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OUTCOME OF AGNOSTICISM By REV. JAMES W. LEE,i PASTOR TRINITY METHODIST CHURCH There I* not tn modern-.((me,.; * completer illuetration of the outcome or a wrong philosophic basis their Is fur nished In the life and writings of Her bert Spencer. His system of philosophy Is the most comprehensive In the English language, and It Is remarkable that, while It has been the fashion to laugh at the only system In modern times that can be compared with It, that of Hegel, Eng lish-speaking peoples have swallowed the doctrines of Spencer, and by them hare been influenced as by the teach ings of no other thinker of the past flf. ty years. Hegel and Spencer are as unlike as two thinkers ever were. The foundation of Hegel's system Is know able mind; the foundation of Spen cer's Is unknowable force. They both, however, worked In accordance with the principle of evolution. Hegel's evo. lutlon was a logical process, a pure dialectic movement of thought, from premise to conclusion. He started with the thought of the absolute Qod, and found In nature and history the work ing out, the gradual externalfiation, of the mind of Ood. Spencer's evolution Is a process of becoming, too, but he starts with ulti mate, Inscrutable, persistent force, and sees In all variety of life and mind the manifestations of this unknowable, per sistent energy. Hegel begins with a knowledge of Ood and ends with a knowable man. and sees In the material universe the literature of Clod's mind, which man. made In the Image'of Ood, has a mind to read and Interpret. Spencer begins with Inscrutable ener gy and throws the universe, with life and mind and religion. Into terms of matter, motion and force. At the bot tom of Hegel's universe there Is an Idea of the Almighty Ood; at the bot tom of Spencer's there Is the boiling fire mist of the unknowable. Hegel insures the mental sanity of man by showing-him that the world In which he lives Is guided by a mind he rah un derstand and adjust himself to. Spencer opens the way for mental chaos and confusion by propounding i doctrine of the %orld. which looks upon all that Is or that he loves as so much transformed heat or Inscrutable ener gy. which. If accepted, would .destroy all moral distinctions. If all we see Is so much transformed force or energy or heat, then there can be no funda mental difference between right and wrong. Love In the hearts of men Is transformed force, but so Is poison In the farfgs of snakes. Mr. Spencer's whole system of phil osophy Is utterly contradictory. His theory of being Is as transcendental as Hegel's, while his theory of knowl edge Is as sensational as John Lock's. The truth Is, Mr. Spencer’s unknow able had nearly all the attributes us ually ascribed to the Ood of the Bible, except It dltTnot have any sense. It Is a real, omnipotent, casual, omni present. unconditioned, persistent. In scrutable Idiot. With such a being at the head of the universe, what security has man beneath or above or beyond him? The whole material and moral nnd spiritual order Is left without a re sponsible head and guide. All things are reduced to the meaningless level of Indifference. On pages 31-38 of "First Principles," he says: "Self-existence, therefore, necessarily means existence without a beginning; and to form a conception of self-existence Is to form a con ception of existence without ‘a begin ning. Now, by no mental effort can we do this. To conceive existence through Infinite past time, Implies the conception of Infinite past time, which Is an Impossibility.” Hence, belief Ip self-existent (lod would seem. In Mr. Spencer's opinion, to be absurd; Here Mr. Spencer makes the mistake of confusing the nature of a thing with the quantity of a thing. We can not picture tn our mind all past time, but we can hold before the mind a mo ment, an hour or a day of that time.. wen as 11 we couia run dock ini all past tlmf'and get an Image But on page. 173 of the second ps "First Principles” Mr. Spencer t We thus- get at the natqre of ft, as well os If ive could run back through of It, part of treats of the Indestructibility of matter and says: "The -doctrine. that matter Is Indestructible has now become'a com monplace. Matter never either comes Into existence or ceases to exist. Then matter has existed throughout, all past time and will continue to exist, through all future time. It had no beginning. It will have no end." But to think of matter aii thus eternally exist ent Is, It, not necessarjt to conceive existence through Infinite past Time, which Implies the conception of Infinite past tithe, which Mr. Spencer says Is an Impossoblllty? To rule