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MOTION
The Brook
in the Way
BY
HERMAN PAGE
Rector of St. Paul's Church, Chicago
Printed by
M. L. VITTU, Chicago
1912
COPYRIGHT, 1912
BY
HERMAN PAGE
CHICAGO
FOREWORD
This little book embodies in somewhat
expanded form a sermon preached not long
ago on the text which has been used as
the title. Some people seem to have found
it suggestive in helping them to rest.
Perhaps it may prove of value to a few
more.
Chicago, Ill.,
December 15, 1912.
HERMAN PAGE.
299014
The Brook in the Way
The Need
The ordinary individual in our modern, stren-
uous life is literally almost driven to death.
The business man has perhaps three or four
luncheon appointments for the noon hour. The
woman at home has not the time to accomplish
half of what she plans. The women whose chief
vocation is Society have probably the hardest time
of all. Even the little children have so many
engagements they grow strained and nervous
before their time. Multitudes of people are in a
state of constant tire. It is only a question of
time when they are sure to break down. I have
in mind now a committee composed of repre-
sentative men of affairs. It is no uncommon
thing for a third of these men to be really ill
because they need rest. Nervous prostration is
one of the commonest of ills. For many people,
therefore, one of the most serious problems is that
of obtaining the necessary rest and refreshment
to enable them to perform their daily tasks.
The easy solution for such people would seem
to be to take a vacation or go to a sanitarium-
in short go away for a rest cure; but for the
most of them this is utterly impossible. The
[5]
mother can not leave her home. The business
man can not leave his work. Even if there were
time, there is no money. So there seems to be
nothing to do but grimly to grit one's teeth and
labor on in the eternal treadmill of circumstance.
Not only do people feel the need of physical
refreshment, but they feel also the need of mental
refreshment. They are tired not simply in the
ordinary physical sense, but they are tired men-
tally. They crave pleasure and that buoyancy
and zest of living that play alone can give. For
many men and women, however, the opportu-
nities for pleasure seem hopelessly restricted.
Life is one long grind. There is little or no
money to spend in play, and the outlook for the
needed refreshment seems dark indeed.
Then there are those who are woefully cons-
cious of their need for intellectual refreshment.
They have no time for study or culture. They
read the newspapers to be sure, but when it
comes to serious reading and the concentration
of thought upon the subjects in which they would
become more proficient they stand bewildered.
The many things of life seem to hold them in
an inflexible grip.
In short, we have not time for our work. We
have not time properly to rest our weary bodies.
We feel stinted in our play. We have no time
for culture. It is rather a gloomy sounding
story, because the circumstances are such that
[6]
they may not be changed. We can put no more
hours into the day. The incessant call is to do
more work instead of less. Modern life holds
out no promise of less complexity but rather
of more. The favored few can run away from
time to time. They may go to California, Palm
Beach or Southern France. A college professor
may get his sabbatical year and go to Oxford,
Dresden or Paris, but most of us have to stay
right where we are.
The Way Out
While we may not change conditions never-
theless we always have the power of dominating
them. Possibly the circumstances themselves
are not so black as they seem. It is always our
divine prerogative to make the best of things.
Rest and refreshment we must have, if we are
to live our lives aright. If we may not go away
for these things, then somehow we must find
them close at hand.
"He shall drink of the Brook in the Way:
therefore shall he lift up his head."
These are the words with which the writer
closes the 110th Psalm. He is describing the
way in which the king successfully pursued
his enemies and vanquished them. There is no
heavy load of baggage wagons here, and no in-
cumbrance of heavy water pots. The king and
his followers drew their sustenance from the
[ 7 ]
Brook in the Way, therefore, he and his hosts
were able to lift up their heads and win a
splendid triumph. It is the plan which has
been constantly followed by great generals.
Napoleon frequently broke away from his bag-
gage trains, and whipped his enemies almost
before the latter knew what had happened. It
was this method that enabled General Grant to
accomplish his wonderful investment of Vicks-
burg. It embodies a great principle, namely
that if we would win success we must train our-
selves to seek and find sustenance in the land as
we go along.
