Unspoken Sermons

If there be a God, and I am his creature, there may be, there should be, there must be some open communication between He and I. If anyone allow a God, but one scarce good enough to care about his creatures, I will yield him that it were foolish to pray to such a God; but the notion that, with all the good impulses in us, we are the offspring of a cold-hearted devil, is so horrible in its inconsistency, that I would ask that man what hideous and cold-hearted disrregard to the truth makes him capable of the supposition! To such a one God's terrors, or, if not His terrors, then God's sorrows yet will speak; the divine something in him will love, and the love be left moaning.
If i find my position, my consciousness, that of one from home nay, that of one from some sort of prison; if I find that I can neither rule the world in which I live nor my own thoughts or desires; that I cannot quiet my own passions, order my likings, determine my ends, will my growth, forget when I would, or recall what I forget; that I cannot love where I would, or hate where I would; that I am no king over myself; that I cannot supply my own needs, do not even always know which of my seeming needs are to be supplied, and which treated as impostersl if, in a word, my own being is everyway too much for mel if I can neither understand it, be satisfied with it, nor better it --- may it not well give me a pause --- the pause that ends in prayer?
When my own scale seems too large for my management; when I reflect that I cannot account for my existence, have had no poorest hand in it, neither, should I like it, can do anything towards causing it to cease; when I think that I can do nothing to make up to those I love, any more than to those I hate, for evils I have done them and sorrows I have caused them; that in my worst moments I disbelieve in my best, in my best loathe my worst; that there is in me no wholeness, no unity; that life is not a good to me, for I scorn myself --- when I think all or any such things, can it be strange if I think also that surely there ought to be somewhere a being to account for me, one to account for himself, and make the round of my existence just; one whose very being accounts and is necessary to account for mine; whose presence in my being is imperative, not merely to supplement it, but to make myself my existence a good?