The butterfly dies of the frost--and there is an end of them.
But the manly life, the life of good deeds and noble thoughts, and
usefulness, and purity, the life which is discontented with itself, and
which the better it is, longs the more to be better still; the life which
will endure through this world into the world to come, and on and upward
for ever and for ever.--That life is not an easy life to live; it is very
often not a pleasant life; very often a sad life--so sad that that is
true of it which the great poet says--
"Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate,
Who never in the midnight hours
Sat weeping on his lonely bed,
He knows you not, you Heavenly Powers."
You may say this is bad news. I do not believe it is. I believe it is
good news, and the very best of news: but if it is bad news, I cannot
help it. I did not make it so. God made it so. And God must know best.
God is love. And we are His children, and He loves us. And therefore
His ways with us must be good and loving ways, and any news about them
must be good news, and a gospel, though we cannot see it so at first.
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