CHEERFULNESS AS A LIFE POWER

BY

ORISON SWETT MARDEN

Author of "Pushing to the Front, " "The Secret ofAchievement, " etc. ; and Editor of "Success. "

Tenth Thousand

New YorkThomas Y. Crowell & CompanyPublishersCopyright, 1899By Orison Swett Marden

A FOREWORD. 

The soul-consuming and friction-wearing tendency of this hurrying, grasping, competing age is the excuse for this booklet. Is it not anabsolute necessity to get rid of all irritants, of everything whichworries and frets, and which brings discord into so many lives?Cheerfulness has a wonderful lubricating power. It lengthens the life ofhuman machinery, as lubricants lengthen the life of inert machinery. Life's delicate bearings should not be carelessly ground away for merelack of oil. What is needed is a habit of cheerfulness, to enjoy everyday as we go along; not to fret and stew all the week, and then expectto make up for it Sunday or on some holiday. It is not a question ofmirth so much as of cheerfulness; not alone that which accompanieslaughter, but serenity, --a calm, sweet soul-contentment and inwardpeace. Are there not multitudes of people who have the "blues, " who yetwish well to their neighbors? They would say kind words and make theworld happier--but they "haven't the time. " To lead them to look on thesunny side of things, and to take a little time every day to speakpleasant words, is the message of the hour. 

 THE AUTHOR. 

In the preparation of these pages, amid the daily demands ofjournalistic work, the author has been assisted by Mr. E. P. Tenney, ofCambridge. 

TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

I. WHAT VANDERBILT PAID FOR TWELVE LAUGHS 7 THE LAUGH CURE 9 A CHEAP MEDICINE 13 WHY DON'T YOU LAUGH? 14

II. THE CURE FOR AMERICANITIS 16 A WORRYING WOMAN 19 OUR HAWAIIAN PARADISE 22 A WEATHER BREEDER 24 "WHAT IS AN OPTIMIST?" 27 LIVING UP THANKSGIVING AVENUE 29

III. OILING YOUR BUSINESS MACHINERY 31 SINGING AT YOUR WORK 33 GOOD HUMOR 35 "LE DIABLE EST MORT" 38

IV. TAKING YOUR FUN EVERY DAY AS YOU DO YOUR WORK 42 UNWORKED JOY MINES 44 THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD 45

V. FINDING WHAT YOU DO NOT SEEK 51 CHARLES LAMB 53 JOHN B. GOUGH 55 PHILLIPS BROOKS 60

VI. "LOOKING PLEASANT"--A THING TO BE WORKED FROM THE INSIDE 64 WORTH FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS 66 THE "DON'T WORRY" SOCIETY 67 A PLEASURE BOOK 69

VII. THE SUNSHINE-MAN 73

CHEERFULNESS AS A LIFE POWER. 

I. WHAT VANDERBILT PAID FOR TWELVE LAUGHS. 

William K. Vanderbilt, when he last visited Constantinople, one dayinvited Coquelin the elder, so celebrated for his powers as a mimic, whohappened to be in the city at the time, to give a private recital onboard his yacht, lying in the Bosphorus. Coquelin spoke three of hismonologues. A few days afterwards Coquelin received the followingmemorandum from the millionaire:--

"You have brought tears to our eyes and laughter to our hearts. Sinceall philosophers are agreed that laughing is preferable to weeping, youraccount with me stands thus:--

 "For tears, six times . . . $600 "For laughter, twelve times . . 2, 400 ------ $3, 000

"Kindly acknowledge receipt of enclosed check. "

"I find nonsense singularly refreshing, " said Talleyrand. There is goodphilosophy in the saying, "Laugh and grow fat. " If everybody knew thepower of laughter as a health tonic and life prolonger the tinge ofsadness which now clouds the American face would largely disappear, andmany physicians would find their occupation gone. 

The power of laughter was given us to serve a wise purpose in oureconomy. It is Nature's device for exercising the internal organs andgiving us pleasure at the same time. 

Laughter begins in the lungs and diaphragm, setting the liver, stomach, and other internal organs into a quick, jelly-like vibration, whichgives a pleasant sensation and exercise, almost equal to that ofhorseback riding. During digestion, the movements of the stomach aresimilar to churning. Every time you take a full breath, or when youcachinnate well, the diaphragm descends and gives the stomach an extrasqueeze and shakes it. Frequent laughing sets the stomach to dancing, hurrying up the digestive process. The heart beats faster, and sends theblood bounding through the body. "There is not, " says Dr. Green, "oneremotest corner or little inlet of the minute blood-vessels of the humanbody that does not feel some wavelet from the convulsions occasioned bya good hearty laugh. " In medical terms, it stimulates the vasomotorcenters, and the spasmodic contraction of the blood-vessels causes theblood to flow quickly. Laughter accelerates the respiration, and giveswarmth and glow to the whole system. It brightens the eye, increases theperspiration, expands the chest, forces the poisoned air from theleast-used lung cells, and tends to restore that exquisite poise orbalance which we call health, which results from the harmonious actionof all the functions of the body. This delicate poise, which may bedestroyed by a sleepless night, a piece of bad news, by grief oranxiety, is often wholly restored by a good hearty laugh. 

There is, therefore, sound sense in the caption, --"Cheerfulness as aLife Power, "--relating as it does to the physical life, as well as themental and moral; and what we may call

 THE LAUGH CURE

is based upon principles recognized as sound by the medicalprofession--so literally true is the Hebrew proverb that "a merry heartdoeth good like a medicine. "

"Mirth is God's medicine, " said Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes; "everybodyought to bathe in it. Grim care, moroseness, anxiety, --all the rust oflife, --ought to be scoured off by the oil of mirth. " Elsewhere he says:"If you are making choice of a physician be sure you get one with acheerful and serene countenance. "

Is not a jolly physician of greater service than his pills? Dr. MarshallHall frequently prescribed "cheerfulness" for his patients, saying thatit is better than anything to be obtained at the apothecary's. 

In Western New York, Dr. Burdick was known as the "Laughing Doctor. " Healways presented the happiest kind of a face; and his good humor wascontagious. He dealt sparingly in drugs, yet was very successful. 

The London "Lancet, " the most eminent medical journal in the world, gives the following scientific testimony to the value of jovialty:--

"This power of 'good spirits' is a matter of high moment to the sick andweakly. To the former, it may mean the ability to survive; to thelatter, the possibility of outliving, or living in spite of, a disease. It is, therefore, of the greatest importance to cultivate the highestand most buoyant frame of mind which the conditions will admit. The sameenergy which takes the form of mental activity is vital to the work ofthe organism. Mental influences affect the system; and a joyous spiritnot only relieves pain, but increases the momentum of life in the body. "

Dr. Ray, superintendent of Butler Hospital for the Insane, says in oneof his reports, "A hearty laugh is more desirable for mental health thanany exercise of the reasoning faculties. "

Grief, anxiety, and fear are great enemies of human life. A depressed, sour, melancholy soul, a life which has ceased to believe in its ownsacredness, its own power, its own mission, a life which sinks intoquerulous egotism or vegetating aimlessness, has become crippled anduseless. We should fight against every influence which tends to depressthe mind, as we would against a temptation to crime. It is undoubtedlytrue that, as a rule, the mind has power to lengthen the period ofyouthful and mature strength and beauty, preserving and renewingphysical life by a stalwart mental health. 

I read the other day of a man in a neighboring city who was given up todie; his relatives were sent for, and they watched at his bedside. Butan old acquaintance, who called to see him, assured him smilingly thathe was all right and would soon be well. He talked in such a strain thatthe sick man was forced to laugh; and the effort so roused his systemthat he rallied, and he was soon well again. 

Was it not Shakespere who said that a light heart lives long?

The San Francisco "Argonaut" says that a woman in Milpites, a victim ofalmost crushing sorrow, despondency, indigestion, insomnia, and kindredills, determined to throw off the gloom which was making life so heavy aburden to her, and established a rule that she would laugh at leastthree times a day, whether occasion was presented or not; so she trainedherself to laugh heartily at the least provocation, and would retire toher room and make merry by herself. She was soon in excellent health andbuoyant spirits; her home became a sunny, cheerful abode. 

It was said, by one who knew this woman well, and who wrote an accountof the case for a popular magazine, that at first her husband andchildren were amused at her, and while they respected her determinationbecause of the griefs she bore, they did not enter into the spirit ofthe plan. "But after awhile, " said this woman to me, with a smile, onlyyesterday, "the funny part of the idea struck my husband, and he beganto laugh every time we spoke of it. And when he came home, he would askme if I had had my 'regular laughs;' and he would laugh when he askedthe question, and again when I answered it. My children, then veryyoung, thought 'mamma's notion very queer, ' but they laughed at it justthe same. Gradually, my children told other children, and they toldtheir parents. My husband spoke of it to our friends, and I rarely metone of them but he or she would laugh and ask me, 'How many of yourlaughs have you had to-day?' Naturally, they laughed when they asked, and of course that set me laughing. When I formed this apparentlystrange habit I was weighed down with sorrow, and my rule simply liftedme out of it. I had suffered the most acute indigestion; for years Ihave not known what it is. Headaches were a daily dread; for over sixyears I have not had a single pain in the head. My home seems differentto me, and I feel a thousand times more interest in its work. My husbandis a changed man. My children are called 'the girls who are alwayslaughing, ' and, altogether, my rule has proved an inspiration which hasworked wonders. "

The queen of fashion, however, says that we must never laugh out loud;but since the same tyrannical mistress kills people by corsets, indulgesin cosmetics, and is out all night at dancing parties, and in Chinapinches up the women's feet, I place much less confidence in her viewsupon the laugh cure for human woes. Yet in all civilized countries it isa fundamental principle of refined manners not to be ill-timed andunreasonably noisy and boisterous in mirth. One who is wise will neverviolate the proprieties of well-bred people. 

"Yet, " says a wholesome writer upon health, "we should do something morethan to simply cultivate a cheerful, hopeful spirit, --we shouldcultivate a spirit of mirthfulness that is not only easily pleased andsmiling, but that indulges in hearty, hilarious laughter; and if thisfaculty is not well marked in our organization we should cultivate it, being well assured that hearty, body-shaking laughter will do us good. "

Ordinary good looks depend on one's sense of humor, --"a merry heartmaketh a cheerful countenance. " Joyfulness keeps the heart and faceyoung. A good laugh makes us better friends with ourselves and everybodyaround us, and puts us into closer touch with what is best and brightestin our lot in life. 

Physiology tells the story. The great sympathetic nerves are closelyallied; and when one set carries bad news to the head, the nervesreaching the stomach are affected, indigestion comes on, and one'scountenance becomes doleful. Laugh when you can; it is

 A CHEAP MEDICINE. 

Merriment is a philosophy not well understood. The eminent surgeonChavasse says that we ought to begin with the babies and train childrento habits of mirth:--

"Encourage your child to be merry and laugh aloud; a good hearty laughexpands the chest and makes the blood bound merrily along. Commend me toa good laugh, --not to a little snickering laugh, but to one that willsound right through the house. It will not only do your child good, butwill be a benefit to all who hear, and be an important means of drivingthe blues away from a dwelling. Merriment is very catching, and spreadsin a remarkable manner, few being able to resist its contagion. A heartylaugh is delightful harmony; indeed, it is the best of all music. ""Children without hilarity, " says an eminent author, "will never amountto much. Trees without blossoms will never bear fruit. "

Hufeland, physician to the King of Prussia, commends the ancient customof jesters at the king's table, whose quips and cranks would keep thecompany in a roar. 

Did not Lycurgus set up the god of laughter in the Spartan eating-halls?There is no table sauce like laughter at meals. It is the great enemy ofdyspepsia. 

How wise are the words of the acute Chamfort, that the most completelylost of all days is the one in which we have not laughed!

"A crown, for making the king laugh, " was one of the items of expensewhich the historian Hume found in a manuscript of King Edward II. 

"It is a good thing to laugh, at any rate, " said Dryden, the poet, "andif a straw can tickle a man, it is an instrument of happiness. "

"I live, " said Laurence Sterne, one of the greatest of Englishhumorists, "in a constant endeavor to fence against the infirmities ofill health and other evils by mirth; I am persuaded that, every time aman smiles, --but much more so when he laughs, --it adds something to hisfragment of life. "

"Give me an honest laugher, " said Sir Walter Scott, and he was himselfone of the happiest men in the world, with a kind word and pleasantsmile for every one, and everybody loved him. 

