THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3418, 19 September 1919, Page 53

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR. ;.f:Vr.' No. 315. By Duncan Wright, Dunedin. TRUE SYMPATHY. SYMPATHY. "His understanding is infinite "—Psalm cxlvii: 5. The rarest gift that Heaven bestows— Which exercised, the greater grows, And often, in sweet silence flows— Is Sympathy. We all would fain be "understood," When seasons of depression broodJ—'Tis then, that naught dispels our mood. But Sympathy. A cheering word, when we are "down" A friendly smile, to chase our frown— The brightest jewel in Love's Crown, Is Sympathy. A hand-clasp, without-words, will say: "My friend, I too have passed that way: Take heart again—look up and pray!" That's Sympathy! I wonder if we ever guess How many people w© might bless,. If only we would just express Our Sympathy? Unspoken words on lips have lain. Eyes have been blind to other's pain. And hearts have turned to us in vain For Sympathy. But if we make resolve th:ss*day, To comfort all who come our way, A wealth-of Love will then, repay Our Sympathy! —K. J. B. "Sympathy," wrote Dr Alexander Maclaren, "is the parent of all wise counsel, because it is the parent of all true understanding of our brethren's wants; sympathy is the only thing to which people wiil listen; sympathy is the only disposition correspondent to the message that we Christians are entrusted with. For a Christian man to carry the gospel of infinite condescension to his fellows in a spirit other than that of the Master, and the Gospel which he speaks, is an anomaly and a contradiction." Says Henry Ward Beecher : —"Happy is the man who has that in his soul which acts upon the dejected as April airs upon violet roots. Gifts from the hand are silver and gold, but the heart gives that which neither silver nor gold can buy. To be full of goodnes, full of cheerfulness, full of sympathy, full of helpul hope, causes a man to carry blessings of which he himself is as unconscious as,a lamp of its own shining. Such a one moves on human life as stars move on dark seas to bewildered mariners; as the sun wheels bringing all the seasons with him from the south." Yet at the darkened eye, the withered face, Or hoary hair, I never will repine: But spare, O Time, whate'er of menial grace, Of love, candour, or sympathy divine, Whate'er of fancy's ray or friendship's flame is mine. —Beattie. A lady reader, who appreciates the Garland, kindly sent me the following : Wherever a soft hand of pity falls soft en a wound or a woe, Wherever a, peace or a pardon springs up.to o'ermaster a- fee; Wherever a tender heart's mercy outreaches to succour a need; Wherever springs healing for wounding —the Master is risen indeed! Wherever the soul of a people arises in courage and might, And flings off the bonds that shrouded its hope in the gloom cf the night; Wherever in sight of Gcd's legions the armies of evil recede, And faith wins a soul or a kingdom—tho Masler is risen indeed! —Mary Lav/son Dickinson. From ono of the Chandos 'Classics. I quote the following : —"Dr Berkeley, son of the celebrated Bishop of Cloyne, inherited all the benevolent (sympathies) and vritues of his father. During his residence at St. Andrew's, he distributed upwards of £2OO annually to poor families and other deserving objects in that place and neighbourhood —a large sum to corns from the pocket of a private clergyman, who was by no means rich in benefices ! And although he was censured with regard to tho English Episcopalians in Scotland, yet, in the work of beneficence, he knew neither sect nor party ; but administered his bounty equally to Nonjurors and Episcopalians." Frederick the Great of Russia, during a long illness, endured many restless nights," which he endeavoured to soothe by conversing with the servant who sat up with him. On one'of these occasions, he inquired of an honest young Pomeranian from whence he came? "From a little village in Pomerania." "Are your parents living?" c 'An aged ■ mother." "How does she maintain herself?" "By spinning." How much does she gain daily by spinning?" "Sixpence." "But she "cannot live on that." "In Pomerania, living is cheap." "Did you ever send her anything?" "O yes; I have at different times sent her a few dollars." "That wa3 bravely done; you are a good boy. You have a deal of trouble with me. Have patience. I shall endeavour to lay something by for you, if you continue to behave well." The monarch kept his word ; for a few nights after the Pomeranian being again in attendance, received several pieces of gold; and heard to his great joy and surprise that one hundred rix dollars had been settled on his mother during her lifetime —a kingly action. It Is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the- silken tie,

