The Lesson of a Life.
The late George du Maurier was an example of a man who worked his way to fame and fortune. True, when just turned sixty he had a wonderful "run of luck," but it is to be remembered that his genius had been present all the long up-hill years before sixty. The trouble was, the world would not see it.
Daniel Webster, upon the conclusion of the greatest effort of his life, that wonderful speech in the United States Senate, was congratulated on being able to make such a speech off-hand. Asked if it really was extempore, as it appeared, he replied, "Yes, but I have been all my life preparing it."
It was much this way with the late novelist. Du Maurier wrote and the world applauded. Quite simple. Quite easy. Not so. Du Maurier studied for many, many years, and faced discouragements that would have sent weaker men to the wall. Like Webster, his effort at last seemed almost "extempore" in spite of the fact that his custom was to write, rewrite, tear up, write again and change; but he had been all his life a student, a patient toiler, piling up a capital of experience, not knowing whether he should ever be able to realize any thing from it or not. In spite of Du Maurier's phenomenal success near the close of his life, his personal history is a lesson to young persons in this: That the price of success must be paid, just as the price must be paid for land, for gold, or for anything else of value.