Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-05-14
A Cure for the Blues.

ONCE knew a rich man who had a
pleasant home and every thing about
him to make his heart happy and mer-
ry. Music and flowers, pictures and
books, children and an excellent wife,
horses and carriages, well-stocked
farms, and money enough in the bank,
all these he had TO make him glad and
grateful. That man remarked to me
one day that we had been viewing
some Of his possessions: You would
think" said he, " that 1 ought to be
one of the happiest of living men. And
l am happy, generally; but once in a
while | am seized with a fit of the blues
or the hypO, or whatever you may call
it, and then everything goes wrong.
Instead of being the happiest 1 am the
most wretched of mOrtals, becoming so
peevish and so cross that l can scarcely
bear myself, and giving all my family
good reason to hate the very sight of
me and to shun my presence. Even
the dog at such times eyes me with
suspicion, and skulks away and hides
until the storm of my displeasure
passes and the fair weather of mild
er mood succeeds. But have found a
sure and speedy cure for these attacks.
1t is-to go at once and do some deed
of kindness, or throw myself in contact
with some shocking example of misery
and distress. / find work for poor
man; that cures me. 1 see a criminal
marched off to Jail and think there
goes myself but for the grace of God;
and that cures me.
II 90 down to the almshouse and
behold behind the CRATES young man
who was once the hope of fond parents,
now sordid, haggard, wild, bereft of
reason; and as peer through the bars
and look at the poor fellow almost
naked, sitting upon his wooden bunk,
and with. his long, bony fingers and
hideous claw.like nails, picking the
straw up into little fine chips that fall
in heap at his bare feet, that cures me.
Another sure relief is to pay visit to
an old lady who lives in a little cottage
at the foot of the hall. She has passed
the ordinary limit of life by a score of
years and her eyes are closed upon the
scenes of this world. Her wants are
few and simple. A small gift, like a
mellow apple or something else that
she likes to eat, fills her with gratitude.
Nothing pleases her more than to have
friend call and read one of her favorite
chapters in the Bible and pray with
her. 1 have frequently done this, and
never without receiving blessing in
the change wrought in my own feel
ings. Somehow during such inter-
views the hypo all disappears. And
when | rise to go and the good old
mother clasps my hands in both of hers
and says, as she always does, God
bless you, my son! am so glad you
came. Now, come and see me often
until go to the long home. 1t is dark
here. but all is bright up yonder. 1
know that my Redeemer lives, and if l
only wait with patience until the day
breaks and the shadows flee away, /
shall see the King in His beauty. God
is good, He doeth all things WE'LL As
she speaks, some of the pure, Heavenly
light, reflected from the upturned face
OF the aged saint, streams into my soul
and causes me to forget all my petty
annoyances and troubles, and rejoice
with her in the goodness of God. The
light of Christian faith is a sure cure
for the blues.
This gentleman's experience may
prove valuable as a guide to those who
are inclined to be Respondent. Count
your mercies. "Is any among you
afflicted Let him pray.h Is any dis
satisfied Let him feed on the promises
of the Bible. Trust in the Lord and
do good; 80 shalt thou dwell in the land
and verify thou shalt be fed. ."-ReU. Il.
G. Laurence, IN Christian Intelltgencer.