“Don’t you think, sir,” he concluded, with a facetious air, “that Providence sometimes makes a mistake in these matters?”
The question was addressed to the minister.
“No, never!” exclaimed Mr. Durnford, with an emphasis which caused Mr. Caske to start so violently, that the stem of his pipe, which he had just replaced in his mouth, clattered against his teeth. “No, never! And least of all in the case of friend Horn.”
The three critics of “the Golden Shoemaker” stared at the minister in amazement. They had been led to think Mr. Durnford was substantially in agreement with their views.
“No, gentlemen,” he resumed, “my opinion is quite the reverse of yours. I believe this almost unlimited wealth has been given to our friend, because he is eminently fitted to be the steward of his Lord’s goods.”
This declaration was followed by an awkward pause, which Mr. Caske was the first to break.
“Perhaps you think, sir,” he said, in an injured tone, “that this upstart fellow is an example to us?”
“Mr. Caske,” responded the minister, “you have interpreted my words to a nicety.”
The three critics shuffled uneasily in their chairs.
“Yes,” continued Mr. Durnford, “an example and a reproach! Mr. Horn has the true idea of the responsibilities of a Christian man of wealth; you have missed it. He is resolved to use his money for God, to whom it belongs; you spend yours on yourselves—except in as far as you hoard it up you know not for whom or what. He is never satisfied that he is giving enough away; you grumble and groan over every paltry sovereign with which you are induced to part. He will be able to give a good account of his stewardship when the Lord comes; there will be an awkward reckoning for you in that day.”