Chapter V: Part 5

It is energy that makes the difference in men. It is the genius of persevering energy that carries so many men straight to the goal of success. It is energy that sheds the light of hope on pathways that had been lost save for that, and thus enables so many men and women to persevere therein. It is energy that calls upon all—and calls upon you—to rouse yourself. Would you make a success of life? Would you acquire fortune or renown? It bids you take heart and hope for the best. It bids you walk in the paths of patience, to do with all your might what you have marked out as necessary to do. It bids you pursue it with resolution and vigor.

A young man is, in the true sense of the word, the architect of his own fortune. Rely upon your own strength of body and soul. Remember that the man who wills it can go almost anywhere or do almost any thing he determines to do. You must make yourself, or come to nothing. You must win by your own exertions, and not wait for some one to come to your assistance. Take for your star self-reliance, faith, honesty, and industry. Keep at the helm, and, above all, remember that the great art of commanding is to do a fair share of the work yourself. The greater the difficulty the more the glory in surmounting it. Skillful pilots gain their reputation from storms and tempests. The soul of every great achievement is energy; but enervation and indolence sap its life, and doom the man to obscurity and ill-success. Men of feeble action are accustomed to attribute their misfortune to what is termed _ill luck_. They envy the men who climb the ladder of eminence, and call them lucky men and men of peculiar opportunity. This is a vain and foolish imagination. Energy produces good fortune and success, while enervation breeds misfortune and ill luck.

Fortune, success, fame, position are never gained but by determinedly and bravely persevering in any course until the plans are finally accomplished. In short, you must carry a thing through if you want to be any body or any thing, no matter if it does cost you the pleasure of society, the thousand pearly gratifications of life. Stick to the thing and carry it through. Believe you were made for the matter, and that no one else could do it. Put forth your whole energies. Be awake; electrify yourself; go forth to the task. Learn to carry it through, and you will be a hero. You will think better of yourself. Others will think better of you. The world in its very heart admires the stern, determined doer. It sees in him its best sights, its brightest objects, its richest treasures. Proceed with energy, then, in whatever you undertake. Consider yourself amply sufficient for the deed, and you will succeed.

Amongst the elements which conduce to success in life there is one of rare value, which, by some strange oversight, is classed as of little account. We refer to punctuality. We regard it as a virtue. To be punctual in all of your appointments is a duty resting upon you no less obligatory than the duty of common honesty. An appointment is a contract, and if you do not keep it you are dishonestly using other people's time, and, consequently, their money. "Punctuality," says Louis XIV, "is the politeness of kings." He need not have confined his remarks to blood royal; it is politeness in every body; and know that whenever you fail to meet an engagement promptly, which by exertion you might have done, you are guilty of a gross breach of etiquette.

It is certainly impolite to do a wrong to others and when you have made an appointment with another person you owe him punctuality, and you have no right to waste his time if you have your own. Success and happiness depend in a far higher degree on punctuality than many suppose. It is not sufficient to do the right thing, nor in the right way, but it must be done at the right time as well, if we would reap the rewards of our labor. But when so done its effect in the problem of success is great and efficacious. Lord Nelson attributed all his success in life to his habit of strict punctuality. Many of our most successful business men date their success from the time they commenced to practice this virtue. Thousands have failed in life from carelessness in this respect alone. Nothing inspires confidence in a business man sooner than this quality; nor is there any habit which sooner saps his reputation as a good business man than that of being always behind time.

Lack of punctuality is not only a serious vice in itself, but it is also the parent of a large progeny of other vices. Hence he who becomes its victim is the more and more involved in toils from which it is almost impossible to escape. He who needlessly breaks his appointments shows that he is as reckless of the waste of other people's time as of his own. His acquaintances readily conclude that the man who is not conscientious about his appointments will be equally careless about his other engagements, and they will refuse to trust him with matters of importance. To the busy man time is money, and he who robs him of it does him as great an injury, as far as loss of property is concerned, as if he had picked his pockets or paid him with a forged or counterfeit bill.

It is a familiar truth that punctuality is the life of the universe. The planets keep exact time in their revolutions, each as it circles around the sun coming to its place yearly at the very moment it is due. So, in business, punctuality is the soul of industry, without which all its wheels come to a dead stand. If the time of a business man be properly occupied every hour will have its appropriate work. If the work of one hour be postponed to another it must encroach upon the time of some other duty, or remain undone, and thus the whole business of the day is thrown into disorder. If that which is first at hand be not instantly, steadily, and regularly dispatched other things accumulate behind, till affairs begin to accumulate all at once, and no human brain can stand the pressure.

