THE INVESTMENT 
 OF INFLUENCE 66 
 
 
 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tinis bool< is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
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 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924095926097 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
By NEWELL DWIGHT HILLIS 
 
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i 
 
 COflNELL UNIVERSmr UBRARY 
 
 3 1924 095 926 097 
 
Copyright 1S97 
 By Fleming H. Revell Company. 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 Many years have now pafsed since we first met. 
 During all this time you have been an unfailing 
 guide' and helper. Your friendship has doubled 
 life's joys and halved its sorrows. Tou have 
 strengthened me where I was weak and weakened 
 me where I was too strong. Tou have borne my 
 burdens and lent me strength to bear my own. 
 
 Because I have learned from you in example, 
 what I here teach in precept, I dedicate this book 
 
 TO rov 
 
 — whether toiling in field or forum, 
 in home or market place, 
 
 TO rOU—MT FRIEND 
 
Foreword. 
 
 The glory of our fathers was their em- 
 phasis of the principle of self -care and self-cul- 
 ture. Finding that he who first made the most 
 of himself was best fitted to make something 
 of others, the teachers of yesterday unceasingly 
 plied men with motives of personal responsi- 
 bility. Influenced by the former generation, 
 our age has organized the principle of in- 
 dividualism into its home, its school, its 
 market-place and forum. By reason of the 
 increase in gold, books, travel and personal 
 luxuries, some now feel that selfness is begin- 
 ning to degenerate into selfishness. The 
 time, therefore, seems to have fully come when 
 the principle of self-care should receive its 
 complement through the principle of care for 
 others. These chapters assert the debt of 
 wealth to poverty, the debt of wisdom to 
 ignorance, the debt of strength to weakness. 
 If "A Man's Value to Society" affirms the 
 duty of self-culture and character, these studies 
 emphasize the law of social sympathy and 
 social servica 
 
 Nbwell Dwight Hillib. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chaf. Page. 
 
 I Influence, and the Atmosphere Man 
 
 Carries ii 
 
 II Life's Great Hearts, and the Helpful- 
 
 ness of the Higher Manhood . . 33 
 
 III The Investment of Talent and Its 
 
 Return 51 
 
 IV Vicarious Lives as Instruments of 
 
 Social Progress 69 
 
 V Genius, and the Debt of Strength . . 91 
 
 VI The Time Element in Individual Char- 
 
 acter and Social Growth , . . 1 1 1 
 
 VII The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain , 133 
 
 VIII Renown Through Self- Renunciation . 157 
 
 IX The Gentleness of True Gianthood . 175 
 
 X The Thunder of Silent Fidelity: a Study 
 
 of the Influence of Little Things . 197 
 
 XI Influence, and the Strategic Element in 
 
 Opportunity Z19 
 
 XII Influence, and the Principle of Reaction 
 
 in Life and Character . . . . 239 
 
 XIII The Love that Perfects Life ... 259 
 
 XIV Hope's Harvest, and the Far-off Interest 
 
 of Tears 279 
 
Influence, and the Atmosphere Man 
 Carries. 
 
"I do not believe the world is dying for new ideas. A 
 teaclier has a high place amongst us, but someone is wanted here 
 and abroad far more than a teacher. It is power we need; power 
 that shall help us to solve our practical problems, power that shall 
 help us to realize a high, individual, spiritual life ; power that 
 shall make us daring enough to act out all we have seen in vision, 
 all we have learnt in principle from Jesus Christ." — Charia A. 
 Berry. 
 
 "And Saul sent messengers to take David : and when they 
 saw the company of prophets prophesying, and Samuel standing as 
 appointed over them, the Spirit of God was upon the messengers of 
 Saul, and they also prophesied. And when it was told Saul, he 
 sent other messengers and they prophesied likewise. And Saul 
 sent messengers again the third time, and they prophesied also. 
 Then went Saul to Ramah, and he said. Where are Samuel and 
 David ? And one said. Behold they be at Naioth. And Saul went 
 thither, and the Spirit of God came on him also and he prophe- 
 sied. Wherefore man said: Is Saul also among the prophets ? " 
 
 — /. Samuel, xix, 20-2I> 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 Influence, and the Atmosphere Man 
 Carries. 
 
 Nature's forces carry their atmosphere. 
 The sun gushes forth light unquenchable; 
 coals throw off heat; violets are larger in 
 influence than bulk; pomegranates and spices 
 crowd the house with sweet odors. Man also 
 has his atmosphere. He is a force-bearer and a 
 force-producer. He journeys forward, exhaling 
 influences. Scientists speak of the magnetic 
 circle. Artists express the same idea by 
 the halo of light emanating from the divine 
 head. Business men understand this princi- 
 ple; those skilled in promoting great enter- 
 prises bring the men to be impressed into a 
 room and create an atmosphere around them. 
 In measuring Kossuth's influence over the mul- 
 titudes that thronged and pressed upon him 
 the historian said: "We must first reckon with 
 the orator's physical bulk and then carry the 
 measuring-line about his atmosphere." 
 
 Thinking of the evil emanating from a 
 bad man, Bunyan made Apollyon's nostrils 
 emit flames. Edward Everett insists that Daniel 
 Webster's eyes during his greatest speech lit- 
 
 13 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 erally emitted sparks. Had we tests fine 
 enough we would doubtless find each man's 
 personality the center of outreaching influ- 
 ences. He himself may be utterly unconscious 
 of this exhalation of moral forces, as he is of 
 the contagion of disease from his body. But 
 if light is in him he shines; if darkness rules he 
 shades; if his heart glows 'with love he warms; 
 if frozen with selfishness he chills ; if corrupt he 
 poisons ; if pure-hearted he cleanses. We watch 
 with wonder the apparent flight of the sim 
 through space, glowing upon dead planets, 
 shortening winter and bringing summer, with 
 birds, leaves and fruits. But that is not half so 
 wonderful as the passage of a human heart, 
 glowing and sparkling with ten thousand 
 effects, as it moves through life. The soul, like 
 the sun, has its atmosphere, and is over against 
 its fellows, for light, warmth and transfor- 
 mation. 
 
 All great writers have had their incident 
 of the atmosphere their hero carried. Cen- 
 turies ago King Saul sent his officers to 
 arrest a seer who had publicly indicted the 
 tyrant for outbreaking sins. When the sol- 
 dier entered the prophet's presence he was 
 so profoundly affected by the majesty of his 
 character that he forgot the commission and 
 his lord's command, asking rather to become 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 the good maa's protector. Likewise with the 
 second group of soldiers— coming to arrest, they 
 remained to befriend. Then the King's anger 
 was exceedingly hot against him who had be- 
 come a conscience for the throne. Bushing 
 forth from his palace, like an angry lion from 
 his lair, the King sought the place where this 
 man of God was teaching the people. But, lol 
 when the King entered the brave man's pres- 
 ence his courage, fidelity and integrity over- 
 came Saul and conquered him unto confession 
 of his wickedness. Just here we may remem- 
 ber that stout-hearted Pilate, with a legion of 
 mailed soldiers to protect him, trembled and 
 quaked before his silent prisoner. And King 
 Agrippa on his throne was afraid, when Paiil, 
 lifting his chains, fronted him with words of 
 righteousness and judgment. Carlyle says that 
 in 1848, during the riot in Paris, the mob 
 swept down a street blazing with cannon, killed 
 the soldiers, spiked the guns, only to be stopped 
 a few blocks beyond by an old, white-haired man 
 who uncovered and signaled for silence. Then 
 the leader of the mob said: "Citizens, it is Be la 
 Eure. Sixty years of pure life is about to ad- 
 dress you!" A true man's presence trans- 
 formed a mob that cannon could not conquer. 
 Montaigne's illustration of atmosphere was 
 Julius Caesar. When the great Soman was 
 
 15 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 still a youth, he was captured by pirates and 
 chained to the oars as a galley-slave; but Caesar 
 told stories, sang songs, declaimed with end- 
 less good humor. Chains bound Caesar to the 
 oars, and his words bound the pirates to him- 
 self. That night he supped with the captain. 
 The second day his knowledge of currents, 
 coasts and the route of treasure-ships made 
 him first mate ; then he won the sailors over, 
 put the captain in irons, and ruled the ship 
 like a king; soon after, he sailed the ship as a 
 prize into a Roman port. If this incident is 
 credible, a youth who in four days can talk 
 the chains off his wrists, talk himself into 
 the captaincy, talk a pirate ship into his 
 own hands as booty, is not to be accounted 
 for by his eloquent words. His speech was 
 but a tithe of his power, and wrought its 
 spell only when personality had first ere-- 
 ated a sympathetic atmosphere. Only a frac- 
 tion of a great man's character can manifest 
 itself in speech; for the character is inex- 
 pressibly finer and larger than his words. 
 The narrative of Washington's exploits is the 
 smallest part of his work. Sheer weight of 
 personality alone can account for him. Happy 
 the man of moral energy all compact, whose 
 mere presence, like that of Samuel, the seer, 
 restrains others, softens and transforms them. 
 
 i6 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 This 16 a thing to be written on a man's tomb: 
 " Mis presence made bad men good." 
 
 This mysterious bundle of forcses called 
 man, moving through society, exhaling bless- 
 ings or bligLtings, gets its meaning from the 
 capacity of others to receive its influences. 
 Man is not so wonderful in his power to mold 
 other lives, as in his readiness to be molded. 
 Steel to hold, he is wax to take. The Daguer- 
 rean plate and the MoW&n harp do but meager] y 
 interpret Ws receptivity. Therefore, some phi- 
 losophers think character is but the simi total 
 of those many-shaped influences called climate, 
 food, friends, books, industtries. As a lump of 
 day is lifted to the wheel by the potter's hand, 
 and under gentle pressure takes on the lines of 
 a beautiful cup or vase, so man sets forth a mere 
 mass of mind; soon, under the gentle touch of 
 love, hope, ambition, he stands forth in the 
 aspect of a Cromwell, a Milton or a Iiincoln. 
 
 Standing at the center of the universe, a thou- 
 sand forces come rushing into report themselves 
 to the sensitive soul-center. There is a nerve in 
 man that runs out to every room and realm in 
 the universe. Only a tithe of the world's truth 
 and beauty finds access to the lion or lark; they 
 look out as one in castle tower whose only win- 
 dow is a slit in the Tock. But man dwells in a 
 glass dome; to him the world lies opeai on every 
 
 17 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 side. Every fact and force outside has a desk 
 inside man where it makes up its reports. The 
 ear reports all sounds and songs; the eye all 
 sights and scenes; the reason all arguments; 
 judgment each "ought" and "ought not;" the 
 religious faculty reports messages coming from 
 a foreign clime. 
 
 Man's mechanism stands at the center of 
 the universe with telegraph-lines extending 
 in every direction. It is a marvelous pilgrim- 
 age he is making through life while myriad 
 influences stream in upon him. It is no 
 small thing to carry such a mind for three- 
 score years under the glory of the heavens, 
 through the glory of the earth, midst the 
 majesty of the summer and the sanctity of the 
 winter, while all things animate and inanimate 
 rush in through open windows. For one thus 
 sensitively constituted every moment trembles 
 with possibilities; every hour is big with 
 destiny. The neglected blow cannot afterward 
 be struck on the cold iron; once the stamp is 
 given to the soft metal it cannot be effaced. 
 Well did Euskin say: "Take your vase of 
 Venice glass out of the furnace and strew chaff 
 over it in its transparent heat, and recover 
 that to its clearness and rubied glory when the 
 aorth wind has blown upon it; but do not 
 think to strew chaff over the child fresh from 
 
 i8 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 God's presence and to bring the heavenly colors 
 back to him — at least in this world. " We are 
 accountable to God for our influence; this it is 
 "that gives us pause." 
 
 Gentle as is the atmosphere about us, it 
 presses with a weight of fourteen pounds to the 
 square inch. No infant's hand feels its weight; 
 no leaf of aspen or wing of bird detects this 
 heavy pressure, for the fluid air presses equally 
 in all directions. Just so gentle, yet powerful, 
 is the moral atmosphere of a good man as it 
 presses upon and shapes his kind. He who 
 hath made man in his own image hath endowed 
 him with this forceful presence. Ten-talent 
 men, eminent in knowledge and refinement, 
 eminent in art and wealth, do, indeed, illus- 
 trate this. Proof also comes from obscur- 
 ity, as pearls from homely oyster shells. 
 Working among the poor of London, an Eng- 
 lish author searched out the life-career of an 
 apple woman. Her history makes the story of 
 kings and queens contemptible. Events had 
 appointed her to poverty, hunger, cold and two 
 rooms in a tenement. But there were three 
 orphan boys sleeping in an ash-box whose lot 
 was harder. She dedicated her heart and life 
 to the little waifs. During two and forty years 
 she mothered and reared some twenty orphans 
 — gave them home and bed and food; taught 
 
 ^9 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 tkem all she knew; helped some to obtain a 
 scant knowledge of the trades; helped others 
 off to Canada and America. The author says 
 she had misshapen features, but that an 
 exquisite smile was on the dead face. It must 
 have been so. She "had a beautiful soul," as 
 Emerson said of Longfellow. Poverty disfig- 
 ured the apple woman's garret, and want made 
 it wretched; nevertheless, God's most beautiful 
 angels hovered over it. Her life was a blossom 
 event in London's history. Social reform has 
 felt her influence. Like a broken vase the 
 perfimie of her being will sweeten literature 
 and society a thousand years after we are 
 gone. 
 
 The Greek poet says men knew when the 
 goddess came to Thebes because of the bless- 
 ings she left in her track. Her footprints 
 were not in the sea, soon obliterated, nor in 
 the snow, quickly melting, but in fields and 
 forests. This unseen friend, passing by the 
 tree blackened by a thunderbolt, stayed her 
 step; lol the woodbine sprang up and covered 
 the tree's nakedness. She lingered by the 
 stagnant pool — ^the pool became a flowing 
 spring. She rested upon a fallen log — from 
 decay and death came moss, the snowdrop and 
 the anemone. At the crossing of the brook were 
 her footpcints; not la mud doYmward, but in 
 
 20 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 violets that sprang up in her pathway. O 
 beautiful prophecy! literally fulfilled 2,000 
 years afterward in theJife^l^Se London apple 
 woman, whose ati^6sph*re sweetened bitter 
 hearts and made e^-il into good.. 
 
 Wealth and ei^nent p^aitiqp witness not less 
 powerfully the/transforming influence of ex- 
 alted charaete^. ««My^<5rds," said Salisbury, 
 "the reforms pf thisefentury have been chiefly 
 due to the presence here of one man — Lord 
 Shaftesbury. The genius of his life was ex- 
 pressed when last he addressed you. He said: 
 'When I feel age creeping upon me I am dteeply 
 grieved, for I cannot bear to go away and leave 
 the world with so much misery in it.'" So 
 long a>s Shaftesbury lived, England beheld a 
 standing rebuke of all wrong and injustice. 
 How many iniquities shriveled up in his pres- 
 ence! This man, representing the noblest ances- 
 try, wealth and culture, wrought numberless 
 reforms. He became a voice for the poor and 
 weak. He gave his life to reform acts and 
 corn laws; he emancipated the enslaved boys 
 and girls toiling in mines and factories ; he ex- 
 posed and made impossible the horrors of that 
 inferno in which chimney-sweeps live; he 
 founded twoscore industrial, ragged and trade 
 schools; he established shelters for the homeless 
 poor; when Parliament closed its sessions at 
 
 21 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 midnight Lord Shaftesbury went forth to 
 search out poor prodigals sleeping under 
 Waterloo or Blackfriars bridge, and often in a 
 single night brought a score to his shelter. 
 When the funeral cortege passed through Pall 
 Mall and Trafalgar square on its way to West- 
 minster Abbey, the streets for a mile and a half 
 were packed with innumerable thousands. The 
 costermongers lifted a large banner on which 
 were inscribed these words: "I was sick and in 
 prison and ye visited me." The boys from the 
 ragged schools lifted these words: "I was 
 hungry and naked and ye fed me." All Eng- 
 land felt the force of that colossal character. 
 To-day at that central point in Piccadilly where 
 the highways meet and thronging multitudes 
 go surging by, the English people have 
 erected the statue of Shaftesbury — the fitting 
 motto therefor: "The reforms of this century 
 have been chiefly due to the presence and 
 influence of Shaftesbury." If our generation 
 is indeed held back from injustice and anarchy 
 and bloodshed, it will be because Shaftesbury 
 the peer, and Samuel, the seer, are duplicated 
 in the lives of our great men, who stand forth to 
 plead the cause of the poor and weak. 
 
 But man's atmosphere is equally potent to 
 blight and to shrivel. Not time, but man, is 
 
 22 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 the great destroyer. History is full of the 
 ruins of cities and empires. ' ' Innumerable 
 Paradises have come and gone; Adams and 
 Eves many," happy one day, have been "miser- 
 able exiles" the next; and always because 
 some Satanic ambition or passion or person 
 entering has cast baneful shadow o'er the 
 scene. Men talk of the scythe of time and the 
 tooth of time. But, said the art historian: 
 '•Time is scytheless and toothless; it is we 
 who gnaw like the worm; we who smite like 
 the scythe. Fancy what treasures would be 
 ours to-day if the delicate statues and temples 
 of the G-reeks, if the broad roads and massy 
 walls of the Romans, if the noble architecture, 
 castles and towns of the Middle Ages had not 
 been ground to dust by blind rage of man. 
 It is man that is the consumer; he is moth and 
 mildew and flame." All the galleries and tem- 
 ples and libraries and cities have been de- 
 stroyed by his baneful presence. Thrice 
 armies have made an arsenal of the Acropolis ; 
 ground the precious marbles to powder, and 
 mixed their dust with his ashes. It was man's 
 ax and hammer that dashed down the carved 
 work of cathedrals and turned the treasure 
 cities into battle-fields, and opened galleries 
 to the mold of sea winds. Disobedience to law 
 
 23 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 has made cities a heap and walled cities ruins. 
 Mam. is the pestilence that walketh in darkness. 
 Man is the destruction that wasteth at aooaday. 
 When Mephistopheles appears in hxanan 
 form his presence falls upon homes like the 
 black pall of the Gonsumiag plague, that 
 robes cities for death. The classic •writer teUs 
 of an Indian princess sent as a present to 
 Alexander the Great. She was lovely as the 
 dawn; yet what especially distinguished her 
 was a certain rich perfume' in her breath; 
 richer than a garden of Persian roses. A 
 sage physician discovered her terrible secret. 
 This lovely woman had been reared upon poi- 
 sons from infancy until she herself was the 
 deadliest poison known. When a handlid of 
 sweet flowers was giv«n to her, her bosom 
 scorched and shriveled the petals; when the 
 rich perfume of her breath went among a 
 swarm of insects, a score fell dead about her. 
 A pet hummmg-bird entering her atmos|dtece, 
 shuddered^ hung for a moment ia the adr, then 
 dropped in its final agony. Her love was poi^ 
 son; her embrace death. This tale has hela 
 a place in literature because it stands for men 
 of evil all compact, whose presence has con- 
 sumed integrities and exhaled IniqiaitiBSw Hap- 
 pily the forces that bless are always more 
 numerous and more potent than those that 
 
 24 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 blight. Cast a bushel of chaff and one grain 
 of wheat into the soil and nature mil destroy 
 all the chatf but cause the one grain of wheat 
 t© usher in rich harvests. 
 
 As a force-produeer, man's primary influ- 
 ence is voluntary in nature. This is the 
 capacity of purposely bringing all the soul's 
 powers to bear upon society. It is the founda- 
 tion of all instruction. The parent influences 
 the child this way or that. The artist-master 
 plies his pupil. The brave general or dis- 
 coverer inspires and stimulates his men by 
 multiform motives. The charioteer holds the 
 reins, guides his steeds, restrains or lifts the 
 scourge. Similarly man holds the reins of 
 influence over man, and is himself in turn 
 guided. So friend shapes and molds friend. 
 This is what gives its meaning to conversa- 
 tion, oratory, journalism, reforms. Each man 
 stands at the center of a great network of vol- 
 untary influence for good. Through words, 
 bearing and g^ture, he sends out his energies. 
 Oftentimes a single speech has effected great 
 reforms. Oft one man's act has deflected the 
 stream of the centuries. Fvll oft a single word 
 has been like a switch that turns a train from the 
 route running toward the frozen North, to a 
 track leading into the tropic South. 
 
 25 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 Not seldom has a youth been turned from the 
 way of integrity by the influence of a single 
 friend. Endowed as man is, the weight of his 
 being effects the most astonis hing results. Wit- 
 ness Stratton's conversation with the drunken 
 bookbinder whom we know as John B. Gough, 
 the apostle of temperance. Witness Moffat's 
 words that changed David Livingstone, the 
 weaver, into David Livingstone, the savior of 
 Africa. Witness Garibaldi's words fashioning 
 the Italian mob into the conquering army. 
 Witness Garrison and Beecher and Phillips 
 and John Bright. Rivers, winds, forces of 
 fire and steam are impotent compared to those 
 energies of mind and heart, that make men 
 equal to transforming whole communities and 
 even nations. Who can estimate the soul's 
 conscious power? Who can measure the light 
 and heat of last summer? Who can gather up 
 the rays of the stars? Who can bring to- 
 gether the odors of last year's orchards? 
 There are no mathematics for computing the 
 influence of man's voluntary thought, affec- 
 tion and aspiration upon his fellows. 
 
 Man has also an unpurposed influence. Power 
 goes forth without his distinct volition. Like 
 all centers of energy, the soul does its best 
 work automatically. The sun does not think 
 of lifting the mist from the ocean, yet the 
 
 26 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 vapor moves skyward. Often man is ignorant 
 of what he accomplishes upon his fellows, but 
 the results are the same. He is surcharged 
 with energy. Accomplishing much by plan, 
 he does more through unconscious weight of 
 personality. In wonder- words we are told the 
 apostle purposely wrought deeds of mercy 
 upon the poor. Yet through his shadow fall- 
 ing on the weak and sick as he passed by, he 
 unconsciously wrought health and hope in men. 
 In like manner it is said that while Jesus Christ 
 was seeking to comfort the comfortless, invol- 
 untarily virtue went out of him to strengthen 
 one who did but touch the hem of his garment. 
 , Character works with or without consent. The 
 selfish man fills his office -with a malign atmos- 
 phere; his very presence chills like a cold, 
 clammy day. Suspicious people fill all the cir- 
 cle in which they live with envy and jealousy. 
 Moody men distribute gloom and depression; 
 hopelessness drains off high spirits as cold iron 
 draws the heat from the hand. Domineering 
 men provoke rebellion and breed endless irri- 
 tations. 
 
 Great hearts there are also among men; 
 they carry a volume of manhood; their pres- 
 ence is sunshine; their coming changes our 
 climate; they oil the bearings of life; their 
 shadow always falls behind them; they 
 
 27 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 make right living easy. Blessed are the 
 happiness-makers 1 — ^they represent the best 
 forces in civilization. They are to the heart 
 and home what the hoaeysuckle is to the door 
 over which it clings. These embodied gospels 
 interpret Christianity. Jenny Lind explains a 
 sheet of printed music — and a royal Christian 
 heart explains, and is more than a creed. Lit- 
 tle wonder, when Christianity is incarnated in a 
 mother, that the yowth worships her as though 
 she were an angel. Someone has likened a 
 church full of people to a box of unlighted 
 candles; latent light is there; if they were 
 only kindled and set burning they would be 
 lights indeed. What God asks for is luminous 
 Christians and living gospels. 
 
 Another form of influence continues after 
 death, and may be called unconscious immor- 
 tality or conserved social energy. Personality 
 is organized into instruments, tools, books, in- 
 stitutions. Over these forms of activity death 
 and years have no power for destroying. The 
 swift steamboat and the flying train tell us that 
 Watt and Stephenson are still toiling for 
 men. Every foreign cablegram reminds us 
 that Cyrus Field has just returned home. 
 The merchant who organi<zes a great business 
 sends down to the generations his personality, 
 prtaidence, wisdom and executive skill. The 
 
 28 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 names of inventors may now be on molderimg 
 tombstones, but their busy fingers are still 
 weaving warm textures for the world's poor. 
 The gardener of Hampton court, who, in old 
 age, wished to do yet one more helpful deed, 
 and planted with elms and oaks the roadway 
 leading to the historic house, still lives in those 
 columnar trees, and all the long summer 
 through distributes comfort and refreshment. 
 Every man who opens up a roadway into the 
 wilderness; every engineer throwing a bridge 
 over icy rivers for weary travelers; every 
 builder rearing abodes of peace, happiness and 
 refinement for his generation; every smith 
 forging honest plates that hold great ships in 
 time of storm; every patriot that redeems his 
 land with blood; every martyr forgotten and 
 dying in his dungeon that freedom might 
 never perish; every teacher and discoverer 
 who has gone into lands of fever and miasma 
 to carry liberty, intelligence and religion to 
 the ignorant, still walks among men, working 
 for society and is unconsciously immortal. 
 
 This is fame. Life hath no holier ambi- 
 tion. Some there are who, denied oppor- 
 tunity, have sought out those ambitious to 
 learn, and, educating them, have sent their 
 own porsoiiality out through artists, jurists 
 or authors they have trained. Herein is 
 
 29 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 the test of the greatness of editor or states- 
 man or merchant. He has so incarnated his 
 ideas or methods in his helpers that, while 
 his body is one, his spirit has many-shaped 
 forms; so that his journal, or institution, or 
 party feels no jar nor shock in his death, but 
 moves quietly forward because he is still here 
 living and working in those into whom his 
 spirit is incarnated. Death ends the single 
 ^ife, but our multiplied life in others survives. 
 The supreme example of atmosphere and 
 influence is Jesus Christ. His was a force 
 mightier than intellect. Wherever he moved 
 a light ne'er seen on land nor sea shone on man. 
 It was more than eminent beauty or supreme 
 genius. His scepter was not through cunning 
 of brain or craft of hand; reality was his 
 throne. "Therefore," said Charles Lamb, 
 <'if Shakespeare should enter the room we 
 should rise and greet him uncovered; but 
 kneeling meet the Nazarene." His gift cannot 
 be bought nor commanded; but his secret and 
 charm may be ours. Acceptance, obedience, 
 companionship with him — these are the keys of 
 power. The legend is, that so long as the 
 Grecian hero touched the ground, he was 
 strong; and measureless the influence of him 
 who ever dwells in Christ's atmosphere. Man 
 grows like those he loves. If great men 
 
 30 
 
The Atmosphere Man Carries. 
 
 come in groups, there is always a greater 
 man in the midst of the company from whom 
 they borrowed eminence — Socrates and his dis- 
 ciples; Cromwell and his friends; Coleridge and 
 his company; Emerson and the Boston group; 
 high over all the twelve disciples and the Name 
 above every name. Perchance, in vision-hour, 
 over against the man you are he will show you 
 the man he would fain have you become; there- 
 by comes greatness. For value is not in iron, 
 but in the pattern that molds it; beauty is 
 not in the pigments, but in the ideal that 
 blends them; strength is not in the stone or 
 marble, but in the plan of architect; greatness 
 is not in wisdom, nor wealth, nor skill, but in 
 the divine Christ who works up these raw ma- 
 terials of character. Forevermore the secret 
 of eminence is the secret of the Messiah. 
 
 31 
 
Life's Great Hearts, and the Help- 
 fulness OF THE Higher Manhood. 
 
" Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, 
 
 Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues 
 
 Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike 
 
 As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touched 
 
 But to fine issues ; nor Nature never lends 
 
 The smallest scruple of her excellence, 
 
 But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 
 
 Herself the glory of a creditor — 
 
 Both thanks and use." — Measure for Measure. 
 
 " A man was born, not for prosperity, but to suffer for the 
 benefit ot others, like the noble rock maple, which, all round our 
 villages, bleeds for the service of man." — Emerson. 
 
 " Everything cries out to us that we must renounce. Thou 
 must go without, go without! That is the everlasting song 
 which every hour, all our life through, hoarsely sings to us : Die, 
 and come to life ; for so long as this is not accomplished thou art 
 but a troubled guest upon an earth of gloom." — Goethe. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Life's Great Hearts, and the Help- 
 fulness OF THE Higher Manhood. 
 
 The oases in the Arabian desert lie under 
 the lee of long ridges of rock. The high 
 cliffs extending from north to south are bar- 
 riers against the drifting sand. Standing on 
 the rocky summit the seer Isaiah beheld a sea 
 whose yellow waves stretched to the very hor- 
 izon. By day the winds were still, for the pit- 
 iless Asiatic sun made the desert a furnace 
 whose air rose upward. But when night falls 
 the wind rises. Then the sand begins to drift. 
 Soon every object lies buried under yellow 
 flakes. Anon, sandstorms arise. Then the 
 sole hope for man is to fall upon his face; the 
 sky rains bullets. Then appears the minis- 
 try of the rocks. They stay the drifting 
 sand. To the yellow sea they say: "Thus far, 
 but no farther." Desolation is held back. 
 Soon the land under the lee of the rocks be- 
 comes rich. It is fed by springs that seep out 
 of the cliflfs. It becomes a veritable oasis 
 with figs and olives and vineyards and aro- 
 matic shrubs. Here dwell the sheik and his 
 flocks. Hither come the caravans seeking re- 
 
 35 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 freshment. In all the Orient no spot so 
 beautiful as the oasis under the shadow of the 
 rocks. Long centuries ago, while Isaiah re- 
 joiced under the beneficent ministry of these 
 cliffs, his thoughts went out from dead rocks 
 to living men. In his vision he saw good men 
 as Great Hearts, to whom crowded close the 
 weak and ignorant, seeking protection. Shel- 
 tered thereby barren lives were nourished into 
 bounty and beauty. With leaping heart and 
 streaming eyes he cried out: "O, what a des- 
 ert is life but for the ministry of the higher 
 manhoodi To what shall I liken a good man? 
 A man shall be as the shadow of a great rock 
 in a weary land; a shelter in the time of 
 storm I " 
 
 Optimists always, we believe God's world is 
 a good world. Joy is more than sorrow; hap- 
 piness outweighs misery; the reasons for liv- 
 ing are more numerous than the reasons 
 against it. But let the candid mind confess 
 that life hath aspects very desert-like. To- 
 day prosperity grows like a fruitful tree; to- 
 morrow adversity's hot winds wither every 
 leaf. God plants companion, child, or friend 
 in the life-garden ; but death blasts the tree 
 under which the soul finds shelter; then begins 
 the desert pilgrimage. Soon comes loss of 
 
 36 
 
Helpfulness of the Higher Manhood. 
 
 health; then the wealth of Croesus availeth 
 not for refreshing sleep, and the wisdom of 
 Solomon is vanity and vexation of spirit. The 
 common people, too, know blight and blast; 
 their life is full of mortal toil and strife; its 
 fruitage grief and pain. Temptations and 
 evil purposes are the chief blights. When the 
 fiery passion hath passed the soul is like a city 
 swept by a conflagration. Each night we go 
 before the judgment-seat. Reason hears the 
 case; memory gives evidence; conscience con- 
 victs; each faculty goes to the left; self- 
 respect pushes us out of paradise into the 
 desert; and the angels of our better nature 
 guard the gates with flaming swords. 
 
 A journey among men is like a journey 
 through some land after the cyclone has made 
 the village a heap and the harvest fields a 
 waste. An outlook upon the generations re- 
 minds us of a highway along which the retreat- 
 ing army has passed, leaving abandoned guns 
 and silent cannon with men dead and dying. 
 Travelers from tropical Mexico describe ruined 
 cities and lovely villages away from which 
 civilized men journey, leaving temples and ter- 
 raced gardens to moss and ivy. The deserted 
 valleys are rich in tropic fruits and the cli- 
 mate soft and gentle. Yet Aztecs left the 
 
 37 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 garden to journey northward into the deserts 
 of Arizona and New Mexico. Often for the 
 soul paradise is not before, but behind. 
 
 Shakespeare condenses all this in "King 
 Lear." Avarice closes the palace doors against 
 the white-haired King. Greed pushes him 
 into the night to wander o'er the wasted moor, 
 an exiled king, uncrowned and uncared for. 
 In such hours garden becomes desert. This is 
 the drama of man's life. The soul thirsts for 
 sympathy. It hungers for love. Baffled and 
 broken it seeks a great heart. For the pil- 
 grim multitudes Moses was the shadow on a 
 great rock in a weary land. For poor, 
 hunted David, Jonathan was a covert in time 
 of storm. Savonarola, Luther, Cromwell shel- 
 tered perishing multitudes. Solitary in the 
 midst of the vale in which death will soon dig 
 a grave for each of us stands the immortal 
 Christ, "the shadow of a great rock in a weary 
 land." 
 
 That Infinite Being who hath made man in 
 his own image hath endowed the soul with 
 full power to transform the desert into an 
 oasis. The soul carries wondrous implements. 
 It is given to reason to carry fertility where 
 ignorance and fear and superstition have 
 wrought desolation. It is given to inventive 
 skill to search out wellsprings and smite rocks 
 
 38 
 
Helpfialness of the Higher Manhood. 
 
 into living water. It is given to affection to 
 hive sweetness like honeycombs. It is given 
 to wit and imagination to produce perpetual 
 joy and gladness. It is given to love in 
 the person of a Duff, a Judson, and a 
 Xavier to transform dark continents. Great 
 is the power of love! "No abandoned boy in 
 the city, no red ma^ in the mountains, no 
 negro in Africa can resist its sweet solicitude. 
 It undermines like a wave, it rends like an 
 earthquake, it melts like a fire, it inspires like 
 music, it binds like a chain, it detains like a 
 good story, it cheers like a sunbeam." No 
 other power is immeasurable. For things 
 have only partial influence over living men. 
 Forests, fields, skies, tools, occupations, in- 
 dustries — these all stop in the outer court of 
 the soul. It is given to affection alone to en- 
 ter the sacred inner precincts. But once the 
 good man comes his power is irresistible. 
 Witness Arnold among the schoolboys at 
 Rugby. Witness Garibaldi and his peas- 
 ant soldiers. Witness the Scottish chief 
 and his devoted clan. Witness artist pupils 
 inflamed by their masters. What a noble 
 group is that headed by Horace Mann, 
 Garrison, Phillips and Ijincoln ! General 
 Booth belongs to a like group. What a min- 
 istry of mercy and fertility and protection have 
 
 39 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 these great hearts wrought! Great hearts be- 
 come a shelter in time of storm. 
 
 All social reforms begin with some great 
 heart. Much now is being said of the destitu- 
 tion in the poorer districts of great cities. 
 Dante saw a second hell deeper than hell itself. 
 Each great modern city hath its inferno. Here 
 dwell costermongers, rag-pickers and street- 
 cleaners; here the sweater hath his haunts. 
 Huge rookeries and tenements, whose every 
 brick exudes filth, teem with miserable folk. 
 Each room has one or more families, from the 
 second cellar at the bottom to the garret at the 
 top. No greensward, no park, no blade of grass. 
 Whole districts are as bare of beauty as an en- 
 larged ash-heap. Here children are ' ' spawned, 
 not born, and die like flies. " Here men and 
 women grow bitter. Here anarchy grows 
 rank. And to such a district in one great city 
 has gone a man of the finest scholarship and 
 the highest position, to become the friend of 
 the poor. With him is his bosom friend, hav- 
 ing wealth and culture, with pictures, mar- 
 bles and curios. Every afternoon they invite 
 several hundred poor women to spend an hour 
 in the conservatory among the flowers. Every 
 evening with stereopticon they take a thou- 
 sand boys or men upon a journey to Italy 
 or Egypt or Japan. The kindergartens, pub- 
 
 40 
 
Helpfulness of the Higher Manhood. 
 
 lie schools and art exhibits cause these women 
 and children to forget for a time their misery. 
 One hour daily is redeemed from sorrow to joy 
 by beautiful things and kindly surroundings. 
 Love and sympathy have sheltered them 
 from life's fierce heat. Bitter lives are slowly 
 being sweetened. Springs are being opened 
 in the desert. These great hearts have become 
 " the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." 
 The Russian reformer, novelist and philan- 
 thropist, had an experience that profoundly in- 
 fluenced his career. Famine had wrought 
 great suffering in Russia. One day the good 
 poet passed a beggar on the street corner. 
 Stretching out gaunt hands, with blue lips and 
 watery eyes, the miserable creature asked an 
 alms. Quickly the author felt for a copper. He 
 turned his pockets inside out. He was without 
 purse or ring or any gift. Then the kind man 
 took the beggar's hand in both of his and said : 
 "Do not be angry with me, brother; I have 
 nothing with me ! " The gaunt face lighted up; 
 the man lifted his bloodshot eyes ; his blue lips 
 parted in a smile. ' 'But you called me brother 
 — that was a great gift. " Returning an hour 
 later he found the smile he had kindled still 
 lingered on the beggar's face. His body had 
 been cold; kindness had made his heart warm. 
 The good man was as a covert in time of storm. 
 
 41 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 History and experience exhibit now and 
 then a man as unyielding as rock in friend- 
 ships. Years ago a gifted youth began his lit- 
 erary career. Wealth, travel, friends, all good 
 gifts were his. One day a friend handed him 
 a telegram containing news of his father's 
 death. Then the mother faded away. The 
 youth was alone in the world. In that hour 
 evil companions gathered around him. -They 
 spoiled him of his fresh innocency. They 
 taught the delicate boy to listen to salacity 
 without blushing. Soon coarse quips and rude 
 jests ceased to shock him. He thought to "see 
 life" by seeing the wrecks of manhood and 
 womanhood. But does one study architecture 
 by visiting hovels and squalid cabins? Is not 
 studying architecture seeing the finest man- 
 sions and galleries and cathedrals? So to see 
 life is to see manhood at its best and woman- 
 hood when carried up to culture and beauty. 
 
 Wasting his fortune this youth wasted also 
 his friendships. One man loved him for his 
 father's sake. For several years every Satur- 
 day night witnessed this man of oak and rock 
 going from den to den looking for his old 
 friend's boy. One day he wrote the youth a 
 letter telling him, whether or not he found 
 him, so long as he lived he would be looking 
 for him every Saturday night in hope of re- 
 
 42 
 
Helpfulness of the Higher Manhood. 
 
 deeming him again to integrity. What noth- 
 ing else could do love did. Kindness wrought 
 its miracle. Clasping hands the man and boy 
 climbed back again to the heights. At first 
 the integrity was at best a poor, sickly plant. 
 But his friend was a refuge in time of storm. 
 A good man became the shadow of a great 
 rock in life's weary land. 
 
 Our age is specially interested in the rela- 
 tion of happiness to the street, the market 
 and counting-room. We have not yet acknowl- 
 edged the responsibility of strength. Not 
 always have our giant minds confessed the debt 
 of power to weakness ; the debt of wisdom to 
 ignorance; the debt of wealth to poverty; the 
 debt of holiness to iniquity. Jesus Christ was 
 the first to incarnate this principle. By so 
 much as the parent is wiser than the babe for 
 building a protecting shield for happiness and 
 well-being, by that much is the mother in- 
 debted to her babe. Why is one man more 
 successful than another in the street's fierce 
 conflict? Because he has more resources; is 
 prudent, thrifty, quick to seize upon oppor- 
 tunity, sagacious, keen of judgment. All these 
 qualities are birth-gifts. The ancestral foot- 
 hills slope upward toward the mountain-minded. 
 And what do these distinguished mental qual- 
 ities involve? 
 
 43 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 Recognizing the responsibility of men of 
 leisure and wealth, John Ruskin said: " Shall 
 one by breadth and sweep of sight gather some 
 branch of the commerce of the country into one 
 great cobweb of which he is himself to be the 
 master spider, making every thread vibrate 
 with the points of his claws, and commanding 
 every avenue with the facets of his eyes? " 
 Shall the industrial or political giant say : ' 'Here 
 is the power in my hand; weakness owes me a 
 debt? Build a mound here for me to be throned 
 upon. Come, weave tapestries for my feet that I 
 may tread in silk and purple; dance before me 
 that I may be glad, and sing sweetly to me that 
 I may slumber. So shall I live in joy and die 
 in honor." Rather than such an honorable 
 death, it were better that the day perish 
 wherein such strength was born. Rather let 
 the great mind become also the great heart, 
 and stretch out his scepter over the heads of 
 the common people that stoop to its waving. 
 "Let me help you subdue the obstacle that 
 baffled our fathers, and put away the plagues 
 that consume our children. Let us together 
 water these dry places; plow these desert 
 moons ; carry this food to those who are in hun- 
 ger; carry this light to those who are in dark- 
 ness ; carry this life to those who are in death. " 
 
 Superiority is to make erring men unerring 
 
 44 
 
Helpfulness of the Higher Manhood. 
 
 and slow minds swift. Then, indeed, comes the 
 better day — ^pray God it be not far off — when 
 strength uses its wealth as the net of the 
 sacred fisher to gather souls of men out of 
 the deep. 
 
