coming real and the imaginative dream an accomplished definite fact; the creative must necessarily always follow the discerning intellect. There is a great difference between a day dream and a purpose; the former is passive, the latter active. The dreamer is content; the planner, hungry for attainment. When we dream, hope, or wish, we are apt to wait for the desired thing to come to us; when we purpose, we perform the task necessary to realize the desired end. The doing of a thing means the overcoming of all resistance in its environment, the overthrow of all passiveness and the mastery of all negative forces within oneself. Doing a thing causes power to flow in reaction to the doer, thus permitting the mobilization of greater power for future effort.

Every mind, to be great, must have a great plan and noble purpose, but great minds must have vision and conviction, energized into performance. Greatness comes with accomplishment and not with aspirations alone. It is far better, however, to be a doer and earnest worker on a small scale in a field of useful service, than a dreamer of vast schemes, handicapped by indolent faculties for realizing the dreams. In one of Thoreau's manuscripts we read, "The youth gets together his materials to build a bridge to the moon, or perchance a palace or temple on the earth, and, at length, the middle-aged man (with much of his life wasted) concludes to build a woodshed with them." Emerson aptly added, "Better honest woodsheds than nothing but impossible dreams."

V

XIII

ERSATILITY, in its modern rather than literal sense, means to be capable of turning with ease from one subject to another. This admirable quality does not indicate so much a lack of specialization in one line as a mental equipment of many pronounced characteristics and faculties, each of which can be so developed as to compete with specialized mental attributes in other people. One man, spending an hour a day with concentrated, intelligent thought on a certain subject, may become more of an authority on that subject after one year than another man who makes it the basis of his vocation and has worked on the matter ten hours a day for ten years. Intelligence, concentration, thoroughness and individuality of thought, together with reasoning and reflective powers, draw the lines of demarcation between the mentally wise and the mentally foolish.

The specialist, with but one thought in life, is only partially cultured; he has restricted vision and an inhuman and boresome personality. He is mentally lopsided, unnatural and unendurable. The brain is not like a Wernicke book-case, with each book read or lesson taught making an added section. Unless the book read has stimulated thought and been a mental tonic, whipping one's mind into positive individualistic thought, it has added nothing to one's

mind and possibly nothing to one's brain, other than a few memorized but unaccepted and undigested words. Unless a lesson taught has opened up new avenues in the brain, new visions to inspire, and suggested new fields to conquer and the necessary equipment for worth-while exploration, the lesson has been merely a waste of time, rebelliously submitted to or idly gratifying.

Great minds have many interests; they are many selves in one self. Hippias, the Greek Sophist of the fifth century B. C., was a famous master of rhetoric, eloquent and learned, and ready to answer any man's questions on astronomy, geometry, mathematics, language, music, genealogic antiquities and philosophy. He was a man of great versatility, and even made with his own hands all his clothes and shoes. He wrote some excellent works on Homer and was a collector of Greek and foreign literature and archaeological treatises. Pythagoras was a traveler, mathematician, astronomer, teacher and organizer. Melissus, of Samos, was a philosopher, a most clever politician, an executive and a brave general. To Flavius Arrianus, the eminent Stoic philosopher, we owe much; he was a wise administrator and successful general. He was also a lecturer and held high public offices under Hadrian. In 130 A. D. he received the consulship, later filled a priesthood and still later we find him devoting himself to the production of works on history and military tactics. In the midst of his strenuous career, this eminently worthy and versatile genius wrote and published the discourses of his teacher Epictetus.

Some little time ago, a modern writer, attempting to prove by history the old saying, "Jack of all trades, master of none," had the poor judgment to write disparagingly of the greatest genius of the Renaissance-Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), saying that had Leonardo lived today he would have been a third or fourth-rate engineer. Versatility does not make "Jacks" or "scatter-brains," any more than specialization makes "Masters." One man with developed brain and well-rounded personality, with vision, ideals and purpose energetically expressed, may be a genius in many fields of human endeavor, or, at least, worthy of being considered a specialist, or an acknowledged authority. To do much does not mean to do it badly. To do many things does not indicate that any one of them need be done badly. The old cry of "Let the shoemaker stick to his last" has been overdone; it savors too much of protective restriction for decaying, selfish interests.

A Paderewski need not attempt blacksmithing, but after all, if a man of Paderewski's temperament could do the work of a smith, without detrimentally affecting his purely physical self, i. e., fingers, hands, arms and shoulders, the mental work of smithing would do a Paderewski good; and it is mental and not physical work that we are discussing. Leonardo could never have done any work like a "Jack." He brought back to the mind of the world the wonders of science that had slept for many long centuries. He was an inheritor and a perfecter, yet in science he seemed to be a pioneer, working wholly for the future and, in great part, alone and against tremen

dous odds. This wonderful genius was one of the greatest painters of the greatest era of painters that the world has ever known. He was also a talented sculptor, a skilled architect, a brilliant engineer, as well as a noted physician, mechanician and natural philosopher. We are told that "no man gifted in the same degree was at once for art and science."

It is doubtful if this age could produce a Leonardo da Vinci; appreciation of art has lowered, our minds are too sordid and the authority of the usurping specialist and dogmatist too complete. This age is habitually shamefaced or absent-minded before the ideal, i. e., before the real nature of things. This is an era of hurry, bustle and motion; of crowds and mass; of specialists to think out all our thoughts and serve conclusions, duly censored and peptonized in tabloid form. It is a rushing, trashy age, teeming with excitement, thrills and so-called "big" things; midget men propping up the universe and hurrahing about civilization, with real cultivation ignored and undergoing decay. It is an hysterical age of brass bands, waving banners and senseless noise; the worship of externals of life, of Mammon, the authority of inane dogmatism and an unreal, unspiritual God, a burlesque of the religion of Christ and of the real soul. Men today are like the sailors of Ulysses and mistake bags of wind for bags of treasures. The hectic character of imaginative literature and many theatrical plays of the day are indicative of the wild state of our psychic life, the substitution of ragtime for real music, and the sensuous dance for the rhythm of wholesome happiness. Anything abnor