out a self- existent Ood, because belief In'such a Ood Implies the conception of Infinite past time, and then make It a mere commonplace to believe In the Inde structibility of matter, to do which Im plies the conception of Infinite past time. Is contradictory and flbsurd. It Is just as rational to believe In a self- existent Ood, and puts the faith faculty to no greater strain, than to believe In self-existent matter. On page 182 of "First Prljlclples" It Is said: “The very nature of Intelli gence . negatlvee the supposition that motion can be conceived (much less known) either to commence or cease." If motion Is thought of never beginning and never ceasing, are not Infinite past time and Infinite fu ture both conceived? And If the mind can believe In motion without begin ning and without ending, why not In a Ood without beginning and without ending? Why rule oflt Ood and keep In motion If the same 'thought condi tions are necessary to accept the one as the other? On page 19, sixth chapter, of the second part of "First Principles,” Mr. Spencer treats of the persistence of force, and claims that matter and mo tion are known through force. To be lieve In the persistence of force It Is necessary to accept a scientific doc- REV. JAME8 W. LEE. trine that Implies the conception of all future time. This Mr. Spencer claims, when treating the matter of self-ex istence or a self-existent Ood, Is an Impossibility. Now, the Indestructibility of matter, the continuity of motion, the persist ence of force, constitute the fundamen- >1 elements of Mr. Spencer's philoso phy. The acceptance of these princi ples makes the same claims 'upon the human mind and faith that acceptance ! of the Ood of the Bible and the Ood of our fathers does. Tet belief In the one he would claim. to be rational, while belief In the other Is absurd. This Is certainly a contradiction. Now;: tags jfr. Spencer's "Unknow able." He seeks to show from the athe istic, pantheistic and thelstlc explana tion of the universe that the . power which the universe manlfesta to us is utterly Inscrutable; that "space and time are wholly . Incomprehensible," that "matter In Its ultimate nature is as absolutely Incomprehensible as space and time," that "all efforts to under stand the easentlal nature of motion do but bring us to alternative Imposalblll ties of thought," and so forth. Thus all things are lauded by him In the "Unknowable"—matter, motion, force, time, space, personality and conscious ness. A man who could construct the uni verse out of boundless, boiling, uncon ditioned, inscrutable energy and out of tills seething. Illltnttable, persistent force get life and;mind and art and Church and state. Is capable of accom- illshlng other marvelous undertakings, lellglon, Mr. Spender said, Was a won derful and stupendous something, and as he had set about accounting for all that Is, or ever had been, he felt It to be proper to show' how religion came to be. And though In the beginning of his synthetic system he declared re ligion to be as normal and as much a part of man's nature as any other fac ulty, yet when he came to treat the subject more fully In his sociology he showed that It ha real dreams, brougi age by eating too much fresh m»at. The doctrine that we do not know things In themselves can not stand the test of the practical life. It never had a more thorough application to life thaii was given It by Mr. Spencer. He became an ascetic through devotion to It. Old Simon Styletes, on his pil lar by Antioch, standing for thirty years through heat and cold, was never more consecrated lo hla conception of the godly life than waa Mr. Spencer given up to hit view of the universe ns so much Inscrutable force. But the Spencerian system, when as sumed to be true does not act In prac tice as though It were true. Mr. Spen cer himself lived long enough to see his philosophy In ruins. He became a pessimist, for he saw the life of his time, domestic, political, social. Insti tutional, taking other forms than such as he had mapped out, for It. He saw it vising and taking other directions than, those Indicated by his philosophy. The conclusion, therefore, to which he came, was that as life did not advance according to the lines of his synthetic program. It was In a state of decadence. Thua nothing was left him. as he con templated the distance between the shores of his thinking and such as the current of human Interests was. cut ting for Itself to flow through, but a wall. The persistent force Issuing forth from the dark, unfathomable unknown had broken over, the boundaries of the mental dykes Mr. Spencer had built to aurround It, and regulate It. He was optimistic