 In overplus of strength we have the meas- 
 ure of a jnan's greatness. Soul-power is re- 
 source for finding and feeding the hidden 
 springs of life and thought in others. Not 
 all have the same capacity. The Lord of the 
 vineyard still sends into the white fields ten- 
 talent men, two-talent men and one-talent 
 men. Each hath his own task, and each must 
 grasp the handle of his own being. Genius is 
 widely distributed. Not many Platos — only 
 one, and then a thousand lesser minds look up 
 to him and learn to think. Not many Dantes 
 — one, and a thousand poets tune their lyres to 
 his and catch its notes. Not many Raphaels 
 — one, and a thousand aspiring artists look up 
 to him and are lifted by the look. Not many 
 royal hearts — great magazines of kindness. 
 Few are great in heart-power, effulging all 
 sweet and generous qualities. Happy the 
 community blessed with a few great hearts 
 and a few great minds. One such will civilize 
 a whole community. 
 
 Classic literature charmed our childhood 
 with the story of an Arabian sheik. He 
 
 45 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 dwelt in an oasis near the edge of the desert. 
 Wealth was his, with flocks and herds and 
 wedges of gold. One night sleep forsook his 
 couch. Yet the gurgle of falling water was 
 in his ear. The odors of the vineyard were 
 in his nostril; and to-morrow his servants 
 would begin to gather the abundant harvest 
 Ten miles away ran the track of the caravan 
 where his herdsmen had found a traveler dead 
 from the fierce heat of the desert. Yonder 
 the desert and a dying traveler; here an oasis 
 with living water. Then the sheik arose; he 
 bade his servants fill two leathern water-bot- 
 tles and bring a basket full of figs and grapes. 
 The next day a caravan came to a booth pro- 
 tecting two water-bottles sunk in the sand. 
 Beside them were bunches of fruit. On a 
 roll were these words : ' ' While God gives me 
 life each day shall a man be — as springs of 
 water in a desert place." This beautiful story 
 interprets for us the ministry of the higher 
 manhood, as the great heart becomes the 
 shadow of a great rock in a weary land. 
 
 This law of human helpfulness asks each 
 man to carry himself so as to bless and not 
 blight men, to make and not mar them. Be- 
 sides the great ends of attaining character 
 here and immortality hereafter, we are bound 
 to so administer our talents as to make right 
 
 46 
 
Helpfulness of the HigRer Manhood. 
 
 living easy and smooth for others. Happy is 
 he whose soul automatically oils all the ma- 
 chinery of the home, the market and the 
 street. And this ambition to be universally 
 helpful must not be a transient and occa- 
 sional one — here and there an hour's friend- 
 ship, a passing hint of sympathy, a transient 
 gleam of kindness. Heart helpfulness is to 
 enter into the fundamental conceptions of our 
 living. With vigilant care man is to expel 
 every element that vexes or irritates or chafes 
 just as the husbandman expels nettles and 
 poison ivy from fruitful gardens. 
 
 For nothing is so easily wrecked as the soul. 
 As mechanisms go up toward complexity, deli- 
 cacy increases. The fragile vase is ruined by 
 a single tap. A chance blow destroys the 
 statue. A bit of sand ruins the delicate 
 mechanism. But the soul is even more sensi- 
 tive to injury. It is marred by a word or a 
 look. Men are responsible for the ruin they 
 work unthinkingly. To-day the engine drops 
 a spark behind it. To-morrow that engine is 
 a thousand miles away. Yet the spark left be- 
 hind is now a column of fire mowing down 
 the forests. And that devastating column 
 belongs not to another, but to that engine 
 that hath journeyed far. Thus the evil man 
 does lives after him. The condemnation of 
 
 47 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 life is that a man hath carried friction and 
 stirred up malign elements and sowed fiery 
 discords, so that the gods track him by the 
 swath of destruction he hath cut through 
 life. The praise of life is that a man hath 
 exhaled bounty and stimulus and joy and 
 gladness wherever he journeys. To-day noble 
 examples and ten thousand precepts unite in 
 urging every one to become a great heart. 
 Every individual must bring together his 
 little group of pilgrim friends, companions, 
 employes, using whatever he has of wisdom 
 and skill for guiding those who follow him on 
 their desert march. For happiness is through 
 helpfulness. Every morning let us build a 
 booth to shelter someone from life's fierce heat. 
 Every noon let us dig some life-spring for 
 thirsty lips. Every night let us be food for 
 the hungry and shelter for the cold and naked. 
 The law of the higher manhood asks man to 
 be a great heart, the shadow of a rock in a 
 weary land. 
 
 48 
 
The Investment of Talent 
 AND Its Return. 
 
"The universal blunder of this world is in thinking that 
 there are certain persons put into the world to govern and certain 
 others to obey. Everybody is in this world to govern and every- 
 body to obey. There are no benefactors and no beneficiaries in 
 distinct classes. Every man is at once both benefactor and bene- 
 ficiary. Every good deed you do you ought to thank your fellow- 
 man for giving you an opportunity to do ; and they ought to be 
 thankful to you for doing it.** — Phillips Brooks* 
 
 " Pity is love and something more ; love at its utmost.'* 
 
 — r. T. Munger, ^^Freedom of FaitA." 
 
 "The great idea that the Bible is the history of mankind's 
 deliverance from all tyranny, outward as well as inward ; of the 
 Jews, as the one free constitutional people. among a world of slaves 
 and tyrants ; of their ruin, as the righteous fruit of a voluntary 
 return to despotism ; of the New Testament, as the good news 
 that freedom, brotherhood, equality, once confided only to Ju- 
 dea and to Greece, and dimly seen even there, was henceforth to be 
 the right of all manldnd, the law of all society — who was there 
 to tell me that ? Who is there now to go forth and tell it to the 
 millions who have suffered and doubted and despaired like me, 
 and turn the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, 
 before the great and terrible day of the Lord come ? Again I 
 ask — who will go forth and preach that gospel aiid save his native 
 land ?"— CAar/e* Kingsley, "jiilton Loch," 
 
CHAPTER in. 
 
 The Investment of Talent 
 AND Its Return. 
 
 In all ages man has been stimulated to 
 sowing by the certainty of reaping. To- 
 morrow's sheaves and shoutings support to- 
 day's tearful sowing. Certainty of victory 
 wins battles before they are fought. Armed 
 with confidence patriots have beaten down 
 stone castles with naked fists. Uncertainty 
 makes the heart sick, takes nerve out of 
 arm and tension out of thought. The mere 
 rumor of war along the border-lines of nations 
 destroys enterprise and industry. Men will 
 not plow if warhorses are to trample down 
 the ripe grain. Men will not buUd if the 
 enemy are to warm hands over blazing raft- 
 ers. Why should the husbandman plant vines 
 if others are to wrest away his fruit? The 
 individual and the race need the stimulus of 
 hope and a rational basis of security that 
 nothing shall cut the connection between the 
 causes sown and the effects to be reaped. 
 Therefore, the divine word: "Send forth 
 thy gift and talent, and nature and provi- 
 
 5^ 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 dence shall invest it securely and give the 
 talent back with interest and increase. " 
 
 What a promise for civilization was that of 
 Christ: "Give and it shall be given unto 
 you!" Let the husbandman give his seed to 
 the furrows ; soon the furrows will give back 
 big bundles into the sower's arms. Let the 
 vintner give the sweat of his brow to the vines ; 
 soon the vines will give back the rich purple 
 floods. Give thy thought, O husbandman I to 
 the wild rice; soon nature will give back the 
 rice plump wheat. Give thyself, O inventor I 
 to the raw ores, and nature will give thee the 
 forceful tools. Give thyself, O reformer ! to 
 the desert world; soon the world-desert will be 
 given back a world-garden. Give sparingly 
 to nature, and sparingly shalt thou receive 
 again. Give bountifully, and bounty shall be 
 given back. Give scant thought and drag but 
 one plank to the stream, and thou shalt receive 
 only a narrow bridge across the brook. Give 
 abundant thought to wires and cables and but- 
 tresses, and nature will give the bridge across 
 the Firth of Forth. Give God thy one talent 
 and, investing it, he returns ten. Give the cup 
 of cold water and thou shalt have rivers of 
 water of life. Share thy crust and thy cloak, 
 and thou shalt have baiiquet and robe and 
 house of many mansions. This is the pledge 
 
 52 
 
The Investment of Talent. 
 
 of nature and God : ' ' Give, and good measure 
 pressed down and shaken together, shalt thou 
 receive of celestial reapers." The history of 
 progress is the history of Christ's challenge 
 and man's response. 
 
 Christianity deals in universals. Its prin- 
 ciples are not local nor racial nor temporary. 
 They are meridian lines taking in all forces, 
 men and movements. Nature, too, saith: "Give 
 and it shall be given unto you." The sun 
 gives heat to the forests, and afterward the 
 burning coal and tree give heat back to the 
 heavens; the arctics give icebergs and frigid 
 streams for cooling the fierce tropics, and the 
 tropics give back the warm Gulf Stream. The 
 soil in the spring gives its treasures to the 
 growing tree, and in the autumn the tree gives 
 its leaves to make the soil richer and deeper. 
 Personal also is this principle. Give thy body 
 food and thy body will give thee mental 
 strength. Give thy blow to the ax, and the 
 ax will return the fallen tree, with strong tools 
 for thy arm. Give thy brain sleep and rest 
 and thy brain will give thy thought nimble- 
 ness. Give thy mind to rocks, and the rook 
 pages will give thee wealth of wisdom. Give 
 thy thought to the fire and water, and they 
 will give thee an engine stronger than 
 tamed lions. Give thy scrutiny to the thun- 
 
 53 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 derbolt leaping from the east to the west, and 
 the lightnings shall give themselves back to 
 \hee as noiseless and gentle and obedient 
 as the sunlight. Give thy mind to books 
 and libraries, and the literature and lore of the 
 ages will give thee the wisdom of sage and 
 seer. Let some hero give his love and self- 
 sacrificing service to the poor in prisons, and 
 society will give him in return monuments and 
 grateful memory. Give thy obedience to con- 
 science, and God, whom conscience serves, will 
 give Himself to thee. 
 
 Being a natural principle, this law is also 
 spiritual. Standing by his mother's knee 
 each child hears the story of the echo. The 
 boy visiting in the mountains, when he 
 called aloud found that he was mocked by 
 a hidden stranger boy. The insult made 
 him very angry. So he shouted back insults 
 and epithets. But each of. these bad words was 
 returned to him from the rocks above. With 
 bitter tears the child returned to his mother, 
 who sent him back to give the hidden stranger 
 kind words and affectionate greetings. Lo! 
 the stranger now echoed back his kindliness. 
 Thus society echoes back each temperament 
 and each career. Evermore man receives what 
 he first gives to nature and society and God. 
 History is rich in interpretation of this 
 
 54 
 
The Investment of Talent. 
 
 principle. In every age man has received from 
 society what he has given to society. This con- 
 tinent lay waiting for ages for the seed of civil- 
 ization. At length the sower went forth to sow. 
 Landing in midwinter upon a bleak coast, the 
 fathers gave themselves to cutting roads, 
 draining swamps, subduing grasses, rear- 
 ing villages, until all the land was sown 
 with the good seed of liberty and Christian 
 civilization. Afterward, when tyranny threat- 
 ened liberty, these worthies in defending their 
 institutions gave life itself. Dying, they be- 
 queathed their treasures to after generations. 
 At length an enemy, darkling, lifted weapons 
 for destroying, Would these who had received 
 institutions nourished with blood, give life-blood 
 in return? The uprising of 1861 is the answer. 
 Then the people rose as one man, the plow 
 stood in the furrow, the hammer fell from 
 the hand, workroom and college hall were alike 
 deserted — a half-million men laid down their 
 lives upon many a battle-field. Similarly, 
 the honor given to Washington during these 
 last few days tells us that the patriot who gives 
 shall receive. From the day when the young 
 Virginian entered the Indian forests with Brad- 
 dock to the day when he lay dying at Mount 
 Vernon the patriot gave his health, his wealth, 
 his time, his life, a living sacrifice through 
 
 55 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 eight and forty years. Now every year the 
 people, rising up early and sitting up late, re- 
 hearse to their children the story of his life and 
 work. Having given himself, honor shall he 
 receive through all the ages. 
 
 To Abraham Lincoln also came the word: 
 "Give and thou shalt receive!" Sitting in the 
 White House the President proclaimed equal 
 rights to black and white. Then, with shouts 
 of joy, three million slaves entered the temple 
 of liberty. But they bore the emancipator 
 upon their shoulders and enshrined him for- 
 ever in the temple of fame, where he who gave 
 bountifully shall receive bountiful honor 
 through all the ages. There, too, in the far- 
 off past stands an uplifted cross. Flinging 
 wide his arms this crowned sufferer sought to 
 lift the world back to his Father's side. In 
 life he gave his testimony against hypocrisy, 
 Phariseeism and cruelty. For years he gave 
 himself to the publican, the sinner, the prodi- 
 gal, the poor in mind or heart, and so came at 
 }ength to his pitiless execution. But, having 
 given himself in abandon of love, the world 
 straightway gave itself in return. Every one 
 of his twelve disciples determined to achieve a 
 violent death for the Christ who gave himself 
 for them. Paul was beheaded in Rome. John 
 was tortured in Patmos. Andrew and James 
 
 56 
 
The Investment of Talent. 
 
 were crucified in Asia. The rest were mobbed, 
 or stoned, or tortured to death. And as years 
 sped on man kept giving. Multitudes went 
 forth, burning for him in the tropics, 
 freezing for him in the arctics, threading for 
 him the forest paths, braving for him the 
 swamps, that they might serve his little ones. 
 He gave himself for the world, and the world, 
 in a passion of love, will yet give itself back to 
 him. 
 
 Becently the officials of the commonwealth 
 of Massachusetts and the noblest citizens of 
 Boston assembled for celebrating the one hun- 
 dredth anniversary of the birth of George 
 Peabody. For a like purpose the citizens of 
 London came together in banquet hall. Now, 
 the banker had long been dead. Nor did he 
 leave children to keep his name before the 
 public. How shall we account for two conti- 
 nents giving him such praise and fame? 
 George Peabody received from his fellows, 
 because he first gave to his fellows. To his 
 genius for accumulation he added the genius of 
 distribution. His large gifts to Harvard and 
 Yale, to Salem and Peabody, made to science 
 and art as well as to philanthropy and religion, 
 secured perpetual remembrance. When the 
 public credit of the State of Maryland was en- 
 dangered, he negotiated $8,000,000 in London 
 
 57 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 and gave his entire commission of $200,000 
 back to the State. He who gave $3,500,000 
 for founding schools and colleges in the South 
 for black and white, could not but receive honor 
 and praise. Therefore the eulogies pronounced 
 by the legislators in Annapolis. As a banker in 
 London he was disturbed by the sorrows of 
 the poor, and for months gave himself to an 
 investigation of the tenement-house system, 
 developing the Peabody Tenements, to which 
 he gave $2,500,000, and helped 20,000 people 
 to remove from dens into buildings that were 
 light and sweet and wholesome. Therefore 
 when he died in London the English nation 
 that had received from him gave to him, and, 
 for the first time in history, the gates of West- 
 minister Abbey were thrown open for the 
 funeral services of a foreigner. Therefore, the 
 Prime Minister of England selected the swift- 
 est frigate in the English navy for carrying 
 his body back to his native land. His gen- 
 erosity radiated in every direction, not in 
 trickling rivulets, but in copious streams. 
 Bountifully he gave to men ; therefore, through 
 innumerable orations, sermons, editorials and 
 toasts, men vied with each other in giving 
 praise and honor back to Peabody, the bene- 
 factor of the people. 
 
 Society, always sensitive to generosity, is 
 
 58 
 
The Investment of Talent. 
 
 equally sensitive to selfishness. He who 
 treats his fellows as so many clusters to be 
 squeezed into his cup, who spoils the world for 
 self aggrandizement, finds at last that he has 
 burglarized his own soul. Here is a man who 
 says: "Come right, come wrong, I will get 
 gain." Loving ease, he lashes himself to 
 unceasing toil by day and night. Needing rest 
 on Sunday, he denies himself respite and 
 scourges his jaded body and brain into new 
 activities. Every thought is a thread to be 
 woven into a golden net. He lifts his life to 
 strike as miners lift their picks. He swings 
 his" body as harvesters their scythes. He will 
 make himself an augur for boring, a chisel for 
 drilling, a muck-rake for scratching, if only he 
 may get gain. He will sweat and swelter and 
 burn in the tropics until malaria has made his 
 face as yellow as gold, if thereby he can fill his 
 purse, and for a like end he will shiver and 
 ache in the arctics. He will deny his ear music, 
 he will deny his mind culture, he will deny his 
 heart friendship that he may coin concerts and 
 social delights into cash. At length the short- 
 ness of breath startles him; the stoppage of 
 blood alarms him. Then he retires to receive — 
 what? To receive from nature that which he 
 has given to nature. Once he denied his ear 
 melody, and now taste in return denies him 
 
 59 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 pleasure. Once he denied his mind books, and 
 now books refuse to give him comfort. Once 
 he denied himself friendship, and now men 
 refuse him their love. Having received noth- 
 ing from him, the great world has no invest- 
 ment to return to him. Such a life, entering 
 the harbor of old age, is like unto a bestormed 
 ship with empty coal bins, whose crew fed the 
 furnace, first with tfie cargo and then with the 
 furniture, and reached the harbor, having 
 made the ship a burned-out shell. God buries 
 the souls of many men long years before their 
 bodies are carried to the graveyard. 
 
 This principle tells us why nature and so- 
 ciety are so prodigal with treasures to some 
 men and so niggardly to others. What a dif- 
 ferent thing a forest is to different men! He 
 who gives the ax receives a mast. He who 
 gives taste receives a picture. He who gives 
 imagination receives a poem. He who gives 
 faith hears the "goings of God in the tree- 
 tops." The charcoal-burner fronts an oak for 
 finding out how many cords of wood are in it, 
 as the Goths of old fronted peerless temples 
 for estimating how many huts they could 
 quarry from the stately pile.* But an artist 
 curses the woodsman for making the tree food 
 for ax and saw. It has become to him as sacred 
 as the cathedral within which he bares his head. 
 •Mod. Ptrs., Vol. 5, Chap. 1. The Earth— Veil 
 Star papers: A Walk Among Trees. 
 60 
 
The Investment of Talent. 
 
 It is a temple where birds praise God. It is a 
 harp with endless music for the summer winds. 
 It fills his eye with beauty and his ear with 
 rustling melodies. 
 
 For the poet that selfsame oak is enshrined 
 in a thousand noble associations. It sings for 
 him like a hymn ; it shines like a vision ; it sug- 
 gests ships, storms and ocean battles; the spear 
 of Launcelot; the forests of Arden; old baronial 
 halls mellow with lights falling on oaken floors; 
 King Arthur's banqueting chamber. To the 
 scientist's thought the oak is a vital mechan- 
 ism. By day and by night, the long summer 
 through, it lifts tons of moisture and forces 
 it into the wide-spreading branches, but 
 without the rattle of huge engines. With 
 what uproar and clang of iron hammers would 
 stones be crushed that are dissolved noiselessly 
 by the rootlets and recomposed in stems and 
 boughs ! What a vast laboratory is here, every 
 root and leaf an expert chemist! 
 
 For other multitudes the earth has become 
 only a huge stable; its fruit fodder; its granaries 
 ricks, out of which men-cattle feed. These esti- 
 mate a man's value according as he has lifted his 
 ax upon tall trees and ravaged all the loveliness 
 of creation ; whose curse is the Nebuchadnezzar 
 curse, giving to nature the tongue and hand, 
 and receiving from nature grass; who are 
 
 6i 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 doomed to love the corn they grind, tp hear 
 only the roar of the whirlwind and the crash of 
 the hail, never <'the still small voice;" who see 
 what is written in lamp-black and lightning; 
 who think the clouds are for rain, and know 
 not that they are chariots, thrones and celestial 
 highways; that the sunset means something 
 else than sleep, and the morning suggests 
 something other than work. All these give 
 nature only thought for food, and food only 
 shall they receive from nature, until all their 
 deeds are plowed down in dust. Give forth 
 thy gift, young men and maidens, and accord- 
 ing as thou givest thou shalt receive fruit, or 
 picture, or poem, or temple, or ladder let 
 down from heaven, or angel aspirations 
 going up. 
 
 Conscience also receives its gifts and makes 
 a return. Give thy body obedience and it will 
 return happiness and health. Give overdrafts 
 and excesses and it will return sleepless nights 
 and suffering days., Man's sins are seeds, his 
 sufferings harvests. Every action is embry-: 
 onic, and according as it is right or wrong will 
 ripen into sweet fruits of pleasure or poison 
 fruits of pain. Some seeds hold two germs; 
 and vice and penalty are wrapped up under one 
 covering. Sins are self-registering and pen- 
 alties are automatic. The brain keeps a 
 
 62 
 
The Investment of Talent. 
 
 double set of books, and at last visits its pun- 
 ishments. Conscience does not wait for so- 
 ciety to ferret out iniquity, but daily executes 
 judgment. Policemen may slumber and the 
 judge may nod, but the nerves are always 
 active, memory never sleeps, conscience is 
 never off duty. The recoil of the gun bruises 
 black the shoulder of him who holds it, and 
 sin is a weapon that kills at both ends. 
 
 In the olden days, when the poisoner was in 
 every palace, the Doge of Venice offered a re- 
 ward for a crystal goblet that would break the 
 moment a poison touched it. Perhaps the idea 
 was suggested to the Prince because his soul 
 already fulfilled the thought, for one drop of 
 sin always shatters the cup of joy and wastes 
 life's precious wine. How do events interpret 
 this principle! One day Louis, King of 
 France, was riding in the forest near his gor- 
 geous and guilty palace of Versailles. He 
 met a peasant carrying a coffin. "What did 
 the man die of ?" asked the King. "Of hun- 
 ger," answered the peasant. But the sound of 
 the hunt was in the King's ear, and he forgot 
 the cry of want. Soon the day came when 
 the King stood before the guillotine, and 
 with mute appeals for mercy fronted a mob 
 silent as statues, unyielding as stone, grimly 
 waiting to dip the ends of their pikes in regal 
 
 ^2 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 blood. He gave cold looks ; he received cold 
 Iteel. 
 
 Marie Antoinette, riding to Notre Dame 
 for her bridal, bade her soldiers command 
 all beggars, cripples and ragged people to 
 leave the line of the procession. The Queen 
 could not endure for a brief moment the sight 
 of those miserable ones doomed to unceasing 
 squalor and poverty. What she gave others 
 she received herself, for soon, bound in an ex- 
 ecutioner's cart, she was riding toward the 
 place of execution midst crowds who gazed 
 upon her with hearts as cold as ice and hard 
 as granite. When Foulon was asked how the 
 starving populace was to live he answered: 
 "Let them eat grass." Afterward, Carlyle 
 says, the mob, maddened with rage, "caught 
 him in the streets of Paris,' hanged him, stuck 
 his head upon a pike, filled his mouth with 
 grass, amid shouts as of Tophet from a grass- 
 eating people." What kings and princes gave 
 they received. This is the voice of nature and 
 conscience: "Behold, sin crouches at the 
 doorl" 
 
 This divine principle also explains man's 
 attitude toward his fellows. The proverb 
 says man makes his own world. Each 
 sees what is in himself, not what is out- 
 side. The jaundiced eye yellows all it be- 
 
The Investment of Talent. 
 
 holds. The chameleon takes its color from 
 the bark on which it clings. Man gives his 
 color to what his thought is fastened upon. 
 The pessimist's darkness makes all things 
 dingy. The youth disappointed with his Euro- 
 pean trip said he was a fool for going. He 
 was, for the reason that he was a fool before he 
 started. He saw nothing without, because he 
 had no vision within. He gave no sight, he 
 received no vision. An artist sees in each 
 Madonna that which compels a rude mob to 
 uncover in prayer, but the savage perceives 
 only a colored canvas. Recently a foreign 
 traveler, writing of his impressions of our city, 
 described it to his fellows as a veritable hades. 
 But his fellow countryman, in a similar vol- 
 ume, recorded his impressions of our art, arch- 
 itecture and interest in education. Each saw 
 that for which he looked. 
 
 This principle explains man's attitude 
 toward his God. God governs rocks by 
 force, animals by fear, savage man by force 
 and fear, true men by hope and love. Man 
 can take God at whatsoever level he pleases. 
 He who by beastliness turns his body into 
 a log will be held by gravity in one spot 
 like a log. He who lives on a level with the 
 animals will receive fear and law and light- 
 nings. He who approaches God through laws 
 
 65 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 of light and heat and electricity will find the 
 world-throne occupied by an infinite Agassiz. 
 Some approach God through physical senses. 
 They behold his storms sinking ships, his tor- 
 nadoes mowing down forests. These find him 
 a huge Hercules; yet the Judge who seems 
 cruel to the wicked criminal may seem the 
 embodiment of gentleness and kindness to his 
 obedient children. Man determines what God 
 shall be to him. Each paints his own picture 
 of Deity. Macbeth sees him with forked light- 
 nings without and volcanic fires within. The 
 pure in heart see him as the face of all-clasping 
 Love. Give him thy heart and he will give thee 
 love, effulgent love, like the affection of mother 
 or lover or friend, only dearer than either. 
 Give him thy ways, and he will overarch life's 
 path as the heavens overarch the flowers, fill- 
 ing them with heat by day and yielding cool- 
 ing dews by night. Give him but a flickering 
 aspiration and he will give thee balm for the 
 bruised reed and flame for the smoking flax. 
 Give him the publican's prayer and he will give 
 thee mercy like the wideness of the sea. Give 
 his little ones but a cup of cold water and he 
 will give thee to drink of the water of the river 
 of life and bring thee to the banquet hall in 
 the house of many mansions. 
 
 66 
 
Vicarious Lives as Instruments of 
 Social Progress. 
 
" Only he that uses shall even so much as keep. Unem- 
 ployed strength steadily diminishes. The sluggard's arm grows 
 soft and flabby. So, even in this lowest sphere, the law is in- 
 exorable. Having is using. Not using is losing. Idleness is par- 
 alysis. New triumphs must only dictate new struggles. If it be 
 Alexander of Macedon, the Orontes must suggest the Euphrates, 
 and the Euphrates the Indus. Always it must be on and on. 
 One night of rioting in Babylon may arrest the conquering march. 
 Genius is essentially athletic, resolute, aggressive, persistent. Pos- 
 session is grip, that tightens more and more. Ceasing to gain, we 
 begin to lose. Ceasing to advance, we begin to retrograde. Brief 
 was the interval between Roman conquest of Barbarians, and Bar- 
 barian conquest of Rome. Blessed is the man who keeps out of 
 the hospital and holds his place in the ranks. Blessed the man, 
 the last twang of whose bow-string is as sharp as any that went 
 before, sending its arrow as surely to the mark." — Rosivell ty. 
 Hitciaei, 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Vicarious Lives as Instruments of 
 Social Progress. 
 
 The eleventh chapter of Hebrews has been 
 called the picture-gallery of heroes. These 
 patriots and martyrs who won our first 
 battles for liberty and religion made noble- 
 ness epidemic. Oft stoned and mobbed in 
 the cities they founded and loved, they fled 
 into exile, where they wandered in deserts and 
 mountains and caves and slept in the holes of 
 the earth. Falling at last in the wilderness, 
 it may be said that no man knoweth their sep. 
 ulcher and none their names. But joyfully let 
 us confess that the institutions most eminent 
 and excellent in our day represent the very 
 principles for which these martyrs died and, 
 dying, conquered. For these heroes were the 
 first to dare earth's despots. They won the 
 first victory over every form of vice and sin. 
 They wove the first threads of the flag of lib- 
 erty and made it indeed the banner of the 
 morning, for they dyed it crimson in their 
 heart's-blood. In all the history of freedom 
 there is no chapter comparable for a moment 
 to the gloriovis achievements of these men of 
 
 69 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 oak and rock. Their deeds shine on the pages 
 of history like stars blazing in the night and 
 their achievements have long been celebrated 
 in song and story. " The angels of martyrdom 
 and victory," says Mazzini, "are brothers; 
 both extend protecting wings over the cradle 
 of the future life." 
 
 Sometimes it has happened that the brave deed 
 of a single patriot has rallied wavering hosts, 
 flashed the lightning through the centuries, and 
 kindled whole nations into a holy enthusiasm. 
 The opposing legions of soldiers and inquisitors 
 went down before the heroism of the early 
 church as darkness flees before the advancing 
 sunshine. Society admires the scholar, but 
 man loves the hero. Wisdom shines, but 
 bravery inspires and lifts. Though centuries 
 have passed, these noble deeds still nourish 
 man's bravery and endurance. It was not 
 given to these leaders to enter into the fruits 
 of their labors. Vicariously they died. With 
 a few exceptions, their very names remain un- 
 known. But let us hasten to confess that 
 their vicarious suffering stayed the onset of 
 despotism and achieved our liberty. They 
 ransomed us from serfdom and bought our 
 liberty with a great price. Compared to 
 those, our bravest deeds do seem but bram- 
 bles to the oaks at whose feet they grow. 
 
 70 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 Having made much of the pripciples of the 
 solidarity of society, science is now engaged in 
 emphasizing the principle of vicarious service 
 and suffering. The consecrated blood of yes- 
 terday is seen to be the social and spiritual 
 capital of to-day. Indeed, the civil, intellect- 
 ual and religious freedom and hope of our age 
 are only the moral courage and suffering of 
 past ages, reappearing under new and re- 
 splendent forms. The social vines that shelter 
 us, the civic bough whose clusters feed us, all 
 spring out of ancient graves. The red cur- 
 rents of sacrifice and the tides of the heart 
 have nourished these social growths and made 
 their blossoms crimson and brilliant. Nor 
 could these treasures have been gained other- 
 wise. Nature grants no free favors. Every 
 wise law, institution and custom must be paid 
 for with corresponding treasure. Thought 
 itself takes toll from the brain. To be loved is 
 good, indeed; but love must be paid for with 
 toil, endurance, sacrifice — fuel that feeds love's 
 flame. 
 
 Generous giving to-day is a great joy, but 
 it is made possible only by years of thrift 
 and economy. The wine costs the clusters. 
 The linen costs the flax. The furniture costs 
 the forests. The heat in the house costs the 
 coal in the cellar. Wealth costs much toil and 
 
 71 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 sweat by day. Wisdom costs much study and 
 long vigils by night. Leadership costs instant 
 and untiring pains and service. Character 
 costs the long, fierce conflict with vice and 
 sin. When Keats, walking in the rose garden, 
 saw the ground under the bushes all covered 
 with pink petals, he exclaimed; "Next year 
 the roses should be very red!" When Mneas 
 tore the bough from the myrtle tree, Virgil 
 says the tree exuded blood. But this is only 
 a poet's way of saying that civilization is a 
 tree that is nourished, not by rain and snow, 
 but by the tears and blood of the patriots and 
 prophets of yesterday. 
 
 Fortunately, in manifold ways, nature and 
 life witness to the universality of vicarious 
 service and suffering. Indeed, the very basis 
 of the doctrine of evolution is the fact that the 
 life of the higher rests upon the death of the 
 lower. The astronomers tell us that the sun 
 ripens our harvests by burning itself up. Each 
 golden sheaf, each orange bough, each bunch 
 of figs, costs the sun thousands of tons of car- 
 bon. Geike, the geologist, shows us that the 
 valleys grow rich and deep with soil through 
 the mountains, growing bare and being denuded 
 of their treasure. Beholding the valleys of 
 France and the plains of Italy all gilded with 
 corn and fragrant with deep grass, where the 
 
 72 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 violets and buttercups wave aud toss in the 
 summer wind, travelers often forget that the 
 beauty of the plains was bought, at a great 
 price, by the bareness of the mountains. For 
 these mountains are in reality vast compost 
 heaps, nature's stores of powerful stimulants. 
 Daily the heat swells the flakes of granite; 
 daily the frost splits them; daily the rains dis- 
 solve the crushed stone into an impalpable 
 dust; daily the floods sweep the rich mineral 
 foods down into the starving valleys. Thus the 
 glory of the mountains is not alone their 
 majesty of endurance, but also their patient, 
 passionate beneflcence as they pour forth all 
 their treasures to feed richness to the pastures, 
 to wreathe with beauty each distant vale and 
 glen, to nourish all waving harvest fields. 
 This death of the mineral is the life of the veg- 
 etable. 
 
 If now we descend from the mountains to ex- 
 plore the secrets of the sea, Maury and Guyot 
 show us the isles where palm trees wave and 
 man builds his homes and cities midst rich 
 tropic fruits. There scientists find 'that the 
 coral islands were reared above the waves 
 by myriads of living creatures that died vica- 
 riously that man might live. And everywhere 
 nature exhibits the same sacrificial principle. 
 Our treasures of coal mean that vast forests 
 
 73 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 have risen and fallen again for our factories 
 and furnaces. Nobody is richer until some- 
 body is poorer. Evermore the vicarious ex- 
 change is going on. The rock decays and 
 feeds the moss and lichen. The moss decays to 
 feed the shrub. The shrub perishes that the 
 tree may have food and growth. The leaves of 
 the tree fall that its boughs may blossom and 
 bear fruit. The seeds ripen to serve the birds 
 singing in all the boughs. The fruit falls to 
 be food for man. The harvests lend man 
 strength for his commerce, his government, his 
 culture and conscience. The lower dies vicari- 
 ously that the higher may live. Thus nature 
 achieves her gifts only through vast expend- 
 itures. 
 
 It is said that each of the new guns for 
 the navy costs $100,000. But the gun sur- 
 vives only a hundred explosions, so that every 
 shot costs $1,000. Tyndall tells us that each 
 drop of water sheathes electric power suffi- 
 cient to charge 100,000 Leyden jars and blow 
 the Houses of Parliament to atoms. Farraday 
 amazes uS by his statement of the energy re- 
 quired to embroider a violet or produce a 
 strawberry. To untwist the sunbeam and ex- 
 tract the rich strawberry red, to refine the 
 sugar, and mix its flavor, represents heat suf- 
 ficient to run an engine from Liverpool to Lon- 
 
 74 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 don or from Chicago to Detroit. But be- 
 cause nature does her work noiselessly we must 
 not forget that each of her gifts also involves 
 tremendous expenditure. 
 
 This law of vicarious service holds equally in 
 the intellectual world. The author buys his 
 poem or song with his life-blood. While trav- 
 eling north from London midst a heavy snow- 
 storm, Lord Bacon descended from his coach to 
 stuff a fowl with snow to determine whether or 
 not ice would preserve flesh. With his life 
 the philosopher purchased for us the prin- 
 ciple that does so 'much to preserve our fruits 
 and foods through the summer's heat and lend 
 us happiness and comfort. And Pascal, whose 
 thoughts are the seeds that have sown many 
 a mental life with harvests, bought his splendid 
 ideas by burning up his brain. The professors 
 who guided and loved him knew that the boy 
 would soon be gone, just as those who light a 
 candle in the evening know that the light, 
 burning fast, will soon flicker out in the deep 
 socket. One of our scientists foretells the time 
 when, by the higher mathematics, it will be 
 possible to compute how many brain cells must 
 be totn down to earn a given sum of money, 
 how much vital force each Sir William Jones 
 must give in exchange for one of his forty lan- 
 guages and dialects; what percentage of the 
 
 75 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 original vital force will- be consumed in ex- 
 periencing each new pleasure, or surmounting 
 each new pain; how much nerve treasure it 
 takes to conquer each temptation or endure 
 each self-sacrifice. Too often society forgets 
 that the song, law or reform has cost the health 
 and life of the giver. Tradition says that, 
 through much study, the Iliad cost Homer his 
 eyes. There is strange meaning in the fact that 
 Dante's face was plowed deep with study and 
 suffering and written all over with the litera- 
 ture of sorrow. 
 
 To gain his vision of the hills of Paradise, 
 Milton lost his vision of earth's beaute- 
 ous sights and scenes. In explanation of the 
 early death of Raphael and Burns, Keats 
 and Shelley, it has been said that few great 
 men who are poor have lived to see forty. 
 They bought their greatness with life itself. 
 A few short years ago there lived in a western 
 state a boy who came up to his young man- 
 hood with a great, deep passion for the plants 
 and shrubs. While other boys loved the din 
 and bustle of the city, or lingered long in the 
 library, or turned eager feet toward the forum, 
 this youth plunged into the fields and forests, 
 and with a lover's passion for his noble mis- 
 tress gave himself to roots and seeds and 
 flowers. While he was still a child he 
 
 76 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 would tell on what day in March the first vio- 
 let bloomed; when the first snowdrop came, 
 and, going back through his years, could tell 
 the very day in spring when the first robin 
 sang near his window. Soon the boy's col- 
 lection of plants appealed to the wonder of 
 scholars. A little later students from foreign 
 countries began to send him strange flowers 
 from Japan and seeds from India. One mid- 
 night while he was lingering o'er his books, 
 suddenly the white page before him was as red 
 with his life-blood as the rose that lay beside 
 his hand. And when, after two years in Colo- 
 rado, friends bore his body up the side of the 
 mountains he so dearly loved, no scholar in all 
 our land left so full a collection and exposition 
 of the flowers of that distant state as did this 
 dying boy. His study and wisdom made all to 
 be his debtors. But he bought his wisdom 
 with thirty years of health and happiness. We 
 are rich only because the young scholar, with 
 his glorious future, for our sakes made himself 
 poor. 
 
 Our social treasure also is the result of 
 vicarious service and suffering. Sailing along 
 the New England coasts, one man's craft 
 strikes a rock and goes to the bottom. But 
 where his boat sank there the state lifts a 
 danger signal, and henceforth, avoiding that 
 
 77 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 rock, whole fleets are saved. One traveler 
 makes his way through the forest and is losti 
 Afterward other pilgrims avoid that way. 
 Experimenting with the strange root or acid 
 or chemical, the scholar is poisoned and dies. 
 Taught by his agonies, others learn to avoid 
 that danger. 
 
 Only a few centuries ago the liberty of 
 thought was unknown. All lips were pad- 
 locked. The public criticism of a baron meant 
 the confiscation of the peasant',"; land; the 
 criticism of the pope meant the dungeon; the 
 criticism of the king meant death. Now all 
 are free to think for themselves, to sift all 
 knowledge and public teachings, to cast away 
 the chaff and to save the precious wheat. But 
 to buy this freedom blood has flowed like riv- 
 ers and tears have been too cheap to count. 
 
 To achieve these two principles, called liberty 
 of thought and liberty of speech, some four 
 thousand battles have been fought. In ex- 
 change, therefore, for one of these principles of 
 freedom and happiness, society has paid — not 
 cash down, but blood down ; vital treasure for 
 staining two thousand battle-fields. To-day the 
 serf has entered into citizenship and the slave 
 into freedom, but the pathway along which 
 the slave and serf have moved has been over 
 chasms filled with the bodies of patriots and 
 
 78 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 hills that have been leveled by heroes' hands. 
 Why are the travelers through the forests dry 
 and warm midst falling rains? Why are sail- 
 ors upon all seas comfortable under their rub- 
 ber coats? Warm are they and dry midst all 
 storms, because for twenty years Goodyear, 
 the discoverer of India rubber, was cold and 
 wet and hungry, and at last, broken-hearted, 
 died midst poverty. 
 
 Why is Italy cleansed of the plagues that 
 devastated her cities a hundred years ago? 
 Because John Howard sailed on an infected 
 ship from Constantinople to Venice, that he 
 might be put into a lazaretto and find out the 
 clew to that awful mystery of the plague and 
 stay its power. How has it come that the 
 merchants of our western ports send ships 
 laden with implements for the fields and con- 
 veniences for the house into the South Sea 
 Islands? Because such men as Patteson, the 
 pure-hearted, gallant boy of Eton College, 
 gave up every prospect in England to labor 
 amid the Pacific savages and twice plunged 
 into the waters of the coral reefs, amid sharks 
 and devil-fish and stinging jellies, to escape 
 the flight of poisoned arrows of which the 
 slightest graze meant horrible death, and in 
 that high service died by the clubs of the very 
 savages whom he had often risked his life to 
 
 79 
 
The Investment of Influence. , 
 
 save — the memory of whose life did so smite 
 the consciences of his murderers that they laid 
 "the young martyr in an open boat, to float 
 away over the bright blue waves, with his 
 hands crossed, as if in prayer, and a palm 
 branch on his breast." And there, in the 
 white light, he lies now, immortal forever. 
 