66
He shall drink of the Brook in the Way:
therefore shall he lift up his head." This is a
most suggestive text. I would that every reader
might repeat it aloud to himself a half a dozen
times, because it is one of those illuminating
phrases that has the power, verily, to mould and
modify life. If you are tired and need rest, re-
member that you can get refreshment from the
Brook in the Way. If you need pleasure, re-
member that there is always the Brook in the
Way. If you need intellectual refreshment and
time for culture, and if you would come to know
God better, remember that you have the Brook
in the Way. The way out of our troubles does
not lie in vacations and rest cures and in all sorts
of other things which we may not have. Rest,
achievement, joy, culture, God, all the good
J
[ 8 ]
things in life, lie right at hand.
to drink of the Brook in the Way.
We have only
Rest
A young woman came into my office one morn-
ing, worn out and broken. She was employed
in the office of a relative in the heart of the
great city, but found herself utterly unequal to
the strain. She was so wretched and dragged
out that life was a burden. She was obliged to
go home several days a week; and for several
years had been in the care of physicians, one of
whom had put a brace upon her back. Nothing,
however, seemed to avail. After she was seated
I asked in a formal way, "What sort of a morn-
ing is it?" She clinched both hands, gesticul-
ated wildly with an energy that shook her whole
body, screwed her face into a contortion, and
cried with tremendous enthusiasm, "It is a
beautiful morning!" My rejoinder was, "Miss
Annie, you spent enough energy in saying that
to keep you at your work a whole forenoon."
A few questions soon developed the fact that she
did everything in life in exactly this same
fashion. She never rested except when she was
asleep, and she could not rest much then because
she had insomnia. It transpired, as a matter of
course, that in the daily trip to work by train,
which consumed three quarters of an hour each
way, she always sat rigid and ready to spring to
-
G
[9]
her feet every instant. When she had to go on
errands she always hurried. If it was necessary
to wait in an office she never by any chance sat
down in the chair that was usually provided for
her. She drove herself at high speed all the
time. She talked and walked and worked and
ate and lived under a full head of steam. Even
at the early age of twenty an outraged physical
nature refused to keep up the pace.
A young woman of my acquaintance not long
ago had to undergo a severe operation. She
passed to the operating room laughing and jok-
ing and apparently care free and relaxed. After
she was given the anaesthetic her jaws shut so
tight together that it was necessary to keep them
pried open. So tense was that young woman's
habit of life in thought and speech and action
that it had become the dominating note in her
character, and as soon as the ether put to sleep
her will, the tremendous tenseness that pervaded
her whole system promptly asserted itself.
A young man called upon me one morning.
He sat in my easy chair and proceeded to tell his
story; but it was no easy chair for him. He
writhed around in it like a contortionist. He
could not possibly sit still in it for one moment.
He pounded the arms as he talked. His voice
was strained and tense. So this man lived. He
had driven himself in this unsparing fashion for
years, and at last the break came. As he began
[ 10 ]
to watch himself he confided to me later that he
was utterly astounded at the amount of energy
he expended in using a shaving brush.
These persons are typical of people all about
us. In fact this habit of drive is sometimes
called "Americanitis." Go into any company of
women, and watch them talk. Notice carefully
the ordinary groups as you see them at table or
in the cars. The amount of energy and of vital-
ity which they expend in the act of talking is
clearly tremendous. In the same forced way do
these people walk. A large part of the time
they are hurrying, and their bodies are as stiff
and tense as if they were composed of steel bars.
They do not rest when they sit down. They
will not let the chair or the automobile or even
the bed carry them if they can help it. It is
almost impossible for them to do anything quietly
or calmly. A few moments consideration will
show how inevitably it is that this method of liv-
ing soon leads to exhaustion. In the time of
youth the expanding forces of life demand un-
usual exercise, but gradually the days come
when nature reaches a period of equilibrium.
