fence of our indolence and wilfulness, our slow steps in the path of progress, our casting down of appointed fardels on the road, crying out that they are greater than we can bear. And yet, while we are sending up this heaven-upbraiding wail, how startled and shocked we would be at the assertion that we had no faith in the existence of a Supreme Being. But if we do really believe in that All-potent Ruler, can we imagine that the destinies of those creatures he fashioned to be recipients of his bounty (a "God of Love" could not have created them for any other purpose), are mere accidents, independent of his will and providence, though subject to his cognizance? He who, in his inmost soul, believes in chance, believes not in God at all.
However unequal, and apparently unjust, may seem the distribution of worldly gifts, of talents, of success, of happiness, if there be truth in the assertion that a sparrow falls not to the ground without the knowledge of our Heavenly Father, that the very hairs of our head are numbered, an immutable law of wisdom must rule over the most insignificant, as over the most important events of our lives. That law, through all its mysterious workings, can only have for its end the promotion of our eternal happiness. How, then, shall we escape the conviction that every one, during this, his probationary life, is allowed just the amount of success and prosperity, is subjected to just the
