The Garden of Peace

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Oct 11, 1877

The Garden of Peace.

In an ancient city of the east, two youths were passing a beautiful garden. It was enclosed by a lofty trellis, which prevented their entering; but, through the openings they could perceive that it was a most enchanting spot. It was embellished by every object of nature and art that could give beauty to the landscape. There were groves of lofty trees, with winding avenues between them; there were green lawns, the grass of which seemed like velvet; there were groups of shrubs, many of them in bloom, and scattering delicious fragrance upon the atmosphere.

Between these pleasing objects, there were fountains sending their silvery showers into the air; and a stream of water, clear as crystal, wound with gentle murmurs through the place. The charms of this lovely scene were greatly heightened by the delicious music of birds, the hum of bees, and the echoes of many youthful and happy voices.

The two young men gazed upon the scene with intense interest; but, as they could only see a portion of it through the trellis, they looked about, for some gate by which they might enter the garden. At a little distance they perceived a gateway, and they went to the spot, supposing they should find an entrance there. There was, indeed, a gate; but it was locked, and they found it impossible to gain admittance.

While they were considering what course they should adopt, they perceived an inscription over the gate, which ran as follows:—

“Ne’er till to-morrow’s light delay What may as well be done to-day; Ne’er do the thing you’d wish undone, Viewed by to-morrow’s rising sun. Observe these rules a single year, And you may safely enter here.”

The two youths were very much struck by these lines; and, before they parted, both agreed to make the experiment by trying to live according to the inscription.

I need not tell the details of their progress in the trial; both found the task much more difficult than they at first imagined. To their surprise, they found that an observance of the rule they had adopted required an almost total change of their modes of life; and this taught them what they had not felt before, that a very large part of their lives—a very large share of their thoughts, feelings, and actions—were wrong, though they were considered virtuous young men by the society in which they lived.

After a few weeks, the younger of the two, finding that the scheme put too many restraints upon his tastes, abandoned the trial. The other persevered, and, at the end of the year, presented himself at the gateway of the garden.

To his great joy he was freely admitted; and if the place pleased him when seen dimly through the trellis, it appeared far more lovely, now that he could actually tread its pathways, breathe its balmy air, and mingle intimately with the scenes around.

This garden fitly represents the happy home promised to those who conquer selfishness, those who conquer their passions, and do their duty. The tall gateway is the barrier interposed by human vices and human passions, which separates mankind from that peace, of which we are all capable. Whoever can conquer himself, and has resolved firmly that he will do it, has found the key to that gate, that he may freely enter here. If he cannot do that, he must continue to be an outcast from the Garden of Peace.—Youth’s Instructor.