Wav 1

1



Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2016

https://archive.org/details/characterformatiOOobri



qA Story of Habits and Ideals

DISCUSSION CLUB TEXT WITH OUTLINE

BY

REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, Ph.D.

The University of Notre Dame

is but one rule of conduct. Always do the right thing.

»st may be high in money, in friends, in sacrifice. The

do wrong, however, is infinitely higher. For a temporal

gain we barter the infinities.

New York

THE PAULIST PRESS
401 West 59th Street



Nihil Obstat:

Arthur J. Scanlan, S.T.D.,

Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur

:

© Francis J. Spellman, D.D.,

Archbishop of New York.

New York, September 6, 1941.

Copyright, 1941, by

The Missionary Society op St. Paul the Apostle

in the State oe New York

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED IN THE U. S. A.

BY THE PAULIST PRESS, NEW YORK, N. Y.

MUid



CHARACTER FORMATION

rriHE progress of science in the last century has revolution-

ized the world in which we live. The speed with which

news is flashed around the globe, the rapidity with which

stratoliners wing their flight from coast to coast, the clearness

with which a speech in London is heard in San Francisco, would

cause our grandparents to gasp in astonishment. Harnessing

electricity and riding astride the ether waves, science places at

the service of the peasant marvels which dwarf the feats of

Aladdin’s magic lantern. Man’s mastery of the laws of nature

has brought to us the means with which we could build a new

heaven and a new earth.

But are we? With bombs raining death and destruction

from the sky, with huge tanks plowing through the ruins of

devastated cities, man has prostituted the discoveries of science

to the dirty business of mass slaughter. In Europe and in

Asia, man has succeeded in bringing hell on earth.

If a demon escaping from the netherworld were to find

himself in the midst of the fighting going on in Europe, as

these lines are being written, what a spectacle would he see?

With Messerschmitts screeching their message of death, with

Stukas dive bombing with deafening roar, with tanks shooting

their shrapnel like lava from Mt. Vesuvius, and machine guns

beating out their ceaseless rat-a-tat-a-tat of death, the poor

creature from inferno might well ask: What new hell is this?

Give me a ticket back to Hades. It is not so terrible a place

as this.

With the means of building a Paradise on earth at his dis-

posal, why is man building an inferno? Because the develop-

[ 3 ]



ment of character has not kept pace with the progress of

science. While science in the past century has moved with the

strides of a giant, man has crawled with the slowness of a

snail, if he has crawled at all, along the path of moral progress.

He has failed in large measure to put into practice the golden

rule and Christ’s law of love. Yielding to the instincts of the

cave man, he has used the powerful instruments of modern

science to vent his cupidity, hatred and vengeance. Instead

of hurling rocks, he is throwing bombs and mechanical hurri-

canes at whole civilizations. The machine which was meant

to be his servant is becoming his master and may prove his

own undoing.

If ever there was sounded an S O S for character, for

ethical insight, and moral stamina, a world in chaos and in

agony is gasping that call now. Its flames are writing its

message on the illuminated parchment of the skies. That

message is saying: What the world needs, if it is to be saved,

is not more guns, dreadnaughts, or bombing planes—but more
character in its citizens . If humanity is to be saved from a

second deluge, the deluge of world wide war, it will be saved

only by a spiritual redemption, only by putting into practice

Christ’s all embracing law of love.

That is the message which a world in flames is proclaiming

to a frightened humanity today. It should be carried in the

headlines of all our papers, proclaimed from every pulpit,

carved over the doors of every school. It should become the

marching cry of mankind standing at the very brink of de-

struction.

The folly of trying to build a new world if we do not like-

wise improve the builder finds apt expression in the lines of

Edwin H. Markham:

We all are blind until we see

That in the human plan,

Nothing is worth the making

If it does not make the man.

[ 4 ]



Why build these cities glorious

If man unbuilded goes?

In vain we build the world unless

The builder also grows.

Meaning of Character

What do we mean by character? The word comes from

the Greek /apaxtriQ, meaning an instrument to engrave or

brand. Thence it came to signify the mark or stamp placed

upon an object as an indication of some special fact with

reference to it, as of ownership or origin. With reference to

people, character has come to mean the sum of qualities or

features by which one person is distinguished from others.

John Stuart Mill defines character as “a perfectly fashioned

will.” Perhaps as satisfactory a definition as any we can

formulate is simply this: A man of character is one who directs

his life according to principles. In contrast with the man who

acts on motives of expediency, the man of character acts on

principle. The former is changeable like the weather vane.

The latter is constant and dependable.

We use the term principle in the sense of an ethical and

moral standard. Thus the Christian martyrs acted on the prin-

ciple of unswerving loyalty to Christ, even though that loyalty

cost them their lives. The opportunist, acting on expediency,

would escape death by yielding under such trying circum-

stances. “A principle,” says Father Ernest Hull, S. J., “is

some pregnant idea relating to conduct, grasped firmly by the

mind, branded in consciousness, brooded over, elevated into

standard of action, and applied to circumstances as they

arise.”
1

Basic in the idea of character is action in conformity

to the moral law, regardless of immediate consequences to one-

self or to others.

Character is thus seen to be an inner quality by means of

which a man steadfastly adheres to ethical principles no matter

l The Formation of Character, p. 15.

[ 5 ]



what the pressure exerted by friend or foe to draw him from

his course. It is not to be identified with reputation. This

refers to what people esteem a man to be, while character

signifies what he really is. Reputation is injured by slander

and libel, while character endures defamation of every form

and is injured only by a voluntary transgression. Reputation

may last through many undetected transgressions, or it may be

destroyed by a single, even unfounded aspersion.

Character is not the same as intellectual power. For a

clever and even a brilliant man may have a weak character,

while a person of mediocre or meager mental endowment may

possess a good and strong character. Oscar Wilde and the

Cure of Ars are instances in point. The inner dynamic quality

of the soul, which we term character, may be lost and may be

recovered. It may be weakened and it may be strengthened.

It is not some mystic element wrapped by fate in the mantle

of the immutable. Neither is it sculptured in white marble,

cold and impervious to human influence. Like the human

body, it is subject to sickness and disease. Like all the

faculties of man, it is subject to the laws of exercise, of

growth and of development which hold sway throughout the

world of life.

Different From Personality

Lastly character is not to be confused with personality. The

pleasing qualities which make up personality cannot obscure

the absence of solid worth—the gold which does not glitter.
Alcibiades offers a classic illustration. Brilliant, witty, clever,

handsome, he was yet unstable and dissolute. Personality he

had in abundance, but character was woefully lacking. His

accidental juxtaposition to Socrates at a banquet presents one

of the most dramatic contrasts between personality and char-

acter in all literature.

Entering the home of Agathon, Alcibiades is welcomed up-

roariously and seated next to Socrates. Crowning him with an

ivy wreath as the peerless master of the art of conversing,

[ 6 ]



Alcibiades launches into a tribute to Socrates which Mahaffy

terms the most remarkable picture of that noble old Greek ever

drawn, setting him forth, as it does, “in all his ugliness, his

fascination, his deep sympathy, his iron courage, his unassail-

able chastity.”

Portraying the effect of this strong man’s words upon him,

Alcibiades declares: “For my heart leaps within me . . . and

my eyes rain with tears when I hear him. And I observe that

many others are affected in the same way. I have heard Peri-

cles and other great orators, but though I thought they spoke

well, I never had any similar feeling, my soul was not stirred

by them nor was I angry at my own slavish state. But this

Marsyas has often brought me to such a pass that I have

felt as if I could hardly endure the life which I am leading.

. . . For he makes me confess that I ought not to live as I

do, neglecting the wants of my soul . . . therefore, I hold my

ears and tear myself away from him. And he is the only

person who ever made me ashamed, which you might think

not to be in my nature, and there is no one else who does the

same, for I know that I cannot answer him or say that I ought

not to do as he bids, but when I leave his presence the love of

popularity gets the better of me.”
2

Alcibiades’ narrative, telling how his heart leaped within

him as he listened to Socrates, brings to mind the experience

of the two disciples walking with the Master on the way to

Emmaus. After He vanished from their sight, following the

breaking of bread they said to each other: “Was not our heart

burning within us, whilst he spoke in the way and opened to us

the scriptures?”
3 No more expressive tribute to the inspiring

character of Christ could be paid than this disclosure of the

effect of His words upon them. The words of the lowly Naza-

rene Who walked with them over the dusty roadsides of Judea,

Who washed the feet of His disciples, Who cleansed the lepers,

Who pardoned the woman taken in adultery, Who forgave the

2 Plato, The Symposium. Translated by Benjamin Jowett.
3 Luke xxiv. 32.

[ 7 ]



thief upon the cross, Who was buffeted, spat upon, mocked,

scourged, betrayed, and crucified, stirred His disciples.

Why? Because of the beauty and nobility of the character

which gave to His words a moving eloquence. “Learn of me,”

He was able to say, “for I am meek and humble of heart.”

His actions fitted perfectly into the pattern of His teaching,

into the diadem of His moral code. There were no jarring

gaps, no flagrant contradictions between word and deed which

mar the characters of so many leaders. “What you are,” said

Lowell “speaks to me so loudly that I cannot hear what you

say.” It was the character and the life of Jesus which made

the hearts of His disciples burn as they listened to His words.

II

HABIT SCULPTURES CHARACTER

TTAVING set forth what we mean by character, let us now

proceed to ask the practical questions: How cm T build

a strong character? How can I improve my character? How

can I eliminate defects which are causing it to sag under the

pressure of temptation and the strain of adversity? The an-

swers to these questions are of supreme importance. For they

constitute the key to the solution of most of the difficulties

afflicting our world today.

The answers are to be found in large part, I think, in the

knowledge of the laws of habit formation. For character is

the net resultant of heredity, environment, ideals and habit.

Heredity we cannot change. Environment frequently we can

change only in part. Our habits, however, are within our power

to sculpture as we will. Here lies our direct responsibility.

In large part our character is shaped by the habits which we

form. Long before middle life our character has hardened like

plaster in the mold of our oft repeated acts, rarely if ever to

[ 8 ]



be reset. Hence the sculptors of our character are the habits

which we form.

Habit may be described simply as the disposition whereby

one performs an action more readily. It involves both neu-

rological and psychological elements. The neurological basis of

habit may be said to be the disposition of the organism to

build itself up according to inherited tendencies and grooves of

action. The point of practical importance to note here is that

the organism tends to grow in the direction of its activity and

functioning. The French, with their facility for concise expres-

sion, state it aptly in the well-known formula, La fonction fait

Vorgane .—The function makes the organ.
In other words, an action deepens the groove in the nervous

system with every repetition, so that it may eventually be per-

formed automatically, with a minimum of conscious attention,

or even with none at all. Take for example, the pianist who

has only to glance at the musical hieroglyphics to find his

fingers reaching out and rippling through a cataract of notes.

The mere sight of the note on the music sheet touches off the

proper response because the path has been so well traversed,

the channel in the nervous system from stimulus to response

so deeply dug.

Marvels of Automatism

Not less familiar is the sight of the typist whose trained

fingers are beating out sentences while her eyes are everywhere

but on the keys. This shows how the nervous system has been

made her ally and how the action has been lowered from the

plane of a conscious striving to a mechanical reflex. So true

is this that a cartoonist has depicted the typical typist as com-

ing to the office, hanging up her hat, throwing her brains out

the window, seating herself at the typewriter and letting her

fingers go on a muscular spree.

Robert Houdin relates how at an early age he reduced to

effortless automatism complicated movements involving rapidity

of visual and tactile perception and precision of respondent

[ 9 ]



movements which constitute the foundation for success in every

kind of prestidigitation. After a month’s practice in juggling

balls in the air, he was .able to keep four balls going at once

with such ease that he was accustomed to place matter before

him to read without hesitation. After the lapse of thirty years

during which he had scarcely touched the balls, he was agree-

ably surprised to find that he could still manage to read with

ease while keeping three balls going.
1

The instance shows how the neurological grooves of habit

formed in youth persist through the years and upon the proper

stimulus are ever ready to resume their effortless functioning.

