It seems so clear to us that you have a call, that I find it hard to realise that you yourself are uncertain. But the very fact that you have been 'counting the cost,' and that you have no ecstatic joy at the prospect before you, encourages me. I am glad you realise the difficulties beforehand. What you don't fully see is the strength upon which you will be able to draw. I often think of those lines of Tennyson:-- O living Will that shalt endure When all that seems shall suffer shock, Rise in the spiritual rock, Flow through our deeds and make them pure.[1] That Will can transform our will, and the very weakness of our natural will is then a help. The strength {147} is seen and felt to come from an invisible source: 'Thy will, not my will.' The terrible need of men to fight against the forces of evil impresses me. The call is so loud on every side. And if men like you cannot hear it, I am driven almost to despair. . . . I often think of my father's words on his deathbed: 'If I had a thousand lives I would give them all--all to the ministry.' The thought that gave me comfort at my own ordination was a text suggested to me by my brother: 'He had in His right hand seven stars.' In His right hand--we are safe there. I felt such a worm as I had never felt before. 'But fear not, thou worm Jacob.' . . . Don't look for happiness or peace at this time, but for the presence and power (whether felt or unfelt) of that God whom we both love and try to love better. Do not persuade yourself that you do not love God. You do, more than you have any idea of. The part of your 'Ego' which you would least wish to lose is not even your love for men--but for God. If you had your choice now, and had to decide what part of your being you would retain for eternity, it would be the latter. Beloved, if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart. . . . 'He who loves makes his own the grandeur that he loves.' _He had in His right hand seven stars_. He is the Judge, but He also is our refuge and strength and hope. [1] _In Memoriam_, cxxi. {148} _To D. B. K._ Cambridge: July 1901. When we set to work to help others we discover something of our own weakness. But along with that discovery comes the realisation of an inexhaustible fund of strength outside ourselves. We are fighting on the winning side. God must be stronger than all that opposes. It is uphill work, especially at first. But just as in learning a language or learning how to swim, after toiling on with no apparent result, there comes a day when suddenly we realise that we can do it--how we know not: so it is in spiritual matters. There is effort still, sometimes gruesome effort; but it is all different from what it was. We find the meaning of the paradox, 'Whose service is perfect freedom.' Love takes the place of law, and, although it is hard at times to serve God, it is still harder to be the permanent servant of Satan.