valley of weeping through which we have to pass. Such sunless gorges we
have all to traverse at some time or other. It is striking that the
Psalmist puts the sorrow, which is as certainly characteristic of our
lot as the rest or the work, into the future. Looking back he sees none.
Memory has softened down all the past into one uniform tone, as the
mellowing distance wraps in one solemn purple the mountains which, when
close to them, have many a barren rock and gloomy rift, All behind is
good. And, building on this hope, he looks forward with calmness, and
feels that no evil shall befall.

But it is never given to human heart to meditate of the future without
some foreboding. And when 'Hope enchanted smiles,' with the light of the
future in her blue eyes, there is ever something awful in their depths,
as if they saw some dark visions behind the beauty. Some evils may come;
some will probably come; one at least is sure to come. However bright
may be the path, somewhere on it, perhaps just round that turning, sits
the 'shadow feared of man.' So there is never hope only in any heart
that wisely considers the future. But to the Christian heart there may
be this--the conviction that sorrow, when it comes, will not harm,
because God will be with us; and the conviction that the Hand which
guides us into the dark valley, will guide us through it and up out of
it. Yes, strange as it may sound, the presence of Him who sends the
sorrow is the best help to bear it. The assurance that the Hand which
strikes is the Hand which binds up, makes the stroke a blessing, sucks
the poison out of the wound of sorrow, and turns the rod which smites
into the staff to lean on.

The second portion of this psalm gives us substantially the same
thoughts under a different image. It considers God as the host, and us
as the guests at His table and the dwellers in His house.