If one is to worry about all the things that went wrong--all the things that didn't come right--in the past; if he has to take out each memory every day, and after carefully dusting it off, fondle and caress it, and hug it close to his bosom; if he has to raise up these ghosts from the past--these phantoms of long ago--these musty, moth-eaten things--why he will have no time for the affairs of to-day. He will lose all the joy of the now--all the pleasure of life of the moment--all the interest in the things of to-day. Oh, dear, dear, what's the use? Forget it--forget it. Some people are not happy unless they have some old faded sorrow hugged up close to their bosoms, and they feel guilty if they happen to smile and forget the old thing for even a moment. Oh, how they do gloat over their own revamped unhappiness--how they enjoy the relieving of the pains and sorrows, mistakes and ignorance of years gone by. How they love to hold the fox to their sides and let it eat out their heart. These people are really happy in the unhappiness, and life would not be worth living if they were deprived of their pet sorrows. Of course, if these people are really happy because they are unhappy, I have no objection. Every man or woman has the right to pursue happiness in his or her own way, and I suppose that that is as good a way as any other, and I should not find fault if somebody else's way is different from mine. But doesn't it seem like a pity to see people wasting their time, energy, thoughts and life on these old sorrows? If they must think of the past, why not think of the bright things that came into their lives, instead of the dark ones? Think of the moments of happiness, not of the moments of sorrow. Don't make a tomb of your mind. Don't let that particular painful experience poison your present life. Don't do it--don't do it. What's the use? Forget it.