Then for every expenditure of energy there must
be a corresponding means of recuperation. As
we give out, so must we take in. As we work
so must we rest. The greater our exertion, the
greater the rest period must be. If we run a
fierce race we must take so much more time to
[11]
regain our strength. On the other hand if we
can slacken the pace, so much less will be the
demand for refreshment. Any normal person,
even sixty years old, can walk many miles in a
day with comparatively little sense of exhaus-
tion, and recuperation is easy. But to run a
short race at top speed is a dangerous experi-
ment for any man or woman over twenty-five
who is not well trained for that particular exer-
tion.
It is apparent that the chief source of phy-
sical refreshment for the great mass of tired,
nervous people will be found in the Brook in the
Way. What most of us need to do more than
anything else is to learn to rest as we go along.
In other words we must learn the lesson of
living our lives with a far smaller outlay of
energy. We must train ourselves to lower our
voices when we talk, and also we must remem-
ber that most of the things that we say are not
worth the expenditure of much vitality. In
fact, if the bulk of them were left unsaid the
world would be but little poorer. We need to
learn how to gain the power of relaxing when
we sit in chairs or seats in street or steam cars.
We must practice letting the automobile carry
us, and we must gain the power of letting the
bed really carry us when we lie upon it. When
we walk we must strive to fall into an easy-
going, health-giving, swing, and eliminate the
[12]
tenseness that so commonly pervades the whole
body. It is the same when it comes to our work.
We accomplish little by our incessant driving
except the wearing out of ourselves. There are
few of us who are not again and again amazed
at the abnormal amount of work we accomplish
when we have no sense of hurry. Here is to be
found the great opportunity for rest. It is in
ourselves, and in our way of doing things. It
is to be found in the Brook in the Way.
Another fact which cannot be over-emphasized
is that there are hundreds of little opportunities
to rest which come to tired people daily. The
young woman whose story I have told in some
detail was restored to health by learning to use
the chances for rest which were to be found in
the Brook in the Way. The hour and a half
spent on the train was made a time of resting.
The little errand-going journeys became periods
of recess and pleasure. The minutes of waiting
in business offices were utilized for further rest
and relaxation. Life is full of little chances to
rest. The moments when you have to wait for
other people-and there are often easy chairs
handy-afford us golden opportunities. Culti-
vate also the habit of saying less and thinking
more. Your friends will think more of you, and
you can rest while they entertain you. Watch
and watch most vigilantly for these short periods
of resting. Of such is the day made up. Well
[13]
might we adapt the old adage and declare,
"Take care of the minutes and the hours will
take care of themselves".
There are many things that might be said in
connection with the subject of physical refresh-
ment, but beyond this great need of the power of
relaxation there are only a few of which I wish
to speak and they are what might be termed,
the life essentials-sleep, air, food and exercise.
Busy tired people should by all means see to it
that they obtain sufficient sleep. After all is
said, sleep is nature's great rest cure, and it is
one of the first moral duties, when people are
overborne, to make sure that they get extra sleep.
If you have to sit up late for several nights, if
your work has been more exhausting than usual,
see to it religiously that you get an extra three
or four hours sleep. Deliberately refuse to make
that extra engagement. Go to bed instead of
going to some unnecessary party or place of en-
tertainment. In sleep you will often find the
power of life.
For the weary person it is God's
chief Brook in the Way.
<!
-
The only thing I would say about food is to
urge people to study the mental conditions under
which they eat. Drive away fault-finding, pess-
imism and harrowing argument from your table
as you would a plague. If you are excited or
greatly keyed up, beware as to how much you
eat. If you are tired and exhausted it is usually
[14]
well to rest before you eat. It is often well for
busy, tired people to study the conditions under
which they eat at noon, The modern method of
doing business over luncheon has its dangerous
side. The wisest plan that the very tired man
can follow is often to go and eat alone where he
can do it quietly, leisurely and without talking.
