e his
flesh and enable himself to become once more the romantic figure he was in
his youth. For, while the fat man may be a master of comedy, and while he
may be a ruler of the people, he is not romantic. The big fellows do not
well sustain romantic roles, except in grand opera, where nearly
everything but the music is illusion and elusive. Our novelists all tell
us that as soon as a man's girth begins to increase, he looks ridiculous
in a fine frenzy. J.M. Barrie makes a very keen point of this in his story
of Tommy and Grizel. It was the increasing size of his waist band that
drove poor Tommy to such extreme measures as to cause his final downfall
and death. His one great aim in life was to be romantic, and when the lady
of his desires giggled about his increasing size it was too much.

Scientific research, philosophy, and the more strenuous and concentrated
forms of mental activity seem to require a certain degree of asceticism in
order to be wholly efficient. We are told that the person who feeds too
well causes his mind to grow rather ponderous in its movements. He is
inclined to fall asleep if he remains quiet and practices severe mental
concentration for too long a time.

HE PLANS WORK FOR OTHERS

If, therefore, the fat man cannot work at physical labor, if he is not
fitted for romance, if he is incapacitated by his love of the good things
of life for severe mental labor, what can he do to fill his purse, supply
his table, clothe his portly person, and surround himself with the
elegancies and luxuries which are so dear to his heart?

Evidently the fat man found out long ago that the eager, active, restless,
energetic, muscular, raw-boned soldier and workman was far more interested
in the exercise of his muscles and in outdoor activity than he was in
securing niceties and luxuries. He also learned that the thinker, the
philosopher, the scientific experimenter, and all who took delight in
mental effort were more deeply interested in their studies, in their
research, in their philosophies, and in their religions than they were in
money, food, clothing, and shelter. So he set about it, with his jovial
personality, his persuasiveness, and keen sense of values, to organize the
thinkers and philosophers under his direction, so that he could take and
use for himself the product of their mental labors. He was perfectly
willing to agree to feed and take care of them, to clothe and shelter
them, in return for what they c