By J.R. Miller
One of the finest secrets of success, lies in finding one's true place. Many a life with splendid qualities comes to little use, because it fails in this regard. Many a man, who struggles through years in a profession and never rises to distinction, never accomplishes anything that gives satisfaction to himself or to his friends, would have won a worthy record in some other line of business or in a trade. There are men who imagine they have talents for almost any kind of calling, that they could do almost anything that man can do. But the truth is, that no man has in him a universality of talent. Every man has a talent for something. There is one thing he can do well--if he trains himself for it.
Probably mothers spoil many of their children's lives, by trying to be their guide. They decide that their boys shall be ministers or doctors or artists or inventors, and teach them in infancy what they are going to be in life, regardless of what their natural gifs may be. The result is that the boys grow up without being free to think for themselves, biased and constrained toward some calling for which perhaps they have no natural fitness whatever.
There are many sad failures in life because of a wrong choice of vocation. Some men stumble along, trying one thing and failing, then trying something else, and probably failing again and again, until half their life is gone and they are still unsettled, without a place in which they are content, or in which they are doing the work God made them to do.
It would seem to be a great blessing to masses of people if there were some way by which boys could be shown very early in their lives what they could do best, and in what calling they could make the most of their lives. But this is not the divine way. God leads us usually through series of providences and experiences, and in the end we seem to have to find our own way. Nevertheless, God is willing to guide us. Indeed, he has a plan for every one of our lives, something he wants us to do, a niche he wants us to fill, and he will show us the way to our place and to our duty.
The chief thing for us is to be willing to take the place for which he has made us--to do the work he has fitted us to do. We must be satisfied to do this, however lowly the place may be. God's place for us may not be a place of fame--it may be an obscure place. One of the hardest lessons we have to learn, may be the taking of an obscure place after we have been trying for a while to get into a conspicuous place and have failed in filling it. When we learn at last that we cannot do the great things we wanted to do, it is beautiful in us to accept our disappointment and take graciously and sweetly the lowlier place, and to begin to do the less brilliant things which we can do.
Many people are familiar with Durer's Folded Hands, a picture of two hands clasped as in prayer. There is a charming story of the way the famous picture came to be painted. Here is the story, as it comes to us. Whether authentic or not, it is interesting and has its lessons. It illustrates too, the lesson which has been suggested.
A good while ago, in quaint old Nuremberg, lived two boys, Franz Knigstein and Albrecht Durer. Both wished to be artists and both began to study. The parents of the boys were poor and worked hard to help their sons. Albrecht had genius but Franz had only love for art without real artistic skill. Visions of beautiful pictures haunted him--but his hand lacked the deftness to put these visions on canvas. Still, the boys both worked hard and hoped for success.
Years passed and they planned to make, each of them, an etching of our Lord's passion. When they compared their finished work, that of Franz was cold and without life, while Albrecht's was instinct with beauty and pathos. Franz saw it all, as he looked upon the two etchings, and knew now that he could never be an artist. His heart was almost broken--but he did not murmur. Only for one passionate moment he buried his face in his hands. Then he said to Albrecht, in a voice broken and sad--but full of manly courage: "The good Lord gave me no such gift as this of yours. But something he has yet for me to do. Some lowly duty is waiting somewhere for me...." "Be still! Franz, be quiet one minute," cried Albrecht, seizing pencil and paper. Franz supposed that Albrecht was putting some finishing touches to his exquisite drawing and waited patiently, his hands still clasped together. With his swift pencil Albrecht drew a few lines and showed the sketch to his friend.
"Why, those are only my hands," Franz said. "Why did you draw them?"
"I sketched them," said Albrecht, "as you stood there making the surrender of your life so nobly and bravely. I said to myself then, 'Those hands which will never paint a picture, can now most certainly make one.' I have faith in those hands, my brother-friend. They will go to men's hearts in the days to come."