Punctuality should be made not only a point of courtesy but a point of conscience. The beginner in business should make this virtue one of the first objects of professional acquisition. Let him not deceive himself with the idea that it is easy of attainment, or that he can practice it by and by, when the necessity of it shall be more cogent. If in youth it is not easy to be punctual, then in after life, when the character is fixed, when the mental and moral faculties have acquired a rigidity, to unlearn the habit of tardiness is almost an impossibility. It still holds a man enthralled, though the reason be fully convinced of its criminality and inconvenience.

A right estimate of the value of time is the best and surest foundation for habits of punctuality, for you are not likely to economize time, either for yourself or others, unless you fully realize how valuable it is, and when lost how utterly irreclaimable. The successful men in every calling have had a keen sense of the value of time—they have been misers of minutes. Hence you must try and realize the value of time. Each hour, as it passes swiftly away, is gone _forever_. Lost wealth may be replaced by toil and industry; lost friends may be regained by consideration and patience; lost health may be recovered by medical skill and care; even lost happiness and peace of mind may be restored; but lost time, never. Whilst you read these lines it is being numbered with the dead past and dying present. There is no recalling it; there is no regaining it; there is no restoring it. You must make the most of time as it flies. You have no right to waste your own, still less, then, that of others, by your lack of punctuality.

Not only should a person be thus punctual in all his express engagements and appointments, but in all his implied ones as well. If he has a regular hour for his shop or office, let it find him there, at his desk and at work. Punctuality in the performance of known duties other than the keeping of appointments is also one of the chief promoters of success in life. If a certain work or other duty is to be performed, we are too prone to put it off for a more convenient season. Such delays are often a fruitful source of after troubles. How many business men have been brought to bankruptcy and ruin by the failure of one man to meet his obligations promptly! How many times are we put to great work and expense because we neglected, or put off, the performance of admitted duties! It is easy to say, "Wait awhile;" so easy to let the burden of to-day's work and duties fall on to-morrow. But when to-morrow comes it has its own peculiar duties, and the result is, we simply have extra burdens to meet when the time finally comes that our work can no longer be delayed.

Punctuality is a virtue that can give force and power to an otherwise utterly insignificant character. Like charity, it covers a multitude of sins. It were easy to show by examples from the lives of great men that their success in life was owing in a large measure to their habits of punctuality. All great commanders have possessed this faculty in an eminent degree. The reason punctuality is such an invariable element of success is not hard to determine. The punctual person, one who always lives up to his engagements, and is prompt in fulfilling his implied duties as well, is just the person whose business is conducted after the most approved forms and methods. They are the ones who have time at their disposal to cast their eyes over the field of legitimate enterprise, and at once adopt whatever may seem to them to possess real excellence. Having met all their engagements promptly, their word is as good as their bond, their credit unshaken; in short, every avenue of success is open to them.

But with those persons who are habitually behind in the fulfillment of their duties, their business is generally in a very unsettled state. They have not that freshness and business vivacity and life which is always observable in the man who drives his business instead of allowing it to drive him. What wonder, then, that they sink beneath the load of accumulated cares, give up the great battle of life in despair, and are content to fill a subordinate place in the economy of the world? Would that young men thought more of what is involved in punctuality! It is not merely the "being on time," but it imports such a habit that, carried into life, it is one of the main instruments in making real youthful dreams of success. It is that which makes business a pleasure instead of a drudgery. It is that which goes so far in building up a reputation of sagacity, skill, and integrity.

No one can have a high opinion of a person who is so regardless of punctuality, even in small matters, as to be continually breaking his word, under the impression that "it is of no consequence," as so many often say, to excuse their habit of being false to their word. There are some persons who seldom, or never, do as they promised. We know persons, who in other respects are worthy people, who can scarcely command confidence, because they are so slack in fulfilling their engagements and meeting their obligations in small matters. We know young men of promise who are daily losing ground among their acquaintances for a similar reason. A man will soon ruin himself this way. In all business transactions, in all engagements, let all do exactly as they say,—be punctual to the minute; even a little beforehand is far preferable to being a little behind time. Such a habit secures a composure which is essential to happiness.

In this day, when so many things are clamoring for attention, the first law of success may be said to be concentration. It is impossible to be successful in every branch of business, or renowned in every department of a professional life. We must learn to bend our energies to one point, and to go directly to that point, looking neither to the right nor to the left. It has been said that a great deal of the wisdom of a man in this century is shown in leaving things unknown, and a great deal of his practical ability in leaving things undone. The day of universal scholarships is past. Life is short, and art is long. The range of human wisdom has increased so enormously that no human brain can grapple with it, and the man who would know one thing well must have the courage to be ignorant of a thousand other things, however attractive or interesting. As with knowledge, so with work. The man who would get along must single out his specialty, and into that must pour the whole stream of his activity—all the energies of his hand, eye, tongue, heart, and brain. Broad culture, many-sidedness, are beautiful things to contemplate; but it is the narrow-edged men—the men of one single and intense purpose—who steel the soul against all things else, that accomplish the hard work of the world.

