s, is it not a false idea of greatness, to suppose the
Infinite Greatness cannot [327] regard me? Worldly great men shrink from
little things, from little people. But it is not so with the most truly
great. They come down in art, in poetry, in eloquence, in true learning,
to instruct and lift up the lowly and ignorant.

And again I say, when trying to reckon up the account with myself before
I sink into unconsciousness, thinking of this bodily frame, with its
million harmonious agencies, and the mind more wonderful still; or when
I sit down in my daily walk, and sink into the bosom of nature, with
light and life and beauty all around me,--surely the author of all this
is good. It would be monstrous fatuity to question it, utter blindness
not to see it.

And yet again, I say, there are relations between the finite and the
Infinite, between my mind and the Infinite mind, between my weakness
and the Infinite power. And why should conscious Omnipresence in our
conception localize it? Presence is not limited to contact. I am present
here in my room; I am present in the field where I sit down. Why, with
the whole universe, should not the Infinite Being thus be present?

What a wonderful chapter is the twenty-third of Job! There are many
things in that book which touch upon our modern experience. "Oh! that I
knew where I might find him, that I might come near even to his seat.
I go forward, but he is not there, and backward, but I cannot perceive
him; on the left hand where he cloth work, but I cannot behold him; for
he hideth himself on the right hand that I cannot see him." But I come
with undoubting faith to Job's conclusion: "But he knoweth the way that
I take; when he hath tried me I shall come forth as gold." There are
deep trials, at times, in the approach to God, in lifting the weak
thoughts of our minds to the [328] Infinite One; there are struggles and
tears which none may ever witness; but still I say, "0 God, thou art my
God, early will I seek thee,"--ever will I seek thee. Let him who will,
or must, walk out from this fair, bright, glowing world, thrilling all
the world in us with joy, upon the cold and dreary waste of atheism; I
will not. I should turn rebel to all the great instincts within me, and
all the great behests of nature and life around me, if I did. Ah! the
confounding, ever-troubling difficulty is not to believe, but to feel
the great Presence all the day long. This is what I think of, and long
have