happiness,--it enlarges our moral nature too. Beauty calms our
restlessness and dispels our cares. Go into the fields or the woods,
spend a summer day by the sea or the mountains, and all your little
perplexities and anxieties vanish. Listen to sweet music, and your
foolish fears and petty jealousies pass away. The beauty of the world
helps us to seek and find the beauty of goodness.
The love of the beautiful is an unfailing source of happiness. In his
brief life, Regnault, the great painter, had more genuine enjoyment than
a score of men of duller perceptions. He had cultivated his sense of
color and proportion until nothing beautiful escaped his eye. If we are
to enjoy the beauty about us, there is need of similar _preparation_.
What we get out of communion with the beauty of nature or art, depends
largely on what we bring to that communion. We must make ourselves
sensitive to beauty, or else the charms of form and color and graceful
motion and sweet music will be unheeded or unappreciated. It is also
true, as Lowell said:
"Thou seest no beauty save thou make it first;
Man, woman, nature, each is but a glass
In which man sees the image of himself."
ALFRED TENNYSON.
Alfred Tennyson, England's greatest modern poet, was a devoted lover of
the beautiful from the very beginning of his career. The earliest verses
he composed, which were written upon his slate when but a child of seven
or eight years of age, had for their subject, "The Flowers in the
Garden." As a dreamy boy, he loved to throw himself upon the grass and
listen to the bird voices in the adjoining thicket, or to the lowing of
the cattle as they stood knee-deep in the glittering waters of the river
shallows which lay about his home.
How close an observer he became, even as a lad, is clearly shown in
these lines, written as he lay under a tree, listening to the music of
the birds:
"The creeping mosses and clambering weeds,
And the willow branches hoar and dank,
And the wavy swell of the soughing reeds,
And the wave-worn horns of the echoing bank,
And the silvery marish flowers that throng
The desolate creeks and pools among,
Were flooded over with eddying song."
He became so thoroughly acquainted with the various orders of vegetation
with which his native land is clothed, and which mark the progress of
the growth and development of plant and flower, that there is scarcely a
false note in his music from first to last. His pictures of animal life
are drawn in vivid master strokes, and are as notable for their
correctness as for their grace. While we cannot speak of him as an
astronomer, yet no one can read his verses without admitting that he was
a close observer of the starry heavens. We could not rightly give him an
equal place with Shelley as a painter of cloud-scenery, yet we know how
he loved to lie on his back on the Down of Farringford and watch for
hours the swiftly-moving and rapidly-changing panorama of the midday
heavens. It was his chiefest joy to dream away his peaceful days among
the trees and brooks and flowers. He sometimes spent weeks at a time in
the open air wandering for miles in meditative silence along the banks
of some sparkling stream, or over the sand and shingle that form the
dividing line between the land and sea.
His pictures are photographic in their fidelity, and yet, in them all,
the outbursting life and movement of nature is carefully preserved.
They cover the widest possible field; dealing with the cloud and
sunshine, the storm wind and the zephyr, the roaring of the ocean surge
and the murmuring of the running brook, the crashing of the thunder peal
and the whisper of the pine-trees. The fields and the hedgerows, the
flowers and the grasses, the darkness and the dawn; all are exhibited
under every possible shade of variation. His studies of the beautiful
are as broad and true to life as any that have ever been written. So
sensitive was his soul to these outward impressions of beauty that even
those acquired in childhood never entirely passed out of his mind.
[Footnote: On Tennyson, see Dixon's "Tennyson Primer" (New York, 1896);
Van Dyke's "Poetry of Tennyson" (New York, 1894); Tainsh's "A Study of
Tennyson" (New York, 1893), and Tennyson's Poems.]
VIII.
THE LOYE OF KNOWLEDGE.
MEMORY GEMS.
Knowledge is the eye of the soul.--T. Watson
Common sense is knowledge of common things.--M. C. Peters
It is noble to seek truth, and it is beautiful to find it.
