"You think, perhaps, that God, having gone so far to make this world a pleasant and comfortable place to live in, might have gone farther and made it quite pleasant and comfortable for everybody?" "Whoever could make it at all could ha' done that, grannie." "Then, as he hasn't done it, the probability is he didn't mean to do it?" "Of course. That's what I complain of." "Then he meant to do something else?" "It looks like it." "The whole affair has an unfinished look, you think?" "I just do." "What if it were not meant to stand, then? What if it were meant only for a temporary assistance in carrying out something finished and lasting, and of unspeakably more importance? Suppose God were building a palace for you, and had set up a scaffold, upon which he wanted you to help him; would it be reasonable in you to complain that you didn't find the scaffold at all a comfortable place to live in?--that it was draughty and cold? This World is that scaffold; and if you were busy carrying stones and mortar for the palace, you would be glad of all the cold to cool the glow of your labor." "I'm sure I work hard enough when I get a job as my heyesight will enable me to do," said Evans, missing the spirit of her figure. "Yes: I believe you do. But what will all the labor of a workman who does not fall in with the design of the builder come to? You may say you don't understand the design: will you say also that you are under no obligation to put so much faith in the builder, who is said to be your God and Father, as to do the thing he tells you? Instead of working away at the palace, like men, will you go on tacking bits of matting and old carpet about the corners of the scaffold to keep the wind off, while that same wind keeps tearing them away and scattering them? You keep trying to live in a scaffold, which not all you could do to all eternity would make a house of. You see what I mean, Mr. Evans?" "Well, not ezackly," replied the blind man. "I mean that God wants to build you a house whereof the walls shall be _goodness_: you want a house whereof the walls shall be _comfort_. But God knows that such walls cannot be built,--that that kind of stone crumbles away in the foolish workman's hands. He would make you comfortable; but neither is that his first object, nor can it be gained without the first, which is to make you good. He loves you so much that he would infinitely rather have you good and uncomfortable, for then he could take you to his heart as his own children, than comfortable and not good, for then he could not come near you, or give you any thing he counted worth having for himself or worth giving to you." "So," said Jarvis, "you've just brought us round, grannie, to the same thing as before."