As the two men sat down the minister coughed a little, then he folded his hands meekly--his host knew what was coming. "I trust that you have become reconciled to this separation, dear Brother Forbes," he began solemnly, "and that you can say in your heart 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.'" Duncan Forbes did not answer for the space of a minute, during which time his pastor watched him furtively from under his eyebrows. "My son was my all," he muttered finally. "It is for his sake alone that I have lived and labored--that by the sweat of my brow I have accumulated my fortune." The minister sighed with unaffected sympathy. "Yet God in His mercy has taken him from you. He who seeth the end from the beginning knew what was best, dear brother, for your soul's salvation." "But of what use is my life now?" questioned Mr. Forbes sharply. "I am a broken reed with no ambition to lean upon. A man whose heart has been plucked by its roots from my body. Is there anything in our religion which can solace me, do you think? Is there a recompense for the sufferings of a heartbroken father?" "There is balm for every wound, Brother Forbes, if we seek it. Others have suffered your loss and been able to find it." Duncan Forbes sat back in his chair and stared straight before him. The words had brought to his mind unpleasant visions. In an instant he was back in his store again, where scores of pale-faced, hollow-eyed youths and maidens were moving about. They all had mothers and fathers or some one who loved them, yet, unlike his Jack, they were weighed down by poverty, the millstone of disease was about their necks, and he, Duncan Forbes, was relentlessly grinding the very spirit out of their frail bodies. He shuddered involuntarily and that brought him back to his senses. "Religion! what is it?" he asked unpleasantly. "Has it any practical value in the lives of mortals? I have been a church member for forty years, paying my dues in accordance with the terms of that institution and shirking none of its responsibilities. Now, at the hour of sorrow, I find myself facing my grief alone; there is no power in the church that can help me to bear it. What is religion, I say? Is it a mere mummery of speech? I have been religious all my life; now I find nothing in it!" "The fault is in you," said his caller, gravely. Both men had risen and stood facing each other. "You have been too occupied with other things, brother--too busy, you might say, with worldly matters to search for the spirit that pervades what you call 'mummery.' Surely in your love for Jack you appreciate something of the love of Christ for man; in your dealings with men and women you can realize His interest in humanity, and through your wealth you have the power to reap a harvest of good, yet how have you improved these opportunities?"