Some of them once had minds--and these are the most pitiful or pitiable of all.

It is to be regretted that novels are, with rare exceptions, written to amuse this class, and limit themselves strictly to "life," never describing with real skill, so as to interest anything which would make life worth living for--except love--which is good to a certain extent, but not absolutely all in all, save to the eroto-maniac.

And as most novelists now pretend to instruct and convey ideas, beyond mere story-telling, or even being "interesting," which means the love or detective business, I would suggest to some of these writers that the marvelous latent powers of the human mind, and also some art which does not consist of the names and guide-book praises of a few great painters and the Renaissance _rechauffee_ would be a refreshing novelty.
The ancient Romans were thoroughly persuaded that _Exercitatione et usu_ (by exercising the physical faculties in every way; by which they meant arts as well as gymnastics; and by making such practice habitual) they could develop intellect, in illustration of which Lycurgus once took two puppies of the same litter, and had the one brought up to hunt, while the other was nursed at home in all luxury; and when grown, and let loose, the one caught a hare, while the other yelped and ran away.

So the word _handy_, in old English _hend_, meaning quick, alert, or gifted with prompt perception, is derived from knowing how to use the hands.

BRUSONIUS ("Facetiae," Lyons, 1562) has collected a great number of classic anecdotes to illustrate this saying.
_Recapitulation_.