Suchaccountsasthisshadeawayintootherswherethebeliefis，notthatparticulareventsaretemperedmoretowardlytousbyasuperintendingprovidence，asarewardforourreliance，butthatbycultivatingthecontinuoussenseofourconnectionwiththepowerthatmadethingsastheyare，wearetemperedmoretowardlyfortheirreception。Theoutwardfaceofnatureneednotalter，buttheexpressionsofmeaninginitalter。Itwasdeadandisaliveagain。Itislikethedifferencebetweenlookingonapersonwithoutlove，oruponthesamepersonwithlove。Inthelattercaseintercoursespringsintonewvitality。Sowhenone’saffectionskeepintouchwiththedivinityoftheworld’sauthorship，fearandegotismfallaway；andintheequanimitythatfollows，onefindsinthehours，astheysucceedeachother，aseriesofpurelybenignantopportunities。Itisasifalldoorswereopened，andallpathsfreshlysmoothed。Wemeetanewworldwhenwemeettheoldworldinthespiritwhichthiskindofprayerinfuses。
SuchaspiritwasthatofMarcusAureliusandEpictetus。[318]Itisthatofmind-curers，ofthetranscendentalists，andoftheso-called“liberal“Christians。Asanexpressionofit，IwillquoteapagefromoneofMartineau’ssermons：——
[318]“GoodHeaven！”saysEpictetus，“anyonethinginthecreationissufficienttodemonstrateaProvidence，toahumbleandgratefulmind。Themerepossibilityofproducingmilkfromgrass，cheesefrommilk，andwoolfromskins；whoformedandplannedit？Oughtwenot，whetherwedigorploughoreat，tosingthishymntoGod？GreatisGod，whohassupplieduswiththeseinstrumentstotilltheground；greatisGod，whohasgivenushandsandinstrumentsofdigestion，whohasgivenustogrowinsensiblyandtobreatheinsleep。Thesethingsweoughtforevertocelebrate……Butbecausethemostofyouareblindandinsensible，theremustbesomeonetofillthisstation，andlead，inbehalfofallmen，thehymntoGod；forwhatelsecanIdo，alameoldman，butsinghymnstoGod？WereIanightingale，Iwouldactthepartofanightingale；wereIaswan，thepartofaswan。ButsinceIamareasonablecreature，itismydutytopraiseGod……andIcallonyoutojointhesamesong。”Works，booki。ch。xvi。，Carter-Higginsontranslationabridged。
“Theuniverse，opentotheeyeto-day，looksasitdidathousandyearsago：andthemorninghymnofMiltondoesbuttellthebeautywithwhichourownfamiliarsundressedtheearliestfieldsandgardensoftheworld。Weseewhatallourfatherssaw。AndifwecannotfindGodinyourhouseorinmine，upontheroadsideorthemarginofthesea；intheburstingseedoropeningflower；inthedaydutyorthenightmusing；inthegenerallaughandthesecretgrief；intheprocessionoflife，everenteringafresh，andsolemnlypassingbyanddroppingoff；I
donotthinkweshoulddiscernhimanymoreonthegrassofEden，orbeneaththemoonlightofGethsemane。Dependuponit，itisnotthewantofgreatermiracles，butofthesoultoperceivesuchasareallowedusstill，thatmakesuspushallthesanctitiesintothefarspaceswecannotreach。ThedevoutfeelthatwhereverGod’shandis，THEREismiracle：anditissimplyanindevoutnesswhichimaginesthatonlywheremiracleis，cantherebetherealhandofGod。ThecustomsofHeavenoughtsurelytobemoresacredinoureyesthanitsanomalies；thedearoldways，ofwhichtheMostHighisnevertired，thanthestrangethingswhichhedoesnotlovewellenoughevertorepeat。Andhewhowillbutdiscernbeneaththesun，asherisesanymorning，thesupportingfingeroftheAlmighty，mayrecoverthesweetandreverentsurprisewithwhichAdamgazedonthefirstdawninParadise。Itisnooutwardchange，noshiftingintimeorplace；