Culture by self-help in a literary, an academic or an oratorical career

Front matter

Class

Book

CoEyiightl?.

Preface

from any other composition I had so far read. I think it is always so with a book that is of any value. There is something in it, too, which appeals to every reader, and that seems addressed to him individually; and my hope is that this little book will contain at least one chapter which appeals to the mind of everyone that reads it, and which will afford him some light or guidance in his efforts toward a useful and honorable career. I have put into my work just such things as I myself, in earlier years, would have profited by the knowledge of; and I trust that it will not only save many a young man from the blunders I made myself, but show him the best methods to secure success. It is not necessary that the reader should begin at the first chapter and read to the end; he may choose any chapter whose caption attracts him; and by so doing he will probably go farther and fare better than if he attempted a regular and complete reading of the book. At any rate, after two or three chapters the reader should think over the subject matter and let it digest before going to the next.

For the privilege of printing these chapters in one volume I desire to acknowledge my indebtedness to the editors of the periodicals in which they first appeared — to Dr. J. M. Buckley, Editor of the Christian Advocate; to Morris Phillips, Esq., Editor of the Home Journal; and to Miss Maria B. Chapin, Editor of Far and Near, a monthly paper published by the Critic Company.

R. W.

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. — The Homes and Haunts of Genius 7 H. — Choosing a Profession — How Men

find out where their talent lies. . . 17 HI. — What Genius is — The late Discussion concerning it 24

Chapter I. The Homes And Haunts Of Genius

LEIGH HUNT used to go out of his way, even while very tired, in order to walk through Gold Street, where Dryden had lived, and thus give himself " the shadow of a pleasant thought." " I can no more pass through Westminster without thinking of Milton," he says, " or the Borough without thinkof Chaucer and Shakespeare, or Gray's Inn without calling Bacon to mind, or Bloomsbury Square without Steele and Akenside, than I can prefer bricks and mortar to wit and poetry, or not see a beauty upon them beyond architecture, in the splendor of the recollection." Many others, themselves men of eminence, have looked upon the homes of genius in a similar spirit. " It is a sort of gratification," says Richard Cobden, writing from Burns's birthplace to his brother Frederick, " which I am sure you can imagine, but which I cannot describe, to feel conscious of treading upon the same spot of earth.

s

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of viewing the same surrounding objects, and of being sheltered by the same roof, as one who equally astonished and delighted the world."

There is perhaps no finer trait in the character of a young man than this interest in and regard for all that pertains to a great man ; for it indicates a noble soul, capable of high things. Besides, something of the veryair and spirit of a noble life are apt to be caught in contemplating the place and the surroundings of its origin. Histories may be read in houses, walls, streets, as well as in books; and I am inclined to think that most young men of generous nature, especially those who have devoted some time to the study of literature, would, under like circumstances, be inspired with feelings similar to those of Hunt and Cobden. "Superior souls, " says Mr. Alger, "find nothing else in the universe so attractive as a superior soul. " Even the ground they tread on, and the air they breathe, become consecrated to those who are familiar with their life and work.

There is a season, in the life of every young man who has enjoyed some degree of culture, when the men who have "astonished and delighted the world" exercise an irresistible fascination over him. Then the lives and works of the heroes of art and literature, their struggles and triumphs, are regarded with intense interest, and their words are quoted at every turn. Who has not known the young enthusiast brimful of Shakespeare, Scott, or Schiller? Who has not known the youthful admirer of Michael Angelo, of Hogarth, or Thorwaldsen ready to sacrifice everything to be able to visit the homes of these great geniuses ! It is in this season that a visit to the home or birthplace of genius becomes a source not only of exquisite pleasure, but of the highest

THE HOMES AND HAUNTS OF GENIUS. 9

culture. For the daily walks and common surroundings of finely-touched spirits speak to him in a "various language," and enable him to catch a glimpse of those secret springs of thought, those "obstinate questionings of sense and outward things," which were perhaps the inspiring causes of many a noble, many a grand conception. To see Europe, therefore, at such a life-season, is, to an American, as good as a liberal education ; and happy is he who can accomplish it.

