亨利·沃德·比徹/Henry Ward Beecher
Industry is a substitute for Genius, where one or more faculties exist in the highest state of development and activity, —as the faculty of music in Mozart,—invention in Fulton, we call their possessor a genius. But a genius is usually understood to be a creature of such rare facility of mind, that he can do anything without labor. According to the popular notion, he learn without study, and knows without learning.
He is eloquent without preparation; exact without calculation; and profound without reflection. A genius is supposed to receive it as the mind receives dreams. Such minds may exist.
The occupations of the great man, and of the common man, are necessarily, for the most part, the same; for the business of life is made up of minute affairs, requiring only judgment and diligence. A high order of intellect is required for the discovery and defence of truth; but this is an unfrequent task.
The vast bulk of men are required to discharge the homely duties of life; and they have less need of genius than of intellectual industry and patient enterprise. In the ordinary business of life, industry can do anything with genius can do; and very many things which it cannot.
Industry has a firmer muscle, is less annoyed by delays and repulses.
From enjoying the pleasant walks of industry we turn reluctantly to explore the paths of indolence.
All degrees of indolence incline a man to rely upon others, and not upon himself. His carelessness is somebody's loss; his neglect is somebody's downfall; his promises are a perpetual stumbling block to all who trust them. If he borrows, the article remains borrowed; if he begs and gets, it is as the letting out of waters—no one knows when it will stop. He spoils your work; disappoints your expectations; exhausts your patience; and hangs a dead weight upon all your plans; and the very best thing an honest man can do with a lazy man, is to get rid of him.