"How much lies in laughter!" exclaimed the critic Carlyle. "It is thecipher-key wherewith we decipher the whole man. Some men wear aneverlasting barren simper; in the smile of others lies the cold glitter, as of ice; the fewest are able to laugh what can be called laughing, butonly sniff and titter and snicker from the throat outward, or at leastproduce some whiffing, husky cachinnation, as if they were laughingthrough wool. Of none such comes good. "

"The power to laugh, to cease work and begin to frolic and make merry inforgetfulness of all the conflict of life, " says Campbell Morgan, "is adivine bestowment upon man. "

Happy, then, is the man, who may well laugh to himself over his goodluck, who can answer the old question, "How old are you?" by Sambo'sreply:--

"If you reckon by the years, sah, I'se twenty-five; but if you goes bythe fun I's 'ad, I guess I's a hundred. "

 WHY DON'T YOU LAUGH?

 _From the "Independent"_

 "Why don't you laugh, young man, when troubles come, Instead of sitting 'round so sour and glum? You cannot have all play, And sunshine every day; When troubles come, I say, why don't you laugh?

 "Why don't you laugh? 'T will ever help to soothe The aches and pains. No road in life is smooth; There's many an unseen bump, And many a hidden stump O'er which you'll have to jump. Why don't you laugh?

 "Why don't you laugh? Don't let your spirits wilt; Don't sit and cry because the milk you've spilt; If you would mend it now, Pray let me tell you how: Just milk another cow! Why don't you laugh?

 "Why don't you laugh, and make us all laugh, too, And keep us mortals all from getting blue? A laugh will always win; If you can't laugh, just grin, -- Come on, let's all join in! Why don't you laugh?"

II. THE CURE FOR AMERICANITIS. 

Prince Wolkonsky, during a visit to this country, declared that"Business is the alpha and omega of American life. There is no pleasure, no joy, no satisfaction. There is no standard except that of profit. There is no other country where they speak of a man as worth so manydollars. In other countries they live to enjoy life; here they exist forbusiness. " A Boston merchant corroborated this statement by saying hewas anxious all day about making money, and worried all night for fearhe should lose what he had made. 

"In the United States, " a distinguished traveler once said, "there iseverywhere comfort, but no joy. The ambition of getting more andfretting over what is lost absorb life. "

"Every man we meet looks as if he'd gone out to borrow trouble, withplenty of it on hand, " said a French lady, upon arriving in New York. 

"The Americans are the best-fed, the best-clad, and the best-housedpeople in the world, " says another witness, "but they are the mostanxious; they hug possible calamity to their breasts. "

"I question if care and doubt ever wrote their names so legibly on thefaces of any other population, " says Emerson; "old age begins in thenursery. "

How quickly we Americans exhaust life! With what panting haste we pursueeverything! Every man you meet seems to be late for an appointment. Hurry is stamped in the wrinkles of the national face. We are men ofaction; we go faster and faster as the years go by, speeding ourmachinery to the utmost. Bent forms, prematurely gray hair, restlessnessand discontent, are characteristic of our age and people. We earn ourbread, but cannot digest it; and our over-stimulated nerves soon becomeirritated, and touchiness follows, --so fatal to a business man, and soannoying in society. 

"It is not work that kills men, " says Beecher; "it is worry. Work ishealthy; you can hardly put more on a man than he can bear. But worry isrust upon the blade. It is not movement that destroys the machinery, butfriction. "

It is not so much the great sorrows, the great burdens, the greathardships, the great calamities, that cloud over the sunshine of life, as the little petty vexations, insignificant anxieties and fear, thelittle daily dyings, which render our lives unhappy, and destroy ourmental elasticity, without advancing our life-work one inch. "Anxietynever yet bridged any chasm. "

"What, " asks Dr. George W. Jacoby, in an "Evening Post" interview, "isthe ultimate physical effect of worry? Why, the same as that of a fatalbullet-wound or sword-thrust. Worry kills as surely, though not soquickly, as ever gun or dagger did, and more people have died in thelast century from sheer worry than have been killed in battle. "

Dr. Jacoby is one of the foremost of American brain doctors. "Theinvestigations of the neurologists, " he says, "have laid bare no secretof Nature in recent years more startling and interesting than thediscovery that worry kills. " This is the final, up-to-date word. "Notonly is it known, " resumes the great neurologist, counting off hiswords, as it were, on his finger-tips, "that worry kills, but the mostminute details of its murderous methods are familiar to modernscientists. It is a common belief of those who have made a special studyof the science of brain diseases that hundreds of deaths attributed toother causes each year are due simply to worry. In plain, untechnicallanguage, worry works its irreparable injury through certain cells ofthe brain life. The insidious inroads upon the system can be bestlikened to the constant falling of drops of water in one spot. In thebrain it is the insistent, never-lost idea, the single, constantthought, centered upon one subject, which in the course of time destroysthe brain cells. The healthy brain can cope with occasional worry; it isthe iteration and reiteration of disquieting thoughts which the cells ofthe brain cannot successfully combat. 

"The mechanical effect of worry is much the same as if the skull werelaid bare and the brain exposed to the action of a little hammer beatingcontinually upon it day after day, until the membranes are disintegratedand the normal functions disabled. The maddening thought that will notbe downed, the haunting, ever-present idea that is not or cannot bebanished by a supreme effort of the will, is the theoretical hammerwhich diminishes the vitality of the sensitive nerve organisms, theminuteness of which makes them visible to the eye only under a powerfulmicroscope. The 'worry, ' the thought, the single idea grows upon one astime goes on, until the worry victim cannot throw it off. Through this, one set or area of cells is affected. The cells are intimatelyconnected, joined together by little fibres, and they in turn are inclose relationship with the cells of the other parts of the brain. 

"Worry is itself a species of monomania. No mental attitude is moredisastrous to personal achievement, personal happiness, and personalusefulness in the world, than worry and its twin brother, despondency. The remedy for the evil lies in training the will to cast off cares andseek a change of occupation, when the first warning is sounded by Naturein intellectual lassitude. Relaxation is the certain foe of worry, and'don't fret' one of the healthiest of maxims. "

In a life of constant worrying, we are as much behind the times as if wewere to go back to use the first steam engines that wasted ninety percent. Of the energy of the coal, instead of having an electric dynamothat utilizes ninety per cent. Of the power. Some people waste a largepercentage of their energy in fretting and stewing, in useless anxiety, in scolding, in complaining about the weather and the perversity ofinanimate things. Others convert nearly all of their energy into powerand moral sunshine. He who has learned the true art of living will notwaste his energies in friction, which accomplishes nothing, but merelygrinds out the machinery of life. 

It must be relegated to the debating societies to determine which is theworse--A Nervous Man or

 A WORRYING WOMAN. 

"I'm awfully worried this morning, " said one woman. "What is it?" "Why, I thought of something to worry about last night, and now I can'tremember it. "

A famous actress once said: "Worry is the foe of all beauty. " She mighthave added: "It is the foe to all health. "

"It seems so heartless in me, if I do not worry about my children, " saidone mother. 

Women nurse their troubles, as they do their babies. "Troubles growlarger, " said Lady Holland, "by nursing. "

The White Knight who carried about a mousetrap, lest he be troubled withmice upon his journeys, was not unlike those who anticipate theirburdens. 

"He grieves, " says Seneca, "more than is necessary, who grieves beforeit is necessary. "

"My children, " said a dying man, "during my long life I have had a greatmany troubles, most of which never happened. " A prominent business manin Philadelphia said that his father worried for twenty-five years overan anticipated misfortune which never arrived. 

We try to grasp too much of life at once; since we think of it as awhole, instead of living one day at a time. Life is a mosaic, and eachtiny piece must be cut and set with skill, first one piece, thenanother. 

A clock would be of no use as a time-keeper if it should becomediscouraged and come to a standstill by calculating its work a yearahead, as the clock did in Jane Taylor's fable. It is not the troublesof to-day, but those of to-morrow and next week and next year, thatwhiten our heads, wrinkle our faces, and bring us to a standstill. 

"There is such a thing, " said Uncle Eben, "as too much foresight. Peopleget to figuring what might happen year after next, and let the fire goout and catch their death of cold, right where they are. "

Nervous prostration is seldom the result of present trouble or work, butof work and trouble anticipated. Mental exhaustion comes to those wholook ahead, and climb mountains before reaching them. Resolutely build awall about to-day, and live within the inclosure. The past may have beenhard, sad, or wrong, --but it is over. 

Why not take a turn about? Instead of worrying over unforeseenmisfortune, set out with all your soul to rejoice in the unforeseenblessings of all your coming days. "I find the gayest castles in the airthat were ever piled, " says Emerson, "far better for comfort and for usethan the dungeons in the air that are daily dug and caverned out bygrumbling, discontented people. "

What is this world but as you take it? Thackeray calls the world alooking-glass that gives back the reflection of one's own face. "Frownat it, and it will look sourly upon you; laugh at it, and it is a jollycompanion. "

"There is no use in talking, " said a woman. "Every time I move, I vowI'll never move again. Such neighbors as I get in with! Seems as thoughthey grow worse and worse. " "Indeed?" replied her caller; "perhaps youtake the worst neighbor with you when you move. "

"In the sudden thunder-storm of Independence Day, " says a newscorrespondent, "we were struck by the contrast between two women, eachof whom had had some trying experience with the weather. One camethrough the rain and hail to take refuge at the railway station, underthe swaying and uncertain shelter of an escorting man's umbrella. Herskirts were soaked to the knees, her pink ribbons were limp, the purpleof the flowers on her hat ran in streaks down the white silk. And yet, though she was a poor girl and her holiday finery must have beenrelatively costly, she made the best of it with a smile and cheerfulwords. The other was well sheltered; but she took the disappointment ofher hopes and the possibility of a little spattering from a leaky windowwith frowns and fault-finding. "

 "Cries little Miss Fret, In a very great pet: 'I hate this warm weather; it's horrid to tan! It scorches my nose, And it blisters my toes, And wherever I go I must carry a fan. '

 "Chirps little Miss Laugh: 'Why, I couldn't tell half The fun I am having this bright summer day! I sing through the hours, I cull pretty flowers, And ride like a queen on the sweet-smelling hay. '"

Happily a new era has of late opened for our worried housekeepers, whospend their time in "the half-frantic dusting of corners, spasmodicsweeping, impatient snatching or pushing aside obstacles in the room, hurrying and skurrying upstairs and down cellar. " "It is not, " saysPrentice Mulford, "the work that exhausts them, --it is the mentalcondition they are in that makes so many old and haggard at forty. " Allthat is needful now to ease up their burdens is to go to

 OUR HAWAIIAN PARADISE. 

A newspaper correspondent, Annie Laurie, has told us all about the newkind of American girls just added to our country:--

"They are as straight as an arrow, and walk as queens walk in fairystories; they have great braids of sleek, black hair, soft brown eyes, and gleaming white teeth; they can swim and ride and sing; and they arebrown with a skin that shines like bronze . .. There isn't a worriedwoman in Hawaii. The women there can't worry. They don't know how. Theyeat and sing and laugh, and see the sun and the moon set, and possesstheir souls in smiling peace. 

"If a Hawaii woman has a good dinner, she laughs and invites her friendsto eat it with her; if she hasn't a good dinner, she laughs and goes tosleep, --and forgets to be hungry. She doesn't have to worry about whatthe people in the downstairs flat will think if they don't see thebutcher's boy arrive on time. If she can earn the money, she buys anice, new, glorified Mother Hubbard; and, if she can't get it, shethrows the old one into the surf and washes it out, puts a new wreath offresh flowers in her hair, and starts out to enjoy the morning and thebreezes thereof. 