That is why games, songs, languages, manual skills acquired in

youth are never lost, but are subject to easy recall. Let a

person who learned to play a piano in childhood and who has

not touched an instrument for thirty years sit down at one,

and he will find the fingers automatically reaching out for the

keys of a selection in which he was once perfectly drilled.

Even more startling are the feats of precise co-ordination

sometimes exhibited by golfers. The writer once witnessed a

professional golfer place a ball on the crystal face of a Swiss

watch. Then taking his stance, with a mighty wallop he

drove the ball some 250 yards straight down the fairway. This,

without so much as scratching the face of the watch! Practice

had turned this series of involved movements over to the pre-

cise and effortless mechanism of automatism.

Ethical Significance

The point of ethical significance for us to note here is that

habit with its anatomical substratum enables an act to be done

easily, quickly, with a minimum of attention, and with a

tendency to be repeated. Furthermore, we form habits not

only of action but of thought. The methods we habitually pur-

sue, the criteria we employ in solving a problem, become in-

grained habits of thought which have as their neurological

l Autobiography p. 26.

[ 10 ]



counterparts deep dug channels which are traversed most

easily. The difficulty of escaping from these customary grooves

and patterns of thought at times gives rise to prejudice and

bias, and among the old usually begets a reluctance to accept

new ideas or embrace new ways. While we have pointed out

briefly the neurological basis of habit, we want to balance our

treatment by observing with St. Thomas Aquinas that habit

likewise affects a modification of the will, and thus reaches

deeply into man’s spiritual nature and exercises enormous re-

percussions therein.

Let us now proceed to set forth some of the ethical impli-

cations of habit. For before we realize it, most of us have

become mere walking bundles of habits. Habits which we

will carry with us to our dying day. So the destiny which

each one carves out for himself, both in this world and in the

world to come, may be said in truth to be the result of the

habits which he forms. The sequence is a gradual and subtle

one, worth noting. I would state it thus:

Sow a thought and reap an act.

Sow an act and reap a habit.

Sow a habit and reap a character.

Sow a character and reap a destiny.

“Habit a second nature! Habit is ten times nature,” the Duke

of Wellington exclaimed. Charged with the duty of trans-

forming awkward recruits into trained and disciplined soldiers,

this veteran had ample opportunity to see how daily drilling

completely refashioned his subjects.

Huxley2 relates the story of a practical joker who, seeing

a discharged veteran carrying his dinner under his arm, sud-

denly called out: “Attention!” Immediately the old soldier

brought his hands down rigidly to his sides, while his mutton

and potatoes fell into the gutter. Years of daily drilling had

2 Elementary Lessons in Physiology, lesson XII.

nil



so dug the path from stimulus to response into his nervous

system that the action was automatic and almost irresistible.

Fly-Wheel of Society

Few men have written with greater penetration upon habit

than William James. His chapter on this subject is a classic

which will repay frequent reading. Thus vividly does James

portray the enormous influence of habit upon society: “Habit

is thus the enormous fly-wheel of society, its most precious

conservative agent. It alone is what keeps us all within the

bounds of ordinance, and saves the children of fortune from

the envious uprisings of the poor. It alone prevents the hard-

est and most repulsive walks of life from being deserted by

those brought up to tread therein. It keeps the fisherman and

the deck-hand at sea through the winter; it holds the miner

in his darkness, and nails the countryman to his log-cabin

and his lonely farm through all the months of snow; it pro-

tects us from invasion by the natives of the desert and of the

frozen zone.

“It dooms us all to fight out the battle of life upon the lines

of our nurture or our early choice, and to make the best of a

pursuit that disagrees, because there is no other for which we

are fitted, and it is too late to begin again. It keeps different

social strata from mixing. Already at the age of twenty-five

you see the professional mannerism settling down on the young

commercial traveler, on the young doctor, on the young minis-

ter, on the young counsellor-at-law. You see the little lines of

cleavage running through the character, the tricks of thought,

the prejudices, the ways of the ‘shop,’ in a word, from which the

man can by-and-by no more escape than his coat-sleeve can

suddenly fall into a new set of folds. On the whole, it is best

he should not escape. It is well for the world that in most of

us, by the age of thirty, the character has set like plaster, and

will never soften again .
3

3 Psychology, vol. I, p. 121.

[12 ]



The first six years of a child’s life constitute the period of

supreme importance for laying the foundation of character.

It is during these impressionable years that habits are formed

with the greatest ease. Parents will do well to train the child

during these years to form correct habits of reacting emo-

tionally, volitionally, mentally so that major surgical operations

will not be required in later years to remove the phobias, com-

plexes and tics which so often creep into the “spoiled” child

and throw the adult sadly out of gear. “Train up a child,”

counselled the Book of Proverbs

,

thousands of years ago,” and

when he is old he will not depart from it .
4

Early Discipline

“In the disciplining of children,” observes Dr. Alexis Car-

rel, “the first responsibility falls on the parent. This re-

sponsibility has not been discharged. The spoiled child is

America’s heaviest crop. Nowhere else in the world are the

young so systematically pampered and fatally handicapped by

parents who have failed to teach them to work, earn and learn.

The outstanding characteristic of young people today is a lack

of gratitude for the advantages bestowed upon them.

“In making the better race there must be a general over-

hauling of child education. Any program that pampers a

child’s rapacious ego does a disservice to the individual and

society. ‘Self-expressionistic’ theories of pedagogy are doomed

because they scatter a child’s energies during the period of

habit formation.
4When should I begin to train my child?’ a

young mother asked Sir William Osier. ‘How old is your

child?’ asked Osier. Two years.’ ‘You are already too late,’

replied Osier. From the earliest days of its existence, discipline

must be impressed upon a child. On the first day of spoon-

feeding, he should be taught to eat everything on his plate

without fuss or coaxing. Here the first disciplinary conquest

is made.”

At an early age the child should be trained to keep his

4 Book of Proverbs, xxii. 16.

[ 13 ]



belongings in order. By the time he has reached four, he

should be able to dress himself and to perform all the essen-

tials of his own toilet. If he fails to approximate these achieve-

ments, the parents are retarding his capacity for sustained ef-

fort and are thus failing properly to prepare him for his work

in school and his place in society.

"Chop More Wood"

“As children grow older,” continues Carrel, “they must be

taught to accept heavier responsibilities. Do not hire a glazier

to set the pane of glass broken by your 10-year-old son. Re-

quire him to buy the glass and set it himself. Teach him to

make his own kite instead of buying one for him. Your

12-year-old daughter will feel a glow of achievement after be-

ing entrusted with the preparation of an entire meal. No home

is so wealthy that it can afford to exempt the girls from helping

with the housework and cooking. If Thoreau did not disdain

to mow his neighbors’ lawns for 15 cents an hour, there is no

reason why a high school boy should be affronted by such

labor.

“The habit of passing out nickels and dimes for candy,

soft drinks and ice cream is a harmful one. A wise father I

know said to his four children, ‘You can have all the ice cream

you want if you make it yourselves.’ Later he bought a bottle

capper and taught his children how to make root beer. Thrift

and self-reliance developed in children will serve them ad-

mirably in later life.

“Unless we emulate certain worthwhile features of fascist

education—notably their discipline and utilization of every
waking hour—we shall be no match for the tougher products
that result from such an education. Democracy may have to

be defended on the battlefield. Can it be adequately defended

by those who spent their adolescence listening to radio ro-

mances, or expressing their pitiful little personalities in water

colors and tantrums?”
5

5 The Reader’s Digest, September, 1940.

[ 14 ]



Will Rogers epitomized this timely warning of the great

medical scientist when he once remarked: “What the younger

generation needs is to chop more kindling wood and to cultivate

a few inhibitions.”

The period below twenty is vital in the formation of moral

habits. The youth who has made habitual correct methods

of reacting to temptations against the moral law will cross

the threshold of manhood with bulwarks of fortification capable

of resisting the stronger assault which maturity will inevitably

bring. The winds and the tempests will beat with fury upon

the citadel of character. But they will beat in vain because

the citadel is founded on the rock of well formed youthful

habits. As rods of steel which run through re-enforced con-

crete give it a sturdiness which the pounding waves of the

tumultous seas cannot budge, so the crystallized habits of a

virtuous youth give to the adult an adamantine sturdiness

which will stand him in good stead when the clamorous passions

of maturity are pounding upon the weak walls of flesh and

demanding their ounce of blood.

Ill

NERVOUS SYSTEM—ALLY

TF the findings of modern psychology yield any generaliza-

tion of ethical import, more significant than all the others,

it is that we should make our nervous system our ally instead

of our enemy. This may be said to be the chief practical value

to be derived from the study of psychology. By learning how

to groove worthwhile habits in the neural paths, we capitalize

upon their tendency to effortless performance and to repeti-

tion. We are like the prudent man who puts his hard earned

savings to work for him and enables him thereafter to live upon

the interests of the fund. For this purpose we should render

habitual and automatic as soon as possible as many good and

[ 15 ]



useful actions as we can, while we guard against the formation

of detrimental habits as we would guard against smallpox or

the bite of a rattlesnake.

To turn over to the effortless custody of automatism as

many of the details of daily conduct as possible is to set the

higher powers of the mind free for grappling with problems

which challenge all the resources of our insight and intelli-

gence. What spectacle is more pathetic than that of the indi-

vidual for whom nothing is habitual but indecision, who runs

the whole gamut of pros and cons every time he is confronted

with the momentous problem of deciding about some insignifi-

cant detail of daily conduct. To do this little task or that,

to play golf, to go to a movie, to visit a friend, to write a

letter, all these are made objects of such express volitional de-

liberation that the individual is half exhausted by the time he

has really made up his mind.

As likely as not after the deed he will be haunted by regret

or worry as to whether or not he should have done it. Such an

abulic individual resembles for all the world nothing so much

as a chicken with its head cut off, flopping hither and thither,

and getting nowhere fast. Happy the individual who has so in-

grained these daily duties and decisions as to do them with

effortless automatism and thus to spare himself the wear and

tear and the ceaseless pother of deliberate wrestling with these

unending minutiae. Happy the man for whom most of the

day’s duties have been rendered automatic, that he may have

some peace of mind and some leisure for thoughts worth while.

Vigorous Initiative

Let us now consider the more important rules, based upon

the findings of modern psychology, for the formation of habit.

Launch yourself upon the new practice with as vigorous and

determined an initiative as possible. As every beginning is

difficult it is of crucial importance that the initial effort be

made with such abundant strength as to carry it through to

success. For this reason it is wise to stack the cards of cir-

[ 16 ]



cumstance in favor of a successful issue. Think only of the

motives which will prompt the right decision. Avoid even the

whiff of a thought in the wrong direction. Make engagements

which will preclude your discontinuance of the new course and

your falling back into the old ways.

Military strategists attribute much of the success achieved

by Germany in the World War and in the European conflict

breaking out in 1939 to the vigorous initiative and the large

scale on which she launched her offensives. While her for-

eign office spokesman would be notifying the ambassador of

another nation that Hitler had decided to break off diplomatic

relations, his mighty military juggernaut would have launched

its attack hours before and would by that time be many miles

across the enemy’s border. Though ethically unjustifiable, it

was militarily effective.

For many years St. Augustine, chained to his lustful habits,

had uttered the all too human aspiration: “0 God, grant me

chastity, but not yet
”

Through no such half-hearted velleities

could Augustine break the manacles which bound him. Finally

the thought of “the youths and maidens of every age and race”

who had elected continence, spurred Augustine to ask: “What

these have done, may not I also do?” This deepening re-

flection along with the determination aroused in him by the

voice he heard in the garden, saying, “Take and read,” un-

leashed a fury of assault which enabled the penitent to storm

the citadel of continence with such success that he became a

model for young and old—the shining light of the See of Hippo
which was destined to illumine the world with its moral

splendor.

