This world would be a paradise then,
and one older and wiser in the learning of the schools, but not wiser
or better in the heart's affections, than that little girl, might well
wish to be a little bird, to fly around among the branches, the green
leaves, and the blossoms on the trees. And yet what presumption in
finite man to sit in judgment upon, or criticise the wisdom of the
Omnipotent God! How know we but that a single change, the slightest
alteration of a simple law, would go jarring through all the universe,
throwing everything into confusion, and bringing utter chaos, where
now all is order. The mother sees her little child die, she lays it in
its coffin, and surrenders it to the grave, and her heart rebels
against the Providence that snatched away her treasure. In her agony,
she appeals reproachfully to Heaven, and asks, 'Why am I thus
bereaved?' Foolish mother! impeach not the wisdom of your bereavement.
Mysterious as it may be, know this, that in the councils of eternity
your sorrows were considered, and the decree which took from you your
darling, was ordered in mercy. Pestilence sweeps over the land; a wail
is on the air. Peace, mourners, be still! The pestilence has a mission
of mercy, mysterious as it may be to us. The storm lashes the ocean
into fury; tall ships, freighted with human souls, go down into its
relentless depths; a shriek of agony comes gurgling up from the
devouring waters; a cry of woe is heard from a thousand homes over the
wrecked and the lost.
Pages:
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305