The Brookhaven Ledger

The fireside
The Use of Pain.

The power which rules the universe, this great, tender power, uses pain as a signal of danger. Just, generous, beautiful nature never strikes a foul blow; never attacks us behind our backs; never digs pitfalls or lays ambuscades; never wears a smile upon her face when there is vengeance in her heart. Patiently she teaches us her laws, plainly she writes her warnings, tenderly she graduates their force. Long before the fierce, red, danger light of pain is flashed she pleads with us—as though for her own sake, not ours—to be merciful to ourselves and each other. She makes the overworked brain to wander from the subject of its labors. She turns the over-indulged body against the delights of yesterday. This is her caution signal, "Go slow." She stands in the filthy courts and alleys that we pass daily, and beckons us to enter and realize with our senses what we allow to exist in the midst of the culture of which we brag.

And what do we do ourselves? We ply whip and spur on the jaded brain as though it were a jibing horse—force it back into the road which leads to madness, and go on full gallop. We drug the rebellious body with stimulants, we hide the original and think we have escaped the danger, and are very festive before night. We turn aside, as the Pharisee did of old, and pass on the other side with our handkerchief to our nose. At last having broken nature's laws and disregarded her warnings, forth she comes—drums beating, colors flying—right in front, to punish us. Then we go down on our knees and whimper about it having pleased God Almighty to send this affliction upon us, and we pray Him to work a miracle in order to reverse the natural consequences of our disobedience, or save us from the trouble of doing our duty. In other words, we put our fingers in the fire and pray it will not hurt.