THE sweet summer’s evening a lady and gentleman were standing together in a lovely garden. At their feet spread out a bed of roses in full bloom, filling the calm air with refreshing odor; a little lake, imaging on its surface the surrounding trees and the pale sky, formed the middle ground; and long, low hills melting into the distance seemed to unite earth with heaven. The gentleman was a visitor, and was waiting for the host.
Presently he arrived. Almost the first words of his visitor, after the usual greeting, were these― “Weeds!” And then ensued a dissertation on weeds― “corrupting everywhere.” The well-ordered rose bed did not own many weeds we can vouch, but the keen eye of the visitor had marked what he saw, and his mind became full of the corruption of weeds. The eye of the amiable host had been trained differently. He looked on the beautiful, and did so because he loved it. And surely to fix one’s eye upon a weed in a rose bed, and to look for weeds in the blaze and perfume of a summer garden, is a sorry occupation.
The little story has a voice to us. Whatsoever things are lovely, pure, honest, of good report―think on these things. It is the way of peace for the heart. Train the eye of the heart in looking for Christ in His people. Rejoice in the sunshine of His garden, in the excellence of its perfume, in its varied graces.
Where He finds so much to love, so much to please, look not for the weed in the rose bed.