dency to cherish the difficult and excellent grace of humility; they
may, however, help to foster rather than to subdue a spirit of
discontent, if they are performed from a motive of obtaining any, even
the most exalted, human approbation. They must be done to God alone, and
then the promise is sure, "thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward
thee openly."[12] Thus, too, the art of contentment may be much more
easily learnt. Disappointment will surely sour your temper if you look
forward to human appreciation of a self-denying habit of life; but when
the approbation of God is the object sought for, no neglect from others
can excite discontent or much regret. For here there can be no
disappointment: that which comes to us through the day has all been
decreed by him, and as it must therefore give us opportunities of
fulfilling his will, and gaining his approbation, we must necessarily
"be content."

It must, indeed, be always owing to some deficiency in religious
principle, that one discontented thought is suffered to dwell in the
mind. If our heart and our treasure were in heaven,[13] should we be
easily excited to regret and irritation about the inconveniences of our
position on earth? If we sought "first the kingdom of God and his
righteousness,"[14] should we have so much energy remaining to waste on
petty worldly annoyances? If we obeyed the injunction, "have faith in
God," should we daily and hourly, by our sinful murmuring, imply such
doubts of the divine attributes of wisdom, love, and power? This is a
want of faith you do not manifest towards men. You would trust yourself
fearlessly to the care of some earthly physician; you would believe that
he understood how to adapt his strengthening or lowering remedies to
each varying feature of your case; you would even provide yourself with
remedies, which, on the faith of his skill, you would trustingly use to
meet every symptom that might arise on future occasions. But when the
Great Physician manifests a still greater watchfulness to adapt his
daily discipline to your varying temper and the different stages of your
Christian growth, you murmur--you believe not in his wisdom as you do in
that of the sons of earth.

Do not, then, take his wisdom on faith alone; you must indeed believe,
you must believe or perish; but it may be as yet too difficult a lesson
for you to believe against sense, against feeling. What I would urge
upon you is, to strengthen your weak faith