All are familiar with the misfortune of Carlyle while writing his
"History of the French Revolution." After the first volume was ready for
the press, he loaned the manuscript to a neighbor, who left it lying on
the floor, and the servant girl took it to kindle the fire. It was a
bitter disappointment, but Carlyle was not the man to give up. After
many months of poring Over hundreds of volumes of authorities and scores
of manuscripts, he reproduced that which had burned in a few minutes.


PROCEED, AND LIGHT WILL DAWN.

The slightest acquaintance with literary history would bring to light a
multitude of heroes of poverty or misfortune, of men and women perplexed
and disheartened, who have yet aroused themselves to new effort at every
new obstacle.

It is related by Arago that he found under the cover of a text book he
was binding a short note from D'Alembert to a student:

"Go on, sir, go on. The difficulties you meet with will resolve
themselves as you advance. Proceed; and light will dawn, and shine with
increasing clearness on your path."

"That maxim," said Arago, "was my greatest master in mathematics."

Had Balzac been easily discouraged he would have hesitated at the words
of warning given by his father:

"Do you know that in literature a man must be either a king or a