nd where Christ's comfort was accepted. The very memory of the sorrow
is a gentle benediction that broods ever over the household, like the
afterglow of sunset, like the silence that comes after prayer.

In every burden of sorrow there is a blessing sent from God, which we
ought not to thrust away. In one of the battles of the Crimea, a
cannon-ball struck inside a fort, gashing the earth and sadly marring
the garden beauty of the place. But from the ugly chasm there burst
forth a spring of water, which flowed on thereafter, a living fountain.
So the strokes of sorrow gash our hearts, leaving ofttimes wounds and
scars, but they open for us fountains of rich blessing and of new life.

"Then Sorrow whispered gently: 'Take
This burden up. Be not afraid.
An hour is short. Thou scarce wilt wake
To consciousness that I have laid
My hand upon thee, when the hour
Shall all have passed; and gladder then
For the brief pain's uplifting power,
Thou shall but pity griefless men.'"

These are hints of the blessings of burdens. Our dull task-work,
accepted, will train us into strong and noble character. Our
temptations and hardships, met victoriously, knit thews and sinews of
strength in our souls. Our pain and sorrow, endured with sweet trust
and submission, leave us with life purified and enriched, with more of
Christ in us. In every burden that God lays upon us, there is a
blessing for us, if only we will take it.

CHAPTER VII.

HEART-PEACE BEFORE MINISTRY.

"Like the star
That shines afar,
Without haste
And without rest,
Let each man wheel, with steady sway,
Round the task that rules the day,
And do his best."
--GOETHE.

Peace in the heart is one of the conditions of good work. We cannot do
our best in anything if we are fretted and anxious. A feverish heart
makes an inflamed brain, a clouded eye, and an unsteady hand. The
people who really accomplish the most, and achieve the best results,
are those of calm, self-controlled spirit. Those who are nervous and
excited may be always busy, and always under pressure of haste; but in
the end they do far less work than if they wrought calmly and steadily,
and were never in a hurry.

Nervous haste is always hindering haste. It does faulty work, and does
but little of it in the end. Really rapid workers are always
deliberate in their movements, never appearing to be in