ABSTRACT
No human being can be a good machine, being intended to be something better. It is very strange. I try so hard to be contented and satisfied with what God gives; and when I am, I reproach myself with having tried to feed on husks, and call them grain. Perhaps I ought to see that they are by no means husks. Perhaps it is right to rejoice, and yet to look clearly beyond, and see that there is a better treasure which God may give or withhold.
