The Fish in a Pail

“W^ are now imperfect, and straitened j like a fish in a pail, or small vessel of water, which canjiot keep it alive: it wotild fain be in the ocean, or swijnming i?i the broad and large rivers. So we are pent up, and cannot do what we woitldj but we long for a larger estate, nainely, to be filled with all the fulness of God. That holiness which we have now, ?naketh us look and long for more J dftd, surely, this desire after holiness was never designed for our to7’mentj there ijiust be something to anszuer to the desire It is even so; we are now cribbed, cabined, and confined, and our renewed spirit feels itself in bondage. The fish cannot half so much desire the river as we desire a nobler sphere wherein the better life may have due scope and range. As a Hon goeth to and fro in his den, impatient of restraint, so doth our spirit move restlessly after better things. We are not content with the measure of our liberty, the tether of our range. We are like the young chick which is pecking at the shell which shuts it in; we perceive that there is very much outside of our prison-wall, and we are anxious to break forth. Is not this the testimony of all saintly men? Are not the bonds felt? Are we not groaning under them?

The argument of our author is well drawn, and incontrovertible. God does not create desires without also providing corresponding objects: for thirst there is drink, for hunger there is food, for the eye there is light. So also for the soul which hungers and thirsts after righteousness there is a filling. The renewed heart shall yet see the perfection for which it pines, and the holy mind shall enjoy the communion with God for which it pants.

Be glad, O my heart, because of thine own pangs! If thou wert now content, there would be in thee no ensigns and evidences of better things yet to be revealed. Thy groanings and yearnings are prophecies of guaranteed perfection. If thou wert of the earth, thou wouldst be satisfied with earth; but because thou hast a higher nature, thou art not at home amid these lower things. There remaineth therefore a rest for thee, a home for thee, a heaven for thee.