The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1910-06-02
The Lesson of Nature.


Yesterday, the skies were very
cold and gray and sullen, blanket
which securely bound the blue of the
heavens and the gold of the sun
light in its depths and allowed no ray
of brightness to escape it and the
rains descended, after a time, in
floods upon floods until all the earth
resembled a never-ending chain of
darting rivulets and miniature swirl
ing whirlpools gurgling in their
throats as if Mother Nature were
strangled in the effort. to keep her
head above water Nothing escaped
the merciless torrents, not a tiny
leaf or a slip of flower and it SEEM
ed as if the rains would never cease,
as if the clouds would never lift and
the sun never shine forth again until
all the earth were dissolved into a
sea of raging waters but, little by lit
tie. the dull cold blanket was roll
ed away and folded and packed into
a nook below the horizon and, 10,
the skies were serene and the daz-
zling suns rays broke their imprison-
ment with the rapidity of lightning
flashes save that they fingered long
in the hills and valleys, flooding the
earth with light which was reflected
by millions of clear diamonds fash
ing from every bough and branch and
leaf and blade. And the beauties OF
the spring landscape before the rains
were as nothing compared with the
loneliness that now bathed the world.
So in life, whose lessons Nature
teaches in tireless repetition, if we
would but heed her, there are days
and weeks and years, perhaps, when
the gray cloud of doubt and fear
hides within it's depths the hope and
bappines sand sunlight in which we
would battle our souls and the rains
of disappointment and discourage
ment and error descend and drench
the strongest spirit to the point of
succumbing to the merciless torrents
until it seems that the sun is never
to shine forth upon one again or
serene skies enwrap ones future and
that the floods threaten ones very
life's breath and will be satisfied with
nothing less. But, the clouds lift, the
sullen gray blanket is rolled away and
through tiny riffs, ever widening,
the sun shines forth in tripled bril-
liancy until all the valleys and noun
tains of our souls are bathed and
refreshed and strengthened.
1t is the floods which bring out
the green of the trees, the velvet of
the meadows. 1t is sorrow that brings
out the depth of the soul and the
charm of the spirit There is no other
way to test the worth of human ma
ture than to visit it with sorrow and
enwrap it with dire troubles Even
though the cold of the winds and the
Chill of the rains sets our very hearts
quivering and trembling, we would
not have sunshine always lest the
soul shrivel and become dry and use
less and ugly just as the leaf of the
tree and the grass of the meadow
withers and dies in time of long eX-
tended drouth.
Does not someone tell us that it is
only by the path of sorrow that one
may hope to reach the land where
there is no sorrow?
So it is with the rains and the
floods.
The Best Cure"
The civilized world is dotted with
cures" of innumerable kinds-places
where the human animal, beset with
in by evils of his own admitting and
fostering, seeks health again through
eating or drinking something or other
or failing to eat or drink something
or other. And vast good these cures
do. Yet there is almost nothing at any
of them which one could not get as
well at his own home The point is
as Instantly appears to those who
study any one of them unmoved by
the hocuspocus of the high priests
and miracle workers in attendance
that so weak are the most of us where
our own traitorous appetites are con-
cerned that We cannot prevail against
them except by submitting ourselves
blindly to some plausible supersti-
ton We laugh at the peoples of an
tiquity who sent costly expeditions
long and weary journeys to consult
oracles. But how the ancient follies
of humanity do persist in even the
most intelligent of us! The world
may some day be ordered by common
sense and plain reason. But not yet
Elk.