It most frequently happens that the strength that
should be devoted to digestion is expended in the
effort of conversing in some noisy, clattering
restaurant, where possibly an orchestra increases
to its utmost the already frightful din.
When it comes to air and exercises, their
value can not be overestimated. The evidence
of all this is to be found at the end of the summer
time. There is no more pathetic commentary on
our modern method of living than that to be
read in the faces of our various friends when we
see them after the days that have been spent out
of doors. Their color, complexion, firmness of
gait, and general sense of well being is in strik-
ing contrast to that of a few weeks before when
they were still living a relatively sedentary life
within closed walls. The modern method of
curing tuberculosis perhaps proves more forcibly
than anything else the absolute necessity of
going often and regularly into the open air.
Abundant fresh air and daily vigorous exercise
bring results for general health that can be at-
tained in no other way.
[15]
Now I hear the prompt rejoinder, "At last
you have reached the real problem. If I could
only go away to Florida or to Hot Springs, or if
I only had plenty of time I could take the neces-
sary exercise in the open air, but I can not even
get time for golf or tennis”. My friend, there
is again another wondrous Brook by the Way,
the Brook from which everyone may drink. It
is to be found in the simple ordinary, every day,
commonplace walk. Every one of us can walk
out into God's beautiful world if he will. It is
full of charm and interest. If we can go into
the country or the park we may see the wonder-
ful works of God, and if we must confine our-
selves to the city streets we have the equally di-
vine works of man with God's fresh air all about
us. The busiest of men could extend their
walks from the train or cars so that they would
easily afford a mile of good brisk exercise. The
wise and resolute man could walk a mile for his
luncheon instead of going into the cafe down-
stairs or just around the corner. There are few
women so tied down by the cares of home that
they could not well go out for a good brisk walk
every day. There is no lack here of opportunity
for abundant exercise in the open air. There is
indeed the Brook in the Way. The only trouble is
that there are so many of us who refuse to drink.
Yet here I would express a deep conviction
borne in by considerable experience; if every man
[16]
and woman would take a brisk, straight away two
mile walk every day there would be relatively little
illness.
Play
There is no truer adage than the old one that
"all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy".
It is the tendency of all of us poor human beings
to fall into ruts. It is not always so hard to keep
the wheels of life moving, but we soon come to
feel that they are grinding along in a dull and
stupid fashion. After all is said life is a steady
circumscribed routine for most of us. We
are in grip of circumstance. It is eat, work
and sleep in monotonous order. Life is one long
round of washing the same old dishes, darning
socks, writing letters, receiving and paying calls
or running the typewriter-in short, all the to-
morrows are just the same as the yesterdays, and
we grow tired and impatient with it all. Each
of us yearns to do the thing he does not have to
do. We all see visions of the Garden of Eden
where there is no work-and the things we are
forced to do in spite of ourselves are work-
where we can lie down and get up when we feel
like it, play with the animals, and otherwise en-
joy ourselves from morning to night. The play
instinct is not only a natural one, it is a neces-
sary one. In order that we may accept the re-
sponsibilities of life we must manage from time
[17]
to time to get away from them. Perhaps it may
seem superfluous to talk of play in our modern
life. One sometimes feels that the world has
gone pleasure mad. When we see the enorm-
ous throngs at the ball games and the nickel
theaters, in the dance halls and the saloons, it
seems hardly necessary to urge pleople to play.
It would seem that most of them would need to
be restrained. Nevertheless there are multitudes
who get very little joy out of life. Nor can one
avoid the sad conclusion that a large proportion
of people who think they are playing are really
working with might and main. There is a cer-
tain pathos about the ordinary American at his
play. He certainly makes labor of it. After
watching the howling, yelling crowd in a grand
stand at a ball game it is hard to avoid the con-
clusion that diversion of this sort is peculiarly
devised to drive many of its devotees into nervous
prostration. That man who was tired by his
business activities in the morning did not play
when he went to the ball game in the afternoon.
