



Produced by Charles Aldarondo.  HTML version by Al Haines.









ALL'S FOR THE BEST.


BY

T. S. ARTHUR.




PHILADELPHIA:

1869.





CONTENTS.


    I. FAITH AND PATIENCE.
   II. IS HE A CHRISTIAN?
  III. "RICH AND RARE WERE THE GEMS SHE WORE."
   IV. NOT AS A CHILD.
    V. ANGELS IN THE HEART.
   VI. CAST DOWN, BUT NOT DESTROYED.
  VII. GOOD GROUND.
 VIII. GIVING THAT DOTH NOT IMPOVERISH.
   IX. WAS IT MURDER, OR SUICIDE?
    X. THE NURSERY MAID.
   XI. MY FATHER.
  XII. THE CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN.






ALL'S FOR THE BEST.




I.

FAITH AND PATIENCE.


"_I HAVE_ no faith in anything," said a poor doubter, who had trusted
in human prudence, and been disappointed; who had endeavored to walk by
the lumine of self-derived intelligence, instead of by the light of
divine truth, and so lost his way in the world. He was fifty years old!
What a sad confession for a man thus far on the journey of life. "No
faith in anything."

"You have faith in God, Mr. Fanshaw," replied the gentleman to whom the
remark was made.

"In God? I don't know him." And Mr. Fanshaw shook his head, in a
bewildered sort of way. There was no levity in his manner. "People talk
a great deal about God, and their knowledge of him," he added, but not
irreverently. "I think there is often more of pious cant in all this
than of living experience. You speak about faith in God. What is the
ground of your faith?"

"We have internal sight, as well as external sight."

There was no response to this in Mr. Fanshaw's face.

"We can see with the mind, as well as with the eyes."

"How?"

"An architect sees the building, in all its fine proportions, with the
eyes of his mind, before it exists in space visible to his bodily eyes."

"Oh! that is your meaning, friend Wilkins," said Mr. Fanshaw, his
countenance brightening a little.

"In part," was replied. "That he can see the building in his mind,
establishes the fact of internal sight."

"Admitted; and what then?"

"Admitted, and we pass into a new world--the world of spirit."

Mr. Fanshaw shook his head, and closed his lips tightly.

"I don't believe in spirits," he answered.

"You believe in your own spirit."

"I don't know that I have any spirit."

"You think and feel in a region distinct from the body," said Mr.
Wilkins.

"I can't say as to that."

"You can think of justice, of equity, of liberty?"

"Yes."

"As abstract rights; as things essential, and out of the region of
simple matter. The body doesn't think; it is the soul."

"Very well. For argument's sake, let all this be granted. I don't wish
to cavil. I am in no mood for that. And now, as to the ground of your
faith in God."

"Convictions," answered Mr. Wilkins, "are real things to a man.
Impressions are one thing; convictions another. The first are like
images on a glass; the others like figures in a textile fabric. The
first are made in an instant of time, and often pass as quickly; the
latter are slowly wrought in the loom of life, through daily experience
and careful thought. Herein lies the ground of my faith in God;--it is
an inwrought conviction. First I had the child's sweet faith transfused
into my soul with a mother's love, and unshadowed by a single doubt.
Then, on growing older, as I read the Bible, which I believe to be
God's word, I saw that its precepts were divine, and so the child's
faith was succeeded by rational sight. Afterwards, as I floated off
into the world, and met with storms that wrecked my fondest hopes; with
baffling winds and adverse currents; with perils and disappointments,
faith wavered sometimes; and sometimes, when the skies were dark and
threatening, my mind gave way to doubts. But, always after the storm
passed, and the sun came out again, have I found my vessel unharmed,
with a freight ready for shipment of value far beyond what I had lost.
I have thrown over, in stress of weather, to save myself from being
engulfed, things that I had held to be very precious--thrown them over,
weeping. But, after awhile, things more precious took their
place--goodly pearls, found in a farther voyage, which, but for my
loss, would not have been ventured.

"Always am I seeing the hand of Providence--always proving the divine
announcement, 'The very hairs of your head are numbered.' Is there not
ground for faith here? If the word of God stand in agreement