steer after a fashion, yet we must
sail according to the winds and currents. After what I have done, what
might I not have done? That I have still the courage to attempt my life,
that I am not now overladen with dishonours, to whom do I owe it but to
the gentle ordering of circumstances in the great design? More has not
been done to me than I can bear; I have been marvellously restrained and
helped; not unto us, O Lord! (2) I cannot forgive God for the suffering
of others; when I look abroad upon His world and behold its cruel
destinies, I turn from Him with disaffection; nor do I conceive that He
will blame me for the impulse. But when I consider my own fates, I grow
conscious of His gentle dealing: I see Him chastise with helpful blows,
I feel His stripes to be caresses; and this knowledge is my comfort that
reconciles me to the world. (3) All those whom I now pity with
indignation, are perhaps not less fatherly dealt with than myself. I do
right to be angry: yet they, perhaps, if they lay aside heat and temper,
and reflect with patience on their lot, may find everywhere, in their
worst trials, the same proofs of a divine affection. (4) While we have
little to try us, we are angry with little; small annoyances do not bear
their justification on their faces; but when we are overtaken by a great
sorrow or perplexity, the greatness of our concern sobers us so that we
see more clearly and think with more consideration. I speak for myself;
nothing grave has yet befallen me but I have been able to reconcile my
mind to its occurrence, and see in it, from my own little and partial
point of view, an evidence of a tender and protecting God. Even the
misconduct into which I have been led has been blessed to my
improvement. If I did not sin, and that so glaringly that my conscience
is convicted on the spot, I do not know what I should become, but I feel
sure I should grow worse. The man of very regular conduct is too often a
prig, if he be not worse--a rabbi. I, for my part, want to be startled
out of my conceits; I want to be put to shame in my own eyes; I want to
feel the bridle in my mouth, and be continually reminded of my own
weakness and the omnipotence of circumstances. (5) If I from my
spy-hole, looking with purblind eyes upon the least part of a fraction
of the universe, yet perceive in my own destiny some broken evidences
of a plan and some signals of an overruling goodness; shall I then be so
mad as to complain that all