How to Get on in the World

M >> Major A.R. Calhoon >> How to Get on in the World

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Cheerfulness also accompanies patience, which is one of the main
conditions of happiness and success in life. "He that will be
served," says George Herbert, "must be patient." It was said of the
cheerful and patient King Alfred that "good fortune accompanied him
like a gift of God." Marlborough's expectant calmness was great, and
a principal secret of his success as a general. "Patience will
overcome all things," he wrote to Godolphin, in 1702. In the midst of
a great emergency, while baffled and opposed by his allies, he said,
"Having done all that is possible, we should submit with patience."

One of the chiefest of blessings is Hope, the most common of
possessions; for, as Thales that philosopher said, "Even those who
have nothing else have hope." Hope is the great helper of the poor.
It has even been styled "the poor man's bread." It is also the
sustainer and inspirer of great deeds. It is recorded of Alexander
the Great that, when he succeeded to the throne of Macedon, he gave
away among his friends the greater part of the estates which his
father had left him; and when Perdiccas asked him what he reserved
for himself, Alexander answered, "The greatest possession of all--
Hope!"

The pleasures of memory, however great, are stale compared with those
of hope; for hope is the parent of all effort and endeavor; and
"every gift of noble origin is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual
breath." It may be said to be the moral engine that moves the world
and keeps it in action; and at the end of all there stands before us
what Robertson of Ellon styled "The Great Hope."

The qualities of the strong self-reliant man are sometimes
accompanied by a brusqueness of manner that leas others to misjudge
them. As Knox was retiring from the queen's presence on one occasion
he overheard one of the royal attendants say to another, "He is not
afraid!" Turning round upon them, he said: "And why should the
pleasing face of a gentleman frighten me? I have looked on the faces
of angry men, and yet have not been afraid beyond measure." When the
Reformer, worn out by excess of labor and anxiety, was at length laid
to his rest, the regent, looking down into the open grave, exclaimed
in words which made a strong impression from their aptness and truth--
"There lies he who never feared the face of man!"

Luther also was thought by some to be a mere compound of violence and
ruggedness. But, as in the case of Knox, the times in which he lived
were rude and violent, and the work he had to do could scarcely have
been accomplished with gentleness and suavity. To rouse Europe from
its lethargy, he had to speak and write with force, and even
vehemence. Yet Luther's vehemence was only in words. His apparently
rude exterior covered a warm heart. In private life he was gentle,
loving and affectionate. He was simple and homely, even to
commonness. Fond of all common pleasures and enjoyments, he was any
thing but an austere man or a bigot; for he was hearty, genial, and
even "jolly." Luther was the common people's hero in his lifetime,
and he remains so in Germany to this day.

Samuel Johnson was rude and often gruff in manner. But he had been
brought up in a rough school. Poverty in early life had made him
acquainted with strange companions. He had wandered in the streets
with Savage for nights together, unable between them to raise money
enough to pay for a bed. When his indomitable courage and industry at
length secured for him a footing in society, he still bore upon him
the scars of his early sorrow and struggles. He was by nature strong
and robust, and his experience made him unaccommodating and self-
asserting. When he was once asked why he was not invited to dine out
as Garrick was, he answered, "Because great lords and ladies do not
like to have their mouths stopped;" and Johnson was a notorious
mouth-stopper, though what he said was always worth listening to.

Johnson's companions spoke of him as "Ursa Major;" but, as Goldsmith
generously said of him, "No man alive has a more tender heart; he has
nothing of the bear about him but his skin." The kindliness of
Johnson's nature was shown on one occasion by the manner in which he
assisted a supposed lady in crossing Fleet street. He gave her his
arm and led her across, not observing that she was in liquor at the
time. But the spirit of the act was not the less kind on that
account. On the other hand, the conduct of the book-seller on whom
Johnson once called to solicit employment, and who, regarding his
athletic but uncouth person, told him he had better "go buy a
porter's knot and carry trunks," in howsoever bland tones the advice
might have been communicated, was simply brutal.

While captiousness of manner, and the habit of disputing and
contradicting everything said, is chilling and repulsive, the
opposite habit of assenting to, and sympathizing with, every
statement made, or emotion expressed, is almost equally disagreeable.
It is unmanly, and is felt to be dishonest. "It may seem difficult,"
says Richard Sharp, "to steer always between bluntness and plain-
dealing, between giving merited praise and lavishing indiscriminate
flattery; but it is very easy--good humor, kind heartedness and
perfect simplicity, being all that are requisite to do what is right
in the right way."

At the same time many are unpolite, not because they mean to be so,
but because they are awkward, and perhaps know no better. Thus, when
Gibbon had published the second and third volumes of his "Decline and
Fall," the Duke of Cumberland met him one day, and accosted him with,
"How do you do, Mr. Gibbon? I see you are always _at it_ in the old
way--_scribble, scribble, scribble_!" The duke probably intended to
pay the author a compliment, but did not know how better to do it
than in this blunt and apparently rude way.

