cT 
 
ELIAS HOWE, JR. 
 
ROOM AT THE TOP: 
 
 OR, HOW TO REACH 
 
 Success, Happiness 
 
 Fame and Fortune. 
 
 WITH BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF SUCCESSFUL, SELF-MADE MEN, 
 WHO HAVE RISEN FROM OBSCURITY TO FAME, INCLUDING 
 
 GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD, 
 
 ELIHU B. WASHBURNE, DWIGHT L. MOODY. 
 
 CORNELIUS VANDERBILT, GEORGE PEABODY, 
 
 ROBERT FULTON, ELIAS HOWE, JR., 
 
 HIRAM POWERS, JAY GOULD, 
 
 THURLOW WEED. 
 
 WITH TEN PORTRAITS ; ALSO RULES FOR BEHAVIOR 
 
 IN SOCIETY. 
 
 BY A. CRAIG. 
 
 , 
 
 " ,, ' <' 
 
 n * . . ' . v " 
 
 - ' - - - 
 
 AUGUSTA, MAINE : 
 TRUE & CO. 
 
COPYRIGHT, 
 BY TRUE & COMPANY. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 f^OOM AT THE TOP always room there. 
 L Life has been likened to a ladder, the top 
 
 ra round of which many people find it difficult 
 
 to reach, some making but few steps upward, and 
 others becoming disheartened when almost at the top. 
 
 The aim of this book is to set forth in plain, prac- 
 tical words, the best and truest course to pursue to 
 reach the highest aims and end of life SUCCESS, 
 HAPPINESS, FAME AND FORTUNE. 
 
 To the young man starting out in life, who faithfully 
 follows its teachings, it will act as a counselor, guide 
 and friend. 
 
 The Biographical Sketches will show him what self- 
 taught, hard-working, earnest men have accomplished, 
 and act as an incentive to perseverance and deter- 
 mination in the effort to conquer all obstacles. 
 
 The RULE FOR BEHAVIOR will help him to acquire 
 that gentlemanly deportment and politeness which 
 tend to grace a man's intercourse with those with 
 whom he is associated. 
 
 The selections have been culled from the works of 
 well-known writers, whom opinions and authority upon 
 such subjects are of great value and interest. 
 
 That many young men may find this little work of 
 great service to them in their laudable efforts to suc- 
 ceed in life, is the sincere desire of 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 CHICAGO, 1882. 
 
 269554 
 
PORTRAITS. 
 
 ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 
 
 DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 
 
 GEORGE PEABODY. 
 
 CORNELIUS VANDERBILT. 
 
 ROBERT FULTON. 
 
 GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD 
 
 ELIAS HOWE. 
 
 HIRAM POWERS. 
 
 JAY GOULD. 
 
 THURLOW WEED. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 
 
 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS . 14 
 
 The Beginning of Life . . . * 16 
 
 Begin Well 19 
 
 What To Do ...... 20 
 
 What Am I Fit For 24 
 
 Resistance to Temptation .... 33 
 
 A High Standard Necessary .... 37 
 
 All Honest Industry Honorable ... 38 
 
 Money-Making 39 
 
 The Love of Money 43 
 
 Riches No Proof of Worth .... 44 
 
 Evils of Self-indulgence .... 46 
 
 Power of Money Over-Estimated ... 47 
 
 Failure of Rich Men's Sons ... 48 
 
 True Respectability 49 
 
 Living Too High 51 
 
 Application and Perseverance . . . 52 
 
 Sedulity and Diligence .... 56 
 
 Good Counsel . . . . . . 57 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Courage of Hope . . . .'. 59 
 
 Choose Good Companions .... 60 
 
 Love of Knowledge . . . . . 61 
 
 Self-Denial ....... 63 
 
 Idleness Not Happiness .... 64 
 
 Procrastination . . . . . . 65 
 
 Value of Time 66 
 
 Value of Odd Moments 67 
 
 Behind Time ...... 68 
 
 One by One (poetry) . . . . 71 
 
 Learning in Youth ..... 72 
 
 The Power of Kindness ... T-J 
 
 t \J 
 
 Let Bygones be Bygones (poetry) . . 74 
 
 Thoughtlessness of Youth . . . 75 
 
 Washington on Swearing . . . . 76 
 
 Beware of Little Sins . . . . 77 
 
 Conscientiousness in Small Things . . 78 
 
 Effects of Worry . ... . .80 
 
 Keep Your Temper . . . . . 81 
 
 Truth and Falsehood . . . . .82 
 
 Characters 83 
 
 Wisdom and Goodness . . 91 
 
 Energy and Courage ..... 94 
 
 Force of Purpose -95 
 
 Promptitude and Decision .... 98 
 
CONTENTS. ix 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Riches and Refinement 99 
 
 The Strength of Silence . . . . 100 
 
 Correct Speech . . . . . . 101 
 
 Coarseness ....... 102 
 
 Ready Men 103 
 
 Timely Jests . . . . . . 106 
 
 The Steady and Sober Succeed . . . 107 
 
 Courage in Sickness . . . . . 108 
 
 How to Read .no 
 
 What to Read . . . . . . in 
 
 How to Enjoy 123 
 
 What to Enjoy 130 
 
 Marriage 135 
 
 Why a Man Needs a Wife . . . . 136 
 
 Happiness 137 
 
 Success . . . . . . . 143 
 
 The Irreparable Past 147 
 
 Prepared for the End 150 
 
 THRIFT. 
 
 Industry 156 
 
 Habits of Thrift 169 
 
 Methods of Economy ..... 192 
 
 SELF-MADE MEN 197 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Elihu B. Washburne ...... 204 
 
 Dwight Lyman Moody o .-.-.. 226 
 
 George Peabody ... . . 240 
 
 Cornelius Vanderbilt . . . -. . 257 
 
 Robert Fulton . 266 
 
 Gen. James A. Garfield ... 280 
 
 Elias Howe ....... 292 
 
 Hiram Powers . 303 
 
 Jay Gould . . . . . . 315 
 
 Thurlow Weed . . . . . . 327 
 
 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. ... ?qi 
 
 w %J 
 
 Etiquette , 353 
 
 Introductions -357 
 
 Letters of Introduction . 359 
 
 Salutes and Salutations 361 
 
 Calls .... o ... 364 
 
 Conversation . . . . . . 370 
 
 Street Etiquette ...... 378 
 
 Travelling ....... 383 
 
 Etiquette in Church ..... 385 
 
 Etiquette for Places of Amusement . . . 387 
 
 Table Etiquette ...... 389 
 
 The Gentleman's Toilette . 392 
 
 Miscellaneous ...... 396 
 
WORK AWAY! 
 
 away ' 
 
 For the Master's eye is on us. 
 
 Never off us, still upon us. 
 
 Night and day ! 
 
 Work away ! 
 
 Keep the busy fingers plying t 
 Keep the ceaseless shuttles flying ; 
 See that never thread lie wrong ; 
 Let not clash or clatter round us, 
 Sound of whirring wheels confound us; 
 Steady hand ! let woof be strong 
 And firm, that has to last so long ! 
 Work away ! 
 
 Bring your axes, woodmen true , 
 Smite the forest till the blue 
 Of Heaven's sunny eye looks through 
 Every wide and tangled glade ; 
 Jungle swamp and thicket shade 
 
 Give to-day ! 
 
 O'er the torrent's fling your bridges. 
 Pioneers ! Upon the ridges 
 Widen, smooth the rocky stair 
 They that follow, far behind, 
 
13 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 Coming after us, will find 
 Surer, easier, footing there ; 
 Heart to heart, and hand with hand, 
 From the dawn to dusk of day, 
 
 Work away ! 
 
 Scouts upon the mountain's peak 
 Ye that see the Promised Land, 
 Hearten us ! for ye can speak 
 Of the country ye have scann'd, 
 
 Far away ! 
 
 Work away ! 
 
 For the Father's eye is on us. 
 Never off, still upon us, 
 
 Night and day ! 
 
 WORK AND PRAY ! 
 Pray ! and Work will be completer , 
 Work ! and Prayer will be the sweeter ; 
 Love ! and Prayer and Work the fleeter 
 Will ascend upon their way ! 
 
 Live in Future as in Present ; 
 Work for both while yet the day 
 Is our own ! for Lord and Peasant, 
 Long and bright as Summer's day, 
 Cometh, yet more sure, more pleasant, 
 Cometh soon our Holiday ; 
 Work away ! 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF " THE PATIENCE OF HOPE." 
 
SUCCESS 
 
 AND 
 
 HAPPINESS. 
 
THE BEGINNING OF LIFE. 
 
 [HERE is a charm in opening manhood which 
 has commended itself to the imagination in 
 every age. The undefined hopes and promises 
 of the future the dawning strength of intellect the 
 vigorous flow of passion the very exchange of home 
 ties and protected joys for free and manly pleasures, 
 give to this period an interest and excitement unfelt, 
 perhaps, at any other. It is the beginning of life in 
 the sense of independent and self-supporting action. 
 Hitherto life has been to boys, as to girls, a derivative 
 and dependent existence a sucker from the parent 
 growth a home discipline of authority and guidance 
 and communicated impulse. But henceforth it is a 
 transplanted growth of its own a new and free power 
 of activity, in which the mainspring is no longer 
 authority or law from without, but principle or opinion 
 from within. The shoot which has been nourished 
 under the shelter of the parent stem, and bent accord- 
 ing to its inclination, is transferred to the open world, 
 where of its own impulse and character it must take 
 
17 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 root, and grow into strength, or sink into weakness 
 and vice. 
 
 There is a natural pleasure in such a change. The 
 sense of freedom is always joyful, at least at first. The 
 mere consciousness of awakening powers and prospec- 
 tive work touches with elation the youthful breast. 
 
 But to every right-hearted youth this time must be 
 also one of severe trial. Anxiety must greatly dash 
 its pleasure. There must be regrets behind, and uncer- 
 tainties before. The thought of home must excite a 
 pang even in the first moments of freedom. Its glad 
 shelter its kindly guidance its very restraints, how 
 dear and tender must they seem in parting! How 
 brightly must they shine in the retrospect as the youth 
 turns from them to the hardened and unfamiliar face 
 of the world! With what a sweet, sadly-cheering 
 pathos must they linger in the memory ! And then 
 what chance and hazard is there in his newly-gotten 
 freedom ! What instincts of warning in its very nov- 
 elty and dim inexperience. What possibilities of fail- 
 ure as well as of success in the unknown future as it 
 stretches before him! 
 
 Serious thoughts like these more frequently underlie 
 the careless neglect of youth than is supposed. They 
 do not show themselves, or seldom do ; but they work 
 deeply and quietly. Even in the boy who seems all 
 
THE BEGINNING OF LIFE. 18 
 
 absorbed in amusement or tasks, there is frequently a 
 secret life of intensely serious consciousness, which 
 keeps questioning with itself as to the meaning 
 of what is going on around him, and what may be 
 before him which projects itself into the future, and 
 rehearses the responsibilities and ambitions of his 
 career. 
 
 Certainly there is a grave importance as well as a 
 pleasant charm in the beginning of life. There is awe 
 as well as excitement in it, when rightly viewed. The 
 possibilities that lie in it of noble or ignoble work of 
 happy self-sacrifice or ruinous self-indulgence the 
 capacities in the right use of which it may rise to 
 heights of beautiful virtue, in the abuse of which it 
 may sink to depths of debasing vice make the crisis 
 one of fear as well as of hope, of sadness as well as of 
 joy. It is wistful as well as pleasing to think of the 
 young passing year by year into the world, and 
 engaging with its duties, its interests, and temptations. 
 Of the throng that struggle at the gates of entrance, 
 how many reach their anticipated goal? Carry the 
 mind forward a few years, and some have climbed the 
 hills of difficulty and gained the eminence on which 
 they wished to stand some, although they may not 
 have done this, have yet kept their truth unhurt, their 
 integrity unspoiled ; but others have turned back, or 
 
19 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 have perished by the way, or fallen in weakness of will, 
 no more to rise again. 
 
 As we place ourselves with the young at the opening 
 gates of life, and think of the end from the beginning, 
 it is a deep concern more than anything else that fills 
 us. Words of earnest argument and warning counsel 
 rather than of congratulation rise to our lips. The 
 seriousness outweighs the pleasantness of the prospect 
 
 BEGIN WELL 
 
 k T is a great point for young men to begin well ; 
 for it is in the beginning of life that that system 
 of conduct is adopted, which soon assumes the 
 force of Habit. Begin well, and the habit of doing 
 well will become quite as easy as the habit of doing 
 badly. " Well begun is half ended," says the proverb ; 
 "and a good beginning is half the battle." Many 
 promising young men have irretrievably injured them- 
 selves by a first false step at the commencement of 
 life ; while others, of much less promising talents, have 
 succeeded simply by beginning well, and going onward. 
 The good practical beginning is, to a certain extent, a 
 pledge, a promise, and an assurance of the ultimate 
 prosperous issue. There is many a poor creature, now 
 
WHAT TO DO. 20 
 
 crawling through life, miserable himself and the cause 
 of sorrow to others, who might have lifted up his head 
 and prospered, if, instead of merely satisfying himself 
 with resolutions of well-doing, he had actually gone to 
 work and made a good practical beginning. 
 
 Too many are, however, impatient of results. They 
 are not satisfied to begin where their fathers did, but 
 where they left off. They think to enjoy the fruits of 
 industry without working for them. They cannot wait 
 for the results of labor and application, but forestall 
 them by too early indulgence. 
 
 WHAT TO DO. 
 
 "O the young who stand, as it were, on the 
 threshold of the great workhouse of the world, 
 preparing to take their part in it, it becomes a 
 serious and urgent consideration what part they are to 
 take in it. After the formation of Christian principles, 
 the choice of a profession is the most serious 'con- 
 sideration that can engage their attention. 
 
 Perhaps the first step in the consideration is to 
 realize the necessity of having definite work to do, 
 and the real worth, and, if we may say so, sacredness 
 of all honest work. There are few men who escape 
 
21 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 the necessity of adopting some calling or profession ; 
 and there are fewer still who, if they rightly under- 
 stood their own interest and happiness, would ever 
 think of such an escape. For, according to that law 
 of work of which we have already spoken, life finds its 
 most enjoy able action in regular alternations of employ- 
 ment and leisure. Without employment it becomes a 
 tedium, and men are forced to make work for them- 
 selves. They turn their very pleasures into toil, and 
 undertake, from the mere want of something to do, 
 the most laborious and exhausting pastimes. To any 
 healthy nature, idleness is an intolerable burden ; and 
 \ts enforced endurance a more painful penance than 
 the hardest labors. 
 
 It is not easy, however, for the young to realize 
 this. " Play " has been such a charm to their school- 
 boy fancy, that they sometimes dream that they would 
 like life to be all play. They are apt, at least, to take 
 to regular work with something of a grudge. They 
 have so many delays and difficulties about a profession, 
 that time passes on and they miss their opportunity. 
 There is no more serious calamity can happen to any 
 young man than this ; and many a life has been wasted 
 from sheer incapacity of fixing on what to do. The 
 will gets feeble in the direction of self-denial of any 
 kind, and talents which might have carried their 
 
WHAT TO DO. 22 
 
 possessor on to social consideration and usefulness, 
 serve merely to illumine an aimless and pitied exist- 
 ence. 
 
 Young men who are, so to speak, born to work to 
 whom life leaves no chance of idleness are perhaps 
 the most fortunate. They take up the yoke in their 
 youth. They set their faces to duty from the first ; 
 and if life should prove a burden, their backs become 
 inured to it, so that they bear the weight more easily 
 than others do pleasures and vanities. In our modern 
 life, this is a largely-increasing class. As the relations 
 of society become more complicated, and its needs 
 more enlarged, refined, and expensive, the duty of 
 work of every man to his own work becomes more 
 urgent and universal. There is no room left for the 
 idle. There are certainly no rewards to them. Society 
 expects every man to do his duty ; and its revenge is 
 very swift when its claims are neglected or its expecta- 
 tions disappointed. 
 
 But it is at least equally important for young men 
 to begin life with an intelligent appreciation of work 
 as a whole, and to free their mind from the prejudices 
 which have so long prevailed on this subject. It is 
 singular how long and to what extent these prejudices 
 have prevailed. Some kinds of employment have 
 been deemed by traditionary opinion to be honorable* 
 
23 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 and such as gentlemen may engage in; others have 
 been deemed to be base, and unfit for gentlemen. 
 Why so ? It would puzzle any moralist to tell. The 
 profession of a soldier is supposed to be the peculiar 
 profession of a gentleman ; that of a tailor is the 
 opprobrium of boys and the ridicule of small wits. 
 Is there not something untrue as well as unworthy in 
 the implied comparison ? 
 
 Let young men, and young women too, of whatever 
 grade of life, to whom there may seem no opening in 
 the now recognized channels of professional or dom- 
 estic activity which have been conventionally associ- 
 ated with their position, make to themselves, as they 
 may be able, an opening in the ranks of commercial 
 or mechanical employment. If society, from its very 
 increase of wealth and refinement, and the expensive 
 habits which necessarily flow from this increase, creates 
 obstacles to an advantageous settlement in life after 
 the old easy manner to many among the young, it cer- 
 tainly ought not by its prejudices to stand in the way 
 of their launching upon the great world of life in their 
 own behalf, and attaining to what industrial independ- 
 ence and prosperity they can. 
 
 It is at least a right and wise feeling for the young 
 to cultivate that there .is no form of horest work 
 which is really beneath them- It may or miy not be 
 
WHAT AM I FIT FOR? 24 
 
 suitable for them. It may or may not be the species 
 of work to which they have any call. But let them 
 not despise it. The grocer is equally honorable with 
 the lawyer, and the tailor with the soldier, as we have 
 already said. It is just as really becoming a gentle- 
 man if we could purge our minds of traditional delu- 
 sions which will not stand a moment's impartial 
 examination to serve behind a counter as to sit at a 
 desk, to pursue a handicraft as to indite a law paper 
 or write an article. The only work that is more honor- 
 able, is work of higher skill and more meritorious ex- 
 cellence. It is the qualities of the workman, and not 
 the name or nature of the work, that is the source of 
 all real honor and respect. Tulloch. 
 
 WHAT AM I FIT FOR ? 
 
 professions to which life invites the young 
 are of very various kinds ; and the question of 
 choice among them, as it is very important, is 
 sometimes also very trying and difficult. Rightly viewed, 
 it ought to be a question simply of capacity. What 
 am I fit for? But it is more easy in many cases to ask 
 this question than to answer it. It will certainly, how- 
 ever, facilitate an answer, to disembarrass the mind of 
 
25 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 such prejudices as we have been speaking of. The 
 field of choice is in this manner left comparatively 
 
 
 
 open. Work as such, if it be honest work, is esteemed 
 not for the adventitious associations that may surround 
 it, but because it offers an appropriate exercise for 
 such powers as we possess, and a means of self-sup- 
 port and independence. 
 
 There are those to whom the choice of a profession 
 presents comparatively few difficulties. They are 
 gifted with an aptitude for some particular calling, in 
 such a degree that they themselves and their friends 
 discern their bent from early youth, and they grow up 
 with no other desire than to betake themselves to 
 what is acknowledged to be their destiny in the world. 
 Such cases are, perhaps, the happiest of all , but they 
 are far from numerous. A special aptitude is seldom 
 so prononnced in youth. Even where it exists, it lies 
 hid many a time, and unknown even to its possessor, 
 till opportunity calls it forth. 
 
 There are other cases where the circumstances of 
 the young are such as to mark out for them, without 
 deliberation on their part, the profession which they 
 are to follow. Family traditions and social advan- 
 tages may so clearly point their way in life that they 
 never hesitate. They have never been accustomed 
 to look in any other direction, and thev take to their 
 
WHAT AM I FIT FOR? 26 
 
 lot with a happy pride, or at least a cheerful con- 
 tentment. 
 
 But the great majority of young men are not to be 
 found in either of these envied positions. They have 
 their way to make in the world; and they are neither 
 so specially gifted, on the one hand, nor so fortunately 
 circumstanced, on the other eand, as to see clearly 
 and without deliberation the direction in which they 
 should turn, and the fitting work which they should 
 give themselves. 
 
 Many things must be considered by them and for 
 them in such a case which we are not called upon to 
 discuss here which, indeed, we cannot discuss here. 
 The accidents of position, with which, after all, the 
 balance of their lot may lie, vary so indefinitely that 
 it would be impossible to indicate any clear line of 
 direction for them. But without venturing to do this, 
 it may be useful to fix the thoughts of the young upon 
 certain general features of the various classes of pro- 
 fessions that lie before them in the world open for their 
 ambition and attainment. 
 
 Professions may be generally classified as intellec- 
 tual, commercial, and mechanical, excluding those 
 which belong to the public service, such as the army 
 and navy, and the civil offices under Government. 
 These form by themselves a class of professions of 
 
27 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 great importance. But the aptitudes which they 
 require are, upon the whole, less determined, and 
 therefore less easily characterized than those which 
 the ordinary professions demand. A merchant or a 
 shoemaker, or even a clergyman, may become, should 
 circumstances summon him, a soldier or a diplomatist* 
 but neither the soldier nor diplomatist could so easily 
 assume the functions of the merchant, or shoemaker, 
 or clergyman. 
 
 Neither must it be supposed, in making this classifi- 
 cation, that the names we have used have anything 
 more than a general application warranted by the talk 
 of society, and, therefore, sufficiently intelligible. 
 There are certain callings which society has agreed to 
 consider more intellectual, more of the character of 
 professions, and others which it regards as more pecu- 
 liarly of a business or commercial character, and 
 others again that are more of the nature of a craft, or 
 handiwork. In point of fact, all are intellectual in the 
 sense of calling into exercise the intellectual powers ; 
 and it may so happen that more mental capacity may 
 be shown in conducting affairs of business, or in in- 
 venting or applying some new mechanical agency, 
 than in the discharge of the duties of the intellectual 
 professions, commonly so c.illed. This does not, how- 
 ever, affect the propriety of the classification. The 
 
WHAT AM I FIT FOR ? 28 
 
 subject-matter of the callings is nevertheless distinct. 
 Those of the first class deal more largely and directly 
 with the intellectual nature of man ; they involve a 
 more special mental training; while those of the 
 other two classes deal more with the outward indus- 
 trial activities, and are presumed not to require so pro- 
 longed or careful an intellectual education. 
 
 This obvious distinction serves to mark generally 
 the qualities that are demanded in these respective 
 orders of professions. Whether a man is to be a 
 clergyman, lawyer (using the word in its largest sense 
 as including the profession of the bar), physician or 
 a merchant, an engineer, or an ordinary tradesman, 
 should depend, in a general way at least, on the com- 
 parative vivacity and force of his intellectual powers. 
 A youth who has but little intellectual interest, who 
 cares but little or not at all for literary study and the 
 delights of scholastic ambition, is shut out by nature 
 from approach to the former professions. They are 
 not his calling in any high or even useful sense. He 
 may approach them and enter upon them, and a cer- 
 tain worldly success may even await him in them 
 under the favoring gale of circumstances ; but accord- 
 ing to any real standard of excellence or utility, 
 he has missed his proper course in life. He may 
 have found what he wanted, but others will often 
 
29 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 have failed to find in him what they were entitled to 
 expect. 
 
 The same is no less true of the Bar or legal profes- 
 sion in all its bearings and of the profession of Medi- 
 cine. Each of these professions demand a vivacious 
 intellectual interest, powers of real and independent 
 thought. Neither their principles can be grasped, nor 
 their highest applications to the well-being of society 
 appreciated, without these. All, it may be said, are 
 not required to rise so high ; there must be common as 
 well as higher workmen in all professions " hewers of 
 wood and drawers of water/' as well as men of wide 
 and commanding intelligence. And this is true. Only 
 the question remains, whether those who never rise 
 above the mechanical routine of the higher profes- 
 sions would not have been really more happy and use- 
 ful in some lower department of industry. In con- 
 templating a profession none should willingly set 
 before them the prospect of being nothing but a 
 Gideonite in it. And yet this must be the fate, and 
 deserves to be the fate, of all who rush towards work 
 for which nature has given them no special capacity. 
 By aiming beyond their power, they are likely to fall 
 short of the competency and success that, in some 
 more congenial form of work, might have awaited 
 
 I 
 
 them. 
 
WHAT AM I FIT FOR? 30 
 
 It seems so far, therefore, that there is a sufficiently 
 plain line of guidance as to the choice of a profes- 
 sion. If your interest is not in study, if your bent is 
 not intellectual, then there is one large class of pro- 
 fessions for which you are not destined. You may be 
 intellectual, highly so, and yet you may not choose 
 any of these professions; circumstances may render 
 this inadvantageous ; or, while your intellectual life is 
 inquisitive and powerful, your active ambition may be 
 no less powerful, and may carry you away. But at 
 any rate, if you have not a lively interest in intellec- 
 tual pursuits, neither the Church, nor the Bar, nor 
 Medicine is your appropriate professional sphere. 
 You can never be in any of these a " workman need- 
 ing not to be ashamed." 
 
 Nor let it be supposed that there is anything derog- 
 atory in this lack of intellectual interest in the sense 
 in which we now mean. It by no means implies intel- 
 lectual ignorance, or indisposition to knowledge, but 
 simply no predominating desire for study as a habit 
 and mode of life. It is not the book in the quiet 
 room that interests you so much as the busy ways of 
 the world, the commercial intercourse of men, or, it 
 may be, some mechanical craft to which your thoughts 
 are ever turning, and your hands inclining. How con- 
 stantly are such differences observed in boys ! Schol- 
 
31 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 astic tastes weary and stupefy some who are all alert 
 as soon as the unwelcome pressure is lifted from their 
 minds, and their energies are allowed their natural 
 play. Their aptitude is not for classic lore ; their 
 delight is not in lore at all, but in active work of some 
 kind, the interest of which is of an every-day practical 
 character. 
 
 The simple rule in such a case is follow your bent. 
 It may not show itself so particularly as in some cases 
 we have already supposed; but, at least, it is so far 
 manifest. It is clearly not in certain directions, and 
 so far, therefore, the field of your choice is limited. 
 Probe a little deeper and more carefully, and it may 
 come more plainly into view. And, remember, one 
 bent is really as honorable as another, although it may 
 not aim so high. The young merchant is just as 
 clearly "called" as the young clergyman, if he feel 
 the faculty of business stirring in him. And who seem 
 often more called than great mechanicians men often 
 with little general knowledge, and little intellectual 
 taste and sympathy, but who have a creative faculty of 
 designs, as determinate in its way as the art of the 
 painter or the poet ? 
 
 These are special cases. But in ordinary youth 
 something of the same kind may be observed. There 
 are boys designed by nature for commercial life ; there 
 
WHAT AM I FIT FOR ? 32 
 
 are others plainly designed for mechanical employ- 
 ment. Nature has stamped their destiny upon them 
 in signs which show themselves, if sought after. Let 
 not them and their friends try to countersign the seal 
 of nature. This is always a grievous harm ; a harm to 
 the individual, and a possible harm to the world. 
 
 Even where Nature's indications may be obscure, 
 there seems no other rule than to trace and follow 
 them. Some boys of healthy and well-developed 
 faculties, or, still more likely, of weak and unemphatic 
 qualities, may seem to have no particular destiny in 
 the world. Yet they have. Their place is prepared 
 for them, if they can find it. And their only hope of 
 doing so is to observe nature, and follow it. She may 
 not have written her lines broadly on their souls, but 
 she has put tracings there, which may be found and 
 followed. There are a few who may seem to find 
 their position in the world more by accident than any- 
 thing else. Circumstances determine their lot, and 
 without any thought of theirs, they seem to get into 
 the place most fitting them. Yet even in such cases, 
 circumstances are often less powerful than are sup- 
 posed, or, at least, they have wrought with nature, and 
 this unconscious conformity has proved the strongest 
 influence in fashioning such lives to prosperity and 
 success. 
 
33 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 For strong natures there is strong work ; for weak 
 and less certain natures, there is also work, but not of 
 the same kind. The back is fitted to the burden in a 
 higher sense than is sometimes meant, if only the 
 back do not overtask its powers, and assume to carry 
 weight that was never meant for it. Tulloch. 
 
 RESISTANCE TO TEMPTATION. 
 
 |HE young man, as he passes through life, ad- 
 vances through a long line of tempters 
 ranged on either side of him; and the in- 
 evitable effect of yielding is degradation in a greater 
 or less degree. Contact with them tends insensibly 
 to draw away from him some portion of the divine 
 
 electric element with which his nature is charged 
 
 } 
 
 and his only mode of resisting them is to utter and 
 to act out his '" No " manfully and resolutely. He 
 must decide at once, not waiting to deliberate and 
 balance reasons ; for the youth, like " the woman who 
 deliberates, is lost. " Many deliberate, without decid- 
 ing, but " not to resolve, is to resolve." A perfect 
 knowledge of man is in the prayer, " Lead us not into 
 temptation." But temptation will come to try the 
 young man's strength ; and once yielded to, the power 
 
RESISTANCE TO TEMPTATION. 34 
 
 to resist grows weaker and weaker. Yield once, and a 
 portion of virtue has gone. Resist manfully, and the 
 first decision will give strength for life; repeated, it will 
 become a habit. It is in the outworks of the habits 
 formed in early life that the real strength of the defence 
 must lie; for it has been wisely ordained, that the 
 machinery of moral existence should be carried on 
 principally through the medium of the habits, so as to 
 save the wear and tear of the great principles within. 
 
 
 
 It is good habits which insinuate themselves into the 
 thousand inconsiderable acts of life, that really con- 
 stitute by far the greater part of man's moral conduct. 
 Hugh Miller has told how, by an act of youthful 
 decision, he saved himself from one of the strong 
 temptations so peculiar to a life of toil. When em- 
 ployed as a mason, it was usual for his fellow-work- 
 men to have an occasional treat of drink, and one day 
 two glasses of whiskey fell to his share, which he 
 swallowed. When he reached home, he found, on 
 opening his favorite book " Bacon's Essays " that 
 the letters danced before his eyes, and that he could 
 no longer master the sense. "The condition," he says, 
 "into which I had brought myself was, I felt, one of 
 degradation. I had sunk, by my own act, for the time, 
 to a lower level of intelligence than that on which it 
 was my privilege to be placed; and though the state 
 
35 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 could have been no very favorable one for forming a 
 resolution, I in that hour determined that I should 
 never again sacrifice my capacity of intellectual en- 
 joyment to a drinking usage ; and with God's help, I 
 was enabled to hold by the determination." It is such 
 decisions as this that often form the turning-points in 
 a man's life, and furnish the foundation of his future 
 character. And this rock, on which Hugh Miller 
 might have been wrecked, if he had not at the right 
 moment put forth his moral strength to strike away 
 from it, is one that youth and manhood alike need to 
 be constantly on their guard against. It is about one 
 of the worst and most deadly, as well as extravagant, 
 temptations which lie in the way of youth. Sir Walter 
 Scott used to say " that of all vices, drinking is the 
 most incompatible with greatness." Not only so, but 
 it is incompatible with economy, decency, health, and 
 honest living. When a youth cannot restrain, he must 
 abstain. Dr. Johnson's case is the case of many. He 
 aid, referring to his own habits, " Sir, I can abstain; 
 but I can't be moderate." Smiles. 
 
 Here are Dr. Thomas Guthrie's excellent reasons 
 for becoming a total abstainer: " I have tried both 
 ways; I speak from experience. I am in good spirits 
 because I take no spirits; I am hale because I use no 
 
RESISTANCE TO TEMPTATION. 36 
 
 ale; I take no antidote in the form of drugs because I 
 take no poison in the form of drinks. Thus, though 
 in the first instance I sought only the public good, I 
 have found my own also since I became a total 
 abstainer. I have these four reasons for continuing to 
 be one: first, mv health is stronger; second, my head 
 is clearer; third, my heart is lighter; fourth, my purse 
 is heavier." 
 
 In the course of a recent address at Exeter Hall, 
 London, Mr. John B. Gough said: " I knew a man in 
 America who undertook to give up the habit of chew- 
 ing tobacco. He put his hand in his pocket, took out 
 his plug of tobacco and threw it away, saying as he 
 did so, ' That's the end of it.' But it was the begin- 
 ning of it Oh, how he did want it! He would lick 
 his lips, he would chew camomile, he would chew 
 toothpicks, quills anything to keep the jaws going. 
 No use; he suffered intensely. After enduring the 
 craving for thirty-six or forty-eight hours, he made up 
 his mind, ' Now, it's no use suffering for a bit of 
 tobacco; I will go and get some.' So he went and 
 purchased another plug, and put it in his pocket. 
 * Now,' he said, ' when I want it awfully, I'll take some.' 
 Well, he did want it awfully; and he said he believed 
 that it was God's good Spirit that was striving with 
 3 
 
37 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 him as he held the tobacco in his hand. Looking at 
 it, he said, ' I love you. But are you my master, or am 
 I yours ? You are a weed, and I am a man. You are 
 a thing, and I am a man. I'll master you, if I die for 
 it' Every time he wanted it he would take it out and 
 talk to it. It was six or eight weeks before he could 
 throw it away and feel easy ; but he said the glory of 
 the victory repaid for all his struggle." 
 
 A HIGH STANDARD NECESSARY. 
 
 UT to wrestle vigorously and successfully with 
 any vicious habit, we must not merely be 
 satisfied with contending on the low ground 
 of worldly prudence, though that is of use, but take 
 stand upon a higher moral elevation. Mechanical aids, 
 such as pledges, may be of service to some, but the 
 great thing is to set up a high standard of thinking 
 and acting, and endeavor to strengthen and purify the 
 principles, as well as to reform the habits. For this 
 purpose a youth must study himself, watch his steps, 
 and compare his thoughts and acts with his rule. 
 The more knowledge of himself he gains, the more 
 humble will he be, and perhaps the less confident in 
 his own strength. But the discipline will be found 
 
ALL HONEST INDUSTRY HONORABLE. 38 
 
 most valuable which is acquired by resisting small 
 present gratifications to secure a prospective greater 
 and higher one. It is the noblest work in self-educa- 
 tion for 
 
 " Real glory 
 
 Springs from the silent conquest of ourselves, 
 And without that the conqueror is nought 
 
 But the first slave." 
 
 Smiles. 
 
 ALL HONEST INDUSTRY HONORABLE. 
 
 'HERE is no discredit, but honor, in every right 
 walk of industry, whether it be in tilling the 
 ground, making tools, weaving fabrics, or sell- 
 ing the products behind a counter. A youth may 
 handle a yard-stick, or measure a piece of ribbon ; 
 and there will be no discredit in doing so, unless he 
 allows his mind to have no higher range than the 
 stick and ribbon ; to be as short as the one, and as 
 narrow as the other. " Let not those blush who have" 
 said Fuller, " but those who have not a lawful calling." 
 And Bishop Hall said, " Sweet is the destiny of all 
 trades, whether of the brow or of the mind." Men 
 who have raised themselves from a humble calling, 
 need not be ashamed, but rather ought to be proud 
 of the difficulties they have surmounted. The laborer 
 
39 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 on his feet stands higher than the nobleman on his 
 knees. One of our Presidents, when asked what was 
 his coat-of-arms, remembering that he had been a 
 hewer of wood in his youth, replied, " A pair of shirt- 
 sleeves." Lord Tenterden was proud to point out to 
 his son the shop in which his father had shaved for a 
 penny. A French doctor once taunted Flechier, 
 Bishop of Nismes, who had been a tallow-chandler in 
 his youth, with the meanness of his origin, to which 
 Flechier replied, " If you had been born in the same 
 condition that I was, you would still have been but a 
 maker of candles." Some small spirits, ashamed of 
 their origin, are always striving to conceal it, and by 
 the very efforts they make to do so, betray themselves; 
 like that worthy but stupid Yorkshire dyer, who, hav- 
 ing gained his money by honest chimney-sweeping, 
 and feeling ashamed of chimneys, built his house 
 without one, sending all his smoke into the shaft of his 
 dye-works. Smiles. 
 
 MONEY-MAKING. 
 
 "ANY popular books have been written for the 
 purpose of communicating to the public the 
 grand secret of making money. But there 
 is no secret whatever about it, as the proverbs of every 
 
MONEY-MAKING. 40 
 
 nation abundantly testify. " Many a little makes a 
 meikle." 
 
 " Take care of the pennies and the pounds will take 
 care of themselves." 
 
 " A penny saved is a penny gained.'* 
 " Diligence is the mother of good-luck." 
 " No pains no gains." 
 " No sweat no sweet." 
 " Sloth, the key of poverty." 
 " Work, and thou shalt have." 
 " He who will not work, neither shall he eat." 
 " The world is his, who has patience and industry." 
 " It is too late to spare when all is spent." 
 "Better go to bed supperless than rise in debt" 
 " The morning hour has gold in its mouth." 
 " Credit keeps the crown of the causeway." 
 Such are specimens of the proverbial philosophy, 
 embodying the hoarded experience of many genera- 
 tions, as to the best means of thriving in the world. 
 They were current in people's mouths long before 
 books were invented; and, like other popular proverbs, 
 they were the first codes of popular morals. More- 
 over, they have stood the test of time, and the experi- 
 ence of every day still bears witness to their accuracy, 
 force and soundness. 
 
 The proverbs of Solomon are full of wisdom, as to 
 
41 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS, 
 
 the force of industry, and the use and abuse of money: 
 " He that is slothful in work is brother to him that is a 
 great waster." " Go to the ant, thou sluggard; con- 
 sider her ways and be wise." Poverty, he says, shall 
 come upon the idler, " as one that traveleth, and want 
 as an armed man; " but of the industrious and upright, 
 " The hand of the diligent maketh rich." " He who 
 will not plough by reason of the cold, shall beg in 
 harvest, and have nothing." " The drunkard and the 
 glutton shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall 
 clothe a man with rags." " The slothful man says 
 there is a lion in the streets." " Seest thou a man 
 diligent in hfc business ? he shall stand before kings." 
 But above all " It is better to get wisdom than gold; 
 for wisdom is better than rubies, and all the things 
 that may be desired are not to be compared to it." 
 
 Simple industry and thrift will go far towards making 
 any person of ordinary working faculty comparatively 
 independent in his means. Even a working man may 
 be so, provided he will carefully husband his resources 
 and watch the little outlets of useless expenditure. 
 
 Nothing, however, is more common than energy in 
 money-making, quite independent of any higher object 
 than its accumulation. A man who devotes himself to 
 this pursuit, body and soul, can scarcely fail to become 
 rich. Very little brains will do; spend less than you 
 
MONEY-MAKING. 42 
 
 earn; add dollar to dollar; scrape and save; and the 
 pile of gold will gradually rise. John Foster quoted a 
 striking illustration of what this kind of determination 
 will do in money-making. A young man who ran 
 through his patrimony, spending it in profligacy, was 
 at length reduced to utter want and despair. He 
 rushed out of his house, intending to put an end to his 
 life, and stopped on arriving at an eminence overlook- 
 ing what were once his estates. He sat down, rumin- 
 ated for a time, and rose with the determination 
 that he would recover them. He returned to the 
 streets, saw a load of coals which had been shot out 
 of a cart on to the. pavement before a house, offered 
 to carry them in, and was employed. He thus earned 
 a few pence, requested some meat and drink as a 
 gratuity, which was given him, and the pennies were 
 laid by. Pursuing this menial labor, he earned and 
 saved more pennies; accumulated sufficient to enable 
 him to purchase some cattle, the value of which he 
 understood, and these he sold to advantage. He now 
 pursued money with a step as steady as time, and an 
 appetite as keen as death ; advancing by degrees into 
 larger and larger transactions, until at length he 
 became rich. The result was, that he more than re- 
 covered his possessions, and died an inveterate miser. 
 When he was buried, mere earth went to earth. With 
 
43 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 a nobler spirit, the same determination might have 
 enabled such a man to be a benefactor to others as 
 well as to himself. But the life and its end in this 
 case were alike sordid. Smiles. 
 
 THE LOVE OF MONEY. 
 
 saving of money for the mere sake of it, is 
 but a mean thing, even though earned by 
 honest work ; but where earned by dice- 
 throwing, or speculation, and without labor, it is still 
 worse. To provide for others, and for our own com- 
 fort and independence in old age, is honorable, and 
 greatly to be commended ; but to hoard for mere 
 wealth's sake is the characteristic of the narrow-souled 
 and the miserly. It is against the growth of this habit 
 of inordinate saving, that the wise man needs most 
 carefully to guard himself ; else, what in youth was 
 simple economy, may in old age grow into avarice, 
 and what was a duty in the one, may become a vice in 
 the other. It is the love of money not money itself 
 which is the "root of evil " a love which narrows 
 and contracts the soul, and closes it against generous 
 life and action. Hence, Sir Walter Scott makes one 
 of his characters declare that " the penny siller s4ew 
 
RICHES NO PROOF OF WORTH. 44 
 
 mair souls than the naked sword slew bodies." It is 
 one of the defects of business too exclusively followed, 
 that it insensibly tends to a mechanism of character. 
 The business man gets into a rut, and often does not 
 look beyond it. If he lives for himself only, he 
 becomes apt to regard other human beings only in so 
 far as they minister to his ends. Take a leaf from 
 such men's ledger, and you have their life. It is said 
 of one of our most eminent modern men of business 
 withal a scrupulously honorable man who spent his 
 life mainly in money-making, and succeeded, that 
 when upon his death-bed, he turned to his favorite 
 daughter, and said solemnly to her, " Hasn't it been a 
 
 mistake, ? " He had been thinking of the good 
 
 thich other men of his race had done, and which he 
 might have done, had he not unhappily found exclu- 
 sive money-making to be a mistake when it was too 
 late to remedy it. Smiles. 
 
 RICHES NO PROOF OF WORTH. 
 
 "ORLDLY success, measured by the accu- 
 mulation of money, is no doubt a very 
 dazzling thing ; and all men are naturally 
 more or less the admirers of worldly success. But 
 
45 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 though men of persevering, sharp, dexterous, and 
 unscrupulous habits, ever on the watch to push oppor- 
 tunities, may and do " get on " in the world ; yet it is 
 quite possible that they may not possess the slightest 
 elevation of character, nor a particle of real greatness. 
 He who recognizes no higher logic than that of the 
 dollar, may become a very rich man, and yet remain 
 all the while an exceedingly poor creature. For riches 
 are no proof whatever of moral worth ; and their glit- 
 ter often serves only to draw attention to the worth- 
 lessness of their possessor, as the glowworm's light 
 reveals the grub. " In morals," says Mr. Lynch, "a 
 penny may outweigh a pound may represent more 
 industry and character. The money that witnesses of 
 patient, inventive years of fair dealing and brave deal- 
 ing, proves ' worth ' indeed. But neither a man's 
 means nor his worth are' measurable by his money. If 
 he has a fat purse and a lean heart, a broad estate and 
 a narrow understanding, what will his ' means ' do for 
 him what will his ' worth ' gain him ? " Let a man 
 be what he will, it is the mind and heart that make 
 a man poor or rich, miserable or happy; for these are 
 always stronger than fortune. 
 
 The manner in which so many allow themselves to 
 be sacrificed to their love of wealth, reminds one of 
 the cupidity of the monkey that caricature of our 
 
EVILS OF SELF-INDULGENCE. 46 
 
 species. In Algiers, the Kabyle peasant attaches a 
 gourd, well fixed, to a tree, and places within it some 
 rice. The gourd has an opening merely sufficient to 
 admit the monkey's paw. The creature comes to the 
 tree by night, inserts his paw, and grasps his booty. 
 He tries to draw it back, but it is clenched, and he 
 has not the wisdom to unclench it. So there he stands 
 till morning, when he is caught, looking as foolish as 
 may be, though with the prize in his grasp. The 
 moral of this little story is capable of a very exten- 
 sive application in life. Smiles. 
 
 EVILS OF SELF-INDULGENCE. 
 
 j|TF, like Cleopatra, you had dissolved a pearl if 
 you had put together the income of years all 
 that has been spent on self-indulgence perhaps 
 in enticing others into sin could you have put it all 
 together, and, like the queenly jewel, dissipated it in 
 dust and air, we might have been sorry for the idle 
 sacrifice, but the wasted money would not have wasted 
 you. Cleopatra had another pearl, the gift of peerless 
 beauty. That gift was perverted, and it hatched a 
 serpent; it came back into her bosom the asp which 
 stung her. So with the possessions of the prodigal. 
 
47 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 Talents laid up in a napkin, pearls melted in vinegar, 
 will benefit no one; but rank, fortune, health, high 
 spirits, laid out in the service of sin, are scorpion-eggs, 
 and fostered and fully grown, the forthcoming furies 
 will seize on the conscience, and with stings of fire 
 will torment it evermore. Hamilton. 
 
 POWER OF MONEY OVER-ESTIMATED. 
 
 power of money is, on the whole, over- 
 estimated. The greatest things which have 
 been done for the world have not been accom- 
 plished by rich men, or by subscription lists, but by 
 men generally of small pecuniary means. Christian- 
 ity was propagated over half the world by men of the 
 poorest class ; and the greatest thinkers, discoverers, 
 inventors, and artists, have been men of moderate 
 wealth, many of them little raised above the condition 
 of manual laborers in point of worldly circumstances. 
 And it will always be so. Riches are oftener an im- 
 pediment than a stimulus to action ; and in many 
 cases they are quite as much a misfortune as a bless- 
 ing. The youth who inherits wealth, is apt to have 
 life made too easy for him, and he soon grows sated 
 with it, because he has nothing left to desire. Having 
 
FAILURE OF RICH MEN'S SONS. 48 
 
 no special object to struggle for, he finds time hang 
 heavy on his hands ; he remains morally and spirit- 
 ually asleep ; and his position in society is often no 
 higher than that of a polypus over which the tide 
 
 floats. 
 
 " His only labor is to* kill the time, 
 
 And labor dire it is, and weary woe. * 
 
 Yet the rich man, inspired by a right spirit, will 
 spurn idleness as unmanly ; and if he bethink him of 
 the responsibilities which attach to the possession of 
 wealth and property, he will feel even a higher call to 
 work than men of poorer lot. This, however, must 
 be admitted to be by no means the practice of life. 
 The golden mean of Agur's perfect prayer, is, perhaps, 
 the best lot of all, if we did but know it : " Give me 
 neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food con- 
 venient for me." Smiles. 
 
 FAILURE OF RICH MEN'S SONS. 
 
 'HE president of one of our largest banks said, 
 a short time ago, that a rich man's son h?d 
 just left his place, and he was the last m?n +* 
 the kind he should ever employ. The man was faith- 
 ful, honest, and fulfilled intelligently a^4 w*vll a\\ 
 
49 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 duties required of him; but just as he had become 
 accustomed to his work, he found out that it was too 
 confining, and a raw clerk had to be put in his place. 
 A bad look-out this for rich young men; but it is the 
 old story repeated for the thousandth time. If rich 
 men's sons will not endure the drudgery by which 
 nearly all their fathers secured money and position, 
 they must take a secondary place in the next genera- 
 tion; and oftener they drop out of sight amid the idle, 
 worthless herd, if, indeed they escape an association 
 with loafers and criminals. 
 
 
 
 Nearly every man in any leading position in the 
 community began life poor. Let the sons of our rich 
 men take warning and go to work honestly and faith- 
 fully every day, if they hope to fill the positions hon- 
 orably held by their fathers. 
 
 TRUE RESPECTABILITY. 
 
 'ESPECTABILITY, in its best sense, is good. 
 The respectable man is one worthy of regard, 
 literally worth turning back to look at. But 
 the respectability that consists in merely keeping up 
 appearances is not worth looking at in any sense. Far 
 better and more respectable is the good poor man 
 
TRUE RESPECTABILITY. 50 
 
 than the bad rich one better the humble silent man 
 than the agreeable, well-appointed rogue, who keeps 
 his carriage. A well-balanced and well-stored mind, 
 a life full of useful purpose, whatever the position 
 occupied in it may be is of far greater importance 
 than average worldly respectability. The highest 
 object of life we take to be, to form a manly charac- 
 ter, and to work out the best development possible, of 
 body and spirit of mind, conscience, heart and soul. 
 This is the end; all else ought to be regarded but as 
 the means. Accordingly, that is not the most success- 
 ful life in which a man gets the most pleasure, the 
 most money, the most power or place, honor or fame; 
 but that in which a man gets the most manhood, and 
 performs the greatest amount of useful work and of 
 human duty. Money is power after its sort, it is true; 
 but intelligence, public spirit, and moral virtue, are 
 powers too, and far nobler ones. " Let others plead 
 for pensions," wrote Lord Collingwood to a friend; 
 " I can be rich without money, by endeavoring to be 
 superior to everything poor. I would have my services 
 to my country unstained by any interested motive; 
 and old Scott* and I can go on in our cabbage-garden 
 without much greater expense than formerly." On 
 
 * His old gardener. Collingwood' s favorite amusement was 
 gardening. 
 
51 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 another occasion he said, " I have motives for my 
 conduct which I would not give in exchange for a 
 
 
 
 hundred pensions." 
 
 The making of a fortune may no doubt enable some 
 people to " enter society," as it is called; but to be 
 esteemed there, they must possess qualities of mind, 
 manners, or heart, else they are merely rich people, 
 nothing more. There are men " in society ' now, as 
 rich as Croesus, who have no consideration extended 
 towards them, and elicit no respect. For why? They 
 are but as money-bags, their only power is in their 
 till. The men of mark in society the guides and 
 rulers of opinion the really successful and useful 
 men are not necessarily rich men; but men of ster- 
 ling character, of disciplined experience, and of moral 
 excellence. Smiles. 
 
 LIVING TOO HIGH. 
 
 'IDDLE-CLASS people are too apt to live up 
 to their incomes, if not beyond them; affect- 
 ing a degree of " style " which is most un- 
 healthy in its effect upon society at large. There is 
 an ambition to bring up boys as gentlemen, or rather 
 " genteel " men; though the result frequently is, only 
 to make them gents. They acquire a taste for dress, 
 
APPLICATION AND PERSEVERANCE. 52 
 
 style, luxuries and amusements, which can never form 
 any solid foundation for manly or gentlemanly char- 
 acter; and the result is, that we have a vast number of 
 gingerbread young gentry thrown upon the world, who 
 remind one of the abandoned hulls sometimes picked 
 up at sea, with only a monkey on board. 
 
 We keep up appearances too often at the expense 
 of honesty; and, though we may not be rich, yet we 
 must seem to be so. We have not the courage to go 
 patiently onward in the condition of life in which it 
 has pleased God to call us; but must needs live in some 
 fashionable state to which we ridiculously please to 
 call ourselves. There is a constant struggle and pres- 
 sure for front seats in the social amphitheatre; in the 
 midst of which all noble self-denying resolve is trodden 
 down, and many fine natures are inevitably crushed to 
 death. What waste and misery this leads to we need 
 not describe. Smiles. 
 
 APPLICATION AND PERSEVERANCE. 
 
 TTHOUT application and perseverance, if 
 we rise at all, we shall to use a common 
 expression " go up like a rocket and come 
 down like a stick." Sydney Smith says: " The pre- 
 vailing idea with young people, has been the iDcom- 
 
 4 
 
53 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 patibility of labor and genius ; and therefore, from 
 the fear of being thought dull, they have thought it 
 necessary to remain ignorant. It would go very far to 
 destroy the absurd and pernicious association of genius 
 and idleness, to show that the greatest poets, orators, 
 statesmen, and historians men of the most imposing 
 and brilliant talents have actually labored as hard as 
 the makers of dictionaries and arrangers of indexes ; 
 and the most obvious reason why they have been 
 superior to other men, is, that they have taken more 
 pains than other men. 
 
 " Gibbon was in his study every morning, winter 
 and summer, at six o'clock ; Burke was the most 
 laborious and indefatigable of human beings; Leibnitz 
 was never out of his library ; Pascal killed himself by 
 study ; Cicero narrowly escaped death from the same 
 cause ; Milton was at his books with as much regular- 
 ity as a merchant or an attorney ; he had mastered all 
 the knowledge of his time ; so had Homer ; Raphael 
 lived but thirty-seven years, and in that short space 
 carried the art of painting so far beyond what it had 
 before reached, that he appears to stand alone as a 
 model to his successors." 
 
 Dalton, the chemist, always repudiated the notion of 
 his being " a genius," attributing everything which he 
 had accomplished to simple industry and accumulation. 
 
APPLICATION AND PERSEVERANCE. 54 
 
 Disraeli the elder, held that the secret of all success 
 consisted in being master of your subject, such a 
 result being only attainable through continuous appli- 
 cation and study. 
 
 Newton, when asked by what means he had worked 
 out his wonderful discoveries, modestly replied, " By 
 always thinking unto them." 
 
 A great point is to get the working quality well 
 trained. Facility comes with labor. Nothing can be 
 accomplished without it. Continuous application will 
 effect marvellous results in the commonest of things. 
 It may seem a simple thing to play upon a violin ; yet 
 what a long and laborious practice it requires! Giar- 
 dini, when asked by a youth how long it would take to 
 learn it, replied, " Twelve hours a day for twenty years 
 together." 
 
 When Taglioni, the great danseuse, was preparing 
 herself for her evening performance, she would, after 
 a severe two hours' lesson from her father, fall down 
 exhausted, and had to be undressed, spunged, and 
 resuscitated, totally unconscious. Success was attained 
 only at a price like this. Less than half of such 
 application devoted to self culture, could scarcely fail 
 in insuring success. Progress, however, as a rule, is 
 slow. Wonders cannot be achieved at once ; and we 
 must be satisfied to advance in improvement as we 
 
55 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 walk step by step. It has been said, that " to know 
 how to wait is the great secret of success." Sow first, 
 then reap ; and oftentimes we must be content to look 
 forward patiently in hope ; the fruit best worth wait- 
 ing for often ripens the slowest. " Time and patience," 
 says the Eastern proverb, " change the mulberry leaf 
 to satin." 
 