--Sydney Smith
It has cost many a man life or fortune for not knowing what he thought
he was sure of.--J. Staples White
The desire of knowledge, like the thirst of riches, increases ever with
the acquisition of it.--Sterne
It has been well said that "Nothing is so costly as ignorance. You sow
the wrong seed, you plant the wrong field, you build with the wrong
timber, you buy the wrong ticket, you take the wrong train, you settle
in the wrong locality, or you take the wrong medicine--and no money can
make good your mistake."
The knowledge attained by any man appears to be a poor thing to boast
of, since there is no condition or situation in which he may be placed
without feeling or perceiving that there is something or other which he
knows little or nothing about. A man can scarcely open his eyes or turn
his head without being able to convince himself of this truth. And yet,
without a fair working knowledge of the ordinary affairs of life, every
man is, in some respects, as helpless as a child. Indeed there is no
kind of knowledge which, in the hands of the diligent and skillful, may
not be turned to good account. Honey exudes from all flowers, the bitter
not excepted, but the bee knows how to extract it, and, by this
knowledge, succeeds in providing for all its needs.
Learning is like a river. At its first rising the river is small and
easily viewed, but as it flows onward it increases in breadth and depth,
being fed by a thousand smaller streams flowing into it on either side,
until at length it pours its mighty torrent into the ocean. So learning,
which seems so small to us at the beginning, is ever increasing in its
range and scope, until even the greatest minds are unable to comprehend
it as a whole.
Sir Isaac Newton felt this when, after his sublime discoveries in
science had been accomplished, he said, "I do not know what I may appear
to the world; but to myself I seem only like a boy playing upon the
seashore, and diverting myself by now and then finding a choice pebble,
or a prettier shell than ordinary; while the great ocean of truth lies
all undiscovered before me."
Strabo was entitled to be called a profound geographer eighteen hundred
years ago, but a geographer who had never heard of America would now be
laughed at by boys and girls of ten years of age. What would now be
thought of the greatest chemist or geologist of 1776? The truth is that,
in every science, mankind is constantly advancing. Every generation has
its front and its rear rank; but the rear rank of the later generation
stands upon the ground which was occupied by the front rank of its
predecessor.
It is important that our knowledge should be as full and complete as we
can make it. Partial knowledge nearly always leads us into error. A
traveler, as he passed through a large and thick wood, saw a part of a
huge oak which appeared misshapen, and almost seemed to spoil the
scenery. "If," said he, "I was the owner of this forest, I would cut
down that tree." But when he had ascended the hill, and taken a full
view of the forest, this same tree appeared the most beautiful part of
the landscape. "How erroneously," said he, "I have judged while I saw
only a part!" The full view, the harmony and proportion of things, are
all necessary to clear up our judgment.
Walter A. Wood, whose keen business ability made him a wealthy man, and
sent him to congress as a representative from the great state of New
York, is reported to have said, "I would give fifty thousand dollars for
a college education." When he came to measure his ability with that of
men who had had greater opportunities in an educational line, he
realized his loss. Chauncey M. Depew is also reported as having said, "I
never saw a self-made man in my life who did not firmly believe that he
had been handicapped, no matter how great his success, by deficiency in
education, and who was not determined to give his children the
advantages of which he felt, not only in business, but in intercourse
with his fellow-men, so great a need."
There is a difference between knowledge and wisdom and understanding;
but without the first the rest cannot be gained, any more than you can
have a harvest of wheat without seed and skill of cultivation.
Understanding is the right use of facts; facts make knowledge;
knowledge is the root of wisdom. Many men know a great deal, but are not
wise or capable; many others know less, but are able to use what they
have learned. Wisdom is the ripe fruit of knowledge; knowledge is the
beginning of character.
The love of knowledge has been characteristic of most great men. They
not only loved knowledge but they were willing to work hard to attain
it. As examples of this: Gibbon was in his study every morning, winter
and summer, at six o'clock. Milton is said to have stuck to the study of
his books with the regularity of a paid bookkeeper. Raphael, the great
artist, lived only to the age of thirty-seven, yet so diligent was his
pursuit of knowledge, that he carried his art to such a degree of
perfection that it became the model for his successors. When a man like
one of these wins success, people say "he is a genius." But the real
reason for success, was, as you may see, that the love of knowledge led
to the effort to obtain it.
