t,
and not in the lifting of the kettle lid, that the steam engine was
born. There are no accidents in the progress of science.
In the same way, we are asked to believe that Galileo discovered the
telescope, Whitney the cotton gin, and Howe the sewing machine.
But there have been some curious cases of chance fortune. A man out
hunting in California made a mis-step and was plunged into a deep
gulch in the Sierra Nevada. His gun was broken and he was sorely
bruised, but he was more that repaid for the accident by the
discovery of a rich gold mine at the bottom.
What would you think of the man, who, because of this, should
shoulder a gun and go into the mountains, hoping to be precipitated
into a gulch full of gold. If he started out for this purpose, of
course, the element of chance would be eliminated, and yet that man
would show just as much good sense as do the thousands who go through
life--trusting to luck, and hoping for a miracle that never comes.
Success may be unforeseen, but it is a rare thing for it to come to
the man who has not been preparing for it.
Lord Bacon well says: "Neither the naked hand nor the understanding,
left to itself, can do much; the work is accomplished by instruments
and helps, of which the need is not less for the understanding than
the hand."
The Romans had a saying which is as true to-day as when first
uttered: "Opportunity has hair in front, behind she is bald; if you
seize her by the forelock, you may hold her, but if suffered to
escape, not Jupiter himself can catch her again."
Accident does very little toward the production of any great result
in life. Though sometimes what is called "a happy hit" may be made by
a bold venture, the common highway of steady industry and application
is the only safe road to travel. It is said of the landscape painter,
Wilson, that when he had nearly finished a picture in a tame, correct
manner, he would step back from it, his pencil fixed at the end of a
long stick, and after gazing earnestly on the work, he would suddenly
walk up and by a few bold touches give a brilliant finish to the
painting. But it will not do for everyone who would produce an
effect, to throw his brush at the canvas in the hope of producing a
picture. The capability of putting in these last vital touches is
acquired only by the labor of a life; and the probability is, that
the artist who has not carefully trained himself beforehand, in
attempting to produce a bril
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