The great men of every age who have had the arduous task to shape human destiny have been men of one idea impelled by resolute energy. Take those names that are historic, and, with the exception of a few great creative minds, you find them to be men who are identified with some one achievement upon which their life force was spent. The great majority of men must concentrate their energies upon the complete mastery of some one profession, trade, or calling, or they will experience the disappointment of those whose empire has been lost in the ambition of universal conquest. A man may have the most dazzling talents, but if they are scattered upon many objects he will accomplish nothing. Strength is like gunpowder: to be effective it needs concentration and aim. The marksman who aims at the whole target will seldom hit the center. The literary man or philosopher may revel among the sweetest and most beautiful flowers of thought, but unless he gathers or condenses these in the honeycomb of some great thought or work, his finest conceptions will be lost or useless.

The world has few universal geniuses who are capable of mastering a dozen languages, arts, or sciences, or driving a dozen callings abreast. Beginners in life are perpetually complaining of the disadvantages under which they labor; but it is an indisputable fact that more persons fail from a multiplicity of pursuits and pretensions than from a poverty of resources. "The one prudence in life," says a shrewd American essayist, "is concentration, the one evil is dissipation; and it makes no difference whether our dissipations are coarse or fine, property and its cares, friends and a social habit, politics, music, or feasting. Every thing is good which takes away one plaything and delusion more, and drives us home to add one stroke of faithful work." The gardener does not suffer the sap to be driven into a thousand channels merely to develop a myriad of profitless twigs. He prunes the branches, and leaves the vital juices to be absorbed by a few vigorous, fruit-bearing branches.

While the highest ability accomplishes but little if scattered on a multiplicity of objects, on the other hand, if one has but a thimbleful of brains, and concentrates them upon the thing he has in hand, he may achieve miracles. Momentum in physics, if properly directed, will drive a tallow candle through an inch board. Just so will oneness of aim and the direction of the energies to a single pursuit, while all others are waived, enable the veriest weakling to make his mark where he strikes. The general who scatters his soldiers all about the country insures defeat; so does he whose attention is diffused through innumerable channels, so that it can not gather in force on any one point. The human mind, in short, resembles a burning-glass, whose rays are intense only as they are concentrated. As the glass burns only when its rays are converged to a focal point, so the former illumes the world of science, literature, or business only when it is directed to a solitary object. What is more powerless than the scattered clouds of steam as they rise to the sky? They are as impotent as the dew-drop that falls nightly upon the earth; but concentrated and condensed in a steam boiler they are able to cut through solid rock, to hurl mountains into the sea, and to bring the antipodes to our doors.

It is the lack of concentration and wholeness which distinguishes the shabby, half-hearted, and blundering—the men who make the mob of life—from those who win victories. In slower times success might have been won by the man who gave but a corner of his brain to the work in hand, but in these days of keen competition it demands the intensest application of the thinking faculty. Exclusive dealings in worldly pursuits is a principle of hundred-headed power. By dividing his time among too many objects, a man of genius often becomes diamond dust instead of diamond. The time spent by many persons in profitless, desultory reading would, if concentrated upon a single line of study, have made them masters of an entire branch of literature or science. Distraction of pursuits is the rock upon which most unsuccessful persons split in early life. In law, in medicine, in trade, in the mechanical professions the most successful persons have been those who have stuck to one thing. Nine out of ten men lay out their plans on too vast a scale, and they who are competent to do almost any thing do nothing, because they never make up their minds distinctly as to what they want or what they intend to be.

We are often compelled to a choice of acquisitions, for there are some things the possession of which is incompatible with the possession of others, and the sooner this truth is known and recognized the better the chances of success and happiness. Much material good must be resigned if we would attain the highest degree of moral excellence, and many spiritual joys must be foregone if we resolve at all risks to win great material advantages. To strive for a high personal position, and yet expect to have all the delights of leisure; to labor for vast riches, and yet to ask for freedom from anxiety and care, and all the happiness which flows from a contented mind; to indulge in sensual gratifications, and yet demand health, strength, and vigor; to live for self, and yet to look for the joys that spring from a virtuous and self-denying life—is to ask for impossibilities.