Continue Initiative

Continue this initiative and don’t allow failures to discour-

age you because effort despite an occasional defeat, is accumu-

lative and will eventually triumph. Perseverance is but an-

other name for a continuance of the initial drive. Every-

athlete, every student, every business and professional man who

[17 1



has tasted even a measure of success knows how essential is

that tenacity of purpose which holds one steadfast over the

laps which stretch out between the starter’s gun and the final

goal. How many a football team has staged brilliant drives

down the field only to wilt when in striking distance of the

enemy’s goal and thus to be robbed of victory. To prepare

his players for these crucial periods, Rockne was accustomed

to imbue them with the spirit of his famous slogan: “We only

begin to fight when the going gets tough.” In practice, it

meant that while they were to fight all the time, the new

reservoirs of energy and determination they must tap, the

Herculean efforts they must put forth when the enemy re-

sistance stiffens with its back to the wall, must make their

previous efforts appear by contrast to be mere loafing.

The holder of the world’s record for the two mile is Greg

Rice of Notre Dame. Despite his short stature, five feet, three

inches, which puts him at such a disadvantage with tall run-

ners with their longer strides, he has outdistanced every com-

petitor over the two mile course during the past year. When

the writer asked this modest young runner what factor he re-

garded as the most important, he answered: “The ability to

uncork a burst of speed at the end.” It has been this sur-

prising faculty of unleashing a new explosion of speed which

has brought dismay to his competitors and catapulted him

ahead of them across the tape. Not less inportant than the

vigorous start are the steady grind and the final spurt.

The classic exemple of perseverance is, of course, Christo-

pher Columbus. No one can read the story of his pioneering

voyage across the trackless waters of the Atlantic, without

realizing that not less important than the daring and original

conception of the great discoverer was his iron willed de-

termination to push his undertaking through to a successful

issue or to die in the attempt. Neither the shoreless seas nor

the fears of his sailors which swelled into the threat of mutiny

were able to quail his indomitable spirit or stay him in his

determined quest. As I knelt, one summer day, before the

[ 18 ]



altar of the church in the Azores before which Columbus prayed

for courage to see his venture through, as he bade ‘"Good-bye”

to the last outpost of land, I think I learned the source from

which flowed the strength and the dogged determination to

carry on to the end. The lesson, which Columbus gave the

world, of carrying the vigor of the start into the ripened glory

of a successful end, finds beautiful expression in the lines of

Joaquin Miller:

Behind him lay the gray Azores

Behind the gates of Hercules;

Before him not the ghost of shores,

Before him only shoreless seas.

The good mate said: “Now must we pray,

For lo! the very stars are gone.

Brave Admiral, speak; what shall I say?

“Why, say ‘sail on! sail on! and on!’
”

No Exception

Never allow any exception in regard to your resolution .

Each fall, as James points out, is like letting slip from your

fingers a ball of twine which you are rolling up. A single slip

undoes far more than a dozen turns. The secret of success

in conditioning the nervous system to pull in the direction of

the habit we are forming is not to double cross it with a single

relapse.

“The peculiarity of the moral habits, contradistingishing

them from the intellectual acquisitions,” as Professor Bain ob-

serves, “is the presence of two hostile powers, one to be gradu-

ally raised into the ascendant over the other. It is necessary,

above all things in such a situation, never to lose a battle.

Every gain on the wrong side undoes the effect of many con-

quests on the right. The essential precaution, therefore, is so

to regulate the two opposing powers that the one may have a

series of uninterrupted successes, until repetition has fortified

[ 19 ]



it to such a degree as to enable it to cope with the opposition,

under any circumstances. This is the theoretically best career

of mental progress.”

Who is there who cannot recall inebriates who never were

able to wean themselves from the habit because they were

always permitting exceptions to their resolve of abstinence.

The single drink would be the spark which would set their

cravings aflame and reduce the temple of their noble resolve

to dust and ashes. A worker in a powder factory cannot risk

a single smoke without exposing the plant and the lives of all

the workers to the imminent peril of destruction. Like powder

magazines ready to explode at the slightest provocation are the

passions and the appetites which we are seeking to tame in

setting up a habit which runs counter to the gratifications pre-

viously allowed.

The importance of guarding against an exception will be

in proportion to the violence and the imperiousness of the pas-

sion one is seeking to conquer. If it has long held a domi-

nance over one, then it becomes doubly important for him to

spurn a compromise and to declare war to the finish. Deeply

grained in the nervous system, the passion can be dislodged

from its tyrannical throne only by complete and unconditional

rebellion. Here every slip deepens its control, dissipates the

effort to resist, and engenders a sense of hopelessness in pro-

longing the futile struggle.

Sensuality

This is particularly true in regard to sensuality. For this

reason confessors of souls will frequently suggest to a peni-

tent, manacled for years to a vicious habit, to come to daily

Holy Communion. While this brings in a new factor, that of

divine assistance in their struggle, it also commits the indi-

vidual to avoid all circumstances of time, person, or place

which might conspire against his resolve to admit of no ex-

ception. Recognizing the weakness of human nature, however,

the prudent confessor will instruct his client to rush to the

[ 20 ]



tribunal of confession should any single lapse occur. By so

doing, the individual will be rescued from the immediate dan-

ger of further relapses so likely to occur when he feels the

consciousness of guilt, the sense of exile from the friendship

of God, and is inclined erroneously to say that a few more

tumbles in the mire could not make him much worse than he is.

Few sights at Notre Dame have impressed the writer more

than the spectacle of eighteen confessors setting out each morn-

ing in the school year to the various chapels and halls on the

campus. Here they are available to the students to have their

consciences cleared of any element which, if not removed, might

deter them from daily Holy Communion and thus prepare the

way for deeper infection. Back of the amazing success which

the Fathers of the Holy Cross have experienced in leading

1,600 students to Holy Communion each day and half of the

remaining 1,600 each week, is the generosity with which they

make themselves available to the students for confession and

for administering Holy Communion. They not only preach the

doctrine of frequent Holy Communion, but they implement it

with action.

They know how weak is the human will, unaided by grace

from on High. “Quarry the granite rock” says Cardinal New-

man, “with razors, moor the vessel with a thread of silk; then

you may hope with such keen and delicate instruments as hu-

man knowledge and human reason to contend against those

giants, the passions and the pride of men.” Culture alone will

not save. Religion is needed. The conscience which does not

sink its roots into the subsoil of religious faith, nor project its

antennae beyond the roof of the skies, misses alike the music of

divine inspiration and the thunder of divine commands.

"Tapering Off"

The question of “tapering-off” in breaking such habits as

drinking and smoking might here be raised. In general, the

weight of expert testimony is in favor of the immediate acqui-

sition of the new habit, if there be a real possibility of carrying

[ 21 ]



it out. Caution must be exercised that the will is not assigned

so stiff a job as to ensure its defeat at the very outset. Such

is likely to breed discouragement and despair. But if, in the

language of sports, one can “take” it, then it is better to un-

dergo a brief period of suffering which is the almost inevitable

result of the abrupt severance of an habitual indulgence.

By this procedure the old habit is more certainly eradicated

and the new one formed. It will surprise many a chronic dev-

otee of Bacchus and of Lady Nicotine to discover how speedily

the craving dies of inanition if it be never fed. Who has not

known individuals who gave up smoking during Lent with

enormous difficulty, only to discover that when Easter arrived

the craving had subsided into somnolence or had completely

disappeared.

As Professor Bahnsen observes: “One must first learn, un-

moved, looking neither to the right nor left, to walk firmly on

the straight and narrow path, before one can begin ‘to make

one’s self over again.’ He who every day makes a fresh re-

solve is like one who, arriving at the edge of the ditch he is to

leap, forever stops and returns for a fresh run. Without un-

broken advance there is no such thing as accumulation of the

ethical forces possible, and to make this possible, and to exer-

cise us and habituate us in it, is the sovereign blessing of

regular work”

IV

GRASP FIRST OPPORTUNITY

f^RASP the first opportunity to translate your resolve into ac-

tion and utilize every emotional prompting along the line of

the habit you wish to form. The psychological basis of this

rule is the fact that the neural paths of habit are grooved not

by making resolves or aspirations but by making those resolves

produce motor effects, by reducing the aspiration to action.

[22 ]



No amount of mere resolving will suffice to form a habit

—

save the habit of hollow resolves. Hell is paved with good

intentions. The proverb emphasizes the widely recognized

futility of intending, but of always stopping short of execu-

tion.

It illustrates the point in this rule that emotions must yield

a precipiate of deed. Otherwise they evaporate into thin air,

leaving the individual more exhausted, but no farther along the

shining pathway of noble endeavor, than before the emotional

spree began. In sober fact, every time a glow of noble senti-

ment is allowed to peter out without a single motor response,

the individual loses ground in his struggle and becomes bogged

down under the enlarging incubus of chronic frustration.

I remember a young priest observing at a dinner on New

Year’s Day: “I have made a resolution to anticipate the reci-

tation of my Breviary every day throughout the year.”

This refers to the practice of saying Matins and Lauds on

the previous day and thus being praiseworthily a step or, at

least, a half a step ahead, of the line of strict requirement.

The elderly pastor smiled.

“Father,” he replied, “I have been making that same reso-

lution every New Year’s Day for forty years, but I haven’t

caught up with it yet.”

The cards were stacked heavily against his ever doing it.

Forty years of allowing a resolve to evaporate into a mere

velleity had dug too deep a neural path of ingrained habit to ex-

pect that it would ever pass from the cocoon of velleity into

volition and fulfillment.

Rousseau's Example

A classic instance of noble sentimentalizing with no con-

crete fruition is the case of Rousseau. With flaming eloquence

he appeals to the mothers of France to follow nature and nurse

their babies themselves, while he sends his own to the foundling

hospital. To all such vendors of lofty sentiments we might

justly say: “Sell” yourself and then you can “sell” me. Prac-

[ 23 ]



tice what you preach and then we shall believe you. “Physi-

cian, heal thyself.” Not sentiments, resolves, words, but ac-

tions count. An ounce of concrete deed is worth a ton of ab-

stract sentimentalizing.

“There is no more contemptible type of human character,”

observes James, “than that of the nerveless sentimentalist and

dreamer, who spends his life in a weltering sea of sensibility

and emotion, but who never does a manly concrete deed. . . .

The weeping of a Russian lady over the fictitious personages

in the play, while her coachman is freezing to death on his seat

outside, is the sort of thing that everywhere happens on a less

glaring scale. Even the habit of excessive indulgence in music,

for those who are neither performers themselves nor musically

gifted enough to take it in a purely intellectual way, has

probably a relaxing effect upon the character. One becomes

filled with emotions which habitually pass without prompting

to any deed, and so the inertly sentimental condition is kept

up. The remedy would be never to suffer one’s self to have

an emotion at a concert without expressing it afterward in

some active way. Let the expression be the least thing in the

world—speaking genially to one’s aunt, or giving up one’s seat
in a horse-car, if nothing more heroic offers—but let it not
fail to take place.”

1

Charles Kingsley emphasizes the importance of doing as

contrasted with mere dreaming in the well-known lines:

Do noble deeds, not dream

Them all day long.

And so make life, death, and that vast forever

One grand sweet song.

Whole-hearted Effort

Careful, whole-hearted effort must be put into the work of

forming a habit. Slovenly, slipshod, indifferent work, whether it

be in reading, in memorizing, in learning to play golf or a

l Op. cit., p. 125.

[ 24 ]



piano, is next to useless. Some twenty-five years ago the

writer conducted an investigation of the reading habits of

thousands of grade school pupils in Illinois. One of the signifi-

cant conclusions emerging from that study was that concentra-

tion of attention is of crucial importance in the formation of

habits of rapid, fluent reading .
2

If that be lacking, the reading

degenerates into dawdling and woolgathering and is virtually a

waste of time.

