The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1895-04-19

tradicted her first impression Of him.
and she supposed he was going to
curse his congregation in good set
Biblical terms, after the fashion of
his brethren. Hes only a man until
he gets into the pulpit she said to
herself, then he becomes the school
master, and rates us ALL"
But soon it dawned upon her that no
spiritual f1agellist was here, but a
reasonable man appealing to the rea-
son of his fellow human beings. and
from the following words EDWARDS he
rivited ner attention.
LET us look to-day at true and false
discomfort in regard to personal cir
cumstances.
"And here we must distinguish be-
tween circumstances which are unal-
terable, and circumstances which are
capable of being modified and changed.
In matters of the first kind all dis
content is bad and foolish. 1t not only
does no good, but 1t does actual harm;
1t positively increases the evil at which
we grumble : a No doubt dis
content may be in some degree con-
stitutional, a matter of physique, pro-
ceeding rather from diseased state OF
nerves, than from the mind or heart.
But even in these cases there is a good
deal that we may accomplish Tor our
selves by voluntary effort. The mind
may exert almost as great an influence
on the body as the body exerts upon
the mind. A temperament which Is
naturally inclined to melancholy may,
by voluntary effort, be considerably
do OLE ha,
sanguine. We should persistently Gull
tivate the habit-unless We have it by
nature--of forcing ourselves to dwell
on the agreeabl side of things rather
than on the disagreeable, of forcing
ourselves to think of the pleasures we
have, rather than of those we have not.
There is so much pleasantness in life
which the most of us lose through want
of thought. 1t is pleasant to exist. to
breathe, to move, TO talk, to think, to
read. But a pleasure must be attended
to in order to be felt. And, therefore.
1t often happens that pleasures of
which we are in actual possession, and
which we might be enjoying, are prac-
tically lost to us because our atten-
ton is all fixed on other pleasures OF
which we are not in possession, and of
which, therefore. we only feel the alb
sence. We are like the dog who drop
ped the large piece of meet in order to
seize upon its shadow which seemed
larger Happiness so Gifted lies so close
to our feet that we overlook II and
discern its existence only when it has
vanished and cannot be recalled. There
is scarcely a faculty more worthy Of
being cultivated. and there is no facul-
~ SO much neglected by most of US.
as the faculty for enjoyment, the facul-
ulty for securing and making the most
OF the pleasures which are actually
ours. There is another reason why we
are much less happy. and there for
much less contented. than we might
be. 1t is this. We have not learnt to
take enough pleasure in the pleasure
OF other people. I would insist upon the
importance of rultivating the faculty Of
enjoyment with a view to making the
most of our own pleasures, but would
also urge its cultivation with view
to making the most of the plea sures of
others. THE heart" says a japanese
proVerb, makes the world" What We
md the world will depend very much
on what the world finds Us. Learning
to live in the lives of others is one of
the surest means towards living a hap
ny life of our own. But there Is
another side 10 the question. Though
it is very undesira BILE to fret and
grumble over circumstances that can
not be changed yet it is most desirabl..
IN as far as our condition is capable of
belng improved, that we should be
sufficiently disconnected with it to eff
rect this Improvement. The morbid dis
content enervates and paralyses; the
heaIthy discomfort stimulates and en-.
courages. Instead lamenting that our
circumstances are not made better Cor
us by accident, or by Providence, We
should set about endcavoring to make
them better for ourselves. For one and
al of us that amount of discomfort is
more nor less-which
VIII inrifH us, nay, compel Us. to make
continual progress, physical, mental
moral, spiritual
From we'll to better, daily self-sur-
past"
nave not Transcribed all the ser.
mon here but only those portions of ii
that the woman understood and car
ried away with her.
She felt her heart sink when the
preacher disappeared from view, and
sat stu long after the pew was empty,
thinking of his words.
Presently logged by an usher. she
wandered OUT, and formed one of the
struggling stream that wandered
through the rooms. looking al the rare
pictures, and pausing before the glass
case lifted with curious trinkets and
odds and ends that had many years
ago been fastened to the children by
the mothers who abandoned them.
One article fixed her attention. II
was plated label, on which was in
scribed ale" A grim look overspread
the Woman's face as she gazed at it.
That should have been fastened to
him if he's going to take after his
father she muttered, below her
breath. Presently, she found herself.
among others, fling past the boys as
they sat at dinner, and she moved
slowly. looking keenly at each one as
she passed, and at those on the oppo-
site side of the table, but in not one
could she trace a resemblance to the
baby of less than twelve months old
that she had brought her seven wears
ago; and more thar voluntarily relin
pushed on the distinct understanding
that she never attempted to see him
again
Her hair had been black then, 1t was
white now; her heart had been cold
then, but it was colder now: SO cold
that 1t felt as if nothing within or
without could ever warm it.
And when at last she moved away.
not sorry. not disappointed, for she
scarcely knew what she had come here