Men harness
themselves to the work and stress of the world in clumsy and unnatural
ways. The harness they put on is antiquated. A rough, ill-fitted
collar at the best, they make its strain and friction past enduring,
by placing it where the neck is most sensitive; and by mere continuous
irritation this sensitiveness increases until the whole nature is
quick and sore.
This is the origin, among other things, of a disease called
"touchiness"--a disease which, in spite of its innocent name, is one
of the gravest sources of restlessness in the world. Touchiness, when
it becomes chronic, is a morbid condition of the inward disposition.
It is self-love inflamed to the acute point; conceit, _with a
hair-trigger_. The cure is to shift the yoke to some other place; to
let men and things touch us through some new and perhaps as yet unused
part of our nature; to become meek and lowly in heart while the old
sensitiveness is becoming numb from want of use.
It is the beautiful work of Christianity everywhere to adjust the
burden of life to those who bear it, and them to it.
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