The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1896-01-26
THE MAN WHO FAILED.

There was a man who was born into the
world with gift of poesy in his soul. Beauti-
full thoughts throbbed with his life pulsa-
tions, tender emotions and generous impuls-
es swerved him toward nobility. But unfor-
tunate environment or poor physical being,
or perhaps some occult force working to-
ward the eternal good, hampered the ex-
preston of those thoughts and Influenced
their reception, and he became what the
world calls failure. He gave messages TO
the world, and the world was not ready TO
hear. He twined the flowers Of imagery
about commonplace things and small
events, and the heat of derision withered
them. They who set the standard said that
he belittled the art he professed, that one
should stand on plane far above the COM
monalty; one must sing loftily, for, IL so
be he sung heart to heart then might the
familiarity of contact coarsen the delicacy
of art.
But, humble himself. he spoke OF humble
things, Identifying trivialities by fitting them
into their places in the great general plan.
He wrote one song, and in a moment OF
disbursement, he tore Ii and cast the
shreds to the winds. And one coming
after who had not this mans honest intent
or earnest endeavor. found the fragments
and joined together in song of such
sweetness and beauty that the world lis
tened with plaudits.
There was an inner room which sheltered
in seasons of depression He withdrew TO
it when sorely harassed. And there he
found comfort. For an angel dwelt in the
room, whose mission 1t was to minister
unto the sick soul. And the angel told the
man how sweet life was-not merely IN the
earth world, which is but as a prelude to
nobler song; not merely the life which de-
lights in love and pleasant companionship,
but that life which is the burst of sunlight
beyond the valley of the shadow. And he
told him that success is not TO be meas
ured by individual recompense of labor;
that personality must be set aside from
work; that, though others may gather the
harvest, one must not be laggard in the
sowing. He showed him the immortality of
thought A beautiful thought born into
the mental word is like soul born into the
physical world. 1t touches the currents of
life and they eddy on toward the eternal
For, as there is no death of soul, so is
there no death of thought, which is the
raiment of the soul. If it be beautiful and
fruitful of righteousness, then is the soul
purely clothed. If the thought be smirched.
then shall the soul cry out for cleansing
in the day of its shamed awakening. This
the angel told the man, and he came to IN
Outstanding with himself and the world.
The years went on and he grew old. He
did his work faithfully, grateful IL praise
came, but never demanding. He had found
the better way and attained the clearer
sight. He sent his messages TO the world
content If one heart only understood and
was blessed. And the angel came so close
TO him in the inner room that his radiance
fell upon the mans life and his sweetness
permeated his soul like the fragrance Of
a rare flower. They who scoffed at his
lowly efforts did not know the reason of
his calm. They did not know that ne walked
straight in the appointed way, because
an angel beckoned. They did not know that
the angel OF the mans higher life pointed
TO planes which small eartn passions could
never reach; that this angel, instilling rev.
erence for truth, made indifference vr even
persecution endurable for that truths sake;
that this angel, laying gentle balm on
bruised feet brought forgetfulness of the
wound and Of that which inflicted IL.
And his work. well begun in the earth
world, the man went on toward the Country
Beautiful. Resting on the confines, he
locked back and the flowers of his poesy
blew sweetness to him from hearts where
they bloemed And he was content, know
ing that his small individuality had I'M
press in the universal good. And so. though
the world counted him a failure-to God,
who recognized the largeness Of soul ana
steadfastness of purpose and loyalty TO
truth in the mans service, he was not a
failure. Nearing the Country Beautiful. he
looked again, and the shadows fell fast
over the earth. A faint doubt disturbed.
What If there be shadows on the work he
had left? But the angel whispered: IF
God be for US. who can be against? Not
height OF land nor depth or sea, nor any
thing in all the world can make for evil
II He be with U.s." He pointed to the
vanishing earth. Back there, what mat
ter" he asked, ''if one be accounted failure
or success? Is the souls success measured
by a brief span Of years? Is not God In
good works? And is not good eternal? Be
content, Oh soul.'' OLLAH TOPH.