is sometimes a consequence of sin, but it is not a vindictive punishment; it is that we may learn our mistake.  But we must give up the revengeful idea of God:  that is imported into our scale of values by the grossest anthropomorphism.  Only the weak man, who fears that his safety will be menaced if he does not make an example, deals in revenge.  He is indignant at anything which mortifies his vanity, which implies any doubt of his power or any disregard of his wishes.  Revenge is born of terror, and to think of God as vindictive is to think of Him as subject to fear.  Serene and unquestioned strength can have nothing to do with fear.  Milton is largely responsible for perpetuating this belief.  He makes the Almighty say to the Son—­

  “Let us advise, and to this hazard draw
   With speed what force is left, and all employ
   In our defence, lest unawares we lose
   This our high place, our sanctuary, our hill.”

Milton’s idea of the Almighty was frankly that of a Power who had undertaken more than he could manage, and who had allowed things to go too far.  But it is a puerile conception of God; and to allow ourselves to think or speak of God as a Power that has to take precautions, or that has anything to fear from the exercise of human volition, is to cloud the whole horizon at once.

But we ought rather to think of God as a Power which for some reason works through imperfection.  The battle of the world is that of force against inertness:  and our fears are the shadow of that combat.

Fear should then rather show us that we are being confronted with experience; and that our duty is to disregard it, to march forward through it, to come out on the other side of it.  It is all an adventure, in fact!  The disaster in which we are involved is not sent to show us that the Eternal Power which created us is vexed at our failures, or bent on crushing us.  It is exactly the opposite; it is to show us that we are worth testing, worth developing, and that we are to have the glory of going on; the very fear of death is the last test of our belief in Love.  We are assuredly meant to believe that the coward is to learn the beauty of courage, that the laggard is to perceive the worth of energy, that the selfish man is to be taught sympathy.  If we must take a metaphor, let us rather think of God as the graver of the gem than as the child that beats her doll for collapsing instead of sitting upright.

It is our dishonouring thought of God as jealous, suspicious, fond of exhibiting power, revengeful, cruel, that does us harm.  We must rather think of His Heart as full of courage, energy, and hope; as teeming with joy, lightness, zest, mirth; and then we can begin to think of failures, fears, delays as things small and unimportant, not as malicious ambushes, but as rough bits of road, as obstacles to reveal and to develop our strength and gaiety.  There is no joy in the world so great as the joy of finding