and march like mere machines. But disappointment
comes on us. Sorrow checks our course, and we are forced
to think and feel,—must march now up hill, and then
down, shifting the strain from part to part. In mere prosperity most men are contented to enlarge their estate, their social rank, their daily joy, and lift their children's faces to the vulgar level of the vulgar flood whereon their fathers float. There comes some new adventure to change and mend all this. Now it is a great joy, success not looked for,—some kindred soul is made one with us, and on the pinions of instinctive connubial love we fly upwards and enlarge our intercourse with God,—the object of passion a communion angel to lead the human soul to a higher seat in the universe and a more intimate acquaintance with the Soul of all. Sometimes the birth of a new immortal into our arms does this, and on the pinions of instinctive affection men soar up to heaven and bring back healing on their wings,—the object of affection the communion angel to convey and welcome them to heaven.
Sometimes it is none of these, but sorrow, grief, and disappointment, that do this. I set my heart upon a special thing;—it is not mine, or if I get the honour, the money, the social rank I sought, it was one thing in my eye and another in my grasp. The one bird which I saw in the bush was worth ten like that I hold in my hand. The things I loved are gone,—the maid, the lover, husband, wife, or child; the mortal is taken from longing arms. The heart looks up for what can never die. Then there is a marriage and a birth, not into your arms, but out of them and into heaven ; and the sorrow and the loss stir you to woo and win that Object of the soul which cannot pass away. Your sorrow takes you on her wings, and you go up higher than before ; higher than your success, higher than friendship's daily wing ascends ; higher than your early love for married mate had ever borne you up ; higher than the delight in your first-born child or latest born. You have a new communion with your Father, and get a great amount of inspiration from Him.
This is the obvious use of such vicissitudes, and seems a portion of their final cause. In the artificial, ecclesiastical life of monasteries, men aim to reproduce this part of nature's discipline, and so have times of watching, fasting,
