no reason why we should regard that as evil, or think ourselves hardly
used, because we are not fair-weather sailors. The end of life is to
make men; the meaning of all events is to mould character. Anything
that makes me stronger is a blessing, anything that develops my
_morale_ is the highest good that can come to me. If therefore
antagonism mould in me

'The wrestling thews that throw the world,'

and give me good, strong muscles, and put tan and colour into my
cheek, I need not mind the cold and the wet, nor care for the
whistling of the wind in my face, nor the dash of the spray over the
bows. Summer sailing in fair weather, amidst land-locked bays, in blue
seas, and under calm skies, may be all very well for triflers, but

'Blown seas and storming showers'

are better if the purpose of the voyage be to brace us and call out
our powers.

And so be thankful if, when the boat is crossing the mouth of some
glen that opens upon the lake, a sudden gust smites the sheets and
sends you to the helm, and takes all your effort to keep you from
sinking. Do not murmur, or think that God's Providence is strange,
because many and many a time when 'it is dark, and Jesus is not yet
come to us,' the storm of wind comes down upon the lake and threatens
to drive us from our course. Let us rather recognise Him as the Lord
who, in love and kindness, sends all the different kinds of weather
which, according to the old proverb, make up the full-summed year.