"They are not earnest workers; they haven't the slightest idea that theywere put upon earth to reform the universe, --they're just happy. Theyrun across great stretches of clear, white sand, washed with resplendentpurple waves, and, when the little brown babies roll in the surf, theirbrown mothers run after them, laughing and splashing like a lot ofchildren. Or, perhaps we see them in gay cavalcades mounted upongarlanded ponies, adorned by white jasmine wreaths with roses and pinks. And here in this paradise of laughter and light hearts and gentle music, there's absolutely nothing to do but to care for the children and oldpeople and to swim or ride. You couldn't start a 'reform circle' to saveyour life; there isn't a jail in the place, nor a tenement quarter, andthere are no outdoor poor. There isn't a woman's club in Honolulu, --nota club. There was a culture circle once for a few days; a Boston womanwho went there for her health organized it, but it interfered withafternoon nap-time, so nobody came. "

When, hereafter, we talk about worrying women, we must take intoaccount our Hawaiian sisters, if we will average up the amount of worry_per capita_, in our nation. 

 A WEATHER BREEDER. 

It is probably quite within bounds to say that one out of three of ourAmerican farming population, women and men, never enjoy a beautiful daywithout first reminding you that "It is one of those infernal weatherbreeders. "

Habitual fretters see more trouble than others. They are never so wellas their neighbors. The weather never suits them. The climate is trying. The winds are too high or too low; it is too hot or too cold, too dampor too dry. The roads are either muddy or dusty. 

"I met Mr. N. One wet morning, " says Dr. John Todd; "and, bound as I wasto make the best of it, I ventured:

"'Good morning. This rain will be fine for your grass crop. '

'Yes, perhaps, ' he replied, 'but it is very bad for corn; I don't thinkwe'll have half a crop. '

"A few days later, I met him again. 'This is a fine sun for corn, Mr. N. '

"'Yes, ' said he, 'but it's awful for rye; rye wants cold weather. '

"One cool morning soon after, I said: 'This is a capital day for rye. '

"'Yes, ' he said, 'but it is the worst kind of weather for corn andgrass; they want heat to bring them forward. '"

There are a vast number of fidgety, nervous, and eccentric people wholive only to expect new disappointments or to recount their old ones. 

"Impatient people, " said Spurgeon, "water their miseries, and hoe uptheir comforts. "

"Let's see, " said a neighbor to a farmer, whose wagon was loaded downwith potatoes, "weren't we talking together last August?" "I believeso. " "At that time, you said corn was all burnt up. " "Yes. " "Andpotatoes were baking in the ground. " "Yes. " "And that your districtcould not possibly expect more than half a crop. " "I remember. " "Well, here you are with your wagon loaded down. Things didn't turn out sobadly, after all, --eh?" "Well, no-o, " said the farmer, as he raked hisfingers through his hair, "but I tell you my geese suffered awfully forwant of a mud-hole to paddle in. "

What is a pessimist but "a man who looks on the sun only as a thing thatcasts a shadow"?

In Pepys's "Diary" we learn the difference between "eyes shut and earsopen, " and "ears shut and eyes open. " In going from John o' Groat'sHouse to Land's End, a blind man would hear that the country was goingto destruction, but a deaf man with eyes open could see greatprosperity. 

"I dare no more fret than curse or swear, " said John Wesley. 

"A discontented mortal is no more a man than discord is music. "

 "Why should a man whose blood is warm within Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice By being peevish?"

Who are the "lemon squeezers of society"? They are people who predictevil, extinguish hope, and see only the worst side, --"people whose verylook curdles the milk and sets your teeth on edge. " They are oftenworthy people who think that pleasure is wrong; people, said an olddivine, who lead us heavenward and stick pins into us all the way. Theysay depressing things and do disheartening things; they chillprayer-meetings, discourage charitable institutions, injure commerce, and kill churches; they are blowing out lights when they ought to bekindling them. 

A man without mirth is like a wagon without springs, in which one joltsover every pebble; with mirth, he is like a chariot with springs, ridingover the roughest roads and scarcely feeling anything but a pleasantrocking motion. 

"Difficulties melt away before the man who carries about a cheerfulspirit and persistently refuses to be discouraged, while they accumulatebefore the one who is always groaning over his hard luck and scanningthe horizon for clouds not yet in sight. "

"To one man, " says Schopenhauer, "the world is barren, dull, andsuperficial; to another, rich, interesting, and full of meaning. " If oneloves beauty and looks for it, he will see it wherever he goes. If thereis music in his soul, he will hear it everywhere; every object in naturewill sing to him. Two men who live in the same house and do the samework may not live in the same world. Although they are under the sameroof, one may see only deformity and ugliness; to him the world is outof joint, everything is cross-grained and out of sorts: the other issurrounded with beauty and harmony; everybody is kind to him; nobodywishes him harm. These men see the same objects, but they do not lookthrough the same glasses; one looks through a smoked glass which drapesthe whole world in mourning, the other looks through rose-colored lenseswhich tint everything with loveliness and touch it with beauty. 

Take two persons just home from a vacation. "One has positively seennothing, and has always been robbed; the landlady was a harpy, thebedroom was unhealthy, and the mutton was tough. The other has alwaysfound the coziest nooks, the cheapest houses, the best landladies, thefinest views, and the best dinners. "

 "WHAT IS AN OPTIMIST?"

This is the question a farmer's boy asked of his father. 

"Well, John, " replied his father, "you know I can't give ye thedictionary meanin' of that word any more 'n I can of a great manyothers. But I've got a kind of an idee what it means. Probably you don'tremember your Uncle Henry; but I guess if there ever was an optimist, hewas one. Things was always comin' out right with Henry, and especiallyanything hard that he had to do; it wa' n't a-goin' to be hard, --'t wasjest kind of solid-pleasant. 

"Take hoein' corn, now. If anything ever tuckered me out, 'twas hoein'corn in the hot sun. But in the field, 'long about the time I begun tolag back a little, Henry he'd look up an' say:--

"'Good, Jim! When we get these two rows hoed, an' eighteen more, thepiece'll be half done. ' An' he'd say it in such a kind of a cheerful waythat I couldn't 'a' ben any more tickled if the piece had been alldone, --an' the rest would go light enough. 

"But the worst thing we had to do--hoein corn was a picnic to it--waspickin' stones. There was no end to that on our old farm, if we wantedto raise anything. When we wa'n't hurried and pressed with somethin'else, there was always pickin' stones to do; and there wa'n't a plowin'but what brought up a fresh crop, an' seems as if the pickin' had all tobe done over again. 

"Well, you'd' a' thought, to hear Henry, that there wa'n't any fun inthe world like pickin' stones. He looked at it in a different way fromanybody I ever see. Once, when the corn was all hoed, and the grasswa'n't fit to cut yet, an' I'd got all laid out to go fishin', andfather he up and set us to pickin' stones up on the west piece, an' Iwas about ready to cry, Henry he says:--

"'Come on, Jim. I know where there's lots of nuggets. '

"An' what do you s'pose, now? That boy had a kind of a game that thatthere field was what he called a plasser mining field; and he got meinto it, and I could 'a' sworn I was in Californy all day, --I had such agood time. 

"'Only, ' says Henry, after we'd got through the day's work, 'the way youget rich with these nuggets is to get rid of 'em, instead of to get'em. '

"That somehow didn't strike my fancy, but we'd had play instead of work, anyway, an' a great lot of stones had been rooted out of that field. 

"An', as I said before, I can't give ye any dictionary definition ofoptimism; but if your Uncle Henry wa'n't an optimist, I don't know whatone is. "

At life's outset, says one, a cheerful optimistic temperament is wortheverything. A cheerful man, who always "feels first-rate, " who alwayslooks on the bright side, who is ever ready to snatch victory fromdefeat, is the successful man. 

Everybody avoids the company of those who are always grumbling, who arefull of "ifs" and "buts, " and "I told you so's. " We like the man whoalways looks toward the sun, whether it shines or not. It is thecheerful, hopeful man we go to for sympathy and assistance; not thecarping, gloomy critic, --who always thinks it is going to rain, and thatwe are going to have a terribly hot summer, or a fearful thunder-storm, or who is forever complaining of hard times and his hard lot. It is thebright, cheerful, hopeful, contented man who makes his way, who isrespected and admired. 

Gloom and depression not only take much out of life, but detract greatlyfrom the chances of winning success. It is the bright and cheerfulspirit that wins the final triumph. 

 LIVING UP THANKSGIVING AVENUE. 

"I see our brother, who has just sat down, lives on Grumbling street, "said a keen-witted Yorkshireman. "I lived there myself for some time, and never enjoyed good health. The air was bad, the house bad, the waterbad; the birds never came and sang in the street; and I was gloomy andsad enough. But I 'flitted. ' I got into Thanksgiving avenue; and eversince then I have had good health, and so have all my family. The air ispure, the house good; the sun shines on it all day; the birds are alwayssinging; and I am happy as I can live. Now, I recommend our brother to'flit. ' There are plenty of houses to let on Thanksgiving avenue; and hewill find himself a new man if he will only come; and I shall be rightglad to have him for a neighbor. "

This world was not intended for a "vale of tears, " but as a sweet Valeof Content. Travelers are told by the Icelanders, who live amid the coldand desolation of almost perpetual winter, that "Iceland is the bestland the sun shines upon. " "In the long Arctic night, the Eskimo isblithe, and carolsome, far from the approach of the white man; whileamid the glorious scenery and Eden-like climate of Central America, thenative languages have a dozen words for pain and misery and sorrow, forone with any cheerful signification. "

When a Persian king was directed by his wise men to wear the shirt of acontented man, the only contented man in the kingdom had no shirt. Themost contented man in Boston does not live on Commonwealth avenue or dobusiness on State street: he is poor and blind, and he peddles needlesand thread, buttons and sewing-room supplies, about the streets ofBoston from house to house. Dr. Minot J. Savage used to pity this manvery much, and once in venturing to talk with him about his condition, he was utterly amazed to find that the man was perfectly happy. He saidthat he had a faithful wife, and a business by which he earnedsufficient for his wants; and, if he were to complain of his lot, heshould feel mean and contemptible. Surely, if there are any "solid men"in Boston, he is one. 

Content is the magic lamp, which, according to the beautiful picturepainted for us by Goethe, transforms the rude fisherman's hut into apalace of silver; the logs, the floors, the roof, the furniture, everything being changed and gleaming with new light. 

 "My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen; my crown is called content; A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. "

III. OILING YOUR BUSINESS MACHINERY. 

Business is king. We often say that cotton is king, or corn is king, butwith greater propriety we may say that the king is that great machinewhich is kept in motion by the Law of Supply and Demand: the destiniesof all mankind are ruled by it. 

"Were the question asked, " says Stearns, "what is at this moment thestrongest power in operation for controlling, regulating, and incitingthe actions of men, what has most at its disposal the condition anddestinies of the world, we must answer at once, it is business, in itsvarious ranks and departments; of which commerce, foreign and domestic, is the most appropriate representation. In all prosperous and advancingcommunities, --advancing in arts, knowledge, literature, and socialrefinement, --business is king. Other influences in society may beequally indispensable, and some may think far more dignified, but_Business is King_. The statesman and the scholar, the nobleman and theprince, equally with the manufacturer, the mechanic, and the laborer, pursue their several objects only by leave granted and means furnishedby this potentate. "

Oil is better than sand for keeping this vast machinery in good runningcondition. Do not shovel grit or gravel stones upon the bearings. A tinycopper shaving in a wheel box, or a scratch on a journal, may set arailway train on fire. The running of the business world is damaged bywhatever creates friction. 

Anxiety mars one's work. Nobody can do his best when, fevered by worry. One may rush, and always be in great haste, and may talk about beingbusy, fuming and sweating as if he were doing ten men's duties; and yetsome quiet person alongside, who is moving leisurely and without anxioushaste, is probably accomplishing twice as much, and doing it better. Fluster unfits one for good work. 

Have you not sometimes seen a business manager whose stiffness wouldserve as "a good example to a poker?" He acts toward his employees asthe father of Frederick the Great did toward his subjects, caning themon the streets, and shouting, "I wish to be loved and not feared. ""Growl, Spitfire and Brothers, " says Talmage, "wonder why they fail, while Messrs. Merriman and Warmheart succeed. "

There is no investment a business man can make that will pay him agreater per cent, than patience and amiability. Good humor will sell themost goods. 

