The comet. (Johnson City, Tenn.) 1884-1916, 1898-05-05

anguish and the bitterness of soul
isolated and alone, cut off from all that
is beautiful. OF his own accord he has
crushed all the sweetness and beauty
from his life; he settles down into
hard sneering atheist, cruel, bitter and
miserable as man can ever be. And
why has he done this? For pleasures
sake? God knows, there are too many
tears in pessimism for pleasure. An
immortal bard has said that tears are as
sweet as laughter to some natures, but
not the miserable, hopeless tears Of
pessimism. The innocent tears of Joy
are as happy laughter. We can never
see little child at play, all uncon-
scious of our presence and full of hap
piness, and not feel a sudden rush OF
tears. 1ears for something past and
gone forever. or for remembrance of
the time when we made mud pies and
dangled headless dolls upside down,
with entire absence of decorum.
And the optimist, what of him, this
laughter-fraught, cheering being, born
in sunshine and stepped in Joy? Why
is it that he meets calamities that would
crush an ordinary model, with the Sc
rene smile and light heart that is part
of him? 1t is because he looks-always
upon the bright side of life. If an OPP
timist breaks his arm, he thanks God it
wasn't his neck; if he breaks his neck
he is thankful nothing worse happened,
for to his mind there is nothing that
has not worse aspect attached to it.
The optimist is never sad; the loss of
his nearest and dearest is but an occas-
ion for him to say, "Thy will, net
mine" And with sunshine in his eyes
and happiness in his heart he goes on
his gladstone way, allowing nothing to
daunt or sadden him. And it is not
that he takes nothing seriously, either.
He sees the trace of Hand divine in
everything; there is hidden depth in
all things, from the tiny fern in the
valleys heart to the light of the largest
star. When he looks out over life he
sees sunny plains, happy lovers stroll
ing down the old-time Leisurely Lane
with the jar and hustle of the great
world afar off and their fond hearts
throbbing in unison; he sees laughing
lips and joyous eyes; there are seas of
perfect calm, and white sailed ships in
the distance, laden with cargos of no.
BILE hearts; the sunlight glints with
golden CLEAN over fair hair and radiant
faces; there are gentle zephyrs and
whispering southwinds; there are hap
py firesides where father and mother
are surrounded by their strong, noble
children; there are death-beds, to be
sRre, but so full of hope and Joy and
peace that we gaze enthralled upon
them
All, happy, light-hearted being, SO
strong in your simple happiness and
belief in the goodness of humanity, I
would there were more men like youl
Life would not be such struggle for
us all, then. But there is sorrow il
life and although you see it, you only
thank God that it is NO worse, while
we, less gifted, can only rebel and suf-
fer. And no man likes to suffer.
It makes it all the harder for us to
know that we can not escape our herit-
age of life, be it ever so hard.
1t requires bravery to face the world
with strong heart and fearless voice.
It takes bravery to say "Thy will, dear
Father, not mine. If must suffer, sc
be it." But we are not brave; we are
very weak and cowardly. But we are
human; He who created us did MOI
make us saints. And He knows.
We can not all face life with the sub
lime triumph of the optimist, but WI
need never be pessimistic. To be Gu
eff from all that renders life enjoyable
to never know the meaning of life il
its fullest sense; to be oil desolate ant
, love-lorn throughout lonely life; t,
, die in the silence and the bitterness o
despair that IS the pessimist's lot.
, Sorrow is inevitable, let us meet j
as we should with trae bravery.
: loving father chasteneth whom Fl
loveth, to test their faith. He wi
lay no burdens upon US that are to
> heavy to be borne. He will help us t
stand alone on life's tempestous sea
to look out upon it with brave, true
honest eyes that fear not the dash an
the cry of the great breakers Of Sin an
a Pain and Sorrow.
= We shall never know the meaning {
9 life until, like the Pied Piper of Hamt
. lin town and the little children at play
our souls are wiled out of our bodiC
,. by the dfeam-like melody of mighti'
Player. There we, too, like the lit
4 children, shall cast our playthings asiC
and follow. Loving hands will |
"a thrown out to stay us; tender voice
= will call to us but we shall not lie
!. hestrange wild strains of master-mel
dy will be ringing in oar hearts and v
a shall know the meaning of life by the
ID For We shall know, in time, the mea,
q, ing of it all-this pulsating, throbbil
!. thing we call life and these dim EN-
II tiens we can not understand, that fl
- the heart aud brain as with living Fl
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