If you start for success you must expect to pay its price. It can not be won by feeble, half-way efforts, neither is it to be acquired because sought for in a dozen different directions. It demands that you bring to your chosen profession or calling energy, industry, and, above all, that singleness of purpose which is willing to devote the energies of a life-time to its accomplishment. Mere wishing and sighing brings it not. Many little calls of society on your time must pass unheeded. You can not expect to live tranquilly and at your ease, but to be up and doing, with all your energies devoted to the one point kept constantly in view. Cultivate this habit of concentration if you would succeed in business; make it a second nature. Have a work for every moment, and mind the moment's work. Whatever your calling, master all its bearings and details, all its principles, instruments, and applications. We have so much work ahead of us that must be done if we would reach the point desired that we must save our strength as much as possible. Concentration affords a great safe-guard against exhaustion. He who scatters himself on many objects soon loses his energy, and with his energy his enthusiasm—and how is success possible without enthusiasm?

It becomes, then, of importance to be sure we have started right in the race for distinction. Every beginner in life should strive early to ascertain the strong faculty of his mind or body fitting him for some special pursuit, and direct his utmost energies to bring it to perfection. There is no adaptation or universal applicability in man; but each has his special talent, and the mastery of successful men is in adroitly keeping themselves where and when that turn shall need oftenest to be practiced.

Though one must be wholly absorbed to win success, still singleness of aim by no means implies monotony of action; but if we would be felt on this stirring planet, if we would strike the world with lasting force, we must be men of one thing. Having found the thing we have to do we must throw into it all the energies of our being, seeking its accomplishment at whatever hazard or sacrifice. But that does not prevent us from participating in the enjoyments of life. If you are sent on business to some foreign land, though bent on business, still you can admire, as you hurry along, the beautiful scenery from the car windows; you can note the strange places through which you pass; you can observe the wondrous sublimity of the ocean without being distracted from the main objects of your travels. So it is not to be inferred from what has been said that concentration means isolation or self-absorption. There may be a hundred accessories in life, provided they contribute to one result.

In urging the importance of concentration, and of sticking to one thing, we do not mean that any man should be a mere lawyer, a mere doctor, or a mere merchant or mechanic, and nothing more. These are cases of one-sidedness pushed too far. There is no more pitiable wreck than the man whose one giant faculty has drowned the rest. Man dwarfs himself if he pushes too far the doctrine of the subdivision of labor. Success is purchased too dear if to attain it one has subordinated all his faculties and tastes to one master passion, and become transformed into a head, a hand, or an arm, instead of a man. Every man ought to be something more than a factor in some grand formula of social or economical science, a cog or pulley in some grand machine.

Let every one take care, first of all, to be a man, cultivating and developing, as far as possible, all of his powers on a symmetrical plan; and then let him expend his chief labors on the one faculty, which nature, by making it prominent, has given a hint should be especially cultivated. There is, indeed, no profession upon which a high degree of knowledge will not continually bear. Things which, at first glance, seem most remote from it will often be brought into close approximation to it, and acquisitions which the narrow-minded might deem a hindrance will sooner or later yield something serviceable. Nothing is more beautiful than to see a man hold his art, trade, or calling in an easy, disengaged way, wearing it as the soldier does his sword, which, once laid aside, the accomplished soldier gives you no hint that he has ever worn. Too often this is not the case, and the shop-keeper irresistibly reminds you of the shop, and the scholar, who should remind you that he has been on Parnassus only by the odors of the flowers he has crushed, which cling to his feet, affronts you with a huge nosegay stuck in his bosom.

One can make all his energies bear on one important point and yet show himself a man among men by his interest in matters of public concern. He can endear himself to the community by kindly acts to the distressed, as well as completely mastering, in all its bearings, the one great work which he has taken upon himself as his life's work. Then take up your task. Remember that you must marshall all your forces at one point, and move in one direction, if you would accomplish what your desires have painted; but also remember that you are a human being, and not a machine, and that as you pass on the journey of life you should, as far as possible, without insuring defeat, take note of the wonders which nature has spread before you, should ponder on what history says of the past, should muse over the solemn import of life, and thus, while winning laurels for your brow, and achieving your heart's desire, develop in you the faculties which go to make, in its complete meaning, a man or woman.

There is one quality of mind which of all others is most likely to make our fortunes if combined with talents, or to ruin them without it. We allude to that quality of the mind which under given circumstances acts with a mathematical precision. With such minds to resolve and to act is instantaneous. They seem to precede the march of events, to foresee results in the chrysalis of their causes, and to seize that moment for exertion which others use in deliberation. There are occasions when action must be taken at once. There is no time to long and carefully calculate the chances. The occasion calls for immediate action; and the call must be met, or the time goes by, and our utmost exertions can not bring it back. At such times is seen the triumph of those who have carefully trained all their faculties to a habit of prompt decision. They seize the occasion, and make the thought start into instant action; they at once plan and perform, resolve and execute.

