It so happened that a work of mine, upon which the maker's name was
not stamped--work done with a purpose of good--was spoken of and
praised by one who did not know me as the handicraftsman.
"It is tame, dull, and commonplace," said the brilliant one, in a
tone of contempt; and there were many present to agree with him.
Like the strokes of a hammer upon my heart, came these words of
condemnation. "Tame, dull, and commonplace!" And was it, indeed, so?
Yes; I felt that what he uttered was true. That my powers were
exceedingly limited, and my gifts few. Oh, what would I not have
then given for brilliant endowments like those possessed by him from
whom had fallen the words of condemnation?
"You will admit," said one--I thought it strange at the time that
there should be even one to speak a word in favor of my poor
performance--"that it will do good?"
"Good!" was answered, in a tone slightly touched by contempt. "Oh,
yes; it will do good!" and the brilliant one tossed his head.
"Anybody can do good!"
I went home with a perturbed spirit. I had work to do; but I could
not do it. I sat down and tried to forget what I had heard.
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