Heaven in its mercy has placed the fountain of wisdom in the hidden
and concealed depths of the soul, that the children of misfortune
might seek and find in its healthful waters the antidote and cordial
of their cares. Knowledge and sorrow are blended together, just as
ignorance and folly.
Man is like a sword in a shop window. Men that look upon the perfect
blade do not dream of the process by which it was completed. Man is a
sword; daily life is the workshop and God is the artificer, and the
trials and sorrows of life the very things that fashion the man. When
borne down by trials they are sent only for instructions.
In youth we look forward, the future appears calm as we approach
manhood and womanhood life changes its appearance and becomes
tempestuous and rough, as the ocean changes before the storm. In the
changes of life real joy and grief are never far apart.
Trials come in a thousand different forms and many avenues are open to
their approach. They come with the warm throbbing of our youthful
lives, keep pace with the measured tread of manhood’s noon, and depart
not from the descending footsteps of decrepitude age. We may not hope
to be entirely free from either disciplinary trials or the fiery darts
of the enemy until we are through with life’s burdens. Men may be so
old that ambition has no chain, but they are never too old to
experience trials. Misfortune gathers around great men as storms do
around great mountains, but, like them, they break the storms and
purify the air. Those who have had misfortune are like those who know
many languages. They have learned to understand and be understood by
all. Time is the rider that breaks youth. To the young how bright the
world looks—how full of novelty and enjoyment. But as years pass on
they are found to abound in sorrowful scenes as well as those pleasant
scenes of toil, suffering, difficulty and perhaps misfortune and
failure. Happy are they who can pass through misfortune with a firm
mind and a pure heart, encountering trials with cheerfulness and
standing erect beneath even the heaviest burdens.
Misfortune is a crown of thorns, but it becomes a wreath of light on
the brow which it has lacerated. Oh, it is a cross on which the spirit
groans. Let us learn to be able to bear our misfortune, because every
Calvary has an Olivet. To every place of crucifixion there is likewise
a place of ascension. So to be successful in this life we must be able
to bear misfortunes.