time and the will and the power to have mercy
on it, because He is the Son of Man. Therefore He will turn aside even
to thee, whoever thou art, who art weary and heavy laden, and can find no
rest for thy soul, at the very moment, and in the very manner which is
best for thee. When thou hast suffered long enough, He will stablish,
strengthen, settle thee. He will bind up thy wounds, and pour in the oil
and the wine of His Spirit--the Holy Ghost, the Comforter--and will carry
thee to His own inn, whereof it is written, "He will hide thee secretly
in His own presence from the provoking of men; He will keep thee in His
tabernacle from the strife of tongues. He will give His angels charge
over thee to keep thee in all thy ways;" and He will give thee rest at
last in the bosom of the Father, from which thou, like all human souls,
camest forth at first, and to which thou shalt at last return, with all
human souls who have in them the Spirit of God and of Christ, and of
eternal life.

_Discipline and other Sermons_.

We all like comfort. But what kind of comfort do we not merely like, but
need? Merely to be comfortable? To be free from fear, anxiety, sorrow?
The comfort which poor human beings want in such a world as this is not
the comfort of ease, but the comfort of strength. The comforter whom we
need is not one who will merely say kind things, but give help--help to
the weary, lonely, heavy-laden heart which has no time to rest. We need
not the sunny and smiling face, but the strong helping arm. For we may
be in that state that smiles are shocking to us, and mere kindness--though
we may be grateful for it--of no more comfort to us than sweet music to a
drowning man. We may be miserable, and unable to help being miserable,
and unwilling to help it too. We do not wish to flee from our sorrow: we
do not wish to forget it. We dare not. It is so awful, so
heart-rending, so plain-spoken, that God, the master and tutor of our
hearts, must wish us to face it and endure it. Our Father has given us
the cup--shall we not drink it? Oh! for a comforter who will help us to
drink the bitter cup--who will give us faith to say, with Job, "Though He
slay me, yet will I trust in Him"--who will give us the firm reason to
look steadily at our grief, and learn the lesson it is meant to teach--who
will give us the temperate will to keep sober and calm amid the shocks
and changes of mortal life! If we had such a comforter as that,