 And why did the representatives of five 
 great nations come together to destroy the 
 slave trade in Africa, and from every coast 
 come the columns of light to journey toward 
 the heart of the dark continent and rim all 
 Africa around with little towns and villages 
 that glow like lighthouses for civilization? Be- 
 cause one day Westminster Abbey was crowded 
 with the great men of England, in the midst 
 of whom stood two black men who had brought 
 Livingstone's body from the jungles of Africa. 
 There, in the great Abbey, faithful Susi told of 
 the hero who, worn thin as parchment through 
 thirty attacks of the African fever, refused 
 Stanley's overtures, turned back toward TJlala, 
 made his ninth attempt to discover the head- 
 waters of the Nile and search out the secret 
 lairs of the slave-dealers, only to die in the 
 forest, with no white man near, no hand of 
 sister or son to cool his fevered brow or close 
 his glazing eyes. Faithful to the last to that 
 which had been the great work of his life, he 
 
 80 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 wrote these words with dying hand: "All 1 
 can add in my solitude is, may heaven's rich 
 blessings come down on every one who would 
 help to heal this open sore of the world 1" 
 Why was it that in the ten years after 
 Livingstone's death, Africa made greater 
 advancement than in the previous ten 
 centuries? All the world knows that it 
 was through the vicarious suffering of one 
 of Scotland's noblest heroes. And why is it 
 that Curtis says that there are three Ameri- 
 can orations that will live in history — Patrick 
 Henry's at Williamsburg, Abraham Lincoln's 
 at Gettysburg and Wendell Phillips' at Faneuil 
 Hall? A thousand martyrs to liberty lent 
 eloquence to Henry's lips; the hills of Gettys- 
 burg, all billowy with ^ur noble dead, exhaled 
 the memories that anointed Lincoln's lips; 
 while Lovejoy's spirit, newly martyred at 
 Alton, poured over Wendell Phillips' nature 
 the full tides of speech divine. Vicarious suf- 
 fering explains each of these immortal scenes. 
 Long, too, the scroll of humble heroes whose 
 vicarious services have exalted our common 
 life. Recognizing this principle, Cicero built 
 a monument to his slave, a Greek, who daily 
 read aloud to his master, took notes of his con- 
 versation, wrote out his speeches and so lent 
 the orator increased influence and power. 
 
 8i 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 Scott also makes one of his characters bestow 
 a gift upon an aged servant. For, said the 
 warrior, no master can ever fully recompense 
 the nurse who cares for his children, or the 
 maid who supplies their wants. To-day each 
 giant of the industrial realm is compassed 
 about with a small army of men who stand 
 waiting to carry out his slightest behests, re- 
 lieve him of details, halve his burdens, while 
 at the same time doubling his joys and re- 
 wards. Lifted up in the sight of the entire 
 community the great man stands on a lofty 
 pedestal builded out of helpers and aids. And 
 though here and now the honors and successes 
 all go to the one giant, and his assistants are 
 seemingly obscure and unrecognized, hereafter 
 and there honors will be evenly distributed, 
 and then how will the great man's position 
 shrink and shrivel I 
 
 Here also are the parents who loved books 
 and hungered for beauty, yet in youth were 
 denied education and went all their life 
 through concealing a secret hunger and ambi- 
 tion, but who determined that their children 
 should never want for education. That the 
 boy, therefore, might go to college, these par- 
 ents rose up early to vex the soil and sat up 
 late to wear their fingers thin, denying the 
 eye beauty, denying the taste and imagination 
 
 82 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 their food, denying the appetite its pleasures 
 And while they suffer and wane the boy in col- 
 lege grows wise and strong and waxing great, 
 comes home to find the parents overwrought 
 with service and ready to fall on death, 
 having offered a vicarious sacrifice of love. 
 
 And here are our own ancestors. Soon our 
 children now lying in the cradles of our 
 state will without any forethought of theirs 
 fall heir to this rich land with all its 
 treasures material — houses and vineyards, 
 factories and cities; with all its treasures 
 mental — library and gallery, school and 
 church, institutions and customs. But with 
 what vicarious suffering were these treasures 
 purchased I For us our fathers subdued the 
 continents and the kingdoms, wrought free- 
 dom, stopped the mouths of wolves, escaped 
 the Bword of savages, turned to flight armies 
 of enemies, subdued the forests, drained the 
 swamps, planted vineyards, civilized savages, 
 reared schoolhouses, builded churches, founded 
 colleges. For four generations they dwelt in 
 cabins, wore sheepskins and goatskins, wan- 
 dered about exploring rivers and forests and 
 mines, being destitute, afflicted, tormented, be- 
 cause of their love of liberty, and for the 
 slave's sake were slain with the sword — of 
 whom this generation is not worthy. "And 
 
 83 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 these all died not having received the prom- 
 ise," God having reserved that for us to 
 whom it has been given to fall heir to the 
 splendid achievements of our Christian an- 
 cestors. 
 
 And what shall we more say, save only to 
 mention those whose early death as well as 
 life was vicarious? What an enigma seems 
 the career of those cut off while yet they stand 
 upon life's threshold ! How proud they made 
 our hearts, standing forth all clothed with 
 beauty, health and splendid promise I What a 
 waste of power, what a robbery of love, seemed 
 their early death I But slowly it has dawned 
 upon us that the footsteps that have vanished 
 walk with us more frequently than do our 
 nearest friends. And the sound of the voice 
 that is still instructs us in our dreams as no 
 living voice ever can. The invisible children 
 and friends are the real children. Their 
 memory is a golden cord binding us to God's 
 throne, and drawing us upward into the king- 
 dom of light. Absent, they enrich us as those 
 present cannot. And so the child who smiled 
 upon us and then went away, the son and the 
 daughter whose talents blossomed here to bear 
 fruit above, the sweet mother's face, the 
 father's gentle spirit — their going it was that 
 set open the door of heaven and made on 
 
 34 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 earth a new world. These all lived vicariously 
 for us, and vicariously they died ! 
 
 No deeply reflective nature, therefore, will 
 be surprised that the vicarious principle is 
 manifest in the Savior of the soul. Rejecting 
 all commercial theories, all judicial exchanges, 
 all imputations of characters, let us recognize 
 the universality of this principle. G-od is not 
 at warfare with himself. If he uses the vicari- 
 ous principle in the realm of matter he will 
 use it in the realm of mind and heart. It is 
 given unto parents to bear not only the weak- 
 ness of the child, but also his ignorance, his 
 sins — perhaps, at last, his very crimes. But 
 nature counts it unsafe to permit any wrong 
 to go unpunished. Nature finds it dangerous 
 to allow the youth to sin against brain or 
 nerve or digestion without visiting sharp pen- 
 alties upon the offender. Fire burns, acids 
 eat, rocks crush, steam scalds — always, al- 
 ways. Governments also find it unsafe to 
 blot out all distinctions between the hones^ 
 citizen and the vicious criminal. The ts^kSg 
 no notice of sin keeps iniquity inlgoodaprits, 
 belittles the sanctity of law and Bluwthe con- 
 science. /| X 
 
 With God also penalties are^arnings. His 
 ^punishments are thoipAlhed^es, safeguarding 
 man from the thorns f.^ yiickets where ser- 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 pents brood, and forcing his feet back into the 
 ways of wisdom and peace. For man's in- 
 tegrity and happiness, therefore, conscience 
 smites and is smiting unceasingly. There- 
 fore, Eugene Aram dared not trust himself out 
 under the stars at night, for these stars were 
 eyes that blazed and blazed and would not re- 
 lent. But why did not the murderer, Eugene 
 Aram, forgive himself? When Lady Macbeth 
 found that the water in the basin would not 
 wash off the red spots, but would ' ' the multi- 
 tudinous seas incarnadine," why did not Mac- 
 beth and his wife forgive each other? Strange, 
 passing strange, that Shakespeare thought 
 volcanic fires within and forked lightning with- 
 out were but the symbols of the storm that 
 breaks upon the eternal orb of each man's soul. 
 If David cannot forgive himself, if Peter can- 
 not forgive Judas, who can forgive sins? ' ' Per- 
 haps the gods may, " said Plato to Socrates. 
 <'I do not know," answered the philosopher. 
 "I do not know that it would be safe for 
 the gods to pardon." So the poet sends 
 Macbeth out into the black night and the 
 blinding storm to be thrown to the ground by 
 forces that twist off trees and hiss among the 
 wounded boughs and bleeding branches. 
 
 For poor Jean Valjean, weeping bitterly for 
 his sins, while he watched the boy play with 
 
 86 
 
Vicarious Lives. 
 
 the buttercups and prayed that God would 
 give him, the red and horny-handed criminal, 
 to feel again as he felt when he pressed his 
 dewy cheek against his mother's knee — for 
 Jean Valjean is there no suffering friend, no 
 forgiving heart? Is there no bosom where 
 poor Magdalene can sob out her bitter confes- 
 sion? "What if God were the soul's father! 
 What if he too serves and suffers vicariously ! 
 What if his throne is not marble but mercy I 
 What if nature and life do but interpret in the 
 small this divine principle existing in the large 
 in him who is infinite I * What if Calvary is 
 God's eternal heartache, manifest in time ! 
 What if, sore-footed and heavy - hearted, 
 bruised with many a fall, we should come 
 back to the old home, from which once 
 we fled away, gay and foolish prodigals ! The 
 time was when, as small boys and girls, with 
 blinding tears, we groped toward the moth- 
 er's bosom and sobbed out our bitter pain and 
 sorrow with the full story of our sin. What 
 if the form on Calvary were like the king of 
 eternity, toiling up the hill of time, his feet 
 bare, his locks all wet with the dew of night, 
 while he cries: "Oh, Absalom ! my son, my 
 son, Absalom !'' What if we are Absalom, 
 and have hurt God's heart ! Reason staggers. 
 Groping, trusting, hoping, we fall blindly on 
 "Eternal Atonement, p. U. 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 the stairs that slope through darkness up to 
 God. But, falling, we fall into the- arms of 
 Him who hath suffered vicariously for'toan 
 from the foundation of the world. 
 
 88 
 
^Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
"Paul says: 'I am a debtor.' But what had he recraved 
 from the Greeks that he was bound to pay back ? Was he a 
 disciple of their philosophy? He was not. Had he received 
 from their bounty in the matter of art ? No. One of the most 
 striking things in history is the fact that Paul abode in Athens 
 and wrote about it, without having any impression made upon 
 his imaginative mind, apparently, by its statues, its pictures or its 
 temples. The most gorgeous period of Grecian art poured its 
 light on his path, and he never mentioned it. The New Testa- 
 ment is as dead to art-beauty as though it had been written by a 
 hermit in an Egyptian pyramid who had never seen the light of 
 sun. Then what did he owe the Greeks .' Not philosophy, 
 not art, and certainly not religion, which was fetichism. Not a 
 debt of literature, nor of art, nor of civil polity; not n debt 
 of pecuniary obligation ; not an ordinary debt. He had noth- 
 ing from all these outside sources. The whole barbaric world 
 was without the true knowledge of God. He had that knowledge 
 and he owed it to every man who had it not. All the civilized 
 world was, in these respects, without the true inspiration ; and he 
 owed it to them simply because they did not have it ; and his 
 debt to them was founded on this law of benevolence of which I 
 have been speaking, which is to supersede selfishness, and accord- 
 ing to which those who have are indebted to those who have 
 not the world over." — Henry Ward Seecher, 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 Booksellers rank "Quo Vadis " as one of 
 the most popular books of the day. In that early 
 era persecution was rife and cruelty relent- 
 less. It was the time of Caligula, who 
 mourned that the Roman people had not one 
 neck, so that he could cut it off at a single 
 blow; of Nero, whose evening garden parties 
 were lighted by the forms of blazing Chris- 
 tians; of Vespasian, who sewed good men in 
 skins of wild beasts to be worried to death by 
 dogs. In that day faith and death walked to- 
 gether. 
 
 Fulfilling such dangers, the disciples came 
 together secretly at midnight. But the spy 
 was abroad, and despite all precautions, from 
 time to time brutal soldiers discovered the 
 place of meeting, and, bursting in, dragged the 
 worshipers off to prison. Then a cruel strata- 
 gem was adopted that looked to the discovery 
 of those who secretly cherished faith, A de- 
 cree went forth forbidding the jailer to furnish 
 food, making the prisoners dependent upon 
 friends without. 
 
 91 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 To come forward as a friend of these en- 
 dungeoned was to incur the risk of arrest and 
 death, while to remain in hiding was to leave 
 friends to die of starvation. Then men 
 counted life not dear unto themselves. Hero- 
 ism became a contagion. Even children dared 
 death. An old painting shows the guard 
 awakened at midnight and gazing with won- 
 der upon a little child thrusting food between 
 the iron bars to its father. In the darkness 
 the soldiers sleeping in the corridors heard the 
 rustling garments of some maiden or mother 
 who loved life itself less than husband or 
 friend. These tides of sympathy made men 
 strong against torture; old men lifted joyful 
 eyes toward those above them. Loving and 
 beloved, the disciples shared their burdens, 
 and those in the prison and those out of it 
 together went to fruitful martyrdom. 
 
 "When the flames of persecution had swept 
 by and, for a time, good men had respite, Apol- 
 los recalled with joy the heroism of those 
 without the prison who remembered the bonds 
 of those within. "With leaping heart he called 
 before his mind the vast multitudes in all ages 
 who go fettered through life — men bound by 
 poverty and hedged in by ignorance; men baf- 
 fled and beaten in life's fierce battle, bearing 
 burdens of want and wretchedness; and by the 
 
 92 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 heroism of the past he urged all men every- 
 where to fulfill that law of sympathy that 
 makes hard tasks easy and heavy burdens 
 light. Let the broad shoulders stoop to lift 
 the load with weakness ; let the wise and refined 
 share the sorrows of the ignorant; let those 
 whose health and gifts make them the children 
 of freedom be abroad daily on missions of 
 mercy to those whose feet are fettered; so 
 shall life be redeemed out of its woe and want 
 and sin through the Christian sympathy of 
 those who "remember men in the bonds as 
 bound with them." 
 
 Rejoicing in all of life's good things, let us 
 confess that in our world-school the divine 
 teachers are not alone happiness and prosperity, 
 but also uncertainty and suffering, defeat and 
 death. Inventors with steel plates may make 
 warships proof against bombs, but no man 
 hath invented an armor against troubles. The 
 arrows of calamity are numberless, falling 
 from above and also shot up from beneath. 
 Like Achilles, each man hath one vulnerable 
 spot. No palace door is proof against phan- 
 toms. Each prince's palace and peasant's^'cot- 
 tage holds at least one bond-slave. Byron, 
 with his club-foot, counted himself a prisoner 
 pacing between the walls of his narrow dun- 
 geon. Keats, struggling against his consump- 
 
 93 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 tion, thought his career that of the galley- 
 slave. The mother, fastened for years to the 
 couch of her crippled child, is bound by cords 
 invisible, indeed, but none the less powerful. 
 Nor is the bondage always physical. Here is 
 the man who made his way out of poverty and 
 loneliness toward wealth and position, yet 
 maintained his integrity through all the fight, 
 and stood in life's evening time possessed of 
 wealth, but in a moment saw it crash into 
 nothing and fell under bondage to poverty. 
 And here is some Henry G-rady, a prince 
 among men, the leader of the new South, his 
 thoughts like roots drinking in the riches of 
 the North; his speech like branches dropping 
 bounty over all the tropic states, seeming to 
 be the one indispensable man of his section, 
 but who in the midst of his career is smitten 
 and, dying, left his pilgrim band in bondage. 
 
 Here is Sir William Napier writing, "I am 
 now old and feeble and miserable; my eyes are 
 dim, very dim, with weeping for my lost 
 child," and went on bound midst the thick 
 shadows. Or here are the man and woman, 
 set each to each like perfect music unto noble 
 words, and one is taken — but Robert Browning 
 was left to dwell in such sorrow that for a 
 time he could not see his pen for the thick 
 darkness. Here is the youth who by one sin 
 
 94 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 fell out of man's regard, and struggling up- 
 ward, found it was a far cry back to the lost 
 heights, and wrote the story of his broken life 
 in the song of "the bird with the broken pin- 
 ion, that never flew as high again. " Sooner 
 or later each life passes under bondage. For 
 all strength will vanish as the morning dew, 
 our joys take wings and flit away; the eye dim, 
 the ear dull, the thought decay, our dearest 
 die. Oft life's waves and billows chill us to 
 the very marrow, while we gasp a-nd shiver 
 midst the surging tide. Then it is a blessed 
 thing to look out through blinding tears upon 
 a friendly face, to feel the touch of a friendly 
 hand and to know there are some who 
 ' ' remember those in bonds, as bound with 
 them." 
 
 Now this principle of social sympathy and 
 liability gives us the secret of all the epoch- 
 making men of our time. Carlyle once called 
 Rusk in " the seer that guides his generation." 
 More recently a prominent philanthropist said: 
 "All our social reform movements are largely 
 the influence of John Euskin." How earned 
 this man such meed of praise? Upon John 
 Ruskin fortune poured forth all her gifts. He 
 was born the child of supreme genius. He 
 was heir to nearly a million dollars, and by his 
 pen earned a fortune in addition. At the age 
 
 95 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 of 21, when most young men were beginning 
 their reading, he completed a book that put 
 his name and fame in every man's mouth. 
 "For a thousand who can speak, there is but 
 one who can think; for a thousand who can 
 think, there is but one who can see," and to 
 this youth was given the open vision. In the 
 hour of fame the rich and great vied to do him 
 honor, and every door opened at his touch. 
 But he turned aside to become the knight- 
 errant of the poor. Walking along White- 
 chapel road he saw multitudes of shop- 
 men and shopwomen whose stint was eighty 
 hours a week, who toiled mid poisoned air 
 until the brain reeled, the limbs trembled, aad 
 worn out physically and mentally they suc- 
 cumbed to spinal disease or premature age, 
 leaving behind only enfeebled progeny, until 
 the city's streets became graves of the human 
 physique. In that hour London seemed to 
 him like a prison or hospital; nor was it given 
 to him to play upon its floor as some rich men 
 do, knitting its straw into crowns that please ; 
 clutching at its dust in the cracks of the floor, 
 to die counting the motes by millions. The 
 youth "remembered men in bonds as bound 
 with them. " He tithed himself a tenth, then 
 a third, then a half, and at length used up 
 his fortune in noble service. He founded 
 
 96 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 clubs for workingmen and taught them in- 
 dustry, honor and self-reliance. He bought 
 spinning-wheels and raw flax, and made pauper 
 women self-supporting. He founded the 
 Sheffield Musemn, and placed there his paint- 
 ings and marbles, that workers in iron and 
 steel might have the finest models and bring 
 all their handiwork up toward beauty. He 
 asked his art-students in Oxford to give one 
 hour each day to pounding stones and filling 
 holes in the street. When his health gave 
 way Arnold Toynbee, foreman of his student 
 gang, went forth to carry his lectures on the 
 industrial revolution up and down the land. 
 Falling on hard days and evil tongues and 
 lying customs, he wore himself out in knightly 
 service. So he gained his place among " the 
 immortals. " But the secret of his genius and 
 influence is this: He fulfilled the debt of 
 strength and the law of social sympathy 
 and service.. 
 
 This spirit of sympathetic helpfulness has 
 also given us what is called ' ' the new woman- 
 hood." To-day our civilization is rising to 
 higher levels. Woman has brought love into 
 law, justice into institutions, ethics into poli- 
 tics, refinement into the common life. Re- 
 forms have become possible that were hitherto 
 impracticable. King Arthur's Knights of the 
 
 97 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 Round Table marching forth for freeing some 
 fair lady were never more soldierly than these 
 who have become the friends and protectors of 
 the poor. The movement began with Mary 
 Ware, who after long absence journeyed home- 
 ward. While the coach stopped at Durham 
 she heard of the villages near by where fever 
 was emptying all the homes; and leaving the 
 coach turned aside to nurse these fever-stricken 
 creatures and light them through the dark val- 
 ley. Then came Florence Nightingale and Mary 
 Stanley, braving rough seas, deadly fever and 
 bitter cold to nurse sick soldiers in Crimea, 
 and returned to find themselves broken in 
 health and slaves to pain, like those whom 
 they remembered. Then rose up a great group 
 of noble women like Mary Lyon and Sarah 
 Judson, who journeyed forth upon errands of 
 mercy into the swamps of Africa and the 
 mountains of Asia, making their ways into 
 garrets and tenements, missionaries of mercy 
 and healing. Knights of the Red Cross and 
 veritable "King's Daughters." No cottage 
 so remote as not to feel this new influence. 
 
 Fascinating, also, the life-story of that fair, 
 sweet girl who married Audubon. Yearning 
 for her own home, yet finding that her hus- 
 band would journey a thousand miles and give 
 months to studying the home and haunts of a 
 
 98 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 bird, she gave up her heart-dreams and went 
 with him into the forest, dwelling now in 
 tents, and now in some rude cabin, being a 
 wanderer upon the face of the earth — until, 
 when children came, she remained behind and 
 dwelt apart. At last the naturalist came home 
 after long absence to fulfill the long-cherished 
 dream of years of quiet study with wife and 
 children, but found that the mice had eaten 
 his drawings and destroyed the sketches he 
 had left behind Then was he dumb with grief 
 and dazed with pain, but it was his brave 
 wife who led him to the gate and thrust him 
 forth into the forest and sent hitn out upon his 
 mission, saying that there was no valley so 
 deep nor no wilderness so distant but that his 
 thought, turning homeward, would see the light 
 burning brightly for him. And in those dark 
 days when our land trembled, and a million 
 men from the north tramped southward and a 
 million men from the south tramped north- 
 ward, and the colimins met with a concussion 
 that threatened to rend the land asunder, 
 there, in the battle, midst the din and confusion 
 and blood, women walked, angels of light and 
 mercy, not merely holding the cup of cold 
 water to famished lips, or stanching the life- 
 blood until surgeons came, but teaching soldier 
 boys in the dying hour the way through the 
 
 99 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 valley and beyond it up the heavenly hills. 
 These all fulfilled their mission and ' ' remem- 
 bered those in bonds as bound with them." 
 
 This principle also has been and is the 
 spring of all progress in humanity and civ- 
 ilization. Our journalists and orators pour 
 forth unstinted praise upon the achievements 
 of the nineteenth century. But in what realm 
 lies our supremacy? Not in education, for our 
 schools produce no such thinkers or universal 
 scholars as Plato and his teacher; not in elo- 
 quence, for our orators still ponder the periods 
 of the oration " On the Crown;" not in sculp- 
 ture or architecture, for the broken fragments 
 of Phidias are still models for our youth. The 
 nature of our superiority is suggested when 
 we speak of the doing away with the exposure 
 of children, the building of homes, hospitals 
 and asylums for the poor and weak ; the caring 
 for the sick instead of turning them adrift; the 
 support of the aged instead of burying them 
 alive ; the dimished frequency of wars ; the dis- 
 appearance of torture in obtaining testimony; 
 humanity toward the shipwrecked, where once 
 luring ships upon the rocks was a trade; the 
 settlement of disputes by umpires and of na- 
 tional differences by arbitration. 
 
 Humanity and social sympathy are the 
 glory of our age. Society has come to 
 
 lOO 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 remember that those in bonds are bound 
 by them. Indeed, the application of this 
 principle to the various departments of 
 human life furnibhes the historian with the 
 milestones of human progress. The age of 
 Sophocles was not shocked when the poet 
 wrote the story of the child exposed by the 
 wayside to be adopted by some passer-by, or 
 torn in pieces by wild dogs, or chilled to death 
 in the cold. When the wise men brought 
 their gold and frankincense to the babe in the 
 manger, men felt the sacredness of infancy. 
 As the light from the babe in Correggio's 
 < Holy Night " illumined all the surrounding 
 figures, so the child resting in the Lord's arms 
 for shelter and sacred benediction began to 
 shed luster upon the home and to lead the 
 state. To-day the nurture and culture in the 
 schools are society's attempt to remember the 
 little ones in bonds. Fulfilling the same law 
 Xavier, with his wealth and splendid talents, 
 remembered bound ones and journeyed through 
 India, penetrating all the Eastern lands, being 
 physician for the sick, nurse for the dying, 
 minister for the ignorant; his face benignant; 
 his eloquence, love ; his atmosphere, sympathy ; 
 carrying his message of peace to the farther- 
 most shores of the Chinese Sea, through his 
 zeal for "those who were in bonds." And 
 
 lOI 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 thus John Howard visited the prisons of Eu- 
 rope for cleansing these foul dens and wiped 
 from the sword of justice its most polluting 
 stain. Fulfilling the debt of strength, Wilber- 
 force and Garrison, Sumner and Brown, fronted 
 furious slave-holders, enduring every form of 
 abuse and vituperation and personal violence, 
 and destroyed the infamous traffic in human 
 
 This new spirit of sympathy and service it 
 is that offers us help in solving the problems 
 of social unrest and disquietude. Events will 
 not let us forget that ours is an age of indus- 
 trial discontent. Society is full of warfare. 
 Prophets of evil tidings foretell social revo- 
 lution. The professional agitators are abroad, 
 sowing discord and nourishing hatred and strife, 
 and even the optimists sorrowfully confess the 
 antagonism between classes. There is an in- 
 dustrial class strong and happy, both rich and 
 poor; and there is an idle class weak and 
 wicked and miserable, among both rich and 
 poor. Unfortunately, as has been said, the wise 
 of one class contemplate only the foolish of the 
 other. The industrious man of means is 
 offended by the idle beggar, and identifies all 
 the poor with him, and the hard-working but 
 poor workman despises the licentious luxury 
 of one rich man, and identifies all the rich 
 
 I02 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 with him. But there are idle poor and idle 
 rich and busy poor and busy rich. " If the 
 busy rich people watched and rebuked the idle 
 rich people, all would be well ; and if the busy 
 poor people watched and rebuked the idle poor 
 people all would be right. Many a beggar is 
 as lazy as if he had $10,000 a year, and many 
 a man of large fortune is busier than his 
 errand boy." 
 
 Forgetting this, some poor look upon the 
 rich as enemies and desire fo pillage their 
 property, and some rich have only epithets 
 for the poor. Now, wise men know that 
 there is no separation of rich industrious 
 classes and the poor industrious classes, for 
 they differ only as do two branches of one 
 tree. This year one bough is full of bloom, 
 and the other bears only scantily, but next 
 year the conditions will be reversed. Wealth 
 and poverty are like waves; what is now crest 
 will soon be trough. Such conditions demand 
 forbearance and mutual sympathy. Some men 
 are born with little and some with large skill 
 for acquiring wealth, the two differing as the 
 scythe that gathers a handful of wheat differs 
 from the reaper built for vast harvests and 
 carrying the sickle of success. For genera- 
 tions the ancestors back of one man's father 
 were thrifty and the ancestors back of his 
 
 103 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 mother were far-sighted, and the two columns 
 met in him, and like two armies joined forces 
 for a vast campaign for wealth. Beside 
 him is a brother, whose thoughts and dreams 
 go everywhither with the freedom of an eagle, 
 but who walks midst practical things with the 
 eagle's halting gait. The strong one was 
 born, not for spoiling his weaker brother, but 
 to guard and guide and plan for him. 
 
 This is the lesson of nature — the strong must 
 bear the burdens of the weak. To this end were 
 great men born. Nature constantly exhibits this 
 principle. The shell of the peach shelters the 
 inner seed; the outer petals of the bud the 
 tender germ; the breast of the mother-bird 
 protects the helpless birdlets; the eagle flies 
 under her young and gently eases them to the 
 ground ; above the babe's helplessness rise the 
 parents' shield and armor. God appoints 
 strong men, the industrial giants, to protect 
 the weak and poor. The laws of helpfulness 
 ask them to forswear a part of their industrial 
 rights, and they fulfill their destiny only by 
 fulfilling the debt of strength to weakness. 
 
 To identify one's self with those in bonds is 
 the very core of the Christian life. Not an in- 
 tellectual belief within, not a form of worship 
 without, but sympathetic helpfulness betokens 
 the true Christian. God, who hath endowed 
 
 104 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength, 
 
 the soul with capacity to endure all labors and 
 pains for wealth, to consume away the very 
 springs of life for knowledge, hath also given 
 it power for pouring itself out in great resist- 
 less tides of love and sympathy. For beauty 
 and royal majesty nothing else is comparable 
 to the love of some royal nature. A loving 
 heart exhales sweet odors like an alabaster 
 box; it pours forth joy like a sweet harp; it 
 flashes beauty like a casket of gems ; it cheers 
 like a winter's fire; it carries sweet stimulus 
 like returning sunshine. We have all known 
 a few great-hearted men and women who have 
 through years distributed their love-treasures 
 among the little children of the community 
 and scattered affection among the poor and 
 the weak, until the entire community comes 
 to feel that it lives in them and without them 
 will die. Happy the man who hath stored up 
 such treasures of mind and heart as that he 
 stands forth among his fellows like a light- 
 house on some ledge, sending guiding rays far 
 out o'er dark and troubled seas. Happy 
 the woman whose ripened affection and in- 
 spiration have permeated the common life until 
 to her come the poor and weak and heart- 
 broken, standing forth like some beauteous 
 bower offering shade and filling all the air with 
 sweet perfume. 
 
 105 
 
The Investment of Influence, 
 
 In crisis hours the patriot and martyr, 
 the hero and the philanthropist, die for 
 the public good; but not less do they serve 
 their fellows who live and through years 
 employ their gifts and heart-treasures, not for 
 themselves, but for the happiness and highest 
 «relfare of others. Richter, the German artist, 
 painted a series of paintings illustrating the 
 ministry of angels. He showed us the child- 
 angels who sit talking with mortal children 
 among the flowers, now holding them by their 
 coats lest they fall upon the stairs, now with 
 apples enticing them back when they draw too 
 near the precipice; when the boy grows tall 
 and is tempted, ringing in the chambers of 
 memory the sweet mother's name; in the hour 
 of death coming in the garb of pilgrim, made 
 ready for convoy and guidance to the heavenly 
 land. Oh beautiful pictures! setting forth 
 the sacred ministry of each true Christian 
 heart. 
 
 History tells of the servant whose master 
 was sold into Algeria, and who sold himself 
 and wandered years in the great desert in the 
 mere hope of at last finding and freeing his 
 lord; of the obscure man in the Eastern city 
 who, misunderstood and unpopular, left a will 
 stating that he had been poor and suffered for 
 lack of water, and so had starved and slaved 
 
 1 06 
 
Genius, and the Debt of Strength. 
 
 through life to build an aqueduct for his native 
 town, that the poor might not suffer as he had; 
 of the soldier in the battle, wounded in cheek 
 and mouth and dying of thirst, but who would 
 not drink lest he should spoil the water for 
 others, and so yielded up his life. But this 
 capacity of sacrifice and sympathy is but the 
 little in man answering to what is large in 
 God. Here deep answers unto deep. The 
 definition of the Divine One is, he remembers 
 those in bonds, and it is more blessed to give 
 than to receive; more blessed to feed the 
 hungry than starving to be fed; more blessed 
 to pour light on darkened misunderstanding 
 than ignorant to be taught; more blessed to 
 open the path through the wilderness of doubt 
 than wandering to be guided; more blessed to 
 bring in the bewildered pilgrim than to be lost 
 and rescued; more blessed to forgive than to 
 be forgiven; to save than to be saved. 
 
 107 
 
The Time Element in Individual 
 Character and Social Growth. 
 
" All that we possess has come to us by way of a long path. 
 There is no instantaneous liberty or wisdom or language or 
 beauty or religion. Old philosophies, old agriculture, old 
 domestic arts, old sciences, medicine, chemistry, astronomy, 
 old modes of travel and commerce, old forms of gOTernment 
 and religion have all come in gracefully or ungracefully and 
 have said : 'Progress is king, and long live the king!' 
 Year after year the mind perceives education to expand, art 
 sweeps along from one to ten, music adds to its early richness, 
 love passes outwardly fi-om self towards the race, fnendships be- 
 come laden with more pleasure, truths change into sentiments, 
 sentiments blossom into deeds, nature paints its flowers and leaves 
 with richer tints, literature becomes the more perfect picture of a 
 more perfect intellect, the doctrines of religion become broader 
 and sweeter in their philosophy." — David Swing. 
 
CHAPTER VI, 
 
 The Time Element in Individual 
 Character and Social Growth. 
 
 For all lovers of their kind, nothing is so 
 hard to bear as the slowness of the upward 
 progress of society. It is not simply that the 
 rise of the common people is accompanied 
 with heavy wastes and losses; it is that the 
 upward movement is along lines so vast as to 
 make society's growth seem tardy, delayed, or 
 even reversed. Doubtless the drift of the ages 
 is upward, but this progress becomes apparent 
 only when age is compared with age and cen- 
 tury with century. It is not easy for some 
 Bruno or Wickliffe, sowing the good seed of 
 liberty and toleration in one century, to know 
 that not until another century hath passed will 
 the precious harvest be reaped. Man is ac- 
 customed to brief intervals. Not long the 
 space between January's snowdrifts and June's 
 red berries. Brief the interval between the 
 egg and the eagle's full flight. Scarcely a 
 score of years separates the infant of days from 
 the youth of full stature. Trained to expect the 
 April seed to stand close beside the August 
 
 III 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 sheaf, it is not easy for man to accustom him- 
 self to the processes of him with whom four- 
 score years are but a handbreadth and a thous- 
 and years as but one day. 
 
 To man, therefore, toiling upon his industry, 
 his art, his government, his religion, comes 
 this reflection: Because the divine epochs are 
 long, let not the patriot or parent be sick with 
 hope long deferred. Let the reformer sow his 
 seed untroubled when the sickle rusts in the 
 hand that waits for its harvest. Remember 
 that as things go up in value, the period < be- 
 tween inception and fruition is protracted. 
 Because the plant is low, the days between 
 seed and sheaf are few and short; because the 
 bird is higher, months stand between egg and 
 eagle. But manhood is a thing so high, cul- 
 ture and character are harvests so rich as to 
 ask years and even ages for ripening, while 
 God's purposes for society involve such treas- 
 ures of art, wisdom, wealth, law, liberty, as to 
 ask eons and cycles for their full perfection. 
 Therefore let each patriot and sage, each re- 
 former and teacher be patient. The world 
 itself is a seed. Not until ages have passed 
 shall it burst into bloom and blossom. 
 
 Troubled by the strifes of society, depressed 
 by the waste of its forces and the delays of its 
 columns, he who seeks character for himself 
 
 112 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 and progress for his kind, oft needs to shelter 
 himself beneath that divine principle called 
 the time-element for the individual and the 
 race. Optimists are we; our world is God's; 
 wastes shall yet become savings and defeats 
 victories ; nevertheless, life's woes, wrongs and 
 delays are such as to stir misgiving. The 
 multitudes hunger for power and influence, 
 hunger for wealth and wisdom, for happiness 
 and comfort; satisfaction seems denied them. 
 Watt and Goodyear invent, other men enter 
 into the fruit of their inventions; Erasmus and 
 Melanchthon sow the good seeds of learning; 
 two centuries pass by before God's angels 
 count the bundles. In a passion of enthusiasm 
 for England's poor, Cobden wore his life out 
 toiling for the corn laws. The reformer died 
 for the cotton-spinners as truly as if he had 
 slit his arteries and emptied out the crimson 
 flood. But when the victory was won, the 
 wreath of fame was placed upon another's 
 brow. One day Eobert Peel arose in the 
 House of Commons and in the presence of an 
 indignant party and an astounded country, 
 proudly said: "I have been wrong. I now ask 
 Parliament to repeal the law for which I my- 
 self have stood. Where there was discontent, I 
 see contentment; where there was turbulence, I 
 see peace; where there was disloyalty, I see 
 
 113 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 loyalty." Then the fury of party anger burst 
 upon him, and bowing to the storm, Robert 
 Peel went forth while men hissed after him 
 such words as "traitor," "coward," "re- 
 creant leader." Nor did he foresee that in los- 
 ing an office he had gained the love of a 
 country. 
 
 What delays also in justice I What recogni- 
 tion does society withhold from its heroes ! 
 What praise speaks above the pulseless corpse 
 that is denied the living, hungering heart ! 
 What gold coin spent for the marble wreath by 
 those who have no copper for laurel for the 
 living hero! How do rewards that dazzle in 
 prospect, in possession, burst like gaudy bub- 
 bles ! Honors are evanescent; reputation is a 
 vapor; property takes wrings; possessions 
 counted firm as adamant dissolve like painted 
 clouds; in the hour of depression the hand 
 drops its tool, the heart its task. In such dark 
 hours and moods, strong men reflect that he 
 who sows the good seed of liberty or culture or 
 character must have long patience until the 
 harvest; that as things go up in value they ask 
 for longer time; that he is the true hero who 
 redeems himself out of present defeat by the 
 foresight of far-off and future victory ; that that 
 man has a patent of nobility from God himself 
 who can lay out his life upon the principle that 
 
 114 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 a thousand years are as one day. The truly 
 great man takes long steps by God's side; has 
 the courage of the future; working, he can also 
 wait. 
 
 For man, fulfilling such a career, no prin- 
 ciple hath greater practical value than this 
 one; as things rise in the scale of value the 
 interval between seedtime and harvest must 
 lengthen. Happily for us, God hath capital- 
 ized this principle in nature and life. Each 
 gardener knows that what ripens quickest is 
 of least worth. The mushroom needs only a 
 night ; the moss asks a week for covering the 
 fallen tree ; the humble vegetable asks several 
 weeks and the strawberry a few months ; but, 
 planting his apple tree, the gardener must 
 wait a few years for his ripened russet, and the 
 woodsman many years for the full-grown oak or 
 elm. If in thought we go back to the dawn of 
 creation — to that moment when sun and planet 
 succeeded to clouds of fire, when a red-hot 
 earth, cooling, put on an outer crust, when 
 gravity drew into deep hollows the waters that 
 cooled the earth and purified the upper air — and 
 then follow on in nature's footsteps, passing up 
 the stairway of ascending life from lichen, 
 moss and fern, on to the culminating mo- 
 ment in man, we shall ever find that increase of 
 value means an increase of time for growth. 
 
 "5 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 The fern asks days, the reed asks weeks, the 
 bird for months, the beast for a handful of 
 years, but man for an epoch measured by 
 twenty years and more. To grow a sage or a 
 statesman nature asks thirty years with which 
 to build the basis of greatness in the bone and 
 muscle of the peasant grandparents; thirty 
 years in which to compact the nerve and braiij 
 of parents ; thirty years more in which the heir 
 of these ancestral gifts shall enter into full- 
 orbed power and stand forth fully furnished 
 for his task. Nature makes a dead snowflake 
 in a night, but not a living star-flower. For 
 her best things nature asks long time. 
 
 The time-principle holds equally in man's 
 social and industrial life. To-day our colleges 
 hav6 their anthropological departments and 
 our cities their museums. The comparative 
 study of the dress, weapons, tools, houses, 
 ships of savage and civilized races gives an out- 
 line view of the progress of society. How 
 fragile and rude the handiwork of savages I 
 How quickly are the wants provided fori A few 
 fig leaves make a full summer suit for the Afri- 
 can and the skin of an ox his garb for winter. 
 But civilized man must toil long upon his 
 loom for garments of wool and fine silk. 
 Slowly the hollow log journeys toward the 
 ocean steamer; slowly the forked stick gives 
 
 ii6 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 place to the steam-plow, the slow ox to the 
 swift engine; slowly the sea-shell, with three 
 strings tied across its mouth, develops into the 
 many-mouthed pipe-organ. But if rude and 
 low conveniences represent little time and toil, 
 these later inventions represent centuries of 
 arduous labor. In his history of the German 
 tribes, Tacitus gives us a picture of a day's toil 
 for one of the forest children. Moving to the 
 banks of some new stream, the rude man peels 
 the bark from the tree and bends it over the 
 tent pole; with a club he beats down the nuts 
 from the branches; with a round stone he 
 knocks the squirrel from the bough; another 
 hour sufBces for cutting a line from the ox's 
 hide and, hastily making a hook out of the 
 wishbone of the bird, he draws the trout from 
 its stream. But if for savage man a day 
 suffices for building and provisioning the tent, 
 the accumulated wisdom of centuries is re- 
 quired for the home of to-day. One century 
 oifers an arch for the door, another century of- 
 fers glass windows, another offers wrought 
 nails and hinges, another plaster that will re- 
 ceive and hold the warm colors, another offers 
 the marble, tapestry, picture and piano, the 
 thousand conveniences for use and beauty. 
 
 Husbandry also represents patience and the 
 labor of generations. Were it given to the 
 
 117 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 child, tearing open the golden meat of the 
 fruit, to trace the ascent of the tree, he would 
 see the wild apple or bitter orange growing in 
 the edge of the ancient forest. But man, 
 standing by the fruit, grafted it for sweetness, 
 pruned it for the juicy flow, nourished it for 
 taste and color. Could he who picks the peach 
 or pear have this inner vision, he would behold 
 an untold company of husbandmen standing be- 
 neath the branches and pointing to their special 
 contributions. The fathers labored, the chil- 
 dren entered into the fruitage of the labor in 
 his dream; the poet slept in St. Peter's and 
 saw the shadowy forms of all the architects and 
 builders from the beginning of time standing 
 about him and giving their special contribu- 
 tions to Bramante and Angelo's great temple. 
 Thus many hands have toiled upon man's house, 
 man's art, industry, invention. 
 
