ich diminishes the vitality of the sensitive nerve organisms, the
minuteness of which makes them visible to the eye only under a powerful
microscope. The 'worry,' the thought, the single idea grows upon one as
time goes on, until the worry victim cannot throw it off. Through this,
one set or area of cells is affected. The cells are intimately
connected, joined together by little fibres, and they in turn are in
close relationship with the cells of the other parts of the brain.

"Worry is itself a species of monomania. No mental attitude is more
disastrous to personal achievement, personal happiness, and personal
usefulness in the world, than worry and its twin brother, despondency.
The remedy for the evil lies in training the will to cast off cares and
seek a change of occupation, when the first warning is sounded by Nature
in intellectual lassitude. Relaxation is the certain foe of worry, and
'don't fret' one of the healthiest of maxims."

In a life of constant worrying, we are as much behind the times as if we
were to go back to use the first steam engines that wasted ninety per
cent. of the energy of the coal, instead of having an electric dynamo
that utilizes ninety per cent. of the power. Some people waste a large
percentage of their energy in fretting and stewing, in useless anxiety,
in scolding, in complaining about the weather and the perversity of
inanimate things. Others convert nearly all of their energy into power
and moral sunshine. He who has learned the true art of living will not
waste his energies in friction, which accomplishes nothing, but merely
grinds out the machinery of life.

It must be relegated to the debating societies to determine which is the
worse--A Nervous Man or

A WORRYING WOMAN.

"I'm awfully worried this morning," said one woman. "What is it?" "Why,
I thought of something to worry about last night, and now I can't
remember it."

A famous actress once said: "Worry is the foe of all beauty." She might
have added: "It is the foe to all health."

"It seems so heartless in me, if I do not worry about my children," said
one mother.

Women nurse their troubles, as they do their babies. "Troubles grow
larger," said Lady Holland, "by nursing."

The White Knight who carried about a mousetrap, lest he be troubled with
mice upon his journeys, was not unlike those who anticipate their
burdens.

"He grieves," says Seneca, "more than is necessary, who grieves b