Albrecht's prophecy has been fulfilled. Into the world of love and duty, there has gone the story so touching and helpful in its beautiful simplicity, and into the world of art has gone the picture--but for Albrecht's Durer's Folded Hands, are but the hands of Franz Knigstein, as they were folded that day in sweet, brave resignation when he gave up his heart's dearest wish, and yet had faith to believe that the Lord had some lowly duty worth his doing.
This story has its lessons, which it is worth our while to note and remember. For one thing, it teaches that if we cannot do the rare and beautiful things we see other people doing and aspire to do ourselves, we can at least do something that will please God and be a blessing to the world. It is not every man's mission to be a great artist. God has a plan for each life, and we best honor him when we discover what he has made us to do and then quietly and patiently do it. Albrecht Durer had the artist's gift. Franz Knigstein had love for beauty and wished to be an artist. But it became evident to him after a time of earnest, diligent trial, that he never could acquire the artist's skill. He had not the genius for it. It was no dishonor to Franz that his gifts were not equal to Albrecht's. He had not been indolent in study or work. There are men whose failure to be great is their own fault. They have never done their best. They have trifled and loitered. Some of the saddest tragedies in life are the tragedies of indolence. But Franz had done his best. Only his gift was less brilliant than his friend's. We need never feel that we have failed because another surpasses us in some particular line. If we have truly done our best, we have succeeded.
A large element in success is in being in the right place--the place for which God made us, and the place for which we have the gift. Many fail, never making anything worth while of their lives because they are trying to do something they have not the talent for doing. There are men in the professions who do not get on, yet who would have done well, achieving success, if they had found the right place-the place for which they had talents. It is most important, therefore, that young men in choosing their occupation and their work shall seek divine guidance and do what they were made to do, what they can do. It is better to stand in a high rank in a lowly occupation than utterly fail in a profession or calling which seems to be more honorable. It is not his occupation which gives dignity to a man--but the way he fills it; not the things he does--but he way he does them.
Another lesson from the Folded Hands, is that when it becomes evident to anyone that he cannot do the things he has set his heart on doing, when he discovers that he cannot win the prize--that he should submit courageously and cheerfully, and then turn with eagerness and zest to the things which he can do. Of course, he should never give up too easily. We should always do our best, remembering that we shall have to give account to God for the possibilities he has put into our lives, never wrapping any talent in a napkin, or burying it in the earth. But, after doing our best, it may prove to be with us as it proved to be with Franz Knigstein, that the lofty attainment we had hoped to reach, is beyond our ability and our skill. If so, we should quietly acquiesce, turning to the plainer work which may be given us to do and doing it contentedly.
Many people are made unhappy, by fretting over disappointed ambitions. They try to do something conspicuous, to win honor or reward in a certain line, and fail. Then instead of accepting the failure sweetly and taking up the lowlier and less conspicuous tasks cheerfully, they chafe and sometimes lose heart and grow bitter. The way Franz bore himself when he saw that his friend had won the prize was very noble. His disappointment was great. A thousand dreams of success and honor fell into the dust. He saw another wearing the garland, which he had hoped to win and wear. He heard the people's hurrahs and cheers as the other man received the mark of distinction which he himself had hope to receive. Many people in such an experience would have grown bitter and envious, and would have become angry and resentful. But Franz acted nobly. He recognized the splendid ability of Albrecht and honored it. Here it is, that ofttimes envy asserts itself and does its mischievous work--but there was not a shadow of envy in the heart of Franz. He was bitterly disappointed--but not an envious word passed his lips. It is one of the finest achievements of a noble spirit, to recognize the genius or the ability that surpasses one's own. It is a heroic and beautiful thing for the boy who has been defeated in the game--to throw up his hat and cheer for his rival. His victory is greater than if he had won in the contest. To master one's own spirit, is the greatest of all victories.
The lesson of the Folded Hands teaches us that if we are not to have the highest place, we should willingly and gladly take the place to which God assigns us. The greatest and most glorious thing anyone can do any day or any hour--is God's will for that day or hour. If that is earth's humblest task, it still is greater for us than if by straying from our true place we should sit on a king's throne a while.