 In the realm of law and liberty the best 
 things ask for patience and waiting. Out of 
 nothing nothing comes. The institution that 
 represents little toil but little time endures. 
 Man's early history is involved in obscurity, 
 largely because his early arts were mush- 
 roomic — completed quickly, they quickly per- 
 ished. The ideas scratched upon the flat leaf 
 or the thin reed represented scant labor and 
 therefore soon were dust. But he who holds 
 
 ii8 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 in his hand a modern book holds the fruitage 
 of years many and long. For that book we 
 see the workmen ranging far for linen; we see 
 the printer toiling upon his movable types; we 
 see the artist etching his plate; the author 
 giving his days to study and his nights to 
 reflection; and because the book harvests the 
 study of a great man's lifetime it endures 
 throughout generations. The sciences also 
 increase in value only as the time spent upon 
 them is lengthened. Few and brief were the 
 days required for the early astronomers to 
 work out the theory that the earth is flat, 
 the sky a roof, the stars holes in which the 
 gods have hung lighted lamps. The theory 
 that makes our earth sweep round the sun, 
 our sun sweep round a far-off star, all lesser 
 groups sweep round one central sun, that 
 shepherds all the other systems, asks for the 
 toil of Galileo and Kepler, of Copernicus and 
 Newton, and a great company of modern stu- 
 dents. The father of astronomy had to wait 
 a thousand years for the fruition of his science. 
 Upon those words, called law or love, or 
 mother or king, man hath with patience la- 
 bored. The word wife or mother is so rich to- 
 day as to make Homer's ideal, Helen, seem poor 
 and almost contemptible. The girl was very 
 beautiful, but very painful the alacrity with 
 
 119 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 which she passes from the arms of Menelaus 
 to the arms of Paris, from the arms of Paris 
 to those of Deiphobus, his conqueror. If one 
 hour only was required for this lovely creature 
 to pack her belongings preparatory to moving 
 to the tent of her new lord, one day fully suf- 
 ficed for transferring her affections from one 
 prince to another. But, toiling ever upward 
 to her physical beauty, woman added mental 
 beauty, moral beauty, until the word wife or 
 mother or home came to have almost infinite 
 wealth of meaning. 
 
 In government also the best political instru- 
 ments ask for longest time. Hercules ruled 
 by the right of physical strength. Assem- 
 bling the people, he challenged all rivals to 
 combat. A single hour availed for cutting 
 off the head of his enemy. Henceforth he 
 reigned an unchallenged king. Because man 
 hath with patience toiled long upon this 
 republic, how rich and complex its institu- 
 tions! The modern presidency does not repre- 
 sent the result of an hour's combat between 
 two Samsons. Forty years ago the eager 
 aspirants began their struggle. A great com- 
 pany of young men all over the land deter- 
 mined to build up a reputation for patriotism, 
 statesmanship, wisdom and character. As the 
 time for selecting a president approached, the 
 
 1 20 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 people passed in review all these leaders. 
 When two or more were finally chosen out, 
 there followed months in which the principles 
 of the candidates were sifted and analyzed. 
 "I know of no more sublime spectacle," said 
 Stuart Mill, "than the election of the ruler 
 under the laws of the republic. If the voice of 
 the people is ever the voice of God, if any ruler 
 rules by divine right, it is when millions of 
 freemen, after long consideration, elect one 
 man to be their appointed guide and leader." 
 If a single hour availed for Samson to settle 
 the question of his sovereignty, free institu- 
 tions ask for their statesmen to have the 
 patience of years; working, they must also 
 wait. 
 
 With long patience also man has worked and 
 waited as he has toiled upon his idea of reli- 
 gion. Rude, indeed, man's hasty thoughts of 
 the infinite. In early days the sun was God's 
 eye, the thunder his voice, the stroke of the 
 earthquake the stroke of his arm, the harvest 
 indicated his pleasure, the pestilence his anger. 
 In such an age the priest and philosopher 
 taxed their genius to invent methods of pre- 
 serving the friendship and avoiding the anger 
 of the Infinite. Daily the king and general 
 calculated how many sheep and oxen they must 
 slay to avoid defeat in battle. Daily the hus- 
 
 121 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 bandman and farmer calculated how many 
 doves and lambs must be killed to. avert blight 
 from the vineyard and hailstorms from the 
 harvests. Observing that when the king 
 ascended to the throne the slaves put their 
 necks under his heel and covered their bodies 
 with dust, in their haste the priests concluded 
 that by degrading man God would be exalted. 
 Prostrating themselves in dirt and rags, men 
 went down in order that by contrast the throne 
 of God might rise up. The mud was made thick 
 upon man's brow that the crown upon the 
 brow of God might be made brilliant. Out of 
 this degrading thought grew the idea that 
 God lived and ruled for his own gratification 
 and self-glory. The infinite throne was un- 
 veiled as a throne of infinite self-aggrandize- 
 ment. Slowly it was perceived that the par- 
 ent who makes all things move about himself 
 as a center, ever monopolizing the best food, 
 the best place, the best things, at last becomes 
 a monster of selfishness and suffers an awful 
 degradation, while he who sacrifices himself 
 for others is the true hero. 
 
 At last, Christ entered the earthly scene 
 with his golden rule and his new command- 
 ment of love. He unveiled God, not as desir- 
 ing to be ministered to, but as ministering; as 
 being rich, yet for man's sake becoming poor; 
 
 122 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 as asking little, but giving much; as caring 
 for the sparrow and lily; as waiting upon each 
 beetle, bird and beast, and caring for each de- 
 tail of man's life. Slowly the word God in- 
 creased in richness. Having found through 
 his telescope worlds so distant as to involve 
 infinite power, man emptied the idea of om- 
 nipotence into the word God; finding an 
 infinite wisdom in the wealth of the summers 
 and winters, man added the idea of omnisci- 
 ence; noting a certain upward tendency in 
 society, man added the word, ' ' Providence ;" 
 gladdened by God's mercy, man added ideas of 
 forgiveness and love. Slowly the word grew. 
 In the olden time people entering the Acropo- 
 lis cast their gifts of gold and silver into some 
 vase. Last of all came the prince to empty in 
 jewels and flashing gems and make the vase to 
 overflow. Not otherwise Christ emptied vast 
 wealth of m'eaning into those words called 
 "conscience," "law," "love," " vicarious suf- 
 fering," "immortality," "God." Beautiful, 
 indeed, the simplicity of Christ. With long 
 patience, man waited for the unveiling of the 
 face of divine love. 
 
 To all patriots and Christian men who seek 
 to use occupation and profession so as to pro- 
 mote the world's upward growth comes the 
 reflection that henceforth society's progress 
 
 123 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 must be slow, because its institutions are high 
 and complex. To-day many look into the 
 future with shaded eyes of terror. In the 
 social unrest and discontent of our times timid 
 men see the brewing of a social and industrial 
 storm. In their alarm, amateur reformers 
 bring in social panaceas, conceived in haste 
 and born in fear. But God cannot be hurried. 
 His century plants cannot be forced to blossom 
 in a night. No reformer can be too zealous 
 for man's progress, though he can be too im- 
 patient. In these days, when civilization has 
 become complex and the fruitage high, those 
 who work must also wait and with patience 
 endure. 
 
 Multitudes are abroad trying to settle the 
 labor problem. The labor problem will never 
 be settled until the last man lies in the grave- 
 yard. Each new inventor reopens the labor 
 problem. Men were contented with their 
 wages until Gutenberg invented his type and 
 made books possible; then straightway every 
 laborer asked an increased wage, that though 
 he died ignorant his children might be intelli- 
 gent. When society had readjusted things 
 and man had obtained the larger wage, Ark- 
 wright came, inventing his new loom, Goodyear 
 came with the use of rubber, and straightway 
 men asked a new wage to advantage them- 
 
 124 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 selves of woolen garments and rubber goods for 
 miners and sailors. On the morrow 15,000,000 
 children will enter the schoolroom ; before nooQ 
 the teacher has given them a new outlook upon 
 some book, some picture, some convenience, 
 some custom. Each child registers the pur- 
 pose to go home immediately and cry to his 
 parent for that book or picture, that tool or 
 comfort. When the parents return that night 
 the labor question has been reopened in mill- 
 ions of homes. 
 
 Intelligence is emancipating man. Ignorance 
 is a constant invitation to oppression. So long 
 as workmen are ignorant, governments will op- 
 press them; wealth will oppress them; religious 
 machinery will oppress them. Education can 
 make man's wrists too large to be holden of 
 fetters. In the autumn the forest trees tighten 
 the bark, but when April sap runs through 
 the trees the trunk swells, the bark is strained 
 and despite all protests it splits and cracks. 
 The splitting of the bark saves the life of 
 the tree. The soft, balmy air of April is pass- 
 ing over the world and succeeding to the win- 
 ter of man's discontent. Old ideas are being 
 rent asunder and old institutions are being 
 succeeded by new ones. God is abroad destroy- 
 ing that he may save. In every age he makes 
 the discontent of the present to be the proph- 
 
 125 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 ecy of the higher civilization. Despite all the 
 pessimists and the croakers, the ideas of man- 
 hood were never so high as to-day, and the 
 number of those whose hearts are knitted in 
 with their kind was never so large nor so noble. 
 The movement may be slow, but it is because 
 the social organs are complex and intricate. 
 With long patience man must work and also 
 wait. 
 
 In the world of business, also, the time ele- 
 ment exerts striking influence. To-day our 
 land is filled with men who have sown the seed 
 of thought and purpose, but whose harvest is 
 of so high a quality that with long patience 
 must they wait for the fruition. How pathetic 
 the reverses of the last four years. The con- 
 dition of our land as to the overthrows of its 
 leaders answers to the condition in Poland 
 when Kossuth and his fellow patriots, ac 
 customed to life's comforts and its luxuries, went 
 forth penniless exiles to accustom themselves 
 to menial toil, to hardship and extreme pov- 
 erty. His heart must be of iron who can be- 
 hold those who have been leaders of the Indus 
 trial column, who now stand aside and see the 
 multitude sweep by. Just at the moment 
 of expected victory misfortune overtook them 
 and brought their structure down in ruins. 
 And because the seed they have sown is not 
 
 126 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 physical, but mental and moral, the fruition is 
 long postponed. 
 
 Walter Scott tells the story of a wounded 
 knight, who took refuge in the castle of a 
 baron that proved to be a secret enemy and 
 threw the knight into a dungeon; one day 
 in his cell the knight heard the sound of dis- 
 tant music approaching. Drawing near the 
 slit in the tower, he saw the flash of swords 
 and heard the tramp of marching men. At 
 last the wounded hero realized that these were 
 his own troops, marching by in ignorance of 
 the fact that the lord of this castle was also 
 the jailer of their general. While the knight 
 tugged at his chain, lifted up his voice and 
 cried aloud, his troops marched on, their music 
 drowning out his cries. Soon the banners 
 passed from sight, the last straggler disap- 
 peared behind the hill and the captive was left 
 alone. The brave knight died in his dungeon, 
 but the story of his heroism lived. What the 
 knight learned in suffering the poets have 
 taught in song. The captive hero has a per- 
 manent place in civilization, though the fore- 
 sight of his influence was denied him. 
 
 Those whose harvest is delayed are a great 
 company. Elizabeth Barrett Browning ex- 
 claiming, "I have not used half the powers God 
 has given me;" poets dying ere the day was 
 
 127 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 half done; the inventors and reformers denied 
 their ideals ; obscure and humble workmen — the 
 mechanic who emancipates man by his ma- 
 chine; the artisan whose conveniences are end- 
 less benefactions to our homes ; the smith whose 
 honest anchor holds the ship in time of storm 
 — all these labored and died without seeing the 
 fruitage, but other men entered into their 
 labors. 
 
 To parents who have passed through all the 
 thunder of life's battle and stand at the close 
 of life's day discouraged because children are 
 unripe, thoughtless and immature; to publi- 
 cists and teachers, sowing God's precious seed, 
 but denied its harvests ; to individuals seeking 
 to perfect their character within themselves 
 comes this thought — that character is a harvest 
 so rich as to ask for long waiting and the 
 courage of far-off results. Nature can perfect 
 physical processes in twenty years, but long 
 time is asked for teaching the arm skill, the 
 tongue its grace of speech, to clothe reason 
 with sweetness and light, to cast error out of 
 the judgment, to teach the will hardness and 
 the heart hope and endurance. 
 
 Four hundred years passed by before 
 the capstone was placed upon the Cathe- 
 dral of Cologne, but no trouble requires 
 such patient toil as the structure of 
 
 128 
 
The Time Element. 
 
 manhood. For complexity and beauty noth- 
 ing is comparable to character. G-reat artists 
 spend years upon a single picture. With a 
 touch here and a touch there they approach it, 
 and when a long period hath passed they bring 
 it to completion. Yet all the beauty of paint- 
 ings, all the grace of statues, all the grandeur 
 of cathedrals are as nothing compared to the 
 painting of that inner picture, the chiseling 
 of that inner manhood, the adornment of that 
 inner temple, that is scarcely begun when the 
 physical life ends. How majestic the full dis- 
 closure of an ideal manhood! With what 
 patience must man wait for its completion! 
 Here lies the hope of immortality; it does not 
 yet appear what man shall be. 
 
 129 
 
THf--SuPREMACY OF HeART OvER. 
 
 Brain. 
 
"Out of the heart are the iiBues of life."— Prow. If^. ay. 
 
 " For out of the heart man believeth unto righteouBneu." 
 
 —Paul. 
 
 " Heart ia a word that the Bible Is full of. Brain, I believe, 
 is not mentioned in Scripture, Heart, in the sense in which it is 
 currently understood, suggests the warm center of human life or 
 any other life. When we say of a man that he < has a good 
 deal of heart ' we mean that he is ' summery.* When you come 
 near him it is like getting around to the south side of a house in 
 midwinter and letting the sunshine feel of you, and watching the 
 snow slide off the twigs and the tear-drops swell on the points of 
 pendant icicles. Brain counts for a good deal more to-day than 
 heart does. It will win more applause and earn a larger salary. 
 Thought is driven with a curb-bit lest it quicken into a pace and 
 widen out into a swing that transcends the dictates of good form. 
 Exuberance is in bad odor. Appeals to the heart are not thought 
 to be quite in good taste. The current demand is for ideas — not 
 taste. I asked a member of my church the other day whether 
 he thought a certain firiend of his who attends > certain church 
 and is exceptionally brainy was really entering into sympathy 
 with religious things. 'Oh, no,' he said, 'he likes to hear 
 preaching because he has an active mind, and the way that things 
 are spread out in front of him.' In the old days of the church 
 a sermon used to convert 3,000 men ; now that temperature is 
 down it takes 3,000 sermons to convert one man." 
 
 — Charkt H. farkhuru. 
 
CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 The Supremacy of Heart Over 
 Brain. 
 
 To-day there has sprung up a rivalry be- 
 tween brain and heart. Men are coming to 
 idolize intellect. Brilliancy is placed before 
 goodness and intellectual dexterity above 
 fidelity. Intellect walks the earth a crowned 
 king, while affection and sentiment toil as bond 
 slaves. Doubtless our scholars, with the natural 
 bias for their own class, are largely respon- 
 sible for this worship of intellectuality. When 
 the historian calls \the roll of earth's favorite 
 sons he causes these immortals to stand forth 
 an army of great thinkers, including philoso- 
 phers, scientists, poets, jurists, generals. The 
 great minds are exalted, the great hearts are 
 neglected. 
 
 Artists also have united with authors for 
 strengthening this idolatry of intellect. One 
 of the great pictures in the French Academy 
 of Design assembles the immortals of all ages. 
 Having erected a tribimal in the center of the 
 scene, Delaroche places Intellect upon the 
 throne. Also, when the sons of genius are as- 
 sembled about that glowing center, all are seen 
 
 ^33 
 
The Inves^Hetit^of Influence. 
 
 to be great thinkers. There stand Demooritus, 
 a thinker about invisible atoms; Euclid, a 
 thinker about invisible lines and angles; New- 
 ton, a thinker about an invisible force named 
 gravity; La Place, a thinker about the invisi- 
 ble law that sweeps suns and stars forward to- 
 ward an unseen goal. 
 
 The artist also remembers the inventors 
 whose useful thoughts blossom into engines 
 and ships; statesmen whose wise thoughts 
 blossom into codes and constitutions; speak- 
 ers whose true thoughts blossom into orations, 
 and artists whose beautiful thoughts appear as 
 pictures. At this assembly of the immortals 
 great thinkers touch and jostle. But if the 
 great minds are remembered, no chair is 
 made ready for the great hearts. He 
 who lingers long before this painting will 
 believe that brain is king of the world; 
 that great thinkers are the sole architects of 
 civilization; that science is the only provi- 
 dence for the future ; that God himself is sim- 
 ply an infinite brain, an eternal logic engine, 
 cold as steel, weaving endless ideas about life 
 and art, about nature and man. 
 
 But the throne of the universe is mercy 
 and not marble; the name of the world-ruler is 
 Great Heart, rather than Crystalline Mind, 
 and God is the Eternal Friend who pulsates 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 out through his world those forms of love 
 called reforms, philanthropies, social bounties 
 and benefactions, even as the ocean pulsates 
 its life-giving tides into every bay and creek 
 and river. The springs of civilization are not 
 in the mind. For the individual and the state, 
 "out of the heart are the issues of life." 
 
 What intellect can dream, only the heart 
 realizes! John Cabot's mind did, iKdeed, bl^ze 
 a pathway through the New E^land forest. 
 But with burnina[,^h)earts aira iron^'will the 
 Pilgrim Fathers 'Iove^4ife€rty, law and learn- 
 ing, and soon they broadened the path into a 
 highway for commerce, turned tepees into 
 temples and made the forests a land of vine- 
 yards and villages. Mind is the beginning of 
 civilization, but the ends and fruitage thereof 
 are of the heart. 
 
 Christopher Wrens intellect wrought out 
 the plan for St. Paul's Cathedral. But all 
 impotent to realize themselves, these plans, 
 lying in the King's council chamber grew 
 yellow with age and thick with dust. One day 
 a great heart stood forth before the people of 
 London, pointing them to an unseen God, 
 "from whom cometh every good and perfect 
 gift," and, plying men with the generosity of 
 God, he asked gifts of gold and silver and 
 houses and lands, that England might erect a 
 
 ^35 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 temple worthy of him ' ' whom the heaven of 
 heavens could not contain." The mind of a 
 great architect had created a plan and a "blue- 
 print," but eager hearts inspiring earnest 
 hands turned the plan into granite and hung 
 in the air a dome of marble. 
 
 Thus all the great achievements for civil- 
 ization are the achievements of heart. What 
 we call the fine arts are only red-hot ingots of 
 passion cooled off into visible shape. All high 
 music is emotion gushing forth at those faucets 
 named musical notes. As unseen vapors cool 
 into those visible forms named snowflakes, so 
 Gothic enthusiasms cooled off into cathedrals. 
 
 Our art critics speak of the eight great 
 paintings of history. Each of these master- 
 pieces does but represent a holy passion flung 
 forth upon a canvas. The reformation also 
 was not achieved by intellect nor scholarship. 
 Erasmus represents pure mind. Yet his in- 
 tellect was cold as winter sunshine that falls 
 upon a snowdrift and dazzles the eyes with 
 brightness, yet is impotent to unlock the 
 streams, or bore a hole through the snow- 
 drifts, or release the roots from the grip of ice 
 and frost, or cover the land with waving har- 
 vests. Powerless as winter sunshine were 
 Erasmus' thoughts. But what the scholar 
 
 136 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain^ 
 
 could not do, Luther, the great heart, wrought 
 easily. 
 
 Thus all the reforms represent passions and 
 enthusiasms. That citadel called " The Divine 
 Right of Kings " was not overthrown by col- 
 leges with books and pamphlets. It was the 
 pulse-beats of the heart of the people that 
 pounded down the Bastille. Ideas of the in- 
 iquity of slavery floated through our land for 
 three centuries, yet the slave pen and auction 
 block still cursed our land. At last an en- 
 thusiasm for man as man and a great passion 
 for the poor stood behind these ideas of human 
 brotherhood, and as powder stands behind the 
 bullet, flinging forth its weapons, slavery per- 
 ished before the onslaught of the heart. 
 
 The men whose duty it was to follow the 
 line of battle and bury our dead soldiers tell 
 us that in the dying hour the soldier's hand 
 unclasped his weapon and reached for the 
 inner pocket to touch some faded letter, some 
 little keepsake, some likeness of wife or mother. 
 This pathetic fact tells us that soldiers have 
 won their battles not by holding before the 
 mind some abstract thought about the rights 
 of man. The philosopher did, indeed, teach the 
 theory, and the general marked out the line 
 of attack or defense, but it was love of home 
 
 "37 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 and God and native land that entered into the 
 soldier and made his arm invincible. Back of 
 the emancipation proclamation stands a great 
 heart named Lincoln. Back of Africa's new 
 life stands a great heart named Livingstone. 
 Back of the Sermon on the Mount stands 
 earth's greatest heart — ^man's Savior. Christ's 
 truth is enlightening man's ignorance, but 
 his tears, falling upon our earth, are washing 
 away man's sin and woe. 
 
 Impotent the intellect without the support 
 of the heart. How thickly are the shores of 
 time strewn with those forms of wreckage 
 called great thoughts. In those far-off days 
 when the overseers of the Egyptian King 
 scourged 80,000 slaves forth to their task of 
 building a pyramid, a great mind discovered 
 the use of steam. Intellect achieved an instru- 
 ment for lifting blocks of granite into proper 
 place. In that hour thought made possible the 
 freedom of innumerable slaves. But the heart 
 of the tyrant held no love for his bondsmen. 
 The poor seemed of less worth than cattle. 
 Because the King's heart felt no woes to be 
 cured, his hand pushed away the engine. A 
 great thought was there, but not the kindly 
 impulse to use it. Then, full 2,000 years 
 passed over our earth. At last came an era 
 when man's heart journeyed forward with his 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 mind. Then the woes of miners and the 
 world's burden -bearers filled the ears of James 
 Watt with torment, and his sympathetic heart 
 would not let him stay until he had fashioned 
 his redemptive tool. 
 
 For generations, also, the thoughts of lib- 
 erty waited for the heart to re-enforce them 
 and make them practical in institutions. Two 
 thousand years before the era of Cromwell and 
 Hampden, Grecian philosophers wrought out 
 a full statement for the republic and individual 
 liberty. The right of life and liberty and the 
 pursuit 6f happiness were truths clearly per- 
 ceived by Plato and Pericles. But the heart 
 loved luxury and soft, silken refinements, and 
 Grecian philosophers in their palaces refused 
 to let their slaves go. 
 
 Wide, indeed, the gulf separating our age 
 of kindness from Cicero's age of cruelty! The 
 difference is 'almost wholly a difference of 
 heart. This age has oratory and wisdom, and 
 so had Cicero's ; this age has poetry and art, 
 and so had that; but our age has heart and 
 sympathy, and Cicero's had not. Caesar's 
 mind was the mind of a scholar, but his hands 
 were red with the blood of a half-million men 
 slain in unjust wars. Augustus loved refine- 
 ment, literature and music. He assembled at 
 his table the scholars of a nation, yet his cul- 
 
 ^39 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 ture did not forbid the slaying of ten thousand 
 gladiators at his various garden parties. 
 
 We admire Pliny's literary style. One 
 evening Pliny returned home from the funeral 
 of the wife of a friend and sat down to write 
 that friend a note of gratitude for having so 
 arranged the gladiatorial spectacle as to make 
 the funeral service pass off quite pleasantly. 
 For that age of intellect was also an age of 
 blood; the era of art and luxury was also an 
 era of cruelty and crime. The intellect lent 
 a shining luster to the era of Augustus, but 
 because it was intellect only it was gilt and 
 not gold. Had the heart re-enforced the in- 
 tellect with sympathy and justice the age of 
 Augustus might have been an era golden, in- 
 deed, and also perpetual. 
 
 Great men capitalize the impotency of unsup- 
 ported intellect. Ten-talent men have often 
 known more than they would do. 'The children 
 of genius have not always lived up to their moral 
 light. Burns' mind ran swiftly forward, but his 
 will followed afar off. If the poet's forehead was 
 in the clouds, his feet were in the mire. How 
 noble, also, Byron's thoughts, but how mean 
 his life! Goethe uttered the wisdom of a sage, 
 as did Bousseau, yet their deeds were often 
 those we would expect from a slave with a low 
 brow. Even of Shakespeare, it is said in the 
 
 140 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 morning he polished his sonnets, while at mid- 
 night he poached game from a neighboring 
 estate. Our era bestows unstinted admiration 
 upon the essays of Lord Bacon. How noble 
 his aphorisms! How petty his envy and 
 avarice! What scholarship was his, and what 
 cunning also! With what splendor of argu- 
 ment does he plead for the advancement of 
 learning and liberty! With what meanness 
 does he take bribes from the rich against the 
 poor! His mind seems like a palace of marble 
 with sflendid galleries and library and ban- 
 queting hall, yet in this palace the spider spins 
 its web and vermin make the foundations to 
 be a noisome place. 
 
 In all ages also the intellect of the com- 
 mon people has discerned truth and light that 
 the will has refused to fulfill. Generations 
 ago society discovered the doctrine of in- 
 dustry and integrity, and yet thousands of in- 
 dividuals still prefer to steal or beg or starve 
 rather than work. For centuries the work of 
 moralists and public instructors has not been 
 so much the making known new truth as the 
 inspiring men to do a truth already known. 
 As of old, so now, the word is nigh man, even 
 in his mouth, for enabling society to lift every 
 social burden, right every social wrong, turn 
 each rookery into a house, make each market- 
 
 141 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 place wealth, make every home happiness, 
 make every child a scholar, ■ a patriot and a 
 Christian. In Solomon's day wisdom stood in 
 the corner of the streets but man would not 
 regard, and the city perished. Should the 
 heart now join the intellect, man's feet would 
 swiftly find these paths that lead to prosperity 
 and perfect peace. 
 
 Fascinating, indeed, the question how feel- 
 ing and sentiment control conduct and char- 
 acter. Modern machinery has thrown light 
 upon the problems of the soul. The engineer 
 finds that his locomotive will not run itself, 
 but waits for the steam to pound upon the 
 piston. The great ships also are becalmed 
 until the trade winds come to beat upon the 
 sails. Informed by these physical facts, we now 
 see a noble thought or ambition or social ideal 
 is a mechanism that will not work itself, but 
 asks the enthusiastic heart to lend power 
 divine. Some of earth's greatest orators, like 
 Patrick Henry, have been unlearned men, buc 
 no orator has ever fallen short of being an 
 enthusiastic man. A generation ago there 
 appeared in Paris one whose voice was counted 
 the most perfect voice in Europe. Musical 
 critics gave unstinted praise to the purity of 
 tone and accuracy of execution. Yet in a few 
 weeks the audiences had dwindled to a handful, 
 
 142 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 and in a few years the singer's name was for- 
 gotten. Obscurity overtook the singer be- 
 cause there was no heart behind the voice 
 and so the tones became metallic. Con- 
 trariwise, the history of Jenny Lind 
 contains a letter to a friend in Sweden, in 
 which the singer writes: "Oh, that I may live 
 two years longer and be permitted to save 
 enough money to complete my orphans' homel " 
 As the sun's warm beams lend a soft blush to 
 the rose and pulsate the crimson tides through 
 to the uttermost edge of each petal, so a great, 
 loving sympathy, sang and sighed, thrilled 
 and throbbed through the tones of the Swed- 
 ish singer, and ravished the hearts of the peo- 
 ple and made her name immortal. 
 
 History portrays many men of giant 
 minds whose intellect could not redeem them 
 from aimlessness and obscurity. Not until 
 some divine enthusiasm descended upon 
 tbe mind and baptized it with heroic action 
 did these men find themselves. To that 
 young patrician, Saul, journeying to Da- 
 mascus, came the heavenly vision, and 
 the new impulse of the heart made his cold 
 mind warm, lent wings to his slow feet, made 
 all his days powerful, made his soul the center 
 of an immense activity. This glowing heart of 
 Paul explains for us the fact that he achieved 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 freedom of thought and speech, endured the 
 stones with which he was bruised, the stocks 
 in which he was bound, the mobbings with 
 which he was mutilated; explains also his 
 eloquence, known and unrecorded; explains 
 his faith and fortitude, his heroism in death. 
 And not only has the zeal of the heart 
 made strong men stronger, turned weak men 
 into giants, lent the soldier his conquering 
 courage and lent the, scholar a stainless life — 
 to men whose will has been made weak by in- 
 dulgence, the new love has come to redeem 
 intellect and will from the bondage of habit. 
 No one who ever heard John B. Gough can 
 forget his marvelous eloquence, his wit and his 
 pathos, his scintillating humor, his inimitable 
 dramatisms. He did not have the polished bril- 
 liancy of Everett or the elegant scholarship of 
 Phillips, and yet when these numbered thous- 
 ands of admirers, Gough numbered his tens of 
 thousands. In his autobi ography this man tells 
 us to what sad straits passion had brought him; 
 how he reflected upon the injury he was doing 
 himself and others, only to find that his reflec- 
 tions and resolutions snapped like cobwebs be- 
 fore the onslaught of temptation. One night 
 the young bookbinder drifted into a little 
 meeting and, buttoning his seedy overcoat to 
 conceal his rags, in some way he found 
 
 144 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 himself upon his feet and began to speak. 
 The address that proved a pleasure to 
 others was a revelation to himself. For the 
 first time Gough tasted the joys of moving 
 men and mastering them for good. Within a 
 week that love of public speech and useful serv- 
 ice had kindled his mental faculties into a 
 creative glow. The new and higher love of 
 the heart consumed the lower love of the body, 
 just as the sun melts manacles of ice from a 
 man's wrist. 
 
 History is full of these transformations 
 wrought by the heart. It was a new enthusi- 
 asm that changed Augustine the epicurean into 
 Augustine the church father. It was a new 
 enthusiasm that turned Howard the pleasure- 
 lover into Howard the prison-reformer. It was 
 a glowing heart that lent power to Mazzini and 
 Garibaldi and gave Italy her new hope and 
 liberty. Indeed, the history of each life is the 
 history of its new loves. The enthusiasms are 
 beacon lights that glow in the highway along 
 which the soul journeys forward. When the 
 hero's ships were becalmed Virgil tells us that 
 .Solus struck the hollow mountain with his staff 
 and straightway, released from their caves, the 
 winds went forth to stir the waves and smite 
 upon the sails and sweep the becalmed ship on 
 toward its harbor. Oh, beautiful story, tell- 
 
 H5 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 ing us how Christ touches the heart with Lis 
 regenerating hand to release the soul's deeper 
 convictions, to sweep man forward to the 
 heavenly haven I 
 
 If sentiment working in sound can make 
 music; if working in colors, etc., it can fill 
 galleries with statues and pictures; if senti- 
 ment working in literature can produce poems, 
 it should not seem strange that the heart, with 
 its affections, furnishes the key of knowledge 
 and wisdom. The time was when authors were 
 supposed to think out their truths ; now we know 
 that the greatest truths are felt out. Matthew 
 Arnold said that mere knowledge is cold as an 
 icicle, but once experienced and touched with 
 noble feelings truth becomes sweetness and 
 light. This author thought that the first 
 requisite for a good writer was a sensitive and 
 sympathetic heart. 
 
 Even in Shakespeare the springs of genius 
 were not in the mind. The heart of our great- 
 est poet was so sensitive that he Could not see 
 an apple blossom without hoping that no un- 
 timely frost would nip it; could not see the 
 clusters turn purple under the autumn sun 
 without hoping that hailstones would not pound 
 off the rich clusters; could not see a youth 
 leave his home to seek his fortune without 
 praying that he would return to his mother 
 
 146 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 laden with rich treasures; could not see 
 a bride go down the aisle of the church without 
 sending up a petition that many years might 
 intervene before death's hand should touch her 
 white brow. Sympathy in the heart so fed the 
 springs of thought in the mind that it was easy 
 for the poet to put himself in another's place. 
 And so, while his pen wrote, his heart felt itself 
 to be the king and also his servant, to be the mer- 
 chant and also his clerk, to be the general and 
 also his soldier. He saw the assassin drawing 
 near the throne with a dagger beneath his cloak ; 
 he went forth with King Lear to shiver be- 
 neath the wintry blasts ; he rejoiced with Rosa- 
 lind and wept with Hamlet, and there was no 
 joy or grief or woe or wrong that ever touched 
 a human heart that he did not perfectly feel 
 and, therefore, perfectly describe. For depth 
 of mind begins with depth of heart. The 
 greatest writers are primarily seers and only 
 incidentally thinkers. As of old, so now, for 
 a thousand thinkers there is only one great 
 seer. 
 
 Having affirmed the influence of the heart 
 upon the intellect and scholarship, let us has- 
 ten to confess that the heart determines the 
 religious belief and creed. It is often said that 
 belief is a matter of pure reason determined 
 wholly by evidence. And doubtless it is true 
 
 H7 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 that in approaching mathematical proofs man 
 is to discharge his mind of all color. That two 
 and two are four is true for the poet and the 
 miser, for the peaceable man not less than the 
 litigious. But of the other truths of life it is 
 a fact that with the heart man believes. We 
 approach wheat with scales, we measure 
 silk with a yardstick; we test the painting 
 with taste and imagination, and the symphony 
 with the sense of melody, motives and actions 
 are tested by conscience; we approach the stars 
 with a telescope, while purity of heart is the 
 glass by which we see God. The scales that 
 are useful in the laboratory are utterly value- 
 less in the art gallery. The scientific faculty 
 that fits Spencer for studying nature unfits him 
 for studying art. In his old age Huxley, the 
 scientist, wrote an essay forty pages long to 
 prove that man was more beautiful than 
 woman. Imagine some Tyndall approaching 
 the transfiguration of Raphael to scrape oif the 
 colors and test them with acid and alkali for 
 finding out the proportion of blue and crimson 
 and gold. These are the methods that would 
 give the village paint-grinder precedency above 
 genius itcelf. 
 
 In 1837 two boys entered Faneuil hall and 
 heard Wendell Phillips' defense of Lovejoy. 
 One youth was an English visitor who saw the 
 
 148 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 portraits of Otis and Hancock, yet saw them 
 not; heard the words of Phillips, yet heard 
 them not, and because his heart was in London 
 believed not unto patriotism. But the blood 
 of Adams was in the veins of the other youth. 
 He thought of Samuel Adams, who heard the 
 firing at Lexington and exclaimed : "What a 
 glorious morning this is!" He thought of John 
 Adams and his love of liberty. He thought of 
 the old man eloquent, John Quincy Adams, in 
 the Halls of Congress, and as he listened to 
 the burning words of the speaker, tears filled 
 his eyes and pride filled his soul. It was his 
 native land. With his heart he believed unto 
 patriotism. 
 
 What the man is determines largely 
 what his intellect thinks about God. When 
 the heart is narrow, harsh and rigorous 
 its theology is despotic and cruel. When the 
 heart grows kindly, sympathetic and of autum- 
 nal richness, it emphasizes the sympathy and 
 love of God. Each man paints his own picture 
 of God. The heart lends the pigments. Souls 
 full of sweetness and light fill the divine por- 
 trait with the lineaments of love. For with 
 thfe heart man believeth unto righteousness. 
 
 Happy, indeed, our age, in that the heart is 
 now beginning to color our civilization. Vast, 
 indeed, the influence of library and lecture-hall, 
 
 149 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 of gallery and store and market-place, but the 
 most significant fact of our day is that sym- 
 pathy is baptizing our industries and institu- 
 tions with new effort. Intellect has lent the 
 modern youth instruments many and powerful. 
 Inventive thought has lent fire to man's forge, 
 tools for his hands, books for his reading, 
 has lent arts, sciences, institutions. The 
 modern youth stands forth in the aspect 
 of the Roman conqueror to whom the citi- 
 zens went forth to bestow gifts, one taking his 
 chariot, one leading a steed, the children scat- 
 tering flowers in the way, young men and 
 maidens taking the hero's name upon their 
 lips. Unfortunately multitudes have declined 
 those high gifts, turning away from the open 
 door of the schoolhouse and college; many 
 young feet have crossed the threshold of 
 the saloon. Having entered our museum 
 or art-gallery, multitudes enter places of evil 
 resort. 
 
 Despising the opportunity offered by music 
 or eloquence, by book or newspaper, by trade 
 and profession, many choose sloth and self- 
 indulgence. These needy millions, blinded 
 with sin and ignorance, stand forth as a great 
 opportunity for loving hearts. Sympathy is 
 making beautiful the pathway of knowledge, 
 that young hearts may be allured along the 
 
 150 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 shining way. By a thousand arts and de- 
 vices young people of refinement and cul- 
 ture are founding centers of light among the 
 poor. The opportunity that William the Silent 
 found in the starving millions of Holland; that 
 Garrison found in the miserable slaves of the 
 South; that Livingstone found in Africa, the 
 modern hero is finding in the tenement-house 
 district. Through sympathy a new hope is 
 entering into all classes of society. 
 
 The heart is also coloring industry. This 
 year it is said that more than a score of great 
 industrial institutions in our country have, to 
 the factory, added gymnasium, recreation-hall, 
 schoolroom, library, free musicals and lectures. 
 The intellect has failed to solve the social 
 problems by, giving allopathic doses from Poor 
 Richard's Almanac. Impotent also those 
 dreamers who have insisted that society must 
 have socialism — either God's or the devil's. Im- 
 potent those who, during the past week, have 
 proposed to cure economic ills by spitting the 
 heads of tyrants upon bayonets. But what force 
 and law cannot do is slowly being done by 
 sympathy and good-will. The heart is 
 taking the rigor out of toil, the drudgery 
 out of service, the cruelty out of laws, 
 harshness out of theology, injustice out of pol- 
 itics. Love has done much. The social gains 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 of the future are to be to the gradual progress 
 of sympathy and love. 
 
 Unto man who goes through life working, 
 weeping, laughing, loving, comes the heart 
 believing unto immortality. For reason oft 
 the immortal hope burns low and the stars dim 
 and disappear, but for the heart, never ! 
 Scientists tell us matter is indestructible. And 
 the heart nourishes an immortal hope that 
 no doubt can quench, no argument destroy, no 
 misfortune annihilate. Comforting, indeed, for 
 reasons, the arguments of Socrates that life 
 survives death. After the death of his be- 
 loved daughter Tullia, Cicero outlined argu- 
 ments which have consoled the mind of multi- 
 tudes. But in the hour of darkness and 
 blackness, for a man to put out upon Death's 
 dark sea, upon the argument of Cicero, is like 
 some Columbus committing himself to a single 
 plank in the hope of discovering an unseen 
 continent. 
 
 In these dark hours the heart speaks. In the 
 poet's vision, to blind Homer, falling into the 
 bog, torn by the thorns and thickets and lost 
 in the forest and the night, came the young 
 goddess, the daughter of Light and Beauty, to 
 take the sightless poet by the hand and lead 
 him up the heavenly heights. Sometimes in- 
 tellect seems sightless and wanders lost in the 
 
 152 
 
The Supremacy of Heart Over Brain. 
 
 maze. Then comes the heart to lead man along 
 the upward path. For even in its dreams the 
 heart hears the somid of invisible music. Oft 
 before reason's eye the heart unveils the Vision 
 Splendid. The soul is big with immortality, 
 When the heart speaks it is God within mak- 
 ing overtures for man to come upward toward 
 home and heaven. 
 
 153 
 
Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
« To live absolutely each man for himself could not be possible 
 if all were to lire together. In course of time, in addition to utility, 
 certain more sensitive individuals began to see a charm, a beauty 
 in this consideration for others. Gradually a sort of sanctity 
 attached to it, and nature had once more illustrated her mysterious 
 method of evolving from rough and even savage necessities her 
 lovely shapes and her tender dreams. To assert, then, with some 
 recent critics of Christianity, that that law of brotherly love which 
 is its central teaching is impracticable of application to the needs of 
 society, is simply to deny the very first law by which society 
 exists. — Richard Lt Galliine, in " The Religion of a literary 
 Man." 
 
 " It is only with renunciations that life, properly speaking, 
 can be sud to begin. ... In a valiant suffering for 
 others, not in a slothful making others suffer for us, did noble- 
 ness ever lie." — Carlyle, 
 
 " You talk of self as the motive to exertion. I tell you it is 
 the abnegation of self which has wrought out all that is noble, all 
 that is good, all that is useful, nearly all that is ornamental in the 
 world." — Whyle Melmlle. 
 
 "Jesus said: 'Whosoever will come after Me, let him re- 
 nounce himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me.' 
 Perhaps there is no other maxim of Jesus which has such a com- 
 bined stress of evidence for it and may be taken as so eminently 
 His." — Mallitw Arnold. 
 
CHAPTER Vm. 
 Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
 History has crowned self-sacrifice as one of 
 the virtues. In all ages selfishness has been 
 like a fame consuming society, like a sword 
 working waste and ruin, but self-sacrifice has 
 repaired these ravages and achieved for man 
 victories many and great. The church owes 
 so much to the company of martyrs whose 
 blood has crimsoned her every page, the state 
 is so deeply indebted to the patriots who have 
 given their lives for liberty, man has derived 
 such strength from those who have endured 
 the fetter and the fagot rather than belie 
 their convictions, woman has derived such 
 beauty from the example of that Antigone who 
 died rather than desert the body of her dead 
 brother, as that each modern youth beholds 
 self-sacrifice standing forth clothed with im- 
 measurable excellence. 
 
