PLAIN THOUGHTS
ON THE
ART OF LIVING;
DESIGNED FOR
YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN.
BY
WASHINGTON GLADDEN.
BOSTON:
TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
I868.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year i868, by
TICKNOR AND FIELDS,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
UNIVERSITY PRESS: WELCH, BIGELOW, & CO.,
CAMBRIDGE.




PREFACE.
M    OST of these essays were originally delivered as lectures to young men and
women. They were afterward rewritten and
printed in the Springfield Republican, under
the title "Plain Talks with Young Folks in a
Parson's Study."  This statement will explain,
though it may not excuse, their colloquial style,
and their somewhat magisterial tone.
As elsewhere printed, these homilies have
been received with all the favor they deserve.
The author desires, in this place, to make grateful acknowledgment of the many kind words
concerning them which have come to him from
strangers, and to express the hope that the more
permanent form which is now given them
may serve to enlarge and confirm their usefulness.
NORTH ADAMS, July 8, i868.




CONTENTS.
PAGE
I. THE MESSENGER WITHOUT A MESSAGn..   I
II. WORK FOR WOMEN...    15
III. DRESS.....       31
IV. MANNERS..46
V. CONVERSATION..  60
VI. HABITS..   73
VII. HEALTH AND PHYSICAL CULTURE.   ~       g 91
VIII. MIND CULTURE.                           105
IX. SUCCESS....    121
X. STEALING AS A FINE ART..       134'XI. COMPANIONSHIP AND SOCIETY...      154
XII. AMUSEMENT.....                69
XIII. RESPECTABILITY AND SELF-RESPECT.. I87
XIV. MARRIAGE......                204
XV. THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE MATTER.  22




PLAIN THOUGHTS ON THE ART
OF LIVING.
I.
THE MESSENGER WITHOUT A MESSAGE.
"But, howsoever, said he, let me run." -2 SAM. xviii. 23.
THIS young man who is so anxious to run bears
the not very euphonious name of Ahimaaz, the
son of Zadok.  Zadok his father was a priest of
some renown in the ancient city of Jerusalem.
Ahimaaz himself belonged to the army of Joab,
commander-in-chief of the forces of King David.
How valiant a soldier he was in battle we have
no means of knowing. The sequel shows that he
was well qualified to lead a retreat.  The incident
in his life of which we are speaking is the only
notable one we find recorded. It is a short story,
but very suggestive. Little did Ahimaaz, the son
of Zadok, think, when he petitioned Joab thus earnestly for the privilege of running, that his name
would travel so far down the ages.  Little did he
dream, when he started to run, that he was dragging
a moral after him!  But you are waiting for the
story.
I                          A




2     Plain Thoughts oin the Art of Living.
Know, then, that the scene of this incident is a
mountainous region on the east bank of the Jordan,
about midway between the Dead Sea and the Sea
of Galilee.  The great battle between the rebels
under Absalom and the loyal forces under Joab
Las just been fought, resulting in the total rout
of the rebels and the death of Absalom by a calamity you all very well remember. The rest of the
story I shall extract bodily from the Old Testament -
"Then said Ahimaaz, the son of Zadok, Let me
run and bear the king tidings, how that the Lord
hath avenged him of his enemies. And Joab said
unto him, Thou shalt not bear tidings this day,
but thou shalt bear tidings another day.  Then
said Joab to Cushi, Go tell the king what thou
hast seen.  And Cushi bowed himself unto Joab
and ran. Then said Ahimaaz, the son of Zadok,
yet again to Joab, But, howsoever, let me, I pray
thee, also run after Cushi. And Joab said, Wherefore wilt thou run, my son, seeing thou hast no
tidings ready?  But, howsoever, said he, let me
run.  And he said unto him, Run.  [I imagine
that Joab jerked out that'Run' rather impatiently.]
Then Ahimaaz ran by the way of the plain, and
overran Cushi.  And David sat between the two
gates [this was in the little city of Mahanaim, where




The Messenzger without a Message.    3
the king was awaiting the result of the encounter];
and the watchman went up to the roof over the
gate unto the wall, and lifted up his eyes and
looked, and behold, a man running alone.  And
the watchman cried and told the king.  And the
king said, If he be alone there is tidings in his
mouth. And he came apace and drew near. And
the watchman saw another man running; and the
watchman called unto the porter and said, Behold
another man also running alone. And the king said,
He also bringeth tidings. And the watchman saith,
Methinketh the running of the foremost is like the
running of Ahimaaz, the son of Zadok. And the
king said, He is a good man and bringeth good
tidings. [The bad logic of an anxious mind.] And
Ahimaaz called and said unto the king, All is well.
And he fell down to the earth on his face before
the king and said, Blessed be the Lord thy God,
which hath delivered up the men that lifted up
their hand against my lord the king. And the king
said, Is the young man Absalom safe? And Ahimaaz answered, WVVhen Joab sent the king's servant,
and me, thy servant, I saw a great tumult, but I
knew not what it was. And the king said unto him,
Turn aside and stand here.  And he turned aside
and stood still. And behold Cushi came, and Cushi
said, Tidings, my lord the king, for the Lord hath




4     Pdlain Thoughts on th e Art of Living.
avenged thee this day of all them that rose up
against thee. And the king said unto Cushi, Is the
young man Absalom safe? And Cushi answered,
The enemies of my lord the king, and all that rise
against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is!"
How natural is this story! It carries its credentials upon its face. Cushi was the messenger who
understood his errand.  How  delicately  and judiciously he breaks the unwelcome tidings to the
king. But Ahimaaz, poor fellow! what shall we say
about him? We see him standing, all blown and
sweaty before the king, after his long, fruitless race,
in utter dismay and confusion, having just found
out that he was totally ignorant of that which the
king desired most to hear: his piteous plight moves
our sympathy, and yet most of us will be wicked
enough to laugh at him. The history is the very
best of comedy; and I think our dear good fathers,
whose consciences would not let them laugh at
folly, must have been sorely exercised, when they
came to this passage, in their regular reading of the
Scriptures.
Ahimaaz, the son of Zadok, the messenger without a message, is the type of a large class which
has its representatives in all the generations. The
world is full of messengers without messages, and
laborers without occupations, and soldiers without




The Messenger witouazd a Message.      5
campaigns, and teachers without doctrines!  How
many aimless lives are lived!  How many a man
spends his days "in laboriously doing nothing," as
Grotius said; going down to his rest in the grave
wearied out with toil from which no visible issue
of good has come; ending, unhappily,
"A life of nothings, nothing worth,
From that first nothing ere his birth
To that last nothing under earth."
Thousands live and die without any fixed purpose.
All are eager to embark, but many know not whither
they are going; all are ready to run, but many know
not how far nor for what purpose. Young men grow
impatient of parental restraint; they catch the infectious restlessness of the world, and long to cut
loose from the safe moorings of home and launch out
into independence. They have no well-considered
plans of life, only a vague craving for liberty, as if
that, in itself, were a thing to be desired.  They
witness the exciting strife, and are eager to enter
the lists. They do not stop to ask whether they
have their tidings ready; "Howsoever," they say,
"let us run."  And starting thus in random courses
across the field of life, they are very much at the
mercy of circumstance or caprice.  Impetuous and
vigorous, they travel at a rapid rate in some direc



6     PZain Thoughats on the Art of Living.
tion; if good angels guide them, they may reach
eminent usefulness and honor; if bad spirits seduce
them, they go swiftly down to poverty and infamy.
Young men without a life-work in prospect, into
which they can pour their enthusiasm, and to which
they can yoke their passionate strength, are at sea
along a dangerous coast without a rudder.  Many
of the poor wretches you see every day in the
streets, ragged and filthy, —their physical health
ruined, their self-respect lost, their moral sense
blunted, and their hopes gone out in the blackness
of darkness, are wrecks that the gales of temptation
have driven upon that coast.  I cannot say how
many of them would have escaped this ruin if they
had fixed upon a lawful calling in their youth, and
had devoted to it the strength of their lives, but I
believe that it would have been the salvation of a
large share of them. The possession of an occupation in which he can take interest and pride is a
strong safeguard against the perils of wickedness
which threaten a young man.  A large share of
the crime and poverty about us can be traced back
to the objectless lives of the criminals and paupers.
Idleness is not the only accursed thing.  Aimlessness is an evil equally worthy of execration. The
object of this chapter, young men, is to warn you
against this dangerous manner of living, and to




The Messenger without a Message.      7
urge upon you the choice of some worthy calling.
I would counsel you to select your course wisely;
to have an errand, and to know it well before you
start. I would save you from the fate of those
thousands who loiter along through the best part
of their lives, waiting, like the immortal Micawber,
for something to "turn up."  You have seen them
lolling around the corner-groceries and the bar-rooms
of the hotels, and wherever there is a place to lean
and lounge, ready for anything that presents itself, and so constantly drawn into the ways of vice
and dissipation; for when a young man has no
regular occupation, he generally finds plenty of employment in doing odd jobs for the Devil.
In a true social system every man will have some
definite avocation. God never designed that there
should be a rich and aristocratic class who should
live at their ease and employ as their servants men
and women of inferior social and intellectual worth.
The Southern Confederacy was built upon that theory,
but it did not stand long, simply because it was
built on a bad foundation. The true social law was
laid down by the Great Teacher when he said: "Ye
know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, and- they that are great exercise
authority upon them; but it shall not be so among
you; but whosoever will be great among you let




8     Plain Tihouglts on the Art of Living.
him be your minister, and whosoever will be chief
among you let him be your servant. Even as the
Son of Man came not to be ministered unto but to
minister, and give his life a ransom for many."
According to this there is no right living but the
life of labor and service; and the only aristocracy
to be recognized is an aristocracy of industry arid
charity. And no matter what the circumstances of a
young man may be, he is just as much bound to have
a regular business, and to work at it industriously,
as he is to keep the laws and pay his taxes. Va-.
grancy is an offence under the laws of all wellordered societies. One who has no settled dwelling
and no visible means of support may be arrested
and sent to the workhouse.  The law of vagrancy
is not generally enforced against well-dressed vagabonds, but I wish it might be! I see no reason
why the wearing of good clothes should exempt a
man from deserved punishment.  Society does not
attempt, by laws and penalties, to compel young
men of property to find something to do, but it
has a valid claim upon every man for a life of
industry, and this claim should be enforced by
public opinion.  A  rich young man without an
avocation is a greater nuisance in society than the
sturdy beggar.
There is no excuse for aimlessness. Ample fields




The Messezg-er without a Iessage.      9
of opportunity ripe and ready for the sickle stretch
away on either side your path, and God is calling
you to enter in and reap. While whole townships
and territories of fertile soil are lying waste; while
untold millions of mineral wealth are hidden underground; while mountains of crude material are waiting for the fashioning hand of industry to give them
value; while traffic offers to honesty employment and
reward; while humanity with its countless physical
ills calls for help and healing; while ignorance is
groping for the light, and the bondsmen of prejudice
and selfishness and lust are pleading for liberty, —
who will complain of nothing to do?
The wastefulness of the aimless life is one of its
worst evils.  If a man has plenty of money and
nothing to do, he has nothing to do but to spend
his money; and it is apt to go freely for all manner
of foolish extravagances.  The fingers of the idler
are always busy with his purse-strings.  One who
has no steady employment is certain to have a vast
array of whimsical wants, the satisfaction of which
involves waste and often something worse.
But the waste of material riches is not so bad as
the waste of time and talent.  If you live this
Bedouin life, you accomplish nothing.  To effect
anything valuable you must work with design and
system. A man may be active and industrious, as
I*




Io    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
many aimless men are, but if he have no steady
life plan his work will be wasted. Suppose one man
should be set down in the midst of a vast wilderness,
furnished with seeds and implements of labor, and
instructed to do what he could in his life to reclaim
and cultivate it. And suppose he should start out
with an axe and a hoe and a pocketful of seeds,
and go wandering in an aimless way through the
wilderness all his life; chopping down a tree in
one place, and pulling up a brier in another, and
putting in a seed in another, always hard at work,
but not confining his labors for any length of time
to any one place, —how many traces would there
be of all his industry in the wilderness when his
life was ended?  But if he should mark out for
himself in some favorable locality some rational
boundaries within which he would expend his labor,
he might accomplish something. Thorns and briers
would give place, under his well-directed toil, to
fruitfulness and beauty, and one corner of the wilderness would bud and blossom as the rose. Such
is the waste of random industry, and such the result
of well-planned work.
Power as well as labor is wasted by living aimlessly. Some controlling purpose is needed to give
strength and symmetry to your character. Without
such a purpose your mental faculties will dwindle




The Messenzger without a Message.    I 
and deteriorate.  A man without a definite purpose
in life is like a watch without a mainspring.
Some of you have already made choice of a
calling, and have entered upon it. I hope you have
chosen wisely, and that you will honor your vocation, whatever it may be. Others have the choice
to make, and are puzzled to make it. It is an important question, and should not be hastily decided.
Your usefulness and happiness are to a great extent dependent upon its decision. My counsel is,
that you choose the work you love best. Of course
I would have you confine your choice within the
limits of honesty and usefulness.  Within these
limits I am quite willing to trust candid young men
to the guidance of their own tastes, and as for the
uncandid ones there is no use whatever in giving
them advice. Capacity is always found in the line
of inclination. The work which one likes he can
usually do well; and the work which he likes best
he can usually do best.  No work is really well
done which is not done con amore.  It might be
said, perhaps, that some people do not like work
of any kind. A farmer's boy, whom I once knew,
used to say there were only four things that he did
not like to do.  He did not like to thrash, nor
turn grindstone, nor saw wood, nor work.  If any
of you are like him in your tastes, my counsel will




I2   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
need to be slightly varied in order to fit your cases.
To such I should say, choose the work you dislike
least. If every kind of work is an evil, you will at
least have a preference among evils.
If you permit yourselves to be guided by your
tastes in this decision, you must be certain that it
is the calling itself you choose, and not the apparent rewards of the calling.  A young man may
imagine that he has a peculiar fondness for the
mercantile business, when, in fact, it is only the
wealth that the merchant sometimes amasses which
captivates him. What he is looking at is the brownstone front and the carriage with the liveried lackeys,
and the deference of mammon-worshipping fools.
Because many merchants contrive to get these, he
wants to be a merchant.  He does not once ask
himself whether he has a natural fondness for trade;
whether the field of bustling enterprise is one in
which he would feel at home; whether he is fond
of studying the peculiarities of men, in order that
he may adapt himself to all dispositions; whether
he can sagaciously devise measures, and then wait
for them  to mature.  To certain dispositions this
would be agreeable work, to others it would be
irksome. And it is this which you must be certain
that you prefer, —the work, and not its reward.
Others imagine that the legal profession would




The Messenger without a Message.     13
suit them, when really they are only thinking of the
extensive practice and the liberal fees of the lawyer,
or the avenues leading to political station and renown which are open to men in his profession.
They do not ask whether the lawyer's work will
be acceptable to them; whether the investigation
of abstruse legal principles, or the unravelling of
tangled evidence, or the discovery of analogies and
precedents, is a business for which they have a
natural aptitude.
Perhaps some of you have thought the farmer's
life would be a pleasant life; but was it the farmer's
independence, his flocks and his herds, and the
dainties the earth affords him, that attracted you,
or have you such a fondness for "green things
growing" that you could willingly spend your life
in the husbandman's toil? Would you really count
it a luxury "to plough and to sow, to reap and to
mow"? If you could, there are millions of fertile
acres waiting to give you welcome and good cheer.
The phrenologists advertise that they can guide
every man infallibly in the choice of his calling,
and perhaps they can, but I must own myself a
sceptic. It does not seem to be clear that men's
bumps are always conformable to their brains; and,
on the whole, I think you can more safely trust the
report of your own brains than the report of some



14   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
body else about your bumps. If you will let reason
and taste unite to make this decision for you, you
will not be likely to go far astray. Doubtless there
will always be mistakes in this matter, but I cannot
help thinking that if natural appetencies were more
closely followed, and men were less frequently led
into their callings by thoughts of worldly gain or
by morbid notions of duty, the world would be
happier and better.  Every man ought to be an
enthusiast in his calling. No man has any business
to be in a work to which he is driven by goads of
obligation or cupidity. Find the right thing to do,
young men, and then do it with all your might.




II.
WORK FOR WOMEN.
nM   ISS ANNA DICKINSON demands that poor
women shall have "something to do." There
is need that somebody should make the same demand in behalf of women who are not poor. Undoubtedly the conditions of society which this noble
woman so eloquently bewails are to be greatly lamented; but let us save part of our tears for those
unfortunate women in the higher circles of society
who have nothing to do.
Not long ago I read in some newspaper of fashion
an elaborate argument to prove that women ought
not to work. The writer did not seem to think that
work was dishonorable; but in his view it marred
the beauty and delicacy of women, and therefore
they ought not to engage in it. His notion was that
women ought to be kept as you keep wax flowers,
under a glass cover; that they ought to be fed upon
honey and whipped syllabub, and handled with the
utmost caution.  This doctrine has had many votaries, but few advocates. The practice of a large
number of women has been in accordance with this




I6 Plain Thougghts on Mth/e Art of Livizg.
theory; but not many persons of either sex have had
the hardihood to promulgate and defend the theory.
I have no doubt the dexterous logic of this hyperchivalrous young man carried comfort to the foolish
women of our fashionable society, who live in idleness, and whose consciences must sometimes upbraid
them for their manner of living. The young ladies
of what is called the best society have commonly
been  educated in accordance with  this  theory.
They have been taught just as few useful things as
possible, and just as many of the superficialities as
they had patience to learn; the solid branches of
education have been stricken from their courses
of study, because they required too much work; the
dear delicate creatures must not be encouraged to
think much, lest their mental faculties should gain
some vigor, and they should become obnoxious to
the terrible charge of masculinity. So with regard
to practical life. They have not been trained for
any useful occupation; even housewifery has been
under the ban of fashionable opinion. Some fashionable young ladies, it is true, have learned to do
housework; but part of them have concealed the fact
because they were ashamed of it; and others have
boasted of it as if it were a kind of eccentricity.
There have been many excellent families in the
higher circles, in which a different practice has pre



Work for Women.               17
vailed; but they have been exceptions to the general rule.
I do not think that this treatment of young women
has always been based upon the theory that work is
dishonorable. There has not been much theorizing
on the subject; but the main reason of it has been
the notion referred to, that physical labor and' mental
activity destroy the bloom and tenderness of the fair
creatures, and make them  less "interesting" and
captivating to men. It is for aesthetical, and not
moral, reasons that women have been forbidden to
work. De gustibus non es! disputandum. So far as
it is a question of taste, there is no use in quarrelling
about it. If any one thinks that young women who
grow up under this hot-house culture, with tender
and fragile bodies, and weak and shallow minds, are
more beautiful and engaging than those who have
gained both for their bodies and their minds some
vigor by the discipline of work, he is not only welcome to his opinion, but, so far as I am concerned, he
is welcome to as many young ladies of the former
class as he will keep and care for. I don't think he
will be able to manage more than one. As a mere
matter of taste, however, it seems to me that a girl
whose frame has been strengthened by a rational
amount of physical activity, and whose cheek wears
the bloom of a fresh and vigorous life, is far more
B




I8   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
beautiful than the pale, frail lily of the boudoir.
Frederick Robertson has said in one of his letters
all that I want to say, and I shall quote him:"I must acknowledge the truth of what you say,
in the main, that I do not admire any one who is not
in robust health. Of course, I must bate a little exaggeration in the form of statement; but I acknowledge that I think health more beautiful than illhealth, and a normal state more pleasant than an
abnormal. There may be some apparent exceptions
to the rule, as in the case of recovery from  illness
there is a certain delicacy which is very attractive;
but then it is the first flush of health which gives the
beauty, just like that which makes spring more interesting than summer. Still, it is not merely delicacy
that is beautiful; but delicacy pervaded by health,
and conquered by it,- life in its first fresh rising,
like a new childhood; but I acknowledge that I cannot acquire the sickly taste of admiring the delicacy
of ill-health.  Beauty, in my eyes, depends upon
association; and delicacy that calls up one's knowledge of morbid anatomy, and suggests the thought
of disordered functions, and abnormal states, and
physicians' attendance, never affects me with a sense
of beauty. This may not be a fashionable view, but
I am certain it is a sound and healthy one, fresh from
nature's heart."




Work for Women.              19
As a matter of taste, also, it seems to me that a
woman whose mental faculties are well trained and
developed, who has some knowledge of affairs, and
some opinions of her own, is more "interesting"
than one who knows nothing beyond the narrow
range of fashionable topics. Strong-minded women
may not always be attractive, but I decidedly prefer
them to the weak-minded ones.
Nothing is more certain than that this wholesome
vigor of body and mind are only attained by the discipline of work. And, therefore, if woman were only
designed for ornamental purposes, if her only mission were to minister to the westhetic enjoyments of
mankind, the way to fit her for the best fulfilment
of that design would be to give her a rational amount
of work to do.
But this is not merely a question of taste. I suppose that woman is designed to be something more
than an ornament in society. Her calling is higher
and nobler than this. She is to be a helpmeet for
man, -his partner in useful and beneficent activity.
The Divine Master himself said, "My Father worketh hitherto and I work"; and in the record of the
creation we are told that God created man in his own
image, male and female. Woman, as well as man, is
made in the image of God, and it can hardly be expected that she will find her highest happiness if she




20   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
does not equally with man fulfil the divine law and
copy the divine example by choosing for herself some
honest and productive work.
The law of labor is a universal law.  Among
persons who have health and reason there'are no
exempts. Wealth does not exonerate you from work,
neither does genius, neither does beauty, neither do
accomplishments. You can put in no plea whatever
that will be an effectual bar to the claim that God
has upon you for a whole life of earnest labor.
Nothing but age or physical weakness or mental
imbecility can release you from the obligation to
earn your own living.  No human being has any
right to eat the bread of idleness.  And yet how
many young women there are in the circles of
wealth and fashion who do literally eat the bread
of idleness. They never lift a finger toward their
own support.  They never eat a morsel of food,
they never wear a ribbon of clothing, that they
have earned for themselves.  This way of living
is disgraceful, whoever follows it. I hope that none
of you will ever live to see the day when you will
not have work to do that shall occupy the larger
share of your waking time.  I hope that none of
you will ever be compelled to labor incessantly,
without rest or relaxation, for all work and no play
is almost-not quite —as bad as all play and no




Work for Women.               21
work; but you ought to have enough labor to perform to give sweetness to repose and zest to recreation.
Of course it is not absolutely essential that every
person should be employed in manual labor; though
a moderate degree of that would certainly be a
benefit. Vigorous physical exercise every woman
ought to have, and if it can be taken in the way of
work, so much the better. It is no disgrace to you,
young women, to be found working with your hands.
But there are useful avocations in which the labor
is mental rather than manual, and these are just as
honorable, and no more honorable, than those of
the other class. Young women so employed have
no right to arrogate to themselves any pre-eminence
over other honest workers; neither have other honest
workers any right to call in question the validity of
their commission.  There is sometimes a jealousy
or misunderstanding between the two classes of
workers, —those who labor with their brains and
those who labor with their hands.  The mental
workers sometimes regard the manual workers as
beneath them, and the manual workers stigmatize
the mental workers as idlers and shirkers; but both
are wrong. The young woman who has chosen the
work of teaching - whether she teaches the spellingbook, or the piano, or any fine art-has no right




22   Plain Thzoughts on1 the Art of Living.
to assume any superiority to the house domestic or
the factory operative, provided the latter does her
work as conscientiously and as faithfully as the
former. And, on the other hand, the house servant
or the factory operative has no right to upbraid the
teacher with disobedience to the law of labor, because the latter labors with brain instead of muscle.
" Honor and shame from no conditions rise:
Act well your part, there all the honor lies."
And yet I dare say there are many young women,
who would not be ashamed of teaching as a calling,
but who would be ashamed to have it known that by
sewing or by any other kind of manual labor they
gained a livelihood. What a foolish shame! And
I am sorry to believe that there are others who are
even ashamed to let people know that they follow
for a livelihood a calling so respectable as that of
teaching. I know a young lady, whose father failed
in business, and who was obliged partly to support
herself by teaching, and yet she so carefully covered
her tracks, and so equivocated, when questioned about
her whereabouts during the daytime, that many of
her friends did not find out the fact for months.
Perhaps there are few young women in New England
who have such false notions concerning work, but in
other parts of the land there are too many of them.




Work for Womene.             23
Although they are compelled to work, they are unwilling that people should know that they do not
live in idleness, fed and clothed and supported entirely by money earned for them by the hard labor
of somebody else, -parent or ancestor or husband.
Ashamed of work! Ashamed to have it known
that you earn your own living!  I tell you, young
women, that of all the wicked and contemptible
notions society puts into your heads, this is the
wickedest and most contemptible.  Who sent you
into this world to sit in idleness, while all the rest
of God's universe are at work?  Who authorized
you to live at your ease upon the toils of other
people?  Who gave you permission to suffer those
natural powers of yours, which can only be developed by work, to be dwarfed and withered by disuse?  Instead of its being a disgrace to you to
earn your living by work, it is a burning shame to
you if you do not.
You think I use pretty strong language. Perhaps
I do. But I know I only half express myself. For
it is impossible for me to find, in the English language or any other language, any words that begin
to set forth the contempt I feel for any able-bodied
human being, male or female, who attempts to live
in this world without earning a living, either by
brain or muscle.




24   Plain Thozghts oin the Art of Living.
There are just two exceptions to this law. The
one is the case of children and youth who are pursuing courses of education. The other is the case
of those persons who, possessing a competence by
inheritance, or as the fruit of previous labor, choose
to spend their time, not in earning their daily bread,
but in labors of charity. No one is relieved by the
possession of riches of the obligation to work; but
if you are rich, it is your right, if indeed it is not
your duty, to turn your labors aside from the channels of accumulation into the channels of benevolence. These, with the cases before mentioned of
the aged, the sick, and the imbecile, are the only
exceptions I know to the law, "In the sweat of thy
face thou shalt eat thy bread."
"But what shall we do?" I hear you ask. "Noble
avocations without number await laborers from among
men. But what shall women do?"  Whatever they
can do well. The foolish customs of society have excluded women from many avocations that they would
have adorned.  But it is not necessary for you to
be governed by these antiquated whims of society.
Modestly but earnestly claim for yourselves the right
to do whatever work you can do well, and to receive therefor the same wages that men receive.
Men can help but little in this matter if you do not
help yourselves, and when you do help yourselves




Work for Women.               25
there will be plenty to help you.  We might have
argued and debated for centuries about the fitness
of women for the medical profession, without coming
to any agreement, had not two or three women, by
braving the prejudice against them, and toiling on
year after year, amidst discouragement and ridicule,
earned the diploma of the faculty, and settled the
question.  The number of those who will devote
themselves to this calling will yearly increase; and
fifty years hence the world will wonder how people
could have lived so long without female physicians.
So it will be in other callings; but each one must
have its pioneers, and young women must not be
scared from their purpose to follow the work they
love best and can do best by that hydra-headed
monster, Public Opinion.
Let me not,.however, disparage in your thought
that one particular calling, in which the larger share
of your sex find employment, -the calling of housewifery. While you may qualify yourselves to earn
your livelihood in other fields of labor, I would not
have you look with contempt upon this noble avocation. For as I account the work of the husbandman
to be the noblest of all the secular callings that men
follow, so do I regard the work of the housewife as
the noblest of all the callings that are open to women. Secular, do I say? Nay, there are few call2




26   Pla in Thougits on the Art of Livinzg.
ings more sacred.  While there is hardly another
work that gives more scope for the mind, there is
absolutely no other that requires a better, heart.
Manual skill the most practised, scientific knowledge
the most thorough, artistic taste the most delicate
and exquisite, must be combined in the character of
the ideal housewife with moral grace and gentleness
and strength. Whoever presides over a household,
wisely ordering its affairs and keeping its multiform
and discordant interests in harmony, does not eat the
bread of idleness, though but a small portion of the
manual labor of the house be performed by her
hands. If there is any woman on earth who earns
her living, it is the faithful housekeeper.
The next best place to heaven is home. The one
is a house not made with hands, but woman is the
architect of the other. Not of the brick walls and
windows and partitions, but of the content and comfort and peace, and the nameless and numberless
other delights which we mean when we speak that
sweet word, Home. We should have no such word
in the language, were it not for woman. She who
hath builded one home, who hath laid the foundations thereof in prudence, and reared upon them
such walls of shelter and defence as can be fashioned
of truth and integrity, and hath woven the roof of
hospitality, and hath stored it with industry, and




Work for Women.              27
warmed it with love, and lighted it with cheerfulness,
hath created a temple whose memory shall endure
when the proud structures of Wren and Angelo have
returned to dust and chaos.  The world has no
higher honor to bestow upon any woman than to
make her mistress of a happy home. The homes
of a people are the sources of its national life. If
they are pure and peaceful, the nation will be prosperous and powerful. Thus do women take the destinies of people into their hands; thus do they mould
and fashion empires and republics at their will.
When the first temple was built at Jerusalem, the
work was all done in distant and diverse parts of the
kingdom.  Here were men chiselling stones, there
they were carving pillars, and yonder they were fashioning capitals, so that at length, when the workmen
had all finished their work and brought it to Jerusalem, the structure went up noiselessly, and "there was
neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in
the house while it was in building." So in the homes
throughout the land, women are fashioning the pillars and ornaments and lively stones of the temple
of society. The fabric goes up noiselessly, and the
names of the builders are not always widely known
in this world, but they shall have their reward when
the kingdom that can be shaken shall pass away, and
the kingdom that cannot be moved shall rest upon
its everlasting foundations.




