St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1891-11-08

Story OF his llfe. and then has spent
week in big city and seen the gaily
crowded streets and the lights and the
uproar, finds here phrased the thoughts
which unuttered have found themselves
again and again in his mind. He has
wondered how men and women have
had the courage and the endurance to
submit TO the martyrdom of isolation,
and in the hope Of what they have
DlOughed and reploughed the fields
which so reluctantly yield harvest.
He has wondered what pleasures or
prospects beguiled the people who week
after week saw nothing except the
sights OF an unkempt country village.
and talked with no one except score
or two of neighbors devoid OF expert
ence in life or the bUoyancy of success
and variety to make them attractive.
And against this he has placed the linn
itlesS possibilities of personal growth
and development in the city, the oppor-
tunltleS for diversion and pleasure, the
comforts attainable, the people to know.
the eXciIementS to experience. The
superficial observer has often noticed
all this, and has felt that the farmers
lot in a new and undeveloped country
must be an unenviable one; but along
with it all he has believed that there
must be some compenSatiOns, even
though they did not appear on the sur
face. Mr.. GARLAND's stories bring out
with marvellous cIearnesS of outline
all the horror, the depression, the bald
hess and the despair with which those
OF us who live in the West have so
often been struck. But when it comes
to suggesting the existence of a relief
or all offset, he is silent. He leaves the
impression that there is none. If he is
right, the Western farmers lite is as
uncomfortable as it seems.
THE PLEASURE OF WORK.
But he is not right in this. His pict-
ureS are taken from the standpoint of
| the observer. not from the standpoint Of
the actor. No one could live under the
| burden as lie shows it, if il were really
as heavy as it appears. Human strength
would succumb, and the main travelled
roads would be strewn with wrecks. or
| loud with the shouts of armed rioters.
The mOnOtOny OF the farmers winter
must have some cheer, even though the
wind does blow bleak. He cannot spend
his leisure in cdrSing his fate, or sink
IN heavy sleep compelled by exhaustion.
lie cannot labor without hope. or SOW
year after year without expecting to see
harvest, as Our author would have US
believe. Even though everything about
him were in reality as gloomy and sad
as human skill can describe, we may be
sure that it is not so to him. One of the
prOfOundeSt truths of the human soul is
this: 1t has infinite capacity to adapt
itself to its environment; and even when
to the sympathetic Oml0Oker it seems
crushed and wOrSIed beyond recovery.
it remains unconscious of its own con-
ditiOn. Every day we read of men Of
ordinary mold undergoing tortureS and
agonieS which we, who have never ex-
perienced them, faint at the thought of.
Men face death not only under the in
centiye of glory; but even condemned
criminals, with deprayed natures and
scourged with contumely and shame,
! walk unfalteringiy to the scaffold and
unfiinchlngly offer their arms to be
pinioned. The secret of all this is that
God long ago took away from mortals'
minds the capacity to realize the nature
of their surroundings. He has decreed
that their strength shall be as their
load, as well as their years. SO that,
even though the returned private really
could count on no furl0ugh except the
furlough of death, and even though the
brother chained to the stable, and the
muddy barnyard which he Ioathed,
| cried out when rescue was promised.
'Iod can't help NE now. It's too late"
neither of them appreciated that these
things were true. In spite of every
| thing, hope kindled ever in their breasts
until the end came.
Another thing should be thought of,
too, in connection with ali this. The
.edieS of dizziness and mOnotony and
or Do0tlesS effort are not known alone
to the poor Or the rustic. Such things
are experiences not OF the body,
but Of the mimi. There is ennui and
there is deadly dizziness in the palace,
as well as in the hOmesteader's hut. In
the crowded city tenement there are
linen and women dying as far from their
fellows as though they lived on the
| trackleSs, snOw-covered prairie. In
/ great cities there are toilers arising be-
| fore the sun, and still bending over the
bench when the electric lights are
| turned on, just as there are tired bodies
in the fields. Men and women pass
! their whole lives without ever seeing
| green tree or a bit of verdure, and
also without entering bright shop or
theater where music is playing and peo-
| pie are laughing And even the rich
and the powerful know disappointment
| and anxiety, and often in the-hour of
| trouble and defeat they would
welcome the isolation and the indie
| pendence of the most lonesome
of Gods creatures. The careers
! of all OF us are alterations of successes
| and failures. We taste some JOYS. and
| again drink the dregs of the CUP of suf-
| fering. All this is human nature: and
the farmer. even in a hard new country,
| has no more of his share than anv one
else. The great qualifications of life
are the qualifications of effort and the
consciousness of productive toll. Every
| one should choose the groove in which
! he would labor. LabOring in his own
groove faithfully and persistentIy, he
gets out of life the most that life has to
give. The lawyer who had rather be
farmer works discontentedly and iHef-
tectually, and so does the farmer who
had rather be soldier Striving to do
what they cannot do, men realize in the
butfetinGs they receive the tragedy
which is ever about u.s.. But striking
honest blows where their effect can be
seen, they have no time nor eyes to dis
Germ the shroud which settles down OH
human life, or the ghost which stalks
beside them. and, whether they he farm
ers or merchants, they are happy in
! spite OF themselves.
THE BUSINESS SITUATION.