f
blessing; and the soul comes into such an environment, not for the
purpose of being humiliated, but in order that its strength may be
developed, its sight clarified, and its powers perfected.

Thus we reach a rational basis for optimism. It has been said that
optimism must not only show that beneficent results are being
accomplished in human life, but it must also justify the means by which
such results are achieved. It is not enough to show that all will be
well in the end; it must be shown that even grief, pain, loss, and
death are ordained to be the servants of man. This is evident to all who
allow themselves to reach to the deeper meanings of their limitations
and sufferings.

Opposite conclusions have been reached by some of those who have studied
the hard and harsh phenomena of human life. The dreamy Hindu mind at
first seemed to discern the truth that suffering is but the under side
of blessing, and the hymns of the Vedas are full of hope and
anticipation of better times; but, under the stress of prolonged
disappointment and measureless calamities, bewildered in his attempt to
explain the mystery of suffering, the Hindu at last came to deny its
reality. But no bitter trials can be escaped by denial, and in India,
to-day, disappointment and calamity are no less frequent than in elder
ages. Refusal to believe in darkness effects no change in a midnight.
The negation of precipices makes the ascent of a mountain no easier,
and the denial of sickness, sorrow, and death deliver none from their
presence. On the other hand, the very rocks that are the most difficult
to scale will lift the climber toward an ampler horizon; and he who
places his feet upon his temptations and sorrows will see in his own
life the increasing purpose that widens with the suns.

Slowly, and over many obstacles, the soul rises from its humiliation and
presses toward the heights, and every forest passed and every mountain
scaled adds to its stature, to the swiftness of its advance, and to the
glory of its vision.

The teaching of Jesus concerning the ministry of the austere has greatly
changed the popular estimate of the value of many of the experiences
through which men pass. Sorrow, pain, and death were formerly regarded
as enemies, and only enemies, and they are still so regarded where the
full force of His message is either not welcomed or not understood. The
common opinion in many quarters, even to this day, is that suffering is
eithe