Dining one day with Baron James Rothschild, Eugene Delacroix, the famous
French artist, confessed that, during some time past, he had vainly
sought for a head to serve as a model for that of a beggar in a picture
which he was painting; and that, as he gazed at his host's features, the
idea suddenly occurred to him that the very head he desired was before
him. Rothschild, being a great lover of art, readily consented to sit as
the beggar. The next day, at the studio, Delacroix placed a tunic around
the baron's shoulders, put a stout staff in his hand, and made him pose
as if he were resting on the steps of an ancient Roman temple. In this
attitude he was found by one of the artist's favorite pupils, in a brief
absence of the master from the room. The youth naturally concluded that
the beggar had just been brought in, and with a sympathetic look quietly
slipped a piece of money into his hand. Rothschild thanked him simply,
pocketed the money, and the student passed out. Rothschild then inquired
of the master, and found that the young man had talent, but very slender
means. Soon after, the youth received a letter stating that charity
bears interest, and that the accumulated interest on the amount he had
given to one he supposed to be a beggar was represented by the sum of
ten thousand francs, which was awaiting his claim at the Rothschild
office.
This illustrates well the art of cheerful amusement even if one has
great business cares,--the entertainment of the artist, the personation
of a beggar, and an act of beneficence toward a worthy student.
It illustrates, too, what was said by Wilhelm von Humboldt, that "it is
worthy of special remark that when we are not too anxious about
happiness and unhappiness, but devote ourselves to the strict and
unsparing performance of duty, then happiness comes of itself." We carry
each day nobly, doing the duty or enjoying the privilege of the moment,
without thinking whether or not it will make us happy. This is quite in
accord with the saying of George Herbert, "The consciousness of duty
performed gives us music at midnight."
Are not buoyant spirits like water sparkling when it runs? "_I have
found my greatest happiness in labor_," said Gladstone. "I early formed
a habit of industry, and it has been its own reward. The young are apt
to think that rest means a cessation from all effort, but I have found
the most perfect rest in changing effort. If brain-weary over books and
study, go out into the blessed sunlight and the pure air, and give
heartfelt exercise to the body. The brain will soon become calm and
rested. The efforts of Nature are ceaseless. Even in our sleep the heart
throbs on. I try to live close to Nature, and to imitate her in my
labors. The compensation is sound sleep, a wholesome digestion, and
powers that are kept at their best; and this, I take it, is the chief
reward of industry."
"Owing to ingrained habits," said Horace Mann, "work has always been to
me what water is to a fish. I have wondered a thousand times to hear
people say, 'I don't like this business,' or 'I wish I could exchange it
for that;' for with me, when I have had anything to do, I do not
remember ever to have demurred, but have always set about it like a
fatalist, and it was as sure to be done as the sun was to set."
"_One's personal enjoyment is a very small thing, but one's personal
usefulness is a very important thing." Those only are happy who have
their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness_. "The
most delicate, the most sensible of all pleasures," says La Bruyere,
"consists in promoting the pleasures of others." And Hawthorne has said
that the inward pleasure of imparting pleasure is the choicest of all.
"Oh, it is great," said Carlyle, "and there is no other greatness,--to
make some nook of God's creation more fruitful, better, more worthy of
God,--to make some human heart a little wiser, manlier, happier, more
blessed, less accursed!" The gladness of service, of having some
honorable share in the world's work, what is better than this?
"The Lord must love the common people," said Lincoln, "for he made so
many of them, and so few of the other kind." To extend to all the cup of
joy is indeed angelic business, and there is nothing that makes one more
beautiful than to be engaged in it.
"The high desire that others may be blest savors of heaven."
The memory of those who spend their days in hanging sweet pictures of
faith and trust in the galleries of sunless lives shall never perish
from the earth.