enough at the beginning tn suppose that the universe of life and mind would move In accordance with the program he sketched for It. but they did not, and so nothing was left him but disappointment an<j despair. Instead of concluding that he was wrong, that he hnd failed to aee the drift of the nature of things—he held firmly to the view that he was right, and therefore the nature of things wrong. As lie left the poor old world, which he saw refusing to remain in the synthetic trap, he, with so much pains, built and set for It. he saw nothing ahead but collapse and ruin. IVhat a contrast with the pessimism of Mr. Spencer as he left the world. Is pre sented to us in the optimism of St. Paul as he left It! St. Paul saw things ns they were—far from what they ought tn be, but he saw back of them and be- peath them, not Inscrutable force, but the Almighty Qod, and he saw them gradually through the ages coming Into line with the Increasing and slowly culminating purpose of God, so he left the world happy, buoyant, victorious What a contrast between Herbert Spencer and Augustlpe! He saw the Roman empire falling Into ruin around him, but he saw also' the city of coming to take Us place, as well that of all other earthly empires be. cause back of all things, and nverrul Ing all things, he saw the Almighty God working to bring a new heaven and •. new earth In place of such as were perishing and passing. When the universe is reduced to terms of matter and force It becomes cheap, hpman life on its surface be. comes common and Omar Khayyam voices the sentiment of all who think when he says, "The end of life i« a skull and n few fallen rose leaves." Our highest worldly hopes are but snow on tbe desert's dusty face. Beauty Is a robe to be cast off as we pass into the dark, cold tomb, stilling our senses with popples. All Intellectual endearin' Is at last so many molderlng brains and so many fine-spun theories. t) n the face of every child one niav see hope, but In the face of every grown man he can read despair. • "We are no other than a moving row Of magic show-shapes that conn and go Round with this sun-lllumiped lantern held In midnight by the Master of (he show. Impotent pieces of the game he plays Upon this checker board of nights and days, Hither and thither moves, and checks and slaya, And one by one back In the closet lays.” And then the true philosophy of lift Is the old Epicurean conclusion, other wise expressed: "Some for the glories of this world, and some Sigh for the prophet’s paradise to coin*. All! take the cash. and> let the credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant drum.” 1 MY OL irrrvrn A * hin * hMrt riflht a* my hsart is a) CONrcDtRAIt: s? yhMrtT usissr !! 1 1 : j s i 4 | ] By REV. JOHN E. WHITE, PASTOR SECOND BAPTIST CHURCH — - — ... -- ) T HERE Is an old Confederate sol dier now passing. 70/ with Whom I have been communing of late Os one would with a rare visitor from another world, whose departure was near at hand. He represents In the judgment of his old comrades about as good as there was, and you know what that means. He differs In two slight respects from some of them. He didn't surrender at Appomattox. I once asked him why. "I didn't feel like It. I ex pect I felt about like Bill Arp's Oeor glan. who was slopped on bis return Southward In '65 and asked ‘where he was going and what he was going to do.' He said, 'I am going back tn Ban- dersvllle, kiss my wife and children, false a crop and If the Yankees bother me any " mure IH whip 'em again.' When things got to a point at Appo mattox It occurred to me that t hadn't done anything to surrender for. Be- aldes, 1 had a wound that nteddd a bet ter Climate than Fort Delaware, so 1 told Bob. my mess mate. If he would, lug the saddle I'd carry the blanket and we'd go home." My old Confederate brought back from Virginia Intact what he carried over there—an honest heart, a high moral purpose, a clean Bouthern soul, of which no disasters robbed him. The war did not sour him. He hasn't been a failure In life either. Another pecu liarity of his Is a pet conceit, that compels assent when he explains him- aslf, that for ths true Confederate sol dier who realised the deep things of that war there Is no such thing and never was, as "The lost cause." To put It In his phrase, "The Confederate sol dier Is the cosmopolitan of the moral universe, alike a comrade of all the world's poor and all Ole world's rich." If there are any poor he can say to them, "I am your equal, for I have lived deeolale amidst a great desola tion.” If there are any rich and proud he can say. "I, too, am your equal, for I have a heritage of valor and human