and costly
sympathy. Jonathan really sympathized with David in his trials and his
difficulties. He did not express that sympathy in any cheap and
distant way. He might have sent David word that if he needed anything
just to let him know. He might have dispatched a servant to comfort
David in his sore trials. But he did not try to express his sympathy
at long distance. He went to David. He came to handclasp with the man
that he wished to help.

Now, I am perfectly aware of the fact that much of our sympathy must be
expressed at a distance. For instance, we cannot all go to the foreign
field. We must express our interest in those who have not had our
opportunities by our gifts. Much of the service we render in our own
land must be rendered in the same way. But when that is said, the fact
still remains that there is nothing that will take the place of our
hand-to-hand dealing with those who need us. We cannot perform all our
charities by proxy. We must come in personal contact with those whom
we would help.

There is one poem I think that we have a bit overworked:

"Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish--and so am I.
So why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
And be a friend to man.

"I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men that press on with the ardor of hope,
And the men who are faint in the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
And be a friend to man.

"I know there are brook gladdened meadows ahead,
And mountains of wearisome height.
And the road passes on through the long afternoon,
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice,
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road,
Like one who dwells alone."

Now that is good, but after all,--

"It's only a half truth the poet has sung
Of the house by the side of the way.
Our Master had neither a house nor a home,
But He walked with the crowd day by day.
I think when I read of the poet's desire
That a house by the road would be good,
But service is found in its tenderest