28    Plain Thoughts onz the Art of Living.
But not only is there work for you at home. To
you are especially intrusted the gentle ministries of
charity and consolation. God has commissioned you
to care for the sick and the suffering; you have a
double endowment of the delicate tact and sympathy
which are needed for the right performance of this
most sacred task. In ten thousand dwellings, where
ignorance and poverty dwell, there is work for you.
Gather the starving children about you; and while
you relieve their physical wants, unfold for them the
eternal mysteries, and teach them what life is and
what are its duties and its promises. You do not
know what wreaths of blessing are blossoming for
you in these lowly places! You do not know what
sweet incense of gratitude might ascend to the throne
of the All-merciful, bringing down gladness upon your
heads! Are not the sincere benedictions of Christ's
poor worth more to you than the compliments of
curled and jewelled dandies?
In the church of the living God there is work for
you. He has sent you to preach the Gospel in the
silences of domestic life, in the ears of those who are
too busy or too giddy to hear it from any lips but yours.
Are ye not all this world's ministering spirits, sent forth
to minister to them who shall be heirs of salvation?
It does not seem to me, young women, that your
"sphere" is a narrow one, even as society is at




Work for Women.                   29
present constituted.  Putting together its two hemispheres of industry and charity, it appears to be about
as large as most of you can worthily fill. And now
let me finish this chapter with words that were written
several years ago by one who was at that time, I believe, an operative in a New England mill, -whose
faculties were trained to some purpose, as the words
themselves will witness, *by the discipline of work,
and who has now passed to her proper throne in the
centre of a happy household: —
"Work! while thy pulse with full vigor is beating,
Toil and temptations with cheerfulness meeting;
Work! for the day He has given thee is fleeting, -
All the good angels will smile on thy toil;
When thou wouldst stumble their strength shall uphold thee;
Lovingly will their white pinions enfold thee;
God from his bright throne will lean to behold thee;
Sunshine and shower he will send on the soil.
"Work!'tis the lesson all nature is preaching;
Lift the dim minds through the darkness upreaching;
Gladden sad hearts by thy life's blessed teaching;
Scatter truth broadcast at morning and even.
Bright is the crown that rewardeth thy striving;
Better the great world should be for thy living;
Give, and thy store shall increase with the giving;
Sow, and the harvest shall ripen in heaven.' So when thy toiling and striving is over,
When the green turf shall thy pulseless heart cover,




30    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
Round thy low grave shall blest memories hover;
Gratitude's tears shall be dropped on thy stone.
And when thou stand'st at the dread bar of heaven,
Trembling and shrinking, a sinner unshriven,
Christ o'er thy record shall write,''T is forgiven';
God will approvingly whisper,'Well done!'"




DRESS.
I  SHALL not trouble you with many quotations,
but when I find one as good as this which follows you will be glad to get it:"The highest distinction of man as an animal
among animals tlies, not in his two-handedness or in
his erect figure, but in his necessity and right of
dress.  The inferior animals have no option concerning their outward figure and appearance. Their
dress or covering is a part of their organization,
growing on them or out of them, as their bones are
grown within. Be it feathers or fur or wool, —be it
in this color or that, -brilliant as the rainbow or
shaggy or grizzled or rusty or dull, they have no
liberty to change it, even if they could desire the
change, for one that is glossier and more to their
taste. But man, as a creature gifted with a larger
option, begins at the very outset to show his superior
dignity in the necessary option of dress. It is given
him for his really high prerogative to dress himself,
and come into just what form of appearing will best
satisfy his tastes, or, what is very nearly the same




32    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Livcing.
thing, will best represent the quality of his feeling
and character." *
This conversation is not, then, about a trivial subject. If I take it for granted that the young folks,
and especially the young women, are somewhat interested in it, my supposition will be no disparagement
of their good sense.
Dress has an obvious and close relation to character. The correspondence between the inner and
outer man is often apparent. Qualities of mind and
heart display themselves in the apparel.  There are
many exceptions to the rule, but it is the rule that
well-behaved people, whether they be rich or poor,
are well-dressed people.  When the morals of a man
begin to deteriorate you can often discover the fact in
his dress. It may be as stylish and as costly as before,
but it will begin to look unkempt and slovenly. And
not only does character express itself in dress, but
dress reacts upon character. There is some truth,
after all, in the absurd parody of Pope's line,
"Dress makes the man, the want of it the fellow."
Care and painstaking in regard to one's external appearance, if they be not excessive, tend to rectify and
perfect his internal habits.  If you are tidily and
tastefully dressed, you feel better contented with
* Bushnell's "'Christ and his Salvation," p. 413.




Dress.                  33
yourself than if you are dressed in awkward or slovenly garments. Unbecoming apparel wounds your
self-respect. This is not all vanity; for you are often
conscious of such feelings when appearance is not
taken into account.  There have been occasions
when you were not in society, and did not expect to
have your solitude interrupted, when the feeling that
your dress was untidy or uncomely has so harassed
you, that for your own peace of mind, before you
could compose yourself to the task in hand, you
were obliged to arise, and change or rearrange your
garments. All this shows how powerfully our dress
reacts upon our feelings, and through them upon our
characters.
There are four questions which most people are
apt to ask concerning any article of dress: Is it
comfortable?  Is it beautiful?  Is it fashionable?
How much did it cost? The first question is, of
course, the most important one. The first quality
of a garment is usefulness or comfort. No one denies the propriety of providing for ourselves such
raiment as shall shield us from the cold and the
damp. Our bodies as well as our souls are precious
gifts of God, and we are bound to take care of them.
Our clothing must neither cramp nor hamper nor
expose our bodies; it must afford them protection
and comfort.
2*                         C




34    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
The second question may by some persons be
deemed irrelevant, but to me it seems but a little
less important than the first. Raiment should not.
only be comfortable, it should be beautiful and becoming. This is a matter about which some good
people are not altogether clear. There was a time
when it was deemed sinful by many persons to wear
a garment if it had any pretensions to beauty of color
or of form. But a few years ago, - within the memories of many of us who are young, -a violent crusade was being preached against all beauty of attire.
Unquestionably there was then as there is now
abundant cause for a firm protest against vanity and
extravagance; but it is difficult for people who start
out as reformers to stop before they become fanatics.
If those good Christian people had borne strong
testimony against the profusion and excess of dress
and ornament which everywhere prevailed, they would
have done well; but they went further, and laid down
the most absurd laws in the matter. They permitted
none but the homeliest styles and patterns; they
placed all colors but the most sombre and dreary
under the ban; and as for ornaments, the whole
crusading force armed themselves with scourges of
threats' and small arguments, and determined to
drive them out of the temple. Now I believe that
these Christian people were perfectly conscientious in




Dress.                  35
all this, but I do not believe that they gained anything
for themselves or for their cause by means like these.
When they set themselves against all beauty in attire,
they must also, if they were strictly consistent, have
arrayed themselves against all beauty in art or nature;
for if objects of animate and inanimate nature may
wear beautiful forms and brilliant hues, surely man,
the lord of nature, has a right to dress as well as
they; and when you deny man's right to adorn himself, so much more strongly as man is higher and
better than nature must you condemn the splendid
attire which the earth is constantly wearing. Therefore I think such a glorious sight as a sunset should
have been painful to these persons, and a border of
tulips or verbenas should have caused them many
pangs of regret. They ought to have sighed to see
the'luxuriance of the apple blossoms in the springtime, and the myriad colors of the forests in the
autumn ought to have been to them a source of grief.
They ought to have preached that the beauty of creation is a consequence of the fall, that if Adam had
not sinned we should have colorless skies and fields
and forests, and that all natural objects would have
assumed awkward and ungainly forms, instead of the
forms of symmetry and grace which we poor depraved
mortals cannot now help admiring! No! beauty is
not sin; it is one of God's attributes. We ought




36     Plain Tlozughts on tie Art of Living.
by all means in our power to increase our capacity
of loving and enjoying it. And since the wearing
of garments that are beautiful is one means to that
end, it is certainly not wrong for us to wear them if
we can obtain them without sacrificing more valuable
things. Of course there are many things of more
importance than beautiful clothing; and every one
must be careful that he does not prefer the less to
the greater.
My reasons for believing that it is even a duty to
dress beautifully are briefly these: First, in the Bible
beautiful raiment is always spoken of as if it were a
good thing in itself. In many parables and figures
of speech, it is used to represent excellence of character, - spiritual grace and beauty. And it is evident
that, if beautiful raiment had seemed to the sacred
writers to be a frivolous thing, or a thing of no consequence, they would not have chosen it as a type
of the highest beauty, — the beauty of the spirit.
Secondly, in the fact already mentioned, that dress
reacts upon character, we find a reason for giving
attention to the matter of beauty in attire. A reflex
influence is continually exerted by the outer upon the
inner man, and a tasteful and beautiful dress will
help, insensibly, to cultivate a tasteful and beautiful
spirit.
Is it fashionable? is the third question commonly




Dress.                   37
asked about dress. And with many persons it is the
main question.  Stylishness, though it is essentially
of far less consequence than comfort or beauty, is
by thousands regarded as the chiefest of the qualities
of raiment. I fear that the majority care less to have
their garments comfortable or beautiful than to have
them fashionable. Every day I see numberless garments worn for fashion's sake, in the wearing of
which comfort is sacrificed and beauty is outraged,
and even decency is shocked. It would not be possible for the most grotesque fancy to contrive any
garment so ridiculous that human beings would not
wear it, if only assured that it was to be fashionable.
Think of what has been, — of what is! Can you
conceive of anything more utterly absurd than those
monstrous bags of something' or other which women
have been hanging to the backs of their heads of late?
And yet how few women in the land have dared to
resist this horrible demand of fashion!
The idea of a uniformity of style is in itself absurd.
If the faces and figures of men and women were
uniform, and changed uniformly from year to year, it
would be possible to have one style of dress for all;
but since men and women are so unlike, nothing can
be more ridiculous than that they should. attempt to
follow one prevailing fashion. By the law of fitness
a large face should have a broad covering; but the




38   Plain Thoughts onz the Art of Livinzg.
fashion-mongers ordain that bonnets shall be small
this year, and all over the world big round faces stare
out from under little top-knots which only serve to
aggravate their bulginess.  Upon some ladies the
tight basque is always becoming, but a stout damsel
or a fat dowager stuffed into a tight basque cannot
look otherwise than comical. And yet if this garment happen to be the style, thousands of the fat
women put it on and go waddling through the streets
like perambulating grain-bags! Pink is X color becoming to very few American women; but if some
shade of pink is the raging color, the great multitude
of sallow visages will be swathed in it, making them
look far more coppery and cadaverous than they
really are.
It is morally impossible that the styles of female
attire should be tasteful and decorous so long as they
come from so questionable a source. You all know,
young women, where they originate. The harlots of
Paris make the fashions, and you follow them!
But you tell me that it is not comfortable to be
singular. You do not like to make spectacles of
yourselves by disregarding all the laws of fashion.
I do not blame you for this feeling. It is doubtless
better that we should all conform in some general
way to the prevalent style; but there are some extremes to which we ought not to go. Never wear




Dress.                   39
anything that is indecent or positively ugly, because
fashion requires it; and do not employ any Frenchifled Yankee "Madame" to decide for you what is ugly
and what is indecent. Judge for yourselves. If you
find a garment which is not all the rage, but which is
more beautiful and more becoming than those which
happen to be fashionable, don't be afraid to wear it,
I beg you. Do not confess yourselves the bondslaves of this whimsical tyrant.  Its empire is becoming more fickle and more despotic year by year;
and the number of those who are its reasonless servitors is increasing year by year. It is the sole authority that many men and women obey. There are
hundreds of thousands who would sooner break
God's law than the law of fashion. Some of you
who are reading this page would, I fear, speak falsehood or do injustice sooner than appear in the street
in an antiquated coat or a bonnet of the last year's
style. That seems a harsh statement, but it is true;
and can any truth be more melancholy? This tyranny of fashion over the bodies and souls of men
and women has become so galling that it is the duty
of all good people to protest with the sternest emphasis against it, and to resist by example as well as
by word its arrogant pretensions. It is not wonderful
that men have sometimes been so alarmed by its encroachments that they have made a religion of plain



40   Plain Thoughts on tthe Art of Living.
ness. But somewhere between these two extremes, —
the ugly uniformity of the Shaker dress and the fripperies of foppery, - there must be a golden mean.
Try to find it.
The fourth question that we are wont to ask concerning every garment is, How much did it cost?
And, strangely enough, costliness is often considered
one of the cardinal qualities of raiment.  Of two
articles of clothing the more expensive is deemed
the more desirable, even though it may not be more
serviceable or beautiful.  Millions of dollars are
squandered every year for clothing which is intrinsically neither beautiful nor valuable.  This wanton
extravagance in dress is not only senseless, it is sinful. Vanity and ambition are the two vices of which
it is the offspring; and the silliness of this vanity and
the wickedness of this ambition are so obvious, that
no ink need be wasted in denouncing them.
I have spoken now of the proprieties of dress.
The subject has been taken out of its relations, and
has been considered as a separate topic. Now let me
ask, What is the relative importance of this subject?
Should it be the chief subject- of consideration and
discussion, or should it occupy a subordinate place
in your thought? That you have a perfect right to
think about it we have agreed; but how much ought
you to think about it? Dress ought to be an orna



Dress.                  41
ment; should it be your chief ornament?  Not according to a certain ancient authority.  "Let not
your adorning," says Peter the apostle, "be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair and of wearing
of gold or of putting on of apparel." That is to say,
you are not to rely upon these for adornment; there
are other decorations more beautiful than these. I
have no doubt that, in the minds of some of you, this
matter of dress has usurped a place which does not
belong to it. To some of you it has become the one
great object of thought and desire. If you should
frame a catechism, you would be inclined to say that
the chief end of man is to wear fine clothes and enjoy them forever. And you do not all belong to the
wealthier classes either.  Some of you are poor.
You work hard every day in the shops and mills,
you subsist on scanty fare, you deny yourselves rest
and pastime that you sadly need; and the great incentive to all this toil and self-denial is your love
of dress. All day as you work you are thinking of
some new garment you intend to buy, or imagining
what magnificent wardrobes you would have if riches
should come to you; in the pauses of your work your
talk with your workmates is all about the latest styles;
and when you go home at night, worn out with work,
you sit down with your needles to fashion some elaborate nothing with which to deck these bodies you




42    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
are. doing your best to destroy. Your pale faces bear
witness to me, whenever I see you, that the finery upon
your backs has been paid for in the life-blood drained
from your veins.  From  the bottom of my heart, I
pity you! I wish you could see that there is something higher to live for than dress; but I am afraid
you never will. I wish you could understand that it
would be better for you to be content with less expensive and less stylish garments, and to devote part
of the time you spend in earning them to exercise
and sport in the fresh air and the sunshine.
This is not the worst fruit of this passion for fine
clothes.  Young people sometimes sacrifice to it
something even more precious than bodily health
and mental culture. Many a young man, goaded on
by this craving, and unable to satisfy it from his own
resources, has dipped into the till of his employer,
deeper and deeper, till at last his name has been
written on the records of crime, and his fair fame
has been lost forever. Many a young woman, finding the swift needle or the swifter shuttle too slow to
keep up with the demands of her appetite for dress,
has sold her virtue to purchase garments of shame!
Only those of you who are poor are tempted to
sacrifice health and integrity to the passion for fine
clothes; but there are other grave consequences to
which all are liable who make it the ruling passion.




Dress.                  43
One of these is the weakening of the intellect. You
know our minds take shape and dimensions from the
objects upon which we most employ them.  If we
deal chiefly with that which is of trivial or secondary
importance, our intellectual powers are dwarfed and
stunted in their growth. Thus it is with some young
people. They have given up their thoughts so long
to ribbons and laces and dickies and cravats, that
their minds have become sadly enfeebled and belittled. All intellectual pursuits which demand patient
and profound thought are beyond their reach; nothing is more wearisome to them than the consideration
of serious questions in science or in morals. You
and I meet with people every day whose minds have
been starved into semi-imbecility by incessantly feeding them upon the husks of fashion.
This law of the mind is equally the law of the
heart. When the heart is set upon trifling or unworthy objects, it grows strait and shallow. It is
impossible that one who is completely wedded to the
vanities of dress should be faithful to the vows of
affection. No man nor woman can serve two masters; and when Fashion is the chief object of worship,
the household deities are every day blasphemed and
set at naught. I have found, too, in my experience
as a pastor, that those persons with whom dress is
the ruling passion are not easily impressed with the




44    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
truths of religion. It is easy enough to scare them
by talking about death and hell; but when anything
is said of the dignity of the Christian life, and the
rewards of self-sacrifice, they listen as though they
heard not. Their minds are so full of fripperies and
furbelows, that these weightier matters can find no
room within them.
Young men and women, I charge you that you
follow not this dangerous road. Do not suffer these
things of secondary worth to become the main objects
of your living. You cannot afford to pauperize your
minds and petrify your hearts in this way.  The
world has need of you, and you have no right to
squander the life God has given you upon such ignoble pursuits. Do you never think, when you deck
yourselves in costly raiment, of the thousands about
you in rags and wretchedness? Do no visions ever
appear to you of little pinched forms that crouch
hungry and cold in damp cellars and frosty garrets, -
of little bare feet that in winter-time go pattering
over the icy pavements, leaving blood-marks behind,-of multitudes of the destitute and the ignorant and the forsaken, who are calling you with
piteous entreaties to come and help them? While
the world is so full of want and sorrow and heathenism, will you turn life into a gay masquerade, and go
flaunting your follies forever in the faces of those who




Dress.                 45
need the inspiration of -your love and the uplifting
of your hopefulness, and the relief your charities
could bring them? Let your minds go forward now
and often to that moment when you shall stand within
the border-lands, looking back upon the life that is
closing, and resolve to live so that that last moment
shall not be clouded with remorseful thoughts.
God grant that you may be clothed with the robes
of a spotless integrity and an unfailing charity; and
when the great feast shall be spread in heaven, and
the King shall come in to see his guests, may he
find every one of you there, with the wedding garment on i




IV.
MANNERS.
I N one view, manners may be regarded as of secondary importance. It is sometimes said that if
the central principles of the life are right, there will
be little need of preaching about mere ceremonies of
deportment; and there is a measure of truth in this
assertion. But it is equally true, that if the central
principles of the life are right, there is little need of
preaching about honesty or patience. How shall we
know that the life is built on the right principles, but
by observing the- deeds in which it issues? and of
these the most trifling are sometimes the best exponents of character. If you want to know which way
the wind is blowing, you do not look at solid blocks of
masonry, nor do you watch the trunks of stout trees;
you observe the slender branches at the top, or the
dry leaves which the wind has torn from their stems.
"Straws show which way the wind blows." The primary signification of the old proverb is, that even the
slightest phenomena will sometimes guide us to their
fundamental law; but it is true that the slightest phenomena are sometimes most valuable in leading us




Manners.                   47
to correct conclusions.  Straws are infinitely better
indices of the direction of the wind than granite
boulders. So are the rules of good manners, sometimes, I think, better tests of the moral condition,
than the moral precepts themselves. Many a man
whose character you could hardly criticise, if you
compared it with the commands of the decalogue,
would soon reveal his selfishness if you should try
him by the laws of good manners. He would be
scrupulous in observing all the plain requirements
of morality, but the instant he passed beyond the
boundaries of "thou shalt" and "thou shalt not,"
he would be off his guard, and then you would soon
see his true character manifested.
"Every tree is known by its fruit"; but some trees
are well known also by their blossoms. Such a one
is the tree of human life, of which morals are the
fruit and manners are the flowers.
The sun is the source of light and heat. Heat is
considered the more important agency in the work
of vegetation.  It breaks the fetters of the frost in
the spring-time, and warms into life the germs of
plants, and sets the vital currents flowing through the
woody veins of trees. But light has also an important function.  All the beauties of vegetation are its
peculiar work. It arrays the flowers in their beauty,
and decks the leaves in their multitudinous tints of




48    Plain Thzoughts ona the Art of Livinzg.
green and gold. Moreover, it has an important part
to fulfil in stimulating the growth of plants. Look
at the sickly, etiolated sprouts that grow in your cellars, with plenty of warmth and air and nourishment, -all the requisites except light, — and you
will see how much light has to do in knitting fibres
and tissues, and giving health and beauty to vegetation.
All that light is to vegetation manners are to
social life. They give it much of its beauty and
gracefulness. Society would be a sombre barbarism
without them.  Moreover, there is no question that
they help the growth of genuine morality.
That is a grave social heresy which sneers at politeness as deceitfulness, and advocates the blunt
expression of all our feelings, no matter how uncharitable they may be. I have heard persons boast
of actions of this sort, after some such manner as
this:  "I did not like him, —I cannot tell why it
was, — but from the first moment that person filled
me with disgust; so I let him know just how I felt.
I was not going to treat him as if I had great love
for him, when I had no such feeling. There is very
little deceit about me. I always act out just what I
feel."  You have heard such vain boasting as this.
It sounds sincere and plain-hearted, but in truth it is
an ebullition of ill-nature.  First impressions are




acmnners.                  49
likely to be erroneous. The shrewdest observers of
human nature are often at fault in their first estimates
of character. And therefore we may do great injustice to excellent people by acting out these groundless
caprices.  Honesty and plain-heartedness are altogether inappropriate names to give to actions of this
nature. You might as well call a man plain-hearted
who flies into a passion and swears at you, or who
deals you a blow in your face with his fist. If it is
praiseworthy to act out all our feelings, then all those
who allow their passions loose rein, and are guilty of
all manner of crimes and excesses, are the models we
ought to imitate.  Such feelings must be restrained,
and good manners assist us in restraining them.
The laws of common politeness interpose a check to
these rude outbursts of our selfish nature.
When noxious weeds grow upon stony soil, where
it is difficult to plough them up by the roots, farmers cut them off with scythes before their seed-time.
After a few mowings they cease to sprout.  Manners do not strike at the roots of our vices, -indeed
it is pretty hard to get them out by the roots, -but
they are excellent helps in keeping the tops trimmed.
You perceive, young friends, that I have estimated
manners highly as a social power. Instead of deeming them an insignificant ornamental accompaniment
of life, I have ranked them with the moral forces.
3                            D




50    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
You will do well to observe all their reasonable requirements. There are few distinguishments of which
one may justly feel more proud than of good breeding. Let me venture to make a few practical suggestions. They are not copied from Chesterfield, nor
plagiarized from any young lady's behavior-book.
They are only the dictates of Christian common
sense.
The first rule of good manners is this, "'Thou
shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." This embraces
and epitomizes all the rest. I shall not have a word
to say upon this subject which cannot be referred to
this text as its fundamental principle. True politeness is nothing more nor less than the Christian rule
of life applied to all the minutiae of our social intercourse. John Witherspoon's definition is worth repeating and remembering. i" Politeness," said he,
"is real kindness, kindly expressed." Nothing but'this deserves the name. Examine the slightest act
of true politeness, and you will find this element of
kindness in it.!/ You offer another the seat you occupy; the politeness of the act consists only in its
kindness.  You bow  or uncover your head  upon
meeting an acquaintance in the street; the act is
polite, only because it is a generous acknowledgment
of the worth of the man or woman you salute. So
you will find in every act of the true gentleman traces




Mannzers.                  5 r
of good-will and  self-sacrifice.  "Be kindly affectioned one toward another, in honor preferring one
another."  So wrote the Apostle Paul, one of the
truest gentlemen that ever lived. No one in whose
heart there is not a joyful readiness to make little
sacrifices continually for the happiness of his associates will ever be the possessor of a true gentility.
In the second place, remember that good manners
are not for display, but for benevolent use. They are
not to be a means of showing ourselves off; they are
to be a means of showing kindness to others. Is
there not in some minds a misapprehension in regard
to this? Do you never see people who seem by all
their actions in society to say:'"Just look at me!
See what a magnificent bow I can make! Notice
how blandly I smile! Listen to the melody of my
laugh! Observe what warmth and cordiality I can
throw into the tones of my voice! Mark the gracefulness of my step and the dignity of my bearing!"
This is not good manners; it is snobbishness of the
most offensive sort.  Politeness is one thing, and a
very good thing; but the putting on of airs is anothei,
and a very disgusting thing. We are never to exhibit
ourselves; we are always to gratify and entertain
others. When one begins to display himself, other
people are sure to feel that his intention is to put
them in the shade. That is the intention. Whoever




5 2    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
seeks to make himself appear conspicuous has in his
heart a desire that those about him may appear insignificant. It is not hard to see that this ostentation
of politeness is exactly at variance with the golden
rule. He who loves his neighbor as himself has
none of this contemptible ambition to outshine his
neighbor.
In the third place, it is well to understand that
there is and can be no fixed standard of good manners. No dancing-master or professor of etiquette
can teach you a system of rules that will at all times
be fit and practicable. The reason is plain. Good
manners are not for yourselves, but for other people;
and therefore they must, in great measure, be determined by the people with whom you are associated
for the time being. You are to seek their happiness,
and of course you will do nothing which will offend
or annoy them. The tastes, the prejudices, and the
customs of people vary greatly in different societies;
and what would please one company would offend
another. In a Jewish synagogue or a Friends' meeting, it would be grossly impolite to uncov.er your
head. In a Christian assembly it would be just as
impolite for a gentleman to keep his head covered.
Circles of society that differ less than these have customs that are very dissimilar, and in these matters the
man of good breeding will always carefully conform




AIanners.                 5 3
to the customs of the people: with whom he is associating. He will not compromise any moral principle
for the sake of pleasing others; but in non-essentials
he will conform his conduct to their tastes and customs. When you are in Rome, you are not to do as
the Romans do, if they do wrong; but you are to do
as they do in mere matters of form and conventional
usage.
And yet there are not a few who early in life become possessors of a set of movements and gestures
and phrases, in which they are pronounced au fail by
masters of deportment, and who spend the remainder
of their days in showing them off. Wherever they
are, whether in a Fifth-Avenue saloon, or in a backwoodsman's cabin, they square their conduct by the
same rigid rules.
Here are two young ladies, who have always
moved in the same society in the city, and who are
equally well versed in all the requirements of etiquette. They are both regarded by their friends as
polite young ladies. They both pay visits to country
cousins. One of the young ladies carries her city
style with her into the country.  Her debut in the
farm-house produces a profound sensation. Her rural
relations stand aghast, as with all sails set she bears
down upon them; and they receive her well-meant
civility with an admiring shudder.  Through her




54. Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
whole visit she rides the lofty steed of metropolitan
ceremony. Every swain to whom she is introduced
is astonished and confounded, makes his Sunday
bow as well as he can, and hastens from her presence, to relieve himself of his embarrassment. The
consequence is, that the honest folk with whom she
is tarrying are in a state of perpetual perplexity and
uneasiness. They cannot imitate her, and they naturally feel that they are placed by her conduct in the
position of inferiors. They form unpleasant opinions
of city folks, and she in turn is disgusted with the
stupidity of country folks. They breathe more freely
when she takes her departure, and she carries with
her no grateful memories of her visit.
The other young lady drops the ceremonies to
which she is accustomed as soon as she leaves her
home, and is ready to adapt herself to circumstances
and people. When she arrives at her destination, she
greets her friends in an unaffected and hearty manner,
and immediately begins to observe their characters
and habits, that she may understand them and be
understood by them. She is careful not to put on
any airs which the country people cannot wear as
gracefully as she, and she studies to please them and
make her society agreeable to them. In short, it is
evident from all her conduct that she has come into
the country, not to astonish and outshine the country




Marnners.                 5 5
folks, but to put herself on a friendly footing with
them, and make them happy. There is sunshine in
the farm-house as long as she tarries; she goes away
with many regrets, and that visit is by her as well
as her country friends held in delightful remembrance.
Now these two young ladies, when judged by the
received standards of etiquette, would be deemed
equally genteel, but their test experience proved that
the one was well bred and the other was not. The
one remembered and the other forgot the two principles which we have been considering: that good
manners are not for show, but for service'; and that
in them we must conform ourselves, so far as we are
able, without immodesty or indecency, to the tastes
and the customs of those with whom we are associated.
In the fourth place, notice that self-consciousness
is one of the worst blemishes of deportment. The
person who is always impressed, in society, with the
idea that everybody is looking at him, is sure to be
awkward and ill-mannered. There can be neither
grace nor freedom in movements that originate in this
impression. You shall see many persons who by their
gait and manner when they enter a public assembly
revealEtheir suspicion that they are the centres of
observation. Some walk in timidly, as if they were




56    Plai'z Thoughts oi the Art of Living.
ashamed to be looked at; others, with a deprecatory
air, as if they considered themselves aggrieved by
being looked at; others, quite defiantly, as if they
did not care if they were looked at; and others still,
with a bearing of magnificent complacency, as if to
be looked at were the highest pleasure of their souls.
All this is very amusing to a spectator. And the
same phenomenon is seen everywhere in society.
It arises, of course, from an aggravated egoism.
Such people need to learn that they are of far less
consequence than they suppose. Trust me, good
friends,- for I know that some of those who are reading this paragraph are afflicted with this weakness,you are not looked at half so much as you imagine.
I dare say you may walk into church and not be
observed by half a dozen members of the congregation. You may step across a parlor almost any time
without attracting the notice of any considerable
number of its occupants. And if you could only
dismiss from your minds the absurd notion that you
are the cynosure of all eyes, you would not only find
more enjoyment in society, but you would appear to
better advantage. Do not suffer yourselves to think
of the appearance you are making; if you do, you
will always be awkward  and constrained.  Burns
wished we might always be able to see ourselves as
others see us. I don't know about that. Sometimes




Mannezrs.                 57
it would be of great advantage to us if we could forget that others see us.
In the fifth place, remember that those who are
beneath you have as good a right to your courtesy
as those who are above you. Kindness to the lowly
is one of the distinctive marks of good breeding.
If you have the right idea of gentility, you will not
disregard those who cannot thrust themselves into
your society. You will find a pleasure in showing
respect to those who are poor or uncultured or diffident. I think, young folks, that a loving courtesy
is one of the most valuable gifts we can bestow
upon the poor. Our charities might prove a curse
to them; but polite attentions shown them can be
nothing but a blessing. You cannot do a poor man
a greater service than by respecting him, and showing him that you respect him.  A cordial word, a
shake of the hand, a touch of the hat, — these cost
nothing, but to those who receive them they are
worth a vast amount.
The final suggestion is that you do not save your
good manners for the street or for society, but that
you let them beautify and bless your homes. ) A
thoughtful courtesy will never be wasted upon those
who dwell beneath the same roof.  Nowhere else
can such a revenue of joy and blessing be gathered
from true politeness. I do not mean that you should
3*




58   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
fall into stately, ceremonious ways at home (nor
abroad either, for that matter); I do not believe in
stiffness or formality in social intercourse anywhere;
but if we would be careful to show little kindnesses
at home when there is occasion for them, — and
such occasions are numberless, if we would learn
to deny ourselves in little things for the sake of
others, in honor preferring one another, we should
find the happiness of home greatly increased.  Besides, if such a kindly courtesy is the law of our
home life, it will not be difficult for us to obey it
when:we —are away from home. It will become as
natural as breathing.  We do not always think of
the importance of this thing.  We are too apt to
reserve our good manners for strangers, and thus
our intercourse with those who are dearest to us is
robbed of one of the charms that might hallow it.
I heard one day in a railway car this conversation:"1Who is that gentleman in the third seat?"
"'That is Mr. Jones."
"Is the lady with him his wife?"
"I think not."
" Have you ever seen Mrs. Jones?"
"No."
"Why then do you think this is not she?"
"Because he is rather more polite to her than
men are apt to be to their wives."