Useful knowledge is the knowledge of what is of benefit to ourselves and
to others; and that is the most important which is the most useful. It
is the belief of those who have spent their lives in the search for it,
that knowledge is better than riches, and that its possession brings
more comfort to the owner. To be acquainted with the great deeds enacted
in past ages; to find out how some nations have grown powerful while
others have fallen; or to learn something about the great mysteries of
nature, brings with it to the diligent searcher many hours of pleasure.
Also the experience of man teaches that the exercise of the mind brings
great satisfaction.
Even in seemingly little things the same holds true. There is a fountain
in London that is opened by a concealed spring. One day the Bishop of
London wanted to drink, but no one could tell him how to open it. At
last a little dirty bootblack stepped up and touched the spring and the
water gushed out. He knew more than the bishop about that one thing, and
so was able to render the great man a real service.
The power of intellectual knowledge, without the power of moral
principle, can only tend to evil. It has been said that education would
empty our jails; but the greatest criminals, whether of scientific
poisoning, or of fraud and forgery, are well educated. It has been
asserted lately that "there is a race between scientific detection and
prevention, on the one hand, and scientific roguery on the other."
Character is the criterion of knowledge. Not what a man has, but what he
is, is the question, after all. The quality of soul is more than the
quantity of information. Personal, spiritual substance is the final
result. Have that, and your intellectual furnishings and attainments
will turn naturally to the loftiest uses. Add obedience to knowledge,
and your education will be worth all that it has cost.
ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT.
We may further illustrate this topic by a brief glance at the life of
Alexander Von Humboldt. His brother, Wilhelm, acquired a distinguished
name; but the greater renown fell to the younger, who was born at
Berlin, Germany, September 14, 1769,--his full name being Friedrich
Heinrich Alexander Von Humboldt. In circumstances of life, his lot was
easy; his father had the means to educate him well. No very striking
outward event occurred in his youth. Tutors prepared him for college;
his own aim was not at once seized. "Until I reached the age of
sixteen," he says, "I showed little inclination for scientific
pursuits. I was of a restless disposition, and wished to be a soldier."
But another current was flowing in his mind. "From my earliest youth I
had an intense desire to travel in those distant lands which have been
but rarely visited by Europeans." And again he says: "The study of maps
and the perusal of books of travel exercised a secret fascination over
me." These early tastes blended at last with a serious purpose, and
became "the incentive to scientific labor, or to undertakings of vast
import."
To show that Humboldt was not a mere fact-gatherer, we select one
incident out of many in his early life. When about twenty-one years of
age, he made an extended journey with George Forster over the continent.
Forster wrote the following after they had visited the cathedral at
Cologne. After describing the glories of the structure he adds: "My
attention was arrested by a yet more engrossing object: before me stood
a man of lively imagination and refined taste, riveted with admiration
to the spot. Oh, it was glorious to see, in his rapt contemplation, the
grandeur of the temple repeated as it were by reflection!" In this scene
we behold the actual process of knowledge being changed into true
learning and ideas; it was always so with Humboldt in his long and
varied career.
Humboldt studied hard, held official positions, and matured. His mother
died in 1796. To her this son owed much, for the father had died when
Alexander was only ten years old, and she watched his education with
fidelity. She saw the bent of the "little apothecary,"--as Alexander was
called because of his passion for collecting and labeling shells,
plants, and insects,--and guided it. Her death set Humboldt free to go
afar in travels. In June, 1799, he started on a five years' absence, in
which time he climbed Teneriffe and the Cordilleras, explored the
Orinoco, visited the United States, and gathered a mass of knowledge
which afterward won him lasting fame. Often he was in peril, often
baffled, often put to dreary discomforts by savage tribes; but through
all ran his unconquerable purpose.
In his scientific work he often took great risks in order to ascertain
facts, as all earnest investigators do. In testing a new lamp for
miners, he crept into a "crosscut" of the mine, lamp in hand, and
continued there so long and persistently that two men rushed in and drew
him out by the feet, the gases having overcome him.