glory purchased with more than millions." I never knew him to lower his flag of aversion to (he phrase, 'The lost cause" but once. I saw him throw down a newspaper not long ago In a biasing .wrath. He waa greatly stirred up. My Inquiry calmed hint Immediately. "Oh. well,” he said, "ths Boulh did not have a "lost cause" In 1865, but If some of these politicians nnd newspapers keep on the way they are going we will have one yet, nnd there won't he a place In the moral regard of mankind big enough for the Bouthern people to put one foot on." I didn't ask him what he meant. I can not begin ta tell you how this g rand old men has Interested me and elped ms. But, frankly, I stand In awe of him when I realise what he actually‘signifies. Sometimes when 1 have come from my books of history, on the war between the states I have to rub my eyes .to appreciate that he Is what I have been reading about. We young men do not grasp the his torical, dramatic fact of the Confeder ate soldier. We are letting our South ern herology slip through our fingers. Why, over In Europe you can see at any time great companies of people who have made pilgrimages from all over the world just to look at the spot where Some old knight of'Insignificant wars stood or Is burled. Do yeu realize when you are In the presence of an old Confederate soldier that you are there In eye reach and hand touch of a real flesh a'nd blood of man who not only lived In the moat terrific hours and minutes the American republic ever hnd or ever will have, but who was nt the hissing center of the vortex of it all, an actual actor .In scenes of su preme tragedy, that commanded the bretiThtes* atidlencc of all Christendom? ThOtTganiron pass on .the street with out a second look Is the Incarnate sur vivor of am experience that almost broke the nineteenth cpntury fnJwaln. My old Confederate Is uncomiclous of the Impression he makes on me. He has wounds he can not hide, but he never wears them for ornament. He tks of M|>0assq» and Gettysburg In calmest sort of way. There Is one Impression, however, the chance to make he never allows to go by. He loves the Southland. Old Mortality In Waller Hrott's book went about chip ping names off the tombstones. I think my old Confederate would like to go about cutting his faith and creed of the South on the heart of every youngster he coaid find. One day since our riot In Atlanta 1 called on him very much In earneit about seeing him. I wanted him. If he could, to give me out of hla chaatened life nnd hla mtmpry of the South's troubles some word that might be light, something that might guide us all who did not live then, but who do live now ond have a man’s part to bear In the South. I found him at his book case. That Is In Itself a quaint affair. It Is filled with hooks mnny of which we younger men do not know very well. They are olumes which relnte to the period rhen the South was the senlth star of all the constellations, when the South ern states were the largest moral and political nsaeta humanity had on the world's map, the hundred years of Washington, Hancock, Jefferson, Mar shall, Lee. Monroe, Madison, Henry, Macon, Crawford, Preston and Mc- Duffle, when the Southerners were a people regarding Democracy and lib erty whnt the Palestinians had been regarding religion and the Athenians had been regarding art and culture. When I Interrupted him he swept his hand along their serried titles with a senatorial dignity he has. "Here are some springs, my son," he said, "that your cotton lint and coal smoke ought never to choke. I am thinking," he added facetiously, of let ting them go to found a Southern clr- * 1 * * * * * * * minting library to save your tribe from* some of your flimsy foundations. But come, you have something. What Is It?" When we were seated I said: "Captain, I want to talk to you about myself." "Ah, a very grand subject, you think!" “No, I don't mean that. 1 want seri ously to ask you some things that do concern me personally and a great many others like me. I have the Idea that I suppose we all have that A Southern man If In some sense differ ent from others, that to be born In the South le a distinction of character, a peculiar pre-eminence. And I want to know what It Is and If It In any way exempts me from the standards by which men ore generally justly to be judged ?" His pause Indicated that he was en couraging me to get entirely through my speech. "I want to know that, and what I mean la 1 really want to know what Is a true Southerner?" "I was about to be amused at you,” he bfgnn. ''You appeared to be a bit over conscious. But I appreciate that you have some good reasons for per plexity. I do not