It is but a truism to say that there can be no success in life without decision of character. Even brains are secondary in importance to will. The intellect is but the half of a man; the will is the driving-wheel, the spring of motive power. A vacillating man, no matter what his abilities, is invariably pushed aside in the race of life by one of determined will. It is he who resolves to succeed, and at every fresh rebuff begins resolutely again, that reaches the goal. The shores of fortune are covered with the stranded wrecks of men of brilliant abilities, but who have wanted courage, faith, and decision, and have therefore perished in sight of more resolute, but less capable adventurers, who succeeded in making port. Hundreds of men go to their graves in obscurity who have remained obscure only because they lacked the pluck to make the first effort, and who, could they only have resolved to begin, would have astonished the world by their achievements and successes.

To do any thing in this world that is worth doing we must not stand shivering on the bank, and thinking of the cold and the danger, but jump in and scramble through as well as we can. The world was not made for slow, squeamish, fastidious men, but for those who act promptly and with power. Obstacles and perplexities every man must meet, and he must either conquer them or they will conquer _him_. Hesitation is a sign of weakness, for inasmuch as the comparative good and evil of the different modes of action about which we hesitate are seldom equally balanced, a strong mind should perceive the slightest inclination of the beam with the glance of an eagle, particularly as there will be cases where the preponderance will be very _minute_, even though there should be life in one scale and death in the other. It is better occasionally to decide wrong than to be forever wavering and hesitating, now veering to this side and then to that, with all the misery and disaster that follow from continual doubt.

It has been truly said that the great moral victories and defeats of the world often turn on minutes. Fortune is proverbially a fickle jade, and there is nothing like promptness of action, the timing of things at the lucky moment, to force her to surrender her favors. Crises come, the seizing of which is triumph, the neglect of which is ruin. It is this lack of promptness, so characteristic of the gladiatorial intellect, of this readiness to meet every attack of ill-fortune with counter resources of evasion, which causes so many defeats of life.

There is a race of narrow wits that never succeed for want of courage. Their understanding is of that halting, hesitating kind, which gives just light enough to see difficulties and start doubts, but not enough to surmount the one or remove the other. They do not know what force of character means. They seem to have no backbone, but only the mockery of a vertebral column made of india-rubber, equally pliant in all directions. They come and go like shadows, sandwich their sentences with apologies, are overtaken by events while still irresolute, and let the tide ebb before they feebly push off. Always brooding over their plans, but never executing them. It is scarcely possible to conceive of a more unhappy man than one afflicted with this infirmity. It has been remarked that there are persons who lack decision to such a degree that they seem never to have made up their mind which leg to stand upon; who deliberate in an agony of choice when not a grain's weight depends upon the decision, or the question what road to walk upon, what bundle of hay to munch first; to be undetermined where the case is plain and the necessity so urgent; to be always intending to lead a new life, but never finding time to set about it. There is nothing more pitiable in the world than such an irresolute man thus oscillating between extremes, who would willingly join the two, but does not perceive that nothing can unite them.

Indecision is a slatternly housewife, by whose fault the moth and rust are allowed to make such dull work of life. "A man without decision," says John Foster, "can never be said to belong to himself, since if he dared to assert that he did the puny force of some cause about as powerful, you would have supposed, as a spider, may make a seizure of the unhappy boaster the very next minute, and contemptuously exhibit the futility of the determinations by which he was to have proved the independence of his understanding and will." He belongs to whatever can make capture of him; and one thing after another vindicates its right to him by arresting him while he is trying to proceed, as twigs and chips floating near the edge of a river are intercepted by every weed, and whirled in every little eddy. Having concluded on a design, he may pledge himself to accomplish it, if the hundred diversities of feeling which may come within the week will let him. His character precludes all foresight of his conduct. He may sit and wonder what form and direction his views and actions are destined to take to-morrow, as a farmer has often to acknowledge that next day's proceedings are at the disposal of its winds and clouds.

A great deal of the unhappiness and much of the vice of the world is owing to weakness and indecision of purpose. The will, which is the central force of character, must be trained to habits of decision; otherwise it will neither be able to resist evil nor to follow good. Decision gives the power of standing firmly when to yield, however slightly, might be only the first step in a down-hill course to ruin. Calling upon others for help in forming a decision is worse than useless. A man must so train his habits as to rely upon his own powers, and to depend upon his own courage in moments of emergency. Many are the valiant purposes formed that end merely in words; deeds intended that are never done; designs projected that are never begun; and all for the want of a little courageous decision. Better far the silent tongue, but the eloquent deed; and the most decisive answer of all is _doing_. There is nothing more to be admired than a manly firmness and decision of character. We admire a person who knows his own mind and sticks to it, who sees at once what is to be done in given circumstances, and does it.