Concentration of attention was found to be in reading, as it

will be found to be in all types of mental activity, the index

of efficiency. “Attention and effort,” points out James, “are

but two names for the same psychic fact.”
3

Concentration is

the bore which, under the pressure of the augur of the will,

penetrates to the core of the problem and achieves the mastery.

If a habit is worth forming at all, it is worth whole-hearted

effort. Otherwise, it should not be undertaken. To prevent

dawdling and to enlist concentration upon a task, it is often

helpful to place a time limit for its completion. This acts as a

wholesome counteractive of the tendency toward distractions

and frequently taps layers of energy which have never been

mobilized because they have never been needed.

John Erskine tells of his using five and ten minute periods

to complete some writing for which he was finding it difficult to

secure longer periods because of his many duties. Under the

lash of the time limit he found himself getting instantly to

what he wanted to say instead of going through the customary

warming-up periods. It was an eye-opener as to how much

could be accomplished in periods of such brevity that they were

formerly scorned—and wasted.
It is probable that most mortals are working well within

the margin of their potential abilities. To borrow a figure of

speech from mechanics, they are hitting on only four cylinders

instead of the six or eight they really have. Since worth-

while habits are among the most important treasures which can

2 Silent Reading, by John A. O’Brien, The Macmillan Co. New York, N. Y.
3 Op. cit > , p. 126.



be acquired, it follows that they are deserving of whole-hearted

effort and of a zeal that never lags. As Bishop John Lancaster

Spalding has well said:

Most precious gems lie deep in earth or sea,

And with much toil are sought.

Great knowledge with great labor must be bought,

And they must plow and sow who hope to reap.

Tell Your Friends

Tell your friends about your resolution. This summons re-

enforcements in the form of shame, social respect and honor

which are pulled into play by the consciousness that others

are watching your results. Powerful indeed is the pressure

exerted upon us all by public opinion. While intangible, it is

generally more influential than concrete rewards or punishments.

Thus Lewis Lawes, the warden at Sing Sing for many years,

expressed the conviction that the penalty which hurts most

prisoners more than fines and imprisonment is the loss of the

esteem of their acquaintances and friends. That is one reason

why crimes are much less likely to be committed by an indi-

vidual in a community where he is known than where he is a

complete stranger. The mantle of anonymity is considered a

sufficient cloak for many a crime. Jane Addams tells of the im-

migrant who came to Hull House in Chicago to join one of

the social groups organized for study and recreation.

“May I ask what brought you, a stranger, here?” inquired

Miss Addams.

“I could not fight all Hell alone,” was his laconic reply.

Back of the idea of the vow taken in public, is this same

idea. A young couple pledge their love and fidelity to each

other in the marriage ceremony witnessed by many of their

friends, and recorded in the newspapers for others. The bride

henceforth wears her wedding ring, proclaiming her status to

the world. The title, Miss, is now changed to Mrs. and further

emphasizes her married state. What are all these but social

[ 26 ]



re-enforcements for the vow of conjugal fidelity which she and

her spouse pronounced at the wedding ceremony. Who will

deny that they are valuable supports for the good intention

which alas! often finds residence in a will none too strong?

Even greater use is made of these social re-enforcements in

the case of religious—priests, brothers, nuns. Not only do
they receive a title distinctive of their state, but they wear a

garb which proclaims their lot in life. While it is true that the

garb does not make the monk, it may well serve as a shield

against needless danger. The tonsure which certain religious

orders wear in Europe is a further means of proclaiming to the

world that they have chosen the service of God and the altar as

the portion of their inheritance forever.

If an individual has determined to abstain from intoxicat-

ing liquor, let him tell his friends of his resolve. He will find

that the desire for their respect for his plighted word will shame

him from entering a tavern or taking other steps which would

be tantamount to a public confession of his failure. One of the

hardest phrases in any language to pronounce is: “I have

failed.” When to the inherent reluctance of pronouncing it at

all is added the necessity of pronouncing it in public, the indi-

vidual will find himself struggling desperately to escape so dis-

agreeable a task. The public proclamation of the resolve

serves, therefore, as an anchor to the windward and a support

for its maintenance in the teeth of difficulty.

V

START WITH LITTLE THINGS

^TART with little things rather than with big ones. Since the
influence of the initial success or failure is enormous, it is im-

portant to engender the necessary confidence by tackling some-

thing which is within one’s reach of achievement. Thus the

toper who wishes to acquire the habit of sobriety might well

[ 27 ]



start with an abstinence pledge for a week or a month. If

he starts with a pledge for life, the prospect might seem too

formidable for endurance and nip his resolve in the bud. Like-

wise a young man resolving to become a musician by practicing

in his spare time, might well start with an hour a day, rather

than plunge into a lengthy practice only to find it too onerous

and irksome to maintain.

At the beginning of Lent, at the close of a mission or a

retreat, when good resolves are in order, experienced coun-

selors of souls invariably warn against undertaking too much.

Start with one resolve, they counsel, which you are certain to

keep. Then after you have achieved that, you can take on

more of a load up the mountain of perfection. He who would

root out one vice each year, observes the author of The Imi-

tation of Christ, would soon become a perfect man. “Rome

was not built in a day” is an adage that they would do well to

bear in mind, who are too eager to see the shining temple of

their dreams achieved over night. It is well to remember that

we do not have wings to fly but only feet to climb and climb.

By steady plodding, however, we can scale the tallest heights.

Make Practice Pleasant

Make the practice of the habit as pleasant as possible and

the failure to practice it as unpleasant as you can. Underlying

this rule is the psychological fact that we tend to repeat an

action fraught with pleasure and to shrink from one fraught

with pain. “The burnt finger shuns the flame” is illustrative

of much in the psychology of habit formation. If the action

which we wish to render habitual is of a neutral character, or

even somewhat unpalatable, it will be well to see what can be

done to sugarcoat it.

Professor Edward L. Thorndyke narrates that he found it

quite unpalatable to undertake lecture engagements which in-

volved traveling. Studying what he could do to lessen the

discomfort, he found that by taking a Pullman and having

the porter provide him with a table, he could continue his work

[ 28 ]



with virtually no loss of time, and even with a measure of ad^

vantage resulting from no interruption on the longer trips. By

arranging a few other details which ministered to his comfort,

he speedily found that his aversion to this type of work dis-

appeared.

Few of the findings of genetic psychology are more im-

portant for the teacher to remember than that which empha-

sizes the wisdom of commending the pupil who has begun a

new and difficult act and has achieved some measure of suc-

cess. A hearty word of praise will often tide him over the

difficult period of the beginning, when discouragement easily

arises, and prompt him to carry on till automatism renders the

practice easy and pleasant.

Persons who are quitting the practice of smoking will often

have a stick of gum present, so when the urge becomes press-

ing, they can find relief in chewing gum. Likewise individuals

discontinuing the use of liquor are encouraged to have candy,

and especially chocolate, at hand, so they can relieve the

pressure and assuage the craving. There is an inborn craving

for that which is pleasant and a natural shrinking from that

which is painful. Human nature at best is weak and frail.

They who wish it to bear its burden successfully must be care-

ful not to overload.

This rule has elements of kinship with the preceding and

merges to a considerable extent with it, inasmuch as both em-

phasize the importance of starting out with something for which

there is a well grounded hope of success.

Keep Faculty of Effort Alive

Keep the facuity of effort alive in you by a little gratuitous

exercise every day. This last rule, formulated by James, may

be said to be the most basic of all. It is interesting to see a

distinguished psychologist reach by purely scientific procedure

the same conclusion which moralists have long emphasized on

ascetical grounds. This rule counsels one to do more than is

required, to walk the second mile in gratuitous service, to

[ 29 ]



undertake little deeds of mortification each day in order that

the will may be kept strong and vigorous.

“Be systematically ascetic or heroic in little unnecessary

points,” says James, “do every day or two something for no

other reason than that you would rather not do it, so that when

the hour of dire need draws nigh, it may find you not unnerved

and untrained to stand the test. Asceticism of this sort is like

the insurance which a man pays on his house and goods. The

tax does him no good at the time, and possibly may never bring

him a return. But if the fire does come, his having paid it

will be his salvation from ruin. So with the man who has daily

inured himself to habits of concentrated attention, energetic

volition, and self-denial in unnecessary things. He will stand

like a tower when everything rocks around him, and when his

softer fellow-mortals are winnowed like chaff in the blast.” 1

Please note that this is not a moralist speaking, but a

psychologist speaking in the name of his science. Sounding

a similar note Dr. Alexis Carrel, the top ranking medical

scientist of our day, has recently warned that the youth of

America is getting soft and flabby from the lack of discipline,

hardships, and self-denial. Having enjoyed the happy privilege

of conferring upon Dr. Carrel the Cardinal Newman Award

for his contributions to medical science, I was impressed with

his discerning observations on the crying need for discipline and

sacrifice for the people of our land. These observations he has

recently published. They have attracted nationwide attention.

“Everything,” he writes, “has been too easy for most of us.

All life has aspired to the condition of an English week-end

—

a Thursday-to-Monday holiday of minimum effort and maxi-

mum pleasure. Amusement has been our national cry; ‘a good

time’ our chief concern. The perfect life, as viewed by the

average youth or adult is a round of ease or entertainment, of

motion pictures, radio programs, parties, alcoholic and sexual

excesses. This indolent and undisciplined way of life has sapped

our individual vigor, imperiled our democratic form of govern-

l Op. cit., p. 126 f.

[ 30 ]



ment. Our race pitifully needs new supplies of discipline,

morality and intelligence. Strange to say, democracies have

made no consistent effort to inculcate these qualities in their

citizens. Although vast social betterment schemes have been

projected, we have forgotten that these ultimately depend for

their vitality upon the individual citizen. ‘You cannot carve

rotten wood/ says the Chinese proverb. Nor can you carve de-

cayed character into the durable underpinnings of a better race.

“We have scientifically perfected flowers, fruits and ani-

mals, yet have neglected to apply simple, scientific principles

to the full flowering of ourselves. Vast potentialities in our

tissues and brain lie dormant, merely awaiting development

through disciplined use. To combat dangers from within and

without, the race must enormously strengthen itself. This

cannot be achieved by huge governmental expenditures, or by

committees and organizations. If there is to be any regenera-

tion of our people, it must take place in the small laboratories

of our private lives. We must realize, with all the intensity

we can command, that refashioning our own character is not

only the most satisfying and rewarding preoccupation of man,

but is also the most important contribution we can make to so-

ciety.”

This deep student of human nature then points out that this

renewal of ourselves is a three-dimensional undertaking. We

must reconstruct ourselves on the three planes of conduct, phy-

sical, mental, moral; otherwise there will be a lack of balance

and the salt will lose its savor. The instrument which man

must employ in this harmonious reconstruction of himself is

discipline.

"Underbrush of Laziness"

By lighting successive small candles of will power, Carrel

shows how we ultimately generate a beam that illuminates our

entire life. “By constantly applying discipline,” he continues,

“in the performance of irksome tasks or in conquering our

slothful habits, we generate high voltages of power. Daily

E31 J



drill and years of discipline in matters both large and small can

make a man over in most of his conduct. Demanding definite

quotas and quality of performance from ourselves; observing

ironclad rules of forbearance and consideration in human rela-

tions; restraining our appetites for indulgence and indolence,

for food, alcohol and tobacco—all these are priceless disci-
plines, firm molders of character and will. The man who has

daily drilled himself in little gratuitous exercises of will, who

has been systematically ascetic or heroic in small matters, will

find that he is supported by strong inner buttresses when winds

of adversity rage around him. He will feel the joyous spark of

divinity within himself.

