many amiable qualities; but does not everybody see that his besetting
sin is selfishness? He fixes his mind on certain objects, and takes
inordinate interest in them because they are his own, and those very
objects, through the providence of God, which is kindness in disguise,
becomes snakes and scorpions to whip him. Tired of various pursuits, he
at last becomes an author, and publishes a book, which is very much
admired, and which he loves with his usual inordinate affection. The
book, consequently, becomes a viper to him, and at last he flings it
aside and begins another. The book, however, is not flung aside by the
world, who are benefited by it, deriving pleasure and knowledge from it;
so the man who merely wrote to gratify self has already done good to
others, and got himself an honourable name. But God will not allow that
man to put that book under his head and use it as a pillow; the book has
become a viper to him, he has banished it, and is about another, which he
finishes and gives to the world. It is a better book than the first, and
everyone is delighted with it, but it proves to the writer a scorpion
because he loves it with inordinate affection; but it was good for the
world that he produced this book, which stung him as a scorpion. Yes,
and good for himself, for the labour of writing it amused him, and
perhaps prevented him from dying of apoplexy. But the book is banished,
and another is begun, and herein, again, is the providence of God
manifested; the man has the power of producing still, and God determines
that he shall give to the world what remains in his brain, which he would
not do had he been satisfied with the second work; he would have gone to
sleep upon that as he would upon the first, for the man is selfish and
lazy. In his account of what he suffered during the composition of this
work, his besetting sin of selfishness is manifest enough; the work on
which he is engaged occupies his every thought--it is his idol, his
deity, it shall be all his own, he won't borrow a thought from anyone
else, and he is so afraid lest, when he publishes it, that it should be
thought that he had borrowed from anyone, that he is continually touching
objects, his nervous system, owing to his extreme selfishness, having
become partly deranged. He is left touching, in order to banish the evil
chance from his book, his deity. No more of his history is given; but
does the reader think that God will permit that