Stories of Achievement, Volume IV

Stories of Achievement, Volume
IV

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6), by
Various, Edited by Asa Don Dickinson
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Title: Stories of Achievement, Volume IV (of 6) Authors and
Journalists
Author: Various
Editor: Asa Don Dickinson
Release Date: June 15, 2006 [eBook #18598]
Language: English
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STORIES OF ACHIEVEMENT, VOLUME IV
Authors and Journalists
Edited by
ASA DON DICKINSON
Authors and Journalists
JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU ROBERT BURNS CHARLOTTE
BRONTE CHARLES DICKENS HORACE GREELEY LOUISA M.
ALCOTT HENRY GEORGE WILLIAM H. RIDEING JACOB A.
RIIS HELEN KELLER

[Frontispiece: Robert Burns]

Garden City ---- New York Doubleday, Page & Company 1925
Copyright, 1916, by Doubleday, Page & Company All Rights Reserved

ACKNOWLEDGMENT
In the preparation of this volume the publishers have received from
several houses and authors generous permissions to reprint copyright
material. For this they wish to express their cordial gratitude. In
particular, acknowledgments are due to the Houghton Mifflin Company

for permission to reprint the sketch of Horace Greeley; to Little, Brown
& Co. for permission to reprint passages from "The Life, Letters, and
Journals of Louisa May Alcott"; to Mr. Henry George, Jr., for the
extract from his life of his father; to William H. Rideing for permission
to reprint extracts from his book "Many Celebrities and a Few Others";
to the Macmillan Company for permission to use passages from "The
Making of an American," by Jacob A. Riis; to Miss Helen Keller for
permission to reprint from "The Story of My Life."

CONTENTS
AUTHORS AND JOURNALISTS
JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU The Man to Whom Expression was
Travail
ROBERT BURNS The Ploughman-poet
HORACE GREELEY How the Farm-boy Became an Editor
CHARLES DICKENS The Factory Boy
CHARLOTTE BRONTE The Country Parson's Daughter
LOUISA MAY ALCOTT The Journal of a Brave and Talented Girl
HENRY GEORGE The Troubles of a Job Printer
JACOB RIIS "The Making of an American"
WILLIAM H. RIDEING Rejected Manuscripts
HELEN ADAMS KELLER How She Learned to Speak

JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU

(1712-1778)
THE MAN TO WHOM EXPRESSION WAS TRAVAIL
From the "Confessions of Rousseau."
It is strange to hear that those critics who spoke of Rousseau's
"incomparable gift of expression," of his "easy, natural style," were
ludicrously incorrect in their allusions. From his "Confessions" we
learn that he had no gift of clear, fluent expression; that he was by
nature so incoherent that he could not creditably carry on an ordinary
conversation; and that the ideas which stirred Europe, although
spontaneously conceived, were brought forth and set before the world
only after their progenitor had suffered the real pangs of labor.
But after all it is the same old story over again. Great things are rarely
said or done easily.
Two things very opposite unite in me, and in a manner which I cannot
myself conceive. My disposition is extremely ardent, my passions
lively and impetuous, yet my ideas are produced slowly, with great
embarrassment and after much afterthought. It might be said my heart
and understanding do not belong to the same individual. A sentiment
takes possession of my soul with the rapidity of lightning, but instead
of illuminating, it dazzles and confounds me; I feel all, but see nothing;
I am warm but stupid; to think I must be cool. What is astonishing, my
conception is clear and penetrating, if not hurried: I can make excellent
impromptus at leisure, but on the instant could never say or do anything
worth notice. I could hold a tolerable conversation by the post, as they
say the Spaniards play at chess, and when I read that anecdote of a duke
of Savoy, who turned himself round, while on a journey, to cry out "a
votre gorge, marchand de Paris!" I said, "Here is a trait of my
character!"
This slowness of thought, joined to vivacity of feeling, I am not only
sensible of in conversation, but even alone. When I write, my ideas are
arranged with the utmost difficulty. They glance on my imagination
and ferment till they discompose, heat, and bring on a palpitation;

during this state of agitation I see nothing properly, cannot write a
single word, and must wait till all is over. Insensibly the agitation
subsides, the chaos acquires form, and each circumstance takes its
proper place. Have you