Manners.                  59
This sarcasm would not have been so keen but
for the truth with which it was edged. Let us heed
it. If courtesy brings grace and beauty with it, let
us find room for it at home.




V.
CONVERSATION.
THE great Mr. Carlyle, who used to pass for a
philosopher, insists that we talk too much.
Doubtless that is true of most people, and perhaps
it is not altogether untrue in these latter days of
Mr. Carlyle himself.  Words are something more
than wind, however, and conversation as a social
force must not be lightly esteemed. You remember
that, in one of Mr. Cooper's Revolutionary stories,
he introduces two characters who fall into an earnest debate upon the right of the American Colonies
to rebel. The parties are an officer in the king's
army, who stoutly denies that right, and an American
clergyman, who as stoutly affirms it. The discussion
is kept up until a late hour, and the combatants,
unwilling to give up the battle, agree to sleep upon
their arms.  The next morning, after the smoke of
the last night's controversy has cleared away, each
finds that he has been converted to the faith of the
other; "the British officer avows his intention of
throwing up his commission and joining the rebels,
and the American clergyman is convinced that it is




Conversation.               6I
his duty to apply for a chaplaincy in his Majesty's
service; and in these convictions they both continue
through the remainder of their lives. This is hardly
an exaggeration of the effect which is daily produced
in the modification of men's opinions through the
agency of conversation. In politics, in religion, in
the arts of life, opinions are oftener changed by
familiar talk than by formal speeches. He who can
talk wisely and well is qualified to exert great influence.
But conversation is not merely a useful art, it is
a fine art. No other accomplishment is to be compared with it.  No entertainment is so rich and
satisfying as that which is furnished in a circle oft
good talkers.  You know persons to whom it is a
delight to listen, their conversation is so full of
wisdom  and grace.  They are sought in society;
at the dinner-table where they sit there is ambrosial
food; and the fireside circles into which they are
drawn never find it hard to make the time pass
pleasantly. If, now, conversation is one of the most
potent and pervasive of the social forces, and one of
the finest of the arts, there is reason why we should
study it. We may be admonished by Mr. Carlyle to
talk less;" but let us qualify ourselves to talk well
when we do talk.
There are just two indispensable qualifications of




62   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
a good conversationist. They are very comprehensive qualifications, however.  The first is a good
mind.
This implies a vast amount. It implies, of course,
some natural ability; though the meanest capacities,
with proper culture, may reflect honor upon their
possessor.  The toughest and hardest wood takes
the finest polish, and it sometimes seems to be so
with mind. Graces and accomplishments which have
been wrought out by patience and painstaking are
beautiful and precious; while those which cost little
labor are often lightly esteemed.
Next to natural ability we find in a good mind
intelligence. A good mind is a well-stored mind.
Only out of the abundance of the mind the mouth
speaketh eloquently. One of the chief reasons why
good talkers are so few is found in the fact that
there are few who have anything to talk about.
This is the reason social gatherings are often so
dreary and unsociable. People have nothing to say.
This is the reason why talk often degenerates into
twaddle or is perverted to the bad purposes of gossip.
It is the lack of information, not the lack of natural
ability, which occasions the barrenness of conversation in many circles. It is painful in the extreme to
listen to the attempts of some excellent people to
"make talk," as they say.  The task of making




Conveirsation.             63
bricks without straw is recreation compared with the
drudgery of trying to talk when you have nothing to
say. But let two persons of large reading and observation meet, and although they are entire strangers,
they will soon find something to talk about. There
are a thousand subjects, outside of themselves, and
apart from their belongings, of which they have
knowledge; the hours pass quickly as they converse,
and when they meet again they will not be strangers.
I do not wish to be understood as asserting that none
but the school-learnt can talk interestingly, for I know
many persons whose opportunities of acquiring education have been very limited, who are never at a loss
for subjects of profitable conversation.  They are
diligent readers, busy thinkers, constant students of
nature and of men; I never talk with them without
finding all my thinking faculties aroused and stimulated; I always learn something from them, and am
always conscious that they are trying hard to learn
something from me.
A good mind is also a well-disciplined mind, - a
mind accustomed to reflect, to judge, and to choose
for itself. This insures an independence and a vigor
of expression, without which conversation is always
tame and profitless. It is not enough that your
memory is stored with facts; you must know what to
do with your facts; you must know what your facts




64   Plain T7zhoughts ou the Art of Livizig.
mean. What you want, in order to talk well, is a
well-furnished mind.  Now a room is not well furnished when the furniture, be it ever so abundant and
costly, is pitched into a heap in the middle of it;
neither is a mind well furnished when the knowledge
which it holds is loosely thrown into it, without order
or system.
Of course a well-disciplined mind will serve you in
other ways besides enabling you to talk well. It is
what you need in all the labors and studies of life.
It is a possession that can never lie fallow. In some
subsequent chapter I propose to speak of the methods of mental discipline. It is only important to this
discussion that you should consider it indispensable
to him who would excel in conversation. Get wisdom, then, and with all your gettings get understanding. If you would be good talkers you must not
only know something, you must also know what that
something means, and know how you know it.
The second general qualification of a good talker
is a good heart. This is even more comprehensive
than the other. It implies, first, good-humor. This
is a prime condition of good conversation. Indeed,
when good-humor takes leave, conversation immediately ceases to be conversation and becomes dispute
in a more or less aggravated form. Write this little
precept in capital letters in your memory: WHEN




Conversation.              65
YOU BEGIN TO LOSE YOUR TEMPER, STOP TALKING.
But something more is demanded than good temper,
-the absence of variance. There must be a vein
of cheerfulness always. Good-humor is to conversation what motion is to a brook, — it gives sparkle
and vivacity; without it we soon have stagnation.
I have noticed in society that moody and sourminded persons are always avoided, no matter how
splendid may be their abilities, while those who are
always bubbling over with mirth never fail of delighted listeners.
Charitableness is another quality of the good heart.
The good conversationist is one who listens with respect and tolerance to all that others have to say,
and who never judges them harshly because they
happen to differ from him. And not only does he
treat the opinions of others with charity, -he judges
their lives in the same way. He thinks no evil of
his neighbor, and therefore, of course, he speaks noevil concerning him. That is to say, he avoids all
gossip and everything that resembles gossip.  He
never descends to that dirty level, and if he can help
it, he never associates with people who do.
A virtue closely akin to charitableness is candor.
All conversation is worse than vain, if those who converse are not willing to know the truth, even though
the truth may conflict with opinions which they hold.
E




66   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
When two persons talk simply to vanquish each other
in argument, - not caring so much to know the truth
of the matter about which they are talking as to gain
the victory in debate, or to defend opinions which
they have expressed,- their conversation will result
in no good whatever. When you find yourselves in
company with persons whose talk all seems to be
stimulated by the feeling, "I've said it, and I'11 stick
to it, right or wrong," you had better draw the interview to a close as soon as possible. In your conversation, let every one see that you have no opinions so
dear that you will not surrender them at the demand
of truth.
Sympathy is another of the moral requisites of
good conversation. This is one of the good talker's
choicest gifts. He is able to put himself immediately
on an equal footing with those to whom he is talking;
he enters into their thought and feeling as completely
as he can; he studies their mental habits and acquirements, if he does not know them by intuition, that he
may know what subjects would most interest them,
and he is careful to introduce no themes that would
be tedious or disagreeable to them. I know of no
grace which is more to be coveted in society than this
sympathetic friendliness by which one can immediately throw himself into the feeling of those to whom
he speaks, establishing between himself and them
relations of equality and fraternity.




Conversation.               67
Earnestness is another of the qualities of the good
heart. The opposite of this is that trifling spirit so
prevalent at the present day. I suppose that Paul
the Apostle meant this when he wrote of "foolish
talking and jesting, which are not convenient."
Many of us, I dare say, have found them quite inconvenient, when, in the exercise of what wits we
possessed, we have been utterly unable to determine
whether individuals meant exactly what they said or
exactly the opposite. I do not stickle for mathematical accuracy of expression, at all times; I only object
to the constant habit of trifling into which some young
persons fall. An occasional ripple may not be objectionable, but when there are nothing but rapids,
we know that the stream  is shallow. We demand
some depth and tranquillity in conversation. Our
best entertainment and our clearest profit are always
found in conversing with those whom we know to be
thoroughly in earnest, whose words we can receive
without being constantly on our guard against irony
or double-en/enedre.
Sincerity is a distinguishing quality of the good
talker. The opposite of this is a worse fault/ than
the last. It is the sin of deceit or dishonesty, unconscious or deliberate. The other fault arises from
an undue playfulness; this arises from an undue love
of applause. You meet not a few in society who




68    Plzin Thoughts on the Art of Living.
habitually deceive you by assenting to all you say,
whether they believe it or not; by taking pains to talk
in unison with you, though they go directly athwart
their own convictions. You are not long in finding
out such people, and when you have once discovered
what manner of spirit they are of, you derive no more
satisfaction from conversation with them. Be not like
unto them.  Be perfectly sincere in all your talk.
Profess nothing which you do not feel. Assent to
nothing which you do not believe. If dissent would
violate hospitality or cause you unavailing trouble,
you may sometimes be silent; but never think to
gain the regard of others by hiding or falsifying your
own convictions.
Modesty is another of the traits which adorn the
good talker. Egotism is insufferable in conversation.
And yet how many are the ways in which it comes out
in common talk. Men who in public places conduct
themselves with dignity and modesty are sometimes
unbearably egotistic in private conversation. There
are many distinguished personages whom you have
never met, whose personal acquaintance you had better not form, if you wish to preserve your exalted
opinion of them. If you should hear them talk,
you would soon be disenchanted. Their self-conceit
would be so disgusting to you, that you would never
care to see or hear them again. But though self-con



Conzversation.              69
ceit is a common vice of great men, it does not appear necessary that a man should be great in order
that he may think highly of himself.  Some very
small men whom I have known have been great
egotists. Egotism crops out everywhere in conversation. There is the individual whose talk is all
about himself,- his wonderful experiences,- his
matchless gifts and possessions, - his peculiar tastes
and notions, — his distinguished  friends.  Change
the topic of conversation as often as you will, he will
always return, after a brief digression, to the original
mutton. You can neither coax him off nor choke
him off. So long as he talks, he will talk about himself, and when he ceases to talk about. himself, his
tongue will cleave to the roof of his mouth. You
know this individual. Do you like to talk with him?
He has a neighbor who resembles him, in the manner
of his conversation. This one is always ready to
match every fact you state, no matter how interesting
or remarkable, with another fact considerably more
interesting and remarkable, connected with his life
and history. Is he an agreeable companion? There
is another, who entertains you with a minute account
of his ailments. Of all the egotists the valetudinarian is the worst. Persons who "enjoy poor health,"
and find all their comfort in talking about it, are to be
treated kindly, of course, poor creatures! but they




70    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
are not exactly the kind of people one likes to spend
a social evening with. Then there is another troublesome kind of egotist, - the individual who talks all
the time, - turning the conversation into a harangue,
which he delivers to a circle of uneasy listeners.
You remember the story of Madame de Stael, who,
upon being introduced to a deaf and dumb man,
talked to him for an hour or more with her accustomed fluency, not even noticing that he did not
reply; and afterward said to the friend who introduced him, "Who was that gentleman? I thought
him a remarkably agreeable person."  Such monologues may be pardoned to Madame de Stael, in consideration of her wonderful gifts of extemporaneous
speech; but it will hardly be safe for any of us to
esteem ourselves so much wiser than our associates
that we can claim the right of talking all the while,
leaving them only the responsibility of listening.
Please remember this, young people, that conversation implies, on the part of all who engage in it,
both talking and listening. In all good conversation,
each individual has as much listenin  as talkin  to
do* and the good conversationist is one who can not
only talk well, but also listen well. I know some
eloquent listeners, who show by all their conduct that
they are paying the strictest and most respectful attention to every word that is spoken to them; and I




Conversationz.              71
know others who never hear anything that is said to
them, —who deliver their own remarks, and then,
if they give way for reply, the vacant expression of
their eyes, and their absent, abstracted manner, give
evidence that instead of listening to you they are
thinking what they shall say next.  Now  all this
arises from excessive self-conceit..It grows out of
the supposition on their part that it is all important
that you should hear what they have to say, but that
what you have to say is not of the slightest consequence to them nor to anybody else.
Charron has truly said: " In company it is a great
fault to be more forward in setting one's self off than
to learn the worth and be truly acquainted with the
abilities of other men.  Especially must those who
are really gifted in conversation remember this truth;
for he who eclipses others owes them great civilities,
and, whatever a mistaken vanity may tell us, it is better to please in conversation than to shine in it."
To be a good talker, we have seen, one must have
a good mind and a good heart. The good heart,
while it is by far the more important of the two qualifications, is the one more likely to be disregarded.
The conversational gifts which men most covet are
the gifts of fluency and brilliancy and wit. Such
qualities as sincerity and charity and candor arid
earnestness and modesty they forget to cultivate.




72   Plain Thozughts olz the Art of Livinzg.
And yet, without these fluency is a curse and brilliancy an igzaisfahtus, and the arrows of wit are poisoned arrows.
I remember now the words of One whose conversations (for he never made speeches) have been the
most precious legacy of the world for many centuries:
"How can ye, being evil, speak good things; for out
of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.
A good man out of the good treasure of his heart
bringeth forth good things, and an evil man out of
the evil treasure bringeth forth evil things." Here
we come to the root of the matter. If you  would
talk well, you must live well.  Learn of this great
Master how to live,! and your utterances, like his, in
some smaller measure, shall have authority with men;
and they shall wonder at the gracious words they hear
you speak. So shall society be pervaded and quickened by your influence, and you shall find at last,
treasured upon the luminous pages of the book of
remembrance, many words fitly spoken, - apples of
gold in pictures of silver.




VI.
HABITS.
it LET all thy ways be established," said a certain
wise man. It seems a tame and prosaic injunction; but there is poetry in it, if we only know
what it means.
Some words are pictures. The moment you hear
them spoken, your imagination presents to you the
figures or scenes which they describe. They convey
truth to the logical faculties, not directly, but through
the media of the poetical faculties.  For instance, if
I speak of Christian duty, you can only grasp at a
dry abstraction; but if I speak of the Christian race,
you immediately conceive of an arena, with crowds
of spectators on either side, and the racers with
bodies bent forward and eyes intent, all speeding
toward the goal. There are many words in our language which were once employed in a figurative way,
but which are now perfectly literal. Tribulation is
one of these.  When you hear the word now, you
never have any conception of its original meaning.
You only think of trouble or sorrow in its most general signification.  But a few hundred years ago if
4




74   Plair Thoughts on the Art of Living.
one used that word, it conveyed a definite image to
the minds of those who heard him. For the tribulum
was a flail, and a tribulation was nothing more nor
less than a thrashing. The tendency of language is
toward literalization. In the early days of language,
nearly every word is a picture; but every-day use
takes the poetry out of words as well as men.
One word in the wise man's command has passed
through this process. "Way" is that word. Originally it signified, of course, a road, a highway. Then
it came to be used as a metaphor in describing moral
states. Time was when if you spoke of a person's
way of living, you would suggest to those who heard
you the picture of a well-beaten path, upon which a
man was plodding along. But now you never think
of it as a metaphor. It has become one of the most
matter-of-fact words in the language. It means only
a confirmed manner or method. This man, we say,
has a way of walking, -that one a way of speaking, -
another one a way of finding fault with everybody.
In this sense "way" and "habit" are synonymous;
and it is in this sense that the wise man uses the
word.
We may easily see the significance of the metaphor.
Habits are ways along which our thoughts or our feelings or our practices have travelled so frequently that
they.are smooth and well-trodden.  Habits are to the




Habits.                   75
mind what the iron track is to the locomotive, -not
the power which drives it, not the machinery of which
it is constructed, - but the means by which its course
is directed, and its progress toward good or evil is
facilitated. The most offensive sights, the most loathsome thoughts, the most revolting deeds, through'frequent and long-continued familiarity with them,
lose all their disgustfulness, and become at last positively pleasurable. That which is in the beginning
difficult to perform, habit in the end makes easy.
The pianist, in his first lesson, stumbles awkwardly
over the keys of the piano; every movement of every
one of his fingers requires painful attention; his
hands have not yet learned to obey simultaneously
the slightest whisper of his will; they exhibit a
troublesome proclivity to follow each other; and,
like the blind leading the blind, they often fall into
a ditch of discord; and the poor unfledged musician
thinks that if he -ever reaches that happy advancement at which he shall be able to make his right
hand go up the key-board while his left hand is going
down, it will be a proud day of his life; but after a
few months of diligent practice, those very hands of
his, which it caused him so much trouble to manage
at the outset, will themselves discourse melodiously
when he sits down to the piano, leaving his mind free
to wander over all the earth.  He has found the way
at last.




76   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
Good habits are not easily formed, but bad habits
do not require much cultivation. They seem to grow
spontaneously. Like weeds, the only thing required
to insure a plentiful crop of them, is negligence. I
doubt whether any of you are entirely free from bad
habits. Some of you may not be addicted to any
vicious practices, but you have certain " ways" which
are blemishes upon your deportment, if not upon
your character. To these you have become habituated by processes so easy that you are not, nor were
you ever, conscious of them. Have you not sometimes been surprised and mortified on being told of
some such habit into which you had insensibly fallen?
You would not believe it at first, but when you set
a watch upon your conduct, you found it was true.
How strange it is that these faculties of ours will get
us into so many difficulties while consciousness is
napping! There was a man in my native town who
always prefaced every reply in conversation with an
ejaculatory grunt, which I can hardly spell, but for
which " Hunh!" will stand as well as anything.
One day a neighbor said to him,
"Townsend, what makes you always say'Hunh'
before you answer a question?"
" Hunh, I don't, do I? " said Townsend.
A certain eminent Scotch minister, now living, has
a disagreeable way of shrugging his shoulders while




Habits.                  77
preaching. This minister has a colleague who has
learned the bad habit of his senior. One day the junior had been preaching, and the senior, as he was leaving the church, remarked to an American gentleman
with him, "Mr. Blank preaches well, but I do wish he
could correct that bad habit of shrugging his shoulders." Likely enough, young friends, you have unconsciously acquired some such habits, which, though not
immoral, are exceedingly disagreeable; and you may
even have criticised in others faults to which you
yourselves are addicted.
Bad habits are easily formed, but not easily broken.
Augustine said that "habit, if not resisted soon, becomes necessity." Not in the strictest sense of the
word does it ever become necessity, but to human
eyes it sometimes seems to be little less than that.
I suppose there never was an individual so firmly held
under the power of evil habit that he could not if he
would, by God's grace, release himself from it. I do
not suppose there ever was a drunkard so utterly debauched and degraded, that he could not with Divine
help reform himself; but I have seen many whom I
felt perfectly certain no power on earth or in heaven
ever would arrest in their career of misery. Do you
not every day see strong men wrestling with habits
which seem to be too mighty for them, -now and
then getting the mastery for a time, but soon yielding




78   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
to the power which has so long enthralled them? "A
brave man battling with the storms of fate " is an inspiring sight; but a slave to habit trying to break his
fetters is a sight one cannot look upon without heartsickness. The probabilities of defeat are so many
that it makes one tremble.
But you say: "A habit is only a constant repetition
of certain acts. I see no reason why the repetition
cannot at any time be arrested. If I am a drunkard,
all I have to do is to drink the last glass and stop
there. That will be the end of it. If I am a profane
swearer, it is only necessary that I should resolve never again to take the name of God in vain, and then
keep my resolution.  The whole matter is plainly
within my power." Yes: so you might reason that a
bar of steel is only a row or a number of rows of separate particles, therefore it must require very little
strength to break it. The attraction of cohesion which
binds these particles so firmly together is weak compared with the force of habit.
Young people who form bad habits often go from
bad to worse with terrible rapidity. No young man
under the dominion of a vicious habit is aware of the
fearful velocity with which he is sinking from honor and
integrity toward shame and ruin. If you drop a stone
from the top of a precipice, it will not merely fall twice
as far in two seconds as in one, but four times as far;




Habits.                   79
in three seconds nine times as far as in one, and so on.
That is the law of falling bodies, and the law of falling
souls is very like it.
If these evil habits attack us so insidiously, hold us
so firmly, and carry us so swiftly toward ruin, we ought
to be on our guard against them. They are not to be
trifled with. You might as safely choose tigers and
panthers for your playmates. It seems to me that habits do somehow belong to the feline race. They toy
and dally with a man as a cat plays with a mouse.
They toss him hither and thither, and he rather likes
the sport. They handle him with fur mittens, and he
professes not to believe in claws. Sometimes they
even permit him to escape for a little distance, and
though they pounce upon him again before he is
beyond their reach, he makes no desperate effort to
release himself; he deems himself safe enough. He
feels sharp twinges of pain, now and then, but does
not heed them much, until at length, after the charm
of the demon is complete, after his courage and
self-respect are all gone, he starts to find himself in
the jaws of the destroyer.
Most of those who have given advice to young people with reference to habits have concerned themselves
chiefly about bad habits; and so much has been said
about them that very little is left for me to say. I turn
therefore quite willingly to the other side of the ques



80    Plain Tozug/zts oiz the Art of Livizg.
tion, and fill the rest of the chapter with a few plain
considerations concerning good habits.  The mere
avoidance of bad habits will not promote the growth of
good ones. You may keep the nettles and the pig-weed
out of your garden by vigorous work, but that will not
insure you an. abundance of fruits and vegetables. On
the other hand, every gardener knows that the best
way to keep out the weeds is to plant good seed and
cultivate it diligently. Therefore I wish to insist especially on the importance of forming good habits.
Virtue of the negative sort is a very questionable commodity. I have known young people whose bad habits were few, but whose character I did not particularly
admire. They did not lie, nor swear, nor drink rum,
nor break the Sabbath, nor do anything else in particular.  They prided themselves upon their superior
morality, but I never supposed that leaving undone
the things which the law has forbidden was the whole
of morality. Christ has epitomized the law, and what
is his reading of it? Is it a prohibition? Nay, verily!
but an explicit and positive command.  Not "thou
shadt not love the world and the flesh and the Devil,"
but "thou shatd love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart and thy neighbor as thyself."  I think there are
few classes of people more detestable than those donothings who manage to steer clear of the interdicts,
but pay no heed to the inspiring exhortations of Christianity.




Habits.                   8i
A certain man had a son, and he said unto him:
"Son, go work to-day in my vineyard. " At evening
the father inquired: "Son, how many vines hast thou
drest to-day?"  And the son replied: "None, father;
I have been sleeping under the sycamore-tree; but I
have not climbed over the hedge once to-day!"  This
little parable illustrates the kind of morality, — I fear
I must say the kind of Christianity, -with which some
people are well satisfied. But I tell you, young people, such morality and such Christianity are hardly
worth coveting. If simply to obey the prohibitions
of the law is the whole duty of man, sticks and stones
are far better Christians than you can possibly be,
for they never tell falsehoods, nor steal, nor drink rum,
nor break the Sabbath. And if you have no higher
aspiration than to get to the heaven where the sticks
and stones go, I am sorry for you.
Good habits are just as efficient in helping one to
live a life of virtue as bad habits are in accelerating
his ruin. They are not so easily formed as bad habits;
but being formed, they hold one strongly in the right
path, and powerfully help him forward. Labor which
is difficult at first, habit makes  as,  self-denials
which in the first instance seem  pai ful, become to
those who persevere in them sources of the highest
pleasure; deeds of love which in the beginning are foreign to our nature, in the end flow spontaneously from
4.*                          F




82   Plain ThoughIs on the Art of Living.
our hearts. " Never did any soul do good but it came
readier to do the same again with more enjoyment.
Never was any love or gratitude or bounty practised
but with increasing joy which made the practiser still
more in love with the fair act. "
Punctuality is one virtue which ought to become
habitual with every one of you. It is more a matter
of habit than many of you think. That this is true
is evident from the fact that some persons are always
punctual, no matter what their hindrances may be,
while others are always tardy, no matter how strong
may be the reasons for punctuality, nor how easy it
may be for them to be punctual. I know some sextons who have never yet been known to ring the
church-bell at the appointed hour.  They are uniformly from five to twenty minutes behind time. I
know others who have never been known to fail in
this matter. Some church-goers in every congregation are always a little late. Others are always in
their seats before the service comnfences. The person who has formed this habit of punctuality rarely
finds it difficult to be punctual. The one who has
formed the habit of dilatoriness is always delayed by
one imaginary hindrance or another. Circumstances
always conspire to help the man who makes promptness a principle of action, and to hinder the man who
acts upon the opposite principle. And if-you' only




Habits.                  83
knew how much of mischief, irritation, and disappointment are saved by punctuality, and how much
time and energy are wasted for the want of it, I am
sure you would make it a point to be punctual.
The habit of observation is a good one. A thousand phenomena, curious and beautiful, in nature and
in human nature, present themselves daily to your
vision. Try to see some of them.  The world is
stored with knowledge, and any man who will keep
his eyes open as he goes along may be wise; but
thousands pass through the world without knowing
anything. " Eyes have they, but they see not." The
habit of observing closely the facts you witness will
be of incalculable service to you.  Facts are the
raw material of philosophy, and the mind that has
acquired the thirst for knowledge finds as much
pleasure in gathering facts as the miser does in
heaping up his gold, and vastly more of profit.
You ought to form habits of study. Some of you
have completed your school-days, and have entered
upon the active duties of life. Let me counsel you
never to cease to be students. Never let a week go by
without a serious and persevering effort to increase
your store of useful knowledge. In your school-days
there were some sciences in which you were especially
interested. Do not let this interest abate. Stimulate
it by constant study. Always have some subject for




84   Plaiz Thzozughts on the Art of Livinzg.
investigation before your minds, to which a portion of
your leisure shall be devoted. If you have been clas.
sical students, do not allow your Greek and Latin to
get rusty. A page now and then of Horace or of
Memorabilia will be an excellent tonic for your minds.
If you have been lovers of the physical sciences or
of mathematics or of philosophy or of history or of
the fine arts, feed the flame of this enthusiasm. Make
it a habit to devote some portion of your time to these
pursuits of culture.
I know some of you will say that you can find no
time for these things. I say, you can. If you have
one thousandth part of the determination and perseverance in this matter that Elihu Burritt or Abraham
Lincoln had, you will find time nearly every day to
give to study.  Your circumstances can hardly be
more unfavorable to such pursuits than theirs were,
and you know what they achieved. But if you would
accomplish anything, it is quite essential that you
should crystallize all your studious impulses into a
studious habit.  Spasms of studiousness amount to
nothing. You must make it as much the rule of your
life as eating or sleeping. If you do, it will become
as much a necessity of your life as eating or sleeping.
Habits of benevolence should be formed in youth.
I do not wonder that there are so many niggardly
souls in the world, when I read the advice which is




Habits.                  85
most commonly given to young folks upon setting out
in life. "Be sparing"; "Be prudent," "Lay up something against a rainy day"; "A penny saved is as
good as a penny earned," - these maxims, and such as
these, are about all the instructions which young persons-receive concerning the use of money. Doubtless
frugality is one of the cardinal virtues, and I do not
complain that it has been enjoined upon you; I only
complain that most people teach you nothing else.
And while society is constituted as it is at present,
while all sorts of baits and bribes are held out to
stimulate your natural acquisitiveness, I do not think
it especially needful that I should exhort you to any
more greediness in the getting, or any more closeness
in the keeping of money. Something might, however,
be said concerning the benevolent use of it. I hope
you will form the habit of doing good with your money, be it much or little. You will have opportunities
enough. Wherever you live, the destitute and the
friendless will be in your neighborhood. Quite literal are those words of the Master, " The poor have
ye always with you." And these poor who dwell
beside your very doors are the ones for whom you
are especially bound to care. Generally speaking, it
is no charity to give money to straggling beggars; in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred they are impostors,
and the harm you will do by encouraging them in




86   Plain Thouzghts onZ the Art of Living.
vagrancy will more than counterbalance the good you
might do to some worthy person who chanced to be
among them. All the charities you have to bestow
will be needed by those whom you know to be
worthy.
Public as well as private charities have a claim upon you. Great enterprises of humanity, which must
depend for their support upon generous-hearted people, will constantly appeal to you. Not unfrequently
you will be invited to assist by contributions movements which relate to the general culture and intelligence of the communities in which you reside. And
greater than all is the great cause of Christianity,the maintenance and the spread of Christian institutions in this land and all lands, — this will call
for your aid. Now my advice is that you make it a
habit to assist all such worthy causes.  Be careful
as you will not to bestow your charities upon unworthy objects (and some care will be needed in
this); but when objects are presented concerning
which you have no doubt, count it a good-fortune
that you are able to contribute to them.
If habits of benevolence are not formed in early
life, the probabilities are strong that they never will
be formed. If you do not begin to give when your
means are small, you will not give when they grow
larger.  With the increase of Wealth the desire of




Habits.                   87
wealth increases; grasping grows easier and giving
grows harder as men grow ~older. Some young persons lay large plans for benevolence when their fortunes are acquired; until then they propose to give
as little as possible.  Now in this fair calculation
there are two mischievous mistakes.  In the first
place, they may never live to accumulate the fortunes out of which they are building their air castles.
In that case they will be found to have been unfaithful stewards of what they had.  Christian principle
calls for the consecration of our possessions, -not
of our anticipations; and it will be a poor excuse to
offer at the end for selfish lives that we had formed
large plans of giving away in charity money that we
hoped to possess some time or other. In the second
place, if these persons live and succeed in getting
the wealth they are working for, they will by that
time have the habit of keeping so fixed upon them
that they cannot, or at least will not, break it off.
The great majority of all the close-fisted rich men
began life with resolutions to be liberal when they
became rich; but the benevolent impulses of their
nature, from being held in check so many years, were
completely paralyzed; while the acquisitive faculties
were growing stronger all the time, and at length
became the dominant force in their characters. You
have seen some of these people, who make gain




88    Plain Thoughts on the Art of Livinzg.
their god, and worship it with a degrading devotion.
I think you do not admire their characters. I think
you would shudder at the thought that at some time
you might be like them. There is only one way in
which you can escape this doom, and that is by
making it as much your habit to give as to get, so
that giving and getting shall go hand in hand through
all your lives.  Thus your benevolent impulses will
be trained and developed equally with your acquisitive faculties; and you will find in your charities
greater pleasure than in your gains; for "it is more
blessed to give than to receive."
My last suggestion is that you turn your religious
inclinations and impulses into habits. The habit of
church-going is a good one. I trust you will never
relinquish it. The young man whose custom it is to
attend church every Sabbath-day is tolerably certain
not to be led into crime nor to follow vicious practices. As a safeguard, this habit is worth everything, -to say nothing of the good influences which
surround one in the house of God.  And in this
matter of church-going, you are hardly aware, perhaps, how much depends upon habit. If you are in
the habit of going, it is easy and delightful to go;
you feel restless and discontented if you are compelled to stay away; but quite a little resolution is
often needed to re-form the habit when it has once
been broken -off.




