Chapter IV: Section I: Importance of aiming high, in the formation of character

To those who have carefully examined the introduction and table of contents, I am now prepared to give the following general direction; _Fix upon a high standard of character._ To be _thought_ well of, is not sufficient. The point you are to aim at, is, the greatest possible degree of usefulness.

Some may think there is danger of setting _too high_ a standard of action. I have heard teachers contend that a child will learn to write much faster by having an _inferior copy_, than by imitating one which is comparatively perfect; 'because,' say they, 'a pupil is liable to be discouraged if you give him a _perfect_ copy; but if it is only a little in advance of his own, he will take courage from the belief that he shall soon be able to equal it.' I am fully convinced, however, that this is not so. The _more_ perfect the copy you place before the child, provided it be _written_, and not _engraved_, the better. For it must always be _possible_ in the nature of things, for the child to imitate it; and what is not absolutely impossible, every child may reasonably be expected to aspire after, on the principle, that whatever man _has done_, man _may_ do.

So in human conduct, generally; whatever is possible should be aimed at. Did my limits permit, I might show that it is a part of the divine economy to place before his rational creatures a perfect standard of action, and to make it their duty to come up to it.

He who only aims at _little_, will _accomplish_ but little. _Expect_ great things, and _attempt_ great things. A neglect of this rule produces more of the difference in the character, conduct, and success of men, than is commonly supposed. Some start in life without any leading object at all; some with a low one; and some aim high:--and just in proportion to the elevation at which they aim, will be their progress and success. It is an old proverb that he who aims at the sun, will not reach it, to be sure, but his arrow will fly higher than if he aims at an object on a level with himself. Exactly so is it, in the formation of character, except in one point. To reach the sun with a arrow is an impossibility, but a youth may aim high without attempting impossibilities.

Let me repeat the assurance that, as a general rule, _you may be whatever you will resolve to be_. Determine that you will be useful in the world, and you _shall_ be. Young men seem to me utterly unconscious of what they are capable of being and doing. Their efforts are often few and feeble, because they are not awake to a full conviction that any thing great or distinguished is in their power.

But whence came en Alexander, a Caesar, a Charles XII, or a Napoleon? Or whence the better order of spirits,--a Paul, an Alfred, a Luther, a Howard, a Penn, a Washington? Were not these men once like yourselves? What but self exertion, aided by the blessing of Heaven, rendered these men so conspicuous for usefulness? Rely upon it,--what these men once _were_, you _may be_. Or at the least, you may make a nearer approach to them, than you are ready to believe. Resolution is almost omnipotent. Those little words, _try_, and _begin_, are sometimes great in their results. 'I can't,' never accomplished any thing;--'I will try,' has achieved wonders.

This position might be proved and illustrated by innumerable facts; but one must suffice.

A young man who had wasted his patrimony by profligacy, whilst standing, one day, on the brow of a precipice from which he had determined to throw himself, formed the sudden resolution to regain what he had lost. The purpose thus formed was kept; and though he began by shoveling a load of coals into a cellar, for which he only received twelve and a half cents, yet he proceeded from one step to another till he more than recovered his lost possessions, and died worth sixty thousand pounds sterling.

You will derive much advantage from a careful perusal of the lives of eminent individuals, especially of those who were _good_ as well as great. You will derive comparatively little benefit from reading the lives of those scourges of their race who have drenched the earth in blood, except so far as it tends to show you what an immense blessing they _might_ have been to the world, had they devoted to the work of human improvement those mighty energies which were employed in human destruction. Could the physical and intellectual energy of Napoleon, the order and method of Alfred, the industry, frugality, and wisdom of Franklin and Washington, and the excellence and untiring perseverance of Paul, and Penn, and Howard, be united in each individual of the rising generation, who can set limits to the good, which they might, and inevitably would accomplish! Is it too much to hope that some happier age will witness the reality? Is it not even probable that the rising generation may afford many such examples?