“Discipline alone will confer physical fitness upon most of

us. A multiplicity of ease-making inventions tempt us to

muscular flabbiness. Appalled by our bodily degeneration, we

periodically resolve to play golf, tennis, or at least walk home

from the office. After a few days our resolution flags; the un-

derbrush of laziness grows up around us again. Only by re-

peated spurrings of will can we maintain physical hardihood.

“I know a man who hands over his car keys every week-end

to his doctor, a next-door neighbor. During that period, he

does all his errands on foot, avoiding highways as much as

possible, tramping across fields and over rough terrain. He

conditions himself by staying outdoors in all weathers. We all

need more sun, wind and weather as tonic for the body. Expo-

sure whips up effort in sweat glands, lungs, circulatory system.

This effort is quickly translated into health and energy. Life

leaps like a geyser for those who drill through the rock of

inertia. Yet all around us we see persons who prefer idleness

or petty diversion to the stern challenge that calls for disci-

plined efforts. The pushover job, the unearned meal, the easy

choice, are tempting too many Americans down the soft de-

cline.”
2

Here we have an interesting illustration of how science

comes along and unravels the factual evidence for the

2 Ibid.

[ 32 ]



validity of great spiritual truths which Christianity has long

proclaimed. Nineteen centuries before William James formu-

lated this psychological law and Carrel confirmed it, Christ

had declared: “If any man will come after me, let him deny

himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.”
3

St. Paul

had likewise long ago pointed out the necessity of mortifica-

tion for the curbing of the rebellious nature of man: “For the

flesh lusts against the spirit,” he writes, “and the spirit against

the flesh; for these are opposed to each other, so that you do

not do what you would. . . . And they who belong to Christ

have crucified their flesh with its passions and desires.”
4 Not

less vivid and revealing is the passage in his letter to the Ro-

mans: “To wish is within my power, but I do not find the

strength to accomplish what is good. For I do not do the good

that I wish, but the evil that I do not wish, that I perform.” 5

Explaining this strange contradiction within our own na-

ture, the Apostle points to the disharmony between the law

of his members and the law of his mind, in other words, be-

tween the flesh and the spirit. “But I see,” he writes, “an-

other law in my members warring against the law of my mind

and making me prisoner to the law of sin that is my mem-

bers.” Only by deeds of daily self-denial can the unruly flesh

be brought into subjection to the sweet yoke of Christ.

Second only to the inspired Word of God in inculcating the

wisdom of following the royal road of the cross is The Imita-

tion of Christ. “He who best knows how to endure,” writes

the author of this marvelous book “will possess the greater

peace. Such a one is conqueror of himself and lord of the

world, the friend of Christ and an heir of heaven.” 6

"Molecules Are Counting It"

William James concludes his chapter on habit with the

following passage, so brilliant and revealing that it will long

3 Gal. v. 17 ff.

4 Matt. vi. 24.

5 Rom. vii. 18 ff.
6 Book 2, chapter 3.

[ 33 ]



remain a classic: “The physiological study of mental condi-

tions is thus the most powerful ally of hortatory ethics. The

hell to be endured hereafter, of which theology tells, is no

worse than the hell we make for ourselves in this world by

habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong way. Could

the young but realize how soon they will become mere walk-

ing bundles of habits, they would give more heed to their

conduct while in the plastic state. We are spinning our own

fates, good or evil and never to be undone. Every smallest

stroke of virtue or of vice leaves its never so little scar. The

drunken Rip Van Winkle, in Jefferson’s play, excuses himself

for every fresh dereliction by saying, ‘I won’t count this time!’

Well! he may not count it, and a kind Heaven may not

count it; but it is being counted none the less. Down among

his nerve-cells and fibers the molecules are counting it, regis-

tering and storing it up to be used against him when the

next temptation comes. Nothing we ever do is, in strict

scientific literalness wiped out.”

Tracing out the implications of this, James concludes: “Of

course, this has its good side as well as its bad one. As we

become permanent drunkards by so many separate drinks,

so we become saints in the moral, and authorities and experts

in the practical and scientific spheres, by so many separate

acts and hours of work. Let no youth have any anxiety about

the upshot of his education, whatever the line of it may be.

If he keep faithfully busy each hour of the working day, he

may safely leave the final result to itself. He can with per-

fect certainty count on waking up some fine morning, to find

himself one of the competent ones of his generation, in what-

ever pursuit he may have singled out. Silently between all the

details of his business, the power of judging in all that class of

matter will have built itself up within him as a possession that

will never pass away. Young people should know this truth

in advance. The ignorance of it has probably engendered more

discouragement and faint-heartedness in youths embarking on

arduous careers than all other causes put together.”

[ 34 ]



Heredity

Heredity and ideals likewise help to shape our character.

While we do not have the power to choose our ancestors, we

do have the power to choose our ideals. It is for each of us

to make the most of what our parents bequeath us. That

is the least we should undertake. More no one can ask of

us. It will be well to try to come to an understanding of our

nature with its resources and its limitations. “Know thy-

self” was Aristotle’s first step in the intelligent sculpturing of

character. In spite of all the light modern psychology throws

upon the working of our minds, with its neurological corre-

lates and the drives which come from the subconscious, there

are many regions still shrouded in darkness. “There is a great

deal of unmapped country within us” observes George Eliot

in Daniel Deronda, “which would have to be taken into

account in an explanation of our gusts and storms.”

Dr. William A. White and Dom Thomas V. Moore have

written illuminatingly, in their respective works, Mechanisms

of Character Formation and Dynamic Psychology

,

of those

hidden depths whence spring many of these squalls. What

light the prober into the subconscious can shed upon the

phobias, tics, and complexes which snarl the even functioning

of the mind, and the methods of unsnarling the same, should

of course be welcomed by all who are eager to make the most

of their inheritance. Many of the therapeutic values of

psychoanalysis and of psychiatry, it is comforting to know,

are made available in a simple and practical manner in the

Catholic confessional, as the writer has pointed out elsewhere .
7

7 Psychiatry and the Confessional

,

by John A. O’Brien, in The American Ecclesi-
astical Review, March, 1938.

[ 35 ]



VI

IDEALS—SOURCES OF POWER

AV7\E come now to ideals. They are the sources of the power

** which molds our conduct, the well-springs of the in-

spirations which shape our aspirations and our dreams. They

are the blue prints according to which we would build our char-

acter. They should be for us what the cloud by day and the

pillar of fire by night were for the Israelites in their journey to

the Promised Land—the lodestars in the charting of all our
paths.

Without high ideals there can be no lofty character. As

water cannot rise above its source, neither can character rise

higher than the ideals to which allegiance is proclaimed. We

should pay homage to the ideals of justice, honor, truth,

righteousness and love not only in the realm of those abstract

universals wherein Plato discerned the scaffolding of the moral

universe and the evidence of God, but also in their concrete

embodiment in the particulars of our daily conduct. The man

of character must render these ideals incarnate. They must be

assimilated into his moral nature and become part and parcel

of his being.

Hierarchy of Values

In the intelligent ordering of his life, one must first set up

a hierarchy of values. Man lives in many planes—the physical,
the social, the intellectual, and the spiritual. The values which

conduce to his well-being in this ascending scale will rank ac-

cordingly. Hence it is a matter of primary importance that

man should not purchase a physical value, a gratification of the

senses at the cost of a spiritual value. He should not sell his

soul for a mess of pottage, for thirty pieces of silver, nor for all

the wealth of Croesus.

“What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world, but

[ 36 ]



suffer the loss of his own soul?”
1 To which question, the only

answer that man has ever been able to find, is: It profiteth him

nothing. For a single human soul will outweigh the physical

universe. God and the human soul are the supreme values.

The ultimate criterion of every value is the measure in which

it enables the human soul to achieve its final destiny—union
with God, the fountainhead of all values.

Stressing the necessity of subordinating the lower to the

higher in a rational scheme of values, St. Thomas Aquinas puts

it thus simply: “In the natural order man’s body is for his soul

and the lower powers of the soul for reason. It is therefore

naturally right for man so to manage his body and the lower

faculties of his soul so that the act and good of reason may

least of all be hindered, but rather helped. Mismanagement

in this regard must naturally be sinful. We count, therefore,

as things naturally evil carousings and revelings and the dis-

orderly indulgence of the sexual instinct, whereby the act of

reason is impeded and subjected to the passions which do not

leave the judgment of the reason free.

“To every man those things are naturally fitting whereby

he tends to his natural end; and the contraries are naturally

unfitting. But God is the end to which man is ordained by

nature. Those things, therefore, are naturally right whereby

man is led to the knowledge and love of God; and the con-

traries are naturally evil for man.” 2

A Universal Love

The supreme ideal which Christ holds up before the eyes

of all mankind is that of a constant, universal love that em-

braces all our enemies. “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God,”

said the divine Master, “with thy whole heart, with thy whole

soul and with thy whole mind. This is the first and the great-

est commandment. And the second is like to this: Thou shalt

love thy neighbor as thyself. In these two commandments de-

1 Mark viii. 36.

2 Aquinas, Contra Gentiles, III, 129 23, Nos. 2, 6, 7, Rickaby’s translation.

[ 37 ]



pendeth the whole law and the prophets.”
3 These two Com-

mandments mirror the essential nature of God, in Whose like-

ness we must daily strive to grow. The best definition of God

ever given is the simple one of St. John: “God is love.”

The classic exposition of love as the supreme value in hu-

man life is the thirteenth chapter of the first epistle to the

Corinthians. With a simplicity of language and a pregnancy

of thoughts, of which Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address constitutes

one of the few approximations, St. Paul sounds all the notes

in the gamut of this mighty virtue in the following noble

utterance:

If I speak with the tongues of men, and of angels, and

have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling

cymbal. And if I should have prophecy and should know all

mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith,

so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am

nothing. And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the

poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have

not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Charity is patient, is kind: charity envieth not, dealeth not

perversely; is not puffed up; is not ambitious, seeketh not her

own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not

in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth; beareth all things,

believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

Charity never falleth away: whether prophecies shall be

made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be de-

stroyed. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But

when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall

be done away. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I un-

derstood as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away

the things of a child. We see now through a glass in a dark

manner; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then

I shall know even as I am known. And now there remains faith,

hope, and charity, these three: but the greatest of these is

charity.

3 Matt. xxii. 37 f.

[ 38 ]



Unselfishness Develops Character

Christ, however, did not allow love to remain as an ab-

stract ideal. He applied it to human life. He formulated it

into the law of surplus service which He substituted for the

old Mosaic law “an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”

After referring to the lex talionis just mentioned, Christ says:

“But I say to you not to resist evil: but if one strike thee on

the right cheek, turn to him also the other. And if a man will

contend with thee in judgment, and take away thy coat, let

go thy cloak also unto him. And whosoever shall compel thee

to go one mile, go with him two.”

In the rendering of that superabundant service, more than

the law of justice and equity could demand, in the rising above

the merely human instinct to strike back, and in returning love

for hatred, will be found one of the most important laws for

the development of character. In the measure in which indi-

viduals fulfill this law of surplus service will be found the

measure of the spiritual progress of mankind. It is the un-

failing index of the race’s progress in social altruism, the un-

erring gauge of the spiritual qualitativeness of human life, the

accurate register of nobility of character.

The surplus that is rendered in helpful service, in kindli-

ness, in love, is not lost but becomes part of the common

spiritual treasury of the race. Like the Egyptian granary

filled at Joseph’s order during the seven fat years, it tides man-

kind over the lean years of selfishness, war and spiritual famine.

Like a mighty reservoir that holds the answer to the cry of all

life in time of drought, it rescues the race from extinction in

periods of crass materialism and spiritual aridity, when man

acts on the principle of “an eye for an eye,” and measures

his payments in terms of cold calculating justice. When man

pays dividends merely in justice and not in love and generosity,

he but treads the weary treadmill of spiritual standpattism,

stretching the status quo into the shadows of eternity, and

anchoring the race in the bog of spiritual barrenness. It is the

surplus in service, in kindliness, in love which constitutes the

[ 39 ]



lifting power of the universe, the lever which elevates human

life from the lowly swamps of selfishness to the mountain peaks

of magnanimity and nobility of character.

