The most striking characteristic of great men is their zeal for
work. None of them observed the eight-hour day, no matter what the
field of their activities. We may cite as examples great statesmen,
such as Napoleon or Louis XIV; great writers, such as Victor Hugo or
Lamartine; great artists, such as Michelangelo or Leonardo da Vinci;
great scientists, such as Lavoisier or Pasteur; great manufacturers,
such as Bessemer or Siemens. In truth, they often employed the most
varied ruses to protect their working periods from interruption.
Napoleon assembled his ministerial council during the soirees at the
Tuileries, leaving the reception of guests to the Empress Josephine.
Buffon took refuge in his country house and there peacefully wrote his
natural history. Descartes secreted himself in a little Dutch village
when he desired to cultivate his philosophical meditations. The labor
expended by celebrated men is sometimes greatly underestimated. Powers
of extemporaneous speaking far beyond reality are often ascribed to
great orators. As a matter of fact, the most successful of them write
out their addresses in full before delivering them. Mistaken notions
as to this have originated from false claims. Emile Zola pretended
that his voluminous literary output required only three hours’ daily
toil. Perhaps he did not actually keep the pen in his hand longer than
that, but the final wording comprises only a small part of literary
production.
Francisque Sarcey, while discussing the art of lecturing, very
judicially analyzed the importance of preliminary work. He said:
“The title of a lecture should be chosen a month in advance of the
delivery; then the subject matter should be considered for two weeks
during every free moment, especially while strolling about. By
degrees, new and interesting points of view will appear spontaneously;
these should be classified either in the memory or jotted down
systematically. During the third week, the material thus accumulated
should be gone over mentally, the less important points rejected or
suppressed, the others rearranged in their logical order and the
connecting thoughts brought to light. At last, during the fourth week,
the final wording is committed to paper and this requires no great
effort.”
Great men have not only labored much, but their efforts have been
confined to a few specialties, thus increasing the intensity of their
work. In hydrostatics a force is concentrated on a piston of small
area in order to produce great pressures. Saint Claire Deville devoted
half of his career to the study of dissociation. Berthelot worked
fifteen years on organic synthesis, fifteen years on thermo-chemistry
and fifteen years on agricultural chemistry. Many scientists owe
their fame to studies made in a single field as instanced by Pasteur
in microbiology, Fresnel with the theory of light, Ampere and the laws
of electrodynamics. The same holds true in industrial applications and
as examples we have Vicat and hydraulic cements or Fourneyron and the
turbine.
This concentration of effort cannot be recommended too highly to young
investigators, for they frequently exhibit an opposite tendency and
allow themselves to be enticed from one thing to another by topics
which appeal to them. Only men of exceptional endowments, like Leonardo
da Vinci or Lavoisier, can successfully distribute their efforts
without paralyzing their creative powers. Some scholars carry this
specialization of their endeavors to excess and pride themselves on
the extent to which they disregard the obligations of daily life. Many
stories in this vein are related of Ampere and of Henri Poincare. The
following actual occurrence illustrates the same point. I was invited
to dine with an illustrious foreigner and on arriving at the hotel
I was told by my host that his wife was ill and consequently she
could not dine with us. He said: “Under these conditions will you be
kind enough to order the dinner, for since I have never studied this
subject, I know nothing about such matters.”
It is not sufficient to work hard, but is also essential to work
efficiently, i. e., time must not be wasted on useless projects. A
plan of attack should be formulated in advance of starting the actual
work of writing, so that there need be no hesitation. Attempts to
do two things at the same time are usually fruitless, and it should
be matter of principle not to stop working until something definite
has been achieved. Learn to persevere and do not hesitate to adhere
to a decision made after proper reflection. It is this spirit of
organization, this convergence of efforts that is so highly manifested
by great political leaders such as Louvois, Napoleon, Cavour, Mussolini.
