Chapter III: Part 3
History is full of examples of the failure of men and nations through the loss of Self-control. The Greek nation was destroyed because the people gave themselves up to idleness and the gratification of their desires. So were the Romans, who were conquered by the savage Goths, who possessed the virtue of Self-restraint. No man ever yet became great who did not practise the great virtue of Self-denial.
St. Paul said: "I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection."
No. XVIII.
SELF-RELIANCE
+Self-reliance is the power to help one's self. It is personal independence. It is that which makes labour enjoyable. It is that which adds Zest to a man's pursuits in life, and produces the highest success.+
He who learns the great lesson of Self-reliance will never lack the means of livelihood or the opportunity for usefulness. It is the duty of every boy to learn to depend upon himself. His father may be a rich man now, but it is far easier to lose wealth than to create it, and the day may come when his father may have to depend upon him. That every man should earn his own bread is one of the fundamental duties of life. St. Paul laid it down as a law for the Christians in Thessaly that "if any would not work, neither should he eat."
Most people have the stern necessity to labour laid upon them; but there are some who have inherited, or expect to inherit, wealth, and who see no need to employ their abilities in active, steady, persistent labour, and yet it is just these who have the power to confer special benefits and blessings upon their fellow-men. He who has no cares about the earning of his daily bread has a great opportunity to devote himself to some special line of labour which will result in a lasting benefit to the community in which he lives, and which requires leisure for its proper development. The rich man is a curse to his country, instead of a blessing, if he keeps his capital from active employment, and at the same time neglects to use for the good of his fellows that higher sort of capital--his personal abilities.
If the schoolboy wish to make real progress, he must learn to depend upon himself alone. He will never master a subject thoroughly if he go constantly to the master, or to another boy, for help. He who gets another to do his lessons for him cheats not only the master, but himself also. The boy who loves to overcome difficulties, whether they be in the gymnasium, or the class-room, or the cricket field, is sure to succeed in the struggles of after life.
Self-reliance comes naturally to some people, especially to those who have bodies trained by vigorous exercise. To others it becomes a habit only after long effort, but it is beyond the reach of no one. Two things are required for its attainment: determination and practice. We need not expect to attain any good habit without failure at first. But, as has been wisely said: "Perseverance, self-reliance, energetic effort, are doubly strengthened when you rise from failure to battle again."
Emerson said: "Self-trust is the first secret of success"; and in another place: "Self-trust is the essence of heroism."
It would be easy to give a great many examples of the virtue of Self-reliance. One of the greatest in modern times was that of Lord Beaconsfield, Prime Minister of England. He tried many times before he at last got a seat in parliament. The first time he tried to speak in that great assembly, he was received with shouts of laughter, when he said: "Gentlemen, I now sit down, but a day will come when you shall hear me." All will remember the wonderful Self-reliance of the Black Prince at the battle of Creçy. At the close of his life, Jean Paul said: "I have made as much out of myself as could be made of the stuff, and no man should require more."
Lord Bacon said: "Men seem neither to understand their riches nor their strength: of the former they believe greater things than they should, of the latter much less. Self-reliance and Self-control will teach a man to drink out of his own cistern, and eat his own sweet bread, and to learn and labour truly to get his living, and carefully to expend the good things committed to his trust."
Self-reliance does not mean Self-assertion. The truly self-reliant man is modest in his language and manners. The boaster has usually very little backbone to his character. Self-reliance is a deeply-rooted feeling of reserve power, which makes a man strong under all circumstances. It carries with it an equally strong feeling of self-respect. The old French proverb says that a man is rated by others as he rates himself.
Goethe's advice to young men was: "Make good thy standing place, and move the world."
No. XIX.