Well do I remennber how I, too, used to dream of making this trip to Europe, and of seeing those ancient towns and cities consecrated by their association with genius, with the lives and works of men and women of whom I had often read, and whose writings were still the consolation and the joy of my leisure hours. The realization of this dream I considered the most desirable thing in the world, and lived in delightful anticipation of it. By the course of my reading I had become familiar with the haunts of Steele and Addison, of Dryden and Pope, of Johnson and Burke, of Lamb, Coleridge and Hood, and I longed to see them with my own eyes. I knew the schools they studied in, the streets they walked in, the houses they lived in, and the inns and coffee-houses they most frequently visited ; in fact, that centre of all that is consecrated to genius, world-famous London, was as familiar to me as New York or Boston. I used to wander in imagination through Fleet street and the Strand, where Johnson and Savage walked all night for want of a bed ; through the poet's corner in Westminster Abbey, where so many famous and beloved poets are now enshrined in marble effigies ; through the halls of parliament, where Fox, Pitt, Burke and Sheridan so often shone in all the splendor of eloquence ; through lO CULTURE BY SELF-HELP.

the ill-omened and thick-walled Tower, where Raleigh, Surrey, and so many other gifted and heroic souls suffered for truth or liberty ; through the rooms of the Boar's Head and the Mermaid Tavern, where Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and Francis Beaumont were wont to have their merry meetings and their wit combats ; and I imagined I saw these famous poets in their old smoky, candle-lit dens, discussing poetry, art and politics over their flowing cups, and leaving behind them an intellectual air

Which alone Was able to make the next two companies Right witty.

How swiftly and cheaply we can travel in imagination ! how completely free from all annoying circumstances ! and how pleasing and interesting everything looks to us ! What a pleasant ride was that from London to Stratford, in an old-fashioned stage-coach, with jolly companions and a good-natured, garrulous old Jehu, who cracked his whip and blew his horn at every stopping-place! Every striking object on the road I marked as things on which the eye of Shakespeare might have rested; and stopped of course at Bucks, where he "took the humor of the constable in ' Much Ado About Nothing, ' which is on the road from London to Stratford. " After feasting my eyes on everything in that ancient little town of Stratford, in which the poet was born and bred, and in which he passed his declining years ; after reverentially examining that sacred little cottage in Henley street, still carefully preserved, in which his youthful years were passed, and in which he must have learned, especially from his gentle mother, those lessons of filial love and devotion which

THE HOMES AND HAUNTS OF GENIUS. II

he subsequently turned to so good account, I strolled through the surrounding fields and forests, and, like Orlando, passed a golden day- Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy.

Then "a. change came o'er the spirit of my dream," and I found myself in Paris, chasing all manner of fancies up and down those streets rendered famous by great historical events, and hallowed by the genius of Moliere, Corneille, Racine, Bossuet, Voltaire and F6nelon. After wandering through the scenes of their greatest triumphs, and looking with reverence on those splendid temples in which their eloquence and genius were first displayed, I strolled into the less frequented streets, and found old houses with such inscriptions as these: "Ici naquit Moliere;" "Voici la demeure de Lafontaine. "

After this I sped away to Germany, that land of poetry and romance, where some of the most fascinating characters in history and literature have lived, and where some of the most romantic and 4:ale-haunted spots on earth are situated ; and here I saw, not only the grand scenery of the Rhine, with its historic castles and legendary towers, but Cologne with its narrow streets and marvellously beautiful cathedral, Mayence with its famous fortifications and its time-worn statues of Faust and Gutenberg, Weimar and Jena with their interesting memorials of Schiller and Goethe, and Leipsic with its many associations of Lessing and Richter. In all these places I saw in imagination not only the streets and houses in which these great men lived and moved, but the very rooms in which they studied, the books they used, the gardens in which they walked, and the convivial resorts in which they so frequently "set the table on a roar." Among the students of the universities I conjured up a new generation of Lessings, Schillers, Koerners, Gbethes and Richters, all animated by the fire of genius, sparkling with wit and humor, and brimful of the newest ideas on art, literature and science; and with these I passed such disputatious days and convivial nights that I subsequently exclaimed with Cowley :