"Unprofitable Servants"

The insistence by Christ upon the necessity of doing more

than is commanded, if one is to achieve any marked spiritual

progress, is brought out vividly in two further instances. After

alluding to the servant who ploughed the field, fed the cattle,

and performed nothing but the duties enjoined upon him, Christ

turned to the disciples with the words: “So you also, when you

shall have done all these things that are commanded you, say:

We are unprofitable servants; we have done that which we ought

to do.” The mere doing of what they “ought to do” established

no claim to spiritual nobility or perfection of character.

They must do more than that. Only when the narrow

channel of strict duty overflows with the surplus in generosity,

in kindliness, in love is there a contribution to the spiritual

treasury of the race and a stimulus to its progress. Only when

the lex talionis and the cold calculations of legislatic ethics

are transcended in the surplus payments of a mighty and

generous love that forgets the decimal points of strict justice,

and pours itself out in torrents beyond all requirements, does

one contribute to the spiritual dynamics which constitute the

lifting power of the universe. Then and only then.

A second instance in which Christ emphasized the necessity

of doing more than merely keeping the Commandments if one

aspires for perfection, occurred during His encounter with the

rich young man. In response to the query as to what he

should do to enter into life, Christ tells him to keep the Com-

mandments. When the young man replies that he has done

this from his youth, Christ declares: “If thou wilt be perfect,

go sell what thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt

have treasure in heaven; and come follow me.” It is to be

noted here that the mark of Christ’s discipleship is not the

mere keeping of the Commandments. It is the doing of the

[ 40 ]



more than the law requires, the giving of one’s riches to the

poor and the spending of one’s life in the service of mankind.

The quality of doing more than is required is, then, the

distinctive quality of the true Christian and the unfailing index

of nobility of character. With his penetrating insight into

human life, Shakespeare recognized this trait as the crown of

the moral character. Thus in depicting the qualities of Desde-

mona in the ascending scale of their values, Iago places this

as the crowning one, saying of her: “She is so free, so kind, so

apt, so blessed a disposition, that she holds it a vice in her good-

ness not to do more than is requested.” This is the attitude

which Christ sought to make universal among His followers,

and the distinctive mark of His discipleship—the attitude of
regarding as a vice in one’s goodness the failure to do more

than is requested.

Love Opens Sightless Eyes

Newton D. Baker, Secretary of War in President Wilson’s

cabinet, tells an amazing story of the power of a mighty and a

generous love that overflowed the bounds of duty with deeds of

superabundant service and kindliness. While visiting the

worst casualties of the American army in the Federal hospitals,

Mr. Baker came upon one that stirred him deeply. He was a

veteran who would seem to have been as frightfully mutilated

as any soldier that came out of the holocaust alive. Both legs

were gone, one arm gone, blinded in both eyes, his face was

terribly mutilated, and he was wheeled helplessly around the

grounds of the hospital in a perambulator by a nurse. No one

expected him to live.

Meeting some one from the hospital later on Mr. Baker

asked:

“Did that young man live?”

“Did he live?” echoed his friend. “Why, he’s married his

nurse.”

How marvelous, reflected Mr. Baker, is the capacity of

[ 41 ]



women to love those who stand desperately in need of loving

and who pour out their love for the sheer joy of giving.

Several years elapsed, and the incident had almost faded

from his mind when Mr. Baker, as a trustee of Johns Hopkins

University received a letter from its President. The letter in-

formed him of the plan of the University to do an unusual

thing, to hold a mid-semester convocation to confer the Doctor

of Philosophy degree upon a young man who in spite of being

heavily handicapped had done one of the most brilliant pieces

of research work ever done at the University.

To his amazement the name was that of the crippled veteran

—William Harrison Craig. Still incredulous, Mr. Baker in-
vestigated further and discovered that it was none other than

the multilated soldier whom nobody had expected to live, much

less to shove back the boundaries of our darkness. When the

crippled scholar was wheeled across the stage to receive the

highest honor within the competency of Johns Hopkins, the

students and faculty stood up and cheered as they had never

cheered in all the history of the University.

As I read this story, I wondered: Was there not another

person in that story who might well have received a doctorate.

What about that gracious, kind and radiant nurse who did

not stop with the routine duties of a nurse, but who bathed

this helpless invalid with her love and tenderness? With all

due credit to the plucky veteran for his magnificent achieve-

ment, is there any one, I wonder, who can withhold his meed

of admiration from that great-hearted woman whose love

opened those sightless eyes to ferret out new truth from nature’s

tangled skein, and who inspired him with the will to live, to

struggle, to achieve.

An inspiring love like hers, that did not stop to count the

cost, but poured itself out in torrential streams of devotion,

service and sacrifice is the hidden lining of the story of more

superlative achievements than this world dreams of. Love that

flows over the bounds of duty, that forgets itself in the minis-

try of others, that asks only the joy of giving, only the privilege

[ 42 ]



of serving, sacrificing and dying for its beloved, is the one force

which lifts the universe. It shines with the white radiance of

eternity, and discloses to us most authentically the essential

nature of God. For where noble, unselfish, sacrificial love is,

there is God. Where God is, there is Heaven.

VII

THE SECOND MILE

fTTHE men and women who have made the greatest contribu-

tions to human welfare, who have blazed new trails through

ethical jungles, and have carved their names most deeply upon

the grateful hearts of the race, are those who did not stop to

count the cost in labor, in love, in sacrifice. They threw their

lives upon the altar of mankind’s progress, esteemed the sacri-

fice as naught, and regretted only that they had but one life

to give.

“The men,” observes Dr. H. E. Fosdick, “who have struck

humanity’s life as the shaft of water strikes the turbine at

Niagara, saying, ‘Move,’ have been men who knew that ‘God

does not always pay wages on a Saturday,’ and so were willing

to serve on through all hostility, to help the very humanity

that cursed them while they blessed. The roll-call of the

world’s spiritual heroes reveals not a single one-mile man. For

no man ever saved anybody, or served any great cause, or left

any enduring impress who was not willing to forget indignities,

bear no grudges, and, like Paul when the Jews had cast him out

of their synagogues, had beaten, stoned, and all but killed him,

say, ‘I could wish myself accursed for my brethren’s sake, my

kinsmen according to the flesh. . . . My heart’s desire and

prayer to God for Israel is that they may be saved.’ The

world’s saviors have all, in one way or another, loved their ene-

mies and done them good. All of saviorhood lies in the second

mile.”

[ 43 ]



It was the perception of Christ’s law of surplus love and

service which transformed Toyohiko Kagawa into one of the

noblest ethical characters of Japan, an apostle of social justice,

a defender of the rights of the poor and lowly, a pleader for

peace amidst the raucous shouts of the Nipponese for war. It

caused him to share his little shack, about ten by eight, and

his meager food, with a beggar. In this little hut in the slum

district of Osobe, he wrote his radiant songs of Jesus and his

books which have carried the winsome picture of Christ into

the hearts of hundreds of thousands of his countrymen.

When confronted by a bully who demanded his few coins

to buy liquor, Kagawa refused. Whereupon the bully rained

blow after blow upon his face, knocking out several of his teeth

and causing the blood to stream from his lips. But Kagawa

did not strike back. His vision of Christ, buffeted, spat upon

and saying, “If any one strike thee on the right cheek, turn to

him the left also,” restrained him. Terror-stricken at the

strange spectacle, the bully fled in dismay.

For there is something deep down in the heart of man that

crumples at the sight of a person who innocent, defenseless and

unafraid bears the buffetings and blows heaped upon him with-

out striking back. Physical force falls to its knees in awe when

confronted with the moral might of the naked human soul.

Kagawa has made the hearts of uncounted thousands in the

Orient burn with a new love for Christ as he walks the second

mile among them with a love that never stops to count the cost

in labor, in kindliness, in sacrifice.

Lore Casts Out Fear

It was the perception of this law which took possession of

Albert Schweitzer, eminent in philosophy, theology, Scripture

and music. Learning of the plight of the natives of the

Lambarene district in the Belgian Congo, with no doctor to

minister to their many ills, he surrendered his chair at Strass-

burg, studied medicine, and for fourteen years has ministered

as a physician to the most neglected of God’s children in

[ 44 ]



equatorial Africa. Upon the heartstrings of these people he has

played a nobler melody than ever he played upon the great

organs of Europe—a melody singing into their hearts the
thrilling song of Christ.

An incident in the Spanish Civil War illustrates a love that

did not strike back but returned love for hatred. When the

lust of the Reds to burn churches, hospitals, convents and to

kill priests and nuns was at its height, an old priest was being

led out to face the firing squad. His hands were tied.

“Please cut these ropes,” he said, “that I may bless you.”

Seizing an axe a Communist hacked off not only the ropes,

but his hands. Lifting his mangled arms above the execu-

tioner’s head, the venerable priest moved his bleeding stumps

in benediction over him.

“I forgive you,” he said, “and may God forgive you and

bless you.”

When many of the battles in that tragic war will have

faded into oblivion, the memory of this act of heroic love will

live. When the passions subside, and reason returns, the

memory of this act will teach friend and foe alike that the

highest courage and the greatest heroism are found not in the

deeds of carnage and slaughter but in a refusal to strike back,

in forgiveness, in a love that embraces enemies. Such a love is

the crowning glory of every noble character.

Jesus showed us the way to this nobility of character when

nailed to the Cross, with the executioners torturing His thirst-

ing lips with vinegar mixed with gall, and with the centurion

piercing His side in quest of the last drop of His blood, He

uttered the prayer: “Father, forgive them for they know not

what they do.” There is the love that embraces enemies, that

washes away all hatred and knows no fear. Love needs no de-

fense. Love does not fail. For back of the man who wields

only the weapon of love are rallied all the moral forces of the

universe, giving a cosmic potency and a divine efficacy to his

weapon of straw.

To love those who hate us is not easy. It is, however, the

[ 45 ]



distinctive mark of the true Christian, the unfailing test of no-

bility of character. It begets the richest premium in peace of

mind and happiness both in time and in eternity. When St.

John, who penetrated farther into the mystery of love than any

other human, wrote: “Perfect love casteth out fear, because

fear hath pain,” he epitomized for all mankind a volume of

psychotherapy which psychiatrists will be but unraveling for

centuries to come.

We all need to utter the words of Rosa Marinoni in her

“Plea for Greater Strength”:

I do not want

The bravery of those

Who, gun in hand,

Rush forth to slay their foes,

Not hatred, greed,

Or glory of conquest,

Would I find rooted

In my human breast.

But this, O God, I ask:

“Please make me strong

To offer love to those

Who do me wrong.”

In an upright life, an unfaltering faith and a love that em-

braces enemies, mankind has a divine prescription for the

conquest of fear, the attainment of character and the achieve-

ment of that high courage of soul which looks out into the

faces of men through eyes that are unafraid.

The Noblest Work

The man of character is one, therefore, who has accustomed

himself to act habitually on the motives of an all-embracing

love. Scorning the tendency to strike back, the man in whose

character love is enthroned will repay hatred with love, injury

with forgiveness, and in so doing will esteem himself to be

[ 46 ]



privileged to walk humbly in the footsteps of the gentle Christ.

The man of character will scorn the base, the mean, the petty,

the vulgar. He will have a chastity of honor which will feel

the slightest blemish as an ugly wound. He will be truthful,

honest, fair in his public dealings and in his private thinking.

The man of character is a concrete illustration of the truth of

Pope’s utterance: “An honest man’s the noblest work of God.”