Habits.                  89
Some of you are trying to live the religious life.
You have discovered that there can be no steady
religious growth, no consistent Christian living, without habits of devotion and service.  It is just as
necessary to your religious life and health that you
should have regular times of prayer and reflection,
and regular methods of Christian labor, as it is to
your physical life and health that you should have
regular times of eating and resting and working.
And now, before I take leave of you, I want to know
how many of you pray habitually. Of course those
who are professors of religion have such a habit, - I
do not speak to them, - but there are some among
you who have never made a profession of religion, to
whom I want to put this question. Do you still remember, young men and women, those simple petitions your mother taught you in your childhood, -
those precious little prayers that so many prattling
lips have murmured, - do you still remember them,
and do you yet repeat them? I hope you do. You
need not be ashamed of them. One of the greatest
statesmen of this nation (John Quincy Adams) - he
whom the people called "the old man eloquent "declared, not long before he died, that he had never
closed his eyes in slumber without repeating the little
prayer he learned at his mother's knee,- -"Now
I lay me down to sleep." It is not a weak or un



go   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
manly thing to pray, young friends. Need any one
be ashamed of bowing every day before the great
Majesty of the universe, to acknowledge his authority and ask his blessing? Need any one be ashamed
of seeking for a few moments, every day, audience
and communion with the dear Father of us all, whose
eye watches us, whose power defends us, whose lovingkindness crowns us every day? Strange indeed would
be such shame as that! I do not counsel you merely
to hold fast the simple forms of prayer which you
learned in your childhood, but, holding fast the forms,
let not the spirit depart. Reverently, every day, on
bended knee, confess your sin and your weakness,
and your need of help to live aright, and the blessing
of God, falling silently as the dews at eventide, shall
descend upon you, bringing strength and joy and rest
unto your souls.




VII.
HEALTH AND PHYSICAL CULTURE.
E seem to be entering upon another age of
brawn. Boating and base-ball  two sports
that require the greatest amount of physical skill,
agility, and endurance —are the most popular of all
the pastimes for young men. Even the young women
have caught the fever, and are giving unwonted attention to out-door amusements. Much time that has
heretofore been dawdled away with the tatting-hook
is better spent upon the skating-pond; the crochetneedle has been superseded by the croquet mallet.
All these are hopeful symptoms. They indicate a
healthy reaction from  a bad condition. Too little
attention has been paid to physical culture; our
sports have mainly been of the quiet and sedentary
sort; and many classes of our people have been
strangers far too long to fresh air and vigorous exercise. There is danger, however, that this reaction
will go too far. If brain has been cultivated heretofore at the expense of brawn, there is some reason to
fear that in some quarters brawn will henceforth be
cultivated at the expense of brain.  They say that




92    Plain Thoughts ol the Art of Living.
those fine fellows who pulled so lustily the other day
in the boat-race at Worcester showed in their faces
that their intellectual development had hardly kept
pace with their physical development.  The greatest
athletes of this generation are not the greatest philosophers, if I am rightly informed. The champion
boxers and boat-racers are far from being giants in
intellect. Indeed, it seems that the highest physical
development is only attained by the neglect of the
mind and the heart.  The face of a man who has
been trained for muscular feats is likely to be as
stupid and expressionless as the face of a fat steer.
If you adopt the theory that man is only an animal,
and cultivate that part of his nature exclusively, you
can develop a splendid animal, but that which you
destroy will be worth far more than that which you
develop. I do not doubt that sound physical health,
and a good degree of strength and endurance, are
perfectly compatible with the highest mental development; but I say that the training through which the
boat-racers and prize-fighters are compelled to go, in
order that they may be able to perform their superhuman feats of prowess and endurance, is a training
that will surely, in every case, impair the mind and
destroy the finer sensibilities.
"Tell me, Chawls," said one young swell to another, "how you contrive to tie such a beautiful knot
in your cravat."




Health alzd Physical Culture.        93
"Why, you see, Augustus," responds Chawls, "I
give my whole mind to it."
Exactly. If you would be a perfect Brummell, you
must do as Brummell did, — give your whole life to
dress; stand before the looking-glass the larger part
of the -time, and rumple several scores of immaculate
cravats every day in repeated efforts to tie the perfect
knot. The highest perfection in this art is only attained by devoting all your thoughts and energies to
it. You may be able to dress tastefully and becomingly enough for all practical purposes, by expending
much less time and effort upon your raiment; but
you cannot expect to rival the fops in their own
chosen department, unless you put yourself through
the same course of training in which they are exercising themselves.
The Japanese acrobats, who have recently been
performing their marvellous feats of balancing and
tumbling, for the amusement of the nation, have
shown what can be done in that direction; and some
of you might, perhaps, be able to reach the same
proficiency in the gymnastic art; but to this end it
would be necessary for you to deny yourselves all
other kinds of culture, and make this the business
of your lives. In short, you cannot make prodigies
of yourselves in any one particular, without making
fools of yourselves in many other particulars.




94    Plain Thotughts on the Art of Living.
It is often necessary for scientific men to choose
specialties, as Agassiz has done. The field of knowledge and investigation is so large, that the explorer
cannot travel over every part of it.  He therefore
chooses some one department of study, and devotes
his life to that. But the pursuit of one branch of
study to the neglect of other branches is a very different thing from the development of one part of the
nature to the neglect of the rest.  Because of the
shortness of life and the preciousness of knowledge,
we may approve the devotion of the scientific explorer. Though he has but a single aim, it is a noble
one, and we bid him God speed in the pursuit of it..Besides, he is not a man who despises breadth of
culture.  Though his life is given mainly to one
study, he does not neglect opportunities that come
to him of increasing his knowledge of other matters.
He is constantly hungering for other truth besides
this of which he is in search; and though he may
feel that he cannot go far out of the path he has
marked out for himself, to glean in other fields, yet
whatever conmes within his reach he greedily appropriates. I suppose such a man as Agassiz must feel,
at times, that the life he has chosen for himself is a
life of painful self-denial. Other paths of study, in
which he knows he could find abundant pleasure,
stand invitingly open, and he cannot refuse to enter




Health and Physical Cultzure.      95
them without some pangs of regret. Still, we all
know that the culture of Agassiz is not all in one
direction. He finds time to think of the wants of
his body, of the needs of his heart, of the claims
of society, and to give to each a portion in due
season. No one part of his nature is cultivated at
the expense of the rest; he only chooses that his
intellectual work shall be done mainly upon a certain
branch of natural history.  The pugilists and the
gymnasts we were talking about are able to excel
because they give the whole of their time and energy
to bodily culture, -neglecting the culture of the
mind and the heart. That, we can all see, is very
different in principle from the choices which are made
by such men as Agassiz.
However, it may be that the pugilists and the acrobats are of some use in society. So far as they are
themselves concerned, their lives are miserable failures. We are all pretty well convinced, when we see
them, that they have by no means reached the chief
end of man; but God often makes the folly of man,
as well as the wrath of man, to praise him; and
these men are made to serve as examples and as
warnings.  Examples they are of the perfection to
which the human body is capable of being brought,
and warnings to all men that such perfection cannot
be reached without paying for it vastly more than




96   Plain Thozugts oA the Art of Livzing.
it is worth. I trust, young folks, that Providence
does not need any of you for such purposes of illustration.
My theory is, that the development of the human
nature ought to be as nearly as possible a symmetrical development. The body ought not to be cultivated at the expense of the mind, nor the mind at
the expense of the body. There ought to be muscle
enough to execute the mental decrees, and mind
enough to control and guide toward wise ends the
muscular forces. And not only should the balance
be kept between the physical and intellectual parts
of the nature, but all the faculties should be harmoniously developed. If one part of the building
goes up much faster than the rest, there is danger
that it may topple over; if all the parts go up simultaneously, they join to support each other.
By many of you this energetic protest against
an abnormal development of muscularity will not
be needed. While most of you are sufficiently interested in those sports which demand physical
strength and agility, very few  of you, perhaps,
give so much thought as you should to bodily
health and culture.  Now, although I may be a
little less enthusiastic than some of the amateur
oarsmen in regard to the development of muscle, I
wish to insist, with all earnestness, upon the duty




Health and Physical Culture.        97
of caring for health. And yet I have a presentiment
that all the ink I shed on this topic will be wasted.
Young folks, within my observation, are shockingly
careless of their health, and resolutely sceptical with
regard to all the advice which is given them on the
subject by their elders.  They are so sound and
hearty, so full of blood and vigor, that the suggestion
of ill-health seems to them positively absurd. I
know how it is with you, young folks, for I have been
where you are, and it was not very long ago, either.
When people lectured me about my carelessness, I
used to laugh at them. The idea that I should permanently injure my health by the trifling imprudences
of which they complained, was a good joke, -it was
really. They had better keep their hygienic prescriptions for the old grannies, -I had no need of them!
So if work was pressing, I could keep right at it,
night and day, only stopping long enough for a hasty
meal, occasionally, and sleeping not more than ten
hours in six days. I had no fear that excitement, or
overwork, or irregular habits, or unwholesome diet
would ever seriously affect me. Not until the mischief had been done could I see that there was the
slightest cause for apprehension. And though I am
not an invalid now, by any means, yet every day I am
fettered and limited in work and enjoyment by those
early mistakes, and I know that they have shortened
5                          G




98    Plain Thozughts on the A rt of Living.
my life at least ten years! Not by vice or dissipation, but simply by imprudence, - by disobedience
of the simplest laws of health; by careless feeding
and loss of rest, by cramming the neglected work
of a week into a day and a night, -by such foolish
courses, against which I was well warned by good
friends, has this result been reached. Many of you
are following in the same courses to-day, and I have
very little hope that anything I can say will convince
you of their danger. You are determined to learn
by experience. Well, experience is a pretty thorough
teacher. The only misfortune is, that her most valuable lessons are not learned till it is too late to profit
by them.
I shall not attempt to give you any specific directions with regard to the care of your health. You
already know vastly more than you practise.  But I
think you might get some useful hints from the prizefighters and the oarsmen. You have heard of the
carefulness with which their habits of eating and exercise are regulated. They do not confine themselves
to a bran diet, by any means. They partake freely
of nutritious animal food; but all condiments and
pastes and rich delicacies they entirely eschew.
They have found by experience that the physical system cannot be kept in perfect health if it is fed with
the greasy and spicy compounds of which we are so




Health and Physical CulitM         99
fond. I wish you would get the bill of fare which the
Ward brothers adopt while they are in training, and
examine it. You might not feel bound to restrict yourselves quite so closely as they do, but you would get
some valuable notions in regard to wholesome food.
Not only are they careful in regard to their diet,
but they observe the utmost regularity in their exercise and their rest. Every day, whether it rain or
shine, they must have so many hours of muscular
work; every night they must have so many hours of
undisturbed sleep.  By a strict adherence to this
rigid regimen, they bring their bodies into such a
splendid condition that they can pull six miles in less
than forty minutes, with hardly the quickening of a
pulse or the shortening of a breath.  "Every man
that striveth for the mastery," says Paul, "is temperate in all things."  It is no new discovery that
these athletes of the present day have made. The
same laws of bodily culture were known and observed in the old days of the Olympic races.
And if these men will do as much as this to secure
a corruptible crown, how much should we do to
secure an incorruptible! Merely to wear the championship belt of the boxer, or to carry the champion
flag of the oarsman, men will deny themselves injurious indulgences, and put themselves through
courses of careful training.  The end which they




1oo  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
choose is not the highest, but the means by which
they attain it are worth our study.  Something of
the same care and self-denial are necessary to prepare us for the most efficient performance of our
work, whatever it may be.
My observation leads me to believe that most of
those men whom the world recognizes as men of great
power have sound health and vigorous physical organizations. The instances are rare in which invalids or
men of feeble frames and weak nerves have made
much impression upon their fellows. I do not know
that I have ever heard a great orator who was not a
strong and hearty man. The two great pulpit orators
of the age - Mr. Beecher and Mr. Spurgeon - are
both stout, ruddy-faced, vigorous men. I have never
seen Mr. Spurgeon; but I never hear Mr. Beecher
speak without feeling that his excellent health, and
his great power of physical endurance, contribute
largely to his success. In all probability neither of
these great men would ever have been heard of as
orators beyond the bounds of their own parishes,
if they had not been endowed by nature with
good constitutions, and had not taken care of them.
The fluency of speech, the vividness of imagination,
the quickness of wit, the clearness of insight which
they possess, would have been barren gifts if they had
not been vitalized by an abundance of animal life.




Health and Physical Culture.       IoI
There is a magnetism in health and vigor which goes
far to make up for defects in oratory; and only when
you find rare intellectual gifts combined with splendid
physical powers do you find a great orator. Very few
persons except those who have tried it are aware how
severely public speaking taxes the physical strength.
Perhaps some of you have had the evil fortune at
some time to be very angry for a few moments. You
know that when the fit passed away, it left you as weary
as if you had done a hard day's work. Now the excitement under which the public speaker often finds himself is as intense as the excitement of anger, and the
weariness of bearing it is increased by the constant
endeavor to control it; while instead of lasting only
a few moments, like the fit of anger, it is protracted
perhaps for an hour or two. How great a draft it
makes upon the body you can imagine. It is true
that many public speakers are never greatly roused,
but no man who has not some excitability ever makes
much impression as an orator. And no man can bear
such stress and strain of passion as you often witness
in Beecher or in Gough, without a powerful frame,
strong nerves, and a perfect digestive apparatus.
What is true of oratory is true of every other work
and calling. The lawyer needs for his profession the
same bodily vigor. Instances innumerable will arise
in which the lack of nerve and physical stamina will




Io2  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
surely overthrow him. He cannot manage the witnesses, the juries, and the opposing counsel; above all,
he cannot control himself as he should, if he is not a
thoroughly healthy man. The surgeon whose stomach
is disordered, and whose nerves are not in prime condition, will never have the courage and confidence that
are required to operate successfully. The merchant
or the manufacturer who fails in health is far more
likely to fail in business. In short, young folks, it is
safe to say that, unless you have good vigorous health,
the chances are ten to one that you never will amount
to anything in any department of life. I presume you
all have some ambition to succeed in life. Remember then that the first'condition of success is a sound
body.
It is worth while to care for the body, not only
because of what it is able to do for us, but because of
what it is in itself. It is the most intricate and beautiful piece of mechanism in the world, and we have
no right to mar it by carelessness or to injure it by
neglect.  Just as I was writing this paragraph, a
paper was laid upon my table, in which I find these
words of Henry Ward Beecher:"I like to go past an engine-house and see those rude
sons of industry fondle and pet their engine. Sometimes I think it is their little god. How they rub it!
How they clean it! How they oil it! How they put




Health and Physical Culture.      I03
flowers upon it! Why, they know what it can do.
They are proud of it. They have seen it play. They
have seen how well it performs in the hour of danger.
It has stuff in it. It is a brave engine. They personify and give attributes to it. They love it. They talk
to it. And they rub the brass and clean the leather
and keep everything nice and all right about it."
And yet these very fellows, who show so high an appreciation of the excellence of their fire-engines, and
take so good care of them, often utterly neglect their
own bodies. They are more careful of the wood and
brass and leather of "the machine," than they are of
their own flesh and blood. If some enemy should
pour sulphuric acid into its bright cylinder, or gash the
suction hose with his jackknife, they would be ready
to fight. But they pour into their own stomachs fierce
and fiery liquor, and sever the sinews of their own
strength in midnight revelries. They are not an exceptional class. Very few indeed of the children of
men have any just regard for their own bodies. As
the truths of physiology are more widely known, and
the relations of the body and the spirit are better
understood, I trust there will be more attention to this
great matter. And yet physiology and psychology can
do no more than reiterate these solemn words of
inspiration -
"What! know ye not that your body is the temple




1 o4  Plain  Thoughts on the Art of Living.
of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of
God, and ye are not your own?"
"If any man defile the temple of God, him shall
God destroy, for the temple of God is holy, which
temple ye are."




VIII.
MIND CULTURE.
SOME of you are yet "under tutors and schoolmasters." What I have to say in this conversation is not intended chiefly for this class, but they are
welcome to any truth they may find in it. The only
advice I have to give young folks who are pursuing
courses of education is, that they make the most of
their advantages.  I am afraid, however, that the
counsel will strike them as not being strictly original.
But with many of you the school-days are past and
you never expect them to return. I am addressing
clerks, apprentices, young mechanics, factory operatives, shop-girls, -many classes of young persons,
the greater part of whom  have had the advantages
of the common school; some of whom, perhaps,
have gone higher, into the academy or the college,
but whose education is finished now so far as the
schoolmasters are concerned. Some of you had but
limited opportunities, and you are sorry that they
were not better. Some of you had plenty of opportunities, and you are sorry that you did not improve
them more diligently. Most of you are conscious of
5*




Io6   Plain Thoug/hts on the Art of Living.
deficiencies in respect of culture, and often wish that
you might possess a better education. But to very few
of you, I suspect, does it ever occur that a good education is yet within your reach. And yet such is the
fact. In this age of cheap books and libraries, there is
no need that any man or woman should lack a liberal
education. And I am going to show you, if I can,
how you can get it, and how much the getting of it
and the possession of it will be worth to you. I don't
know that there is any kind of knowledge of which the
monopoly is held by the schools and the schoolmasters. While it is true, on the one hand, that there is
no royal road to learning, it is equally true, on the
other hand, that there is no road to learning which is
not open to all classes. Of course the schools afford
facilities of education that are valuable, and the work
of acquiring knowledge is harder for those who are
obliged to study without these facilities, but it is not
so hard that it cannot be performed with signal success by any one who has a mind to undertake it.
In the study of the sciences, for instance, the apparatus which is found in the school-room is serviceable
to the student; but most of the school-books will tell
you how you may construct for yourselves apparatus
of a simple nature that will answer all practical purposes. What you cannot make you can purchase at
a trifling cost. And nothing is more certain than that




Mind Cu/luzere.            I07
the construction of this apparatus, and the experiments which you perform with it, will give you a clearer notion of the principles of the science which it is
intended to illustrate than you would be likely to get
in the best academy under the most skilful teachers.
What one works out with his own brains and hands he
knows thoroughly. What is shown him by somebody
else he does not half know. You might acquire the
principles of a science more quickly with a teacher;
but your understanding of them would be much less
clear and satisfactory than if you mastered them alone.
For the study of most of the natural sciences your
materials are ready to your hands. All you need is a
text-book to guide you in your investigations. The
facts which you are to study and classify are all about
you in nature. Botany, chemistry, zoology, mineralogy, natural philosophy, all relate to phenomena
which are before your eyes every day. All they attempt to do is to explain these phenomena, and to
refer them to certain natural laws. These sciences
open to you a most inviting field of study; they will
lead you into habits of research and of generalization; and thus will serve at the same time to furnish
and to train your minds.
In the study of the pure mathematics a teacher is
even less necessary than in the study of the natural
sciences. No student who wants to learn algebra or




Io8 PZdain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
geometry or the calculus can afford to have any help.
It is absolutely essential to the thoroughness of his
knowledge of these studies that he should go every
step of the way alone. Every problem that is solved,
every equation that is reduced, every theorem that is
demonstrated for him by somebody else, is a hindrance rather than a help to him. It is quite necessary in schools and colleges, where the majority of
students only study because they are compelled to
study, that there should be regular hours of recitation, regular tasks, and a teacher to assign them and
to judge whether they have been performed; but the
office of the teacher of mathematics is not to give
the student assistance in his work; it is only to
stimulate him in his work, and to hold him firmly to
his work, - asking questions instead of answering
them, and suggesting problems instead of resolving
them. Any student who is determined not merely to
get through his text-books, but to be a mathematician,
will repel any offer of help.  Mathematical knowledge can no more be acquired by proxy than food or
exercise can be taken by proxy. It is no disadvantage to you then, in the pursuit of this branch of
study, that you are compelled to dispense with a
teacher.'You may not get over the ground quite so
rapidly as they do in the colleges, but you will advance fast enough, if you are diligent.




Micnd Culture.            Iog
That languages can be acquired without the aid of
a teacher, is a truth of which we have many illustrations. Mr. Elihu Burritt, one of the most accomplished linguists of the age, is a self-taught scholar;
and he is only one of a large number who have made
great attainments in this direction without aid from
any quarter.  Some of you may know an eminent
divine who, while a poor mechanic, acquired so much
Latin and Greek that it has nearly swamped him in
his ministry. The great obstacle to his success has
been that he knows these languages too well. There
is no reason, then, why you should not make yourselves masters of the dead languages, if you have any
ambition in this direction. The modern languages
are easier to acquire, however; and I should counsel
you to give them the preference. And although, with
the aid of the excellent text-books which you can
procure, it is possible to learn any of these languages
without a teacher, yet for the sake of the pronunciation, it is better to study them with a teacher. And
this it will not be difficult for you to do if you desire
it. There is hardly a neighborhood in which some
person may not be found who is competent to give you
the assistance you need in these studies, and who will
be glad to hear an occasional recitation from you.
"But how shall we find the time for these studies?" you ask. Let us see. Some of you are me



i io   Plain Thoughts on the Ayt of Living.
chanics and mechanics' apprentices.  You work at
present ten hours a day, and are trying to have the
number of your working-hours reduced to eight. But
under the present arrangement fourteen hours out of
the twenty-four belong to you. Eight of these hours
should be sacred to sleep. If you are employed indoors, two hours at least should be spent in the fresh
air. And out of the four remaining hours I think
you can spare two every day for study. Some of you
are clerks, and though you are on duty more than ten
hours a day, there is much time in the course of every
week during which you are not occupied. If all the
time which you waste in absolute idleness — waiting
for customers and gossiping with your fellow-clerks
were spent in study, you might make great progress
in many branches of science. And there are very
few of you, I suspect, who might not by a wise economy of time save two or three hours out of the
twenty-four for study. Some of the young women to
whom I am talking spend as much time as this in
tinkering their back hair.  If they gave half as
much care to the inside of their heads as they give to
the outside, they would rapidly augment their store
of useful knowledge, and greatly increase their attractiveness in the eyes of all sensible young men.
"But suppose we study two hours a day, how much
can we accomplish in that way?"  Two hours a day




Mind Culture.              III
of faithful study, judiciously directed, will in ten years
give you a better, broader, more thorough education,
than nine tenths of the collegians have on the day of
their graduation. I don't mean that you will have
learned by that time everything knowable, but you
will have laid an excellent foundation, on which you
can continue to build through all your lives. Two
hours a day for six months devoted to the study of
chemistry will enable you, if you have ordinary brightness of intellect, to know more about that science
than nine tenths of the bachelors of arts know. My
observation leads me to believe that not one tenth of
the students in college give so much time as that to
chemistry. Of course you cannot in six months, with
two hours of daily study, learn so much about chemistry as Liebig or Draper knows; but you could get
a fair understanding of the principles of the science,
-enough to give you great satisfaction, and to enable
you to carry forward your future investigations with
intense relish. The same thing might be said of
other sciences.  Some of them require longer and
some of them shorter time to master their rudiments.  The process of acquiring a language is
a little slower. But I think that one year of faithful study, at the rate of two hours a day, with
some aid from a teacher, would qualify many of
you to read either French or German with considera



I I 2  Plain Thougkhts oit the Art of L ivinfg.
ble ease.  To learn to speak it well would take
longer.  Some persons acquire language much more
easily than others, but a young man or woman of
average power in this direction will readily accomplish what I have indicated.
If any of you are disposed to set about this work
in earnest, let me tell you one thing that it will be
useful for you to know. If you have not been in
the habit of study for some months or years, you will
find the beginning exceedingly hard. It will be difficult for you to fix your minds upon the subject in
hand, and all your mental operations will be sluggish
and painful. A kind of bewilderment will come over
you occasionally, and you will begin to wonder if your
mind has not lost the alertness and vigor which it
formerly possessed. But if you hold yourself steadily
to the work for a week or two, this dulness will pass
away, and you will come to your studies with zest.
Education consists of two things, — the acquisition
of knowledge, and the training of the mental faculties.
In the pursuit of the studies I have mentioned both
these objects are attained. But it happens that the
minds of human beings are not all alike. It seems
to me that minds may be divided into two classes, -
the logical and the intuitive. The line that separates
these two classes runs, with some deflections, between
the two sexes. There is a radical difference in the




Mind Culture.               I 13
methods by which men and women ordinarily reach
conclusions. Men rely more upon reasoning, women
more upon intuition. This is the general fact. There
are women whose minds are essentially logical, and
men whose minds are essentially intuitive, but they
are exceptions to the rule. Generally, a man takes up
a subject and goes from step to step in a consecutive
argument. He says if this is so, then that must be so;
and if that is so, the other thing necessarily follows;
hence the proposition is true. The woman looks
over the whole ground at a glance, and says, " I know
the proposition is true." And if you ask her how she
knows it, she will probably reply, "Because I do know
it."  We philosophizing and syllogizing mortals sometimes sneer at this kind of wisdom, but I am not sure
that it is not the highest kind of wisdom. Intuitions
are surer than deductions, if they come from a pure
mind and an uncorrupted heart.  One chief secret
of woman's influence is found in her moral intuitions
and the earnestness with which they inspire her.
The courses of study commonly marked out for
young men and women respectively have been such
as to develop those powers for which each sex is distinguished, to the neglect of those in which each is
deficient. Young men have been trained in classics,
mathematics, logic, and metaphysics; young women
have had but little training in these severer studies,
H




I 14 Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
and have given much more time to music and poetry
and painting. Now it is doubtless well that the culture of each sex should be so directed that the peculiar gifts of each should be healthily developed;
but a one-sided culture should be carefully guarded
against.  You can often see among educated men
the unfortunate results of a system of training which
has developed their logical faculties, to the neglect
of the intuitive and poetical faculties.  The worst
blunders and the fiercest quarrels of theology have
arisen from this source.  It has been the constant
effort of most of the theological thinkers to put God
and the universe into logical categories, to reduce
all religious truth to algebraic formulas, and in these
preposterous attempts their feelings have been soured
and the range of their vision has been narrowed.
Many of the most precious religious truths can only
be revealed to us through imagination or feeling;
the moment we attempt to imprison them in propositions, they elude us, and fly away to their native
heaven. By the study of a proposition in dogmatic
theology, you can often gain no better idea of the
truth which it aims to exhibit than you could gain
of a bird of paradise by studying, after the bird had
flown, the cage in which the hunter had tried to
entrap him. To be a good theologian, a man needs
something more than logical culture.  His insight.




Mind Culture.               II5
his imagination, his poetical faculties, all must be
cultivated, or he will miss more than half the meaning of the truths with which he is to deal. One object of a course of study should therefore be to
supply to each student that in which he is lacking,
and to train those faculties of his mind which are
feeblest. I should advise young women not to neglect mathematics and logic, and young men to cultivate their tastes for poetry and the fine arts.  It
will be well if you can ascertain in which of the two
classes mentioned your minds belong, and then you
can cultivate that part in which you are deficient.
What you are -to aim at is a balance of mind, a
symmetry and completeness of culture.
A large part of every good education is gained by
reading. In this age of cheap printing, it is the easiest
and simplest method of acquiring knowledge, and it
may be a most valuable means of mental discipline.
Not all reading has this effect, however. Many young
people, and some who are not so young, read nothing but exciting fictions. The result reached in their
cases is not mental discipline, but mental dissipation.
Of course none of those who belong to this class are
reading these homely thoughts; but there may be
some even among you who have fed so much upon the
highly spiced sensation novels of Miss Braddon and
Mrs. Southworth, and all that race, that you find the




I i6 Plain Thoughts onz the Art of Livinzg.
words of men who write for thinkers tame and tasteless. It may be that some of you read fictions only
for the sake of the story, skipping all the philosophy
and all the analysis of character, — everything which
does not help to unravel the plot. Nothing can be
more enervating to the mind than such a habit. If
you are conscious that you are in any danger whatever from this source, apply immediately the heroic
treatment. Eschew at once, and, if not forever, for
a long time, all sorts of fictions, and devote yourselves resolutely to solid reading.  You need not
choose books that are intrinsically stupid, for there is
no merit in dulness; take some good history, like
AMacaulay's History of England' or Motley's Dutch
Republic; or Guizot's History of Civilization; or
some such philosophical treatise as Hopkins's Moral
Science, or Mill's Essay on Government, or Ecce
Homo; and read it and ponder it till you understand it all.  Do not pass by a sentence till it is
clear to you; study a single page for a day or a week
or a month, if you cannot sooner grasp its meaning;
and thus you may be able to restore to your minds
the power which they are fast losing under the debilitating influence' of sensational fiction.  You may
say that you never had any taste for such reading as
this which I have indicated. If so, that is the very
reason why you should take it up. Such tastes are




HMiznd Culture.            I 17
not altogether natural to many persons. In a good
degree they are acquired.  And if you do not pmssess them, the best thing you can do is to acquire
them  speedily.  It will cost you some resolution,
some perseverance, some self-denial; but it will abundantly repay any reasonable outlay of these virtues.
Of the benefits of such a course of study as I have
recommended to you much might be said.  The
knowledge which you will thus gather, and the habits
of philosophic thought which you will thus form, will
be of constant service to you in the ordinary affairs
of life. A woman to whom the laws of natural science are familiar finds use for them in the duties of
her household.  She knows not only the rules by
which her culinary operations are performed, but the
principles upon which the rules are based; and thus
she is able to vary her processes as the conditions
vary. No small portion of the labor and the mortification of the housekeeper would be avoided if work
that is done by rote should be guided by reason. A
great painter once said, in answer to a question, that
he mixed his colors with brains. Bread mixed with
brains would be more certain to rise than that which
is compounded with ignorance.
An educated man will find his knowledge of mathematics, of science, even of language, of great practical service to him in any calling. And there is an




I I 8  Plain Thzoughts on the Art of Living.
advantage in bringing study and work together. The
uses and relations of knowledge are more apt to be
appreciated. Commonly a certain number of years
are devoted to study, and then study is laid aside and
work is taken up. The result is a practical divorce
between science and life, between education and
affairs. The knowledge which is gathered is never
used. But you who study while you are working will
be quick to perceive the application of any principle
or law you may discover to the labor you are performing. Thus you will not only fasten this principle
in your minds, but, by bringing it out of the realm
of abstractions into the realm of uses, you will perform a service for your kind.
But the benefits of study are not mainly material.
Your minds will be enlarged by it. It will enable
you to take juster and more comprehensive views of
life. It will expel from your minds many narrowing
prejudices. It will exalt and purify your ideas concerning the great Author of the universe.  It will
give you authority and influence among men.  It
will be an important aid to you in overcoming the
tyranny of worldliness.
The multitudes about you are engaged in an eager
and unceasing strife for worldly gain and advantage.
Riches, reputation, respectability, — these are the
three false gods of the bad trinity, before which all




Zfizd Czlture.              I 19
the people bow down and worship. However sceptical some may be upon other subjects, there are few
who do not pronounce this creed with a hearty sincerity. There is something appalling in the mad
persistence with which men are rushing after these
things. The great majority of people become infatuated with regard to them. All their views of life
are distorted.  There is no mental soundness in
them. Their ruling passions so completely get the
mastery of them, that they live as the fool liveth, -
spending all their strength for naught, and gathering
as the harvest of their lives nothing but things corruptible. You are about to enter the lists with these
mad votaries of material and worldly good. You
must follow their avocations, you must mingle in
their society, and there is danger that you will come
to adopt their views of life. And it seems to me that
such a studious habit and purpose as I have suggested may help to keep your minds in a healthier
condition.  If you are wont to devote a portion of
each day to the pursuit of useful knowledge, you will
in that way secure for your minds rest and relaxation
from the excitements and irritations of the worldly
life. The tendency of material pursuits is to belittle the mind; the tendency of intellectual pursuits
is to give it freedom and enlargement. The investigation of truth will lift you into a higher and purer




120  Plain Thosughts onz the Art of Living.
atmosphere than that which you breathe in the marts
and caucuses and saloons. Only the selfish propensities of your nature are cultivated in your worldly
life, while the study of truth is wholly an unselfish
pursuit, and in it the nobler parts of your nature
will find discipline and culture.  When you come
back to your daily toil and companionship, after such
communings with the truth, your selfish ambitions
will be chastened, your better impulses will be
strengthened.  No man or woman who has fixed
habits of study can become wholly a slave to worldliness in any of its forms.
"Take fast hold of instruction; let her not go;
keep her, for she is thy life."
"She shall give to thine head an ornament of
grace; a crown of glory shall she deliver unto
thee."
"Happy is the- man that findeth wisdom, and the
man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver,
and the gain thereof than fine gold."