We spent them not in toys, in lusts, or wine,

But search of deep philosophy,

Wit, eloquence and poesy ; Arts which I loved ; for they, my friends, were thine.

While still young, I was fortunate enough, after ten years of hard, unremitting toil, to realize my dream to a certain extent. I crossed the great ocean ; saw the homes of my ancestors ; lived for months in London, Paris, Munich and Frankfort ; roamed through the cities consecrated by the genius of Shakespeare, Burns, Moliere, Kaulbach and Goethe; spoke with their countrymen in their native tongue, saw their plays performed and their pictures exhibited on their native soil, and ate and drank and talked with the people by whom they had been surrounded. When I came into the city of Frankfort I thought little of the circumstance that it was the historic city in which Charlemagne convened his councils, or in which the German emperors were crowned; I thought only of the fact that it was the home and birthplace of Germany's greatest poet, the city in which Goethe was born and bred, and in which his youth and early manhood were passed, and a hundred things in his life and writings came up at sight of the place. These are the streets and the scenes, thought I, with which the poet was familiar; these are the

THE HOMES AND HAUNTS OF GENIUS. 1 3

houses, the squares, the gardens which his eyes rested on ; this is the city in which he conceived and worked out so many marvellously beautiful productions ; this is the country where Marguerite and Faust, Egmont and Clarchen, Wilhelm Meister and Mignon, and all the interesting characters of "Hermann and Dorothea" lived and had their being, and I imagined I saw their types among the people by whom I was surrounded. The recollection of the sayings and doings of these everliving characters rendered every spot I trod on enchanted ground, and I now thought I could realize the truth of Goethe's own remarkable declaration :

He who the poet's speech •would understand, Himself must go into the poet's land.

What added, too, not a little to the fascination of the place was the fact that I found the house in which the poet was born and bred still standing just as he left it, with many of his manuscripts, pictures, drawings, books and articles of furniture still remaining therein and open to the inspection of strangers. What a thrill of pleasure the sight of these things gave me ! Through the kindness of my lamented and ever-valued friend. Dr. Wittstock, I was invited to the annual dinner in commemoration of the poet's birthday, where I became a participant in the finest "feast of reason and flow of soul" I ever enjoyed, and heard the wittiest, most fascinating speaker I ever heard. I have forgotten his name (it was something like Conweg), but remember he was a Mayence physician, and that the dinner was at the "Englischen Hof," and presided over by Dr. Volger.

Schiller's birthplace I did not see, although I passed a week at Stuttgart, which is not far from Marbach, where the house in which he was born is still standing, with a tablet over the door commemorating that event. '"Tis true, 'tis pity; and pity 'tis, 'tis true," I was within a mile of Marbach town, and could have seen where the gentle dramatic poet was born and where he passed his early years ; but circumstances, or perhaps that feeling of indifference which is bred of much sight-seeing, prevented me from doing so, and I have ever since regretted that I did not avail myself of the opportunity.

Those places and objects which I did see, however, made such a favorable impression upon me that I still remember them with pleasure, and I am now glad that my youthful curiosity was to some extent gratified. For before settling down to the serious work of life, or becoming tied by business or family cares, it is good to see something of the great world, otherwise one is apt to hanker all his life after that which it is impossible to gratify.

