8.  I once saw a work of art produced in the presence of an eminent cold-water pourer.  He did not deny that it was beautiful; but he instantly fastened upon a small crack in it that nobody had observed; and upon that crack he would dilate whenever the work was discussed in his presence.  Indeed, he did not see the work, but only the crack in it.  That flaw,—­that little flaw,—­was all in all to him.

9.  The cold-water pourers are not all of one form of mind.  Some are led to indulge in this recreation from genuine timidity.  They really do fear that all new attempts will fail.  Others are simply envious and ill-natured.  Then, again, there is a sense of power and wisdom in prophesying evil.  Moreover, it is the safest thing to prophesy, for hardly anything at first succeeds exactly in the way that it was intended to succeed.

10.  Again, there is the lack of imagination which gives rise to the utterance of so much discouragement.  For an ordinary man, it must have been a great mental strain to grasp the ideas of the first projectors of steam and gas, electric telegraphs, and pain-deadening chloroform.  The inventor is always, in the eyes of his fellow-men, somewhat of a madman; and often they do their best to make him so.

11.  Again, there is the want of sympathy; and that is, perhaps, the ruling cause in most men’s minds who have given themselves up to discourage.  They are not tender enough, or sympathetic enough, to appreciate all the pain they are giving, when, in a dull plodding way, they lay out argument after argument to show that the project which the poor inventor has set his heart upon, and upon which, perhaps, he has staked his fortune, will not succeed.

12.  But what inventors suffer, is only a small part of what mankind in general endure from thoughtless and unkind discouragement.  Those high-souled men belong to the suffering class, and must suffer; but it is in daily life that the wear and tear of discouragement tells so much.  Propose a small party of pleasure to an apt discourager, and see what he will make of it.  It soon becomes sicklied over with doubt and despondency; and, at last, the only hope of the proposer is, that his proposal, when realized, will not be an ignominious failure.  All hope of pleasure, at least for the proposer, has long been out of the question.

Definitions.—­2.  Des’ig-nat-ed, called by a distinctive title, named. 5.  Yam, the root of a climbing plant, found in the tropics, which is used for food. 6.  Im-paled’, put to death by being fixed on an upright, sharp stake. 8.  Di-late’, to speak largely, to dwell in narration. 10.  Rise (pro. ris, not riz), source, origin.  Pro-jec’tor, one who forms a scheme or design.

CIV.  THE MARINER’S DREAM.

William Dimond (b. 1780, d. 1837) was a dramatist and poet, living at Bath, England, where he was born and received his education.  He afterwards studied for the bar in London.  His literary productions are for the most part dramas, but he has also written a number of poems, among them the following: