have, but you are mistaken. Pardon this bluntness. Surely you
are not so naive as to imagine that the road on the other side of
that hill there is more beautiful than the piece you are now
traversing! Hopes are never realized; for in the act of
realization they become something else. Ambitions may be attained,
but ambitions attained are rather like burnt coal, ninety per
cent. of the heat generated has gone up the chimney instead of
into the room. Nevertheless, indulge in hopes and ambitions,
which, though deceiving, are agreeable deceptions; let them cheat
you a little, a lot. But do not let them cheat you too much. This
that you are living now is life itself--it is much more life
itself than that which you will be living twenty years hence.
Grasp that truth. Dwell on it. Absorb it. Let it influence your
conduct, to the end that neither the present nor the future be
neglected. You search for happiness? Happiness is chiefly a matter
of temperament. It is exceedingly improbable that you will by
struggling gain more happiness than you already possess. In fine,
settle down at once into _life_. (Loud cheers.)

The cheers would of course be for the refreshments.

There is no doubt that the mass of the audience would consider that I
had missed my vocation, and ought to have been a caterer instead of a
preacher. But, once started, I would not be discouraged. I would keep
on, Sunday night after Sunday night. Our leading advertisers have
richly proved that the public will believe anything if they are told
of it often enough. I would practise iteration, always with
refreshments. In the result, it would dawn upon the corporate mind
that there was some glimmering of sense in my doctrine, and people
would at last begin to perceive the folly of neglecting to savour the
present, the folly of assuming that the future can be essentially
different from the present, the fatuity of dying before they have
begun to live.

V

MARRIAGE

THE DUTY OF IT

Every now and then it becomes necessary to deal faithfully with that
immortal type of person, the praiser of the past at the expense of the
present. I will not quote Horace, as by all the traditions of letters
I ought to do, because Horace, like the incurable trimmer that he was,
"hedged" on this question; and I do not admire him much either. The
praiser of the past has been very rife lately. He has told us that
pauperism and lunacy are mightil