I have always admired the English practice of sending the university student, after the completion of his studies, on a tour of the Continent, to see the most famous persons, places and things at his command, and to become acquainted with the habits and manners of the best society abroad. Lord Chesterfield's son, who had had such fine opportunities of this kind, I had often envied ; and although I could not travel in the comfortable way in which this young gentleman travelled, nor enjoy half the advantages he enjoyed, I determined to see the Continent in the best way I could. I remembered that Goldsmith had travelled over a great part of France and Italy with nothing but his flute and his wits to aid him ; and that Bayard Taylor had gone over a great part of Europe on foot, with nothing but his scanty earnings as a newspaper correspondent to sup-

THE HOMES AND HAUNTS OF GENIUS. 1 5

port him; and I thought that, with a knowledge of three languages and skill in one of the mechanic arts, I might imitate their example without any apprehensions of failure. I had the youthful confidence of Wilhelm Meister, and, like him, thought that

'Tis in truth for wand'ring in it,

That the world was made so wide!

After a long sojourn in England, I wandered into France, where I became a teacher of languages, and succeeded so well that, after a year's experience, I ventured into Germany in the same capacity, and found life so pleasant and my new profession so profitable that I remained almost as many years in Germany as I had at first intended to stay months. It was here that I learnt what teaching means, and what may be done in the way of study ; and it was here that I first tasted the sweets of leisure and culture.

I had, before setting out on my travels, devoted some time to the study of the French and German languages, and had read something of the lives and writings of half a dozen well known French and German writers. ^^ Besides the plays of Racine, Moliere and Corneille, I^'^^^*.,^ had read Pension's "T616maque," Voltaire's "Charles XII.," Le Sage's "Gil Bias," and Bernardin de Saint Pierre's "Paul et Virginie. " I knew something of the lives of Schiller and Goethe — especially through Carlyle's <__, essays and his charming biography of Schiller — something of Jean Paul Richter, of Lessing and of Martin Luther ; and with this marvellous stock of knowledge I considered myself equipped for any emergency. I had the buoyant confidence of youth, and, with such extensive accomplishments, I thought I could go far and see much. Moreover, I innocently imagined that a resil6 CULTURE BV SELF-HELP.

dence in the towns in which these great men had Hved and labored, and a sight of the scenes on which their eyes had rested, would, somehow, influence my mind in such a way as to give me a tinge of the genius which characterized them, or a spark of the fire which animated them.

These were foolish feelings, no doubt ; but they were those of a youth looking toward noble things ; and if Macaulay was not ashamed of his early idolatry of Milton, nor of the fond feelings with which he would have tended on him had he been his contemporary, so need I not be ashamed of my early worship of literary heroes, nor of the dreams which I cherished concerning their lives, homes and haunts.*

* " I am so convinced," says Lord Byron, " of the advantages of looking at mankind, instead of reading about them, and of the bitter effects of staying at home with all the narrow prejudices of an islander, that I think there should be a law compelling us to send all our young men abroad for a time, among the few allies our wars have left us."

" Beneath the rancor of races," said Zola before a meeting of literary men in London, " beneath the accidental hatred of peoples, beneath the interests, the jealousies and the violence which overthrow empires and republics, there exists a peaceful kingdom, vaster than the most vast, immense because it includes them all — the kingdom of human intelligence, of art and letters throughout the universe — humanity. It is in this illimitable kingdom that our Moliere and our Corneille give the hand to your Shakespeare; it is here that great men, from the furthest age down to our own day, meet and fraternize — ^the Homers, the Virgils, the Cervantes, the Byrons, the Goethes, and the Victor Hugos."

Chapter II. Choosing A Profession How Men Find Out

WHERE THEIR TALENT LIES.