 Not large the company of the Immortals 
 whose birthdays society celebrates. Yet when 
 on these high days, through song or story the 
 poet or orator draws back the veil and reveals 
 to the assembled multitude the face of some 
 Garibaldi or Hampden or Lincoln, the beloved 
 
The Investment of Influence, 
 
 one is seen to be clothed with genius and 
 beauty and truth indeed, but also to be 
 crowned with self-sacrifice. Society makes 
 haste to forget him who remembers only him- 
 self. As there can be no illiterate sage, no 
 ignorant Shakespeare, so history knows no 
 selfish hero. For the mercenary forehead 
 memory has no wreath, A sentinel with a 
 flaming sword guards the threshold of the 
 temple of fame against those aspirants named 
 Ease, Avarice, Self-indulgence, 
 
 "Shall I be remembered by posterity?" 
 asked the dying Garfield. In this eager, trem- 
 ulous question the renowned and the obscure 
 alike have a pathetic interest. For the deeply 
 reflective mind oblivion is a thought all unen- 
 durable. The tool man fashions, the structure 
 he rears, the success he achieves, not less than 
 his marble monument, looks down upon the 
 beholder with a mute appeal for recollection. 
 To each eager aspirant for everlasting remem- 
 brance Christ comes whispering his secret of 
 abiding renown. Speaking not as an amateur, 
 but as a master, Christ afiirms that he who 
 would save his life must lose it, that he who 
 would be remembered by others must forget 
 himself, that the soldier who flees from danger 
 to save his body shall leave that life upon the 
 battlefield, while he who plunges his banner 
 
Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
 into the very thick of the fight and is carried 
 off the field upon his shield shall in safety bear 
 his life away. Hard seem the terms ; they re- 
 buke ease, they smite self-indulgence, they 
 deny the maxims of the worldly wise. But in 
 accepting Christ's principle and forsaking 
 their palaces that they might be as brothers 
 to beggars, Xavier and Loyola found an ex- 
 hilaration denied to kings; while each Sir 
 Launfal, in his ease denied the Holy Grail, has 
 in the hour of self-sacrifice discerned the Vision 
 Splendid. To each young patriot and soldier 
 looking eagerly unto the tablets that com- 
 memorate the deeds of heroes, to each young 
 scholar aspiring to a place beside the sages, 
 comes this word: Life is through death, and 
 immortal renown through self-renunciation. 
 
 This law of self-sacrifice is imbedded in 
 nature. Minot, the embryologist, and Drum- 
 mond, the scientist, tells us that only by los- 
 ing its life does the cell save it. The new 
 science exhibits the body as a temple, con- 
 structed out of cells, as a building is made of 
 bricks. Just as some St. Peter represents 
 strange marble from Athens, beauteous woods 
 from Cyprus, granite from Italy, porphyry 
 from Egypt, all brought together in a single 
 cathedral, so the human body is a glorious 
 temple built by those architects called living 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 cells. When the scientist searches out the be- 
 ginning of bird or bud or acorn he comes to a 
 single cell. Under the microscope that cell is 
 seen to be absorbing nutrition through its 
 outer covering. But when the cell has at- 
 tained a certain size its life is suddenly threat- 
 ened. The center of the cell is seen to be so 
 far from the surface that it can no longer draw 
 in the nutrition from without. The bulk has 
 outrun the absorbing surface. ' ' The alternative 
 is very sharp," says the scientist, "the cell 
 must divide or die." Only by losing its life 
 and becoming two cells can it save its life. 
 
 Later on, when each of the two cells has 
 grown again to the size of the original one, the 
 same peril threatens them and they too must 
 divide or die. And when through this law of 
 saving life by losing it nature has made sure 
 the basis for bud and bird, for beast and man, 
 then the principle of sacrifice goes on to secure 
 beauty of the individual plant or animal and 
 perpetuity for the species. In the center of 
 each grain of wheat there is a golden spot that 
 gives a yellow cast to the fine flour. That spot 
 is called the germ. When the germ sprouts 
 and begins to increase, the white fiour taken 
 up as food begins to decrease. As the plant 
 waxes, the surrounding kernel wanes. The 
 life of the higher means the death of the lower. 
 
 1 60 
 
Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
 In the orchard also the flower must fall that 
 the fruit may swell. If the young apple grows 
 large, it must begin by pushing off the blos- 
 som. But by losing the lower bud, the tree 
 saves the higher fruit. 
 
 Centuries ago Herodotus, the Grecian trav- 
 eler, noted a remarkable custom in Egypt. 
 Each springtime, when the palms flowered, the 
 Egyptians went into the desert, cut off 
 branches from the wild palms and, bringing 
 them back to their gardens, waved them over 
 the flowers of the date trees. What was meant 
 by this ceremony Herodotus did not know. 
 The husbandmen believed that if they neglected 
 it the gods would give them but a scanty crop 
 of dates. It was reserved for the science of 
 our century, through Drummond, to explain the 
 fact that the one palm saved its dates because 
 the other palm lost its fertilizing pollen. 
 Should nature refuse to obey this law of losing 
 life in order to save it, man's world would be- 
 come one vast Sahara waste, an arctic desola- 
 tion. 
 
 The law of sacrifice is also industrial law. 
 Great is the power of wealth. It buys com- 
 fort, it purchases travel, it secures instruments 
 of culture for reason and taste, it is almoner 
 of bounty for sympathy and kindness. Flow- 
 ing through man's life, it seems like unto 
 
 l6l 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 some Nile flowing through Egypt with soft, 
 irrigating flow, bearing man's burdens upon 
 its currents, giving food to bird and beast. 
 But the story of each Peter Cooper, each Pea- 
 body, each Amos Lawrence, is the story of the 
 ease of life lost to-day that the strength of life 
 may be saved to-morrow. Each young mer- 
 chant loved luxury and beauty, but in the in- 
 terests of thrift he denied the eye its hunger, 
 the taste its satisfaction. When pride asked 
 for dress and show, the youth rebuked his 
 vanity. When companions scoffed at the 
 young merchant as a niggard he subdued his 
 sensitiveness and inured himself to rigid econ- 
 omy. When increasing wealth began to lend 
 influence, and society urged him to give his 
 evenings to gayety, the young merchant de- 
 nied the social instinct and gave his long win- 
 ter evenings to broadening his knowledge and 
 culture. Having lost the lower good, at last 
 the time came when the American merchant 
 and philanthropist had saved for himself uni- 
 versal fame. Having lost ease and self-indul- 
 gence during the first half of his life, he saved 
 the higher ease and comfort for the second 
 period of his career. 
 
 Similarly of the young men in Parlia- 
 ment who to-day have charge of the des- 
 tinies of the English empire, it may be 
 
 162 
 
Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
 said that they have saved their lives, because 
 the fathers lost theirs. One hundred years 
 ago these fathers made exiles of themselves in 
 the interests of their sons and daughters. The 
 East India merchant exiled himself into the 
 tropic land where heat and malaria made his 
 skin as yellow as the gold he gained. Others 
 braved the perils of the African forests, dared 
 the dangers of Australian deserts, endured the 
 rigor of the arctic cold. Losing the lower and 
 present happiness, they saved the higher ease 
 and comfort for their sons. The self-denial of 
 yesterday brought the influence of to-day. 
 Upon this principle God has organized the 
 industrial world. Man must take his choice 
 between ease and wealth; either may be his 
 but not both. 
 
 Sacrifice is also the secret of beauty, culture 
 and character. Selfishness eats sweetness 
 from the singer's voice as rust eats the edge 
 of a sword. St. Cecilia refused to lend the 
 divine touch to lips steeped in pleasure. He 
 who sings for love of gold finds his voice be- 
 coming metallic. In art, also, Hitchcock has 
 said: "When the brush grows voluptuous it 
 falls like an angel from heaven. " Fra Angelico 
 refuses an invitation to the Pitti palace, 
 choosing rather his crust and pallet in the cell 
 of the monastery The artist gave his morn- 
 
 163 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 ings to the poor, his evenings to his canvas. 
 But when the painter had worn his life away 
 in kindly deeds, men found that the light 
 divine had been transferred to the painter's 
 canvas. Eloquence also loves sincere lips. 
 The history of oratory includes few great 
 scenes — Demosthenes' plea for Athenian lib- 
 erty that resulted in his death, Luther's single 
 challenge to the hosts of Pope and Emperor, 
 Wendell Phillips' at Faneuil Hall, Lincoln's at 
 Gettysburg. All these risked life for a cause, 
 and were baptized with eloquence, their words 
 being tipped with fire, their minds hurling 
 thunderbolts. 
 
 Sacrifice also is the secret of beauty. After 
 a little time the life of pleasure and selfishness 
 will make the sweetest fact opaque and repel- 
 lent, while self-sacrificing thoughts are cos- 
 metics that at last make the plainest face to 
 be beautiful. In the calm of scholarship men 
 have given up the thought that culture con. 
 sists of an exquisite refinement in manners 
 and dress, in language and equipage. The 
 poet laureate makes Maud the type of polished 
 perfection. She is " icily regular, splendidly 
 null," for culture is more of the heart than of 
 the mind. But as eloquence means that an 
 orator has so mastered the laws of posture, 
 and gesture and thought and speech that 
 
 164 
 
Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
 they are utterly forgotten, and have become 
 second nature, so knowledge becomes culture, 
 and physical perfection becomes beauty, only 
 when it is unconscious. 
 
 In the moral realm also, the gains for the 
 soul begin with loss. In the hour of tempta- 
 tion he who sacrifices the higher duty to the 
 lower pleasure will find that ease has shorn 
 away the strength of Samson. 
 
 Victor Hugo has pictured a man committing 
 suicide through poverty, and deserting the 
 duty and dwelling where God has placed him. 
 But waking in the next world, the man per- 
 ceives a letter on the way to himself announc- 
 ing a large inheritance which would have been 
 his had he but been patient. Therefore the 
 great novelist aflQrms that God makes such a 
 man begin over again, only under harder con- 
 ditions, the existence that here he has will- 
 fully shattered. What a tragedy is his who, 
 to save the present good, will lose the higher 
 life. Whittier expressed the fear that Daniel 
 Webster saved his life only to lose it. In his 
 works the poet recalls the time when for gen- 
 ius of statesmanship and weight of mentality 
 Webster's like was not upon our earth. But 
 in an evil hour the statesman saw that the 
 presidency was a prize that could be gained by 
 giving the fugitive slave law as a sop to the 
 
 165 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 South. In that hour his character suffered 
 grievous injury. In the attempt to save men's 
 votes he lost men's higher respect. In deepest 
 sorrow his admirers, abroad and at home, 
 cried out: " O, Lucifer, thou son of the morn- 
 ing, how art thou fallen! " 
 
 The law of sacrifice is also the law of prog- 
 ress and civilization. When history exhibits 
 as dead the nations that have been pleasure- 
 seekers it declares that the state that saveth 
 its life shall lose it. In our own land the 
 bankruptcy and gloom that have for years 
 overshadowed the South speak eloquently of a 
 national gain that is a loss. One hundred 
 years ago the North freed its slaves. Later, 
 when the constitution was adopted, many 
 statesmen believed that slavery was losing its 
 hold in the South. Jefferson said: "When I 
 think that God is just I tremble for my coun- 
 try." In that hour the statesman prophesied 
 that slavery would soon melt away like the 
 vanishing snow of April. But when Whitney 
 invented his gin and the raising of cotton be- 
 came very lucrative slavery took on new life. 
 It was Lord Brougham who first said that 
 when slavery brought in 100 percent, while it 
 was seen to be immoral, not all the navies 
 of the world could stop it. Later, when it 
 brought in 200 percent, it became a peculiar 
 
 i66 
 
Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
 institution, patterned after the system of the 
 patriarchs. But when it brought in 300 per- 
 cent master and slave became a Christian re- 
 lation, and slavery was baptized with quota- 
 tions from the Old Testament. 
 
 But avarice could not forever blind men's 
 eyes to scenes of sorrow, nor stop their ears 
 to sounds of woe. When the horrors of the 
 slave-market and the infamies of the cotton- 
 field filled all the land with shame reformers 
 arose, declaring that the attempt to compress 
 and confine liberty would end in explosion. 
 In that hour Northern men made tentative 
 overtures looking to the purchase of all slaves. 
 But slavery, Delilah-like, made the southern 
 leaders drunk with the cup of sorcery. They 
 scorned the proposition. In the light of sub- 
 sequent events we see that in saving her in- 
 stitution the South lost it, and with it her 
 wealth, while in losing her slaves the North 
 gained her wealth. Under free labor the North 
 doubled its population, its manufactories, its 
 riches and waxed mighty. Under slave-labor 
 the South dwindled in wealth and became only 
 the empty shell of a state. The spark fired at 
 Fort Sumter kindled a conflagration that 
 swept through the sunny South like a devas- 
 tating fire and revealed its inner poverty. 
 When four years had passed by the farmhouses 
 
 167 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 and factories were ruins, the village was a 
 heap, the town a desolation. Graveyards were 
 as populous as cities, each village had its com- 
 pany of cripples, the cry of the orphan and 
 the widow filled all the land. 
 
 When Charles Darwin returned from his 
 voyage around the world, he sent a generous 
 contribution to the London Missionary So- 
 ciety. The great scientist had discovered that 
 in lessening her wealth through missions Eng- 
 land had saved her treasure through com- 
 merce. Traveling in foreign lands, Darwin 
 noticed that the Christian teachers in schools 
 that now touch 3,000,000 of young men and 
 women in India, were really commercial agents 
 for England's trade. In awakening the minds 
 of the darkened millions the teacher had cre- 
 ated a demand for books, newspapers and 
 printing-presses. In awakening the sense of 
 self-respect the teacher had created a demand 
 for English clothing and the product of Eng- 
 lish looms. Also the influence of each home, 
 with its comforts and conveniences, created a 
 demand for English tools and improvements of 
 labor. Summing up his observation, Lord 
 Havelock said that each thousand dollars Eng- 
 land had spent upon her missions had brought 
 a return of a hundred thousand dollars through 
 her commerce. Hitherto the interibr of 
 
 i68 
 
Renown Through Self-Renunciation. 
 
 China has been closed to English merchants. 
 To that dark land, therefore, England has 
 sent 200 teachers whose homes are centers of 
 light and inspiration. When two-score years 
 have passed English fleets will be taxed to the 
 utmost to carry to China, as now to India, her 
 fabrics of cotton and wool, her presses, looms, 
 sewing-machines, her pictures, her libraries. 
 In giving of her wealth to found these desti- 
 tute schools England will save it a hundred- 
 fold and find new maVkets among 300, 000, 000 
 people. 
 
 Sacrifice is also the secret of influence. Long 
 ago Cicero noted that tales of heroes and elo- 
 quence and self-sacrifice cast a charm and spell 
 upon the people. When men sacrifice ease, 
 wealth, rank, life itself, the delight of the be- 
 holders knows no bounds. If we call the roll 
 of the sons of greatness and influence we shall 
 see that they are also the sons of self-sacrifice. 
 The Grecian hero who lost his life that he 
 might save his influence is typical of all the 
 great leaders. Phocion was a patriot and 
 martyr whose single error in judgment brought 
 down a catastrophe upon his beloved Athens. 
 When the fierce mob surrounded his house and 
 prepared to beat down his doors, friends 
 offered Phocion escape and shelter, but the 
 hero went calmly forth to meet his death. 
 
 169 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
" A gentleman's first characteristic is that fineness of structure 
 in the body which renders it capable of the most delicate sensa- 
 tion ; and of structure in the mind which renders it capable of the 
 most delicate sympathies — one may say, simply 'fineness of 
 nature.' This is, of course, compatible with heroic bodily 
 strength and mental firmness ; in fact, heroic strength is not con- 
 ceivable without such delicacy. Elephantine strength may drive 
 its way through a forest and feel no touch of the boughs, but the 
 white skin of Homer's Atrides would have felt a bent rose leaf, 
 yet subdue its feeling in glow of battle, and behave itself like 
 iron. 1 do not mean to call an elephant a vulgar animal, but if 
 you think about him carefiilly you will find that his non-vulgarity 
 consists in such gentleness as is possible to elephantine nature ; not 
 in his insensitive hide, nor in his clumsy foot, but in the way he 
 will lift his foot if » child lies in his way and in his sensitive 
 trunk, and still more sensitive mind, and capability of pique on 
 points of honor. Hence it will follow that one of the probable 
 signs of high-breeding in men generally will be their kindness and 
 mercifulness." — Modern Painters. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 History has never known another such an 
 enthusiasm for a hero as the multitude once 
 felt toward Jesus Christ. There have indeed 
 been times when such patriots as Garibaldi, 
 Kossuth and Lincoln have kindled in men an 
 enthusiasm akin to adoration and worship. 
 Yet let us hasten to confess that the qualities 
 calculated to quicken men into raptures of de- 
 votion appeared in these patriots only in frag- 
 mentary form, while they dwelt in Christ in 
 full-orbed majesty and splendor. The wel- 
 come Chicago gave to Grant upon his return 
 from his journey around the world; the en- 
 thusiasm excited by Kossuth when in 1851 he 
 drove through Broadway, New York; the 
 wave of gratitude that swept over the Italian- 
 multitude when Garibaldi appeared in Flor- 
 ence — all these are events that bear witness to 
 society's devotion to its patriots and heroes. 
 But, be it remembered, these scenes occurred 
 but once in the history of each of these great 
 men. 
 
 It stirs wonder in us, therefore, that Christ's 
 
" A gentleman's first characteristic is that fineness of structure 
 In the body which renders it capable of the most delicate sensa- 
 tion ; and of structure in the mind which renders it capable of the 
 most delicate sympathies — one may say, simply 'fineness of 
 nature.' This is, of course, compatible with heroic bodily 
 strength and mental firmness ; in &ct, heroic strength is not con- 
 ceivable without such delicacy. Elephantine strength may drive 
 its way through a forest and feel no touch of the boughs, but the 
 white sidn of Homer's Atrides would have felt a bent rose leaf, 
 yet subdue its feeling in glow of battle, and behave itself like 
 hon. I do not mean to call an elephant a vulgar animal, but if 
 you think about him carefully you will find that his non-vulgarity 
 consists in such gentleness as is possible to elephantine nature ; not 
 in his insensitive hide, nor in his clumsy foot, but in the way he 
 will lift his foot if a child hes in his way and in his sensitive 
 trunk, and still more sensitive mind, and capability of pique on 
 points of honor. Hence it will follow that one of the probable 
 liigns of high-breeding in men generally will be their kindness and 
 mercifulness. ' ' — Modern Painters. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 History has never known another such an 
 enthusiasm for a hero as the multitude once 
 felt toward Jesus Christ. There have indeed 
 been times when such patriots as Garibaldi, 
 Kossuth and Lincoln have kindled in men an 
 enthusiasm akin to adoration and worship. 
 Yet let us hasten to confess that the qualities 
 calculated to quicken men into raptures of de- 
 votion appeared in these patriots only in frag- 
 mentary form, while they dwelt in Christ in 
 full-orbed majesty and splendor. The wel- 
 come Chicago gave to G-rant upon his return 
 from his journey around the world; the en- 
 thusiasm excited by Kossuth when in 1851 he 
 drove through Broadway, New York; the 
 wave of gratitude that swept over the Italian 
 multitude when Garibaldi appeared in Flor- 
 ence — all these are events that bear witness to 
 society's devotion to its patriots and heroes. 
 But, be it remembered, these scenes occurred 
 but once in the history of each of these great 
 men. 
 
 It stirs wonder in us, therefore, that Christ's 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 every journey across the fields took on the 
 aspect of a triumphal procession, while His 
 popularity waxed with familiarity and the in- 
 creasing years. Indeed, full oft the rapture 
 men felt toward Him amounted to an intoxica- 
 tion and an ecstasy of devotion. True it is 
 that men now look upon Him through a blaze 
 of light, and, remembering His achievements 
 for art, liberty and learning, have stained His 
 name through and through with lustrous colors. 
 As at eventide we look out upon the sun 
 through white and golden clouds that the sun 
 itself has lifted, so do we behold the carpen- 
 ter's son standing forth under the dazzling 
 light of nearly two thousand years of history, 
 while the heart colors His name with all that 
 is noblest in human aspiration and achieve- 
 ment= 
 
 ITevertheless, be it instantly confessed that 
 from the very beginning this divine Teacher 
 exhibited qualities that kindled in men an en- 
 thusiasm that amounted to transcendent de- 
 light. The time was when scholars attempted 
 to explain His influence over the multitude by 
 portraying Him with a halo of light about His 
 head. Fortunately these ideas that robbed 
 men of all fellowship with their divine brother 
 have perished, and now we know that there 
 was nothing unusual about His appearance, 
 
 176 
 
The Gentleness of True GiantTiood. 
 
 nor did any effulgent light blaze forth from 
 His person. Whether or not unique beauty of 
 face and form was His we do not know. Coins 
 and statues portray for us the Roman em- 
 perors and the Greek scholars^ Yet art has 
 broken down utterly in the attempt to com- 
 bine in one face Christ! sigtfajesty and meek- 
 ness, strength an^ gentleness, suffering and 
 victory. All that! -tfe can know of His per- 
 sonal appearance flpiust be gained through im- 
 agination, as ijb clot^edi Him with those traits 
 "that— alaee cannot account for His influence 
 over the muItiljudeSv tVl^at sweet allurement 
 in the face tl>at made children leap into His 
 arms 1 What winsome" benignity that made 
 mothers feel that His touch would return the 
 babe with double worth into the parent's 
 bosom ! 
 
 Purity in others has been cold and chaste as 
 ice. How strange that in Him purity had an 
 irresistible fascination, so that the corruptest 
 and wickedest felt drawn unto Him, and "de- 
 pravity itself bowed down and wept in the 
 presence of divinity." What all-forgiving 
 love, what al'-cleansing love, in one who by a 
 mere look could dissolve in repentant tears 
 men long hardened by vice and crime ! What 
 an atmosphere of power He must have carried, 
 that by one beam from His eye He could smite 
 
 T77 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 to the very ground the soldiers who confronted 
 Him I 
 
 Did ever man have such a genius for noble 
 friendship? What bosom words He used I 
 What love pressure in all His speech I How 
 were His words laden with double meanings, 
 so that hearing one thing, men also heard an- 
 other, even as they who hear the sound of the 
 distant sea, knowing that the sound they hear 
 is but a breath of the great infinite ocean that 
 heaves beyond in the dim, vast dark. Among 
 all the heroes of time He walks solitary by the 
 greatness of His power. His beauty and the 
 wonder of love His personality excited. Stand- 
 ing in the presence of some glorious cathedral 
 or gallery, beholding the Parthenon or pyra- 
 mids, the rugged mountain or the beautiful 
 landscape, emotion and imagination are some- 
 times so deeply stirred that men lose command 
 of themselves and break into transports of ad- 
 miration. But the enthusiam evoked by 
 mountain or statue or canvas is as nothing 
 compared to the rapturous devotion felt by the 
 multitude for this One, who united in full 
 splendor all those eminent qualities of mind 
 and heart that all the ages and generations 
 have in vain sought to emulate. High over 
 all the other worthies He rises like a star rid- 
 
 178 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 ing in untroubled splendor above the low- 
 browed hills. 
 
 In all ages great men have educated them- 
 selves by reading the biography of ancient 
 worthies, and emulating the example of the 
 heroes of antiquity. Great has been the in- 
 fluence of these reformers and philosophers, 
 statesmen and poets, hanging in the heavens 
 above men and raining down inspiration upon 
 the human imagination. Yet from all the 
 worthies of the past, and all modern heroes, 
 man has drawn less of inspiration and personal 
 influence than from the single example of this 
 ideal Christ. Passing by His influence upon 
 institutions, education, art and literature, we 
 shall do well to consider how His example has 
 instructed man in the art of a right carriage 
 of the faculties in the home and market-place. 
 In the last analysis, Jesus Christ is the only 
 perfect gentleman our earth has ever known — 
 in comparison with whom all the Chesterfields 
 seem boors. For nothing taxes a man so 
 heavily as the task of maintaiaing smooth, 
 pleasant and charitable relations with one's 
 fellows. And Christ alone was able always to 
 meet storm with calm, hate with love, scowls 
 with smiles, plottings with confidence, envy 
 and bitterness with unruflSied tranquility. 
 
 179 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 In all His relations with His friends and 
 enemies the quality that crowns His method 
 of living and challenges our thought is the 
 gentleness of His bearing. Matchless the 
 mingled strength and beauty of His life, yet 
 gentleness was the flower and fruitage of it 
 all. For in Him the lion and the lamb dwelt 
 together. Oak and rock were there, and also 
 vine and flower. Weakness is always rough. 
 Only giants can be gentle. Tenderness is an 
 inflection of strength. No error can be greater 
 than to suppose that gentleness is mere ab- 
 sence of vigor. Weakness totters and tugs at 
 its burden. When the dwarf that attended 
 Ivanhoe at the tournament lifted the bleeding 
 sufferer he staggered under his heavy burden. 
 Weakness made him stumble and caused the 
 wounded knight intense pain. When the giant 
 of the brawny arm and the unconquered heart 
 came, he lifted the unconscious sufferer like a 
 feather's weight and without a jar bore him 
 away to a secure hiding-place for healing and 
 recovering. He who studies the great men of 
 yesterday will find in the last analysis that 
 gentleness has always been the test of giant- 
 hood, and fine considerateness the measure of 
 manhood and the gauge of personal worth. 
 JN^o other hero moving through the crowds has 
 
 1 80 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 ever been so courteously gentle, so sweetly 
 considerate in his personal bearing as this 
 Christ — who never failed to kindle in men 
 transports of delight and enthusiasm. 
 
 The crying fault of our generation is its 
 lack of gentleness. Our age is harsh when it 
 judges, brutal when it blames and savage in 
 its severity. Carlyle, emptying vials of scorn 
 upon the people of England, numbering his 
 generation by "thirty millions, mostly fools," 
 is typical of the publicists, authors and critics 
 who pelt their brother man with contemptuous 
 scorn. The author of ' ' Robert Elsmere " ex- 
 hibits that polished scholar and brilliant stu- 
 dent as one who gave up teaching because he 
 could find no audience on a level with his 
 ability or worthy of his instruction. Having 
 begun by despising others, he ends by despis- 
 ing himself. Now the popularity of Elsmere's 
 character witnesses to the fact that our gen- 
 eration includes a large number of cynics who 
 scorn their fellows and in Elsmere see them- 
 selves as "in an open glass." To-day this 
 tendency toward harshness of judgment has 
 become more pronounced, and there seems to 
 be no leader so noble as to escape brutal criti- 
 cism and no movement whose white flag may 
 not be smirched by mud-slingers. What epi- 
 
 i8i 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 thets are hurled at each new idea! "What tor- 
 rents of ridicule are emptied out upon each 
 social movement! 
 
 The fact that society has oftentimes de- 
 stroyed its noblest geniuses avails little for 
 the restraint of harshness. For years Eng- 
 land was wildly merry at Turner's expense. 
 The newspapers cartooned his paintings. Ee- 
 views spoke of them as "color blotches." The 
 rich over their champagne made merry at the 
 great artist's expense. After a while men 
 found a little respite from the mad chase for 
 wealth and pleasure and discovered that Tur- 
 ner's extreme examples represented peculiar 
 moods in nature, seen only by those who had 
 traveled as widely as had Turner, while his 
 great landscapes were as rich in imaginative 
 quality as those of any artist of all ages. 
 Only when it was too late, only when harsh- 
 ness had broken the man's heart, and scorn 
 had fatally wounded his genius, did scholars 
 begin to adorn their pages by references to 
 Turner's fame, did the rich begin to pay fabu- 
 lous sums for the very pictures they had once 
 despised; the nation set apart the best room 
 in its gallery for Turner's works, while the 
 people wove for his white tombstone wreaths 
 they had denied his brow and paid his dead 
 ashes honors refused his living spirit. 
 
 182 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 In similar vein we remember the English- 
 speaking world has recently been celebrating 
 the anniversary of the birth of Keats, who is 
 the only pure Greek in all English literature, 
 for whose imagination "a thing of beauty was 
 a joy forever," and whose genius in divining 
 the secrets of the beautiful amounted to in- 
 spiration. We know now that no poet in all 
 time, who died so young, has left so much that 
 is precious. Scholars are not wanting who 
 believe that had he lived to see his maturity 
 Keats would have ranked with the five great 
 poets of the first order of genius. Yet the 
 publication of his volume of verse received 
 from " Blackwood " and the "Quarterly" only 
 contempt and bitter scorn. Waxing bold, the 
 penny-a-liners grew savage, until the very 
 skies rained lies and bitter slanders upon poor 
 Keats. Sensitive, soon he was wounded to 
 death. After a week of sleeplessness, he arose 
 one morning to find a bright red spot upon his 
 handkerchief. " That is arterial blood," said 
 he; "that drop is my death-warrant; I shall 
 die." And so, when he was one-and- twenty, 
 friends lifted above the boy's dust a marble 
 slab, upon which was written: "Here lies one 
 whose name was writ in water." Now his 
 name shines like a star, while low down and 
 bespattered with mud are the nariies of those 
 
 183 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 whose cruel criticisms helped to kill the boy 
 and whose only claim to immortality is their 
 brutality. 
 
 Witness also the contempt our age once 
 visited upon Browning, whose mind is slowly 
 becoming recognized as one of the rich-gold 
 minds of our century. Witnebj the sport over 
 Ruskin's "Munera Pulveris," and the scornful 
 reception given Carlyle's "Sartor Resartus." 
 Now that a few years have passed, those who 
 once reviled are teaching their children the 
 pathway to the graves of the great. The 
 harshness of the world's treatment of its 
 greatest teachers makes one of the most pa- 
 thetic chapters in history. God gives each 
 nation only a few men of supreme talent. 
 Gives it, for greatness is not made; it is found 
 as is Jhe gold. Gold cannot be made out of 
 mud; it is uncovered. And God gives each 
 generation a few men of the first order; and 
 when they have created truth and beauty they 
 have the right while they live to kindness and 
 sympathy, not harshness and cynicism. No 
 youth winning the first goal of his ambition 
 was ever injured by knowing that his father's 
 face did not flush with pride, while his moth- 
 er's eyes were filled with happy tears, in joy of 
 his first victory. No noble lover but girds 
 himself for a second struggle the more reso- 
 
 184 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 lutely for knowing that his noble mistress re- 
 joiced in his first conquest. Frost itself is not 
 more destructive to harvest fields than harsh- 
 ness is to the creative faculties. Strange that 
 Florence gave Dante exile in exchange for his 
 immortal poem! Strange that London gave 
 Milton threats of imprisonment for the manu- 
 script of "Paradise Lost! " Passing strange 
 that until his career was nearly run universities 
 visited upon John Ruskin only scorn and con- 
 tumely, that ruined his health and broke his 
 heart, withholding the wreath until, as he 
 said pathetically, his only "pleasure was in 
 memory, his ambition in heaven," and he 
 knew not what to do with his laurel leaves 
 save "lay them wistfully upon his mother's 
 grave." In every age the critics that have 
 refused honor to its worthies, living, have 
 heaped gifts high upon the graves of its dead. 
 That generation and individual must be far 
 from perfect that is characterized by the pres- 
 ence of harshness and the absence of gentle- 
 ness. With a great blare of trumpets our 
 century has been praised for its ingenuity, its 
 wealth and comforts, its instruments, refine- 
 ment and culture. But history tells of no man 
 who has carried his genius up to such supreme 
 excellence that society has forgotten his vice 
 or forgiven the faults that marred his rare 
 
 185 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 gifts. What genius had DeQuincey! Mar- 
 velous the myriad-minded Coleridge! The 
 opium-habit, however, was a vice that eclipsed 
 their fame and robbed them of half their right- 
 ful influence. Voltaire's style was so fault- 
 lessly perfect that if the sentences lying across 
 his page had been strings of pearls they could 
 have been no more beautiful. But Voltaire's 
 excesses make a black mark across the white 
 page before each reader's mind. Eousseau's 
 writings are so melodious that, long after 
 laying aside the book the ear would be filled 
 with the sound of delicious music were it not 
 that the reader seems ever to hear the moan of 
 the four children whose unnatural father, with- 
 out even giving them a name, placed them in the 
 foundling-asylum. 
 
 Early Carlyle wooed and won one of 
 the most brilliant girls of his day, whose 
 signal talent shone in the crowded draw- 
 ing-rooms of London like a sapphire blazing 
 among pebbles. Yet her husband lacked gen- 
 tleness. Slowly harshness crept into Carlyle's 
 voice. Soon the wife gave up her favorite 
 authors to read the husband's notes; then she 
 gave up all reading to relieve him of details ; at 
 last her very being was placed on the altar of 
 sacrifice— fuel to feed the flame of his fame and 
 genius. Long before the end came she was 
 
 i86 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 submerged and almost forgotten. One day 
 two distinguished foreign authors called 
 upon Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle. For an hour the 
 philosopher poured forth vehement tirade 
 against the commercial spirit, while the good 
 wife never once opened her lips. At last the 
 author ceased talking, and there was silence 
 for a time. Suddenly Carlyle thundered: 
 "Jane, stop breathing so loud 1" Long years 
 before Jane had stopped doing everything else 
 except breathe. And so, obedient to the in- 
 junction, a few days afterward she ceased 
 " breathing so loud." 
 
 When a few weeks had gone by Carlyle 
 discovered, through reading her journal, 
 that his wife had for want of affec- 
 tion frozen and starved to death within his 
 home like some poor traveler who had fallen 
 in the snows beyond the door. For years, 
 without his realizing it, she had kept all the 
 wheels oiled, kept his body in health and his 
 mind in happiness. Only when it was too late 
 did the husband realize that his fame was 
 largely his wife's. Then did the old man be- 
 gin his pathetic pilgrimage to his wife's grave, 
 where Froude often found him murmuring: 
 " If I had only known I If I had only known !" 
 For all his supreme gifts and rare talents were 
 marred by harshness. Intellectual brilliancy 
 
 187 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 weighs light as punk against the gold of gen- 
 tleness and character. Half Carlyle's bookSj 
 weighted by a gentle, noble spirit, would have 
 availed more for social progress than these 
 many volumes with the bad taste they leave 
 in the mouth. The sign of ripeness in an 
 apple, a peach, is beauty, and the test of char- 
 acter is gentleness and kindness of heart. 
 
 One of the crying needs of society is a re- 
 vival of gentleness and of a refined considerate- 
 ness in judging others. There is no disposi- 
 tion that cuts at the very root of character 
 like harshness, and there is nothing that 
 blights happiness and breeds discord like un- 
 lovingness and severity of judgment. We 
 hear much of industrial strife, social warfare 
 and want of sympathy between the classes. 
 Be it remembered, gentleness alone can be in- 
 voked to heal the breach. There is a legend 
 that when Jacob with his family and flocks 
 met Esau with his children and herds, the 
 angels of God hovered in the air above the 
 two brothers and began to rain gifts down 
 upon their companies. Strangely enough, 
 each forgetting the gifts falling in his own 
 camp, rushed forth to pick up the gifts falling 
 in that of his brother. There was anger 
 stirred. Epithets and stones began to fly, 
 until all the air was filled with flying weapons, 
 
 i88 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 In such a scrimmage the messengers of peace 
 had no place. Soon the sound of receding 
 wings died out of the air, the gifts ceased to 
 fall and all things faded into the light of com- 
 mon day. This legend interprets to us how 
 harshness breeds strife and robs man of his 
 gifts from God and his happiness through his 
 brother man. 
 
 Several years ago an industrial war was 
 waged in the coal districts of England that 
 cost that nation untold treasure. It is said that 
 the strife grew out of harsh words between 
 the leaders of the opposing factions. It seemed 
 that the industrious and worthy poor men 
 overlooked the fact that there were industri- 
 ous and worthy rich men and insisted on 
 speaking only of the idle and spendthrift rich. 
 Then followed his opponent who, as an in- 
 dustrious and worthy rich man, insisted on 
 ignoring the industrious and worthy poor, but 
 spoke only of the idle and thriftless poor, the 
 paupers and parasites. Soon gentleness was 
 forgotten and harshness remembered. Soon 
 there came the trampled cornfields and the 
 bloody streets. 
 
 Teachers also need to learn the lesson of 
 Arnold of Eugby. One day the great in- 
 structor spake harshly to a dull boy, who an 
 hour afterward came to him with tearful eyes, 
 
 189 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 and in a half-sobbing voice exclaimed: "But 
 why are you angry, sir? I am doing my 
 best." Then Arnold learned that a lesson 
 easy for one mind may be a torture for an- 
 other. So he begged the boy's pardon, and 
 recognized the principle of gentleness that 
 afterward made him the greatest instructor of 
 his time. 
 
 Not war, not pestilence, not famine it- 
 self, produces for each generation so much 
 misery and unhappiness as is wrought in 
 the aggregate through the accumulated harsh- 
 ness of each generation. Blessed are the hap- 
 piness-makers ! Blessed are they who with 
 himible talents make themselves like the mig- 
 nonette, creators of fragrance and peace! 
 Thrice blessed are they who with lofty talents 
 emulate the vines that climbing high never 
 forget to blossom, and the higher they climb 
 do ever shed sweet blooms upon those beneath I 
 No single great deed is comparable for a mo- 
 ment to the multitude of little gentlenesses 
 performed by those who scatter happiness on 
 every side and strew all life with hope and 
 good cheer. 
 
 Life holds no motive for stimulating gentle- 
 ness in man like the thought of the gentleness 
 of God. Unfortunately, it seems difficult for 
 man to associate delicacy and gentleness with 
 
 190 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 vastness and strength. It was the misfortune 
 of Greek philosophers and is, indeed, that of 
 nearly all the modern theologians, to suppose 
 that a perfect being cannot suffer. Both 
 schools of thought conceive of God as sitting 
 upon a marble throne, eternally young, eter- 
 nally beautiful, beholding with quiet indifference 
 from afar how man, with infinite blunderings, 
 sufferings and tears makes his way forward. Yet 
 He who holds the sun in the hollow of his hand, 
 who takes up the isles as a very little thing, who 
 counts the nations but as the dust in the 
 balance, is also the gentle One. Like the 
 wide, deep ocean, that pulsates into every bay 
 and creek and blesses the distant isles with its 
 dew and rain, so God's heart throbs and pul- 
 sates unto the uttermost parts of the universe, 
 having a parent's sympathy for His children 
 who suffer. 
 
 Indeed, the seer ranges through all nature 
 searching out images for interpreting His 
 all-comprehending gentleness. "Even the 
 bruised reed he will not break." Lifting itself 
 high in the air, a mere lead pencil for size, 
 weighted with a heavy top, a very little injury 
 shatters a reed. Some rude beast, in wild 
 pursuit of prey, plunges through the swamp, 
 shatters the reed, . leaves it lying upon the 
 ground, all bruised and bleeding, and ready 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 to die. Such is God's gentleness that, though 
 man make himself as worthless as a bruised 
 reed; though by his ignorance, frailty and sin 
 he expel all the manhood from his heart and 
 life, and make himself of no more value than 
 one of the myriad reeds in the world's swamps, 
 still doth God say: "My gentleness is such 
 that I will direct upon this wounded life 
 thoughts that shall recuperate and heal, until 
 at last the bruised reed shall rise up in 
 strength, and judgment shall issue in vic- 
 tory." 
 
 And as God's gentleness would go one 
 step further, there is added the tender lesson 
 of the smoking flax. Our glowing electric 
 bulbs suffer no injury from blasts, and our 
 lamps have like strength. The time was, 
 when, wakened by the cry of the little sufferer, 
 the ancient mother sprang up to strike the 
 tinder and light the wick in the cup of oil. 
 Only with difficulty was the tinder kindled. 
 Then how precious the spark that one breath 
 of air would put out I With what eagerness 
 did the mother guard the smoking flax! And 
 in setting forth the gentleness of God it 
 is declared that, with eyes of love. He searches 
 through each heart, and if He find so much as 
 a spark of good in the outcast, the publican, 
 the sinner, He will tend that spark and feed it 
 
 192 
 
The Gentleness of True Gianthood. 
 
 toward the love that shall glow and sparkle 
 forever and ever; for evil is to be conquered, 
 and God will not so much punish as extermi- 
 nate sin from His universe. His strength is 
 inflicted toward gentleness, His justice tem- 
 pered with mercy, and all his attributes held 
 in solution of love. No longer should medieval- 
 ism becloud God's gentle face. Cleanse your 
 thoughts, as once the artist in Milan cleansed 
 the grime and soot from the wall where Dante's 
 lustrous face was hidden. 
 