Much gain may accrue by organizing the vague, spontaneous thoughts
which the mind cannot suppress, even though they appear to have little
value. We are always thinking about something, and this involuntary
thought is much less fatiguing than mental effort consciously directed
toward definite production. This preparatory reflection is sometimes
erroneously regarded as being quite distinct from the real work, but
this opinion is quite wrong, for preliminary thought is an essential
forerunner of all creative achievement. In fact, it is just as
indispensable as the final effort and the latter will certainly be
of little avail if the way has not been properly prepared. If the
mind could be trained not to think useless thoughts, the productive
capacity would be enormously enhanced. When Newton was asked how he
had discovered the laws of universal attraction, he replied: “By
always thinking about them.” This may be the dominant reason for the
superiority of great men, but we really know very little about this
fugitive thinking, whose manifestations are not external. In fact,
the originators of such mental processes are sometimes not conscious
of their operation, or, as we say, we are here dealing with the
subconscious. Henri Poincare claimed that he thought during sleep, and
on waking would find at hand the solution of problems which had baffled
him the day before. However, this is not a commendable practice, for it
is opposed to the rest which each night’s sleep should bring.
How may a zeal for work be developed? Is it a natural gift or is it a
result of education? The greatest stimulant of activity is habit, which
proverbially becomes second nature. After leading an active life, it is
not possible to stop work without suffering. Idleness due to retirement
rapidly kills many men who previously had enjoyed excellent health.
After the habit of working is once formed, a man will work for the mere
joy of working just as we walk for the pleasure of the exercise. It has
become a necessity.
However, this habit is not easily acquired. Temperament plays some
part. Certain children, from birth on, exhibit more will power, have
more acute faculties of attention, are more persevering, all of which
are essential to the accomplishment of a protracted task. Yet these
predispositions are, in general, developed only to a slight degree and
play only a minor part in the differentiation of individuals. Other
factors seem to be of greater importance.
The example of the home and of companions exercises a preponderant
influence. A child who all his life has seen an industrious father will
merely through imitation be led to accept the law of the obligation to
work. Pascal, Lavoisier, Pasteur were raised in families in which honor
was paid to industry. Whether the latter is intellectual or manual
matters little. Very few, or perhaps no great men, have come from the
families of the idle rich.
A second very potent factor is ambition, that is the desire to acquire
riches or honors. Men not favored by the fortunes of birth sometimes
struggle with extreme energy to make a place for themselves. A
striking instance of the power of ambition is found in the career of
Senator Leopold Goirand, who died recently. He published some essays
on education which reveal curious points in his psychological makeup.
At the age of fifteen, he conceived the dual ambition to become very
rich and to attain a powerful political position. He succeeded in
both endeavors. For twenty years he forced himself to be content with
six hours of sleep each night in order to lengthen his working day.
Each morning on arising he spent two hours acquiring general culture,
the rest of the day was devoted to his business, and finally the
evenings were passed in attendance on social affairs, for the latter
are extremely useful in the prosecution of a career. Not until his
physician warned him that he was no longer fit to continue this program
did he consent to sleep eight hours nightly. Many similar examples may
be cited.
In Bessemer’s autobiography, which is a veritable romance, he tells of
his superhuman efforts, as a young man, to earn enough money to marry.
While Cavour was striving to create the Italian kingdom, he allowed
himself only five hours’ sleep each night so that he might have time
for the stupendous task whose realization had been the dream of his
whole life. He took over the direction of four ministries at one time.
A third stimulus, more noble than those already discussed, is the
attraction inherent in the fruits of labor, i. e., the joy of knowledge
and the pleasure of performance. The passion for knowledge or success
in a chosen field often arouses men who by temperament or habit might
have been inclined to loaf. A pertinent example is Mallard, one of the
scientific glories of France. Like many others who graduated from the
Ecole Polytechnique at the top of the class he seemed to be destined
for a standardized, peaceful career in the governmental service. As
engineer at Gueret and then as professor at Saint Etienne he divided
his activity between long journeys and everyday affairs, attending to
his ministrative duties and his teaching. At the age of forty he was
appointed professor of mineralogy in the School of Mines in Paris and
consequently because of his teaching duties he found himself obliged to
study this science. He became deeply interested in one of its branches,
crystallography, and for twenty years, until his death, all his efforts
were concentrated in this field. He succeeded in working out original
demonstrations of the laws of crystallography and he created a new
chapter in this field, the theory of crystalline groupings.