He worked twice as hard as he did in the morn-
ing and came home an utter wreck. A lot of
unsophisticated people imagine that those whom
they look upon as the Butterflies of Society find
life one round of pleasure; but this sort of pro-
fessional playing is the hardest kind of work
imaginable. After a short season of it those who
are fortunate enough to have the means often
[18]
flee to the country or to sanitariums. Occas-
sionally some young woman, who has been
trained in the habits of Society life, is compelled
by reverses in the family fortunes to work for a
living. Then follows the perfectly natural re-
sult, that she grows strong and well under the
beneficent influence of a regular restrained order
of living. It is an ungainsayable fact that the
strain for an ordinary woman at a crowded tea or
reception is far greater than it would be to go to
the laundry and do a good sized washing. If you
doubt this observe the women of your acquaint-
ance, when they come home from these delighful
affairs. Or if you are present at one of them
look about you and see the tremendous effort
that every one is making to hear and to be heard.
To be at one's best at a reception requires about
the same amount of mental and physical exertion
that would be needed to play a vigorous game
of basket ball. Women who are already tired
out with many household duties go and work all
the afternoon at a game of bridge whist and
fancy they are playing, whereas to tell the truth
many of them work harder at bridge than at any
thing else. Many men play golf in the same
fashion. Not long ago a friend confessed to me
that he had quit playing match games, because
he found that they took more strength than his
business. We Americans are so eager to win in
our games as well as in our business, that it some-
[19]
times seems as if we had lost the power to play.
Real play, as already indicated, is doing the
thing that takes one out of the routine of life and
brings real refreshment and re-invigoration.
Play must, then, divert and it must refresh. It
it most important to keep these two ideas dis-
tinguished in our minds, because in emphasizing
one we make the common mistake of overlooking
the other. There are many tired and weary
people who require strong diversions. They are
worried and anxious about their various affairs.
Possibly that business man who went to the ball
game had an anxious morning and there was
danger that he would become so worried over
his business that he would take it home with
him, think about it all the evening, possibly
pass a sleepless night, and arise quite unfitted
for facing his responsibilities the following day.
The first necessity for him, therefore, if he
would really rest, was to do something that
would make him forget. Golf or a brisk walk
would not sufficiently distract his attention. The
one thing that he needed was a pleasure that
would strongly draw his attention away from his
cares. If he was a lover of baseball here was
just the recreation which he needed.
A woman told me not long ago that when she
was recently driven nearly distracted with her
domestic problems, and at last the servant quite
without notice had packed her bag and departed,
[20]
she deliberately went to town and bought tickets
for the funniest play upon the boards. It was a
wise woman. She returned home able to see the
humorous situations of life, including those of
her own household. Frequently for the woman
who is so harried by the little problems of home
nothing can be better than a good exciting game
of bridge or a real uproarious afternoon tea.
One's own problems always seem relatively petty
when we go into the presence of other people.
On the other hand, the most common mistake
made by the majority of people is in constantly
seeking for excitement in their play. The hus-
band and wife, who are already tired out with a
hard day's work and who really need, more than
anything else, a good brisk walk out of doors
with something moderately interesting to look
at and the whole world is full of interesting
things-frequently rush into town, eat a dinner
in a noisy restaurant, go to a theater, get to bed
after midnight and wake up the next morning
feeling tired and wretched. Moreover, we
Americans are an amazingly suggestible people
and always go with the crowd. You hear lots
of men and women tell you that they hate the
crowd, but the real shallowness of their state-
ment is nowhere more apparent than in their
pleasures. Everybody rides a bicycle, or plays
golf, or plays bridge, or goes to the opera, or
rides in automobiles, or goes to dances, and to
[21]
the average men and women life is not really
worth living unless they can do these things
that everybody does. And so, as has already
been said, our play is work. The ordinary
business man who comes home at night and
wants his slippers and his cigar and a quiet even-
ing under the rays of the table lamp, is obeying
a perfectly natural instinct. He does not want
to go to a dinner, or a theatre or a party. He is
tired out and realizes that there is no form of
play so good for him at that to be found in a
good book or an interesting magazine; and it is a
wise wife who has managed to meet her own pe-
culiar need for diversion during the day and en-
courages her weary husband in that quiet form
of rest and play that he most sorely needs.
