our limitations, as suggested in the first chapter
of this book, you discover neither inclination nor talent for these
great ventures in thought or action, do not, as you value happiness,
and even life, attempt great things; for your failure has been written
before you were born.
_Do the thing which is in proportion to yourself_; and if that thing
is not great, still you have served yourself, your family, your
country, and the world, just as much as he who has done a larger
thing, and you deserve just as much credit for doing it.
None of us controlled the color of our eyes or the texture of our
brain. If we could have done so, perhaps we should have been different
from what we are. And we cannot change the nature and relations of
things now; for "which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto
his stature"?
But be your deeds little or big, one thing you _can_ do and be: _You
can be a man_ and do a man's work, heart gentle, and fearless feet on
the earth, but eyes on the stars. And to be a MAN, in our
American meaning of that word, is glory enough for this earthly life.
_Be a man_, be you street-sweeper or the Republic's President, and
know that emperor on throne of gold can be no more, and is lucky if he
is as much.
IX
NEGATIVE FUNDAMENTALS
At one of the great official receptions at the White House one night
some years ago, a group of two or three gentlemen were observing the
swirling throng, with its ambitions, its jealousies, its brief flashes
of happiness, its numberless and infinitesimal intrigues, its
atmosphere of jaded, blase, and defeated expectations.
One of the group was perhaps the greatest master of that mere
political craft and that management of men for the ordinary uses of
politics, as we employ the word, that the country has yet produced. He
was a sage of human nature. It was this quality, combined with many
other qualities, and the existence of certain conditions, that made
him the power that he was. From a practical point of view, what he
said about men was always worth while.
"No, I don't consider him effective," said this great politician when
asked his opinion of a certain very prominent man in public life, who
had just entered, and who was chatting and occasionally laughing with
some boisterousness. "Really, he talks too much. Not that he betrays
his confidences; not even that he annoys, for what he says is always
bright; but--he talks too much; that is all."
"It
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