A Little Matter of Tongue.
Clover, so they say, was a flat failure at first in Australia. It grew. O yes, it grew beautifully; but it wouldn't seed. It evidently liked the soil and the air and the rain and the sun of Australia, but the clover wouldn't propagate itself. What were they to do about it?
Well, this is what they did: they went to a scientific man. The "practical farmer" whose pride is his ignorance of "book larnin' " had done his best, and his worst. It was "book larnin's" turn.
The wise man put on his specs, and said, "Bring me a clover head." So they brought him a clover head.
Then he said, "Fetch me a bee." So, wondering, they fetched him a bee.
Then he began to squint through a microscope at the clover head and at the bee's head.
At last the wise man laughed. He sent off to the other side of the world, whence the clover came, and said, "Send me some bees." So they sent him some bees.
Then he let his imported bees loose, and lo! as these new bees multiplied, the clover began to seed and multiply, and became one of the most valuable crops in the Island Continent.
And why? Just because the tongues of the Australian bees had been too short to reach down the long, tube-shaped petals, and touch the pollen there, and carry it thus from one clover head to another, fructifying the field. The imported bees had longer tongues.
So hurray for heads! Hurray for the human head that brought the bee's head and the clover head together, and hurray for all thinking headpieces the wide world over!
My brethren: if your work is fruitless; if your life is barren; if, no matter how much toil you put into your task, it seems to make no headway,—remember this parable of the bees. Remember upon how small a matter-a minute fraction of a bee's tongue—success may hang. It's the method you use, as well as your spirit and energy, that determines results. There's much in a beautiful purpose, there's much in a heroic will, but oh, there's a deal in simply knowing how!
An Empty Pen.
You will be writing along smoothly and fluently. Thought after thought comes tripping to the front, and you are having a good time. It is so pleasant to write when one has something to say!
But how when one has nothing with which to say it? For, all of a sudden, your trusty fountain pen begins to write faintly. A few lines further, and the impression has weakened to a mere scratch.
You shake the pen impatiently, and your women folks are lucky if you do not shake it over the carpet. A reluctant drop on the nib of the pen is the result, but it lasts for only a minute, and at the end of it, though you shake with tenfold vigor, nothing comes. The pen has manifestly "gone dry." There is nothing for it but to hunt up the filler and the ink bottle, and set about the dirty and disagreeable task of filling up the reservoir. By the time you have done this, you are hot and flustered, you have quite forgotten what you intended to say next, and you are out of touch with your theme. Oh, it is such a nuisance, when your pen runs dry!
After all, though this fountain pen is a very ingenious contrivance, beautifully finished, admirably adapted for its use, it is absolutely worthless, of no more service than any stick in the cellar, when it contains no ink. As long as it is in that condition, it might as well never have seen the inside of the Patent Office.
And what happens to the fountain pen only occasionally is the perpetual state of some men and women whom I know. They are beautiful instruments, but—empty!
Their faces are lovely, perhaps. Their fresh red lips are finely turned; but when they open them, nothing comes out but platitudes and inanities. Their eyes are bright and beautiful; but they look with more favor upon a vacuum-pated dandy than upon a man of wit, wisdom, and godliness. Soft and shining hair curls entrancingly over a well-formed head; but beneath the skull the brain is-empty! They prattle away by the hour, but in the end it is like writing with a dry fountain pen; the sheet is still an absolute blank. Not even a scratch.
Why is it that so many have understanding enough to see that an empty fountain pen must be filled up, if it is to make any impression in the world, but go through life with the idea that an empty head, not enriched with the fructifying fluid of books and thought, can by exterior attractiveness or by sheer impudence make its fortune and achieve success?
Ex nihilo nihil fit.
He Came From Annapolis.
Congressman Weeks (afterward Senator Weeks), of Massachusetts, was a new man in our national legislature when one day the matter of hazing in the Naval Academy at Annapolis came up. As Captain Weeks had obtained his military training at Annapolis he was urged to speak on the question.
“But I am only a new member," Mr. Weeks objected.
"Never mind," said his colleague. "You may not have a chance in five years to speak on a subject you understand so thoroughly."
Mr. Weeks decided to venture, but was dismayed by the disorder of the House. The members were coming in or going out. Some were conversing with one another. Others were writing. Others were lounging and evidently paying no attention to what was going on. It was the usual state of affairs, but it was discouraging to a beginner.
Nevertheless Mr. Weeks shouted above the racket, "Mr. Speaker, I am a graduate of the Naval Academy at Annapolis."
The effect was magical. The loungers promptly wheeled around and faced him. The men going out stopped short and sat down in the nearest seats. Conversation ceased. The entire House was instantly "at attention."
And why?
Because here was first-hand information. Here was a man who was going to tell what he knew from experience and not merely what he imagined, or had cribbed from books. And on that question, as on every other, Congress wanted the facts.
"Since then," says Congressman Weeks, "I have found that exact knowledge on any subject under discussion will always gain the attention of the House of Representatives." Following out this hint, he has become one of the most influential of all the Representatives.
And it is true everywhere, and not merely in Congress. It is true in business circles, that the man whose advice is heard and heeded is the man that knows conditions. It is true in the prayer meeting, that the man whose words produce an effect upon life is the speaker that speaks out of his life. It is true in society, that the man whose conversation is most sought after is the one who knows what he is talking about. It is true in literature, that the writer who gets the biggest price is the man who has been there, like Peary; the man who has done things, like Roosevelt.
Everywhere and always the fact is at a premium. If you would succeed, never guess, however brilliant your guesses; never "talk through your hat," though your hat is the finest Panama. Go to the central sources of information. Get the bottom facts. Plant yourself solidly upon them. No man can move you from that vantage point, but all men will flock to you. For of all rarities under the sun perhaps the rarest is the man that knows.
Know Your Surroundings.
The writer was seeking the Water Street Mission in New York City, made famous by Jerry McAuley. Emerging from the subway at Brooklyn Bridge, he asked five persons, one after the other, the direction of Water Street. Each of the five pointed in a different direction. Entering a Park Row store, he asked the proprietor the name of the street just below him. The proprietor did not know, but referred to it as "up town." It was toward the Battery, distinctly down town. The writer finally reached the street next to Water Street, as it proved, but was told by two respectable, elderly gentlemen that he was on Water Street, and walked five blocks looking for the mission before he discovered his mistake. He came to the conclusion that, unless he had been very unfortunate, New Yorkers do not know New York.
Find out where you are! Learn your surroundings-not only the streets of the town, but the hills, the trees, the geological formations, the soils, the flowers, the birds, the historic sites. Thus you will enlarge your domain, for what you know about you will enjoy, and in a very real sense you will own.