THE RANDALL FAMILY I 53
and they are never absent from my thought, I feel as a child in some great manufactory filled with machinery. He sees with alarm an endless and complicated activity, universal motion ; he dares not move, lest he should be caught up by some wheel or belt, but never doubts the wisdom of each contrivance, though he knows it to be the work of human hands. So in the vast workshop of the world stand I, astonished, admiring, not daring to lift a finger even to avert my own fate, lest I should be drawn in and realize my fear. As the poet represents the lamb as kissing the hand that sheds its blood, so would I rev- erently submit myself to that inscrutable Intelligence whose designs I cannot fathom, and whose will I have not even the heart to resist. I believe — I hope — I had almost said I fear — all is for the best. 'Tis all I can say. I know no more.
Congratulate your wife for me on the recovery of her health, and Emily on that of her foot. I hope your wife will enjoy her piano, yet more the tossing of her baby. Tell her that Nature invented this tossing that the baby might be sure of exercise, while in a state too feeble to use its own limbs ; and doubt not that the child will also receive from me, though unseen, some faint reflection, at least, of that affection which I so long ago invested in its father. As for your desire to be with us, it is not greater than ours to meet you. Give my kind remembrance to your wife and sister. I bid you farewell for Anna, who also loved you, and am as ever,
Your friend,
J. W. Randall.
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