Page:Cyclopedia of illustrations for public speakers, containing facts, incidents, stories, experiences, anecdotes, selections, etc., for illustrative purposes, with cross-references; (IA cyclopediaofillu00scotrich).pdf/724

 SUFFERING FOR LOVE

He who for love has undergone The worst that can befall, Is happier thousandfold than one Who never loved at all. A grace within his soul has reigned Which nothing else can bring; Thank God for all that I have gained By that high suffering.

—

(3099)

Suffering Ignored—See.

Suffering that Develops—See.

SUFFERING TRANSFORMED

Christ teaches us how, under the redemptive government of God, suffering has become a subtle and magnificent process for the full and final perfecting of human character. Science tells us how the bird-music, which is one of nature's foremost charms, has arisen out of the bird's cry of distress in the morning of time; how originally the music of field and forest was nothing more than an exclamation caused by the bird's bodily pain and fear, and how through the ages the primal note of anguish has been evolved and differentiated until it has risen into the ecstasy of the lark, melted into the silver note of the dove, swelled into the rapture of the nightingale, unfolded into the vast and varied music of the sky and the summer. So Christ shows us that out of the personal sorrow which now rends the believer's heart he shall arise in moral and infinite perfection; that out of the cry of anguish wrung from us by the present distress shall spring the supreme music of the future. (Text.)—, "The Transfigured Sackcloth."

(3100)

SUFFERING TURNED TO SONG

In Edinburgh when they were celebrating the life of Dr. George Matheson, the blind preacher, Robertson Nicoll said that he was the greatest Scotsman since Thomas Chalmers. Divide that statement in two in the middle, and you still have a great man. At twenty the youth left a surgeon's office, with these words echoing in the porches of the ear, "Better see your friends quickly, for soon the darkness will settle, and you will see them no more forever." Then his biographer tells us that the youth went on with his studies, by listening while others read or recited. Had Matheson been able to read early church history, he would have been a great scholar. Had he been able to read the story of the thinkers and system-builders, he would have been a great philosopher. But the greatest thing he ever did, it seems, was in life. We are told that there came a day when his visions dissolved, and he realized that he must go alone across the years. The storm tore down the perfumed vines that were climbing about the doorway of man's soul. And the vine suffered grievously. But the youth coerced his lips to silence, went apart and hid himself for a day. When he came out it was with suffering turned to song. What will they celebrate as the blind preacher's greatest achievement, in that memorial service in Edinburgh? Listen to the exploit of a faith-man, singing in the hour when love dwells amidst her ruins:

O Love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee; I give thee back the life I owe That in thine ocean depths its flow May richer, fuller be.

—

(3101)

SUFFERING UNIVERSAL

In the great earthquake which a large part of California experienced all animate nature suffered. For hours after the principal shock domestic animals manifested the utmost terror. Cattle lowed continuously; dogs barked long and lustily; cats crawled away and hid, and remained in hiding a large part of the day; and when they finally came forth, would crawl along crouching with bodies nearly touching the ground. Even the following night their fear had not left them. During the first half of the night we listened to a continuous chorus of howls and barkings, in which every dog in the city joined. About midnight the dogs ceased and the roosters took up the fear-inspired chant. It seemed as if every chicken in the city and surrounding country had joined this nocturnal orchestra, whose members scarcely stopt to take breath.

In driving along the road, the writer noticed a large flock of barn-swallows around a small mud-puddle in the middle of the road. As they alighted they kept their wings extended straight up in the air and fluttering, while they drove their bills almost fiercely into the mud. A bystander explained that all their nests had been shaken down and they were rebuilding. To them calamity had come in the loss of their nests, their eggs,