A MOUNTAIN-SIDE RAMBLE. 



I will go lose myself. SHAKESPEARE. 



THERE are two sayings of Scripture 

 which to my mind seem peculiarly appro- 

 priate for pleasant Sundays, "Behold the 

 fowls of the air," and " Consider the lilies." 

 The first is a morning text, as anybody may 

 see, while the second is more conveniently 

 practiced upon later in the day, when the 

 dew is off the grass. With certain of the 

 more esoteric doctrines of the Bible (the 

 duty of turning the other cheek, for exam- 

 ple, or of selling all that one has and giving 

 to the poor) we may sometimes be troubled 

 what to do, unless, like the world in gen- 

 eral, we turn them over to Count Tolstoi 

 and his followers ; but such precepts as I 

 have quoted nobody is likely ever to quai'- 

 rel with, least of all any " natural man." 

 For myself, I find them always a comfort, 

 no matter what my mood or condition, 

 while their observance becomes doubly 

 agreeable when I am away from home ; the 