We have not space to give details of his splendid career. Humboldt shone
with greater light from year to year. Honors were lavished upon him. His
works aided science, his life was a constant inspiration. He lived to be
ninety years old, dying in 1859,--possessing to the last, a strong
memory, and a tireless love of research.
[Footnote: On Humboldt, consult Haym's "Biography of Humboldt" (London,
1856); Bruhn's "Biography of Humboldt" (Leipsic, 1872, translated by
the Misses Lassell); Klenke's "Alexander Von Humboldt" (1859);
"Humboldt's Correspondence with Goethe" (London, 1876).]
IX.
THE FIRST TRANSITION PERIOD.
MEMORY GEMS.
The child is father of the man.--Wordsworth
Whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well.--Chesterfield
No one can cheat you out of ultimate success but yourself.--Emerson
A man cannot live a broad life if he runs only in one groove.
--J. Staples White
'Tis education forms the common mind,
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.--Pope
As the child grows into the youth the utmost care should be exercised,
both by himself and by his friends, to prevent the dwarfing of his
prospects by evil influences arising either from within or from without
himself.
The youthful period of man's life is by far the most important. No
subsequent training can entirely obliterate the results of early
impressions. They may be greatly modified; the character may be changed;
but some, and indeed many, of the impressions of youth will cling to the
mind forever.
It is in this period that the mind forms the ideas which will govern the
will throughout the whole career. Then is the twig bent to the direction
in which the tree will grow. The faintest whisperings of counsel are
eagerly caught, and the slightest direction instantaneously followed.
Then is the seed sown which will bring forth fruit in harvest time.
Bishop Vincent, writing about boyhood, says, "If I were a boy? Ah, if I
only were! The very thought of it sets my imagination afire. That 'if'
is a key to dreamland. First I would want a thorough discipline, early
begun and never relaxed, on the great truth of will force as the secret
of character. I would want my teacher to put the weight of
responsibility upon me; to make me think that I must furnish the
materials and do the work of building my own character; to make me think
that I am not a stick, or a stone, or a lump of putty, but a person.
That what I am in the long run, is what I am to make myself."
Boys and girls should early form a taste for good reading. In the choice
of books, as in the choice of friends, there is but one rule,--choose
the best. A witty gentleman, having received an invitation from a
wealthy but not very refined lady, on arriving was ushered into her
library, where she was seated surrounded by richly-bound books. "You
see, Mr. X.," she said, "I never need to be lonely, for here I sit
surrounded by my best friends." Without replying, the gentleman
approached a shelf and took down a volume which he perceived to be
uncut, and smilingly observed, "I am happy to find, madam, that unlike
the majority of people, you do not cut your friends."
Macaulay says, "I would rather be a poor man in a garret with plenty of
good books to read, than a king who did not love reading."
A boy ten years of age was seen to enter Westminster Abbey shortly
before evening prayers. Going straight up the main aisle he stopped at
the tomb of Charles Dickens. Then, looking to see that he was not
observed, he kneeled before the tombstone, and tenderly placed upon it a
bunch of violets. The little fellow hovered affectionately round the
spot for a few moments and went away with a happy, contented smile upon
his face. Curiosity led a gentleman present to examine the child's
offering, and this is what he found written in half-formed letters on an
envelope attached to the violets:--
"For it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at
Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself.--Christmas
Carol."
The young person that loves books as this little fellow did, will have
friends that will unconsciously transform him into a great,
noble-hearted man.
It is the thoughts of the boy that shape the future man. Garfleld, when
asked as a boy, what he was going to do when he grew up, would answer,
"First of all I am going to try to be a man. If I become that I shall be
fit for anything." To make the most of one's youth is to qualify one's
self to become a real man.