FRIENDSHIP
+Friendship is that feeling between people which leads them to trust each other entirely, to tell each other of their difficulties, hopes, and fears; to share with each other pleasures and sorrows; to help each other when need arises, even though it involves a sacrifice.+
Cicero thought Friendship of so much importance in life that he wrote a treatise on it. He said: "Of all the things which wisdom provides for the happiness of a lifetime, by far the greatest is friendship." Certainly, it is a thing for which human nature seems to cry out. Lord Bacon quotes an old saying: "Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god." Just as we all desire to be liked rather than to be hated, so we long to have, at least, one friend to whom we can tell everything, and who will stand by us. We envy him who has many friends. We may set it down as a truth, that if we have no friends the fault lies in ourselves. There is something lacking in us, or there is some horrid thing in our character that others cannot like. Real Friendship must be based on admiration, or liking for some quality that he who is desired as a friend possesses. The boy who lacks friends, but longs for them, must search his own heart and character to see if he cannot find out what is the matter with him.
It is better to have one or two friends than to be popular with the crowd. Some boys will do anything to be popular, even to sacrificing Friendship. It is quite a common thing for boys to make themselves out to be much worse than they really are in order to gain admiration. They will pretend to be guilty of all sorts of things in order to get others to think them more daring than themselves. The worst of it is that a boy of that kind often becomes thoroughly bad at heart.
It is in the power of every one to have at least one sincere friend; if we are willing to be unselfish, to forget ourselves, and to try to help others, we can have many. There is nothing that makes the daily life so pleasant as the companionship of a friend present, or the thought of a friend absent. Cicero said: "A true friend is he who is, as it were, a second self." But, if we wish to keep our friends, we must be prepared to make sacrifices sometimes. No man ever kept a friend for a long time without occasionally doing something to prove the warmth of his feeling for that friend. Friendships are generally broken because one or the other partner turns out selfish. Boyish Friendships would be much more lasting than they are, except for the great difficulty most boys have in "giving up" to others.
If Friendship is a sacred thing, how necessary it is to use care in making a friend! It is the sign of wisdom to have many companions, but few friends. To have many companions is to knock off our own rough corners, and to teach us the principle of "give and take." In dealing with a real friend, it should be mostly "give" and very little "take." He who tries to make a friend should begin by giving his Friendship, and give it with all his heart. But if he does that to one who is morally below his own standard, the result will be disastrous. The old Romans had a saying, taken from their poet Virgil, _Facilis descensus Averno est_, which means that it is wonderfully easy to lower one's standard of right and wrong. The poet went on to say: "But to retrace your steps, and escape to the upper air, this is a work, this is a toil."
There is nothing truer than the saying that a man is known by his friends. A man's Friendships are the test of his character. A Spanish proverb says: "Tell me whom you live with, and I will tell you who you are." When a boy leaves school to go into a bank, or other business house, his employers watch to see what friends he has. If they are not what they should be, the young man is looked upon with suspicion; he is not put into a position of trust; he may, some day, be told that his services are no longer wanted. In buying an article which we intend to last a long time, we are careful to choose the very best that can be had for the money. If a man is going to buy a horse, how careful he is to see that there is no blemish in him, and how particular he is to secure a thoroughly reliable man to look after him! And yet the same person is perhaps quite careless about the choice of his friends, though their power to yield him the greatest pleasures in life, or to bring to him the greatest sorrows, cannot be measured. Wise is he who heeds the words of the wise man:
"Enter not into the path of the wicked,
And go not in the way of evil men.
Avoid it, pass not by it,
Turn from it, and pass away.
"For they sleep not,
Except they have done mischief;
And their sleep is taken away,
Unless they cause some to fall.
"For they eat the bread of wickedness,
And drink the wine of violence.
"But the path of the just
Is as the shining light,
That shineth more and more
Unto the perfect day."
If you possess a friend who satisfies your heart and conscience, cling to him under all circumstances. If he find fault with you, be patient. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend." If he give way to wrath, give back the soft answer that turns it away.
If you cannot have the Friendship of the illustrious living, it is easy to obtain that of the illustrious dead. The Friendship of good books is one of the greatest pleasures of life. To win it, it is only necessary to form the habit of reading regularly, no matter how little at a time.