Many similar cases are found among scholars, for many of them are
motivated chiefly by the joy of knowledge. On the other hand, examples
of this disinterested activity are less frequent among industrialists.
However, the pleasure of achievement, rather than the mere love of
gain, has actuated the greatest of these. The optician Zeiss worked
for the glory of his country, Germany, and his native city, Jena.
The Danish brewer Jacobsen engaged in business only to gain the
means of endowing the museums and laboratories of Copenhagen, which
have become world famous. The American millionaire Carnegie while
a young man spent his free time in libraries solely because of his
desire to learn. He later devoted the major portion of his immense
wealth to the development of public libraries and to the founding of
an institute of scientific research. Henry Ford left the farm and
worked in a locksmith’s establishment because of a desire to learn
the use of tools, and even now he derives great pleasure from heading
a well-organized industry. I knew two contractors who had taken part
in the construction of the Suez Canal. They retired from business and
took up agriculture. One engaged in stock-raising, the other developed
a model farm. They devoted all their energies to the enterprises and
ran them so that the receipts and expenses balanced, neither profit nor
loss resulting. Their sole ambition was to do a good piece of work and
to turn out products of superior quality.
This joy in work may be developed by education and without difficulty.
Success is assured if less attention is given to preparing for
examinations and more stress laid on the intellectual molding of the
children. From their earliest years they have a wide-awake curiosity,
they continually ask why and how. Instead of eradicating this
disposition, it should be cultivated. Science courses lend themselves
wonderfully to this end. Emphasis should be placed on the linking
together of facts, which is the essence of the scientific method,
discarding the fastidious enumeration of isolated facts which so
overburden the memories of pupils today. Any child can be interested in
the consequences of Pascal’s laws of hydrostatics and made anxious to
work diligently to understand them. A study of Archimedes’ principle,
applied to floating bodies, of hydrometers, of water levels in
connecting vessels, of atmospheric pressure--all these may be grouped
around Pascal’s laws and thus made into an attractive ensemble. It
is wrong to treat each of these topics as a separate chapter as many
physics texts do, for then the intimate relationships disappear from
view and likewise all attractiveness is lost.
Manual exercises should be included in the secondary curriculum because
the formation of ideas in young people is rendered more easy and
pleasant by combining sight and touch. They love motion. For instance,
when teaching hydrostatics, the pupils may be directed to cut cubes
from various kinds of wood, to measure them, to weigh them and finally
to determine the loss in weight when the cubes are immersed in water.
An exercise of this kind makes the appreciation of Archimedes’
principle pleasurable. In the same way, preliminary exercises in
graphic plan-making lead to a much easier understanding of geometrical
reasoning. Much less intellectual effort is required to comprehend the
demonstration of a truth if actual experimentation has previously made
the reality familiar.
A final incentive to the ardor for work is good health. The thought
of working or still more of getting to work, i. e., the wish to do
something, involves, if not a true fatigue, at least a feeling of
fatigue which leads many to shrink back. A good digestion and restful
sleep make the thought of work much more agreeable. This does not imply
that a strong will cannot overcome the weakness arising from poor
health, for there are remarkable instances of such victories, but they
are rather exceptional. Pascal subdued his infirmities, but the strain
finally killed him. Health always is a great driving power, and the
truth of the axiom, “_mens sana in corpore sano_,” cannot be debated.
Physical culture should occupy an important place in the education of
the young; it is indispensable in the formation of the intellectual
elite of a nation. However, it must not be forgotten that muscular
fatigue renders all mental labor impossible for the time being. The
physical exercise should follow intellectual exertion, but should never
precede. While in Holland, Descartes devoted his mornings to philosophy
and cultivated his garden in the afternoons.