In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us.—ROM. viii. 37.
Thus my soul before her God
Lieth still, nor speaketh more,
Conqueror thus o’er pain and wrong,
That once smote her to the core;
Like a silent ocean, bright
With her God’s great praise and light.
J. J. WINCKLER.
My mind is forever closed against embarrassment and perplexity, against uncertainty, doubt, and anxiety; my heart against grief and desire. Calm and unmoved, I look down on all things, for I know that I cannot explain a single event, nor comprehend its connection with that which alone concerns me. In His world all things prosper; this satisfies me, and in this belief I stand fast as a rock. My breast is steeled against annoyance on account of personal offences and vexations, or exultation in personal merit; for my whole personality has disappeared in the contemplation of the purpose of my being.