e judge turned to the boy, and said: "This gentleman is a
successful business man. Do you think, if you are given this splendid
opportunity, you can make a man of yourself?"

"I'll try," very joyfully answered the boy.

"Very well; sign a recognizance, and go with the gentleman," said the
judge.

A few minutes later the boy and his new friend left together, while
tears of genuine pleasure stood in many eyes in the crowded
courtroom. The lawyer, who signs his name to the story, declares that
the boy turned out well, and proved to be worthy of his benefactor's
kindness.

Deeds like that are waiting for the doing on every hand, and no man
gives himself up to this spirit of helpfulness for others without
strengthening his own life.

This spirit of self-forgetfulness and cheerful helpfulness is and
essential quality of the true heroic soul--the soul that is not
disturbed by circumstances, but goes on its way, strong and imparting
strength.

We have to be on our guard against small troubles, which, by
encouraging, we are apt to magnify into great ones. Indeed, the chief
source of worry in the world is not real but imaginary evil--small
vexations and trivial afflictions. In the presence of a great sorrow,
all petty troubles disappear; but we are too ready to take some
cherished misery to our bosom, and to pet it here. Very often it is
the child of our fancy; and, forgetful of the many means of happiness
which lie within our reach, we indulge this spoiled child of ours
until it masters us. We shut the door against cheerfulness, and
surround ourselves with gloom. The habit gives a coloring to our
life. We grow querulous, moody and unsympathetic. Our conversation
becomes full of regrets. We are harsh in our judgment of others. We
are unsociable, and think everybody else is so. We make our breast a
store-house of pain, which we inflict upon ourselves as well as upon
others.

This disposition is encouraged by selfishness; indeed, it is, for the
most part, selfishness unmingled, without any admixture of sympathy
or consideration for the feelings of those about us. It is simply
willfulness in the wrong direction. It is willful, because it might
be avoided. Let the necessitarians argue as they may, freedom of will
and action is the possession of every man and woman. It is sometimes
our glory, and very often it is our shame; all depends upon the
manner in which it is used. We can choose to look at the bright side
of things o