If we be asked whether it be proper to regard _all_ such dispensations
as judicial inflictions, we reply in the words of Cowper above:

"'Tis not for us, with rash surmise,
To point the judgments of the skies,
But judgments _plain as this_,
That, sent for man's instruction, bring
A written label on their wing,
'Tis hard to read amiss."

[A contribution full of touching simplicity follows:]

THE WORM.

Turn, turn, thy hasty foot aside
Nor crush that helpless worm;
The frame thy wayward looks deride,
Required a God to form.

The common Lord of all that move,
From whom thy being flowed,
A portion of his boundless love
On that poor worm bestowed.

The sun, the moon, the stars, he made
To all his creatures free;
And spread o'er earth the grassy blade
For worms as well as thee.