VII

_The Circumstances of Life_





IT is not the circumstances of life that trouble or weigh upon us,
it is the way we take them. If a man is playing a difficult game of
chess, the more intricate the moves the more thoughtfully he looks
over his own and his opponent's men, and the more fully he is
aroused to make the right move toward a checkmate. If, when the game
became difficult, the player stopped to be depressed and
disheartened, his opponent would probably always checkmate him;
whereas, in most cases, the more difficult the game the more
thoroughly the players are aroused to do their best, and a difficult
game is invariably a good one,--the winner and the loser both feel
it to be so,--even though the loser may regret his loss. But--the
reader will say--a game of chess is a game only,--neither one's
bread and butter nor one's life depend upon winning or losing it.
If, however, we need to be cool and quiet and trustful for a game,
which is merely an amusement, and if we play the game better for
being cool and quiet and trustful, why is not a quiet steadiness in
wrestling with the circumstances of life itself just as necessary,
not only that we may meet the particular problem of the moment
truly, but that we may gain all the experience which may be helpful
in meeting other difficult circumstances as they present themselves.

We must first convince ourselves thoroughly of the truth that