The best guide for a boy in forming Friendships is to choose none for his friend whom his father or mother would disapprove of, _if they knew all about him_.
No. XX.
GENTLEMANLINESS
+The four chief marks of a gentleman are: Honesty, Gentleness, Generosity, Modesty.+
Thackeray, who is noted among great English writers as a hater of shams, said: "Perhaps a gentleman is a rarer man than some of us think for. Which of us can point out many such in his circle--men whose aims are generous, whose truth is constant, whose want of meanness makes them simple, who can look the world honestly in the face with an equal manly sympathy for the great and small? We all know a hundred whose coats are very well made, and a score who have excellent manners, and one or two happy beings who are what they call in the inner circles, and have shot into the very centre of fashion; but of gentlemen, how many?"
These four qualities of the gentleman include more than might appear at a single glance. Honesty means far more than not stealing. The "gentleman's psalm" tells us as one of his characteristics that "he speaketh the truth in his heart." He who does that is honest in his words, in his deeds, and in his thoughts. He so hates dishonesty that honesty has become part of his life--it is in his heart. Such a man can look the world in the face without flinching. He is the most fearless of men, because he has nothing to hide from the light of day. As one great man once said of another, "He has the ten commandments stamped upon his countenance." Here, then, to be honest is to be brave also; we cannot imagine a true gentleman as a coward.
The second quality is Gentleness. It is hard for a boy to be gentle, because he spends most of the time during which he controls his own actions with other boys, and gentleness is not much called for. Some boys look upon this quality as womanish, the mark of a coward, a thing to be avoided. But what should we say of a boy who roughly handled a bird with a broken wing? All boys possess this quality of Gentleness, because it is founded on sympathy with the sufferings of the weak. If a small boy falls and breaks his arm, how eagerly the bigger boys come to his assistance, and how careful they are to touch the broken limb with all tenderness! The feeling of sympathy makes them gentle. No boy is without this God-given faculty. It is there to begin with, and if a boy wish to become a gentleman he must cultivate it, as he does his other powers. It is a faculty soon lost if we neglect it; it is easy to learn to be rough and loud-mouthed, and roughness soon leads to cruelty. The true gentleman practises Gentleness towards the weak at all times, whether they are suffering or not. The boy should learn it in his own home; that is the best and easiest place to learn it. It is easy to be gentle with one's mother; it is a bad-hearted boy who suffers himself to be rough in his speech, or rude in his manner, to her. The same rule of Gentleness should be steadily observed towards his sisters and younger and weaker brothers. He who has thus practised gentleness in his home will go out into the world a character actually trained to be gentle to those weaker than himself, and to be sympathetic towards the sorrows and sufferings of the unfortunate.
The third mark of a gentleman is Generosity. By this I do not mean open-handedness about money. Lavish liberality may be only another name for careless imprudence. By Generosity is meant the utter absence of selfishness. Aristotle called his true gentleman the magnanimous man. Generosity is large-heartedness. It involves the absence of all thought of self, and a never-failing consideration for the feelings of others. Such a man was Sir James Outram. When the English army was marching to the relief of Lucknow, Sir James, who was the senior officer, allowed Havelock to take command, and to win the glory of the siege, and himself went in a subordinate position. Of him it was said that he was "one of the bravest, and yet gentlest, of men; respectful and reverent to women, tender to children, helpful to the weak, stern to the corrupt, honest as day, and pure as virtue." When Edward the Black Prince took the French king and his son prisoners at the battle of Poictiers, he gave a banquet for them in the evening, and he insisted on waiting upon and serving them at the table. At the battle of Dettingen a squadron of French cavalry charged an English regiment, and the two leaders found themselves opposed to each other. The young French officer raised his sword to attack his opponent, when he saw that he had only one arm, with which he held his bridle. Instead of cutting him down, the Frenchman saluted him with his sword, and passed on.
