Harchbishop of Canterbury,' said Philpot, solemnly, 'I'd leave this firm.'

'So would I,' said Harlow, 'if I was the Harchbishop of Canterbury, I'd take my pot and brushes down the office and shy 'em through the b.l.o.o.d.y winder and tell ole Misery to go to 'ell.'

'Religion is a thing that don't trouble ME much,' remarked Newman; 'and as for what happens to you after death, it's a thing I believe in leavin' till you comes to it--there's no sense in meetin' trouble 'arfway. All the things they tells us may be true or they may not, but it takes me all my time to look after THIS world. I don't believe I've been to church more than arf a dozen times since I've been married--that's over fifteen years ago now--and then it's been when the kids 'ave been christened. The old woman goes sometimes and of course the young 'uns goes; you've got to tell 'em something or other, and they might as well learn what they teaches at the Sunday School as anything else.'

A general murmur of approval greeted this. It seemed to be the almost unanimous opinion, that, whether it were true or not, 'religion' was a nice thing to teach children.

'I've not been even once since I was married,' said Harlow, 'and I sometimes wish to Christ I 'adn't gorn then.'

'I don't see as it matters a dam wot a man believes,' said Philpot, 'as long as you don't do no 'arm to n.o.body. If you see a poor b--r wot's down on 'is luck, give 'im a 'elpin' 'and. Even if you ain't got no money you can say a kind word. If a man does 'is work and looks arter 'is 'ome and 'is young 'uns, and does a good turn to a fellow creature when 'e can, I reckon 'e stands as much chance of getting into 'eaven--if there IS sich a place--as some of there 'ere Bible-busters, whether 'e ever goes to church or chapel or not.'

These sentiments were echoed by everyone with the solitary exception of Slyme, who said that Philpot would find out his mistake after he was dead, when he would have to stand before the Great White Throne for judgement!

'And at the Last Day, when yer sees the moon turned inter Blood, you'll be cryin' hout for the mountings and the rocks to fall on yer and 'ide yer from the wrath of the Lamb!'

The others laughed derisively.

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