John Wanamaker's clerks have been heard to say: "We can work better fora week after a pleasant 'Good morning' from Mr. Wanamaker. "

This kindly disposition and cheerful manner, and a desire to create apleasant feeling and diffuse good cheer among those who work for him, have had a great deal to do with the great merchant's remarkablesuccess. On the other hand, a man who easily finds fault, and is nevergenerous-spirited, who never commends the work of subordinates when hecan do so justly, who is unwilling to brighten their hours, fails tosecure the best of service. "Why not try love's way?" It will paybetter, and be better. 

A habit of cheerfulness, enabling one to transmute apparent misfortunesinto real blessings, is a fortune to a young man or young woman justcrossing the threshold of active life. There is nothing but ill fortunein a habit of grumbling, which "requires no talent, no self-denial, nobrains, no character. " Grumbling only makes an employee moreuncomfortable, and may cause his dismissal. No one would or should wishto make him do grudgingly what so many others would be glad to do in acheerful spirit. 

If you dislike your position, complain to no one, least of all to youremployer. Fill the place as it was never filled before. Crowd it tooverflowing. Make yourself more competent for it. Show that you areabundantly worthy of better things. Express yourself in this manner asfreely as you please, for it is the only way that will count. 

No one ever found the world quite as he would like it. You will be sureto have burdens laid upon you that belong to other people, unless youare a shirk yourself; but don't grumble. If the work needs doing and youcan do it, never mind about the other one who ought to have done it anddidn't; do it yourself. Those workers who fill up the gaps, and smoothaway the rough spots, and finish up the jobs that others leaveundone, --they are the true peacemakers, and worth a regiment ofgrumblers. 

"Oh, what a sunny, winsome face she has!" said a Christian Endeavorer, in reporting of a clerk whom he saw in a Bay City store. "The customersflocked about her like bees about a honey-bush in full bloom. "

 SINGING AT YOUR WORK. 

"Give us, therefore, "--let us cry with Carlyle, --"oh, give us the manwho sings at his work! He will do more in the same time, he will do itbetter, he will persevere longer. One is scarcely sensible of fatiguewhilst he marches to music. The very stars are said to make harmony asthey revolve in their spheres. Wondrous is the strength of cheerfulness, altogether past calculation its powers of endurance. Efforts, to bepermanently useful, must be uniformly joyous, a spirit all sunshine, graceful from very gladness, beautiful because bright. "

"It is a good sign, " says another writer, "when girlish voices carolover the steaming dish-pan or the mending-basket, when the broom movesrhythmically, and the duster flourishes in time to some brisk melody. Weare sure that the dishes shine more brightly, and that the sweeping anddusting and mending are more satisfactory because of this runningaccompaniment of song. Father smiles when he hears his girl singingabout her work, and mother's tired face brightens at the sound. Brothersand sisters, without realizing it, perhaps, catch the spirit of thecheerful worker. "

There are singing milkers in Switzerland; a milkmaid or man gets betterwages if gifted with a good voice, for a cow will yield one-fifth moremilk when soothed by a pleasing melody. 

It was said by Buffon that even sheep fatten better to the sound ofmusic. And when field-hands are singing, as you sometimes hear them inthe old country, you may be sure the labor is lightened. 

It is Mrs. Howitt who has told us of the musical bells of the farm teamsin a rural district in England:--"It was no regular tune, but adelicious melody in that soft, sunshiny air, which was filled at thesame time with the song of birds. Angela had heard all kinds of music inLondon, but this was unlike anything she had heard before, so soft, andsweet, and gladsome. On it came, ringing, ringing as softly as flowingwater. The boys and grandfather knew what it meant. Then it came insight, --the farm team going to the mill with sacks of corn to be ground, each horse with a little string of bells to its harness. On they came, the handsome, well-cared-for creatures, nodding their heads as theystepped along; and at every step the cheerful and cheering melody rangout. 

"'Do all horses down here have bells?' asked Angela. 

"'By no means, ' replied her grandfather. 'They cost something; but if wecan make labor easier to a horse by giving him a little music, which heloves, he is less worn by his work, and that is a saving worth thinkingof. A horse is a generous, noble-spirited animal, and not withoutintellect, either; and he is capable of much enjoyment from music. '"

A spirit of song, if not the singing itself, is a constant delight tous. "It is like passing sweet meadows alive with bobolinks. "

"Some men, " says Beecher, "move through life as a band of music movesdown the street, flinging out pleasures on every side, through the air, to every one far and near who can listen; others fill the air with harshclang and clangor. Many men go through life carrying their tongue, theirtemper, their whole disposition so that wherever they go, others dreadthem. Some men fill the air with their presence and sweetness, asorchards in October days fill the air with the perfume of ripe fruit. "

 GOOD HUMOR. 

"Health and good humor, " said Massillon, "are to the human body likesunshine to vegetation. "

The late Charles A. Dana fairly bubbled over with the enjoyment of hiswork, and was, up to his last illness, at his office every day. ACabinet officer once said to him: "Well, Mr. Dana, I don't see how youstand this infernal grind. "

"Grind?" said Mr. Dana. "You never were more mistaken. I have nothingbut fun. "

"Bully" was a favorite word with him; a slang word used to expressuncommon pleasure, such as had been afforded by a trip abroad, or by arun to Cuba or Mexico, or by the perusal of something especiallypleasing in the "Sun's" columns. 

"One of my neighbors is a very ill-tempered man, " said NathanRothschild. "He tries to vex me, and has built a great place for swineclose to my walk. So, when I go out, I hear first, 'Grunt, grunt, ' then'Squeak, squeak. ' But this does me no harm. I am always in good humor. "

Offended by a pungent article, a gentleman called at the "Tribune"office and inquired for the editor. He was shown into a littleseven-by-nine sanctum, where Greeley sat, with his head close down tohis paper, scribbling away at a two-forty rate. The angry man began byasking if this was Mr. Greeley. "Yes, sir; what do you want?" said theeditor quickly, without once looking up from his paper. The iratevisitor then began using his tongue, with no reference to the rules ofpropriety, good breeding, or reason. Meantime Mr. Greeley continued towrite. Page after page was dashed off in the most impetuous style, withno change of features, and without paying the slightest attention to thevisitor. Finally, after about twenty minutes of the most impassionedscolding ever poured out in an editor's office, the angry man becamedisgusted, and abruptly turned to walk out of the room. Then, for thefirst time, Mr. Greeley quickly looked up, rose from his chair, and, slapping the gentleman familiarly on his shoulder, in a pleasant tone ofvoice said: "Don't go, friend; sit down, sit down, and free your mind;it will do you good, --you will feel better for it. Besides, it helps meto think what I am to write about. Don't go. "

"One good hearty laugh, " says Talmage, "is like a bomb-shell explodingin the right place, and spleen and discontent like a gun that kicks overthe man shooting it off. "

"Every one, " says Lubbock, "likes a man who can enjoy a laugh at his ownexpense, --and justly so, for it shows good humor and good sense. If youlaugh at yourself, other people will not laugh at you. "

People differ very much in their sense of humor. As some are deaf tocertain sounds and blind to certain colors, so there are those who seemdeaf and blind to certain pleasures. What makes me laugh until I almostgo into convulsions moves them not at all. 

Is it not worth while to make an effort to see the funny side of ourpetty annoyances? How could the two boys but laugh, after they hadcontended long over the possession of a box found by the wayside, whenthey agreed to divide its contents, and found nothing in it?

The ability to get on with scolding, irritating people is a great art indoing business. To preserve serenity amid petty trials is a happy gift. 

A sunny temper is also conducive to health. A medical authority ofhighest repute affirms that "excessive labor, exposure to wet and cold, deprivation of sufficient quantities of necessary and wholesome food, habitual bad lodging, sloth, and intemperance are all deadly enemies tohuman life, but they are none of them so bad as violent and ungovernedpassions;" that men and women have frequently lived to an advanced agein spite of these; but that instances are very rare in which people ofirascible tempers live to extreme old age. 

Poultney Bigelow, in "Harper's Magazine, " in relating the story ofJameson's raid upon the Boers of South Africa, says that the triumphantBoers fell on their knees, thanking God for their victory; and that theyprayed for their enemies, and treated their prisoners with the utmostkindness. Our foreign missionary books relate similar anecdotes, itbeing a characteristic feature of their childlike piety for new convertsto take literally the words of our Lord, --"Love your enemies. "

It is not true that the devil has his tail in everything. A stalwartconfidence in God, and faith in the happy outcome of life, will do moreto lubricate the creaking machinery of our daily affairs than anythingelse. 

 "LE DIABLE EST MORT. "

"_Courage, ami, le diable est mort!_" "Courage, friend, the devil isdead!" was Denys's constant countersign, which he would give toeverybody. "They don't understand it, " he would say, "but it wakes themup. I carry the good news from city to city, to uplift men's hearts. "Once he came across a child who had broken a pitcher. "_Courage, amie, le diable est mort!_" said he, which was such cheering news that sheceased crying, and ran home to tell it to her grandma. 

Give me the man who, like Emerson, sees longevity in his cause, and whobelieves there is a remedy for every wrong, a satisfaction for everylonging soul; the man who believes the best of everybody, and who seesbeauty and grace where others see ugliness and deformity. Give me theman who believes in the ultimate triumph of truth over error, of harmonyover discord, of love over hate, of purity over vice, of light overdarkness, of life over death. Such men are the true nation-builders. 

Jay Cooke, many times a millionaire at the age of fifty-one, atfifty-two practically penniless, went to work again and built anotherfortune. The last of his three thousand creditors was paid, and thepromise of the great financier was fulfilled. To a visitor who onceasked him how he regained his fortune, Mr. Cooke replied, "That issimple enough: by never changing the temperament I derived from myfather and mother. From my earliest experience in life I have alwaysbeen of a hopeful temperament, never living in a cloud; I have alwayshad a reasonable philosophy to think that men and times are better thanharsh criticism would suppose. I believed that this American world ofours is full of wealth, and that it was only necessary to go to work andfind it. That is the secret of my success in life. Always look on thesunny side. "

"Everything has gone, " said a New York business man in despair, when hereached home. But when he came to himself he found that his wife and hischildren and the promises of God were left to him. Suffering, it wassaid by Aristotle, becomes beautiful when any one bears great calamitieswith cheerfulness, not through insensibility, but through greatness ofmind. 

When Garrison was locked up in the Boston city jail he said he had twodelightful companions, --a good conscience and a cheerful mind. 

 "To live as always seeing The invisible Source of things, Is the blessedest state of being, For the quietude it brings. "

"Away with those fellows who go howling through life, " wrote Beccher, "and all the while passing for birds of paradise! He that cannot laughand be gay should look to himself. He should fast and pray until hisface breaks forth into light. "

Martin Luther has told us that he was once sorely discouraged and vexedat himself, the world, and the church, and at the small success he thenseemed to be having; and he fell into a despondency which affected allhis household. His good wife could not charm it away by cheerful speechor acts. At length she hit upon this happy device, which provedeffectual. She appeared before him in deep mourning. 

"Who is dead?" asked Luther. 

"Oh, do you not know, Martin? God in heaven is dead. "

"How can you talk such nonsense, Käthe? How can God die? Why, He isimmortal, and will live through all eternity. "

"Is that really true?" persisted she, as if she could hardly credit hisassertion that God still lived. 

"How can you doubt it? So surely as there is a God in heaven, " assertedthe aroused theologian, "so sure is it that He can never die. "

"And yet, " said she demurely, in a tone which made him look up at her, "though you do not doubt there is a God, you become hopeless anddiscouraged as if there were none. It seemed to me you acted as if Godwere dead. "

The spell was broken; Luther heartily laughed at his wife's lesson, andher ingenious way of presenting it. "I observed, " he remarked, "what awise woman my wife was, who mastered my sadness. "

Jean Paul Richter's dream of "No God" is one of the most somber thingsin all literature, --"tempestuous chaos, no healing hand, no InfiniteFather. I awoke. My soul wept for joy that it could again worship theInfinite Father. .. . And when I arose, from all nature I heard flowingsweet, peaceful tones, as from evening bells. "

IV. TAKING YOUR FUN EVERY DAY AS YOU DO YOUR WORK. 

Ten things are necessary for happiness in this life, the first being agood digestion, and the other nine, --money; so at least it is said byour modern philosophers. Yet the author of "A Gentle Life" speaks moretruly in saying that the Divine creation includes thousands ofsuperfluous joys which are totally unnecessary to the bare support oflife. 

