Life thoughts, gathered from the extemporaneous discourses of Henry Ward Beecher. By one of his congregation.

270 LIFE THOUGHTS.
are fond of the sun and air." and, satisfied, it says,
"I am an excellent vine." But the gardenerstanding near, exclaims, " The useless thing! I paid ten
dollars for the cutting, and I have pruned and cultivated it, and for years looked for the black Hamburg grapes it was to bear, but it has yielded only
leaves." He does not care that the roots love the
soil, and WUe stem the summer. It makes no difference to him though every leaf spread itself broad as
Sahara in its barrenness. It is fruit that he wants.
Now, reading the Bible is like the roots in the soil,
and liking Sunday is like the stem in summer, and
being fond of religious conversation is like the leaves
in the sun and air. If religion does not bring forth
fruit in the life, all these things are as worthless in
the sight of God, as is the barren vine in the thought
of the gardener.
Around the chef d'Xcuvres in the galleries of Europe, artists are always congregated. You may see
them standing before Raphael's Transfiguration,
copying with the nicest care, every line and tint
of that matchless work; glancing constantly from
their canvas to the picture, that even in the minutest parts they may reproduce the original. But if
at one side you saw an artist who only looked up
occasionally from his work, and drew a line, but
filled in here a tree or a waterfall, and there a deer