Some men, it is true, have been seemingly created by circumstances, and
have figured prominently in the world's history. But, as a general rule,
the child makes the man; and the foundation of all greatness and
usefulness is laid by the impressions of youth. "Alexander the Great
would not have been the conqueror of the world had his father not been
Philip of Macedon. Hannibal would not have been the scourge of the
Romans if Hamilcar had not sworn him to eternal vengeance against his
enemies. Napoleon Bonaparte would not have deluged Europe with blood,
if he had not been inspired by the genius of war from the pages of
Homer." And in our own days, those men whose early impressions were the
most favorable have been the most successful, both in their own lives,
and in their influence upon the world at large.
But it will not be enough to keep children during the season of youth
from the reach of improper associates and influences. The seed of right
principles must be diligently sown in their minds. Lessons of purity and
conscientiousness must be written deep on the tables of the heart.
Parental restraint is outward and visible, but the guiding principles of
life are inward and invisible. The day will come when the youth must
quit the parental roof, and perhaps entirely bid adieu to the influences
of home. If he be then destitute of right principles, if his mind be
like a ship without a rudder, he will stand in imminent danger of being
swept away by the waves of corruption.
Care should be taken to keep good company or none. No sensible person
will willingly keep bad horses or bad dogs. Should he be less particular
in selecting his companions? And yet, at this very point, some of life's
most cruel blunders are made.
A story is told of two parrots which lived near to each other. The one
was accustomed to sing songs, while the other was addicted to swearing.
The owner of the latter obtained permission for it to associate with the
former, in the hope that its bad habits would be corrected; but the
opposite result followed, for both learned to swear alike. This aptly
illustrates the usual effect of bad company, and no young man, however
strong he may imagine himself to be, can afford to be careless in this
matter.
In the forming of your friendships, be less anxious about social
standing, and more particular about character. Remember that President
Garfield used to say that he never passed a ragged boy in the street
without feeling that one day he might owe him a salute, No one knows
what possibilities of goodness and greatness are buttoned up under a
boy's coat.
On the tomb of Schubert, the great musician, is written, "He gave much,
but promised more"; and it is this immeasurable wealth of promise that
makes the lives of our boys and girls so full of beauty and of power.
X.
INDUSTRY.
MEMORY GEMS.
Genius is nothing but labor and diligence.--Hogarth.
Know something of everything and everything of something.
--Lord Brougham
The difference between one boy and another lies not so much in talent as
in energy.--Dr. Arnold
Work wields the weapons of power, wins the palm of success, and wears
the crown of victory.--A. T. Pierson.
A lazy man is of no more use than a dead man, and he takes up more
room.--O. S. Harden.
By industry we mean activity that is regular and devoted to the carrying
out of some purpose. More definitely, it is activity that is designed to
be useful to ourselves or to others. It is thus a _regulated activity_
by which our welfare, or that of others, may be furthered.
We are apt to think, or at least to feel, that the necessity of working
regularly is a hardship. Because we get tired with our work and look
forward with eagerness to the time of rest, we form the opinion that the
pleasantest life would be one which should be all rest.
Industry might well be urged as a duty. But we would rather now speak of
it chiefly as an aid in accomplishing other duties. Few things are more
helpful toward right living than industry, and few more conducive to
wrong living than idleness.
No doubt there are on this subject opposing opinions. Some believe,
whether they openly confess it or not, that the glory of the highest
success is not within the reach of every honest toiler; that it is, like
other legacies, the good fortune to which some are heirs, but which
others are denied--the inheritance only of those whom nature has well
endowed. These are the advocates of genius.
The reader of "Ivanhoe"--that finest romance of Sir Walter
Scott--pronounces its author a genius. The fact is, that book is a
conspicuous illustration of industry--patient, persevering toil. It has
been pointed out that, "for years Scott had made himself familiar with
the era of chivalry; plodded over, in imagination, the weary march of
the Crusaders; studied the characteristics and contradictions of the
Jewish character; searched carefully into the records of the times in
which the scenes of his story were laid; and even examined diligently
into the strange process whereby the Norman-French and the Anglo-Saxon
elements were wrought into a common tongue."
Labor is indeed the price set upon everything which is valuable. Nothing
can be accomplished without it. The greatest of men have risen to
distinction by unwearied industry and patient application. They may have
had inborn genius; their natures may have been quick and active; but
they could not avoid the necessity of persevering labor.