if uttering a benediction, say, "God bless our
brother-friend." Many speak of this spot as the Garden of God. My
friend calls it his Soul Garden, and he spends many hours in quiet
here. Often have I seen him after the others have gone, walking to and
fro, or sitting quietly in the clear moonlight on an old rustic bench,
drinking in the perfume of the wild flowers. He is a man of a
beautifully simple nature. He says that here the real things of life
come to him, and that here his greatest and most successful plans, many
times as by a flash of inspiration, suggest themselves to him.
Everything in the immediate vicinity seems to breathe a spirit of
kindliness, comfort, good-will, and good cheer. The very cattle and
sheep as they come to the old stone-fence at the edge of the grove and
look across to this beautiful spot seem, indeed, to get the same
enjoyment that the people are getting. They seem almost to smile in
the realization of their contentment and enjoyment; or perhaps it seems
so to the looker-on, because he can scarcely help smiling as he sees
the manifested evidence of their contentment and pleasure.
The gate of the pond is always open wide enough to admit a supply of
water so abundant that it continually overflows a quantity sufficient
to feed a stream that runs through the fields below, giving the pure
mountain water in drink to the cattle and flocks that are grazing
there. The stream then flows on through the neighbors' fields.
Not long ago our friend was absent for a year. He rented his estate
during his absence to a man who, as the world goes, was of a very
"practical" turn of mind. He had no time for anything that did not
bring him direct "practical" returns. The gate connecting the
reservoir with the lotus pond was shut down, and no longer had the
crystal mountain water the opportunity to feed and overflow it. The
notice of our friend, "All are welcome to the Lotus Pond," was removed,
and no longer were the gay companies of children and of men and women
seen at the pond. A great change came over everything. On account of
the lack of the life-giving water the flowers in the pond wilted, and
their long stems lay stretched upon the mud in the bottom. The fish
that formerly swam in its clear water soon died and gave an offensive
odor to all who came near. The flowers no longer bloomed on its banks.
The birds no longer came to drink and to bathe. No longer was heard
the hum of the bees; a
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