Brodie's diary is one
of the most humiliating, heart-searching, and heart-instructing books I
ever read. Let all public men tempted and afflicted with a facile,
pliable, time-serving heart have honest Brodie at their elbow.
'Glad I am, my good companion,' said Pliable, after the passage about the
cherubim and the seraphim, and the golden crowns and the golden harps,
'it ravishes my very heart to hear all this. Come on, let us mend our
pace.' This is delightful, this is perfect. How often have we ourselves
heard these very words of challenge and reproof from the pliable
frequenters of emotional meetings, and from the emotional members of an
emotional but rootless ministry. Come on, let us mend our pace! 'I am
sorry to say,' replied the man with the burden on his back, 'that I
cannot go so fast as I would.' 'Christian,' says Mr. Kerr Bain, 'has
more to carry than Pliable has, as, indeed, he would still have if he
were carrying nothing but himself; and he does have about him, besides, a
few sobering thoughts as to the length and labour and some of the
unforeseen chances of the way.
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