 The greatest results in life are usually attained by 
 simple means, and the exercise of ordinary qualities. 
 The common life of every day, with its cares, neces- 
 sities, and duties, affords ample opportunity for ac- 
 quiring experience of the best kind ; and its most 
 beaten paths provide the true worker with abundant 
 scope for effort and room for self-improvement. The 
 great high-road of human welfare lies along the old 
 highway of steadfast well-doing ; and they who arc 
 the most persistent, and work in the truest spirit, will 
 invariably be the most successful. 
 
 Fortune has often been blamed for her blindnes! ; 
 but fortune is not so blind as men are. Those who 
 look into practical life will find that fortune is usually 
 on the side of the industrious, as the winds and waves 
 are on the side of the best navigators. Success treads 
 on the heels of every right effort ; and though it is 
 possible to overestimate success to the extent of almost 
 
SEDULITY AND DILIGENCE. 56 
 
 deifying it, as is sometimes done, still, in any worthy 
 pursuit, it is meritorious. Nor are the qualities neces- 
 sary to insure success at all extraordinary. They may, 
 for the most part, be summed up in these two com- 
 mon sense and perseverance. Smiles. 
 
 SEDULITY AND DILIGENCE. 
 
 HERE is no such prevalent workman as sedu- 
 lity and diligence. A man would wonder at 
 the mighty things which have been done by 
 degrees and gentle augmentations. Diligence and 
 moderation are the best steps whereby to climb to any 
 excellency. Nay, it is rare if there be any other way. 
 The heavens send not down their rain in floods, but 
 by drops and dewy distillations. A man is neither 
 good, nor wise, nor rich, at once : yet softly creeping 
 up these hills, he'shall every day better his prospect ; 
 till at last he gains the top. Now he learns a virtue, 
 and then he damns a vice. An hour in a day may 
 much profit a man in his study, when he makes it stint 
 and custom. Every year something laid up, may in 
 time make a stock great. Nay, if a man does but 
 save, he shall increase ; and though when the grains 
 are scattered, they be next to nothing, yet together 
 
57 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 they wilf swell the heap. He that has the patience to 
 attend small profits, may quickly grow to thrive and 
 purchase j they be easier to accomplish, and come 
 thicker. So, he that from everything collects some- 
 what, shall in time get a treasury of wisdom. And 
 when all is done, for man, this is the best way. It is 
 for God, and for Omnipotency, to do mighty things in 
 a moment ; but, degreeingly to grow to greatness, is the 
 course that he hath left for man. fdtham. 
 
 t GOOD COUNSEL 
 
 'URN1SH yourselves with a rich variety of ideas ; 
 acquaint yourselves with things ancient and 
 modern ; things natural, civil, and religious ; 
 things domestic and national ; things of your native 
 land and of foreign countries ; things present, past, 
 and future ; and, above all, be well acquainted with 
 God and yourselves ; learn animal nature, and the 
 workings of your own spirits. 
 
 The way of attaining such an extensive treasure of 
 ideas is, with diligence to apply yourself to read the 
 best books ; converse with the most knowing and the 
 wisest of men, and endeavor to improve by every per- 
 son in whose company you are ; suffer no hour to pass 
 
GOOD COUNSEL. 58 
 
 away in a lazy idleness, in impertinent chattering, or 
 useless trifles ; visit other cities and countries when 
 you have seen your own, under the care of one who 
 can teach you to profit by traveling, and to make wise 
 observations ; indulge a just curiosity in seeing the 
 wonders of art and nature ; search into things your- 
 selves, as well as learn them from others ; be ac- 
 quainted with men as well as books ; learn all things 
 as much as you can at first hand ; and let as many of 
 your ideas as possible be the representations of 
 things, and not merely the representations of other 
 men's ideas ; thus your soul, like some noble building, 
 shall be richly furnished with original paintings, and 
 not with mere copies. 
 
 Use the most proper methods to retain that treasure of 
 ideas which you have acquired ; for the mind is ready 
 to let many of them slip, unless some pains and labor 
 be taken to fix them upon the memory. 
 
 And more especially let those ideas be laid up and 
 preserved with the greatest care, which are most 
 directly suited, either to your eternal welfare as a 
 Christian, or to your particular station and profession 
 in this life ; for though the former rule recommends 
 a universal acquaintance with things, yet it is but a 
 more general and superficial knowledge that is required 
 or expected of any man, in things which are utterly 
 
59 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 . 
 
 foreign to his own business; but it is necessary you 
 should have a more particular and accurate acquaint- 
 ance with those things that refer to your peculiar 
 province and duty in this life, or your happiness in 
 another. Watts. 
 
 COURAGE OF HOPE. 
 
 OPE is like the sun, which, as we journey 
 towards it, casts the shadow of our burden be- 
 hind us. One of the most cheerful and 
 courageous, because one of the most hopeful of 
 workers, was Carey, the missionary. When in India, 
 it was no uncommon thing for him to weary out three 
 pundits, who officiated as his clerks, in one day, he 
 himself taking rest only in change of employment 
 Carey, himself the son of a shoemaker, was supported 
 in his labors by Ward, the son of a carpenter, and 
 Marshman, the son of a weaver. By their labors, a 
 magnificent college was erected at Serampere; sixteen 
 flourishing stations were established; the Bible was 
 translated into sixteen languages, and the seeds were 
 sown of a beneficent moral revolution in British India. 
 Carey was never ashamed of the humbleness of his 
 origin. On one occasion when at the Governor- 
 General's table, he overheard an officer opposite him 
 
CHOOSE GOOD COMPANIONS. 60 
 
 asking another loud enough to be heard, whether 
 Carey had once been a shoemaker. " No, sir," ex- 
 claimed Carey immediately, " only a cobbler." 
 
 But to wait patiently, men must labor cheerfully. 
 Cheerfulness and diligence are the life and soul of 
 success, as well as happiness ; perhaps the very highest 
 pleasure in life consisting in conscientious, brisk, hard 
 working energy, confidence, and every other good 
 quality mainly depending upon it. 
 
 Laborers for the public good, especially, have to 
 work long and patiently, often uncheered by the pros- 
 pect of immediate recompense or result. The seeds 
 they sow often lie hidden under the winter's snow, 
 and before the spring comes, the husbandman may 
 have gone to his rest. 
 
 CHOOSE GOOD COMPANIONS. 
 
 'WO are better than one, and you will find it 
 both protection and incentive if you can 
 secure a faithful friend; and in some respects 
 better than two are the many; therefore you cannot do 
 more wisely than seek out in the Young Men's Society 
 a wider companionship; and whilst instructed by the 
 information of some, and strengthened by the firmer 
 faith or larger experience of others, there are import 
 
61 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 ant themes on which you will learn to think with pre- 
 cision, and in the exercise of public speaking you will 
 either acquire a useful talent or will turn it to good 
 account. Hamilton. 
 
 LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 TDNEY SMITH, writing on this subject, uses 
 the following language : " I solemnly declare, 
 that but for the love of knowledge, I should 
 consider the life of the meanest hedger and ditcher as 
 preferable to that of the greatest and richest man in 
 existence ; for the fire of our minds is like the fires 
 which the Persians burn in the mountains, it flames 
 night and day, and is immortal, and not to be 
 quenched ! Upon something it must act and feed 
 upon the pure spirit of knowledge, or upon the foul 
 dregs of polluting passions. Therefore, when I say, 
 in conducting your understanding, love knowledge 
 with a great love, with a vehement love, with a love 
 co-eval with life what do I say but love innocence, 
 love virtue, love purity of conduct, love that which, 
 if you are rich and great, will vindicate the blind 
 fortune which has made you so, and make men call it 
 justice ; love that which, if you are poor, will render 
 your poverty respectable, and make the proudest feel 
 
LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE. 62 
 
 it unjust to laugh at the meanness of your fortunes ; 
 love that which will comfort you, adorn you, and 
 never quit you which will open to you the kingdom 
 of thought, and all the boundless regions of concep- 
 tion, as an asylum against the cruelty, the injustice, 
 and the pain that may be your lot in the world that 
 which will make your motives habitually great and 
 honorable, and light up in an instant a thousand noble 
 disdains at the very thought of meanness and of 
 fraud. 
 
 " Therefore, if any young man has embarked his 
 life in pursuit of knowledge, let him go in without 
 doubting or fearing the event, let him not be intimi- 
 dated by the cheerless beginnings of knowledge, by 
 the darkness from which she springs, by the difficulties 
 which hover around her, by the wretched habitations 
 in which she dwells, by the want and sorrow which 
 sometimes journey in her train ; but let him ever fol- 
 low her as the angel that guards him, and as the 
 genius of his life, she will bring him out at last into 
 the light of day, and exhibit him to the world com- 
 prehensive in acquirements, fertile in resources, rich 
 in imagination, strong in reasoning, prudent and 
 powerful above his fellows in all the relations and in 
 all the offices of life." 
 
 Different people love different kinds of knowledge j 
 
63 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 but there are some who would like to excel in every- 
 thing good. The mistake of many is in their trying 
 to acquire knowledge which they do not love in let- 
 ting their ambition to excel overmaster them and the 
 result is that there are large numbers of half educated 
 people in the world who are like the child and the 
 apples. A gentleman bought a lot of apples, and 
 offered one to a little child. It was pleased, and took 
 it eagerly. He then offered it another, which it also 
 grasped. He kept giving it the apples one after 
 another, the child reaching for them just as fast as he 
 offered them, until at last its little arms were full, and 
 in reaching for the last one, all the others rolled on 
 the ground. Then it cried. It had tried to grasp 
 r\ore than it could hold. 
 
 SELF-DENIAL 
 
 Y]J|THE lesson of self-denial is far beyond any other 
 in importance. It must be repeated a thou- 
 sand times over before it is really learnt by 
 tieart, but oh, how worthy the pains! Happy is he 
 who has learnt not to seek for what is pleasant, not to 
 shrink from what is painful, but to go on doing every- 
 thing that he knows to be good, and kind, and right, 
 
IDLENESS NOT HAPPINESS. 64 
 
 
 
 in utter disregard of self. How a man might ennoble 
 and invigorate his life if he would work this principle 
 into the very grain of his mind, and strenuously act 
 upon it, invariably striving not after what would be 
 pleasantest ; but what would be best. In fact, it is the 
 very essence of all that is good and great in human 
 life ; and not only so, but it is the true road to happi- 
 ness. This is doubtless what our Saviour means when 
 he says that he that hath left home and brethren for 
 his sake shall receive an hundred fold even in his life. 
 Charles Buxton. 
 
 IDLENESS NOT HAPPINESS. 
 
 most common error of men and women is 
 that of looking for happiness somewhere out- 
 side of useful work. It has never yet been 
 found when thus sought, and never will be while the 
 world stands ; and the sooner this truth is learned the 
 better for everyone. If you doubt the proposition, 
 glance around among your friends and acquaintances, 
 and select those who appear to have the most enjoy- 
 ment in life. Are they the idlers and pleasure-seekers, 
 or the earnest workers ? We know what your answer 
 will be. Of all the miserable human beings it has 
 been our fortune or misfortune to know, they were the 
 
65 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 most wretched who had retired from useful employ- 
 ment to enjoy themselves ; while the slave at his 
 enforced labor, or the hungry toiler for bread, were 
 supremely happy in comparison. 
 
 PROCRASTINATION. 
 
 'RS. WHITNEY says, in one of her books, 
 that " the things which are crowded out of a 
 life are the test of that life," and we believe 
 that the saying is true in its widest sense. Examine 
 our lives closely, and we shall find that we constantly 
 delude ourselves with the idea that we would accom- 
 plish certain things if we had time, when, in truth, 
 we have no real desire for those things. One person 
 will say that reading is out of the question ; another 
 will bewail the impossibility of maintaining social 
 relations ; a third will avow that charitable or benevo- 
 lent enterprises would delight her if she might engage 
 in them ; and all the time these good people are com- 
 forting themselves with a fallacy. The things for which 
 they do find time are the things they prefer. The 
 things which are crowded out are the things they 
 would not choose if life lay unemployed before them. 
 Scores of wives and mothers are busied constantly 
 
VALUE OF TIME. 66 
 
 with their family cares, but not one in every score 
 loves music enough to steal time for practice. Hun- 
 dreds of young men are forced by stress of circum- 
 stances to work hard for daily subsistence, but only 
 one in a thousand, perhaps, conquers the difficulty of 
 his position, and makes a name for himself. This one 
 might not have found his way easier or its upward 
 steps less tiresome, but he wanted to succeed, and so 
 wanting, let nothing needful be crowded out. 
 
 VALUE OF TIME. 
 
 "OHN LOCKE, the English philosopher, was a 
 favorite with many of the great noblemen of 
 his age. They liked his robust sense and ready 
 wit, and enjoyed even the sharp reproofs in which he 
 occasionally indulged. On one occasion he had been 
 invited to meet a select party at Lord Ashley's. When 
 he came they were playing at cards, and continued 
 absorbed in the game for two or three hours. 
 
 For some time Locke looked on, and then began 
 to write diligently in a blank book taken from his 
 pocket. At length they asked him what he was writ- 
 ing. He answered : 
 
 " My lords, I am improving myself the best I can 
 
67 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 in your company; for, having impatiently waited this 
 honor of being present at such a meeting of the wise 
 men and great wits of the age, I thought I could not 
 do better than write down your conversation, and here 
 I have in substance all that has* passed for this hour 
 or two." 
 
 The noble lords were so ashamed at the written 
 record of their frivolous talk, that they at once stopped 
 card-playing, and began the discussion of an import- 
 ant subject. 
 
 Thomas Carlyle has uttered even a more pungent 
 reproof of idle talk : " If we can permit God Al- 
 mighty," he says, " to write down our conversation, 
 thinking it good enough for him, any poor Boswell 
 need not scruple to work his will." 
 
 VALUE OF ODD MOMENTS. 
 
 BURRITT, the learned blacksmith, says: 
 " All that I have accomplished, or expect, 
 or hope to accomplish, has been and will 
 be by that plodding, patient, persevering process 
 of accretion which builds the ant-heap, particle by 
 particle, thought by thought, fact by fact. If I was 
 
BEHIND TIME. 68 
 
 ever actuated by ambition, its highest and warmest 
 aspiration reached no further than the hope to set 
 before the young men of my country an example in 
 employing those invaluable fragments of time called 
 odd moments 1 " 
 
 BEHIND TIME. 
 
 RAILROAD TRAIN was rushing along at 
 almost lightning speed. A curve was just 
 ahead, beyond which was a station at which 
 the cars usually passed each other. The conductor 
 was late, so late that the period during which the down 
 train was to wait had nearly elapsed, but he hoped yet 
 to pass the curve safely. Suddenly a locomotive 
 dashed into sight right ahead. In an instant there 
 was a collision. A shriek, a shock, and fifty souls 
 were in eternity; and all because a conductor had been 
 behind time. 
 
 A great battle was going on. Column after column 
 had been precipitated for eight mortal hours on the 
 enemy posted along the ridge of a hill. The summer 
 sun was sinking to the west, reinforcements for the 
 obstinate defenders were already in sight; it was 
 necessary to carry the position with one final charge, 
 or everything would be 
 5 
 
69 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 A powerful corps had been summoned from across 
 the country, and if it came up in season, all would yet 
 be well. The great conqueror, confident in its arrival, 
 formed his reserve into an attacking column, and 
 ordered them to charge the enemy. The whole world 
 knows the result. Grouchy* failed to appear; the im- 
 perial guard was beaten back; Waterloo was lost. 
 Napoleon died a prisoner at St. Helena, because one 
 of his marshals was behind time. 
 
 A leading firm in commercial circles had long 
 struggled against bankruptcy. As it had enormous 
 assets in California, it expected remittances by a cer- 
 tain day, and if the sums promised arrived, its credit, 
 its honor, and its future prosperity would be preserved. 
 But week after week elapsed without bringing the gold. 
 At last came the fatal day on which the firm had bills 
 maturing to enormous amounts. The steamer was 
 telegraphed at daybreak ; but it was found, on inquiry, 
 that she brought no funds, and the house failed. The 
 next arrival brought nearly half a million to the in- 
 solvents, but it was too late; they were ruined because 
 their agent, in remitting, had been behind time. 
 
 * Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of France, was defeated by 
 the allies under the Duke of Wellington, at Waterloo, June 18, 
 1815. Marshal Grouchy was expected to aid the Emperor with a 
 body of troops, but failed to appear. 
 
BEHIND TIME. 70 
 
 I 
 A condemned man was led out for execution. He 
 
 had taken human life, but under circumstances of the 
 greatest provocation, and public sympathy was active 
 in his behalf. Thousands had signed the petition for 
 a reprieve; a favorable answer had been expected the 
 night before, and though it had not come, even the 
 sheriff felt confident that it would yet arrive in season. 
 Thus the morning passed without the appearance of 
 the messenger. The last moment was up. The pri- 
 soner took his place in the drop, the cap was drawn 
 over his eyes, the bolt was drawn, and a lifeless body 
 swung revolving in the wind. Just at that moment a 
 horseman came into sight, galloping down hill, his 
 steed covered with foam. He carried a packet in his 
 right hand, which he waved rapidly to the crowd. He 
 was the express rider with the reprieve. But he had 
 come too late. A comparatively innocent man had 
 died an ignominious death because a watch had been 
 five minutes too slow, making its bearer arrive behind 
 time. 
 
 It is continually so in life. The best laid plans, the 
 most important affairs, the fortunes of individuals, the 
 weal of nations, honor, happiness, life itself, are daily 
 sacrificed because somebody is " behind time." There 
 are others who put off reformation year by year, till 
 death seizes them, and they perish unrepentant, 
 
71 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 because forever "behind time." Five minutes in a 
 crisis is worth years. It is but a little period, yet it 
 has often saved a fortune or redeemed a people. If 
 there is one virtue that should be cultivated more than 
 another by him who would succeed in life, it is punc- 
 tuality; if there is one error that should be avoided, it 
 is being behind time. Freeman Hunt. 
 
 ONE BY ONE. 
 
 One by one the sands are flowing, 
 One by one the moments fall; 
 
 Some are coming, some are going; 
 Do not strive to catch them all. 
 
 One by one thy duties wait thee; 
 
 Let thy whole strength go to each; 
 Let no future dreams elate thee; 
 
 Learn thou first what these can teach 
 
 One by one (bright gifts from heaven) 
 Joys are sent thee here below; 
 
 Take them readily when given 
 Ready, too, to let them go. 
 
 One by one thy griefs shall meet thee; 
 
 Do not fear an armed band; 
 One will fade as others greet thee 
 
 Shadows passing through the land. 
 
LEARNING IN YOUTH. 72 
 
 Do not laugh at life's long sorrow; 
 
 See how small each moment's pain: 
 God will help thee for to-morrow; 
 
 Every day begin again. 
 
 Every hour, that fleets so slowly, 
 
 Has its task to do or bear; 
 Luminous the crown, and holy, 
 
 If thou set each gem with care, 
 
 Hours are golden links God's token 
 
 Reaching heaven; but one by one, 
 Take them, lest the chain be broken 
 
 Ere thy pilgrimage be done, 
 
 Miss PROCTOR. 
 
 LEARNING IN YOUTH. 
 
 'ANIEL WEBSTER once told a good story in 
 a speech, and was asked where he got it. " I 
 have had it laid up in my head for fourteen 
 years, and never had a chance to use it until to-day," 
 said he. 
 
 My little friend wants to know what good it will do 
 to learn the " rule of three," or to commit a verse of 
 the Bible. The answer is this : " Sometime you will 
 need that very thing. Perhaps it may be twenty years 
 before you can make it fit in just the right place ; but 
 
73 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 it will be just in place sometime. Then, if you don't 
 have it, you will be like the hunter who had no ball in 
 his rifle when a bear met him. 
 
 " Twenty-five years ago my teacher made me study 
 surveying," said a man who had lately lost his prop- 
 erty, " and now I am glad of it. It is just in place. 
 I can get a good situation and high salary." 
 
 THE POWER OF KINDNESS. 
 
 'URING the days of the French convention, 
 Penel, the master of the lunatic asylum, de- 
 sired permission to employ a new method for 
 the recovery of its inmates. It was usual then to treat 
 these helpless creatures as brutes ; to scourge them 
 with stripes, to load them with chains, and fasten them 
 securely to the floors of their cells. Hundreds were 
 thus bound when Penel bethought him of a more ex- 
 cellent way. He proposed to the convention a radical 
 change of treatment ; especially he recommended that 
 the insane be treated as patients, and be freed from 
 their chains. While the convention yielded its con- 
 .sent, the president, M. Caithon, regarded the keeper 
 as crazy. The day came for the experiment to be 
 made, and the keeper released, first of all, a wretched 
 
LET BYGONES BE BYGONES. 74 
 
 man who had been bound for forty years. This victiiu 
 of ignorant cruelty did not destroy his benefactor, as 
 Caithon had expected, but quietly staggered to the 
 window of his cell, and, looking out through the tears 
 that filled his eyes, on the placid sky, gently mur- 
 mured, " Beautiful, oh ! how beautiful ! " 
 
 Shall human kindness have such power to subdue 
 and to rekindle the dying flame of reason, and heavenly 
 grace be impotent to soften the hard heart and to be- 
 get the life of righteousness ? No. I am persuaded 
 when grace enters the dark prison-house of sin, and is 
 permitted to break the fetters of iniquity, the freed 
 soul, amazed at the matchless clemency, will not 
 merely cry " Beautiful, beautiful," but, by the " beauty 
 of holiness " clothing thought and deed, will show 
 forth its increasing gratitude, love and praise. Rev. 
 George C. Lorimer, D. D. 
 
 LET BYGONES BE BYGONES. 
 
 ET bygones be bygones; if bygones were clouded 
 
 By aught that occasioned a pang of regret, 
 O, let them in darkest oblivion be shrouded: 
 'Tis wise and 'tis kind to forgive and forget. 
 
 Let bygones be bygones, and good be extracted 
 From ill, over which it is folly to fret; 
 
75 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 The wisest of mortals have foolishly acted 
 The kindest are those who forgive and forget. 
 
 Let bygones be bygones; O cherish no longer 
 The thought that the sun of affection has set; 
 
 Eclipsed for a moment, its rays will be stronger 
 If you, like a Christian, forgive and forget. 
 
 Let bygones be bygones, your heart will be lighter 
 When kindness of yours with reception has met; 
 
 The flame of your heart will be purer and brighter 
 If, God-like, you strive to forgive and forget. 
 
 Let bygones be bygones; O, purge out the leaven 
 
 Of malice, and try an example to set 
 To others, who, craving the mercy of heaven, 
 
 Are sadly too slow to forgive and forget. 
 
 Let bygones be bygones; remember how deeply 
 To heaven's forbearance we all are in debt 1 
 
 They value God's infinite goodness too cheaply 
 To heed not the precept, " Forgive and Forget." 
 
 CHAMBER'S JOURNAL, 
 
 THOUGHTLESSNESS OF YOUTH. 
 
 I general, I have no patience with people who 
 talk about the " thoughtlessness of youth," in- 
 dulgently. I had infinitely rather hear of 
 thoughtless old age, and the indulgence due to that. 
 
WASHINGTON ON SWEARING. 76 
 
 When a man has done his work, and nothing can in 
 any way be materially altered in his fate, let him for- 
 get his toil and jest with his fate, if he will; but what 
 excuse can you find for willfulness of thought, at the 
 very time when every crisis of future fortune hangs on 
 your decisions? A youth thoughtless! when all the 
 happiness of his home forever depends on the chances, 
 or the passions of an hour! A youth thoughtless! 
 when his every act is a foundation stone of future con- 
 duct, and every imagination a fountain of life or 
 death! Be thoughtless in any after years, rather than 
 now though indeed there is only one place where a 
 man may be nobly thoughtless his death-bed. No 
 thinking should ever be left to be done there. Ruskin. 
 
 WASHINGTON ON SWEARING. 
 
 'N the 2gth of July, 1779, one hundred year s 
 ago, General Washington issued a special 
 order, at West Point, in reference to the prac- 
 tice of profanity: 
 
 " Many and pointed orders have been issued against 
 that unmeaning and abominable custom of swearing, 
 notwithstanding which, with much regret, the Geneial 
 observes that it prevails, if possible, more than ever ; 
 
77 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 nis feelings are continually wounded by the oaths and 
 imprecations of the soldiers whenever he is in hearing 
 of them. 
 
 "The name of that Being from whose bountiful 
 goodness we are permitted to exist and enjoy the com- 
 forts of life, is incessantly imprecated and profaned 
 in a manner as wanton as it is shocking. For the 
 sake, therefore, of religion, decency and order, the 
 General hopes and trusts that officers of every rank 
 will use their influence and authority to check a vice 
 which is as unprofitable as wicked and shameful. 
 
 " If officers would make it an unavoidable rule to 
 reprimand, and, if that does not do, punish soldiers 
 for offences of this kind, it could not fail of having 
 the desired effect." 
 
 BEWARE OF LITTLE SINS. 
 
 "T is a solemn thought this of the steady continu- 
 ous aggravation of sin in the individual charac- 
 ter. Surely nothing can be small which goes to 
 make up that rapidly growing total. Beware of the 
 little beginnings which " eat as doth a canker." Be- 
 ware of the slightest deflection from the straight line 
 of right. If there be two lines, one straight and the 
 other going off at the sharpest angle, you have only to 
 
CONSCIENTIOUSNESS IN SMALL THINGS. 78 
 
 produce both far enough, and there will be room 
 between them for all the space that separates hell from 
 heaven! Beware of lading your souls with the weight 
 of small single sins. We heap upon ourselves by 
 slow, steady accretion through a lifetime the weight, 
 that though it is gathered by grains, crushes the soul. 
 There is nothing heavier than sand. You may lift it 
 by particles. It drifts in atoms, but heaped upon a 
 man it will break his bones, and blown over the land 
 it buries pyramid and sphynx, the temples of gods and 
 the homes of men beneath its barren, solid waves. 
 The leprosy gnaws the flesh off a man's bones, and 
 joints and limbs drop off he is a living death. So 
 with every soul that is under the dominion of these 
 lying desires it is slowly rotting away piecemeal, 
 " waxing corrupt according to the lusts of deceit." 
 
 CONSCIENTIOUSNESS IN SMALL 
 
 THINGS. 
 
 WOMAN employed a man to paint a house 
 she had just built. The painter was a mem- 
 ber of a Christian church, active in the 
 prayer-meeting and in church work, and apparently a 
 man of exemplary piety. His work was seemingly 
 
79 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 well done, but it was afterwards discovered that he had 
 slighted his work in places where he thought the 
 neglect would not be noticed. His employer re- 
 marked : " I have discounted that man's piety and 
 prayers ever since. I prefer Christians who will fill 
 up the nail holes with putty, and paint the tops of the 
 doors in the upper story." " It has often seemed to 
 us," says the Examiner, " that this man was not an 
 exceptional case. How many professed Christians 
 fail to realize that piety has a connection with paint 
 and putty that the little things of life are the truest, 
 as they are the severest tests of Christian character. 
 Anyone who has to employ others to do work for him 
 knows how rare it is to find a man or woman who is 
 conscientious about small things; who never ' scamps ' 
 his work, and never wastes his employer's time or 
 stock." The Examiner adds : 
 
 " The cultivation of a greater conscientiousness 
 with regard to the little things of everyday life, which 
 are commonly considered to have no bearing on piety, 
 is one of the almost universal needs, even among 
 Christian people. The painter Opie replied to a 
 query as to how he mixed his colors, f With brains, 
 sir.' The best type of Christian character must be 
 that of the man who mixes his daily work with con- 
 science, and strives to do everything, even the most 
 
EFFECTS OF WORRY. 80 
 
 4 
 
 insignificant, as unto the Lord. Until this shall be the 
 standard of everyday Christian living, there must be 
 a great deal done in the way of discounting piety and 
 prayers. ' ' Christian Union. 
 
 EFFECTS OF WORRY, 
 
 'ORRYING is one of the great drawbacks to 
 happiness. Most of it can be avoided if 
 we only determine not to let trifles annoy 
 us; for the largest amount of worrying is caused by 
 the smallest trifles. 
 
 A writer in Chambers' Journal says : " That the 
 effects of worry are more to. be dreaded than those of 
 simple hard work, is evident from noting the class of 
 persons who suffer most from the effects of overstrain. 
 The case-book of the physician shows that it is the 
 speculator, the betting man, the railway manager, the 
 great merchant, the superintendent of large manufac- 
 turing or commercial works, who most frequently ex- 
 hibit the symptoms of cerebral exhaustion. Mental 
 cases accompanied by suppressed emotion, occupa- 
 tions liable to great vicissitudes of fortune, and those 
 which involve the bearing on the mind of a multiplicity 
 of intricate details, eventually break down the lives <f 
 
81 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 the strongest. In estimating what may be called the 
 staying powers of different minds under hard work, it 
 is always necessary to take early training into account. 
 A young man, cast suddenly into a position involving 
 great care and responsibility, will break down; whereas, 
 had he been gradually habituated to this position, he 
 would have performed its duties without difficulty. It 
 is probably for this reason that the professional classes 
 generally surfer less from the effects of overstrain than 
 others. They have had a long course of preliminary 
 training, and their work comes on them by degrees ; 
 therefore, when it does come in excessive quantity, it 
 finds them prepared for it. Those, on the other hand, 
 who suddenly vault into a position requiring severe 
 mental toil, generally die before their time." 
 
 KEEP YOUR TEMPER. 
 
 f OU will accomplish nothing by losing it. Many 
 
 men date their failure in business to some 
 hasty and ill-considered statement made during 
 a fit of temper. When things go awry, business is 
 dull, and the prospect is dark ahead, it is very poor 
 consolation to indulge in passionate and angry remarks 
 to those with whom you are associated. The frown 
 
TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. 82 
 
 on a man's face is a good indication of the state of the 
 feelings within. The world judges men by their out- 
 ward conduct and behavior, and ill-natured, cross- 
 grained men rarely become successful. 
 
 Solomon says : " He that is slow to anger is better 
 than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his spirit than he 
 that taketh a city ; " " Seest thou a man that is hasty 
 in his words ? there is more hope of a fool than of 
 him." Difficulties disappear when met calmly and 
 resolutely ; they increase with ill-nature and anger. 
 Keep your temper. 
 
 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. 
 
 'HE abuse which you pour forth on me will 
 throw no light on our controversy, and the 
 menaces with which you assail me will not 
 hinder me from defending myself. You think that 
 you have force and impunity on your side; but on 
 mine I think that I have truth and innocence. A 
 strange and long warfare it is, when violence endeav- 
 ors to oppress truth. All the efforts of violence can 
 avail nothing to weaken truth, and serve only to make 
 it supreme. All the light of truth can avail nothing to 
 arrest violence, and only provokes it the more. When 
 force combats force, the stronger destroys the weaker; 
 
83 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 when arguments are opposed to arguments, the truer 
 and more convincing confound and scatter those 
 which rest only on vanity and falsehood; but violence 
 and truth are powerless against each other. Yet think 
 not that they are therefore on a level. Between them 
 is this absolute difference, that the course of violence 
 is limited by the decree of God, who compels it to 
 promote the glory of the truth which it attacks; while 
 truth subsists eternally, and finally triumphs over its 
 enemies, because it is eternal and strong even as God 
 himself. Pascal. 
 
 Truth is the most powerful thing in the world, since 
 fiction can only please us by its resemblance to it. 
 Shaftesbury. 
 
 Truth is its own evidence, as the lightning flash is, 
 as the blessed sunshine is. F. W. Robertson. 
 
 CHARACTERS. 
 
 M T OOKING over all the varieties of character with 
 
 LJOI I 
 
 jL a view to classification, we find that some are 
 
 the result mainly of conditions that are phys- 
 ical. Mere temperament often determines the whole 
 complexion of a life, explaining the characteristic dif- 
 
CHARACTERS. 84 
 
 ferences between some men and others. One man, 
 owing purely to physical conditions, is morbid and 
 melancholy. He sees everything under a cloud. He 
 looks naturally at the dark side of things. If you take 
 him to the bright side, he brings a shadow with him 
 and makes this side as gloomy as the other. Another 
 man, blessed with a sanguine temperament, has a 
 fountain of cheerfulness and hope within him. He 
 looks naturally at the bright side; brightens even the 
 dark side, when he comes round to it, by his own sun- 
 shine. Whatever is naturally pleasant he rejoices in. 
 He is a child of the light. Even if a disaster occur, 
 he is glad that it is no worse. The Dutchman who 
 fell from the ladder and broke his leg, and expressed 
 to his distracted family his delight that it was not his 
 neck, must have been a man of this type. Mr. 
 Sanguine to every cloud sees a silver lining. If you 
 consult him in misfortune, he says: "You will soon get 
 over it. I'll tell you what to do." 
 
 The gloomy man, on the other hand, says: "I told 
 you it would come to this," and shakes his head por- 
 tentously, as if he were satisfied that this is only the 
 beginning of your troubles. To Mr. Croaker even 
 pleasure is poisoned by the thought of how soon it 
 may be taken away. If he finds you particularly 
 jovial, it reminds him of a former occasion, on which 
 6 
 
85 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 just such merriment was interrupted by some fearful 
 intelligence. He hopes, with a portentous look, that 
 it may not be so this time again. 
 
 Mr. Croaker is peculiarly appropriate at a funeral; 
 but woe betide the picnic or wedding party to which, 
 in a moment of infatuation, he has been invited. The 
 only hope lies in Mr. Sanguine being there also. Mr. 
 Sanguine is always a refuge and wall of defense, whom 
 you should take care to have with you in embarrassing 
 circumstances or when called on to pass through some 
 ordeal like that of having to inspect and give your 
 verdict upon your friend's first baby. If you are sensi- 
 tive, like some folk, you will find that a stiff trial. You 
 go to the inspection aware, of course, that both father 
 and mother regard this baby as one of the finest that 
 has ever been born, and that they have been fortified 
 in this conviction by the doctor. Now, if it should 
 tnrn out to be an ugly little imp, what are you to say ? 
 How are you to look ?. Have Mr. Sanguine with you ? 
 Mr. Sanguine will see something to admire in any 
 baby that ever was born. If it is one of those lively 
 infants that seem all on springs, Mr. Sanguine will 
 cry : " What a fine fellow ! What life ! What energy ! " 
 If it be one of those dull, torpid lumps of humanity 
 that glare straight forward with a fishy glare, gorgon- 
 izing you from head to foot, Mr. Sanguine will exclaim, 
 
CHARACTERS. 86 
 
 " What a thoughtful child ! What steadiness ! What 
 brain ! " If the child had been born with a leg on the 
 top of its head, Mr. Sanguine would instantly have 
 been struck with the advantage this would give it, in 
 the event of it tumbling wrong end down. Rev. Davia 
 Macrae. 
 
 Character has many ways of manifesting itself', and 
 those may be in the right who regard a man's chirog- 
 raphy as one of these. Shelley, in one of his letters, 
 passes judgment upon two of his brother poets, with 
 this sort of testimony in view, as follows : " The hand- 
 writing of Ariosto is a small, firm, and pointed char- 
 acter, expressing, as I should say, a strong and keen, 
 but circumscribed energy of mind ; that of Tasso is 
 large, free and flowing, except that there is a checked 
 expression in the midst of its flow, which brings the 
 letters into a smaller compass than one expected from 
 the beginning of the word. It is the symbol of an 
 intense and earnest mind, exceeding at times its own 
 depths, and admonished to return by the chilliness of 
 the waters of oblivion striking upon its adventurous 
 feet." It may be well for us all to remember that 
 there are more open doors than we may imagine, 
 through which scrutinizing eyes look in upon the 
 secret places of our character. 
 
87 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 Men seek retreats for themselves houses in the 
 country, sea-shores, and mountains; and thou, too, art 
 wont to desire such things very much. But this is 
 altogether a work of the most common men ; for it is 
 in thy power, whenever thou shalt choose, to retire into 
 thyself. For nowhere, either with more quiet or more 
 freedom from trouble, does a man retire than into his 
 own soul, particularly when he has within him such 
 thoughts, that by looking into them he is immediately 
 in perfect tranquility. And I affirm that tranquility is 
 nothing else than the good ordering of the mind. 
 " Thoughts " of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. 
 
 We are all sculptors and painters, and our material 
 is our own flesh, and blood, and bones. Any noble- 
 ness begins at once to refine a man's features ; any 
 meanness or sensuality, to imbrute them. Thoreau. 
 
 As a storm following storm, and wave succeeding 
 wave, give additional hardness to the shell that incloses 
 the pearl, so do the storms and waves of life add force 
 to the character of man. 
 
 Feelings come and go like light troops following the 
 victory of the present; but principles, like troops of 
 the line, are undisturbed and stand fast. Richter 
 
CHARACTERS. 88 
 
 What a grand power is the power of thought ! And 
 what a grand being is man when he uses it aright ; 
 because, after all, it is the use made of it that is the 
 important thing. Character comes out of thought ; or 
 rather thought comes out of character. The particular 
 thoughts are like the blossoms on the trees ; they tell 
 of what kind it is. " As a man thinketh in his heart, 
 so he is." Sir W. Raleigh. 
 
 A soul immortal, spending all her fires, 
 
 Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, 
 
 Thrown into tumult, raptured, or alarmed, 
 
 At aught this scene can threaten or indulge 
 
 Resembles ocean into tempest wrought 
 
 To waft a feather, or to drown a fly. YOUNG, 
 
 The heart will commonly govern the head; and it 
 is certain that any strong passion, set the wrong way, 
 will soon infatuate even the wisest of men ; therefore 
 the first part of wisdom is to watch the affections. 
 Dr. Waterland. 
 
 Modesty is to worth what shadows are in a painting ; 
 she gives to it strength and relief. La Bruucre. 
 
 Actions, looks, words, steps, form the alphabet by 
 which you may spell character. 
 
89 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 Every man stamps his value on himself. The price 
 we challenge for ourselves is given us. There does 
 not live on earth a man, be his station what it may, 
 that I despise myself. Man is made great or little by 
 his own will. Schiller. 
 
 No man has come to true greatness who has not felt 
 in some degree that his life belongs to his race, and 
 what God gives him he gives him for mankind. 
 Phillips Brooks. 
 
 Character is like bells which ring out sweet music, 
 and which, when touched accidentally even, resound 
 sweetly. 
 
 Men seldom improve when they have no other 
 models than themselves to copy after. Goldsmith. 
 
 You can not dream yourself into a character ; you 
 must hammer and forge yourself one. Froudc. 
 
 Never does a man portray his own character more 
 vividly than in his manner of portraying another's. 
 
 The key to every man is his thought. Casual 
 thoughts are sometimes of great value. 
 
CHARACTERS. 90 
 
 People that have their eyes opened will, at the very 
 least, get their clothes washed. A neat, decent dress 
 is often an early sign that a man is becoming careful 
 who has hitherto been reckless ; and new talk, new 
 tempers, new estimates of things, are garments of the 
 spiritual man, that show he has become a new man. 
 
 Christianity means to the merchant that he should 
 be honest ; to the judge it means that he should be 
 just ; to the servant, that he should be faithful ; to the 
 school-boy, that he should be diligent ; to the street- 
 sweeper, that he should sweep clean ; to every worker, 
 that his work shall be well done. 
 
 Conscience is the voice of the soul; the passions 
 are the voice of the body. J. J. Rousseau. 
 
 
 
 Manner is one of the greatest engines of influence 
 ever given to man. Sunday Afternoon. 
 
 Flattery is a false coin which has circulation only 
 through our vanity. La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 How can we expect a harvest of thought who have 
 not had a seed-time of character? 
 
91 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 No trait of character is rarer, none more admirable, 
 than thoughtful independence of the opinions of 
 others combined with a sensitive regard to the feelings 
 of others. 
 
 WISDOM AND GOODNESS. 
 
 WOULD be good, I would be wise, 
 
 For all men should. The wise man saith, 
 "Folly is sin, and sin is death." 
 
 But Fate denies 
 
 What I demand for boons like these, 
 If not a life, yet days of ease. 
 
 Not in this world of noise and care 
 
 Is Wisdom won, however wooed; 
 
 She must be sought in solitude, 
 
 With thought and prayer J 
 She will not hear my hasty cries; 
 I have no leisure to be wise 1 
 
 Who can be wise that can not fly 
 
 These empty babblers, loud and vain; 
 To whom there is no God but Gain ? 
 Alas! not I. 
 
 But this dark thought will still intrude, 
 
 There needs no leisure to be goodl 
 
 Goodness is the only happiness. Socrates. 
 
WISDOM AND GOODNESS. 92 
 
 If we can by honest effort change a wayworn 
 thought to a manly purpose, encourage the halting 
 mind to correct views, remove all prejudices, enkindle 
 chaste desires, and strengthen a noble purpose, our 
 efforts in life shall not be in vain. Feeble our efforts 
 may be, as the breeze that kisses the mountain summit, 
 yet it may be the morning breath that shall help on his 
 mission of mercy, virtue and usefulness, some waiting 
 pilgrim. 
 
 Whoever sincerely endeavors to do all the good he 
 can will probably do much more than he imagines, or 
 will ever know to the day of judgment, when the 
 secrets of all hearts shall be manifest. 
 
 Better a cheap coffin and a plain funeral, after a 
 useful, unselfish life, than a grand procession and a 
 marble mausoleum, after a loveless, selfish life. 
 
 To do good to men is the great work of life; to 
 make them true Christians is the greatest good we can 
 do them. Dr. J. W. Alexander. 
 
 If a man have love in his heart, he may talk in 
 broken language, but it will be eloquence to those who 
 listen. 
 
93 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 The best recipe for going through life in an exquisite 
 way with beautiful manner, is to feel that everybody, 
 no matter how rich or how poor, need all the kindness 
 they can get from others in the world. 
 
 There is as much greatness of mind in the owing of 
 a good turn as in the doing of it, and we must no 
 more force a requital out of season, than to be want- 
 ing in it. Seneca. 
 
 Liberality, courtesy, benevolence, unselfishness, un- 
 der all circumstances and toward all men the'se quali- 
 ties are to the world what the linchpin is to the rolling 
 chariot. 
 
 To return good for good, is civil courtesy; evil for 
 evil, malicious policy; evil for good, hateful ingrati- 
 tude; good for evil, true Christian charity. Schlatter. 
 
 Good men have the fewest fears. He has but one 
 who fears to do wrong. He has a thousand who has 
 overcome that one. 
 
 The wisely good man seeks to connect others with 
 him, by the influence of that which separates him from 
 them. 
 
ENERGY AND COURAGE. 94 
 
 A cunning man is never a firm man, but an honest 
 man is; a double-minded man is always unstable, a 
 man of faith is firm as a rock; honesty is faith applied 
 to worldly things, and faith is honesty quickened by 
 the Spirit to the use of heavenly things. Edward 
 Irving. 
 
 To fill the sphere which Providence appoints is true 
 wisdom; to discharge trusts faithfully and live exalted 
 ideas, that is the mission of good men. 
 
 ENERGY AND COURAGE. 
 
 T NERGY enables a man to force his way through 
 irksome drudgery and dry details, and carries 
 
 him onward and upward in every station in 
 life. It accomplishes more than genius. Energy of 
 will may be defined to be the very central power of 
 character in a man in a word, it is the Man himself. 
 True hope is based on it and it is hope that gives the 
 real perfume to life. No blessing is equal to the pos- 
 session of a stout heart. Charles IX., of Sweden, 
 was a firm believer in the power of will, even in a 
 youth. Laying his hand on the head of his youngest 
 son, when engaged upon a difficult task, he exclaimed, 
 
95 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 " He shall do it! he shall do it! " Nothing that is oi 
 real worth can be achieved without courageous work- 
 ing. The timid and hesitating find everything impos- 
 sible, chiefly because it seems so. The Scriptural 
 injunction, " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it 
 with all thy might," must be realized if you wish to 
 succeed. It is pluck, tenacity, and determined perse- 
 verance which wins soldiers' battles, and, indeed, every 
 battle. It is the one neck nearer that wins the race 
 and shows the blood; it is the one march more that 
 wins the campaign; the five minutes' more persistent 
 courage that wins the fight. Though your force be 
 less than another's, you equal and out-master your 
 opponent if you continue it longer and concentrate it 
 more. The reply of the Spartan father, who said to 
 his son, when complaining that his sword was too 
 short, " Add a step to it," is applicable to everything 
 (n life. Smiles. 
 
 FORCE OF PURPOSE. 
 
 if T is will force of purpose that enables a man 
 to do or be whatever he sets his mind on being 
 or doing. No one ardently wishes to be sub- 
 missive, patient, modest, or liberal, who does not 
 become what he wishes. 
 
FORCE OF PURPOSE. 96 
 
 " You are now at the age," said Lammenais once, 
 addressing a gay youth, " at which a decision must be 
 formed by you; a little later, and you may have to 
 groan within the tomb which yourself have dug, with- 
 out the power of rolling away the stone. That which 
 the easiest becomes a habit in us is the will. Learn 
 then to will strongly and decisively; thus fix your float- 
 ting life, and leave it no longer to be carried hither 
 and thither, like a withered leaf, by every wind that 
 blows." 
 
 Buxton held the conviction that a young man might 
 be very much what he pleased, provided he formed a 
 strong resolution and held to it. Writing to one of his 
 own sons, he once said, " You are now at that period 
 of life in which you must make a turn to the right or 
 the left. You must now give proofs of principle, de- 
 termination, and strength of mind; or you must sink 
 into idleness, and acquire the habits and character of 
 a desultory, ineffective young man; and if once you 
 fall to that point, you will find it no easy matter to 
 rise again. I am sure that a young man may be very 
 much what he pleases. In my own case it was so. 
 Much of my happiness, and all my pros- 
 perity in life, have resulted from the change I made at 
 your age. If you seriously resolve to be energetic and 
 industrious, depend upon it that you will for your 
 
97 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 whole life have reason to rejoice that you were wise 
 enough to form and to act upon that determination." 
 As will, considered without regard to direction, is 
 simply constancy, firmness, perseverance, it will be 
 obvious that everything depends upon right direction 
 and motives. Directed towards the enjoyment of the 
 senses, the strong will may be a demon, and the intel- 
 lect merely its debased slave; but directed towards 
 good, the strong will is a king, and the intellect is then 
 ihe minister of man's highest well-being. 
 
 " Where there is a will there is a way," is an old and 
 true saying. He who resolves upon doing a thing, by 
 that very resolution often scales the barriers to it, and 
 secures its achievement. 
 
 To think we are able, is almost to be so to 
 determine upon attainment, is frequently attain- 
 ment itself. Thus, earnest resolution has often seemed 
 to have about it almost a savor of omnipotence. The 
 strength of Suwarrow's character lay in his power of 
 willing, and, like most resolute persons, he preached it 
 up as a system. " You can only half will," he would 
 say to people who failed. Like Richelieu and Napo- 
 leon, he would have the word " impossible " banished 
 from the dictionary. " I don't know," " I can't," and 
 " impossible," were words which he detested above all 
 others. "Learn! Dol Tryl " he would exclaim. His 
 
PROMPTITUDE AND DECISION. 98 
 
 biographer has said of him, that he furnished a re- 
 markable illustration of what may be effected by the 
 energetic development and exercise of faculties, the 
 germs of which at least are in every human heart. 
 
 PROMPTITUDE AND DECISION. 
 
 Y NERGY usually displays itself in promptitude 
 
 and decision. When Ledyard, the traveler, 
 was asked by the African Association when he 
 would be ready to set out for Africa, he promptly an- 
 swered, " To-morrow morning." Blucher's prompti- 
 tude obtained for him the cognomen of " Marshal 
 Forwards " throughout the Prussian army. When 
 John Jervis, afterwards Earl St. Vincent, was asked 
 when he would be ready to join his ship, he replied, 
 " Directly." And when Sir Colin Campbell, appointed 
 to the command of the Indian army, was asked when 
 he could set out, his answer was, " To-morrow " an 
 earnest of his subsequent success. For it is rapid de- 
 cision, and a similar promptitude in action, such as 
 taking instant advantage of an enemy's mistakes, that 
 so often wins battles. "Every moment lost," said 
 Napoleon, "gives an opportunity for misfortune;' 
 and he used to say that he beat the Austrians because 
 
99 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 they never knew the value of time ; while they 
 dawdled, he overthrew them. In many positions in 
 life, " he who hesitates is lost." Endeavor, there- 
 fore, to be prompt and decisive in answer and action. 
 Lack of decision has been the ruin of thousands of 
 business men; while they considered, others acted, 
 and so secured the advantage. 
 
 Decision of character is the one bright, golden 
 apple, which every young man . should strive in the 
 beginning to pluck from the tree of life. Foster. 
 
 Deeds always overbalance, and downright practice 
 speaks more plainly than the fairest profession. 
 
 RICHES AND REFINEMENT. 
 
 "T is a great mistake to confound riches and re- 
 finement, just as it is a great mistake to fancy 
 that because a man is poor, he must be coarse 
 and vulgar. Lord Jefferies, though seated in the 
 highest tribunal in the realm, while pouring forth his 
 brutal ribaldry, was a vulgar man ; and a very vulgar 
 man was Chancellor Thurlow, spouting oaths and 
 obscenity at the table of the Prince of Wales. Bu 
 

 THE STRENGTH OF SILENCE. 100 
 
 there was no vulgarity about James Ferguson, though 
 herding sheep, while his eye watched Arcturus and the 
 Pleiades, and his wistful spirit wandered through im- 
 mensity ; and, though seated at a stocking loom, there 
 was no vulgarity in the youth who penned " The Star 
 of Bethlehem ; " the weaver boy, Henry Kirkewhite, 
 was not a vulgar lad. James Hamilton. 
 
 THE STRENGTH OF SILENCE. 
 
 'HERE is a mighty power in silence, and silence 
 is frequently an evidence of power. There 
 are many men so weak that they can not hold 
 their tongues, or keep their mouths shut. The man 
 who offends not in word is a perfect man, able to bridle 
 the whole body. He who can control his tongue, can 
 control his entire nature. Hence silence is a token of 
 power, of reserved force. He who knows how to keep 
 silence knows how to speak ; and often his silence is 
 more impressive than his speech. " Brilliant flashes 
 of silence " is by no means a senseless expression. 
 How often have we seen the babble of the foolish 
 hushed by the silent glance of an earnest soul ; how 
 often the ribald jest or scurrilous word has died upon 
 the lips when an indignant silence was the only reply 
 
 7 
 
101 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 it could evoke. That man or that woman who can 
 stand silent amid reproaches and accusations and 
 sneers and scoffs, shows a degree of strength and 
 power which falls not to the lot of every one. 
 
 The silent accomplish more than the noisy. The 
 tail of the rattlesnake makes all the noise, but the 
 head does all the execution. 
 
 CORRECT SPEECH. 
 
 [yOTHING bespeaks a true lady and gentleman 
 or well-bred child more than the use of cor- 
 rect language, pure, clean speech. Cultivate 
 my young friends, good English in every-day conver- 
 sation. Unclean speech is in keeping with a smutty 
 face, begrimed hands, and soiled clothes. Strange, 
 how easy and almost unconsciously one slides into a 
 careless slipshod way of talking, even when the rules 
 of grammar are quite familiar. It is not uncommon 
 to find people learned in all the rules of syntax who 
 apply them to the art of writing, yet habitually talk 
 incorrectly. 
 
 Early culture and association with refined persons 
 are quite essential to give purity to speech ; but if one 
 
COARSENESS. 102 
 
 has been unfortunately deprived of these, he should 
 continually watch his words till he gets in the habit of 
 using decent English, for nothing so unmistakably 
 marks one with vulgarity, no matter how elegant is the 
 outside covering, as shabby, low-born speech. 
 
 COARSENESS. 
 
 NY lack of refinement in one's manner, or any 
 incivility in one's ordinary personal address, 
 ought certainly to be a matter of regret to the 
 person whose daily life displays such a defect. But it 
 is by no means uncommon for men and women to 
 think, or to pretend they think, that rudeness of man- 
 ner and neglect of the courtesies of life are evidences 
 of a strong character; and that a coarse and uncivil 
 habit of speech is an admirable proof that the speaker 
 is a " plain, blunt man," who is above shams and pre- 
 tences. 
 
 Now, while coarseness may exist along with strength 
 of character and righteousness of life, it is always a 
 Flemish to them, and never a help. 
 
 Every one who is trying to lead a good life, should 
 also try to lead a winsome and courteous life. By 
 abandoning gentleness of disposition and graciousness 
 
103 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 of word and deed, he throws away a means of growth 
 and an effective weapon. It is almost always a grave 
 mistake, in a matter of manners, or in any other 
 matter, to try to put yourself on other people's level. 
 If you are trying to do right, the chances are that, by 
 adopting a coarse manner of speech or action, you will 
 degrade yourself, and will fail in the good you seek. 
 Rude and rough people are ready to excuse themselves 
 for their own coarseness ; but, after all, they despise it 
 in those who are striving to instruct and help them. 
 
 Cleanness and brightness and winsomeness, in 
 thought and word and deed and manner and material 
 surroundings, are always ready to help what is good. 
 Coarseness and dinginess and ugliness are evils that 
 must sometimes be endured, but ought never to be 
 defended as virtues in themselve' 
 
 READY MEN. 
 