There is nothing to which most of us should
give more attention and consideration than to this
matter of play. At present our pleasures take a
vast amount of our thought and time and money
without giving us that real joy and refreshment
which are the rewards of true play. Play is a
fine art and each one of us must study his own
needs and the environment in which his lot is
cast.
-
There is no more common mistake that many
of us make than to imagine that real pleasure is
an expensive thing and that it lies far afield. I
haves spoken of theatres and ball games, and
restaurants, card parties and receptions, auto-
[22]
mobiles, golf and those other things which con-
stitute so large a part of the pleasure parapha-
nalia of our modern civilization. Yet, let no one
think that he needs to turn to any of these
things to meet the play demands of life. The
best pleasures of life are the simple pleasures.
Again it is the story of the Brook in the Way.
The most that Society can ever do is to give us
friends, and if there are any men and women in
the world who have not friends it is their own
fault. Bacon and eggs, bread and butter, tea
and toast, with a congenial friend or two and a
little leisure, with the talk of friends, are suf-
ficient for the perfect feast. If any of us wish
to travel afar all we have to do is to jump into one
of Robert Louis Stevenson's or Rudyard Kip-
ling's books and within a few moments we are
drifting over the gentle summer seas, amidst the
far away southern isles, or walking up and down
the roads of India. The modern great city has
its wonders waiting for us on every side. For a
dime one may make a trip to Poland or Bohemia,
to Italy or to China. If one lives in the heart of
the town there are all those marvellous buildings
and engineering achievements that show the
divine creative power of the human mind, and
there are the shop windows, filled with jewelry,
cut glass, clothes, pictures, and all sorts of mar-
vellous things which we may admire and enjoy
without anxiety as to loss by burglars, by fire or
-
[23]
by breakage through careless servants. At the
outskirts of the city and often within her very
borders there are all the endless gifts of God in
nature. There is the shining firmament with its
starry worlds of mystery. There are the won-
drous flowers and trees setting forth a glory ac-
cording to the varying seasons. Yes, and there
is always the opportunity to walk and walk and
walk again, to breathe in the fresh air and
see all the riches which God has strewn about
us. No truer lines were written than those by
that poet of eternal childhood, who truly kept
his play spirit to the end,
"The world is so full of a number of things,
I am sure we should all be as happy as kings”.
There are two other kinds of play with which
I wish to conclude this subject. The first one is
the play to be found in work itself. No man or
woman is right with the world who does not find
joy in the great serious occupation of his life—
his work. It is from their work that strong men
and women gain their best pleasure and recre-
ation. I shall never forget a conversation with a
sick man of independent means in the early days
of his convalescence. I was talking to him
about all the joys to be had in the great out-of-
doors. Suddenly he turned his eyes hard upon
me and said, "The one place that looks pleas-
anter to me than any other in the world is my
office." His work, as with every right minded
[24]
man, had become his life, and nothing could so
take from him the joy of living as to be separ-
ated from it. Of course there are times when
we are impatient and overborne by the details
of our work; but there is something radically
wrong with the woman who does not believe
that her home and her husband and her children
bring the greatest pleasure to her life, and with
the man who does not feel that in his work he is
performing a real task for God and for his fellow-
men. If you resent your work and are unhappy
in it, either change it or get down on your knees
and pray God to give you a true vision of its
reach and meaning,
A last bit of advice to those who seek pleasure
is that above all things they should strive to
serve others. Unless we have learned the joy of
making other people happy, we have missed the
best fun-if you will pardon the homely word-
that life has to give.
And all these things are to be found and to be
found only in the Brook in the Way.
Culture
Mr.
I need say only a few words about intellectual
refreshment commonly called Culture.