He alone is the happy man who has learned to extract happiness, not fromideal conditions, but from the actual ones about him. The man who hasmastered the secret will not wait for ideal surroundings; he will notwait until next year, next decade, until he gets rich, until he cantravel abroad, until he can afford to surround himself with works of thegreat masters; but he will make the most out of life to-day, where heis. 

 "Why thus longing, thus forever sighing, For the far-off, unattained and dim, While the beautiful, all round thee lying, Offers up its low, perpetual hymn?

 "Happy the man, and happy he alone, He who can call to-day his own; He who, secure within himself, can say: 'To-morrow, do thy worst, for I have lived to-day!'"

Paradise is here or nowhere: you must take your joy with you or you willnever find it. 

It is after business hours, not in them, that men break down. Men must, like Philip Armour, turn the key on business when they leave it, and atonce unlock the doors of some wholesome recreation. Dr. Lyman Beecherused to divert himself with a violin. He had a regular system of what hecalled "unwinding, " thus relieving the great strain put upon him. 

"A man, " says Dr. Johnson, "should spend part of his time with thelaughers. "

Humor was Lincoln's life-preserver, as it has been of thousands ofothers. "If it were not for this, " he used to say, "I should die. " Hisjests and quaint stories lighted the gloom of dark hours of nationalperil. 

"Next to virtue, " said Agnes Strickland, "the fun in this world is whatwe can least spare. "

"When the harness is off, " said Judge Haliburton, "a critter likes tokick up his heels. "

"I have fun from morning till night, " said the editor Charles A. Dana toa friend who was growing prematurely old. "Do you read novels, and playbilliards, and walk a great deal?"

Gladstone early formed a habit of looking on the bright side of things, and never lost a moment's sleep by worrying about public business. 

There are many out-of-door sports, and the very presence of nature is tomany a great joy. How true it is that, if we are cheerful and contented, all nature smiles with us, --the air seems more balmy, the sky moreclear, the earth has a brighter green, the trees have a richer foliage, the flowers are more fragrant, the birds sing more sweetly, and the sun, moon, and stars all appear more beautiful. "It is a grand thing tolive, --to open the eyes in the morning and look out upon the world, todrink in the pure air and enjoy the sweet sunshine, to feel the pulsebound, and the being thrill with the consciousness of strength and powerin every nerve; it is a good thing simply to be alive, and it is a goodworld we live in, in spite of the abuse we are fond of giving it. "

 "I love to hear the bee sing amid the blossoms sunny; To me his drowsy melody is sweeter than his honey: For, while the shades are shifting Along the path to noon, My happy brain goes drifting To dreamland on his tune. 

 "I love to hear the wind blow amid the blushing petals, And when a fragile flower falls, to watch it as it settles; And view each leaflet falling Upon the emerald turf, With idle mind recalling The bubbles on the surf. 

 "I love to lie upon the grass, and let my glances wander Earthward and skyward there; while peacefully I ponder How much of purest pleasure Earth holds for his delight Who takes life's cup to measure Naught but its blessings bright. "

Upon every side of us are to be found what one has happily called--

 UNWORKED JOY MINES. 

And he who goes "prospecting" to see what he can daily discover is awise man, training his eye to see beauty in everything and everywhere. 

"One ought, every day, " says Goethe, "at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speaka few reasonable words. " And if this be good for one's self, why not trythe song, the poem, the picture, and the good words, on some one else?

Shall music and poetry die out of you while you are struggling for thatwhich can never enrich the character, nor add to the soul's worth? Shalla disciplined imagination fill the mind with beautiful pictures? He whohas intellectual resources to fall back upon will not lack for dailyrecreation most wholesome. 

It was a remark of Archbishop Whately that we ought not only tocultivate the cornfields of the mind, but the pleasure-grounds also. Awell-balanced life is a cheerful life; a happy union of fine qualitiesand unruffled temper, a clear judgment, and well-proportioned faculties. In a corner of his desk, Lincoln kept a copy of the latest humorouswork; and it was frequently his habit, when fatigued, annoyed, ordepressed, to take this up, and read a chapter with great relief. Clean, sensible wit, or sheer nonsense, --anything to provoke mirth and make aman jollier, --this, too, is a gift from Heaven. 

In the world of books, what is grand and inspiring may easily become apart of every man's life. A fondness for good literature, for goodfiction, for travel, for history, and for biography, --what is betterthan this?

 THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD. 

This title best fits Victoria, the true queen of the world, but it fitsher best because she is the best type of a noble wife, the queen of herhusband's heart, and of a queen mother whose children rise up and callher blessed. 

"I noticed, " said Franklin, "a mechanic, among a number of others, atwork on a house a little way from my office, who always appeared to bein a merry humor; he had a kind word and smile for every one he met. Let the day be ever so cold, gloomy, or sunless, a happy smile danced onhis cheerful countenance. Meeting him one morning, I asked him to tellme the secret of his constant flow of spirits. 

"'It is no secret, doctor, ' he replied. 'I have one of the best ofwives; and, when I go to work, she always has a kind word ofencouragement for me; and, when I go home, she meets me with a smile anda kiss; and then tea is sure to be ready, and she has done so manylittle things through the day to please me that I cannot find it in myheart to speak an unkind word to anybody. '"

Some of the happiest homes I have ever been in, ideal homes, whereintelligence, peace, and harmony dwell, have been homes of poor people. No rich carpets covered the floors; there were no costly paintings onthe walls, no piano, no library, no works of art. But there werecontented minds, devoted and unselfish lives, each contributing as muchas possible to the happiness of all, and endeavoring to compensate byintelligence and kindness for the poverty of their surroundings. "Onecheerful, bright, and contented spirit in a household will uplift thetone of all the rest. The keynote of the home is in the hand of theresolutely cheerful member of the family, and he or she will set thepitch for the rest. "

"Young men, " it is said, "are apt to be overbearing, imperious, brusquein their manner; they need that suavity of manner, and urbanity ofdemeanor, gracefulness of expression and delicacy of manner, which canonly be gained by association with the female character, which possessesthe delicate instinct, ready judgment, acute perceptions, wonderfulintuition. The blending of the male and female characteristics producesthe grandest character in each. "

The woman who has what Helen Hunt so aptly called "a genius foraffection, "--she, indeed, is queen of the home. "I have often hadoccasion, " said Washington Irving, "to remark the fortitude with whichwoman sustains the most overwhelming reverses of fortune. Thosedisasters which break down the spirit of a man, and prostrate him in thedust, seem to call forth all the energies of the softer sex, and givesuch intrepidity and elevation to their character that at times itapproaches sublimity. "

If a wife cannot make her home bright and happy, so that it shall be thecleanest, sweetest, cheerfulest place her husband can find refuge in, --aretreat from the toils and troubles of the outer world, --then God helpthe poor man, for he is virtually homeless. "Home-keeping hearts, " saidLongfellow, "are happiest. " What is a good wife, a good mother? Is shenot a gift out of heaven, sacred and delicate, with affections so greatthat no measuring line short of that of the infinite God can tell theirbound; fashioned to refine and soothe and lift and irradiate home andsociety and the world; of such value that no one can appreciate it, unless his mother lived long enough to let him understand it, or unless, in some great crisis of life, when all else failed him, he had a wife toreënforce him with a faith in God that nothing could disturb?

Nothing can be more delightful than an anecdote of Joseph H. Choate, ofNew York, our Minister at the Court of St. James. Upon being asked, at adinner-party, who he would prefer to be if he could not be himself, hehesitated a moment, apparently running over in his mind the great oneson earth, when his eyes rested on Mrs. Choate at the other end of thetable, who was watching him with great interest in her face, andsuddenly replied, "If I could not be myself, I should like to be Mrs. Choate's second husband. "

"Pleasant words are as a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and health to thebones. " It is the little disputes, little fault-findings, littleinsinuations, little reflections, sharp criticisms, fretfulness andimpatience, little unkindnesses, slurs, little discourtesies, badtemper, that create most of the discord and unhappiness in the family. How much it would add to the glory of the homes of the world if thatmight be said of every one which Rogers said of Lord Holland's sunshinyface: "He always comes to breakfast like a man upon whom some suddengood fortune has fallen"!

The value of pleasant words every day, as you go along, is well depictedby Aunt Jerusha in what she said to our genial friend of "Zion'sHerald":--

"If folks could have their funerals when they are alive and well andstruggling along, what a help it would be"! she sighed, upon returningfrom a funeral, wondering how poor Mrs. Brown would have felt if shecould have heard what the minister said. "Poor soul, she never dreamedthey set so much by her!

"Mis' Brown got discouraged. Ye see, Deacon Brown, he'd got a way ofblaming everything on to her. I don't suppose the deacon meantit, --'twas just his way, --but it's awful wearing. When things wore outor broke, he acted just as if Mis' Brown did it herself on purpose; andthey all caught it, like the measles or the whooping-cough. 

"And the minister a-telling how the deacon brought his young wife herewhen 't wa'n't nothing but a wilderness, and how patiently she borehardship, and what a good wife she'd been! Now the minister wouldn'thave known anything about that if the deacon hadn't told him. Dear!Dear! If he'd only told Mis' Brown herself what he thought, I do believehe might have saved the funeral. 

"And when the minister said how the children would miss their mother, seemed as though they couldn't stand it, poor things!

"Well, I guess it is true enough, --Mis' Brown was always doing for someof them. When they was singing about sweet rest in heaven, I couldn'thelp thinking that that was something Mis' Brown would have to get usedto, for she never had none of it here. 

"She'd have been awful pleased with the flowers. They was pretty, and nomistake. Ye see, the deacon wa'n't never willing for her to have aflower-bed. He said 't was enough prettier sight to see good cabbagesa-growing; but Mis' Brown always kind of hankered after sweet-smellingthings, like roses and such. 

"What did you say, Levi? 'Most time for supper? Well, land's sake, so itis! I must have got to meditating. I've been a-thinking, Levi, youneedn't tell the minister anything about me. If the pancakes and pumpkinpies are good, you just say so as we go along. It ain't best to keepeverything laid up for funerals. "

_It is the grand secret of a happy home to express the affection youreally have. _

"He is the happiest, " it was said by Goethe, "be he king or peasant, whofinds peace in his home. " There are indeed many serious, tooserious-minded fathers and mothers who do not wish to advertise theirchildren to all the neighbors as "the laughing family. " If this be so, yet, at the very least, these solemn parents may read the Bible. Whereit is said, "provoke not your children to wrath, " it means literally, "do not irritate your children;" "do not rub them up the wrong way. "

Children ought never to get the impression that they live in a hopeless, cheerless, cold world; but the household cheerfulness should transformtheir lives like sunlight, making their hearts glad with little things, rejoicing upon small occasion. 

"How beautiful would our home-life be if every little child at thebed-time hour could look into the faces of the older ones and say:'We've had such sweet times to-day. '"

"To love, and to be loved, " says Sydney Smith, "is the greatesthappiness of existence. "

V. FINDING WHAT YOU DO NOT SEEK. 

Dining one day with Baron James Rothschild, Eugene Delacroix, the famousFrench artist, confessed that, during some time past, he had vainlysought for a head to serve as a model for that of a beggar in a picturewhich he was painting; and that, as he gazed at his host's features, theidea suddenly occurred to him that the very head he desired was beforehim. Rothschild, being a great lover of art, readily consented to sit asthe beggar. The next day, at the studio, Delacroix placed a tunic aroundthe baron's shoulders, put a stout staff in his hand, and made him poseas if he were resting on the steps of an ancient Roman temple. In thisattitude he was found by one of the artist's favorite pupils, in a briefabsence of the master from the room. The youth naturally concluded thatthe beggar had just been brought in, and with a sympathetic look quietlyslipped a piece of money into his hand. Rothschild thanked him simply, pocketed the money, and the student passed out. Rothschild then inquiredof the master, and found that the young man had talent, but very slendermeans. Soon after, the youth received a letter stating that charitybears interest, and that the accumulated interest on the amount he hadgiven to one he supposed to be a beggar was represented by the sum often thousand francs, which was awaiting his claim at the Rothschildoffice. 

