and the commanding, of all orders of being, is not the whole of the dominion which can be exercised over man.  The rule, which we share with the trees of the field and the tribes of life, is not all; and the unwilling control which the thought of an overruling Providence demands that we shall believe that God exercises over all the workings of men—­that is not enough.  And the terrible bending of men into unconscious instruments, by which He that sitteth in the heavens laughs at princes’ and rulers’ counsel, speaking to the tyrant as the rod of His anger, using men as the axe with which He hews, and the staff in His hand, and then casting away the tool into the fire—­that is not the kingdom that men are made to be.  Something more, even the loving, willing submission of heart and life to Him is possible, is needed, unless, indeed, it is true that a man hath no pre-eminence over a beast.  Enough for them that He feedeth them when they cry; enough for them that led they know not how, and fed by they know not whom, they live they know not why, do they know not what, and die they know not when.  But ’be ye not as the horse or the mule which have no understanding’; it is our prerogative to be led by His eye speaking to the heart, not by His bridle appealing to the sense; to do Him loyal service, to understand His purposes, to sympathise with them, and sympathising to execute.  This our prayer gives us the clear distinction, then, between mere blind obedience and the true goal of man.  The kingdom is other and better than the creature-wide dominion.

And then, this prayer reposes on the confession that that higher, better form of obedience is not yet attained.  In a word, it can only be prayed aright by a man who feels that the world has gone away from God and His commandments.  We separate ourselves by it from all who think that this present state is the natural condition of men, the order into which they were born, the kind of world which God intended; and we assert, in sight of all the evils and sore sorrows that fill the world, that this is not God’s intention.  People tell us that the doctrine of a fall, an earth which has departed from God, a race which has rebelled, is a gloomy and dark one, covering the face of life with sackcloth.  But it seems to me that instead of being so, it is the only conviction that can make a man bear to see the world as it is.  Brethren, which of these two is the gloomy—­the creed that says, Look at all these men dying—­in dumb ignorance, living in brutal sin; look at blood, rapine, lies, battlefields, broken hearts, hopes that never set to fruit but died in the bud, the stream of sad groans, and sadder curses, and wild mirth, saddest of all.  Look at it all, coming to pass on this fair earth amid the pomp of sunsets and the calm beauty of autumn, and beneath the cold stars, in a world where the noblest creature is the saddest, and accept for explanation that it is the necessary road for the perfecting of the creature; that it is all for the best, that it is exactly what God meant the world to be;—­or the creed which sees the same things and says:  ‘This is not what God intended:  an enemy hath done this’?  Sin hath entered into the world, and death by sin.