There was a compensation in Asher's rough portion. His rugged hills had iron in them. This law of compensation runs through all God's distribution of gifts. In the animal world there is a wonderful harmony, often noted, between the creatures and the circumstances and conditions amid which they are placed. The same law rules in the providence of human life. One man's farm is hilly and hard to till, but deep down beneath its ruggedness, buried away in its rocks, there are rich minerals. One person's lot in life is hard, with peculiar obstacles, difficulties and trials; but hidden in it there are compensations of some kind. One young man is reared in affluence and luxury. He never experiences want or self-denial, never has to struggle with obstacles or adverse circumstances. Another is reared in poverty and has to toil and suffer privation. The latter seems to have scarcely an equal chance in life. But we all know where the compensation lies in this case. It is in such circumstances that grand manhood is grown, while too often the petted, pampered sons of luxury come to nothing. In the rugged hills of toil and hardship, life's finest gold is found. There are few things from which young people of wealthy families suffer more than from over-help. No noble-spirited young man wants life made too easy for him by the toil of others. What he desires is an opportunity to work for himself. There are some things no other one can give us; we must get them for ourselves. Our bodies must grow through our own exertions. Our minds must be disciplined through our own study. Our hearts' powers must be developed and trained through our own loving and doing. One writes of two friends and two ways of showing friendship:-- "One brought a crystal goblet overfull Of water he had dipped from flowing streams That rose afar where I had never trod-- Too far for even my quickened eye to see. They were fair heights, familiar to his feet-- They were cool springs that greeted him at morn, And made him fresh when noon was burning high, And sang to him when all the stars were out; His hand had led them forth, and their pure life Was husbanded, with sacred thrift, for flower, And bird, and beast, and man. The hills were his, And his the bright, sweet water. Not to me Came its renewal. I was still athirst. "The other looked upon me graciously, Beheld me wasted with my bitter need, And gave me--nothing. With a face severe, And prophet brow, he bade me quickly seek My own hard quarry--there hew out a way For the imprisoned waters to flow forth Unhindered by the stubborn granite blocks That shut them in dark channels. I sprung up, For that I knew my Master; and I smote, Even as Moses, my gray, barren rock, And found sufficient help for all my house, All my servants, all my flocks and herds."