It Is The Penalty Of Fame That

Man Is Concentric: You Have To Take Fold After Fold Off Of Him Before You Get To The Centre Of His Personality. You Must Get Below His Animal Nature, Habits, Customs, Affections, Daily Life, And Sometimes Go Away Down Into The Heart Of The Man, Before You Know What Is Really In Him. But When You Get Into The Last Core Of These Concentric Rings Of Personality You Find A Sense Of The Infinite-a Consciousness Of Immortality Linked To Something Higher And Better.

Why, Man Of Idleness, Labor Has Rocked You In The Cradle, And Nourished Your Pampered Life; Without It, The Woven Silk And The Wool Upon Your Bank Would Be In The Shepherd's Fold. For The Meanest Thing That Ministers To Human Want, Save The Air Of Heaven, Man Is Indebted To Toil; And Even The Air, In God's Wise Ordination, Is Breathed With Labor.

The Mere Leader Of Fashion Has No Genuine Claim To Supremacy; At Least, No Abiding Assurance Of It. He Has Embroidered His Title Upon His Waistcoat, And Carries His Worth In His Watch Chain; And, If He Is Allowed Any Real Precedence For This It Is Almost A Moral Swindle,--a Way Of Obtaining Goods Under False Pretences.

The Greatest Successes Grow Out Of Great Failures. In Numerous Instances The Result Is Better That Comes After A Series Of Abortive Experiences Than It Would Have Been If It Had Come At Once; For All These Successive Failures Induce A Skill Which Is So Much Additional Power Working Into The Final Achievement.... The Hand That Evokes Such Perfect Music From The Instrument Has Often Failed In Its Touch, And Bungled Among The Keys.... Every Disappointed Effort Fences In And Indicates The Only Possible Path Of Success, And Makes It Easier To Find.

Objects Close To The Eye Shut Out Much Larger Objects On The Horizon; And Splendors Born Only Of The Earth Eclipse The Stars. So A Man Sometimes Covers Up The Entire Disk Of Eternity With A Dollar, And Quenches Transcendent Glories With A Little Shining Dust.