ademical post; that is to
say, I received a confidential intimation that I should be elected if I
stood. The whole thing is confidential, so that I must not even tell
you what the offer was. I should have very much liked to talk it over
with you, but I had to make up my mind quickly; there was no time to
write, and, moreover, I feel sure that when I had turned out the pros
and cons of my own feelings for your inspection, you would have decided
as I did.

You will say at once that you do not know how I reconciled my refusal
with the cardinal article of my faith, that our path is indicated to us
by Providence, and that we ought to go where we are led. Well, I
confess that I felt this to be a strong reason for accepting. The
invitation came to me as a complete surprise, absolutely unsought, and
from a body of electors who know the kind of man they want and have a
large field to choose from; there was no question of private influence
or private friendship. I hardly know one of the committee; and they
took a great deal of trouble in making inquiries about men.

But, to use a detestable word, there is a strong difference between an
outward call and an inward call. It is not the necessary outcome of a
belief in Providence that one accepts all invitations, and undertakes
whatever one may be asked to do. There is such a thing as temptation;
and there is another kind of summons, sent by God, which seems to come
in order that one may take stock of one's own position and capacities
and realise what one's line ought to be. It is like a passage in a
labyrinth which strikes off at right angles from the passage one is
following; the fact that one MAY take a sudden turn to the left is not
necessarily a clear indication that one is meant to do so. It may be
only sent to make one consider the reasons which induce one to follow
the path on which one is embarked.

I had no instantaneous corresponding sense that it was my duty to
follow this call. I was (I will confess it) a little dazzled; but, as
soon as that wore off, I felt an indescribable reluctance to undertake
the task, a consciousness of not being equal to it, a strong sense that
I was intended for other things.

I don't mean to say that there was not much that was attractive about
the offer in a superficial way. It meant money, power, position, and
consequence--all good things, and good things which I unreservedly
like. I am like every one else in that respect; I should like a