Character is manifested most clearly by deeds of restraint

and self-control. The day before Britain and France declared

war on Germany, the writer was traveling in a train from Lon-

don to Oxford. Into the compartment, meant for eight, were

jammed at least twenty. Many of them were mothers taking

their children to safer territory. In lifting his valise to the

rack above the seats, a recruit struck a young mother in the

face with the corner of the suitcase. It was a painful blow

causing the eye to become discolored. “Dreadfully sorry,” was

all he said. In spite of her stinging pain, the mother smiled

understanding^, and uttered not a word of complaint. There

was character, strong, disciplined, eloquent in its silent self-

restraint. Men and women of such character in a world where

there is so much irascibility and pettiness are, in George Eliot’s

phrase, like “a fine quotation from the Bible ... in a para-

graph of today’s newspaper.”

In order to secure such self-mastery, self-denial and self-

discipline are necessary. The appetite which is always pam-

pered, petted and indulged, becomes imperious and domineer-

ing. By denying oneself at times pleasures that are lawful we

strengthen the muscles of the will, so that it will be more

capable of resisting pleasures which are unlawful. We thereby

fortify the enthronement of our conscience and our intellect

over our appetites and cravings. Then when the temptation

comes we shall be able to stand unshaken.

Promotes Happiness

Strength of will which comes through self-denial and disci-

pline is necessary to success in every line of endeavor—in
[ 47 ]



literature, in science, in art, in commerce, in athletics. Look

at the athletes who are training day after day on the cinder

track. See those muscles of theirs, at first soft and flabby,

change under the dint of daily discipline until they become

as sinews of iron. So it is with the Christian, whose will at

first soft and flabby gradually becomes like iron under the

lash of daily discipline. This strength of will developed by

spiritual exercises carries over into every department of life

—

making for success in scholarship, in athletics, in business, in

life.

Not only does it make for success, but it makes for that

subjective correlate of success—happiness and peace of mind.
True happiness is found not in the enslavement of the will

to the passions, but in the enthronement of the conscience and

the will over the appetites and the instincts of man. There is

found that deeper and truer happiness which is not dependent

upon external circumstances, but is found within—in the king-
dom of the mind.

Some years ago the students at the University of Illinois

honored at a public mass meeting Alec Morrison, who carried

the colors of Illinois to victory at the Olympic games at Am-

sterdam by winning the welterweight wrestling championship

of the world. After congratulating him upon his great

achievement, I asked him how long he had trained for the

contest.

“Father,” he said, “scarcely a day has passed in the last

seven years that I haven’t gone through some special exercise

designed to prepare me for that encounter.”

No wonder that he was as hard as iron and steel and able

to withstand the assaults of the best wrestlers among all the

nations of the world. If men toil and discipline themselves

through rigorous self-denial to win a race for an earthly prize,

how much greater should be our zeal and earnestness in seek-

ing to win the race of life that leads to a crown of imperish-

able glory!

[ 48 ]



Mental Discipline

Not less necessary than the discipline of the body is the

discipline of the mind. “Man’s intellect,” observes Carrel,

“must be kept supple by discipline. In Plato’s Academy young

men debated political and moral problems with each other and

their elders. During the twelfth century, students walked a

hundred miles to hear Abelard deliver a single lecture. Today

our young people slump into a silly cinema, or seek the jittery

stimulation of a radio band. This flagrant waste of life’s

formative years arouses no protest from parents. It is shock-

ing. The intellectual teeth of a whole generation are rotting

from disuse while tough social and political problems beg for

vigorous mastication. There is not one of us who cannot be-

come a well-informed expert on at least one problem, and

exert an influence toward its proper solution.

“Active participation in some phase of civic life is the ideal

outlet for the unused energies of our young people. Quite

generally, children fail to learn in school the nature of their

relation to the community. In every community there are

specific problems to which they can address themselves. To-

day, no one, young or old, can remain a passive observer of the

stupendous events going on about us. Our national destiny is

inseparably bound up with our individual resourcefulness and

initiative.”
1

Moral Discipline

Moral power likewise is achieved only through discipline.

The crowning jewel in the human personality is spiritual beauty

which radiates peace, power, and tranquillity. How is this

power achieved?” “Let me tell you,” answers Carrel, “of a

student friend of mine. Idealistic, ambitious, and believing the

Christian saints were the most highly vitalized sources of moral

energy, he chose as his pattern St. Aloysius, patron saint of

students. Emulating Aloysius, he practiced self-dedication,

arduous study and ascetic control. Rigorously he exercised

l Ibid.

[ 49 ]



his moral faculties, strengthening them by daily use. Small

consistent gains were hammered into lasting virtues, until at

last something of the spirtual grandeur of St. Aloysius enters

this young man, shines through him, influences his life and

those about him.

“ Self-conquest is not easy. Yet once acquired it brings to

the individual the true joy of living. Those who have experi-

enced the magnificence of this feeling are no longer content

with a continuous round of puerile and vapid pleasures.”
2

Christ's Self-Control

If one will study with care the character of our Divine Sa-

viour as portrayed in the Gospels, he will find it adorned in

an eminent degree with all the qualities which have distin-

guished the illustrious heroes of the world. Wisdom, power,

mercy and love shine forth luminously from His sublime per-

sonality. But as one studies that complex character at greater

length and secures a more penetrating insight into it, he gradu-

ally becomes conscious that there is some subtle quality there,

blending all these into a harmonious whole, which is lacking

in the character of the great heroes of the world. There is

no jar, no jolt, none of the strange inconsistencies that glare

out at us from the lives of the secular heroes.

That quality is the Saviour’s perfect self-mastery, self-con-

trol. Never for an instant in all the scenes of the Master’s

earthly life is there an incident wherein a rash, hasty, head-

strong action mars the even tenor and the surpassing beauty

of the Saviour’s unfailing equanimity and perfect self-control.

Washington’s greatness bears ever the tarnish of his profanity

and ill-temper. Napoleon’s glory is dimmed by his uncon-

trolled concupiscence. But when on trial of His life before

the court of Caiphas, when buffeted and spat upon by His

executioners, even when stripped of His garments and nailed

to the Cross, the Master shows no sign of anger or vindic-

2 Ibid.

[SO]



tiveness. Never for a moment does He lose that marvelous

mastery of Himself.

That is one of the reasons why the name of Jesus stands out

among all the names in human history—the solitary example
of perfect self-control. As Richter has said: “The purest among

the strong, and the strongest among the pure, Jesus lifted with

His wounded hands empires from their hinges and changed the

stream of centuries.” He taught man the greatest of all arts

—

the art of self-control.

Self-knowledge, self-reverence, self-control

In these alone lie sovereign power

Who conquers self, rule others

Aye, is lord and ruler of the universe.

The person who would develop strength of character must

learn the lesson of self-discipline. It is one of the most essen-

tial elements for success in the earthly and spiritual warfare

which we wage. The paths of life are strewn with the wrecks

of men and women conquering others, mastering the arts, un-

locking the secrets that lay hidden for countless centuries in

the unfathomed bosom of the earth, only to fall victims to their

own lusts, perishing in their own unconquered wilderness.

"Is It Worth While?"

Especially important in these days, when we are injuring

each year more than 1,000,000 and killing about 36,000 with

motor cars, is restraint in the use of liquor. The tipsy driver

has become the murderer par excellence. Sobriety is of su-

preme importance. Many a person has brought ruin, misery

and shame upon himself and his family through intemperance.

In the case of young people who lack the natural restraints

which come from maturity and experience, it is wiser to abstain

entirely. There are also adults who, because of a peculiar type

of nervous system, or a defect of the will, cannot indulge with

moderation. These should avoid drinking as they would avoid

an occasion of sin.

[ 51 ]



Some years ago I received a call at night to minister to a

dying man. He was in a cheap lodging house downtown in the

slum section of the city. After groping my way up a narrow

stairs, I found him lying on a cot in a room that was almost

bare. He was a man of about fifty, prematurely aged, his

hair almost gray, and deep lines in his face. The pallor of death

was on him, and he knew it. He had been on a prolonged

spree, had gone through the throes of delirium tremens, an in-

ternal hemorrhage had occurred, and death was a matter of

hours. I heard his confession and gave him the last sacraments.

“ Father,” he said, “I have a wife and family back home in

Bridgeport, Conn. I had a good job until I lost it through

drink. Rather than bring further shame and disgrace upon

my family, I left home. I have been roving about since like a

tramp, exiled from all my friends and from the family whom I

love, because I could not overcome the passion for drink. Fa-

ther,” he said, as I was leaving, “I would give anything in the

world if I could but start again, free from this terrible habit

which is pulling me down to a drunkard’s grave.”

If I could have gathered into that room all the young men

and women who are starting the habit of drink, and have had

them gaze upon the tragedy before me, a man wrecked in body,

mind and soul, dying a drunkard’s death, would they not ask

themselves: “Is it worth while? Am I not better off without

it?” As I went down the creaking stairs, out into the dark-

ness of the winter night, the words of the dying man echoed

in my ear. I prayed that God might protect the youth of our

land from the fate that had befallen him.

VIII

THE INFLUENCE OF CHARACTER

/CHARACTER is both more infectious and more influential
^ than mere intellect. The man who exercised as deep and
wholesome an influence upon the student body at the Univer-

[ 52 ]



sity of Illinois over a period of forty years as anyone was

George Huff, a varsity coach and athletic director. Why? Be-

cause he stood in the eyes of all who knew him as a synonym

for fairness and clean sportsmanship. An incident will illus-

trate.

“Before a crucial game between Illinois and Michigan, that

would have a decisive bearing on the Big Ten Championship

in basketball,” relates the veteran referee, Brick Young, “Mr.

Huff called me into his office. I had heard of efforts by coaches

to pressure officials before big games to give their team the

breaks in any doubtful decisions. I wondered what was up.

But I hadn’t long to wait.

“There was a good deal of feeling last year, Mr. Young,”

he quoted Huff as saying, “when these two teams played here.

Students in their excitement jumped out on the floor and booed

unfavorable decisions. I have asked them not to engage in

such unsportsmanlike conduct. But under excitement some

may forget themselves, and I apologize to you now if they are

guilty of any ungentlemanly conduct.

“Now,” continued Mr. Huff, “I have one request to ask.

If there are any doubtful decisions, as there probably will be,

decide everyone in favor of Michigan. They are our guests,

and I want them shown every courtesy and favor.”

“We were alone,” said Mr. Young. “These words were

meant only for me. But nothing in twenty years of officiating

has touched me more deeply.”

In that little incident the character of George Huff shone

forth. Manly, square, honest, he would rather see his team

go down to defeat than to win by questionable decisions. He

was honest to the point of standing over backwards. If the

athletic fortunes at all the big universities of our land were in

similar hands, there would be no fear of professionalism and

none of the underhanded proselytism and camouflaged bribery

now so rampant. Is it any wonder that his influence radiated

beyond the department of varsity athletics and intramural

sports and infected the whole student body, so that he became

[ 53 ]



for them the shining symbol of an honesty that never faltered?

Well might we say of him what Julia says of Proteus in The

Two Gentlemen of Verona:

His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;

His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate;

His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.
1

"I Apologize"

The man who has exercised the deepest influence upon the

students at Notre Dame is Knute Rockne. The writer first met

him in 1912, when as an obscure player on a college football

team that essayed to do battle with Notre Dame on old Cartier

Field, he got first hand impressions of the wizardry of Rockne

in action with Dorais and Eichenlaub. Since then Rockne’s

stature has bulked large. His fame is nationwide and the

memory of his wit, humor and sportsmanship are among the

hallowed traditions of a campus on which many a football

great has fought his way to glory and renown. Running as

threads of gold through all the incidents of the most colorful

figure in the football world was the shining splendor of an

honest and noble character lighted by the fire of genius. Many

of the incidents have been recorded in print or cinema. Here

is one, however, never published before. Narrated to the writer

by Joe Petritz, an intimate of the great coach, it reveals an

aspect not too generally known.