 With shouts and transports of joy and ad- 
 miration men welcome the patriot or hero who 
 in times of danger held the destiny of the peo- 
 ple in his hands and never once betrayed it. 
 And let each intellect soar without hindrance, 
 and the heart pour itself out before God in a 
 freshet of divine love. Great is the genius of 
 Plato or Bacon, revealing itself in tides of 
 thought, but greater and richer is the genius 
 of the heart that is conscious of vast, deep 
 fountains of love, that may be poured forth 
 in generous tides before the God whose throne 
 is mercy, whose face is light, whose name is 
 love, whose strength is gentleness, whose 
 considerateness is our pledge of pardon, peace 
 and immortality. 
 
 193 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity; 
 Study of the Influence of 
 Little Things. 
 
" We treat God with irreverence by banishing Him fiom our 
 thoughts, not by referring to His will on slight occasions. His 
 is not the finite authority or intelligence which cannot be troubled 
 with small things. There is nothing so small but that we may 
 honor God by asking His guidance of it, or insult Him by taking 
 it into our own hands ; and what is true of Deity is equally true 
 of His Revelation. We use it most reverently when most habit- 
 ually ; our insolence is in ever acting without reference to it, our 
 true honoring of it is in its universal application. I have been 
 blamed for the familiar introduction of its sacred words. I am 
 grieved to have given pain by so doing, but my excuse must be 
 my wish that those words were made the ground of every argu- 
 ment and the test of every action. We have them not often 
 enough on our lips, nor deeply enough in our memories, nor 
 loyally enough in our lives. The snow, the vapour and the strong 
 wind fulfil His word. Are our acts and thoughts lighter and 
 wilder than these, that we should forget it?" — Rusiiti. 
 
 " I expect to pass through this life but once. If there is any 
 kindness or any good thing I can do to my fellow-beings let me 
 do it now. I shall pass this way but once." — ffilliam Pern. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Thunder of Silent Fidelity : A 
 
 Study of the Influence of 
 
 Little Things. 
 
 Schliemaun, uncovering marbles upon which 
 Phidias and his followers carved out immor- 
 tality for themselves, has not wrought more 
 effectually for the increase of knowledge than 
 have those excavators in Egypt who have 
 uncovered the Eosetta stone, with other man- 
 uscripts of brick and marble. Of all these 
 instructive tablets and tombs, none are more 
 interesting than one picturing forth a national 
 festival in the Jewish capital. Upon his can- 
 vas of stone the unknown artist portrays for 
 us Herod's temple with its outer courts and 
 columns and its massive walls. 
 
 We see the public square crowded with mer- 
 chants and traders, who have come in from 
 the great cities of the world to this festival of 
 the fathers. With solemn pageantry, these 
 Jews, who were the bankers and merchants of 
 that far-off age, march through the streets 
 toward the gate that is called Beautiful. In 
 the vast parade are men notable by their 
 princely wealth in Ephesus and Antioch, in 
 
 197 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 Alexandria and Rome. We see one advancing 
 with his retinue of servants, another with the 
 train which corresponds to his wealth. One 
 group the artist exhibits as characteristic. 
 Advancing before their lord and master are 
 four servants, who lift up in the presence of 
 admiring spectators a platter upon which lies 
 a heap of shining gold. The murmur of admi- 
 ration that runs through the crowd is sweeter 
 to the old merchant's ear than any music of 
 harp or human voice. Passing by the treas- 
 ury, what gifts are cast upon the resounding 
 table! How heavy the bars of gold! What 
 silver plate! What pearls and jewels! How 
 rich the fabrics and hangings for the temple! 
 As at St. Peter in the sixteenth century, so 
 in Christ's day it seemed as if the whole world 
 were being swept for treasures for enriching 
 this glorious temple. 
 
 But when the lions of the procession had all 
 passed by, there followed also the crowd of 
 stragglers. From this post of observation we 
 are told that Christ saw a poor widow advanc- 
 ing. With falling tears, yet with exquisite 
 grace and tenderness, she cast in two mites, or 
 one half-penny, then passed on to worship him 
 whom she loved, all unconscious of the fact 
 that she had also passed into immortality. 
 For the noiee of the gold falling into the 
 
 ' 198 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 resounding chest has long since died away. 
 Jerusalem itself is in ruins. The old temple 
 with its magnificence has gone to decay. The 
 proud thrones and monarchies have all fallen 
 into dust. But the silent fidelity of this ob- 
 scure woman is a voice that thunders down 
 the long aisles of time. A thousand times 
 hath she encouraged heroism in poet and 
 parent. Ten thousand times hath she been an 
 inspiration to reformers and martyrs I Love 
 and fidelity have embalmed her deed and 
 lent her immortality. In the very center of 
 the world's civilization stands her monument. 
 For her Arc de Triomphe has been built in 
 the human heart. Her monument does not 
 appeal to the eye; it is not carved in stone; 
 yet it is more permanent than gold, and her 
 fame outshines all flashing jewels. While love 
 and admiration endure the story of her humble 
 fidelity shall abide indestructible! 
 
 The great Italian first noted that thrice only 
 did Christ stretch forth his hand to build a 
 monument, and each time it was to immortal- 
 ize a deed of humble fidelity. Once a disciple 
 gave a cup of cold water to one of God's little 
 ones, and won thereby imperishable renown. 
 Once a woman broke an alabaster box for her 
 master, and, lo! her deed has been like a 
 broken vase, whose perfume has exhaled for 
 
 199 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 two thousand years, and shall go on diffusing 
 sweetness to the end of time. Last of all, 
 after the rich men of Alexandria had cast their 
 rattling gold into the brazen treasury, a poor 
 widow cast a speck of dust called two mites, 
 and, lo! this humble deed gave her enduring 
 recollection. 
 
 It seems that immortal renown is achieved 
 not so much by the solitary deed of greatness 
 as by humble fidelity to life's details, and that 
 modest Christian living that regards small 
 deeds and minor duties. Ours is a world in 
 which life's most perfect gifts and sweetest 
 blessings are little things. Take away love, 
 daily work, sweet sleep, and palaces become 
 prisons and gold seems contemptible. The 
 classic poet tells of Kind Midas, to whom was 
 offered whatsoever he wished, and whose 
 avarice led him to choose the golden touch. 
 But, lo! his blessing became a curse. Rising 
 to dress he found himself shivering in a coat 
 with threads of gold. Going into his garden 
 he stooped to breathe the perfiune of the roses, 
 and, lo! the dewy petals became yellow points 
 that pierced his face. Breakfasting, the bread 
 became metal in his mouth. Lifting a goblet 
 the water became a solid mass. Swinging his 
 little daughter in his arms one kiss turned the 
 sweet child into a cold statue. A single hour 
 
 200 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 availed to drive happiness from Midas' heart. 
 In an agony of despair he besought the gods 
 for simple things. He asked for one cup of 
 cold water, one cluster of fruit and his little 
 daughter's loving heart and hand. 
 
 And as with wealth, so wisdom without life's 
 little things is impotent for happiness. Genius 
 hath its charm; nevertheless, the wisest of 
 men have also been the saddest of men. The 
 story of literary greatness is a piteous tale. 
 History tells of many beautiful and gifted girls 
 who have married scholars for their genius, 
 fame and position. When these honors were 
 theirs they wakened to discover that all were 
 less than nothing, since tenderness refused its 
 mite and sympathy gave not its cup of cold 
 water. Home and fame became dungeons in 
 which the soul sat and famished for love's 
 little courtesies. 
 
 For no palace was ever so beautiful, no royal 
 wine quaffed from vessels of gold was ever so 
 sweet as to satisfy hearts famishing for one 
 mite of that heavenly manna love prepares, or 
 one cup filled with kindness. 
 
 Down in a corner of a window of an English 
 palace may be found faint lines scratched with 
 a woman's diamond. What a tragedy in those 
 words, "My prison!" It seems the sweet girl, 
 Jane Grey, entered her palace with a leaping 
 
 20I 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 heart, but her lord had no time to break upon 
 her white forehead the tiny box of life's oint- 
 ment. Hers was the palace; hers also a thou- 
 sand rich gifts called titles, lands, castles, 
 maids of honor, dresses, jewels. Yet because 
 the castles held no sweet courtesies the jour- 
 nal of that beautiful girl reminds us of some 
 young bird that beats with bloody wings 
 against the bars of an iron cage. For life is 
 made up not of joys few and intense, but of 
 joys many and gentle. Great happiness is the 
 sum of many small drops. God makes the 
 days that are channels of mighty and tumult- 
 uous joys to be few and far between. For 
 highly spiced joys exhaust. All who seek 
 intense pleasure will find not enjoyment but 
 yearnings for enjoyment. Happiness is in 
 simple things ; a cup of cold water, health and 
 a perfect day; dreamless sleep, honest toil, 
 the esteem of the worthy, the caresses of little 
 children, a love that waxes with the increasing 
 years. 
 
 Our appreciation of the principle that great- 
 ness of any form is an accumulation of little 
 deeds will be freshened by an outlook upon 
 nature's method. The old science unveiled 
 the universe as a divine thought rushing into 
 instant form, stars and suns being sparks 
 struck out on the anvil of omnipotence. The 
 
 202 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 new science has found that earth's every atom 
 has been slowly polished by aa infinite artisan 
 and architect. If we descend into the sea we 
 shall find that the reefs and islands against 
 which the tides of the Pacific dash in vain are 
 built of coral insects, whose every organ ex- 
 hibits the delicate skill of a diamond or snow- 
 flake. If we stand upon the fruitful plain 
 where men build cities we shall discern that 
 each flake of the rich soil represents the per- 
 fect crystallization of drops of melted granite. 
 If we take the wings of the morning and 
 dwell upon the summit of the Matterhorn 
 there also we find that the mountain hath its 
 height and majesty through particles them- 
 selves weak and little. For the geologist who 
 analyzes the topmost peak of the Alpine ridge 
 must go back to a little flake of mica, that 
 ages and ages ago floated along some one of 
 earth's rivers, too light to sink, too feeble to 
 find the fiber of a lichen, therefore dropped 
 into the ooze of mire and decay. Yet hard- 
 ened by earth's processes, the day came when 
 that flake of mica was lifted up upon the 
 mountain's peak, wrought into the strength 
 of imperishable iron, ' ' rustless by the air, in- 
 fusible by the flame, capping the very summit 
 of the Alpine tower. Above it — that little 
 obscure mica flake — the north winds rage, yet 
 
 203 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 all in vain; below it — the feeble mica flake — 
 the snowy hills lie bowing themselves like 
 flocks of sheep, and the distant kingdoms fade 
 away in unregarded blue." Around it — 
 the weak, wave-drifted mica flake — booms all 
 the artillery of storms, when electric arrows 
 with blunted points fall back from its front, as 
 it lifts its might and majesty toward the endur- 
 ing stars. 
 
 If ages ago the sages said, God is not in the 
 earthquake, nor in the storm, but in the still 
 small voice, now science reaffirms the declara- 
 tion that omnipotence is revealed not so much 
 through awful cataclysms and .earthquake 
 forces as through the silent agents and hidden 
 processes that make the plains to be fruitful 
 and hillsides to be rich in corn. In the past 
 astronomy has been the favorite science, em- 
 phasizing the distant stars and suns. The 
 science of the future is to be chemistry, 
 emphasizing atoms and elements. Journeying 
 outward in pui'suit of the footsteps of God, 
 advancing upon his distant and dizzy march, 
 man's vision faints and falls upon the horizon 
 beyond which are indiscernible splendors. 
 Journeying inward upon the wings of the 
 microscope, we shall find that there is an- 
 other realm of beauty beyond which the 
 
 *Ruskin's Modem Painters, Vol. iv., page 284. 
 204 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 utmost vision of man cannot pierce. For be- 
 fore the microscope "the last discernible 
 particle dies out of sight with the same perfect 
 glory on it as on the last orb that glimmers in 
 the skirts of the universe." If God is throned 
 in the clouds He is also tabernacled in the 
 dewdrop and palaced in the bud and blossom. 
 
 The history of nations and individuals 
 teaches us that the greatest gifts are poor 
 and empty and the most signal talents worth- 
 less if the small things be not done, the two 
 mites be not given. For life is marred by 
 little infelicites and ruined by little errors. 
 The broken columns and marble heaps in lauds 
 where once were cities represent destructions 
 Hot so much through tornadoes and earth- 
 quakes as through small vices and unnoticed 
 sins. Tn modern life also, journeying through 
 city and forest and field, the economist returns 
 to tell us that life's chief wastes are through 
 little enemies and foes. It is a minute bug 
 that steals the golden berry from the wheat; 
 it is a tiny germ upon the leaf that blights the 
 budding peach and pear; it is a rough spot 
 upon the potato that fills all Ireland with fear 
 of famine; it is a worm that bores through the 
 planks of the ship's hull and alarms old sea- 
 captains as approaching battleships could not 
 
 The enemies of human life are not enemies 
 
 205 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 that fill man's streets with banners and charg- 
 ing cannon. We wage war against the dust 
 mote ambushed in the sunbeam; we fight 
 against weapons hurled from those battleships 
 called drops of impure water; we wrestle with 
 those hosts whose broadsides invisible rise 
 from streets foul, or fall from poisoned clouds. 
 Such enemies that lurk in dampness and dark- 
 ness, a thousand fall at thy side and ten 
 thousand at thy right hand. That great 
 catastrophe that overtook Holland a century 
 ago is not explained by a tidal wave that 
 pierced through the dikes; the disaster was 
 through the crawfishes that opened tiny holes 
 and, weakening the bulwarks, let in the on- 
 rushing sea. 
 
 It was but a trifling error also that robbed 
 the generations of one of man's divinest pic- 
 tures. Three hundred years ago the monks 
 made tight and strong the roof above the room 
 where was Da Vinci's " Last Supper. " A thou- 
 sand tiles were fastened down and all save one 
 were perfect. The one hid a secret hole. 
 When months had passed and the driving storm 
 came from the right direction the rain found 
 out that hidden fault and, rushing in, a flood 
 of drops streamed down o'er the wall and 
 made a great black mark across the noble 
 painting, and ruined the central face forever. 
 
 206 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 Human life is ruined through the absence of 
 hvimble virtues and the presence of little 
 faults. There is no man so great, no gift so 
 brilliant, but let it be whispered that there is 
 falseness in the life of the hero, and immedi- 
 ately his greatness is dwarfed, his eloquence 
 becomes a trick, his authority is impaired. 
 Reading Robert Bums' poems, he seems 
 wiser than all the scholars, wittier than all the 
 humorists, more courtly than princes. His 
 genius blazes like a torch among the tapers. 
 But watching this son of genius and of liberty 
 weave a net for his own feet, and fashion a 
 snare for his own faculties, with wistful hearts 
 we long, as one has said, ' ' to hear the exult- 
 ing and triumphant cry of the strong man 
 coming to himself, I will arise." But beloved 
 the barroom more than the library, and so fell 
 on death at seven and thirty, and lost his 
 right to rule as a king o'er men's hearts and 
 lives. Byron, too, and Goethe had gifts so 
 resplendent that in kings' palaces they shine 
 like diamonds amid the pebbles. What a con- 
 stellation of gifts was theirs! Culture, sanity, 
 imagination, wit, courage, vigor — all these 
 stars were grouped in their mental constella- 
 tions! Yet little vices dethroned these kings 
 and made them plebeian. It is the absence of 
 little virtues and sweet domestic graces that 
 
 207 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 seem trifling as the two mites that robs the 
 Roman poets and orators of their power over 
 us. They had urbanites indeed, flowers, music, 
 art, orSitory, letters, song. The events of 
 each day were executed like a piece of music, 
 and even their sarcophagi were covered with 
 scenes of feasting and revelry. But they were 
 not true; and that false note jars through 
 all their pages. Harshness in the poet and 
 pride in the orator make their refinement and 
 culture seem but skin deep. 
 
 We note that Pompeii was a paradise built 
 beside a crater. The traveler tells us if we 
 strike the rocky earth it rings hollow. Close 
 by the calm lake is a boiling spring. In the 
 very heart of the orange groves rises a column 
 of smoke and steam. "The mist of lava jars 
 on the music of summer, the scent of sulphur 
 mingles with the scent of roses." Not for a 
 moment can the traveler forget that beneath all 
 this opulence of color and fragrance rages a 
 colossal furnance. Thus the harshness and 
 selfishness found in the eloquence and poetry 
 of the ancient writers rob us of all joy in 
 their splendid gifts. We yield homage only 
 to the greatness that is also goodness. To 
 ten-talent power the hero must also add ten- 
 derness to his own, kindness to the weak, 
 unfailing sympathy to all. No giant is a full 
 
 208 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 giant until he is also gentle, stooping to give 
 his two mites to the weak, bearing to the 
 weary his cup of cold water, ever emulating 
 that hero. Sir Philip Sydney, wounded sorely 
 indeed, but pushing away the canteen because 
 the soldier, suffering great pain, had greater 
 need. 
 
 In one of his essays Lowell notes that the 
 great reform monuments are the himible deeds of 
 htunble persons, taken up and repeated by an 
 entire people. The final victories for liberty 
 and religion are emblazoned upon monuments 
 and celebrated in song and story, but the be- 
 ginnings of these achievements for mankind 
 are often given over to obscurity and forget- 
 fulness. Our age makes much of the "Eed 
 Cross " movement. Hardly fifty years have 
 passed since two English girls boarded 
 the steamer that was to carry them 
 to the Crimea. Upon the distant battle- 
 fields, with their deserted cannon, wounded 
 horses and dying men, at first these gentle 
 girls seemed strangely out of place. The 
 hospitals were full; neglected soldiers were 
 lying in the thickets, whither they had 
 crawled to die. Counseling with none, 
 these brave girls moved across the battle- 
 fields like angels of mercy. Many years 
 have passed. Now these nurses bring 
 
 209 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 hope to every battlefield, and minister to 
 every stricken Armenia, for the story of that 
 sweet girl has filled the earth with "King's 
 Daughters." One hundred years ago also 
 England left her orphan babes to grow up in 
 the country poorhouse, midst surroundings 
 often vulgar, profane and brutal. One day 
 two sweet babes, unnamed and unwelcomed, 
 lay in the garret of a county-house in the 
 outskirts of London. Then a poor, half-witted 
 spinster, hearing of the young mother's death, 
 found her way to the garret, brooded o'er the 
 babes with all the dignity of our Mother of 
 Sorrows, took the babes to her heart and 
 planned how, with six shillings a week, she 
 might keep bread in three hungry mouths. 
 Four years passed by, and one day the lord of 
 the manor stayed a moment before this 
 woman's hovel and heard her prayer for the 
 two boys clinging to her skirts. Soon the 
 story of the woman's mercy was heard in every 
 English pulpit, and in every town men and 
 women made their way to the county-houses 
 to take away the orphan babes and found in- 
 stead some asylum for God's little ones. Now 
 noble men in distant lands plan homes and 
 shelter for little children, and the work of the 
 obscure woman is a part of the history of 
 reform. 
 
 2IO 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 Humble also is the origin of the anti-slavery 
 movement that won its final victory at Appo- 
 mattox. A century and more ago a young 
 Moravian made his way to Jamaica as a Herald 
 of Christ and his message of good-will. The 
 horrors of slavery in that far-off time cannot 
 be understood by our age. Then each week 
 some African slaver landed with its cargo of 
 naked creatures. Slaves were so cheap that 
 it was simpler to kill them with rapid work 
 and purchase new ones than to care for the 
 wants of captives weakened by several sum- 
 mers. What horrors under overseers in the 
 field ! What outrages in slave-market and 
 pen ! So grievous were the wrongs negroes 
 suffered at white men's hands that they would 
 not listen to this young teacher. At last, 
 despairing of their confidence, the brave youth 
 had himself sold as a slave and wrought in the 
 fields under the overseer's lash. Fellowship 
 with their sufferings won their confidence and 
 love. When the day's task was done the poor 
 creatures crowded about him to receive Christ's 
 cup of cold water. Long years after the 
 young hero had fallen upon the sugar planta- 
 tion his story came to the ears of young Wil- 
 berforce and armed him with courage invinci- 
 ble against England's trafiBc in flesh and blood. 
 Soon Parliament freed the West India slaves 
 
 211 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 and Lincoln emancipated our freedmen. But 
 side by side with the heroes of liberty famed 
 through monument and solemn oration, let us 
 mention the young Moravian hero who loved 
 Christ's little ones, and in giving ' ' two mites 
 and a cup of cold water," lost his life, indeed, 
 but found immortal fame. 
 
 This modest deed that bought renown also 
 tells us that enduring remembrance is possible 
 for all. Great deeds the majority cannot do. 
 Two- talent men march in millions, but the ten- 
 talent men are few and far between. Many 
 scientists — one Newton. Thousands of poets — 
 but the Elizabethan eras are separated by cen- 
 turies. Great is the company of the orators — 
 buttoeach generation only one Webster andone 
 Clay. As each continent hath but one moun- 
 tain range, so the elect minds stand isolated 
 in the ages. All greatness is mysterious, and 
 like God's throne, genius is girt about with 
 clouds and darkness. If great men are infre- 
 quent, the world's need of great men is as oc- 
 casional. Society advances in happiness and 
 culture, not through striking, dramatic acts, 
 but through myriads of unnumbered and un- 
 noticed deeds. 
 
 Even the heroes dying upon the battlefield 
 ask not for Plato nor Bacon, but for a cup of 
 cold water. To Benedict Arnold, dying in his 
 
 212 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 garret, came a physician, who said, ' ' Is there 
 anything you wish ?" and heard this answer: 
 "Only a friend." Traitors sometimes each of 
 us also. Traitors to our deepest convictions 
 and our highest ideals, and in the hours when 
 the fever of discontent burns fiercely within 
 us, and the mind seems half-delirious in its 
 trouble, we also ask for a friend bringing a 
 mite of sympathy and a cup of cold water. 
 Let us confess it — we are all famishing for love 
 and the kind word that says: -'In your 
 Gethsemane you are not alone." 
 
 God secures for us our happiness, not 
 through speech about the heavens and fii ma- 
 men t, but through the comfort that comes 
 through speech over little things. He feeds 
 the birds, adorns the lily, clothes the grass, 
 numbers man's troubles. He is the Shepherd 
 seeking the one sheep, the father waiting for 
 the lost son. His kingdom is a little leaven 
 working in the world's meal. His truth being 
 no larger than a grain of mustard-seed. 
 Above each little one bows some guardian 
 angel beholding the face of its heavenly 
 Father. And He who unites grains of sand 
 for making planets and rays of light for glori- 
 ous suns, and blades of grass for the solid 
 splendor of field and pasture and drops of 
 water for the ocean that blesses every conti- 
 
 213 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 nent with its dew and rain, teaches us also 
 that great principles will organize the little 
 words, little prayers, little aspirations and 
 little services into the full-orbed splendor of 
 an enduring character and an immortal fame 
 Happily none need journey far nor search 
 long for opportunities of humble fidelity Into 
 our midst come each year thousands of boys 
 who are strangers in the great city. Passing 
 along the streets these lonely lads behold each 
 horse having some friendly hand to care for it. 
 Yea! each sleek dog hath some owner's name 
 engraven on the collar for the neck. But for 
 the youth, weeks pass by, and no face lifts a 
 friendly smile; no hand is outstretched in 
 gentle kindness, and oft the thought is bitter: 
 "No man careth for my soul." The youth 
 who sits in the seat beside you asks only that 
 the leaflet be shared in brotherliness, and you 
 may lift upon the discouraged one a smile that 
 saith: "Once the battle went sore with me, 
 also, but be of good cheer, you shall over- 
 come." Such friendliness is the two mites 
 that buy enduring rembrance. For if each 
 must fight his own battles, face for himself 
 the spectres of doubt, and slay them ; if each 
 must be his own surgeon and draw the iron 
 from the soul, still sympathy is a precious 
 boon, and it is given to man to give the cup 
 
 214 
 
The Thunder of Silent Fidelity. 
 
 of tenderness to the warrior sorely wounded in 
 life's battle. In ancient times when men's 
 cabins were built on the edge of the wilder- 
 ness, not yet cleared of wild beasts, sometimes 
 the little ones wandered from the path and 
 were lost in the forest, until the cry of terror 
 revealed the awful danger that threatened 
 and caused the mother to speed forth, with 
 winged feet and lift her body as a shield 
 against the enemy. Daily these scenes are 
 re-enacted, not in songs and dramas, but 
 through the work of those who rescue the 
 city's children from squalor, filth and sin. 
 What redemptions man's little deeds do bring ! 
 For $30,000 Peter Faneuil bought immor- 
 tality and forever associated his name with 
 liberty. To-day that amount will erect the 
 social settlement in the needy quarter of some 
 city and give hundreds of young people oppor- 
 tunity and field for Bible-schools, kindergar- 
 tens, nursery, gymnasium, mothers' classes, 
 men's clubs, singing-schools and also associate 
 man s name with the happiness and civilization 
 of an entire community. Mammon will care 
 for the children of strength and good for- 
 tune, and fame will guard the sons of success; 
 let us guard the weak and lowly. In the 
 Roman triumph, when a general came home 
 with his spoils, many captives went with his 
 
 2I£ 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 chariot up to the capital. And happy 'twill 
 be for us if in the hour when the sunset gun 
 shall sound and we pass beyond the flood God's 
 little ones mourn us with tears of gratitude 
 while all the trumpets sound for us on the 
 other side 
 
 216 
 
Influence, and the Strategic Ele- 
 ment IN Opportunity. 
 
" And now, gentlemen, was this vast campaign fought with- 
 out a general ? If Trafalgar could not be won without the mind 
 ot a Nelson, or Waterloo without the mind of a Wellington, was 
 there no one mind to lead these innumerable armies, on whose 
 success depended the future of the whole human race ? Did no 
 one marshal them in that impregnable convex front, from the 
 Euxine to the North Sea ? No one guide them to the two 
 great strategic centres of the Blaqk Forest and Trieste } No one 
 cause them, blind barbarians without maps or science, to follow 
 those rules of war without which victory in a protracted struggle 
 is impossible : and by the pressure of the Huns behind, force on 
 their flagging myriads to an enterprise which their simplicity fan- 
 cied at flrst beyond the powers of mortal men ? Believe it who 
 will: I cannot. 
 
 ** But while I believe that not a stone or a handful of mud 
 gravitates into its place without the will of God ; that it was or- 
 dained, ages since, into what particular spot each grain of gold 
 should be washed down from an Australian quartz reef, that a cer- 
 tain man might find it at a certain moment and crisis of his life — 
 if I be superstitious enough (as thank God I am) to hold that 
 creed, shall I not believe that though this great war had no general 
 upon earth, it may have had a general in Heaven ; and that in 
 spite of all their sins the hosts of our forefathers were the hosts of 
 God ?'* — Charles Kingsley, 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Influence, and the Strategic Elt-mbnt 
 IN Opportunity. 
 
 The history of a Jewish battle includes a 
 dramatic incident. In the thick of the fight 
 an offlcer brought to one of his soldiers an im- 
 portant prisoner. "Keep thou this man," 
 said he, " with the utmost vigilance. Upon 
 his person hang the issues of this campaign. 
 His skill in leading the enemy, his courage and 
 treachery have cost our side many lives. If 
 by any means thou shalt suffer him to escape 
 thy life shall be for his life." 
 
 Then, straining more tightly the cords 
 knotted around the prisoner's hands and feet, 
 the ofBcer turned and plunged again into the 
 thick of the fight. From that moment the 
 soldier's one duty was to guard the prisoner 
 whose escape would work such havoc. 
 
 Strangely enough, he became negligent. 
 Careless, he leaned his bow and spear against 
 the tent. Hungry, he busied himself with 
 baking a few small cakes. Weary, he cast 
 himself upon the ground, dozing upon his 
 elbow. Suddenly a noise startled his nap. 
 He sprang up just in time to see his prisoner 
 
 219 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 make one leap, then disappear into the thicket. 
 
 A concealed knife had cut the thongs. Neg- 
 ligence had let "slip the dogs of war." That 
 night when the general returned to his tent he 
 found the prisoner had escaped. 
 
 Fronting his master the terror-stricken 
 soldier had no excuse to offer save this: 
 " While thy servant was busy here and there 
 the man was gone." Gone opportunity ! — and 
 lightning could not equal its swift flight. 
 Gone forever opportunity ! — and the wings of 
 seraphim could not overtake and bring itback. 
 Gone honor, gone fidelity, gone good name ! — 
 all lost irretrievably. For though dying be 
 long delayed, coming at last death would find 
 the soldier's task unfulfilled. From "It might 
 have been," and "It is too late," God save us 
 all ! For not Infinity himself can reverse the 
 wheel of events and bring back lost opportuni- 
 ties. 
 
 The genius of opportunity lies in its strategic 
 element. In every opportunity two or more 
 forces meet in such a way that the one force 
 so lends itself to the other as momentarily to 
 yield plasticity. Nature is full of these 
 strategic times. Iron passes into the furnace 
 cold and unyielding; coming out it quickly 
 cools and refuses the mold; but midway is a 
 moment when fire so lends itself to iron, and 
 
 220 
 
The Strategic Element in Opportunity. 
 
 iron so yields its force to flame as that the 
 metal flows like water. 
 
 This brief plastic moment is the inventor's 
 opportunity, when the metal will take on any 
 shape for use or beauty. Similarly the fields 
 offer a strategic time to the husbandman. 
 In February the soil refuses the plow, the sun 
 refuses heat, the sky refuses rain, the seed re- 
 fuses growth. In May comes an opportune 
 time when all forces conspire toward harvests ; 
 then the sun lends warmth, the clouds lend 
 rain, the air lends ardor, the soil lends juices. 
 Then must the sower go forth and sow, for 
 nature whispers that if he neglects June he 
 will starve in January. 
 
 The planets also lend interpretation to this 
 principle. Years ago our nation sent astrono- 
 mers to Africa to witness the transit of Venus. 
 Preparations began months beforehand. A 
 ship was fitted up, instruments packed, the 
 ocean crossed, a site selected and the tele- 
 scopes mounted. Scientists made all things 
 ready for that opportune time when the sun 
 and Venus and earth should all be in line. 
 That critical moment was very brief. In- 
 stinctively each astronomer knew that his eye 
 must be at the small end of the glass when the 
 planet went scudding by the large end. Once 
 the period of conjunction had passed no ma- 
 
 111 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 chinery would offer itself for turning the 
 planet back upon her axis. Not for astrono- 
 mers only are the opportune times brief. For 
 all men alike, failure is blindness to the 
 strategic element in events; success is readi- 
 ness for instant action when the opportune 
 moment arrives. When nature has fully 
 ripened an opportunity man must stretch out 
 his hand and pluck it. Inventions may be de- 
 fined as great minds detecting the strategic 
 moment in nature; Galileo finding a lens in 
 the ox's eye; Watt witnessing steam lift an 
 iron lid; Columbus observing an unknown 
 wood drifting upon the shore. To untold 
 multitudes nature offered these opportune mo- 
 ments for discovery, but only Galileo, Watt 
 and Columbus were ready to seize them. As 
 for the rest, this is our only answer to nature : 
 "While thy servant was busy here and there, 
 the strategic moment was gone. " 
 
 This majestic principle often appears in his- 
 tory. There is a strategy in Providence. 
 Nations, like individuals, have their crisis 
 hours. Through events God makes all society 
 plastic, and then raises up some great man to 
 stamp his image and superscription upon the 
 nation's hot and glowing heart. As scholars 
 move back along the pathway of history, they 
 discern in each great epoch these strategic 
 
 222 
 
The Strategic Element In Opportunity. 
 
 conditions. How opportune the moment when 
 Jesus Christ appeared ! 
 
 Alexander's march had scattered every- 
 whither the seeds of learning; the' Greek lan- 
 guage had turned the whole world into one 
 great whispering gallery, in which the nations 
 were assembled; all the provinces around the 
 Mediterranean were linked together by the 
 newly completed system of roads; the Roman 
 judge was in every town to set forth the 
 rights of citizens of the empire; the Roman 
 soldier was there to protect all who brought 
 messages of peace ; the long-expected hour had 
 struck. Then Christianity set forth from 
 Bethlehem upon its errand of love. Along 
 every highway ran the eager feet of the mes- 
 sengers of peace and good-will. Events were 
 fully ripe, and soon Christianity was upon the 
 throne of the Caesars. 
 
 How strategic that epoch called the fourth 
 century! He who sat in Caesar's palace looked 
 out upon a dying empire. The old race was 
 worn out with war and wine and wealth and 
 luxury. Civilization seemed about to perish, 
 and society was fast sinking back into barbar- 
 ism. To the north of the Alps were the forest 
 children, ruddy and robust, with their glorious 
 youth full upon them. These young giants 
 needed the dying language and literature and 
 
 223 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 religion, and these great institutions needed 
 their young, fresh blood. But between lay 
 the granite walls .builded from sea to sea. 
 Now mark what Charles Kingsley called "the 
 strategy of Providence." Suddenly a blind 
 impluse fell upon the forest children. Two 
 columns started southward. The one rested 
 upon the North Sea and marched southeast; 
 the other rested upon the Ural Mountains and 
 marched southwest; the two met and con- 
 verged upon Trieste. Without maps or 
 military tactics or plans, wholly ignorant that 
 Napoleon's favorite method of attack was be- 
 ing carried out by them, these two columns 
 converged toward the Alpine pass, and for ten 
 years pounded and pounded against the Roman 
 walls until these yielded and fell. Then the 
 forest children poured down into the vine- 
 yards and villages and cities of the dying 
 empire. Multitudeb remained to intermarry 
 and preserve the dying race. Other multi- 
 tudes returned to their old home to sow the 
 northern forests with those great ideas that 
 were to carry civilization through the long 
 night of the dark ages. 
 
 Another strategic hour came in the thir- 
 teenth century. Then all Europe was stirred 
 with new and awakening life. It was dawn 
 after darkness. Constantinople had fallen 
 
 224 
 
The Strategic Element in Opportunity; 
 
 and scholars laden yrith manuscripts went 
 forth to sow Europe with the new learning. 
 The times were fully ripe for another great 
 forward movement for society. Only one 
 thing was lacking — great men for leaders. In 
 that strategic crisis six leaders appeared. 
 God gave each wing of the army of civilization 
 a genius for its general. Copernicus over- 
 threw superstition and brought in science; 
 Luther gave religion, Gutenberg the printing- 
 press, Calvin individualism, Michael Angelo 
 art and the beautiful, Erasmus critical scholar- 
 ship; and because the old world was filled with 
 debris, and the new ideas needed room, Colum- 
 bus gave the new world, offering what Emerson 
 calls "the last opportunity of Providence for 
 the human race." Surely this was a strat- 
 egic moment in history, giving each citizen 
 unique opportunity. 
 
 The strategic element enters into the indi- 
 vidual career. Destiny is determined by our 
 use of our critical hours. It is as if life's 
 great issues were staked upon a single throw. 
 Not but that the forces we neglect are 
 permanent. It is that the strategic con- 
 dition has passed out of them. The 
 sluggard driving his plow into the field 
 in July has sun, soil and seed, but the torrid 
 summer refuses to perform the gentle pro- 
 
 225 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 cesses of April. The man who in youth's 
 strategic days denied to memory the great 
 facts of nature and history, in maturer years 
 still has his memory, but the plasticity has 
 gone. It now refuses to hold the facts he gives 
 it. The Latin poet interprets our principle by 
 the story of the maiden in the boat, holding 
 her hand in the water while she toyed 
 with a string of pearls until the string 
 snapped and the treasure sank into the abyss. 
 The miner interprets opportunity lost 
 through him who, for a rifle and a blanket, 
 traded a rich copper mine that has since paid 
 its owner millions. The historian interprets 
 it by Napoleon's bitter signal to his General, 
 tardy at Waterloo, "Too late I the critical 
 hour has passed. " Froude interprets it through 
 the old hero bitterly condemning himself over 
 his wife's grave, knowing that his wild love 
 and fierce outburst of affection were impotent 
 now to warm the heart that froze to death in 
 a home. 
 
 Ruskin interprets it through a nation that 
 allowed her noblest to descend into the grave, 
 garlanding the tombstone when they refused 
 to crown the brow; paying honors to ashes that 
 were denied to spirit; wreathing immortelles 
 only when they had no use save for laying on 
 a grave where was one dead of a broken heart 
 
 226 
 
The Strategic Element in Opportunity. 
 
 through a nation's ingratitude. Above all, 
 Jesus Christ interprets it at midnight in Geth- 
 semane, when he saw the torches fluttering in 
 the darkness, heard the clanking of sabers 
 and soldiers' armor, and in sad, reproachful 
 irony wakened his disciples with these words: 
 "Sleep on, now; sleep forever if you will ! 
 Henceforth no stress of your vigilance can 
 help me; no negligence of your duty can harm 
 me beyond the harm you have already wrought. 
 Take your ease now. Sleep; the opportunity 
 has gone." Then was the disciples' joy turned 
 into mourning, and for garments of praise did 
 they put on ashes and sackcloth. An irre- 
 parable loss was theirs. Yet for all of us each 
 neglected duty means a tragedy. It is always 
 now or never. The treasure wrapped up in 
 each strategic opportunity is of infinite value. 
 To-morrow can hold no joy when yesterday 
 holds this memory: "While I was busy here 
 and there my opportunity was gone. " 
 
 How strategic the period of youth ! Then 
 the chiefest forces of life flow together in sen- 
 sitive conjunction. Then four great gifts like 
 four great rivers unite in one majestic current 
 to bear up the young man's enterprises, and 
 sweep him on to fame and fortune. Oppor- 
 tune are all the days when health spills over 
 at the eye and ear and laughs through the 
 
 227 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 lips. Men worn out are like overshot wheels — 
 the life trickles and the buckets are filled 
 slowly by long rests and frequent vacations. 
 Young men are like undershot wheels — always, 
 by day and night, the water overflows the 
 banks. 
 
 Each morning the young soul wakens to the 
 supreme luxury of living. The world is a 
 great beaker brimmed with wine of the gods. 
 The truth and beauty of field and forest and 
 river give a pleasure that is exquisite to a 
 keenly sensitive and perfectly healthy youth. 
 Like an ^olian harp, the slightest breath 
 avails for wakening melody midst its strings. 
 But years multiply cares. Age increases 
 heaviness. Time destroys its own children. 
 The poet says : "In youth we carry the world 
 like Atlas; in maturity we stoop and bend be- 
 neath it; in age it crushes us to the ground." 
 For the overtaxed and invalided, the dew- 
 drops do not sparkle as diamonds; the wet 
 grass suggests red flannels and cough sirups. 
 For the nervous the bird's song is a meaning- 
 less chatter. For the sickly the clouds are 
 big black water-bottles, though time was when 
 they were chariots for God's angels, curtains 
 for hiding ministering spirits trooping home- 
 ward at night, leaving all the air sweetly per- 
 
 228 
 
The Strategic Element in Opportunity. 
 
 fumed. It is the body that grants the soul 
 permission to be happy. 
 
 To the opportunity offered by health may be 
 added the years lying in front of the young 
 heart like a great estate, as yet unincumbered. 
 Powerful enthusiams, too, are the inheritance 
 of youth. Noble feelings, fine aspirations 
 then pass through the mind, as in May the 
 perfumed winds from the South pass over the 
 fields. These motives beat upon the mind as 
 steam upon the iron piston. Workmen exca- 
 vating at Pompeii threw up soil that had been 
 covered for 1,800 years. Exposed to the sun, 
 young trees sprang up. Without the force of 
 light and heat and dew and rain these seeds 
 were dormant or dead. Thus each mind is a 
 dead mind until the full warmth of great im- 
 pulses quickens the dormant energies. The 
 hopes, the ambitions, the aspirations of youth 
 all conspire to make this a most strategic 
 period. Then all the forces of life unite m a 
 great gulf stream for bearing the soul up and 
 sweeping it forward to new climes and richer 
 shores. 
 
 Strategic the hour of prosperity. Men dis- 
 count the speech of poverty, but the rich 
 man's words weigh a ton each. It has been 
 said that the poor man's dollar is just as good 
 
 229 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 as the rich man's only when both are anony- 
 mous, for the dollar with a million behind it 
 will go further than the dollar with a thou- 
 sand behind it. This is a proverb: "A bid 
 from Rothschild electrifies the market." Each 
 new achievement and success builds higher the 
 tower of observation that lifts the great man 
 into the presence of the nation. All eyes are 
 upon the prospered individual, all ears are 
 alert to his whisper. Prosperity's voice is the 
 voice of an oracle; all her words are winged. 
 Every successful venture in the world of com- 
 merce or statecraft quadruples influence over 
 the nation's youth. This principle interprets 
 th^ curiosity of the boy in store or bank, ask- 
 ing a thousand questions about his successful 
 employer. It explains why the eager aspirant 
 for political influence searches all the journals 
 for some Tii^prd from Gladstone or Castelar 
 or Bismarfek.' A sentence from these great 
 champions lil^th suflBced for reversing the pol- 
 icy of a government. The memory of many 
 triumphs lies back of the great leader's words 
 and lends them weight.! 
 
