“In a mountainous region, in the south-western part of the state of New York, there are innumerable little rills, running in different direction, some, whose sources are within a mile of each other, taking opposite courses. Interspersed throughout the same region are a multitude of little lakes, opening their placid bosoms to the sun, as is rays fall obliquely upon them through the mountains, converting the little ripples which play upon their surface into the appearance of a thousand sparkling gems. The careless observer, as he gazes with rapture upon the broad surface of the lovely lake, takes no notice of the little rill that murmurs its quiet way through the forest. Yet while the beautiful lake, in apparent self-complacency, opens its fair bosom to the admiring gaze of the passing stranger, the modest rill is patiently pursuing its unwearied course along the sides of the mountains, through deep ravines, and across the verdant vale, mingling with sister rills, increasing in size, swelling into streams, till stream meets stream, and river meats river, forming, in one direction, the noble Susquehanna, in another, the majestic St. Lawrence, and, in a third, the mighty Mississippi, - pouring incessantly a flood of water into the ocean.
So, while a few splendid acts of charity may, like the quiet lake, contribute to the self-complacency of their authors, and draw upon them the admiring gaze of the multitude, it is the aggregate of the little rills that must form the great streams of benevolence, which are to flow on and fertilize the earth, and fill it with the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the face of the great deep.
Young Lady’s Guide pg. 236-237
No comments:
Post a Comment