dliness
of our hearts we admit the false plea of urgency and the false claim of
authority made by our outward life. And perhaps more commonly the soul
lacks the courage of its desires. It costs little to follow a desire that
goes but a little way, and that on the level of familiar effort and within
sight of familiar things. It is another thing to hear the call of the
mountains and to feel the fascination of some far and glittering peak. That
is a call to perilous and painful effort. And yet again, high desire
sometimes leaves life where it found it because the heart attaches an
intrinsic value to vision. It is something to have _seen_ the Alpine
heights of possibility. Yes, it is something, but what is it? It is a
golden hour to the man who sets out to the climb; it is an hour of shame
and judgement, hereafter to be manifest, to the man who clings to the
comforts of the valley.

_One thing have I desired._ When a man speaks thus unto us, we have a right
to ponder his words with care. We naturally become profoundly interested,
expectant, and, to the limit of our powers, critical. If a man has seen one
thing that he can call simply and finally the desire of his heart, it ought
to be worth looking at. We expect something large, lofty, inclusive. And we
find this: '_That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my
life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple._' Let
us examine this desire, And, first of all, we must free our minds from mere
literalism. If we do not, we shall find in this desire many things that are
not in it, and miss everything that is in it. This is not the longing for a
cloistered life, the confession of one who is weary of this heavy world,
doubtful of its promises and afraid of its powers. 'The house of the Lord'
is not a place, but a state, not an edifice, but an attitude. It is a fair
and unseen dwelling-place builded by the hands of God to be the home, here
and hereafter, of all the hearts that purely love and worship Him. We read
of one who, a day's march from his father's house, lay down and slept; and
in his sleep God spake to him, and lo, out in a wild and lonely place,
Jacob said, 'This is none other but the house of God.' For every one to
whom the voice of God has come, and who has listened to that voice and
believed in its message, the mountains and valleys of this fair world, the
breath of every morning and the hush of every evening, are instinct with a
Pres