troubles and seems sometimes to be successful, until we see how those
troubles have shaken its spirit and twisted its temper; and see, too, how
much of the beautiful and the strong and the sweet has been lost in the
fight. 'I will deliver him' with an abundant and an honourable
deliverance--he shall come forth from his tribulations more noble, tender,
and self-possessed. Hereafter there shall be given him the honour of one
whom the stress of life has driven into the arms of God.

Oh how we miss this ministry of ennoblement! We reap a harvest of
insignificance from the seeds of sorrow sown in our hearts. We let our
cares dishonour us. The little cares rasp and fret and sting the manliness
and the womanliness and the godlikeness out of us. And the great cares
crush us earthward till there is scarcely a sweet word left in our lips or
a noble thought in our heart. A man cannot save his _soul_ in the day of
trouble. He cannot by himself make good the wear and tear of anxieties and
griefs. He can hold his head high and hide his secret deep, but he cannot
keep his life sweet. Only Christ can teach a man how to find the nameless
dignity of the crown of thorns. The kingship of suffering is a secret in
the keeping of faith and love. If a man accepts this deliverance of his God
folded in flashes of understanding, ministries of explanation, revivals of
faith, and gifts of endurance, he shall find the honour that is to be won
among life's hard and bitter things.

_With long life will I satisfy him, and show him My salvation._ We have
seen a grey-headed libertine, and we have missed from among the
clean-hearted and the faithful some brave young life that was giving itself
vigorously to the holy service. But perhaps we have had the grace not to
challenge the utter faithfulness of God. The measure of life is not written
on a registrar's certificates of birth and death. There is something here
that lies beyond dates and documents. Life here and hereafter is one, and