See what this force is, in comparison with others that are tendered for our solace! One and another, and another, of our friends comes to us with an earnest pressing upon us of the “hope of relief,”--that talisman which looks so well till its virtues are tried! They tell us of renewed health and activity,--of what it will be to enjoy ease again,--to be useful again,--to shake off our troubles and be as we once were. We sigh, and say it may be so; but they see that we are neither roused nor soothed by it. Then one speaks differently,--tells us we shall never be better,--that we shall continue for long years as we are, or shall sink into deeper disease and death; adding, that pain and disturbance and death are indissolubly linked with the indestructible life of the soul, and supposing that we are willing to be conducted on in this eternal course by Him whose thoughts and ways are not as ours,--but whose tenderness.... Then how we burst in, and take up the word! What have we not to say, from the abundance of our hearts, of that benignity,--that transcendant wisdom,--our willingness,--our eagerness,--our sweet security,--till we are silenced by our unutterable joy! Whence this imbecility of the “hope of relief?” Whence this power of the idea of God our Father? Do we know of anything stronger and higher than ideas? In the strongest and highest,--(even an omnipotent and infinite) idea,--if we have not Truth, what _is_ Truth? SOME PERILS AND PAINS OF INVALIDISM. “But few that court retirement are aware Of half the toils they must encounter there.” COWPER. “We are not to repine, but we may lawfully struggle.” JOHNSON. I desire to notice, very briefly, some perils and pains of our condition,--briefly premising that, as only the initiated can fully sympathise, it will be sufficient, and therefore best, to indicate rather than expatiate. We are in ever-growing danger of becoming too abstract,--of losing our sympathy with passing emotions,--and particularly with those shared by numbers. There was a time when we went to public worship with others,--to the theatre,--to public meetings; when we were present at picnic parties and other festivals, and heard general conversation every day of our lives. Now, we are too apt to forget those times. The danger is, lest we should get to despise them, and to fancy ourselves superior to our former selves, because now we feel no social transports.