"You know I didn't mean that." Mr. Osborn worked briskly, and sent the shavings almost to the ceiling. "But still—lots of men have told me that material prosperity renders faith easy and doubt difficult. That's the awful danger of trouble—the danger of thinking that God has deserted us. It's easiest to recognize His hand when all's going well with us. That's our poor human nature. And then when our sorrows come, it's the devil's innings, and he'll whisper: 'Where's God now? He isn't treating you very kindly, is He, in return for all your praying and kneeling and believing?'"
"Yes, that just hits the nail on the head. It was what I said—at a period when trouble fell upon me. It was how the doubt came in and the belief went out. And nowadays, when, as you mention, things run smooth and I know I've much to be thankful for, the doubt holds firm. For one thing prob'bly, I read a great deal; I've crammed my head with science; can't ever have enough of it. But, of course, I'm but an ignorant man compared with you."
"Oh, no."
"Yes. I bow down to education—whenever I meet it. I needn't apologize—because I hadn't many advantages. I try to make up by application. I read, and I'm always thinking—and having mastered the rudiments of science, I can look with some comprehension at the whole scheme of nature. With the result that, viewing my own affairs in the same spirit that I view the whole bag of tricks, I ask myself that same old question of Q. I. Bono."
"What's that?"
"That's Latin," said Dale. "Q. I. Bono."
"Oh, yes—exactly."
"Where's the good? Whatever one has, it isn't enough if this life is all we've got to look to and there's nothing beyond it."
Mr. Osborn had let the wheels run down. He came and sat opposite to Dale, and spoke very quietly.
"There is everything beyond it."