The fourth mark of a gentleman is Modesty about his actions and opinions. Nothing more surely marks his opposite in society than self-assertiveness and bragging. The true gentleman never boasts of what he has done. On the other hand, he does not seek to belittle a good action for which he is praised. If such an action comes to general notice, he accepts the praise justly offered, and then seeks by silence, or by changing the topic of conversation, to withdraw particular notice from himself. He is content to do and let others talk. Sir Isaac Newton was one of the most modest men. He kept secret for a long time some of his greatest discoveries for fear of the notoriety they would bring him. He did not publish his marvellous discoveries of the Binomial Theorem and the Law of Gravitation for years, and when he published his solution of the theory of the moon's rotation round the earth he forbade the publisher to insert his name. The true gentleman is modest about his opinions. Comparatively few have deeds to boast about; but all have _opinions_ to advance. We should guard against asserting them too strongly, or attempting to force them down people's throats. If an opinion is true or valuable, it is sure to make its own way by reason of its own force; it is only weakened by the loud assertion of the man of rude manner and coarse nature. It is a wise saying of the great apostle: "Not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think." The old Hebrew poet thought the highest type of gentleman him "that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart."
No. XXI.
COURTESY
+Courtesy is kindness of heart, combined with good manners. It is the special mark of a gentleman, particularly in his treatment of those in a humbler position than himself.+
One of the most famous schools in England, founded by William of Wykeham, in the reign of Henry III., has for its motto the words, "Manners maketh the man." Though this does not express the whole truth, it is, nevertheless, undoubtedly true that many a man owes his success in life to his good manners. Two boys leaving school desire to enter a bank. One is a boy of very pleasing manners; the other, though, perhaps, possessing greater ability, is unpolished in appearance, and gruff in manner. If the bank manager has reason to believe them fairly equal in knowledge and ability, he will take the pleasant-mannered youth in preference to the other, because he believes in securing a clerk who will be civil to customers, and obliging to all with whom he comes in contact. It is worth while, then, to cultivate politeness in speech and manner. A famous woman once said: "Civility costs nothing, and buys everything."
We must be careful to distinguish between Politeness and Courtesy. Any one can learn certain rules of Politeness, even though he be coarse at heart. Some men put on Politeness with their evening coats, but are the reverse of polite in their everyday garb. To such men Politeness is like varnish or veneer; scratch them on the surface, or merely rub them the wrong way, and their real nature comes out.
Politeness is an excellent thing when it is joined to genuine kindness of heart. It then becomes Courtesy. Courtesy is Kindness and Politeness joined together and exhibited at all times to all persons, no matter what their rank in life. The man who is kind to his servant, and speaks politely to him at one time, and at another gets into a furious temper and abuses him, has not learned Courtesy. Courtesy implies a certain gentleness in dealing with other people. It is a mistake to think that Manliness and Gentleness do not go together. The strongest and most manly men are noted for their quietness of disposition. Not only are they not self-assertive, but they are actually gentle to the weak.
Courtesy comes easily to some people; to others it is difficult. Some persons are naturally open and unreserved in their nature; others are reserved and shy, and it is hard to get at them. Boys and young men often suffer far more than people think on account of shyness, which keeps them from being openly friendly with people whom they do not know well. This shyness is sometimes put down to bad temper, or moroseness, or sometimes even to a desire to be rude. How earnestly should the boy or young man strive to get rid of a failing which may be the unfortunate cause of doing him so much harm in the eyes of others!
Bacon says: "If a man be gracious and courteous to strangers, it shows he is a citizen of the world, and that his heart is no island cut off from other lands, but a continent that joins to them." If you wish to be known as a courteous man, begin at once to do little acts of kindness to others. Acts of kindness form the basis of true Courtesy. Lord Chesterfield said: "The desire to please is, at least, half the art of doing it." If we wish to learn how to get a reputation for Courtesy, we must make an effort to do what others like, though we may not care about it ourselves. Many a man owes his success in life to doing pleasant things in a pleasant way. The headmaster of one of the greatest public schools in England said: "Courtesy begets Courtesy; it is a passport to popularity. The way in which things are done is often more important than the things themselves." Another writer has said: "A good deed is never lost. He who sows Courtesy reaps friendship."
