a movement, a cry interprets better
than beautifully rounded periods. The most precious possessions of the
heart of humanity manifest themselves most simply. To be convincing, a
thing must be true, and certain truths are more evident when they come
in the speech of ingenuousness, even weakness, than when they fall from
lips too well trained, or are proclaimed with trumpets. And these rules
are good for each of us in his every-day life. No one can imagine what
profit would accrue to his moral life from the constant observation of
this principle: Be sincere, moderate, simple in the expression of your
feelings and opinions, in private and public alike; never pass beyond
bounds, give out faithfully what is within you, and above all,
watch!--that is the main thing.

For the danger in fine words is that they live from a life of their own.
They are servants of distinction, that have kept their titles but no
longer perform their functions--of which royal courts offer us example.
You speak well, write well, and all is said. How many people content
themselves with speaking, and believe that it exempts them from acting!
And those who listen are content with having heard them. So it sometimes
happens that a life may in the end be made up of a few well-turned
speeches, a few fine books, and a few great plays. As for practicing
what is so magisterially set forth, that is the last thing thought of.
And if we pass from the world of talent to spheres which the mediocre
exploit, there, in a pell-mell of confusion, we see those who think that
we are in the world to talk and hear others talk--the great and hopeless
rout of babblers, of everything that prates, bawls, and perorates and,
after all, finds that there isn't talking enough. They all forget that
those who make the least noise do the most work. An engine that expends
all its steam in whistling, has nothing left with which to turn wheels.
Then let us cultivate silence. All that we can save in noise we gain in
power.

* * * * *

These reflections lead us to consider a similar subject, also very
worthy of attention: I mean what has been called "the vice of the
superlative." If we study the inhabitants of a country, we notice
differences of temperament, of which the language shows signs. Here the
people are calm and phlegmatic; their speech is jejune, lacks color.
Elsewhere temperaments are more evenly balanced; one finds precision,
the word exactly fitted to