ng grief is to share
it in the heart, how must a sufferer feel, consoled in this fashion?

To divert our neighbor, make him pass an agreeable hour, we set out in
the same way. We invite him to admire our versatility, to laugh at our
wit, to frequent our house, to sit at our table; through it all, our
desire to shine breaks forth. Sometimes, also, with a patron's
prodigality, we offer him the beneficence of a public entertainment of
our own choosing, unless we ask him to find amusement at our home, as we
sometimes do to make up a party at cards, with the _arriere-pensee_ of
exploiting him to our own profit. Do you think it the height of
pleasure for others to admire us, to admit our superiority, and to act
as our tools? Is there anything in the world so disgusting as to feel
one's self patronized, made capital of, enrolled in a claque? To give
pleasure to others and take it ourselves, we have to begin by removing
the ego, which is hateful, and then keep it in chains as long as the
diversions last. There is no worse kill-joy than the ego. We must be
good children, sweet and kind, button our coats over our medals and
titles, and with our whole heart put ourselves at the disposal of
others.

Let us sometimes live--be it only for an hour, and though we must lay
all else aside--to make others smile. The sacrifice is only in
appearance; no one finds more pleasure for himself than he who knows
how, without ostentation, to give himself that he may procure for those
around him a moment of forgetfulness and happiness.

When shall we be so simply and truly _men_ as not to obtrude our
personal business and distresses upon the people we meet socially? May
we not forget for an hour our pretensions, our strife, our distributions
into sets and cliques--in short, our "parts," and become as children
once more, to laugh again that good laugh which does so much to make the
world better?

* * * * *

Here I feel drawn to speak of something very particular, and in so doing
to offer my well-disposed readers an opportunity to go about a splendid
business. I want to call their attention to several classes of people
seldom thought of with reference to their pleasures.

It is understood that a broom serves only to sweep, a watering-pot to
water plants, a coffee-mill to grind coffee, and likewise it is supposed
that a nurse is designed only to care for the sick, a professor to
teach, a priest to preach, bury, and confe