St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1890-12-28

ers call God. These last are the COM
mon heritage of all men.
Sunday is most of all the day for the
cultivation of these things of the heart,
and he does not get to the full what it
has to offer who does not use it to
this end. The exchange Of familiar
condolences among friends is easier now
than in the hurry of the week. In our
bright climate, on such mornings as we
have had of late, the brisk Sunday air
nerves those who drink it in, whether
they walk smartly, after the manner of
the athlete, or loter by the way, as do
lovers, hoping to lengthen their path by
pacing it slowly. The churches, too,ar
open, with their contributions to the
pleasures of the emotions, which one OF
us Will get by going inside; and another,
perhaps in greater measure, from the
muff1ed music which he hears as he
passes by. There is great deal of the
poetry of life in the coolest church serv-
ice, even to the unbelieyer, and great
deal even for us who do not go within
its doors. We all remember now
THAClERAY, in his wantoDnesS of
the good things, makes PENDENNIS
dash Oft his half-doZen verses on 1.-THE
Church Porch" that he may turn
nimble guinea while he is living in
chambers with WARRINGTON in Lon
don. They are thrown in as trifie;
but, like ali art, they are only the ex-
preston In luminous way of the
thoughts of common men. THACKERAY
himself probably had felt simply, as all
of us have. the pleasant eXhilaration, as
standing without he watched the COM
fortable-looking people come slowly
forth into the street, the service over.
while behind them the organ notes were
pealing. His was the art of expression;
but the art of feeling belongs to us as
completely as to him.
There is a danger that we will not see
how much there is in these trifles, and,
standing in the hope of great and I'M
usual qualifications. find ourselves
grown old with the sweetness of life UNI
tasted. We think that even those who
have achieved the most and have the
greatest fund of experience on which to
draw for reflection and review will adj
NIT that it is not the memory of their
greatest victories on which their minds
dwell with greatest pleasure. We re-
member that once upon a time, in the
sunny summer, we met on country
roadside in the East man who had
won fame and gold as war correspond
ent for one of the great newspapers of
the world. He had spent many years
of his life in the society OF those who
had made and unmade kings, and wars
arumS and the carnage of battles mad
been to him daily experience, as our
simple tasks are to us. He had painted
with his pen in Russian colors of red
and yellow the scenes through which he
had gone so vigorously and so bravely
that all men everywhere who could read
had looked for his chronicle as it ap-
peared and had applauded his work.
And yet he told US that quiet afternoon
that the memory of all those brilliant
days had faded from his mind. and that
as he read what he had written he some
times wondered whether it was true, al
though he knew that it was. Uneventful
hours with his children, little rowing
parties as an undergraduate on the Isis,
evenings passed with his friends lived
brightly i'll his mind. But although he
was young and his powers were unfaded
and strong, the succession of catastro-
ply and pageant he had witnessed had
been so bewildering in its brilliancy
that their memory had tarried with him
for only a little while and then had
gone. He said that the abiding things
of life were its little things, and that the
little things of life were really its great
things. We believe that this is so.