2.GLES É a cere mang for alment a Artance with the moje ere is buen de the It a 2 andı.n; Ide PAZ. avtuning wetmats ir drinking s A man who care for nothing but stinn has a mind law a big, which EGIONS Berything and returns nothing. He is the unpr.ftabe vervant was hoss his talent in a napkin; he is too lazy to tue toutan make we of it; all he cares for is tranquility - it is not talent that men lack," says Bulwer Lytton, "it is the way kur; it is purpose, not the power to produce." Those who fall are mere withers; the who succeed are willers. "The books that help us most," says Theodore Parker, “are those that maxe us think most.” only those of the masters have it. but novels, none of them have this into thought. He lives in the dreams of other people, and has none of his own. Few novels have this power; To him who reads nothing power; he is never stirred It is by mental work that one acquires power: it is by making substantial acquirements in those studies that require exertion: in the mathematics, the languages, the sciences, history, and general literature; it is in working out hard problems and mastering the principles of any art or science that the mind gains power. A fondness for work is one of the indications of genius. There never lived a man of genius who was not characterized by a love of study. Study is the very life of his soul, that by which he lives. "The few books that came within his reach," says Garfield, speaking of Lincoln, "he devoured with the divine hunger of genius." This "divine hunger" I set down among the surest marks of genius. Except actual performance of work of superior character, there is no surer indication than this. It is the hidden germ struggling for light, life, and expansion; and these it will reach, unless some untoward accident kill it. He who does not care for study proves by this very circumstance that he has no genius. He is made for other things. I have just read of a poor girl who, because she risked her life in saving a passenger train, was sent to a first-class school in Massachusetts, where for two years the best teachers tried to train and develop her intellect. All in vain. Having no taste for study, she was beyond their reach. She had no intellect to train. Some are born for the kitchen as surely as others are born for the cabinet. A woman may be a heroine, and yet possess but a small share of intellectual power. Wherever I find one eager and thirsting for knowledge, ambitious to excel and to make the most of his powers-wherever I find one who considers the world beautiful, interesting, and worth studying, always busy in observing the workings of nature, and in reflecting on what is going on around him, never for a moment finding time weary or thinking of such a thing as "killing time "-wherever I find one who, in the words of Milton, is "inflamed with the love of learning and the admiration of virtue, stirred up with high hopes of living to be a brave man and worthy citizen"; or, in the words of Byron, following "The noble aspirations of his youth, To make his own the minds of other men, I feel confident that such a man, whatever his station or parentage, possesses genius, and that nothing but time and opportunity are required to enable him to display it. His genius may, like a grain of mustard seed, be hardly perceptible at first; but, like the mustard seed, it will develop under a genial sky, and spread out larger than any other plant of the field. We often hear people advising young men to seek the society of superior people, men of ability and culture. But it is of no use for them to seek such society if they do not feel any inclination for it; it is vain for them to seek it at the bidding of others. They would neither get nor give any benefit in such society. If the power is in them they will naturally gravitate toward such society, or draw it to them, just as a man of genius naturally gravitates toward those books that contain "the best that has been thought and said in the world." For genius will aspire, will improve, will rise in spite of every obstacle. Study, thought, ideas, these are its life; and wherever men of culture and ideas come together, there it finds itself at home. Das Gleiche kann nur vom Gleichen erkannt werden. And if it fail at first, it will keep on until it succeeds. Lord Chesterfield, who became the type of a fine gentleman, tells how awkward, silent, and shy he felt on first entering good society. After sitting dumb as a post for a long while, he plucked up courage enough to say to one of the noble ladies, "It is a fine day." "Yes, indeed it is,” replied the lady, with a smile and a kindly look; and she went on conversing with him until he gradually lost his shyness and talked with ease. This was the beginning of the man who became the most polished and accomplished gentleman in Europe. Even Henry Ward Beecher, who, of all men, seemed to have most liberty before an audience, was timid and uneasy at times. "Many a time," says his wife, "when going to speak on a subject of special interest which I greatly desired to hear, he would say, 'Oh! don't go! I am sure I am going to fail, and I don't want you to be present.' For several years I yielded to such a request, and, anxious and troubled lest he should fail, awaited his return. But he invariably came home cheerful, and would say, ‘I had great liberty; now I wish you had gone. The audience appeared greatly interested and very appreciative. They gave me great comfort and courage'; and he would appear happy and surprised. As I came to understand his moods better, I no longer feared any failure." It is the same in other fields. "It is in me, and it will out," said Sheridan, on failing in his first effort to make a speech. "You will not listen to me," said Benjamin Disraeli to the House of Commons, on a similar occasion; "but the time will come when you shall listen to me." And each made his word good. Both these men of genius determined to go on studying and practicing until they succeeded. They knew that the power was in them; that success depended on themselves; and they were determined to leave nothing undone to secure it. Charles O'Conor said it would have made no difference what profession he had adopted; he would have attained about the same relative success in any profession. Daudet declares that the man who has it in him to write will do so whatever his difficulties may be. He said to those who came to consult with him: "However occupied you are with your present way of earning a livelihood, you will surely find time to write, if you have it in you to say anything." CHARACTER-BUILDING Keep a Good Heart By THOMAS À KEMPIS [Thomas Hammerkin, known by the name of Thomas à Kempis, was born in 1379 or 1380 in the town of Kempen, near Düsseldorf. His father was a poor peasant and his mother kept a school for young children of the town. He went to Deventer at the age of twelve and entered the classes of Florentius Radewyn. Here he was called Thomas from Kempen, and thus the family name became lost sight of. He liked books and a retired life, and, when convictions of sin and visions of God's grace came to him in the fashion of mediæval times, he was advised to adopt a monk's life. Accordingly he went to Zwolle, to the convent of Mount St. Agnes, and joined the Augustinian order in 1399. He professed the vows in 1407, received priest's orders in 1413, became sub-prior in 1425, earning money for the convent by most assiduous labors as a copyist of missals, books of devotion, and a famous MS. Bible. He produced a large amount of original writing, mostly relating to convent life; also a chronicle of the monastery and several biographies. Besides these are three collections of sermons, some letters, hymns, and the "Imitatio Christi," a book that, next to the Bible, has been said to have had a larger number of readers than any other. He lived in the quiet of monastic life, untouched by the troubles of the times, and even unaware of the humdrum village life at the gates of the monastery. He died August 8, 1471.] Y son, patience and humility in adversities are more pleasing to Me than much comfort and devotion when things go well. Why art thou so grieved for every little matter spoken against thee? Although it had been much more, thou oughtest not to have been moved. But now let it pass: It is not the first that hath happened, nor is it anything new; neither shall it be the last, if thou live long. Thou art courageous enough, so long as nothing adverse befalleth thee. |