On another occasion some devout and intensely religious saint, but at the same time probably a great sufferer from some adverse fortune, beheld a shepherd taking care of his sheep, providing for them food and water, caring for the sick and lame and nursing them back to strength, leading them out to pasture thru the narrow defiles of the mountains, amidst many dangers, yet guarding them diligently against all. And this sight gave rise to reflections on the divine providence that found expression in that sublime and beautiful Twenty-third Psalm: "The Lord is _my_ shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside still waters; He restoreth my soul." What is there in all the world's literature more inspired and more inspiring than this? And yet it is no more miraculous nor supernatural in its origin than the shepherd caring for his sheep. Inspiration is simply a condition or state of mind. It is purely psychological in its nature, and may be produced by a great variety of causes; but is not supernatural. To some extent, and in some degree, but by no means always equal, it has been common among all peoples of the past; and at all periods of their history. Specimens of it have come down to us in this age, enshrined and preserved in the literature, music and art of these peoples. It is as common among men today as it ever was in any past age. It is embodied in some degree, in most, if not all the literature, art and music of all ages; but by no means to the same extent in all. There are passages in Dante, Goethe, Shakespeare, Milton, Browning, Emerson, Carlyle, Bryant, Longfellow, Lowell, and a thousand others, ancient and modern, that are just as much the products of inspiration as the Twenty-third Psalm or the Sermon on the Mount. But no one would pretend to say that _all_ that these men wrote was equally inspired, or of equal value.