To question or to regret the inevitable seems to the emancipated mind the greatest folly imaginable. It certainly is as foolish as barking at the moon. [Sidenote: "Sweet Sorrow"] "Sweet sorrow" must not be classed with the depressing passions. It is the tenderest expression of love. If tears of love or of sympathy spring to the eyes, do not repress them; do not be ashamed of them; they are like dew from Heaven and promote the growth of the soul. Neither must friendly rivalry, nor ambition to excel, be classed as aggressions; as they are phases of growth. [Sidenote: Blesses or Curses] The disposition of the Emancipated is to switch the current of the Divine Spark (which is the energy of man) on to wires that connect with motors belted to good acts, and good thoughts, and worthy appreciation, and to cut out the circuits of worry and anger and their branch lines entirely, leaving them to rust and decay through disuse. It is a matter of voluntary selection. The same effort of thought can be made to bless or to curse; can stimulate to good or stimulate to bad; can propel or retard; can aid or obstruct; can nourish or kill. [Sidenote: Perfection is Divinity] Nature uses the same atoms to perform many services of widely differing purpose. Where she is inanimate the blind and dumb law of the "survival of the fittest" rules supreme. In her lowest forms of life this law begins to be modified by selection, and protection from without. In the higher forms of animal life memory, and selection, and division of labor, and provision, and gratitude, show a degree of development that is beautiful indeed; but it is left to man to perfect this development within himself. To him is given the power, through cultivation, to promote, without limit, growth towards Perfection, which is the evidence of Divinity in him. Soft mist, down-falling, from its cloud domain, Bathes all the thirsty land with gentle rain; Again, to Heaven ascends, by sunbeams wooed, Then plunges back to earth in torrent mood. As gentle rain it swells the softening seed; In torrent force, it wrecks with demon greed; Now, like the radiance of a loving heart; Now, like the scorching of a lightning dart. The self-same atom, hidden in a tear. May shine with love, or note a potent fear; When bound to others form the flintiest stone; Or, floating freely, bear the subtlest tone. Thoughts are like atoms, fashioned by the will; Each has a mission, charged with good or ill; Sometimes to bless; anon to desolate; Love's messenger; or harbinger of hate. In Nature's hands, one atom plays two parts, As may be needed in her several arts; In man alone, should love forever shine; Displacing hate; proclaiming man Divine.