The Republican journal., 1913-03-13
A DAY DREAM.

Plautus says: Mature is to the mind
what Heaven is to the SOUL" l am not
claiming Plautus as a relative or friend,
when make this quotation. When my
eyes first fell upon the words, which
seemed a concentrated essence Of all the
efforts of all the poets through all the
ages to express what the love of nature
is to the human mind, consulted an
encyclopedia to find out about Plautus,
feeling some chagrn that SO bright
man had lived and died without my
knowledge. The book said Plautus was
the greatest of the comic Roman poets;
considerably before my time and l felt
consoled, for probably there are some of
my contemporaries who may be little
hazy about Plautus. The encyclopedia
said further that of the twenty one
comedies of Plautus, twenty are still ex-
tant and are scarcely less popular among
the moderns than they were during his
own lifetime. | am glad that the works
of the man who said Mature is to the
mind what Heaven is to the SOUP are
still popular. Plautus deserved popular
ity and undying fame. If it is never
my good fortune to become better ac-
quainted with the works of this popular
writer of comedies, this one quotation
establishes him as my favorite author;
when asked which is my most beloved
poet | shall from now on, and always,
answer unhesitatingly, "Plautus."
Mature is to the mind what Heaven
as to the soul" Out from the jangle of
everyday life, all in moment, without
conscious will or effort, l steal away to a
land of enchantment. Peace is there,
and it is the same peace that 1000 years
ago inspired Plautus. 1t is the peace
that reaches out for one and enfolds one
as the arms of mother enfolds the
tired child, who leaves his play and steals
to her side for comfort and rest 1t is
land where the green grass grows
softly down to the edges of winding
brook. The brook steals away through
the distant trees and loses itself in the
shadows of the woods flowers grow
upon its banks; cardinal flowers, among
Tnvriads of delicate white blossoms rise
above the shallow waters; reeds and tall
grasses wave in the breeze; birds sing,
and honey bees drone drowsily, passing
from flower to flower; butterfly hutters
over a bush above my head, garnet
wings edged with gold; a dragon fly darts
IN and out among the reeds and grasses;
a cowbells tinkle, tinkle, t;nkle, sounds
softly from the neighboring pasture; a
graceful elm tree stands with dropping
branches, its leaves outlined against the
blue of summer sky. 1.-THE Lord is
my shepherd, | shall not want, He Max
eth me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul, He leadeth me in
the paths OF righteousness for his name
sake" From the peace of such scene
as have described grew the Psalmist's
sweetest song-the song that has COM
Torted human hearts through all the
centuries, and that will go on comforting
them while human hearts exist. tSure-
~ goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life, and l shall dwell
IN the house of the Lord forever" The
words follow as naturally in the wake of
my day dream, as the ripple of waves
follows in the wake of the vessel It sea.
Mature is to the mind, what Heaven
is to the SOUL Men strive, and tell and
Jostie each other; they forget the blue
sky the green fields, the birds song, the
ripple of brooks and the fragrance of
flowers. The weak fall and are ram
pied under the feet of the strong; again
ana again Cam asks, Am my brothers.
keeper?' But sometime, somewhere.
there comes to all mer a leetirg day
dream. 1t takes them unawares If
comes unbidden, it maybe, into the very
midst of the mad, wild struggle for riches
and power. In such a day dream thew
see land Of enchantment; land of
great, breeze-swept spaces and vast
sliences. They find themselves face to
lace there, with their own souls; with
heads reVerently bowed, they stand
abashed before the best that is in them
and hear again the ''stil small voice.
fnat has long been stihed and silenced.
oometlmes they heed-but often they
forget. R r Npwr,,