The Harvest of a Quiet Eye

at Home. Their publication in a collected form having been decided upon by others, it only remained for me, by care

d and sinful world should not have its term together with thex quick ending of our short day's labour here:-and a book has the possibility of a longer life than that of a man. The Night cometh, when none can work; how sweet, if it might

ef, nor fully employed; inanimate things seem to have an

of youth, defied The elements, must vanish:-be it so! Enough, if somethin

ve but the ambition of a flower that looks up to cheer, or a bird's note that tranquilly, amid storms, continues a simple melody from the

rth, and hallowing them-one heard beside "the common path that common men pursue":-one rising from the common work-a-day experiences, joys, and pains-rising from these and carrying them up with it heavenward, until even earth's exhalations catch the light of an unearthly glory. We want more of this spiritual rest; more of this standing apart fr

t thought were sometimes permitted to be natural, spontaneous, and simply expressive of that which the heart's meditations have laid by in store. A stream thus welling up will want the precision and t

t pleasure. Only I would ask, is there absolute need that we be always blowing either? may we not sometimes be permitted simply to breathe? There are occasions on which I find myself compelled to blow one or the other, but I grudge the good breath spent in the exertion, and prefer to return to the normal state of even respiration. A story, told o

more need that we should secure breathing times when we may sheathe the biting sword and lay the heavy armour by. Perhaps many with whom we w

emned, in their single-eyed advance upon some goal; with some it is a thing continual and habitual, this instinctive gathering and half-unconscious storing of hints and touches of wayside beauty-a process so well described in Wordsworth's verses. To have an eye for the wide pictures and slight

note the red leaf shivering on the spray, To mark the last bright tints the mountain sta

f the grasses; a coral twist of briony berries; a daisy inxiv December;-the eye would be caught, and the train of grave or anxious musing intermitted without being broken off,

a very little fed a great multitude, has a ministry for even our humble handfuls. At His feet be this laid: may He accept and bless it, and deign t