convinced that, we have no right to complain of either:  I do not mean merely the labour to put things in the right point of view:  but the moral effort to look fairly at the facts not in any way disguised,—­not tricked out by some skilful art of putting things;—­and yet to repress all wrong feeling;—­all fretfulness, envy, jealousy, dislike, hatred.  I do not mean, to persuade ourselves that the grapes are sour; but (far nobler surely) to be well aware that they are sweet, and yet be content that another should have them and not we.  I mean the labour, when you have run in a race and been beaten, to resign your mind to the fact that you have been beaten, and to bear a kind feeling towards the man who beat you.  And this is labour, and hard labour; though very different from that physical exertion which the uncivilized man would understand by the word.  Every one can understand that to carry a heavy portmanteau a mile is work.  Not every one remembers that the owner of the portmanteau, as he walks on carrying nothing weightier than an umbrella, may be going through exertion much harder than that of the porter.  Probably St. Paul never spent days of harder work in all his life, than the days he spent lying blind at Damascus, struggling to get free from the prejudices and convictions of all his past years, and resolving—­on the course he would pursue in the years to come.

I know that in all professions and occupations to which men can devote themselves, there is such a thing as com petition:  and wherever there is competition, there will be the temptation to envy, jealousy, and detraction, as regards a man’s competitors:  and so there will be the need of that labour and exertion which lie in resolutely trampling that temptation down.  You are quite certain, rny friend, as you go on through life, to have to make up your mind to failure and disappointment on your own part, and to seeing other men preferred before you.  When these tilings come, there are two ways of meeting them.  One is, to hate and vilify those who surpass you, either in merit or in success:  to detract from their merit and under-rate their success:  or, if you must admit some merit, to bestow upon it very faint praise.  Now, all this is natural enough; but assuredly it is neither a right nor a happy course to follow.  The other and better way is, to fight these tendencies to the death:  to struggle against them, to pray against them:  to resign yourself to God’s good will:  to admire and love the man who beats you.  This course is the right one, and the happy one.  I believe the greatest blessing God can send a man, is disappointment, rightly met and used.  There is no more ennobling discipline:  there is no discipline that results in a happier or kindlier temper of mind.  And in honestly fighting against the evil impulses which have been mentioned, you will assuredly get help and strength to vanquish them.  I have seen the plain features look beautiful, when man or woman was faithfully by God’s grace