 EADY MEN are generally witty men, and they 
 are almost always talkative men. What Lord 
 Bacon said two hundred years ago has never 
 been contradicted. Reading makes a full man, con- 
 ference a ready man, and writing an exact man, and 
 accordingly, the nations that are most talkative are 
 
READY MEN. 104 
 
 those that have most wit and most readiness. We 
 count Lamb and Thackeray among the foremost of our 
 humorists; but poor Elia, though matchless in the say- 
 ing of good things, could rarely get them out fast, and 
 Thackeray himself says that he thought of his own 
 generally when he was in bed. With all his taste for 
 society, he could never make a good after-dinner 
 speech, and often envied Dickens his rare and valuable 
 faculty. And yet he did in his life say some very good 
 things. When he paid his first visit to America it was 
 known of him that he was very fond of oysters, and, 
 at a dinner given in his honor, the largest oyster that 
 the place provided quite an abnormal oyster, in 
 point of size was placed before him. He said him- 
 self that he turned pale when he saw it, but that he ate 
 it in silence. His host asked him how he felt after, 
 " Profoundly thankful," said Thackeray; " I feel as if 
 I had swallowed a baby." 
 
 The rarest recorded instance of readiness was un- 
 doubtedly that of Foote, the comedian. He had given 
 offence to a famous duellist of the day, who had vowed 
 vengeance, and was only waiting to. meet the luckless 
 actor. Foote was told of it, and kept out of his way 
 for a long time. At last they met at an inn where 
 the actor generally dined, and where the duellist hap- 
 pened quite casually to come in. Foote saw his dan- 
 
105 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 ger when it was too late; but, as his enemy said noth- 
 ing, did his best to entertain him and keep him in 
 good humor. No one could be more diverting when 
 he choose, and here he was not only very anxious but 
 very successful. He told one story after another. He 
 kept the table in a roar. The fire-eater became quite 
 pacific, and was delighted with his new friend. Foote 
 passed from one good story to another, and at last took 
 to imitating different people, a practice for which he 
 had extraordinary facility. The other guests got quite 
 uproarious with the fun, when suddenly the luckless 
 actor saw irom the face of his enemy that he had in- 
 advertently imitated one of his friends. The duellist 
 was, in fact, putting his hand in his pocket to pull out 
 & card and present it as the preliminary to a challenge, 
 when he turned round to the mimic and said in a dry, 
 satiric voice, " Really, Mr. Foote, you are so uncom- 
 monly clever in taking other people off, I wonder 
 whether you could take yourself off." " Oh, certainly," 
 said Foote, and he walked straightway into the street. 
 Here his readiness, probably, saved him his life. 
 
 It is noticeable how the characters of mind and 
 body correspond, and how the ready man is generally 
 quick in his movements, prompt in action and fertile 
 in resource. The great Napoleon used to say that no 
 quality was so rare or so valuable as (what he called) 
 
TIMELY JESTS. . 106 
 
 two-o'clock-in-the-morning courage. The power of 
 suddenly changing front and altering the whole scheme 
 of a campaign was precisely what the greatest of all 
 modern strategists would admire. He himself emin- 
 ently possessed it. The man who had the wit to say 
 to the aristocrat who taunted him with his lack of 
 ancestry, " Moi,je suis ancetre" possessed a readiness 
 of words as well as of action. He was not likely to 
 lose either his head or his tongue. But this kind of 
 promptitude is rarely coupled with staying power. It 
 is distinctly meteoric, and part of the brilliancy is due 
 to the gloom which follows it. And, therefore, the 
 nations who most possess it are also purposeless, and 
 without reserve of force. 
 
 TIMELY JESTS. 
 
 'ANY a promotion has been secured by a 
 timely jest. The New York Times relates 
 several of these happy " hits: " 
 Marshal Junot, while still a young subaltern, attract- 
 ed the attention of the commander-in-chief by coolly 
 observing, as an Austrian shell scattered earth over 
 the despatch which he was writing, at the latter's 
 dictation, " It's very kind of them to 'sand* our letters 
 for us." 
 
107 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 The traditions of the English navy have preserved 
 another instance of the kind well worth quoting. 
 When the Duke of Clarence, afterward William IV., 
 went down to Portsmouth to inspect the British 
 Seventy-fours, the guide allotted to him was a battered 
 old lieutenant with one eye, who, lacking a " friend at 
 court," had served for years without promotion. 
 
 As the veteran removed his hat to salute the royal 
 visitor, the latter remarked his baldness, and said, 
 jestingly, " I see my friend, you have not spared your 
 hair in your country's service." 
 
 " Why, your Royal Highness," answered the old 
 salt, " so many young fellows have stepped over my 
 head that it's a wonder I have got any hair left." 
 
 The duke laughed loudly at this professional joke, 
 but he made a note of the old man's name at the same 
 time, and a few days after the latter received his ap- 
 pointment as captam. 
 
 THE STEADY AND SOBER SUCCEED. 
 
 OWEVER nrach people may propound to the 
 contrary, the steady and sober men are to 
 rise and be respected, while the dissolute and 
 disorderly must sink and disappear. And though there' 
 is in many quarters a prejudice against piety though 
 
COURAGE IN SICKNESS. 108 
 
 some employers prefer workmen with easy principles 
 and pliant consciences no business can long prosper 
 without probity, and no employer can become perma- 
 nently rich with rogues for his servants. Hence, in all 
 extensive and protracted undertakings, principle will 
 undoubtedly win for itself an eventual preference; and 
 the workman who understands his trade and keeps his 
 character, may not only expect to keep his place, but 
 perhaps become one day a partner in the establish- 
 ment. If you won't tell a falsehood for your employer, 
 neither will you waste his materials nor pilfer his 
 
 property. And if you are not a sycophant in the 
 
 
 
 slackest times, you will not be sauciest in the busiest ; 
 but, seeking first to please your Master in Heaven, you 
 will find yourself rewarded with the goodwill and con- 
 fidence of your superiors on earth. Hamilton. 
 
 COURAGE IN SICKNESS. 
 
 'HE London Lancet, in a few words of good 
 advice to sick people, says : " With the aid or 
 under the influence of pluck, and using that 
 term in a modern sense, and in relation to the daily 
 heroism of life in the midst of 'difficulties, it is possible 
 not only to surmount what appear to be insuperable 
 
109 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 obstructions, but to defy and repel the ennuities of 
 climate, adverse circumstances, and even disease. 
 Many a life has been saved by the moral courage of a 
 sufferer. It is not alone in bearing the pain of opera- 
 tions or the misery of confinement in a sick-room, this 
 self-help becomes of vital moment, but in the monoto- 
 nous tracking of a weary path, and the vigorous dis- 
 charge of ordinary duty. How many a victim of 
 incurable disease has lived on through years of suffer- 
 ing, patiently and resolutely hoping against hope, or, 
 what is better, living down despair, until the virulence 
 of a threatening malady has died out, and it has 
 ceased to he destructive, although its physical charac- 
 teristics remained ? 
 
 "This power of 'good spirits' is a matter of, high 
 moment to the sick and weakly. To the former it 
 may mean the ability to survive ; to the latter, the 
 possibility of outliving, or living in spite of, a disease. 
 It is, therefore, of the greatest importance to cultivate 
 the highest and most buoyant frame of mind which 
 the conditions will admit. The same energy which 
 takes the form of mental activity is vital to the work 
 of the organism. Mental influences affect the system, 
 and a joyous spirit not only relieves pain, but increases 
 the momentum of life in the body. 
 
 "The multitude of healthy persons who wear out 
 
HOW TO READ. 110 
 
 their strength by exhaustive journeys and perpetual 
 anxieties for health is very great, and the policy in 
 which they indulge is exceedingly short-sighted. Most 
 of the sorrowful and worried cripples who drag out 
 miserable lives in this way, would be less wretched and 
 live longer if they were more hopeful. It is useless to 
 expect that anyone can be reasoned into a lighter 
 frame of mind, but it is desirable that all should be 
 taught to understand the sustaining, and often even 
 curative power of ' good spirits.' " 
 
 HOW TO READ. 
 
 answer to the question, How a young man shall 
 read to the best advantage? he should select 
 some particular department of knowledge which 
 he feels interesting, and within this department he 
 should read carefully and studiously. If he only once 
 make this selection, and make it rightly, other things 
 will adjust themselves. He will not need very definite 
 rules, nor will he need to concern himself about strict 
 conformity with what rules he may have. The varied 
 and desultory reading in which he may indulge will 
 adapt itself in various ways to the main intellectual 
 interest of his life. It will appropriate to its purpose 
 
Ill SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 the most stray information, while again the vivid 
 central fire of his intellectual being will cast a light 
 and meaning often around the most desultory par- 
 ticulars. 
 
 It may not seem easy to make such a choice; but 
 every one more or less unconsciously makes it. The 
 important matter is to recognize it to yourselves, and 
 to buildup your intellectual education upon it; because 
 it can be really built up in no other manner. It is 
 only by studying some particular subject with a view 
 to mastering it, or some parts of it, that you can ever 
 acquire a really studious insight and power. Nothing 
 will enable you to realize your mental gifts, and to feel 
 yourselves in the free and useful possession of them, 
 like the triumph of bringing within your power and 
 making your own some special subject. Abridged 
 from Tulloch. 
 
 WHAT TO READ. 
 
 'OME books are to be tasted, others to be swal- 
 lowed, and some few to be chewed and di- 
 gested. 
 
 If this was true in Lord Bacon's time, how much 
 more so is it in a time like ours, when books have 
 multiplied beyond all precedent in the world's history. 
 
WHAT TO READ. 112 
 
 It has become, in fact, a task beyond the power of any 
 man to keep up, as it is said, with the rapidly-accumu- 
 lating productions of literature, in all its branches. 
 To enter a vast library, or even on of comparatively 
 modest dimensions, such as all our large towns may 
 boast, and survey the closely-packed shelves the 
 octavos rising above quartos, and duodecimos above 
 both is apt to fill the mind with a sense of oppression 
 at the mere physical impossibility of ever coming in 
 contact with such multiplied sources of knowledge. 
 The old thought, Ars longa, vita brevis, comes home 
 with a sort of sigh to the mind. Many lives would be 
 wasted in the vain attempt. The inspection of a large 
 library certainly cannot be recommended to inspire 
 literary ambition. The names that shine in the hori- 
 zon of fame are but specks amid the innumerable un- 
 known that look down from the same eminence of 
 repose. 
 
 Lord Macaulay has spoken especially of an " emi- 
 nent soldier and distinguished diplomatist who has 
 enjoyed the confidence of the first generals and states- 
 men which Europe has produced in our day," and who 
 confessed that his success in life was mainly owing to 
 his advantageous position when a young man, in the 
 vicinity of a library. " When I asked to what he owed 
 his accomplishments and success, he said to me, 
 
113 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 'When I served when a young man in India when it 
 was the turning-point in my life when it was a mere 
 chance whether I should become a mere card-playing, 
 hooka-smoking lounger I was fortunately quartered 
 for two years in the neighborhood of an excellent 
 library, which was made accessible to me.' " 
 
 The influence of books at a certain stage of life is 
 more than can be well estimated. The principles 
 which they inculcate, the lessons which they exhibit, 
 the ideals of life and character which they portray, 
 root themselves in the thoughts and imaginations of 
 young men. They seize them with a force which to 
 after years appears scarcely possible. And when their 
 faculties in mere restlessness might consume them- 
 selves in riotous frivolity and self-indulgence, they 
 often receive in communion with some true and earn- 
 est book a right impulse which turns them to safety, 
 happiness and honor. 
 
 The task of selection perhaps might be fairly left to 
 individual taste and judgment. 
 
 Books may be classified conveniently enough in 
 four divisions: 
 
 1. Philosophical and Theological. 
 
 2. Historical. 
 
 3. Scientific. 
 
 4. Books of Poetry and Fiction. 
 
WHAT TO READ. 114 
 
 The young man in the full flush of his opening 
 powers is naturally drawn to the examination and dis- 
 cussion of the highest problems that concern his 
 being and happiness. There is a sanguine daring of 
 speculation in the fresh and inexperienced mind 
 which dashes at questions before which the veteran 
 philosopher, warned by many defeats, sadly recoils. 
 It may be often very useless in its results this youth- 
 ful speculation, but, if not altogether misdirected, it 
 may prove the most precious training. The mind 
 rises, from its very defeats in such service, more 
 vigorous and more elastic. 
 
 The great work of Locke on the " Human Under- 
 standing," every young man who has a love for specu- 
 lation, ought to study; at any rate, he should master 
 his small work on the " Conduct of the Understand- 
 ing; " and to make even this little treatise his own 
 thoroughly, and enter into all its meaning, he will find 
 a most bracing and wholesome mental exercise. 
 
 A knowledge of theological literature is the busi- 
 ness of the professed theologian. It can only be pos- 
 sible to others in rare circumstances. But every 
 thinking man should know something of theology, 
 and there are young minds that will by an irresistible 
 impulse seek their main intellectual discipline in the 
 reading of theological authors: 
 
115 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 There are three great writers, each marking a cen- 
 tury, we may say, of our past English theology, that 
 may be very confidently recommended to the study oi 
 young men. These writers are Butler, Leighton, and 
 Hooker. Butler, a master of theological argument, 
 strong in logic, calm in spirit, comprehensive in aim. 
 Leighton, like Pascal, a genius in religious meditation, 
 deep, reflective, yet quick, sensitive, and tender the 
 
 i 
 
 beau-ideal of a Christian muser; never losing hold of 
 the most practical duties in the most ethereal flights 
 of his quaint and holy imagination. Hooker, a 
 thinker of transcending compass, sweeping in the 
 range of his imperial mind the whole circumference of 
 Christian speculation rising with the wings of bold- 
 ness to the heights of the Divine government, and yet 
 folding them with the sweetest reverence before the 
 Throne. There are many other great names in Eng- 
 lish theological literature, but there are none greater 
 than these. 
 
 Every young man should give his earnest attention 
 to the reading of Scripture. Let him not suppose that 
 he can easily know all that it contains. Let him not 
 be contented to read a chapter now and then, rather 
 as a duty than as a living interest and education. No 
 reading should be so interesting to him ; none, cer- 
 tainly, can form to him so high an education. It is 
 
WJIAT TU READ. 116 
 
 not only his Christian intelligence and sensibility that 
 will be everywhere drawn forth in the perusal of its 
 blessed pages, but his taste, his imagination and reason 
 will be exercised and regaled in the highest degree. 
 Its poetry is, beyond all other poetry, incomparable, 
 not only in the height of its Divine arguments, as 
 Milton suggests, but in " the very critical art of com- 
 position." Its narratives are models of simplicity and 
 graphic life. It abounds in almost every species of 
 literary excellence and intellectual sublimity. It is, 
 above all, the inspired Word of God the source of all 
 spiritual truth and illumination. Whatever you read, 
 therefore, do not forget to read the Bible. Let it be 
 as the " man of your counsel, and the guide of your 
 right hand," as a " light to your feet, and a lantern to 
 your path." "The law of the Lord is perfect, con- 
 verting the soul ; the testimony of the Lord is sure, 
 making wise the simple ; the statutes of the Lord are 
 right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the 
 Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes." " Wherewithal 
 shall a young man cleanse his way ? By taking heed 
 thereto according to thy word." 
 
 Of the many great historical works which our age 
 has produced, there are some so popular and univer- 
 sally read that it is needless to recommend them. 
 Macaulav's wonderful volumes, as they successively 
 8 
 
117 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 appeared, carried captive the minds of old and 
 young. 
 
 The works of Hallam, of Thirlwall and Grote, of 
 Milman and Prescott, of Froude and of Motley, show 
 in their mere enumeration what a field lies before the 
 student here. The careful study of any one of these 
 histories is an education in itself; and there is no 
 mental task could be recommended as more appro- 
 priate and more valuable to the young man. To read 
 them as a whole is never an easy matter ; and it will 
 be found, in point of fact, they are but rarely read 
 and studied so completely as they ought to be. The 
 young man cannot brace himself to any higher effort, 
 or one more likely to tell upon his whole intellectual 
 life. The study of such works as we have mentioned, 
 or of many others that might be mentioned Claren- 
 don's graphic pages Gibbon's magnificent drama 
 may serve to date an epoch in his educational devel- 
 opment. Many can recall how the perusal of such a 
 masterpiece as Gibbon's " Decline and Fall of the 
 Roman Empire " served to raise the conception of 
 what the human mind could do, and left an indelible 
 impress on the intellectual character. 
 
 In studying such works the aim should be to master 
 them, and if possible their subject, so thoroughly as 
 to be able to exercise a free judgment as to what you 
 
WHAT TO READ. 118 
 
 read. To read merely that you may repeat the views 
 of the historian, or perhaps imbibe his prejudices, is 
 a poor and even an injurious result. You must read 
 rather that you may understand his subject; and if he 
 is really a great historian, he will enable you to do 
 this to some extent independently of his own repre- 
 sentations. Using his pages, you must yet look 
 through them, and endeavor to realize the course of 
 facts for yourself. Especially aim, by an active sym- 
 pathy and intelligent perception of what is going on 
 around you of the history that is being daily wrought 
 out under your eyes and in your own experience to 
 get some living apprehension of the past, some real 
 understanding of its great events and characters, its 
 social manners, its laws, institutions, and modes of 
 government, the condition of the people in their dif- 
 ferent ranks and relations, the interior of their family 
 life, their diet, their industry, and their amusements. 
 It is but recently that historians have recognized the 
 necessity of treating some of these topics, but it is 
 becoming more and more evident that it is such topics, 
 and not the mere details of battles or of royal doings, 
 that form the real staple of history. Whatever con- 
 tributes to unveil the past, to make it an intelligible 
 reality and not a mere shadowy picture, is the right 
 material of history; and its highest use is to give such 
 
119 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 an insight into the past as may happily guide and 
 influence the future. 
 
 Of all departments of knowledge, indeed, that of 
 popular science may be said to be making the most 
 advance. 
 
 Sir John Herschel, Sir David Brewster, Hugh Millei, 
 Mr. Lewes, Mr. Hunt, and others, have all written of 
 science so as to interest any but the most indifferent 
 minds. And the young student who would follow ou' 
 stich studies will find in the writings of these well- 
 known authors at once their plainest and their highest 
 guides. Such works as those of Hugh Miller on 
 geology, and Mr. Lewes's " Sea-side Studies," and 
 Professor Johnston's " Chemistry of Common Life," 
 and Mr. Faraday's " Lectures for the Young," not to 
 mention others, show how numerously books lie to his 
 hand in this department of study. 
 
 In such studies let it be your aim not merely to 
 accumulate facts, nor store your memories with details, 
 but also to grasp principles. It is from lack of doing 
 
 
 
 this that many minds turn away in weariness fro*a 
 scientific pursuits. 
 
 Youthful study advances under a spur of poet.c 
 enthusiasm more than anything else. Carry this 
 enthusiasm with you into the study of nature. Learn 
 to appreciate i* beauties, to admire its harmonies, as 
 
WHAT TO READ. 120 
 
 you explore its secrets. This is surely the natural 
 result that should follow an increased acquaintance 
 with scientific facts. The more nature is studied, the 
 more should all its poetry appear. 
 
 Books of Poetry and Fiction are the last class that 
 we have enunciated. In many respects they are the 
 most important. 
 
 Looking to the moral effect of our modern poetry 
 and fiction upon the young, there is nothing more de- 
 serving of commendation than the increased spirit of 
 human sympathy for which they are remarkable. The 
 literature of the last age was especially defective in 
 this respect. It lacked genial tenderness or earnest 
 sympathy for human suffering and wrong. Its very 
 
 * 
 
 pathos was hard and artificial. It wept over imaginary 
 sorrows ; it rejoiced in merely sentimental triumphs. 
 In contrast to this, the poetry and fiction of our time 
 concern themselves closely with the common sorrows 
 and joys of the human heart. The pages of Dickens 
 and Kingsley, and Miss Mulock and Mrs. Gaskell, and 
 Mrs. Oliphant and George Eliot, are all intensely real- 
 istic. A deep-thoughted tenderness for human mis- 
 eries, and a high aspiration after human improvement, 
 animate all of them. It is impossible to read their 
 novels without having our moral sentiments acutely 
 touched and drawn forth. The same is eminently true 
 
121 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 of the poetry of Mr. Tennyson, Mrs. Browning, and 
 others. It is almost more than anything characterized 
 by a spirit of impassioned philanthropy, of intense 
 yearning over worldly wrong and error, "ancient 
 forms of party strife," and of lofty longing after a 
 higher good than the world has yet known 
 
 " Sweeter manners, purer laws, 
 The larger heart, the kindlier hand." 
 
 It is impossible for the young to love such poetry and 
 to study it without a kindling in them of something of 
 the same affectionate interest in human welfare and 
 aspiration after human improvement. 
 
 Of course, they will read what is most popular and 
 interesting. There is one writer, however, neither a 
 poet nor a novelist, and yet in some respects both, 
 whom we feel urged to commend to their study the 
 author of " Friends in Council," " Essays written in 
 the Intervals of Business," and " Companions of my 
 Solitude," etc. These volumes are charming, at once 
 for their literary finish, their genial earnestness, and 
 their thoughtful, ethical spirit. 
 
 We should further urge upon young men the neces- 
 sity of extending their studies in the lighter depart- 
 ments of literature beyond their own age. They must 
 aind will reap mainly, as we have supposed, the fiction 
 And poetry of their time, but in order to get any 
 
WHAT TO READ. J22 
 
 adequate culture from this sort of reading they must 
 do something more. They must study English poetry 
 in its successive epochs, ascending by such stages as 
 are represented by the great names of Wordsworth, 
 and Cowper, and Dryden, and Milton, and Shak- 
 speare, and Spenser. To study thoroughly the great 
 works of any of these poets, especially of Wordsworth, 
 or Milton, or Shakspeare, or Spenser, is a lasting edu- 
 cational gain. Any youth w,ho spends his leisure over 
 the pages of the " Excursion," or the " Paradise Lost," 
 or the " Fairy Queen," or the higher dramas of Shak- 
 speare, is engaged in an important course of intellec- 
 tual discipline. And if you would wish to know the 
 charms of literary delight in their full freedom and 
 acquisition, you must have often recourse to these 
 great lights of literature, and seek to kindle your love 
 for " whatsoever hath passion or admiration " at the 
 flame of their genius. 
 
 Altogether it is evident what a wide field of study is 
 before every young man who loves books, and would 
 seek to improve himself by their study. The field is 
 only too wide and varied, were it not that different 
 tastes will seek different parts of it, and leave the rest 
 comparatively alone. Whatever part you may select, 
 devote yourself to it. If history, or science, or belles 
 lettres be your delight, read with a view not merely to 
 
123 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 pass the time, but really to cultivate and advance your 
 intellectual life. The mere dilettante will never come 
 to anything. Read whatever you read with enthu- 
 siasm, with a generous yet critical sympathy. Make 
 it your own. Take it up by lively and intelligent 
 application at every point into your own mental 
 system, and assimilate it. An active interest is a con- 
 dition of all mental improvement. The mind only 
 expands or strengthens when it is fairly awakened. 
 Give to all your reading an awakened attention, a 
 mind alive and hungering after knowledge, and whether 
 
 
 
 you read history, or poetry, or science, or theology, or 
 even fiction of a worthy kind, it will prove to you a 
 mental discipline, and bring you increase of wisdom. 
 Abridged from Tulloch. 
 
 M 
 
 I 
 
 HOW TO ENJOY. 
 
 life that is at all healthy and happy must 
 have its enjoyments as well as its duties. It 
 
 cannot bear the constant strain of grave occu- 
 pation without losing something of its vitality and 
 sinking into feebleness. Asceticism may have construed 
 life as an unceasing routine of duty of work done for 
 some grave or solemn purpose But asceticism has 
 
HOW TO ENJOY. 124 
 
 neither produced the best work nor the noblest lives 
 of which our world can boast. In its effort to elevate 
 human nature, it has risen at the highest to a barren 
 grandeur. It has too often relapsed into moral weak- 
 ness or perversity. Human nature, as a prime condi- 
 tion of health, must recreate itself must have its 
 moments of unconscious play, when it throws off the 
 burden of work, and rejoices in the mere sensation of 
 its own free activity. 
 
 And youth must especially have such opportunities 
 of recreation. It thirsts for them it is all on the alert 
 to catch them ; and if denied to it, it dwindles from 
 its proper strength, or pursues illegitimate and hurtful 
 gratifications. A y mm g man without the lov-e qf 
 amusement is an unnatural phenomenon ; and an 
 education that does not provide for recreation as well 
 as study would fail of its higher end from the very ex- 
 clusiveness with which it aims to reach it. 
 
 The question, How to enjoy ? is therefore, in its 
 right sense, always a secondary, never a primary ques- 
 tion. It comes after the question of duty, and never 
 before it; and vhere the main question is rightly 
 Tesolved, the secondary one becomes comparatively 
 easy of solution. Principle first: Play afterwards. 
 And if there be the root of right principle in us, we 
 will not, need not trouble ourselves minute^ as to 
 
125 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 modes of amusement. Enjoyment in itself is meant to 
 be a right and blessing, and not a snare. This is a 
 very important truth for the young to understand. 
 Life is open to them; amusement is free to them. 
 They are entitled to live freely and trustfully, and enjoy 
 all if only the sense of duty and of God remain with 
 them if only they do not forget that for all these things 
 God will bring them into judgment. Under this proviso 
 they may taste of enjoyment as liberally as their 
 natures crave, and their opportunities offer. To preach 
 anything else to the young, is neither true in itself nor 
 can possibly be good to them. To teach them to be 
 afraid of enjoyment, is to make them doubtful of 
 their own natural and healthy instincts ; and as these 
 instincts remain, nevertheless, and constantly reassert 
 their power, it is to introduce an element of hurtful 
 perplexity into their life. They are urged on by 
 nature ; they are held back by authority. And if the 
 rein of the outward law imposed upon them once 
 break, they are plunged into darkness. They have no 
 guide. It is vain to enter into this struggle with 
 nature : it is cruel and wrong to do it. Nature must 
 have play, and is to be kept within bounds by its own 
 wise training, and the development of a higher spirit 
 within, and not by mere dictation an \ arbitrary com- 
 pulsion from without. 
 
HOW TO ENJOY. 126 
 
 Ascetic formality is the refuge of a weak moral 
 nature, or the wretchedness of a strong one. How far 
 even a noble mind may sink under it to what depths 
 of despairing imbecility and almost impiety it may 
 reach we have only to study the austerities of Pascal 
 to see. We are told that " Pascal would not per- 
 mit himself to be conscious of the relish of his food ; 
 he prohibited all seasonings and spices, however 
 much he might wish for and need them ; and 
 he actually died because he forced the diseased 
 stomach to receive at each meal a certain amount of 
 aliment, neither more nor less, whatever might be his 
 appetite at the time, or his utter want of appetite. He 
 wore a girdle armed with iron spikes, which he was 
 accustomed to drive in upon his body (his fleshless 
 ribs) as often as he thought himself in need of such 
 admonition. He was annoyed and offended if any in 
 his hearing might chance to say that they had just 
 seen a beautiful woman. He rebuked a mother who 
 permitted her own children to give her their kisses. 
 Towards a loving sister, who devoted herself to his 
 comfort, he assumed an artificial harshness of manner 
 for the express purpose, as he acknowledged, of revolt- 
 ing her sisterly affection." 
 
 And all this sprung from the simple principle that 
 earthly enjoyment was inconsistent with religion. 
 
127 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 Once admit this principle, and there is no limit to the 
 abject and unhappy consequences that may be drawn 
 from it. The mind, thrown off any dependence upon 
 its own instincts, is cast into the arms of some blind 
 authority or dogmatism which tyrannizes over it, re- 
 ducing it more frequently to weakness than bracing it 
 up to endurance and heroism. 
 
 No doubt it will be the impulse of every Christian 
 man, and it ought no less to be so of every Christian 
 youth, to "rejoice with trembling." While he hears 
 the voice saying to him, on the one hand, " Rejoice, 
 O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer 
 thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of 
 thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes ; " he will 
 not forget the voice that says to him, on the other 
 hand, " But know thou, that for all these things God 
 will bring thee into judgment." The voices are one, 
 in fact ; and if he is wise, he will acknowledge their 
 unity, and be sober in his very mirth, and temper the 
 hour of cheerfulness with the thought of responsibility. 
 There is something in the heart itself, even in the heart 
 of the young, that intimates this as the true mean. 
 There is often a monition of warning in the very mo- 
 ment of mirth. The joy is well. It is the natural ex- 
 pression of a healthy and well-ordered frame; it leaps 
 up to meet the opportunity as the lark to greet the 
 
HOW TO ENJOY. ,128 
 
 morn. The movement of nature is as clear in the one 
 case as in the other; yet there is a background of 
 moral consciousness lying behind the human instinct, 
 and always ready to cast the shadows of thought of 
 reflective responsibility over it. 
 
 Our constitution contains within itself a check to 
 all undue excitement. This check is, no doubt, often 
 ineffectual, but it is so at the expense of the constitu- 
 tion, and the very capacity of enjoyment which may 
 overtask itself. This capacity wastes by excessive 
 use. Of nothing may the young man be more sure 
 than this. If he will rejoice without thought and with- 
 out care in the days of his youth, he will leave but 
 little power of enjoyment for his manhood or old age. 
 If he keep the flame of passion burning, and plunge 
 into excitement after excitement in his heyday, there 
 will be nothing but feebleness and exhaustion in his 
 maturity. He cannot spend his strength and have it 
 too. He cannot drink of every source of pleasure, 
 and have his taste uncloyed, and his thirst fresh as at 
 the first. 
 
 There is need here of a special caution in a time 
 like ours. There are young men who now-a-days ex- 
 haust pleasure in their youth. The comparative free- 
 dom of modern life encourages an earlier entrance 
 into the world, and an earlier ass mption of manly 
 
129 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 manners and habits than was wont to be. Pleasure is 
 cheaper and more accessible the pleasure of travel, 
 pleasure of many kinds; and it is no uncommon thing 
 to find young men who have run the round of manly 
 pleasure before they have well attained to man's estate, 
 and who are blase with the world before the time that 
 their fathers had really entered into it. 
 
 The avoidance of all excess is a golden rule in en- 
 joyment. It may be a hard, and in certain cases an 
 
 * 
 
 impossible rule to the young. In the abundance of 
 life there is a tendency to overflow; and when the 
 young heart is big with excited emotion it seems vain 
 to speak of moderation. Every one, probably, will be 
 able to recall hours when, amid the competitive glad- 
 ness of school or college companions the impulses of 
 enjoyment seemed to burst all bounds, and ran into 
 the most riotous excitement; and in the reminiscences 
 of such hours there may be the charm as of a long- 
 lost pleasure never to be felt again; but if the memory 
 be fairly interrogated, it will be found that even then 
 there was a drawback some latent dissatisfaction and 
 weariness, Of something worse, that grew out of the 
 very height or overplus of that rapturous enjoyment, 
 a great humorist (Thomas Hood) has said: 
 
 " E'en the bright extremes of joy 
 Bring on conclusions of disgust." 
 
WHAT TO ENJOY. 130 
 
 Assuredly the most durable and the best pleasures are 
 all tranquil pleasures. And it is just one of the les- 
 sons which change the sanguine anticipations of youth 
 into the sober experience of manhood that the true 
 essence of attainable enjoyment is not in bursts of 
 excitement, but in the moderate flow of healthy and 
 happy, because well-ordered, emotion. Abridged from 
 Tulloch. 
 
 WHAT TO ENJOY. 
 
 'OUTH must have its recreations. Enjoyment 
 must mingle largely in the life of every healthy 
 young man enjoyment liberal yet temperate. 
 
 The active sports of boyhood may be, and as far as 
 possible should be, carried into early manhood. 
 Athletic games, or whatever game carries the young 
 man into the open air, braces his muscles, and 
 strengthens his health, and procures the merry-hearted 
 companionship of his fellows, should be indulged in 
 without stint, so far as his opportunities will permit, 
 and the proper claims of business or of study justify. 
 
 There is another class of amusements to which 
 young men may freely betake themselves as they have 
 opportunity shooting and fishing. 
 
 In addition to such out-door amusements, there are 
 
131 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 various forms of in-door amusement which claim some 
 notice. It is more difficult to find in-door amusements 
 for young men, for the simple reason that healthy and 
 happy exercise is the idea which is chiefly associated 
 with, and chiefly legitimates recreation on their part. 
 And the open air is the natural place for such exercise. 
 Yet in-door amusements must also be found. Music 
 is one of the chief of these amusements, and certainly 
 one of the most innocent and elevating. 
 
 Of all delights, to those who have the gift or taste 
 for it, music is the most exquisite. To affix the term 
 amusement to it is perhaps scarcely fair. It is always 
 more than this when duly appreciated. 
 
 There is no other recreation, if this be the proper 
 name for it at all, which is so purely intellectual. 
 Other amusements, many games, may exercise the in- 
 tellect, and even largely draw forth its powers of fore- 
 thought, of decision and readiness ; but music appeals 
 to the soul in those deeper springs which lie close to 
 spiritual and moral feeling. It lifts it out of the pres- 
 ent and visible into the future and invisible. Even in 
 its gayer and lighter strains it often does this, as well 
 as in its more solemn and sacred chants. The simple 
 lilt of a song which we have heard in youth, or which 
 reminds us of home and country some fragment of 
 melody slight in meaning, yet exquisitely touching in 
 
WHAT TO ENJOY. 132 
 
 sweet or pathetic wildness will carry the soul into a 
 higher region, and make a man feel kindred with the 
 
 immortals. 
 
 " O joy! that in our embers 
 
 Is something that doth live; 
 That nature yet remembers 
 What was so fugitive 1" 
 
 A joy so precious as this, and which may minister to 
 iuch high ends, is one which we are bound to cultivate 
 in every manner, and for which we are warranted in 
 seeking the fullest indulgence. The concert, the 
 oratorio, the opera, are all, from this point of view, to 
 be commended. 
 
 The love of play of any kind in the shape of 
 billiards or cards, or anything else, is a hazardous, and 
 may prove, before you are well aware of it, a fatal 
 passion. Whenever it begins to develop, you have 
 passed the bounds of amusement ; and to indulge in 
 any games but for amusement is at once an infatuation 
 and temptation of the worst kind. 
 
 The drama is in its idea noble and exalting one of 
 the most natural, and therefore most effective expres- 
 sions of literary art. Who may not be made wiser 
 and better by the study of Shakspeare's wonderful 
 creations ? In what human compositions rather than 
 in his plays would a young man seek for the stimulus 
 of high thoughts, and the excitement of lofty and 
 
 / 
 
 Q 
 
133 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 heroic or gentle and graceful virtues ? The stage in 
 its true conception is a school of morals as well as of 
 manners, in which the things that are excellent should 
 commend themselves, and the things that are low and 
 bad show their own disgrace. There is no species of 
 entertainment that can, according to its true idea, 
 more completely vindicate itself than the theatre. 
 
 Festive parties among yourselves, how light and 
 genial may they be ! What feast of reason and flow 
 of soul ! What flash of wit and cannonade of argu- 
 ment may they call forth ! What radiant sparks, the 
 memory of which will never die out, but come back in 
 the easy and humorous moments of an earnest and it 
 may be a sad existence, and brighten up the past with 
 the momentary coruscations of a departed brilliancy! 
 What deep, hearty friendship may illuminate and 
 beautify them! Yet we know that such gladsome mo- 
 ments are peculiarly akin to danger. Merriment- may 
 pass into wantonness, and legitimate indulgence into a 
 riotous carouse. Moderation is the difficulty of youth 
 in everything. Yet when the bounds of moderation 
 are once passed, all the enjoyment is gone recreation 
 ceases. Edward Irving says : 
 
 " Mirth and laughter, and the song, and the dance, 
 and the feast, and the wine-cup, with all the jovial 
 glee which circulates around the festive board, are 
 
WHAT TO ENJOY. 134 
 
 only proper to the soul at those seasons when she is 
 filled with extraordinary gladness, and should wait 
 until those seasons arrive in order to be partaken of 
 wholesomely and well; but by artificial means to make 
 an artificial excitement of the spirits is violently to 
 change the law and order of our nature, and to force 
 it to that to which it is not willingly inclined. With- 
 out such high calls and occasions, to make mirth and 
 laughter is to belie nature, and misuse the ordinance 
 of God. It is a false glare, which doth but show the 
 darkness and deepen the gloom. It is to wear out and 
 dissipate the oil of gladness, so that, when gladness 
 cometh, we have no light of joy within our souls, and 
 look upon it with baleful eyes. It is not a figure, but 
 a truth, that those who make those artificial merri- 
 ments night after night, have no taste for natural mirth, 
 and are gloomy and morose until the revels of the 
 table or the lights of the saloon bring them to life 
 again. Nature is worsted by art artificial fire is 
 stolen, but not from heaven, to quicken the pulse of 
 life, and the pulse of life runs on with fevered speed, 
 and the strength of man is prostrated in a few brief 
 years, and old age comes over the heart when life 
 should yet be in its prime. And not only is heaven 
 made shipwreck of, but the world is made shipwreck 
 of not only the spiritual man quenched, but the 
 
135 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 animal man quenched, by such unseasonable and in- 
 temperate merrymakings." 
 
 In all your enjoyments, therefore, be moderate. 
 The principle that leads and regulates you must be 
 from within. Set your heart right in the love of God 
 and the faith of Christ, and difficulties will disappear. 
 Your recreation will fit in naturally to your life. The 
 inner life in you will assimilate to the Divine every- 
 where, and return its own blessed and consecrating 
 influence to all your work and all your amusments. 
 Abridged from Tulloch. 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 'HE foundation of every good government is the 
 family. The best and most prosperous country 
 is that which has the greatest number of happv 
 firesides. The holiest institution among men is marri- 
 age. It has taken the race countless ages to come up 
 to the condition of marriage. Without it there would 
 be no civilization, no human advancement, no life 
 worth living. Life is a failure to any woman who has 
 not secured the love and adoration of some grand and 
 magnificent man. Life, is a mockery to any man, no 
 matter whether he be mendicant or monarch, who has 
 
WHY A MAN NEEDS A WIFE, 136 
 
 not won the heart of some worthy woman. Without 
 love and marriage, all the priceless joys of this life 
 would be as ashes on the lips of the children of men. 
 
 " You had better be the emperor of one loving and 
 tender heart, and she the empress of yours, than to be 
 the king of the world. The man who has really won 
 the love of one good woman in this world, it matters 
 not though he die in the ditch a beggar, his life has 
 been a success." 
 
 There is a heathen book which says: " Man is 
 strength, woman is beauty; man is courage, woman is 
 love. When the one man loves the one woman, and 
 the one woman loves the one man, the very angels 
 leave heaven and come and sit in that house and sing 
 for joy." The Physiologist* 
 
 WHY A MAN NEEDS A WIFE. 
 
 is not to sweep the house, make the bed, darn 
 the socks and cook the meals chiefly, that a 
 man wants a wife. If this is all he needs, hired 
 help can do it cheaper than a wife. If this is all, when 
 a young man calls to see a lady, send him into the 
 pantry to taste the bread and cake she has made; send 
 him to inspect the needlework and bed-making; or put 
 
137 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 a broom in her hand, and send him to witness its use. 
 Such things are important, and the wise young man 
 will quickly look after them j but what the true man 
 wants with a wife is her companionship, sympathy and 
 love. The way of life has many dreary places in it, 
 and man needs a companion to go with him. A man is 
 sometimes overtaken by misfortune ; he meets with 
 failure and defeat ; trials and temptations beset him, 
 and he needs one to stand by and sympathize. He has 
 some hard battles to fight with poverty, enemies, and 
 with sin ; and he needs a woman that, when he puts 
 his arm around her, he feels he has something to fight 
 for, she will help him to fight. All through life, through 
 storms and through sunshine, conflict and victory ; 
 through adverse and through favoring winds, man 
 needs a woman's love. Happy he who finds it. 
 
 HAPPINESS. 
 
 TVER since the world sinned and woke up to 
 misery, there is one absentee whom all have 
 
 agreed in deploring. Every age has asked 
 tidings of her from the age that has went before, 
 and from the one which came after; and even the 
 most indolent have out forth an effort, and have joined 
 
HAPPINESS. 138 
 
 their neighbors in searching for this fugitive. Some 
 have dived into the billowy main, and sought her in 
 pearly grottoes and coral caves. And some have bored 
 into the solid rock, and rummaged for her in the 
 mountain roots. And some have risen to where the 
 eagles poise, and have scanned in successive horizons 
 the habitable surface; but all have got the same report. 
 "Where is happiness? " " Not in me," cries the leafy- 
 grove; " nor in me," booms the sounding tide; "nor 
 in me," rumbles gaunt and hollow from the dusky 
 mine. And failing to detect her in life's by-paths and 
 open ways, her votaries have reared decoys or shrines 
 into which she haply might turn aside. But all of them 
 have failed entirely. Theatres, dancing-saloons, gin- 
 palaces, racing-booths there is no authentic instance 
 that she ever entered one of them. And though some 
 have fancied that they glimpsed her " yes, yes," they 
 whisper, " yonder she passed; and in that hall of 
 science, in that temple of knowledge, in that sweet 
 home, you'll find her; " by the time you reached it, 
 there was a death's-head at the door, and a " Mene 
 Tekel " on the wall. " Not in me," sighed vain philos- 
 ophy; and "not in me," re-echoed the worldling's 
 rifled home. 
 
 But where is happiness? Man knows that she is not 
 dead, but disappeared; and ever since under the for- 
 
139 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 bidden tree he ate the bitter-sweet and startled her 
 away, he has longed to find that other and enlighten- 
 ing fruit which would reveal her to his eyes again. 
 And this is the boon which the world's teachers have 
 undertaken to supply. They have come from time to 
 time, seers and sages, Thales, Pythagoras, Zoroaster, 
 Epicurus, Con-fu-tze, and to humanity's wondering 
 
 
 
 gaze they have held up apples, as they said, fresh 
 gathered from the Tree of Life. But after rushing and 
 jostling round them, and getting at great cost a prize, 
 these all proved naught to the hungry buyer. The 
 golden apples were mere make-believes; hollow rinds, 
 painted shells filled up with trash or trifles. Some ate, 
 and still their soul had appetite; others ate, and were 
 poisoned. 
 
 At last, along the path which a hundred prophecies 
 had carved and smoothed, "the desire of all nations" 
 the Son of God appeared. And from the paradise 
 above he fetched the long-lost secret. Himself " the 
 truth ; " his every sentence freighted with majesty, and 
 fragrant with heaven's sanctity; it needed not the fre- 
 quent miracle to compel the exclamation, " Rabbi, we 
 know that thou art a teacher come from God." He 
 did not reason ; he revealed. His sayings were not 
 the conjectures of keen sagacity, nor even the recol- 
 lections of an angel visitor; but they were authoritative 
 
HAPPINESS. 140 
 
 words the insight of Omniscience, the oracle of in- 
 carnate Deity. And giving freely to all comers " the 
 apples of gold " from his " basket of silver," the dim 
 and the famished ate, and with open eyes looking up, 
 in himself they recognized the answer to the ancient 
 query. "What is happiness? " " Come unto me," is 
 the Saviour's reply ; " come unto me, all ye that labor 
 and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take 
 my yoke upon you, and learn of me ; for I am meek 
 and lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your 
 souls." " Where is happiness ? " Here, at the feet of 
 Immanuel. And then, and since, thousands have veri- 
 fied the saying. In the words of Jesus they have dis- 
 covered the boon for which their understandings 
 longed conclusive and soul-filling knowledge ; and in 
 his person and work they have found the good for 
 which their conscience craved a saving and sanctify- 
 ing Power. 
 
 To the great question, What is happiness? Jesus is 
 the embodied answer at once the teacher and the les- 
 son. The question had been asked for ages, and some 
 hundred solutions had been proposed. And in the 
 outset of his ministry the Saviour took it up, and gave 
 the final answer. What is happiness? " Happy are 
 the humble. Happy are the contrite. Happy are the 
 meek. Happy are they who hunger after righteous- 
 
141 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 / 
 
 iress. Happy are the merciful, the pure in heart, the 
 peace-makers, the men persecuted for righteousness." 
 In other words, he declared that happiness is good- 
 ness. A holy nature is a happy one. 
 
 Placed before you is a casket of gold, and you are 
 asked to guess what it contains; and looking at its ex- 
 quisite tracery and costly material, you think of a 
 blazing diamond or a monarch's signet-ring. Guess? 
 You can not guess. They open it, and reveal a spider, 
 a scorpion, or a spinning-worm! And surveying a 
 human soul, you view the finest casket in this world. 
 Made on a heavenly pattern, with powers so capacious, 
 and feelings so susceptible, in order to be worthily 
 occupied, it would need to be filled with some lofty 
 purpose, some pure and noble motive. My reader, 
 you have got that casket. What have you put in it ? 
 What is the thing which chiefly occupies your thoughts? 
 Your great pursuit and pleasure? What impels you to 
 exertion? Is it money? Is it popularity and praise? 
 Is it dress? Is it dainty food? Is it some fierce and 
 evil passion? Is it envy? Is it resentment? Is it self- 
 ishness? Is it the wish to achieve your own personal 
 ease and comfort? Is it something so paltry that you 
 are ashamed to call it the business of life? something 
 so baleful that it degrades and destroys the heart which 
 hides it? 
 
HAPPINESS. 142 
 
 Seek to have your bosom filled with pure kindness 
 and holy compassion a compassion various as is 
 human sorrow a kindness which shall still be flowing 
 while life itself is ebbing. Cease to be selfish. Learn 
 the blessedness of doing good. Even you can con- 
 tribute to that great work the making of a bad world 
 better. Is there no acquaintance over whom you have 
 influence? None whom you might reclaim from a bad 
 habit? None whom you might induce to read some 
 useful book, or attend the house of God? Are there 
 no poor children whom you might collect on a Sabbath 
 afternoon, and teach them a Bible lesson? Is there 
 no sick neighbor to whom you might carry a little 
 comfort something nice to tempt his listless palate? 
 No invalid friend whom you might cheer with an hour 
 of your company, or to whom you might read or say 
 something for the good of his soul? At all events,, 
 you can be doing good at home. You can minister 
 to the wants of some aged parent. You can sooth the 
 grief of some bereaved relation. You can lend a 
 helping hand, and lighten their labors who have got 
 too much to do. With a firm but fatherly control, you- 
 can guide your children in wisdom's ways. And you- 
 can diffuse throughout your dwelling that sweetest 
 music cheerful and approving words; that brightest 
 light the clear shining of a cordial countenance. 
 

 
 143 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 And when God in His Providence sends favorable 
 opportunities, with self-denial and prayerful affection, 
 you may be the means of stamping on some immortal 
 mind a truth or lesson as enduring as that mind itself. 
 You will not need to study your appearance, nor to 
 be nervous about people's opinions; for by its self- 
 sustaining sincerity, your conduct will sooner or later 
 achieve its own vindication, and in her child shall 
 Wisdom be justified. In your common talk there 
 will be no scurrility nor scandal; nothing false, nothing 
 unseemly, nothing base nor vile. In your ordinary 
 acting, there will be no crooks nor crotchets; nothing 
 cruel or oppressive; nothing for which conscience can 
 not render a good reason. Hamilton. 
 
 SUCCESS 
 
 'HETHER your life shall be successful or 
 not, is a question which must be answered 
 by yourself alone. It cannot be done by 
 proxy. Temperance, frugality, honesty, and economy, 
 accompanied by strong determination and persever- 
 ance, will bring you to the goal of success and pros- 
 perity. Nothing else will. " The longer I live," said 
 Fowell Buxton, " the more I am certain that the great 
 
SUCCESS. 144 
 
 difference between men, between the feeble and the 
 powerful, the great and the insignificant, is energy 
 invincible determination a purpose once fixed, and 
 then death or victoryl That quality will do anything 
 that can be done in this world; and no talents, no cir- 
 cumstances, no opportunities, will make a two-legged 
 creature a man without it." LThe path of success in 
 business is invariably the path of common sense. The 
 best kind of success in every man's life is not that 
 which comes by accident, and " lucky hits " often turn 
 out very unlucky in the end. " We may succeed for a 
 time by fraud, by surprise, by violence; but we can 
 succeed permanently only by means directly opposite." 
 " Honesty is the best policy," and it is upheld by the 
 daily experience of life ; uprightness and integrity 
 being found as successful in business as in everything 
 ^ else. "It is possible that the scrupulously honest man 
 may not grow rich so fast as the unscrupulous and dis- 
 honest one; but the success will be of atruer kind, earned 
 without fraud or injustice. And even though a man 
 should for a time be unsuccessful, still he must be 
 honest; better lose all and save character. For char- 
 acter is itself a fortune, and if the high-principled man 
 will but hold in his way courageously, success will 
 surely come nor will the highest reward of all be 
 withheld from him. 
 
145 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS 
 
 The rules of conduct followed by Lord Erskine are 
 worthy of being engraven on every young man's heart: 
 " It was a first command and counsel of my- earliest 
 youth," he said, "always to do what my conscience 
 told me to be a duty, and to leave the consequence to 
 God. I shall carry with me the memory, and I trust 
 the practice, of this parental lesson, to the grave. 
 I have hitherto followed it, and I have no reason to 
 complain that my obedience to it has been a temporal 
 sacrifice. I have found it, on the contrary, the road 
 to prosperity and wealth, and I shall point out the 
 same path to my children for their pursuit.'* 
 
 Disappointments and difficulties may fall to your lot, 
 but let them not crush your determination to succeed. 
 George Stephenson worked fifteen years at the im- 
 provement of his locomotive before achieving his de- 
 cisive victory. William Cobbett mastered English 
 grammar when a private soldier on the pay of sixpence 
 a day, and often underwent great hardship in his 
 efforts to advance in knowledge. Audubon, the ornith- 
 ologist, had two hundred of his original drawings, 
 representing two thousand inhabitants of air, eaten up 
 by rats, and the loss nearly put a stop to his researches. 
 He took up his gun, note-book and pencils, and went 
 forth to the woods gayly, as if nothing had happened. 
 In three years his portfolio was again filled. The list 
 
SUCCESS. H6 
 
 of men who have overcome what seemed to others in- 
 surmountable obstacles is a long one, and the few in- 
 stances given are sufficient to illustrate the power of 
 determination and perseverance. " What is even 
 poverty itself," asks Richter, " that a man should mur- 
 mur under it ? It is but as the pain of piercing a 
 maiden's ear, and you hang precious jewels in the 
 wound." Many are found capable of bravely bearing 
 up under privations and trials, who are afterwards 
 found unable to withstand the more dangerous in- 
 fluences of prosperity. Prosperity is apt to harden 
 the heart to pride; adversity, in a man of resolution, 
 will only serve to ripen it to fortitude. Difficulties may 
 intimidate the weak, but they act only as a wholesome 
 stimulus to men of pluck and resolution. All experi- 
 ence of life, indeed, serves to prove that the impedi- 
 ments thrown in the way of success may, for the most 
 part, be overcome by steady conduct, honest zeal, 
 activity, perseverance, and above all, by a determined 
 resolution to surmount difficulties, and stand up man- 
 fully against misfortune. 
 
 "Honor and shame from no condition rise, 
 Act well your part, there all the honor lies." 
 
 Be it yours to strive and win, and to obtain in this 
 world riches and honor, and in the world to come a 
 " crown of life." Such a victory is surely the greatest 
 
147 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 success that can be attained, and is far more lasting 
 and enduring than so-called success obtained by 
 fraud and trickery, however much it may appear to the 
 contrary at times. 
 
 There are many who, in their eager desire for the 
 end, overlook the difficulties in the way ; there is 
 another class who see nothing else. The first class 
 may sometimes fail; the latter rarely succeed. 
 
 THE IRREPARABLE PAST. 
 
 ytf TIME is the solemn inheritance to which every 
 
 Jman is born heir, who has a life-rent of this 
 * 
 world a little section cut out of eternity, and 
 
 given us to do our work in; an eternity before, an 
 eternity behind: and the small stream between, float- 
 ing swiftly from the one into the vast bosom of the 
 other. The man who has felt, with all his soul, the 
 significance of time, will not be long in learning any 
 lesson that this world has to teach him. Have you 
 ever felt it ? Have you ever realized how your own 
 little streamlet is gliding away and bearing you along 
 with it towards that awful other world of which all 
 things here are but thin shadows, down into that 
 
THE IRREPARABLE PAST. 148 
 
 eternity towards which the confused wreck of all 
 earthly things is bound ? 
 
 Let us realize, that, until that sensation of time, and 
 the infinite meaning which is wrapped up in it, has 
 taken possession of our souls, there is no chance of 
 our ever feeling strongly that it is worse than madness 
 to sleep that time away. Every day in this world has 
 its work; and every day, as it rises out of eternity, 
 keeps putting to each of us the question afresh, What 
 will you do before to-day has sunk into eternity and 
 nothingness again? 
 
 And now what have we to say with respect to this 
 strange, solemn thing TIME? That men do with it 
 through life just what the Apostles did for one precious 
 and irreparable hour of it in the garden of Geth- 
 semane they go to sleep! Have you ever seen those 
 marble statues, in some public square or garden, 
 which art has so finished into a perennial fountain 
 that through the lips or through the hands the clear 
 water flows in a perpetual stream on and on forever, 
 and the marble stands there passive, cold making 
 no effort to arrest the gliding water? 
 
