biggest proposition put up to him.

When the power of thought is understood, there will be a change in our
newspapers. Now the tendency is to ignore the good in life and
underline the evil in red ink. If a man commits a theft, it will make
a newspaper story, bought and paid for at regular rates. If it is a
very big steal, you may wire it in and get telegraphic rates. If the
thief shoots a man, too, send along his picture and you may make the
story two columns. If he shoots two or three people, you may give him
the whole front page, and somebody will write a book about him. It
will sell, too. How much more wholesome would our newspapers be, if
they published the good deeds of men and women rather than their
misdoings. Why should not as much space be given to the man who saves
a life, as is given to the man who takes a life? Why not let us hear
more of the boy who went right, rather than of the one who went wrong?
I remember once reading an obscure little paragraph about a man who
every year a few days before Christmas sent twenty-five dollars to the
Postal Department at Ottawa, to pay the deficit on Christmas parcels
which were held up for insufficient postage. Such a thoughtful act of
Christian charity should have been given a place on the front page, for
in the words of Jennie Allen: "Life ain't any too full of nice little
surprises like that." Why should people enjoy the contemplation of
evil rather than good? Is it because it makes their own little
contribution of respectability seem larger by comparison?

We have missed a great deal of the joy of life by taking ourselves too
seriously. We exaggerate our own importance, and so if the honor or
distinction or the vote of thanks does not come our way, we are hurt!
Then, too, we live in an atmosphere of dread and fear--we fear poverty
and hard work--we fear the newspapers and the neighbors, and fear is
hell!

When you begin to feel all fussed up, worried, and cross, frayed at the
edges, and down at the heel--go out and look up at the stars. They are
so serene, detached, and uncaring! Calmly shining down upon us they
rebuke the fussiness of our little souls, and tell us to cheer up, for
our little affairs do not much matter anyway.

The earthly hope men set their hearts upon
Turns ashes, or it prospers--and anon
Like snow upon the desert's arid face,
Cooling a little hour or two--is gone!

It is a great mistake for us to mistake ourselves fo