"But all is tame and commonplace," I answered. "We have this over
and over again, day after day, month after month, and year after
year. Give me something brilliant and startling, if it be in the
fiery comet or the rushing storm. I am sick of the commonplace!"
"And yet to the commonplace the world is indebted for every great
work and great blessing. For everything good, and true, and
beautiful!"
I looked earnestly into the face of the old man. He went on.
"The truly good and great is the useful; for in that is the Divine
image. Softly and unobtrusively has the dew fallen, as it falls
night after night. Silently it distilled, while the vagrant meteors
threw their lines of dazzling light across the sky, and men looked
up at them in wonder and admiration. And now the soft grass, the
green leaves, and the sweet flowers, that drooped beneath the
fervent heat of yesterday, are fresh again and full of beauty, ready
to receive the light and warmth of the risen sun, and expand with, a
new vigor. All this may be tame, and commonplace; but is it not a
great and a good work that has been going on?
"The tiller of the soil is going forth again to his work.
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