To be Courteous, we must not only do kindnesses; we must do them in a pleasing manner. "Manner will do everything. Give a young fellow on setting out in life a good manner, and he will want neither meat, drink, nor clothes. 'I like that lad,' some one says, 'he has such nice off-hand manners.'" "Sir Walter Raleigh was every inch a man, a brave soldier, a brilliant courtier, and yet a mirror of Courtesy. Nobody would accuse Sir Philip Sidney of having been deficient in manliness, yet his fine manners were proverbial. It is the Courtesy of Bayard, the knight, _sans peur et sans reproche_, which has immortalized him quite as much as his valour." Burke said: "Manners are of more importance than laws. Upon them, in a great measure, the laws depend. Manners are what vex, soothe, corrupt or purify, exalt or debase, barbarize or refine us, by a constant, steady insensible operation, like that of the air we breathe in."
Dr. Johnson once said: "Sir, a man has no more right to _say_ an uncivil thing than to act one--no more right to say a rude thing to another than to knock him down." We should be especially courteous to servants and those below us in the world. A great man returned the salute of a negro who had bowed to him. Some one told him that what he had done was very unusual. "Perhaps so," said he, "but I would not be outdone in good manners by a negro."
The truly courteous man is never caught napping. He is courteous not only in crowds, where every one can see him, or in social life, among his equals; but also in little things, at odd moments, when no one of importance is by, and to the poor and ignorant. He is courteous, too, in his own home. That, perhaps, is the final and hardest test of all. It is easy to be polite when we are out at a party of friends, though even there it is sometimes hard to show real Courtesy. In giving advice to young men, Thackeray said: "Ah, my dear fellow, take this counsel: Always dance with the old ladies, always dance with the governesses!" He meant: show your gentlehood by being kind to those who have not many friends. But it is hard to be Courteous in the home when things do not please us, and we are out with the world. Yet it is there we must begin to practise Courtesy. It is there we must learn that kindness, and cheerfulness, and good manners which will earn for us the epitaph of Tennyson's friend:
"And thus he bore without abuse
The grand old name of gentleman."
No. XXII.
REPENTANCE
+We are often sorry when we do wrong; this is the first step towards Repentance; but Repentance itself is more than being sorry; it is ceasing to do wrong, and beginning to do right.+
Man differs from the most intelligent of the lower animals in having a moral nature, called a soul; that is, he is responsible for his actions. One great evidence of this is to be found in the fact that, after he has done evil, his conscience generally reproaches him sharply, and he feels remorse, which is the keen pain brought about by the memory of wrongdoing. But we must not mistake this pain of remorse for Repentance. It should be the beginning of Repentance; but Repentance itself must go much further than that.
Two men with evil-looking faces were seen to enter a great church in Rome one day, where, in little chapels attached to the church, people were making confession of their sins to the priests, and obtaining absolution from them. These two men looked as though something very serious was weighing on their minds, as they searched for a priest to whom to confess. A short time after they had found one, they were again seen, coming down the aisle of the church, laughing together, and looking as jolly as possible. Next day they were arrested for attacking a traveller on the highway and almost murdering him. Probably those two men felt the pangs of remorse when they were in the church seeking to confess their sins. But there was no Repentance, because they went back at once to their evil courses.
A sick man was said by his doctor to be dying. His clergyman came to see him, and begged him to be reconciled to a neighbour with whom he had had a serious quarrel. At last he consented, and when the neighbour was brought to his bedside they had a short, friendly conversation, and shook hands. But as the neighbour was leaving the room, the sick man called out: "_But you must remember this stands for nothing if I get better again._" There was no real Repentance in the sick man's heart.