IX.
SUCCESS.
O NE of the self-made men of the nation has
given us his motto, "Success is a duty."
The aphorism has truth in it, but it is not quite
original. It is only a paraphase of the old injunction, "So run that ye may obtain." The tent-maker
of Tarsus was not less wise in his generation than
the Bobbin Boy of Massachusetts.
In the old Grecian races there was only one prize
for the multitude of competitors.  Though all of
them ran well, all but one would go back to the
starting-point disappointed.  But in the races of life,
all who run well are crowned. There need be no
rivalry in these contests.  Men are matched, not
against men, but against difficulties and hindrances.
Whoever passes all these and reaches the goal, receives the palm  of victory.  Paul's injunction supposes this.  "So run that ye may obtain."  Ye may
all obtain.  The crown is within your reach.  Success is possible; therefore succeed.
I am aware that Paul uses this figure with reference to the Christian life, but it is quite pertinent
6




122  Plain Thoughts oni the Art of Livinzg.
to worldly as well as to spiritual things.  " So run
that ye may obtain," is as good advice for young
lawyers, young tradesmen, young mechanics, young
workers in any calling, as for young Christians.
"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do" (not only make
mighty efforts to do, but) "Do it," - accomplish it,
"with thy might."  Provision is not made in a
sound philosophy for failure, in any lawful undertaking. We are called upon not only to try to be
masters of our situations in life, but to be masters of
them. If the world be an oyster, according to the
proverb, our business is to open it, not to stand
haggling at it till it spoils.
Paul the Apostle not only preached this doctrine,
but practised it. One who reads his life attentively
will be led to believe that the fundamental conviction of his heart was that it was his duty to succeed.
We have no means of judging how good a mechanic
he was, but it would be safe to conjecture that he was
an excellent one. I presume that few of his shopmates could make better tents, or more in a week,
than Saul could. "Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily,"
is his counsel to laboring men; and it is natural to
suppose that in this less conspicuous work he was as
faithful and as successful as in his preaching of the
Gospel.
How good a lawyer he. was we have the best




Success.                12 3
means of knowing. The speeches and the letters he
has left us prove that he thoroughly understood that
profession. And when, in the days of his apostleship,
he was called before courts and councils to answer
charges made against him, the yells of execration and
the clouds of dust his enemies raised in reply to his
calm arguments out of the law showed plainly how
conclusive those arguments were.  He was stoned
down once, and whipped down eight times, but he
was never reasoned down.
No less energetic and thorough was he in his persecution of the Christians. Honestly believing as he
did that he was doing God service in exterminating
those hateful and blasphemous Nazarenes, he drove
them from city to city with a zeal so intense that it
was almost furious. Up to the time of his conversion
there lived in Jerusalem no more dangerous enemy
of the Christian Church.
Afterward, in his missionary labors, his indomitable
energy wrought still greater wonders. Obstacles vanished before him; enemies quailed and fled from his
path; perils, shipwrecks, scourgings, hunger, treachery, - all were insufficient to hinder him in the course
he had begun. Think of the work which this one
man accomplished! Almost every important city in
the East was shaken by his influence. He spent no
time in skirmishing with the detached forces of hea



124   PlZainZ Thoughts on the Art of Living.
thenism, nor in foraging through the solitudes.  He
carried the war into the walled cities, and boldly confronted the learning and the cunning of the wisest
men in the world.  Rome, Philippi, Athens, Corinth,
Thessalonica, Ephesus, - all the great centres of civilization, - were the scenes of his conflicts and his
triumphs.  Saying nothing about the nature of the
work he did, his success in it is marvellous.
It is altogether fitting that a man of such courage
and such achievements should give us this counsel,
"So run that ye may obtain." The words get more
than half their meaning from the man who stands
behind them.
This truth, like every other, is capable of perversion. It is our duty to succeed; but what is success?
That is a question which every young man should
fully settle in his own mind before he begins his lifework. The answer which he gives to it will be the
key to his future history. Let us bring the question to
the test of life. Here is a merchant about to retire
from business with several hundred thousand dollars..
The world calls him a successful man, and pays him
that insincere homage which is always given to success. But what is his history? Much of his wealth
has been obtained by rapacity and dishonesty; if not
by these, by cold selfishness and wanton disregard
of the.interests of other people. Poor seamstresses,




Success.                 125
plying the needle for him in solitary garrets, by the
light of dim  candles, far into the night, have been
stinted in their wages and oppressed by hard bargains, until they have been driven forth to lives of
infamy. The bounties this man has sometimes dealt
with liberal hand poorly atone for the extortions he
has practised all his life long. In short, you discover
that he has paved the way to prosperity with injustice
and selfishness. The injuries he has inflicted upon
others have recoiled  upon himself.  For even as
mercy is twice blessed, so heartless greed is twice
cursed. It curses its subject not less than its object.
All the better parts of the human nature are destroyed by such a life as this. What is a man good
for, when his tenderness and generosity and chivalry
are all gone?
Do you call such a man as this a successful man?
Most people do, but do you? If you do, you make
a terrible mistake.  Wealth gotten at the expense of
the finer feelings and nobler impulses of the nature
is not gain, but loss, - irreparable loss. Competence
built upon the basis of injustice and moral degradation is not success, but failure, - miserable, total failure! What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the
whole world and lose his own soul?
Here is a statesman who occupies a conspicuous
place among the counsellors of the people. With




:I26  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
rapid  strides advancing, he has attained political
power and prominence. His name is known, if it is
not loved, throughout the land, and the newspapers
trumpet his success. But he reached this eminence
by the tortuous and dangerous road of policy. His
record is the record of a wandering star. He has
learned to be all things to all men, not in the apos-:tolic, but in the hypocritic sense, that he may by all
means get office. He has watched the tide of public
sentiment, and has drifted with it, no matter whether
it set toward the headlands of justice or the depths
of iniquity; he has declaimed in one section to flatter
the popular vanity, and he has denounced in another,
to appease the popular prejudice; he has changed
front as often as a weathercock on a windy day, and
has made many an unsavory meal upon his own
words. By these means, and others more questionable, he has gained distinction and favor upon the
earth. Men call him a successful politician. What
do you call him?  I tell you that if ruin be not a
meaningless word, that man is ruined. If there is
any object this side the gates of hell more degraded
or more despicable than an unscrupulous politician,
I have yet to find it. If a man will sacrifice the
public good to his own lust for power, there is no
other crime that he will not commit, if opportunity
be offered.




Success.                 127
It is quite plain that the acquisition of wealth or
fame, or position in society, is not necessarily success,
in the best meaning of that word. When, by a life
of rectitude and benevolence, one gains any or all
of these possessions, you may well call him successful, but not if he acquires them by dishonesty or a
lack of manliness. The matter is very plain, young
men. You have either already entered upon your
life-work or you are about to enter upon it, and it is
your duty to succeed in it. If you are in trade, you
ought to acquire a competence; if you are in a profession, you ought to be an honor to it, - you ought
to gain a large reputation and a lucrative business;
if you are a mechanic, you ought to command the
highest wages and the best situations. These are
the prizes towards which you are pressing. So run
that you may obtain them. But bear in mind that
there is only one path that will lead you safely to
them. That is the straight road of Christian integrity.  If you run in any other way, it will be infinitely worse for you than if you had never started.
Your success would be like that of an army which
should capture a city infected with the plague, and
perish on thevery threshold of its victory. You may
be rich, renowned, powerful in the world; but what
are riches worth, when the pure gold of the heart is
turned to dross? What is the value of renown, when




128   Plain Thought/s on /hze Art of Living.
your name has never been spoken in the presence
of the angels of God? What can you do with power,
when your spirit is palsied and shorn of its strength?
But some of you are answering me after this fashion:  "That is good theory, but will it work?  Is
not this the language of enthusiasm rather than of
practical sense?  C'an a man succeed - that is the
question — upon such a basis of principle?  Is it
possible, in this world, with perfect honesty and
truthfulness, and by loving one's neighbor as one's
self, to gain wealth or eminence? Is it not necessary
to deviate from these strict rules occasionally, in order to succeed? We are assured that success is a
duty. Then we are commanded to seek it only by a
path which seems to lead us away from success. Is
not the alternative presented to us, - dishonesty or
failure?"
So they all say, young folks, - so they all say. You
will hear this cry every day on every street of every
town in the land: " It is utterly useless for me to try
to be perfectly honest and fair in my business; I cannot succeed if I do." I doubt not these opinions are
sincerely held by many persons. But I take the liberty of dissenting from them in toto. I believe that
success is nearer and surer by the way of honesty
than by any other way.  Indeed, by the ordinary
courses it does not seem to be very near nor very cer



Success.                 I29
tain. The commercial statistics tell us that ninetyeight out of every hundred men who embark in trade
fail at least once during their business life. The figures seem incredible, but if I am rightly informed
they are perfectly reliable. Now this does not speak
well for the present methods of commercial management. If the cheating and the overreaching which
they say are necessary to success will not do better
than this for men, I think it high time their expediency were called in question. I do not believe many
more than ninety-eight men in every hundred would
fail if all adopted the golden rule as their guide in
business. Do you?
To all this some tough old sinners will reply with
a sneer. " How knoweth this man all these things? "
they will demand. "Is he not venturing beyond his
depth? What does a parson know about trade?" I
will tell you, good my friends, one thing that I do
know, and that is, that God, and not the Devil, is the
deity who rules the universe. I know that God loves
integrity and benevolence; that he commands us all to
love them and to practise them; and I have no doubt
that he will take care of us if we do. I know that
it is safer in all respects to do exactly right and trust
the issue in his hands, than it is to follow the dictates
of dishonest expediency.  When a man adopts the
theory that unfair dealing is necessary to success, does
6*                           I




130  Plain Tzoughts on the Art of Living.
he not actually proclaim it to be his faith that the
Devil is greater than God? This is the creed of every
unprincipled man, reduced to its simplest terms.
Thousands who have never openly confessed it
show by their actions that they believe it. It is the
one grand heresy against which all good men must
combine to fight till it is exterminated. But I do not
build on simple theory in this matter. The facts are
on my side. If you go through the land, and pick
out the men who have been most successful in a material point of view, you will find that the great majority of them have adhered rigidly to the principles
of integrity in all their transactions.  There is no
need that I should mention the name of the most
successful merchant in the land. You all know who
he is. If I am rightly informed, his business has
always been conducted with perfect honesty.  His
salesmen are instructed to tell the exact truth with
regard to every article they sell; never to conceal its
defects, never to misrepresent its quality. Any disobedience of this order is followed by prompt dismissal from his employ. When the sharpers and tricksters of trade can point to a man who has built up a
colossal fortune like his by dishonesty, it will be time
for us to begin to pay some heed to their theories. I
know that men have sometimes acquired wealth by unfair means, but in the majority of cases they have lost




Sluccess.               131
it about as quickly as they gained it. It seems to be
hard to keep the spoils of dishonesty.
Neither is there any need that I should mention the
name of the most successful statesman of this age.
Is it not written upon all our hearts? And to what
must his success be attributed?  Why did the people
of every land love him so well and mourn him so tenderly? It was not because of his great intellect. For
although his mental endowments were of no mean
order, although his perceptions were clear and his
judgment was sound, there were many others in the
nation who were fully his equals in these respects
Neither was it because of his kindness of heart; for
though there have been few among our public men
whose hearts were freer of malice or fuller of charity
than his, yet these qualities would not have gained
him the reverence that the people so heartily paid
him. His rugged strength of mind, and his unaffected
tenderness of heart, were indeed among his prominent
characteristics; but we do not feel that these are the
differential faculties that singled him out from his
fellows and made our love for him so strong and our
sorrow for him so deep. The great secret of his success in life, and of the homage paid him at death, is
found in his unspotted integrity. This it was that carried this poor boy up through legislatures and courts
and congresses to the highest place in the nation. The




132   Plain Thoughts on tke Art of Living.
homely sobriquet of "Honest Abe" was a charm to
conjure with. The historian of the future who shall
explain the reason of Mr. Lincoln's repeated elevation
to office, and the meaning of the wonderful pageant
of mourning that filled the land at his death, will say
without hesitation that his sterling honesty was the
foundation of it all.
"Such was he; his work is done.
But while the races of mankind endure,
Let his great example stand
Colossal, seen of every land,
And keep the soldier firm, the statesman pure;
Till in all lands, and through all human story,
The path of duty is the way to glory."
When the political jugglers of the land can point
to one of their kind who has reached an eminence
as high as that upon which Lincoln stood and shall
stand forever, they will have a better excuse for their
folly than they have yet been able to show. For it is
folly of the most stupendous sort which these men of
the world boast as their wisdom. There is no greater
fool than the man who thinks he will be better off in
this world, in the long run, if he disregards principle.
All the forces of nature, all the irreversible laws of
society, are leagued to overthrow  him.  "The stars
in. their courses fought against Sisera." The Devil is
not God, young men, and will never be. And be-.




Success.                133
cause the Devil is not God, it is never expedient to do
wrong.
However, if the Devil were supreme, I hope you
would not worship him. There is not a particle of
doubt that honesty is the best policy; but if it were
not, it would be worth while to be honest. If you
are honest only because you believe it to be the best
policy, you are on a pretty low plane of virtue. I
have tried to show you that worldly and material success is more certain to be gained by those who do
right than by those who do wrong, because I believe
it to be a general fact of the Divine administration.
But; after all, these worldly and material successes are
of small value. It is your duty to succeed in your
calling, but it is not your first duty. The great business of life is to get for yourselves wisdom, grace,
and manliness. These are the highest prizes offered
you in the race of life. So run that ye may obtain
them.




X.
STEALING  AS A FINE ART.
pROPERTY is rightfully acquired in three ways,.
-by inheritance or gift, by production, and by
exchange.
I. Much of the property now in the world has
passed into the hands of those who now hold it by
inheritance or by gift.  A smaller proportion of the
wealth of this land than of most lands has beenr acquired by this means, and yet there is much here
descending from one generation to another.
2. Much wealth is also acquired by production.
Those who cultivate the soil, those who dig for the
precious minerals, those who search the seas for their
treasures, gain their possessions in this way.  And
with these are properly ranked all those who engage
in skilled labor of any kind. For though the artisan
does not add any malerial to the wealth of society,
as the farmer or the miner or the fisherman does, yet
he does give increased value to the material already
existing. The man who takes a pound of cotton and
makes of it four yards of calico is a producer as
really as the man who raised the cotton; the fabric
is a product of his skill.




Stealing as a Fin e Art.        135
In primitive society there is very little property that
is not acquired by production. The savage has few
articles of value save those which he needs for his
immediate use, and the larger part of these he obtains for himself. The maize which he cultivates, the
game he finds in the forests, and the fish he secures
in the streams, provide him with food; the skins of
the animals he kills in hunting serve him for clothing; his weapons and implements are fashioned by
his own hand from the sapling and the sharp-edged
stone. He has few possessions that he obtains in
any way from his fellow-savages. When he needs
anything, he asks Nature for it, and she gives it to
him.
3. But we cannot ascend the scale of civilization
very far before we find in practice another method
of procuring wealth. That is exchange. The farmer,
unlike the savage, cannot produce all he needs.  His
wants multiply as civilization advances. He therefore devotes himself to the cultivation of the soil,
and in order that he may procure clothing, implements, and articles of food which he desires, but which
he cannot produce upon his fagm, he gives in exchange for them  the products of his farm.  Thus
there is a division of labor among producers, by which
the work of production is facilitated and the aggregate production is increased.  But it soon becomes




136  Plain Tzhoughts on tie Art of Livinzg.
awkward for these producers themselves to effect
these exchanges.  Living far apart, much time is
consumed by carrying their products about and bartering them, and soon another class arises whose sole
business it is to carry on exchanges among producers,
leaving the latter free to devote themselves exclusively to the work of production. This is the origin
of the mercantile or trading class. The sole object
of this class is to effect exchanges among producers.
In prosecuting this work it becomes necessary that
there shall be a standard of value recognized by all
producers. There must be a convenient medium of
exchange, and thus money comes into use.
The higher is the civilization of any land or age,
the greater does this business of exchange become.
Not only does the mercantile class increase in number, but the principle of exchange pervades all society,
and its laws control all men. So pervasive is it that
political economy comes at last to be rightly defined
as the science of exchanges. Comparatively few persons in this land to-day are engaged in simple production. The farmers who do their own work, the miners
who are* digging ore for themselves, the artisans who
are carrying on small businesses with their own hands,
the fishermen who fish in their own boats and sell
their fish for their own benefit, may be called simply producers. But when the farmer employs others




Stealing as a Fine Art.          137
to do his work for him; when mining is done by a
stock company, and mechanical work by a manufacturing establishment, whether incorporated or not,
then the principle of exchange comes in.  In all
cases where there is a combination of capitalists and
laborers in the work of production the laws of exchange operate. The artisan or the day laborer exchanges his services with the employer for a portion
of his capital. It is thus easy to see that a large
proportion of the wealth of the land is acquired by
means of exchanges. The muscular strength of the
common laborer, the skilled labor of the artisan, the
business talent and experience of the overseer or the
agent or the salesman, the learning and tact of the
professional man, as well as the products of the land,
and the goods or wares of the mechanic, are all
thrown into the market to be exchanged for other
commodities or values, or for money, which is the
measure of all values.
Since, then, the business of exchange in its various
forms occupies so largely the energies of men, it is
well to study some of the fundamental principles
upon which it ought to be conducted. The moral
law of such transactions is simply this: Int every exchange each party oug/ti to give a fJir equivalent for
what he receives.
Now the fact is that many exchanges are made in




138   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
which on the one side no fair equivalent is given for
what is received. By presuming upon the ignorance
of purchasers, by adroit and plausible misrepresentations of their wares, by trickery and falsehood, traders often induce their customers to buy articles and
to pay for them in money or its equivalent much more
than they are worth.  Sometimes the purchaser is
deceived in regard to the quantity of the goods
he is buying.  Short yards and light pounds and
incomplete numbers are given him instead of
the full amount for which he bargains and pays.
These frauds in measuring and weighing are not
so often resorted to in retail houses as once they
were; the public is on its guard against such imposition; but many things sold in the original packages are far different from what they are represented
to be. Let me quote from an exhaustive essay by
Herbert Spencer on "The Morals of Trade:"Articles that are sold in small bundles, knots,
packets, or such forms as negative measurement at
the time of sale, are habitually deficient in quantity.
Silk laces called six quarters, or forty-four inches,
rarely measure four quarters, or thirty-six inches.
Tapes were originally sold in grosses containing
twelve knots of twelve yards each; but these twelveyard knots are now cut of all lengths, from  eight
yards down to five yards and even less, the usual




Stealing as a Fine Art.         139
length being six yards. In widths as well as lengths
this deception is practised. French cotton braid, for
instance (French only in name), is made of different widths, which are respectively marked, 5, 6, 9, II,
etc.; each figure indicating the number of threads
of cotton which the width includes, or rather should
include but does not. For those which should be
marked 5 are marked 7, and those which should be
marked 7 are marked 9; out of three samples from
different houses only one contained the alleged number of threads. Fringe, again, which is sold wrapped
on cards, will often be found two inches wide at the
end exposed to view, but will diminish to one inch at
the end next the card. These frauds are committed
unblushingly and as matters of business. We have
ourselves read in an agent's order-book the details
of an order specifying the actual lengths of which
the articles were to be cut, and the much greater
lengths to be marked on the labels. And we have
been told by a manufacturer, who was required to
make up tapes with lengths of fifteen yards and label
them as'warranted eighteen yards,' that when he
did not label them falsely his goods were sent back
to him, and that the greatest concession he could
obtain was to be allowed to' send them without
labels."
Still more frequently is the purchaser deceived in




I40  Plain Thozugts on t/ze Art of Living.
regard to the quality of the goods he is buying. Adulterations of all kinds are in the market, many of them
warranted to be pure and genuine. Goods that are
recommended to be of one material are often of another and much cheaper material.  Cotton is skilfully wrought into silk or woollen fabrics, and they are
sold for all wool or all silk; textile imitations of all
sorts are constructed and vended as the genuine
article. Packages of coffee marked pure old government Java contain from one to two thirds peas or
chicory; jewelry that is but thinly plated with gold
or silver is sold for solid metal; flour that was made
from foul and sprouted wheat is marked extra superfine; indeed, there is hardly an article in the markets
that is not adulterated or counterfeited, and then sold
for pure and genuine.  It is true that, with regard
to many of these things, the people have long since
ceased to believe the representations of the manufacturers and traders, and therefore the deceit ceases
to be of any great advantage to those who practise
it. But even if it were of no advantage to them, if
nobody were deceived by it, the morality of the
transaction would not be affected.  The intent is to
deceive, to take an unfair advantage, to make an exchange in which no proper equivalent is given. If
those who manufacture and vend these articles sell
them for just what they are, and not what they seem




Stealifng as a Fine Art.         I41
to be, no one can complain; sometimes by such processes a beautiful or a useful article can be furnished
at a smaller cost, and this is commendable; the sin
consists in representing them to be what they are not,
and thus influencing people to purchase them who
would not if they knew exactly what they were.
There are other methods of deception, which, though
less obvious, are not less common. Among them is
the practice of darkening the room where goods are
sold, that people may not be able to judge of their
quality.  "It is usual also," says Spencer, "purposely
to present samples of cloths, silks, &c., in such order
as to disqualify the perceptions.  As when tasting
different foods or wines the palate is disabled by tasting something more strongly flavored from appreciating the more delicate flavor of another thing afterwards taken, so with the other organs of sense,
a temporary disability follows an excessive stimulation. This holds not only with the eyes in judging
of colors, but also, we are told by one who has been
in the trade, it holds with the fingers in judging of
textures; and cunning salesmen are in the habit of
thus partially paralyzing the customer's perceptions,
and selling second-rate articles as first-rate ones." "A
still more subtle trick has been described to us by one
who himself made use of it when engaged in a wholesale house, - a trick so successful that he was often




142  Plain Thoughts on0 the Art of Living.
sent for to sell to customers who could be induced to
buy of none other of his assistants, and who ever
afterwards would buy only of him. His policy was
to seem extremely simple and honest, and during the
first few purchases to exhibit his honesty by pointing
out defects in the things he was selling, and then,
having gained the customer's confidence, he proceeded to pass off upon him inferior goods at superior prices."
With all these ruses and subterfuges there is no
small amount of square lying.  "Is this all wool?"
asks the customer. "Yes; all wool, every thread of
it," answers the salesman, knowing perfectly that
there are many threads of other material in it. And
there is an impression that this kind of falsehood is
venial. Men who would not be guilty of an untruth
in any other matter will often tell downright lies —
lies with circumstance — about the goods they are
selling, and have few, if any, qualms of conscience in
regard to it. A young man in a wholesale jewelry
store in New York was one day exhibiting to a customer an assortment of rings. "How fine are these?"
asked the buyer.  " Fourteen carats," replied the
young man. The rings were not purchased. After
the customer had gone, one of the proprietors approached the clerk, and angrily asked him why he
did not say the rings were sixteen carats fine. "Be



Stealing as a Fine Art.           143
cause they were only fourteen carats," was the reply.
"But you know that we always sell them for sixteen
carats," said the merchant.  "I did not know  it,"
replied the clerk, "and I will not do it for any man."
"Nonsense! " answered the jeweller, in a tone of injured innocence.  "You must n't be so scrupulous.
Such transactions are perfectly right, commercially
speaking."   And yet this merchant was, and is today, a deacon and a very active man in one of the
largest churches of Brooklyn. Such is a very general
impression among business men, that a thing which
would be utterly wrong in any other relation is right
"commercially speaking."   A  man who would not
lie for fame, for family, or for country, will yet lie for
sixpence, and have no trouble about the wrongfulness
of it.  Can anything more sadly illustrate the corruptions of traffic?
There is still another practice in vogue among
traders of which I desire to say a few words. It is
what is usually called, I think, "jockeying " in prices.
Instead of having a uniform price for the sale of their
articles, many tradesmen have a sliding scale of prices.
The thing is rarely sold for what is at first charged
for it.  If the customer complains of the price, or
seems indisposed to pay it, they let it down a little, -
sometimes let it down two or three times, till it is
finally sold at a much less figure than was originally




I44 - Plain Thoughts on the Art of Livinzg.
set upon it. I have known an article for which twelve
dollars was first charged to be sold for eight; and
sometimes even greater differences occur between the
asking and the selling price.  Of course, the salesman's object is to make the purchaser believe he is
getting the goods for less than they are really worth.
For surely he cannot desire the buyer to think that
he charges at first more than the goods are worth.
He must wish to convey the impression that the first
price is the fair price, and that the reduced price is
less than the real value of the goods.  This is, of
course, a species of deception. All intelligent people
know that, in the places where this practice is carried
to its extreme, goods are rarely sold for less than a
fair profit. The custom is to ask for goods more than
they are worth, that there may be room left for deduction.  Consequently many people are cheated;
for there are many who never stop to parley about
prices, but always pay the first price asked, if the
goods suit them.  By this system extortion is practised upon fair and honest customers to make up for
the smaller profits made from the mean ones.  Altogether it is a bad system and cannot be practised
without more or less deceit or trickery.
The fault does not, however, wholly lie with the
merchant.  If it were not for the eager desire of
the purchaser to get goods for less than they are




Stealizg as a Fine Art.          I45
worth, the merchant would have no temptation falsely
to profess to sell goods for less than they are worth.
The trader is often led by his cupidity to desire to
sell his goods for more than a reasonable profit; but
quite as often the buyer is led by his cupidity to
desire to buy the goods for less than a reasonable
price.  Neither party cares for equity; neither desires to give a fair equivalent for what he receives;
the determination of both is to get as much as possible, and to give as little as possible in return for it.
There is just as much selfishness on the one;side of
the counter as on the. other... I have known some
merchants who entered business with the firm determination to have an equitable and uniform tariff
of prices, but who were finally fairly badgered and
bullied by their customers into adopting practices
which in their souls they abhorred. How often you
witness such scenes as this: The customer comes in
and asks for an article.  It is shown him, and the
price is named.  He begins to disparage it, though
it is the very thing he wants, and he knows it. "Can't
you let me have it for a little less?" he whines, after
finding fault with it for a while. "I should think
you might throw off a little to a regular customer.
I buy all my goods of you." The merchant explains
politely that he makes no deviation in prices; and
yet the customer begs for a little reduction, just as
7                             J




I46 Plain Tahoughts on the Art of Livibzg.
a special favor to him. Failing in this attempt, he
moves away, expecting the merchant will call him
back, and offer him the goods at a lower price. If
that does not take place, he himself comes back part
way, and makes an offer a little under the price. If
this last move is not effectual, he will sometimes
take the article, grumbling, and will sometimes turn
away in anger, and, though he has been treated
with the utmost suavity, will tell among all his
friends what a surly, disobliging trader this merchant is, - simply because he could not persuade
him to descend to the dirty business of jockeying
in prices!
" How much is that sugar?" said a Hibernian one
day to a clerk.
" Seven cents a pound," was the reply. Of course
it was in the good old days of cheap groceries.
"I won't give ye eliven, but I'11 give ye tin," replied the Irishman.
"I only asked you seven," said the clerk.
"0, siven! WVell, I won't give ye siven, but I'11
give ye six," said the undismayed Celt.
I wonder how men can keep their patience under
all this parleying. Every merchant who attempts to
do business in a legitimate way must submit every day
to be -accused of extortion; for every request for reduction in price is in effect an accusation of extortion.