Again, many persons are thought to be stiff, reserved and proud, when
they are only shy. Shyness is characteristic of most people of
Teutonic race. It has been styled "the English mania," but it
pervades, to a greater or less degree, all the Northern nations. The
average Frenchman or Irishman excels the average Englishman, German
or American in courtesy and ease of manner, simply because it is his
nature. They are more social and less self-dependent than men of
Teutonic origin, more demonstrative and less reticent; they are more
communicative, conversational, and freer in their intercourse with
each other in all respects; while men of German race are
comparatively stiff, reserved, shy and awkward. At the same time, a
people may exhibit ease, gayety, and sprightliness of character, and
yet possess no deeper qualities calculated to inspire respect. They
may have every grace of manner, and yet be heartless, frivolous,
selfish. The character may be on the surface only, and without any
solid qualities for a foundation.

There can be no doubt as to which of the two sorts of people--the
easy and graceful, or the stiff and awkward--it is most agreeable to
meet either in business, in society, or in the casual intercourse of
life. Which make the fastest friends, the truest men of their word,
the most conscientious performers of their duty, is an entirely
different matter.

As an epitome of good sound advice as to getting on in the world
there has probably been nothing written so forcible, quaint and full
of common sense a the following preface to an old Pennsylvanian
Almanac, entitled "Poor Richard Improved," by the great philosopher,
Benjamin Franklin. It is homely, simple, sensible and practical--a
condensation of the proverbial wit, wisdom and every-day philosophy,
useful at all times, and essentially so in the present day:

"COURTEOUS READER--I have heard that nothing gives an author so great
pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted by others. Judge,
then, how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going
to relate to you. I stopped my horse lately where a great number of
people were collected at an auction of merchants' goods. The hour of
the sale not being come, they were conversing on the badness of the
times, and one of the company called to a plain, clean old man with
white locks, 'Pray, Father Abraham, what think you of the times? Will
not these heavy taxes quite ruin the country? How shall we ever be
able to pay them? What would you advise us to do?' Father Abraham
stood up, and replied: 'If you would have my advice I will give it
you in short, for, A word to the wise is enough, as poor Richard
says.' They joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and gathering
round him, he proceeded as follows:

"'Friends, the taxes are indeed very heavy, and if those laid on by
the government were the only ones we had to pay we might more easily
discharge them; but we have many others, and much more grievous to
some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times
as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly; and from
these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing
an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something
may be done for us. God helps them that help themselves, as poor
Richard says.

"'I. It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people
one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service; but
idleness taxes many of use more; sloth, by bringing on diseases,
absolutely shortens life. Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than
labor wears; while, The used key is always bright, as poor Richard
says. But, Dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that
is the stuff life is made of, as poor Richard says. How much more
than is necessary do we spend in sleep! forgetting that, The sleeping
fox catches no poultry; and that, There will be sleeping in the
grave, as poor Richard says.

"'If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be,
as poor Richard says, the greatest prodigality; since, as he
elsewhere tells us, Lost time is never found again; and, What we call
time enough always proves little enough. Let us, then, be up and be
doing, and doing to the purpose; so by diligence shall we do more,
and with less perplexity. Sloth makes all things difficult, but
industry all easy; and, He that riseth late must trot all day, and
shall scarce overtake his business at night; while, Laziness travels
so slowly that poverty soon overtakes him. Drive thy business, let
not that drive thee; and Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man
healthy, wealthy and wise, as poor Richard says.

"'So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times? We may make
these times better if we bestir ourselves. Industry need not risk,
and, He that lives upon hopes will die fasting. There are no gains
without pains; then, Help, hands, for I have no lands; or, if I have,
they are smartly taxed. He that hath a trade, hath an estate; and, He
that hath a calling, hath an office of profit and honor, as poor
Richard says; but then the trade must be worked at, and the calling
followed, or neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay
our taxes. If we are industrious we shall never starve; for, At the
working man's house, hunger looks in, but dares not enter. Nor will
the bailiff or the constable enter; for, Industry pays debts, while
despair increaseth them. What though you have found no treasure, nor
has any rich relation left you a legacy? Diligence is the mother of
good luck, and God gives all things to industry. Then, plough deep,
while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and keep. Work
while it is called to-day, for you know not how much you may be
hindered to-morrow. One to-day is worth two to-morrows, as poor
Richard says; and, farther, never leave that till to-morrow that you
can do to-day. If you were a servant, would you not be shamed that a
good master would catch you idle? Are you then your own master, be
ashamed to catch yourself idle, when there is to be so much done for
yourself, your family, your country, and your king. Handle your tools
without mittens; remember that the cat in gloves catches no mice, as
poor Richard says. It is true there is much to be done, and perhaps
your are weak-handed; but stick to it steadily, and you will see
great effects; for, Constant dropping wears away stones; and, By
diligence and patience the mouse at in two the cable; and, Little
strokes fell great oaks.

"'Methinks I hear some of you say, "Must a man afford himself no
leisure?" I will tell thee, my friend, what poor Richard says--Employ
thy time well if thou meanest to gain leisure; and since thou are not
sure of a minute, throw not away an hour. Leisure is time for doing
something useful. This leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the
lazy man never; for a life of leisure and a life of laziness are two
things. Many, without labor, would live by their wits only, but they
break for want of stock; whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty,
and respect. Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The diligent
spinner has a large shift; and, Now I have a sheep and a cow,
everybody bids me goodmorrow.

