^ In the sunless deeps are animals with eyes of extraordinary size. And the marvellous thing is that these particular creatures have in a high degree the power of manufacturing their own light, and the economizing of the delicate phosphorescence has developed in them eyes of remarkable magnitude and power. With their self-created luminousness these abyssal fish withstand the blackness of their environment, and indirectly the darkness has secured for them eyes far more splendid than those of their shallow-water relatives. Thus is it in the abyss in which we live, and which proves to so many a gulf of dark despair. There are thousands of noble men and women with splendid eyes. They see God as clearly as any angel in heaven can see Him ; they behold His government over them causing all things to work together for their good ; they view the golden consummation to which the universe tends. The very darkness that presses upon them has taught them the secret of making light in themselves, and it has developed in them a power of vision that pierces to the heart of things.^
^f What, then, is to be done in this rickety, crazy world, so mad, so tumultuous, so vexatious in its moral mysteries ? This brings us right away to Bethlehem, to Calvary, to the Christ. I grow in the conviction that nothing can reconcile all mysteries and contradictions, and illuminate all perplexing darkness, but
» W. L. Watkiiison.
156 AN INSEPARABLE LOVE
the light which streams from the priesthood of Him whom I worship as God the Son. He keeps the world alive; inquire more deeply into that suggestion, and find how large and true it is. Christ is the life of the world and the light of the world, and though He be statistically outnumbered, He is influentially supreme.^
0 Thou, in all Thy might so far,
In all Thy love so near. Beyond the range of sun and star,
And yet beside us here, —
What heart can comprehend Thy name,
Or, searching, find Thee out, Who art within, a quickening Flame,
A Presence round about?
Yet though I know Thee but in part,
I ask not. Lord, for more; Enough for me to know Thou art,
To love Thee and adore.
0 sweeter than aught else besides,
The tender mystery That like a veil of shadow hides
The Light I may not see !
And dearer than all things I know
Is childlike faith to me, That makes the darkest way I go
An open path to Thee.^
(2) In the consciousness of the Divine love we more than triumph over all the suffering of life. The sorrow of life does not harm. Conquerors are often much the worse for the battle. A victorious fleet is a shattered fleet, often scarcely able to find a spar on which to hang the flag of victory ; a triumphant army is a stricken host that moves spectators to tears ; a conquering athlete is a ghastly sight. But the Apostle intimates that this stern fight unto death shall inflict upon us no serious and abiding wound. If we could for a moment transcend carnal Limits and peep into glory, we should see that our glorified ancestry are noji one whit the worse for their life of hardship and martyrdom,
* Joseph Parker, Well Begun, 169. * Frederick Lucian Hosmer.
ROMANS VIII. 38, 39 157
They suffered great tribulation, but they have survived all without
a scar.
^ Not long ago I visited a flower-show, and, following the crowd, found myself amid a delightful host of orchids. It is needless to say what wonderful shapes and colours were displayed ; masters of language need the wealth of poetry to describe the grace and magnificence which they unfold ; they epitomize the perfection of the world. They are strangely privileged plants, gorgeous children of the sun, and they show what can be done under blue skies in depths of safety, in balmy air, with brilliant light. But before leaving the exhibition I wandered into another department, where the Alpine plants were being exhibited. Not expecting much this time, I was surprised and delighted by triumphs of form and colour. They did not suffer in comparison with the tropical blooms. Delicate, curiously beautiful, in- expressibly elegant, vivid in colour, of manifold dyes, perfumed with subtle scents of sweetness, tliey charmed and dazzled eyes that had just been satiated by the butterfly colours of Eastern beauties. And the Alpine gems owed all that they were to what they had suffered. Their sparkle is the gleam of the ice-age; their whiteness that of the eternal snows on whose border they sprang; they caught theii- royal blue whilst dizzy peaks thrust them into the awful sky ; they are so firm because the rock on which they grew has got into them ; they are so sensitive because they trembled so long on the precipice. They are the children of night and winter, the nurslings of blizzards ; cataracts, glaciers, and avalanches perfected their beauty. In a vast, savage, elemental war they won the glory which makes them worthy to stand by the picked blooms painted by all the art of perpetual summer. Thus the sanctified sternness of human life blossoms in great, pure, beautiful souls which adorn heaven itself.^
Thou hast visited me with Thy storms, And the vials of Thy sore displeasure Thou hast poured on my head, like a bitter draught Poured forth without stint or measure; Thou hast bruised me as flax is bruised; Made me clay in the potter's wheel ; Thou has hardened Thy face like steel, And cast down my soul to the ground ; Burnt my life in the furnace of fire, like dross. And left me in prison where souls are bound: Yet my gain is more than my loss.