Stealing as a Fine Art.          I47
If the price is a fair and honest one, no man has any
right to ask him to reduce it, and he who makes such
a request either convicts himself of unfairness or accuses the merchant of dishonesty.
These immoralities of trade are not, then, to be
charged wholly upon the mercantile classes. All classes share with them  in the condemnation.  You see
manifestations of the same spirit everywhere.  Farmers, artisans, laborers, professional men, in their dealings with one another, manifest the same greediness
for gain, — a greediness that leads them  to practise
deceit and to speak false words for the sake of gain;
to get all they can, and give as little as possible in
exchange for it, without regard to equity.
Now, what is to be said in view of all these facts?
You all know that they are facts, and that the half has
not been told. It is quite plain that such transactions
as have been mentioned are violations of the Golden
Rule. The principle laid down at the outset, that no
exchange is right unless each party gives a fair equivalent for what he receives, is only the Golden Rule
applied to traffic. Every young man or woman who
professes to be guided by the precepts of Christianity
should therefore avoid all these unfair practices, and
everything that resembles them.
But perhaps some of those who are reading this
essay do not profess to be guided by the principles of




148  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Livinzg.
Christianity. They regard them as very beautiful and
excellent, but hardly practicable as yet. " To love one's
neighbor as one's self," they say, " is very fine in theory, but, come to put it in practice, it does n't work
well. One is compelled in this world to look out for
one's self, without much benevolent reference to one's
neighbor." Very well, then; if you do not accept
this precept, we will not judge you by it. But there is
another precept, the binding force of which you will
not, perhaps, deny. It is written in the fifteenth verse
of the twentieth chapter of Exodus,- and here it is:
"CTHOU SHALT NOT STEAL."
I suppose it is universally acknowledged that these
commands of the Decalogue have each an explicit and
an implicit meaning. For instance, Christ explains that
in the command "Thou shalt not kill " is involved the
prohibition of all anger and malice, as these are the
germs out of which murder always springs. So with
this command. Though it is explicitly levelled at robbery or theft, yet it implicitly condemns all interference with the rights of property, whether by force or
fraud.  Every man has a right to the undisturbed
possession of the property he has honestly acquired.
The state may take his property from him, but only as
a punishment for crime, or in its extremity, when the
good of the whole people may require it. No man
may take it from him without his consent. No man




Stealing as a Fine Art.         I49
may gain his consent by deceit or unfairness. RIe may
give away his property, but in trade he will not part
with it unless he supposes he is getting for it a fair
equivalent. To take it from him without his consent
is theft, punishable by common law; to gain his consent by deceit or suppression of the truth, by pretending to give an equivalent when none is given, is theft
also before the bar of eternal Justice, whatever earthly
tribunals may say about it.
Human law is compelled to make distinctions between acts that do not really differ in principle. This
is because men cannot discover with certainty the motives by which their fellows are actuated; they can
only judge definitely of their overt acts. Therefore,
with regard to the different methods of interference
with the rights of property, our laws make a distinction; but the law of God makes none whatever. That
law deals not only with overt acts, but also with intentions. And if, by misrepresentation or by suppression
of the truth in a bargain, you get money from a man
that you could not have obtained if you had told him
the truth, you are just as guilty of theft in God's sight
as if you had adroitly pilfered the money from his
till.
Suppose you come to me to purchase an article in
my possession, which is worth, as the market runs,
ten dollars.  If you knew exactly the character of




I50  Plain Tho ugh ts on the Art of Living.
the article, you would not give more than that for
it. But by plausible falsehoods I deceive you in
regard to its quality, and make you believe it is
much more valuable than it is, so that you pay me,
at length, fifteen dollars for it. Before the law of
God I am just as guilty of theft, in this transaction,
as if I had picked your pocket of five dollars in
money. Or suppose a different case. This article,
which is worth ten dollars, is an imitation of something else worth fifteen dollars.  So perfect is the
imitation, that you are deceived by it, and suppose it
to be the genuine article of which you are in search.
So when my price is demanded, and I tell you it is
fifteen dollars, you take it, and pay the price. Now,
though I may not have said one word in regard to
the quality of the article, yet I am just as guilty of
theft as in the other case. There was a lie upon the
face of the goods; you believed it, and by my silence I indorsed the lie, and encouraged you to believe it, to your detriment. And that is stealing.
Before the only just tribunal it bears no other name.
To take from another his property without giving
him a fair equivalent, whether you take it before his
face or behind his back, whether the artifice you
employ be secrecy or falsehood, is theft, and nothing
else, as they reckon moralities in heaven. I don't
think the man who gets his living by driving sharp




Stealing as a Fiine Art.      I5 I
bargains has any better reputation among the angels
than the burglar or the pickpocket.
"But this is not the common estimate," you say.
"Men do not generally regard such transactions as
very disreputable. No man is excluded from good
society on account of them.  It is not often supposed that any moral turpitude attaches to them."
Very likely not. And that is the reason why this
chapter has been written. The object of it is to
warn young men and women against accepting the
world's teaching on this subject. The wisdom of
this world is sadly at fault about many things, but
about no other subject does it weave such a web of
sophistries as about the subject of traffic. The demoralization of the public conscience in regard to
these matters is perfectly appalling. It is true that
there are in every community some men who are perfectly upright, — men who would never, for the sake
of gain, be guilty of the slightest departure from the
truth; but they are not in the majority. Undoiubtedly this is the crying evil of this land and this age.
Much is said about intemperance and unchastity and
oppression, but these are of far less magnitude than
this great evil of dishonesty, whose cancerous roots
run thickly through and through society. "The love
of money is the root of all evil." These words were
more than half a prophecy. They are far truer now




152  Plain Thoughts on t/e Art of Living.
than when Paul wrote them. By these twin evils of
covetousness and dishonesty more characters are tarnished, more hearts are hardened, more souls are
ruined to all eternity, than by all other iniquities
combined. And therefore I have spoken so plainly
to you, young folks, upon this subject. The plainness of the truth may have startled you; but the
more you reflect upon it, the more clearly you will
perceive that it is the truth.  Take, then, as your
standard of commercial rectitude, not the shifting
scale of popular usage, but the perfect law of God.
Keep this truth firmly fixed upon your minds, and
never lose sight of it in any of your business transactions,- that cheating is stealing; that with whatever
glosses or euphemisms men may cover up its deformity, at bottom it is nothing but the violation of the
eighth commandment. Don't be guilty~ of it, then,
young folks! Don't lie! don't steal! Starve first!
You can't die in a better cause.  Don't do it for
yourselves; don't do it for others!. If an employer
requires it of you, shake off the dust of your feet as
a testimony against him, and leave him forthwith.
The Lord will provide!
Remember that all the actions of our lives must
be traversed by and by before the bar of God. He
cannot be cheated. Before that august tribunal the
truth must all be told.




Stealing as a Fine Art.5 3
"There is no shuffling; there the action lies
In his true nature; and we ourselves compelled
Even to the very teeth and forehead of our faults
To give in evidence."
Keep that day in mind; and, though your revenues
of earthly gain be small, live so that you can answer
its dread questionings without dismay.




XI.
COMPANIONSHIP AND  SOCIETY.
OUR social relations are of two kinds, —voluntary
and necessary. We are perforce members of
society. The birthright of humanity we can neither
sell nor give away, nor can we absolve ourselves
from the obligations it brings with it. Society demands of every person the performance of certain
duties, and these duties cannot be neglected without
positive sin. Of these obligations of individuals to
society I will speak presently.
Besides these social relations into which men are
born, there are certain others which they voluntarily
assume. Almost every person gathers about himself
a circle of companions. With these he is brought
into more familiar relations than with the rest of his
neighbors. One has no right to disown any of his
brethren, nor to shut them out from his sympathy
and his kindly regards; but he is not bound to take
all the people whom he knows, and to whom he tries
to do good, into his confidence, nor to make of them
his close companions. These he may select for himself. In the social circle to which each person at



Comjpanionship and Society.        155
taches himself there will be a few persons who will
be especially dear to him. These, and these only,
will know of his inner life. With these he will share
many of his most sacred experiences; with their
souls his soul will be knit in fellowship.  I think
there can be no valid objection to this natural division of society. It is often complained of, however.
It is sometimes thought that in every neighborhood
there should be but one social circle, to which all
should be admitted on equal terms. But this is manifestly impossible. People will group themselves by
their tastes and affinities. I have no doubt they will
do so in heaven. There are a great many different
kinds of people in the world, and these kinds will
gravitate together inevitably. Congeniality of disposition, or identity of pursuit, will often be the principle of selection, and to such selection no one can
reasonably object.
There are, however, two evils connected with this
subdivision of society into smaller groups of which
we have a right to complain. The one is that the
principle of selection is sometimes wholly arbitrary.
Wealth, for instance, is made the condition of entrance
into some circles. No one is admitted who does
not possess a liberal share of this world's goods. The
objection to. this is not so much on behalf of those
who are left out as of those who are taken into such a




56  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
circle. There can be no real society, no communion
of the higher nature, where persons are linked together by such a bond as this. There will be diversity
and disharmony among them. They are united by
that which is exterior and conventional, not by that
which is interior and real. There is stimulus and satisfaction in companionship when your circle of companions has been drawn together by attractions and
affinities of soul; but there must be leanness and
starvation for all the better part of your nature in
associations of which the only bond is an equality of
outward possessions. Let us put this thing in plain
English, and hear the sound of it: "This man is my
friend."  "Why?"  "Because he has fifty thousand
dollars, and so have I."  "That man is not my
friend."  " Why not?"  "Because he has only one
thousand dollars." The sacred name of friendship is
profaned when it is used in connection with such
associations.
The other evil to which I referred is the spirit of
clannish exclusiveness which sometimes takes possession of these smaller circles. The attachment to them
becomes so strong in some cases, that those within
them have no interest in, and no care for, those who
are without. The claims of humanity, the calls of
public interest, the sweet reciprocities of neighborly
regard, are all forgotten in their blind partiality for




Compianionshi5 and Society.       157
their own particular set of friends. Care must be
taken lest this narrowing spirit gain entrance to the
circles in which our social life is spent. When these
two evils are avoided, — when these companies are
drawn together by congeniality of soul, rather than
by external ties, and when there is no such clannish
narrowness in them, —they are as healthful and right
as any other development of social life.
And if it is true that we need to join ourselves in
this manner to a select group of companions, in order
that we may get the greatest enjoyment and profit
from society, it is certainly true that we need to have
some intimate and confidential friends who shall stand
in still closer relations to us. Those who are trying to
develop the better life within them, who are struggling
against the evil, and cherishing high aspirations after
purity and nobleness, who are sometimes cast down
because of their failures to meet their ideals, and
sometimes full of rapturous exultation because of
some advantage gained or some mystery resolved, -
such as these need friends with whom they can share
their high experiences, from whom they can draw inspiration and assurance, in whom they can find some
answer to the yearning of their souls for sympathy.
The better a man is, the greater will be his need of
such companionship. But even those who have no
such exalted aims often feel the need of intimate




158  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
friendships. Almost all men have intimate friends.
And the rightfulness of such friendships will not be
questioned by any who remember that there was a
"beloved disciple," one of the twelve, who leaned
upon the breast of Jesus. If, then, these voluntary
social relationships are right and proper, let us study
the principles which should guide us in forming
them.
In the first place they ought to be entered into with
great caution. In the town where you have always
lived, and where the people are all familiarly known
to you, you are less liable to err in this matter; but
when you make for yourself a new home, be careful in
your selection of your companions. Often a young
person's status in society is irretrievably fixed in this
way. Upon his first entrance into a strange community he forms certain acquaintances that are pleasant
to him; and, without stopping to scrutinize the character of the persons, he makes friends of them, and
soon is seen in society with them. If now, as is sometimes the case, these are young persons of dubious
morality, he will be immediately classed with them,
and will be avoided by respectable people. "A man
is known by the company he keeps." So it becomes
much more difficult for him, if he discovers his
mistake, and tries to change his social relations, to
gain the confidence of good men and women. It has




Codnpaionship atzd Societ.        I59
often happened that young persons in such cases do
not discover their mistake until they are led into the
ways of their evil companions. You cannot be too
cautious in your choice of friends.
You ought to join yourself to a social circle the
moral character of which is above reproach, and the
intellectual status of which is at least up to your own
level. This may sometimes be difficult. You cannot
thrust yourself into any society. If you have not
enough of positiveness and personal magnetism to
draw about you such a set of companions as you desire to have (and there are few who can do this), you
must wait until your merits are recognized, and you
are invited into the good society which you desire to
enter. But, if you are not invited, wait patiently. If
you are worth anything to good society, good society
will find you out in due season, and open its doors to
you. If you have not the intelligence and the social
qualities which would fit you for a place in good society, set about acquiring them. But do not throw yourself into the society of those who are coarse and rude
because you can find no call to go up higher. Let
your associations be always such that you can find
improvement, refinement, moral culture, intellectual
stimulus in them. If you cannot have such, be content to have none at all. You always can have such
if you desire them, and make yourself worthy of them.




I6o  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
Not only is a man known by the company he keeps,
but he is sure to be assimilated in his character to
those with whom he closely companies. If they are
low, narrow, gross in their thought and feeling, he
will become like them. If they are highly cultured
and pure-hearted, he will be elevated in character by
his relation to them. It is of the utmost consequence, therefore, that we choose our companions
carefully, and refuse to be brought into near relations
with those who are mentally or morally unsound.
Sometimes young persons are brought, in the pursuit of their daily occupations, into familiar acquaintance
with many who are not profitable companions. Those
who labor in shops or mills, for instance, find themselves surrounded by all kinds of people; vicious and
unprincipled young men and women are in their company every day, and it becomes a very difficult question with them how to escape the contaminations of
such society. Great care is needed in such cases lest
you either offend these persons by coolness, or suffer
in your own character from too great familiarity with
them. You ought not to spurn them; you ought not
to have any fellowship with them. If they see that
you are always ready to treat them kindly, even to
make sacrifices in their behalf; that all that is good
and worthy in them you applaud and rejoice in; and
that you are ready to give them every encouragement




Cornpanionzshzip anzd Sociely.   I6i
and help within your power when they try to do right,
- you will have their respect, even though you do
not make companions of them. And this is what you
must learn to do in your intercourse with all such people. Treat them kindly, generously, tenderly; don't
stand apart in Pharisaic pride; and thank God before
their faces that you are not like them; don't turn black,
reproachful looks upon them when you meet them;
give them always a friendly word, and let them see
that the helping hand will be stretched out to them
the moment they are ready to grasp it; but while they
continue in their vice and corruption, don't take them
for your associates. Remember the Master, who was
reproached because he was the friend of publicans and
sinners, but whose chosen companions were always
among the pure and.the true-hearted.
It is sometimes inevitable that young people in their
work should be thrown into the company of those who
are vicious and corrupt. It is an inevitable misfortune,
in which, if we act discreetly, we ourselves may be
kept from harm, and may be able to do them good.
But we have no right to seek the society of such people, except as we go to them with the direct purpose
of trying to reform them. We cannot pray, " Lead us
not into temptation," with any great fervency, if we
rush into such temptations of our own free will. In
associations of young men for social purposes or for
K




I62  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
the practice of athletic sports, the bad element often
predominates. There are fire-companies, and baseball clubs, and boat-clubs, and other such associations, which are largely composed of dissipated and
vicious young men. I suppose there can be no doubt
that young men who care anything for their characters must keep out of all such companies. No matter
how laudable the purpose may be for which they
are formed, if a large proportion of the members are
corrupt, you had better stay outside if you are outside,
and if you are in you had better get out as soon as
possible. In your work you cannot always avoid bad
company; in your pastimes and social enjoyments you
can and must. Persons are brought much nearer together by play than by work, and thus the contaminations of vice are more easily communicated. Young
men of good character sometimes think that by belonging to such organizations they may be able to
restrain and control those who are viciously disposed.
In the great majority of cases, however, the good are
defiled much faster than the bad are purified. When
one chooses such a set of companions and puts himself
under their influence, he loses the vantage-ground
from which he could resist their evil doing; he almost
disarms himself of the right of protest against their
iniquity. He is not only among them, but of them;
the character of the company attaches to him, and he




Companionshi)z and Society.      I63
must wear it. One cannot easily stop a swift torrent
by flinging himself upon it. The chances are that, instead of turning the stream backward, he will go down
with the stream. Never join yourselves with any company of young people in which vice of any kind is tolerated. Never belong to any club or other organization
in which things are constantly done that must be
covered up or apologized for.
There are social gathering-places open to young
men in every large town where they meet a mixed
company.  The public billiard-rooms, the bar-rooms
of the public houses, and other lounging-places, invite a
promiscuous crowd, some of whom are respectable people, others foul-mouthed and corrupt at heart.  But
in every public resort, unless it is vigorously guarded
by Christian influences, the bad portion of the company will always be the more positive and demonstrative
portion. The oath, the coarse jest, the indecent story,
will be boldly uttered, while sentiments of purity and
Christian truth will be spoken, if at all, in a bashful
and apologetic manner. Decent people will be there,
but that which is best in them will be covered up;
indecent people will be there, and that which is worst
in them will be openly paraded. You recognize that
as a fair account of the moral status of most of these
places where promiscuous companies congregate. Purity and high morality hardly ever hold up their heads




I64  Plain Thozughts on the Art of Living.
in such company. Of course the influence of such
society is demoralizing in the extreme. No man can
touch pitch without being defiled. No man can mingle with such society without being contaminated. If
you have any regard for your character, you will keep
out of these lounging-places.
A few words now with regard to the choice of your
intimate companions. The need of intimate friendships is more constant and imperative among young
people than among those of maturer years. They are
usually formed without deliberation, congeniality of
disposition or similarity of pursuit being generally the
condition of their formation. Concerning them all
that has been said of your wider companionship is
true, namely, that the moral character of such friends
should be above reproach, and that their intellectual
capacities, if not their culture, should be fairly commensurate with your own. It may be further said, that
such friendships should not be too numerous. One
cannot well have more than one or two intimate friends.
The benefit of this near fellowship is in its sacred confidences; in the opening of your heart to one whom
you can trust; in the privilege of sharing with him
your inner experiences. There are some subjects of
which you will not even speak to your most intimate
friend.  Even those who have not, like Paul, been
caught up into the third heaven, have heard sometimes,




Conpanzionzsi z    and Society.   165
in their silent hours, "unspeakable words, which it i;
not lawful for a man to utter." And those interests of
yours which you may and do share with your best
friend, and which constitute the bond of your friendship with him, are of such a nature that they cannot
be spoken of familiarly and frequently. By sharing
them with many others, their value is cheapened and
their sacredness is lost. You cannot, then, have many
intimate friends.
Again, let your confidences with your near friends
always be concerning your higher and nobler experiences. Here is the test of all intimate friendships. If
the interests by which they are cemented are pure and
lofty interests, such friendships are a priceless blessing;
if the interests are low and grovelling, they are an incalculable curse. Resolve, then, that true thinking and
pure feeling and right living shall be the themes of
your discourse with those who share your confidences.
"Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are
honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things
are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever
things are of good report, if there be any virtue and if
there be any praise, think on these things."
We have spoken of the relationships which are
voluntarily assumed. Let us turn now to those into
which we are born, and from which we cannot escape
without forswearing our humanity. It is not of phi



I66  Plain Thoztghts onl the Art of Living.
lanthropy that I wish to speak, but rather of our duties to the municipality or the neighborhood in which
we reside. Most men live in, or in connection with,
hamlets or towns or cities. There are certain duties
which we owe to these communities, and certain interests which we should cherish in them.
First, then, be always vigilant and positive friends
of morality, stern and courageous foes of vice in the
community where you live. In almost every neighborhood you will find abandoned men who get their
living by iniquitous means; by corrupting the youth,
by vicious or criminal traffic. There are always laws
for the suppression of such iniquities, and officers to
execute them; but laws and officers can do nothing,
unless there is a public sentiment behind them to give
them force. If the majority of the community is determined that such wickedness shall not be allowed,
it will be suppressed, law or no law. If there is no
such public opinion, every law, no matter how stringent, will be a dead letter. What I urge is, that every
one of you contribute, to the full measure of your
influence, in creating and maintaining such a public
sentiment. Be ready to incur any risk or take any
responsibility in -bringing to condign punishment those
who get their livelihood by debauching the morals of
their fellow-men. Be positive supporters of morality
and virtue everywhere. They are the only safeguards
of any community.




CompanionshiDz and Society.      167
In the second place, let your influence always be
exerted to form and maintain an enlightened public
spirit in the place where you reside. There are two
kinds of wants to which public spirit attends, -the
material and the immaterial wants of society.  As
regards the former, there is never any great fear that
they will not be attended to. Whatever improvements
are needed in the way of adding directly to the
convenience or the material comfort or wealth of the
community are sure to be made. But the claims of
education, art, and refinement are more likely to be
neglected. For these, then, I would have you take
especial care.  Cherish the laudable pride which
delights in being able to say that the schools of your
native town are not to be surpassed; that nowhere else
are the streets so beautiful, or the public ornaments
so tasteful, or the public buildings of such architectural
beauty. To live in such a town as this is a liberal
education, if one never goes to school at all. Familiarity with beautiful objects does more than we are
aware to cultivate and enlarge the mind and to purify
the heart. The connection between taste and morals,
between beauty and goodness, is much closer than
-many persons think. Other things being equal, there
will be less vice and immorality in a beautiful town
than in a town that is destitute of ornament and taste.
Every addition that is made to the beauty of the




i68  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
streets or the buildings is a new guaranty against
wickedness. Men are not half so apt to be coarse
and brutish in manners or morals if the surroundings
of their lives are beautiful. For such good reasons,
young men and women, I counsel you to do your
utmost, not only to educate the people of the town in
which you live, but also to beautify the town. Every
movement in this direction is a step taken toward
public virtue.




XII.
AMUS EMENT.
IT is quite unnecessary that I should exhort healthy young men and women to spend part of their
time in recreation. Nature has anticipated me in this
lesson, and her impulse will not need to be reinforced
by any arguments of mine. Nature teaches the baby
to laugh before he can talk, to perform all manner
of infantile acrobatics before he can walk; and the
man or woman never outgrows these sportive tendencies, unless Nature is outraged and mutilated. Those
who refuse to obey her laws in this matter never
escape the penalties. Diseased bodies or deformed
and morbid minds are the unfailing recompense of all
those who deny themselves the recreation which nature enjoins.
If young men and women were left to follow the
impulses of nature in this matter, they would always
seek recreation, and would find in it, not only enjoyment and health, but the answer of a good conscience.
But some mistaken teachers have bound heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and have laid them on
the shoulders of the young, insisting that their sports
8




I70  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
are sinful; either because they are in themselves
wrong, or because they involve a wicked waste of time.
Under the influence of such erroneous teachings, a very
few young persons have denied themselves all mirthful
pastimes, and a great many have engaged in them
-with uneasy consciences. Now the fact is, that mirthfulness is an essential part of the human constitution,
and, as such, ought to be properly exercised and cultivated. And he who engages, at a proper time, and
within wise limits, in any innocent amusement should
feel that he is fulfilling, and not transgressing, the
divine law as it is written in his nature.
I have used the words "amusement" and "recreation " interchangeably, but we must not fail to make
a distinction between them. Recreation is re-creation,
a replenishment of wasted strength, a refreshment of
the tired or fretted spirit. The worn body and the
wearied mind need to have their waste repaired, and
there are two ways in which it can be done, - by rest
and by recreation. Sometimes rest is needed more
than recreation; sometimes recreation is needed more
than rest. If a person is worn by care and vexation
rather than by fatiguing work, some light pastime that
occupies the mind without taxing it is better medicine
than quiet and sleep. Recreation often prepares the
way for rest. If you come home at night harassed
and worried by the day's trials, and immediately seek




Amuzsement171 I
your couch, you often fail to find rest; you lie tossing
upon your pillow for hours. But if, before retiring,
you spend a little time in some harmless diversion, by
which your mind is taken off the rack upon which it
has been stretched through the day, and gently exercised in other directions, you will afterward immediately fall into refreshing sleep.
By amusements I mean the games, pastimes, or
diversions in which we find recreation.  Recreation
is the end sought; amusement the means by which
we seek it.  This distinction is not always made
in the use of these terms, but I think it should be
made.
Recreation is therefore only for the sake of health;
amusements are only for the sake of recreation. The
mirthful faculties may be exercised so excessively as
to produce weariness instead of refreshment; any
such exercise of them is not recreation, but dissipation.  Recreation is right; dissipation is wrong.
When amusements are resorted to for purposes of
recreation, they are good; when they are suffered to
tax the strength, or when they are merely a contrivance for killing time, they are evil.
Recreation may therefore be commended without
any qualifications. Whatever helps to replenish the
wasted energies of the body or the mind is excellent,
just in proportion as it produces that result. If there




172  PZain Thoughts on t/he Art of Living.
are faculties in our natures which have restorative
functions, we ought to allow them free development
and healthy exercise. Different persons will of course
need different kinds of recreation. They whose employments are sedentary should have gymnastic exercise, out of doors if possible; those who are employed in active work should have lighter pastimes.
Those whose work makes them sluggish and stupid
may profitably seek diversions in which there is some
excitement; those whose work taxes their nerves
should always have quiet sports.  A bookkeeper or
a bank-teller or a student would not find the game
of chess a profitable pastime; it requires too much
of mental activity and concentration to answer his
needs; such sports as bowling, or base-ball, or croquet would be healthier for him; while, on the
other hand, for a carpenter, or a brick-layer, or a
farmer, the game of chess would be better than those
athletic games.
Some persons allow recreation, but condemn amusement. They acknowledge that we need not only rest,
but a change of activity; but they insist that the
change of activity ought not to be from toil to amusement, but from one kind of toil to another. They
say, for example, that if a man has been working
hard upon the shoe-bench all day, he may find recreation by hoeing in his garden after the day's work is




Amusement.                 173
done; or if he has been poring over Latin commentaries and metaphysical theologies all day in his study,
he may. find solace and refreshment in sawing wood
an hour or two. These persons forget that the mind
needs diversion as much as the body needs exercise.
Sawing wood is a good physical exercise, but I have
never considered it a diversion. The student or the
professional man might profitably spend part of his
leisure in sawing wood, but part of it should also be
spent in some occupation that will afford a gentle
exhilaration to his mind.  Persons who are in health
need such pastimes to preserve their health; but
those whose health is impaired need them far more.
Take the case of a minister, whose digestive and
nervous systems have become considerably impaired,
but who is still engaged in his professional labor.
The physical derangement from which he is suffering will be very likely to make him work intemperately when he does work; his mind will be intensely
active in his study and his ministration, and when
he ceases from his labors and devotions he will inevitably fall to thinking of himself.  He will watch
his pulse, note all the symptoms of his case, and
brood over his disordered functions till he gets himself into a pitiable condition. Now to prescribe physical exercise for such a patient is not enough.  If
the man goes walking, he will count his respirations




174  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
while he walks. He needs diversion for his mind
quite as much as exercise for his body. If he could
be induced to engage with zest for a part of every
day in some innocent game, by which his mind could
be withdrawn for a short time from the two objects
which absorb it,-his work and himself,- there might
be some hope for a restoration of his health; otherwise,. his case is hopeless. And yet if such a remedy
is suggested to such a person, you will often. get
the reply that a Christian ought to find refreshment
enough in religious acts and exercises, without resorting to such worldly amusements.  He will tell you
that "it is an insult to Christianity and its Author to
say that it does not afford those joys which will satisfy an immortal mind."  Could there be greater infatuation than this? No man can have religion enough
to keep him from starving if he does not eat, nor to
keep him from being an ignoramus if he does not
study.  "In him  we live," but only by using the
means which he has ordained to preserve life. And
it is no more an insult to the Author of Christianity
to use the faculties and facilities which he has furnished for the refreshment of the mind, than it is to
eat when we are hungry.
Among those persons who believe that amusements
are necessary, there has been much controversy as to
certain kinds of amusement.  It seems to me that




Amzusement.              I75
the rules and restrictions laid down have not always
been such as to commend themselves to the judgment of young persons.  Certain amusements have
been freely allowed, while others, which do not appear to differ from them in any essential respect,
have been positively forbidden. For instance, dominoes have been excluded from very few Christian
families, while cards have generally been disallowed.
Why are games at cards forbidden? Because they
are games of chance? So are games with dominoes.
Is it because cards have often been used for gaming
purposes, or because they are often found in vile
places? But in every low groggery in the land men
gamble for drink with dominoes. I suppose it is
generally known that some of the common games at
cards can be played with dominoes. I have known
persons who played euchre with dominoes, and thought
it no harm, but who would have been shocked at the
idea. of playing euchre with cards.
"And that's the difference, you see,'Twixt tweedledum and tweedledee."
There has been too much of this incoherent and
illogical talk about these various amusements. If I
should tell you, young men and women, that dominoes and backgammon and base-ball and skating are
innocent amusements, and should forbid cards and




176 Plain Thozughts on the Art of Livinzg.
billiards and bowling and dancing, I could not give
you a single reason for my counsel. There is not a
single thing to be said in favor of the amusements first
mentioned which cannot be said in favor of those
last mentioned; there is not a single objection to be
brought against the last four which does not apply
with equal force to the first four. Are these fascinating? Those are equally fascinating.  Are these
used for gambling purposes? No more than those.
Do these lead to shameful excesses? The excesses
to which those lead are every whit as bad.  You
know all this as well as I do. And therefore if I
allow the one class and forbid the other, you know
I am speaking sophistry. I shall give you no such
counsel. All these amusements mentioned are equally
innocent. All of them are grossly abused. The good
that is in them all you may enjoy. The evils connected with them all you ought to shun.
I have said that dancing is an innocent amusement,
but that statement needs qualification. What I want
to say on this point has been well said by another,
and I shall quote:  " There are two classes of dances
in vogue, entirely different in their character, - the
one called the square dances, the other the round
dances. In the former are cotillons, quadrilles, and the
old contra dances; in the latter, the waltzes, polkas,
and such like. In the former, the sexes meet with




Amusement.                  177
perfect propriety; in the latter, they publicly embrace.
The former are modest, the latter immodest and still
worse. In regard to these latter, a Christian ought
not to hesitate an instant any more than he should
about thieving or lying. It is a fearful thing that
fashion has so perverted the sense of Christian parents as to allow this enormity to be practised in their
houses and by their own children. The foundation
for the vast amount of domestic misery and domestic
crime, which startles us often in its public outcroppings, was laid when parents allowed the sacredness
of their daughters' persons and the purity of their
maiden instincts to be rudely shocked in the waltz." *
With this qualification, which is a very important one,
dancing, like the other amusements mentioned, may
be pronounced innocent and good in itself. The
round dances are essentially vile; the square dances
are only evil in their abuses.
This is the truth with regard to these amusements,
I believe; but the common saying is that you are not
to be trusted with the truth. I am not afraid to trust
you. They say that if liberty is given you, some of
you will take license. Some of you will take license
whether liberty is given you or not; but I don't believe
you will be any more likely to take license because
liberty is given. They tell you that you have no con* Crosby's Social Hints to Young Christians, p. 46.
s8*1                          L




