Bright affluent spirits, breathing but to bless,
Whose presence cheers men's eyes and warms their hearts,
Whose lavish goodness this old world renews,
Like the free sunshine and the liberal air.^
^ There is a mysterious power in sympathy, and I thank God that the stream of sympathy is ever " in the way " of sorrowing souls. I see much sorrow, much pain, much heart- break, but I see also, and I thank God for it, much sympathy. Indeed, I am persuaded we never know what a wealth of sym- pathy and love there dwells in many a heart until sorrow calls it forth. And how a little sympathy comforts, and cheers, and refreshes the soul. " She did help me," said a poor soul about one who was a veritable angel of mercy. " I felt so much better for her visit." " Well, what did she say to you ? " I asked. " Well, she didn't say much, but she sat with me and held my hand," That good woman's sympathy, silent sympathy, was a veritable " brook in the way" to that poor bereaved and lonely soul, and she drank of it and lifted up her head.
3. Another brook may be found in the appointed means of grace. Christ frequently drank of it. "There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High." We must seek, as our fathers did, the perennial springs of refreshment that are to be found in the private and public ordinances of religion. The ex- citements and exhaustions of modern life make this duty even more imperative. Industry and enterprise are good ; but life is not only action, it is thought and feeling also. We do ourselves the greatest wrong if we allow our activities to crowd meditation and prayer out of our days and to rob us of the secret of rest in God. To have depth and elevation and tranquillity in life, and the aim kept high, and the impulse true and steady, it is absolutely * J. Hunter, The Angels of God, 36.
PSALM ex. 7 379
necessary for mind and heart to have constant access to the Source of inspiration. It is a moral calamity to lose the medi- tative and worshipful spirit. Reverence, faith, and aspiration are the springs of noble and fruitful living. Sunday and the Church stand for our highest life. They invite us to drink of waters that rise from cool and unpolluted depths. They offer an opportunity of finding that truest rest and recreation which come through mental and spiritual quickening and uplifting, and of verifying the word of prophecy, " They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength."
^ I know a little chapel in my own native land, away out in the country, far from village and town. But every Sabbath from miles around the farmers and farm labourers gather in the little building to hear the gospel preached. Their lives are hard and monotonous enough ; but they find peace, joy, love, in the little chapel, and because of what it has been to them they have called it " Elim." There the name stands graven over the door — Elim, the place of springing water and shady palm trees. And that is what the sanctuary always is to the humble worshipper. Whether it is called by the name or not, it is an Elim to him. I read in the old Book of one who was sore distressed by the diffi- culties and troubles of life. They harassed him and well-nigh drove him to distraction. And it seemed as if the trouble would crush and overwhelm him, until — notice that — until he went into the sanctuary, and then the trouble all disappeared and his heart was filled with the peace of God. " I came to church tired," wrote one to me only last week. " I came to church tired, and not a little soul weary ; I left rested, refreshed, strengthened ; I met my Lord there." ^
4. The brook that truly quenches our thirst issues from the throne of God. All merely ethical and philanthropic systems lack power to slake man's thirst, apart from the love of Him who was Love Incarnate. He, and He alone, it is who makes human life glad with the rivers of God ; who gives us to drink not only of the " still waters " of His peace, but of the rich renewing wine of His blood.
Faith that looks up to Him finds " streams in the desert," and many a brook of consolation and refreshment in the way of life's sternest conflicts. Of such a faith it is true —
» J. D. Jones, The Elims of Life, 182.
38o THE BROOK IN THE WAY
The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.
^ I remember an incident in the biography of a prince in learning, who, alas, was not a little child in the family of God. Once, in a time of depression, John Stuart Mill found comfort in music, until the thought came to him that, the octave having no more than eight tones in it, there must be limitations to the possibilities of melody. Even this spiritual octave of ours, various and marvellous as its messages are, has its limitations. Let us quench our thirst at the Fountainhead.^