There never was a time in the world's history that called more earnestly upon all persons to cultivate a firm, manly decision of character, to be able to say No to the seductive power of temptation. There is no more beautiful trait of character to be found than that of a determined will guided by right motives. To talk beautifully is one thing, but to act with promptitude when the time of action has fully come is as far superior to the former as the brilliant sunlight surpasses the reflection of the moon. To train the mind to act with decision is of no less consequence than of acting promptly when the decision is reached. Of all intellectual gifts bestowed upon man there is nothing more intoxicating than readiness—the power of calling all the resources of the mind into simultaneous action at a moment's notice. Nothing strikes the unready as so miraculous as this promptitude in others; nothing impresses him with so dull and envious a sense of contrast with himself. This want of decision is to be laid on the shelf, to creep where others fly, to fall into permanent discouragement. To possess decision is to have the mind's intellectual property put out at fifty or one hundred per cent; to be uncertain at the moment of trial is to be dimly conscious of faculties tied up somewhere in a napkin. Decision of mind, like vigor of body, is a gift of God. It can not be created by human effort; it can only be cultivated. But every mind has the germ of this quality, which can be strengthened by favorable circumstances and motives presented to the mind, and by method and order in the prosecution of duties or tasks.

But with all that has been urged in favor of decision and dispatch, we would not be understood as advising undue haste. There are occasions when caution and delay are necessary, when to act without long and careful deliberation would be madness. But when the way is clear, when there is no doubt as to what ought to be done, then it is that decision demands that an instant choice be made between the two—not to hesitate too long as to which, but to decide promptly, and then move ahead. Even in cases where deliberation and caution are necessary, decision demands that the mind acts quickly. In a word, decision finds us engaged in a life-battle. If the victory is ours, success and fortune wait upon us; if we are overthrown, want and misery stare us in the face; it is well to make our movements only with caution, but when we see a chance we must at once improve it, or it is gone. Occasions also arise when we must rouse our forces on an instant's warning, and to make movements for which we have no time to calculate the chances. Then is seen the triumph of the decisive, ready man. To falter is to be lost; to move with dispatch is the only safety.

Both poetry and philosophy are prodigal of eulogy over the mind which rescues itself, by its own energy, from a captivity to custom, which breaks the common bonds of empire and cuts a Simplon over mountains of difficulty for its own purposes, whether of good or of evil. We can not help admiring such a character. It is a positive relief to turn from the contemplation of those relying on some one else for a solution of the difficulties that surround them to those who are strong in their own self-reliance, who, when confronted with fresh trials and difficulties, only put on a more determined mien, and more resolutely apply their own powers to remove the obstacle so unexpectedly put in their way. There is no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit than a vague desire for help, a wish to depend, to lean upon somebody and enjoy the fruits of the industry of others.

In the assurance of strength there is strength, and they are the weakest, however strong, who have no faith in themselves or their powers. Men often conquer difficulties because they think they can. Their confidence in themselves inspires confidence in others. The man who makes every thing that conduces to happiness to depend upon himself, and not upon other men, on whose good or evil actions his own doings are compelled to hinge, has adopted the very best plan for living happily. This is the man of moderation, the possessor of manly character and wisdom. By self-reliance is not meant self-conceit. The two are widely different. Self-reliance is cognizant of all the ills of earthly existence, and it rests on a rational consciousness of power to contend with them. It counts the cost of the conflict with real life, and calmly concludes that it is able to meet the foes which stand in frowning array on the world's great battle-field. Self-conceit, on the other hand, is a vainglorious assertion of power. It knows not the real difficulties it has to contend with, and is too supercilious to inquire into them. It rejects well-meant offers of counsel or assistance. It feels above taking advice. The unhappy possessor of such a trait of character is far from being a self-reliant man.

It has been said God never intended that strong, independent beings should be reared by clinging to others, like the ivy to the oak, for support. The difficulties, hardships, and trials of life—the obstacles one encounters on the road to fortune—are positive blessings. They knit his muscles more firmly, and teach him self-reliance, just as by wrestling with an athlete who is superior to us we increase our own strength and learn the secret of his skill. All difficulties come to us, as Bunyan says of temptation, like the lion which met Sampson, the first time we encounter them they roar and gnash their teeth, but once subdued we find a nest of honey in them. Peril is the very element in which power is developed. Don't rely upon your friends, nor rely upon the name of your ancestor. Thousands have spent the prime of life in the vain hope of help from those whom they called friends, and many thousands have starved because they had a rich father.

