is own comfort; and though we read at different
times that he both hungered and thirsted, yet it was not for his own
gratification that he once changed water into wine; and I have often
been struck with the near position of that chapter in which this
miracle is recorded, to that in which he thirsted for a draught of
water at the well in Samaria.[14] It was for others, not himself,
that even the humble sustenance of barley-bread was multiplied. See
here, we have a bed left us (I had, indeed, nothing but straw to
stuff it with), but the Saviour of the world "had not where to lay
his head."' My husband smiled through his tears, and we sat down to
supper. It consisted of a roll and a bit of cheese which I had
brought with me, and we ate it thankfully. Seeing Mr. Simpson
beginning to relapse into distrust, the following conversation, as
nearly as I can remember, took place between us. He began by
remarking, that it was a mysterious Providence that he had been less
prosperous since he had been less attached to the world, and that
his endeavors had not been followed by that success which usually
attends industry. I took the liberty to reply: 'Your heavenly Father
sees on which side your danger lies, and is mercifully bringing you,
by these disappointments, to trust less in the world and more in
himself. My dear Mr. Simpson,' added I, 'we trust every body but
God. As children, we obey our parents implicitly, because we are
taught to believe all is for our good which they command or forbid.
If we undertake a voyage, we trust entirely to the skill and conduct
of the pilot; we never torment ourselves in thinking he will carry
us east, when he has promised to carry us west. If a dear and tried
friend makes us a promise, we depend on him for the performance, and
do not wound his feelings by our suspicions. When you used to go
your annual journey to London, in the mail-coach, you confided
yourself to the care of the coachman that he would carry you where
he had engaged to do so; you were not anxiously watching him, and
distrusting and inquiring at every turning. When the doctor sends
home your medicine, don't you so fully trust in his ability and good
will that you swallow it down in full confidence? You never think of
inquiring what are the ingredients, why they are mixed in that
particular way, why there is more of one and less of another, and
why they are bitter instead of sweet! If one dose does not cure you,
he orders another, a