p. 7 | Why Find Fault With the World

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Aug 18, 1910

Why Find Fault With the World

“DON’T you get awfully tired of people who are always croaking?” A frog in a big, damp, malarial pond is expected to make all the fuss he can in protest of his surroundings. But a man! destined for a crown, and born that he may be educated for the court of a King! placed in an emerald world with a hither side of opaline shadow, and a fine dust of diamonds to set it sparkling when winter days are flying; with ten million singing birds to make it musical, and twice ten million flowers to make it sweet; with countless stars to light it up with fiery splendor, and white, new moons to wrap it round with mystery; with other souls within it to love and make happy, and the hand of God to uphold it on its rushing way among the countless worlds that crowd its path,—what right has man to find fault with such a world? When the woodtick shall gain a hearing, as he complains that the grand century-old oak is unfit to shelter him, or the bluebird be harkened to when he murmurs that the horizon is off color, and does not match his wings, then it will be time for man to find fault with the appointments of the magnificent sphere on which he lives.”