care to discuss these recent and local events that I take are at the back of your trouble, except to say this, that the men who are In posi tions of leadership now nnd the people who think ninong ns, ought to read very carefully the history of the South'd council fires from 1840 to I860. I was here. I know the conflict of tempera and types. The same tempers and types, .only tfss naturally conservative and more Irresponsible In the mass, than then, are here now. "But you have come to a real point with your question. The Southerner Is different. His ancestry, history and environment have made him so. Still you are very wrong In your suggestion that he Is not subject to the same judg ments to which othsr men and other people are finally submitted. There la hut one Ob<1 and therefore but one Right. There Is but one Supreme Coda and therefore but one Justice. There Is neither geography, ethnology caste nor color In moral*.' (Veil, then," I put In’eagerly, "what am I bound to that ta peculiar to Southerners? What Ideala, or obliga tions are my criterion? The point with me to know If I can just how. I may be the truest, most loyal Southerner and man I can." His speech had been with such gravl- REV. JOHN E. WHITE. ty and slowness that I was watching narrowly everything he did ns well as listening keenly. It Is curious how much little things Impress us some times. He unconsciously had laid his hand with the mangling wound on the book he had taken do,wn as I came In. That wound was symbolic—the link between the past and the present. Wheif he began again his emphasis was sobering. “The truest, most loyal Southerner, you want to be? Then I will tell you what I know and It 'will be very simple. There is no hard and fast type, but there are certain Ideals of Southern character of an Intrinsic quality to which every, true Southerner will own allegiance. I speak of that ndklch Is fundamental. The historical Ideal of Southernera the love of fair'play. At tb« bottom that Is Justice. This Is the romantic basis of our civilisation,-the philosophy of much that characterises our life. It explains the' strong leaning tn the Democratic party—‘Equal privilege and no special favor.’ A Republican presi dent wins the South to hls champion ship of 'a square deal.’ The' old antl- roynllst spirit Is the later anti-monopo ly spirit In a new dress. Our over- exercised sensitiveness Is. I think, i survival In the South of an ancient re sentment against Injustice. It was our people, you know, who made the ear liest and most vehement protests against the mother country’s unfair ness to the colonies. At Mecklenberg and Philadelphia It waa our cry to the world against Imposition and In behalf of simple Justice. We are the fathers of that passion on this continent*. To be a true Southerner Is to stand on that rock always. He must follow that prin clplo wherever It leads him. He must be first of all, Just. He will not Impose upon the weak or allow others to. Re member this when Southern people see a human being wronged and do not champion bis cause or when they can be misled Into any course of Injustice and wrong against u human being, In short, when we fall In fair play we de part from what Is Intrinsic and true In Southern character. This Is the basis of Southern knighthood. When that goes the bottom falls out of our dis tinctive civilisation. "Now," he said, as he stood up for a moment, ‘‘that Is one Southern Ideal, but there Is another that we have even more consistently cherished. "The son of the South has an un common Inattnct of the claim his home has on him and this Ideal has extended Itself to cover his home-land. Tills Is, of course, no monopoly In the South, but It does mark us more definitely than other sections and peopls. I have Just been reading one of our critics, who says: ‘Provincialism Is the vice of the Southern character.' My son, we have to abide that soft Impeach ment. If it Is a vice it Is one of those vices that Is an exaggeration of a great virtue. We are Americans, Indeed the most typical Americans homogeneous ly on this continent, but our Ameri canism will never be of the kind that can say, without a reservation, 'No Ncfrth, no South, no Eaat, no West.' There Is for us a South. God created It. History has cibnflrmed It. Expe rience has sanctified It. It Is bound on the north by a broad river, on the east by a great ocean, on the south by a gulf and on the west by the two great est continental streams. About this South the lines of on Irrevocable decree which Is written Into our heart and Im agination nre drawn. It has entered Into our blood. It will remain—the South. As Scotland Is dearer to the Scotchman and