This illustrates well the art of cheerful amusement even if one hasgreat business cares, --the entertainment of the artist, the personationof a beggar, and an act of beneficence toward a worthy student. 

It illustrates, too, what was said by Wilhelm von Humboldt, that "it isworthy of special remark that when we are not too anxious abouthappiness and unhappiness, but devote ourselves to the strict andunsparing performance of duty, then happiness comes of itself. " We carryeach day nobly, doing the duty or enjoying the privilege of the moment, without thinking whether or not it will make us happy. This is quite inaccord with the saying of George Herbert, "The consciousness of dutyperformed gives us music at midnight. "

Are not buoyant spirits like water sparkling when it runs? "_I havefound my greatest happiness in labor_, " said Gladstone. "I early formeda habit of industry, and it has been its own reward. The young are aptto think that rest means a cessation from all effort, but I have foundthe most perfect rest in changing effort. If brain-weary over books andstudy, go out into the blessed sunlight and the pure air, and giveheartfelt exercise to the body. The brain will soon become calm andrested. The efforts of Nature are ceaseless. Even in our sleep the heartthrobs on. I try to live close to Nature, and to imitate her in mylabors. The compensation is sound sleep, a wholesome digestion, andpowers that are kept at their best; and this, I take it, is the chiefreward of industry. "

"Owing to ingrained habits, " said Horace Mann, "work has always been tome what water is to a fish. I have wondered a thousand times to hearpeople say, 'I don't like this business, ' or 'I wish I could exchange itfor that;' for with me, when I have had anything to do, I do notremember ever to have demurred, but have always set about it like afatalist, and it was as sure to be done as the sun was to set. "

"_One's personal enjoyment is a very small thing, but one's personalusefulness is a very important thing. " Those only are happy who havetheir minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness_. "Themost delicate, the most sensible of all pleasures, " says La Bruyère, "consists in promoting the pleasures of others. " And Hawthorne has saidthat the inward pleasure of imparting pleasure is the choicest of all. 

"Oh, it is great, " said Carlyle, "and there is no other greatness, --tomake some nook of God's creation more fruitful, better, more worthy ofGod, --to make some human heart a little wiser, manlier, happier, moreblessed, less accursed!" The gladness of service, of having somehonorable share in the world's work, what is better than this?

"The Lord must love the common people, " said Lincoln, "for he made somany of them, and so few of the other kind. " To extend to all the cup ofjoy is indeed angelic business, and there is nothing that makes one morebeautiful than to be engaged in it. 

"The high desire that others may be blest savors of heaven. "

The memory of those who spend their days in hanging sweet pictures offaith and trust in the galleries of sunless lives shall never perishfrom the earth. 

 DOING GOOD BY STEALTH, AND HAVING IT FOUND OUT BY ACCIDENT. 

"This, " said Charles Lamb, "is the greatest pleasure I know. " "Moneynever yet made a man happy, " said Franklin; "and there is nothing in itsnature to produce happiness. " To do good with it, makes life a delightto the giver. How happy, then, was the life of Jean Ingelow, since whatshe received from the sale of a hundred thousand copies of her poems, and fifty thousand of her prose works, she spent largely in charity; oneunique charity being a "copyright" dinner three times a week to twelvepoor persons just discharged from the neighboring hospitals! Nor was anyone made happier by it than the poet. 

John Buskin inherited a million dollars. "With this money he set aboutdoing good, " says a writer in the "Arena. " "Poor young men and women whowere struggling to get an education were helped, homes for working menand women were established, and model apartment houses were erected. Healso promoted a work for reclaiming waste land outside of London. Thisland was used for the aid of unfortunate men who wished to rise againfrom the state in which they had fallen through cruel social conditionsand their own weaknesses. It is said that this work suggested to GeneralBooth his colonization farms. Ruskin has also ever been liberal inaiding poor artists, and has done much to encourage artistic taste amongthe young. On one occasion he purchased ten fine water-color paintingsby Holman Hunt for $3, 750, to be hung in the public schools of London. By 1877 he had disposed of three-fourths of his inheritance, besides allthe income from his books. But the calls of the poor, and his planslooking toward educating and ennobling the lives of working men, givingmore sunshine and joy, were such that he determined to dispose of allthe remainder of his wealth except a sum sufficient to yield him $1, 500a year on which to live. "

Our own Peter Cooper, in his last days, was one of the happiest men inAmerica; his beneficence shone in his countenance. 

Let the man who has the blues take a map and census table of the world, and estimate how many millions there are who would gladly exchange lotswith him, and let him begin upon some practicable plan to do all thegood he can to as many as he can, and he will forget to be despondent;and he need not stop short at praying for them without first givingevery dollar he can, without troubling the Lord about that. Let himscatter his flowers as he goes along, since he will never go over thesame road again. 

No man in England had a better time than did Du Maurier on that cold daywhen he took the hat of an old soldier on Hampstead road, and sent himaway to the soup kitchen in Euston to get warm. The artist chalked on ablackboard such portraits as he commonly made for "Punch, " and soongathered a great quantity of small coins for the grateful soldier; who, however, at once rubbed out Du Maurier's pictures and put on "thefaithful dog, " and a battle scene, as more artistic. 

"Chinese Gordon, " after serving faithfully and valiantly in the greatChinese rebellion, and receiving the highest honors of the ChineseEmpire, returned to England, caring little for the praise thus heaped onhim. He took some position at Gravesend, just below London, where hefilled his house with boys from the streets, whom he taught and made menof, and then secured them places on ships, --following them all over theworld with letters of advice and encouragement. 

 HIS HEAD IN A HOLE. 

"I was appointed to lecture in a town in Great Britain six miles fromthe railway, " said John B. Gough, "and a man drove me in a fly from thestation to the town. I noticed that he sat leaning forward in anawkward manner, with his face close to the glass of the window. Soon hefolded a handkerchief and tied it round his neck. I asked him if he wascold. "No, sir. " Then he placed the handkerchief round his face. I askedhim if he had the toothache. "No, sir, " was the reply. Still he satleaning forward. At last I said, "Will you please tell me why you sitleaning forward that way with a handkerchief round your neck if you arenot cold and have no toothache?" He said very quietly, "The window ofthe carriage is broke, and the wind is cold, and I am trying to keep itfrom you. " I said, in surprise, "You are not putting your face to thatbroken pane to keep the wind from me, are you?" "Yes, sir, I am. " "Whydo you do that?" "God bless you, sir! I owe everything I have in theworld to you. " "But I never saw you before. " "No, sir; but I have seenyou. I was a ballad-singer once. I used to go round with a half-starvedbaby in my arms for charity, and a draggled wife at my heels half thetime, with her eyes blackened; and I went to hear you in Edinburgh, and_you told me I was a man_; and when I went out of that house I said, 'Bythe help of God, I'll be a man;' and now I've a happy wife and acomfortable home. God bless you, sir! I would stick my head in any holeunder the heavens if it would do you any good. "

 "Let's find the sunny side of men, Or be believers in it; A light there is in every soul That takes the pains to win it. Oh! there's a slumbering good in all, And we perchance may wake it; Our hands contain the magic wand: This life is what we make it. "

He indeed is getting the most out of life who does most to elevatemankind. How happy were those Little Sisters of the Poor at Tours, whotook scissors to divide their last remnant of bedclothing with an oldwoman who came to them at night, craving hospitality! And how happy wasthat American school-teacher who gave up the best room in the house, which she had engaged long before the season opened, at a mountainsanitarium, during the late war, taking instead of it the poorest roomin the house, that she might give good quarters to a soldier just out ofhis camp hospital!

"Teach self-denial, " said Walter Scott, "and make its practicepleasurable, and you create for the world a destiny more sublime thanever issued from the brain of the wildest dreamer. "

Yet how many there are, ready to make some great sacrifice, who neglectthose little acts of kindness which make so many lives brighter andhappier. 

"I say, Jim, it's the first time I ever had anybody ask my parding, andit kind o' took me off my feet. " A young lady had knocked him down inhastily turning a corner. She stopped and said to the raggedcrossing-boy: "I beg your pardon, my little fellow; I am very sorry Iran against you. " He took off the piece of a cap he had on his skull, made a low bow, and said with a broad smile: "You have my parding, Miss, and welcome; and the next time you run agin me, you can knock me cleandown and I won't say a word. "

One of the greatest mistakes of life is to save our smiles and pleasantwords and sympathy for those of "our set, " or for those not now with us, and for other times than the present. 

"If a word or two will render a man happy, " said a Frenchman, "he mustbe a wretch indeed who will not give it. It is like lighting anotherman's candle with your own, which loses none of its brilliancy by whatthe other gains. "

Sydney Smith recommends us to make at least one person happy every day:"Take ten years, and you will make thirty-six hundred and fifty personshappy; or brighten a small town by your contribution to the fund ofgeneral joy. " One who is cheerful is preeminently useful. 

Dr. Baffles once said: "I have made it a rule never to be with a personten minutes without trying to make him happier. " It was a remark of Dr. Dwight, that "one who makes a little child happier for half an hour is afellow-worker with God. "

A little boy said to his mother: "I couldn't make little sister happy, nohow I could fix it. But I made myself happy trying to make her happy. ""I make Jim happy, and he laughs, " said another boy, speaking of hisinvalid brother; "and that makes me happy, and I laugh. "

There was once a king who loved his little boy very much, and took agreat deal of pains to please him. So he gave him a pony to ride, beautiful rooms to live in, pictures, books, toys without number, teachers, companions, and everything that money could buy or ingenuitydevise; but for all this, the young prince was unhappy. He wore a frownwherever he went, and was always wishing for something he did not have. At length a magician came to the court. He saw the scowl on the boy'sface, and said to the king: "I can make your son happy, and turn hisfrowns into smiles, but you must pay me a great price for telling himthis secret. " "All right, " said the king; "whatever you ask I willgive. " The magician took the boy into a private room. He wrote somethingwith a white substance on a piece of paper. He gave the boy a candle, and told him to light it and hold it under the paper, and then see whathe could read. Then the magician went away. The boy did as he had beentold, and the white letters turned into a beautiful blue. They formedthese words: "Do a kindness to some one every day. " The prince followedthe advice, and became the happiest boy in the realm. 

"Happiness, " says one writer, "is a mosaic, composed of many smallerstones. " It is the little acts of kindness, the little courtesies, thedisposition to be accommodating, to be helpful, to be sympathetic, to beunselfish, to be careful not to wound the feelings, not to expose thesore spots, to be charitable of the weaknesses of others, to beconsiderate, --these are the little things which, added up at night, arefound to be the secret of a happy day. How much greater are all thesethan one great act of noteworthy goodness once a year! Our lives aremade up of trifles; emergencies rarely occur. "Little things, unimportant events, experiences so small as to scarcely leave a tracebehind, make up the sum-total of life. " And the one great thing in lifeis to do a little good to every one we meet. Ready sympathy, a quickeye, and a little tact, are all that are needed. 

This point is happily illustrated by this report of an incident upon atrain from Providence to Boston. A lady was caring for her father, whosemental faculties were weakened by age. He imagined that some imperativeduty called on him to leave the swift-moving train, and his daughtercould not quiet him. Just then she noticed a large man watching themover the top of his paper. As soon as he caught her eye, he rose andcrossed quickly to her. 

"I beg your pardon, you are in trouble. May I help you?"

She explained the situation to him. 

"What is your father's name?" he asked. 

She told him; and then with an encouraging smile, she spoke to hervenerable father who was sitting immediately in front of her. The nextmoment the large man turned over the seat, and leaning toward thetroubled old man, he addressed him by name, shook hands with himcordially, and engaged him in a conversation so interesting and socleverly arranged to keep his mind occupied that the old gentlemanforgot his need to leave the train, and did not think of it again untilthey were in Boston. There the stranger put the lady and her charge intoa carriage, received her assurance that she felt perfectly safe, and wasabout to close the carriage door, when she remembered that she had feltso safe in the keeping of this noble-looking man that she had not evenasked his name. Hastily putting her hand against the door, she said:"Pardon me, but you have rendered me such service, may I not know whom Iam thanking?" The big man smiled as he turned away, and answered:--

 "PHILLIPS BROOKS. "

"What a gift it is, " said Beecher, who was the great preacher ofcheerfulness, "to make all men better and happier without knowing it! Wedo not suppose that flowers know how sweet they are. These roses andcarnations have made me happy for a day. Yet they stand huddled togetherin my pitcher, without seeming to know my thoughts of them, or thegracious work they are doing. And how much more is it, to have adisposition that carries with it involuntarily sweetness, calmness, courage, hope, and happiness. Yet this is the portion of good nature ina large-minded, strong-natured man. When it has made him happy, it hasscarcely begun its office. God sends a natural heart-singer--a man whosenature is large and luminous, and who, by his very carriage andspontaneous actions, calms, cheers, and helps his fellows. God blesshim, for he blesses everybody!" This is just what Mr. Beecher would havesaid about Phillips Brooks. 