 It is so that time flows through the hands of men 
 swift, never pausing till it has run itself out; and there 
 is the man petrified into a marble sleep, not feeling 
 what it is which is passing away forever! It is so, just 
 
149 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 so, that the destiny of nine men out of ten accom- 
 plishes itself, slipping away from them aimless, useless, 
 till it is too late. And we are asked, with all the 
 solemn thoughts which crowd around our approaching 
 eternity, What has been our life, and what do we in- 
 tend it shall be ? 
 
 Yesterday, last week, last year, they are gone! Yes- 
 terday was such a day as never was before, and never 
 can be again. Out of darkness and eternity it was 
 born, a new, fresh day; into darkness and eternity it 
 sank again forever. It had a voice, calling to us of 
 its own its own work, its own duties. What were we 
 doing yesterday? Idling, whiling away the time, in 
 light and luxurious literature; not as life's relaxation, 
 but as life's business? Thrilling our hearts with the 
 excitement of life, contriving how to spend the day 
 most pleasantly? Was that our day? 
 
 All this is but the sleep of the three Apostles. And 
 now let us remember this: There is a day coming 
 when the sleep will be broken rudely with a shock; 
 there is a day in our future lives when our time will 
 be counted, not by years, nor by months, nor yet by 
 hours, but by minutes the day when unmistakable 
 symptoms shall announce that the messenger of death 
 has come to take us. 
 
 That startling moment will come, which it is vain to 
 
PREPARE FOR THE END. 150 
 
 attempt to realize now, when it will be felt that it is 
 all over at last that our chance and our trial are 
 past. The moment that we have tried to think 
 of, shrunk from, put away from us, here it is going 
 too, like all other moments that have gone before 
 it; and then with eyes unsealed at last, we shall look 
 back on the life which is gone by. Robertson. 
 
 PREPARE FOR THE END. 
 
 "T is well for the young man, even in entering 
 upon life, to remember its termination, and how 
 swiftly and suddenly the end may come. " Here 
 we have no continuing city." We are " strangers and 
 pilgrims, as all our fathers were," and the road of life 
 at its very opening may pass from under us, and ere 
 we have well entered upon the enjoyments and work 
 of the present, we may be launched into the invisible 
 and future world that awaits us. At the best life is 
 but a brief space. " It appeareth for a little moment, 
 and then vanisheth away." It is but a flash out of 
 darkness, soon again to return into darkness. Or, as 
 the old Saxon imagination conceived, it is like the 
 swift flight of a bird from the night without, through a 
 lighted chamber, filled with guests and warm with the 
 
SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 breath of passion, back into the cold night again 
 (Bede, ii., 13). We stand, as it were, on a narrow 
 " strip of shore, waiting till the tide, which has washed 
 away hundreds of millions of our fellows, shall wash 
 us away also into a country of which there are no 
 charts, and from which there is no return." The 
 image may be almost endlessly varied. The strange 
 and singular uncertainty of life is a stock theme of 
 pathos; but no descriptive sensibility can really touch 
 all the mournful tenderness which it excites. 
 
 It is not easy for a young man, nor indeed for any 
 man in high health and spirits, to realize the transi- 
 toriness of life and all its ways. Nothing would be 
 less useful than to fill the mind with gloomy images of 
 death, and to torment the present by apprehensions 
 as to the future. Religion does not require nor 
 countenance any such morbid anxiety; yet it is good 
 also to sober the thoughts with the consciousness of 
 life's frailty and death's certainty. It is good above 
 all to live every day as we would wish to have done 
 when we come to die. We need not keep the dread 
 event before us, but we should do our work and duty 
 as if we were ever waiting for it and ready to en- 
 counter it. " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it 
 with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor 
 knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou 
 
PREPARE FOR THE END. 152 
 
 goest." Our work here should always be preparatory 
 for the end. Our enjoyments should be such as shall 
 not shame us when we stand face to face with death. 
 The young, and the old too, but especially the young, 
 are apt to forget this. In youth we fail to realize the 
 intimate dependency, the moral coherency which 
 binds life together everywhere, and gives an awful 
 meaning to every part of it. We do not think of con- 
 sequences as we recklessly yield to passion, or stain 
 the soul by sinful indulgence. But the storm of pas- 
 sion never fails to leave its waste, and the stain, 
 although it may have been washed by the tears of 
 penitence, and the blood of a Saviour, remains. There 
 is something different, something less firm, less clear, 
 honest, or consistent in our life in consequence; and 
 the buried sin rises from its grave in our sad moments, 
 and haunts us with its terror, or abashes us with its 
 shame. Assuredly it will find us out at last, if we lose 
 not all spiritual sensibility. When our feet begin " to 
 stumble on the dark mountains," and the present loses 
 its hold upon us, and the objects of sense wax faint 
 and dim, there is often a strangely vivid light shed 
 over our whole moral history. Our life rises before 
 us in its complete development, and with the scars 
 and wounds of sin just where we made them. The 
 sorrow of an irreparable past comes upon us, and we 
 
153 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 are tortured in vain by the thought of the good we 
 have thrown away, or of the evil we have made our 
 portion. 
 
 Let no young man imagine for a moment that it can 
 ever be unimportant whether he yields to this or that 
 sinful passion, or, as it may appear to him at the time, 
 venial indulgence. Let him not try to quiet his con- 
 science by the thought that at the worst he will out- 
 live the memory of his folly, and attain to a higher life 
 in the future. Many may seem to him to have done 
 this. Many of the greatest men have been, he may 
 think, wild in youth. They have " sown their wild 
 oats," as the saying is, and had done with them; and 
 their future lives have only appeared the more remark- 
 able in the view of the follies of their youth. A more 
 mischievous delusion could not possibly possess the 
 mind of any young man. For as surely as the inner- 
 most law of the world is the law of moral retribution, 
 they who sow wild oats will reap, in some shape or 
 another, a sour and bitter harvest. For " whatsoever 
 a man soweth that shall he also reap; he that soweth 
 to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption; he that 
 soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life ever- 
 lasting." 
 
 There is nothing more sure than this law of moral 
 connexion and retribution. Life, through all its course, 
 
PREPARE FOR THE END. 154 
 
 is a series of moral impulses and consequences, each 
 part of which bears the impress of all that goes before, 
 and again communicates its impress to all that follows. 
 And it is with the character, which is the sum of all, 
 that we meet death, and enter on the life to come. 
 Every act of life all our work, and study, and enjoy- 
 ment our temptations, our sins, our repentance, our 
 faith, our virtue are preparing us whether we think it 
 or not for happiness or misery hereafter. It is this 
 more than anything that gives such a solemn character 
 to the occupations of life. They are the lessons for a 
 higher life. They are an education a discipline for 
 hereafter. This is their highest meaning. 
 
 Let young men remember the essential bearing of 
 the present upon the future. In beginning life let them 
 remember the end of it, and how it will be at the end 
 as it has been throughout. All will be summed up to 
 this point ; and the future and the eternal will take 
 their character from the present and the temporary. 
 " He that is unjust, let him be unjust still : and he 
 which is filthy, let him be filthy still : and he that is 
 righteous, let him be righteous still : and he that is 
 holy, let him be holy still." The threads of our moral 
 history run on in unbroken continuity. The shadow of 
 death may cover them from the sight ; but they emerge 
 in the world beyond in like order as they were here. 
 
155 
 
 SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS. 
 
 Make your present life, therefore, a preparation for 
 death and the life to come. Make it such by embrac- 
 ing now the light and love of God your Father by 
 doing the work of Christ your Saviour and Master 
 by using the world without abusing it by seeking in 
 all your duties, studies, and enjoyments, to become 
 meet for a " better country, that is, an heavenly." To 
 the youngest among you the time may be short. The 
 summons to depart may come in " a day and an hour 
 when you think not." Happy then the young man 
 whose Lord shall find him waiting working looking 
 even from the portals of an opening life here to the 
 gates of that celestial inheritance " incorruptible and 
 undefiled, and that fadeth not awayl" Tulloch. 
 
HRIFT 
 
THRIFT. 
 
 INDUSTRY. 
 
 "Not what I have, but what I do, is my kingdom." Carlyle. 
 
 " Productive industry is the only capital which enriches a people, and spreads 
 national prosperity and well-being. In all labor there is profit, says Solomon. 
 What is the science of Political Economy, but a dull sermo'n on this text? " 
 Samuel Laing. 
 
 " God provides the good things of the world to serve the needs of nature, by 
 the labors of the ploughman, the skill and pains of the artizan, and the dangers 
 and traffic of the merchant. . . . The idle person is like one that is dead, uncon- 
 cerned in the changes and necessities of the world ; and he only lives to spend 
 his time, and eat the fruits of the earth : like a vermin or a wolf, when their 
 time comes they die and perish, and in the meantime do no good. " Jeremy 
 Taylor. 
 
 " For the structure that we raise, 
 Time is with materials filled ; 
 Our to-days and yesterdays 
 
 Are the blocks with which we build." Longfellow. 
 
 began with civilization. It began when 
 men found it necessary to provide for to-mor- 
 row, as well as for to-day. It began long be- 
 fore money was invented. 
 
 Thrift means private economy. It includes domes- 
 tic economy, as well as the order and management of a 
 family. 
 
 While it is the object of Private Economy to create 
 and promote the well-being of individuals, it is the 
 
POLITICAL ECONOMY. 157 
 
 ject of Political Economy to create and increase the 
 wealth of nations. 
 
 Private and public wealth have the same origin. 
 Wealth is obtained by labor ; it is preserved by savings 
 and accumulations ; and it is increased by diligence 
 and perseverance. 
 
 It is the savings of individuals which compose the 
 wealth in other words, the well-being of every 
 nation. On the other hand, it is the wastefulness of 
 individuals which occasions the impoverishment of 
 states. So that every thrifty person may be regarded 
 as a public benefactor, and every thriftless person as a 
 public enemy. 
 
 There is no dispute as to the necessity for Private 
 Economy. Everybody admits it, and recommends it. 
 But with respect to Political Economy, there are nume- 
 rous discussions, for instance, as to the distribution 
 of capital, the accumulations of property, the incidence 
 of taxation, the Poor Laws, and other subjects, into 
 which we do not propose to enter. The subject of 
 Private Economy, of Thrift, is quite sufficient by itself 
 to occupy the pages of this book. 
 
 Economy is not a natural instinct, but the growth of 
 experience, example, and forethought. It is also the 
 result of education and intelligence. It is only when 
 men become wise and thoughtful that they become 
 
158 PRIVATE ECONOMY. 
 
 
 
 frugal. Hence the best means of making men and 
 women provident is to make them wise. 
 
 Prodigality is much more natural to man than thrift, 
 The savage is the greatest of spendthrifts, for he has 
 no forethought, no to-morrow. The prehistoric man 
 saved nothing. He lived in caves, or in hollows of the 
 ground covered with branches. He subsisted on shell- 
 fish which he picked up on the seashore, or upon nuts 
 which he gathered in the woods. He killed animals 
 with stones. He lay in wait for them, or ran them 
 down on foot. Then he learnt to use stones as tools j 
 making stone arrow-heads and spear-points, thereby 
 utilizing his labor, and killing birds and animals more 
 quickly. 
 
 The original savage knew nothing of agriculture. It 
 was only in comparatively recent times that men gath- 
 ered seeds for food, and saved a portion of them for 
 next year's crop. When minerals were discovered, and 
 fire was applied to them, and the minerals were smelted 
 into metal, man made an immense stride. He could 
 then fabricate hard tools, chisel stone, build houses, 
 and proceed by unwearying industry to devise the man- 
 ifold means and agencies of civilization. 
 
 The dweller by the ocean burnt a hollow in a felled 
 tree, launched it, went to sea in it, and fished for food. 
 The hollowed tree became a boat, held together with 
 
USEFUL LABORS. 159 
 
 iron nails. The boat became a galley, a ship, a paddle- 
 boat, a screw steamer, and the world was opened up for 
 colonization and civilization. 
 
 Man would have continued uncivilized, but for the 
 results of the useful labors of those who preceded him. 
 The soil was reclaimed by his predecessors, and made 
 to grow food for human uses. They invented tools and 
 fabrics, and we reap the useful results. They discov- 
 ered art and science, and we succeed to the useful ef- 
 fects of their labors. 
 
 All nature teaches that no good thing which has once 
 been done passes utterly away. The living are ever 
 reminded of the buried millions who have worked and 
 won before them. The handicraft and skill displayed 
 in the buildings and sculptors of the long-lost cities of 
 Nineveh, Babylon, and Troy, have descended to the 
 present time. In nature's economy, no human labor is 
 altogether lost. Some remnant of useful effect contin- 
 ues to reward the race, if not the individual. 
 
 The mere material wealth bequeathed to us by our 
 forefathers forms but an insignificant item in the sum 
 of our inheritance. Our birthright is made up of some- 
 thing far more imperishable. It consists of the sum of 
 the useful effects of human skill and labor. These ef- 
 fects were not transmitted by learning, but by teaching 
 and example. One generation taught another, and thus 
 
I6O OUR BIRTHRIGHT. 
 
 art and handicraft, the knowledge of mechanical appli- 
 ances and materials, continued to be preserved. The 
 labors and efforts of former generations were thus trans- 
 mitted by father to son ; and they continue to form the 
 natural heritage of the human race one of the most 
 important instruments of civilization. 
 
 Our birthright, therefore, consists in the useful effects 
 of the labors of our forefathers ; but we cannot enjoy 
 them unless we ourselves take part in the work. All 
 must labor, either with hand or head. Without work, 
 life is worthless ; it becomes a mere state of moral 
 coma. We do not mean merely physical work. There 
 is a great deal of higher work the work of action and 
 endurance, of trial and patience, of enterprise and phi- 
 lanthropy, of spreading truth and civilization, of dimin- 
 ishing suffering and relieving the poor, of helping the 
 weak, and enabling them to help themselves. 
 
 " A noble heart," says Barrow, " will disdain to sub- 
 sist, like a drone, upon others' labors ; like a vermin to 
 filch its food out of the public granary ; or, like a shark, 
 to prey upon the lesser fry ; but it will rather outdo his 
 private obligations to other men's care and toil, by con- 
 siderable service and beneficence to the public ; for 
 there is no calling of any sort, from the sceptre to the 
 spade, the management whereof, with any good suc- 
 cess, any credit, any satisfaction, doth not demand 
 much work of the head, or of the hands, or of both." 
 
RESULTS OF LABOR. l6l 
 
 Labor is not only a necessity, but it is also a pleas- 
 ure. What would otherwise be a curse, by the consti- 
 tution of our physical system becomes a blessing. Our 
 life is a conflict with nature in some respects, but it is 
 also a cooperation with nature in others. The sun, the 
 air, and the earth are constantly abstracting from us 
 our vital forces. Hence we eat and drink for nourish- 
 ment, and clothe ourselves for warmth. 
 
 Nature works with us. She provides the earth which 
 we furrow j she grows and ripens the seeds that we 
 sow and gather. She furnishes, with the help of hu- 
 man labor, the wool that we spin and the food that we 
 eat. And it ought never to be forgotten, that however 
 rich or poor we may be, all that we eat, all that we are 
 clothed with, all that shelters us, from the palace to the 
 cottage, is the result of labor. 
 
 Men cooperate with each other for the mutual suste- 
 nance of all. The husbandman tills the ground and 
 provides food ; the manufacturer weaves tissues, which 
 the tailor and seamstress make into clothes; the mason 
 and the bricklayer build the houses in which we enjoy 
 household life. Numbers of workmen thus contribute 
 and help to create the general result. 
 
 Labor and skill applied to the vulgarest things invest 
 them at once with precious value. Labor is indeed the 
 life of humanity ; take it away, banish it, and the race 
 ii 
 
l62 RESULTS OF LABOR. 
 
 of Adam were at once stricken with death. " He that 
 will not work," said St. Paul, "neither shall he eat; " 
 and the apostle glorified himself in that he had labored 
 with his own hands, and had not been chargeable to 
 any man. 
 
 There is a well-known story of an old farmer calling 
 his three idle sons around him when on his death-bed, 
 to impart to them an important secret. " My sons," 
 said he, " a great treasure lies hid in the estate which 
 I am about to leave to you." The old man gasped. 
 " Where is it hid ?" exclaimed the sons in a breath. 
 " I am about to tell you," said the old man ; "you will 
 have to dig for it "but his breath failed him be- 
 fore he could impart the weighty secret ; and he died. 
 Forthwith the sons set to work with spade and mattock 
 upon the long neglected fields, and they turned up 
 every sod and clod upon the estate. They discovered 
 no treasure, but they learnt to work : and when the 
 fields were sown, and the harvests came, lo ! the yield 
 was prodigious, in consequence of the thorough tillage 
 which they had undergone. Then it was that they dis- 
 covered the treasure concealed in the estate, of which 
 their wise old father had advised them. 
 
 Labor is at once a burden, a chastisement, an honor, 
 and a pleasure. It may be identified with poverty, but 
 there is also glory in it. It bears witness, at the same 
 
NECESSITY FOR LABOR. 163 
 
 time, to our natural wants and to our manifold needs. 
 What were man, what were life, what were civilization, 
 without labor ? All that is great in man comes of labor ; 
 greatness in art, in literature, in science. Knowl- 
 
 o 7 ' 
 
 edge " the wing wherewith we fly to heaven " is 
 only acquired through labor. Genius is but a capabil- 
 ity of laboring intensely : it is the power of making 
 great and sustained efforts. Labor may be a chastise- 
 ment, but it is indeed a glorious one. It is worship, 
 duty, praise, and immortality, for those who labor 
 with the highest aims, and for the purest purposes. 
 
 There are many who murmur and complain at the 
 law of labor under which we live, without reflecting that 
 obedience to it is not only in conformity with the Di- 
 vine will, but also necessary for the development of 
 intelligence, and for the thorough enjoyment of our 
 common nature. Of all wretched men, surely the idle 
 are the most so ; those whose life is barren of utility, 
 who have nothing to do except to gratify their senses. 
 Are not such men the most querulous, miserable, and 
 dissatisfied of all, constantly in a state of ennui, alike 
 useless to themselves and to others mere cumberers 
 of the earth, who when removed are missed by none, 
 
 % 
 
 and whom none regret ? Most wretched and ignoble 
 lot, indeed, is the lot of the idlers. 
 
 Who have helped the world onward so much as the 
 
164 INDUSTRY AND INTELLECT. 
 
 workers ; men who have had to work for necessity or 
 from choice ? All that we call progress civilization, 
 well-being, and prosperity depends upon industry, 
 diligently applied, from the culture of a barley-stalk 
 to the construction of a steamship, from the stitching 
 of a collar to the sculpturing of " the statue that en- 
 chants the world." 
 
 All useful and beautiful thoughts, in like manner, are 
 the issue of labor, of study, of observation, of research, 
 of diligent elaboration. The noblest poem cannot be 
 elaborated, and send down its undying strains into the 
 future, without steady and painstaking labor. No 
 great work has ever been done "at a heat." It is the 
 result of repeated efforts, and often of many failures. 
 One generation begins, and another continues the 
 present cooperating with the past. Thus, the Parthe- 
 non began with a mud-hut ; the Last Judgment with a 
 few scratches on the sand. It is the same with indi- 
 viduals of the race ; they begin with abortive efforts, 
 which, by means of perseverance, lead to successful 
 issues. 
 
 The history of industry is uniform in the character of 
 its illustrations. Industry enables the poorest man to 
 achieve honor, if not distinction. The greatest names 
 in the history of art, literature, and science, are those 
 of laboring men. A working instrument-maker gave us 
 
THRIFT AND CIVILIZATION. 165 
 
 the steam-engine ; a barber, the spinning-machine ; a 
 weaver, the mule ; a pitman perfected the locomotive i 
 and working men of all grades have, one after an- 
 other, added to the triumphs of mechanical skill. 
 
 By the working man, we do not mean merely the 
 man who labors with his muscles and sinews. A 
 horse can do this. But he is preeminently the work- 
 ing man who works with his brain also, and whose 
 whole physical system is under the influence of his 
 higher faculties. The man who paints a picture, who 
 writes a book, who makes a law, who creates a poem, 
 is a working man of the highest order, not so neces- 
 sary to the physical sustainment of the community as 
 the ploughman or the shepherd ; but not less import- 
 ant as providing for society its highest intellectual 
 nourishment. 
 
 Having said so much of the importance and the 
 necessity of industry, let us see what uses are made 
 of the advantages derivable from it. It is clear that 
 man would have continued uncivilized but for the ac- 
 cumulations of savings made by his forefathers, the 
 savings of skill, of art, of invention, and of intellectual 
 culture. 
 
 It is the savings of the world that have made the 
 civilization of the world. Savings are the result of 
 labor ; and it is only when laborers begin to save, that 
 
166 THRIFTY INDUSTRY. 
 
 the results of civilization accumulate. We have said 
 that thrift began with civilization : we might almost 
 have said that thrift produced civilization. Thrift pro- 
 duces capital ; and capital is the conserved result of 
 labor. The capitalist is merely a man who does not 
 spend all that is earned by work. 
 
 But thrift is not a natural instinct. It is an acquired 
 principle of conduct. It involves self-denial the de- 
 nial of present enjoyment for future good the subor- 
 dination of animal appetite to reason, forethought, and 
 prudence. It works for to-day, but also provides for 
 to-morrow. It invests the capital it has saved, and 
 makes provision for the future. 
 
 " Man's right of seeing the future," says Mr. Edward 
 Denison, " which is conferred on him by reason, has 
 attached to it the duty of providing for that future ; 
 and our language bears witness to this truth by using, 
 as expressive of active precaution against future want, 
 a word which in its radical meaning implies only a 
 passive foreknowledge of the same. Whenever we 
 speak of the virtue of providence, we assume that fore- 
 warned is fore-armed. To know the future is no vir- 
 tue, but it is the greatest of virtues to prepare for 
 it." J 
 
 But a large proportion of men do not provide for the 
 
 1 Letters of the late Edward Denison. 
 
THRIFTY INDUSTRY. l6/ 
 
 future. They do not remember the past. They think 
 only of the present. They preserve nothing. They 
 spend all that they earn. They do not provide for 
 themselves : they do not provide for their families. 
 They may make high wages, but eat and drink the 
 whole of what they earn. Such people are constantly 
 poor, and hanging on the verge of destitution. 
 
 It is the same with nations. The nations which con- 
 sume all that they produce, without leaving a store for 
 future production, have no capital. Like thriftless in- 
 dividuals, they live from hand to mouth, and are always 
 poor and miserable. Nations that have no capital, 
 have no commerce. They have no accumulations to 
 dispose of ; hence they have no ships, no sailors, no 
 docks, no harbors, no canals, and no railways. Thrifty 
 industry lies at the root of the civilization of the world. 
 
 Look at Spain. There, the richest soil is the least 
 productive. Along the banks of the Guadalquivir, 
 where once twelve thousand villages existed, there are 
 now not eight hundred ; and they are full of beggars. 
 A Spanish proverb says, " El cielo y suelo es bueno, el 
 entresuelo malo " The sky is good, the earth is 
 good ; that only is bad which lies between the sky and 
 the earth. Continuous effort, or patient labor, is for 
 the Spaniard an insupportable thing. Half through 
 indolence, half through pride, he cannot bend to work. 
 
168 THRIFTY ECONOMY. 
 
 A Spaniard will blush to work ; he will not blush to 
 beg ! l 
 
 It is in this way that society mainly consists of two 
 classes the savers and the wasters, the provident and 
 the improvident, the thrifty and the thriftless, the 
 Haves and the Have-nots. 
 
 The men who economize by means of labor become 
 the owners of capital which sets other labor in motion. 
 Capital accumulates in their hands, and they employ 
 other laborers to work for them. Thus trade and com- 
 merce begin. 
 
 The thrifty build houses, warehouses, and mills. 
 They fit manufactories with tools and machines. They 
 build ships, and send them to various parts of the 
 world. They put their capital together, and build 
 railroads, harbors, and docks. They open up mines 
 of coal, iron, and copper ; and erect pumping engines 
 to keep them clear of water. They employ laborers 
 to work the mines, and thus give rise to an immense 
 amount of employment. 
 
 All this is the result of thrift. It is the result of 
 economizing money, and employing it for beneficial 
 purposes. The thriftless man has no share in the 
 progress of the world. He spends all that he gets, 
 and can give no help to anybody. No matter how 
 
 1 EUGENE Porrou Spain and its People. 
 
HABITS OF THRIFT. 169 
 
 much money he makes, his position is not in any re- 
 spect raised. He husbands none of his resources. He 
 is always calling for help. He is, in fact, the born 
 thrall and slave of the thrifty. 
 
 HABITS OF THRIFT. 
 
 " Die Hauptsache ist dass man lerne sich selbst zu beherrschen." [The great 
 matter is to learn to rule one's self.] Goethe. 
 
 " Most men work for the present, a few for the future. The wise work for 
 both for the future in the pres|nt, and for the present in the future." Guesses 
 at Truth. 
 
 " The secret of all success is to know how to deny yourself. ... If you once 
 learn to get the whip-hand of yourself, that is the best educator. Prove to me 
 that you can control yourself, and I '11 say you 're an educated man ; and with- 
 out this, all other education is good for next to nothing." Mrs. Oliphant, 
 
 "All the world cries, ' Where is the man who will save us ? We want a man ! 
 Don't look so far for this man. You have him at hand. This man it is you, 
 it is I, it is each one of us ! . . . How to constitute one's self a man? Nothing 
 harder, if one knows not how to will it; nothing easier, if one wills it." Alex- 
 andre Dumas. 
 
 COMPETENCE and comfort lie within the reach of 
 most people, were they to take the adequate means to 
 secure and enjoy them. Men who are paid good wages 
 might also become capitalists, and take their fair share 
 in the improvement and well-being of the world. But 
 it is only by the exercise of labor, energy, honesty, and 
 thrift, that they can advance their own position or that 
 of their class. 
 
 Society at present suffers far more from waste of 
 money than from want of money. It is easier to make 
 
I/O WORKMEN AND CAPITAL. 
 
 money than to know how to spend it. It is not what a 
 man gets that constitutes his wealth, but his manner of 
 spending and economizing. And when a man obtains 
 by his labor more than enough for his personal and 
 family wants, and can lay by a little store of savings 
 besides, he unquestionably possesses the elements of 
 social well-being. The savings may amount to little, 
 but they may be sufficient to make him independent. 
 
 There is no reason why the highly-paid workman of 
 to-day may not save a store of capital. It is merely a 
 matter of self-denial and private economy. Indeed, 
 the principal industrial leaders of to-day consist, for the 
 most part, of men who have sprung directly from the 
 ranks. It is the accumulation of experience and skill 
 that makes the difference between the workman and 
 the 720-workman ; and it depends upon the workman 
 himself whether he will save his capital or waste it. If 
 he save it, he will always find that he has sufficient op- 
 portunities for employing it profitably and usefully. 
 
 Thrift of Time is equal to thrift of money. Franklin 
 said, " Time is gold." If one wishes to earn money, 
 it may be done by the proper use of time. But time 
 may also be spent in doing many good and noble ac- 
 tions. It may be spent in learning, in study, in art, in 
 science, in literature. Time can be economized by sys- 
 tem. System is an arrangement to secure certain ends, 
 
HABITS OF ECONOMY. I /I 
 
 so that no time may be lost in accomplishing them. 
 Every business man must be systematic and orderly. 
 So must every housewife. There must be a place for 
 everything, and everything in its place. There must 
 also be a time for everything, and everything must be 
 done in time. 
 
 It is not necessary to show that economy is useful. 
 Nobody denies that thrift may be practised. We see 
 numerous examples of it. What many men have al- 
 ready done, all other men may do. Nor is thrift a pain- 
 ful virtue. On the contrary, it enables us to avoid 
 much contempt and many indignities. It requires us 
 to deny ourselves, but not to abstain from any proper 
 enjoyment. It provides many honest pleasures, of 
 which thriftlessness and extravagance deprive us. 
 
 Thrift does not require superior courage, nor supe- 
 rior intellect, nor any superhuman virtue. It merely 
 requires common sense, and the power of resisting self- 
 ish enjoyments. In fact, thrift is merely common sense 
 in every-day working action. It needs no fervent res- 
 olution, but only a little patient self-denial. BEGIN is 
 its device ! The more the habit of thrift is practised, 
 the easier it becomes ; and the sooner it compensates 
 the self-denier for the sacrifices which it has imposed. 
 
 The question may be asked, Is it possible for a 
 man working for small wages to save anything, and lay 
 
SELF-INDULGENCE. 
 
 it by in a savings bank, when he requires every penny 
 for the maintenance of his family ? But the fact re- 
 mains, that it is done by many industrious and sober 
 men ; that they do deny themselves, and put their 
 spare earnings into savings banks, and the other recep- 
 tacles provided for poor men's savings. And if some 
 can do this, all may do it under similar circumstances, 
 without depriving themselves of any genuine pleas- 
 ure, or any real enjoyment. 
 
 How intensely selfish it is for a person in the receipt 
 of good pay to spend everything upon himself, or, if 
 he has a family, to spend his whole earnings from week 
 to week, and lay nothing by. When we hear that a 
 man, who has been in the receipt of a good salary, has 
 died and left nothing behind him that he has left his 
 wife and family destitute left them to chance to 
 live or perish anywhere, we cannot but regard it as 
 the most selfish thriftlessness. And yet, comparatively 
 little is thought of such cases. Perhaps the hat goes 
 round. Subscriptions may produce something per- 
 haps nothing ; and the ruined remnants of the unhappy 
 family sink into poverty and destitution. 
 
 Yet the merest prudence would, to a great extent, 
 have obviated this result. The curtailment of any sen- 
 sual and selfish enjoyment of a glass of beer or a 
 plug of tobacco would enable a man, in the course 
 
RESULTS OF THRIFTLESSNESS. 
 
 of years, to save at least something for others, instead 
 of wasting it on himself. It is, in fact, the absolute 
 duty of the poorest man to provide, in however slight a 
 degree, for the support of himself and his family in the 
 season of sickness and helplessness which often comes 
 upon men when they least expect such a visitation. 
 
 Comparatively few people can be rich ; but most 
 have it in their power to acquire, by industry and econ- 
 omy, sufficient to meet their personal wants. They 
 may even become the possessors of savings sufficient 
 to secure them against penury and poverty in their old 
 age. It is not, however, the want of opportunity, but 
 the want of will that stands in the way of economy. 
 Men may labor unceasingly with hand or head ; but 
 they cannot abstain from spending too freely, and liv- 
 ing too highly. 
 
 The majority prefer the enjoyment of pleasure to 
 the practice of self-denial. With the mass of men, the 
 animal is paramount. They often spend all that they 
 earn. But it is not merely the working people who 
 are spendthrifts. We hear of men who for years have 
 been earning and spending hundreds and thousands a 
 year, who suddenly die, leaving their children penni- 
 less. Everybody knows of such cases. At their death, 
 the very furniture of the house they have lived in be- 
 longs to others. It is sold to pay their funeral ex- 
 
1/4 USES OF SAVED MONEY. 
 
 penses and the debts which they have incurred during 
 their thriftless lifetime. 
 
 Money represents a multitude of objects without 
 value, or without real utility ; but it also represents 
 something much more precious, and that is independ- 
 ence. In this light it is of great moral importance. 
 
 As a guarantee of independence, the modest and 
 plebeian quality of economy is at once ennobled and 
 raised to the rank of one of the most meritorious of 
 virtues. " Never treat money affairs with levity," said 
 Bulwer ; " Money is Character." Some of man's best 
 qualities depend upon the right use of money, such 
 as his generosity, benevolence, justice, honesty, and 
 forethought. Many of his worst qualities also origi- 
 nate in the bad use of money, such as greed, miser- 
 liness, injustice, extravagance, and improvidence. 
 
 No class ever accomplished anything that lived from 
 hand to mouth. People who spend all that they earn, 
 are ever hanging on the brink of destitution. They 
 must necessarily be weak and impotent the slaves 
 of time and circumstance. They keep themselves 
 poor. They lose self-respect, as well as the respect 
 of others. It is impossible that they can be free and 
 independent. To be thriftless is enough to deprive 
 one of all manly spirit and virtue. 
 
 But a man with something saved, no matter how 
 
USES OF SAVED MONEY. 175 
 
 little, is in a different position. The little capital he 
 has stored up is always a source of power. He is no 
 longer the sport of time and fate. He can boldly look 
 the world in the face. He is, in a manner, his own 
 .master. He can dictate his own terms. He can 
 neither be bought nor sold. He can look forward with 
 cheerfulness to an old age of comfort and happiness. 
 
 As men become wise and thoughtful, they generally 
 become provident and frugal. A thoughtless man, 
 like a savage, spends as he gets, thinking nothing of 
 to-morrow, of the time of adversity, or of the claims 
 of those whom he has made dependent on him. But a 
 wise man thinks of the future j he prepares in good 
 time for the evil day that may come upon him and his 
 family ; and he provides carefully for those who are 
 near and dear to him. 
 
 What a serious responsibility does the man incur 
 who marries ! Not many seriously think of this re- 
 sponsibility. Perhaps this is wisely ordered. For, 
 much serious thinking might end in the avoidance of 
 married life and its responsibilities. But, once mar- 
 ried, a man ought forthwith to determine that, so far 
 as his own efforts are concerned, want shall never enter 
 his household ; and that his children shall not, in the 
 event of his being removed from the scene of life and 
 labor, be left a burden upon society. 
 
176 EXTRAVAGANT LIVING. 
 
 Economy with this object is an important duty. 
 
 
 
 Without economy, no man can be just no man can 
 be honest. Improvidence is cruelty to women and 
 children ; though the cruelty is born of ignorance. A 
 father spends his surplus means in drink, providing 
 little, and saving nothing ; and then he dies, leaving his 
 destitute family his lifelong victims. Can any form of 
 cruelty surpass this ? Yet this reckless course is pur- 
 sued to a large extent among every class. The middle 
 and upper classes are equally guilty with the lower 
 class. They live beyond their means. They live ex- 
 travagantly. They are ambitious of glare and glitter 
 frivolity and pleasure. They struggle to be rich, that 
 they may have the means of spending, of drinking 
 rich wines, and giving good dinners. 
 
 When Mr. Hume said in the House of Commons, 
 some years ago, that the tone of living in England was 
 altogether too high, his observation was followed with 
 " loud laughter." Yet his remark was perfectly true. 
 It is far more true now than it was then. Thinking 
 people believe that life is now too fast, and that we are 
 living at high-pressure. In short, we live extrava- 
 gantly. We live beyond our means. -We throw away 
 our earnings, and often throw our lives after them. 
 
 Many persons are diligent enough in making money, 
 but do not know how to economize it, or how to 
 
BARGAIN-BUYING. 177 
 
 spend it. They have sufficient skill and industry to do 
 the one, but they want the necessary wisdom to do the 
 other. The temporary passion for enjoyment seizes us, 
 and we give way to it without regard to consequences. 
 And yet it may be merely the result of forgetfulness, 
 and might be easily controlled by firmness of will, and 
 by Energetic resolution to avoid the occasional causes 
 of expenditure for the future. 
 
 The habit of saving arises, for the most part, in the 
 desire to ameliorate our social condition, as well as to 
 ameliorate the condition of those who are dependent 
 upon us. It dispenses with everything which is not 
 essential, and avoids all methods of living that are 
 wasteful and extravagant. A purchase made at the 
 lowest price will be dear, if it be a superfluity. Little 
 expenses lead to great. Buying things that are not 
 wanted soon accustoms us to prodigality in other re- 
 spects. 
 
 Cicero said, " Not to have a mania for buying, is 
 to possess a revenue." Many are carried away by the 
 habit of bargain-buying. " Here is something won- 
 derfully cheap : let us buy it." " Have you any use 
 for it ? " " No, not at present ; but it is sure to come in 
 useful, some time." Fashion runs in this habit of buy- 
 ing. Some buy old china * as much as will furnish a 
 china-shop. Others buy old pictures old furniture 
 
 12 
 
178 THRIFT AND UNTHRIFT. 
 
 all great bargains ! There would be little harm in 
 buying these old things, if they were not so often 
 bought at the expense of the connoisseur's creditors. 
 Horace Walpole once said, " I hope that there will 
 not be another sale, for I have not an inch of room 
 nor a farthing left." 
 
 Men must prepare in youth and in middle age the 
 means of enjoying old age pleasantly and happily. 
 There can be nothing more distressing than to see an 
 old man who has spent the greater part of his life in 
 well-paid-for labor, reduced to the necessity of begging 
 for bread, and relying entirely on the commiseration of 
 his neighbors, or upon the bounty of strangers. Such 
 a consideration as this should inspire men in early life 
 with a determination to work and to save, for the ben- 
 efit of themselves and their families in later years. 
 
 It is, in fact, in youth that economy should be prac- 
 tised, and in old age that men should dispense liber- 
 ally, provided they do not exceed their income. The 
 young man has a long future before him, during which 
 he may exercise the principles of economy ; whilst the 
 other is reaching the end of his career, and can carry 
 nothing out of the world with him. 
 
 This, however, is not the usual practice. The young 
 man now spends, or desires to spend, quite as liberally, 
 and often much more liberally, than his father, who 
 
JOHNSON ON ECONOMY. 179 
 
 is about to end his career. He begins life where his 
 father left off. He spends more than his father did at 
 his age, and soon finds himself up to his ears in debt. 
 To satisfy his incessant wants, he resorts to unscru- 
 pulous means, and to illicit gains. He tries to make 
 money rapidly ; he speculates, over-trades, and is 
 speedily wound up. Thus he obtains experience ; but 
 it is the result, not of well-doing, but of ill-doing. 
 
 Socrates recommends fathers of families to observe 
 the practice of their thrifty neighbors of those who 
 spend their means to the best advantage, and to 
 profit by their example. Thrift is essentially practical, 
 and can best be taught by facts. Two men earn, say, 
 two dollars a day. They are in precisely the same con^ 
 dition as respects family living, and expenditure. Yet 
 the one says he cannot save, and does not ; while the 
 other says he can save, and regularly deposits part of 
 his savings in a savings bank, and eventually becomes 
 a capitalist. 
 
 Samuel Johnson fully knew the straits of poverty. 
 He once signed his name Impransus, or Dinnerless. 
 He had walked the streets with Savage, not knowing 
 where to lay his head at night. Johnson never forgot 
 the poverty through which he passed in his early life, 
 and he was always counselling his friends and readers 
 to avoid it. Like Cicero, he averred that the best 
 
ISO JOHNSON ON ECONOMY. 
 
 source of wealth or well-being was economy. He called 
 it the daughter of Prudence, the sister of Temperance, 
 and the mother of Liberty. 
 
 "Poverty," he. said, "takes away so many means of 
 doing good, and produces so much inability to resist 
 evil, both natural and moral, that it is by all virtuous 
 means to be avoided. Resolve, then, not to be poor ; 
 whatever you have, spend less. Frugality is not only 
 the basis of quiet, but of beneficence. No man can 
 help others who wants help himself ; we must have 
 enough before we have to spare." 
 
 And again he said, " Poverty is a great enemy to 
 human happiness. It certainly destroys liberty, and 
 it makes some virtues impracticable, and others ex- 
 tremely difficult. ... All to whom want is terrible, 
 upon whatever principle, ought to think themselves 
 obliged to learn the sage maxims of our parsimonious 
 ancestors, and attain the salutary arts of contracting 
 expense for without economy none can be rich, and 
 with it few can be poor." 
 
 When economy is looked upon as a thing that must 
 be practised, it will never be felt as a burden ; and 
 those who have not before observed it, will be as- 
 tonished to find what a few dimes or quarters laid 
 aside weekly, will do towards securing moral elevation, 
 mental culture, and personal independence. 
 
SELF-RESPECT. l8l 
 
 There is a dignity in every attempt to economize. 
 Its very practice is improving. It indicates self-denial, 
 and imparts strength to the character. It produces a 
 well-regulated mind. It fosters temperance. It is 
 based on forethought. It makes prudence the domi- 
 nating characteristic. It gives virtue the mastery over 
 self-indulgence. Above all, it secures comfort, drives 
 away care, and dispels many vexations and anxieties 
 which might otherwise prey upon us. 
 
 Some will say, " It can't be done." But everybody 
 can do something. " It can't " is the ruin of men and 
 of nations. In fact, there is no greater cant that can't. 
 Take an instance. A ten-cent cigar a day is equal to 
 $36.50 a year. This sum will insure a man's life for 
 $2,000, payable at death. The man who spends twenty 
 cents a day, uselessly squanders in fifty years nearly 
 ten thousand dollars. 
 
 A master recommended one of his workmen to " lay 
 by something for a rainy day." Shortly after, the 
 master asked the man how much he had added to his 
 store. " Faith, nothing at all," said he j "I did as you 
 bid me ; but it rained very hard yesterday, and it all 
 went in drink ! ' 
 
 That a man should maintain himself and his family 
 without the help of others, is due to his sense of self- 
 respect. Every genuine, self-helping man ought to 
 
1 82 SELF-RESPECT. 
 
 respect himself. He is the centre of his own little 
 world. His personal loves, likings, experiences, hopes, 
 and fears, how important they are to him, although 
 of little consequence to others. They affect his hap- 
 piness, his daily life, and his whole being as a man. 
 He cannot therefore but feel interested, deeply inter- 
 ested in all that concerns himself. 
 
 To do justice, a man must think well not only of 
 himself, but of the duties which he owes to others. 
 He must not aim too low, but regard man as created 
 " a little lower than the angels." Let him think of 
 his high destiny of the eternal interests in which he 
 has a part of the great scheme of nature and provi- 
 dence of the intellect with which he has been en- 
 dowed of the power of loving conferred upon him 
 of the home on earth provided for him ; and he will 
 cease to think meanly of himself. The poorest human 
 being: is the centre of two eternities the Creator 
 
 o 
 
 o'ershadowing all. 
 
 Hence, let every man respect himself, his body, 
 his mind, his character. Self-respect, originating in 
 self-love, instigates the first step of improvement. It 
 stimulates a man to rise, to look upward, to develop 
 his intelligence, to improve his condition. Self-respect 
 is the root of most of the virtues of cleanliness, 
 chastity, reverence, honesty, sobriety. To think 
 
SELF-HELP. 183 
 
 meanly of one's self is to sink ; sometimes to descend 
 a precipice at the bottom of which is infamy. 
 
 Every man can help himself to some extent. We 
 are not mere straws thrown upon the current to mark 
 its course ; but possessed of freedom of action, en- 
 dowed with power to stem the waves and rise above 
 them, each marking out a course for himself. We can 
 each elevate ourselves in the scale of moral being. We 
 can cherish pure thoughts. We can perform good ac- 
 tions. We can live soberly and frugally. We can pro- 
 vide against the evil day. We can read good books, 
 listen to wise teachers, and place ourselves under the 
 divinest influences on earth. We can live for the high- 
 est purposes, and with the highest aims in view. 
 
 " Self-love and social are the same," says one of our 
 poets. The man who improves himself, improves the 
 world. He adds one more true man to the mass. 
 And the mass being made up of individuals, it is clear 
 that were each to improve himself, the result would 
 be the improvement of the whole. Social advance- 
 ment is the consequence of individual advancement. 
 The whole cannot be pure, unless the individuals com- 
 posing it are pure. Society at large is but the reflex 
 of individual conditions. All this is but the repetition 
 of a truism, but truisms have often to be repeated to 
 make their full impression. 
 
184 UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 
 
 The sum and substance of our remarks is this : In 
 all the individual reforms or improvements that we 
 desire, we must begin with ourselves. We must ex- 
 hibit our gospel in our own life. We must teach by 
 our own example. If we would have others elevated, 
 we must elevate ourselves. Each man can exhibit the 
 results in his own person. He can begin with self- 
 respect. 
 
 The uncertainty of life is a strong inducement to 
 provide against the evil day. To do this is a moral 
 and social, as well as a religious duty. " He that pro- 
 videth not for his own, and especially for those of his 
 own household, hath denied the faith, and is worse 
 than an infidel." 
 
 The uncertainty of life is proverbially true. The 
 strongest and healthiest man may be stricken down 
 in a moment, by accident or disease. If we take hu- 
 man life in the mass, we cannot fail to recognize the 
 uncertainty of life as much as we do the certainty of 
 death. 
 
 There is a striking passage in Addison's u Vision of 
 Mirza," in which life is pictured as a passage over a 
 bridge of about a hundred arches. A black cloud 
 hangs over each end of the bridge. At the entrance 
 to it there are hidden pitfalls very thickly set, through 
 which throngs disappear, so soon as they have placed 
 
UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 1 85 
 
 their feet upon the bridge. They grow thinner to- 
 wards the centre; they gradually disappear; until at 
 length only a few persons reach the further side, and 
 these also having dropped through the pitfalls, the 
 bridge at its further extremity becomes entirely clear. 
 The description of Addison corresponds with the re- 
 sults of the observations made as to the duration of 
 human life. 
 
 Thus, of a hundred thousand persons born in this 
 country, it has been ascertained that a fourth of them 
 die before they have reached their fifth year ; and one- 
 half before they have reached their fiftieth year. One 
 thousand one hundred will reach their ninetieth year. 
 Sixteen will live to a hundred. And only two persons 
 out of the hundred thousand like the last barks of 
 an innumerable convoy, will reach the advanced and 
 helpless age of a hundred and five years. 
 
 Two things are very obvious, the uncertainty as to 
 the hour of death in individuals, but the regularity and 
 constancy of the circumstances which influence the 
 duration of human life in the aggregate. It is a mat- 
 ter of certainty that the average life of all persons born 
 in this country extends to about forty-five years. This 
 has been proved by a very large number of observa- 
 tions of human life and its duration. 
 
 Equally extensive observations have been made as 
 
1 86 LAWS OF MORTALITY. 
 
 to the average number of persons of various ages who 
 die yearly. It is always the number of the experiments 
 which gives the law of the probability. It is on such 
 observations that the actuary founds his estimates of 
 the mortality that exists at any given period of life. 
 The actuary tells you that he has been guided by the 
 Laws of Mortality. Now the results must be very reg- 
 ular, to justify the actuary in speaking of Mortality as 
 governed by Laws. And yet it is so. 
 
 Indeed, there would seem to be no such thing as 
 chance in the world. Man lives and dies in conformity 
 to a law. A sparrow falls to the ground in obedience 
 to a law. Nay, there are matters in the ordinary trans- 
 actions of life, such as one might suppose were the 
 mere result of chance, which are ascertained to be of 
 remarkable accuracy when taken in the mass. For in- 
 stance, the number of letters put in the post-office 
 without an address ; the number of letters wrongly di- 
 rected ; the number containing money ; the number un- 
 stamped ; continue nearly the same, in relation to the 
 number of letters posted, from one year to another. 
 
 Now, it is the business of man to understand the 
 laws of health, and to provide against their conse- 
 quences, as, for instance, in the matter of sickness, 
 accident, and premature death. We cannot escape 
 the consequences of transgression of the natural laws, 
 
WILL NOBODY HELP US? 
 
 though we may have meant well. We must have done 
 well. The Creator does not alter His laws to accom- 
 modate them to our ignorance. He has furnished us 
 with intelligence, so that we may understand them and 
 act upon them : otherwise we must suffer the conse- 
 quences in inevitable pain and sorrow. 
 
 We often hear the cry raised, " Will nobody help 
 us ? " It is a spiritless, hopeless cry. It is sometimes 
 a cry of revolting meanness, especially when it issues 
 from those who with a little self-denial, sobriety, and 
 thrift, might easily help themselves. 
 
 Many people have yet to learn, that virtue, knowl- 
 edge, freedom, and prosperity must spring from them- 
 selves. Legislation can do very little for them : it 
 cannot make them sober, intelligent, and well-doing. 
 The prime miseries of most men have their origin in 
 causes far removed from acts of the legislature. 
 
 The spendthrift laughs at legislation. The drunkard 
 defies it, and arrogates the right of dispensing with 
 forethought and self-denial, throwing upon others 
 the blame of his ultimate wretchedness. The mob 
 orators, who gather " the millions " about them, are 
 very wide of the mark, when, instead of seeking to 
 train their crowd of hearers to habits of frugality, tem- 
 perance, and self-culture, they encourage them to keep 
 up the cry, " Will nobody help us ? " 
 
188 PROSPEROUS TIMES 
 
 The cry sickens the soul. It shows gross ignorance 
 of the first elements of personal welfare. Help is in 
 men themselves. They were born to help and to ele- 
 vate themselves. They must work out their own salva^ 
 tion. The poorest men have done it : why should not 
 every man do it ? The brave, upward spirit ever con- 
 quers. 
 
 The number of well-paid workmen in this country 
 has become very large, who might easily save and 
 economize, to the improvement of their moral well- 
 being, of their respectability and independence, and of 
 their status in society as men and citizens. They are 
 improvident and thriftless to an extent which proves 
 not less hurtful to their personal happiness and domes- 
 tic comfort, than it is injurious to the society of which 
 they form so important a part. 
 
 In " prosperous times " they spend their gains reck- 
 lessly, and when adverse times come, they are at once 
 plunged in misery. Money is not used, but abused j 
 and when wage-earning people should be providing 
 against old age, or for the wants of a growing family, 
 they are, in too many cases, feeding folly, dissipation, 
 and vice. Let no one say that this is an exaggerated 
 picture. It is enough to look round in any neighbor- 
 hood, and see how much is spent and how little is 
 saved ; what a large proportion of earnings goes to 
 
THE LEAST PROSPEROUS. 189 
 
 the beershop, and how little to the savings bank or 
 the benefit society. 
 
 " Prosperous times ' are very often the least pros- 
 perous of all times. In prosperous times, mills are 
 working full time ; men, women, and children are paid 
 high wages ; warehouses are emptied and filed j goods 
 are manufactured and exported ; carts full of produce 
 pass along the streets ; immense freight trains run 
 along the railways, and heavily-laden ships leave our 
 shores daily for foreign ports, full of the products of 
 our industry. Everybody seems to be becoming richer 
 and more prosperous. But we do not think of whether 
 men and women* are becoming wiser, better trained, 
 less self-indulgent, more religiously disposed, or liv- 
 ing for any higher purpose than the satisfaction of the 
 animal appetite. 
 
 If this apparent prosperity be closely examined, it 
 will be found that expenditure is increasing in all di- 
 rections. There are demands for higher wages ; and 
 the higher wages, when obtained, are spent as soon as 
 earned. Intemperate habits are formed, and, once 
 formed, the habit of intemperance continues. Increased 
 wages, instead of being saved, are for the most part 
 spent. 
 
 Thus, when a population is thoughtless and improv- 
 ident, no kind of material prosperity will benefit them. 
 
NATIONAL PROSPERITY. 
 
 Unless they exercise forethought and economy they 
 will alternately be in a state of "hunger and burst." 
 When trade falls off, as it usually does after exceptional 
 prosperity, they will not be comforted by the thought 
 of what they might have saved, had it ever occurred to 
 them that the "prosperous times' might not prove 
 permanent. 
 
 If man's chief end were to manufacture cloth, silk, 
 cotton, hardware, toys, and china ; to cultivate land, 
 grow corn, and graze cattle ; to live for mere money 
 profit, and hoard or spend, as the case might be, we 
 might then congratulate ourselves upon our National 
 Prosperity. But is this the chief end of man ? Has he 
 not faculties, affections, and sympathies, besides muscu- 
 lar organs ? Has not his mind and heart certain claims, 
 as well as his mouth and his back ? Has he not a soul 
 as well as a stomach ? And ought not "prosperity" to 
 include the improvement and well-being of his morals 
 and intellect as well as of his bones and muscles ? 
 
 Mere money is no indication of prosperity. A man's 
 nature may remain the same. It may even grow more 
 stunted and deformed, while he is doubling his expen- 
 diture, or adding cent, per cent, to his hoards yearly. 
 It is the same with the mass. The increase of their 
 gains may merely furnish them with increased means 
 for gratifying animal indulgences, unless their moral 
 
NATIONAL PROSPERITY. IQI 
 
 character keeps pace with their physical advancement. 
 Double the gains of an uneducated, overworked man, 
 in a time of prosperity, and what is the result ? Simply 
 that you have furnished him with the means of eating 
 and drinking more ! Thus, not even the material well- 
 being of the population is secured by that condition of 
 things which is defined by political economists as " Na- 
 tional Prosperity." And so long as the moral elements 
 of the question are ignored, this kind of " prosperity ' 
 is, we believe, calculated to produce far more mischiev- 
 ous results than good. It is knowledge and virtue 
 alone that can confer dignity on a man's life; and the 
 growth of such qualities in a nation are the only true 
 marks of its real prosperity; not the infinite manufac- 
 ture and sale of cotton prints, toys, hardware, and 
 crockery. 
 
 In making the preceding observations we do not in 
 the least advocate the formation of miserly, penurious 
 habits ; for we hate the scrub, the miser. All that 
 we contend for is, that man should provide for the 
 future, that they should provide during good times 
 for the bad times which almost invariably follow them, 
 that they should layby a store of savings as a break- 
 water against want, and make sure of a little fund 
 which may maintain them in old age, secure their self- 
 respect, and add to their personal comfort and social 
 
METHODS OF ECONOMY. 
 
 well-being. Thrift is not in any way connected with 
 avarice, usury, greed, or selfishness. It is, in fact, the 
 very reverse of these disgusting dispositions It means 
 economy for the purpose of securing independence. 
 Thrift requires that money should be used and not 
 abused that it should be honestly earned and eco- 
 nomically employed 
 
 " Not for to put it in a hedge, 
 Not for a train attendant, 
 But for the glorious privilege 
 Of being Independent." 
 