Arnold Bennett has been talking to us a lot
about it recently, telling us how to live on
twenty-four hours a day; and years ago Mr.
Matthew Arnold said to us, quoting the words
[25]
of a German writer, that if we would save just a
few of our wasted moments for this high pur-
pose “Die Zeit ist unendlich lang." I simply
want to point out that the burden of their sug-
gestions is really that we must drink of the Brook
in the Way. If you would know more literature,
art, or music, if you would make yourself more
proficient in some line of intellectual achieve-
ment, simply make use of the odd minutes as
they come here and there. First of all, make up
your mind as to what the subject is you wish to
pursue. Do not allow your precious moments to
be frittered away on a variety of subjects. For
the time being pick out one and focus your
energy upon it. Have a little book handy in
your pocket to read on the train or in the street
cars. Do not waste your time in trying to wade
through all kinds of magazines, and above all
do not squander too much time on the daily
papers. "Stick to your last' and presently you
will be amazed to see how power has come to
you.
One thing more. I know of no surer method
of real culture than to undertake some task for
the sake of one's fellow men. Start out in a real
way to do something for your community and
for the people about you, and you will be sur-
prised to see how this effort brings with it intel-
lectual training and culture. If you will serious-
ly tackle the problem of alleviating poverty or
[26]
abating the smoke nuisance, or beautifying the
city, or providing play grounds for children, or
battling with Tuberculosis, or securing better
roads or improving the public schools, you will
find yourself reading and working and working
and reading in that method which is now recog-
nized by modern educators as the most effective.
You will combine theory with practice, with
results that will be both startling and gratifying
to yourself.
The truth again to emphasize here is that the
acquisition of intellectual power is merely a mat-
ter of drinking from the Brook in the Way.
Spiritual Refreshment
Now a few words about spiritual refreshment.
I did not speak of this at the beginning, but the
world is sadly full of people who know not God;
and if you ask them why, they will tell you that
they have no time for their prayers, for reading
their Bibles or for going to Church. It is the
same old story. Therefore those things that
should seem most real are the most unreal, and
that premeating sense of God's presence wherein
is to be found the real power and joy and
strength of life is almost lacking. If we would
know God we must take time for Him, and for
the things of God. But here again let me re-
mind you that there is the Brook in the Way.
One may pray on the street or in the office as
[ 27 ]
well as at his bedside. One may meditate on
God and His work, His glory, His goodness and
His love while walking in the park as truly as
though shut up in the proverbial closet. A few
minutes a day spent in reading the Bible with
the idea of gaining spiritual power will work a
transformation in any life. Do not wait for the
days and hours of leisure which will never come.
Do not expect the telephone to stop ringing, or
the friends to stop calling or the children to
cease their constant demands upon your time.
There is the Brook in the Way and if you will
only drink as you go along you will presently
find yourself happy and buoyant in the presence
of your loving Father in Heaven.
The Only Way
After all that has been said I trust that it is
apparent that the Brook in the Way affords a way
of refreshment from the duties, burdens and
cares and the rush of life, but that we must go
much further and recognize the fact that it is the
only way. Rest is not to be found in the external
circumstances of life. It is to be found only in
the recesses of our own lives. It is in us and not
in circumstances. We are overborne in life not
chiefly through the conditions of life which beset
us, but because of our own habits and attitudes.
It is these which we must change. The solution
of the problem is not to be found by the seeking
[28]
somewhere for rest, under more favorable cir-
cumstances, but in learning how to rest. It is not
in running madly after pleasure, but in learning
how to play. It is not in seeking the time for
culture and intellectual growth and God, but in
learning how to gain culture and intellectual
power and spiritual power as we trudge the path
of life day by day. I have spoken of the Brook
in the Way and under the title of this little book
I have indicated that in the Brook in the Way is
to be learned the Art of Resting. Might I not
go further and declare that from the Brook in the
Way we may acquire the Art of Living.
OCT R
[29]
1916
*
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