admiration, and even his veneration.

"It is enough," he added, "to make one who has good opportunities for
education hang his head in shame."

All this, including the whole of the letter, was published in the
newspapers, with eulogistic comments, in which the student was spoken of
as the "Learned Blacksmith." The bashful scholar was overwhelmed with
shame at finding himself suddenly famous. However, it led to his
entering upon public life. Lecturing was then coming into vogue, and he
was frequently invited to the platform. Accordingly, he wrote a lecture,
entitled "Application and Genius," in which he endeavored to show that
there is no such thing as genius, but that all extraordinary attainments
are the results of application. After delivering this lecture sixty
times in one season, he went back to his forge at Worcester, mingling
study with labor in the old way.

On sitting down to write a new lecture for the following season, on the
"Anatomy of the Earth," a certain impression was made upon his mind which
changed the current of his life. Studying the globe, he was impressed
with the need that one nation has of other nations, and one zone of
another zone; the tropics producing what assuages life in the northern
latitudes and northern lands furnishing the means of mitigating tropical
discomforts. He felt that the earth was made for friendliness and
coöperation, not for fierce competition and bloody wars.

Under the influence of these feelings, his lecture became an eloquent
plea for peace, and to this object his after life was chiefly devoted.
The dispute with England upon the Oregon boundary induced him to go to
England with the design of travelling on foot from village to village,