He would not
spend a lifetime thinking of nothing beyond the weather, the ball-score,
his clothes, and his ailments. He wants to think big thoughts, and he
would have stars to guide him. He knows that a man is as high, as broad,
and as deep as his thoughts, and that if he would grow big in his
thinking he must have big objects to engage his thoughts. He would
explore the infinite spaces, commune with the planets in their courses,
attain the sublime heights where the masters have wrought, and discover,
if possible, the sources of power, genius, and inspiration. He would
find delight in the colors of the rainbow, the glory of the morning, and
the iridescence of the dewdrop. He would train his thoughts to scan the
spaces behind the clouds, to transcend the snow-capped mountain, and to
penetrate the depths of the sea. He would visualize creation, evolution,
and the intricate processes of life. So he must have stars in his world.
=Books.=--In addition to all these he must have books in his world, and
he is cognizant of the fact that his neighbors judge both himself and
his world by the character of the books he selects. He may select _Mrs.
Wiggs_ or _Les Miserables_. If he elects to have about him books of the
cabbage patch variety, he condemns himself to that sort of reading for a
whole lifetime. Nor is any redemption possible from such standards save
by his own efforts. Neither men nor angels can draw him up to the plane
of Victor Hugo if he elects to abide in the cabbage patch.
Pages:
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264