To all those possible conditions, so manifold in their potentialities, the doctrine applies. The membership is a constant quantity. Nil me officit unquam, says Horace, Ditior hic, aut est quia doctior; est locus uni Cuique suus. And we have Shakspeare’s word for it, that nought so vile upon the earth doth live, but to the earth some special good doth give; and though he is speaking of stones and the like, are there not sermons in stones, as well as good in everything?
Holy George Herbert shall furnish us with a versicle to the purpose. As ever, he is looking upwards when he says,—
“Indeed the world’s Thy book
Where all things have their leaf assign’d:
Yet a meek look
Hath interlined.
Thy board is full, yet humble guests
Find nests.”
But more pertinent, and less quaintly obscure, is that stanza from another little lyric of his, in which the Country Parson exalts the exalting power of a simple trust in God and devotion to His service: