Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1928-07-18
Interests are what make life.

interests are what make life.
One need not 60 to the extent OF
George Makington, who has only one
interest, and who talks all his friends
stupefied with 1t.
The interest of George in his one sub
ject would be magnificent II 1t didn't
make for mutiny.
1t would be stupendous If 1t were not
ridiculous.
In his youth, and has never got over 1t
enough to become interested In anything
else
He sells sewing machines, he talks
sewing machines. he lives, eats and
bresthes sewing machines.
From the moment he gets up until
the second he drops 10 sleep Warrington
Is concerned with sewing machines. f1rst
last and all the time.
II he is lunching with you, and you
innocently breach the popular subject
Of the moment, politics. George listens
with ill-concealed lack OF interest.
II there are others at the table their
conversation may force him to be quiet,
He may even 60 to the extent of throw
ing In few unimportaat ideas, but he
does 1t with evident III grace. as II pub
licly resenting the intrusion Of any other
matter In the grand world OF his hopes,
dreams and aspirations.
He genuinely believes that his sub
iect is the greatest in the world. He
can quote statistics to prove IL. He Is
able to paint word pictures of what the
world would be like without sewing ma
chimes. which would inspire roughnecks
picking tunnel through the mountains
to Immediately order gross.
-
Such an interest as this Is unwhole-
some and is not the sort of sorts we
mean when we so solemnly declared
that interests are what make life.
We used the plural purpoSely, In or
der to bring home the necessity, as we
see 1t. for a superiority of interests.
More than one is necessary In such
world as this.
Just how any one can be interested
only In sewing machine, as wonderful
as those contraptions are. is beyond us.
Nor do we care much for the inno-
cent belief on the part of many that all
the great things in the world have been
accomplished by men possessing such
single-track minds.
Maybe so.
The sad truth remains that most of
us, no matter how great our ability to
appreciate the greatness of the great,
are not great In and of ourselvesi
This Is the saddest, most necessary
learning that any one must ever learn,
This is. II the truth were known the
only philosophers stone, When we
started out--alas, so many years ago
we dreamed high dreams and thought
great thoughts. and determined to be
great or bust. But somehow the years
got ahold OF us: life seized us from
too many unexpected quarters; power
gave us a kick from one angle and
favor from another; so between them
all we began to suspect something.
What we suspected was the awful,
simple fact that we were not and
hardly ever would be great with that
ultimate greatness which carried the
heroes and wonder workers of the past
to the pinnacles of human wisdom or
achievement.
Yet the solacing thing out OF the
wreck of dreams was the recognition
of virtues which hitherto We had little
suspected and would not have given
much credit to IL We had. Now we
cherish them eagerly with true pride.
since they are doubly dear to US as
all that we have left of our former
dreams.
One OF the best of these remaining
virtues is catholic interest in life and
all that life means When We see
George Warrington we thank God that
we are not like him. We are glad that
the great, rushing pageant OF this life
does not leave ns cold, but thrills us