note our weaknesses to remedy them, but we should not dwell upon them to the exclusion of thoughts upon our strength, which we must also take note of and make yet more strong. There is a type of religionist of the "I am a miserable sinner order who lashes himself with his own scorn and makes a god of his weakness, when he should ask forgiveness for his sins, and, having put them away, pray for strength to make life worthier. We may all be sinners, but we have no right to be miserable sinners, seeing that we have been given the birthright of the inspiring hope of an immortal life where all is lovely and perfect.

Some people who never go to church get the same effect by retiring into the secret chamber of the soul in their own homes. In our moments of solitude we should do this for the purpose of refreshing the mind with the tender and gracious thoughts that dwell in this holy of holies. So shall we gain grace for our souls and strength to conquer and endure. At such a time we should judge ourselves, and blame or praise according as we find ourselves worthy or unworthy. Some people are over-sensitive to the criticism of the world. The greatest figures in history have gone their way in the performance of their allotted tasks serenely unconscious of the opinions of others. Vituperation and flattery have affected them not at all. All they asked for was

the approval of their own conscience, the knowledge that they were doing right. Other people cannot judge you, they do not know the limitations of your temperament or of your mind. You, yourself, alone know these things, and you can praise yourself if you have done well and should blame yourself if you have fallen short of your powers, no matter how much others may praise you.

66

Those people who are depressed, who find the world hard and cruel and unlovely, are the folk who keep the chambers of their souls locked too often from themselves. They are afraid of its sadness and of its peace. They know it is washed with tears, but they forget that out of its pity is born love, out of love hope, and from hope life. Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest thought." Out of the sadness rise memories of happy days that are gone, giving promise of the happy days to come. The gentle melancholy of the days that are no more teaches us to find the beauty of the day that is here and of the days that are before us. Are these things sadder than the vicious and pessimistic thoughts that we admit in their stead? Should we welcome the

glorious promise of spring if there were no winter to hold the hidden wonders of the summer? Can there be perfect happiness without the experience of sorrow? The rain and the snow and the storms come in their appointed seasons, but the memory of

them fills the summer wind with a sweeter fragrance. Open the doorway of the soul every day. Let your thoughts wander in the solitudes of its chamber, to gather there strength and encouragement to cleanse them from the stains of worldly toil and temptation, and to find in its calm and tender peace a sure hope for the future that shall comfort and uphold you in all your doings.

CHAPTER XXVIII

MUSIC AND THE MIND

"There is music even in Beauty. There is a music wherever there is a harmony, order, or proportion; and thus far we may maintain the music of the spheres; for those well-ordered motions and regular paces, though they give no sound to the ear, yet to the understanding they strike a note most full of harmony.” SIR THOMAS BROWNE.

LTHOUGH music is primarily concerned with

ALT

the emotions, it has a decided mental value also. I remember once listening to a sermon by the late Dr. Dallinger, in which he opened up a line of thought that impressed me very forcibly. "The composer," he said in effect, "is a discoverer. He does not make the melody, for it is already made. All that he does is to find out the combinations of sounds and write down the symbols which represent them." The world is full of music. All the loveliest melodies you ever heard, and subtle harmonies you never dreamed of, are around you, though you cannot hear them. Sometimes you or some other person, by speaking or singing, or playing upon an instrument, cause the sound waves to vibrate, and then they are made audible.

The man who is in tune with Nature hears all sorts of melodies that others are deaf to. Every part of his being throbs in unison with the deep harmonies of the universe. The dawn sings to him of hope, the noon of endeavour, and the night of rest. When he sings for joy, he is responding to the chords touched in his being by the melodies he feels around him; and when he whistles to encourage himself, he summons from the forces of Nature the cheerful sounds that will react upon him and drive away fear and despair.

All around us are hidden forces we cannot understand. Some people are frightened by them, while others are encouraged. I have known many people with deep religious convictions to be terrified by the sound of thunder. Equally I have known persons who rarely go to church, who hear in the thunder the voice of the Creator. They are not terrified, because they reflect that the Being who speaks in such awe-inspiring accents made them and gave them dominion over the earth through the gift of mind, and they regard the fearful sounds merely as a manifestation of that Great Power upon which they can draw fully in their hour of need. Of course, the state of terror which many people experience during a thunderstorm is largely a physical condition due to the state of the atmosphere, but the mind can counteract the limita