A man who had been living a very careless and sinful life went to hear a great man preach. The sermon had such an effect upon him that his conscience became very uneasy, and he felt keen remorse for the evil of his life, and determined to stop it all and begin again in a different way. He first went to see a neighbour who scoffed at religious things, and who, the moment he went in, began to ask him about the great preacher, and to make fun of him for paying much attention to what was "absurd, and all a lie." The man replied: "Never mind the preacher just now; I want to tell you about a very serious matter. Four years ago you lost two fine sheep out of your flock, and though you searched everywhere you could not find them. Those sheep came into my pasture field, and I caught them, and marked my brand on top of yours, and so they were not discovered. But I have now come to tell you of the matter, and to put myself in your hands. You can, if you like, have me arrested, or I will pay you whatever you ask." The neighbour was astonished, but at last said he would take the value of the sheep, with interest on the money from the time they were stolen. The man paid this down, and then doubled the amount. After he had gone his neighbour began to think that the sort of religion which made a man confess a sin long past, and which no one could ever find out, must have some reality about it, and he scoffed no more. That is a case of genuine Repentance.
Happy is the man who repents while there is yet the opportunity to undo, to some extent, the evil he has done. Some men repent when it is too late to undo the mischief. Henry II., King of England, rode from London to Canterbury in the night, and when he came to the gates he dismounted, and walked barefooted to the shrine of the martyr. He there made public confession of his sin, and was scourged with a knotted cord before the people, though he was then king. Imagine the Emperor of Germany being publicly scourged! Though Henry repented, he could not bring Becket back to life again. Henry Ward Beecher told the story of a young man who came to Indianapolis, when Mr. Beecher was minister there, on his way to settle in the west. While there he was robbed in a gambling saloon of fifteen hundred dollars, all that he had. It led to his suicide. "I know the man who committed the foul deed; he used to walk up and down the street. Now, suppose this man should repent? Can he ever call back that suicide? Can he ever wipe off the taint and disgrace that he has brought on the escutcheon of that young man's family?"
Everybody has need of practising Repentance, because no one can live a perfect life. Goldsmith said: "Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." If we rise again every time we fall, there is but little danger that we ever fall so low that we cannot rise at all, or of doing that which we cannot, to some extent, put right.
"Confess yourself to Heaven;
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come."
It is unwise to put off Repentance. It should be done now. The opportunity may slip away from us altogether. As a wise man once said: "I know that a man, going--swept down that great Niagara--if his little skiff be driven near to one shore, he can make one great bound and reach the solid ground--I know _he may be saved_ from destruction: but it is an awful risk to run."
We can best learn the value of Repentance by practising it in little things. If a boy is guilty of rudeness to any one, and especially to a lady, he should go at once and, in a manly way, acknowledge it. The fact that he has begged her pardon will keep him from committing the same offence again. If we practise Repentance in the small matters of daily life, it will be easier for us to practise it in things of great and serious moment.
No. XXIII.
CHARACTER
+The word Character comes from a Greek word meaning to cut, or engrave. By Character we mean the peculiar qualities impressed by Nature or Habit on a person; in other words, what he really is.+
Character is the crown of life; to the evil it is a crown of infamy; to the good, a crown of glory. Some scientists believe that all the facts of knowledge which we acquire are stamped upon the brain, making many grooves and creases upon its surface. Our actions and thoughts and words and habits being impressed upon the soul form its Character. The formation of good Character takes many years, and is a very gradual process; but every action has its part in the final result, and every habit binds the parts together. Bad Character is developed in the same way as good character; but the process is easy and rapid. A boy begins by stealing something; soon he is led on to lie about it. One lie leads to another, and the success of the bad experiment leads to another theft and more lying. Bad companions soon gather round him, and the sprouting plant of evil grows like a weed. Ere long it has fastened its thousand roots in the depths of his soul.
