The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1884-12-10
Fog THg CLARION.
The Parable Of the Garden aud the
Stream.

Oace upon 8 time a beautiful garden
grew By suriy, Ill natured stream. A mar
1 row parapet or levee was the only barrier
/ that separated il from the tawny waters
and the vicious old stream knew that ii
/ it could once eat its way through this
/ green bank it could wreak on the garden
all the bitterness aud wrath its hard
I heart cherished against fair and lovely
( things. Such pure aud gracious beauty
adorned its flowers, such delicate odors
shook from its violets aud jasamines
( when the wind went wandering in its
| alleys that all things about the garden
except the stream loved and cherished
it. But morning, noon and night the
yellow, muddy water swirled angrily bv
and bit and gnawed at the bank with its
eating tooth. Sometimes it would gath
er up all its strength and make sudden
dart at the bank and whirl the clods its
eddies had caught away to the sea. The
sound that the falling clods sent up
always created a sickly smile on the
sallow countenance of the stream, and
the fairies that dwelt in the garden
Shuddered in the rose-cups where they
were sleeping and folded the petals
closer around them. Even the silly,
g1ssiping lilies stopped nodding their
giddy heads and hushed their babbling
As spring warmed to summer, and sum
mer deepened to autumn the grace and
beauty of the garden grew; but the
stream swirled by swifter than ever
before Sometimes venturous spray
Of clematis clambered up the green par
apet and peeped at the water with its
lovely frighted blue eyes; and some
times long limb of the climbing rose
would kiss it with its perfumed lips, but
the churlish stream only splashed its
muddy waters into the eyes of the elem
ats and growied at the rose. The gar
den was lovely at all times, but chiefly
SO when on the swoOning summer nights
the full moon splashed from her over
flowing bowl silver and pearl. 1t was
lovely too when the bugle breezes blew
their. reveille and the gold of the sun
light lay on each leaflet and the flower
petals, like the kiss of God. But such
beauty touched not the stream. 1t
went swirling on as before, and at last
one morning a tiny thread of its yellow
water crawled snake-like through little
rift it had eaten in the parapet. 1t said
nothing. but tugged away at the rift
until at last the whole stream came
tumbliHg in the garden with deep and
triumphant roar Bud and blossom
were swept to the sea- bird, bee, and
fairy fled forever, and the stars in their
midnight watches saw only wild waste
of waters,
So it is with man. The garden is our
life, and drunkenness the surly stream
that gnaws and bites at the parapet of
virtue that guards and protects. No
matter what virtues, graces and good
qua!itie, may adorn our life, this terri
bic temptation, drink, gnaws at our
good resolutions morning, noon and
night. Beauty, goodness and wealth
help not: they only give it time to work
its fearful ruin. Young men, the first
drink is the snake-like stream that
makes the rift into our virtues. at is
the little rift within the lutte that by
and hy will make the music mute and
ever widening slowly silence all"
=. ID. MARSHALL.
EDWARDS, Miss, Nov. 29th, 1891.