The outlook for the future was more than hopeful.  He could see no obstacle in the path of his ultimate victory.

There should be no more grinding down in the work-rooms where his goods were made, no undercutting of prices to ruin a brother merchant.

He should be just with others and they must be just with him or he would refuse absolutely to have dealings with them.

Every employee of his establishment should be suitably remunerated, and by this treatment he felt assured that he would receive their ablest service.

Co-operation in his humane work was all that he needed, and here, on his desk and in his books, was ample proof of this assistance.  He bowed his head in thanksgiving as he finished his reflections.

“Surely, with God all things are possible,” he murmured audibly, and then a thought of his son’s conversion and his wife’s gradual but sure return to reason with health brought a flow of happiness that irradiated his countenance.

A glimpse of starlit sky was visible through his window and Mr. Denton raised his eyes to it in solemn contemplation.

“Thy ways are not our ways,” he whispered humbly, “but though the cross is heavy and hard to bear, Thou wilt give Thy servant a just reward, and the end is peace—­peace that passeth understanding.”

The end.