fied his inferiority to the others. But then, in this case, that which was absolutely the worst was the best for the particular case. The people wanted a horse with three legs; and when such an animal presented itself, they very naturally preferred him to the other horses which had four legs. The horses with four legs naturally complained of the choice, and thought themselves badly used when the screw was taken in preference. They were wrong. There are places for which a rough man is better than a smooth one, a dirty man than a clean one, in the judgment (that is) of the people who have the filling up of the place. I certainly think their judgment is wrong. But it is their judgment, and of course they act upon it.

As regards the attainment of very great and unusual wealth by business or the like, it is very plain how much there is of luck. A certain degree of business talent is of course necessary in the man who rises in a few years from nothing to enormous wealth; but it is Providence that says who shall draw the great prize,- for other men with just as much ability and industry entirely fail. Talent and industry in business may make sure, unless in very extraordinary circumstances, of decent success; but Providence fixes who shall make four hundred thousand a year. The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor riches to men of understanding—that is, their riches are not necessarily in proportion to their understanding. Trickery and cheating, not crossed by ill luck, may gain great wealth. I shall not name several instances which will occur to every one. But I suppose, my friend, that you and I would cut off our right hand before we should Get On in worldly wealth by such means as these. You must make up your mind, however, that you will not be envious when you see the fine house and the horses and carriages of some successful trickster. All this indeed might have been had, but you would not have it at the price. That worldly success is a great deal too dear which is to be gained only by sullying your integrity. And I gladly believe that I know many men whom no material bribe would tempt to what is mean or dishonest.

There is something curious in the feeling which many people cherish towards an acquaintance who becomes a successful man. Getting On gives some people mortal offense. To them success is an unpardonable crime. They absolutely hate the man that Gets On. Timon, you remember, lost the affection of those who

knew him when he was ruined; but depend upon it, there are those who would have hated Timon much worse had he suddenly met some great piece of good fortune. I have said that envious and malicious people can better bear the success of a man whom they do not know. They cannot stand it when an old school companion shoots ahead. They cannot stand it when a man in their own profession attains to eminence. They diligently thwart such a one's plans, and then chuckle over their failure, saying, with looks of deadly malice: "Ah, this will do him a great deal of good!"

But now, my reader, I am about to stop. Let me briefly sum up my philosophy of Getting On. It is this: A wise man in this world will not set his heart on Getting On, and will not push very much to Get On. He will do his best, and humbly take, with thankfulness, what the Hand above sends him. It is not worth while to push. The whole machinery that tends to earthly success is so capricious and uncertain in its action that no man can count upon it, and no wise man will. A chance word, a look, the turning of a straw, may make your success or mar it. A man meets you on the street and asks, Who is the person for such a place, great or small? You suddenly think of somebody and say, He is your man; and the thing is settled. A hundred poor fellows are disappointed. You did not know about them, or their names did not occur to you. You put your

hand into a hat, and drew out a name. You stuck a hook into your memory and this name came out. And that has made the man's fortune. And the upshot of the whole matter is, that such an infinitude of little fortuitous circumstances may either further or prevent our Getting On; the whole game is so complicated that the right and happy course is humbly to do your duty and leave the issue with God. Let me say it again: "Seekest thou great things for thyself? Seek them not!" It is not worth while. All your seeking will not make you sure of getting them; the only things you will make sure of will be fever and toil and suspense. We shall not push or scheme or dodge for worldly success. We shall succeed exactly as well; and we shall save ourselves much that is wearisome and degrading. Let us trust in God, my friend, and do right, and we shall Get On as much as he thinks good for us. And it is not the greatest thing to Get On-I mean, to Get On in matters that begin and end upon this world. There is a progress in which we are sure

of success if we earnestly aim at it, which is the best Getting
On of all. Let us "grow in grace." Let us try, by God's aid,
to grow better, kinder, humbler, more patient, more earnest to
do good to all. If the germ of the better life be implanted in
us by the blessed Spirit, and tended by him day by day; if we
trust our Savior and love our God, then our whole existence,
here and hereafter, will be a glorious progress from good to bet-
ter.
We shall always be Getting On.

