This was a convincing argument, and doubtless led the prophet to shake himself clear of petulance. If he would spare a gourd, how much more should the Lord spare a vast city, with so great a host of children in it? Perhaps some one of us may be inclined to selfishness, or may be unduly sensitive and peevish, let us resort to the Lord Jesus for instruction, and take his yoke upon us, for he is meek and lowly of heart. Never can we find rest till the demon of selfwill is utterly cast out.
Alas! how often I complain,
Imagine ills, and fret at pain,
E’en ask for death with peevish heart,
Because selfwill is made to smart.
Now, Lord, rebuked my spirit stands,
My times are ever in thy hands,
Here all my will I now submit,
And cast my pride beneath thy feet