SUFFERING FOR LOVE
He who for love has undergone
The worst that can befall,
Is happier thousandfold than one
Who never loved at all.
A grace within his soul has reigned
Which nothing else can bring;
Thank God for all that I have gained
By that high suffering.
—Lord Houghton.
(3099)
Suffering Ignored—See Heartless Pagans.
Suffering that Develops—See Adversity
Helping Genius.
SUFFERING TRANSFORMED
Christ teaches us how, under the redemptive
government of God, suffering has become
a subtle and magnificent process for
the full and final perfecting of human character.
Science tells us how the bird-music,
which is one of nature's foremost charms,
has arisen out of the bird's cry of distress in
the morning of time; how originally the
music of field and forest was nothing more
than an exclamation caused by the bird's
bodily pain and fear, and how through the
ages the primal note of anguish has been
evolved and differentiated until it has risen
into the ecstasy of the lark, melted into the
silver note of the dove, swelled into the rapture
of the nightingale, unfolded into the
vast and varied music of the sky and the
summer. So Christ shows us that out of
the personal sorrow which now rends the
believer's heart he shall arise in moral and
infinite perfection; that out of the cry of
anguish wrung from us by the present distress
shall spring the supreme music of the
future. (Text.)—W. L. Watkinson, "The
Transfigured Sackcloth."
(3100)
SUFFERING TURNED TO SONG
In Edinburgh when they were celebrating
the life of Dr. George Matheson, the blind
preacher, Robertson Nicoll said that he was
the greatest Scotsman since Thomas Chalmers.
Divide that statement in two in the
middle, and you still have a great man. At
twenty the youth left a surgeon's office, with
these words echoing in the porches of the
ear, "Better see your friends quickly, for
soon the darkness will settle, and you will
see them no more forever." Then his biographer
tells us that the youth went on with
his studies, by listening while others read or
recited. Had Matheson been able to read
early church history, he would have been a
great scholar. Had he been able to read the
story of the thinkers and system-builders, he
would have been a great philosopher. But
the greatest thing he ever did, it seems, was
in life. We are told that there came a day
when his visions dissolved, and he realized
that he must go alone across the years. The
storm tore down the perfumed vines that
were climbing about the doorway of man's
soul. And the vine suffered grievously. But
the youth coerced his lips to silence, went
apart and hid himself for a day. When he
came out it was with suffering turned to
song. What will they celebrate as the blind
preacher's greatest achievement, in that
memorial service in Edinburgh? Listen to
the exploit of a faith-man, singing in the
hour when love dwells amidst her ruins:
O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
—N. D. Hillis.
(3101)
SUFFERING UNIVERSAL
In the great earthquake which a large part
of California experienced all animate nature
suffered. For hours after the principal shock
domestic animals manifested the utmost
terror. Cattle lowed continuously; dogs
barked long and lustily; cats crawled away
and hid, and remained in hiding a large part
of the day; and when they finally came forth,
would crawl along crouching with bodies
nearly touching the ground. Even the following
night their fear had not left them.
During the first half of the night we listened
to a continuous chorus of howls and barkings,
in which every dog in the city joined. About
midnight the dogs ceased and the roosters
took up the fear-inspired chant. It seemed
as if every chicken in the city and surrounding
country had joined this nocturnal orchestra,
whose members scarcely stopt to take
breath.
In driving along the road, the writer noticed a large flock of barn-swallows around a small mud-puddle in the middle of the road. As they alighted they kept their wings extended straight up in the air and fluttering, while they drove their bills almost fiercely into the mud. A bystander explained that all their nests had been shaken down and they were rebuilding. To them calamity had come in the loss of their nests, their eggs,
