238 IN PRAISE OF THE WEYMOUTU PINE. 



otee turns critic an easy step, alas, for 

 half -hearted worshipers we are conscious 

 of no lack. Magnificence can do without 

 prettiness, and a touch of solemnity is bet- 

 ter than any amusement. 



Where shall we hear better preaching, 

 more searching comment upon life and death, 

 than in this same cathedral? Verily, the 

 pine is a priest of the true religion. It 

 speaks never of itself, never its own words. 

 Silent it stands till the Spirit breathes upon 

 it. Then all its innumerable leaves awake 

 and speak as they are moved. Then "he 

 that hath ears to hear, let him hear." Won- 

 derful is human speech, the work of gen- 

 erations upon generations, each striving to 

 express itself, its feelings, its thoughts, its 

 needs, its sufferings, its joys, its inexpressi- 

 ble desires. Wonderful is human speech, 

 for its complexity, its delicacy, its power. 

 But the pine-tree, under the visitations of 

 the heavenly influence, utters things incom- 

 municable; it whispers to us of things we 

 have never said and never can say, things 

 that lie deeper than words, deeper than 

 thought. Blessed are our ears if we hear, 

 for the message is not to be understood by 



