“You will, sir?”
“I will. Such is my duty as a Christian pastor.”
“Do you suppose you can, sir?”
“Certainly. No doubt of that. What sort of a pastor must he be who cannot vindicate his own religion?”
“These beliefs, sir, were among us long before you were born; and I fancy they will last till some time after you are dead. And, what is more, I should not wonder if your bishop was to tell you the same thing when you send him your report of us.”
“I thought you had had more faith, Peder. I thought you had been a better Christian.”
“However that may be,” said Peder, “I have some knowledge of the people about us, having lived nearly fourscore years in the parish; and perhaps, sir, as you are young, and from a distance, you would allow me to say a word. May I?”
“O, certainly.”
But while M. Kollsen gave this permission, he took his pipe from his mouth, and beat time with it upon his knee, and with his foot upon the ground, to carry off his impatience at being instructed.
“My advice would be, sir, with all respect to you,” said Peder, “that you should lead the people into everything that you think true and good, and pass over quietly whatever old customs and notions you do not understand or like. I have so much belief in the religion you are to teach as to feel sure that whatever will not agree with it will die out of its way if let alone. But if religion is brought in to hurt the people’s feelings and notions, that religion will be the thing to suffer.”