Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1880-02-20

lie is no rarity to begin with his name is
Legion. lie is everywhere he is our enc
my, our brother, ourselves. Go into any car,
church or theatre, and you will see him car
rying to his work, his prayers or even his
fun, the same doubtful, woe-begone visage.
This chronic condition of discomfort in the
American is inexplcable; it is not heredita-
ry. He is the son of the phlegmatic Eng
lshman, the gay Gaul, the happy -go-lucky
Irishman. Neither can you account for it 10y
il-fortune Unlike his father. he lives in
country better fed and fuller of chances than
any in the world. The most wretched, un-
smiling faces in car and church, oddly
enough, are intelligent and educated. They
belong usually TO healthy, wel-dressed bod
les. Such miserable people could have no
better occupation this Sunday morning than
resolutely to weigh this burden Of anxiety on
their backs. see what it really amounts to,
and find out if there is no way of getting rid
of it,
First. then A man is most frequently mis-
cradle abOutmone he wants bigger dividends
from his investments, or an increase of his
salary. For what purpose? Always, of
course, to bring him more comfort or happi-
ness sometimes for himself alone, but far
oftener for wife and children. Can he not
see that he is now destroying the end for the
sake of the means No man can reach mid
die age without discovering that happiness
and groenbacks are very different things.
The hours of real heartfelt fun, the supreme
experiences Of JOY or tenderness or rapt con-
tent which we remember in our lives, no
money bought for US. 1t was chance meet
ing with old friends, a day in the woods, a
sudden absurd frolic, a trife which proved
how dear we were to somebody. This anx-
ious man can 20 home now, if he chooses,
Will ri.ae rful avE and "a nleagant tpmnpF
IL can romp with the children; make joke
OF the scant meal, speak few hearty, tender
words to his wife. He can do it with an
empty pocket Yet he will scatter priceless
pleasure about him in the doing of it. Not
all his years of drudgery, probably, will ever
earn him the fortune which he thinks would
kindle life into brillancy for his children like
an electric spark But little commonplace
effort now, every day, on his part, to com
mand his frotful temper, to be a hopeful,
CHEEKY, heartening power in his home, will
flood it with a steady, enduring sunshine.
Above all. it is cruel and unfair TO little chill
dren to bring upon them the weight of our
nnSieties about money. Perpetual discus
sion of debts, or of fears as to the future, is
too common at many tables. If the parents
have neither philosophy nor religion to meet
these spectres of want and the worlds scorn,
how shall the poor babies struggle against
them? They have been brought into the
world without their assent, and father and
mother owe TO them, at least, the capital for
life of n happy childhood. Let it be scant
and bare, if needs must they will not see
its baroness unless you make them look
through your eyes; they will not know that
their wooden dolls are despised by dolls of
wax unless you tell them so. 1t is the chill
dren of the poor rather than of the rich who
have vulgarly high estimate of money and
social position, simply because they hear them
more necessarily talked about. A poor man
cannot at his will give his sons a fortune,
but he can give them stout quality of en-
durance, CHEEKY tempers and a belief in that
aristocracy of character beside whose infiu-
ence the power of wealth is as the shining of
the base metal beside the warmth of the sun.
A mans troubles probable have a deeper
source than cares about money He has
made mistake in marriage. He is diseased.
Some talent or fierce desire in him is forever
thwarted. Yet why should he hoist the sign
of defeat to all the world? If there is sin
gle chance left of victory it can only be gain
ed by a cheerful and courageous spirit. What
kind of a soldier is he who goes into battle
perpetually shouting, All is lost If there is
absolutely no hope, then let us face the inev-
table. Our sorrows are our own let us put
them out of sight. 1t is in as ill-taste to
>
the car and theatre, as for the beggar to un-
veil his sores at the street-corners. Neither
have we any right to daunt the courage of
other men by publicly owning that vixenish
wife or a crime which we once committed
has conquered US body and soul
With many men this miserable demeanor
grows out of no real grief, but physical all
ment We give our lives to brooding over
it, We make of the neuralgia arm or dyspep-
tic stomach a black cloud to overshadow the
whole early lives of our children. Perhaps
some of our readers may answer that such ad-
vice is mere idle babble Their trouble is
real it is greater than human strength can
bear. That may be true. Such supreme tri-
ais have been sent to men. Yet we read of
weak women, even of little children, who
have borne them. The help given to them
was more substantial than any philosophy
hope that sustained them and left them above
pains which have proved uncomfortable to the
most masculine souls If these pains threaten
toprove mortal to u.s. is it not worth our while to-
day to examine into the hope and help which
are offered to us freely as to them ?-N
y. Sunday Tribune