Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1906-10-18


blackened by one dark cloud. The sun
for them would send forth never.
ceasing radiance. "Oh, why should we
have the rainT' they cry. why do
the December winds come to make our
teeth chatter and our blood to freeze?
Why do we have the spring freshets
wash out our roads and sweep away
our country bridges? Why all this dis
order and confusion in the natural
drizzling fog or be truly happy when
he has to hug Il fire in n house which
has to he Theoretically sealed to keep
out the winters biting blasts" Thus
we hear the weather pessimists COM
plain when the country roads are i'm
passable with snowdrfts, and the Ice
has to be broken in the drinking
troughs, and the twinklng stars are
snulfed out by the black robes of
shreking tornado, and mdnoon by an
eclipse of the sun is changed into the
darkness of midnight.
BAD Weather a Blessing.
Put in the light of my text, are not
atmospheric disorders blessing? Are
not the frosts and the raindrops and
the soft white quilts of snow flung over
our lawns and the spring freshets bene-
factors instead Of curses? I enter the
silent American forests in January.
There I find everything lifeless and
still. Here and there I may see the
track of doe or wild rabbit. There
I hnor In Iirra
chattering and scolding at me. But for
the most part the paths of the woods
are deserted and everything is still.
go up TO one Of the grand old trees
and pat its sides and alphabetically
say: Poor fellow. How cold you must
be. low you must long again to be
dressed in your beautiful robes Of
green. How bitter you must feel at
these billiards. which chill you and
stop your sap from flowing. as they
are now trying to CONCEAL my blood by
freezing it in my veins" But. much
to my surprise, the old oak is not salts
fed with my sympathy. mo, no,
man. it answers sharply. THE frost
is not my enemy, but my friend. 1t
white arms about me and says: Tree,
I want thee to live hundred years.
/ want thee to grow thousands upon
thousands of leaves But In order to
do this I must husband thy strength.
| must give thee an annual rest.
must enrich the soil where thy roots
are buried. Trust me. Believe me. I
g,.;. g.. I, 7 H..
snowbanks about thy trunk the richer
the food thou shalt have to live upon
when the warm summer sun comes
back from It's journey on the other side
of the equator and kisses thy cheeks
The frost is my friend and not my enc
my" When the tree speaks thus, in
stead Of condemning winter blizzard
l thank God for the winters cold as
well as the summers heat.
The Necessity of Rain.
turn from the forests and enter the
valleys. There l find the corn and the
wheat and the vegetables growing ev-
erywhere. 1t is now July instead OF
January. I have foolshly gone on,
without my heavy boots and mackin
tosh Ny wife warned me that it might
rain when | started out, but l needed
not her advice. The dark clouds were
even then gathering. Suddenly there
sounds Inutterng of thunder. Their
the liShtnings fash and a tree is shat
tered by my side. Then comes the rair
falling in Il perfect deluge. The rair
does not matter much to me, because
know that if l walk briskly and keeI
my blood in circulation l shall not
catch cold. But the poor flowers Tho
poor grain. The poor corn. They seen
to be almost human. They seem tc
hang their heads as though they do no
want the water to spatter into theil
faces. Poor things, poor things
/ say But almost instantly mighty
chorus of protest sounds from the
fields. I'VE are not poor things they
answer. I'VE are parched, and Goc
has sent us this rain to quench oul
thirst. We are filthy, and God has sen
us this shower bath to cleanse us. We
would die of hunger, but God, by thi.
rain. has swelled the brooks until they
come leaping down the mountain side:
to irrigate the valleys that our fooC
may be moistened so that our roots cal
suck it up. God has sent US this atmos
phcric disorder that we may grow
strong and feed hungry world. Thu
rain is just as essential to our lives a
the sunbeam" Wonderful and true an
sWer that When | tramped home
did not find fault with my wet gar
ments. | knew that the rain. as trul,
as the sunshine, was sent as a messcn
ger of divine love. Where no oXel
are, the crib is clean, but much in
crease is by the strength Of the OK.
Do you not grasp the sublime. proverl
as applied to the physical or natura
life?
But we can have "a stagnating cos
mos" in our mental life as well as IL
our physical or lower entities. Thu
man who physically basks under tn
summer sun, who never wishes to d
any manual labor, who always sit
down in preference to standing up ani
rides instead of walks; the man wh'
never takes any more active eXercis
than walking upstairs to his bed an,
who never feels the eXhlaration.o
pedestrian expanding his chest agans
the heating winds, either becomes
physical degenerate or is foolishly sign
ing his own death warrant. On tn
hand tho man u,ho si p,yIv How