The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1911-12-30
ON THE WINTER EVENINGS

YIN lie WlNlEN EVENlN0O
WHAT are you going to do with these
long, these gloriously long, winter even
tngs, when the biting cold and boisterous
winds emphasize the comfort Of home
and make one count warmth and light
amongst the very choicest blessings of
life? What are you going to do with
these evenings, If q mean) you are
country man and have thereby the bless
ed privilege of doing what you please
with them. If your lot is less happily
cast, the choice is not altogether yours.
You are under obligation to loaf and play
bridge and patroni e the theatre or NOV
ing pictures, and in a variety of other
ways pay your proper dues to the social
contract. The evenings are not yours.
You have bartered them for-shall we
say for mess of pottage"? Perhaps it
were as well NOT to say just that, lest
difference Of opinion interrupt our
pleasant chat on a fruitful subject-on
the expenditure of time. Time is
money" Yes, and more, a good deal
more than money. Time will bring you
a good. deal more than money will. You
can get better returns from a wise in
vestment of glorious winter evenings
than you can from the investment of
gold dollars. Life is more than things.
What you ARE is of more Importance
than what you HAVE-of more import
ance to yourself, to your present per-
sonal happiness, to your everlasting en-
joyment. What a man builds into HIM
SELF is more and better than what he
builds onto his house or barn. That is
why | am talking about these long, these
gloriously long, winter evenings. They
give us country folk such chance for
life. They are such splendid gifts of
time. Kill time" Oh, you bloody
minded murderer! Kill time, why that
is killing yourself. You may leave
enough of your animal existence to count
for SO many pounds avolrdupois in the
weight of the universe. But YOU, YOU
YOURSELF, all that is best, enduring,
worth while; in killing time" you are
deliberately, unpardonably KILLING that
YOU are. EVERYBODY is not EVERY
BODY has not a chance and the Infinite
Pity knows it. But YOU have. Time,
opportunity, and a fortiori responsible
ity, are yours. These winter evenings
acclaim it. Great segments of invalu-
able time are offered you for self-im-
with these evenings? Sleep? Well, a
man cant very well sleep from dark to
daylight in mid winter. The Almighty
may as well turn him into a caterpillar
and be done with it. Just because you
are shut up" in the house you are I'M
der no compulsion 10 go into your shell.
You oughtn't to have any she'll. Let the
house shelter your body, but your "un-
confined SOUL should visit from pole to
pole and hold happy companionship with
mep u all ages. Why should you cher
ish murderous spirit toward these pre-
cious evenings, why should you want to
kill time Time has done nothing to
deserve such cruel treatment. Rather is
1t your friend and benefactor, coming to
your door with it's two-hands full of
priceless gifts, bringing the treasures of
the world to your service and enjoyment,
cheering your fire-side with the pleas
ATTEST and most profitable visitors night
after night, making the world new and
rich and wonderful, where hitherto it
was fiat, slate and Improbable. "Pshaw,
you mean books" Yes my scornful
friend, | MEAN BOOKS, and the mere
fact that you HAVE no books for these
winter evenings does not dispose of the
point at all GET EN- Go sell thy
garment and purchase a-book. few
less gew -gaws and furbelows on the per-
son and little more culture of the per-
sonality might not seriously mar ones
admiration of even fair woman, though
we say it at our peril. To the men we say
1t boldly, detiantly. Who's afraid of a
mana mere man? And you, sir, GET
EN-; get books. We have known a man to
60 hungry for the sake of a coveted vol
ume, feeding his soul occasionally at the
cost of his body instead of forever feed
Ing his body at the cost of his soul
Education is matter of determine
tion. With winter evenings and the
worlds wealth on your book shelves, it
Is up to the individual will. If you
dread the winter evenings" 1t is because
you are not living; you are just progress
sively dying. Dread them? Dread them?
Shame on you to say so, or think it in
your heart. Learn a better way. Learn
to wait for and welcome them as your
genial friend your cherished benefactor
your sweet restorer of tired nature
HUMAN nature. Howl, howl we wintry
winds and blow we bitter biting blasts. |
God pity the men that go down to the
sea in ships and them that are unpro-
tected ashore. For the rest-it is a
winter night and Joy forever.