Rely upon the good name which is made by your own exertions, and know that better than the best friend you can have is unconquerable determination of spirit, united with decision of character. Seek such attainments as will enable you to confide in yourself, to rise equal to your emergencies. Strive to acquire an inward principle of self-support. Help yourself and heaven will help you, should be the motto of every man who would make himself useful in the world or carve his way to riches and honor. It is an old saying, "He who has lost confidence can lose nothing more." The man who dares not follow his own independent judgment, but runs perpetually to others for advice, becomes at last a moral weakling and an intellectual dwarf. Such a man has not self within him, and believes in no self, but goes as a suppliant to others and entreats of them, one after another, to lend him theirs. He is, in fact, a mere element of a human being, and is borne about the world an insignificant cipher, unless he desperately fastens to other floating and supplementary elements, with which he may form a species of incorporation resembling a man. Any young man who will thus part with freedom and the self-respect that grows out of self-reliance and self-support is unmanly, neither deserving of assistance nor capable of making good use of it.

Hardship is the native soil of manhood and self-reliance. Opposition is what we want and must have to be good for any thing. Men seem neither to understand their riches nor their own strength. Of the former they believe greater things than they should; of the latter, much less. Self-reliance and self-denial will teach a man to drink of his own cistern, and eat bread from his own kitchen, and learn to labor truly to get his living, and carefully to expend the good things committed to his care. Every youth should be made to feel that if he would get through the world usefully and happily he must rely mainly upon himself and his own independent energies. Young men should never hear any language but this: "You have your own way to make, and it depends upon your exertion whether you starve or not. Outside help is your greatest curse. It handicaps efforts, stifles aspirations, shuts the door upon emulation, turns the key upon energy." The custom of making provisions to assist worthy young men in obtaining an education is often a positive evil to the recipient. The germ of self-reliant energy, which else would have done so much for his material good, is stifled in its growth by the mistaken kindness of benevolent beings. And no mental acquisitions can compensate any young man for loss of self-reliance.

It is not the men who have been reared in affluence who have left the most enduring traces on the world. It is not in the sheltered garden or the hothouse, but on the rugged Alpine cliffs, where the storms beat most violently, that the toughest plants are reared. Men who are trained to self-reliance are ready to go out and contend in the sternest conflicts of life, while those who have always leaned for support on others around them are never prepared to breast the storms of adversity that arise. Self-reliance is more than a passive trust in one's own powers. It shows itself in an active manner; it demonstrates itself in works. It is not ashamed of its pretentions, but invites inspection and asks recognition. Because there is danger of invoicing yourself above your real value, it does not follow that you should always underrate your worth. Because to be conspicuous, honored, and known you should not retire upon the center of your own conscious resources, you need not necessarily be always at the circumference. An excess of modesty is well-nigh as bad as an excess of pride, for it is, in fact, an excess of pride in another form, though it is questionable if this be not more hurtful to the individual and less beneficial to society than gross and unblushing vanity.

It is true, we all patronize humility in the abstract, and, when enshrined in another, we admire it. It is a pleasure to meet a man who does not pique our vanity, or thrust himself between us and the object of our pretensions. There is no one who, if questioned, would not be found in the depths of his heart secretly to prefer the modest man, proportionally despising the swaggerer "who goes unbidden to the head of the feast." But while such is our deliberate verdict when taken to task in the matter, it is not the one we practically give. The man who entertains a good, stout opinion of himself always contrives somehow to cheat us out of a corresponding one, and we are too apt to acquiesce in his assumption, even though they may strike us unpleasantly. Nor need this excite our surprise. The great mass of men have no time to examine the merits of others. They are busy about their own affairs, which claim all their attention. They can not go about hunting modest worth in every nook and corner. Those who would secure their good opinion must come forward with their claims, and at least show their own confidence by backing them with vigorous assertions.

If, therefore, a man of fair talents arrays his pretensions before us, if he duns and pesters us for an admission of his merits, obtruding them upon us, we are forced at last to notice them, and, unless he fairly disgusts us by the extravagance of his claims, shocking all sense of decency, we are inclined to admit them, even in preference to superior merits, which their possessor by his own actions seem to underrate. It is too often cant by which indolent and irresolute men seek to lay their want of success at the door of the public. Well-matured and well-disciplined talent is always sure of a market, provided it exerts itself; but it must not cower at home and expect to be sought after. There is a good deal of cant, too, about the successes of forward and impudent men, while men of retiring worth are overlooked. But it usually happens that those forward men have that valuable quality of promptness and activity, without which worth is a mere inoperative quality.

