lf-hours he laid anew the foundations of philosophy. I
long to accomplish a great and noble task; but it is my chief duty and
joy to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. It
is my service to think how I can best fulfil the demands that each day
makes upon me, and to rejoice that others can do what I cannot. Green,
the historian,[1] tells us that the world is moved along, not only by
the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny
pushes of each honest worker; and that thought alone suffices to guide
me in this dark world and wide. I love the good that others do; for
their activity is an assurance that whether I can help or not, the
true and the good will stand sure.

[1] Life and Letters of John Richard Green. Edited by Leslie Stephen.

I trust, and nothing that happens disturbs my trust. I recognize the
beneficence of the power which we all worship as supreme--Order, Fate,
the Great Spirit, Nature, God. I recognize this power in the sun that
makes all things grow and keeps life afoot. I make a friend of this
indefinable force, and straightway I feel glad, brave and ready for
any lot Heaven may decree for me. This is my religion of optimism.

Part ii. Optimism Without

[Illustration]

Part ii

Optimism Without

Optimism, then, is a fact within my own heart. But as I look out upon
life, my heart meets no contradiction. The outward world justifies my
inward universe of good. All through the years I have spent in
college, my reading has been a continuous discovery of good. In
literature, philosophy, religion and history I find the mighty
witnesses to my faith.

Philosophy is the history of a deaf-blind person writ large. From the
talks of Socrates up through Plato, Berkeley and Kant, philosophy
records the efforts of human intelligence to be free of the clogging
material world and fly forth into a universe of pure idea. A
deaf-blind person ought to find special meaning in Plato's Ideal
World. These things which you see and hear and touch are not the
reality of realities, but imperfect manifestations of the Idea, the
Principle, the Spiritual; the Idea is the truth, the rest is delusion.

If this be so, my brethren who enjoy the fullest use of the senses are
not aware of any reality which may not equally well be in reach of my
mind. Philosophy gives to the mind the prerogative of seeing truth,
and bears us into a realm where I, who am blind, am not di