At last--and here, through his religion,
he came down to the only consolation possible for him--he said to
himself, "Thus hath He decreed; it is foolish to struggle against His
ordinances; we can but submit." "A poor gospel," says his critic.
Poor!--yes, it may be; but it is the gospel according to Job, and any
other is a mere mirage. "Doth the hawk fly by thy wisdom and stretch
her wings towards the south?" Confess ignorance and the folly of
insurrection, and there is a chance that even the irremediable will
be somewhat mitigated. Poor!--yes; but it is genuine; and this at
least must be said for Puritanism, that of all the theologies and
philosophies it is the most honest in its recognition of the facts;
the most real, if we penetrate to the heart of it, in the remedy
which it offers.
He found two small furnished rooms which would answer his purpose
till his own furniture should arrive, and he and his wife took
possession that same morning. He then wrote to his landlord in
London--a man whom he knew he could trust--and directed him to send
his goods. For the present, although he had no fear whatever of any
prosecution, he thought fit to adopt a feigned name, with which we
need not trouble ourselves.
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