 METHODS OF ECONOMY. 
 
 " It was with profound wisdom that the Romans called by the same name cour- 
 age and virtue. There is in fact no virtue, properly so called, without victory 
 over ourselves : and what costs us nothing, is worth nothing." De Maistre. 
 
 " Almost all the advantages which man possesses above the inferior animals', 
 arise from his power of acting in combination with his fellows ; and of accom- 
 plishing by the united efforts of numbers what could not be accomplished by the 
 detached efforts of individuals." /. S. Mill. 
 
 " For the future, our main security will be in the wider diffusion of Property, 
 and in all such measures as will facilitate this result. With the possession of prop- 
 erty will come Conservative instincts, and disinclination for rash and reckless 
 schemes. . . . We trust much, therefore, to the rural population becoming Pro- 
 prietors, and to the urban population becoming Capitalists." W. R. Greg. 
 
 THE methods of practicing economy are very simple. 
 Spend less than you earn. That is the first rule. A 
 portion should always be set apart for the future. The 
 person who spends more than he earns, is a fool. The 
 civil law regards the spendthrift as akin to the lunatic, 
 
KEEPING REGULAR ACCOUNT. 193 
 
 and frequently takes from him the management of his 
 own affairs. 
 
 The next rule is to pay ready money, and never, on 
 any account, to run into debt. The person who runs 
 into debt is apt to get cheated ; and if he runs into debt 
 to any extent, he will himself be apt to get disho.nest. 
 " Who pays what he owes, enriches himself." 
 
 The next is, never to anticipate uncertain profits by 
 expending them before they are secured. The profits 
 may never come, and in that case you will have taken 
 upon yourself a load of debt which you may never get 
 rid of. It will sit upon your shoulders like the old 
 man in Sinbad. 
 
 Another method of economy is, to keep a regular ac- 
 count of all that you earn, and of all that you expend. 
 An orderly man will know beforehand what he requires, 
 and will be provided with the necessary means for ob- 
 taining it. Thus his domestic budget will be balanced ; 
 and his expenditure kept within his income. 
 
 John Wesley regularly adopted this course. Al- 
 though he possessed a small income, he always kept 
 his eyes upon the state of his affairs. A year before 
 his death, he wrote with a trembling hand, in his Jour- 
 nal of Expenses ; " For more than eighty-six years I 
 have kept my accounts exactly. I do not care to con- 
 tinue to do so any longer, having the conviction that I 
 
 13 
 
IQ4 GENEROSITY AND FORETHOUGHT. 
 
 economize all that I obtain, and give all that I can, 
 that is to say all that I have." 
 
 Besides these methods of economy, the eye of the 
 master or the mistress is always necessary to see that 
 nothing is lost, that everything is put to its proper use 
 and kept in its proper place, and that all things are 
 done decently and in order. It does no dishonor to 
 even the highest individuals to take a personal interest 
 in their own affairs. And with persons of moderate 
 means, the necessity for the eye of the master over- 
 looking everything, is absolutely necessary for the 
 proper conduct of business. 
 
 It is difficult to fix the precise limits of economy. 
 Bacon says that if a man would live well within his in- 
 come, he ought not to expend more than one-half and 
 save the rest. This is perhaps too exacting ; and Bacon 
 himself did not follow his own advice. What propor- 
 tion of one's income should be expended on rent? 
 That depends upon circumstances. It is at all events 
 better to save too much, than spend too much. One 
 may remedy the first defect, but not so easily the latter. 
 Wherever there is a large family, the more money that 
 is put to one side and saved, the better. 
 
 Economy is necessary to the moderately rich, as well 
 as to the comparatively poor man. Without economy, 
 a man cannot be generous. He cannot take part in 
 
PRUDENT ECONOMY. 195 
 
 the charitable work of the world. If he spends all that 
 he earns, he can help nobody. He cannot properly 
 educate his children, nor put them in the way of start- 
 ing fairly in the business of life. Even the example of 
 Bacon shows that the loftiest intelligence cannot ne- 
 glect thrift without peril. But thousands of witnesses 
 daily testify, that men even of the most moderate intel- 
 ligence, can practise the virtue with success. 
 
 Although the American people are a diligent, hard- 
 working, and generally self-reliant race, trusting to 
 themselves and their own efforts for their sustenance 
 and advancement in the world, they are yet liable to 
 overlook and neglect some of the best practical meth- 
 ods of improving their position, and securing their so- 
 cial well-being. They are not yet sufficiently educated 
 to be temperate, provident, and foreseeing. They live 
 for the present, and are too regardless of the coming 
 time. Men who are husbands and parents, generally 
 think they do their duty if they provide for the hour 
 that is, neglectful of the hour that is to come. Though 
 industrious, they are improvident ; though money-mak- 
 ing, they are spendthrift. They do not exercise fore- 
 thought enough, and are defective in the virtue of pru- 
 dent economy. 
 
 Men of all classes are, as yet, too little influenced by 
 these considerations. They are apt to live beyond their 
 
196 PRUDENT ECONOMY. 
 
 incomes, at all events, to live up to them. The up- 
 per classes live too much for display ; they must keep 
 up their " position in society j " they must have fine 
 houses, horses, and carriages j give good dinners, and 
 drink rich wines ; their ladies must wear costly and gay 
 dresses. Thus the march of improvidence goes on over 
 broken hearts, ruined hopes, and wasted ambitions. 
 
 The vice descends in society, the middle classes 
 strive to ape the patrician orders ; they flourish crests, 
 liveries, and hammercloths ; their daughters must learn 
 "accomplishments" see "society" ride and drive 
 frequent operas and theatres. Display is the rage, 
 ambition rivalling ambition ; and thus the vicious folly 
 rolls on like a tide. The vice again descendso The 
 working classes, too, live up to their means - much 
 smaller means, it is true ; but even when they are able, 
 they are not sufficiently careful to provide against the 
 evil day ; and then only the poorhouse offers its scanty 
 aid to protect them against want. 
 
ELF-MADE 
 
 
SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 "HE biography of every man who has risen to 
 eminence of any kind by his own talent and 
 industry, is a lesson and stimulus to all who 
 read it. Self-made men are living witnesses that God 
 has endowed man with the material and powers neces- 
 sary to accomplish the most desirable fortune and 
 fame, and that it is by no means essential to a man's 
 success or greatness that he has, or has not, the in- 
 herited appliances of aristocratic birth, wealth, and 
 consequent position, "forearming him" for his en- 
 counter with the world. 
 
 The greatest names on the page of history belong to 
 men who have risen from obscure birth, against wealth, 
 and in defiance of what is called disadvantageous 
 position. Bearing in their nature the sacred fire, they 
 have kindled at the breath of the opposing tempest, 
 and by unwearied, undaunted struggle, dawned day by 
 
200 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 day into a broader, stronger, and more beautiful life. 
 Such men, trusting to no fortuitous aids, and owing 
 nothing to chances, have so beaten their pathway up- 
 ward that they could not be thrust down by the acci- 
 dents which disarm and discourage the mere favorite 
 of circumstances. 
 
 It is not the men who have inherited most, except it 
 is in nobility of soul and purpose, who have risen 
 highest; but rather the men with no dower save soul 
 and purpose, who have made fortunate and adverse 
 circumstances alike a spur to goad their steed up the 
 steep and stubborn mount, where 
 
 *' Fame's proud temple shines afar." 
 
 To such men, every possible goal is accomplishable, 
 and honest ambition has no height which genius or 
 talent may tread, which has not felt the impress of 
 their feet. 
 
 The list of men who have risen from obscurity 
 and in some cases poverty to fame and fortune, is a 
 long one, and would occupy more space than can be 
 given within the compass of a reasonable book. 
 
 From a farm to the Presidential chair seems a long 
 distance, but Abraham Lincoln traveled that distance, 
 became President of the United States, and left behind 
 him a name and reputation which will never die. 
 Andrew Johnson began life as a tailor, and subse- 
 
SELF-MADE MEN. 201 
 
 quently rose to the position of chief officer of the 
 nation. George Peabody, when a boy, was an ap- 
 prentice in a country store, and ended as a million- 
 aire, leaving behind him a reputation for philanthropy 
 which will never be forgotten. John Jacob Astor 
 began life as a fur beater, and amassed an immense 
 fortune. A. T. Stewart, from a school teacher, became 
 the owner of the largest dry-goods house in the 
 country, and one of the wealthiest men in the world. 
 Cyrus W. Field was in early life a clerk, and to him, 
 in a great measure, the world is indebted for the suc- 
 cessful completion of the Atlantic cable. Samuel F. 
 B. Morse, from an artist, became the inventor of the 
 electric telegraph. Elihu B. Washburne, when a boy, 
 worked in a printing office, and has risen to a very 
 high position in the government of the nation. Dwight 
 L. Moody, the great evangelist, from an uneducated, 
 humble city missionary in Chicago, has been the 
 means of infusing new life and energy into the Chris- 
 tian church, both in Great Britain and America; and 
 has preached before the most learned and educated 
 men of the day. And the great and illustrious General, 
 and twice President of America, Ulysses S. Grant, 
 began life as a tanner. His career is a marvellous 
 one, and his ability and patriotism have been gener- 
 ously recognized, not only by the American people, 
 
202 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 but by the whole world. Charles Dickens, the great 
 novelist, began life as a newspaper reporter, and his 
 name and fame are now world-wide. Thomas Carlyle, 
 a farmer's son, stands to-day at the head of the literary 
 profession, and is known as "The Chelsea Philoso- 
 pher." His writings and utterances show him to be a 
 far-seeing, acute, and clear-headed observer, and his 
 fame is already honored by all classes of the people. 
 We append a few sketches of prominent men, who 
 have risen from the ranks, and whose lives form noble 
 examples of perseverance under difficulties, and of 
 triumph over all obstacles. 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 
 
 it be true of men that " blood will tell," the suc- 
 cess in life achieved by Elihu B. Washburne, ol 
 Illinois, who was a farmer's boy, a printer's 
 apprentice, who has been a lawyer, statesman, and 
 diplomat, and who is to-day foremost among the men 
 who may claim to be representative Americans, is to 
 i great extent accounted for in advance. His father, 
 Israel Washburne, was a native of Massachusetts, a 
 man of high honor and sterling integrity, who removed 
 to the district of Maine in 1806, and in 1809 settled 
 at Livermore, Oxford County, that State, where he 
 died in September, 1876, at the age of 92 years. Mr. 
 Washburne's mother was a daughter of Samuel Ben- 
 jamin, who descended directly from the Pilgrim 
 Fathers, and who figured prominently in the Revolu- 
 tionary War. 
 
 Mr. Washburne was the third of seven brothers, 
 
20G SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 several of whom have held important positions in the 
 country's service. 
 
 Springing from such stock, Elihu B. Washburne was 
 born at Livermore, in Oxford County, in September, 
 1816. The simple story of his early youth, filled as it 
 is with notes of many vicissitudes, and being as it was 
 a constant struggle, a ceaseless battle to wring hard 
 fare from inhospitable surroundings, is not only most 
 interesting but exceedingly instructive. From his 
 earliest infancy young Elihu was taught to believe that 
 there was no nonsense in this life, and that the best 
 men, unlike the Vicar of Wakefield, never tired of 
 being always wise. His father kept a small country 
 store, and he, as early as his yth year, was taught to 
 " make himself generally useful," gathering chips, 
 carrying wood, picking stones from off the sterile 
 pasture land, driving cows, and doing many other 
 " chores " of the same sort. He went to school a few 
 weeks in winter, and again for a few weeks in summer; 
 but, as may readily be imagined, learned but little. 
 About his father's store, however, being a lad of 
 keenest intelligence, he picked up much useful and 
 miscellaneous information. 
 
 In June, 1833, he secured the situation of an ap- 
 prentice in the office of the Christian Intelligencer, 
 published at Gardiner, Me., and in his new position 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. -207 
 
 learned rapidly. In addition to the rudiments of his 
 trade, he picked up much odd information, and as 
 politics ran high at the time, and the newspaper office 
 was the great place for political discussion, he soon 
 became thoroughly conversant with all the election 
 news of the period. Taking his cue from his father, 
 who once in his hearing had denounced Andrew 
 Jackson as utterly unfit to be President, as an officer 
 who had hanged men in Florida without warrant of 
 law, who had trampled the rights of the Judiciary 
 under foot at New Orleans he even at this early age 
 conceived a bitter dislike to the Democracy, which 
 clung to him in all his after life, and did much to make 
 him, as he since has been, one of the leaders of the 
 Republican party. Of this period in his career, Mr. 
 Washburne wrote, some years ago, in a private diary: 
 " As time rolled on, I was quite pleased and contented 
 in my trade. I learned to set type rapidly, and had 
 also begun to work a little at the press. I did not con- 
 sider that I had to labor very hard, and I had a good 
 deal of leisure time to read and study. I read all the 
 exchange papers, and contracted the habit of news- 
 paper reading, which has not left me to this day. I 
 don't think I ever wasted an hour, but devoted myself 
 entirely to the acquisition of knowledge. To a boy 
 who is desirous of educating himself, there is not a 
 ii 
 
208 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 better school than a printing-office. I am satisfied 
 that I learned more in the one year 1 was in the 
 Intelligencer office than I ever learned in any one 
 year of my life." 
 
 Unfortunately, the boy's pleasant situation was not 
 long to continue. The paper with which he was con- 
 nected failed, and he was thrown out into the world 
 without employment or any hope of obtaining another 
 situation. Still he did not despair, and, returning to 
 the neighborhood of his home, by the influence of 
 friends, after passing a severe examination, he was 
 selected to teach the district school, his compensation 
 being $10 a month, and it being stipulated that he was 
 to "board around" among the neighboring families. 
 He was barely 18 years of age when he entered upon 
 the duties of schoolmaster. Many of his pupils were 
 much older and stronger than himself, several of them 
 were notorious mischief-makers, and the winter before 
 the schoolmaster had been, by a number of riotous 
 pupils, turned bodily out of the school and the school 
 itself closed up. By every means in his power, desir- 
 ing to avoid a collision with them, the young master 
 tried to conciliate his scholars, and for a while suc- 
 ceeded admirably. After the second week, however, 
 he began to see symptoms of revolt, and he made up 
 his mind that upon the first opportunity he would give 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 209 
 
 the big boys who were disposed to be impertinent a 
 taste of his mettle. He soon had the opportunity. 
 The class was up before him for recitation, when one 
 of the biggest and worst lads in school not only 
 declined to obey his orders, but impertinently laughed 
 in his face. Without a word young Washburne sprang 
 from his place, and, with a heavy ruler, beat the 
 rebellious pupil so vigorously over the head and 
 shoulders that he soon cried for mercy, and, together 
 with his companions who had been most unruly, ever 
 afterward submitted to discipline meekly and without 
 dispute. Schoolmaster Washburne had no further 
 trouble in maintaining the decorum of the establish- 
 ment 
 
 When his three months' term as a school-teacher 
 had closed, and he had received his $30, he succeeded, 
 after much effort, in securing a place as apprentice 
 in the office of the Kennebec Journal, at Augusta, 
 Me., which was the leading Whig organ of the State. 
 
 Young Washburne, though working very hard, some- 
 times until 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning, when a tri- 
 weekly paper was published during sessions of the 
 Legislature, had what seemed to him to be a very 
 pleasant and rather easy place in the Kennebec- 
 Journal office, and he was very hopeful of becoming 
 most proficient in his trade, when he was stricken by 
 
210 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 an ailment which prevented him permanently from 
 standing at the " case." This was a great blow, but 
 notwithstanding the disappointment, and finding that 
 one career was closed to him, he, with his usual 
 energy, turned his attention to another. He decided 
 to study law, and in the spring of 1836 bade farewell to 
 Augusta and the Kennebec Journal, going with what 
 little money he had scraped together to the Kent's 
 Hill Seminary, where he intended to study as long as 
 his funds would hold out. 
 
 In the winter of i836-*37, he studied Latin and 
 French, read continuously, attended lyceum lectures, 
 and progressed rapidly. He entered the law office of 
 the Hon. John Otis, a distinguished lawyer, and mem- 
 ber of Congress, who lived in the aristocratic town of 
 Hallowell, Me., and in time Mr. Otis was so much 
 struck by his diligence, fidelity, and ambition, that he 
 aided him pecuniarily, and took him into his own 
 family to board. Afterward, when the young man was 
 fitted, Mr. Otis advanced him the money to enter the 
 Cambridge Law School. Before this, however, in 
 January, 1838, the Whigs having a majority in the 
 Legislature, young Washburne, urged by his friends, 
 tried to procure the position of Assistant Clerk to the 
 House, which paid $2 a day, and would literally have 
 been a god-send to him. He was defeated in this 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 211 
 
 aspiration, but afterward was given some writing to do 
 by the Secretary of State who subsequently became 
 his colleague in Congress. In March, 1839, he entered 
 the Cambridge Law School, which was then most 
 popular, having for its professors Mr. Justice Story 
 and Simon Greenleaf, two of the most distinguished 
 jurists the country has ever produced. Many of those 
 who studied with Mr. Washburne have since become 
 noted men in the nation. 
 
 For more than a year the young man pursued his 
 studies at Cambridge, and then, having passed a 
 critical examination, and having been admitted to the 
 Bar, he determined to cut loose from his old asso- 
 ciations, seek a home in the far West, and make for 
 himself a competence. Gathering together what money 
 he could, and, equipped by a careful mother with a 
 few articles of clothing, he set out on his journey for 
 the " West," but with no definite idea of what point 
 he would ultimately select for settlement. 
 
 On his way to the West he passed through Washing- 
 ton, and then, for the first time, being thrown into the 
 society of many distinguished men, he was naturally 
 much impressed. Years afterward, writing of that first 
 visit, he says: "The Senate of the United States was 
 then in the very zenith of its power. Looking to the 
 great men who were then members of it, we may well 
 
212 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 say ' there were giants in those days.' Clay, Webster, 
 Calhoun, Benton, Preston, Buchanan, McDuffie, Silas 
 Wright, are the names of some of the Senators which 
 occur to me after the lapse of nearly thirty-five years. 
 I can distinctly call to mind the personal appearance 
 of every one of those men." 
 
 Pleasant as was this visit to Washington, however, 
 young Washburne was unable to prolong it. He was 
 soon reminded, by the rapid decrease in his small 
 hoard of money, that it would be necessary for him to 
 push on, and leaving Washington, he, by slow stages, 
 over rough roads, and making long trips on river 
 steamboats, at last, in the spring of 1840, landed at 
 Galena, in Illinois, the State in which he was after- 
 wards to become famous. 
 
 When Elihu B. Washburne arrived in Galena, as I 
 have described, a young man in a strange place> with- 
 out friends or money, and with nothing to aid him in 
 the world except a sound English education, much 
 hard experience, and a high resolve, no man would 
 have been foolhardy enough to predict that he would, 
 in the time to come, grow with the growth of his new 
 home, and, keeping abreast with the progress of the 
 Great West, make for himself a name known not only 
 in the nation, but throughout much of the civilized 
 world. Galena, at the time in question, was a town 
 
ELIHU B. WASI1I3URNE. 213 
 
 of about i, 800 inhabitants, of great business activity, 
 and the centre of a large mining country. The Bar 
 of the town was one of the most distinguished in 
 Illinois, and the young Eastern lawyer, commencing 
 the practice of his profession among many keen-witted 
 men, found that he must do his best if he would sus- 
 tain himself. He arrived at Galena shortly after the 
 commencement of the memorable Harrison campaign, 
 and, being a strong Whig, he made numerous speeches 
 in support of that party. In 1844 he was made a 
 delegate to the Whig National Convention, which met 
 at Baltimore, and which with unbounded enthusiasm 
 nominated to the Presidency that prince of political 
 leaders, Henry Clay. Indeed, he was always one of 
 Clay's stanchest, most steadfast, and at the same time 
 most disinterested admirers. After the Convention 
 was over, he went to Washington to see and congratu- 
 late Mr. Clay upon his nomination. He had never 
 seen him before, and was as much impressed with his 
 tall and striking figure as he was by his wondrous 
 graciousness and affability of manner. 
 
 During all this time, and while taking so active a 
 part in politics, it must not be assumed that Mr. 
 Washburne neglected his law business. Such was not 
 the case. His practice increased rapidly, and he at- 
 tended to it faithfully. He practiced not only in his 
 
214 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 own neighborhood, but also in the Supreme Court at 
 Springfield, the State Capital, making the journey to 
 that place by stage-coach, the trip occupying often 
 four or five days. In 1848, however, he was brought 
 forward by his friends as a candidate for the nomina- 
 tion for Congress in the Galena district a district, 
 by the way, which at that time extended from Galena 
 half way to St. Louis. The nominating convention 
 met at Rock Island, and in it Col. Baker carried off 
 the nomination. 
 
 Notwithstanding the defeat which he thus encount- 
 ered, Mr. Washburne developed such strength in the 
 convention as to make him more than ever a promin- 
 ent man in the district. In 1852 he was again dele- 
 gate to the National Whig Convention, and strongly 
 advocated and aided in the nomination of Gen. Scott 
 as against the pro-slavery influences of the conven- 
 tion. Because of this, when the Galena district was 
 reapportioned in two years after, he was again prom- 
 inently mentioned in connection with the Congres- 
 sional nomination, and was nominated. Washburne 
 canvassed the district with untiring zeal, and, greatly 
 to the surprise of his opponents and the people of the 
 State, he was elected by a majority of 286 votes. 
 
 Going to Congress, and representing as he did, what 
 was believed to have been an overwhelmingly Demo- 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 215 
 
 cratic district, Mr. Washburne was careful to feel well 
 his ground before attempting to make any display. 
 He did not believe, as do many of the young mem- 
 bers of to-day, that it was his duty, before he had 
 well warmed his seat, to make half a dozen speeches, 
 which had been prepared in advance, before a look- 
 ing-glass in a private room. He watched carefully 
 what was being done by those around him, and, know- 
 ing well the French proverb, may have believed that 
 " everything is possible to the man who waits." So 
 successful was he in the first Congress to which he was 
 elected, and so admirably did he represent not only a 
 party, but all the people of his district, that in 1854, 
 when it again became necessary to elect a Congress- 
 man, he was elected by a majority of over 5,000. In 
 the next Congress, the first regular session of which 
 commenced in 1855, he was made chairman of the 
 Committee on Commerce. In that position he dis- 
 tinguished himself by a fidelity to business, and a 
 broad comprehension of the duties of his office. Two 
 years later he was re-elected to Congress for the third 
 successive term. During the session of that Congress 
 there occurred the fight on the floor of the House 
 between Galusha A. Grow, of Pennsylvania, and the 
 South Carolina " fire-eater," Lawrence M. Keitt. Keitt, 
 of South Carolina, struck Grow, of Pennsylvania, 
 
216 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 as he was walking through the aisle of the House 
 of Representatives. Both represented great States. 
 The South Carolinian looked for an easy conquest. 
 The South Carolinian was mistaken. Grow returned 
 the blow. For a moment there was consternation in 
 the House. Then other Southerners, true to their 
 traditions, rushed to the aid of their champion. But 
 Mr. Grow, to the surprise of the Southerners, was not 
 left unprotected. Many Northern men, with strong 
 Anglo-Saxon arms, rushed to his support. Foremost 
 among them was Elihu B. Washburne, who, with sturdy 
 strokes of a fist developed by hard toil upon a New 
 England farm, struck right and left in the just cause, 
 and did much to demonstrate upon proud Southern 
 cheeks that Yankee mud-sills would fight. 
 
 This little episode did Mr. Washburne no harm. 
 When the election again came around he was again 
 chosen from the Galena district, by an increased 
 majority. In 1860 he was re-elected for the fifth suc- 
 cessive time by a majority of 13,511 the largest 
 majority given to any man in that Congress, and one 
 of the largest given to any man who ever sat in the 
 United States House of Representatives. 
 
 In the next Congress, and in those which followed 
 it for Mr. Washburne was triumphantly re-elected 
 term after term he, as chairman of the Committee on 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE, 217 
 
 Commerce, and later, as chairman of the Committee 
 on Appropriations, took a most prominent part. He 
 was one of the first of the men who, with far-sighted 
 intelligence, saw that the war was not to be for thirty 
 days, but might be for years. He was also regarded 
 as the next friend of President Lincoln. Indeed, it 
 was his duty, on the part of the House, to go with Mr. 
 Seward on the part of the Senate, to receive Abraham 
 Lincoln when, after his election for the first time, he 
 came to Washington. 
 
 Lincoln was inaugurated, it is true, without blood- 
 shed, but soon afterward the war came on, and every- 
 thing was very far from being " all right " in Washing- 
 ton. During all the terrible days which followed, 
 during the long and weary years of rebellion which 
 were precipitated on the country by the slave-holding 
 power, Elihu B. Washburne was a foremost figure in 
 the council-chamber of the nation. He was again and 
 again re-elected to Congress, till at last, by reason of 
 the length of his continuous service, he became the 
 " Father of the House." In that capacity he swore in 
 Schuyler Colfax as Speaker on three different occa- 
 sions, and swore in Mr. Speaker Elaine once. In the 
 passage of all the great war legislation of the time he 
 took an active part. He was always in his place 
 fighting " steals " of every kind with a persistency 
 
218 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 which was almost heroic, and by his determined 
 opposition to jobs of all kinds, earned the name of the 
 " Watch-dog of the Treasury." 
 
 Gen. Grant, being one of Mr. Washburne's constitu- 
 ents, owed much of his rank in the army to his influ- 
 ence. Indeed, every promotion which he received 
 was given either solely or in part, upon the recom- 
 mendation of Mr. Washburne. The manner in which 
 he (Grant) became senior Brigadier-General of Illi- 
 nois Volunteers is now for the first time narrated. 
 When the State in question had raised thirty- 
 six regiments t of troops, and was entitled to nine 
 Brigadier-Generals, President Lincoln sent to each of 
 the Illinois delegation, Senators and Congressmen, a 
 personal note asking them to recommend nine men to 
 fill the vacant positions. The delegation was called 
 to meet in Judge Trumball's room, and, after some dis- 
 cussion as to the manner in which the selections 
 should be made, it was decided that the districts 
 should be called in their numerical order, that each 
 Congressman should name his candidate, and that his 
 associates should then vote for or against him. The 
 Galena district was the first one called, and, in re- 
 sponse, Mr. Washburne suggested Colonel Grant, of 
 Galena. The Colonel was not unknown to the other 
 members of the delegation, and for this reason, as 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 219 
 
 much as a desire to gratify Mr. Washburne, every 
 member of the delegation voted for him, and he was 
 in this way unanimously recommended as the first 
 choice of the State for one of the nine positions which 
 the President desired to fill. By virtue of thus appear- 
 ing at the head of the Brigadier-Generals, as it after- 
 ward turned out, Grant took senior rank, and when it 
 became necessary to make Major-Generals by pro- 
 motion, for the simple reason that his name was at the 
 head of the list as described, he was the first to re- 
 ceive the higher rank. Later on Mr. Washburne was 
 instrumental in framing and passing the bill which 
 made U. S. Grant a Lieutenant-General and, subse- 
 quently, General of the Armies of the United States. 
 The first postal-telegraph bill ever introduced in the 
 House was introduced by Mr. Washburne, and the bill 
 providing for the establishment of national cemeteries 
 (which became a law) was also introduced by him. 
 
 There is reason to believe that Gen. Grant was 
 always very grateful to Mr. Washburne for the good 
 service which he did him when he was a compara- 
 tively obscure citizen, and afterward when he had 
 made a name. At all events, in 1869, when he had 
 been elected President, one of his first acts was to ap- 
 point Congressman Washburne to the first place in his 
 Cabinet. The appointment was made in a manner 
 
220 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 exceedingly characteristic of Gen. Grant. It is a fact 
 beyond dispute that, as in the case of Don Cameron, 
 Mr. Washburne was entirely ignoraat of the Presi- 
 dent's intention to make him one of his Secretaries. 
 The great Illinois Congressman, immediately after the 
 President's inauguration, was sitting in his room in the 
 Capitol the room of the Committee on Appropria- 
 tions, which he took possession of after the death of 
 Thad. Stevens and was discussing with Horace 
 Greeley and two or three other gentlemen the prob- 
 able action of President Grant in regard to his Cabi 
 net. Even while they were talking, a page-boy came 
 in from the Senate Chamber, saying: 
 
 " Mr. Washburne, here are a number of important 
 Executive appointments." 
 
 Mr. Washburne took the paper which the lad handed 
 him, and, greatly to his surprise, read at the top of the 
 list: 
 
 " To be Secretary of State, Elihu B. Washburne, of 
 Illinois." 
 
 Turning to Mr. Greeley and the other gentlemen 
 who were present, he said : 
 
 "The question is at last settled, gentlemen, and, 
 strangely enough, to be Secretary of State, President 
 Grant has named myself." 
 
 It is worthy of repetition that Mr. Washburne was 
 
EL1HU B. WASHBURNE. 221 
 
 in this way for the first time informed of his appoint- 
 ment. He had absolutely no previous information of 
 President Grant's intention toward himself. 
 
 To enter the Cabinet, he reluctantly resigned his 
 seat in Congress, and bade farewell to a constituency 
 which for nearly twenty years had honored themselves 
 by honoring him. I say that he resigned reluctantly. 
 He did so not only because he was sorry to discon- 
 tinue his Congressional services under the old pleasant 
 auspices, but because his health would not permit him 
 to perform the duties of the new position to which he 
 had been called. Such proved to be the case. After 
 a short term of service and consultation with eminent 
 physicians, he was fully assured that the duties of the 
 State Department were more than he could hope to 
 fulfill with safety to himself, and he resigned. 
 
 Subsequently President Grant tendered Mr. Wash- 
 burne the position of Minister to France, which he 
 accepted. 
 
 When Mr. Washburne resigned his position as Sec- 
 retary of State, and, because of ill-health and a desire 
 for rest, took upon himself the duties of the Minister- 
 ship to France, he reckoned very much without his 
 host. Indeed, he had only been a few months abroad 
 when he discovered that his new post was destined to 
 prove a most laborious, if not a very dangerous one. 
 
222 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 By his logical and forcible appeals, Mr. Washburne 
 succeeded, practically upon his own terms, in effecting 
 the release from confinement within the French limits, 
 of nearly all the German subjects who desired to return 
 to their own country. Writing to the American Sec- 
 retary of State under date of Sept. 2, 1870, he thus 
 modestly tells of the remarkable success he had in the 
 direction indicated: " The greater part of the German 
 population has left Paris. This Legation has vised 
 passports and given safe conducts for very nearly 
 30,000 persons, subjects of the North German Con 
 federation, expelled from France. We have given 
 railroad tickets to the Prussian frontier for 8,000 of 
 these people, as well as small amounts of money to a 
 much smaller number. From this statement you will 
 form somewhat of an estimate of the amount of labor 
 we have performed for the past few weeks. * * * 
 My time is now a good deal taken up in looking after 
 Germans who have been arrested and thrown into 
 prison. The number is very great, but my applica- 
 tions are promptly attended to, and thus far every man 
 has been released for whom I have applied." 
 
 During all these terrible days of the bloody siege of 
 Paris, and reign of the Commune, Elihu B. Washburne 
 stood manfully at his post. The representatives of 
 nearly every other foreign nation fled in dismay, fear- 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 22S 
 
 \ 
 ing for their lives. The American Minister remained. 
 
 Shells exploded within a few yards of his office, fires 
 raged, great walls, pillars, and ancient monuments 
 tottered and fell all about him, but still he would not 
 forsake the trust which his Government had given into 
 his keeping. From the windows of his apartments he 
 saw all Paris in flames; he saw the streets of the great 
 capital literally running with blood; he saw men shot 
 down; he was saluted day and night by the hoarse yells 
 of drunken madmen, and by the groans of the dying; 
 but through every horror he still remained at his post. 
 
 For his heroic services during the siege of Paris and 
 the terrible reign of the Commune, Minister Wash- 
 burne received the sincere thanks of thousands of 
 individuals whom he had aided, and of several nations 
 and high public officers. The German Government, 
 to subjects of which he was of untold benefit, was 
 particularly warm in expressions of gratitude. 
 
 Mr. Washburne was practically the Prussian Minis- 
 ter at Paris for nearly a year; was guardian of the 
 archives of the German Embassy, and was charged 
 with the protection of all Germans and German inter- 
 ests in France during all that time. 
 
 A very considerable event in the earlier days of the 
 siege, was the sudden appearance in Paris of Gen. 
 *Burnside, now United States Senator for Rhode Island, 
 
 12 
 
224 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 and Paul Forbes. In one of his letters to Mr. Wash- 
 burne, Bismarck was inclined to claim some credit for 
 his liberality in allowing these two distinguished 
 gentlemen to enter Paris, but states that " This liberal- 
 ity of ours has been rewarded by those excellent 
 cigars you have been kind enough to send me." 
 
 Some time after the close of the war the Emperor 
 Wilhelm conferred upon Mr. Washburne the Order of 
 the Red Eagle, one of the highest within his gift, and 
 accompanied it by a jeweled star of great value and 
 exquisite workmanship. This, because of a constitu- 
 tional provision which prohibits United States Minis- 
 ters from accepting foreign orders, Mr. Washburne was 
 compelled to decline. Still, desiring to show to him 
 some mark of appreciation, the Emperor, on the eve 
 of his departure for America, sent him his portrait, 
 accompanied by a highly eulogistic letter. 
 
 After serving the United States in Paris for nearly 
 nine years, Mr. Washburne, at the commencement of 
 President Haves' term of service, asked to be recalled. 
 Returning to this country, he made his home in 
 Chicago, and is now living in this city the quiet life of 
 a private citizen. Still enjoying the full strength and 
 health of robust manhood, he passes most of his time 
 in literary pursuits. In his lofty and commodious 
 library, surrounded by many rare engravings, books, 
 
ELIHU B. WASHBURNE. 
 
 225 
 
 and manuscripts in various languages, he is at all times 
 easily accessible to those who desire to see him. His 
 long residence at foreign conrts, among princes and 
 grandees, has in no way changed him. He is, as he 
 always has been, a courteous, straightforward, plain- 
 spoken American gentleman. He is a representative 
 American citizen who has won success by working for 
 it. He is a living example of what greatness, under 
 our liberal institutions, can be achieved even by those 
 of the humblest origin. He has been highly honored 
 by his country, and it can with all truth be said that 
 he has deserved every honor he has received. 
 
DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 
 
 'NQUESTIONABLY the foremost among the 
 evangelists of modern times is D wight Lyman 
 Moody. Born on the 5th day of February, 
 1837, at Northfield, Mass., his parents occupying a 
 humble position in life, he received a very limited 
 education, but his religious training, guided by the 
 wise counsels and fervent prayers of a loving, Christian 
 mother, was such as to mold a nature which, in the 
 large Christianity of its general tone, has brought 
 comfort and heavenly peace to the hearts of tens of 
 thousands, lowly and high born, who have listened to 
 the simple, earnest, and unaffected exposition of the 
 teachings of the Saviour of the world. 
 
 Mr. Moody left the place of his birth at an early 
 age, and went to Boston. Thrown upon the world, he 
 soon developed that self-reliant spirit and fertility of 
 resource which has since characterized his career, and 
 
D WIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 229 
 
 distinguished him above all others as a reformer and 
 missionary leader. Although he was a constant 
 attendant at the Northfield Unitarian Church, upon 
 his arrival in Boston he does not appear to have had 
 any decided religious opinion or predilection for any 
 particular sect or creed, because in that city he joined 
 the Congregational Church, and identified himself with 
 the Sabbath school of that body. Here it was that he, 
 aided by a faithful teacher, was led to that condition 
 of Christian hope, to give which to his fellow crea- 
 tures he has labored so earnestly and diligently 
 throughout the English-speaking world. 
 
 After a brief residence in Boston, a desire to better 
 his condition in life induced him to come to Chicago, 
 where he arrived about the latter part of 1855. His 
 career here is well-known how, by painstaking, metho- 
 , dical devotion to business, the sweet spirit of true 
 Christianity permeating all his actions, he gained the 
 confidence of his employes and the esteem of his 
 fellows; and how, although scrupulous in his attention 
 to business duties, he found time and opportunity to 
 enter into religious work with that spirit of glorious 
 enthusiasm which seems to illustrate his whole soul, 
 and which very soon made him conspicuous in every 
 important religious work in Chicago. An active mem- 
 ber of the Young Men's Christian Association, he 
 
230 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 sought, and fruitfully, by untried means to bring the 
 souls of men and women nearer to Christ, and it is 
 well known that to his diligence and indefatigable 
 efforts in the missionary field, the position which that 
 institution holds to-day as a useful organization, is in 
 no small degree to be attributed. So well did he 
 acquit himself in the work of the society, and so deep 
 an impression did he make in the good opinion of its 
 members, that they finally elected him president. 
 
 In August, 1862, Mr. Moody was married to Miss 
 Emma C. Revell, of Chicago, a lady well qualified by 
 her tastes and talents to aid him in his work. The 
 union is said to be a happy one, and his home is 
 cheerful, joyous, and eminently Christian in its char- 
 acter. 
 
 But Mr. Moody's labors have been subject to seri- 
 ous interruptions and embarrassments. The great fire, 
 which desolated the city, swept away his own happy 
 home, and left the people he had collected around 
 him without a church in which to worship, and de- 
 prived the children whom he loved so tenderly of the 
 Sabbath school privileges they had learned to prize so 
 highly. Confusion, distrust and destitution prevailed 
 on every side. Many would have abandoned the work, 
 but he seemed only the more resolved to prosecute it. 
 Farwell Hall yielded to the flames, and Mr. Moody 
 
DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 231 
 
 I 
 
 and his friends, instead of being cast down at the 
 sight of its ashes, went energetically to work and 
 reared upon its ruins a still more magnificent struc- 
 ture. 
 
 The most distinctive trait of this extraordinary 
 man's character is his entire concentration to the work 
 of his life. His implicit reliance upon his God 
 smacks of the old days when Christ commanded the 
 humble fishermen to put their trust entirely in Him, 
 and take up the cross and preach the Gospel. This 
 Mr. Moody has literally done. With a heroism that 
 grace alone could inspire, he abandoned his secular 
 calling, with all its promise of gain, and affirmed that 
 he would devote his life to God. Remonstrances and 
 entreaties from friends to abandon his plan were of no 
 avail. He merely answered, " God will provide." 
 
 His idea was seconded by Mr. Ira D. Sankey, whose 
 charming singing and rendition of the simple Chris- 
 tian songs have captivated the attention and filled with 
 overwhelming emotion the souls of thousands. These 
 two men, after laboring together in Chicago for about 
 two years, receiving no stated salary, but merely rely- 
 ing upon Providence for the supply of their wants, 
 accepted invitations to visit Europe as evangelists. 
 
 They landed at Liverpool on the iyth of June, 
 .1873, where they unfurled the banner of the cross, and 
 
232 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 the whole world is familiar with their remarkable suc- 
 cess. In London, Birmingham, Manchester, Liver- 
 pool, Glasgow, and Edinburgh, and, in fact, all over 
 Great Britain and Ireland, his great Christianity, his 
 renunciation of all priestly authority, his earnest and 
 simple assurance to the people that the commonest 
 and the highest among them could work out their own 
 salvation if they would, by simply, lovingly, and duti- 
 fully following our Saviour, requiring the mediation of 
 no erring man, disarmed prejudice and won the hearts 
 of the multitudes to Jesus. Lords and ladies, cultured 
 and refined, professors high in the theology of all 
 times, and laborers in the hundreds of highways and 
 byways of life, all crowded eagerly to hear the old, 
 old story told in a plain, unvarnished way. 
 
 They remained abroad nearly two years. Return- 
 ing to America, after a brief period of repose, they 
 began work again in Northfield, Mass., on the pth day 
 of September, 1875. Their wonderful work in Britain 
 had prepared the way for their success at home, and 
 wherever they went immense audiences greeted them 
 with welcome and delight. 
 
 The first great meeting in this country took place at 
 the Brooklyn rink on Sunday, the 24th of October, 
 1875. An audience of some 10,000 gathered within 
 the building and over 20,000 assembled outside, unable 
 
DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 233 
 
 to obtain admission. From the very first the interest 
 was intense, and at every meeting thousands failed to 
 obtain admission, so great was the desire of the people 
 to attend the services. So it was with the Philadel- 
 phia meetings, which began on the 2ist of November, 
 and his work in the city of New York, beginning on 
 the yth of February, 1876, obtained the same results. 
 
 The religious work of these two men, both in the 
 Eastern States and Europe, has been incalculable in 
 its beneficial results. Bibles long closed have been 
 reverently opened, and to-day their sacred truths 
 gleam upon many minds with a new light. The spirit 
 of evangelism has been quickened and developed in 
 new and efficient ways. 
 
 In Chicago an immense tabernacle was built, capa- 
 ble of accommodating over 7,000 people, and this 
 capacious building was daily filled to overflowing. As 
 a result of these meetings, several hundred members 
 were added to various churches in the city 
 
 And all the foregoing wonderful revivals were 
 accomplished by a plain, uneducated, but earnest and 
 faithful worker in the Lord's vineyard. 
 
 If you feel that you would like to travel in the same 
 road, then study closely Mr. Moody's life, and look 
 around you and see if there are not similar opportu- 
 nities for doing good. But if you feel that you would 
 
234 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 much rather be a business man, then remember that 
 the place you really wish for is the place you will do 
 the most good in; for no one having a distaste for his 
 employment will ever attain to the highest degree of 
 success in it. 
 
 We append a sketch of "The School on the 
 Sands," where Mr. Moody gained the training which 
 has helped him so well during his bur,y life. 
 
 THE SCHOOL ON THE " SANDS " IN CHICAGO. 
 
 It is nearly twenty years since Mr. Moody started 
 the Mission Sunday-school in Chicago that was to be 
 to him in turn a training school for his great work as 
 an evangelist. He was then a salesman in a whole- 
 sale boot and shoe house. On week days his steam- 
 engine energy found full play in the effort to sell more 
 goods than any other man in the establishment. On 
 Sundays he worked just as hard. He rented four 
 pews in Plymouth church, of which he was a member, 
 and in the morning he raked boarding-houses, saloons 
 and street corners for young men to fill them. In the 
 afternoon he plunged into Sunday-school work. Re- 
 cruiting was his forte. It is said that he helped build 
 up, in turn, over a dozen different schools, as he found 
 one after another that seemed to need his help. He 
 
DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 235 
 
 stepped over denominational lines as easily in those 
 days as now. It mattered little to him whether a 
 school was under Methodist, Congregational, or Pres- 
 byterian management, if so be he got the gamins of 
 the street under Sunday school influences. 
 
 His one trouble in this work was that the youngsters 
 who needed Sunday-school instruction the most could 
 not be persuaded to come to the ordinary school or 
 could not be kept there if once they were coaxed in. 
 They were too untamed too ill at ease among well- 
 dressed and well-behaved children. So, more to catch 
 the fish that slipped through the nets of the other 
 schools than for any other reason, he decided to start 
 a school of his own on the Sands. This was the name 
 of a poverty-stricken, whisky-ridden, crime-steeped 
 locality on the north side the Five Points of Chicago. 
 
 Hiring an unfurnished room that had been last used 
 for a saloon, he started out to drum up scholars to fill 
 it. At first the young Arabs fought shy. Then he 
 filled his pockets with maple sugar, and judiciously 
 distributing it among those who promised to come, 
 the room soon overflowed, and he was obliged to look 
 up larger quarters. These were found in a hall over 
 the North Market, from which the school took the 
 name by which it was known for several years. To 
 give an idea of the neighborhood in which the school 
 
236 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 vras planted, it is said that Moody, speaking from the 
 steps of the hall entrance could make his voice heard 
 in the doors of 200 saloons. Here he and his helpers 
 gathered a school that within a year had an average 
 attendance of 650 scholars, and soon ran up to 1,000. 
 There was probably never another school just like 
 it. At first there were no seats even in the room, and 
 for some time none of the " Sunday-school requisites " 
 of the advertisements no blackboard, no library, no 
 maps, no banners. But it was a live school; so thor- 
 oughly wide-awake that at first the teachers considered 
 it a satisfactory day's work when they had been able 
 to do a little singing and keep the turbulent member- 
 ship sufficiently quiet to hear a little talking. It was 
 a cardinal doctrine that the worse a boy was the more 
 necessity there was of keeping him in the school. 
 Such a confession of failure as the expulsion of a 
 scholar was not to be thought of. Great was the 
 ingenuity and patience required to manage some of 
 the hard cases. There is a story of one young rough 
 who seemed to defy all the efforts to tame him. There 
 was danger that his riotous behavior would break up 
 the school. Having meditated and prayed over the 
 matter all the week, Moody came to school one Sun- 
 day persuaded that there was but one remedy that 
 would reach his case, and that was a good thrashing. 
 
DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 237 
 
 Coming up behind the young rowdy he clasped his 
 arms around him, lifted him from his feet and shoved 
 him through the open door of a little ante-room. 
 Locking the door he proceeded to business. The 
 culprit was well endowed with muscle. But so was 
 Moody. The excitement in the school-room was 
 drawn off by singing until the two re-appeared, after a 
 somewhat prolonged and noisy " interview " in the 
 ante-room. Both were evidently well warmed up, but 
 the result was manifest in the chastened bearing of 
 the offender. " It was hard work," remarked Moody, 
 "but I guess we have saved him." And they had! 
 More than that, this exhibition of muscular Christian- 
 ity was a new claim on the admiration of the school, 
 and Moody's will was law among them thereafter. He 
 had demonstrated his ability to keep order, and forth- 
 with found many helpers. One day an old scholar 
 coming up the aisle espied a raw recruit with his cap 
 on. Snatching it off, he hit the offender a blow that 
 sent him at full length upon the floor. " I'll learn you 
 better than to wear your cap on in this school," was 
 the sententious explanation as he passed on to his 
 own seat with the air of one who was ready to do his 
 duty. 
 
 It was not easy to find suitable teachers for the hard- 
 bitted classes which made up such a school. And 
 
238 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 there, as in other schools, it was not always easy to 
 get rid of unsuitable teachers. But a plan was hit 
 upon that worked to a charm. No teacher could do 
 such children good unless he could interest them. So 
 a rule was made, giving a scholar the privilege, under 
 certain limitations, of leaving his class when he chose 
 and going into another one. The result was that the 
 superintendent was relieved from the unpleasant task 
 of taking a dull teacher's class away from him. For 
 the class, one by one, quickly took itself away. And 
 thus there came about a " survival of fittest " teachers 
 that would have delighted Darwin himself. 
 
 Moody put a vast amount of work into the school. 
 His evenings and Sundays were spent in skirmishing 
 about the Sands, looking after old scholars and look- 
 ing up new ones. He never believed that there was 
 anything that any sinner needed so much as he needed 
 the Gospel. But along with the Gospel he carried a 
 great deal of relief for the sick, the unemployed and 
 the unfortunate. He was the almoner not only of his 
 own charity, but of the gifts of many friends who 
 became interested in his work. His old employer 
 says that he has seen as many as twenty children come 
 into the store at once to be fitted out with new shoes 
 gratuitously. 
 
 Whep he finally gave up business altogether, that 
 
DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY. 239 
 
 he might devote all his time to missionary labor, he 
 bought a pony to facilitate his work. Mounting it on 
 Sunday he would go skirmishing through the streets 
 and alleys on the search for new scholars. Coming 
 back at the hour for school, the patient pony would 
 sometimes be loaded, from its ears to its haunches, 
 with ragged urchins while the later recruits hung on 
 by the stirrups or tail! 
 
 Numerous were the conversions, wonderful the 
 transformations that were continually occurring among 
 these children and youth. One cold day in February, 
 a wild lad made his appearance at the school-room 
 door. He was clad in a man's overcoat its rags tied 
 together with strings. His legs were wrapped with 
 papers, and a big pair of shoes completed his winter 
 costume. Mr. Moody caught sight of him, gave him 
 his hand, found him a place in a class, with as cordial 
 and kindly attention as he could have shown the most 
 welcome visitor. A gentleman who happened to be 
 visiting the school that day was moved to tears by the 
 wretched plight of the boy. After the exercises were 
 over he took him home and gave him a full suit of 
 clothes belonging to his own son. The boy, thus be- 
 friended, continued coming to the school, was con- 
 verted, and is now a Sunday-school superintendent 
 himself. Sunday-school Times* 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 
 
 PEABODY came of an old English 
 family, which traced its descent back to the 
 year of our Lord 61, the days of the heroic 
 Boadicea, down through the brilliant circle of the 
 Knights of the Round Table, to Francis Peabody, 
 who in 1635 went from St. Albans,.in Hertfordshire, to 
 the New World, and settled in Danvers, Massachusetts, 
 where the subject of this memoir was born one hun- 
 dred and sixty years later, on the i8th of February, 
 1795. The parents of George Peabody were poor, 
 and hard work was the lot to which he was born, a lot 
 necessary to develop his sterling qualities of mind and 
 heart. He was possessed of a strong, vigorous con- 
 stitution, and a quick, penetrating intellect. His edu- 
 cation was limited, for he was taken from school at 
 the age of eleven, and a ^t to earning his living. Upon 
 leaving school, he was apprenticed in a " countrj 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 243 
 
 store " in Danvers. Here he worked hard and faith- 
 fully for four or five years. His mind matured more 
 rapidly than his body, and he was a man in intellect 
 long before he was out of his teens. Having gained 
 all the information it was possible to acquire in so 
 small an establishment, he began to wish for a wider 
 field for the exercise of his abilities. 
 
 Accordingly, he left Mr. Proctor's employment, and 
 spent a year with his maternal grandfather at Post 
 Mills village, Thetford, Vermont. " George Peabody's 
 year at Post Mills," says a writer who knew him, 
 " must have been a year of intense quiet, with good 
 examples always before him, and good advice when- 
 ever occasion called for it; for Mr. Dodge and his wife 
 were both too shrewd to bore him with it needlessly. 
 
 " It was on his return from this visit that he spent a 
 night at a tavern in Concord, N. H., and paid for his 
 entertainment by sawing wood the next morning. 
 That, however, must have been a piece of George's 
 own voluntary economy, for Jeremiah Dodge would 
 never have sent his grandson home to Danvers with- 
 out the means of procuring the necessaries of life on 
 the way, and still less, if possible, would Mrs. Dodge. 
 
 " The interest with which Mr. Peabody remembered 
 this visit to Post Mills is shown by his second visit so 
 late in life, and his gift of a library as large a 
 
 13 
 
244 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 library as that place needs. Of its influence on his 
 subsequent career, of course, there is no record. 
 Perhaps it was not much. But, at least, it gave him a 
 good chance for quiet thinking, at an age when he 
 needed it; and the labors of the farm may have been 
 useful both to mind and body." 
 
 At the age of sixteen, in the year 1811, he went to 
 Newburyport, and became a clerk in the store of his 
 elder brother, David Peabody, who was engaged in the 
 dry goods business at that place. He exhibited un- 
 usual capacity and promise in his calling, and soon drew 
 upon himself the favorable attention of the merchants 
 of the place. He was prompt, reliable, and energetic, 
 and from the first established an enviable reputation 
 for personal and professional integrity. It is said that 
 he earned here the first money he ever made outside 
 of his business. This was by writing ballots for the 
 Federal party in Newburyport. Printed ballots had 
 not then come into use. 
 
 He did not stay long in Newburyport, as a great 
 fire, which burned up a considerable part of the town, 
 destroyed his brother's store, and obliged him to seek 
 employment elsewhere. 
 
 "The cause of Mr. George Peabody's interest in 
 Newburyport was not alone that he had lived here for 
 a brief period, or that his relatives had lived here ; 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 545 
 
 but rather it was the warm friendship that had been 
 shown him, which was, in fact, the basis of his subse- 
 quent prosperity. He left here in 1811, and returned 
 in 1857. The forty-six intervening years had borne to 
 the grave most of the persons with whom he had 
 formed acquaintance. 
 
 u Mr. Spaulding, an old friend of his youth, had 
 rendered him the greatest of services. When Mr. 
 Peabody left Newburyport, he was under age, and not 
 worth a dollar. Mr. Spaulding gave him letters of 
 credit in Boston, through which he obtained two 
 thousand dollars' worth of merchandise of Mr. James 
 Reed, who was so favorably impressed with his ap- 
 pearance, that he subsequently gave him credit for a 
 larger amount. This was his start in life, as he after- 
 ward acknowledged; for at a public entertainment in 
 Boston, when his credit was good for any amount, and 
 in any part of the world, Mr. Peabody laid his hand 
 on Mr. Reed's shoulder, and said to those present, 
 ' My friends, here is my first patron ; and he is the 
 man who sold me my first bill of goods.' After he 
 was established in Georgetown, D. C., the first con- 
 signment made to him was by the late Francis Todd, 
 of Newburyport. It was from these facts that New- 
 buryport was always pleasant in his memory; and the 
 donation he made to the public library was on his own 
 
246 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 suggestion, that he desired to do something of a public 
 nature for our town." 
 
