e reprobates, ye have it in you.' 'Be ye
faithful, as I am,' said Jesus. 'Love one another as I have loved
you.' Take up your cross and follow Him. Leave all, if the Spirit
leads you to leave all. Do whatever it commands you. There will be no
lack of action. Care not for the world; give up wealth, friends,
those that you love, the opinions of all. Be willing to be despised,
spit upon, crucified. Be silent, and let your silence speak for you."

It is plain that what Isaac Hecker is here condemning is the life of
the world, wholly ordinary in its aims and motives. It is not to be
understood as a condemnation of the common lot of men, or of that
life in itself. It was only as he saw it over against his own
vocation to something higher that it became repulsive, nay guilty _to
him._ Nor was he even yet so settled in his view of the contrasted
worth of the two careers between which he had to choose, as to be
quite free from painful struggles. In the entry made on the day
preceding this outburst, he once more recurs to the subject of
marriage:

"Monday Evening, June 26.--This evening the same advice that has been
given me before, first by the doctor who attended me, next by my
dearest friend, was given me again by a man who now resides here."

"Tuesday Morning, June 27.--Rather than follow this advice, I would
die. I should be miserable all my life. Nay, death before this. These
men appear to me as natural men, but not in the same life as mine.
They are older, have more experience and more judgment than I,
perhaps; but considering the point of view from which their judgment
is formed, their advice does not appear to be the counsel for me. I
never can, nor will, save my health or life by such means. If that is
the only remedy, then unremedied must I remain.

"But the cause of my present state of mind is not what they suppose.
It is deeper, higher, and, O God! Thou knowest what it is! Wilt Thou
give me hope, strength, guidance?" . . .

"Friday, June 29.--Am I led by something higher to the life to which
I am tending? Sometimes I think it is most proper for me to return
home, accept things as they are, and live a life like others--as
good, and as much better as possible. If I can find one with whom I
think I can live happily, to accept such a one, and give up that
which now leads me.

"My friends would say this is the prudent and rational course--but it
appears this is not mine. That I am here is one evidence that it is
n