Ireland to the Irlshnmn and Wales to the Welchman, these Southern states are a grand division of this earth's surface that will always be dearer to the Southerner than any other section on. the globe. It Is our home, our heritage. You must never get away from that If you want to be a true Southerner.” My old Confederate paused and seemed to be recalling something that was not quite clear. "I recall a picture,” he at once went on, "an old painting I used to see when a boy. It Is the picture of one of our earliest Southern settlements. The for est In front of the smalt clearing in the woods Is lined with savage Indians. The settler Is standing In the door of his cabin with a smoking rifle In his hand and a dauntless death-defying light Is In his face. His right hand Is extended backward In a gesture of protection to his wife and children, who are trembling In fright In the room behind him. I suppose," he smiled, "this Southern home love began back there. We have In the course of our torrowt simply enlarged the borders of our passion." He paused again reflectively. “I am recalling an experience of mine and trying 'to separate It distinctly from later thoughts. Ono night In Virginia, after 8tonewalt Jackson was killed at Chancellorsvllle, I was making on In spection of our picket lines, and some distance from our camp sat down. It was a beautiful night and the depres sion general at that time of loss came over me strongly. I began to analyse my seal as a Confederate soldier, said to myself. 'Are you lighting to de fend the Institution of slavery?' My heart yielded an Instant honest answer, 'No, God knows there Is no satisfaction In that Idea to me. If the slave proper ty was worth as many billions ns It Is millions and that wns all I would not move my little finger to go to war for Then the Idea of secession a» a constitutional right occurred to ms. It waa a right conserved by the consti tution in the understanding of those who formed It, a right more boisterous ly threatened and more agitated by Joslah Quincy, nt Massachusetts, nnd the Eastern statesmen, including the whole party of New England Federal ists, than by any one else In 1845.' But It was. a right never Intended to be exercised. It was a provision such as should be put Into any contract, for the statesmanlike purpose of guaran teeing the balance of mutual Inter state respect and not for the purpose of contemplated disunion. I recalled the message Alexander Hamilton sent from hit death bed, 'Tell the people nt Boston that I say for God's sake to quit trying to disrupt the Union. If they break this Union they will break m>‘ heart.* That was as far back as 1804. and I remembered that my father used to quote It to me In Ills own love for this republic. Secession was a-right, a guaranteed privilege under the con stitution. But I knew that this was not the Inspiration of my soldiering In Vir ginia. "At that moment of my introspection 1 happened to aft my syes up to ths stars and unconsciously glanced down the array of clustering constellations which fell away and away down the heavenly concave to the South, nnd my eyes rested there. Then my heart gave a leap; I stood on my feet. I hnd found the spring of my. Joy, In the bat tle. ‘My bnck Is to my home,* l said. •The enemy Is here on the border. I am In defense of Dixie land.' "My boy," he said, "I have told you the secret of every wound I bear. It Is the secret of niy comrades, who went with Lee. It nut our white chieftain's secret, too. So I tell you that the true Southerner will love his homeland and suffer for her good nnd for her glory If need be, no matter In what form the danger comes. With us It was our own American brothers who mime.-.against us. And though' you do not haye"— "But,” I cried trembling, with my heart shaken to. Its depths and not comprehending the Import of Ills last words, "I do.love my bom*,- I was born here. My fathers and my people are burled about me. I have scarcely been elsewhere. I know no other love like this land. What Is there .for me and for us? We can not nqw bear arms for the South. There Is no foe at our borders, no threat, no peril from without!” "But there arc perils from within,” he gently said. "The shock and dire strait are for you ns they were for us. Our South's sorrows are too great for one generation only. Your fathers at* sour grapes, your teeth are on edge. I will not be here to see the great moral struggle of Southern civilisation to tri umph over temptation and besetment. But get you ready for It. It Is at hand. You will have to find your own way.” He saw my depression, for Ills own mnnner and speech were gloomy. Com ing nenrer, he spoke a bit