 From New England, George Peabody turned his 
 face southward, and entered the employment of his 
 uncle, Mr. John Peabody, who was engaged in the 
 dry goods business in Georgetown, in the District of 
 Columbia. He reached that place in the spring of 
 1812; but, as the second war with England broke out 
 about the same time, was not able to give his imme- 
 diate attention to business. His uncle was a poor 
 man and a bad manager, and for two years the busi- 
 ness was conducted by George Peabody, and in his 
 own name; but at the end of that time, seeing the 
 business threatened with ruin by his uncle's incapacity, 
 he resigned his situation, and entered the service of 
 Mr. Elisha Riggs, who had just established a wholesale 
 dry goods house in Georgetown. Mr. Riggs furnished 
 the capital for the concern, and Mr. Peabody was 
 given the management of it. Soon after this, the lat- 
 ter became a partner in the house. It is said that 
 when Mr. Riggs invited Mr. Peabody to become his 
 partner, the latter informed him that he could not 
 legally assume the responsibilities of the business, as 
 he was only nineteen years old. This was no objec- 
 tion in the mind of the merchant, as he wanted a 
 young and active assistant, and had discerned in his 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 247 
 
 boy-manager the qualities which never fail to win 
 success. 
 
 The new business in which he was engaged con- 
 sisted chiefly in the importation and sale of European 
 goods, and consignments of dry goods from the 
 northern cities. It extended over a wide field, and 
 gave Mr. Peabody a fine opportunity for the display 
 of his abilities. He worked with energy and intelli- 
 gence, and in 1815 the business was found to be so 
 extensive that a removal to Baltimore became neces- 
 sary. About this time a sort of irregular banking 
 business was added to the operations of the house. 
 This was chiefly the suggestion of Mr. Peabody, and 
 proved a source of great profit 
 
 Mr. Peabody quickly took a prominent rank among 
 the merchants of Baltimore. He was noted for " a 
 judgment quick and cautious, clear and sound, a 
 decided purpose, a firm will, energetic and persever- 
 ing industry, punctuality and fidelity in every engage- 
 ment, justice and honor controlling every transaction, 
 and courtesy that true courtesy which springs from 
 genuine kindness presiding over the intercourse of 
 life." His business continued to increase, and in 
 1822 it became necessary to establish branches in 
 Philadelphia and New York, over which Mr. Peabody 
 exercised a careful supervision. In 1827 he went to 
 
24:8 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 England on business for his firm, and during the next 
 ten years made frequent voyages between New York 
 and London. 
 
 In 1829 Mr. Riggs withdrew from the firm, and Mr. 
 Peabody became the actual head of the house, the 
 style of the firm, which had previously been " Riggs 
 & Peabody," being changed to " Peabody, Riggs & 
 Co." 
 
 In 1836 Mr. Peabody determined to extend his 
 business, which was already very large, to England, 
 and to open a branch house in London. In 1837 he 
 removed to that city for the purpose of taking charge 
 of his house there, and from that time London became 
 his home. 
 
 The summer of this year was marked by one of the 
 most terrible commercial crises the United States has 
 ever known. " That great sympathetic nerve of the 
 commercial world, credit," said Edward Everett, " as 
 far as the United States was concerned, was for the 
 time paralyzed. At that moment Mr. Peabody not 
 only stood firm himself, but was the cause of firmness 
 in others. There were not at that time, probably, 
 half a dozen other men in Europe who, upon the sub- 
 ject of American securities, would have been listened 
 to for a moment in the parlor of the Bank of England. 
 But his judgment commanded respect; his integrity 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 249 
 
 won back the reliance which men had been accus- 
 tomed to place in American securities." 
 
 The conduct of Mr. Peabody in this crisis, placed 
 him among the foremost merchants of London. He 
 carried on his business upon a large scale from his 
 base of operations in that city. He bought British 
 manufactures in all parts of England and shipped 
 them to the United States. His vessels brought back 
 in return all kinds of American produce which would 
 command a ready sale in England. Profitable as these 
 ventures were, there was another branch of his busi- 
 ness much more remunerative to him. The merchants 
 and manufacturers on both sides of the Atlantic who 
 consigned their goods to him frequently procured 
 from him advances upon the goods long before they 
 were sold. At other times they would leave large 
 sums in his hands long after the goods were disposed 
 of, knowing that they could draw whenever they 
 needed, and that in the meanwhile their money was 
 being so profitably invested that they were certain of 
 a proper interest for their loans. Thus Mr. Peabody 
 gradually became a banker, in which pursuit he was as 
 successful as he had been as a merchant. In 1843 he 
 withdrew from the house of Peabody, Riggs & Co., 
 and established the house of " George Peabody & 
 Company, of Warnford Court, City." 
 
250 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 His dealings were chiefly with America, and in 
 American securities, and he was always regarded as 
 one of the best specimens of the American merchant 
 ever seen in London. In speaking of the manner in 
 which he organized his business establishment, he 
 once said: " I have endeavored, in the constitution of 
 its members and the character of its business, to make 
 it an American house, and to give it an, American at- 
 mosphere; to furnish it with American journals; to 
 make it a center of American news, and an agreeable 
 place for any American friends visiting London." 
 
 In the year 1851, when it was thought that there 
 would be no representation of the achievements of 
 American skill and industry in the Great Exhibition of 
 that year, from lack of funds, Mr. Peabody generously 
 supplied the sum of fifteen thousand dollars, which 
 enabled the Commissioners to make a suitable display 
 of the American contributions. 
 
 " He had contributed his full share, if not to the 
 splendor, at least to the utilities of the exhibition. In 
 fact, the leading journal at London, with a magnanim- 
 ity which did it honor, admitted that England had 
 derived more real benefit from the contributions of 
 the United States than from those of any other 
 country." 
 
 As has been said, Mr. Peabody made the bulk of 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 251 
 
 his colossal fortune in the banking business. He had 
 a firm faith in American securities, and dealt in them 
 largely, and with confidence. His course was now 
 onward and upward, and each year marked an in- 
 crease of his wealth. His business operations were 
 conducted in pursuance of a rigid system which was 
 never relaxed. To the very close of his life he never 
 abandoned the exact or business-like manner in 
 which he sought to make money. He gave away 
 millions with a generosity never excelled, yet he could 
 be exacting to a penny in the fulfillment of a contract. 
 
 In his youth he contracted habits of economy, and 
 these he retained to the last. Being unmarried, he 
 did not subject himself to the expense of a complete 
 domestic establishment, but lived in chambers, and 
 entertained his friends at his club or at a coffee-house. 
 His habits were simple in every respect, and he was 
 often seen making his dinner on a mutton-chop at a 
 table laden (at his cost) with the most sumptuous and 
 tempting viands. His personal expenses for ten years 
 did not average three thousand dollars per annum. 
 
 In his dress Mr. Peabody was simple and unosten- 
 tatious. He was scrupulously neat and tasteful, but 
 there was nothing about him to indicate his vast 
 wealth. He seldom wore any jewelry, using merely a 
 black band for his watch-guard. Display of all kinds 
 
252 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 he abominated. He made several visits to his native 
 country during his last residence in London, and com- 
 memorated each one of them by acts of princely 
 munificence. He gave large sums to the cause of 
 education, and to religious and charitable objects, and 
 made each one of his near kindred wealthy. None of 
 his relatives received less than one hundred thousand 
 dollars, and some were given as much as three times 
 that sum. He gave immense sums to the poor of 
 London, and became their benefactor to such an 
 extent that Queen Victoria sent him her portrait, 
 which she had caused to be executed for him at a cost 
 of over forty thousand dollars, in token of her appre- 
 ciation of his services in behalf of the poor of her 
 realm. 
 
 Mr. Peabody made another visit to the United 
 States in 1866, and upon this occasion added large 
 sums to many of the donations he had already made 
 in this country. He remained here until May, 1867, 
 when he returned to England. He came back in 
 June, 1869, but soon sailed again for England. His 
 health had become very feeble, and it was his belief 
 that it would be better in the atmosphere of London, 
 to which he had been so long accustomed. His hope 
 of recovery was vain. He failed to rally upon reach- 
 ing London, and died in that city on the 4th of 
 
GEORGE PEABODY. 253 
 
 November, 1869. The news of his death created a 
 profound sadness on both sides of the Atlantic, for 
 his native and his adopted country alike revered him 
 as a benefactor. The Queen caused his body to be 
 placed in a vault in Westminster Abbey, amidst the 
 greatest and noblest of her kingdom, until all was in 
 readiness for its transportation to the United States in 
 a royal man-of-war. The Congress of the United 
 States authorized the President to make such arrange- 
 ments for the reception of the body as he should deem 
 necessary. Sovereigns, statesmen, and warriors uni- 
 ted to do homage to the mortal remains of this plain, 
 simple man, who, beginning life a poor boy, and never 
 departing from the character of an unassuming 
 citizen, had made humanity his debtor by his generos- 
 ity and goodness. He was borne across the ocean 
 with kingly honors, two great nations acting as chief 
 mourners, and then, when the pomp and the splendor 
 of the occasion were ended, they laid him down in his 
 native earth by the side of the mother from whom he 
 had imbibed those principles of integrity and good- 
 ness which were the foundation of his fame and 
 fortune. 
 
 It is impossible to obtain an accurate statement of 
 the donations made by Mr. Peabody to the objects 
 which enlisted his sympathy. He divided among his 
 
254 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 relatives the sum of about three millions of dollars, 
 giving them a portion during his last visit to this 
 country, and leaving them the remainder at his death. 
 He donated the immense sum of $8,470,000 to various 
 educational and other worthy objects, over $3,000,000 
 of which went to the poor of London, England. 
 
 The life of such a man affords lessons full of hope 
 and encouragement to others. In 1856, when on a 
 visit to Danvers, now named Peabody, in honor of 
 him, its most distinguished son and greatest benefac- 
 tor, he said: 
 
 " Though Providence has granted me an unvaried 
 and unusual success in the pursuit of fortune in other 
 lands, I am still in heart the humble boy who left 
 yonder unpretending dwelling. There is not a youth 
 within the sound of my voice whose early opportu- 
 nities and advantages are not very much greater than 
 were my own, and I have since achieved nothing that 
 is impossible to the most humble boy among you." 
 
CORNELIUS VANDERBILT. 
 
CORNELIUSVANDERBILT. 
 
 ^~EVENTY-SIX years ago, Staten Island was a 
 
 1_^V 
 
 mere country settlement, and its communica- 
 tions with the city were maintained by means 
 of a few sail-boats, which made one trip each way 
 per day. 
 
 One of these boats was owned and navigated by 
 Cornelius Vanderbilt, a thriving farmer, who owned a 
 small but well cultivated estate on Staten Island, near 
 the present Quarantine Grounds. He was a man of 
 exemplary character and great industry. Having a 
 considerable amount of produce to sell in the city, he 
 purchased a boat of his own for the purpose of trans- 
 porting it thither. Frequently, residents of the island 
 would secure passage in this boat to the city in the 
 morning, and return with it in the evening. He 
 realized a considerable sum of money in this way, and 
 finally ran his boat regularly between the island and 
 
258 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 the city. This was the beginning of the New York 
 and Staten Island Ferry. His wife was a woman of 
 more than usual character, and aided him nobly in 
 making his way in the world. 
 
 This admirable couple were blessed with nine chil- 
 dren. The oldest of these, CORNELIUS, the subject of 
 this sketch, was born at the old farm-house on Staten 
 Island, on the 2yth of May, 1794. He was a healthy, 
 active boy, fond of all manner of out-door sports, and 
 manifesting an unusual repugnance to the confinement 
 and labors of the school-room. He has since declared 
 that the only books he remembers using at school 
 were the New Testament and the spelling-book. The 
 result was, that he merely learned to read, write, and 
 cipher, and that imperfectly. He was passionately 
 fond of the water, and was never so well pleased as 
 when his father allowed him to assist in sailing his 
 boat. When he set himself to accomplish any thing, 
 he was not, like most boys, deterred by the difficulties 
 of his undertaking, but persevered until success 
 crowned his efforts. So early did he establish his 
 reputation for overcoming obstacles, that his boyish 
 friends learned to regard any task which he undertook 
 as already virtually performed. 
 
 Young Vanderbilt was always anxious to become a 
 sailor, and, as he approached his seventeenth year, he 
 
CORNELIUS VANDERBILT. 259 
 
 determined to begin life as a boatman in the harbor 
 of New York. On the ist of May, 1810, he informed 
 his mother of his determination, and asked her to 
 lend him one hundred dollars to buy a boat. The 
 good lady had always opposed her son's wish to go to 
 sea, and regarded this new scheme as equally hair- 
 brained. As a means of discouraging him, she told 
 him if he would plow, harrow, and plant with corn a 
 certain ten-acre lot belonging to the farm, by the 
 twenty-seventh of that month, on which day he would 
 be seventeen years old, she would lend him the money. 
 The field was the worst in the whole farm; it was 
 rough, hard, and stony; but by the appointed time the 
 work was done, and well done, and the boy claimed 
 and received his money. He hurried off to a neigh- 
 boring village, and bought his boat, in which he set 
 out for home. He had not gone far, however, when 
 the boat struck a sunken wreck, and filled so rapidly 
 that the boy had barely time to get into shoal water 
 before it sank. 
 
 "Undismayed at this mishap," says Mr. Parton, 
 from whose graphic memoir the leading incidents of 
 this sketch are taken, " he began his new career. His 
 success, as we have intimated, was speedy and great. 
 He made a thousand dollars during each of the next 
 three summers. Often he worked all night; but he was 
 
260 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 never absent from his post by day, and he soon had 
 the cream of the boating business of the port. 
 
 " At that day parents claimed the services and earn- 
 ings of their children till they were twenty-one. In 
 other words, families made common cause against the 
 common enemy, Want. The arrangement between this 
 young boatman and his parents was, that he should 
 give them all his day earnings and half his night earn- 
 ings. He fulfilled his engagement faithfully until his 
 parents released him from it, and with his own half of 
 his earnings by night, he bought all his clothes. 
 
 " He soon became the best boatman in the port. 
 He had no vices. In those three years of willing 
 servitude to his parents, Cornelius Vanderbilt added 
 to the family's common stock of wealth, and gained 
 for himself three things a perfect knowledge of his 
 business, habits of industry and self-control, and the 
 best boat in the harbor." 
 
 During the war of 1812, young Vanderbilt was kept 
 very busy. The travel between the harbor defenses 
 and the city was very great, and boatmen were in 
 demand. 
 
 In 1813 he determined to marry. He had wooed 
 and won the heart of Sophia Johnson, the daughter of 
 a neighbor, and he now asked his parents' consent to 
 his marriage, and in the winter of 1813 he was married. 
 
CORNELIUS VANDERBILT. 261 
 
 His wife was a woman of unusual personal beauty ana 
 strength of character, and proved the best of partners. 
 He has often declared since that he owed his success 
 in life as much to her counsel and assistance as to his 
 own efforts. 
 
 In the spring of 1814, when it was expected that 
 New York would be attacked by a formidable British 
 military and naval expedition, he was awarded the 
 contract for conveying provisions from New York to 
 the various military posts in the vicinity. This con- 
 tract exempted him from military duty. 
 
 There were six posts to be supplied Harlem, Hell 
 Gate, Ward's Island, the Narrows, and one other in 
 the harbor, each of which was to be furnished with 
 one load per week. The young contractor performed 
 all the duties of his contract at night, which left him 
 free to attend to his boating during the day. He never 
 failed to make a single delivery of stores, or to be 
 absent from his post on the beach at Whitehall one 
 single day during the whole three months. He was 
 often without sleep, and performed an immense 
 amount of labor during this period. 
 
 He made a great deal of money that summer, and 
 with his earnings built a splendid little schooner, 
 which he named the " Dread." In 1815, in connec- 
 tion with his brother-in-law, Captain De Forrest, he 
 14 
 
262 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 built a fine schooner, called the " Charlotte," for the 
 coasting service. She was celebrated for the beauty 
 of her model and her great speed. During the three 
 years succeeding the termination of the war he saved 
 nine thousand dollars in cash, and built two or three 
 small vessels. This was his condition in 1818. 
 
 In 1818, to the surprise and dismay of his friends, 
 he gave up his flourishing business, in order to accept 
 the captaincy of a steamboat which was offered him 
 by Mr. Thomas Gibbons. The salary attached to this 
 position was one thousand dollars. He was given 
 command of a steamboat plying between New York 
 and New Brunswick. 
 
 Passengers to Philadelphia, at that day, were trans- 
 ported by steamer from New York to New Bruns- 
 wick, where they remained all night. The next morn- 
 ing they took the stage for Trenton, from which they 
 were conveyed by steamer to Philadelphia. The 
 hotel at New Brunswick was a miserable affair. When 
 Captain Vanderbilt took command of the steamer, he 
 was offered the hotel rent free, and accepted the offer. 
 He placed the house in charge of his wife, under 
 whose vigorous administration it soon acquired a great 
 popularity. 
 
 For seven years he was harassed and hampered by 
 the hostility of the State of New York, which had 
 
CORNELIUS VANDERBILT. 263 
 
 granted to Fulton and Livingston the sole right to 
 navigate New York waters by steam. Thomas Gib- 
 bons believed this law to be unconstitutional, and ran 
 his boats in defiance of it. The authorities of the 
 State resented his disregard of their monopoly, and a 
 long and vexatious warfare sprang up between them, 
 which was ended only in 1824, by the decision of the 
 Supreme Court of the United States in favor of Mr. 
 Gibbons. 
 
 After the decision of the Supreme Court placed Mr. 
 Gibbons in the full enjoyment of his rights, Captain 
 Vanderbilt was allowed to manage the line in his own 
 way, and conducted it with so much skill and vigor 
 that it paid its owner an annual profit of forty thousand 
 dollars. Mr. Gibbons offered to increase his salary to 
 five thousand dollars, but he refused to accept the 
 offer. 
 
 " I did it on principle," he said, afterward. " The 
 other captains had but one thousand, and they were 
 already jealous enough of me. Besides, I never cared 
 for money. All I ever cared for was to carry my 
 point." 
 
 In 1829 he determined to leave the service of Mr. 
 Gibbons, with whom he had been connected for eleven 
 years. He was thirty-five years old, and had saved 
 thirty thousand dollars. He resolved to build a 
 
264 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 steamer of his own, and command her himself, and 
 accordingly made known his intention to his employer. 
 Mr. Gibbons at once declared that he could not carry 
 on the line without his assistance, and told him he 
 might make his own terms if he would stay with him. 
 Captain Vanderbilt had formed his decision after 
 much thought, and being satisfied that he was doing 
 right, he persisted in his determination to set up for 
 himself. Mr. Gibbons then offered to sell him the 
 line on the spot, and to take his pay as the money 
 should be earned. It was a splendid offer, but it was 
 firmly and gratefully refused. 
 
 After leaving Mr. Gibbons he built a small steamer, 
 called the " Caroline," which he commanded himself. 
 In a few years he was the owner of several other 
 small steamers plying between New York and the 
 neighboring towns. He made slow progress at first, 
 for he had strong opposition to overcome. The 
 steamboat interest was in the hands of powerful com- 
 panies, backed by immense capital. They met their 
 match in all cases, however, for Vanderbilt inaugu- 
 rated so sharp a business opposition that the best of 
 them were forced to compromise with him. These 
 troubles were very annoying to him, and cost him 
 nearly every dollar he was worth, but he persevered, 
 and at length "carried his point." 
 
CORNELIUS YANDERBILT. 265 
 
 From that time he made his way gradually in his 
 business, until he rose to the head of the steamboat 
 interest of the United States. 
 
 He built the famous steamer "North Star," and 
 made a triumphal cruise in her to the Old World. He 
 then offered the Government to carry the mails more 
 promptly and regularly than had ever been done 
 before, and to do this for a term of years without 
 asking one single cent as subsidy. He was allowed 
 to do it. 
 
 Some years ago he tried to have a bill passed con- 
 solidating the Hudson River and Harlem Railroads, 
 and sufficient votes were promised to carry it. Un- 
 principled legislators, however, broke their promises, 
 and tried to ruin him; but he found out in time to 
 avert it, and, instead of losing, gained a large sum of 
 money; while the men who tried to ruin him, were 
 themselves ruined. 
 
 During the rebellion, Commodore Vanderbilt equip- 
 ped his splendid steamer, the " Vanderbilt," as a man- 
 of-war, and presented her to the Navy Department as 
 a free gift to the nation. 
 
 He was extremely generous to his friends, and gave 
 liberally to charitable objects. He died some few 
 years ago, and left a family of thirteen children, 
 nearly all of whom are still living. 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 
 
 'OBERT FULTON was born in ;he township of 
 Little Britain (now called Fulton), in Lan- 
 caster County, Pennsylvania, in 1765. He 
 was of Irish descent, and his father was a farmer in 
 moderate circumstances. He was the eldest son and 
 third child of a family of five children. 
 
 In 1766, Mr. Fulton, senior, disposed of his farm, 
 and removed to the town of Lancaster, where he died 
 in 1768, and there young Robert grew up under the 
 care of his mother. He learned to read and write 
 quickly, but did not manifest much fondness for his 
 books after mastering his elementary studies. He 
 early exhibited an unusual talent for drawing, however, 
 greatly preferring the employment of his pencil to the 
 more serious duties of the school. He displayed a 
 remarkable talent for mechanism, which was greatly 
 assisted by his skill in drawing, and his visits to the 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 269 
 
 machine shops were always welcomed by both the 
 apprentices and their employers, who recognized the 
 unusual genius of the boy, and predicted great things 
 for him in the future. 
 
 The boyhood of Fulton was passed during the 
 stormy period of the Revolution, and in a section so 
 close to the theater of war that he was in the midst of 
 all the excitement engendered by the conflict. He 
 was an ardent patriot from the first, and used his 
 pencil freely to caricature all who showed the slightest 
 leaning to the cause of the enemy. 
 
 In 1778, when he was thirteen years old, he bought 
 some powder and several large sheets of pasteboard, 
 and made rockets after his own model, for the purpose 
 of celebrating the 4th of July. 
 
 " In the summer of 1779, Robert Fulton evinced an 
 extraordinary fondness for inventions. He was a fre- 
 quent visitor of Mr. Messersmith's and Mr. Fenno's 
 gunsmith shops, almost daily, and endeavored to 
 manufacture a small air-gun." 
 
 About this time he planned and completed a small 
 working model of a fishing boat, with paddle-wheels. 
 
 Having chosen the profession of an artist and 
 portrait painter, young Fulton removed to Philadel- 
 phia at the age of seventeen, and remained there, 
 pursuing his vocation, until the completion of his 
 
270 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 twenty-first year. He formed there the acquaintance 
 of Benjamin Franklin, by whom he was much noticed. 
 His success was rapid, and upon attaining his major- 
 ity he was enabled to purchase and stock a farm of 
 eighty-four acres in Washington County, Pennsylvania, 
 which he gave to his mother for a home as long as 
 she should live. Having thus insured her comfort, he 
 went to England for the purpose of completing his 
 studies in his profession. He took with him letters to 
 Benjamin West, then at the height of his fame, and 
 living in London. He was cordially received by Mr. 
 West, who was also a native of Pennsylvania, and re- 
 mained an inmate of his family for several years. 
 
 Upon leaving the family of Mr. West, Fulton com- 
 menced a tour for the purpose of examining the 
 treasures of art contained in the residences of the 
 English nobility, and remained for two years in 
 Devonshire. There he became acquainted with the 
 Duke of Bridgewater, and it is said that he was induced 
 by this nobleman to abandon the profession of an 
 artist, and enter upon that of a civil engineer. Here 
 he also met with Watt, who had just produced the 
 steam-engine, which Fulton studied enthusiastically. 
 His own inventive genius was not idle, and while liv- 
 ing in Devonshire, he produced an improved mill for 
 sawing marble, which won him the thanks and medal 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 271 
 
 of the British Society for the Promotion of the Arts 
 and Commerce; a machine for spinning flax and mak- 
 ing ropes; and an excavator for scooping out the 
 channels of canals and aqueducts, all of which were 
 patented. He published a number of communica- 
 tions on the subject of canals in one of the leading 
 London journals, and a treatise upon the same sub- 
 ject. Having obtained a patent in England for canal 
 improvements, he went to France in 1797, with the 
 design of introducing them in that country. He re- 
 mained in Paris seven years, residing during that time 
 with Mr. Joel Barlow, and devoting himself to the 
 study of modern languages, and engineering and its 
 kindred sciences. 
 
 His work was continuous and severe in Paris. He 
 invented and painted the first panorama ever exhibited 
 in that city, which he sold for the purpose of raising 
 money for his experiments in steam navigation; he 
 also designed a. series of splendid colored illustrations 
 for The Columbiad, the famous poem of his friend Mr. 
 Barlow. Besides these, he invented a number of im- 
 provements in canals, aqueducts, inclined planes, 
 boats, and guns, which yielded him considerable 
 credit, but very little profit. 
 
 Fulton also invented a torpedo, or infernal machine, 
 for the purpose of destroying vessels of war by 
 
272 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 approaching them under water and breaking up their 
 hulls by the explosion. At one time, when it was 
 thought that England would purchase Fulton's inven- 
 tion, it was intimated to him that he would be required 
 to pledge himself not to dispose of it to any other 
 power. He replied promptly: 
 
 " Whatever may be your award, I never will consent 
 to let these inventions lie dormant should my country 
 at any time have need of them. Were you to grant 
 me an annuity of twenty thousand pounds, I would 
 sacrifice all to the safety and independence of my 
 country." 
 
 In 1806, Mr. Fulton returned to New York, and in 
 the same year he married Miss Harriet Livingston, a 
 niece of Chancellor Livingston, by whom he had four 
 children. He offered his torpedo to the General 
 Government, but the trial to which it was subjected 
 by the Navy Department was unsuccessful for him, 
 and the Government declined to purchase the inven- 
 tion. 
 
 But it was not as the inventor of engines of destruc- 
 tion that Robert Fulton was to achieve fame. From 
 the time that Fulton had designed the paddle-wheels 
 for his fishing-boat, he had never ceased to give his 
 attention to the subject of propelling vessels by 
 machinery, and after his acquaintance with Watt, he 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 273 
 
 was more than ever convinced that the steam-engine 
 could, under proper circumstances, be made to furnish 
 the motive power. 
 
 It was in the face of many failures that Fulton 
 applied himself to the task of designing a successful 
 steamboat. During his residence in Paris he had 
 made the acquaintance of Mr. Robert R. Livingstone, 
 then the American minister in France, who had pre- 
 viously been connected with some unsuccessful steam- 
 boat experiments at home. Mr. Livingston joined 
 heartily with him in his efforts to prove his theories 
 by experiments, and it was finally agreed between 
 them to build a large boat for trial on the Seine. This 
 experimental steamer was furnished with paddle 
 wheels, and was completed and launched early in the 
 spring of 1803. Before it could be tried, however, 
 the weight of the machinery carried it to the bottom 
 of the river. He at once set to work to raise the 
 machinery, devoting twenty-four hours, without rest- 
 ing or eating, to the undertaking, and succeeded in 
 doing so, but inflicted upon his constitution a strain 
 from which he never entirely recovered. The machin- 
 ery was very slightly damaged, but it was necessary to 
 rebuild the boat entirely. This was accomplished by 
 July of the same year, and the boat was tried in 
 August with triumphant success, in the presence of 
 
274 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 the French National Institute and a vast crowd of the 
 citizens of Paris. 
 
 This steamer was very defective, but still so great 
 an improvement upon all that had preceded it, that 
 Messrs. Fulton and Livingston determined to build one 
 on a larger scale in the waters of New York, the right 
 of navigating which by steam vessels had been secured 
 by the latter as far back as 1798. The law which 
 granted this right had been continued from time to 
 time through Mr. Livingston's influence, and was 
 finally amended so as to include Fulton within its pro- 
 visions. Having resolved to return home, Fulton set 
 out as soon as possible, stopping in England on his 
 return, to order an engine for his boat from Watt and 
 Boulton. He gave an exact description of the 
 engine, which was built in strict accordance with his 
 plan, but declined to state the use to which he in- 
 tended putting it. 
 
 Very soon after his arrival in New York, he com- 
 menced building his first American boat, and finding 
 that her cost would greatly exceed his estimate, he 
 offered for sale a third interest in the monopoly of the 
 navigation of the waters of New York, held by Living- 
 ston and himself, in order to raise money to build the 
 boat, and thus lighten the burdens of himself and his 
 partner, but he could find no one willing to risk 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 275 
 
 money in such a scheme. Scientific men ana ama- 
 teurs all agreed in pronouncing Fulton's scheme im- 
 practicable; but he went on with his work, his boat 
 attracting no less attention and exciting no less ridi- 
 cule than the ark had received from the scoffers in the 
 days of Noah. The steam-engine ordered from 
 Boulton and Watt was received in the latter part of 
 1806; and in the following spring the boat was launched 
 from the ship-yard of Charles Brown, on the East 
 River. Fulton named her the " Clermont," after the 
 country seat of his friend and partner, Chancellor 
 Livingston. She was one hundred and sixty tons 
 burthen, one hundred and thirty feet long, eighteen 
 feet wide, and seven feet deep. Her engine was made 
 with a single cylinder, two feet in diameter, and of 
 four feet stroke; and her boiler was twenty feet long, 
 seven feet deep, and eight feet broad. The diameter 
 of the paddle-wheels was fifteen feet, the boards four 
 feet long, and dipping two feet in the water. The boat 
 was completed about the last of August, and she was 
 moved by her machinery from the East River into the 
 Hudson, and over to the Jersey shore. This trial, 
 brief as it was, satisfied Fulton of its success, and he 
 announced that in a few days the steamer would sail 
 from New York for Albany. A few friends, including 
 several scientific men and mechanics, were invited to 
 
276 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 take passage in the boat, to witness her performance; 
 and they accepted the invitation with a general con- 
 viction that they were to do but little more than wit- 
 ness another failure. 
 
 Monday, September 10, 1807, came at length, and a 
 vast crowd assembled along the shore of the North 
 River to witness the starting. Precisely at one o'clock 
 the hour for sailing the moorings were thrown off, 
 and the " Clermont " moved slowly out into the 
 stream. In a little while she was fairly under weigh, 
 and making a steady progress up the stream at the 
 rate of five miles per hour. Fulton soon discovered 
 that the .paddles were too long, and took too deep a 
 hold on the water, and stopped the boat for the pur- 
 pose of shortening them. 
 
 Having remedied this defect, the " Clermont " con- 
 tinued her voyage during the rest of the day and all 
 night, without stopping, and at one o'clock the next 
 day ran alongside the landing at Clermont, the seat of 
 Chancellor Livingston. She lay there until nine the 
 next morning, when she continued her voyage toward 
 Albany, reaching that city at five in the afternoon, 
 having made the entire distance between New York 
 and Albany (one hundred and fifty miles) in thirty-two 
 hours of actual running time, an average speed of 
 nearly five miles per hour. On her return trip, she 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 277 
 
 reached New York in thirty hours running time 
 exactly five miles per hour. Fulton states that during 
 both trips he encountered a head wind. She con- 
 tinued to ply regularly between New York and Albany 
 until the close of navigation for that season, always 
 carrying a full complement of passengers, and more or 
 less freight. During the winter she was overhauled 
 and enlarged, and her speed improved. In the spring 
 of 1808 she resumed her regular trips, and since then 
 steam navigation on the Hudson has not ceased for a 
 single day, except during the closing of the river by 
 ice. 
 
 In 1811 and 1812, Fulton built two steam ferry- 
 boats for the North River, and soon after added a third 
 for the East River. These boats were the beginning of 
 the magnificent steam ferry system which is to-day one 
 of the chief wonders of New York. 
 
 Early in 1814, the city of New York was seriously 
 menaced with an attack from the British fleet, and 
 Fulton, at the request of a committee of citizens, pre- 
 pared plans for a vessel of war to be propelled by 
 steam, capable of carrying a strong battery, with 
 furnaces for red-hot shot, and which, he represented, 
 would move at the rate of four miles an hour. In 
 March, 1814, Congress authorized the building of one 
 or more floating batteries after the plan presented bv 
 
278 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 Fulton. Her keel was laid on the 20th of June, 1814, 
 and on the 3ist of October of the same year, she was 
 launched, amid great rejoicings, from the ship-yard of 
 Adam and Noah Brown. In May, 1815, her engines 
 were put on board, and on the 4th of July of that 
 year she made a trial trip to Sandy Hook and back, 
 accomplishing the round trip a distance of fifty-three 
 miles in eight hours and twenty minutes, under steam 
 alone. Before this, however, peace had been pro- 
 claimed, and Fulton had gone to rest from his labors. 
 The ship was a complete success, and was the first 
 steam vessel of war ever built. 
 
 Fulton followed up the " Clermont," in 1807, with a 
 larger boat, called the " Car of Neptune," which was 
 placed on the Albany route as soon as completed. 
 In 1809 Fulton obtained his first patent from the 
 United States; and in 1811 he took out a second 
 patent for some improvement in his boats and ma- 
 chinery. His patents were limited to the simple 
 means of adapting paddle wheels to the axle of the 
 crank of Watt's engine. 
 
 He died on the 24th of February, 1815, at the age 
 of fifty years. He left a widow and four children. 
 By the terms of his will he bequeathed to his wife an 
 income of nine thousand dollars a year, and five hun- 
 dred dollars to each of his children until they were 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 279 
 
 twelve years old, after which they were each to receive 
 one thousand dollars a year until they should attain 
 the age of twenty-one years. 
 
 In person, Fulton was tall and handsome. His 
 manner was polished, cordial, and winning. He made 
 friends rapidly, and never failed in his efforts to enlist 
 capital and influence in support of his schemes. He 
 was manly, fearless, and independent in character, and 
 joined to a perfect integrity a patience and indomi- 
 table resolution which enabled him to bear up under 
 every disappointment, and which won him in the end 
 a glorious success. 
 
GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD. 
 
 "T has been observed by an eminent philosopher 
 that some men make themselves great, and some 
 men have greatness thrust upon them. While 
 
 the presidential nomination fell upon General Garfield 
 with all the suddenness of the lighning bolt to which 
 it is so often likened, it is the only stroke of pure 
 good fortune that ever fell to him. His success, his 
 position before the country, were the results of his 
 untiring industry and his sturdy sense of duty. He 
 never had the advantages of wealth nor of family 
 connections, and he kept himself in Congress for 
 seventeen years by a popularity based on his character 
 and his legitimate work as a legislator, and not by 
 artifice or trimming. 
 
 James Abram Garfield was born in Orange, 
 Cuyahoga County, Ohio, fifteen miles from Cleveland, 
 Nov. 10, 1831. His father was a farmer in moderate 
 
GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD. 283 
 
 circumstances, and died when James was only two 
 years old. There were three other children. 
 
 All the children had to work hard, as the widow had 
 but scanty means of support for her family. James 
 worked on the farm in summer and in a carpenter's 
 shop in the winter. Finding that he could make better 
 wages working on the Ohio canal, he secured employ- 
 ment first as driver on the towpath and afterward as 
 helmsman. He intended at one time to ship as a sea- 
 man on a lake vessel, but his plans were changed by 
 a fit of sickness, and his intentions were turned in 
 another direction. He had from early boyhood felt a 
 very keen desire for an education, and had been 
 i laboriously saving money to enable him to go to 
 school. After recovering from the fit of sickness just 
 referred to, he became a pupil of the Geanga academy, 
 near his home. His mother was able to let him have 
 a little money, and this she supplemented with some 
 provisions and cooking utensils, and he boarded him- 
 self at school. After this start that his mother gave 
 him, he never called on her for assistance. He spent 
 all his odd hours at the carpenter's bench, taught 
 school winters, and thus managed to support himself, 
 attend the regular terms of the academy, and save 
 some money for a college education. Having a very 
 retentive memory, he learned with comparative ease. 
 
284 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 A reminiscence of his earlier manhood is found in 
 the recital given by one Capt. Stiles, the present sheriff 
 of Ashtabula County, Ohio. In 1850, Capt. Stiles 
 relates, Garfield taught the district school of Stiles' 
 district, and "boarded around." Like many other 
 school-masters of pioneer days, Garfield's wardrobe 
 was scanty, consisting of but one suit of blue jean. 
 One day the schoolmaster was so unfortunate as to 
 
 
 
 rend his pantaloons across the knee in an unseemly 
 degree. He pinned up the rend as best he could, 
 and went to the homestead of the Stiles' where he 
 was then boarding. Good Mrs. Stiles cheeringly 
 said to the unfortunate pedagogue, " Oh, well, James, 
 never mind ; you go to bed early and I will put a 
 nice patch under that tear and darn it up all nice so 
 that it will last all winter, and when you get to be 
 United States Senator, nobody will ask you what 
 kind of clothes you wore when you were keeping 
 school." When Gen. Garfield was elected Senator 
 from the State of Ohio, Mrs. Stiles, who is still a 
 hale old lady, sent her congratulations to him and 
 reminded him of the torn pantaloons ; and for her 
 kindly congratulations she received a most touching 
 reply from the newly elected Senator, assuring her 
 that the incident was fresh in his memory. 
 
 At the age of 23 years he had education enough to 
 
GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD. 285 
 
 enter the junior class at college, and money enough to 
 support him at college for a year. He borrowed 
 enough money to support him another year, and in 
 1854 he entered the junior class of Williams College. 
 In 1856 he graduated with honors. 
 
 When Garfield returned to Ohio, he obtained the 
 Professorship of Latin and Greek in the little college 
 at Hiram, Portage County, Ohio. He devoted him- 
 self assiduously not only to the instruction of his 
 classes, but to the better establishment of the college, 
 and he had not been professor two years when he was 
 made president. The college was under the control 
 of the Campbellite denomination, a body with which 
 he had connected himself before going to college. As 
 president of the college he pursued his own studies 
 while teaching others, constantly adding to his stock 
 of information. The Campbellites have no ordained 
 ministry, and on Sundays President Garfield often 
 addressed the congregations of his denomination, but 
 he never contemplated devoting himself to the minis- 
 try as a regular thing. His preaching was merely 
 incidental. 
 
 While a professor of Greek and Latin, Gen. Gar- 
 field was very happily married to Miss Lucretia 
 Rudolph, daughter of a neighboring farmer. As a. 
 girl, she was quiet, thoughtful, refined. As a woman, 
 
286 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 her qualities of mind, as well as of heart, have 
 contributed materially to her husband's successful 
 career. Several children were born to Gen. and 
 Mrs. Garfield, two of whom have died. Harry and 
 James, the two oldest children, are now strong 
 young men. Molly, the only daughter, is a young 
 lady. The youngest children are two boys, Irwin 
 and Abram. 
 
 The General's political career began in 1859. He 
 was elected at that time to the State Senate, but did 
 not resign his college presidency, having no idea then 
 of a public career. But the war came to alter all his 
 plans. During the winter of 1861 he was active in 
 the passage of measures for arming the State militia, 
 and his eloquence and energy made him a conspicu- 
 ous leader of the Union party. Early in the summer 
 of 18G1, he was elected Colonel of an infantry regi- 
 ment (the 42d) raised in Northern Ohio, many of the 
 soldiers in which had been students at Hiram. He 
 took the field in Eastern Kentucky, was soon put 
 in command of a brigade, and by making one of the 
 hardest marches ever made by recruits, surprised and 
 routed the rebel forces, under Humphrey Marshal, 
 at Piketon. 
 
 From Eastern Kentucky Gen. Garfield was trans- 
 ferred to Louisville, and from that place hastened to 
 
GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD. 287 
 
 join the army of Gen. Buell, which he reached with 
 his brigade in time to participate in the second day's 
 fighting at Pittsburg Landing. He took part in the 
 siege of Corinth, and in the operations along the 
 Memphis and Charleston railroad. In January, 1863, 
 he was appointed chief of staff of the army of the 
 Cumberland, and bore a prominent share in all the 
 campaigns in middle Tennessee in the spring and 
 summer of that year. His last conspicuous military 
 service was at the battle of Chickamauga. For his 
 conduct in that battle he was promoted to a Major- 
 Generalship. 
 
 General Garfield was nominated for Congress in 
 1862, while he was in the field, without asking his con- 
 sent. When he heard of the nomination, Garfield re- 
 flected that it would be fifteen months before the 
 Congress would meet to which he would be elected, 
 and believing, as did everyone else, that the war could 
 not possibly last a year longer, concluded to accept. 
 
 He remained in the field till his term of office 
 began, and, the war being then in progress, expressed 
 considerable regret that he had accepted the election. 
 
 On entering Congress, in December, 1863, General 
 Garfield was placed upon the committee on military 
 affairs, with Schenck and Farnsworth, who were also 
 fresh from the field. He took an active part in the 
 
288 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 debates of the House, and won a recognition which 
 tew new members succeeded in gaining. He was not 
 popular among his fellow-members during his first 
 term. They thought him something of a pedant 
 because he sometimes showed his scholarship in his 
 speeches, and they were jealous of his prominence. 
 His solid attainments and amiable social qualities 
 enabled him to overcome this prejudice during his 
 second term, and he became on terms of close friend- 
 ship with the best men in both Houses. His commit- 
 tee service during his second term was on the ways 
 and means, which was quite to his taste, for it gave 
 him an opportunity to prosecute the studies in finance 
 and political economy which he had always felt a 
 fondness for. He was a hard worker and a great 
 reader in those days, going home with his arms full of 
 books from the Congressional library, and sitting up 
 late nights to read them. It was then that he laid the 
 foundations of the convictions on the subject of 
 national finance which he uniformly held to firmly 
 amid all the storms of political agitation. He was re- 
 nominated in 1864, without opposition ; but in 18G6 
 Mr. Hutchins, whom he had supplanted, made an 
 effort to defeat him. Hutchins canvassed the district 
 thoroughly, but the convention nominated Garfield 
 by acclamation. Thereafter he had no opposition in 
 
GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD. 289 
 
 his own party. In 1872 the Liberals and Democrats 
 united to beat him, but his majority was larger than 
 ever. In 1874 the Greenbackers and Democrats 
 combined and put up a popular soldier against him, 
 but they made no impression on the result. 
 
 When James G. Elaine went to the Senate, in 1877, 
 the mantle of Republican leadership in the House 
 was by common consent placed upon Garfield, and 
 he wore it with honor. 
 
 In January, 1880, General Garfield was elected to 
 the Senate to the seat which was vacated by Allen G. 
 Thurman on the 4th of March, 1881. He received 
 the unanimous vote of the Republican caucus, an 
 honor never given to any other man of any party in 
 the State of Ohio. 
 
 General Garfield acquired a large influence in 
 Congress, and commanded the respect of both parties, 
 as few other men did. This respect was based on an 
 open, cordial disposition, and the universally acknowl- 
 edged sincerity and ability of the man. He was 
 notable for his studious and methodical habits. He 
 was found on one occasion in the Congressional 
 library, poring over a table full of editions of Horace, 
 and critical works regarding that poet. He explained 
 his occupation by saying that he found he was over- 
 worked, and he was resting himself by applying his 
 
290 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 i 
 
 40 
 
 mind to subjects having no connection with his Con- 
 gressional duties. 
 
 What a grand scene was that in the Senate 
 chamber, in the great rotunda, and on the porch of 
 the Capitol, when General Gasfield took the oath of 
 office and delivered his inaugural address ! He was 
 calm and firm in all his movements before the 
 assembled thousands, and his voice was clear and 
 strong as he read his recommendations concerning 1 a 
 
 O o 
 
 better civil service. How little did he know that he 
 must give his life for those principles, before the 
 people could be made to realize the situation. 
 
 Among the thousands of persistent hunters for 
 office who followed General Garfield and intruded 
 themselves upon his notice, was Charles J. Guiteau. 
 He was born in Freeport, Illinois, and was by pro- 
 fession a lawyer. He was not long in the practice of 
 law, owing to the fact that in Chicago and New 
 York, the only places where he opened an office he 
 was unable to obtain business. He seems to have 
 been from earliest boyhood an erratic, self-willed, 
 cruel character. He dogged the President's footsteps 
 seeking office, and mortified at his failure he deter- 
 mined to have revenge. Various schemes suggested 
 themselves to him, according to his own confession, 
 which would bring disgrace and failure upon the 
 administration and shame upon the Piesident, but 
 none would or could satisfy him but the murder of 
 General Garfield. Arming himself with a heavy 
 revolver, he determined to obtain his revenge by 
 
GEN. JAS. A. GARFIELD. 291 
 
 shooting the President. On Friday, the 1st day of 
 July, 1881, Guiteau saw by the papers that the Presi- 
 dent intended to take the train for New York the 
 next morning. On the morning of July 2d he loaded 
 his revolver and quietly waited at the railway station 
 for his victim. The President passed him and he 
 fired the first shot. He was so close to his victim 
 that he saw that his aim had not been true, and as 
 the startled President leaped one side the assassin 
 took a surer aim and fired the second time with 
 deadly effect. The awful calamity was telegraphed 
 to all parts of the world, striking horror to all hearts. 
 After months of heroic, patient suffering, the Presi- 
 dent expired peacefully and calmly. 
 
 Everywhere there was weeping, and the messages 
 of condolence which came to Mrs. Garfield were as 
 sincere as they were numerous. One of the first 
 received was from the Queen of England, and read 
 as follows : 
 
 BALMORAL. 
 
 "Words cannot express the deep sympathy I feel 
 with you. May God support and comfort you, as 
 He alone can. 
 
 " Signed THE QUEEN." 
 
 Towns, cities, and states, republics and kingdoms, 
 including nearly every nation on earth, sent their 
 messages of sympathy. The exhibition of a grief so 
 world-wide was a sublime event, and something new 
 in the world's history. 
 
ELIAS HOWE. 
 
 A 
 
 HOWE was born in the town of Spencer, 
 Massachusetts, in 1819. He was one of eight 
 children. His father was a farmer and miller, 
 and, as was the custom at that time in the country 
 towns of New England, carried on in his family some 
 of those minor branches of industry suited to the 
 capacity of children, with which New England abounds. 
 When Elias was six years old, he was set, with his 
 brothers and sisters, to sticking wire teeth through the 
 leather straps used for making cotton cards. When 
 he became old enough, he assisted his father in his 
 saw-mill and grist-mill, and during the winter months 
 picked up a meager education at the district schooU 
 He was not fitted for hard work, however, as he was 
 frail in constitution and incapable of bearing much 
 fatigue. Moreover, he inherited a species of lameness 
 which proved a great obstacle to any undertaking OB 
 
ELIAS HOWE. 203 
 
 his part, and gave him no little trouble all through life. 
 At the age of eleven he went to live out on the farm 
 of a neighbor, but the labor proving too severe for 
 him, he returned home and resumed his place in his 
 father's mills, where he remained until he was sixteen 
 years old. 
 
 When at this age, he conceived an ardent desire to 
 go to Lowell to seek his fortune. Obtaining his father's 
 consent, he went there, and found employment as a 
 learner in one of the large cotton mills of the city. 
 He remained there two years, when the great financial 
 disaster of 1837 threw him out of employment and 
 compelled him to look for work elsewhere. He obtained 
 a place at Cambridge, in a machine-shop, and was put 
 to work upon the new hemp-carding machinery of 
 Professor Treadwell. 
 
 Howe remained in Cambridge only a few months, 
 however, and was then given a place in the machine- 
 shop of Ari Davis, of Boston. 
 
 At the age of twenty-one he married. This was a 
 rash step for him, as his health was very delicate, and 
 his earnings were but nine dollars per week. Three 
 children were born to him in quick succession, and he 
 found it no easy task to provide food, shelter and 
 clothing for his little family. The light-heartedness 
 for which he had formerly been noted entirely deserted 
 
SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 him, and he became sad and melancholy. His health 
 did not improve, and it was with difficulty that he 
 could perform his daily task. His strength was so 
 slight that he would frequently return home from his 
 day's work too much exhausted to eat. He could only 
 go to bed, and in his agony he wished " to lie in bed 
 forever and ever." Still he worked faithfully and con- 
 scientiously, for his wife and children were very dear 
 to him; but he did so with a hopelessness which only 
 those who have tasted the depths of poverty can 
 understand. 
 
 About this time he heard it said that the great 
 necessity of the age was a machine for doing sewing, 
 and it was conceded by all who thought of the matter 
 at all, that the man who could invent such a machine 
 would make a fortune. Howe's poverty inclined him 
 to listen to these remarks with great interest. He set 
 to work to achieve the task, and, as he knew well the 
 dangers which surround an inventor, kept his own 
 counsel. He watched his wife as she sewed, and his 
 first effort was to devise a machine which should do 
 what she was doing. He made a needle pointed at 
 both ends, with the eye in the middle, that should 
 work up and down through the cloth, and carry the 
 thread through at each thrust; but his elaboration of 
 this conception would not work satisfactorily. It was 
 
ELIAS HOWE. 295 
 
 not until 1844, over a year after he began the attempt 
 to invent the machine, that he conceived the idea of 
 using two threads, and forming a stitch by the aid of 
 a shuttle and a curved needle with the eye near the 
 point This was the triumph of his skill. Satisfied 
 that he had at length solved the problem, he con- 
 structed a rough model of his machine of wood and 
 wire, in October, 1844, and operated it to his perfect 
 satisfaction. 
 
 At this time, he had abandoned his work as a 
 journeyman mechanic, and had removed to his father's 
 house. His father had established in Cambridge a 
 machine-shop for the cutting of strips of palm-leaf 
 used in the manufacture of hats. Elias and his family 
 lived under his father's roof, and in the garret of the 
 house the half-sick inventor put up a lathe, where he 
 did a little work on his own account, and labored on 
 his sewing-machine. He was miserably poor, and 
 could scarcely earn enough to provide food for his 
 family; and, to make matters worse, his father, who 
 was disposed to help him, lost his shop and its con- 
 tents by fire. Poor Elias was in a most deplorable 
 condition. He had his model in his head, and was 
 fully satisfied of its excellence, but he had not the 
 money to buy the materials needed in making a per- 
 fect machine, which would have to be constructed of 
 
296 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 steel and iron, and without which he could not hope 
 to convince others of its value. His great invention 
 was useless to him without the five hundred dollars 
 which he needed in the construction of a working 
 model. 
 
 In this dilemma, he applied to a friend, Mr. George 
 Fisher, a coal and wood merchant of Cambridge, who 
 was a man of some means. He explained his inven- 
 tion to him, and succeeded in forming a partnership 
 with him. Fisher agreed to take Howe and his family 
 to board with him while the latter was making the 
 machine, to allow his garret to be used as a workshop, 
 and to advance the five hundred dollars necessary for 
 the purchase of tools and the construction of a model. 
 In return for this he was to receive one-half of the 
 patent, if Howe succeeded in patenting his machine. 
 About the first of December, 1844, Howe and his 
 family accordingly moved into Fisher's house, and the 
 little workshop was set up in the garret. He worked 
 all day, and sometimes nearly all night, and in April, 
 1845, had his machine so far advanced that he sewed 
 a seam with it. By the middle of May the machine 
 was completed, and in July he sewed with it the seams 
 of two woolen suits, one for himself and the other for 
 Mr. Fisher. The sewing was so well done that it out- 
 lasted the cloth. 
 
ELIAS HOWE. 297 
 
 Having patented his machine, Howe endeavored to 
 bring it into use. He first offered it to the tailors of 
 Boston; but they, while admitting its usefulness, told 
 him it would never be adopted by their trade, as it 
 would ruin them. Other efforts were equally unsuc- 
 cessful. Every one admitted and praised the ingenuity 
 of the machine, but no one would invest a dollar in 
 it. Fisher became disgusted, and withdrew from his 
 partnership, and Howe and his family moved back 
 to his father's house. Thoroughly disheartened, he 
 abandoned his machine. He then obtained a place as 
 engineer on a railroad, and drove a locomotive until 
 his health entirely broke down. 
 
 With the loss of his health his hopes revived, and 
 he determined to seek in England the victory which 
 he had failed to win here. Unable to go himself, he 
 sent his machine by his brother Amasa, in October, 
 1846. There he found Mr. William Thomas, of 
 Cheapside, London, and explained to him his brother's 
 invention. Mr. Thomas offered the sum of twelve 
 hundred and fifty dollars for the machine which 
 Amasa Howe had brought with him, and agreed to 
 pay Elias fifteen dollars per week if he would enter 
 his service, and adapt the machine to his business of 
 umbrella and corset making. Elias accepted the offer, 
 
 and, upon his brother's return to the United States, 
 16 
 
298 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 i 
 
 sailed for England. He remained in Mr. Thomas's 
 
 employ for about eight months, and at the end of that 
 time left him, having found him hard, exacting, and 
 unreasonable. 
 
 Meanwhile his sick wife and three children had 
 joined him in London, and he had found it hard to 
 provide for them on the wages given him by Mr. 
 Thomas; but after being thrown out of employment 
 his condition was desperate indeed. He was in a 
 strange country, without friends or money, and often 
 he and his little family went whole days without food. 
 Their sufferings were very great, but at length Howe 
 was able (probably by assistance from home) to send 
 his family back to his father's house. He himself re- 
 mained in London, still hoping to bring his machine 
 into use. It was in vain, however, and so, collecting 
 what few household goods he had acquired in Eng- 
 land, he shipped them to America, and followed them 
 thither himself in another vessel, pawning his model 
 and patent papers to pay his passage. When he 
 landed in New York he had half a crown in his pocket, 
 and there came to him on the same day a letter telling 
 him that his wife was dying with consumption in 
 Cambridge. He was compelled to wait several days, 
 as he was too feeble to walk, until he could obtain the 
 money for his fare to Cambridge, but at length sue- 
 
ELIAS HOWE. 299 
 
 ceeded in reaching that place jn^t in time to see his 
 wife die. In the midst of his grief he received the 
 announcement that the vessel containing the few 
 household goods which he had shipped from England 
 had been lost at sea. It seemed to him that Fate was 
 bent upon destroying him, so rapid and stunning were 
 the blows she dealt him. 
 
