Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (top ten books of all time .TXT) 📕

Which Might Afterwards Lead To Their Further Pursuit.  I

Assumed That On The Sunday They Would Be Thinking Of The

Baked Meats Awaiting Them When Church Was Over,  Or Of Their

Week-Day Tops And Tipcats; But I Was Equally Sure That A Time

Would Come When These Would Be Forgotten,  And The Other

Things Remembered.  The Success Was Greater From The

Beginning Than Could Be Looked For; And Some Years Afterwards

I Had Reason To Hope That The Forecast Was Not Altogether Too

Sanguine.

While The Victoria Tower Was Being Built,  I Stopped One Day 

To Watch The Masons Chiselling The Blocks Of Stone. 

Presently One Of Them,  In A Flannel Jacket And A Paper Cap, 

Came And Held Out His Hand To Me.  He Was A Handsome Young

Fellow With A Big Black Beard And Moustache,  Both Powdered

With His Chippings.

'You Don't Remember Me,  Sir,  Do You?'

'Did I Ever See You Before?'

'My Name Is Richards; Don't You Remember,  Sir?  I Was One Of

The Boys You Used To Teach At The Sunday-School.  It Gave Me

A Turn For Mechanics,  Which I Followed Up; And That's How I

Took To This Trade.  I'm A Master Mason Now,  Sir; And The

Whole Of This Lot Is Under Me.'

'I Wonder What You Would Have Been,' Said I,  'If We'd Stuck

To The Collects?'

'I Don't Think I Should Have Had A Hand In This Little Job,'

He Answered,  Looking Up With Pride At The Mighty Tower,  As

Though He Had A Creative Share In Its Construction.

All This While I Was Working Hard At My Own Education,  And

Trying To Make Up For The Years I Had Wasted (So I Thought Of

Them),  By Knocking About The World.  I Spent Laborious Days

And Nights In Reading,  Dabbling In Geology,  Chemistry, 

Physiology,  Metaphysics,  And What Not.  On The Score Of

Dogmatic Religion I Was As Restless As Ever.  I Had An

Insatiable Thirst For Knowledge; But Was Without Guidance.  I

Wanted To Learn Everything; And,  Not Knowing In What

Direction To Concentrate My Efforts,  Learnt Next To Nothing. 

All Knowledge Seemed To Me Equally Important,  For All Bore

Alike Upon The Great Problems Of Belief And Of Existence. 

But What To Pursue,  What To Relinquish,  Appeared To Me An

Unanswerable Riddle.  Difficult As This Puzzle Was,  I Did Not

Know Then That A Long Life's Experience Would Hardly Make It

Simpler.  The Man Who Has To Earn His Bread Must Fain Resolve

To Adapt His Studies To That End.  His Choice Not Often Rests

With Him.  But The Unfortunate Being Cursed In Youth With The

Means Of Idleness,  Yet Without Genius,  Without Talents Even, 

Is Terribly Handicapped And Perplexed.

And Now,  With Life Behind Me,  How Should I Advise Another In

Such A Plight?  When A Young Lady,  Thus Embarrassed,  Wrote To

Carlyle For Counsel,  He Sympathetically Bade Her 'Put Her

Drawers In Order.'

Here Is The Truth To Be Faced At The Outset:  'Man Has But

The Choice To Go A Little Way In Many Paths,  Or A Great Way

In Only One.'  'Tis Thus John Mill Puts It.  Which Will He, 

Which Should He,  Choose?  Both Courses Lead Alike To

Incompleteness.  The Universal Man Is No Specialist,  And Has

To Generalise Without His Details.  The Specialist Sees Only 

Through His Microscope,  And Knows About As Much Of Cosmology

As Does His Microbe.  Goethe,  The Most Comprehensive Of

Seers,  Must Needs Expose His Incompleteness By Futile

Attempts To Disprove Newton's Theory Of Colour.  Newton Must

Needs Expose His,  By A Still More Lamentable Attempt To Prove

The Apocalypse As True As His Own Discovery Of The Laws Of

Gravitation.  All Science Nowadays Is Necessarily Confined To

Experts.  Without Illustrating The Fact By Invidious Hints,  I

Invite Anyone To Consider The Intellectual Cost To The World

Which Such Limitation Entails; Nor Is The Loss Merely

Negative; The Specialist Is Unfortunately Too Often A Bigot, 

When Beyond His Contracted Sphere.

This,  You Will Say,  Is Arguing In A Circle.  The Universal

Must Be Given Up For The Detail,  The Detail For The

Universal; We Leave Off Where We Began.  Yes,  That Is The

Dilemma.  Still,  The Gain To Science Through A Devotion Of A

Whole Life To A Mere Group Of Facts,  In A Single Branch Of A

Single Science,  May Be An Incalculable Acquisition To Human

Knowledge,  To The Intellectual Capital Of The Race - A Gain

That Sometimes Far Outweighs The Loss.  Even If We Narrow The

Question To The Destiny Of The Individual,  The Sacrifice Of

Each One For The Good Of The Whole Is Doubtless The Highest

Aim The One Can Have.

But This Conclusion Scarcely Helps Us; For Remember,  The

Option Is Not Given To All.  Genius,  Or Talent,  Or Special

Aptitude,  Is A Necessary Equipment For Such An Undertaking. 