Gibbon said: "Every man has two educations--one which he receives from others, and one, more important, which he gives himself." In the business world, the men of highest reputation value their Character above everything else, because no one can take it from them, unless they deliberately yield it. It is valued highly, because it has been earned by never-wavering effort through long years. They have educated themselves by unceasing practice to put Truth and Honour, Chastity and Courtesy, Industry and Temperance, Self-Reliance and Self-Control, Modesty and Charity, Justice and Benevolence above Cleverness and Love of Gain, which so often make a man unscrupulous in dealing with his fellows.
In the studies which have gone before, we have seen what these qualities mean. They go to make up Character. But Character cannot be produced by learning lessons about it in books. Character is the education which a man gives himself. In reading the lives of great men, we see very clearly that they began to acquire the qualities which afterwards distinguished them when they were boys. A great writer has said that Conduct is three-fourths of life. If we wish to be distinguished for Character, we must begin to practise those things which produce it while we are schoolboys.
The grand thing about Character is that it is independent of circumstances. The man who values Honour above all things cannot be put into any position where there is any real danger of losing it. After the great battle of Assaye, the native prince sent his prime minister to the Duke of Wellington to find out privately what territory and other advantages would be secured to his master in the treaty with the Indian nabobs. They offered Wellington five hundred thousand dollars for the secret information. The great general looked at him quietly for a few seconds, and then said: "It appears, then, that you are capable of keeping a secret." "Yes, certainly," replied the minister. "_Then, so am I_," said Wellington, smiling, and bowed him out of the room. Take another instance, in humble life. Once, when the Adige was in flood, the bridge of Verona was carried away, only the centre arch standing. On this was a house whose inmates called loudly for help, as this arch was slowly giving way. A nobleman called out, "I will give a hundred French louis to any one who will go to the rescue." A young peasant seized a boat, managed with great difficulty to reach the pier, and, at the risk of his life, rescued the family just in time. When they reached the shore, the count handed the promised money to the young man. "No," said he, "I do not sell my life; give the money to these poor people, who need it."
The man of noble Character values, above all other things, these: Truth, personal Honour, Moral Courage, Unselfishness, the Voice of Conscience. Chaucer, the father of English poetry, said:
"Truth is the highest thing that man may keep."
In the days of chivalry, the noble-hearted soldier sang to her who wept at his going:
"I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more."
Of Courage, Addison said:
"Unbounded courage and compassion joined,
Tempting each other in the victor's mind,
Alternately proclaim him good and great,
And make the hero and the man complete."
Of Selfishness, Shelley said:
"How vainly seek
The selfish for that happiness denied
To aught but virtue!"
The voice of Conscience is the voice of God, That voice was never yet disregarded without suffering; to reject Conscience is to incur retribution. The wise man cultivates his Conscience; that is, he listens for its warnings and suggestions, and yields his desires at its call. The man of Character seeks its advice at every important movement of his life.
It is impossible to build up a noble Character without a model. Before beginning to erect a magnificent building, the architect must provide a plan for the workman to follow. The shipbuilder requires a model for the construction of a beautiful racing yacht. Before making a new and intricate machine, the craftsman must have a working model. In the building of Character, the working model is Jesus of Nazareth. He is the example to the human race of all the traits of true manliness which men admire. He is the model of willing Obedience, of undaunted Courage, of absolute Truthfulness, of Generosity, of Gentleness to the weak and suffering. He is the model of all the virtues. An old poet said of Jesus, with the greatest reverence, that He was
"The first true gentleman that ever lived."
He who sincerely wishes to build up his life into noble Character will be helped by nothing so much as by the study of the actions and words of Jesus, the model of nobleness to all men, in all ages, since He came into the world.
No. XXIV.
