III

Surely a man has come to himself only when he has found the best that

is in him, and has satisfied his heart with the highest achievement he

is fit for. It is only then that he knows of what he is capable and

what his heart demands. And, assuredly, no thoughtful man ever came to

the end of his life, and had time and a little space of calm from which

to look back upon it, who did not know and acknowledge that it was what

he had done unselfishly and for others, and nothing else, that

satisfied him in the retrospect, and made him feel that he had played

the man. That alone seems to him the real measure of himself, the real

standard of his manhood. And so men grow by having responsibility laid

upon them, the burden of other people’s business. Their powers are put

out at interest, and they get usury in kind. They are like men

multiplied. Each counts manifold. Men who live with an eye only upon

what is their own are dwarfed beside them—seem fractions while they are

integers. The trustworthiness of men trusted seems often to grow with

the trust.

It is for this reason that men are in love with power and greatness: it

affords them so pleasurable an expansion of faculty, so large a run for

their minds, an exercise of spirit so various and refreshing; they have

the freedom of so wide a tract of the world of affairs. But if they use

power only for their own ends, if there be no unselfish service in it,

if its object be only their personal aggrandizement, their love to see

other men tools in their hands, they go out of the world small,

disquieted, beggared, no enlargement of soul vouchsafed them, no usury

of satisfaction. They have added nothing to themselves. Mental and

physical powers alike grow by use, as every one knows; but labor for

oneself is like exercise in a gymnasium. No healthy man can remain

satisfied with it, or regard it as anything but a preparation for tasks

in the open, amid the affairs of the world—not sport, but

business—where there is no orderly apparatus, and every man must devise

the means by which he is to make the most of himself. To make the most

of himself means the multiplication of his activities, and he must turn

away from himself for that. He looks about him, studies the facts of

business or of affairs, catches some intimation of their larger

objects, is guided by the intimation, and presently finds himself part

of the motive force of communities or of nations. It makes no

difference how small a part, how insignificant, how unnoticed. When his

powers begin to play outward, and he loves the task at hand, not

because it gains him a livelihood, but because it makes him a life, he

has come to himself.

Necessity is no mother to enthusiasm. Necessity carries a whip. Its

method is compulsion, not love. It has no thought to make itself

attractive; it is content to drive. Enthusiasm comes with the

revelation of true and satisfying objects of devotion; and it is

enthusiasm that sets the powers free. It is a sort of enlightenment. It

shines straight upon ideals, and for those who see it the race and

struggle are henceforth toward these. An instance will point the

meaning. One of the most distinguished and most justly honored of our

great philanthropists spent the major part of his life absolutely

absorbed in the making of money—so it seemed to those who did not know

him. In fact, he had very early passed the stage at which he looked

upon his business as a means of support or of material comfort.

Business had become for him an intellectual pursuit, a study in

enterprise and increment. The field of commerce lay before him like a

chess-board; the moves interested him like the manoeuvers of a game.

More money was more power, a great advantage in the game, the means of

shaping men and events and markets to his own ends and uses. It was his

will that set fleets afloat and determined the havens they were bound

for; it was his foresight that brought goods to market at the right

time; it was his suggestion that made the industry of unthinking men

efficacious; his sagacity saw itself justified at home not only, but at

the ends of the earth. And as the money poured in, his government and

mastery increased, and his mind was the more satisfied. It is so that

men make little kingdoms for themselves, and an international power

undarkened by diplomacy, undirected by parliaments.

When a Man Comes to Himself · 第 5 / 8 题