 Success is an oratot; it charms multi- 
 tudes. Pull oft ' one who is a veritable 
 genius for making homely truths beau- 
 tiful has accomplished less for his age 
 than some prosperous man whose few stum- 
 
 230 ,^ 
 
The Strategic Element in Opportunity. 
 
 bling words have sufiBced for shaping national 
 policies and guiding his generation. All the 
 young are drawn into the wake of the success- 
 ful. "Wealth fulfills the story of Orpheus, whose 
 sweet voice made the very stones and trees 
 follow after him. Truly wealth is an evangelist, 
 the almoner of bounty toward college and 
 library and art gallery and liberty and re- 
 ligion. But its chief use is in this: It enables 
 its possessor to repeat his industry, integrity 
 and thrift in the children of a nation. All 
 youthful hearts do well to covet wealth, 
 wisdom and leverage power ! But man 
 should remember that the chief value of pros- 
 perity is in its capitalization of personality, and 
 the rendering of others sensitive to example 
 and precept. Should man forget this, earth 
 will hear no sadder cry than his when, clos- 
 ing the life career, he exclaims : ' ' While thy 
 servant was busy here and there the oppor- 
 tune moment was gone.' 
 
 Friendship yields these plastic moments and 
 unique opportunities. For the most part the 
 soul dwells in a castle locked and barred 
 against outsiders. No man can keep open- 
 house for every passer-by. But friendship is 
 an open sesame, drawing every bar and bolt. 
 How the heart leaps when the friend crosses 
 the threshold! His shadow always falls be- 
 
 231 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 hind him. His coming is summer in the soul; 
 his presence is peace. Friendship glorifies 
 everything it touches. When on a stormy 
 night our friend comes in he seems to warm 
 the very fire upon the hearth ; he sweetens the 
 sweet singer's voice; lends new meaning to 
 the wise man's words; gives reminiscence an 
 added charm; makes old stories new; makes 
 the laughter and smiles come twice as often 
 and stay twice as long. Friendship lies upon 
 the heart like a warm fire upon the hearth. 
 By reason of friendship history exhibits fevery 
 great man as leaving his school of thought 
 and a group of disciples behind him. His 
 spirit lingers with men long after his form has 
 disappeared from the streets, as the sun lin- 
 gers in the clouds after the day is done, as the 
 melody lingers in the ear long after the song 
 is sung. Longfellow, after a day and a night 
 with Emerson, literally emitted poems and 
 plays. He was stimulated by friendship as bees 
 by rose liquor and the sweet pea wine. Friend- 
 ship always makes the heart plastic. Then 
 the mental furrows are all open and mellow; 
 sympathy falls like dew and rain; then the 
 heart saith to its friend: "Here am I, all 
 plastic to your touch; work upon me your 
 will; for good or ill — I am thine." Therefore, 
 friendship imposes frightful responsibilities; 
 
 232 
 
The Strategic Element in Opportunity. 
 
 in asking and receiving it we assume charge 
 of another's destiny. This is the very genius 
 of the teacher's influence over his pupil, the 
 parent's over his child, the general's over his 
 soldier, the patriot's over his people. Better 
 a thousand times never open the furrow than 
 to leave it unfertilized. 
 
 How strategic life's better hours I One of 
 God's precious gifts is the luminous hour that 
 denies the lower animal mood. Mind is not 
 always at its best. Full oft our thought is 
 sodden and dull. Then duty seems a maze 
 without a clew and life's skeins all a tangle. 
 The mind is uneasy, confused and troubled. 
 Then men live to the eye and the ear and 
 physical comforts; they live for houses and 
 beautiful things in them; for shelves and rich 
 goods upon them; for factories and large 
 profits by them. Responsibility to God seems 
 like the faint shadow of a vaguely remembered 
 dream. The voice of conscience is in the ear 
 like the far-off murmuring of the sea. The 
 soul is sordid and the finer senses indurated. 
 The angel of the better nature is bondslave to 
 the worst. Then enters some element that 
 nurtures the nobler impulse. Some misfor- 
 tune, earthquake-like, cleaves through the 
 hard crust. Or some gentle event, like the 
 coming of an old friend or the returning to the 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 old homestead, stirs old memories and kindles 
 new thoughts. 
 
 Slowly the heart passes out of the penumbra. 
 The mind, too long obscured like a sun eclipsed 
 by clouds, searches out some rift. Suddenly 
 reason comes into the clear. God rises like 
 an untroubled sun upon the soul's horizon. 
 How crystalline life looks 1 The mind literally 
 exhales fancies and pictures, and each stick 
 and stone is as full of suggestions and ideas as 
 the forest is full of birds. Old problems be- 
 come clear as noonday. DiflQcult questions lie 
 clearly revealed before the mind like landscapes 
 from which the fogs are lifted. Once the 
 mind crawled tortoise-like through its work. 
 Now it soars like an eagle. The soul seems a 
 sweet-spiced shrub, and every leaf is per- 
 fumed. If in dull, obscure hours the soul was 
 like a wooden beehive drifted o'er with snow, 
 in its vision-hours the soul is like a glass hive 
 out of which the bees go singing into sweet 
 clover-fields. In these hours how unworthy 
 the material life I How insubstantial the 
 things of iron, wood and stone I Bodily things 
 seem evanescent, as frost pictures on the 
 window on a winter's morn. Then honor, in- 
 tegrity, kindness, generosity alone seem per- 
 manent and worth one's while. How easy 
 then to do right. All habits that fettered the 
 
 ^34 
 
The Strategic Element in Opportunity. 
 
 faculties like iron cuffs are now felt to be but 
 ice fetters, quickly melting. Then the nobler 
 self, using no whip of cords, looks upon mean- 
 ness and selfishness, and by a look drives them 
 from the heart and life. 
 
 Then years are fulfilled in a single hour. 
 Then from its judgment-seat the soul reviews 
 its past career, searches out secret sins and 
 scorns them. How unworthy are vanity and 
 pride and selfishness. In what garments of 
 beauty and attraction are truth and purity 
 clothed. The soul looks longingly unto the 
 heavenly heights, as desert, pilgrims long for 
 oases and springs of water. Unspeakably 
 precious are these strategic hours of oppor- 
 tunity. God sends them; divineness is in 
 them ; they cleanse and fertilize the soul ; they 
 are like the overflowing Nile. Men should 
 watch for them and lay out the life-course by 
 them, as captains ignore the clouds and head- 
 lands and steer by the stars for a long voy- 
 age and a distant harbor. 
 
 335 
 
Influence, and the Principle of Reac- 
 tion IN Life and Character. 
 
"So each man gets out of the world of men the rebound, the 
 increase and development of what he brings there. Three men 
 stand in the same field and look around them, and then they all 
 cry out together. One of them exclaims, ' How rich !* another 
 cries, ' How strange!' another cries, 'How beautiful!' And then 
 the three divide the field between them, and they build their 
 houses there ; and in a year you come back and see what answer 
 the same earth has made to each of her three questioners. They 
 have all talked ynth the ground on which they lived, and heard its 
 answers. They have all held out their several hands, and the 
 same ground has put its own glfb into each of them. What have 
 they got to show you ? One cries, ' Come here and see my barn;' 
 another cries, ' Come here and see my museum ;' the other says, 
 ' Let me read you my poem.' That is a picture of the way in 
 which a generation, or the race, takes the great earth and makes it 
 different things to all its children. With what measure we mete 
 to it, it measures to us again. This is the rebound of the hard 
 earth — sensitive and soft, although we call it hard, and feeling 
 with an instant keen discrimination the different touch of each 
 different human nature which is laid upon it. Reaction is equal 
 to action." — Phillips Bnoki. 
 
CHAPTEE XIL 
 
 Influence, and the Principle of Reac- 
 tion IN Life and Character. 
 
 To the mystery of life and death must be 
 added the mystery of growth. When Demos- 
 thenes exclaimed: "Yesterday I was not 
 here; I shall not be here to-morrow; to-day I 
 am here," he suggested a hard problem. Hav- 
 ing solved the enigma, what went before life, 
 and answered that mystery, what follows after 
 death, there still remains this question: "How 
 can a babe in twenty years take on the pro- 
 portions of the great orator and reformer?" 
 Rocks do not grow, nor diamonds, nor dirt, 
 but a shrunken bulb does become a lily, and a 
 tiny seed a mustard tree. In vain does the 
 scientist struggle with this problem — how an 
 acorn can expand into an oak ; how in a single 
 summer a grain of corn can ripen a thousand 
 grains, like that from which the cornstalk 
 sprang. 
 
 Men are indeed familiar with the bursting 
 of buds, the cracking of eggs and the growth 
 of children; yet familiarity robs these facts of 
 no whit of their mystery. No jeweler ever 
 goes into the field with a basket of watches to 
 
 239 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 plant them in rows, expecting when autumn 
 hath come to pick two or three wagon-loads of 
 stem-winders from iron branches; yet, were 
 this possible, it would be no more strange 
 than that in the autumn the husbandman 
 should stand under the branches to fill his 
 basket with peaches or bunches of figs. For 
 wise men it is no more difiicult to think of a 
 growing engine than of a growing oak. What 
 if to-morrow an engineer should plant a can- 
 non ball. Having watered it well and kept 
 the ground loose through hoe or spade, sup- 
 pose that when a few weeks have passed the 
 outline of a smokestack should push through 
 the soil, to be followed a little later by a 
 rudimentary steam whistle, the outlines of a 
 boiler, and, rising through the sod, rude drive- 
 wheels, piston-rods and cylinders, until after 
 six months the great, engine should stand 
 forth in full completion. This phenomenon 
 would be no more wonderful than that which 
 actually goes on before man's blind eyes, when 
 a tiny seed enlarges into the big tree of Cali- 
 fornia and constructs a vegetable engine that 
 lifts thousands of hogsheads of water up to 
 the topmost boughs without any rattle of 
 chains or the din of machinery. 
 
 With difiSculty man constructs that musical 
 instrument called a mouthharp, but nature, in 
 
 240 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 six weeks, out of a little blue or brown egg 
 constructs a feathered music-box that auto- 
 matically conveys itself from tree to tree. 
 But the mystery that has gone on. in that 
 tiny blue egg lying in the nest is just as great 
 as if some housewife had planted an old spin- 
 ning-wheel in the full expectation of reaping 
 a Jacquard loom, or had buried a jew's-harp in 
 the garden expecting in the fall to pick a 
 grand piano. To the mystery that is involved 
 in enlargement by growth must be added the 
 mystery of intelligence. It is not an easy 
 thing for an expert housewife, using the same 
 formula, always to achieve the same happy 
 results in the white loaf. He who plants 
 a strawberry seed will find that the tiny seed 
 will construct a plant, lay in the red tints ac- 
 cording to rule and mix the flavor of the berry 
 to a nicety that is the despair of the chef. In 
 the tropic forests there is a flower with a deep 
 cup and the pollen at the bottom. This pollen 
 lies upon a little platter, and underneath the 
 platter is that form of trap known as a figure 
 four, much loved by boys. When the bee, 
 creeping down into the flower, touches that 
 platter, it springs the trap that throws the 
 fertilizing pollen upon the legs of the bee, to 
 be conveyed to the next flower. Wise men can, 
 indeed, imitate this device, but a single seed 
 
 241 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 will in a few montlis construct many scores of 
 these mechanical devices. To-morrow morn- 
 ing the embryologist in his laboratory will 
 place an egg under a glass cylinder in an 
 atmosphere of 98 degrees. Four hours pass 
 and STiddenly the scientist perceives an atom 
 in the heart of that egg give a quick lashing 
 movement. Another moment witnesses two 
 quick throbs. Growth has begun and in four 
 months' time the young eagle with firm 
 strokes will lift itself into the soft air. From 
 the chamber of life and the chamber of death 
 God hath never drawn the curtains. The 
 chamber of growth is another most holy place 
 in which God alone doth stand. 
 
 Deeply impressed by the fact of growth, 
 scientists have also marveled at the principle 
 that controls the harvest. Rocks enlarge by 
 accretion, but from what a rock is at the be- 
 ginning, the geologists cannot tell what will 
 be the shape of that rock when all deposits are 
 finally made. As to growth in seed and 
 shrub, like produces like. He who sows wheat 
 reaps wheat, not tares. He who plants a 
 grape receives a purple cluster, not a bunch 
 of thorns or thistles. He who sows honor shall 
 reap confidence. He who sows frankness shall 
 reap openness. No Peabody sowing industry 
 and thrift reaps the harvest of indolence and 
 
 242 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 idleness. Theodore Parker, loving knowledge 
 and for it denying himself sleep and exercise, 
 reaped wisdom, and also wan and hollow 
 cheeks, while the iron frame and ruddy cheek 
 are for the child of the woods who loves exer- 
 cise in the open air. He who aspires to 
 leadership and would have the multitude cheer 
 his name; he who longs for the day when his 
 appearance upon the street shall mean an ova- 
 tioa from the people, must make himself the 
 people's slave, defy all demagogues, brave the 
 fury of party strife, oft be execrated by poli- 
 ticians and sometimes be hated by the multi- 
 tude. Having sown self-sacrifice and love, he 
 shall reap fame and adulation. For nature's 
 law is universal and inexorable — ^like produces 
 like. The sheaf is simply the seed enlarged 
 and multiplied. The sowing contains the 
 germ of all the harvests to be reaped. 
 
 The new biography of Benedict Arnold tells 
 us of the despair of the traitor's final days, 
 the remorse that gnawed his heart, the agony 
 that filled his life. Yet no arbitrary degree 
 was imposed upon Arnold. He plotted the 
 surrender of the interests committed to him 
 as a general, planned the stratagem that 
 ended in the capture and execution of Andre, 
 and received $30,000 in gold for his treachery. 
 Having gone over to the enemy, he placed 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 himself at the head of a band of English troops 
 and went forth to destroy the towns and vil- 
 lages of his boyhood and pillaged the homes of 
 his old friends. He sowed avarice, and of 
 avarice he reaped $30,000. He sowed distrust 
 in America; he reaped distrust from the Eng- 
 lishmen who had bought his honor. He sowed 
 treason; he reaped infamy. He sowed con- 
 tempt for the colonists, and, dying, he reaped 
 the contempt from his old friends, who counted 
 his body carrion. For the harvests of the soul 
 represent not arbitrary degrees, but the work- 
 ings of natural law. If Ceres, the goddess of 
 harvests, makes the sheaf to reap the seed, 
 conscience, recalling man's career, ordains that 
 like produces like. "What a man soweth that 
 shall he also reap is the law of nature and of 
 God. 
 
 The heroes of the Old Testament are com- 
 mon people capitalized. What is unique in 
 the experience of these sons of greatness holds 
 true of all of lesser rank. The career of one 
 of these giants is a pictorial exhibition of this 
 principle of the spiritual harvest. Young 
 Jacob was shrewd, crafty and full of foresight. 
 If Esau, his brother, was a "hail fellow well 
 met," the child of his impulses, Jacob was a 
 diplomat and very wily. One day, when the 
 father, Isaac, was blind and old, Esau grew 
 
 244 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 restless, and at last went away with his com- 
 panions, for he dearly loved to hunt. In that 
 hour ambition tempted Jacob and avarice led 
 him away. Advantaging himself of his broth- 
 er's absence, Jacob used the skin of a kid to 
 make his hand's hairy, like the hands of Esau, 
 and, simulating the brother's voice, he ex- 
 torted from his dying father those tokens that, 
 according to the Eastern custom, made him 
 the successor to his father's title, wealth and 
 power. Full twoscore years passed swiftly 
 by and the deceit seems to have brought in 
 large money returns to crafty Jacob. 
 
 But silently nature was working out the 
 harvest of retribution, through that law of 
 heredity that makes sons repeat the qualities of 
 their father. When Jacob was now advanced in 
 years his ten sons began to develop craftiness, 
 and soon they plowed great furrows of care in 
 the father's face. In those days of care his 
 young son Joseph stole into Jacob's heart like 
 a sweet sunbeam, and, with his open, loving 
 ways, filled his father's heart with gladness. 
 When the elder brothers knew Jacob had given 
 Joseph a coat of many colors they remembered 
 the craft of their father in his early career. 
 One evening, when the ■ herds and flocks were 
 scattered widely over the hills, Simeon sent 
 out messengers and called his brothers to- 
 
 245 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 gether for a conference. In that hour he said: 
 "Wist ye not how our father, being a younger 
 son, supplanted his elder brother, Esau? And 
 behold his craft will now make his younger 
 child, Joseph, to supplant his elder brothers'! 
 Do ye not remember how our father, Jacob, 
 took a kid and made his hands like unto the 
 hands of Esau? Let us now take a kid and 
 make its blood represent the blood and death 
 of Joseph. What Jacob did for his father, 
 Isaac, let his sons do to their father, Jacob." 
 Thus, with subtle irony, nature made the 
 man's sins to come back to him. A boy, Jacob 
 deceived his father; now, grown gray and old, 
 his boys brought their father an armful of de- 
 ceits. In that hour when Eeuben and Simeon 
 held up the coat of many colors, all red with 
 blood, great nature might have whispered to 
 Jacob: "It is the blood of the kid that you 
 slew for deceiving your father returning to 
 enable your sons to deceive you." For, hav- 
 ing sowed deceit, deceit also and stratagem 
 Jacob reaped. Himself a son, he thrust a dart 
 into his father's heart. Become a father, his 
 ten sons became archers, skilled with darts 
 that filled their father's heart with agony. 
 For nature loves justice; her rule is law; 
 sometimes her rod is iron. 
 
 The principle that every deed is a seed that 
 
 246 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 contains the germ of its own reward or pun- 
 ishment has received full interpretation by the 
 poets and dramatists. In his "Paradise 
 Lost," Milton has made a detailed study of the 
 principles of the spiritual harvests. The poet 
 represents Satan as an. angel, fallen indeed, 
 and sadly battered by his fall, yet still an 
 archangel glorious for strength and beauty. 
 Having visited Paradise and accomplished the 
 destruction of Eve's innocence and Adam's 
 happiness, Satan returns home, passing over 
 a bridge of more prodigious length than now 
 arches the gulf between earth and hell. When 
 the prince arrived at Pandemonium, the capital 
 of Lucifer's realm, he found that the leaders 
 of the fallen host had arranged a reception in 
 the great banquet-hall of the palace. In the 
 presence of the applauding throng, the prince 
 told the story of how he had succeeded in 
 opening the earth as a place to which these 
 exiled angels might retreat from the prison in 
 which they had been so long confined, and 
 pointed to the great bridge spanning the 
 abyss 'twixt earth and hell. When the loud 
 cheerings and rejoicings over this fact had 
 ceased, Satan told by what stratagem he had 
 succeeded in inducing man to break friendship 
 with God. It was not by disguising himself 
 as an angel of light. But, affirmed Satan, 
 
 247 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 man cared so little for the laws of God that, 
 although disguised as a serpent, he induced 
 man to sin. 
 
 "Then awhile Satan stood, expecting their universal 
 shout and high applause 
 
 To fill his ear, when contrary he bears 
 On all sides from innumerable tongues 
 
 A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
 Of public scorn. He wondered, but not long 
 
 Had leisure. Wondering at himself no more, 
 His visage drawn, he felt; too sharp and spare 
 
 His arms clung to his ribs, his legs entwining 
 Each the other, till supplanted down he fell, 
 
 A monstrous serpent on his belly prone, 
 Reluctant, but in vain. A greater power 
 
 Now ruled him, punished in the shape he sinned. 
 According to his doom." 
 
 Also when Satan attempted to speak, Milton 
 says, only a hiss went forth "from forked 
 tongue to forked tongue." When many days 
 had passed by and their hunger was very sore 
 because these fallen angels had seduced man 
 by an apple, it came about that when, fierce 
 with hunger, they seized the fruit ripe upon 
 the branches, the apples were found to be 
 filled with soot and ashes. By these striking 
 suggestions Milton gives us his idea how 
 angels and men reap what they sow. Should 
 the literary critic seek an appropriate heading 
 for the tenth book of "Paradise Lost," he 
 could hardly find one more appropriate than 
 
 248 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 this: "What Man Soweth, That Shall He 
 Also Reap." 
 
 This law of the spiritual harvest that visits 
 retribution upon unrighteousness or visits re- 
 ward upon integrity seems to have cast a spell 
 of fascination upon all great writers. Even 
 those who have written upon liberty, law, 
 patriotism, or love have not been content to 
 end their task until they have, through song 
 or story, illustrated this law of the soul's 
 seedtime and harvest. The ancient poet who 
 wrote at a time near to the dawn of history 
 makes a strong man go forth to seize his 
 neighbor's flocks and herds, but returning the 
 prince found that in his absence enemies had 
 looted his palace and carried off not only his 
 treasure, but his wife and children. In ending 
 the tale the writer adds the reflection that 
 "God is just!" 
 
 Later on the Grecian threw this moral prin- 
 ciple into a tale for children, a story that still 
 lives under the title "Baucis and Philemon." 
 One day two travelers entered a village, but 
 as they drew near, each housewife slammed 
 her door, while rude boys threw clods at the 
 wayfarers and let loose their dogs, who 
 snapped and snarled after the travelers. Pass- 
 ing quite beyond the village the pilgrims came 
 to a humble cottage. As they approached his 
 
 249 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 door Philemon came forth to offer refuge, and 
 apologized for the rudeness of his neighbors. 
 The old man prepared for them seats in the 
 grateful shade and hurried to bring them fresh 
 water from the cool spring. Baucis also has- 
 tened to bring the loaf, with her one small 
 honeycomb and her pitcher of milk. When 
 the glasses were filled twice and thrice and 
 still the rich milk failed not, the old housewife 
 marveled, until she found that in the bottom 
 of the pitcher there was a fountain from which 
 the rich milk gushed so long as it was needed. . 
 Nor did the honeycomb fail, nor did the sharp 
 knife make the wheaten loaf to be less. Hav- 
 ing told us that the morning brought disaster 
 to the inhospitable villagers, but brought 
 assurance from these angels who had been 
 entertained unawares that Baucis and Phile- 
 mon should never more want for earthly goods, 
 the writer of the olden times sets forth for us 
 the principle that good man and bad alike 
 reap what they sow, since each deed contains 
 a harvest like unto itself. Indeed, literature 
 and life teem with exhibitions of this principle. 
 Haman, the rich ruler, builds a gallows for 
 poor Mordecai, whom he hates, and later on 
 Haman himself is hanged upon his own scaffold. 
 David sets Uriah in the front of the battle and 
 robs him of his wife, and when a few years 
 
 250 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 have passed, in turn David is robbed of his 
 wife, his palace also, and his city. 
 
 Walter Scott believes in moral retribution. 
 He tells us of a youth who deftly split an 
 arrow at the point where it fitted the bow- 
 string, that when his brother, whom he hated, 
 should bend his bow the arrow might split 
 and, rebounding, pass through his eye. Now 
 it happened that the brother returned from 
 the hunt without using his weapon. That 
 night, alarmed at a commotion without, the 
 youth seized his bow, and, chancing to strike 
 upon that very arrow, was himself slain by 
 the stratagem that he bad wickedly planned 
 for his brother. George Eliot, too, has dedi- 
 cated her greatest volume to the study of this 
 principle. The orphan child, Tito, is received 
 into the arms of an adopted father, who lav- 
 ishes upon him all his wealth. But when the 
 youth was grown to full strength and beauty, 
 one night Tito left his adopted father in slavery 
 and fled with his gold and gems into a foreign 
 land. Years passed by and, with his stolen 
 wealth, Tito bought wife, palace, position, 
 fame. He had sown falsehood and cruelty, and 
 nothing seemed so unlikely as that he would 
 reap a similar harvest. But one day the peo- 
 ple discovered his falsehood and attacked Tito. 
 A mob pursued him through the streets, and, 
 
 251 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 knowing his strength as a swimmer, the youth 
 cast himself into the River Arno. When Tito 
 had swum far down the river to the other side, 
 and, in his exhaustion, would go ashore, he 
 looked up, and, lo! he discerned the gray- 
 haired father whom he had injured trotting 
 along the shore side by side with the swimmer. 
 In the old man's eyes blazed bitter hatred, in 
 his hand flashed a sharp knife. What the 
 youth had sown years before now at last he 
 was to reap. When increasing weakness com- 
 pelled him to approach the shore he looked 
 beseechingly to his father for mercy, but found 
 only justice. With a wild and bitter cry Tito 
 reaped his harvest. Soon the mud of that 
 river filled the eyes and ears of him who years 
 before had received defilement into his heart. 
 What seed he had sown, that Nature gave him 
 as a harvest — good measure, heaped up, and 
 shaken together. 
 
 History permits no ipan to escape the reflec- 
 tion that if, for the time being, individuals 
 have escaped this moral law, nations have felt 
 its full force. Nature does, indeed, walk 
 through the fields with footsteps so gentle as 
 to disturb no drop of dew hanging upon the 
 blade of grass. Nature also hath her sterner 
 aspect, and for the sons of iniquity her foot- 
 steps are earthquakes, her strokes are strokes 
 
 25a 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 of war and of pestilence. When Sophocles 
 worked out the law of moral retribution for 
 King CEdipus and Antigone, his daughter, the 
 poet might well have gone on to note that if 
 the Grecian army had sacked the Trojan cities 
 the time would come when the Roman fleet 
 would sack her cities and make her sons to toil 
 as captives. Later on, if the Roman con- 
 querors swept the East for corn and wheat, 
 looted stores and shops, pillaged palaces for 
 treasure for triumphal processions, the time 
 came when Nature and God decreed that the 
 vast wealth piled up in the Roman capital 
 should excite the cupidity of the Goths, until 
 at last the streets of that great city were 
 swept with flame and store-houses were 
 pillaged by marauders. In reviewing the his- 
 tory of Venice Ruskin was so impressed with 
 this principle of the moral harvest that he 
 affirms that the history of palace and cathedral, 
 of fleets and navies, is simply the story, writ- 
 ten by a pen dipped in fire and blood, of how the 
 children reaped what the fathers had sown. 
 
 For many months past the statesmen of 
 England have been sending forth discussions 
 reviewing the career of their country. In the 
 light of the Eastern problem one of these 
 authors reflects that whenever England has 
 sown injustice to a weaker nation she has 
 
 ^53 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 reaped injustice and retribution for herself. 
 He notes that in the last century the gov- 
 ernors of England — fbr example, Lord Hast- 
 ings — went through the land robbing rajahs, 
 despoiling the people by false weights and 
 measures, until they had turned the whole 
 country into one vast desert. The hour came 
 when before the House of Commons Burke im- 
 peached Hastings for high crimes and mis- 
 demeanors, as the enemy of India and England 
 and all men. But England was content to 
 impose a trifling fine upon her wicked oflflcial. 
 How could she give up the treasure she had 
 filched for herself? Years passed and an in- 
 jured people brooded upon its wrongs, and the 
 time came when what England had sown in 
 tears she reaped in blood. One day the Indian 
 soldiers mutined. The next day the wells 
 were filled with the bodies of English officers, 
 their wives and children; then merchants and 
 missionaries and travelers were slaughtered. 
 For weeks the strife went on. If once the 
 English soldier had pillaged the Indian vil- 
 lages, now, in turn, the English quarters 
 were pillaged. "Blind of eye and hard 
 of heart," said the sage statesman. " Ret- 
 ribution bath been visited upon us," said 
 the great leader. "Our jealousy and greed 
 hath ended with that sword being sharp- 
 
 254 
 
The Principle of Reaction in Life. 
 
 ened against ourselves." The note of convic- 
 tion is in the voice of this statesman, but what 
 saith he save this : ' ' What a man soweth, that 
 also shall he reap I" 
 
 All young hearts may well remember that it 
 is safe to do right, but dangerous to sow 
 wrong I No matter how smooth, how soft and 
 sweet, seem the paths of sin, know that be- 
 neath every flower there lurks a spider, be- 
 neath every silken couch of indulgence there 
 broods a nest of serpents, and the scene that 
 begins with flowers shall end midst thorns and 
 thickets. For the moment, indeed, the judge 
 may seem unobservant and the watchman may 
 seem asleep; but he who yields to any deflec- 
 tion from honor shall find at last that God 
 never slumbers, that his laws never sleep. Go 
 east or go west. Nature is upon the track of 
 the wrong-doer. Could the sage of old sit 
 down to converse with each youth who to-day 
 walks on the street, perchance he would find 
 many who, through excess, are draining away 
 the rich forces of nerve and brain and blood. 
 
 Daily they deny reason its book, taste its 
 music, love its noble companionship. At last, 
 when the harp of the physical senses begins to 
 give way, and they fall back upon the mental 
 faculties for pleasure, then these faculties that 
 have been starved shall, in turn, make men 
 
 255 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 suffer. In that hour reason or memory shall 
 say: "Because I called and ye refused; be- 
 cause I stretched out my hand and no man re- 
 garded, therefore I will laugh at your calam- 
 ity. I will mock at your desolation when your 
 fear cometh as destruction and your desolation 
 as whirlwind." In Daniel Webster's words of 
 disappointed ambition, "I still live," we see 
 that a statesman sows what he reaps. In 
 Goethe's fearful cry for ' ' more light " we see 
 that the poet who sows darkness shall reap 
 darkness. In Lord Byron's piteous "I must 
 sleep now " we see that he who sows morbid- 
 ness and passion reaps feverishness and shame. 
 The law is inexorable. He who sows foul 
 thoughts shall reap the foul countenance of a 
 fiend. He who sows pure thoughts shall reap 
 the sweetness and nobility of the face of Fra 
 Angelico. He who sows reflection shall reap 
 wisdom. He who sows sympathy shall reap 
 love. The good Samaritan who sows tender- 
 ness to the man wounded by the wayside shall 
 reap tenderness when angels stoop to bind up 
 his broken heart. 
 
 256 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
"Love is the fulfilling of the law."— itomdfu xiii, lO. 
 
 " Men may die without any opinions, and yet be carried inco 
 Abraham's bosom ; but if we be without love, what will knowl- 
 edge avail ? I will not quarrel with you about opinions. Only 
 see that your heart be right with God. I am sick of opinions. 
 Give me good and substantial religion, a humble, gentle love of 
 God and man.'* — John Weiley, 
 
 'Therefore, come what may, hold fast to love. Though 
 men should rend your heart, let them not embitter or harden it. 
 We win by tenderness, we conquer by forgiveness. O, strive to 
 enter into something of that large celestial charity which is meek, 
 enduring, unretaliating, and which even the overbearing world 
 cannot withstand forever ! Learn the new commandment of the 
 Son of God. Not to love merely, but to love as He loved. Go 
 forth in this Spirit to your life duties ; go forth, children of the 
 Cross, to carry everytliing before you, and win victories for God by 
 the conquering power of a love like his." — Frederick W, Rob- 
 ertson. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 The purpose of Christ's mission to earth 
 was the development of ideal manhood. The 
 instruments he fashioned and the agents he 
 ordained all wrought unceasingly toward a 
 manhood that was ample in faculty, fertile in 
 resource and ripe in those qualities that make 
 for maturity of character. He sought to teach 
 men how to carry their faculties through all 
 the strife, collisions and rivalries of life, with- 
 out damaging men or being damaged by them. 
 
 Always to the children of good fortune right 
 living has seemed easy, for these live midst 
 sheltered conditions and exhibit goodness as 
 naturally as the sheltered southern nooks have 
 grass and flowers when all the northern hillsides 
 are brown with death or white with snow. 
 But Christ came teaching the children of 
 weakness and misfortune how to bear up midst 
 adversity, how to singsongs at midnight and 
 how, through defeat, to march to final victory. 
 So beautiful was the manhood he unveiled be- 
 fore men that, beholding it, men low and men 
 high, the publican and prodigal, the centurion 
 
 259 » 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 and ruler also, quivered with hope, as the harp 
 quivers under the touch of the harper. 
 
 For his ideal includes every quality that 
 kindles admiration and delight; all gentleness, 
 all goodness, all simplicity, the refinement of 
 the scholar, the insight of the seer, the cour- 
 age that makes the youth a hero. In luminous 
 hours men behold visions of ideal perfection 
 hanging like stars in a midnight sky. Unfor- 
 tunately for many, these visions burst like 
 bubbles and soon pass away. Artists and 
 sculptors look forward to an hour when, by a 
 touch here and a touch there, the statue shall 
 be perfected and the portrait completed; so 
 Christ pointed forward to an hour when, hav- 
 ing been wrought upon by darkness and by 
 light, by defeat and by victory, by sorrow and 
 by joy, at last wisdom shall be made perfect, 
 judgment know no error, love have full dis- 
 closure and the soul enter into unhindered 
 perfection. 
 
 Great are the achievements of the chisel 
 upon the block of marble, marvelous the skill 
 with which a master turns a dead canvas into 
 lustrous life and beauty. Matchless the power 
 that turns a clod into a rosy apple, a seed into 
 a sheaf of wheat, a babe Into a sage; yet 
 neither nature nor art knows any transforma- 
 
 260 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 tion like unto that wonder of time when, by 
 slow processes, God develops man out of rude 
 and low conditions of life unto those high and 
 spiritual moods when selfishness gives place 
 to self-sacrifice, coarseness to sweetness, hard- 
 ness to gentleness and love, and perfection 
 dwells in man as ripeness dwells in fruit, as 
 maturity dwells in harvests. 
 
 The mainspring of all progress, individual 
 and social, is the desire to fulfill in character 
 all one has planned in thought. Man's life is 
 one long pursuit of the visions of possible ex- 
 cellence which disquiet, rebuke and tempt 
 him upward. "As to other points," said 
 John Milton, " what God may have determined 
 for me I know not, but this I know — that if 
 he ever instilled an intense love of moral 
 beauty into the breast of any man, he has in- 
 stilled it into mine. Ceres, in the fable, pur- 
 sued not her daughter with a greater keen- 
 ness of inquiry than I, day and night, the idea 
 of perfection." Haunted by his dream of ex- 
 cellence, the poet likened himself to one born 
 beside the throne and reared in purple, yet by 
 some mischance left to gypsies, midst poverty 
 and neglect, while thoughts of the glory he 
 has known and that imperial palace whence 
 ne came, are never out of mind. In picturing 
 
 261 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 forth these conceptions of sweetness and light, 
 philosophers have found it hard to summarize 
 the qualities that make up ideal manhood. 
 
 Conceding that the Christian is the perfect 
 gentleman, who does for his fellows what an 
 easy chair does for a tired man, what a winter's 
 fire is to a lost traveler, we may also aflBrm 
 that Newman's definition is inadequate and 
 fragmentary. As the ideal portraits of Christ, 
 from Perugino to Hoffman, divide the kingdom 
 of beauty — and must be united in one new 
 conception in Order to approach the perfect 
 face — so the poets and the philosophers, with 
 their diverse conceptions of ideal manhood, 
 divide the kingdom of character. "The true 
 man cannot be a fragmentary man," said Plato. 
 Is he not one-sided who masters the conven- 
 tional refinement and the stock proprieties, 
 yet indulges in drunkenness and gluttony? 
 "Pleasure must not be his sole aim," said the 
 accomplished Chesterfield. "I have enjoyed 
 all the pleasures of the world, and conse- 
 quently know their futility, and do not regret 
 their loss. Those who have no experience are 
 dazzled with there glare, but I have been be- 
 hind the scenes and have seen all the coarse 
 pulleys, which exhibit and move all the gaudy 
 machines that excite the admiration of the 
 ignorant audience. " 
 
 262 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 Nor is scholarship enough. From Solomon 
 to Burke, the wisest men have been the sad- 
 dest of men. The Scottish physician who 
 ordered his secretary to select from his library 
 all the books upon medicine and surgery that 
 were printed prior to 1880 and sell them, tells 
 us how futile is the pursuit of wisdom and 
 how rapidly the systems of to-day become the 
 cast-off garments of to-morrow. Nor must 
 the perfect man represent power and wealth 
 alone, for "the wealth of Croesus cannot bring 
 sleep to the sick man tossing upon his silken 
 couch, and all the Alexanders and Napoleons 
 have shed bitter tears, conquering or con- 
 quered." He who is merchant or scholar or 
 ruler, and only that, climbs his pillar like 
 Simeon Stylites. 
 
 All such know not that the world itself is a 
 pillar all too small for the soul to stand upon. 
 This life-chase after bubbles, this fighting for 
 trifles, this pursuit of false grails, reminds us 
 of the story of that Grecian boy lured to his 
 death by the enchantress. Going into the 
 palace garden to pluck a rose, the youth be- 
 held the form of a young girl standing in the 
 edge of the glimmering woods. With soft 
 words and sweet, she called him. Forgetting 
 his dear ones in the palace, the youth ran 
 after his enchantress. Along a pathway oi 
 
 263 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 flowers she danced before him, sometimes 
 sweeping the strings of her harp, sometimes 
 singing, and shaking her curls at his haste, 
 ever shooting arrows from her eyes, yet ever 
 just eluding his embrace. On and on she led 
 him into the bog, that covered his garments 
 with mud, through the thorns and brambles 
 that tore his white skin, over rocks steep and 
 sharp. Ever and anon the youth stopped to 
 pluck the thorns from his hands and bind up 
 his bleeding feet; then, gathering his torn 
 purple about him, he plunged on, in the hope 
 of drinking at last the sweet cup of her sor- 
 cery. When, at the end of the day, the desire 
 of his heart was given him, the illusion fell 
 away, for the youth embraced not a beautiful 
 maiden, but an old hag, who had led him into 
 the desert to a hut whose stones were dark- 
 ness and whose walls were confusion. 
 
 As the term genius includes all those forms 
 of culture termed poetry, music, eloquence, 
 leadership, so love is a term that includes all 
 those shapes of human welfare known as edu- 
 cation, refinement, liberty, happiness. Prop- 
 erly defined, love is that exalted state of mind 
 and heart when reason is luminous, when 
 judgment and imagination glow under its in- 
 fluence just as the electric bulb glows under 
 the living current. There are three possible 
 
 264 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 states and moods under which the mind may 
 fulfill its functions. There is a dull and qui- 
 escent condition when reason and judgment 
 act, but act without fervor. Power is there, 
 but it is latent, just as heat is in the un- 
 kindled wood lying on the grate, but the heat 
 is hidden. 
 
 Then there is a higher mood of the mind, 
 when, under the influence of conversation or 
 reading, the mind emits jets and flashes of 
 thought, through witticism or story; but this 
 creative mood is intermittent and spasmodic. 
 Last of all is that exalted mood when the 
 mind glows and throbs, when reason emits 
 thoughts, as stars blaze light; when the nim- 
 bus that overarches the brows of saints in 
 ancient pictures literally represents the efful- 
 gence of the mind. Work done in the lower 
 moods is called mediocre; work done by the 
 mind in the second stage is associated with 
 talent, but when, through birth or ancestry, 
 the mind works ever in regnant and supernal 
 moods, it is called genius. Affirming that all 
 minds rise into this higher mood at intervals, 
 we may also affirm that all the best work 
 in literature or art or commerce has been 
 wrought during these exalted states when 
 love for the work in hand has rendered the 
 mind luminous and crystalline. 
 
 265 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 It was love of nature that lent Wordsworth 
 his power to divine nature's secret. When the 
 poet approached Chamouni and the mountains 
 that gird it round he tells us he was conscious 
 of a shivering from head to foot, with mingled 
 awe and fear; his mind glowed with an inde- 
 scribable pleasure; his body thrilled as if in 
 the presence of a disembodied spirit; his heart 
 approached nature with an intensity of joy 
 comparable only to that joy which Dante felt 
 when approaching Beatrice. But when the 
 cares of this world gained upon him and the 
 love of nature faded gradually away in the 
 manner described by him in his " Intimations 
 of Immortality," then also his power to de- 
 scribe nature faded away. For only when the 
 heart loves can intellect do great work. 
 
 His biographer tells us that when Angelo 
 grew old and blind he was accustomed to ask 
 his servant to lead him to the torso of Phidias. 
 Passing his hands slowly over the broken 
 marble, the sculptor entered into the thought 
 of the great Grecian, and with love for his art 
 glowing in his face and thrilling in his voice, 
 he mused aloud upon the genius of Phidias. 
 Love of his art made all his days bright 
 and all his moons honeymoons. When Wyatt 
 Eaton, the artist, was in Millet's home he 
 noticed that when the wife called the artist 
 
 266 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 from his task to his noondaiy meal, the artist's 
 whole being had so gathered itself into the 
 eye that there was no life left with which to 
 hear. Love lent genius skill. No other senti- 
 ment is so universal or so powerful in its influ- 
 ence as love that energizes the mind and heart. 
 Love lent swiftness to the feet of Sir Galahad; 
 lent his heart courage; lent his sword victory. 
 Entering the palace, love, said Cicero, ' ' makes 
 gold shine. " Love for the birds lent fame to 
 Audubon; just as love for the bees lent for- 
 tune to Huber. Love of knowledge hived all 
 the wisdom in the libraries; love of beauty 
 adorned all the galleries; love of service or- 
 ganized all the philanthropies. To-morrow, 
 at the behest of love, and in the interests of 
 dear ones at home, all the wheels will begin to 
 revolve; all the trains go out and all the ships 
 come in. When a man of real force and worth 
 passes upward into that high state of purity 
 and sweet reasonableness called love, he be- 
 comes almost sacred and exhales an ineffable 
 and mysterious atmosphere. Great is the 
 power of trade; wonderful the influence of 
 fortune and force; marvelous the hundred 
 instrumentalities and institutions of society, 
 but above all of them is man, whose love can 
 indeed "make riches splendid," whose wisdom 
 love can make mellow; whose strength love 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 can make gentle; whose defeats love can turn 
 into victories. In that hour one hundred men 
 dwell in one man. 
 
