The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1904-12-04
CHAPTER tx.
NoToR1ETY AND THE GOOD uN-
KNOWN,

,i,.,,,eoi,cs known. and to come forth
from obscurity-sonle are so deVoutea ny
this desire that they may Justly pe saio
IL, he attacked by the Itch for not oriets.
III their eyes obscurity Is the sreatesl
of isnominies; and so they 90 ever VI.
To cause themselves to be renarkeu. NY
consider themselves In their unknown
; quality as lost beings, TO be compared 20
tho wrecks that one night of tempest
thns thrown on some desert rock, ana
who resort to clamors. to detonations, TO
fire. and all Imaginable signals 70 let
people know they are there Not content.
with setting off torpedoes. and nno-
cent fuses. to make themselves known
at any price, they have descehaeu qui.e
to baseness and quite to crime. mo IN
cendiary, 1Grostrate has made numerous
disciples How many in these times nave
become celebrated for having destroyed
something OF marked value, demolished.
or tried to demoish, an illustrious repu-
tation, or show their passage, IN iact,4
by {, scandal. n wickedness, or some re-
sounding barbarity.
This craze for notoricty Is nursed not
only among cracked heads or III the
doubtful financial world-among cllarla-
tans and rascals Of all ranks, but It IS
spread over all tho domains OF the Spirit
ual and material life. Politics, literature,
= charity and religion. have been infested
by this desire for notoriety They blow
trumpets about their good works, and to
convert souls they have Imagined noisy
Il practices. Following the savases. ...e
fever OF noise has gained the ordinarily
silent rereats, troubled the generally we'll
poised minds, and vitated in a large
measure, the activity for good. The abuse
sor showing everything. or more properly
OF spreading everything out; the grow
I ing incapaclty Of approaching that which
remains hidden. and the habit OF meas
uring the value Of things by the noise
they make, has ended by altering the
most serious judgments, and the one asks
oneself at times II society will not end
4 by transforming itself into one vast fair
where each one beats his drum in front
&of his booth.
ss& One quits tho into1erable cacophony and
dust Of these exhibitions willingly, to go
and breathe freely In some lonely valley
where one is surprised to find how limpid
the brook Is. how discreet the forest and
how agreeable the solitude. Thank God,
there are still some aSylums left inviolate.
However formidable the noise may be.
howevere deafening is tho mixture OF
mingled shrill voices. all that can reach
no farther than a certain limit, and then
q it appeases itself and dies out. The
domain of silence Is vaster than that Of
noise. and in that lies our consolation.
AZ Let us step on the threshold Of that In
finite world where dwells the unknown
good. the silent labor. We are, at the
first view, under the charm that we feel
when we first see the immaculate snow
where no foot has trod. the flowers Of the
solitary places, and lost paths which seem
TO go toward the linitless horizon.
The world Is made thus, mat the
springs of9work, the most active agents.
4arc everywhere hidden. Nature puts q
sort of coquetry In thus masking her
works One must take pains to watch
them, and plan to surprise her II one
desires to learn other things than results,
and penetrate the secrets of her labora-
tories. It is the same In human society:
8the forces which are working for good re-
main invisible and are the same III every
one Of our lives, for what we have OF the
best Is not communicable and Is buried
in our profoundest depths. The more
3 energetic these sentiments are, entwlned
even with the very roots OF our nature,
the less they. seek ost entation: they be-
,&leve they would be profaning themselves
lin exposing them to the clear light of
day. There is a secret and inexpresslblc
joy in possessing In oneself a deep inward
W
whose i,npulsion we live, and draw
the spontaneity, and Inc daily re-
newal of our courage and the most power
full motives of outward action. When
this intimate life loses Its .rtenslty, when
man neglects It to care for the surface,
he loses in value all that he gains In APP
pcnrance. BY a sad fatality It also hap
pens that often we are OF less value in,
u the same measure as we are moro adj
1nired. And we remain convinced that
Z that which Is best in the world is that
which we do not know, for only those
know 1t who possess 1t. If they told It
< they would at the same time deprive it
of its perfume.
Some passionate lovers of nature love
h above all in her the farthcst corners In
the depths OF tho forest. In the creylccs
OF the ravines everywhere where the first
confer Is not permitted To contemplate her.
They would remain there days, forgetful
of time and life, In watching bird build
her nest or raise her brood, In these IN
violate solitudcs. or in watching some
wild animal at Its graceful play. 1t is
thus that ono should seek tho good in
himself; there where there is no con-
Etra!nt no studied position. no gallery
I of any sort, but tho simple fact Of a life
which consists OF n wish to be that which
IT Is good that he should DO without trou-
bling himself about anything else.
49, X,
Permit me TO place hero few obscr-
vauons taken from real life Being
anonymous they cannot be considered as
indiscretions.
There Is In my country, Alsace, on
one solitary roud. whose inlerminable
ribbon prolongs itself through the for
ests OF the Fosses. a stone breaker whom
" have seen al his work for thirty years
1.-The irst time ] saw him j. a young
scholar. had started for the great city,
and my heart was fu!l The sight OF
hat man did me good. for he was hum
ming song the while nc was breaking
! the stonts We exchanged few words
anG at the end he said.
Ms boy, good courage and good lnck!'
Since then have often passed and
repasstd over that road In tho most di-
\ Verse circumstances, painful aud happy
Tile scholar made his way; the breaker
of stones remains what ha WAS. lie Ia 4
taken a few more precautions against
the changes OF The sea sons "A straw maj :