Summary

Portrait of Theodore Winthrop Theodore Winthrop John Brent — Chapter IX. Sizzum and His Heretics

No holidays, no green grass, no flowers, no freshness, — nothing but hard, ill-paid drudgery, with starvation standing over the task and scourging them on. There were children among them already aged and wrinkled, ancient as the crone, Samwell’s mother, for any childish gayety they showed. Poor things! they had been for years their twelve, fourteen, sixteen hours at work in stifling mills, when they should have been tumbling in the hay, chasing butterflies, expanding to sunshine and open air.
“We have not seen,” said Brent, “one hearty John Bull, or buxom Betsy Bull, in the whole caravan.”
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Portrait of Theodore Winthrop Theodore Winthrop John Brent — Chapter IX. Sizzum and His Heretics

By and by, when mankind is educated to know that theology is a science, to be investigated and tested like a science, Mormonism and every like juggle will become forever impossible.”
“Certainly; false religions always pretend to a supernatural origin and a fresh batch of mysteries. Let Christianity discard its mysteries, and impostors will have no educated credulity to aid them.”
So Brent and I commented upon the Sizzum heresy and its mouthpiece.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Theodore Winthrop Theodore Winthrop John Brent — Chapter IX. Sizzum and His Heretics

He was a big, powerful man, without one atom of delicacy in him, — a fellow who never could take a flower or a gentle heart into his without crushing it by a brutal instinct. A creature with such an amorphous beak of a nose, such a heavy-lipped mouth, and such wilderness of jaw, could never perceive the fine savor of any delicate thing.
Source: Wikisource

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