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My little girl gazing one day upon the brown freckled ripples of a streamlet, suddenly said to me, "Why does the water always run?" This is a question that is apt to puzzle many older minds. It seems a great mystery why hour after hour the stream should continue to flow without any diminution. You sit beside it a whole forenoon and watch a stone in its bed, and you see that the water keeps the same level along its sides. Day after day its voice is as full-toned and its sparkle as bright as ever; and you wonder from what perennial fountain comes the inexhaustible supply. Let us ascend to the source of the stream, and we shall obtain an explanation of the mystery. We see in the cushions of moss around its source the explanation of the ceaseless flow of the streamlet down in the valley. Nearly all our mountain tops have large spaces covered with dense carpets of moss. On these the snow appears early and lingers late; and during the rest of the year the clouds and mists are constantly distilling their moisture into them. They are therefore thoroughly charged with water, and give rise, wherever the ground forms a sloping hollow, to tiny rills, which drain the mossy sides of the hill, and nourish large quantities of moss along their course; and these in their turn imbibe more moisture from the clouds and mists, and conserve the gathering waters, until at last they acquire some volume, and in well-defined channels flow down to the valley in a series of snowy cascades and sparkling pools. Moss serves on our mountains which are below the snow-line the same purpose which the glacier serves on the mountains of other lands that are above the snow-line. They each afford one of the most striking examples of those marvellous adjustments which pervade the whole economy of nature. Without the intervention of the glacier and the moss the moisture that falls on the mountain summits would speedily run off in raging torrents, inundating the plains, scattering over the cultivated fields the barren debris of the mountains, and leaving behind after their subsidence a dry white wilderness of stones and mud. But the moss and the glacier retain the moisture of the clouds, and part with it gradually and safely, allowing it to descend to the plains so gently and continuously that, instead of destroying, it imparts beauty and fertility to the fields. Associated with the glacier and the moss in the formation of the springs that run among the hills, is the tree. The Chinese have a proverb that the grandest rivers are cradled in the leaves of the pine. Artificial springs may be created among the foldings of the hills by simply digging a hole in the ground, and sheltering it from the sun's rays by planting around it trees and bushes, when the rain that falls will drain towards this hole, and in a short time make it a source of living water. The rod of Moses, smiting the rock and producing the miraculous water from it, is thus in a line with the natural way in which the growth of the tree on the arid rock gives birth to a fountain. Periodical rains, however abundant they may be, speedily pass away and descend into the valleys with unrestrained violence, doing infinite harm. But the alpine woods retain the fallen moisture long after the storm has abated, and the surface of the hill is dried up under the scorching sun. The continued existence of moisture in these woods, and the constant evaporation from them, produce a cooler atmosphere, which in its turn attracts and condenses the vapour of the clouds and thus replenishes the springs. Nor must we omit from this wonderful partnership in the circulation of the vital fluid of the earth, the agency of rocks. Layers of sand alternating with rocky strata imbibe and retain an immense quantity of water, which supplies the source of springs. Ordinary building stones contain a large percentage of moisture. Granite and marble are highly absorbent. Limestone contains two pints of water in every cubic foot, and as it is more pierced and more easily dissolved by the carbonic acid which the rain-water holds in solution, it forms the best of all mediums for the formation of springs and wells. Hence the abundance of fountains in the Holy Land, whose geological structure is almost entirely limestone. Even the driest rock has its pores filled with moisture like a sponge. Mountain rocks are thus vast storehouses of water, which husband and equalize the supply, and replenish the springs with unfailing regularity, independently of the varying rainfall. Very mysterious seems the origin of a spring as it sparkles up from the bosom of the mountain, from the heart of the rock into the sunshine. We do not wonder that in ancient times it should be regarded as the local haunt of some Divine presence. the sites of the Grecian oracles were always beside springs, whose water gushing up from the dark depths of the earth expressively symbolized the Divine voice speaking from the unseen world. And in harmony with the same idea, the Hebrew name of a prophet was derived from the bubbling forth of the waters of a spring, implying that his utterances were the irresistible overflowings of the Divine fountain of inspiration in his soul. Beside the well of Sychar, incarnate in human form, in visible manifestation to the eyes of men, was the great Reality to whom all these myths and symbols pointed, who thirsted Himself that He might give us to drink. And if our eyes be purged with spiritual eye-salve, we too shall see beside every spring the True Oracle, the Great Prophet, the Divinity of the waters who "sendeth the springs into the valleys which run among the hills."

(H. Macmillan, D.D.)

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KJV: He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills.

WEB: He sends forth springs into the valleys. They run among the mountains.