And what better can be said than to compare the heart's good cheer to afloral offering? _Are not flowers appropriate gifts to persons of allages, in any conceivable circumstances in which they are placed? So theheart's good cheer and deeds of kindness are always acceptable tochildren and youth, to busy men and women, to the aged, and to a worldof invalids. _

"Thus live and die, O man immortal, " says Dr. Chalmers. "Live forsomething. Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue, which thestorms of time can never destroy. Write your name in kindness, love, andmercy, on the hearts of those who come in contact with you, and you willnever be forgotten. Good deeds will shine as brightly on earth as thestars of heaven. "

What is needed to round out human happiness is a well-balanced life. Notease, not pleasure, not happiness, but a man, Nature is after. "Thereis, " says Robert Waters, "no success without honor; no happiness withouta clear conscience; no use in living at all if only for one's self. Itis not at all necessary for you to make a fortune, but it is necessary, absolutely necessary, that you should become a fair-dealing, honorable, useful man, radiating goodness and cheerfulness wherever you go, andmaking your life a blessing. "

"When a man does not find repose in himself, " says a French proverb, "itis vain for him to seek it elsewhere. " Happy is he who has no sense ofdiscord with the harmony of the universe, who is open to the voices ofnature and of the spiritual realm, and who sees the light that never wason sea or land. Such a life can but give expression to its inwardharmony. Every pure and healthy thought, every noble aspiration for thegood and the true, every longing of the heart for a higher and betterlife, every lofty purpose and unselfish endeavor, makes the human spiritstronger, more harmonious, and more beautiful. It is this alone thatgives a self-centered confidence in one's heaven-aided powers, and ahigh-minded cheerfulness, like that of a celestial spirit. It is thiswhich an old writer has called the paradise of a good conscience. 

 "I count this thing to be grandly true, That a noble deed is a step toward God; Lifting the soul from the common clod To a purer air and a broader view. 

 "We rise by the things that are under our feet; By what we have mastered of good or gain; By the pride deposed and the passion slain, And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet. "

"My body must walk the earth, " said an ancient poet, "but I can putwings on my soul, and plumes to my hardest thought. " The splendors andsymphonies and the ecstacies of a higher world are with us now in therudimentary organs of eye and ear and heart. Much we have to do, muchwe have to love, much we have to hope for; and our "joy is the grace wesay to God. " "When I think upon God, " said Haydn to Carpani, "my heartis so full of joy that the notes leap from my pen. "

Says Gibbons:--

 "Our lives are songs: God writes the words, And we set them to music at leisure; And the song is sad, or the song is glad, As we choose to fashion the measure. 

 "We must write the song Whatever the words, Whatever its rhyme or meter; And if it is sad, we must make it glad, And if sweet, we must make it sweeter. "

VI. "LOOKING PLEASANT"--SOMETHING TO BE WORKED FROM THE INSIDE. 

Acting on a sudden impulse, an elderly woman, the widow of a soldier whohad been killed in the Civil War, went into a photographer's to have herpicture taken. She was seated before the camera wearing the same stern, hard, forbidding look that had made her an object of fear to thechildren living in the neighborhood, when the photographer, thrustinghis head out from the black cloth, said suddenly, "Brighten the eyes alittle. "

She tried, but the dull and heavy look still lingered. 

"Look a little pleasanter, " said the photographer, in an unimpassionedbut confident and commanding voice. 

"See here, " the woman retorted sharply, "if you think that an old womanwho is dull can look bright, that one who feels cross can becomepleasant every time she is told to, you don't know anything about humannature. It takes something from the outside to brighten the eye andilluminate the face. "

"Oh, no, it doesn't! _It's something to be worked from the inside. _ Tryit again, " said the photographer good-naturedly. 

Something in his manner inspired faith, and she tried again, this timewith better success. 

"That's good! That's fine! You look twenty years younger, " exclaimed theartist, as he caught the transient glow that illuminated the faded face. 

She went home with a queer feeling in her heart. It was the firstcompliment she had received since her husband had passed away, and itleft a pleasant memory behind. When she reached her little cottage, shelooked long in the glass and said, "There may be something in it. ButI'll wait and see the picture. "

When the picture came, it was like a resurrection. The face seemed alivewith the lost fires of youth. She gazed long and earnestly, then said ina clear, firm voice, "If I could do it once, I can do it again. "

Approaching the little mirror above her bureau, she said, "Brighten up, Catherine, " and the old light flashed up once more. 

"Look a little pleasanter!" she commanded; and a calm and radiant smilediffused itself over the face. 

Her neighbors, as the writer of this story has said, soon remarked thechange that had come over her face: "Why, Mrs. A. , you are gettingyoung. How do you manage it?"

"_It is almost all done from the inside. You just brighten up inside andfeel pleasant. _"

 "Fate served me meanly, but I looked at her and laughed, That none might know how bitter was the cup I quaffed. Along came Joy and paused beside me where I sat, Saying, 'I came to see what you were laughing at. '"

_Every emotion tends to sculpture the body into beauty or intougliness. _ Worrying, fretting, unbridled passions, petulance, discontent, every dishonest act, every falsehood, every feeling of envy, jealousy, fear, --each has its effect on the system, and actsdeleteriously like a poison or a deformer of the body. Professor Jamesof Harvard, an expert in the mental sciences, says, "Every small strokeof virtue or vice leaves its ever so little scar. Nothing we ever do is, in strict literalness, wiped out. " _The way to be beautiful without isto be beautiful within. _

WORTH FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS. 

It is related that Dwight L. Moody once offered to his Northfield pupilsa prize of five hundred dollars for the best thought. This took theprize: "Men grumble because God put thorns with roses; wouldn't it bebetter to thank God that he put roses with thorns?"

We win half the battle when we make up our minds to take the world as wefind it, including the thorns. "It is, " says Fontenelle, "a greatobstacle to happiness to expect too much. " This is what happens in reallife. Watch Edison. He makes the most expensive experiments throughout along period of time, and he expects to make them, and he never worriesbecause he does not succeed the first time. 

"I cannot but think, " says Sir John Lubbock, "that the world would bebetter and brighter if our teachers would dwell on the duty of happinessas well as on the happiness of duty. "

Oliver Wendell Holmes, in advanced years, acknowledged his debt ofgratitude to the nurse of his childhood, who studiously taught him toignore unpleasant incidents. If he stubbed his toe, or skinned his knee, or bumped his nose, his nurse would never permit his mind to dwell uponthe temporary pain, but claimed his attention for some pretty object, orcharming story, or happy reminiscence. To her, he said, he was largelyindebted for the sunshine of a long life. It is a lesson which is easilymastered in childhood, but seldom to be learned in middle life, andnever in old age. 

"When I was a boy, " says another author, "I was consoled for cutting myfinger by having my attention called to the fact that I had not brokenmy arm; and when I got a cinder in my eye, I was expected to feel morecomfortable because my cousin had lost his eye by an accident. "

"We should brave trouble, " says Beecher, "as the New England boy braveswinter. The school is a mile away over the hill, yet he lingers not bythe fire; but, with his books slung over his shoulder, he sets out toface the storm. When he reaches the topmost ridge, where the snow liesin drifts, and the north wind comes keen and biting, does he shrink andcower down by the fences, or run into the nearest house to warm himself?No; he buttons up his coat, and rejoices to defy the blast, and tossesthe snow-wreaths with his foot; and so, erect and fearless, with strongheart and ruddy cheek, he goes on to his place at school. "

Children should be taught the habit of finding pleasure everywhere; andto see the bright side of everything. "Serenity of mind comes easy tosome, and hard to others. It can be taught and learned. We ought to haveteachers who are able to educate us in this department of our naturesquite as much as in music or art. Think of a school or classes fortraining men and women to carry themselves serenely amid all the trialsthat beset them!"

 "Joy is the mainspring in the whole Of endless Nature's calm rotation. Joy moves the dazzling wheels that roll In the great timepiece of Creation. " SCHILLER. 

 THE "DON'T WORRY" SOCIETY

was organized not long ago in New York; it is, however, just as wellsuited to other latitudes and longitudes. It is intended for people who"cannot help worrying. "

If really you can't help it, you are in an abnormal condition, you havelost self-control, --it is a mild type of mental derangement. You mustattack your bad habit of worrying as you would a disease. It isdefinitely something to be overcome, an infirmity that you are to getrid of. 

"Be good and you will be happy, " is a very old piece of advice. Mrs. Mary A. Livermore now proposes to reverse it, --"Be happy and you will begood. " If unhappiness is a bad habit, you are to turn about by sheerforce of will and practice cheerfulness. "Happiness is a thing to bepracticed like a violin. "

Not work, but worry, fretfulness, friction, --these are our foes inAmerica. You should not go here and there, making prominent either yourbad manners or a gloomy face. Who has a right to rob other people oftheir happiness? "Do not, " says Emerson, "hang a dismal picture on yourwall; and do not deal with sables and glooms in your conversation. "

If you are not at the moment cheerful, --look, speak, act, as if youwere. "You know I had no money, I had nothing to give but myself, " saida woman who had great sorrows to bear, but who bore them cheerfully. "Iformed a resolution never to sadden any one else with my troubles. Ihave laughed and told jokes when I could have wept. I have always smiledin the face of every misfortune. I have tried never to let any one gofrom my presence without a happy word or a bright thought to carry away. And happiness makes happiness. I myself am happier than I should havebeen had I sat down and bemoaned my fate. "

 "'T is easy enough to be pleasant, When life flows along like a song; But the man worth while is the one who will smile When everything goes dead wrong; For the test of the heart is trouble, And it always comes with the years; And the smile that is worth the praise of the earth Is the smile that comes through tears. "

 A PLEASURE BOOK. 

"She is an aged woman, but her face is serene and peaceful, thoughtrouble has not passed her by. She seems utterly above the littleworries and vexations which torment the average woman and leave lines ofcare. The Fretful Woman asked her one day the secret of her happiness;and the beautiful old face shone with joy. 

"'My dear, ' she said, 'I keep a Pleasure Book. '

"'A what?'

"'A Pleasure Book. Long ago I learned that there is no day so dark andgloomy that it does not contain some ray of light, and I have made itone business of my life to write down the little things which mean somuch to a woman. I have a book marked for every day of every year sinceI left school. It is but a little thing: the new gown, the chat with afriend, the thoughtfulness of my husband, a flower, a book, a walk inthe field, a letter, a concert, or a drive; but it all goes into myPleasure Book, and, when I am inclined to fret, I read a few pages tosee what a happy, blessed woman I am. You may see my treasures if youwill. '

"Slowly the peevish, discontented woman turned over the book her friendbrought her, reading a little here and there. One day's entries ranthus: 'Had a pleasant letter from mother. Saw a beautiful lily in awindow. Found the pin I thought I had lost. Saw such a bright, happygirl on the street. Husband brought some roses in the evening. '

"Bits of verse and lines from her daily reading have gone into thePleasure Book of this world-wise woman, until its pages are a storehouseof truth and beauty. [1]

"'Have you found a pleasure for every day?' the Fretful Woman asked. 

"'For every day, ' the low voice answered; 'I had to make my theory cometrue, you know. '"

The Fretful Woman ought to have stopped there, but did not; and shefound that page where it was written--"He died with his hand in mine, and my name upon his lips. " Below were the lines from Lowell:--

 "Lone watcher on the mountain height: It is right precious to behold The first long surf of climbing light Flood all the thirsty eat with gold;

 "Yet God deems not thine aeried sight More worthy than our twilight dim, For meek obedience, too, is light, And following that is finding Him. "

In one of the battles of the Crimea, a cannon-ball struck inside thefort, crashing through a beautiful garden; but from the ugly chasm thereburst forth a spring of water which is still flowing. And how beautifulit is, if our strange earthly sorrows become a blessing to others, through our determination to live and to do for those who need our help. Life is not given for mourning, but for unselfish service. 