MANY young- persons are in an uncertain state of mind as to the nature and extent of their natural abilities, and on this account find it difficult to fix upon the profession or calling which they are to follow for life. This feeling is by no means unnatural ; it is the struggle of youth toward manhood and maturity. Only prodigies know from the start what they are best able to do. The mental powers of every young person, no matter how situated, are in constant process of development, and it is only after a certain stage of this development that one can plainly see wherein his strength lies. Sometimes a man tries two or three professions before he comes to see which is his proper one, or the career for which he is best fitted. This happens not only with men of ordinary, but with men of extraordinary ability. Daniel Defoe was a trader, a soldier, a merchant, a secretary, a factory manager, a commissioner's accountant, an envoy, and what not, before he became an author, in which profession he had the greatest success because it was

1 8 CULTURE BY SELF-HELl>.

that for which he had the greatest talent. And even in this profession he went on improving and developing his talent; for he wrote a cart-load of books before he wrote " Robinson Crusoe." Wilson, the ornithologist, went through a bitter experience in five different professions before he became a student ot ornithology, in which he not only found the greatest happiness of his life, but rendered invaluable service, to the science of natural history.

Sometimes a fortunate accident reveals the sphere wherein one can succeed. " Most men," says Saint Real, " are like plants ; they possess properties which chance discovers." A New York paper lately published an account of the career of six successful theatrical managers, all of whom came to their work by accidental circumstances. They saw their opportunity and took advantage of it. Let me mention one or two examples in other careers. Thomas Erskine, the famous advocate, first entered the navy, in which he spent four years; but finding promotion not sufficiently rapid, he entered the army, in which he served for two or three years, when his regiment happened to be quartered in a town in which the assizes were held. Sauntering into court one day, he was invited to a seat on the bench by the presiding judge, who happened to know him; and, while listening to the pleaders at the bar, he was told that they were at the top of their profession. He began taking their measure, and he made up his mind that he could do at least as well as they did, and immediately began the study of law. The world knows the result. Lord Erskine became lord chancellor, the defender of Queen Caroline, the greatest forensic orator that Britain has known.

CHOOSING A PROFESSION, 1 9

A man may be a born merchant, as well as a born poet or orator ; and this, too, is sometimes discovered by accident. Mr. A. T. Stewart, the millionaire merchant, was educated for the church, which he left for the schoolmaster's desk, and, by the merest accident, found that his real talent fitted him for the shopkeeper's counter. "He greeted me cordially," says the Rev. John Miller, in The Independent, "and told me that he was designed for my profession; that what Greek and Latin he knew was for that purpose; that his early manhood had no other end in view; but that an old uncle had told him that a 'call' was necessary, and had described it in such a way that he recognized he had received no such thing, and felt driven to the choice of the humbler and less interesting work of a professional school teacher. This it was that brought him to the States. His merchant's life was an afterthought. And I learned how this came. He had a small pittance above his expense. He lent it to a passenger, a young man whom he had known in Ireland, who was to be a merchant. Stewart's loan of seventy-eight dollars helped to set him up. And, in a small shop of the city of that day, he strove hard to succeed; but finding that he was about to fail, he persuaded his friend Stewart to quit his school-teaching and take the shop, as the only means of making sure his money. It was in this way that Stewart made the discovery of his gift as a merchant. "

Jonas Chickering was originally a cabinet-maker. Happening to see a piano in a New England town, he felt a strong curiosity to ascertain the secret of its structure. "It was the only one in town," says

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Mr. Endicott, "and so sadly out of tune as to be almost useless ; but he closely inspected it, took it to pieces, discovered its defects, repaired it, and made it fit for use. This incident, trivial except as a mark of genius, had a decisive influence over his destiny. It begot a purpose in his heart to become something more than a journeyman cabinet-maker. In its result, it transformed him from a cabinet-maker into a distinguished manufacturer of pianos." He became a millionaire, and the owner and director of an establishment that turned out thirty pianos a week.

Most young men have little to do with the choice of the profession in which they find themselves. Their parents or guardians choose for them ; and these often choose, not so much with a view to their fitness for the profession, as to its profitableness or prospective advantages. This is, of course, a matter of prime importance; but if inward peace and true profit are looked to, it will be found that a modest income in a congenial profession is preferable by far to the most brilliant pecuniary success in one of a contrary nature.