The conclusion of the whole matter is, that in this busy, bustling period of the world's history self-confidence is almost an essential trait of character in one who means to get along well and win his way to success and fortune. This may exist entirely independent of self-conceit, the two being by no means necessarily concomitant. He must remember that he can not expect to have people repose confidence in his ability unless he displays confidence in them himself. If poverty be his lot, and troubles and discouragements of all kinds press upon him, let him take heart and push resolutely ahead, cultivating a strong, self-reliant disposition. By so doing he will rise superior to misfortune. He will learn to rely on his own resources, to look within himself for the means wherewith to combat the ills that press upon him. By such a course of action he takes the road which most surely leads to success.

It is a common saying that the man of practical ability far surpasses the theorist. Just what is meant by practical ability is, perhaps, hard to explain. It is more easy to tell what it is not than what it is. It recognizes the fact that life is action; that mere thoughts and schemes will avail nothing unless subsequently wrought out in action. It is an indescribable quality which results from a union of worldly knowledge with shrewdness and tact. He that sets out on the journey of life with a profound knowledge of books, but with a shallow knowledge of men, with much of the sense of others, but with little of his own, will find himself completely at a loss on occasions of common and constant recurrence.

Speculative ability is one thing, and practical ability is another; and the man who in his study or with his pen in hand shows himself capable of forming large views of life and policy, may in the outer world be found altogether unfitted for carrying them into practical effect. Speculative ability depends on vigorous thinking, practical ability in vigorous acting, and the two qualities are usually found combined in very unequal proportions. The speculative man is prone to indecision; he sees all sides of a question, and his action becomes suspended in nicely weighing the arguments for and against, which are often found nearly to balance each other; whereas the practical man overleaps logical preliminaries and arrives at certain definite convictions, and proceeds forthwith to carry his policy into action. The mere theorist rarely displays practical ability; and, conversely, the practical man rarely displays a high degree of speculative wisdom. If you try to carve a stone with a razor, the razor will lose its edge, and the stone remain uncut. A high education, unless it is practical as well as classical, often unfits a man for contest with his fellow-man. Intellectual culture, if carried beyond a certain point, is too often purchased at the expense of moral vigor. It gives edge and splendor to a man, but draws out all his temper.

In all affairs of life, but more especially in those great enterprises which require the co-operation of others, a knowledge of men is indispensable. This knowledge implies not only quickness of penetration and sagacity, but many other superior elements of character; for it is important to perceive not merely in whom we can confide, but to maintain that influence over them which secures their good faith and defeats the unworthy purpose of a wavering and dishonest mind. The world always laughs at those failures which arise from weakness of judgment and defects of penetration. Practical wisdom is only to be learned in the school of experience. Precepts and instruction are useful so far as they go; but without the discipline of real life they remain of the nature of theories only. The hard facts of existence give that touch of truth to character which can never be imparted by reading or tuition, but only by contact with the broad instincts of common men and women.

Intellectual training is to be prized, but practical knowledge is necessary to make it available. Experience gained from books, however valuable, is of the nature of learning; experience gained from outward life is wisdom; and an ounce of the latter is worth a pound of the former. Rich mental endowments, thorough culture, great genius, brilliant parts have often existed in company with very glaring deficiencies in what may be called good judgment; while there is a certain stability of judgment and soundness of understanding often displayed by those who have not an extensive education. The old sailor knows nothing of nautical astronomy. Azimuths, right ascensions, and the solution of spherical triangles have no charm and little meaning to him. But he can scan the seas and skies and warn of coming danger with a natural wisdom which all the keen intellect and ready mathematics of the young lieutenant do not afford. The man who has traveled much accumulates a store of useful information, and can give hints of practical wisdom which no deep study of geological lore or of antiquarian research could afford. The student of life rather than of books gains an understanding by experience for which no store of erudition can prove an adequate compensation. The true order of learning should be, first, what is necessary; second, what is useful; and third, what is ornamental. To reverse this arrangement is like beginning to build at the top of the edifice. Practical ability depends in a large measure on the employment of what is known as common sense, which is the average sensibility and intelligence of men undisturbed by individual peculiarities. Fine sense and exalted sense are not half as useful as common sense. There are forty men of wit for one man of sense, and he that will carry nothing but gold will be every day at a loss for readier change.

The height of ability consists in a thorough knowledge of the real value of things and of the genius of the age we live in, and could we know by what strange circumstances a man's genius becomes prepared for practical success, we should discover that the most serviceable items in his education were never entered in the bills his father paid for. That knowledge of the world which inculcates strict vigilance in regard to our individual interests and representation, which recommends the mastery of things to be held in our own hands, or which enables us to live undamaged by the skillful maneuvers and crafty plots of plausible men on the one hand or uncontaminated by the depravities of unprincipled ones on the other, is of daily acquisition and equally accessible to all.