"Cheerfulness, " says Ruskin, "is as natural to the heart of a man instrong health as color to his cheek; and wherever there is habitualgloom there must be either bad air, unwholesome food, improperly severelabor, or erring habits of life. " It is an erring habit of life if weare not first of all cheerful. We are thrown into a morbid habit throughcircumstances utterly beyond our control, yet this fact does not changeour duty toward God and toward man, --our duty to be cheerful. We arehuman; but it is our high privilege to lead a divine life, to accept thejoy which our Lord bequeathed to his disciples. 

Our trouble is that we do not half will. After a man's habits are wellset, about all he can do is to sit by and observe which way he is going. Regret it as he may, how helpless is a weak man, bound by the mightycable of habit; twisted from tiny threads which he thought wereabsolutely within his control. Yet a habit of happy thought wouldtransform his life into harmony and beauty. Is not the will almostomnipotent to determine habits before they become all-powerful? Whatcontributes more to health or happiness than a vigorous will? A habit ofdirecting a firm and steady will upon those things which tend to produceharmony of thought will bring happiness and contentment; the will, rightly drilled, --and divinely guided, --can drive out all discordantthoughts, and usher in the reign of perpetual harmony. It is impossibleto overestimate the importance of forming a habit of cheerfulness earlyin life. The serene optimist is one whose mind has dwelt so long uponthe sunny side of life that he has acquired a habit of cheerfulness. 

 "Talk happiness. The world is sad enough Without your woes. No path is wholly rough; Look for the places that are smooth and clear, And speak of those who rest the weary ear Of earth, so hurt by one continuous strain Of human discontent and grief and pain. 

 "Talk faith. The world is better off without Your uttered ignorance and morbid doubt. If you have faith in God, or man, or self, Say so; if not, push back upon the shelf Of silence all your thoughts till faith shall come; No one will grieve because your lips are dumb. 

 "Talk health. The dreary, never-changing tale Of mortal maladies is worn and stale. You cannot charm, or interest, or please, By harping on that minor chord, disease. Say you are well, or all is well with you. And God shall hear your words and make them true. "[2]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] For this Pleasure-Book illustration I am indebted to "The Woman'sHome Companion. "

[2] The three metrical pieces cited in this chapter are by ELLA WHEELERWILCOX, who has gladdened the world by so much literary sunlight. 

VII. THE SUNSHINE-MAN. 

"There's the dearest little old gentleman, " says James Buckham, "whogoes into town every morning on the 8. 30 train. I don't know his name, and yet I know him better than anybody else in town. He just radiatescheerfulness as far as you can see him. There is always a smile on hisface, and I never heard him open his mouth except to say something kind, courteous, or good natured. Everybody bows to him, even strangers, andhe bows to everybody, yet never with the slightest hint of presumptionor familiarity. If the weather is fine, his jolly compliments make itseem finer; and if it is raining, the merry way in which he speaks of itis as good as a rainbow. Everybody who goes in on the 8. 30 train knowsthe sunshine-man; it's his train. You just hurry up a little, and I'llshow you the sunshine-man this morning. It's foggy and cold, but if onelook at him doesn't cheer you up so that you'll want to whistle, thenI'm no judge of human nature. "

"Good morning, sir!" said Mr. Jolliboy in going to the same train. 

"Why, sir, I don't know you, " replied Mr. Neversmile. 

"I didn't say you did, sir. Good morning, sir!"

"The inborn geniality of some people, " says Whipple, "amounts togenius. " "How in our troubled lives, " asks J. Freeman Clarke, "could wedo without these fair, sunny natures, into which on their creation-dayGod allowed nothing sour, acrid, or bitter to enter, but made them aperpetual solace and comfort by their cheerfulness?" There are thosewhose very presence carries sunshine with them wherever they go; asunshine which means pity for the poor, sympathy for the suffering, helpfor the unfortunate, and benignity toward all. Everybody loves the sunnysoul. His very face is a passport anywhere. All doors fly open to him. He disarms prejudice and envy, for he bears good will to everybody. Heis as welcome in every household as the sunshine. 

"He was quiet, cheerful, genial, " says Carlyle in his "Reminiscences"concerning Edward Irving's sunny helpfulness. "His soul unruffled, clearas a mirror, honestly loving and loved, Irving's voice was to me one ofblessedness and new hope. "

And to William Wilberforce the poet Southey paid this tribute: "I neversaw any other man who seemed to enjoy such perpetual serenity andsunshine of spirit. "

"I resolved, " said Tom Hood, "that, like the sun, so long as my daylasted, I would look on the bright side of everything. "

When Goldsmith was in Flanders he discovered the happiest man he hadever seen. At his toil, from morning till night, he was full of song andlaughter. Yet this sunny-hearted being was a slave, maimed, deformed, and wearing a chain. How well he illustrated that saying which bids us, if there is no bright side, to polish up the dark one! "Mirth is likethe flash of lightning that breaks through the gloom of the clouds andglitters for a moment; cheerfulness keeps up a daylight in the soul, filling it with a steady and perpetual serenity. " It is cheerfulnessthat has the staying quality, like the sunshine changing a world ofgloom into a paradise of beauty. 

The first prize at a flower-show was taken by a pale, sickly littlegirl, who lived in a close, dark court in the east of London. The judgesasked how she could grow it in such a dingy and sunless place. Shereplied that a little ray of sunlight came into the court; as soon as itappeared in the morning, she put her flower beneath it, and, as itmoved, moved the flower, so that she kept it in the sunlight all day. 

"Water, air, and sunshine, the three greatest hygienic agents, are free, and within the reach of all. " "Twelve years ago, " says Walt Whitman, "Icame to Camden to die. But every day I went into the country, and bathedin the sunshine, lived with the birds and squirrels, and played in thewater with the fishes. I received my health from Nature. "

"It is the unqualified result of all my experience with the sick, " saidFlorence Nightingale, "that second only to their need of fresh air, istheir need of light; that, after a close room, what most hurts them is adark room; and that it is not only light, but direct sunshine theywant. "

"Sunlight, " says Dr. L. W. Curtis, in "Health Culture, " "has much to doin keeping air in a healthy condition. No plant can grow in the dark, neither can man remain healthy in a dark, ill-ventilated room. When thefirst asylum for the blind was erected in Massachusetts, the committeedecided to save expense by not having any windows. They reasoned that, as the patients could not see, there was no need of any light. It wasbuilt without windows, but ventilation was well provided for, and thepoor sightless patients were domiciled in the house. But things did notgo well: one after another began to sicken, and great languor fell uponthem; they felt distressed and restless, craving something, they hardlyknew what. After two had died and all were ill, the committee decided tohave windows. The sunlight poured in, and the white faces recoveredtheir color; their flagging energies and depressed spirits revived, andhealth was restored. "

The sun, making all living things to grow, exerts its happiest influencein cheering the mind of man and making his heart glad, and if a man hassunshine in his soul he will go on his way rejoicing; content to lookforward if under a cloud, not bating one jot of heart or hope if for amoment cast down; honoring his occupation, whatever it be; renderingeven rags respectable by the way he wears them; and not only happyhimself, but giving happiness to others. 

How a man's face shines when illuminated by a great moral motive! andhis manner, too, is touched with the grace of light. 

"Nothing will supply the want of sunshine to peaches, " said Emerson, "and to make knowledge valuable you must have the cheerfulness ofwisdom. "

"Wondrous is the strength of cheerfulness, " said Carlyle; "altogetherpast calculation its powers of endurance. Efforts to be permanentlyuseful must be uniformly joyous, --a spirit all sunshine, graceful fromvery gladness, beautiful because bright. "

"The cheerful man carries with him perpetually, in his presence andpersonality, an influence that acts upon others as summer warmth on thefields and forests. It wakes up and calls out the best that is in them. It makes them stronger, braver, and happier. Such a man makes a littlespot of this world a lighter, brighter, warmer place for other people tolive in. To meet him in the morning is to get inspiration which makesall the day's struggles and tasks easier. His hearty handshake puts athrill of new vigor into your veins. After talking with him for a fewminutes, you feel an exhilaration of spirits, a quickening of energy, arenewal of zest and interest in living, and are ready for any duty orservice. "

"Great hearts there are among men, " says Hillis, of Plymouth pulpit;"they carry a volume of manhood; their presence is sunshine; theircoming changes our climate; they oil the bearings of life; their shadowalways falls behind them; they make right living easy. Blessed are thehappiness-makers: they represent the best forces in civilization!"

If refined manners reprove us a little for ill-timed laughter, a smilingface kindled by a smiling heart is always in order. Who can ever forgetEmerson's smile? It was a perpetual benediction upon all who knew him. Asmile is said to be to the human countenance what sunshine is to thelandscape. Or a smile is called the rainbow of the face. 

"This is a dark world to many people, " says a suggestive modern writer, "a world of chills, a world of fogs, a world of wet blankets. Nine-tenths of the men we meet need encouragement. Your work is sourgent that you have no time to stop and speak to the people, but everyday you meet scores, perhaps hundreds and thousands of persons, uponwhom you might have direct and immediate influence. 'How? How?' youcry out. We answer: By the grace of physiognomy. There is nothing morecatching than a face with a lantern behind it, shining clear through. Wehave no admiration for a face with a dry smile, meaning no more than thegrin of a false face. But a smile written by the hand of God, as anindex finger or table of contents, to whole volumes of good feelingwithin, is a benediction. You say: 'My face is hard and lacking inmobility, and my benignant feelings are not observable in the facialproportions. ' We do not believe you. Freshness and geniality of the soulare so subtle and pervading that they will, at some eye or mouth corner, leak out. Set behind your face a feeling of gratitude to God andkindliness toward man, and you will every day preach a sermon long asthe streets you walk, a sermon with as many heads as the number ofpeople you meet, and differing from other sermons in the fact that thelonger it is the better. The reason that there are so many sour faces, so many frowning faces, so many dull faces, is because men consent to beacrid and petulant, and stupid. The way to improve your face is toimprove your disposition. Attractiveness of physiognomy does not dependon regularity of features. We know persons whose brows are shaggy, eyesoblique, noses ominously longitudinal, and mouths straggling along inunusual and unexpected directions; and yet they are men and women of somuch soul that we love to look upon them, and their faces are sweetevangels. "

It was N. P. Willis, I think, who added to the beatitudes--"Blessed arethe joy-makers. " "And this is why all the world loves little children, who are always ready to have 'a sunshine party, '--little childrenbubbling over with fun, as a bobolink with song. 

"How well we remember it all!--the long gone years of our own childhood, and the households of joyous children we have known in later years. Joy-makers are the children still, --some of them in unending scenes oflight. I saw but yesterday this epitaph at Mount Auburn, --'She was sopleasant': sunny-hearted in life, and now alive forever more in lightsupernal. 

"How can we then but rejoice with joy unspeakable, as the children ofimmortality; living habitually above the gloom and damps of earth, andleading lives of ministration; bestowing everywhere sweetness andlight, --radiating upon the earth something of the beauty of the unseenworld. "

What is a sunny temper but "a talisman more powerful than wealth, moreprecious than rubies"? What is it but "an aroma whose fragrance fillsthe air with the odors of Paradise"?

"I am so full of happiness, " said a little child, "that I could not beany happier unless I could grow. " And she bade "Good morning" to hersweet singing bird, and "Good morning" to the sun; then she asked hermother's permission, and softly, reverently, gladly bade "Good morningto God, "--and why should she not?

Was it not Goethe who represented a journey that followed the sunshineround the world, forever bathed in light? And Longfellow sang:

 "'T is always morning somewhere; and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. "

 "The darkness past, we mount the radiant skies, And changeless day is ours; we hear the songs Of higher spheres, the light divine our eyes Behold and sunlight robes of countless throngs Who dwell in light; we seek, with joyous quest, God's service sweet to wipe all tears away, And list we every hour, with eager zest, For high command to toils that God has blest: So fill we full our endless sunshine day. "