"Which heart to heart and mind to mind In body and in soul can bind "Pleasant is the silence of perfect sympathy. This is the test of intimacy. A fellowship is only complete when the partners iri it find themselves entirely at ease without the necessity of a word. \V<j are a long way from this condition when, as often happens, we talk and talk simply because we realise that a pause would be awkward on both sides. The picture of Carlyle and his mother sitting at opposite sides of the fireplace, in absolute content, but without a word passing, illustrates precisely what we* mean. We get here, perhaps, a foretaste of a stage of being when souls communicate without the cumbrous apparatus of language. Under present conditions even the degree is marvellous to which sympathetic natures can influence each other without words. There are souls which, in silence, seem to give off of their very essence and to interpenetrate others with it. It is aa though the harmony within communicated a rythmic pulsation which played on responsive natures like spirit music. A volume lies in the sentence in the life of Lord Lawrence, which says that he felfc uneasy if his -wife left the room. Happy man! To possess as one's own thia benediction of a presence that can bless without a word is to be rich indeed."—* Anon. If you ha.ve a friend \vor!h loving, Love him—yes, and let him know That ycu love him, ere life's evening ' Tinge his brow with sunset glow. Why should good words ne'er bo said To a friend, till ho i& dead? If ycu hoar a song- that thrills you Sung by any child of song, , Praise it—do not let the singer Wait deserved praises long. Why should on* who thrills your heart Lack the joy you may impart? If you hoar a prayer that moves you By its humble, pleading tcr.e, Join it, do not let th. 3 eoeker Bow before hi« God l alone.. Why should not your brother share Th© strength of ''two or three" in prayer?. If you see the hot tears falling, Falling from a brother's eyes, Share them—and thus by sharing Own your kinship with the skies Why should anyone be glad When a brother's heart is glad? —Anon. "Nearly everyone knows from experience that one's burden of care, grief, or anxiety can be divided and half of it laid upon the heart of a confiding friend. The revelation made and the sympathy given, the burdened one arises and finda that the weight is largely gone and the pain assuaeed. The sympathising friend has taken half of both the burden and the pain. There are griefs which cannot thua be divided, especially those of bereavement. It is a help to have sympathy, but all attempts to relieve the pain are futile, and usually worse than useless. There are too many who are unwilling to bear the least of their own griefs, and insist on casting them all, small or great, upon the confiding husband, wife, child, friend, or neighbour. This is doing them a wrong, and" it usually ends in wearing out their sympathy and fortitude. Each ona must bear out his or her own burden, only seeking to share it with those who -will take a shar e willingly. The weak, complaining soul loses both respect and sympathy. There are, others whose compressed lips are shut down even upon a moan, and the heart breaks in silence, -when there are those eager to come to its relief. These are heroic souls; and they win the admiration which they do not reek" or desire, and the sympathy which they' refuse, to accept. What they do not accept, they do not bestow. This, again, is not as it should be. We should bear one another's burdens' —willing to bear and willing to have borne. Did the reader ever think of what a bruden-bearc-r Christ is? Into his sympathising ear the complaints, and griefs, and cares of millions are poured daily, and without cessation, as the years, and millenniums roll on. There is not strength, sympathty, or fortitude enough in. the whole race of man to bear what Christ bears every day—not only every day bears it, but asks it. 'Cast tbv burden on the Lord.' He bears it. and is glad to bear it. He never grows weary, never turns away, never rebukes, but continually His voice is heard. 'Come unto Me, ye weary and heavy laden, and I will give yoa rest.' It take 3 infinite love, infinite sympathy, infinite strength to do that. Even the pain of bereavement, which no wis© person will seek-to assuage, is cured by His touch. Go to Him. Let friends bear what thev love to bear for us, but for inexhaustible sympathy, strength, and healing, go to Jesus."—Anon.