With those young men who have their professions thus chosen for them, one of two things happens : either they plod on for life in a mediocre way in the arena in which they are placed, or if they have talent, energy and character, they push forward to eminence in their profession, or in some other profession which they like better, and take their place among men of mark. A man of genius, no matter where placed, grows into fitness for his proper sphere. He cuts out a career for himself, in spite of all obstacles or opposition; while his companions jog on in the rut in which they were placed by others. The Hon.

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Jonathan Chace, United States Senator from Rhode Island, displayed in his youth a great fondness for study and books, and one day he told his father that he was almost ready for college. "Jonathan," replied the old man, who was a money-making Quaker, "thou shalt go down to the machine-shop on Monday morning." And to the machine-shop he went, where he remained for many years before he broke loose, and worked his way up to that sphere of life for which his talents fitted him. He became one of the leading men in the Senate.

Mr. E. C. Stedman, in speaking of the facility with, which Oliver Wendell Holmes composed his festive and society verses, says that "what one does easily is apt to be his forte." True; and I might add, that what one likes to do is apt to be his forte. Those scholars who take more willingly to one study than to another may find therein an indication where their talent lies. The wise Shakespeare says :

No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en ; In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

This, therefore, Inclination, is the safest guide to the path in which you are most likely to succeed. What a youth takes a fancy to he is likely to have a talent for; and if he perseveres in it and makes progress in it, his talent is confirmed. I know there are some persons who, because they take a fancy to a certain line of work, devote themselves to it without ever attaining any degree of excellence in it ; but these are people who have more zeal than judgment, or more vanity than either. They are weak in some part of their mental make-up. You may be sure it is not so much the love of the work itself

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that animates or attracts them as the material advantages or the honor and fame they expect to derive from it.

Now the true artist pursues his work without a thought of anything but excellence in the execution of it or the benefit to be conferred by it. Love of fame, "the last infirmity of noble minds," he may indeed possess; but no visions of rank or power ever formed the mainspring of the exertions of a man of genius, or supplied the inspiration by which he produced his work. Some may point to Dean Swift as an exception, but he was an exceptional man in many respects. Swift declared that all his endeavors to distinguish himself "were only to secure a great title and fortune, that he might be treated like a lord by those who had an opinion of his parts." This was his object at one, time; but I am sure that when he was writing "Gulliver's Travels," or the "Tale of a Tub," his delight in his work and his keen anticipation of its effect were far stronger impelling powers than any anticipations of profit or power to be derived from it.

A youth of twelve years, who had played skilfully on the piano, once said to Mozart: " Herr Capellmeister, I should like to compose something ; how shall I begin.?" " Pooh, pooh," said the great composer, "you must wait." "But you began when you were younger than I am." "Yes, so I did," said he; "but I never asked anything about it. When one has the spirit of a composer, he writes because he can't help it."

There Mozart struck the keynote to genius. One who has the ability to accomplish something in art does not need to ask how to begin ; nature teaches him how to begin. He takes to it because he can-

CHOOSING A PROFESSION. 2$

not help it, as naturally as a duck takes to water. It is his dehght to do this thing- and no other ; and this he does for the sake of the work itself, not for what advantage he may get out of it. Even the practical philosopher, the investigator of natural phenomena, does not pursue his investigations for the sake of the honor or profit he may get out of them ; nor even for the benefit of mankind, which is a noble motive in itself; but for the sake of knowing, of finding out, of discovering what was not known before : he investigates because he cannot help it. "That which stirs his pulse," says Mr. Huxley, "is the love of knowledge, and the joy of the discovery of those things sung by the old poets, the supreme delight of extending the realm of law and order ever farther towards the unattainable goals of the infinitely great and the infinitely small, between which our little race of life is run. .... Nothing great in science has ever been done by men, whatever their power, in whom the divine afflatus of the truthseeker was wanting."