 Love also perfects morality and fulfills all 
 ethical laws. What health is to the body, 
 what sweetness is to the lark's song, what 
 perfume is to the rose, that morality is to 
 culture and character. Drunkenness and glut- 
 tony have not more power to blear the eye 
 than immorality to degrade the soul. When 
 Homer tells us that Ulysses escaped unharmed 
 from the enchanted palace, but suffered injury 
 from his unfaithfulness to a friend, the poet 
 wishes us to know that it is easier to recover 
 from the poison of Circe's cup than to escape 
 the effect of disobedience to the laws of God. 
 
 Fortunately nature is so organized as to 
 keep the consequences of ill-doing ever before 
 man's eyes. Disobeying the law of fire man is 
 burned; disobeying the law of steam man is 
 scalded; disobeying the law of honor friends 
 avert their faces, or the door of the jail closes 
 behind the wrongdoer. So few are these laws 
 and so simple that they could not be plainer 
 were they emblazoned upon the sky as an 
 ever-present scroll. There is the law of rever- 
 ence. Conscious of vastness and sublimity, in 
 the presence of mountains, man, frail, ignorant, 
 
 268 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 passing swiftly to his grave, is asked to bow 
 his head in the presence of the Eternal One. 
 
 There is also the law of truth in speech, the 
 law of purity in thought, the laws that forbid 
 theft and covetousness and killing. But all 
 these laws are gathered up and fulfilled in 
 love, just as the seven colors of nature are 
 gathered up and fulfilled in the one white sun- 
 beam. And he who loves will fulfill all these 
 laws. Loving himself, man will not waste his 
 physical treasure. As it was vandalism for 
 the iconoclasts to pass through the cathedrals 
 of Europe whitewashing the frescoes and 
 breaking down the statues, much more is it 
 vandalism for men to destroy that temple of 
 God called the body. If man loves his mind 
 he will, through culture, lead what is germinal 
 and latent forth into full blossom and fruitage. 
 He who loves scholarship will make haste to 
 double the books in his library. He who loves 
 sweetness will double the sweetness of his 
 melody. He who loves friends will double 
 their number and strengthen their affection. 
 He who loves industry will strengthen his toil 
 and lend it influence. Looking toward the 
 Kome, love fulfills the law of helpfulness. 
 Looking toward the weak and poor, love fulfills 
 the law of service and sympathy. Looking 
 
 269 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 toward a great crisis for humanity, love fufiUs 
 the law of martyrdom. 
 
 Just as summer fulfills all ripeness and 
 growth for seed and root and tree, so love ful- 
 fills all laws for self and man and the all-loving 
 God. 
 
 After thirty-six years of tireless toil Her- 
 bert Spencer has brought to a conclusion the 
 labors of a lifetime. His final volume places 
 the capstone on the structure of his philosophy. 
 In reading these pages no thoughtful mind 
 can fail to perceive that for science also has 
 dawned the vision splendid. If history began 
 with an era of force, its last and crowning 
 achievement will be the era when love, organ- 
 ized into laws and institutions, will lend per- 
 fection to civilization. The upward march of 
 mankind has been slow and accompanied by 
 tremendous losses. At the beginning strength 
 prevailed and weakness went to the wall; the 
 bird with the swiftest wing first reached 
 the fountain, the deer with the swiftest foot 
 reached the place of shelter, the ox with the 
 strongest thrust reached the richest fodder. 
 Pushed back, weakness perished, while strength 
 prevailed and propagated. 
 
 This law of violence received its first check 
 through the parental instinct. Parenthood 
 built a fortress with walls and bulwarks about 
 
 270 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 the babe. Love of offspring caused a weak- 
 ness to survive. At last an era dawned when 
 many parents united to construct a shield for 
 weak children indeed, but also for weak adults. 
 The state lifted the shield between weakness 
 and its oppressor. The widow and the orphan 
 were permitted to glean after the harvesters 
 The traveler, passing through the field, might 
 pluck a handful of corn or pull a bunch of figs. 
 The creditor must not take the blanket or coat 
 from the laborer nor the boat from the poor 
 fisherman, nor the plane or saw from the poor 
 carpenter. Stimulated by Christ's example 
 and teachings, society began to multiply the 
 bulwarks against tyranny and selfishness. 
 Looking toward the child, for the protection 
 of weakness and unripeness, the state built 
 these shields called the school and library; 
 looking toward the unfortunate and those 
 weak in body or mind, the state built bulwarks 
 called asylum and hospital. Looking toward 
 the chimney-sweep, the factory boys and girls, 
 the state began to soften pain and mitigate 
 the distress of labor. Looking toward the 
 serf and the slave and the prisoner, the 
 novelist and poet constructed song and story 
 as shields for the protection of the weak and 
 the oppressed. 
 One hundred years ago a man was as a 
 
 271 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 beast of the field, and the slaughter of men in 
 Italy, by the tyrant who ruled over them, 
 stirred no more thought in England than the 
 news of the slaughter of so many beasts. But 
 fifty years ago the state had become so gentle 
 toward the weak that when Mr. Gladstone 
 made a protest against the savagery and in- 
 furiated cruelty wrought upon the inmates of 
 the dungeons of Italy, then the heart of 
 Europe turned toward Bome, the throne trem- 
 bled upon its foundations. Formerly when 
 any foreign government wished to colonize 
 Africa, they sent out a regiment of soldiers, 
 cut off a slice of the country and annexed it 
 Now public sentiment forbids such tyranny. 
 The only way the aggressive nations can ob- 
 tain possession of new territory is to do it 
 vliader the name of a protectorate, sugar-coat- 
 ing, as has been said, the deeds of tyranny. 
 If the dungeon has been rifled of its prey, if 
 cruelty has been scourged out of the land, if 
 despotism tottered, it is because society was 
 slowly climbing up that stairway, of which the 
 first step ia fear and the last is love. 
 
 In thes« January days our earth, snow-clad 
 and frost-bound, seems like a huge ball of ice. 
 Yet all unconsciously to itself the earth is 
 being swept on into spring and summer. Un- 
 consciously, but none the less truly, society, 
 
 27 a 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 under the silent and secret impulse of the 
 great God, has been journeying upward toward 
 the time when love shall fulfill every law; when 
 kindness and sympathy shall be organized in 
 manners and customs. All the revolutions of 
 the past, all the clangor of war, all the tum- 
 bling down of Bastilles, all the piling up of 
 cities, is as nothing to the advance of the 
 world toward that era when love shall perfect 
 man's institutions and civilization. 
 
 Love also perfects religion. It is the glory 
 of Christ that he unveils the sovereignty of 
 character and crowns manhood with all-ma- 
 turing and all-perfecting love. Looking back- 
 ward, man finds that all religions fall into four 
 classes : There is the religion of fear and force, 
 when man offers sacrifices to appease the gods 
 and conciliate justice. There is the religion 
 of law, when men reduce life to formal rules, 
 and the Pharisee rigorously fulfills his duty as 
 chief, or trader, or friend. There is the reli- 
 gion of romanticism, when men of powerful 
 intellect and strong imagination evolve their 
 ideal and, withdrawing to some cave, give 
 themselves to reverie. In all such self be- 
 comes an orb, so large as to eclipse brother 
 man and Grod. Last of all there is the religion 
 of Christ, in which love is root, blossom and 
 fruitage. It aims at the development and un- 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 folding of everything that is gracious in life; 
 whatever strikes at admiration, whether it is 
 in school, in art, in song, in wit, in travel, in 
 books; whatever is praiseworthy in courage or 
 endurance; whatever has fineness and sweet- 
 ness and nobility; all that belongs to the hero 
 and patriot; all that belongs to the seer and 
 scholar; all that belongs to leadership in trade 
 and commerce — all these elements are to be 
 united and carried upward into the sweetness 
 and purity of life, until the full man, standing 
 apart and standing above life, seems to have 
 been informed with divine love, as with a pres- 
 ence. 
 
 And when love has made the most of the 
 man himself it overflows to bless others. 
 Christ's disciples are not here to be ministered 
 unto, but to minister. Eeligion, says Christ, 
 is love, and love is gentle toward those with 
 hollow eyes and famine-stricken faces. Love 
 is kindly toward those who have a tragedy 
 written in the sharpened countenance. Love 
 is patient toward those who have lost fidelity, 
 as a man loses a golden coin; who have lost 
 morality as one who flounders in the Alpine 
 drifts. And this religion of love takes on a 
 thousand modem forms. If it is not rowing 
 out against the darkness and storm, as did 
 Grace Darling to save the shipwrecked, it is 
 
 274 
 
The Love that Perfects Life. 
 
 going forth to those tossed upon life's billows, 
 to succor and to save. For love is making the 
 individual life beautiful, ' making the home 
 beautiful, and will at last make the church and 
 state beautiful. Men will not bow down to 
 crowned power nor philosophic power nor 
 esthetic power; but, in the presence of a great 
 soul, filled with vigor of inspiration and glowing 
 with love, man will do obeisance. There is no 
 force upon earth like divine love in the heart 
 of man, and at last that force will sweeten and 
 regenerate society. 
 
 Love also fulfills immortality. Of late 
 science has reduced the number of things that 
 endure. The astronomer tells us the sun is 
 burning up, and will be a dying ash-heap as 
 truly as the coal in man's cellar will be ex- 
 hausted. The geologists tell us the flowing of 
 "the crystal springs wearies the mountain's 
 heart as truly as the beating of the crimson 
 pulse wearies man's ; that the force of the iron 
 crag is abated in its time, like the strength of 
 human sinews in old age." The everlasting 
 mountains are doomed to decay as surely as 
 the moth and worm. It seems that the shin- 
 ing texture of stars and suns must wax old, 
 like a garment, and decay. If now youth is 
 eager to master all knowledge, plunge into 
 the thick of life's battle, forge some tool, enact 
 
 275 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 some law, right some wrong, the time will 
 speedily come when the man will sit down amid 
 the ruins of his life and confess that his idols 
 have been shivered, one by one. 
 
 He who loves endures. For him always all 
 is well. That youth with a great love for 
 nature's treasures that promised fame, but who 
 found his open book crimson with the life-cur- 
 rent, may dry his tears, for love is immortal 
 and beyond he will fulfill the dreams denied 
 here. Because he loves the slave, Livingstone, 
 falling in the African forest, need not fear, for 
 love will make his work immortal. The sweet 
 mother, whose love overarches the cradle with 
 thoughts that for number are beyond the stars, 
 need not fear to leave behind the gentle babe, 
 for everlasting love will encircle it. Falling 
 Into unconsciousness and putting out upon the 
 yeasty sea midst the falling darkness, man 
 may call back: " I still live." For God is love 
 and God is eternal. Therefore man who loves 
 is immortal also. 
 
 276 
 
Hope's Harvest, and the Far-off 
 Interest of Tears. 
 
"Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drown'd, 
 
 Let Darkness keep her raven gloss ; 
 
 Ah, sweeter to be drunk with loss, 
 
 To dance with Death to beat the ground !" — Tennyson, 
 
 "Soul, rule thyself. On passion, deed, desire. 
 
 Lay thou the laws of thy deliberate will. 
 
 Stand at thy chosen post, Faith*s sentinel : 
 
 Though Hell's lost legions ring thee round with fire. 
 
 Learn to endure. Dark vigil hours shall tire 
 
 Thy wakeful eyes ; regrets thy bosom thrill j 
 
 Slow years thy loveless flower of youth shall kill ; 
 
 Yea, thou shalt yearn for lute and wanton lyre. 
 
 Yet is thy guerdon great ; thine the reward 
 
 Of those elect, who, scorning Circe's lure. 
 
 Grown early wise, make living light their lord. 
 
 Clothed with celestial steel, these walk secure. 
 
 Masters, not slaves. Over their heads the pure 
 
 Heavens bow, and guardian seraphs wave God's sword." 
 
 — y. A. Symmis. 
 
CHAPTER XrV. 
 
 Hope's Harvest, and the Far-off 
 Interest of Tears. 
 
 The soul is monarch of three kingdoms. Man 
 lives at once in the present, the past and the 
 future. Memory presides over yesterday; to- 
 day is ruled by reason; to-morrow is under 
 the sway of hope. The ancient seer who stood 
 by the historic vine reflecting how the rain of 
 yesterday had disappeared to give its sweet 
 liquors to the roots only to reappear to-morrow 
 in purple clusters, gave us a beautiful image 
 of himself. Each himian life is like unto a 
 vine — ^its trunk manifest in the present; its 
 roots deeply buried in the past; its branches 
 throwing themselves forward, ripening fruit 
 for days to come. Life is a solid column of 
 days all compacted together. To-day's useful- 
 ness is in the number of wise, happy and 
 helpful yesterdays, whose accumulated treas' 
 ures crowd forward the soul's present activi- 
 ties. But for his yesterdays stored up in 
 memory man would be impotent for any heroic 
 thought or deed. He would remain a per- 
 petual infant. As the child journeys away 
 
 279 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 from the cradle memory gathers up and car- 
 ries forward faces, words, books, arts, sci- 
 ences, literatures; and these recollections are 
 embalmed and transmitted as soul-capital, 
 legacies unspeakably precious. 
 
 Yesterday, therefore, is no mausoleum of dead 
 deeds ; no storehouse of mummies. Memory is a 
 granary holding seed for to-morrow's sowing; 
 memory is an armory holding weapons for to- 
 morrow's battles; memory is a medicine-chest 
 with balms for to-morrow's hurts ; memory is 
 a library with wisdom for to-morrow's emer- 
 gency. Yesterday holds the full store of to- 
 day's civilization; contains our tools, conven- 
 iences, knowledges; contains our battlefields 
 and victories; above all gives us Bethlehem 
 and Calvary. But alone man's yesterday is 
 impotent; his to-morrow insuflBcient. The true 
 man binds all his days together with an earn- 
 est, intense, passionate purpose. His yester- 
 days, to-days and to-morrows march together, 
 one solid column, animated by one thought, 
 constrained by one conspiracy of desire, ener- 
 gizing toward one holy and helpful purpose, to 
 serve man and love God. 
 
 God governs man through the regency of 
 hope. The reasons thereof are self-evident. 
 Man is born a long way from home. No cradle 
 rocks a full-orbed manhood. The babe begins 
 
 280 
 
Hope's Harvest. 
 
 a mere handful of germs; a bough of unblos- 
 somed buds. It is a weary climb from nothing 
 to manhood, at its best. As things rise in the 
 scale of being the distance between birth and 
 maturity widens. Mollusks are born close up 
 to their full estate, sandflies mature in two 
 days, butterflies in two weeks, humming-birds 
 in as many months. But let no man think the 
 vast all-shadowing redwood trees of California 
 grew in a mushroomic night. When the seed 
 first thrust its rootlets down into the soil and 
 its plumule up to the sunshine it entered upon 
 a long career. Saved by hope after 800 years 
 of growth it gives shade to myriads of birds; 
 beams for lath and loom and ship in the ser- 
 vice of industry; lends pen and pencil to poet 
 and artist in the service of beauty; through 
 desk and pew enters into man's intellectual 
 and moral life; through instruments of conven- 
 ience strengthens the sweet amenities of the 
 home; working, it also waited and is saved by 
 hope. 
 
 Man stands at the very summit of cre- 
 ation. He is at the head of all that creep and 
 swim and walk and fly. Preparatory to his 
 dominion he begins with the lowest and runs 
 the whole gamut of experience of all living- 
 things below him. And hope alone can save 
 him as he journeys upward through all the 
 
 281 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 intermediate stages on his way to his throne 
 and his God. Big with destiny, he is saved by 
 hope. Not to-day and not yesterday can suf- 
 fice. The present offers only standing room 
 — four-and-twenty hours. Memory is a bin 
 banked with snowdrifts, not the waving har- 
 vest-fields. Man's life is all in front of him. 
 His large endowment asks for an extended 
 period of time; asks seventy years for skill 
 toward his body; asks an immortal destiny for 
 mind and heart. He is saved by hope and 
 futurity. 
 
 Consider the scope and functions of hope 
 and aspiration. Man is governed from above 
 and within; while rocks, birds, beasts are 
 governed from below and without. Gravity 
 holds the bowlder in its place. The channel 
 saith to the river: "Thus far and no farther." 
 The fawn that is struck, the lion that strikes, 
 the eagle dwelling above both, are controlled 
 by fear. The charioteer drives his steeds from 
 behind and controls by rein and scourge. But 
 man is controlled from within and in front. 
 God does not scourge his children forward 
 through whips of fear. Hopfes moving on be- 
 fore him lure him onward. The Italian artist 
 shows us the child passing near the precipice. 
 Then drew near a gentle guardian spirit. The 
 unseen friend rolled along the pathway apples 
 
 282 
 
Hope's Harvest. 
 
 of Paradise and the child, following after with 
 shouts of glee, was lured from danger. To 
 the beauty of the artist's thought Homer's 
 story adds elements of instruction. When the 
 Grecian boy was pursued by a giant whose 
 breath was fire, whose hand held a huge club, 
 two invisible beings lent help. One took the 
 boy's hand and lifted him forward, the other 
 casting an invisible cord over him flew before 
 him until his speed was doubled and the pal- 
 ace gates gave shelter. Oh, beautiful story of 
 God's gentle rule o'er men I When troubles 
 sweep over the world like sheeted storms, 
 when men fear exceedingly and strong men 
 cower and shrink and little ones believe the 
 next step to be the precipice, then God smiles. 
 Striking some sweet bell he sends forth mes- 
 sengers to lure men forward; they hang stars 
 in man's night; they whisper that the twilight 
 is nothing, since it is morning twilight; that 
 fears are bats and owls hooting at the dawn ; 
 that hope is a lark singing the new day; that 
 God reigns and all is well. Then depart all 
 fears and superstitions. The courage of the 
 future comes; the columns begin a forward 
 march. These upward movements of society 
 are the yearnings of God's heart lifting his 
 children forward by hope. 
 Hope and aspiration also furnish the secret 
 
 283 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 springs of civilization. All things iiseful and 
 beautiful were once only hopes and ideas. 
 Free institutions are ideals of liberty, crystal- 
 lized into word forms. Tools and instruments 
 are ideals dressed up in iron clothes. The 
 early forest man dwelt in a cave; ached with 
 cold and moaned with hunger. Going into 
 the forest to dig roots he found honey hived 
 by the bees and nuts stored up by squirrels 
 against the winter. Straightway hope sug- 
 gested to him a larger granary, whence hath 
 come all man's bins and storehouses. Man 
 plucked a large plum and found it sour, and 
 another plum small, but sweet. Hope sug- 
 gested that he unite the two and strike through 
 the abundant acid juices of the one with the 
 sugar of the other. Thence came all vine- 
 yards and orchards. Digging in the soil tired 
 him, but hope suggested that his pet ox might 
 pull his forked stick; when the wooden stick 
 wore blunt hope replaced it with an iron point; 
 when the iron point refused to scour hope 
 suggested steel; when the steel made his bur- 
 den light and doubled the pace of his steeds, 
 hope suggested a seat on the plow; when the 
 riding-plow gave him time to think, hope 
 suggested he could increase the harvest by 
 doubling the depth; when the weight was 
 overheavy for his beasts, hope suggested a 
 
 284 
 
Hope's Harvest. 
 
 steam-plow. The Kensington Museum ex- 
 hibits the growth of the plow idea, as it moved 
 from the forked stick to the ' ' steam gang. " 
 If in this procession of material plows ^e 
 could see the procession of ideal plows we 
 would find that thoughts and hopes are a thou- 
 sandfold more than material things. 
 
 By hope also do the people increase in wis- 
 dom and culture and character. Millions of 
 men are digging and toiling twelve hours each 
 day; and God hath sent forth hope to eman- 
 cipate them from drudgery. The man digging 
 with his pick hath a far-away look as he toils. 
 Hope is drawing pictures of a cottage with 
 vines over the doorway, with some one stand- 
 ing at the gate, a sweet voice singing over 
 the cradle. Hope makes this home his ; it rests 
 the laborer and savesXhim from despair. Mul- 
 titudes working in the stithy and deep mines 
 sweeten their labor and exalt their toil by 
 aspiring thoughts. Thinking of his little ones 
 at home, the miner says: "My children shall 
 not be as their father was; my drudgery is 
 not for self, but for love's sake; the sweat of 
 my brow is oil in the lamp of love ; I will light 
 it to-night on the sacred altar of home. " Here 
 is the secret of the rise and reign of the peo- 
 ple. This explains all man's progress in 
 knowledge and culture. As the fruits and 
 
 285 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 flowers rise rank upon rank in response to the 
 advancing summer, so all that is most refined 
 and exalted in man's mind or heart bursts 
 forth in new ideals, reforms, revolutions, in re- 
 sponse to the revelation of that personal 
 presence from whom all hope and aspiration 
 incessantly proceed. 
 
 Hope's noble ministry hath grievous enemies. 
 Among these let us include a false use of the 
 past. Yesterday contains sins and mistakes; 
 but multitudes err in dwelling too much 
 upon their wrongs. Each man hath had his 
 temptations, each his fierce conflicts and de- 
 feats, each bears grievous scars from the 
 battle-field. Yet if one constantly revives all 
 his old sins life will be filled with hideous 
 specters. Memory will become a place of tor- 
 ment and a ghastly chamber of horrors. We 
 shall be the children of despondency and 
 wretchedness. Memory will be a graveyard; 
 the past will give no light save the ' ' will-o' 
 the-wisp " light from putrescence and decay. 
 All the springs of joy will be poisoned 
 by morbid griefs that keep open old wounds. 
 The city hath its offal heap where refuse mat- 
 ter is destroyed; each home its garret, the 
 contents cast out at regular intervals; the 
 individual throws away his old clothes, old 
 tools, old vehicles. Why should not the soul 
 
 286 
 
Hope's Harvest. 
 
 have its refuse valley — where the past is cast 
 out of life and memory? 
 
 Farmers' boys sometimes set steel traps by 
 shocks of corn whither come quail and prairie 
 chickens. Stepping upon the traps, the cruel 
 jaws close upon foot or wing and the bleeding 
 bird beats out its life upon the frozen ground. 
 Memory often with cruel jaws holds men 
 entrapped. A single error wrecks the whole 
 life. But once forgiven of God let the sin go. 
 Reflection upon past sins is good only so long 
 as it produces revulsion from sin, and like a 
 bow shoots the soul toward God and righteous- 
 ness. God is like a mother who forgives the 
 child's sin into everlasting forgetfulness. Man 
 should be ashamed to remember what God for- 
 gets. "I will cast your sins into the depth 
 of the sea.'' Someone says: "God receives 
 the soul as the ses, the bather, to return it 
 cleansed — itself unsoiled." Gather up, there- 
 fore, all thy sins — old wrongs, old hatreds, 
 burning angers, memories of men's treachery; 
 stuff them into a bag and heave them into the 
 gulf of oblivion. Your life is not in the past, 
 but in the future. "We are saved by hope." 
 
 Multitudes may embitter their new year by 
 undue reflections over opportimities neglected 
 and lost in the past and denied in the present. 
 Professor Agassiz tells of a friend who sold his 
 
 287 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 farm in Pennsylvania for $5,000 to invest it 
 in Dakota, and after losing all in the new 
 home returned to find the German who pur- 
 chased the homestead had found oil and great 
 wealth in a swamp which he had tried to drain 
 off. An old gentleman recently told of his 
 refusal in 1840 to accept as payment of a 
 small note a lot on a corner in Chicago now 
 worth a million dollars, and he shed bitter 
 tears over the loss of property he never owned. 
 When Ali Hafed heard of the diamonds in 
 Ihdia he sold his estate and went forth to seek 
 his fortune. His successor, watering his 
 camel in the garden, saw the gleam of gems 
 in the white sand and discovered the Golconda 
 mines. Had Ali Hafed had eyes to see his 
 would have been boundless treasure at home 
 instead of poverty, starvation and death. 
 These and similar legends stand for the op-^ 
 portunities that have gone forever. How 
 many neglected their opportunities for educa- 
 tion; how they knocked unbidden at every 
 door and no man opened. Others were denied 
 culture, and now feel they are unfulfilled 
 prophecies. Many by one error have injured 
 eye or ear or lung or limb or nervous system. 
 They grievously handicapped themselyes. 
 Others by ingratitude, infidelity to trusts, 
 treachery to friends, have poisoned happiness. 
 
 288 
 
Hope's Harvest. 
 
 Repentance is theirs, and also forgiveness, but 
 not forgetfulness. The past is full of bitter- 
 ness. 
 
 Let the dead past bury its dead. The future 
 is still ours. The trees in October willingly 
 let go their leaves to fall into the ditch. Their 
 life is not in last year's leaves, but in the 
 infant buds that crowd tjie old leaves off. 
 Put forth new activities. Open new furrows. 
 Sow new seed. All the tomorrows are thine; 
 but they are few and short. Fulfill his dictum 
 who said: "I am as one going onee across this 
 vast continent; I would lean forth and sow as 
 far as hand can scatter my seed. Let the 
 angels count the bundles." No man should 
 be discouraged in whom God believes, pre- 
 serving him in life. Let hope in God sweetisn 
 life's bitterness. 
 
 Another enemy of hopefulness is found in 
 nervous excesses and overwork. Men drain 
 away their vitality. Ambitions unduly stim- 
 ulate the brain. Many break the laws of sleep 
 and the laws of digestion and the laws of nerve 
 sobriety. They spend their brain capital. 
 Then they grow hopeless toward home and 
 business. Ill-health spreads a gloom over all 
 life. Every judgment is pessimistic; it could 
 not be otherwise. The jaundiced eye yellows 
 the landscape. The sweetest music rasps like 
 
 289 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 a file upon the nervous ear. Thomas Carlyle's 
 pessimism was largely physical. He over- 
 worked upon his life of Oliver Cromwell. 
 Maurice once said : " Carlyle believed in God 
 down to the time of Oliver Cromwell." Once, 
 in a moment of depression, Lyman Beecher 
 prayed: "Lord, keep us from despising our 
 rulers, and help them to stop acting so we 
 cannot help despising them." Poor, nerve- 
 racked Pascal, grew fearful lest his affection 
 tor his sister, who had nursed him through a 
 long illness, was sinful. One day" he wrote in 
 his journal: "Lord, forgive me for loving my 
 dear sister so much I" Afterward he drew 
 his pen through the word ' ' dear. " Hope and 
 trust toward God go with health. Sickliness 
 is not saintliness. God cannot save by hope 
 what man destroys by ill-health. 
 
 Dean Stanley used hopefulness as a test of 
 all systems of truth. Eightly so. God is the 
 God of hope, and his truth, like himself, carries 
 the atmosphere of good cheer. The falsity of 
 medievalism appears in this — it robbed men of 
 joy and gladness. God was the center of 
 darkness. His throne was iron. His heart 
 was marble. His laws were huge implements 
 of destruction. His penalties were red-hot 
 cannon balls crashing along the sinner's path- 
 way. Repentance toward God was moving 
 
 290 
 
Hope's Harvest, 
 
 toward the arctics and away from the tropics. 
 Christiauity was anything but "peace on 
 earth, good will to men." 
 
 Philosophers destroyed God's winsomeness. 
 The reformers came in to lead men away from 
 medievalism back to God himself. Men found 
 hope again in redemptive love. They saw 
 that any conception of God that dispirited and 
 depressed men was perverted and false. No 
 man hath done more to establish this fact than 
 him who long ago said : ' ' Any presentation 
 of the gospel of Jesus Christ that does not 
 come to the world as the balmy days of May 
 comes to the unlocked northern zones; any 
 way of preaching the love of God in Christ 
 which is not as full of sweetness as the voice 
 of the angels when they sang at the advent; 
 any way of making known the proclamation 
 of mercy which has not at least as many birds 
 as there are in Jime and as many flowers as 
 the dumb meadows know how to bring forth; 
 any method of bringing before men the doc- 
 trine of salvation which does not make every- 
 one feel, 'There is hope for me in God — in the 
 divine plan, in the very nature of the organi- 
 zation of human life and society,' is spurious 
 — is a slander on God and is blasphemy against 
 his love." 
 
 Hope hath her harvest also for teachers and 
 
 291 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 reformers. Often men think their work is 
 squandered. They seem to be sowing seed 
 not upon the Nile, to find it again abundantly, 
 but in midocean, to sink and come to naught. 
 Parents and teachers break their hearts, fear- 
 ing their watchfulness and instruction have 
 failed. Men sow wheat and wait six months 
 for a harvest; but they sow moral seed Sun- 
 day and on Monday whip their children because 
 the seed has not ripened. They forget that 
 apples bitter in July may be sweet in August. 
 To-day's vice in the child is often to-morrow's 
 virtue, as acid juices through frost become 
 saccharine. Yesterday the mother rocked a 
 little angel in the cradle; to-day she moans: 
 " Alas, that I should have rooked a little fox, 
 a little serpent, a little wolf !" To-morrow the 
 child becomes a model of truth and integrity. 
 The sage might have said: "It is good that 
 woman should hope and wait. " Truth's errand 
 has always been a successful errand. Not a 
 single social truth or civic truth or moral 
 truth has ever been lost out of the world. 
 Secrets of cruelty and fraud, secrets of op- 
 pression and sin perish, but nothing that 
 makes life happier or better hath been for- 
 gotten. We do not have to keep God and 
 truth alive; they keep us alive. Vegetable 
 seeds can be killed, but not moral seeds. When 
 
 292 
 
Hope's Harvest. 
 
 G-od issues his silent command to the earth 
 flying into winter and wheels it back toward 
 summer, it is given to no man to put a brake 
 upon warmth; nor can he go up against the 
 spring with swords and banners. But easier 
 this than staying the upward march of man- 
 kind. God is abroad upon a 'mission of re- 
 covery. Open thy hand, O publicist ! and 
 sow thy seed. The seed shall perish, but not 
 the harvest. 
 
 Our childhood was pleased with the story 
 of the old monk who was shipwrecked alone 
 on a desert isle. He always carried with 
 him a few roots and seeds. Planting these, he 
 died, but sailors coming twenty years later 
 found the isle waving with fruit trees. To the 
 beauty of this legend let us add the truth of 
 one who has made all this land his debtor. In 
 1801 a youth passed through western Penn- 
 sylvania. He was collecting apple seeds with 
 which to found orchards in the then unbroken 
 states of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Michigan. 
 When he came to an open, sunny spot in the 
 forest he would plant his seeds and protect 
 them with a brush fence. Years afterward 
 new settlers found hundreds of these embryo 
 orchards in the forests. Thrice he floated his 
 canoe laden with seeds down the Ohio to the 
 settlers in Kentucky. To this brave man, 
 
 293 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 called by our Congressional Record "Johnny 
 Appleseed," whole states owe their wealth and 
 treasure of vineyards and orchards. This in- 
 trepid man is a beautiful type of all those who, 
 passing through life's wastes, sow the land 
 with God's eternal truths, whose leaves and 
 fruits heal nations. If God remembers the 
 roots in dark forests he will not forget his 
 truths in human hearts. Therefore, sow thy 
 seed. Ye are saved by hope. 
 
 The ground and basis of all hope whatso- 
 ever is God. It is his good providence and 
 redemptive love in Jesus Christ that make us 
 optimists. Hope is not within the scope of 
 our wisdom or culture or skill; and hope is 
 not in our health or tool or treasure. We 
 journey into an unknown future. It is not 
 given to us to know what a day or an hour of 
 the new year may bring forth. How impotent 
 are the wisest and strongest in the hour when 
 we hear the sound of the ocean and in dark- 
 ness ford the deep and dangerous river, beyond 
 which is high and eternal noon. What can 
 the child on some great ocean steamer caught 
 in a winter's storm do to overcome the tem- 
 pest? Can it drive the fierce blasts back to 
 their northern haunts? Can its little hand 
 hold the wheel and guide the great ship? Can 
 its voice still the billows that can crush the 
 
 294 
 
Hope's Harvest. 
 
 steamer like an egg-shell ? Can its breath 
 destroy the icy coat of mail that covers all the 
 decks? What the child can do is trust the 
 Captain who has brought this same ship 
 through a hundred hard storms. It can rest 
 and trust and hope. And all we upon this 
 great earth-ship have been caught, not in a 
 storm, but in the gulf stream of God's provi- 
 dence. The warm tropic currents sweep us on 
 to the heavenly harbor. The trade winds 
 above aid the forward flight. More than all 
 else is the larger planetary movement that 
 sweeps gulf stream, winds and ship onward 
 towards the infinite. Soon shall we enter into 
 quiet waters and cast out our anchor. 
 
 Looking forward, let us hope and cleanse 
 all fear out of life — trust God, love him and 
 rejoice. Even our largest problems need not 
 dispirit us. Problems are not to be analyzed, 
 but accepted. He who analyzes a flower loses 
 it. He who cracks a diamond to see what it 
 is, is without both gem and knowledge. Life's 
 great questions are seeds. Plant a seed, then 
 wait. Some day the flower and fruit will ex- 
 plain the seed. It is well to lay aside difficult 
 questions to be asked some day at the throne 
 of God. Then we will look back to smile at 
 what now disturbs us exceedingly. Remem- 
 ber the Eussian Cathedral^travelers tell us 
 
 ^95 
 
The Investment of Influence. 
 
 the din and noise of the crowds thronging 
 under the dome to those above the dome be- 
 come a strain of soft music. It is good to hope 
 and wait. Because God lives and loves, man 
 should enter the future as he enters temple or 
 cathedral — to dedicate all its days to hope and 
 aspiration. 
 
 9o6 
 
INDEX. 
 
 And-slavery movement, 
 
 the; Wilberforce 211 
 
 Arnold, Benedict 243 
 
 Arnold of Rugby 189 
 
 Audubon, wife of 98 
 
 Bacon; Pascal 75 
 
 "Baucis and Philemon" . 249 
 
 Caesar, the value of per- 
 sonality 16 
 
 Carey, William 171 
 
 Carlyle, wife of. 186 
 
 Christ, coming of. i aa 
 
 Christian manhood, the., 259 
 Christ the supreme ex- 
 ample 30 
 
 Civilization, achieve- 
 
 ments of. 136 
 
 Civilization, Christ's 
 
 promise for 52 
 
 Classic writer, tale of a . . 24 
 Culture, Character, 
 
 Beauty, the secret of. . 163 
 
 Darwin on Christian 
 
 teachers 168 
 
 Desert, oases of 35 
 
 Divine Teacher, the..,, 177 
 
 England, career of. 253 
 
 England, orphan babes of 210 
 
 English visitor, the 148 
 
 Fame a holy ambition, , . 29 
 
 Faneuil, Peter 215 
 
 Fathen, the; uprising of 
 
 1861 ., s$ 
 
 Feeling and sentiment, . , 142 
 Forest, a-^ifFering con- 
 ceptions of. 60 
 
 Fourth century, the 223 
 
 France — ^king of; Marie 
 
 Antionette; Carlyle, 63, 64 
 Friendship an open sesame 231 
 
 Garfield ■. . i jg 
 
 Genius marred by ab- 
 sence of humble virtues 207 
 Gentleness, lack of. ... . 181 
 God, erroneous concep- 
 tion of. 191 
 
 God, man's attitude 
 
 toward 65 
 
 God, punishments of. . , , 85 
 God the ground and basis 
 
 of all hope 294 
 
 God's world a good world 36 
 
 Gough, John B 144 
 
 Great hearts 134 
 
 Greatness an accumula- 
 tion of little deeds 202 
 
 Grey, Jane 201 
 
 Growth by accretion; 
 from seed 242 
 
 Heart and intellect 138 
 
 Heart and the age of ^ 
 
 cruelty 139 
 
 Heart transformations., , 145 
 Heroism — the Divine 
 
 Teacher; Henry Grady; 
 
 Napier; Browning; 
 
 Ruskm 92~9S 
 
 2q7 
 
Index. 
 
 Holland, greatness of; 
 
 William the Silent... 170 
 Homer's ideal, Helen... 119 
 Hope and aspiration, 
 
 Ainctions of. 282 
 
 Hope, enemies of 286 
 
 Hope long deferred 112 
 
 Howard; Goodyear; Pat- 
 
 teson 79, 80 
 
 Hugo, Victor 165 
 
 Human life, enemies of. . 205 
 Humanity and social sym- 
 pathy 100 
 
 Industrial law the law of 
 
 sacrifice 161 
 
 Intelligence, ignorance... 125 
 
 Keats 183 
 
 "Keep thou this man" . . 219 
 King Saul and the seer, . 14 
 
 Labor, problem of. 124 
 
 Labor, fiiiition of. 127 
 
 Law of violence, the. . , , 270 
 Life a column of days, , . 279 
 
 Life, problem of. 239 
 
 Life's better hours 233 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham 56 
 
 Livingstone 180 
 
 Love, definition of. 264 
 
 Love and immortality, . . 275 
 Love the fulfillment of 
 
 all ethical laws 268 
 
 Lowly woman, career of a 19 
 
 Man governed through 
 
 hope 280 
 
 Man, influence of for 
 
 good or evil 13 
 
 Man, the great destroyer, 23 
 Man, a force-producer, , , 25 
 Man, unpurposed influ- 
 ence of. 27 
 
 Moral retribution 251 
 
 Nature, favors of. 71 
 
 Nature, mysterious work- 
 ings of. 241 
 
 New womanhood, the. . , 98 
 Nerve and brain force, 
 
 drain of 255 
 
 "No man careth for my 
 soul" 214 
 
 Opportunity, genius of. . . 220 
 Oration s — American; 
 humble heroes; parental 
 sacrifice; suffering of 
 ancestors; a tribute to 
 the early dead 81-84 
 
 Patriot, the; scholar, the, 70 
 
 Peabody, George 57 
 
 Phocion, patriot and 
 
 martyr 170 
 
 Pompeii 229 
 
 Progress and civilizadon, 
 
 law of. 166 
 
 Progress, mainspring of, , 261 
 
 Prosperity 230 
 
 Religion, man's idea of, , 121 
 
 Religion perfected by love £73 
 
 Retribution, harvest of. , . 245 
 
 Rosetta Stone, the 197 
 
 Science and God 204 
 
 Seas, secrets of, 73 
 
 Secret springs of cinliza- 
 
 rion 283 
 
 Self-sacrifice, law of,,,, 159 
 
 Society 58 
 
 Society, cr^ng need of. , 188 
 
 Socie^, progress of, , . , , 123 
 
 Spencer, Herbert 170 
 
 Spiritual harvests, Mil- 
 ton's study of, 247 
 
 Strategic dement, tlw. . , 225 
 
 498 
 
Index. 
 
 The Christian the perfect 
 
 gentleman 262 
 
 The heart and reUgious 
 
 belief. 147 
 
 The heart in industiy, , . 151 
 The heart in civilization, 149 
 Thirteenth century, the, , 224 
 
 Thought, liberty of 78 
 
 Time- element, the; 
 Robert Peel; honors 
 are evanescent; man's 
 social and industrial 
 Ufe; realm of law and 
 liberty 113-119 
 
 Time-element in business , 126 
 
 Turner 182 
 
 Tyndall 74 
 
 Unsupported intellect, im- 
 potency of, 140 
 
 Wealth and position — 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury 21 
 
 Wealth and poverty, , . . 103 
 
 Webster, Daniel 165 
 
 Widow's mite, the 198 
 
 Wisdom, culture, char- 
 acter increased by hope, 285 
 
 399 
 
PRINTED AT THE LAKESIDE PRESS 
 
 BY R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS CO. 
 
 MCMII 
 
 FIRST EDITION, OCTOBER, 1897 
 SECOND EDITION, OCTOBER, 1897 
 THIRD EDITION, NOVEMBER, 1897 
 FOURTH EDITION, DECEMBER, 1897 
 FIFTH EDITION, JULY, x8g8 
 SIXTH EDITION, AUGUST, l8g8 
 SEVENTH EDITION. SEPTEMBER, l8g8 
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 NINTH EDITION, MAY, 1899 
 TENTH EDITION, JUNE, 1899 
 ELEVENTH EDITION, OCTOBER, 1899 
 TWELFTH EDITION, NOVEMBER, 1899 
 THIRTEENTH EDITION, NOVEMBER, 1899 
 FOURTEENTH EDITION, DECEMBER. 1899 
 FIFTEENTH EDITION, OCTOBER, 1900 
 SI3nrEENTH EDITION, DECEMBER, IQOO 
 SEVENTEENTH EDITION, AUGUST, 19OI 
 EIGHTEENTH EDITION, OCTOBER, X9OI 
 NINETEENTH EDITION, NOVEMBER, I90I 
 TWENTIETH EDITION, DECEMBER, I9OI 
 TWENTY-FIRST EDITION, JULY, ig02 
 TWENTY-SECOND EDITION, JULY, 1902 
 
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