5. Free among the dead. Unbound from all that
links a person with life, a freeman of the city of the sepulchre, I seem no
more one of earth’s drudges. Like the slain that lie in the grave, whom thou rememberest no more. He felt as if he were as utterly forgotten as those
whose carcasses are left to rot on the battlefield. It is all very well for
those who are in robust health and full of spirits to blame those whose lives
are sicklied o’er with the pale cast of melancholy, but the evil is as real as
a gaping wound, and all the more hard to bear because it lies so much in the
region of the soul that to the inexperienced it appears to be a mere matter of
fancy and diseased imagination. Never ridicule the nervous and hypochondriacal;
their pain is real; though much of the evil lies in the imagination, it is not
imaginary. And they are cut off from thy hand. He mourned that the hand
of the Lord had gone out against him, and that he was divided from the great
author of his life. Men’s blows are trifles, but God’s smitings are terrible to
a gracious heart.
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