A little incident taught the writer a helpful lesson and made such a deep impression upon him that he will not soon forget it. One morning he looked out of the window and an imposing and inspiring picture greeted the eye. Scarcely a mile distant, as it seemed, was the snow-capped summit of Pike's Peak. In the clear, crisp atmosphere of a February morning the bold, rugged outlines of the lofty mountain were so plainly visible that the thought of distance was almost annihilated. It seemed that a few minutes' walk would bring one to the base of the mountain and then it would be no difficult task to reach the highest point. The writer had never been to the summit, but he had been to the foot of the mountain, and reason, born of experience, quickly convinced him that the task could not be accomplished with such apparent ease. The actual distance to its base was several miles, and after this distance had been covered there would yet remain the longer and more difficult part of the journey.
The lesson was this, that many times in solving the problems of life, results are not achieved as easily or as quickly as it at first seemed they would be. Unseen difficulties are sometimes in the way, the distance is greater, and frequently the work to be done is more arduous than was supposed. The goal is desirable, the prospects are bright, and hope is quickened; but how great the burden which must be borne before success is achieved, is not always realized. Many failures are due to the fact that when obstacles are encountered, which before were invisible, and it becomes evident that success is not to be so easily attained as was thought, discouragement is allowed to come in and cripple endeavor. In any undertaking success is achieved only when all the steps leading thereto have been taken. When the traveler catches his first glimpse of the mountains, especially if he is crossing the rolling prairies of the West, he is greatly surprised when he is told that the lofty peaks which he considers to be not more than five or ten miles distant are at least fifty or sixty miles away, and he says, "It cannot be."
Let us suppose that he decides to go to the summit of one of the mountains which seems nearest at hand. He begins the journey in earnest, confident that it will be of short duration. An hour passes, and much to his surprise the mountain seems as far away as when he started. Reason, however, tells him that he must of necessity be nearer than he was. Another hour passes, and still the end of the journey seems no nearer; the mountain seems to recede before him. He knows, however, that this cannot be, and when he turns his gaze backward and looks toward the point from which he started, he knows he is gaining ground. The time allotted to reach the foot of the mountain has long since passed, and still he presses on. He is now fully awake to the fact that the task is not as easy as he at first supposed, but he yields not to discouragement, for he knows that each step brings him that much nearer the end of the journey. To his surprise he finds rivers to cross and other hindrances to his progress which he little dreamed were there when he decided to enter upon his self-imposed task; but faithfulness is rewarded, and he finally reaches the foot of the mountain. It would seem that he had learned his lesson and would no longer judge "according to the appearances," but not so. He congratulates himself that he has almost reached the goal. In fancy he sees himself going straight up the mountain until he reaches the summit. So soon has he forgotten that "things are not what they seem."
