If this be true of resignation, what shall be said of tribulation,--of glorying in tribulation? A man awakens to find himself in poverty instead of in wealth; his possessions suddenly swept away; or from health, he, or some one whose life is still dearer to him than his own, prostrated with illness; or to find himself unjustly accused or maligned, or misunderstood, or to encounter some other of the myriad phases of what he calls misfortune and tribulation. How is he to endure it? How is he to go on, living his life, in all this pain, perplexity, trial, or annoyance, much less to "glory" in this atmosphere of tribulation? One is engaged, it may be, in a work for which it would seem that peace of mind and joy and radiance were his only working capital; his essential resources; and suddenly these vanish, and his world is in ruins. Clouds of misapprehension envelop him round about, and he can neither understand, himself, what has produced them, nor can he, by any entreaty or appeal, be permitted the vantage ground of full and clear explanation. And his energies are paralyzed; the golden glory that enfolded his days investing them with a magical enchantment, has gone, and a leaden sky shuts him into a gloomy and leaden atmosphere. It is not only himself, but his work; not only what he may feel, but what, also, he may not accomplish. And his work is of a nature that is not only his own expression, his contribution to the sum of living, but one which involves responsibility to others, and some way,--well or ill, as may be,--it must be done. Shall he, _can_ he, "glory" in this paralyzing pain and torture that so mysteriously has fallen upon him,--whose causes do not, so far as he can discern, lie in his own conduct, but in some impenetrable mystery of misapprehensions and misunderstandings; a tangled labyrinth to which he is denied the clue? Can he, indeed, facing all this torture and tragedy, with all that made the joy and light of life withdrawn,--can he encounter this form of tribulation with serene poise, with unfaltering purpose, with an intense and exalted faith? It is "not enjoyable," indeed, as Doctor Babcock, in the quotation above, at once concedes; but that the experience has a meaning,--a very profound meaning, one must believe; and believing this, he must feel that the responsibility rests on himself to accept this new significance that has, in an undreamed-of way, fallen into his life; to read its hidden lesson; to transmute it, by the miracle of divine grace, into something fairer and sweeter; to let its scorching fire make steel of that which was only iron. To accept, to believe, to _feel_ this, in every fibre of his nature, is to "glory" in the tribulation. It is to extract its best meaning, and to go on in life better equipped than before. "The tests of life are to _make_ and not _break_ us." Here is the truer view, and one that reveals the divine significance in all mysteries of human experience.