 Soon after his return home, however, he obtained 
 profitable employment, and, better still, discovered 
 that his machine had become famous during his ab- 
 sence. Fac-similes of it had been constructed by un- 
 scrupulous mechanics, who paid no attention to the 
 patents of the inventor, and these copies had been ex- 
 hibited in many places as " wonders," and had even 
 been adopted in many important branches of manu- 
 facture. Howe at once set to work to defend his 
 rights. He found friends to aid him, and in August, 
 1850, began those famous suits which continued for 
 four years, and were at length decided in his favor. 
 
 In 1850, Howe removed to New York, and began 
 in a small way to manufacture machines to order. He 
 was in partnership with a Mr. Bliss, but for several 
 years the business was so unimportant that upon the 
 death of his partner, in 1855, he was enabled to buy 
 out that gentleman's interest, and thus become the sole 
 proprietor of his patent. Soon after this his business 
 
300 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 began to increase, and continued until his own proper 
 profits and the royalty which the courts compelled 
 other manufacturers to pay him for the use of his in- 
 vention grew from $300 to $200,000 per annum. In 
 1867, when the extension of his patent expired, it is 
 stated that he had earned a total of two millions of 
 dollars by it. It cost him large sums to defend his 
 rights, however, and he was very far from being as 
 wealthy as was commonly supposed, although a very 
 rich man. 
 
 In the Paris Exposition of 1867, he exhibited his 
 machines, and received the gold medal of the Exposi- 
 tion, and the Cross of the Legion of Honor in 
 addition, as a compliment to him as a manufacturer 
 and inventor. 
 
 He contributed money liberally to the aid of the 
 Union in the late war, and enlisted as a private soldier 
 in the Seventeenth Regiment of Connecticut Volun- 
 teers. He died at Brooklyn, Long Island, on the 3d 
 of October, 1867. 
 
^ --'"in sg. ;i 
 
 
 
 HIRAM POWERS. 
 
HIRAM POWERS. 
 
 l^IRAM POWERS was born in Woodstock, Ver- 
 mont, on the 29th of July, 1805. He was the 
 eighth in a family of nine children, and was 
 the son of a farmer who found it hard to provide his 
 little household with the necessaries of life. He 
 grew up as most New England boys do, sound and 
 vigorous in health, passing the winters in attendance 
 upon the district schools, and the summers in working 
 on the farm. " The only distinctive trait exhibited 
 by the child was mechanical ingenuity; he excelled 
 in caricature, was an adept in constructiveness, having 
 made countless wagons, windmills, and weapons for 
 his comrades, attaining the height of juvenile reputa- 
 tion as the inventor of what he called a ' patent fuse.' 
 
 His father was induced to become security for one 
 of his friends, and, as frequently happens, lost all he 
 had in consequence. Following close upon this dis- 
 
304 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 aster came a dreadful famine in the State, caused by 
 an almost total failure of the crops. 
 
 One of the sons had managed to secure an educa- 
 tion at Dartmouth College, and had removed to Cin- 
 cinnati, where he was at this time editing a newspaper. 
 Thither his father, discouraged by the famine, deter- 
 mined to follow him. Accordingly, placing his house- 
 hold goods and his family in three wagons, and being 
 joined by another family, he set out on the long 
 journey to the West. This was in 1819, when young 
 Hiram was fourteen years old. In due time they 
 reached the Ohio River, down which stream they 
 floated on a flatboat until they came to Cincinnati, 
 then a city of fourteen thousand inhabitants. 
 
 Through the assistance of his eldest son, the editor, 
 Mr. Powers was enabled to secure a farm not far from 
 Cincinnati, and removing his family to it, began the 
 task of clearing and cultivating it. Unfortunately for 
 the new-comers, the farm was located on the edge of 
 a pestilential marsh, the poisonous exhalations of 
 which soon brought the whole family down with the 
 ague. Mr. Powers the elder died from this disease, 
 and Hiram was ill and disabled from it for a whole 
 year. The family was broken up and scattered, and 
 our hero, incapable of performing hard work so soon 
 *fter his sicVpes*. obtained a place in a produce store 
 
HIRAM POWERS. 305 
 
 in Cincinnati, his duty being to watch the principal 
 road by which the farmers' wagons, laden with grain 
 and corn whisky, came into the city, and to inform 
 the men in charge of them that they could obtain bet- 
 ter prices for their produce from his employers than 
 from any other merchant in the city. It was also a 
 part of his duty to help to roll the barrels from the 
 wagons to the store. He made a very good " drum- 
 mer," and gave satisfaction to his employers, but as 
 the concern soon broke up, he was again without em- 
 ployment. 
 
 His brother, the editor, now came to his assistance, 
 and made a bargain with the landlord of a hotel in 
 the city to establish a reading-room at his hotel. The 
 landlord was to provide the room and obtain a few 
 paying subscribers ; the editor was to stock it with his 
 exchange newspapers, and Hiram was to be put in 
 charge of it and receive what could be made by it. 
 The reading-room was established, but as the landlord 
 failed to comply with his agreement, Powers was forced 
 to abandon the undertaking. 
 
 About that time, a clock-maker and organ-builder 
 employed him to collect bad debts in the country. He 
 succeeded so well that his employer offered to give 
 him a place in the factory, saying there would always 
 be plenty of rough work at which an inexperienced 
 
306 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 hand could employ himself. His first task was to thin 
 iown with a file some brass plates which were to be 
 used as parts of the stops of an organ. Powers was 
 expected to do merely the rough work, after which the 
 plates were to pass into the hands of the regular 
 finisher. His employer, knowing that the task was one 
 which would require time, told him he would look in 
 in a few days, and see how he had succeeded. The 
 young man's mechanical talent, on which he had prided 
 himself when a boy in Vermont, now did him good 
 service, and he applied himself to his task with skill 
 and determination. When his employer asked for the 
 plates, he was astonished to find that Powers had not 
 only done the rough work, but had finished them 
 much better than the regular finisher had ever done, 
 and this merely by his greater nicety of eye and his 
 undaunted energy. He had blistered his hands ter- 
 ribly, but had done his work well. His employer was 
 delighted, and, finding him so valuable an assistant, 
 soon gave him the superintendence of all his ma- 
 chinery, and took him to live in his own family. 
 
 Powers displayed great skill in the management of 
 the mechanical department of the business, and this, 
 added to the favor shown him by the "boss," drew 
 upon him the jealousy of the other workmen. In face 
 of the ridicule of the workmen, he invented a ma 
 
HIRAM POWERS. 307 
 
 chh s for cutting out wooden clock wheels, in con- 
 side ration of which he received an old silver bull's- 
 eye watch. 
 
 Soon after this, in a chance visit to the Museum IE. 
 Cincinnati, he saw a plaster cast of Houdon's "Wash- 
 ington." It was the first bust he had ever seen, and 
 he ' Ays it moved him strangely. He had an intense 
 dtj^re to know how it was done, and a vague con- 
 sciousness that he could do work of the same kind if 
 he could find an instructor. The instructor he soon 
 found in a German living in the city, who made 
 plaster casts of busts, and from him he learned the 
 secret of the art. He proved an apt pupil, and sur- 
 prised his teacher by his proficiency. 
 
 The true principles of his art seemed to come to 
 him naturally, and having the genius to comprehend 
 them so readily, he had the courage to hold on to 
 them often in the face of adverse criticism. While 
 conscious of having a perfectly correct eye, however, 
 he did not scorn the humbler method of obtaining 
 ( cactness by mathematical measurement. 
 
 He did not regularly devote himself to his art, how- 
 ever, but remained in the employment of the organ 
 and clock maker for some time longer, giving his 
 leisure hours to constant practice. When he was 
 abo''t twenty-three years old. a Frenchman, owning a 
 
308 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 museum of natural history and wax figures, induced 
 him to become " inventor, wax-figure maker, and gen- 
 eral mechanical contriver " in the museum. Powers 
 remained in his employ for seven years, hoping all the 
 while to earn money enough to devote himself entirely 
 to art, which had now become his great ambition. He 
 had married in this interval, and had a wife and 
 children to support. 
 
 Powers was now thirty years old and had acquired 
 considerable reputation in Cincinnati as an artist. 
 His abilities coming to the notice of Mr. Nicholas 
 Longworth, of that city, that good genius of young 
 men of talent called on him and offered to buy out 
 the museum and establish him in the business. The 
 offer was declined with thanks. Mr. Longworth then 
 proposed to send him to Italy to study his profession, 
 but this, too, being declined, Mr. Longworth urged 
 him to go to Washington and try his fortune with the 
 public men of the country. To this Powers consented, 
 and, aided by his generous friend, he repaired to the 
 national capital in 1835, and spent two years there. 
 During this period he modeled busts of Andrew Jack- 
 son, J. Q. Adams, Calhoun, Chief Justice Marshall, 
 Woodbury, Van Buren, and others. Being unable to 
 secure a model of Webster in Washington, the states- 
 man invited him to go to Marshficld for that purpose. 
 
HIRAM POWERS. 300 
 
 Powers accepted the invitation, and declares that he 
 looks back upon his sojourn there as one of the most 
 delightful portions of his life. 
 
 General Jackson was very kind to him, and won his 
 lasting esteem and gratitude. 
 
 One of his sitters in Washington was Senator 
 Preston, of South Carolina, who conceived such an 
 interest in him that he wrote to his brother, General 
 Preston, of Columbia, South Carolina, a gentleman of 
 great wealth, urging him to come to the artist's assist- 
 ance, and send him to Italy. General Preston at once 
 responded to this appeal, of which Powers was igno- 
 rant, and wrote to the artist to draw on him for a 
 thousand dollars, and go to Italy at once, and to draw 
 on him annually for a similar sum for several years. 
 Powers was profoundly touched by this noble offer, 
 and accepted it as frankly as it had been made. He 
 sent his models to Italy, and took his departure for 
 the Old World in 1837. Speaking of Mr. Preston's 
 generosity, he said, some years ago: "I have en- 
 deavored to requite his kindness by sending him works 
 of mine, equal in money value to his gifts; but I can 
 never extinguish my great obligations. I fear he don't 
 like me since the war for I could not suppress my 
 strong national feelings for any man's friendship 
 but I like and honor hJnz : J would do anything 
 
310 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 in my power to show him my inextinguishable grati- 
 tude." 
 
 He reached Florence in advance of his models, and 
 while waiting for them made two busts, one of a pro- 
 fessor in Harvard College, ~nd the other of an Amen 
 can lady. A severe domestic affliction, however, 
 which came upon him soon after his arrival in Italy, 
 affected him so greatly that he was not able to return 
 to his work for a long time. Then he applied himself 
 to his busts, which were warmly praised by the artists 
 in Florence and by his countrymen traveling abroad. 
 Thorwaldsen visited him in his studio, and pronounced 
 his bust of Webster the best work of its kind in mod- 
 ern times, and praises from other distinguished artists 
 were equally as warm. Orders came in rapidly from 
 English and Italians, and from Americans in Europe, 
 and the sculptor soon had as much business as he 
 could attend to. He gave his leisure time to work on 
 an ideal figure, which, when completed, was purchased 
 by an English gentleman of wealth. This was " The 
 Greek Slave/' the most popular of all his works. 
 Duplicates of it were exhibited in America and at the 
 Crystal Palace in England, and won him praise from 
 all quarters. This single work established his fame as 
 an artist, and brought him orders from all parts of the 
 civ'lized T rld. His statue of " Eve," which had 
 
HIRAM POWERS. 311 
 
 preceded " The Greek Slave " by a year, had been pro- 
 nounced by Thorwaldsen fit to be any man's master- 
 piece, but it had not created such a furore as " The 
 Greek Slave." Subsequently he made an exquisite 
 bust of the Grand Duchess of Tuscany, with which 
 the Grand Duke was so pleased that he called on 
 Powers, and asked him as a favor to himself to apply 
 to him whenever he could do him a service. Powers 
 asked permission to take a cast of the Venus, and this 
 much-coveted boon, which had been denied to other 
 artists for years, was at once granted to him. 
 
 Since then his works have been numerous. Among 
 these are " The Fisher Boy," of which three duplicates 
 in marble have been made; " II Penseroso; " " Proser- 
 pine," a bust; " California; " "America," modeled for 
 the Crystal Palace at Sydenham, England; "Washing- 
 ton " and " Calhoun," portrait statues, the former for 
 the State of Louisiana, and the latter for the State 
 of South Carolina; and "Benjamin Franklin" and 
 "Thomas Jefferson," in the Capitol at Washington. 
 His works are all marked by beauty and vigor of con- 
 ception as well as by exquisite finish. Beautiful as his 
 ideal figures are, he yet excels in his busts and statues 
 of the great men of his native land. His "Jefferson " 
 and " Franklin " are wonderful works, and his " Cal- 
 houn " is said to be almost life-like. This last was 
 
312 
 
 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 wrecked on the coast of Long Island on its voyage to 
 America, and remained in the sea for some time, but 
 being well packed, was found, when raised, to be only 
 slightly damaged by the water. 
 
 Mr. Powers resided in Italy for many years, and his 
 studio was a favorite resort of young artists. 
 
 He died several years ago, revered and honored by 
 the whole world. 
 
JAY GOULD. 
 
JAY GOULD, 
 
 THE OUTCOME OF A CAPITAL OF 50 CENTS. 
 
 "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have 
 greatness thrust upon them." Shakespeare. 
 
 X most of the countries of Europe, and especially 
 in England, great wealth, when uninherited, is, 
 as a general thing, realized through the slow and 
 patient channels of some trade or calling. This, 
 doubtless, is owing to the fact, that the natural re- 
 sources of these countries are mainly developed to 
 their utmost capacity, and that so narrow are their 
 boundaries, individually, as well as their ideas of gov- 
 ernment, the spirit of enterprise can find no resting 
 place for the sole of its foot among the impoverished 
 masses of their dense populations. 
 
 When, however, we come to contrast this undesira- 
 ble state of things with the condition of affairs within 
 
316 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 the boundaries of our own vast commonwealth, we 
 are at once struck with the magnitude of their dis- 
 similarity. 
 
 Here a newly created world, so to speak, possessed 
 of wealth far exceeding that of " Ormus, and of Ind," 
 and teeming with all the resources necessary to our 
 greatness and happiness, lies spread out before us in 
 boundless expanses, presenting to every species of 
 enterprise fields for operation so filled with promise, 
 and of such gigantic magnitude, that those of the Old 
 World are dwarfed into utter insignificance before 
 them. Under such circumstances it is not a matter 
 of surprise that our vast resources are becoming rap- 
 idly developed, that cities and civilizations are now 
 being scattered through regions not long since sacred 
 to the foot of the red man, and that constantly in 
 our midst some adventurous and far-seeing spirit leaps 
 from out the masses, and, at a single bound, as it 
 were, attains to colossal wealth and importance. 
 
 There is no stronger case in point touching this lat- 
 ter relation than that presented by the gentleman 
 whose name appears at the head of this article, and 
 who has for some time past commanded so large a 
 share of the public attention with regard to the bold- 
 ness and magnitude of his operations in some of the 
 leading interests of our economy. 
 
JAY GOULD. 317 
 
 Jay Gould was born in Roxbury, Delaware County, 
 a rude part of Western New York, May 27, 1837 ; so 
 he is not yet 46. Indeed, his coal-black beard and 
 hair, which, though thin, is scarcely touched with gray, 
 indicate a man below middle life. 
 
 His father, John B. Gould, was a poor farmer, and 
 could scarcely earn enough to support his large fam- 
 ily in the simplest style. The boy was the youngest, 
 and, when at the age of 10 or 12 his great thirst for 
 knowledge developed, his elder sisters, young ladies 
 of considerable culture, became his teachers. Young 
 Gould, however, early betrayed symptoms of genius 
 and self-reliance, for he had scarcely got well into his 
 school days till he regarded himself already a man, 
 and invented a mouse trap. This latter has been 
 considered by some as either a bitter sarcasm upon 
 the unwieldy dimensions of the great, square, unsight- 
 ly white frame house in which he was born, or a 
 graphic foreshadowing of his subsequent operations 
 in Wall street. 
 
 His boyhood in Roxbury was about the same as 
 that of other boys roundabout. He worked around 
 the farm, planting and hoeing, going to district school 
 some, doing chores and milking cows nights, and 
 about the most vivid memory of that time is of an 
 old brindle cow that he tried to milk. She kicked 
 
318 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 him in the most skillful manner, and he turned a com- 
 plete somerset in the yard. " It seems funnier now 
 than it did then," he said. 
 
 The growing boy studied nights, read all the books 
 he could get in that sparsely-settled country, and at 
 the age of fourteen appealed to his father to send him 
 to the academy in the adjoining town. His father 
 could not afford it. The boy thought it over deliber- 
 ately, felt that his study of mathematics, now beyond 
 the instruction of Roxbury, must be gratified some- 
 how, and resolved to go to the academy and pay his 
 own expenses. He asked his father's permission. 
 " Of course you can go if you want to," was the nat- 
 ural reply; " you ain't good for much here/' It was 
 the solemn truth. Jay had already discovered 
 that he was not born to be a farmer by a large 
 majority. 
 
 The next morning the ambitious youth hastily rose 
 from the breakfast-table, held out his hand to his sur- 
 prised father, and said " Good-by." There were tears, 
 entreaties, warnings, but he burst away, seized his 
 little bundle of clothes, and started afoot through the 
 wild and sparsely-settled regions over the mountains 
 to Hobart Academy, with 50 cents in his pocket. 
 Thirty-two years later, being charged with treacher- 
 ously selling out his associates, he laid upon a table 
 
JAY GOULD. 319 
 
 stocks and bonds of his own of the value of $35,000,- 
 ooo. 
 
 Arrived at rtobart, and canvassing the town for 
 work, he got a chance to keep books for the village 
 blacksmith, who had started a little store next to the 
 shop. This helped him out. He spent mornings and 
 evenings with the son of Vulcan and paid his way at 
 school. He rested little, played little, talked little, 
 worked hard, like Napoleon at the artillery school at 
 Brienne. He made surprising progress. In six 
 months he had learned what the academy had to 
 teach and left it. He left the village blacksmith too, 
 and entered a hardware store as clerk, devoting his 
 evenings to a systematic study of trigonometry and 
 surveying. He rose at 4 in the morning and gave 
 three hours to book and slate. He borrowed an old 
 compass and a set of surveying tools, and, inducing 
 the boys of the village to become his flag and chain 
 bearers by presenting to them toys of his own manu- 
 facture, he succeeded in learning practical surveying 
 ' without a master." 
 
 At the same time he applied himself to the hard- 
 ware business so energetically that at the age of 15 
 the little prodigy was made full partner and intrusted 
 with the entire charge of the business. He came to 
 New York for the first time in his life, and was able 
 
220 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 to open accounts with Phelps, Dodge & Co., and other 
 heavy houses. But he had not yet found his career. 
 The hardware trade was not congenial, and the same 
 year, 1852, he slipped out, left his little capital behind, 
 put his father in his place, and engaged to take charge 
 of a surveying party at $20 a month, to complete the 
 map of Ulster County. He organized his party, and 
 started with five dollars in his pocket ; walked 40 
 miles the first day, and worked a fortnight, when his 
 employer suddenly " failed " before he had paid them 
 a cent. Gould at once resolved to carry out the sur- 
 vey himself. What now happened to the 15-year old 
 boy is best told in Mr. Gould's own words : 
 
 " I was out of money, that is to say, all I had was 
 a lo-cent piece, and with that last coin I determined 
 not to part. (I did not part with it and never shall ; I 
 keep it now as a memento.) Fall was approaching, 
 and unless our surveys were finished before winter set 
 in they would be postponed until the next spring, sub- 
 jecting us to additional expense, and perhaps causing 
 their abandonment. I determined to go ahead if pos- 
 sible. But how ? I had neither time nor money to 
 go back to Delaware County for supplies. I was 
 among entire strangers and without credit. I could 
 neither advance nor retreat without money, and so 
 
JAY GOULD 321 
 
 deeply did I deplore the ruin of our project that I shed 
 tears. 
 
 " Tired out by my last day's tramp, hungry, and de- 
 jected, I was resting in a rocky nook near the town of 
 Shawaugunk, my tears trickling down on the face of 
 the compass, when I was suddenly hailed by a farmer, 
 who asked me to go home with him and make a noon- 
 mark a north and south line so drawn that the shad- 
 ow of an upright object falling upon it will indicate 
 midday. I was asked to take dinner first, and joy- 
 fully accepted, as I had supped on two small crackers 
 the previous night, and had been hard at work since 
 daylight, and felt exceedingly faint. After a hearty 
 dinner I made the noon-mark, and was about to bid 
 the hospitable farmer good-by, when he asked what I 
 charged for the work. I said I charged nothing he 
 was welcome to it ; but he offered me half a dollar, 
 insisting that it was the price a neighbor had paid for 
 one. I accepted the money and departed rejoicing. 
 If I had discovered a new continent I would not have 
 been more elated, for, with 60 cents in my pocket and 
 the prospect of making other noon-marks along the 
 route, I saw a way to carry my enterprise through. I 
 can never forget that day. From that time forward 
 the fame of my noon-marks preceded me. Applica- 
 
322 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 tions came in from the farmers all around, and out of 
 this new source of supply I paid all the expenses of 
 my surveys and came out at the completion with $6 in 
 my pocket." 
 
 A respectable sum was received from the map. 
 Young Gould now became a professional surveyor 
 and civil engineer. He mapped Albany, Ulster, 
 Greene, and Delaware Counties, in New York, Lake 
 and Geauga Counties in Ohio, and Oakland County 
 in Michigan ; made the surveys for a plank road and 
 a railroad ; wrote and published a history of Dela- 
 ware County ; started a tannery, where he employed 
 250 men; built a town (Gouldsboro) ; and established 
 a bank, and carried it through the panic of 1857, be- 
 fore he was 21. 
 
 He sold an interest in his town for $80,000, and 
 invested the money in depreciated railroad securities 
 after the panic. Soon after this he secured a con- 
 trolling interest in two railroads, and it was not long 
 before he embarked all his fortunes in the Erie, with 
 what success is well known. With herculean energy 
 he has reached out and gathered in the reins of trans- 
 portation dropped by other hands, till now he is the 
 central figure of 30,000 miles of railroad communica- 
 tion, and the most potent financial genius in the Re- 
 public. 
 
JAY GOULD. 323 
 
 His present quarrel with the Mutual Union Tele- 
 graph, undertaken in behalf of his pet, the Western 
 Union, is said to worry Mr. Gould more than any- 
 thing else he has recently done. He is surprised to 
 see the new company develop such fighting qualities, 
 and he has been tempted to do some things of the 
 Jim Fisk order that are not regarded as quite square 
 by his associates, Cyrus Field, Dr. Green, Gen. Eck- 
 ert, and men sensitive to business honor such as the 
 recent breaking open and examining of John G. 
 Moore's private papers during his absence from the 
 city. 
 
 Jay Gould is not " nice," but his quarrels do not 
 rankle. Russel Sage said to me a fortnight ago : 
 " Gould is one of the best-natured of men. After the 
 failure of that persistent conspiracy to ruin him, in 
 which his fingers certainly were pinched some, he was 
 just as pleasant as ever with the parties to it ; he 
 dealt with them as freely as ever, and gave them as 
 many chances as anybody. But while the contest 
 lasts he never lets up. The bears at present are not 
 having a very good time in their dealings with him." 
 
 Mr. Gould lives in an unpretentious but spacious 
 mansion at the corner of Fifth avenue and Forty-sec- 
 ond street in the winter time. His tastes are simple 
 and democratic. His habits are thoroughly domestic. 
 
324 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 He is not likely to die as Tom Scott died three years 
 ago ; for he uses neither liquor nor tobacco, loves his 
 family, retires at 10 and rises at 6. Mr. Gould has a 
 fine library, with a choice selection of books, strong 
 in the department of history, and he is a close student 
 out of business hours. He is not a religious man, like 
 Russel Sage, but goes to church sometimes. 
 
 Mrs. Gould is a daughter of a Mr. Miller, a refired 
 grocer of the city, and is a quiet, refined and interest- 
 ing lady. There are six children, equally divided be- 
 tween the sexes, and the three boys are all in business 
 with their father. The eldest, George J. Gould, a 
 youth of 22, is a member of the firm of W. E. Con- 
 nor & Co., of which Mr. Morsini is also a member, 
 and Jay Gould himself is special partner. Connor, 
 by the way, known to his familiars as " Wash," began 
 life as Mr. Gould's office-boy, and is now a million- 
 aire and more, too, 
 
 The Gould summer-house is at " LyndTiurst," near 
 Irvington, up the Hudson, and comprises about 600 
 acres of beautiful land, and one of the finest conser- 
 vatories and graperies in America. Rare plants and 
 flowers have been sent to him from all parts of the 
 world, until his place is stocked with the choice plants 
 of every zone and meridian. Mr. Gould has made a 
 close study of botany, and can call most of his plants 
 
JAY GOULD. 325 
 
 by name. He has now in his gallery hundreds of val- 
 uable paintings, his own taste running to modern art 
 the best works of the French masters Meissonier, 
 Millet, Delaroche, Bouguereau, Delacroix, etc. 
 
 In his office he is very reserved and laconic. His 
 associates and clerks have learned to read his mean- 
 ing from a word or look. His mail is encumbered 
 every day with scores of begging letters, which never 
 reach him, but are destroyed by his secretary. He 
 agrees with Russel Sage and other wealthy men that 
 promiscuous charity is to be avoided, and he gives only 
 to the best attested cases. During the yellow fever 
 troubles he telegraphed to the Mayor of Memphis, 
 " Draw on me for all the money you want." 
 
 Mr. Gould seldom goes to balls ; doesn't care for 
 general society ; avoids display , never reads novels ; 
 spends most of his spare time in the large room that is 
 walled up with 5,000 volumes of standard literature of 
 a solid sort. 
 
THURLOW WEED 
 
 FIFTY YEARS A JOURNALIST. 
 
 Thurlow Weed, the Nestor of American journalists, 
 was born on November 15, 1797, at Catskill, Greene 
 County, N.'Y., whither his parents had emigrated from 
 Stamford, Conn., in the hopes of bettering their slen- 
 der fortunes. Joel Weed, his father, was a worthy 
 honest, industrious carman, who, despite his best ef- 
 forts, was often in jail for debt, and among the earliest 
 boyish recollections of young Thurlow were his visits 
 to his father when in confinement, or " on the limits." 
 The boy, by the way, was originally named Edward 
 Thurlow, after Edward Lord Thurlow, Chancellor of 
 the Realm, but the Edward was soon dropped. There 
 was little or no schooling for the children of the poor 
 in the early days of the Republic, and young Thurlow 
 at an early age was helping to earn money to support 
 the family. He found occasional employment in run- 
 ning errands and doing odd jobs, and when about 10 
 
THURLOW WEED. 
 
THURLOW WEED. 329 
 
 years of age began to shift for himself. He became 
 first a cabin-boy and then a deck hand on board the 
 sloop Jefferson, and afterwards on the sloop Ranger. 
 He spent an entire summer in this way, earning a few 
 dollars a month, which were cheerfully sent home. 
 After a year's cruising he abandoned the water, owing 
 to attacks of vertigo whenever he attempted to mount 
 the rigging. During his seaman life he first visited 
 New York, and while there he earned his first shilling 
 by carrying the trunk of one of the sloop passengers 
 up Broad street to a hotel. In the winter of 1808 
 Joel Weed moved his family further west, to Cincin- 
 natus, Cortland County, N. Y. Young Thurlow went 
 to work with a will at the new avocations before him, 
 helping in the asheries, the tanneries, the logging, the 
 fencing, the clearing, the plowing, and the other du- 
 ties pertaining to farm life in that section. While 
 here, Weed enjoyed the advantage of a few months' 
 schooling in the rudiments at a little country school- 
 house, and improved every opportunity to satisfy his 
 growing passion for reading. In the winter of 1811 
 he attained the height of his boyish ambition when 
 his proffered services were accepted as an apprentice in 
 the office of a small weekly newspaper called the Lynx, 
 published by Theodore C. Fay, at Onondaga Hollow, 
 Onondaga County, N. Y. At first the tall, strong awk- 
 
330 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 ward boy was assigned to the laborious task of" tread- 
 ing pelts " and pulling at the old Ramage press. But he 
 soon rose from apprentice to journeyman, and trudg- 
 ing on foot from town to to\vn obtained employment 
 in one printing-office after another. Among the 
 various places at which he worked at the case or at 
 the press were Onondaga Hollow, Manlius, Auburn, 
 Geneva, Albany, New York, Herkimer, and Coopers- 
 town. During the war of 1812, young Weed was in 
 the army, having enlisted in a Herkimer County regi- 
 ment under Col. Petrie, in 1813. He was shortly 
 after made Quartermaster-Sergeant, and spent several 
 months in camp life at Sackett's Harbor, N. Y. After 
 the war he was employed in various offices in Franklin 
 Square and Pearl Street, in New York, at one time be- 
 ing a fellow-workman with James Harper, the late 
 head of the great publishing house. Mr. Weed was 
 an excellent, industrious workman, whose dissipations 
 were confined to the theater he was passionately 
 fond of the drama and a stroll upon the Battery, the 
 then fashionable resort. Here he became acquainted 
 by sight with the leading personages of the metro- 
 polis, and soon came to know the men who played a 
 prominent part in political life. He had a natural 
 proclivity toward politics, as he had toward the print- 
 ing office. He was an active worker at local meet- 
 
THURLOW WEED. 331 
 
 ings and at the polls on election days, although de- 
 prived himself of the right of suffrage on account of 
 the property qualification for voters. In April, 1818, 
 Mr. Weed married Miss Catherine M. Ostrander, of 
 Cooperstown, N. Y., a woman of remarkably good 
 sense and prudence, industry, religious principles, 
 and domestic habits, whose thrift did much to build 
 up a competence out of her husband's slender in- 
 come. 
 
 His marriage led Mr. Weed to look for higher and 
 more remunerative employment. He now aspired to 
 be an editor. His first connection with the press as 
 an editor was in Chenango County, where he started 
 the weekly Republican Agriculturist, in December, 
 1818. It was Clintonian in politics, and supported 
 the project of constructing the Erie Canal. In 1821, 
 he purchased an interest in the Manlius Times, which 
 he sold out a year or two later. Going to Rochester 
 he secured the position of assistant editor on the 
 Rochester Telegraph. The entire control of the pa- 
 per was soon left in his hands, and by his tact and ad- 
 dress in political writing and management he rose 
 rapidly in the esteem of the citizens of that town, so 
 that when Rochester felt the need of a bank, Mr. 
 Weed was unanimously chosen to go to Albany to get 
 the necessary charter. His mission was so satisfactory 
 
332 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 that in 1824 Rochester sent him to the State As- 
 sembly. During his single year's service in the Legis- 
 lature he displayed the skill for political manipulation, 
 which characterized his after-life. It is claimed that 
 through his management the legislative caucus, which 
 was expected to choose Electors favorably to Gen. 
 Jackson under party pressure, were supplied with a 
 mixed ticket, enabling them to follow their own in- 
 clinations, and chose Electors whose votes were cast 
 as follows : Adams, 26 ; Crawford, 5 ; Clay, 4 ; Jack- 
 son, i. Returning to Rochester he became editor 
 and half owner of the Telegraph, whose circulation 
 and influence was steadily increasing. The myster- 
 ious disappearance of Capt. William Morgan and the 
 anti-Masonic craze which followed the alleged Ma- 
 sonic murder suddenly became important factors in 
 Mr. Weed's life. He took the anti-Masonic side, and 
 in the hight of the excitement the Telegraph went 
 went down through the withdrawal of all Masonic 
 support. 
 
 The anti-Masonic party soon began not only to 
 nominate, but elect public officers in the west- 
 ern part of the State. Their success then filled them 
 with hopes of political ascendancy in the State and 
 perhaps in the Nation. One of the first needs of 
 the new party was an organ at the State Capital, 
 
THURLOW WEED. 
 
 where it had already had a respectable representa- 
 tion in the Legislature. By general consent Thurlow 
 Weed was chosen to conduct this paper. The neces- 
 sary fund as easily raised, and on March 22, 1830,. 
 the first number of the Albany Evening Journal ap- 
 peared. Before the Spring was over the paper was 
 acknowledged to be the organ of the Anti-Masonic 
 party. At that time Mr. Weed constituted the staff of 
 the paper. He was editor-in-chief, managing editor,, 
 news editor, local reporter, legislative reporter, and' 
 proof reader. This work occupied his days. His 
 evenings were spent in political consultations. 
 
 The panic of 1837, growing out of the financial and 
 commercial policy of Jackson and Van Buren, as was 
 claimed, gave the Whigs the wished-for opportunity 
 of overthrowing the Regency and securing control! 
 of gNew York. In 1838, Seward and Bradish, the 
 Whig candidates, were elected Governor and Lieu- 
 tenant-Governor, and the Whigs had a majority in the 
 State Assembly. As the party gained in power 
 and prestige, Mr. Weed found the field of his labors- 
 vastly enlarged. Formerly he had been organizing. 
 and building up a minority party, now he was the 
 acknowledged leader of a party in control of the State 
 Government and marching steadily on to the control of 
 National affairs. So accustomed had the party grown 
 
334 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 to rely on the guidance of the Evening Journal and its 
 editor that the politicians of the State were in constant 
 consultation with Mr. Weed, who was already called 
 " the Dictator," " the Warwick," "the Old Man," etc. 
 
 It is doubtful if any one man ever had such com- 
 plete control of a party or had his advice so implic- 
 itly followed by its members as Mr. Weed in his rela- 
 tions to the Whig party. 
 
 The great secret of his sway undoubtedly was his 
 disinterestedness. He sought no office for himself 
 and would take none. Among the qualities which 
 peculiarly marked Mr. Weed's career was his pene- 
 tration of character displayed in his admirable selec- 
 tion of the right men for the right places. In 1838 
 the Whig Central Committee desiring to publish a 
 campaign political paper, Mr. Weed went to New 
 York in seach of an editor and returned with Horace 
 Greeley, who edited '(hzjejfersonian in that campaign 
 and the Log Cabin in the Presidential contest of 1840. 
 
 Mr. Weed was a thorough journalist and a " practical 
 politician," of unerring memory, proverbial tact, mi- 
 raculous intuitions, and great mastery over men. He 
 preferred to be the power behind the throne rather than 
 the semblance of power on the throne. He was re- 
 peatedly urged to run for offices, ranging from Vice- 
 President down to Mayor of Albany, but invariably 
 
THURLOW WEED. 335 
 
 declined. Three times he was offered the English 
 Mission by three different Presidents whom he had 
 helped elect. Mr. Weed took a prominent part in the 
 Harrisburg Convention and urged the selection of 
 Gen. Harrison, in opposition to the desires of Henry 
 Clay's friends. The popular whirlwind of " hard cider 
 and log cabin" times which swept the country for 
 "Tippecanoe and Tyler too' proved the wisdom of 
 .the choice. Mr. Weed's suggestion in regard to Cab- 
 inet officers and other prominent appointments were 
 listened to with favor by Gen. Harrison, who made 
 Francis Granger, of New York, his Postmaster-Gen- 
 eral, and would doubtless have dispensed the Federal 
 patronage in New York, largely according to Mr. 
 Weed's desires. But the Whig triumph was short- 
 lived, as President Harrison died a few weeks after 
 his inauguration. 
 
 In 1843, Mr. Weed made his first trip to Europe, re- 
 maining abroad some months and describing his trav- 
 els in letters to the Journal, which were widely copied. 
 The year 1851, brought to Mr. Weed a sad domestic 
 affliction in the death of his only son. He went to 
 Europe again early in the Winter, spending several 
 months abroad in general travel. 
 
 The first Republican National Convention at Phila- 
 delphia, in 1856, when Senator Seward was suggested 
 
336 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 on all sides as the proper candidate, Mr. Weed, un- 
 willing to risk a defeat of his favorite at such a time, 
 induced the New York delegation to go for Gen. Fre- 
 mont, and act which led to his nomination. The suc- 
 cess of the Republicans in New York was instantan- 
 eous. Gen. Fremont had 80,000 majority in the State. 
 John A. King was elected Governor, and the party 
 controlled the Legislature. Weed's first choice for 
 President was his best and life-long friend, William 
 H Seward. To put him in at the head of the Chicago 
 ticket he devoted all his extraordinary abilities. The 
 Republicans of New York were a unitYor their " favorite 
 son," and so well were all the plans laid that Mr. 
 Weed did not consider defeat a possibility. Xet 
 speaking of the actual result, a short time since, he 
 said it seemed to him like a special stroke of Provi- 
 dence for the good of the United States. When the 
 balloting commenced on the third day of the conven- 
 tion Seward 's friends were disappointed to find Penn- 
 sylvania, where Seward was strong, and where Camer- 
 on had led Seward's friends to expect his support, 
 going against him. The subsequent change of Penn- 
 sylvania from Cameron to Lincoln carried the nomi- 
 nation of the " Rail-Splitter" on the third ballot. 
 Mr. Weed, it is needless to say, was greatly disap- 
 pointed at the defeat of Seward. Immediately after 
 
THURLOW WEED. 337 
 
 the nomination, while annoyed and dejected, and 
 about to leave Chicago, David Davis and Leonard 
 Swett, who had worked zealously for Lincoln, came 
 to Mr. Weed's room to converse with him about the 
 approaching canvass. He frankly informed them 
 that he was so greatly disappointed at the action of 
 the convention that he was unable to talk or think on 
 the subject, and was going to Iowa for a few days. 
 At their request he stopped at Springfield on his way 
 home and had an interview with Lincoln. Of this 
 meeting Mr. Weed afterward wrote : " I had met Lin- 
 coln in the fall of 1848, when he took the stump in 
 New England. He displayed throughout the conver- 
 sation so much good sense, intuitive knowledge of 
 human nature, and such familiarity with the virtues 
 and infirmities of politicians, that I became impressed 
 very favorably with his fitness for the duties which he 
 was not unlikely to be called upon to discharge. The 
 conversation lasted five hours, and when the train ar- 
 rived on which we were to depart I was all the better 
 prepared to go to work with a will in favor of Mr. 
 Lincoln's election, as the interview had inspired me 
 with confidence in his capacity and integrity." Di- 
 rectly after the convention the Journal did not place 
 the Chicago ticket at the head of its editorial columns. 
 When the result of the Presidential contest was 
 
338 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 kncrvvn Mr. Weed was pressed to visit Mr. Lincoln 
 for the purpose of advising him on the formation of 
 the Cabinet. At this meeting he first learned what 
 inducement had swayed the Pennsylvania delegation 
 to vote against Seward. There were a number of 
 leading Republicans present, and, after discussion, all 
 the Cabinet positions were agreed on except that of 
 Secretary of the Treasury. Nothing being said about 
 the place, Mr. Weed asked who was to have that de- 
 partment, and was surprised to hear that it was re- 
 served for Simon Cameron. Some objections to this 
 designation being made, the slate was revised, and 
 Cameron was put down for the War Department. 
 Between the President and Mr. Weed a strong attach- 
 ment grew up, and at various critical junctures in the 
 struggle the President entrusted the journalist with 
 missions of the most delicate and important nature. 
 Just before the outbreak of the War one of the duties 
 intrusted to him was to secure the influence of the 
 New York Herald on the side of the administration. 
 The sympathies of that paper were with the South ; 
 and its opposition to Lincoln encouraged the Rebel- 
 lion and strengthened the Rebel cause. With its large 
 circulation in Europe the Herald was creating a dan- 
 gerous public sentiment abroad, and the necessity of 
 
THURLOW WEED. 339 
 
 securing a change of policy, was considered at a Cab- 
 inet meeting, at which it was decided that Mr. Weed 
 should be asked to undertake the task. Although he 
 and Mr. Bennett had not spoken to one another for 
 thirty years, Mr. Weed at the urgent request of Presi- 
 dent Lincoln sent word that he wished to see Mr. 
 Bennett, and was invited to visit him at Washington 
 Heights. 
 
 The two editors sat long at table, and, although 
 nothing was said directly about the policy of the Her- 
 ald, Mr. Weed put the situation so forcibly, appealing 
 to Mr. Bennett's judgment and to his sense of duty, 
 as an influential journalist, to the Government and 
 the Union, that the Herald came out the next day as 
 a strong Union paper. Shortly after this episode Mr. 
 Weed's mission to England and France was under- 
 taken. It was deemed important by Mr. Lincoln that 
 some gentleman of experience and intelligence, pos- 
 sessing a thorough knowledge of all the circumstances 
 which preceded and occasioned the Rebellion, should 
 be sent abroad to disabuse the public mind of false 
 impressions, especially in England and France, where 
 numerous agents of secession had been at work in 
 quarters too ready to accept versions of the existing 
 dispute unfavorable to the North. Mr. Weed was in- 
 
340 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 diiced to accept this task, and set sail with Archbishop 
 Hughes as a fellow Commissioner in the Africa, on 
 Nov. 6, 1 86 1. 
 
 The news of the taking of Mason and Slidell was 
 brought to Europe by the steamer which followed the 
 Africa on which Mr. Weed and the Archbishop sailed. 
 The feeling in England and France, as well as in this 
 country, was such that the danger of war was most 
 imminent. Antecedents and traditions led us to hope 
 for sympathy in France, and to apprehend hostility in 
 England. But with the exception of the Prince Na- 
 poleon, who, as Mr. Weed relates, was friendly to us, 
 the French were opposed, at this time, to the Union. 
 The Trent affair occurring as it did at a most critical 
 moment, united " all England " for war. It was felt 
 that unless the Confederate Commissioners, Mason 
 and Slidell, were released, that war was inevitable. 
 While matters stood in this uncertain shape Mr. Weed 
 met Mr. McCullogh Torrens in London the next 
 morning after his arrival, early in December, 1861. 
 The introduction was at the hands of Mr. Peabody, 
 the eminent philanthropist, who was an old friend of 
 Mr. Weed's. Mr. Torrens said that the arrival of 
 Mr. Weed was most opportune. He must see Earl 
 Russell immediately. Mr. Weed replied that Mr. 
 Adams, then our Minister, would present him to the 
 
THURLOW WEED. 341 
 
 Earl as soon as practicable. 'That will not do," said 
 Mr. Torrens. " Time presses, you must see the Earl 
 to-morrow," adding that he would arrange an audie nc e 
 
 
 
 and let Mr. Weed know the time and place that even- 
 ing. Mr. Weed was surprised at the warm interest 
 manifested by an Englishman and a stranger, and 
 doubtful as to the propriety of anticipating the kind 
 intentions of Mr. Adams, but that gentleman relieved 
 his doubt and advised him by all means to avail him- 
 self of this timely offer. Mr. Weed dined that day 
 with Sir J. Emerson Tennent, meeting a large and 
 wh'at proved to be a war party of gentlemen, among 
 them the Colonel of a regiment which was to leave 
 London the next morning to embark at Liverpool for 
 Canada. The Colonel was toasted, and in response 
 made a brief but exciting war speech, dwelling with 
 much effect upon the duty of Englishmen to resent 
 the insult to their flag. Mr. Weed was seated at the 
 table next to Lord Paget, of the Admiralty, who in- 
 formed him that their preparations for war were active 
 and formidable, and that for the first time since 1815 
 they were working " double-handed " night and day 
 in the dock-yards. In passing by the famous London 
 Tower Mr. Weed had himself heard that day the 
 clanking of arms that were in process of shipment for 
 instant service. Returning to his hotel after dinner 
 
3-i2 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 he found Mr. Torrens, who directed him to leave the 
 city the next morning at n o'clock, and drive to Pem- 
 broke Lodge, Earl Russell's country seat. Mr. Weed 
 found the Minister the next day alone, and was cour- 
 teously received. Conversation was at first embar- 
 rassed by an evident determination on Earl Russeirs 
 part to ignore all other questions until the honor of 
 England should be satisfied by the surrender of Mason 
 and Slidell. Gradually, however, the restraint passed 
 away, and his Lordship explained the circumstances 
 which led to the Queen's proclamation giving bellig- 
 erent rights to the Rebel States. He had come to the 
 conclusion that the North was the real aggressor. 
 After an hour and a half's conversation, during which 
 Mr. Weed endeavored to remove that impression, 
 lunch was announced, and the conversation became 
 general. In the drawing-room, after the Earl had 
 conversed aside with Lady Russell for a few minutes, 
 Mr. Weed was about to take leave, when Lady Rus- 
 sell interrupted, saying : " You must not go without 
 seeing the Lodge grounds," in walking through which 
 her Ladyship pointed out various objects with which 
 history had made her visitor familiar. In the course 
 of the walk she remarked that ladies, of course, knew 
 nothing of State secrets, but that they had ears, and 
 sometimes heard things not perhaps intended for 
 
THURLOW WEED. 343 
 
 them, adding that it would probably relieve Mr- 
 Weed's anxiety to know that in our difficulties the 
 sympathies of the Queen were with the United States; 
 that her Majesty remembered the attentions extended 
 to her son, the Prince of Wales, and would do every- 
 thing in her power to prevent a rupture with America. 
 With this gleam of hope Mr. Weed returned to his 
 hotel well satisfied with his visit to the Minister. 
 
 While waiting with the most intense solicitude for 
 the decision of our Government upon the demand for 
 the surrender of the Confederate Commissioners, Mr. 
 Weed received from his friend, the Hon. Arthur Kin- 
 naird, M. P., in the strictest confidence positive evi- 
 dence that the Queen had at the right moment caused 
 the dispatch demanding the surrender of Mason and 
 Slidell to be so modified as to render a compliance 
 with it less difficult to Mr. Lincoln. Several days 
 after receiving this information, confirming the assur- 
 ance of Lady Russell, Mr. Weed received additional 
 evidence from another high source, the honored and 
 lamented Sir Henry Holland, physician to the Queen, 
 who was a daily visitor at Mr. Weed's lodgings, and 
 often afterward, on his visits to New York, was a wel- 
 come guest at Mr. Weed's residence. Sir Henry had 
 been informed by the Queen what occurred between 
 her Majesty, Lord Palmerston, and Prince Albert, 
 
34:4: SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 when the dispatch demanding the surrender was 
 brought to Windsor for approval. Whatever passes 
 between the Queen and her Ministers, while a question 
 is under consideration, is in its nature confidential, 
 and Mr. Weed never felt that he was at liberty to 
 make a full revelation of the facts within his knowl- 
 edge, except to a few friends and members of his fam- 
 ily. It is enough, perhaps, to know that on three 
 occasions during the first year of the Rebellion her 
 Majesty contributed essentially to the preservation of 
 peace between this country and England, and that on 
 two occasions she discountenanced suggestions from 
 the French Government which meant war. When the 
 consultation at Windsor Castle above referred to took 
 place the Prince Consort, at the Queen's suggestion, 
 made certain interlineations in the dispatch to Mr. 
 Seward, which was, so Sir Henry informed Mr. Weed, 
 "the last time that the Prince used his pen." The 
 conflict between the Rebels and the Government at 
 Washington was formidable enough, as we all realize 
 now, without the aggravations of a simultaneous con- 
 flict with England and France. The French Emperor 
 was unquestionably in favor of the Southern States, 
 and desired to aid them even at the expense of a war 
 with our Government. As soon as the tempest in 
 England began to subside, Mr. Weed hastened to 
 
THURLOW WEED. 345 
 
 Paris, with Gen. Winfield Scott as a fellow-passenger 
 On the way the thought occurred to him that a bold, 
 frank letter on the American question, signed by the 
 General, would have great weight. As soon as they 
 reached Paris the letter was prepared and published 
 at once in all the leading French and English news- 
 papers. 
 
 From Prince Napoleon Mr. Weed received atten- 
 tion. The Prince, differing widely and boldly from 
 the Emperor, was the warm friend of our Government, 
 and sought to serve us. Mr. Weed was instant in sea- 
 son and out of season in explaining and defending the 
 cause of his country, and it was largely due to his 
 skillful and indefatigable efforts that the attempt to 
 unite France and England against the cause of the 
 Union failed. He induced the Emperor to alter a 
 paragraph in his speech to the French National Legis- 
 lature in January, 1862, so that instead of expressing 
 a bitter opposition to the Union, as he had intended, 
 he spoke of it in a friendly tone. Prince Napoleon 
 was out of favor with " the nephew of his uncle " be- 
 cause of his pronounced sympathy for the North ; 
 accordingly Mr. Weed worked upon the Emperor 
 through Prince de Morny, his brother. 
 
 The Prince de Morny based his opposition to the 
 Union cause largely, if not entirely, on the fact that 
 
346 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 Charleston Harbor was obstructed. He denounced 
 the obstruction as an outrage without precedent, which 
 wrought great injury to the commercial interests of 
 France, since it interrupted the exports of cotton to 
 that country. Mr. Weed, when the Prince had fin- 
 ished his protest, proceeded to turn the tables on him 
 by quoting from the treaty of Utrecht, which provided 
 that the fortification of the city of Dunkirk should be 
 razed, the harbor filled up, and the sluices which 
 served to cleanse it leveled, and this, too, at the 
 French King's expense ! In the account which he 
 subsequently gave of his coup d'e'tat, Mr. Weed wrote 
 of the effect of his reference to the treaty of Dunkirk 
 as follows : " When the Count had read the article 
 over twice very attentively I observed that he would 
 find by referring to the history of that day that Hol- 
 land, an ally of England in the war which ended with 
 this treaty, complained two years afterward that its 
 terms had not been complied with, inasmuch as the 
 fortification and harbor had been Uut partially de- 
 stroyed, while the article referred to called for their 
 entire demolition. Yet Dunkirk at this day, instead 
 of being (what it would have been but for the treaty 
 of Utrecht) a large and prosperous commercial city, 
 is wholly unused as a harbor, and utterly insignificant 
 as a town. De Morny, after a pause, remarked that 
 
THURLOW WEED. 347 
 
 j 
 
 he was to accompany the Minister of Foreign Affairs 
 (M. Thouvenel) to the Tuileries on the following 
 evening, when the Emperor's speech would be read to 
 them. . . . When the Emperor's speech was 
 printed the passage relating to America was an amica- 
 ble instead of a hostile one." The value of the ser- 
 vices to the Union cause which Mr. Weed rendered 
 in this connection can not be too highly estimated. 
 
 On his return from Europe in 1862 the gratitude 
 of New York for what he had done for his country 
 took the shape of a formal presentation to him of the 
 freedom of the city, and several of his more intimate 
 friends united in presenting him with a costly memo- 
 rial in silver, which is one of the most precious heir- 
 looms in the family. 
 
 In January, 1863, Mr. Weed dissolved his connec- 
 tion with the Albany Journal, both as editor and pro- 
 prietor. In his valedictory, which appears in the is- 
 sue for January 28, he frankly stated the reason which 
 induced him to take the step. " We have fallen in 
 evil times," he said. " Our country is in immediate 
 and imminent danger. I differ widely with my party 
 about the best means of crushing the Rebellion. The 
 difference is radical and irreconcilable. I can neither 
 impress others with my views nor surrender my own 
 solemn convictions. The alternative of living in 
 
348 SELF-MADE MEN. 
 
 strife with those whom I have esteemed or withdraw- 
 ing is presented. I have not hesitated in choosing the 
 path of peace as the path of duty. If those who dif- 
 fer from me are right, and the country is safely carried 
 through its present struggle, all will be well and no- 
 body hurt. . . . But for an infirm leg and a 
 broken arm, I would go into the army, for the country 
 is entitled to the service of all its citizens ; and it is 
 more a privilege than a duty to defend a Government 
 under whose beneficent sway and benign rule we have 
 enjoyed protection, prosperity and happiness, and in 
 the destruction of which the best hopes of the highest 
 civilization perish." 
 
 Since the close of the war Mr. Weed has lived in 
 retirement in New York, but has maintained a lively 
 interest in all public questions, and has frequently fa- 
 vored the metropolitan press with his views on the 
 topics of the day, and with reminiscenses. In 1872 
 he returned to active politics for a brief time, and 
 showed that his name had not lost its old-time cun- 
 ning by springing the name of Gen. John A. Dix on 
 the Republican State Convention and securing his 
 nomination for Governor by a skillfully planned stam- 
 pede. The wisdom of his selection was demonstrated 
 by the triumphant election of the whole Republican 
 ticket. On March 22, 1880, he once more assumed 
 
THURLOW WEED. 
 
 349 
 
 the editorship of the Journal ion: one day on the 
 occasion of the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary 
 of its foundation. He leaves three daughters, Mrs. 
 William Barnes, of Albany, N. Y.; Mrs. James Alden, 
 of Morrisania, N. Y.; and Miss Harriet Weed, who 
 has been his constant companion since the death of 
 his wife, about thirty years ago. He leaves an estate 
 estimated at over one million of dollars. 
 
ULES FOR 
 
 EHAVIOR. 
 
 
RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 ETIQUETTE. 
 
 ^TIQUETTE is, in point of fact, nothing more 
 nor less than the law, written and unwritten, 
 which regulates the society of civilized people, 
 distinguishing them from the communities of barbar- 
 ous tribes, whose lives are hard and their manners 
 still harder. It is to a well disciplined and refined 
 mind the fundamental principle of action in all inter- 
 course with society, and they are interested in main- 
 taining it in its integrity, and bound to heed and obey 
 its simplest as well as more formal precepts. 
 
 Etiquette, like every other human institution, is of 
 course liable to abuse; it may be transformed from a 
 convenient and wholesome means of producing uni- 
 versal comfort into an inconvenient and burdensome 
 restraint upon freedom and ease. 
 
354 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 Etiquette, to be perfect, must be like a perfectly 
 fitting garment, which, beautifying and adorning the 
 person, mast yet never cramp or restrain perfect free- 
 dom of movement. 
 
