One of his rules was to refuse to commence tolling the bell,
until he saw Mrs. Willoughby and her daughter, within a reasonable
distance of the place of worship; a rule that had brought about more
than one lively discussion between himself and the levelling-minded, if
not heavenly-minded Joel Strides. On the present occasion, this simple
process did not pass altogether without a dispute.

"Come, Mike; it's half-past ten; the people have been waiting about the
meetin' 'us, some time; you should open the doors and toll the bell.
People can't wait, for ever for anybody; not even for your church."

"Then let 'em just go home, ag'in, and come when they're called.
Because, the ould women, and the young women, and the childer, and the
likes o' them, wishes to scandalize their fellow cr'atures, Christians
I will not call 'em, let 'em mate in the mill, or the school-house, and
not come forenent a church on sich a business as that. Is it toll the
bell, will I, afore the Missus is in sight?--No--not for a whole
gineration of ye, Joel; and every one o' them, too, a much likelier man
than ye bees yerself."

"Religion is no respecter of persons"--returned the philosophical Joel.
"Them that likes masters and mistresses may have them, for all me; but
it riles me to meet with meanness."

"It does!" cried Mike, looking up at his companion, with a very
startling expression of wonder. "If that be true, ye must be in a
mighty throubled state, most of the live-long day, ye must!"

"I tell you, Michael O'Hearn, religion is no respecter of persons. The
Lord cares jist as much for _me_, as he does for captain
Willoughby, or his wife, or his son, or his darters, or anything that
is his."

"Divil burn me, now, Joel, if I believe _that_!" again cried Mike,
in his dogmatic manner. "Them that understands knows the difference
between mankind, and I'm sure it can be no great sacret to the Lord,
when it is so well known to a poor fellow like myself. There's a
plenthy of fellow-cr'atures that has a mighty good notion of their own
excellence, but when it comes to r'ason and thruth, it's no very great
figure ye all make, in proving what ye say. This chapel is the
master's, if chapel the heretical box can be called, and yonder bell
was bought wid his money; and the rope is his; and the hands that mane
to pull it, is his; and so there's little use in talking ag'in rocks,
and ag'in minds that's made up even harder than rocks, and to spare."

This set