more cheeri ly; "One thing more I can say to you. When I nm gone and you. come to what I foresee, a ttme of doubt and confusion and low human counsels sro at the front and false voices are clam oring, I bid you week the sheltering manhood of a man who will never die In this land. In other days Ills presenre made us all better from- the heart out. I sometimes think he may yet mean more to the South than ever. Seek the counsel of his spirit, the sweet per suasion of his voice. He was copied after Jesus Christ the Son of God ond he was ft Southerner, tried and true, the bent shape of mortal hero-man any people ever had to mark by. Follow him and you will not go wrong." My old Confederate had grown quite calm and there was worship In hi* voice. He had spoken no name. My own heart waa stilled. It was the calm ness of a great Presence he had sum moned to stand beside me—the great white soul of the Houth—Robert E. Lee. >••••••••••••••••••••••« "KEEP SMILING” hmmhimhmhhiimmmmi IHMM4MI4MIHMIMHHI By REV. EVERETT DEAN ELLENWOOD, j PASTOR UNIVERSAL1ST CHURCH G UT at Piedmont park this week. In the exhibition hall of the • (Carriage Builders' National Association, were to be seen hundreds of persons wearing as badges or as hatbands small slips of cardboard bearing two very suggestive and sig nificant words, "Keep Smiling." i It was noticeable, too, that In nearly every In stance the wearers of these. badges were faithfully obeying the Injunction which they so prominently displayed. • The wealth of beautiful and powerful philosophy contained In this abbrevi ated sentence must appeal at once to any one who studies life from men more than from bpoks* A very Im portant feature of this national gath ering of enrriage builders Is the display of the products of the different mem bers for commercial purposes. It Is axiomatic In the business world that the smiling face and the cheerful man ner are absolutely essential to success. The. salesman most valuable to his employer ts the one who always seems to have an Inexhaustible supply of good humor and optimism, the one who be lieves in the tsuccess of his own right eous efforts, which manifests Itself, constantly, in his countenance. The world loves cheerfulness. The busi ness world demands 1t. The man with the perpetual “grouch" Is hopelessly handicapped. If you wish to succeed you must "keep smiling." What a pity It Is that we should oc casionally forget that this law ts oper ative In all of life and In all of Its relations. Too many people, cultivate a habit of cheerfulness “for business purposes only." and while apparently optimism Itself In the shop or store or factory, seem either unable or Indis posed to carry that cheerfulness be yond the threshold of their own homes. And yet they sometimes wonder why their society is not eagerly sought by normal men. i.’heerfulness does not depend upon circumstances. It Is a condition of mind possible of development any where and under all clrcumstnnces. Optimism Is nothing more or less than a habit of thought. Born of humility and strong faith In God, and constant ly fed.by unselfishness. It grows rap idly Into a power strong enough to make a happy and successful life In any environment. T^c morose ond unhappy disposition nearly always Indicates the self-cen tered life. Some people are predis posed to be disappointed. Here Is a homely little story which Illustrates the splendid possibilities of the cheerful habit of thought: A solitary horseman, traveling an unfrequented country road, and desir ing to learn the direction and distance to the town of his destination, reigned In his horse beside a field In which a half-grown hoy waged sturdy war with | a vigorous growth of weeds which con- tested the right of existence with a | sickly. Indifferent looking crop of corn, j In response to the traveler's, call the | boy pushed back from his face the I Happing rim of an immense straw hat, i and, wiping the sweat from his fore- ' head with the sleeve of his shirt, he i came toward the fence with rapid, j awkward strides. The traveler was a lover of men. and [ wns, withal, somewhat of a philoso pher. Also, It was not so long since he had himself been a boy. Therefore. It was not at all surprising that.hav ing secured satisfactory answers to hts practical questions, and desiring to know something of the hoy’s custom ary habit of thought, his method was that which would have made most suc cessful appeal to his own heart In boy- I hood's days. It was a typical midsum mer day. The same late afternoon sun which was the Joy of him who rode through alternate stretches of sunlit meadow and cool and shaded wood beat down relentlessly upon the back