“Back in 1930,” narrates Joe, “there was a husky, Irish

tackle who gave promise of great things to come, when sud-

denly he went lame. ‘Sprained ankle/ he said, when Rock

asked what was up. But when it persisted after all the usual

treatment had been administered and an X-ray picture dis-

closed nothing, there were arched eyebrows among the squad

when his name came up.

i Act II, Scene 7.

[ 54 ]



“
‘He can’t take it/ said some. ‘Yellow/ said others. Rock

himself, thinking the boy was kidding himself, went after him

pretty roughly, seeking to free him from the delusion of injury

which athletes sometimes experience.

“
‘What’s the matter with that lily liver of yours/ stormed

Rock. ‘Quit kidding yourself. The sprain isn’t in your ankle.

It’s in your head. The only Charley horse you have is between

your ears.’
”

“Try as he would, however, the tackle couldn’t snap out of

it. He couldn’t help but limp. Toward the end of the season

another X-ray picture was taken. It told a different story.

There was a chipped piece of bone in the ankle for which the

constant exercising had done no good. When the news reached

Rock, he was silent. His brow knitted. What was he to do?

“He could have gone around and made a little apology to

the tackle in private. But Rock didn’t. He waited till the

football banquet for the entire squad. This, remember, was in

1930, when his team had come through for the second consecu-

tive season with the national championship. Rock was then

at the height of his fame, receiving the plaudits of millions.

‘The wizard of all the coaches’ the papers acclaimed him.

“
‘Men/ said Rock, ‘I’ve made a mistake. I’ve been wholly

unfair to a man on the squad who has been fighting his heart

out for the team in the face of a terrific handicap. There was

no sprain in Dick Donahue’s head, but there was a chipped

bone in his ankle. I make a public apology, and I want the

record to show that Dick doesn’t know the meaning of the word

yellow And with that, Rock went over and clasped Dick’s

hand while the squad cheered his name.”

"The Finest Work of Man is . . .
”

When the Board of Investigators was threatening to deflate

intercollegiate athletics in general and football in particular,

Rockne appeared as the spokesman of his brother coaches and

made as stirring and memorable a plea in defense of athletics

[55]



as the nation has ever heard. Denouncing the prevailing soft-

ness which was sapping the virility of young men and turning

out lounge lizards and tea hounds, Rockne pleaded for the

lash of discipline, hardship, sweat and sacrifice. By more than

a decade and a half he anticipated the warning of Dr. Alexis

Carrel and other far-seeing leaders that the youth of America

must learn to harden themselves morally, physically and in-

tellectually.

“If I have learned any one fact in my twenty years of work

with boys,” he said, “it’s this—the most dangerous thing in
American life today is that we’re getting soft, inside and out!

We’re losing a forceful heritage of mind and body that was

once our most precious possession.

“We—these men and I—have given our lives to working
that flaccid philosophy out of our boys’ minds and bodies. We

believe the finest work of man is building the character of man .

We have tried to build courage and initiative, tolerance and

persistence, without which the most educated brain in the head

of man is not worth very much.”

A Light in the Sky

Is it any wonder that the boys admired this man who taught

them to take their victories humbly and their defeats without

an alibi. They saw this man take raw decisions and heart

rending defeats without a word of public criticism or complaint.

They saw him throw in his third and fourth teams to save an

opposing coach from the humiliation of too overwhelming a

defeat. They saw him speak highly of his opponents and

modestly of his own men.

They knew that whatever “boners” they might pull, that no

matter how hard Rockne might ride them in private, that he

would have no word of criticism for them in public. They

knew that he had one pet phrase, when asked about any man

who ever played under him, “He gave all that he had for the

team and Notre Dame.” Their reputations were safe in the

tender hands of this stern man who taught them to fight with

[ 56 ]



courage of untamed tigers and to fight the hardest when the

“going gets tough.”

When the news of his death flashed across the country,

stunning millions who felt they knew this intensely human and

loveable personality as an intimate, its repercussions were na-

tionwide. A little newsboy in Atlanta, Ga., had his papers spread

on his favorite corner, when suddenly he glanced at the scream-

ing headline, ROCKNE DIES IN PLANE CRASH. Turning

his back on his newspapers, a small fortune to him, and hiding

his face in his hands to conceal the tears that streamed down

his cheeks, he shuffled disconsolately home. The bottom had

fallen out of his world. His hero had died. A patch of color,

red as the rose, streaked out across the Kansas horizons on

that fateful evening in March, and left something of its crimson

glory shining in the sky long after the sun had set.

Farmers running from their plows found near the wreckage

of a plane the broken body of a man. Twisted around his

fingers was a rosary. Rockne had practiced what he preached.

When the plane was falling from the sky, and the “going was

getting tough,” Rockne was in there fighting, storming Heaven

as he had so often stormed the Army line. He was storming

it, however, not with charging tackles nor driving backs.

Strategy called for a different line of attack. A line Rock was

not slow to perceive. The spearhead of his attack as he flung

himself against the gates of Heaven was . . . the rosary of Our

Lady. Who will deny that it was the best “running inter-

ference” that any player ever had?

Life's Masterpiece

A soft amber light falls upon the bronze bust of this grizzled

warrior in the Rockne Memorial at Notre Dame, reminding

one of the Cathedral-like atmosphere of the Hotel des Invalides

in Paris where the ashes of the mighty Napoleon rest in martial

glory amidst the flags that waved on all his far-flung battle-

fields. The writer has witnessed many a young visitor stand

in awe before the effigy of Rockne, as he seemed to hear the

[ 57 ]



famed warrior speak again his message to the youth of

America: “Be men of honesty, of disciplined character, of high

ideals, of courage under fire. Scorn the base and the vulgar,

fight fair, and win the clean glory of an unblemished name.”

Of Rockne might be applied the words uttered by Edward

Everett in 1835 about Washington: “A great character, found-

ed on the living rock of principle, is in fact, not a solitary

phenomenon to be at once perceived, limited, and described.

It is a dispensation of Providence, designed to have not merely

an immediate, but a continuous, progressive, and never-ending

agency. It survives the man who possessed it; survives his

age—perhaps his country, his language.”
Over the doors of the Post Office in New York are in-

scribed the words: “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom

of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their

appointed rounds.” All the voices of earth and heaven are

proclaiming to youth: Permit neither the lust for pleasure, nor

the craving for wealth, nor the lure for popularity to stay you

from the swift achievement of a character founded on principles

and lighted by high and noble ideals. That is life’s master-

piece. For then the edifice of your career will be founded on a

rock which will stand like Gibraltar when the storms and the

tempests beat upon it, only to find it standing still, upright

and unmoved. Such a character is in the words of Shake-

speare,

... an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken

It is the star to every wandering bark.

[ 58 ]



DISCUSSION CLUB QUESTIONS

Chapter I

1. What marvels has science placed at the disposal of peo-

ple today?

2. What use are many of the civilized nations making of

the discoveries of modern science? Why?

3. What message is a world in flames proclaiming to hu-

manity?

4. What is meant by character?

5. Compare the man of character with the opportunist.

6. How does character differ from intellectual power?

7. Is character the same as reputation?

8. What is the difference between character and person-

ality?

9. Contrast the characters of Alcabiades and of Socrates.

10.

Describe the character of Jesus.

Chapter II

1. Character is the net resultant of what?

2. How do habits sculpture character?

3. How would you define habit? Why?

4. What is meant by automatism?

[ 59 ]



5. What are some of the marvels of automatism and

why?

6. What is the ethical significance of habit?

7. What is the sequence from a thought to destiny?

8. What instance showing the force of habit does Huxley

relate ?

9. How is habit the fly-wheel of society?

10.

What is the peculiar importance of the first six years

of a child’s life? Of the first twenty years?

Chapter III

1. Why should we make our nervous system our ally in-

stead of our enemy?

2. Why is it wise to make habitual the performance of as

many duties as possible early in life?

3. Why is a vigorous initiative important in the formation

of a habit? Illustrate.

4. Tell the story of St. Augustine.

5. Why is it important to continue the initiative?

6. What do we mean when we say that effort is accumu-

lative ?

7. Who offers the classic example of perseverance?

8. Why should no exception be permitted to occur?

9. Why is this particularly true of sensuality?

10.

What is meant by “tapering off”? To what habits

would this apply?

[ 60 ]



Chapter IV

1. Why should one grasp the first opportunity to trans-

late his resolve into action?

2. Why should emotion yield a precipitate of action?

3. What example did Rousseau set in this regard?

4. Why is full-hearted effort essential in forming habits?

5. Why is concentration of attention the index of effi-

ciency ?

6. Cite the experience of John Erskine in this regard.

7. Why should you tell your friends about your resolu-

tions?

8. What instance does Jane Addams narrate in this re-

gard?

9. What is the idea back of the vow ?

10.

Why is it well to tell your friends about your resolve

to abstain from liquor?

Chapter V

1. Why is it well to start with little things rather than

with big ones?

2. What does the author of “The Imitation of Christ” say

of this?

3. Why is it wise to make the practice of the habit as

pleasant as possible?

4. Why is a word of encouragement advisable to a be-
ginner ?

[ 61 ]



5. Why should one keep the faculty of effort alive in one?

6. How is this best done?

7. What is the testimony of William James? of Dr. Alexis

Carrel?

8. Why does St. Paul say it is necessary to mortify the

flesh?

9. What does William James mean when he says “the

molecules are counting it”?

10.

Why is it well to understand one’s resources and one’s

limitations?

Chapter VI

1. How are ideals sources of power?

2. What is meant by a hierarchy of values?

3. What does St. Thomas Aquinas say in this regard?

4. What is the supreme ideal which Christ holds before

us?

5. State in your own words St. Paul’s exposition of

charity.

6. How does unselfishness develop character?

7. What is the law of surplus service?

8. What two instances of the necessity of surplus service

does Christ cite?

9. What is the mark of Christ’s discipleship?

10.

What does Iago say of the character of Desdemona?

[ 62 ]



Chapter VII

1. What is meant by “men of the second mile” ?

2. How did Kagawa put the law of surplus love into

practice ?

3. Would you be able to act as Kagawa did?

4. How does love cast out fear? Illustrate.

5. Can you recite from memory Rosa Marinoni’s poem?

6. Why may an honest man be said to be the noblest work

of God?

7. How does self-control manifest character? Illustrate.

8. How does strength of will promote happiness?

9. Who offers the solitary example of perfect self-con-

trol?

10. Compare the character of Christ with the noblest of

men.

11. Why is sobriety of such importance today?

Chapter VIII

1. Which is more influential, character or intellect?

Why?

2. Narrate the story about George Huff.

3. Why does the direction of inter-collegiate sports re-
quire men of character?

4. Who has exercised the greatest influence on youth at
Notre Dame? Why?

[ 63 ]



5. Narrate the story told about Rockne’s apology.

6. How might he have squared himself with the player

without a public apology?

7. In what spirit did Rockne take victory? Defeat? Raw

decisions?

8. How did Rockne safeguard the reputation of his play-

ers?

9. State in your own words Everett’s description of a

great character.

10.

Why is the building of a noble character life’s master-

piece?

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Allers, Rudolph, The Psychology of Character

,

Sheed & Ward.

Hull, Ernest R., S.J., The Formation of Character

,

B. Herder

Co.

James, William, Psychology

,

Vol. I, Henry Holt & Co.

Moore, T. V., Dynamic Psychology

,

J. B. Lippincott Co.

Morrison, Bakewell, S.J., Character Formation in College y

Bruce Publishing Co.

Neumann, Henry, Lives in the Making

,

D. Appleton Co.

O’Brien, John A., Pathways to Happiness

,

Our Sunday Visitor;

The Power of Love

,

The Paulist Press; The Faith of Mil-

lions, Our Sunday Visitor.

Troth, D. C., Editor, Selected Readings in Character Forma-

tion, Beacon Press.

[ 64 ]



u

O,