If we fret about the weather it is because of an insistent desire that the
weather shall conform to our idea of its seasonableness. If we complain
of the chill of May it is not because the cold is really unbearable, but
because we wonder if spring will ever come. If we fume on a hot day in July
it is because the weather is altogether _too_ seasonable to suit us.

We spend far too much thought on the weather, a subject that really
deserves little attention except by those whose livelihood and safety
depend upon it. Suppose a runaway passes the window at which we are
sitting, with collar off, handkerchief to our heated brow, squirming to
escape our moist and clinging garments, and being generally miserable. We
rush out of doors to watch his course, and for the next few minutes we do
not know whether it is hot or cold, perspiring less during our exertions, I
strongly suspect, than we did while sitting in the chair. At all events, it
is obvious that our thoughts played quite as great a part in our discomfort
as did the heat of the day.

Suppose now, instead of devoting all our attention to the weather we should
reason somewhat as follows:

As long as I live on this particular planet, I shall be subject perhaps
three days out of four, to atmospheric conditions which do not suit me.
Is it worth my while to fret during those three days and to make it up by
being elated on the fourth? Why not occupy myself with something else and
leave the weather for those who have no other resource? Or, as someone has
said, why not "make friends with the weather?" If one will cultivate this
frame of mind he will be surprised to find that a certain physical relief
will follow. In the first place, he will lessen the excessive perspiration
which is the invariable accompaniment of fret, and which in its turn