From "The Commonplace Philosopher in
Town and Country.»

B

ROBERT BOYLE

(1627-1691)

OERHAAVE calls Robert Boyle "the ornament of his age and country," the successor of Bacon, and a philosopher "to whom we owe the secrets of fire, air, water, animals, vegetables, fossils." Although his fame as a scientist has long been eclipsed by the work of those who owed their ability to succeed largely to his efforts as a pioneer in chemistry and physics, he had a genius, well illustrated in his contemplations of "A Glow Worm in a Phial" which would not allow him to be forgotten even if he could cease to be remembered as the discoverer of Boyle's Law of the Elasticity of Air. He was the seventh son of the Earl of Cork. Born at Lismore Castle, Ireland, January 25th, 1627, he inherited from his father the manor of Stalbridge, where he spent much of his time in close retirement, devoted to scientific studies and experiments. He was one of the founders of the Royal Society, and in 1680 was chosen its president. Between 1654 and 1668 he lived at Oxford, and while there improved the air pump. One of his scientific essays excited Swift's bitter humor, and, it is said, gave him his first suggestion of "Gulliver's Travels." Boyle died December 30th, 1691. Among his numerous works are "Tracts about the Cosmical Qualities of Things," 1670; "Essays on the Origin and Virtue of Gems," 1672; "Essays on the Strange Subtlety, etc., of Effluvia," 1673; "The Excellence of Theology," 1673; "The Saltness of the Sea, etc.," 1674; "Some Considerations about the Reconcilableness of Reason and Religion," 1675; "Experiments about the Mechanical Origin or Production of Particular Qualities," 1676; "Historical Account of a Degradation of Gold by an Anti-Elixir," 1678; "Discourse of Things above Reason," 1681; "Memoirs on the Natural History of Human Blood," 1684; "Essay in the Great Effects of Even, Languid, and Unheeded. Motion," 1690; "Of the High Veneration Man's Intellect Owes to God," 1690; "The Christian Virtuoso," 1690; and "Free Inquiry into the Vulgarly Received Notion of Nature," 1691.

I'

ON A GLOW WORM IN A PHIAL

F THIS unhappy worm had been as despicable as the other reptiles that crept up and down the hedge whence I took him, he might as well as they have been left there still, and his own obscurity as well as that of the night had preserved him from the confinement he now suffers. And if, as he sometimes for a pretty while withdrew that luminous liquor, that is as it were the candle to this dark lanthorn, he had continued to forbear the disclosing of it, he might have deluded my search and escaped his present confinement.

Rare qualities may sometimes be prerogatives without being advantages. And though a needless ostentation of one's excellencies may be more glorious, yet a modest concealment of them is usually more safe, and an unseasonable disclosure of flashes of wit may sometimes do a man no other service than to direct his adversaries how they may do him a mischief.

And as though this worm be lodged in a crystalline prison, through which it has the honor to be gazed at by many eyes, and among them are some that are said to shine far more in the day than this creature does in the night, yet no doubt, if he could express a sense of the condition he is in, he would bewail it, and think himself unhappy in an excellency which procures him at once admiration and captivity, by the former of which he does but give others a pleasure, while in the latter he himself resents a misery.

This ofttimes is the fate of a great wit, whom the advantage he has of ordinary men in knowledge, the light of the mind exposes to so many effects of other men's importunate curiosity as to turn his prerogative into a trouble; the light that ennobles him tempts inquisitive men to keep him as upon the score we do this glow worm from sleeping, and his conspicuousness is not more a friend to his fame than an enemy to his quiet, for men allow such much praise but little rest. They attract the eyes of others, but are not suffered to shut their own, and find that by a very disadvantageous bargain they are reduced for that imaginary good called fame, to pay that real blessing, liberty.

And as though this luminous creature be himself imprisoned in so close a body as glass, yet the light that ennobles him is not thereby restrained from diffusing itself, so there are certain