after all, lies in true humanity, true understanding of the feebleness
of our nature and our capacities. We do not overload an animal, merely
because it evinces a willingness to make an effort. We therefore must
not overweight our soul with sorrow. We must not nurse our woe. We must
not have that grand, conceited idea of our nobility which demands of us
a great long future of melancholy; but rather must we nurse our bodies,
suspecting our liver if our soul be heavy, and blaming our chamber if
our brow be clouded. Then, if a high intelligence wait at the couch of
our sick soul, as does faithful woman by an invalid, soon will vanish
all the clouds, soon will come a brighter vista in the journey of our
lives. We are as God has made us, weak, miserable and sinful. Let us
expect from ourselves conduct becoming a being weak, sinful and
miserable. It would seem that this is the secret of those great lives
who profit by adversity. They have charity, for they have erred. They
have hope, for it has been their true anchor, never failing. They have
withal more consistency than have we, though they have