2. There have been times when thoughts like these involved men in serious perplexity as to the compatibility of Divine election with the freedom of the human will. And great caution was then needed in their treatment. But our age, as a whole, has reacted from all such tendencies ;:,and our danger lies in the very opposite direction, that of doubting, or at least ignoring, a particular providence in human affairs. We tend to forget that not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father ; and that the very hairs of our head are numbered. We can hardly, therefore, in the present day insist too much upon the thought that our choice and pursuance of a profession in life means our acceptance or rejection of a Divine vocation.
\yi Master Joachim Morlein has pleased me well to-day with his sermon, for he spoke of the office and vocation of a wife, and ^ J. E. lUingworth. ^ Luther. ^ Sidney Lanier.
254 THE CALL OF SAMUEL
a maid-servant — namely, that a wife should think she lives in a Holy Order, and that a servant also may know that her works are good and holy works. This the people can carry home.i
3. The call may need interpretation. Here again the case of Samuel comes before us. The voice which called him was interpreted by Eli. "Eli perceived that the Lord had called the child." And all our secret inspirations need a similar process of testing, in the light of our own experience or that of others. Their congruity with our character and circumstances, their relation to our own past prayers, the aspect which they present to unbiased advisers of spiritual mind, their correspondence with what we know of the ways in which others have been led, the degree of their persistence under adverse conditions, are among the points to be considered as throwing light upon our vocation. And when such considerations coincide with and confirm the outward guidance of our circumstances and the inward attraction which we believe to be Divine, we may go forward in the hope that the Lord is with us, and will " let none of our words fall to the ground."
^ And then, Mary, you (I think rightly, in the general) speak much of the intention of God in earthly events by which He deals with us : what then would you say about my case ? Do these two years and more waiting not show that I am seeking my work in the wrong direction, or why do they not show this, or how long would show this ? Possibly you may say, " Wait till some evident call to some other work arises " ; but then, of course, evident calls enough would soon arise were I to put myself in the way of them, e.g., were I to go along to Clark the publisher and ask him for some work, or go out to Harvey of Merchiston and ask him for some; whereas, so long as I keep myself back from such openings they are not a tenth part so likely to arise. But apart from growlery, let me give you a problem, I will give it you in the concrete, as being easier stated and easier apprehended. Is it right of me to wait and see whether I get a call or no, and let this decide whether I ought or ought not to take a charge ? To me it seems not (though it's just what I'm doing), and on this ground, because in fact we find that God has often suffered men to enter the Church who were not worthy — because, that is, the call of the people does not always represent the call of God.*
* Luther, * M. Dods, in JEarly Letters of Marcus Dods, 198.
I SAMUEL III. lo 255
4. But while the call sometimes needs interpretation, the responsibility for hearing it is always our own ; and we must not be withdrawn from the path of duty by the wishes or fears of others, still less by considerations of how our course of conduct may appear in their eyes. There is, as usual, deep truth in Shakespeare's words, " To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man."
As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of green
To the billows of foam-crested blue, Yon bark that afar in the distance is seen,
Half dreaming, my eyes will pursue : Now dark in the shadow, she scatters the spray
As the chaff in the stroke of the flail ; Now white as the sea-gull, she flies on her way.
The sun gleaming bright on her sail.
Yet her pilot is thinking of dangers to shun, —
Of breakers that whiten and roar; How little he cares, if in shadow or sun
They see him that gaze from the shore ! He looks to the beacon that looms from the reef,
To the rock that is under his lee, As he drifts on the blast, like a wind-wafted leaf,
O'er the gulfs of the desolate sea.
Thus drifting afar to the dim-vaulted caves
Where life and its ventures are laid, The dreamers who gaze while we battle the waves
May see us in sunshine or shade ; Yet true to our course, though our shadow grow dark,