When David, the painter, was commissioned to paint his picture of Napoleon crossing the Alps, he asked the First Consul to name a day when he would sit. “Sit!” said Bonaparte; “to what good? Do you suppose the great men of antiquity sat for their portraits?” “But I paint you for your own times, for men who have known and seen you; they expect a good likeness.” “A good likeness! It is not the exactitude of the features, the little wart on the nose, that makes a likeness. What ought to be painted is the character of the physiognomy. No one inquires if the portraits of great men are alike; it is quite enough if they manifest their genius.”—Magazine of Art.
(1205)
GENIUS, SECOND RATE
If a man can not be a great genius, is it worth his while to be a little one? Some learned men say not. Of the poets who flourished and were famous a hundred years ago, how many are known now? Of all the bright volumes that brought fame to their authors and made the booksellers of old wealthy, how many can we find upon the shelves of the bookstores to-day? Only a few. And yet, their authors, lauded by friends and flattered by reviews, threw all their souls into their songs, and fondly dreamed of earthly immortality. The fittest survive, and the world has sorted them out with unerring judgment. From the good it has taken the best, and we are thankful. But these little geniuses—did they live their lives in vain because they are forgotten now? Was all their music meaningless, and did the world never miss it when their harps were silent? They fulfilled their mission; their songs went home to human hearts and quickened them with feeling. They sang as sang the birds—brief, tender songs that made the world glad for a day; and tho their names are now unknown, their graves unmarked, their work has not been unrewarded. So let the little geniuses be of good cheer; their footsteps may not go echoing down the ages, but they may sound very pleasantly in the pathways of to-day. If they feel that they must sing, let no man say them nay; there will be ears to listen, voices to applaud, and hearts to feel. The world needs the low, soft notes of the humble singer, the homely harpings of the little poet, as a rest from the deep bass of the bards sublime.—Atlanta Constitution.
(1206)
GENIUS SHOULD BE FAVORED
A man of genius is so valuable a product that he ought to be secured at all cost; to be kept like a queen-bee in a hothouse, fed upon happiness and stimulated in every way to the greatest possible activity. To expose him to the same harsh treatment which is good for the hod-carrier and the bricklayer is to indulge in a reckless waste of the means of a country’s greatness. The waste of water-power at Niagara is as nothing compared with the waste of brain-power which results from compelling a man of exceptional qualifications to earn his own living.—Joel Benton, Lippincott’s.
(1207)
See [Great Men Should be Provided For].
GENIUS THE GIFT OF GOD