PETER PARLEY’S NEW STORIES.
No. IV.
The Garden of Peace.
There are few persons who do precisely as they ought to do. It is very seldom that any one, even for a single day, discharges every duty that rests upon him, at the same time avoiding everything that is wrong. There is usually something neglected, delayed, or postponed, that ought to be done to-day. There is usually some thought entertained, some feeling indulged, some deed committed, that is sinful. If any person doubts this, let him make the experiment; let him watch every thought and action for a single day, and he will be very likely to perceive that what we say is true—that all fall far short of perfect obedience to the rule of right.
And yet, if a person can once make up his mind to do right, it is the surest way to obtain happiness. The manner in which this may be accomplished, and the pleasant consequences that follow, I shall endeavor to show by an allegory, which will, at the same time, exhibit the evils that proceed from an habitual and determined neglect of duty.
In an ancient city of the East, two youths chanced to be passing a beautiful garden. It was enclosed by a lofty trellis, which prevented their entering the place; but, through its openings, they could perceive that it was a most enchanting spot. It was not a place where kitchen vegetables are produced, but it was embellished by every object of nature and art that could give beauty to the landscape. There were groves of lofty trees, with winding avenues between them. There were green lawns, the grass of which seemed like velvet. There were groups of shrubs, many of them in bloom, and scattering delicious fragrance upon the atmosphere.
Between these pleasing objects there were fountains sending their silvery showers into the air; and a stream of water, clear as crystal, wound with gentle murmurs through the place. The charms of this lovely scene were greatly heightened by the delicious music of birds, the hum of bees, and the echoes of many youthful and happy voices.
The two young men gazed upon the landscape with intense interest; but as they could only see a portion of it through the trellis, they looked out for some gate by which they might enter the garden. At a little distance, they perceived an arch, and they went to the spot, supposing that they should find an entrance here. There was, indeed, a gate; but, behold, it was locked, and they found it impossible to gain admittance!
While they were considering what course they should adopt, they perceived an inscription upon the arch above, which ran as follows:
“Ne’er till to-morrow’s light delay