I7/8  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
trol over yourselves in these things; that if you once
get a taste of these forbidden amusements, you will rush
into all manner of injurious excesses. I say you can
and must govern yourselves in the use of every one of
them. This gospel of imbecility has been preached
long enough. You have been diligently persuaded to
believe that you are mere puppets in the hands of circumstance; that you can make no effectual resistance
against the seductions of frivolity. It is abominable
doctrine. You can use all these things without abusing them. If you use them excessively, it will not be
for lack of power, but for lack of disposition to
use them moderately. There is no fatality about it.
There have always been, and, no matter what theories
may be taught, there always will be, injurious excesses
in amusements; so there have always been, and
always will be, excesses in eating. But you are not
told that the power of appetite is so strong that
those who get a taste for high living and a habit of
overfeeding cannot eat with moderation; you are told
that you must learn to control your appetites, and deny
yourselves such indulgences in food as shall be injurious to you. And yet it is more difficult for the majority of persons to be temperate in their diet than to be
temperate in their amusements. The tendencies to
excess in eating are stronger than the tendencies to
excess in amusement. We all believe that men can




Amusement.                179
restrain and regulate the appetite for food, and that
when they allow this appetite to domineer over them
they are guilty; why is it not equally true that they
may restrain and regulate the weaker desire for
amusements, and that they should be held to a rigid
account for every excessive indulgence of that
desire?
And now, since we have found a firm basis for
amusement in the philosophy of life, and since we
have cleared away the rubbish of sophistry and prejudice with which the subject is often encumbered, let
me say to you, young men and women, that the perils
connected with your amusements are manifold and
grave. I have no doubt that the great majority of the
young persons who will read these words are injured
rather than benefited by amusement.  There are
many men and women in middle life who take too
little time for play; but there are very few young people against whom this accusation can be brought.
Most of you devote too much time and thought to
your sports. Many of you are so absorbed in them
that you have little time or thought for anything else.
Some of you do absolutely nothing but amuse yourselves. Dress and frolic are the chief delight and the
sole employment of some of you. This is all wrong
and ruinous. To live as some persons do live, "just
for the fun of it," is to abuse and destroy all the bet



I8o  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
ter parts of life. Those who do not work have no
right to play. When amusements serve as a recreation for tired workers, they are right and beneficial.
When they are employed by idlers to pass away time
that hangs heavily on their hands, they are pernicious
and sinful. Every use of them by such persons is an
abuse of them. The whole life of such persons is a
life of abuse. They pervert, not only their sports, but
themselves. If there is anything more sickening to a
true apprehension than the life of the human butterfly,
I don't know where to find it. When such persons
come to the final retrospect, -when the wasted years
rise up before them in melancholy review, — if their
sensibilities are not wholly obliterated, their memories
must be unutterably bitter. Do any of you desire to
share that unavailing sorrow?
Work is not only a necessity, it is a privilege and a
bequest.  It is the birthright glory of every man and
woman. The burden of toil might have been lighter
if man had never fallen, but the need of toil in developing the body and the mind is not a need superinduced by the fall. It belongs to the original conditions of our nature.  It is through work, either of the
brain or the hands, that we get not only daily bread,
but capacity and culture. Work is the chief purely
human instrumentality for the attainment of these
higher ends. No man or woman has any right to




Amusemezt.                I8 I
attempt to live without some useful employment.
Amusement must be resorted to only as relaxation
in labor, only as a help to labor. It is not the main
thing. It is a subordinate thing.  If you have no
useful employment, you have no right to amusement,
no right to food and shelter and raiment, -no
rights at all in this universe. You are an intruder
and an outlaw here, and the sooner you are out of the
way the better it will be for the world. If you have
some honest work to do, you may have just as much
amusement as will qualify you to do your work well,
and no more. When your play begins to interfere
with your work, it becomes an evil and an abomination.
Some of you do suffer your play to interfere with
your work. You have some sports which occupy far
too much of your time. Some of you sit at the chessboard so many hours at a time, that your amusement
is turned into a wearisome dissipation, and time that
ought to be devoted to reading and study is wasted.
Others of you trifle away many precious hours with
cards or backgammon. Some, perhaps, give far too
much time to music. It is wrong to suffer any amusement, no matter how innocent, to absorb the time
that belongs to work, or sleep, or study.
Not only time but strength is wasted by many of
you in your amusements. Instead of being a refresh



182  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
ment to you, they are often a source of fatigue and
exhaustion. Base-ball, as it is often played, is an exercise so violent and so long continued that it is followed by complete bodily prostration.  The same
thing is true of skating and of dancing. Either of
these may be healthful and excellent diversions; but,
as they are often indulged in, they are most injurious
to health and often fatal to life. I don't think many
persons could safely skate more than one hour a
day; anything beyond that would probably injure
the health; and yet young men and women often
skate five or six hours at a time. What wonder that
many of them become invalids for life? A person
might dance for an hour or so in an evening without
any ill effect; but the practice of meeting about bedtime and dancing till about rising time, is a practice
fraught with mischief. I should like to know if that
answers the ends of recreation? Do those who spend
the whole night, or even half of it, in these dancing
debauches, feel refreshed and invigorated for their
work on the next morning? One such night of dissipation injures the health more than a month's hard
labor. Every human being needs eight full hours of
sleep in every twenty-four, - Dr. Franklin to the contrary notwithstanding; and at least one of those hours
should come before midnight. Duty or charity may
keep us out of our beds later than this, but pleasure




Amusement.                183
never. When amusements occupy the time that ought
to be sacred to sleep, they defeat the only end for
which amusement may rightfully be sought.  Some
of you are guilty in this matter.  Not only at balls
and dancing parties, but also at those evening parties
where dancing is not allowed, and where the time is
spent in other pastimes, you frequently stay till long
past midnight, - sometimes till morning looks in at
the window and blushes at your folly. I tell you,
young men and women, that such conduct as this is
an outrage upon nature.  I have no soft words to
speak about it. It is simply and wholly abominable.
And you may depend upon it that the curse of Him
who formed these bodies and ordained the laws by
which they should be governed must rest upon those
who thus persist in despising and defying the plainest
of his laws.
Some of you waste a great deal of money in amusement. A large share of the surplus cash of many of
you goes for fun. Sometimes you are led by your
appetite for amusement to anticipate your income,
and run in debt. I don't think, as some persons do,
that all the money which is spent for amusement is
wasted, but to let all the spare change, or even the
larger part of it, go in that direction is evidently
wrong.  Many of those who earn their own living,
after paying for their board and clothes, expend all




184  Plain Tkhoughts on t/e Art of Living.
the remainder for billards, balls, concerts, shows,
picnics, excursions, and livery bills, and have nothing
left for culture or for charity, nothing to lay by for a
rainy day. Now, however small the surplus may be,
most of it ought to be devoted to these higher purposes.  You can get amusements enough that are
cheap, and you can't afford, if you have but little, to
spend it all for sport. You want a new book, or a
picture, now and then; you ought to have a little
money to give to worthy objects of benevolence; you
should put something by, in the savings' bank, every
year; to dispense with these things, and to devote
all your money to amusement, is a foolish extravagance.
Many of you are led into bad company by your
amusements. Some of the sports I have mentioned
are rarely found in good company. Such, for instance,
are the games of billiards and bowling. I have told
you frankly that these games are good in themselves;
but you probably know as well as I that there are
very few public billiard-rooms or bowling-alleys into
which it is safe for a young man to go. In many of
them liquor is freely sold; in nearly all of them the
society you would meet is far from being profitable.
Remember what we said in our talk about companionship,- that while it is often necessary for us in
our work to associate with evil companions, it is not




Amusement.                I85
necessary to have such companions in our play, and
we must always avoid them. The billiards and the
bowling will not hurt you, but the society you find in
the places where they are kept will hurt you. Music
is a good thing, but it would hardly be safe to go
into a low concert-room to enjoy it. Social conversation is a good thing, but the bar-room of a hotel, or
a country grocery, where the atmosphere is reeking
with tobacco-smoke and profanity and smutty stories,
is not the place to get the benefit of it. Billiards and
bowling are good things, but if you can't enjoy them
without mixing in such society as is commonly found
in these public places, you had better do without
them forever.  Never let your love for amusement
lead you into bad company! "Enter not into the
way of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil
men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it and pass
away."
There is one more evil consequence of an undue
love of amusement, to which I must not fail to point
you. That is the frivolous habit of mind to which it
sometimes leads. It is not an uncommon thing for
young men and women to become so absorbed in
their sports, that they lose all interest in serious things,
and all capacity for earnest thought and endeavor.
This can never be the case when the principle here
laid down is rigidly adhered to, and amusement is




I86  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
only sought as a means of recreation.  But those
who disregard this law, and make amusement the
chief end of their lives and not a means to a higher
end, often become giddy and shatter-brained, incapable of any deep feeling or any high purpose, deaf to
the voices of duty and the claims of charity, dead
to all the calls of religion. Perhaps you think that
you are in no danger from this quarter, but this is the
direction in which every excessive indulgence of your
sportive nature is hurrying you. Beware! It is an
awful thing to fall into this condition of utter frivolity
and folly.
Young men and women, I have dealt honestly with
you in this matter. I believe these words are true.
If I knew that they were my last words, I could not
change them. Now do you deal honestly with me.
If you take the liberty I give, take it with the guards
and limitations which I have thrown around it. May
the Good Spirit guide you into all truth, and help you
to rule your lives with a wisdom so exalted and pure
that they shall be filled with healthful and enduring
happiness.




XIII.
RESPECTABILITY AND SELF-RESPECT.
THE respect of our fellow-men is a possession to
be coveted. To have a blameless character, a
good report of our neighbors, is an end often set before us in the New Testament as worthy our striving. But in seeking this end men make serious mistakes.
It is sometimes supposed, or seems to be, that the
favorable regard of others can be won by self-assertion. There are many who are not content to wait
till honor comes to them; they go after it, making
noisy parade of their claims upon the respect of
others for their persons or their deeds or their opinions. They are always anxious to exhibit their good
qualities, and they are saying in all the actions of
their lives: "Look at me! Consider what I have
done! Think of the talents and virtues which I possess! Can you despise me? Can you withhold from
me that honor which is my due?"  This is the surest
way to lose honor and gain contempt. By striving to
exhibit their excellences, these persons'display the
one most glaring of all their defects, and that is van



I88   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
ity. In showing themselves so anxious that people
should not despise them, they make themselves thoroughly despicable.  The truth is, that while the good
opinion of our neighbors is to be desired and rejoiced
in, it is not to be directly sought. Like many other of
the good things of life, it comes to us without our immediate volition. We can supply the conditions upon
which it may come to us, but we cannot go after it
and get it. We may prepare the soil and sow the
seed from which this plant of confidence may grow;
but having done this, the less anxiety we show about its
growth the better for us. It is like that seed which
a man took and sowed in his field, and then, sleeping
and rising night and day, not giving himself any great
concern as to whether it was growing or not, he soon
found that the earth of herself had brought forth the
life,- first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn
on the ear. The respect of our neighbors is one of
the coyest of blessings. If we call after it, it will
refuse to come; if we reach forth our hands to grasp
it, it will fly away; and all those who do possess it
find it costing them neither endeavor nor request. It
is something like the Australian boomerang, which,
if you throw it away, returns to you by the very force
of projection.
And yet there is much of effort to obtain and to
keep this possession. All self-assertion and ostenta



Respectabilily and Self-Resject.    I89
tion I suppose to be manifestations of this desire
for the good opinion of others.  Why does a man
strut and swagger, if not to impress others with a
sense of his importance?  Why does he boast of
his qualities and his achievements? Why does he
monopolize conversation if he is not desirous of being
thought the intellectual sun and centre of the company that surrounds him? Why does he talk in lordly
tones, and bestow upon the opinions of others either
his contempt or his most gracious patronage, if he does
not wish that others may think him wiser and greater
than his fellows? A man may be conceited and hide
it; but if he is conceited and shows it, it is for no
other reason than that he desires to impress others
with an idea of his own magnitude.
Sometimes there is also a direct bidding for popularity where there is no apparent self-assertion. Men
seek to ingratiate themselves with their fellows by
movements or enterprises which they think will redound to their praise.  Sometimes by a free use
of their money, sometimes by setting on foot public
movements which they think will be popular, sometimes by showing favor to individuals, they endeavor
to win good opinion and applause. I do not mean
that all who are charitable and public-spirited and
neighborly are moved by this selfish desire for the
praise of their fellows; but that sometimes men em



I90o  Plain Tloughts on the Art of Living.
ploy these means for the express purpose of exalting
themselves. And when it is discovered - and it is sure
to be discovered sooner or later -that this is the end
they have in view, they soon find that for all their
outlay they have purchased nothing but contempt and
derision.
Some persons seem to think they can compel the
respect of others by violent means. If others treat
them with disrespect, they resent it and angrily demand reparation for the offended dignity. Whenever
their wisdom or their greatness is called in question,
they assume a belligerent attitude, and they sometimes
appeal to something that is called a "code of honor."
They appear to hold that if an individual has a poor
opinion of you, the only way to make him think better of you is to chastise him or to shoot him. Or if
they do not suppose that the opinions of the offending
individual himself may be changed by this style of
treatment, they certainly imagine that those who witness their resentment and their vengeance will have
a higher opinion of them. Now it is quite evident
that in any community, the moral sense of which is
not completely debauched, such endeavors to heal
wounded honor will result inauspiciously.  Violent
demands for respect will occasion the loss of all respect. Honor that can only be maintained by physical force is dishonor. I found this so well put one




Respectability and Self-Reepect.  191
day in a political newspaper that I shall quote the
passage. It seems that an editor somewhere in the
West had been indulging in some contemptuous reflections upon the abilities of a certain young man
who was attempting to be a political orator; whereat
the latter took umbrage, and in company with a
big brother of his visited the editor and chastised
him severely with clubs. The newspaper thus comments
"This may be thought very smart and gentlemanly
by the perpetrators, but what is the good of it?  We
did n't know till this affair that the man was a poor
hand at speech-making; but now we are sure of it.
A man who had any confidence in his own brains
would not seek to supply the deficiency with clubs or
fists."
There are others who assume nothing, but concede
everything; who have no fixed opinions or principles
of their own, but yield submissively to all with whom
they come in contact. This is exactly the opposite
error, the error of the sycophant and the parasite.
These men think they will be honored and beloved in
proportion as they are weak-backed and supple-kneed.
They fancy men will honor them for tamely assenting
to every opinion however absurd, and meanly consenting to every deed however disgraceful. They fear to
take any independent ground lest it should lose them




I92   Plain Thongiats on the Art of Living.
friends and gain them enemies. The result is that
the evil they deprecate is always visited upon them.
They are used as the tools of selfish men, and when
they can be of no further service they are thrown
away in disgust and detestation.  They seek honor
and find shame. They expect confidence and respect,
and behold, they are slighted and despised.
These are some of the wrong roads into which men
turn who are seeking the respect of their neighbors.
Where is the right road?
There are just two things to be done in order to secure the respect of men. When these two things are
done, you will have their respect without fail. The
first thing is to make yourself worthy of respect. Until this is done you will not succeed in gaining the good
opinion of your neighbors, nor can you complain if you
do not. Sometimes by well-contrived hypocrisies men
do get for themselves applause, but the disguise will
soon prove to be transparent. The cheat or charlatan will not long retain respect, and when it is gone the
contempt with which men treat him will be exactly
proportioned to the undeserved honor they formerly
gave him. What, then, briefly, are the qualities that
render a man worthy of respect?
Shall we say, first, intelligence? I think so; but this
qualification needs to be qualified. Other things being
equal, the greater is the measure of intellectual devel



Respectability and Se/f-Respect.   I93
opment the worthier will the man be of respect. But
it does not follow that every well-cultured man deserves
our good opinion, nor that no man deserves it who is
not well-cultured. Before many a man whose learning
is small, whose speech is neither eloquent nor profound, whose range of thinking is not wide, I bow
down with reverence. In order that a man may be
entitled to respect, it is only necessary, so far as his
mind is concerned, that he shall make the most of his
opportunities for gaining knowledge. Those who are
so conditioned that they are unable to educate themselves liberally are not to be despised for their lack of
opportunity, and will not be by.right-minded people.
If they only show a disposition to learn when the opportunity is given them, if they are always ready to
receive from any quarter whatever light or instruction
may be imparted to them, that is all that any one can
demand.
But the qualities that compel respect are not chiefly
intellectual. They belong rather to the heart than to
the head. One who is reverent and just and generous
and truthful and honest and brave will be worthy of
respect, even though his education may have been limited.  And these are qualities that every human being
may possess. Doubtless some by the aid of their natural
organization will acquire them more easily than others,
but all may have them by effort and painstaking. To
9                           M




194  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
no condition or age of man do these qualities exclusively belong. Whoever has them is respectable, not in
the narrow and conventional meaning of that word,
but in its broadest and highest sense. And no person
who has them not is respectable, truly so, however noblie may have been his ancestors, however great his
achievements, however vast may be his belongings.
Respectability, in the true sense of that word, is not in
any wise dependent upon a man's belongings. By respectable people are sometimes meant those who belong to a certain set or coterie, those who wear a certain
quality or style of raiment, or those who possess a certain amount of wealth. But such use of the word is
little better than profanity. People answering to this
description may be respectable, - often are highly so,
-but their respectability does not depend upon these
outward conditions. Neither does a man's worthiness
of respect depend upon his achievements. Some very
contemptible men have done remarkable things. We
are usually ready to give the meed of honor to one
who has performed some great act, and there is certainly reason for this.  We conclude that one who
could do such a noble thing must have in his character
all the elements of a noble man; but the conclusion
is not always safe. Many who have made themselves
famous by heroic deeds have been despicable men.
On the other hand, many who have never distinguished




Respectability and Self-Reslpect.    195
themselves by any great achievement have been worthy
of everlasting honor. Therefore, in bestowing upon
men our applause, we are not to look so much at the
few prominent and famous things they have done as at
the whole tenor of their lives. And in making ourselves worthy of the respect of our fellows we should.
be less ambitious to do some great thing that shall be
noised abroad, than to act nobly every day and every
hour; to live wisely and well, though our lives are
never written by the biographers; to do right in everything, though our deeds are never sung by the poets.
The first condition of the highest respectability, then,
is goodness. But one thing more is needed in order
that we may be respected.  Good men are respectable
always; but such men are not always respected, owing to
one serious defect of character. That is, want of selfrespect. They who would be respected must not only
be worthy of respect, they must respect thernselves.
How shall I define this virtue of self-respect? for virtue
it is. That it is a very different thing from self-conceit
need not be said. The best definition I can think of
is this: it is the tribute which a man pays to his own
manhood. The self-conceited man either has, or supposes he has, certain qualities by which he is distinguished from other men, and these he constantly parades for the admiration of others. The self-respectful
man thinks little or not at all of the qualities that




I96  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
make him to differ from his fellow-men, but recognizes
certain rights, endowments, and dignities which he
shares equally with them. Because all men possess
by nature these rights, endowments, and dignities, he
honors all men, and what he honors in others he canpot despise in himself. The human nature is and shall
ever be the worthiest and the noblest thing upon this
earth. And though it is perverted by sin and selfishness, yet its divine lineaments continue to shine through
all the disfigurements which men have brought upon
it. A man may, indeed, so abuse himself that he shall
cease to be worthy of the respect of others, and cannot
respect himself; but when one is conscious that by a
life of faith and honesty and high endeavor he is trying
to preserve what dignity and excellence he possesses
in his own nature, and to restore to it all that has been
lost, he cannot despise himself He will bestow upon
himself no more honor than he freely gives to all decent and well-disposed human beings; to that honor
he deems himself entitled; that honor he claims from
others. He respects his neighbor as himself; neither
more nor less than himself. He is not forward to
demand of others the meed of respect to which he
considers himself entitled, but he will conduct himself
in all his intercourse with them as if it belonged to
him by right and as if he expected to receive it.
It happens unfortunately that some human beings




Res15ectability and Self-Respect.   197
ignore or despise this great truth, that the humanity
which every man possesses is that in which all dignity
and honor reside. There are a few who seem to suppose that men of themselves are of very little account;
that their possessions and their accidents - that which
is attached to them — give them all the importance
they possess. They will not deign to notice a man,
be he ever so noble; but to a wardrobe, a retinue, or
a bank account they pay all homage. What now shall
be the conduct of a man who respects himself when
he is brought into contact with such fools as these?
Of course he will neither cringe before them nor flatter
them. He will be careful to do nothing which shall
indicate that he counts his manhood of less consequence than their belongings. If a man has more
wisdom or larger experience than he, at the feet of
that man he will be ready to sit as a learner; if he
discovers another who is eminent for purity, charity, or
fidelity, before that one he will bow down with reverence; but he will never consider himself to be inferior
to another, simply because that other has larger possessions or stands in a higher station in society. All
his actions in the presence of such a man will firmly
protest against any assumption of superiority that may
be made by himself or by others in his behalf. Still
the protest, though firm, will not be noisily nor angrily
made. It will be implied, not expressed. He will




I98   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
not say in words to such a man, "You are of no more
account than I am." He will put himself in all his
dealings with that man upon a footing of perfect equality, and will resolutely, though with perfect good-nature,
maintain himself upon that footing. If he is still treated with contempt, he cares not for it. He only needs
to assert the dignity of his own manhood, - to refuse
to count that inferior to wealth or title or family connections.  Having done this, if the respect he thus
pays to himself does not extort from others the same
tribute of respect, he will not be angry nor offended.
The honor which is often paid to men because of
their belongings is a stumbling-block in the way of
many young persons. Those who are poor, or who
occupy what are called the lower ranks in society,
are brought into contact daily with those who are
rich or high-born; and in this intercourse they are
liable to fall into two errors. They either humble
themselves before the rich, or else spitefully resent
the generally received idea that the rich are their
superiors.  These errors are equally foolish.  No
man whose opinion is of the slightest consequence
will treat you with less honor because your possessions are smaller than his, or because your garments
are less elegant, or because you differ from him in
any way in that which is merely external to you. If
any persons do treat you differently for no other rea



Respectability anzd Self-Respect.   I99
son than this, it is positive proof that, whoever they
may be, or whoever their ancestors may have been,
or however much they possess, they are not worthy
of the smallest consideration. Their favorable notice
would not do you any good; their contempt will not
do you any harm. And if you are weak enough to
care for the regard of such people, you are too weak
to stand alone in this world, and may as well make
up your mind at the outset to be the menials and
dependents of society as long as you live.
But there are few such people. The great majority of men and women, in all conditions of life, will
gladly give you the meed of their respect, if you
show yourself worthy of it; and then, with a modest
dignity, claim it for yourselves. If you approach the
rich as you approach the poor, with frankness and
heartiness of manner, you will be received by the
rich as cordially as you are received by the poor.
The great majority of rich people are glad to honor
young persons who treat them in this manly way.
There are some exceptions, as I have said; but these
exceptions are of no sort of consequence. Nobody
wants the respect of fools, whether they are rich or
poor.
I must express my opinion that the haughtiness
and scorn with which poor people complain that they
are treated by the rich are often the natural result




200  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Livinzg.
of their own conduct. You say, good friends, that
the rich treat you coolly; that they take no notice
of you in society; that they pass you by in the street.
But look about you, and see if you cannot find certain
persons, no richer, no better clad, no better bred than
you, who are on the most friendly terms with these
same rich people. It is not, then, because you are
poor that they do not notice you, for others as poor
as you are cordially treated by them. Look into this
matter now, and discover the reason of this difference
between their treatment of you and of these others.
See if it be not found in your conduct when you meet
them. Perhaps you approach them suspiciously, with
eyes averted or cast down, or with a certain halfdefiant air. If so, you may be certain they will treat
you coolly.  Perhaps these others meet them in a
frank and friendly manner, on a footing of mutual
regard, -neither cringing before them  nor defying
them, -but just treating them as if they were men
and brethren. If so, you have the reason why they
are kindly received. This is the right footing on
which to meet every man, whatever may be his station or his possessions. Stand up like a man, take
him by the hand, look him in the eye, hear what he
has to say with deference, answer with a manly frankness; let him see that you are neither afraid of him
nor ashamed of yourself.




Respectability and Self-Respect.    20I
Young persons ii the lower walks of life often fail
of the friendship of those in higher stations for this
very reason. They are thoroughly worthy of respect,
but they do not respect themselves. They are trying
to live good and upright lives, and they have a consciousness of integrity, and yet when they are brought
into the society of those who are better off for this
world, they fall into such sheepish or sullen ways that
one cannot treat them cordially. They are ashamed
of themselves because they are poor.  No matter
how loudly they may talk about poverty being no
disgrace, they feel that it is a disgrace, and act accordingly.  If they are ashamed of themselves, of
course other people will be ashamed of them. If
they do not respect themselves, others cannot respect them. Is not this true, young men and women? Do you not sometimes suffer yourselves to
feel diffident and to act as if you were ashamed of
yourselves, on account of your conditions? I must
confess that it was so with me when I was a poor young
man, and many were the torments of envy and illfeeling that I brought upon myself in this way.
Now, though I have precious little more of this
world's wealth to boast than I had in those days, I
have learned not to be ashamed of myself because I
am poor, but to meet all men upon a friendly footing.
If they choose to despise me because I have less
9*




202   Plain Thoufghts on the Art of Living.
wealth or less learning than they, so much the worse
for them. I will not set them the bad example.
And I can testify that this is a far more comfortable
way of living than the other. I commend you all to
try it.
First, try to be worthy of respect; then respect
yourselves. These are the two conditions from which
you will surely gain a good report of all men. These
conditions are entirely within your reach. When
Paul wrote to Titus, "Let no man despise thee," he
gave advice which was entirely practicable.  If he
had written, "Let no man hate thee," that would
have been counsel difficult to follow. It is impossible to be active and positive friends of virtue without
being hated. But it is quite possible to live above
contempt. If you cross the paths of selfish and evil
men, they will hate you, of course; that you must
expect. But no man can be so selfish or so wicked
that he is not compelled to confess to himself that
twice two is four; that the starry heavens are beautiful; that benevolence is right; that honor and integrity are admirable. These are subjects in regard to
which we have no choice of opinion.  We cannot
help thinking just as we do about them. So when
men see a character that is essentially noble and
beautiful, they must admire it; they cannot despise it.
They may hate the man himself, and they may affect




Respectability and Self-Respect.   203
to despise him; but they cannot and do not. That
is a natural impossibility.
That the good opinion of our fellows is desirable,
we shall all agree; that it is attainable by all, I think
we cannot doubt. We have seen what are the conditions upon which it is bestowed. Whether this truth
will be of service to you I cannot tell; but it seems
to me now, that if some one had made it plain to me
in my earlier days, it would have helped me to live
a happier and a manlier life.




XIV.
MARRIAGE.
AT  the beginning I desire to protest against the
irreverence with which in our common talk we
are wont to treat this sacred theme. I have no doubt
much domestic misery springs from this unseemly jesting about marriage. It is difficult to think seriously
upon a subject of which you are accustomed to speak
triflingly. Some young people indulge in so much
foolish banter and raillery about this' matter, that they
come at length to look upon it as a farce, and when
they are married they find themselves utterly unable
to apprehend the meaning of the vows they have taken
upon themselves.
Partly because of these frivolities of conversation,
partly because unsound theories concerning marriage
have gained currency in various ways, and partly because parents and religious teachers have been restrained by a false delicacy from speaking plainly about
this all-important subject, the minds of many young
men and women are filled with false ideas of the
marriage relation.  There is reason to believe that
some young persons look forward. to their wedding-day




Marr iage.                205
as to a kind of pastime or holiday frolic. They think
of it as a time when they shall be released from parental restraint, and from the old routine of home duties
and enjoyments; when they shall be introduced into
new scenes and pleased with new delights. Their
thoughts rarely reach much further on than the wedding-day, and it is the dressing and the feasting and
the flowers and the showy equipage and the bridal tour,
and all the various sights and sounds and perfumes
and flavors of the honeymoon, that their hearts are set
upon. Such notions as these should be speedily dissipated. Marriage is not for a day, but for all time,
and in its influences and results upon the characters
of those who are married it is for all eternity. It is
not a pastime, but a serious and noble vocation.' It is
not a screaming farce, nor even a genteel comedy; it
is a drama of thrilling import.  Alas for those who
have only studied the first scene of the first act, and
are wholly unprepared for the manifold situations and
events with which the play will be crowded before the
curtain shall fall upon the "last scene of all that ends
this strange, eventful history!"
Marriage is by others regarded as a mere matter of
amorous caprice. Here you find the bad influence of
the sensation novel. I know of nothing which is so
effectual as the reading of these novels to derange the
minds of young men and women with regard to this




206   Plain Thonughts on the Art of Living.
subject. I am not going to denounce indiscriminately
all works of fiction, for much that is pure and instructive is found upon the pages of some of them; some of
them give you as sound and sensible views of life as
you will find anywhere. But a large proportion of the
fictitious publications of the day are -pernicious to the
morals and destructive to the tastes of all who habitually read them. They have this effect, not because of
any immorality or obscenity that they contain, for comparatively few of them sin in this gross way, but because of their unreality. There is an element in them
which stirs up sickly sentimentalism in the minds of
the young, and develops morbid notions concerning
the relations of the sexes. This is about the gist of
them  all.  In the first chapter two young persons
-one of each sex -are introduced. Their characters
vary with the ideals of the novelists, and you find them
ranging all the way from imbecility up to mediocrity.
In nine cases out of ten they are absurd and impossible creatures, and could no more have existed in this
world as they are described than a fish could live on
dry land. The two perform the not very original feat
of falling in love at first sight, - if this is not told in
so many words it is at least hinted at, - and then you
know that without the shadow of a doubt they will be
married in the last chapter. There will be obstacles
high as heaven and firm as fate and numerous as the




Marriage.                 207
stars to obstruct their union, but they will, be married
at last, - that is a foregone conclusion.  The story
relates in detail the passional acrobatics of these two
young persons, and weak-minded people shudder over
the hair-breadth'scapes, and snivel over the cheap
imitations of pathos, and lay down the last number
with their heads full of diseased notions. The theory
of love and marriage which these stories propound is
accepted as the true theory; and young people long for
an opportunity to signalize themselves in the same
way. So they embrace the first opportunity to fall in
love; and, following the example of the heroes and
heroines of these sensation stories, they do many surprisingly silly things, and end in making themselves
miserable for life by ill-assorted marriages.  This is
the harm done by these flashy fictions. They vitiate
the minds of those who read them by depicting the
marriage relation in unreal colors; nine tenths of them
making a mere blind passion the central idea, and
ignoring the other constituents of happy wedlock.
Let no one suppose I am ridiculing that pure and
noble affection which is the first condition of happy
marriage.  If there is anything beautiful and sacred
on this earth, it is this. \ To speak sneeringly of so
divine a thing would be profanity. To lay an unclean
finger upon the shrine of true love would be sacrilege.
Wedlock without it is what the body is when the soul




208   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
has departed, cold and rigid and thickly sown with
seeds of corruption. But the reality is a far different
thing from the caricatures which we find in the yellow-covered stories. It grows upon a different root,
and bears a different kind of fruit. Therefore let me
counsel you against the reading of these silly stories.
Though you may be hardly conscious of it, they are
demoralizing you. Do not adopt for your guidance in
matters matrimonial the maxims of the writers of these
novels, nor the examples of the heroes and heroines.
Any old housewife can supply you with better maxims
and set you a better example. If you have in your
heads any of the high-flown ideas with which books of
fiction have furnished you, rid yourselves of them as
speedily as may be, and employ instead thereof in
your deliberations upon this subject a modicum of
your own common sense.
These may be called romantic views of marriage.
Even worse than these are the selfish and sordid
views of which there is a great variety.  Some
young persons hope for a union by which they shall
come into possession of fine establishments.  Their
Utopia is a palace among the avenoodles, with all
the luxuries and splendors, the revenues and retinues,
which are supposed to belong to that condition of
life. Marriage is only desired by them as a means to
this end.