which was bent in unromatlc toll. From the trees along the creek which bordered the field on its farther side there came the clear, strident challenge of -the cat bird, strangely mingled with the low, soothing love notes of the turtle dove. The branches of the trees beckoned their welcome to their cool retreats. The Jtttle stream murmur ing at the stones w‘h!ch lay In Its bed whispered of shining trout waiting the; angler's craft. And the man. who, not REV. E. D. ELLENWOOD. long since had been a boy, knew full well tbe fierce tumult that raged 'neath that sweat-streaked "hickory" shfrt. He? too, felt strongly the.wild yearning which possessed the boy to fling that hoe, the symbol of his serfdom, Into the fence corner, and forthwith Join hls companions of the wood and the stream, the wild free things which recked not of code or convention. In an outpouring of the heart In adoration to Him who "glveth us richly all things to enjoy." With retrospective glance he swept field and wood and sky and then turned to the boy who still stood won dertngly In the Held below him. “This would be a mighty fine day to go Ash ing, now wouldn’t It?" he asked, tenta tively. The boy gave a quick indrawn breath and-fifs glance which had In stinctively sought the direction of the creek swept back across the field, rest ing for a moment upon the weeds hls hoe had uprooted, dying quickly In the sun’s Insistent heat. "Yes,” he said. "It sure would, but It’s a mighty good day to hoe corn, too." With wondering udmtratlon ine stranger changed his point of attack to that of this new Item of Interest. 'The cut-worms seem to have taken a good deal of your corn?" he remarked. ’ Yes," said the hoy, "so they have, but what there Is left will have more room and will make all the better crop because of It." Thoroughly Interested and amused, the man replied: “But all of your corn Is looking pretty yellow'. It seems to me." "Sure,” said the boy, "It Is bound to: we planted the yaller kind." "Well," said the stranger, laughingly. ’It does not look as though you would get more than half a crop from this field.’’ "We never eal’lated to get any more than that, stranger," cheerfully rejoined the boy, "’cause, you see, dad’s a-farmln' this here land on shares." The man shook hands with the boy, offering silent tribute of admiration and gratitude for hls abundance of that faith which Is powerful enough to re move mountains, and as he continued his trip he thus reflected In hls. mind: “Here Indeed Is a wonderful thing. I stopped by the way for a few moments, to have sport with an ignorant farm er’s lad, and lo! I have held helpful converse with a philosopher." And the boy. with one more lingering, long ing glance In the direction of the en ticing trout brook, settled flrmlv upon hls head once more hls Immense hat of straw', and, merrily whistling an an swer to the cat-bird’s call, broke ofT from a near-by stump a* splinter of wood with which he began to clean his hoe for n fresh onslaught upon that kingdom which, for the time, was hls alone to conquer. And the man was right. Not always Is It true that the men nnd women whom the world with remarkable In discrimination declares to be sages and philosophers, are the ones who have patiently sifted the chaff and wheat I of life s emotions and experiences, nnd have unerringly arrived At the "con clusion of the whole matter." The prophets of hope and cheer are not nl- w-ays those whose snowy locks would Indicate the possibility of the complete Justification of their faith by their wealth of experience. The smiling goddess of cheerfulness knows no .distinctions of rank or “ta- tlon among those who worship eagerly at her shrine. Nor does she show the slightest partiality In the distribution of her favors to the happy-hearted. The Individual who, through natural choice and not from politic necessity, Is able to “keep smiling,” Is always sure of a hearty welcome among hi* fellows, regardless of the cut of hi* clothes nnd the extent of his acquaint ance with the schools. Bul let it be remembered that op timism and buffoonery are b> no means synonymous terms. Many * man who prides himself upon hH cheerfulness and hls optimism I'* ' n reality only a fool. The rattle of an empty wagon Is not nearly so pleasing to the normal ear as the subdued hum ming of the honey-laden pirate of tn* meadow' and the hedgerow. The man who laughs the loudest at hls neigh bor’s coarse Joke Is not usually the one to be depended upon when some gre.it moral crisis threaten/* the bulwarks ’j civilization. The. woman whose silly cackle responds most readily to tne pitiful Inanities of so-called “polite Continued on Opposite Pas 9 *