Great Discoverers Must Be Great Observers,  Dexterous

Manipulators,  Ingenious Contrivers,  And Patient Thinkers.

The Difficulty We Started With Was,  What You And I,  My

Friend,  Who Perhaps Have To Row In The Same Boat,  And Perhaps

'With The Same Sculls,' Without Any Of These Provisions,  What

We Should Do?  What Point Of The Compass Should We Steer For? 

'Whatever Thy Hand Findeth To Do,  Do It With Thy Might.' 

Truly There Could Be No Better Advice.  But The 'Finding' Is

The Puzzle; And Like The Search For Truth It Must,  I Fear,  Be

Left To Each One's Power To Do It.  And Then - And Then The

Countless Thousands Who Have The Leisure Without The Means -

Who Have Hands At Least,  And Yet No Work To Put Them To -

What Is To Be Done For These?  Not In Your Time Or Mine,  Dear

Friend,  Will That Question Be Answered.  For This,  I Fear We

Must Wait Till By The 'Universal Law Of Adaptation' We Reach

'The Ultimate Development Of The Ideal Man.'  'Colossal

Optimism,' Exclaims The Critic.

In February,  1855,  Roebuck Moved For A Select Committee To

Inquire Into The Condition Of The Army Before Sebastopol. 

Lord John Russell,  Who Was Leader Of The House,  Treated This

As A Vote Of Censure,  And Resigned.  Lord Palmerston Resisted

Roebuck's Motion,  And Generously Defended The Government He

Was Otherwise Opposed To.  But The Motion Was Carried By A

Majority Of 157,  And Lord Aberdeen Was Turned Out Of Office. 

The Queen Sent For Lord Derby,  But Without Lord Palmerston He

Was Unable To Form A Ministry.  Lord John Was Then Appealed

To,  With Like Results; And The Premiership Was Practically

Forced Upon Palmerston,  In Spite Of His Unpopularity At

Court.  Mr. Horsman Was Made Chief Secretary For Ireland; And

Through Mr. Ellice I Became His Private Secretary.

Before I Went To The Irish Office I Was All But A Stranger To

My Chief.  I Had Met Him Occasionally In The Tennis Court;

But The Net Was Always Between Us.  He Was A Man With A Great

Deal Of Manner,  But With Very Little Of What The French Call

'Conviction.'  Nothing Keeps People At A Distance More

Effectually Than Simulated Sincerity; Horsman Was A Master Of

The Art.  I Was Profoundly Ignorant Of My Duties.  But Though

This Was A Great Inconvenience To Me At First,  It Led To A

Friendship Which I Greatly Prized Until Its Tragic End.  For

All Information As To The Writers Of Letters,  As To Irish

Members Who Applied For Places For Themselves,  Or For Others, 

I Had To Consult The Principal Clerk.  He Was Himself An

Irishman Of Great Ability; And Though Young,  Was Either

Personally Or Officially Acquainted,  So It Seemed To Me,  With

Every Irishman In The House Of Commons,  Or Out Of It.  His

Name Is Too Well Known - It Was Thomas Bourke,  Afterwards

Under Secretary,  And One Of The Victims Of The Fenian

Assassins In The Phoenix Park.  His Patience And Amiability

Were Boundless; And Under His Guidance I Soon Learnt The

Tricks Of My Trade.

During The Session We Remained In London; And For Some Time

It Was Of Great Interest To Listen To The Debates.  When

Irish Business Was Before The House,  I Had Often To Be In

Attendance On My Chief In The Reporters' Gallery.  Sometimes

I Had To Wait There For An Hour Or Two Before Our Questions

Came On,  And Thus Had Many Opportunities Of Hearing Bright, 

Gladstone,  Disraeli,  And All The Leading Speakers.  After A

Time The Pleasure,  When Compulsory,  Began To Pall; And I Used

To Wonder What On Earth Could Induce The Ruck To Waste Their

Time In Following,  Sheeplike,  Their Bell-Wethers,  Or Waste

Their Money In Paying For That Honour.  When Parliament Was

Up We Moved To Dublin.  I Lived With Horsman In The Chief

Secretary's Lodge.  And As I Had Often Stayed At Castle

Howard Before Lord Carlisle Became Viceroy,  Between The Two 

Lodges I Saw A Great Deal Of Pleasant Society.

Amongst Those Who Came To Stay With Horsman Was Sidney

Herbert,  Then Colonial Secretary,  A Man Of Singular Nobility

Of Nature.  Another Celebrity For The Day,  But Of A Very

Different Character,  Was Lord Cardigan.  He Had Just Returned

From The Crimea,  And Was Now In Command Of The Forces In

Ireland.  This Was About Six Months After The Balaklava

Charge.  Horsman Asked Him One Evening To Give A Description

Of It,  With A Plan Of The Battle.  His Lordship Did So; No

Words Could Be More Suited To The Deed.  If This Was 'Pell-

Mell,  Havock,  And Confusion,' The Account Of It Was

Proportionately Confounded.  The Noble Leader Scrawled And

Inked And Blotted All The Phases Of The Battle Upon The Same

Scrap Of Paper,  Till The Batteries Were At The Starting-Point

Of The Charge,  The Light Brigade On The Far Side Of The Guns,  

And All The Points Of The Compass,  Attack And Defence,  Had

Changed Their Original Places; In Fact,  The Gallant Earl

Brandished His