Marriage.                209
Others care less for wealth and fashion and equipage, but long to become known by a connection with
men or women of power or reputation. Marriage is
only desired by them as an avenue to fame or to position in the social, literary, or political world. Their
motive in marrying is ambition.
It is evident that neither of the classes mentioned,
neither those who would marry for wealth, nor those
who would marry to gratify their ambition, are actu
ated by the right spirit. These motives, of which we
have spoken, are found in the superficial relations of
life. Neither of them springs from the heart's necessities, neither of them "stirs the spirit's inner deeps."
A marriage negotiated and consummated with such
feelings as these as the real foundation of it is no
more a true marriage than is the union of two birds
of prey or two blocks of marble.
Another and less repulsive phase of the selfish
view of marriage is exhibited by those who marry for
a home. The young man gets tired of the cold comfort of the boarding-house, and longs for a home of
his own, a house of whose arrangements he shall have
the ordering, a family circle of which he shall be the
centre instead of being on the outer circumference.
And having decided upon such a home, he looks about
him for some one to preside over its affairs.  This
woman, when he has found her and married her, is
N




2IO Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
inot in any true sense his wife. She is only his housekeeper.
But marrying for a home is not quite so common:
among young men as among young women. This is
not altogether the fault of the young women.  The
constitution of society is such that a young woman
left alone in the world finds it a hard and perilous
thing to live. If she has wealth at her disposal, it is
not so difficult; but if she is. compelled to depend
upon her own resources for support, the problem is
not easy of solution. The callings by which society
expects a woman to earn a livelihood are so few, and,
as a consequence, so thronged with needy workers,
that work is scarce and wages are small. Besides, the
good name, of a young woman - her most precious
possession —is not always so carefully cherished by
her neighbors as it ought to be. Envy or jealousy, or
a mere wantonness in mischief, will sometimes set
reports in circulation for which there is little or no
foundation, but which are calculated to cause her great
pain, and sometimes to give her serious trouble. And
therefore when a young woman, who either has no
parents to support and care for her, or who feels that
she must not be a burden on the hands of her parents,
begins to study the questions of life, she finds herself
confronted by these two facts: first, that it is not an
easy thing for a young woman to gain a livelihood;




Marriage.                2 I
and, second, that society is not so jealous as it might
be of her reputation. Is it any wonder, then, that she
is willing to accept the first eligible offer of a home
that presents itself? Even though the life to which
she thus devotes herself be a life of toil and care,
even though her companion may not be altogether
such a one as she could desire, even though she may
have no real affection for him, yet of the two evils
before her she chooses the one which seems to her
the least.
And yet it seems to me very plain that for such
considerations a young woman ought never to enter
into the solemn compact of matrimony. If she cannot
take care of herself alone in the world, it is not likely
that she is competent to assume the care of a household; and if she is able to make her own way in the
world, she has no good excuse for such a disposal of
herself. Besides, though this is a form of selfishness,
much less gross and much more excusable than that
of those who marry for wealth or for ambition, it is
yet in essence selfishness. Marriage in this view is
not an affair of the affections at all; it is only an
arrangement for shelter and livelihood. Undoubtedly
many of those who enter the marriage relation for
this reason learn, in time, to cherish a genuine affection for their companions; but it is hardly safe to
trust that this will be the result. It is a perilous




212  Pla in  Thoughts on the Art of Living.
thing for two persons between whom there is no real
union of heart to be united by law, in the hope that
they'may come to have a true regard for each other in
time. This may be the result, but the probabilities are
strongly in the other direction. And if it should not
be the result, what lies before them? The legal union
will bind them together, and they will respect their
mutual vows; but though they may be outwardly faithful to each other, though each may be studiously kind
and considerate of the other's happiness, if there is
no true sympathy of heart, no genuine affection between them, there will be dearth and darkness and
unavailing sorrow in their hearts for which the most
comfortable home is a poor recompense. Did I say
"home"?  No; for though the habitation may be
beautiful without, and enriched with all comfort and
elegance within, and though one may have a perpetual
title to it, and may spend the whole of life within its
walls, it is not home unless the spirit finds there perfect rest and the satisfaction of all its longings. Did
I counsel you not to marry for a home? I recall that
counsel, and bid you joyfully accept the first home
that is offered you. Only be sure that it is a home
for your heart, and not merely a shelter for your
head.
Marriage is sometimes regarded as the end for
which woman was created. Young men are destined




Marriage.                 213
for the duties of life, young women for marriage.
The great interest and care of many parents concerning their daughters has been to get them well
married.  Instead of asking, "How can we prepare
our daughters to be self-reliant and capable women,
so that they shall be useful and happy in any station
where God shall place them?" they have merely
asked, "How shall we fit them for the matrimonial
market?"  It is impossible for parents to have
such a principle of action as this, and not let their
daughters find it out. Whether they avow it or not,and in very few cases, probably, has it been avowed,
-the drift of the tendency will reveal itself.  For
this reason many girls have come to set marriage before them as the goal of all their aspirations. Their
plans and aspirations have hardly reached further than
the wedding-day.  Marriage is but an incident in
the life of a young man; it is one of many things
toward which his thoughts are directed.  With the
young woman it is often the single point of the future
toward which all her thoughts converge.  This has
not indeed always been the case.  There are in
society many honorable exceptions to this rule, many
young women who refuse to accept marriage as the
be-all and the end-all of their existence.  And so
far as the false view has prevailed, I am not disposed
to blame the young women for it. They have sim



2 14  Plailn ThZoZghts on the Art of Living.
ply accepted the destiny to which society has assigned
them.  It would have been wonderful if they had
reached any higher conclusions than they have. This
notion about women is one of the relics of barbarism.
It grows out of the theory that woman is simply an
appendage to man; that she lives only for him; that
she is not to have any interests or aims of her own.
Christianity has already done much to rectify this
fatal error, but much more remains to be done. jWe
are beginning to find out that women have souls of
their own, and that they have as much right as men
to intellectual and moral development; that the wife
is not called to live solely for her husband, any more
than the husband is called to live solely for his wife.
And this discovery needs to be published, for many
have not yet heard of it. i
Keep it before your minds, then, young women,
that1rmarriage is not the ultimate end. )he main
thing is to live well, and toward that all your thought
should be directed. To qualify yourselves by study,
by self-discipline, by courageous endeavor, by patient
waiting, by labor, and by prayer for earnest and noble
living, - this is to be your aim. To develop all that
is best and divinest in your nature, to make yourselves
what God meant you to be, and then to achieve somewhat of good in the world by the means which you
are best qualified to use, — this is to be the end of




Marriage.                2   5
all your striving. Do not get into the way of supposing that yours is only a related life; that it has
no positive importance, no independent aims. I have
no doubt that God has so constituted human beings
that they will be happier and reach a better development in wedlock than out of wedlock; always providing that all the conditions of true wedlock are supplied; that the union is not a mere matter of convenience or romance, but a true union of kindred
hearts. And therefore I would give you no counsel
which should lead you to despise wedlock. No other
of the institutions of society is of greater worth than
this, but the fact remains that men and women are
of more account than their most sacred institutions.
No other event of your lives will be more important
than your marriage; all I ask you to remember is,
that it is only an event of life, and not the end of living. What I desire for you is, that you may be fitted
to live usefully and happily in any condition; so that
if you shall be called to live in wedlock, you may be
able to discharge nobly all the duties of that relation,
as well as all the other duties that belong to the most
fruitful and beautiful life; and so that if, on the other
hand, you shall be called to live singly, your life in
that condition may not be aimless and inconsequent,
- a melody broken off at its sweetest passage, - but
a clear, sweet, completed strain, filling the hearts of
all who hear it with hope and thankfulness.




2 i6  Pla in Thzoughts on tIhe Art of Living.
We have said enough, perhaps, about the false
views of marriage. Let us try to find the true philosophy concerning it, and the right way of regarding
it. And first, let it be remembered that reason and
affection both have a voice in forming this relation.
Reason may sometimes put its veto upon affection,
but it must never be permitted to settle the question
without affection.  Neither unreasoning passion nor
cool calculation are competent to decide this important issue. The first question to be asked is, of course,
whether there is a sincere and a strong attachment;
then the question must follow, whether, all things
considered, this attachment ought to be cherished
and consummated. Reason should be allowed a fair
hearing in this matter. Impulse must not bear complete sway. It seems to me that most of the errors
that have been committed with regard to marriage
would have been avoided if this principle had
been fairly understood and acted upon. Sometimes
marriages have been matters of calculation and expediency, into which no element of true affection has
entered; sometimes, and perhaps oftener, they have
been affairs of impulse and sentiment, in which reason
was not consulted, or, if consulted, her counsel was
spurned. This is where the novels have done the mischief. They have taught that, when once a passion
is awakened, it must have its end in marriage, though




Marriage.                2 17
reason and conscience and every law human and
divine stand in the way protesting. The truth is, that
when we find ourselves strongly drawn by the attractions of passion we must stop and rigidly question
them, refusing to be led into lives of misery by the
impulses of our hearts.
Take a plain instance: A young woman may find
in her heart a strong affection for a young man who
is addicted to drink. There may be many excellent
and attractive qualities about him, upon which her
heart fastens; and yet her reason will tell her that
she had better not link herself for life with an intemperate man. Her heart may urge that she may thus
be able to save him; but reason will reply that the
cases in which this is accomplished are very rare,
that there are nine chances in ten that she will make
shipwreck of herself and fail to rescue him.  The
young woman who refuses to listen in such a case
to the voice of reason, but follows the leadings of
passion, makes a terrible and irreparable mistake.
Not only in such'cases as this, but in many other
cases which cannot be mentioned here, the better
judgment should be heard. For less cause than this
passion must sometimes be denied. There may be
various reasons, - not in disparity of wealth or station, - not in anything exterior to the person,  but
in incompatibility of temper, in divergence of aim
I0




218   Plain Thoug-hts on the Art of Livi'ng.
and purpose, which will forbid you to follow the leadings of your hearts. Reason will tell you that there
ought to be substantial unity in views and sympathies
between the married pair, and you had better heed
the voice of reason, whatever affection may say. It
is not always necessary that the temperaments should
be alike, or the outward forms of character; but in
fundamentals there should be perfect harmony. "Can
two walk together except they be agreed?"
The person with whom your life is joined ought to
be a worker.  Insist on that. I care not who he is,
or who she is, what the natural gifts may be, what
the accomplishments or graces, if he or she is too
proud or too rich or too lazy to work, you had better
look further.  It is not of so much consequence
what kind of work it is, - whether it be labor with
the brain or the fingers or the strong arm,  only
that it be some honest and useful calling. It is a sin
to spend life in idleness; and it is equally a sin to
support any able-bodied person of either sex in a life
of idleness.
It seems to me, too, that personal religion is one
important constituent of happy wedlock.  Perhaps
you think I say this in a kind of professional way,
because it is the business of the parson to lug in
religion somewhere in his treatment of every subject.
Not so, young friends. It is the utterance of a deep




Marriage.                  219
conviction, for which good reasons can be given.
When human beings are about to come into new
relations, and to assume new and grave responsibilities, they can do no wiser thing than to seek wisdom
and grace from the Great Teacher. This relation is
one of the most important that we ever assume;
the responsibilities and duties connected with it are
among the most weighty and delicate that are ever
placed in our hands, and if we need the grace of
Christ in anything, we need it in the manifold cares
and labors of this sphere of life..We are all selfish beings; we gravitate insensibly
toward the objects of our own desire, without much
reference to the desires of others.  It is from  this
source that all domestic difficulties arise. There is
no possibility of happiness in this relation, without
an earnest and controlling purpose of self-denial.
You will need the help of the Great Master to enable you to preserve an even temper in all the little
difficulties that arise; to guard your tongues against
petulance and severity of speech; to ke.ep the stream
of life flowing smoothly and sweetly.  Life consists
mainly of these little things. It is from little words
and deeds of selfishness that domestic misery springs.
It is from little self-denials in word and in deed that
domestic happiness flows.
But there is a higher consideration.  Friendship




220 Plain Thzoughts on the Art of Living.
never exists between two persons unless there is
something in which they agree and sympathize.
Just in proportion as the objects in which they sympathize are high and noble, will their friendship be
pure and lasting. For this reason, those who are to
be joined together in a lifelong friendship should seek
to strengthen that friendship by a common interest
in the highest and most sacred objects. And because there are no objects so high and sacred as
those for which Christians labor, it follows that there
can be no bond of friendship so strong as a common
interest in the truths and the labors and the blessings
of Christianity. Though there are many husbands
and wives who live happily together, and are kind
and faithful to each other, who are not Christians,
yet, doubtless, the bond of union between them
would be strengthened, their joy in each other
would be increased, their love for each other would
be tenderer and purer, if they were able to kneel
together in the sanctuary of the happy home and
tell the story of their thankfulness and their contrition and their common need to the Father in
heaven.
This is not the whole truth about this subject,
young men and women, but I hope I have told you
nothing but the truth.  For the rest you must seek
counsel of Him who is the Truth. To him be all




fl<atrinage.            221 
your affairs committed. From  him  may all sweet
influences come to guide and hallow your destiny!
May the light and joy which his presence can give
illuminate the home where you shall dwell; and may
His blessing, making you rich and bringing you no
sorrow, abide upon you and yours forever!




XV.
THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE
MATTER.
T HE pleasant task of the writer is nearly finished.
The young men and women who have had the
patience to follow him in these sober studies will
meet him no longer as "guide and philosopher";
the better title of "friend" he hopes still to wear.
He has applied himself with more or less thoroughness to several of the problems which young people
are meeting every day, and has endeavored to give
them, not only maxims for their guidance, but reasons for the maxims.  It has been his aim to lead
his readers to examine the foundations of things, -
to think less of rules than of principles. And yet
(let me get out of that egotistical third person as
quickly as possible), I don't want you to suppose
that principles are safe and sufficient guides. Not
abstract truth, but vitalized truth, nourishes and satisfies the soul. All vegetable and animal substances
are composed of four simple elemental gases. The
most luxurious bill of fare, reduced to its lowest
terms, is only hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon.




The Coinclsion of the fWhole Matter.  223
And yet it would not be possible by any skilful combinations of these gases to produce substances that
would answer as food. Life must take these elements and organize them before they will. nourish
the body.  Just so it is with abstract truths and
virtues. Justice, charity, veracity, purity, considered
merely as abstractions, have but little influence in
moulding the characters of men.  It is only when
these simple elements are incarnated in a person,
and endowed with life, that they become forces in
society. There have been many wise teachers, but
only one perfect example. Many abstract truths and
virtues have been announced and vindicated, but
there has been but one person in whom they have
all been incarnated, - only one who could truly say,
"I AM the way, and the truth, and the life."
By this time you have found out that this last talk
of ours is going to be about religion. And I am by
no means disposed to believe that the subject will
be tiresome or uninteresting to any of you.  My
acquaintance with young men and women has led
me to believe that they are quite as willing to talk
about this matter as any other, provided the conversation is carried on in a sensible and natural way.
What I have said already has prepared you to
understand what I mean by religion. In my theology it is all comprehended in knowing, trusting, and




224  Pdzain TioughZts on the Art of Livinzg.
following the Lord Jesus Christ.  To know him is
the whole of religious knowledge; to trust him is
the whole of faith; to follow him is the whole of
duty. "'In Him was Life, and the Life was the
Light of Men."  That Life I want you all to share.
In that Light I desire that you all may walk. Now
for some of the reasons why you need Christ for
your Master and your Friend.
The first one is found in the strength of your appetites and passions, and the insufficiency of any
merely natural force to hold them in check. Need
I say to you, young people, that just here, within the
domain of the animal appetites, your fiercest foes
are lurking? Do you not see, every day, those who
should have preserved your respect and confidence
going down to ruin by this road? Do you not feel
within you daily the spur of propensities that threaten to run away with you? It is in youth, if ever,
that men become drunkards and profligates and debauchees. Rarely do they fall into these snares in
middle life or in old age. By what power shall these
riotous tendencies be controlled? Shall we rely upon
the laws and teachings of morality? Shall we define
the boundaries within which the indulgence of these
appetites is right, and beyond which it is wrong, and
then attempt to keep within the boundaries? This
is all proper and necessary. It is of the utmost im



The ConciLsio;n of the Whole Matter.  225
portance that we have clear notions of what is right
and what is wrong. But, unfortunately, people do not
always agree in their judgments of right and wrong.
The standards of morality vary. The book of Leviticus in the New Testament, for which one good
old lady wished, was never written. And even if
there were a perfect code of moral laws, divinely
enacted, which covered every possible case of transgression, it would not be likely to be obeyed. You
know that commandments of this sort are always
irksome. You do not like to be domineered, even
by law. So I say that moral laws and teachings,
while they are useful in pointing out the way of rectitude, are not always effectual means of keeping you
in the way.
The moral law is simply the rule of right, and has,
therefore, a degree of force with men, as being the
expression of practical truth which commends itself
to their consciences. But the law is fortified with
sanctions. Rewards are offered to those who obey it.
Penalties are threatened against those who disobey it.
If, then, the law of itself, considered merely as an
expression of practical truth, will not keep you temperate and pure, may not these rewards and penalties
prove effectual? If I could show you all the advantages of virtue and self-control, and all the ruinous
consequences of self-indulgence, would not that exI0o                          0




226   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
hibition deter you from  transgression?  It might
have an influence in that direction, certainly; but
that it would not be effectual is sufficiently proved
by facts of every-day occurrence.  The streets are
full of illustrations of both sides of this question,of the rewards of virtue, as well as the penalties of
vice, - and yet how many there be who do not heed
them. And if these rewards and penalties, meted
out on earth before the eyes of men, are not sufficient to keep them in the right way, it is not likely
that promises of blessing or threatenings of cursing
in the future life will have this effect.
But if the moral law, with its sanctions, is not
enough to restrain human beings from vice, may not
a proper cultivation of the intellect secure this end?
If the reason is rightly developed, will it not rule the
animal propensities? How was it with the pupils of
Socrates? The noblest and the wisest of all the
heathens was he. No teacher save the Teacher sent
from God has ever equalled him. And yet, Critias
and Alcibiades, who listened with delight to his wonderful words, and followed him from place to place, as
disciples and admirers, were the lewdest and the vilest
of all the young men of corrupt Athens.  Nearer
home than Greece, and nearer our time than the age
of Socrates, we may find examples enough of the
same truth, that intellectual culture is not an effect



The Conclusion of the Whole Matter.  227
ual safeguard against vicious indulgences. Many of
the most learned and brilliant men of our own nation
have been the bond-slaves of vice. One could almost
say that, among our cultivated men, vice is the rule
and virtue the exception. I would not wish to be
understood as saying that intellectual training predisposes to vice; on the contrary, I believe that it
helps to restrain men from  vice. These men, of
whom we have spoken, are not impure and intemperate because of their culture, but in spite of it.
But they furnish us evidence that the development
of the mind is not a sufficient guaranty against excesses of the animal nature.
The teachings of morality, the sanctions of the
law, the culture of the mind, are all insufficient to
hold in check your baser passions. All of them
help in this direction, but you cannot rely upon
them to do the work. There is only one power that
is strong enough to accomplish it perfectly and in all
cases. That is the very power of which we spoke at
first, - the power of the divine life manifested to the
world in the life of Christ, and shared only by those
who have fellowship with him. Those who live in
this fellowship, who are linked with him in their
daily lives by a close and sweet communion, find
their whole natures pervaded by a sanctifying influence, so gentle, yet so strong, that it hushes the




228  Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
clamorings of their lower propensities, and makes
them pure even as Christ is pure. Men are not
saved from such sin as this by a philosophy or a law,
but only by a Life.  This is no mysterious thing.
The same effect is produced in a less perfect way by
human companionships. Close friendship with one
whose heart is pure and whose aims are high will
do more toward purifying a young man's heart and
keeping him from vice, than all the words of all the
philosophers and all the laws of all the law-makers.
A subtile spiritual influence flows from the one heart
to the other, by which the whole life is cleansed and
exalted. The effect produced by friendship with
Christ is the same, only far more powerful. I do
not commend you, therefore, to a creed or a catechism; I commend you to Christ. Choose him for
your nearest friend; admit him into all your confidences; speak to him often in secret places; let
him be with you as you go about your daily business, that he may whisper to you in the pauses of
your work his words of truth and love.  And so
abiding in him, the lust of the flesh shall have no
power over you, the chains of the worst tyrant that
ever oppressed you will be broken, and you will rejoice in that large liberty with which Christ makes
his people free.
But it is not only as a remedy for the frailties and




The Conclusion of the Wthoe Matter.   229
disorders of your natures, but also as a reinforcement
of all that is good and beautiful in your natures, that I
would have you share this divine life. You are strong
and active now; the forces of life are all harnessed
for their best work; existence with you is at springtide; the body is healthy, the mind fresh and fertile,
the heart warm, the spirits elastic; nothing seems
wanting to your present and permanent enjoyment,
and yet there is just one element which you can introduce into your lives which will add greatly to the
strength and beauty of your character, and that is this
element of divine inspiration which flows into the heart
and mind through fellowship with Christ. Wise though
you may be in the intuitions of a pure heart, this will
add to your wisdom; happy as you are, this will diminish your happiness not one jot; nay, it will augment it
a thousand-fold and multiply it in an infinite progression; however noble you may be, this will exalt you;
however good, this will make you better; however
strong, physically, intellectually, or morally, this will
help you to husband your strength, and to expend it
so that it shall accomplish the greatest results. This
is the very thing you need to render your lives synimetrical and perfect.
It is just as if Raphael or Titian, or another of the
old masters of painting, should pass through the studio
of a young artist, and, looking at a picture upon the




230   Plain Thoughts on the Art of Living.
easel, should say: "There is much that is beautiful in
this painting; the colors are warm and life-like, the
perspective is good, the drawing accurate, and yet it
lacks something. I cannot tell you what it lacks, but
I can show you.  Give me the brush and the palette."
And with a few strokes so delicately laid on that he
himself can hardly tell how it is done, the old master
supplies what is lacking; and as the young artist
looks, he sees his picture under the hand of the other
transformed into a new and wonderful beauty.  It
would not have been remembered long, if it had not
received these few touches. Now it can never be forgotten. An inspiration of genius has been breathed
into it, and it shall be a treasure to all time.  So shall
that great Master, who paints the lilies and the violets,
and tints the sky at eventide, retouch your lives to
finer issues. Let his skilful hand give form to your
activities and color, to your thoughts, and the work of
your life shall be beauty and joy forever.
Have you ever heard an orchestra play the accompaniment of one of those grand arias of Handel or
Mendelssohn? It was very beautiful, the instrumentation was perfect, the harmony was exquisite; and
yet it seemed to lack for a definite idea; there was a
certain vagueness in it, till suddenly the voice burst
forth, and then you understood the meaning of the
music; under the spell of the glorious melody the




The Conclusion of the Whole Matter.  23I
wavering chords were marshalled into harmonious
movement. That was the key that unlocked the riddle of the harmony. That was the idea which you
missed. Without the melody the accompaniment was
a rambling and incoherent utterance. With the melody it was a clear and beautiful expression.  So
though your life may discourse many eloquent notes
and passages, yet its full meaning is never disclosed
till the melody of the divine love flows through it,
blending all its tones into one pure stream of sweet
music.
It may be that you have never placed so high an
estimate as this on the religious life. You may never
have thought of it as adding essentially to the true
manliness of your character. Some of you may even
have supposed that such a life could only be lived by
the sacrifice of much that is heartiest and noblest in
your natures. I am sorry to say that you have had too
much reason to think so. Many good people who, I
have no doubt, really enjoy religion, act as if they suffered it, rather. They never talk about religion in natural tones; the moment that subject is introduced, they
begin to drawl and whine and end perhaps by crying.
Others there are who act as if they were ashamed to
have it known that they are Christians, who confess
Christ very much as they would confess petty larceny,
with downcast visage and stammering utterance.  I




232   Plain Thoztg/ts on the Art of Living.
would not have you think that these people are not
Christians, for many of them are; but the outward
expression of their religion falsifies its inner reality.
They are not Christians because of their dolefulness or
their bashfulness; they are Christians in spite of them;
and these are some of the worst blemishes that rest
upon their Christian character. There is no earthly
reason why people should always weep when they
begin to talk about religion; no reason why they
should talk about it in any other than the ordinary
tones of conversation; above all, no reason why they
should be ashamed to talk about it. The cant and the
snivel which disgust you are gross disfigurements of
Christ's religion. True Christianity is not expressed
by set phrases, nor long faces, nor black garments, nor
drawling prayers. It does not always walk along the
street with tread demure and grave, as if it were going
to a funeral.  It debars from no harmless mirth, no
innocent play.
Remember, young people, the true definition of
Christianity.  It is simply fellowship with Christ. He
who is the friend and follower of Christ is the true
Christian.  Must it not be that fellowship with one
like him, -nay, there is none like him on earth nor
in heaven, — that fellowship with HIM will dignify and
exalt you?   Study his character.  Read the record
of his matchless words and his spotless life, the story




The Conclusion of the Whole Matter.  233
of his sacrificial death, and tell me if you can afford
to reject his proffered friendship. Before that Life all
the world has bowed down in reverence.  Men who
have denied his divinity have made haste to declare
that no life that has been lived in the flesh is at all
comparable with it. There is no single element of
moral beauty or grandeur which does not appear in it
conspicuously. In this character, dignity and grace,
majesty and condescension, wisdom and love, force and
gentleness, are sweetly blended; in this Life "mercy
and truth have met together, righteousness and peace
have kissed each other." He who aspires to be a hero
can find no better teacher; he who would learn true
courteousness can study no better model; he who desires to become master of himself, or who covets the
power of influencing others, must sit at the feet of
Jesus.
But you are called not only to personal culture, but
to benevolent work. Some of you believe that this is
the work that pays best; that the only good one gets
out of the world is the good he does in it. Hoarded
wealth will soon be scattered; titles and honors that
are won by self-seeking are the thin varnish of an empty shell; pleasure pursued as an end flies faster than
the swiftest can follow; nothing will remain after you
are gone, but the good you have done. And that will
remain forever.  Every impulse that is given to the




234  Plain Thou'ghts on the Art of Living.
cause of righteousness will be felt to the end of time,
- ay, throughout the eternity which has no end.
Every truth that is cleared and published to the world
dispels forever part of the world's darkness, adds to
the world's light a flame that is unquenchable. Every
falsehood that is stamped out, every wrong that is
righted, diminishes by just so much the burden and
the pain under which the whole creation groaneth and
travaileth until now. You cannot even speak a kindly word, you cannot even give a cup of cold water for
love's sake, without setting in motion influences that
will keep in motion forever. And how much good yet
remains to be done I How much darkness there is to
be scattered, how much evil to be rooted out! The
heathen are still in a great majority; whole lands,
whole races, are plunged in the grossest degradation.
And one who wants to do good need not travel so far
as the heathen lands to find work to do. Here, among
us, swarming about us, are needy to be clothed and
fed, sick to be nursed, prisoners to be visited, ignorant
ones to be taught, sinners to be saved. False standards
of honesty and purity are to be broken down; the
vanities of fashion are to be scourged out of existence;
the bad infidelity that disbelieves in justice, and scoffs
at the Golden Rule, is to be exterminated; the superstition and bigotry that disfigure the characters of the
good are to be banished; the aims of men are to be




The Conclusion of the Whole iMatter.  235
elevated; their tastes are to be elevated; their range
of thought broadened, their sympathies enlarged, their
aspirations purified.  If you would do good, young
men and women, here is work for you. Against all
these evils you are to bear calm but earnest testimony;
and when the shock of conflict comes, you must not
shrink from girding on the sword and smiting them.
In behalf of all that is honest and pure and of good
report you must speak and work, and, if needs be,
fight.
If now to this work you will consecrate your lives,
what more fitting companionship can you have than
that of Him who went about doing good? If you need
his inspiration to enable you to hold in check your
passions, if you need it to supplement and crown
your manhood and womanhood, you need it not less
in taking up this purpose that you will live not for yourselves chiefly, but for truth and humanity. It will be
easy for you to learn to do good, if Christ is your teacher. If you will study the tenderness with which he
deals with the weak and the wayward, the patience
with which he endures the stupid and the frivolous,
the firmness with which he withstands selfish men and
hypocrites; the sympathy with which he wins doubters
and haters to lives of truth and love, — you will learn
in time to imitate the intonations of that voice which
spake as never man spake, and to draw men after you,




236  Plain Tzoughts on the Art of Living.
even as he drew them, into the kingdom of heaven.
And if you will go and stand by him in the home of
poverty where he dwelt, in the judgment hall where
he was scourged, in the garden where the strong heart
broke under the burden of the world's sin, on the
heights of Calvary, where his life-blood was poured
out, you will learn how to deny yourselves and to suffer for the sake of doing good; you will not find it
hard to still the clamorings of avarice or ambition, and
to consecrate yourselves wholly to his great work,
though it lead you, as it led him, into poverty and
obscurity and scorn.
These are not the only reasons why you need Christ
for your friend, but they are enough and good enough,
are they not? Will you not agree with me now, before
we part, that they are sufficient reasons, and act accordingly? I don't like to let you go until this matter is
settled. I don't like to think that any of you are going to reject his proffered friendship.  Those who
have trusted him have found him the kindest, the
truest, the dearest of friends. You would love him,
too, if you knew him. I want you to know him.
And so when I unclasp your hands in parting, if I
could place them, every one, in the hand of this Divine
Master and Friend, there would be more of joy than
sorrow in the dear old word Good by!
Cambridge: Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.