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"If we give so much we shall exhaust our resources," is a common remark. Don't be afraid of that, my friend. See that little fountain yonder — away yonder in the distant mountain, shining like a thread of silver through the thick copse, and sparkling like a diamond in its healthful activity. It is hurrying on with tinkling feet to bear its tribute to the river. See, it passes a stagnant pool, and the pool hails it. "Whither away, master streamlet?" "I am going to the river to bear this cup of water God has given me." "Ah! you are very foolish for that; you'll need it before the summer is over. It has been a backward spring, and we shall have a hot summer to pay for it — you will dry up then." "Well," says the streamlet, "if I am to die so soon, I had better work while the day lasts. If I am likely to lose this treasure from the heat, I had better do good with it while I have it." So on it went, blessing and rejoicing in its course. The pool smiled complacently at its own superior foresight, and husbanded all its resources, letting not a drop steal away. Soon the midsummer heat came down, and it fell upon the little stream. But the trees crowded to its brink, and threw out their sheltering branches over it in the day of adversity, for it brought refreshment and life to them; and the sun peeped through the branches, and smiled complacently upon its dimpled face, and seemed to say, "It is not in my heart to harm you"; and the birds sipped its silver tide, and sang its praises; the flowers breathed their perfume upon its bosom; the beasts of the field loved to linger by its banks; the husbandman's eye sparkled with joy as he looked upon the line of verdant beauty that marked its course through his fields and meadows — and so on it went, blessing and blessed of all. God saw that the little stream never exhausted itself. It emptied its full cup into the river, and the river bore it on to the sea, and the sea welcomed it, and the sun smiled upon the sea, and the sea sent up its incense to greet the sun, and the clouds caught, in their capacious bosoms, the incense from the sea, and the winds, like waiting steeds, caught the chariots of the clouds and bore them away — away to the very mountain that gave the little fountain birth; and there they tipped the brimming cup, and poured the grateful baptism down. And so God saw to it, that the little fountain, though it gave so fully and so freely, never ran dry. And where was the prudent pool? Alas! in its inglorious inactivity it grew sickly and pestilential. The beasts of the field put their lips to it, but turned away without drinking. The breeze stooped and kissed it by mistake, but caught the malaria in the contact, and carried the ague through the region.

(R. F. Horton.)

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KJV: The liberal soul shall be made fat: and he that watereth shall be watered also himself.

WEB: The liberal soul shall be made fat. He who waters shall be watered also himself.