"'II. But with our industry we must likewise be steady, settled and
careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, and not trust
to others; for, as poor Richard says--

"'I never saw an oft-removed tree,
Nor yet an oft-removed family,
That throve so well as those that settled be.

And again--Three removes as bad as a fire. And again--Keep thy
shop, and thy shop will keep thee. And again--If you would have your
business done, go; if not, send. And again--

"'He that by the plough would thrive
Himself must either hold or drive.

And again--The eye of a master will do more work than both his hands.
And again--Want of care does us more damage than want of knowledge.
And again--Not to oversee workmen is to leave them your purse open.
Trusting too much to others' care is the ruin of many; for, in the
affairs of this world, men are saved, not by faith, but by the want
of it. But a man's own care is profitable; for if you would have a
faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself. A little
neglect may cause great mischief; For want of a nail the shoe was
lost; for want of a shoe the horse was lost; for want of a horse the
rider was lost, being overtaken and slain by the enemy--all for want
of a little care about a horse-shoe nail.

"'III. So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one's own
business; but to these we must add frugality, if we would make our
industry more certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how to
save as he gets, keep his nose to the grindstone all his life, and
die not worth a groat at last. A fat kitchen makes a lean will; and

"'Many estates are spent in the getting,
Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting,
And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.

If you would be wealthy, think of saving as well as of getting. The
Indies have not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are greater than
her incomes.

"'Away, then, with your expensive follies, and you will not then have
so much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable
families; for

"'Women and wine, game and deceit,
Make the wealth small and the want great.

"'And further--What maintains one vice would bring up two children.
You may think, perhaps, that a little tea, or a little punch, now and
then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little
entertainment now and then, can be no great matter; but remember--
Many a little makes a nickel. Beware of little expenses--A small leak
will sink a great ship, as poor Richard says. And moreover--Fools
make feasts, and wise men eat them.

"' Here you are all got together at this sale of fineries and nick-
nacks. You call them goods; but if you do not take care they will
prove evils to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and
perhaps they may for less than they cost; but if you have no occasion
for them they must be dear to you. Remember what poor Richard says--
Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy
necessaries. And again--At a great pennyworth pause awhile. He means
that the cheapness is apparent only, and not real; or the bargain, by
straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm than good;
for in another place he says--Many have been ruined by buying good
pennyworths. Again--It is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of
repentance; and yet this folly is practiced every day at auctions,
for want of minding the almanac. Many a one, for the sake of finery
on the back, has gone with a hungry belly and half-starved his
family. Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen
fire, as poor Richard says. These are not the necessaries of life;
they can scarcely be called the conveniences; and yet, only because
they look pretty, how many want to have them! By these, and other
extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to
borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who, through
industry and frugality, have maintained their standing; in which case
it appears plainly that, A ploughman on his legs is higher than a
gentleman on his knees, as poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a
small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of; they
think it is day and will never be night; that a little to be spent
out of so much is not worth minding; but, Always taking out of the
meal-tub, and never putting in, soon comes to be the bottom, as poor
Richard says; and then, When the well is dry, they know the worth of
water. But this they might have know before if they had taken his
advice--If they would know the value of money, go and try to borrow
some; for, He that goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing, as poor Richard
says; and, indeed, so does he that lends to such people when he goes
to get his own in again. Poor dick further advises, and says:

"'Fond pride or dress is sure a very curse,
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.

And again--Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great deal more
saucy. When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more,
that your appearance may be all of a piece; but poor Dick says, It is
easier to suppress the first desire, than to satisfy all that follow
it. And it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for the
frog to swell in order to equal the ox.

"'Vessels large may venture more,
But little boats should keep near shore.

It is, however, a folly soon punished; for, as poor Richard says,
Pride that dines on vanity, sups on contempt. Pride breakfasted with
plenty, dined with poverty, and supped with infamy. And, after all,
of what use is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked,
so much is suffered? It cannot promote health, nor ease pain; it
makes no increase of merit in the person; it creates envy; it hastens
misfortune.

"'But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superfluities!
We are offered, by the terms of this sale, six months credit; and
that, perhaps, has induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot
spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine without it. But, ah!
think what you do when you run in debt; you give to another power
over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed
to see your creditor; you will be in fear when you speak to him; you
will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and, by degrees, come to
lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for, The
second vice is lying, the first is running in debt, as poor Richard
says; and again, to the same purpose, Lying rides upon debt's back . . .

"'And now, to conclude--Experience keeps a dear school, but fools
will learn in no other, as poor Richard says, and scarce in that;
for, it is true, We may give advice, but we cannot give conduct.
However, remember this--They that will not be counseled, cannot be
helped; and further, that, If you will not hear Reason, she will
surely rap your knuckles, as poor Richard says.'

"Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it and
approved the doctrine; and immediately practiced the contrary, just
as if it had been a common sermon, for the auctioneer opened, and
they began to buy extravagantly. I found the good man had thoroughly
studied my almanacs, and digested all I had dropt on these topics
during the course of twenty-five years."

The End.

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