motion the deeper currents of thought and action; into the atmosphere of a
sluggish age they infuse freshness and vitality; they do not drift with
majorities, they determine their own courses, and sweep others into the
wide circles of influence which issue from them. They are the leaders,
organisers, energising spirits of society; they do not copy, but create;
they do not accept, but form conditions; they mould life to their purpose,
and stamp themselves on materials.

To the making of genuine careers concentration is quite as essential as
energy; to achieve the highest success, a man must not only be willing to
pour out his vitality without stint or measure, but he must also be
willing to give himself. For concentration is, at bottom, entire surrender
of one's life to some definite end. In order to focus all one's powers at
a single point, there must be abandonment of a wide field of interest and
pleasure. One would like to do many things and take into himself many
kinds of knowledge, many forms of influence; but if one is to master an
art, a craft, or a profession, one must be willing to leave many paths
untrod, to build many walls, and to lock many doors. When the boy has
learned his lessons he may roam the fields and float on the river at his
own sweet will; but so long as he is at the desk he must be deaf to the
invitation of sky and woods. When a man has mastered his work he may
safely roam the world; but while he is an apprentice let him be deaf and
blind to all things that interrupt or divert or dissipate the energies.

Mr. Gladstone's astonishing range of interests and occupations was made
possible by his power of concentration. He gave himself completely to the
work in hand; all his knowledge, energy, and ability were focussed on that
work, so that his whole personality was brought to a point of intense
light and heat, as the rays of the sun are brought to a point in a
burning-glass. When the power of concentration reaches this stage of