CONSCIENCE
+Conscience is that faculty of the mind which teaches us to distinguish between right and wrong. It often warns us when we are about to do wrong, and reproaches us for the wrong we have done.+
A great man once said that when he was a small boy he was walking one day by the side of a pond, when he saw a turtle creeping out of the water. He had never yet killed anything, and he felt a great temptation to kill it with his stick, when some one seemed to whisper to him: "It is wrong." He went home and asked his mother what it was. She told him that men called it Conscience; but she called it the voice of God, speaking in his heart. He said that he often afterwards tried to listen for the voice, and it kept him from much wrong that he would otherwise have done.
Conscience has been compared to the needle in the sailor's compass; by its means the ship is kept upon her proper course. If we consult Conscience, we cannot go far astray. A boy is about to steal some money for the first time. Just as his hand is upon it, he fancies he hears steps approaching. He hastily drops the money, and turns away with a beating heart. But he finds he is mistaken, and, perhaps, thinks it was only imagination. He is wrong; the beating heart and the imaginary noises are Conscience warning him that he is about to do wrong. If he is an unthinking boy, he merely laughs at his fears, and next day goes back again. This time he _listens for the sound of steps_, but he does not hear them. The fact that he listened shows that Conscience has been at him again; but this time the warning is fainter, and he commits the theft. It is possible to stifle Conscience altogether.
According to an Eastern tale, a great magician presented his prince with a ring of great value. Its value did not consist in the precious stones it contained, but in a peculiar property of the metal. Whenever the prince had a bad or lustful thought, or meditated a bad action, or was about to say a wicked, or cruel, or unjust thing, the ring contracted, and the pain caused by the pressure on the finger warned him against the evil. The poorest person may possess and wear such a ring as that, for the ring of the fable is just that Conscience which is the voice of God in our hearts.
When Macbeth was on his way to murder King Duncan, he had a frightful vision of what he was about to do, and he saw an imaginary dagger beckoning him the way that he was going; the handle was towards his hand, and had gouts of blood upon it. That was Conscience calling upon him to stop before it was too late. Conscience sometimes speaks to us while we are actually doing evil.
While Conscience speaks to us about what are, for us, great wrongs, it seldom does so about little wrongs until they are over and passed away. A boy says: "I do many things of which I am ashamed, and which I would not have done had Conscience warned me." That shows us very plainly that Conscience is a thing we must cultivate if it is to be of any real service to us in the way of preventing us from the doing of evil. A. says to B.: "I am going across to the corner store for some candy. If that master over there should see me, you tell him I have just gone over the fence after something." B. thinks for a moment, and says: "Can't do it; it's not straight." A. then asks C., who agrees to do it. B. consults Conscience; C. does not. If they go on thus, in a few years B. will meet some great temptation and overcome it; C. will meet some great temptation, and fall under it.
If we do not form the habit of looking to Conscience for guidance, the time will come when its voice will be heard reproaching us for the evil that we have done, and that we can never undo. So common is it for men to think of Conscience only when the harm is done that it has been called "the awful compulsion to think." Half the grief that people suffer is through their own sins in the past, and it is Conscience pricking them that causes the grief. Sometimes this grief is so terrible that men, and even women, are led to take their own lives. He who listens to Conscience will never leave this world with the red blot of "suicide" staining his character.
Dr. Johnson said: "Conscience is the sentinel of virtue." The wise captain never lets his men sleep on the field without posting one or more sentinels. The young man going out into the world is going on to the battlefield of his life, and to be caught napping is to fall into the enemy's hands. He needs all his forces, and, above all, the sentinel, Conscience, to keep guard when the enemy is lying in ambush, and danger seems far away. St. Paul tells us that if we wish to war a good warfare we must have two things, "Faith, and a good Conscience."
"No whip cuts so sharply as the lash of Conscience."
"The voice of Conscience is so delicate that it is easy to stifle it; but it is also so clear that it is impossible to mistake it."
End of Project Gutenberg's Short Studies in Ethics, by John Ormsby Miller
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Short Studies in Ethics: An Elementary Text-Book for SchoolsChapter III: Part 3
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