How nice and comfortable we will make you! And
you shall never leave us!'"
The old man's voice broke down on the last sentence, and his eyes
filled with tears. But he soon recovered himself, saying--
"Before I lost my property, this son was an idler, and in such
danger that through fear of his being led astray, I was often in
great distress of mind. Necessity forced him into useful employment;
and you see the result. I lost some money, but saved my son. Am I
not richer in such love as he bears me to-day, than if, without his
love, I possessed a million of dollars? Am I not happier? I knew it
would all come out right. I had faith, and I tried to be patient. It
is coming out right."
"But the wrong that has been done," said Mr. Fanshaw. "The injustice
that exists. Here is a scoundrel, a robber, in the peaceful
enjoyment of your goods, while you are in want."
"We do not envy such peace as his. The robber has no peace. He never
dwells in security; but is always armed, and on the watch. As for
me, it has so turned out that I have never lacked for food and
raiment."
"Still, there is the abstract wrong, the evil triumphing over the
good," said Mr. Fanshaw.
"How do you reconcile that with your faith in Providence?"
"What I see clearly, as to myself," was replied, "fully justifies
the ways of God to man. Am I the gainer or the loser by misfortune?
Clearly the gainer.
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