But we are all more or less improvisators. We all have a double, who is
wiser and better than we are, and who puts thoughts into our heads and
words into our mouths. Do we not all commune with our own hearts upon
our beds? Do we not all divide ourselves and go to buffets on questions
of right or wrong, of wisdom or folly? Who or what is it that resolves
the stately parliament of the day, with all its forms and
conventionalities and pretences, and the great Me presiding, into the
committee of the whole, with Conscience in the chair, that holds its
solemn session through the watches of the night?
Persons who talk most do not always think most. I question whether
persons who think most--that is, have most conscious thought pass
through their minds--necessarily do most mental work. The tree that you
are sticking in "will be growing when you are sleeping." So with every
new idea that is planted in a real thinker's mind: it will be growing
when he is least conscious of it. An idea in the brain is not a legend
carved on a marble slab: it is an impression made on a living tissue,
which is the seat of active nutritive processes. Shall the initials I
carved in bark increase from year to year with the tree? and shall not
my recorded thought develop into new forms and relations with my growing
brain? Mr. Webster told one of our greatest scholars that he had to
change the size of his hat every few years. His head grew larger as his
intellect expanded. Illustrations of this same fact were shown me many
years ago by Mr. Deville, the famous phrenologist, in London. But
organic mental changes may take place in shorter spaces of time. A
single night of sleep has often brought a sober second-thought, which
was a surprise to the hasty conclusion of the day before. Lord
Polkommet's description of the way he prepared himself for a judicial
decision is in point, except for the alcoholic fertilizer he employed in
planting his ideas: "Ye see, I first read a' the pleadings; and then,
after letting them wamble in my wame wi' the toddy two or three days, I
gie my ain interlocutor."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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