A Picture without Colour
"For God maketh my heart soft" -- Job 23:16
In the French Academy is a famous oil painting, by Delaroche. It was painted in honour of the world’s intellectuals. Grouped around a marble chair of state are the master minds of all ages—artists, architects, sculptors, writers, inventors, statesmen, scientists. No place is given to the great hearts of the world. Homer, Socrates, Aristotle, Shakespeare, Newton, and Laplace are there; but the John Howards and David Livingstones and Florence Nightingales of earth are not there.
That the master minds represented in this famous painting are worthy of the honour accorded them, none will question. The only criticism I make is this—that the artist ignores the heart and puts intellect on the throne. I do not belittle brains. I take off my hat to great intellect. But those who have rendered the greatest service to the world are not its great intellectuals, but its great hearts.
"For God maketh my heart soft." To be softhearted is not to be silly-headed. Some of the brainiest men I know are men of soft and tender heart. Speaking of a man of affairs, a man with a great executive brain, one said to me recently, "He is one of the most tender-hearted men I ever knew." My esteem for that man was greatly enhanced.
The judgment of the head is not to be ignored. But do not suppress the emotion of the heart. Emotion is not weakness. Emotion is power. Jenny Lind captivated the multitudes because there was emotion in her voice.
Cultivate the head. But do not neglect to cultivate the heart. Head without heart is cold, unresponsive, passionless, conventional—a picture without colour.
