Sympathy for the Sorrowing.
THERE are few things harder to bear, in our intercourse with our fellow-men, than the repellent coldness it is often our lot to meet, when our bowed hearts are yearning for sympathy and kindness. Men may lightly estimate another’s sorrows—may talk boastingly of the strength and courage with which they could sustain the weight under which other shoulders bend; but only the heart to which the suffering is given, knows its extent and bitterness. It is not easy for a proud and self-reliant spirit to understand the shrinkings of the heart whose powers of endurance suffering has weakened, nor can such an one comprehend the agony they sometimes inflict upon a sore and bleeding heart, by the cold indifference that turns with a “don’t care” from a suffering fellow-creature. Why should they, upon whose path the sunshine brightly beams, shut their hearts to the claims of sorrow? why turn indifferently from those upon whom the storm and sleet have beaten, and withhold the word that would make the heart glad? Oh! how much more of hope and gladness might illumine this vale of tears, if men made self-gratification less an object of ambition, and sought more to emulate Him to whom no heart ever went in vain for sympathy. There are none so low that Jesus will not regard—no grief so slight he will refuse to listen to its moan. Then may we willfully pain one heart to whom he has given life? make darker by word or act the already darkened way? May we add to the grief of those whom God has wounded? taunt another with weakness because we are strong? Joseph’s brethren, when in their affliction they remembered former cruelties, uttered a sentiment posterity would do well to consider. “We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul when he besought us and we would not hear; therefore is this distress come upon us.” Who shall say that the weakness we deride to-day shall not be ours to-morrow? that the storm-cloud which has robbed another’s life of its brightness will not yet enshroud us in gloom? “When He giveth quietness, who then can make trouble? and when he hideth his face, who then can behold him? whether it be done against a nation, or against a man only?” “If every pain and care we feel
Could burn upon our brow,
How many hearts would move to heal
That strive to crush us now.”
—Sel.