 Most people have heard of the gentleman (?) who 
 was perfect in his knowledge of the laws of etiquette, 
 and who, seeing a man drowning, took off his coat and 
 was about to plunge into the water to rescue him, 
 when he suddenly remembered that he had never been 
 introduced to the struggling victim, and resuming his 
 coat, tranquilly proceeded upon his way. Too rigid 
 an observance of the laws of etiquette makes them an 
 absurdity and a nuisance. 
 
 Good breeding is, as Lord Chesterfield well says, 
 " the result of much good sense, some good nature, 
 and a little self-denial for the sake of others, and with 
 a view to obtain the same indulgence from them." 
 
 Lord Bacon, in his admirable essay on Ceremonies, 
 says: " Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach others 
 not to use them again, and so diminisheth respect to 
 himself; especially they be not to be omitted to 
 strangers and formal natures; but the dwelling upon 
 them, and exalting them above the moon is not only 
 tedious, but doth diminish the faith and credit of him 
 that speaks. 
 
 To quote again from Lord Chesterfield, " Good 
 
ETIQUETTE. 355 
 
 sense and good nature suggest civility in general; bui 
 in good breeding there are a thousand little delicacies 
 which are established only by custom." 
 
 It is precisely these " little delicacies " which con- 
 stitute the difference between politeness and etiquette, 
 politeness is that inborn regard for others which may 
 C*welL in the heart of the most ignorant boor, but 
 etiquette is a code of outward laws which must be 
 learned by the resident in good society, either from 
 observation or the instruction of others. 
 
 It is a poor argument used against etiquette that it 
 is not truthful, and that uncouth manners are more 
 frank and sincere than polished and refined ones. Is 
 truth then a hedgehog, always bristling and offensive. 
 Cannot truth be spoken in courteous accents from a 
 kind, gentle impulse, as well as blurted out rudely and 
 giving pain and mortification ? It is true that rough- 
 ness and sincerity often abide together, but would it 
 destroy the honesty to polish away the roughness ? 
 
 True politeness must come from the heart, from an 
 unselfish desire to please others and contribute to 
 their happiness; when upon this natural impulse is 
 placed the polish of a complete and thorough knowl- 
 edge of the laws of etiquette, the manners must be 
 perfect and graceful. 
 
 An English author says: " Etiquette may be defined 
 
356 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 as the minor morality of life. No observances, how- 
 ever minute, that tend to spare the feelings of others, 
 can be classed under the head of trivialities; and 
 politeness, which is but another name for general 
 amiability, will oil the creaking wheels of life more 
 effectually than any of those unguents supplied by 
 mere wealth or station." 
 
 " To be truly polite, one must be at once good, just 
 and generous," has been well said by a modern 
 French writer. 
 
 " True politeness is the outward visible sign of those 
 inward spiritual graces called modesty, unselfishness, 
 generosity. The manners of a gentleman are the 
 index of his soul. His speech is innocent, because 
 his life is pure; his thoughts are direct, because his 
 actions are upright; his bearing is gentle, because his 
 blood, and his impulses, and his training are gentle 
 also. A true gentleman is entirely free from every 
 kind of pretence. He avoids homage instead of ex 
 acting it. Mere ceremonies have no attraction for 
 him. He seeks not only to say civil things, but to do 
 them. His hospitality, though hearty and sincere, 
 will be strictly regulated by his means. His friends 
 will be chosen for their good qualities and good man- 
 ners; his servants for their thoughtfulness and honesty; 
 his occupations for their usefulness, or their graceful- 
 
INTRODUCTIONS. 357 
 
 ness, or their elevating tendencies, whether moral, or 
 mental, or political. And so we come round again to 
 our first maxims, /. e., that ' good manners are the 
 kindly fruit of a refined nature.' " 
 
 The most perfect law of politeness, the safest and 
 surest guide in all that pertains to the true definition 
 of a gentleman or lady is, after all, the Christian rule, 
 " Do unto others as you would others should do unto 
 you." 
 
 No one with this for a guide can ever fail in true, 
 genuine politeness, and that politeness will soon lead 
 him to learn and remember all the prevailing rules of 
 established etiquette. 
 
 INTRODUCTIONS. 
 
 MEVER introduce people to each other unless 
 you are sure the acquaintance so commenced 
 will be mutually agreeable. 
 
 When introducing two gentlemen, look first to the 
 elder, or, if there is any difference in social standing, 
 to the superior, and, with a slight bow, say to him: 
 " Allow me to introduce my friend, Mr. Jones, to 
 you; " then turning to your friend, repeat his name, 
 and follow it by that of the gentleman to whom he is 
 introduced, thus: " Mr. Smith, allow me to introduce 
 
358 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 my friend, Mr. Jones, to you Mr. Jones, Mr. Smith." 
 In introducing a gentleman to a lady, bow slightly to 
 
 the latter, saying, " Miss , allow me to introduce 
 
 Mr. ; Mr. (bowing to him), Miss ." 
 
 When several persons are introduced to one, it is 
 sufficient to name the single individual once, repeat- 
 ing all the names of the others thus: " Mr. Johnson, 
 allow me to introduce Mr. and Mrs. James, Miss 
 Smithson, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Johnson," bowing slightly 
 to each when named. 
 
 Shaking hands after an introduction has taken 
 place is merely optional, not necessary; and is for- 
 bidden to an unmarried lady to whom a gentleman is 
 introduced. A bow is all that etiquette requires. In 
 introducing young persons to elder ones of good social 
 standing, it is often a kindly act of encouragement 
 for the latter to shake hands, with a few cordial 
 words. 
 
 Should you, when walking with a friend, meet a lady 
 who desires to speak to you, your friend must stop 
 with you, yet an introduction under such circumstances 
 does not exact any future recognition. 
 
 If friends meet at public places of amusement and 
 are accompanied by strangers, introductions are not 
 required by etiquette, and if made do not oblige any 
 future acquaintance. 
 
LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. 359 
 
 If at a dinner, a ball, or upon any occasion you are 
 introduced, at a friend's house, to one with whom you 
 are not on good terms, though it be your bitterest 
 enemy, etiquette requires you to salute him or her 
 courteously, and make no sign of resentment whilst 
 under your friend's roof. 
 
 To introduce to a friend a person who is in any 
 way objectionable, is an insult which fully justifies a 
 withdrawal of friendship. 
 
 A gentleman should always raise his hat, if intro- 
 duced in the street, to either lady or gentleman. 
 
 LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ~lfl TETTERS of introduction should never be given, 
 except to persons well known to the person 
 introducing them, and addressed to those 
 only who have a long-standing friendship for the 
 writer. 
 
 Even amongst friends of long standing they should 
 be given very cautiously and sparingly, as it is a great 
 responsibility to send to your friend a visitor who may 
 prove disagreeable, and you have no right whatever to 
 call upon comparative strangers to extend hospitality 
 or courtesy to your friends. 
 
360 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 Letters of introduction should always be as short 
 and concise as possible. If you wish to send any in- 
 formation to your friends about their visitor, send it 
 in a separate letter by mail. 
 
 The utmost brevity is of importance in the letter of 
 introduction, as it is usually read in the presence of 
 the party introduced, and the pause must necessarily 
 be awkward. 
 
 Letters of introduction must be left unsealed inva- 
 riably; they should be folded and addressed like any 
 other letter, but it is a gross breach of etiquette to 
 prevent the bearer from reading what you may have 
 said of him to your friend. 
 
 A letter of introduction should not be delivered in 
 person. It should be sent, with the card of the per- 
 son introduced, to the person to whom it is addressed, 
 by a servant. The person receiving it should then 
 call at once or send a written invitation to his 
 house, and the person introduced may then call in 
 person. 
 
 Letters of introduction soliciting favors should be 
 but seldom given, and never unless the claims upon 
 both parties interested are very strong. 
 
 Letters of introduction to and from business men, 
 for business purposes, may be delivered by the bearers 
 in person, and etiquette does not require the receiver 
 
SALUTES AND SALUTATIONS. 361 
 
 to entertain the person introduced as the private friend 
 of the writer. 
 
 Letters of introduction are very useful to travelers, 
 or those about to change their place of residence; 
 care, however, should be especially taken in the latter 
 case to present persons to each other only, who will 
 prove mutually agreeable, as it is surely no friendly 
 act to force upon your friends a life-long acquaintance, 
 perhaps with uncongenial persons. 
 
 In traveling abroad it is impossible to have too 
 many letters of introduction. They take up but little 
 room in a trunk, but their value when you find your- 
 self " a stranger in a strange land," cannot be over- 
 estimated. 
 
 SALUTES AND SALUTATIONS. 
 
 "EN in this country acknowledge an introduc- 
 tion by extending the right hand in greeting 
 the whole hand for it is positively in- 
 sulting to offer two fingers, as some under-bred snobs 
 will sometimes do, and it is almost as bad to extend 
 the left hand, unless two persons are introduced at the 
 same time, or the right hand is useless or occupied; 
 In any such case apologize for the hand extended. 
 In offering the hand to a friend in the house, always 
 
362 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 remove the glove, and grasp the hand given in return 
 firmly for a moment. In the street, however, the glove 
 may be retain ed, if it would cause an awkward pause 
 to remove it; but always in such a case apologize for 
 the covered hand. 
 
 In shaking hands, do not try to wring them off the 
 wrists, nor press them as in a vise, nor pull them as 
 though they were bell-handles, nor fling the two 
 together with violence, so as to cause a report. Let 
 the palms grasp each other firmly, but without any 
 display of energy, and shake the hand moderately for 
 a moment, then release it. 
 
 If a gentleman meet a gentleman, he may salute 
 him by touching his hat without removing it, but if a 
 lady be with either gentleman, both hats must be lifted 
 in salutation. 
 
 A gentleman may bow to a lady seated at a window, 
 if he is passing on the street, but he must not bow 
 from a window to a lady on the street. 
 
 A gentleman may never offer to shake hands with a 
 lady, but he must accept such an offer on her part, 
 taking her hand lightly but firmly in his ungloved 
 right one, and delicately shaking it for a moment. 
 
 In entering a church, a gentleman must remove his 
 hat as soon as his foot crosses the threshold of the 
 sacred edifice. 
 
SALUTES AND SALUTATIONS. 363 
 
 A gentleman may always bow to a lady he may mee.' 
 on a stairway, even if not acquainted. If at the foot 
 of the stairs, he must bow, pass her and ascend before 
 her. If at the head of the stairs, he must bow, and 
 wait for her to precede him in the descent. 
 
 In entering a room, a gentleman must take his hat, 
 cane and gloves in his left hand, leaving his right hand 
 free for salutation. 
 
 If a gentleman, walking with a friend, meets a lady 
 with whom his friend is acquainted, he must also bow, 
 although the lady may be a stranger to him. 
 
 A gentleman must always return a bow made to him 
 
 
 
 in the street, even if he fails to recognize the person 
 who makes it. It may be a person to whom he has 
 been introduced, but whose face he has forgotten, and 
 if it is an error on the part of the other, a courteous 
 return of the salute will greatly diminish the embar- 
 rassment of the mistaken party. 
 
 In meeting a party of friends, with some of whom 
 you are intimately acquainted, and with some only 
 slightly, endeavor to make your salutations as equal as 
 possible. 
 
 In meeting at a friend's house, where you are visit- 
 ing, a circle who are all entire strangers to you, re- 
 member that as mutual friends of the host and hostess 
 you are bound, whilst under the same roof, to consider 
 
364 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 yourselves as acquaintances. No spirit of exclusive 
 ness is an apology for a neglect of this, and no shy- 
 ness can excuse a withdrawing into a corner, 01 
 clinging to one friend alone in such a circle. 
 
 CALLS. 
 
 T ENTLEMEN in society may make morning 
 M inL ca H s ll P n all the following occasions : 
 
 ^ n _jjr' 
 
 In answer to a letter of introduction sent to 
 him, or to return the call if the letter is personally 
 presented. 
 
 In return for any hospitality offered to him when 
 visiting another city, if the entertainer visit his own 
 place of abode. 
 
 On any occasion when a grief or a joy calls for ex- 
 pressions of condolence or congratulation in the circle 
 of his friends. 
 
 To greet the safe return of any friend who has been 
 abroad, or away from home for any length of time. 
 
 Following any occasion when a lady has accepted 
 his services as an escort, a gentleman must call to in- 
 quire after the health of his fair charge, and must not 
 delay longer than the day after that upon which he 
 has escorted the lady. 
 
CALLS. 365 
 
 After a wedding, at the time appointed for the re- 
 ception of friends. 
 
 When visiting in another city, upon any friends 
 there, or upon those to whom letters of introduction 
 have been given. 
 
 In asking or granting a favor, a call is demanded by 
 etiquette. 
 
 Morning calls must never be earlier than noon, 
 evening ones never later than nine o'clock. 
 
 A gentleman may never call with a friend upon a 
 lady, unless the friend is previously acquainted, or he 
 has obtained permission of the lady to introduce 
 him. 
 
 In making a formal call, a gentleman must retain 
 his hat in his hand. An umbrella or cane may be left 
 in the hall, never the hat or gloves. If the call is 
 made in the evening, the hat and gloves must be held 
 until the host or hostess gives an invitation to lay 
 them aside and spend the evening. Strict etiquette 
 requires that such an invitation shall not be given, or 
 if given, not accepted on the occasion of a first call. 
 
 In making an informal call in the evening, a gentle- 
 man may leave hat, gloves, cane and overcoat in the 
 hall. 
 
 No gentleman will prolong a call if he finds his 
 host or hostess dressed to go out. A brief visit with a 
 
366 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 promise to repeat it will place his entertainers at 
 ease. 
 
 A card used in calling must never have anything 
 upon it, but the name and address of the caller. 
 Nothing can show a greater ignorance of the customs 
 of society than to use a business card for a friendly 
 call. A physician may put the prefix Dr. or the pro- 
 fessional M. D., upon his card, and an Army or Navy 
 officer his rank and branch of service. 
 
 It is in bad taste for a caller to preface his or her 
 departure by consulting a watch, remarking, " Now I 
 must go," or insinuating that the hostess is weary of 
 the visitor. Rise when ready to go, and express your 
 pleasure at finding your friends at home, followed by 
 a cordially expressed desire for a speedy meeting 
 again. 
 
 Pelham said he always withdrew when he said some- 
 thing that produced a sensation, because he knew he 
 must leave such an impression as would make people 
 wish to see him again. 
 
 When other callers arrive, it is in bad taste to rise 
 at once as if driven away. Let the first caller watch 
 for a favorable opportunity to retire gracefully. 
 
 If a gentleman calling sees a lady unescorted rise 
 to go, he may with perfect propriety offer to escort 
 her to her carriage, even if a stranger, but he must 
 
CALLS. 367 
 
 return again to make his own farewell bow to the 
 hostess. 
 
 If strangers are in the room when a caller rises tc 
 leave, courtesy requires only a slight bow in passing. 
 
 When calling, etiquette requires that a card be sent 
 up. It will show that you have called, and if friends 
 are at home, will prevent any confusion from mis 
 pronunciation of your name by the servant. 
 
 When the lady of the house is not at home, a card 
 must be left, and if there are two or more ladies, the 
 turning down of one corner of the card signifies that 
 the call was intended for all the family. 
 
 If cards to be left preparatory to leaving town, the 
 initials p. p. c. {pour prendre conge,* or, presents part- 
 ing compliments), must be written in the left hand 
 corner. If the departure is a hurried one, the card 
 may be sent by a servant, but it is in better taste to 
 leave it in person. 
 
 Visits of condolence are made within a week after 
 the bereavement, unless the deceased be one of the 
 immediate family, when a fortnight may be allowed to 
 intervene. 
 
 The first call of a stranger must be returned within 
 a week. 
 
 Married men are not obliged to make calls of cere- 
 
 * To take leave. 
 20 
 
368 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 mony in person. It is sufficient for their wives to 
 leave their cards with their own. 
 
 Residents in a place make the first call upon any 
 new comers. 
 
 It is not necessary, nor is it customary in the city, 
 to offer refreshments to callers. In the country, 
 especially if the visitors have come from a distance, 
 it is not only courteous, but often a positive kindness 
 to do so. 
 
 If a stranger come to stay at the house of a friend, 
 those who are in the habit of visiting at the house 
 should call as soon as possible, and such calls should 
 be returned at the earliest practicable opportunity. 
 
 A well-bred person should endeavor to be always 
 prepared for callers. Illness alone, either your own, 
 or that of some one requiring your constant attention, 
 can only excuse you. 
 
 It is ill-bred to enter a drawing-room, with a hand- 
 some carpet upon it, in muddy boots and spattered 
 garments, to stand a dripping umbrella beside you, or 
 deposit over-shoes in the hall. 
 
 Never resume your seat after having once left it to 
 say adieu. There is nothing more awkward than to 
 take leave twice. 
 
 If you find yourself intruding upon an early dinner 
 hour, do not prolong your stay. 
 
CALLS. 369 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette, during a call, to dra * 
 ear to the fire to warm your hands and feet, unless 
 you are invited by the mistress of the house to do S3. 
 If you are alone in the drawing-room for a time, while 
 your visit is announced, and then go to the fire, leav? 
 your seat and advance to meet the mistress of the 
 house as she enters, and then take the seat she points 
 out to you. 
 
 In visiting an invalid, never offer to go to the room, 
 but wait for an invitation to do so. 
 
 A gentleman who is a confirmed invalid, may receive 
 the visits of a lady friend, but under no other cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette to remove the gloves 
 when making a formal call. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette for a caller, who is wait- 
 ing the entrance of the hostess, to open the piano, or 
 to touch it if it is open. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette to walk round the room 
 when waiting for your hostess, examining the furniture 
 or pictures. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette for a caller to open or 
 shut a door, raise or lower a window curtain, or in 
 any way alter the arrangement of a room. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette to turn your chair so as 
 to bring your back to any one seated near to you. 
 
370 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette when making a call, to 
 play with any ornament in the room, finger the fur- 
 niture, or seem indeed to be aware of anything but 
 the company present. 
 
 i 
 
 To prolong a call to the next meal time is a posi- 
 tive rudeness, as it forces your hostess to invite you to 
 the table whether convenient and agreeable or not. 
 
 In calling upon friends at a boarding-house or a 
 hotel, always write their names above your own upon 
 your card, that it may be certain to be delivered to 
 the right person. 
 
 CONVERSA TION. 
 
 'HERE are several principal rules of etiquette 
 which must be rigidly observed in conversa- 
 tion, the non-observance of which will at 
 once stamp the guilty party as ignorant of the forms 
 and customs of polite society. 
 
 The personal pronouns should be used as little as 
 possible when speaking of any one, either present or 
 absent. The name of the lady or gentleman to whom 
 reference is made, should be repeated if necessary, 
 but under no circumstances should the words " she ' 
 or " he," accompanied by a nod or jerk of the thumb, 
 in the direction of the person spoken of, be employed. 
 
CONVERSATION. 371 
 
 Avoid as utterly hateful the use of slang terms. In 
 a gentleman, such expressions are too suggestive of 
 low company, and intercourse with the worst asso- 
 ciates, and in a lady such expressions are too offen- 
 sive to be tolerated at all in good society. Slang 
 never ornamented conversation, but it invariably 
 sullies and degrades it. 
 
 Never hold your companion, in a conversation, by 
 the button-hole. 
 
 Do not interlard your conversation with scraps of 
 foreign language. It is an affectation of knowledge in 
 one direction, and a sort of tacit admission of igno- 
 rance in another; for it would seem to show that the 
 speaker was not well enough acquainted with his own 
 language to be able to express by its aid that which 
 could really be told as well, perhaps better, by it than 
 any other. 
 
 Quotations are to be avoided as much as possible. 
 When made, they should be exceedingly short. Short, 
 pungent, epigrammatic quotations, if suitable to the 
 subject of conversation, may be occasionally intro- 
 duced, but their use should be the exception, not the 
 rule. 
 
 Dr. Johnson says that in order to converse well, 
 " there must, in the first place, be knowledge there 
 must be materials; in the second place, there must be 
 
372 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 a command of words; in the third place, there must 
 be imagination to place things in such views as they 
 are not commonly seen in; and in the fourth place, 
 there must be a presence of mind, and a resolution 
 that is not to be overcome by failure this last is an 
 essential requisite; for want of it many people do not 
 excel in conversation." 
 
 To be known as an inveterate teller of stories, is a 
 great injury to a man in society. A short, brilliant 
 anecdote, that is especially applicable to the conversa- 
 tion, known to be new and never printed, is all that a 
 well-bred man will ever permit himself to inflict. 
 
 Remarks having, and intended to have, a double 
 meaning even puns are utterly to be deprecated. 
 
 Political and religious topics are not in good tante 
 in general conversation. 
 
 To listen with interest and attention is as important 
 in polite society as to converse well, and it is in the 
 character of listener that the elegant refinement of a 
 man accustomed to society will soonest prove itself. 
 
 Avoid as much as possible all egotism; in conversa- 
 tion stick closely to Cardinal Wolsey's direction to 
 "love thyself last." It is, to say the least of it, un- 
 seemly for a man to be constantly making himself the 
 subject of conversation. 
 
 There used to be a joke against Lord Erskine, who 
 
CONVERSATION. 373 
 
 was notably a talker of himself, that the printer, hav- 
 ing to print a speech which his lordship had delivered, 
 sent word to say that " he was very sorry, but he had 
 no more ' Fs ' in his founts than would suffice to set 
 up half the speech." 
 
 Suitable subjects, for time and place, form an im- 
 portant consideration in polite conversation. Grave 
 tones and important consideration are not suited for 
 the chit-chat of a brief call or a social evening, nor is 
 small talk an appropriate introduction, when the meet- 
 ings are for the purpose of discussing serious matters 
 Let gayety or gravity rule as plaee and occasion de 
 mand. 
 
 Gesticulations are in excessively bad taste. If you 
 do not wish to attract censorious remark, converse 
 quietly and without gesture. 
 
 Refrain from the use of satire, even if you are 
 master of the art. It is permissible only as a guard 
 against impertinence, or for the purpose of checking 
 personalities, or troublesome intrusions. It must never 
 be employed by a gentleman against a lady, though 
 ladies are prone to indulge in the use of this wordy 
 weapon. Their acknowledged position should, in the 
 eyes of a true gentleman, shield them from all shafts 
 of satire. If they, on the other hand, choose to in- 
 dulge in satire, it is the part of a gentleman to remon- 
 
374 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 strata gently, and if the invective be continued, to 
 withdraw. 
 
 4 
 
 Do not attempt to speak with the mouth full. 
 
 Do not, however much you may be pleased with 
 any remark, cry out " Bravo I " clap your hands, or 
 permit any gesture, silent or otherwise, to mark your 
 appreciation of it. 
 
 If you are flattered, repel it by quiet gravity. Re- 
 frain, too, from expressions of flattery to others; you 
 will surely offend any hearer who has delicacy of feel- 
 ing and refinement. 
 
 If an error in language, either in pronunciation or 
 grammar, escapes those with whom you are conversing, 
 never show that you notice it. 
 
 In addressing any one and in general conversation, 
 it will be well to bear in mind the advice of Polonius 
 to his son Laertes: " Be thou familiar, but by no 
 means vulgar." In society, a man should make him- 
 self as agreeable as he can, doing his best to assist 
 conversation, as well by talking gracefully and easily, 
 as by listening patiently, even though it be to a twice- 
 told tale. 
 
 Do not whistle, loll about, scratch your head, or 
 fidget with any portion of your dress while speaking. 
 'Tis excessively awkward, and indicative of low-breed- 
 ing 
 
CONVERSATION. 375 
 
 Strictly avoid anything approaching to absence 01 
 mind. Lord Chesterfield said: "When I see a man 
 absent in mind, I choose to be absent in body." And 
 there was really much reason in the remark. 
 
 Whispering is atrocious, and cannot be tolerated. 
 Private affairs must be delayed for private interviews. 
 
 Unless you are actually afflicted with deafness, 
 never ask to have a sentence repeated. 
 
 Never interrupt a speaker. It is equally rude to 
 supply words over which your companion may hesi- 
 tate a moment. 
 
 In general conversation avoid argument. If obliged 
 to discuss a point, do so with suavity, contradicting, 
 if necessary, with extreme courtesy, and if you see no 
 prospect of agreement, finishing off with some happy, 
 good-natured remark to prove that you are not hurt 
 or offended. 
 
 When addressing a person, look in his or her face, 
 not staringly, but frankly, never fixing your eyes on the 
 carpet or your boots. 
 
 Loud -laughing and giggling are in excessively bad 
 taste. 
 
 Eschew scandal, for " in scandal as in robbery, the 
 receiver is always thought as bad as the thief." 
 Mimicry is the lowest and most ill-bred of all buf- 
 foonery. 
 
376 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 Bashfulness is an inconvenient quality, which a great 
 authority has stated to be " the distinguishing charactei 
 of a booby." 
 
 Nicknames are abominable, and are never allowed 
 in good society. 
 
 If your friends become the subject of conversation, 
 never compare one with another, or mention the vices 
 of one to add to the lustre of virtue of the other. 
 
 Do not commence any conversation by the sugges- 
 tion of painful or disagreeable topics. To ask a friend 
 abruptly, " For whom are you in mourning ? " may be 
 tearing open anew a wound that was covered for the 
 time by intercourse with society. 
 
 Subjects or incidents calculated to disgust the 
 hearers, are to be avoided in polite conversation. 
 
 Do not use surnames alone, even if speaking of in- 
 timate friends. 
 
 Let no more than one person be speaking at one 
 time. 
 
 If you would preserve a character for truthfulness, 
 avoid the too common fault of exaggeration. 
 
 Cant is simply detestable. 
 
 The talented author of " Good Society" says: 
 
 " The great secret of talking well is to adapt your 
 conversation as skilfully as may be to your company. 
 Some men make a point of talking commonplace to 
 
CONVERSATION. 377 
 
 all ladies alike, as if a woman could only be a trifler. 
 Others, on the contrary, seem to forget in what respects 
 the education of a lady differs from that of a gentle- 
 man, and commit the opposite error of conversing on 
 topics with which ladies are seldom acquainted. A 
 woman of sense has as much right to be annoyed by 
 the one, as a lady of ordinary education by the other. 
 You cannot pay a finer compliment to a woman of 
 refinement and esprit, than by leading the conversa- 
 tion into such a channel as may mark your apprecia- 
 tion of her superior attainments. 
 
 " It should be remembered that people take more 
 interest in their own affairs than in anything else 
 which you can name. In tcte a tcte conversations, 
 therefore, lead a mother to talk of her children, a 
 young lady of her last ball, an author of his forth- 
 coming book, or an artist of his exhibition picture. 
 
 " Remember in conversation that a voice l gentle 
 and low' is, above all other extraneous accomplish- 
 ments, an ' excellent thing in woman.' There is a 
 certain distinct but subdued tone of voice which is 
 peculiar to persons only of the best breeding. It is 
 better to err by the use of too low than by too loud a 
 tone. Loud laughter is extremely objectionable in 
 society." 
 
 To invariably commence a conversation by remarks 
 
378 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 on the weather, shows a poverty of ideas that is truly 
 pitiable. 
 
 A person who has traveled will probably be severely 
 ridiculed if constantly referring to " the winter I spent 
 in Florence," or "when I was in London." 
 
 If conversation takes a tone that is offensive to good 
 taste, charity or justice, be silent. 
 
 Be not too ready to correct any statement you may 
 deem untrue. You may be yourself mistaken. 
 
 When visiting, be careful that yoa do not appear to 
 undervalue anything around you by comparing it with 
 what you have at home. 
 
 STREET ETIQUETTE. 
 
 ' )THEN a gentleman recognizes a friend in the 
 course of his walk, he must lift his hat 
 with the hand farthest from him. Lifting 
 the hat is a sufficient recognition between gentlemen; 
 but in meeting a lady, an old gentleman, or a clergy- 
 man, it is necessary to bow also. 
 
 No gentleman may smoke when walking with a 
 lady. 
 
 To eat anything, even confectionery, in the street, 
 is a sign of low breeding. 
 
STREET ETIQUETTE. 379 
 
 If a gentleman wishes to shake hands with a friend, 
 he must lift his hat with the left hand, leaving the 
 right free to extend. Never must he give his left 
 hand, or extend a portion of the right. The whole 
 right hand is en regie. 
 
 If a gentleman is walking with a lady, he should 
 insist upon carrying any book, parcel, or umbrella she 
 may have with her. 
 
 Swinging the arms is an awkward and ill-bred 
 habit. 
 
 To attempt to cross the street between the carriages 
 of a funeral procession is rude and disrespectful; and 
 we cannot but commend the foreign custom of remov- 
 ing the hat,' and standing in a respectful attitude until 
 the melancholy train has passed. 
 
 When a gentleman is walking alone, he must always 
 turn aside to give the upper side of the pavement to a 
 lady, to any one carrying a heavy load, to a clergy- 
 man, or to an old gentleman. 
 
 Never push violently through a crowd. If a gentle- 
 man or lady is really in haste, a few courteous words 
 will open a passage more quickly than the most vigor- 
 ous pushing or shoving. 
 
 If a gentleman and lady are obliged to cross a nar- 
 row walk, plank, or slippery place, the lady may go 
 first, and the gentleman walk close behind her, to aid 
 
380 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 her it needful. If the place is short, then the gentle- 
 man should go first, and then offer his hand to assist 
 the lady across. If a gentleman meet a lady or old 
 gentleman at such a crossing, he may, with perfect 
 propriety, assist them in crossing, even if perfect 
 strangers to him. 
 
 A gentleman must hold his hat in his hand if he 
 stops to inquire his own way, or to direct another. 
 
 If a gentleman sees a lady alone hesitating at a bad 
 crossing, or leaving a carriage at an awkward place, 
 he may offer his hand to assist her in crossing 01 
 alighting, raise his hat, bow, and pass on. A lady may, 
 with perfect propriety, accept such assistance from a 
 stranger, thanking him, and returning his bow. 
 
 If a lady leaves an omnibus or car alone, the gentle- 
 man nearest the door should alight, assist her out, and 
 enter the omnibus again. 
 
 Gentlemen should always pass up the fare of ladies 
 in an omnibus. 
 
 In a public conveyance, a gentleman should offer 
 his seat to any lady who is standing. 
 
 Loud talking and laughing in the street are sure 
 signs of vulgarity. 
 
 Never look back after any one passing it is ex- 
 tremely ill-bred. 
 
 Staring is a mark of low breeding. 
 
STREET ETIQUETTE. 381 
 
 Whispering in a public conveyance is excessively 
 rnde. 
 
 Never call out loudly to an acquaintance who may 
 be passing. 
 
 Young persons, meeting elderly friends in the street, 
 should wait for a recognition before speaking, and 
 then bow respectfully. To nod carelessly at an old 
 person is rude, if not actually insulting. 
 
 If you meet two gentlemen in the street, and wish 
 to speak to one of them, apologize to the other, and 
 make the detention as brief as possible. 
 
 A gentleman walking with a lady, should endeavor 
 to accommodate his steps to hers, not force her to 
 Stride along or trot with short steps for his long ones. 
 
 Lounging over a counter is ill-bred. 
 
 Putting your elbows on a counter is rude. 
 
 Pushing aside another person is an act of ill-breed- 
 ing. 
 
 A gentleman walking with two ladies may offer an 
 arm to each of them, and they may thus sandwich 
 him if they wish. 
 
 If a gentleman is walking with two ladies in a rain- 
 storm, and there is but one umbrella, he should give 
 it to his companions and walk outside. Nothing can 
 be more absurd than to see a gentleman walking 
 between two ladies holding an umbrella, which 
 
382 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 perfectly protects himself, and sends little streams of 
 water from .every point on the dresses of the ladies 
 he is supposed to be sheltering. 
 
 It is in bad taste to talk of personal matters in the 
 street, or to call loudly the names of persons you may 
 mention. It is impossible to say who may be near to 
 you. To discuss friends by name in a public convey- 
 ance of any kind is rude in the extreme. 
 
 If you meet a friend with whom you wish to shake 
 hands, never put out your own until you are quite 
 near, as nothing looks more awkward than hands ex- 
 tended to grasp each other two or three yards apart. 
 
 Never turn a corner at full speed, or you may find 
 yourself knocked down or knocking down another by 
 the violent contact. 
 
 Never talk politics or religion in a public con- 
 veyance. 
 
 Never stop to quarrel with a hack-driver. Pay his 
 fare and dismiss him; if you have any complaint to 
 make, take his number, and make it to the proper 
 authorities. To keep a lady standing while you are 
 disputing with a hack-man is extremely rude. 
 
 It is a sign of ill-breeding to change your seat in a 
 car or omnibus. If you are unfortunate enough to 
 have a neighbor who is positively annoying and un- 
 endurable, it is better to get out and take the next 
 
TRAVELING. 383 
 
 conveyance than to move to the other side. A gen- 
 tleman may move from a crowded side to one left 
 comparatively vacant. 
 
 TEA VELING. 
 
 jt yHERE are many little points of etiquette and 
 ( ^ courteous observances which, if attended to, 
 serve very materially to lighten the tedium 
 and fatigue of travel, the non-observance of them 
 being attended with proportionally disagreeable effects. 
 No situation can be named where the difference be- 
 tween the well-bred and ill-bred of either sex is more 
 marked than when they are upon a journey; and in 
 this country, where all classes are thrown into contact 
 in the various public conveyances, the annoyance of 
 rude company can scarcely be exaggerated. 
 
 A gentleman, on entering a public carriage or omni- 
 bus, must never step before a lady, but stand aside 
 until she enters, raising the hat slightly if she acknowl- 
 edges his courtesy, as a true lady will, by a bow. He 
 may offer to assist her if she appears to need it, even 
 if she is a perfect stranger to him. 
 
 If a gentleman consents to act as escort to a lady, 
 he must carefully fulfill all the requirements of that 
 rather arduous position. If she meets him at a wharf 
 
 21 
 
384 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 or depot, he must be a little before the hour for start- 
 ing, to procure her ticket, check her baggage, and se- 
 cure for her a pleasant seat. He must never leave her 
 to stand in an office or upon a wharf whilst he attends 
 to her tickets and baggage; but, having seen her com- 
 fortably seated in a ladies' room or cabin, return for 
 those duties. In arriving at a station, he must see her 
 seated in a hack before he attends to the trunks. 
 
 In a hotel, the gentleman must escort the lady to the 
 parlor before securing her room, but not detain her 
 afterwards. However agreeable she may be, he may 
 be certain she is longing to rest after her journey, and 
 remove the travel stains from her face and dress. He 
 must at once escort her to her room, ascertain what 
 hour it will be agreeable for her to take the next meal, 
 and meet her again in the parlor at that hour. 
 
 " Comparisons are odious," and to be continually 
 asserting that everything in the United States is vastly 
 superior to everything abroad is a mark of vulgarity. 
 If you really think there is nothing to be seen abroad 
 as good as you have at home, why, you are foolish 
 not to stay at home and enjoy the best. 
 
 If a train stop for refreshments, a gentleman may, 
 with perfect propriety, offer to escort a strange lady, 
 who is alone, to the refreshment-room, or to bring to 
 her any refreshments she may desire. If she accepts 
 
ETIQUETTE IN CHURCH. 385 
 
 his offer, he must see that she is served with all that 
 she desires before attending to his own wants. 
 
 Smoking in the presence of ladies is uncourteous, 
 even if there is no law against it in the car, stage, or 
 boat. 
 
 As regards the right to have the window up or down, 
 the person who sits facing the engine has the com- 
 mand. Ladies, being present, should, of course, be 
 consulted, no matter on which side they may be sit- 
 ting, and their wish must be considered a final settle- 
 ment of the question. 
 
 A gentleman who is traveling alone may offer little 
 courtesies to strangers, and even to ladies, carefully 
 maintaining a respectful manner, that may assure them 
 they need not fear to encourage impertinence by 
 accepting the preferred civilities. 
 
 ETIQUETTE IN CHURCH. 
 
 tN visiting a church in which you have no pew of 
 
 your own, wait in the vestibule until the sexton 
 
 comes to you, and request him to show you to 
 a seat. It is extremely rude to enter a pew without 
 invitation if it is partially filled, or without permission 
 if it is empty. 
 
386 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 Always enter a church slowly and reverentially. A 
 gentleman must remove his hat at the door, and never 
 replace it until he is again in the vestibule. 
 
 Conform strictly to the forms of worship. If you 
 are not familiar with them, rise, kneel, and sit as you 
 see others do. 
 
 Never whisper to a companion in church. 
 
 Never bow to any friend while in the church itself. 
 Greetings may be exchanged in the vestibule after 
 service. 
 
 Gentlemen must pass up the aisle beside their lady 
 companions until they reach the pew, then advance a 
 few steps, open the door, and stand aside until she has 
 entered, then enter, and close the door again. 
 
 Never pay any attention to those around you, even 
 if they are noisy or rude. 
 
 If you pass a book or a fan to a person in the same 
 pew, or accept the same attention, it is not necessary 
 to speak. A silent bow is all that etiquette requires. 
 
 If you have room in your own pew, and see a 
 stranger enter, open the door and motion him to 
 enter. 
 
 You may find the place and point it out to a 
 stranger, who is unfamiliar with the service ; but do so 
 silently. 
 
 To come late to church is not only ill-bred, but 
 
ETIQUETTE FOR PLACES OF AMUSEMENT. 387 
 
 disrespectful. It is equally so to hurry away, or to 
 commence preparations for departure, closing and 
 putting away the books, and such preparations, before 
 the service closes. 
 
 Never keep any one waiting if you are invited or 
 have invited them to go to church. 
 
 It is ill-bred for gentlemen to congregate in the 
 vestibule of a church and there chat familiarly, often 
 commenting audibly upon the service or the con- 
 gregation. 
 
 To show any disrespect to a form of worship that 
 may be new or strange to you is rude in the extreme. 
 To sneer at a form, while in the church using that 
 form, is insulting and low bred. 
 
 ETIQUETTE FOR PLACES OF AMUSE- 
 MENT. 
 
 GENTLEMAN who wishes to invite a young 
 lady, who is not related to him, to visit any 
 place of public amusement with him, must, 
 the first time that he invites her, also invite another 
 lady of the same family to accompany her. 
 
 It is a gentleman's duty to invite a lady long enough 
 before the evening of the performance to be certain 
 
388 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 of securing pleasant seats, as it is but a poor compli- 
 ment to take her where she will be uncomfortable, or 
 where she can neither hear nor see. 
 
 Never assume an air of secrecy or mystery in a 
 public place; and even if you have the right to do so, 
 assume no lover-like airs. It is rude to converse 
 loudly, especially during the performance; but a low 
 tone is all that is necessary; not a whisper. 
 
 To appear to comment aside upon those near you is 
 extremely ill-bred. 
 
 It is ill-bred to arrive late at any public entertain- 
 ment, and looks as if you were not sufficiently master 
 of your own time to be punctual. 
 
 In a theater, give your attention entirely to the stage 
 when the curtain is up; to your companion when it is 
 down. 
 
 If you speak to your companion during the perform- 
 ance, do so in a low tone, that you may not disturb 
 those who are near you, and wish to hear the actors. 
 
 In entering a concert-room or the box of a theater, 
 a gentleman should precede a lady, if there is not 
 room to walk beside her, until they reach the seats, 
 then hand her to the inner one, taking the outside one 
 himself. In going out, if he cannot offer her his arm, 
 he must again walk before her, until he reaches the 
 lobby, and then offer her his arm. 
 
TABLE ETIQUETTE. 389 
 
 
 
 Boisterous applause and loud laughter are un- 
 gintlemanly. 
 
 It is bad taste to distract your companion's interest 
 from the performance, even if you find it dull yourself. 
 
 No gentleman should leave a lady alone for a mo- 
 ment in a public place of amusement. 
 
 In a picture-gallery, never stand conversing before 
 the paintings in such a way as to interrupt the view of 
 others. If you wish to converse, stand aside or take 
 seats and do so. 
 
 It is an act of rudeness to join any party about to 
 visit a place of amusement, or at one, unless urgently 
 invited, and no one of taste will ever form a third. 
 
 Always enter a concert-hall or lecture-room as 
 quietly as possible. 
 
 Never push violently through a crowd at a public 
 place. 
 
 TABLE ETIQUETTE. 
 
 "T is impossible for a gentleman to act with per- 
 fect ease and graceful manner at table when in 
 company, at a hotel or any public place, unless 
 he habitually pay attention to those minor points of 
 etiquette, which form so distinctive a mark of per- 
 fectly good breeding. 
 
390 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR, 
 
 Even when a person habitually eats alone, it is bet- 
 ter to do so gracefully and with attention to the rules 
 of etiquette, that habits of awkwardness may not be 
 formed which it will be difficult to shake off when in 
 company. 
 
 To make noises when eating, sucking soup with a 
 gurgling sound, chewing meat noisily, swallowing as if 
 with an effort, smacking the lips, or breathing heavily 
 while masticating food, are all marks of low breed- 
 ing. 
 
 It is a bad habit to put large pieces of food into the 
 mouth. If you are addressed suddenly with your 
 mouth so filled, you are obliged to make an awkward 
 pause before answering, or to run the risk of choking 
 by swallowing the great mouthful too hastily. 
 
 Sit neither very near nor very far from the table* 
 
 To lean back in the chair is rude, and surely no 
 gentleman would ever be guilty of tipping his chair at 
 table. Sit erect, not stiffly, but in an easy position. 
 
 Bread must always be broken, never cut, and cer- 
 tainly never bitten. 
 
 To eat very fast is inelegant; to eat very slowly 
 bears an air of affectation. 
 
 A gentleman will always see that ladies are served 
 before eating himself. 
 
 It is against all rules of etiquette to soak up gravy 
 
TABLE ETIQUETTE. 391 
 
 with bread, to scrape up sauce with a spoon, or to 
 take up bones with the fingers. 
 
 Never cross the knife and fork on a plate until you 
 have finished eating. 
 
 Never hold your knife and fork erect in your hands 
 at each side of your plate, when conversing at the 
 table. 
 
 To blow soup to cool it, or to pour tea or coffee 
 into a saucer for the same purpose, are acts of awkward- 
 ness never seen in polite society. Wait until they are 
 cool enough to be pleasant. 
 
 Use the salt-spoon, butter-knife, and sugar-tongs 
 even when you are alone. 
 
 If you want to cough, sneeze, or blow your nose, 
 leave the table. If you have not time, turn away your 
 head, and lean back in your chair. 
 
 To pass a plate with a knife or fork upon it, or a cup 
 with a spoon in it, are acts of rudeness. Put your 
 spoon in the saucer, and your knife and fork on the 
 table, until you are served. 
 
 Never hurry away from the table as soon as you 
 finish eating, if others remain to converse. If you are 
 obliged to leave before a meal is finished or imme- 
 diately after, ask to be excused for so doing, and 
 apologize for the necessity. 
 
 At home, if you use a napkin-ring, fold your napkin 
 
392 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 and replace it in the ring when you have done with it. 
 If you are dining out, never fold your napkin, but 
 place it beside your plate. 
 
 None but a clown would use the table-cloth for a 
 napkin, pick his teeth with his fork, put his fingers in 
 his plate, or wipe his face with his napkin. 
 
 If you are unfortunate enough to find anything dis- 
 gusting in your food a hair in the soup, a coal in the 
 bread, a worm in the fruit, or a fly in your coffee do 
 not loudly exclaim, or disturb the appetite of others 
 by mention of your mishap. Remove the disgusting 
 object quietly, oa change your cup or plate without 
 remark. 
 
 TEE GENTLEMAN'S TOILET. 
 
 first requisite of a gentleman's toilet is un- 
 doubtedly the bath, which should be as brac- 
 ing as the constitution will allow, and used 
 morning and evening in summer, and every day in 
 winter. Only physiques of finest quality can endure, 
 much more benefit by, a cold-water shock all the year 
 round ; and though physique is always improvable, 
 great reformation must not be attempted rashly. Let 
 the bath of from sixty to seventy degrees be freely 
 indulged in by the strong, and even by the less robust, 
 
THE GENTLEMAN'S TOILET. 393 
 
 in summer time ; but in winter a temperature varying 
 from eighty-five to ninety-five degrees is the safest. 
 The flesh-brush should be vigorously applied to all 
 parts of the body, after which the skin must be care- 
 fully dried with Turkish or huck-a-back towels. 
 
 The next thing to be done is to clean the teeth. 
 This should be done with a good hard tooth-brush at 
 least twice a day. Smokers should rinse the mouth 
 immediately after smoking, and should be careful to 
 keep the teeth scrupulously clean. The nails should 
 also be kept exquisitely clean and short Long nails 
 are an abomination. 
 
 Our advice to those who shave is, like Punch's 
 advice to those about to marry " Don't." But it 
 must by no means be understood that suffering the 
 beard to grow is a process that obviates all trouble. 
 The beard should be carefully and frequently washed, 
 well trimmed, and well combed, and the hair and 
 whiskers kept scrupulously clean by the help of clean, 
 stiff hair-brushes, and soap and warm water. The 
 style of the beard should be adapted to the form of 
 the face; but any affectation in the cut of the beard 
 and whiskers is very objectionable, and augurs unmiti- 
 gated vanity in the wearer. Long hair is never in- 
 dulged in except by painters and fiddlers. 
 
 Beau Brummell spent two hours in dressing; but a 
 
394 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 gentleman can perform all the duties of his toilet to 
 perfection in less than half that time. 
 
 A gentleman should always be so well dressed that 
 his dress shall never be remarked at all. Does this 
 sound like an enigma ? It is not meant for one. It 
 only implies that perfect simplicity is perfect elegance, 
 and that the true test of dress in the toilet of a gentle- 
 man is its entire harmony, unobtrusiveness, and be- 
 comingness. 
 
 A man whose dress is appropriate, neat and clean, 
 will always look like a gentleman; but to dress appro- 
 priately, one must have a varied wardrobe. This 
 should not, on the average, cost more than a tenth 
 part of his income. No man can afford more than a 
 tenth of his income for dress. 
 
 The author of " Pelham " has aptly said that " a 
 gentleman's coat shonld not fit too well." To be fit- 
 ted too well is to look like a tailor's dummy. 
 
 For evening parties, dinner parties and balls, wear 
 a black dress coat, black trousers, black silk or cloth 
 vest, thin patent-leather boots, a white cravat, and 
 white kid gloves. Abjure all fopperies, such as white 
 silk linings, silk collars, etc.; above all, the shirt-front 
 should be plain. At small, unceremonious parties, 
 gloves are not necessary; but, when worn, they should 
 be new and fit well. A man's jewelry should be of 
 
THE GENTLEMAN'S TOILET. 395 
 
 the best and simplest description. False jewelry, like 
 every other form of falsehood and pretence, is un- 
 mitigated vulgarity. 
 
 Elaborate studs and sleeve-links are all foppish and 
 vulgar. A set of good studs, a gold watch and guard, 
 and one handsome ring, are as many ornaments as a 
 gentleman can wear with propriety. 
 
 Lastly, a man's jewelry should always have some 
 use, and not like a lady's, be worn for ornament only. 
 
 Colored shirts may be worn in the morning; but 
 they should be small in pattern and quiet in color. 
 Fancy cloths of conspicuous patterns are exceedingly 
 objectionable. The hat should always be black; and 
 caps and straw hats are only admissible in summer. 
 
 A man's clothes should always be well brushed, and 
 never threadbare or shabby. No gentleman can afford 
 to wear shabby clothes. 
 
 For the country, or the foreign tour, a gentleman 
 will select a costume of some light woolen material, 
 flannel shirts, thick boots, and everything to corre- 
 spond. 
 
 There are three things one should consult in the 
 matter of dress if one would always appear like a 
 gentleman viz., expense, comfort, and society. If 
 there is one thing in this world about which we can 
 entertain any degree of moral certainty, it is that we 
 
396 RULES FOR u*,HAVIOR- 
 
 must pay our tailor's bills. If, therefore, our means 
 are disproportionate to our wants, we must remember 
 the old proverb, " Cut your coat according to your 
 cloth," and dress as well as you possibly can upon 
 little money. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 GENTLEMAN must always hand a lady a, 
 chair, open the door for her to pass in or 
 out, remove anything that maybe in her way, 
 and pick up anything she may drop, even if she is an 
 entire stranger to him. 
 
 A gentleman will never look over the shoulder of 
 another who is either reading or writing. 
 
 No gentleman will ever be guilty of personality in 
 conversation. No wit, however keen; no sarcasm, 
 however humorous, can make personal remarks any- 
 thing but rude and vulgar. 
 
 A gentleman, in passing a lady where he must stand 
 aside to give her space, must always remove his hat, 
 and incline his head slightly. 
 
 It is a mark of low breeding to fidget either with the 
 hands or feet; to play with the watch-chain, toss the 
 gloves, suck the head of a cane or handle of a para- 
 sol, or to fuss with a collar or necktie. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS. 397 
 
 To swing the foot, or tap monotonously with the 
 feet, to drum with the fingers on a table or window, 
 are all breaches of etiquette. 
 
 It is ill-bred to speak of persons with whom you are 
 but slightly acquainted, by their first name. 
 
 Mysterious allusions are rude. 
 
 Flattery is a breach of etiquette. Johnson says: 
 " Of all wild beasts, preserve me from a tyrant; and 
 of all tame, a flatterer." 
 
 No gentleman may ever break an engagement, 
 whether it be one of business or pleasure, with a lady, 
 or with another gentleman. To break an engagement 
 with a lady is almost certain to give lasting offence, 
 and with good cause. 
 
 Irritability is a breach of good manners. Watts 
 says: " To be angry about trifles is mean and childish; 
 to rage and be furious is brutish; and to maintain per- 
 petual wrath is akin to the practice and temper of 
 fiends; but to prevent and suppress rising resentment 
 is wise and glorious, is manly and divine." 
 
 Nothing marks a gentleman more truly than a strict 
 punctuality. To keep another waiting is a breach of 
 etiquette, as well as often a positive unkindness. 
 
 To answer a civil question rudely, or even impa 
 tiently, is a gross breach of etiquette. Even if it in- 
 conveniences you or interrupts you, it will take no 
 
398 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 longer to answer kindly or politely than to wound or 
 offend by crustiness. 
 
 No gentleman may ever refuse an apology. No 
 matter how great the offence, how deep the resent- 
 ment, an apology can never be rejected. It may not 
 again revive friendship; but it must prevent quarrel- 
 ing. 
 
 An invalid, an elderly person, or a lady, must be 
 given the most comfortable chair in the room, must be 
 allowed to select the light and temperature, and no 
 true lady or gentleman will ever object to the exercise 
 of the privilege. 
 
 To assume a lazy, lounging attitude in company is 
 unmannerly. If any one is too weak or too ill to sit 
 up and assume a proper position, he had better stay 
 at home until he is stronger or in better health. 
 
 Never rise to take leave in the midst of an interest- 
 ing conversation; wait until there is a pause, and then 
 withdraw, with as little disturbance as possible. 
 
 It is proper, before taking a place at table, to say 
 "Good morning," or "Good evening," to those in the 
 room before you, and especially to those who preside 
 over the meal. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette to go into company with 
 the breath tainted by eating onions, garlic, cheese, or 
 any other strong-scented food. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS, 399 
 
 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette for a gentleman to enter 
 a lady's presence smelling of tobacco or wine. 
 
 To notice, by look or word, any deformity, any scar 
 or misfortune to the face or figure of a friend, is not 
 only a breach of etiquette of the grossest kind, but is 
 a want of humanity and good feeling as well. 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette to lean heavily upon a 
 table; and also to tip a chair to and fro when you are 
 talking; and you will be justly punished if you find 
 yourself sprawling on the floor with the chair on top 
 of you. 
 
 The man who will insult his inferiors is a boor at 
 heart, however polished he may appear amongst his 
 equals, or however deferential to his superiors. 
 
 To imitate the manners, voice, attitude, or gestures 
 of great men were a folly almost too absurd to men- 
 tion if it were not so common. Many persons, from a 
 real or fancied personal resemblance to some celebrity, 
 will ape their manners also, as if mere appearance 
 would make them equally distinguished. 
 
 " The scholar, without good breeding, is a pedant; 
 the philosopher, a cynic; the soldier, a brute; and 
 every man disagreeable," says Chesterfield. 
 
 Bishop Beveridge says: " Never speak of a man's 
 virtues before his face, nor of his faults behind his 
 back." 
 
400 RULES FOR BEHAVIOR. 
 
 " In private, watch your thoughts; in your family, 
 watch your temper; in society, watch your tongue." 
 
 " To arrive at the heart of true courtesy," says a 
 modern writer, " separate the old English titles for the 
 well-bred; they were the gentle-m&n. and gentle- 
 
 woman." 
 
 It is better to live alone than in low company. If 
 you cannot keep good company, keep none. 
 
 Sterne thus defines courtship: " True courtship con- 
 sists in a number of quiet, gentlemanly attentions; 
 not so pointed as to alarm, not so vague as to be mis- 
 understood." 
 
 It is a breach of etiquette to enter a room noisily, 
 slamming the door, or stamping heavily upon the 
 floor. 
 
 Spitting is as vulgar as it is disgusting. 
 
 It is ill-bred to refuse the last piece on the plate or 
 dish, if it is offered to you, as it implies a fear that 
 there is no more in the pantry. 
 
 To yawn, blow the nose loudly, suck or pick the 
 teet\ or clean the nails in company, are breaches of 
 etiquette. 
 
 Gentlemen should never stand upon the hearthrug 
 with their backs to the fire, either in a friend's house 
 or their own. 
 
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