THAT UNKNOWN QUANTITYHAPPINESS.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LXXVI, Issue 9511, 5 September 1891, Page 2

THAT UNKNOWN QUANTITY — HAPPINESS.

Euclid might have achieved a greater fame than he now holds, had he propounded this problem—** Given a straight line, find happiness.” And then all the world would have thought itself into a bald and unconvincing condition in trying to solve the problem. Possibly the eminent geometrician did state this proposition in his last books, but these were burned in the conflagration of an ancient library, and we have not time just now to rakef over thfc debris. For all that, mankind, very beginning of the world, has tacitly set himself to solve the problem, and has barely succeeded until the capacity for enjoying his knowledge bad been buried with his forgotten years, and disregarded opportunities. So then, logically with the foregoing, man ia happy only when he is unconscious of his happiness. Happiness is mostly a question of health, which again is the wellbeing of organs, which the owner is hardly conscious of possessing. The best news is the world will not make a hypochondriac dance, nor a rheumatic martyr sing-the effect on his mind is joyous, but the mental joy is counteracted by the material misery, flow many men have we seen praying for death—a visitor terrible even in the most alluring form, and clad in the most peaceful garb, because everything they have used has failed, and they think that noth-; ing can he done to save them from impending death? They read this, or are advised by friends to test the sterling virtues of Warner’s Safe Cure. They do so, and in a few weeks the sallowness of the invalid has vanished, and the pink of health is being forced into their cheeks. Well it is happiness to see those respited prisoners enjoying their newiy-obtained health, it is happiness to-them and to you if you have a heart for the troubles of' other men. William Hill, a railway gatekeeper at St Arnaud (Vic.), was in such a state of living death; and to his happiness on regaining health, let his own words testify. Here is his' letter: Dead but tet Alive. St Arnaud, Victoria—l was a martyr to chronic gout for a term of 34 years, during which time I spent over two thousand pounds on different doctors, having to pay £3 and £4 a visit in the early days of the Colony. I also tried change of air in different parts of the Colony, hut never got any permanent relief. I was given up on several occasions by the doctor, and once he told my wife I could not possibly live till the morning. I have been confined to my bed-over 29 months, part of the time quite insensible, hut in spite of all I managed to live on in misery to myself and everyone about me —dead b’.ib yet alive. It was during this critical time my wife read of some wonderful cures by the use of Warner’s safe cure, and was determined I should try it as a last resource. The doctor at this time had given me up, and said he could do nothing for me. I began the use of safe cure, having to pay five shillings and sixpence per bottle. But money was no object where life was concerned. After a few weeks I was able to sit up, and continued to improve. I continued its use until I have taken thirty or forty bottles of Warner’s safe cure and several vials of Warner’s s? le pills. lam now able to get about and enjoy life once more. I am sixty-seven years of age. My friends tell me I must have an iron constitution, but I tell them it ia owing to Warner’s sate cure, and I shall never cease to be grateful for the benefits I derived from its use.— William Hill, gatekeeper on the railway. What further proof is desired ?