"
The remaining letter, written by return of post, must now be given. It
has the merit of brevity.
"Dear Theobald,--I have received yours. I am at a loss to conceive
its motive, but am very clear as to its effect. You shall not receive
a single sixpence from me till you come to your senses. Should you
persist in your folly and wickedness, I am happy to remember that I
have yet other children whose conduct I can depend upon to be a source
of credit and happiness to me.--Your affectionate but troubled father,
G. PONTIFEX."
I do not know the immediate sequel to the foregoing correspondence, but
it all came perfectly right in the end. Either Theobald's heart failed
him, or he interpreted the outward shove which his father gave him, as
the inward call for which I have no doubt he prayed with great
earnestness--for he was a firm believer in the efficacy of prayer. And
so am I under certain circumstances. Tennyson has said that more things
are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of, but he has wisely
refrained from saying whether they are good things or bad things. It
might perhaps be as well if the world were to dream of, or even become
wide awake to, some of the things that are being wrought by prayer.
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