Comfort in worldly circumstances is a con ion which every man is
justified in striving to attain by all worthy means. It secures
that physical satisfaction, which is necessary for the culture of
the better part of his nature; and enables him to provide for those
of his own household, without which, says the Apostle, a man is
"worse than an infidel." Nor ought the duty to be any the less
indifferent to us, that the respect which our fellow-men entertain
for us in no slight degree depends upon the manner in which we
exercise the opportunities which present themselves for our
honourable advancement in life. The very effort required to be
made to succeed in life with this object, is of itself an
education; stimulating a man's sense of self-respect, bringing out
his practical qualities, and disciplining him in the exercise of
patience, perseverance, and such like virtues. The provident and
careful man must necessarily be a thoughtful man, for he lives not
merely for the present, but with provident forecast makes
arrangements for the future. He must also be a temperate man, and
exercise the virtue of self-denial, than which nothing is so much
calculated to give strength to the character. John Sterling says
truly, that "the worst education which teaches self denial, is
better than the best which teaches everything else, and not that."
The Romans rightly employed the same word (virtus) to designate
courage, which is in a physical sense what the other is in a moral;
the highest virtue of all being victory over ourselves.
Hence the lesson of self-denial--the sacrificing of a present
gratification for a future good--is one of the last that is learnt.
Those classes which work the hardest might naturally be expected to
value the most the money which they earn. Yet the readiness with
which so many are accustomed to eat up and drink up their earnings
as they go, renders them to a great extent helpless and dependent
upon the frugal. There are large numbers of persons among us who,
though enjoying sufficient means of comfort and independence, are
often found to be barely a day's march ahead of actual want when a
time of pressure occurs; and hence a great cause of social
helplessness and suffering. On one occasion a deputation waited on
Lord John Russell, respecting the taxation levied on the working
classes of the country, when the noble lord took the opportunity of
remarking, "You may rely upon it that the Government of this
country durst not tax the working classes to anything like the
extent to which they tax themselves in their expenditure upon
intoxicating drinks alone!" Of all great public questions, there
is perhaps none more important than this,--no great work of reform
calling more loudly for labourers. But it must be admitted that
"self-denial and self-help" would make a poor rallying cry for the
hustings; and it is to be feared that the patriotism of this day
has but little regard for such common things as individual economy
and providence, although it is by the practice of such virtues only
that the genuine independence of the industrial classes is to be
secured. "Prudence, frugality, and good management," said Samuel
Drew, the philosophical shoemaker, "are excellent artists for
mending bad times: they occupy but little room in any dwelling,
but would furnish a more effectual remedy for the evils of life
than any Reform Bill that ever passed the Houses of Parliament."
Socrates said, "Let him that would move the world move first
himself. " Or as the old rhyme runs -
"If every one would see
To his own reformation,
How very easily
You might reform a nation."
It is, however, generally felt to be a far easier thing to reform
the Church and the State than to reform the least of our own bad
habits; and in such matters it is usually found more agreeable to
our tastes, as it certainly is the common practice, to begin with
our neighbours rather than with ourselves.
Any class of men that lives from hand to mouth will ever be an
inferior class. They will necessarily remain impotent and
helpless, hanging on to the skirts of society, the sport of times
and seasons. Having no respect for themselves, they will fail in
securing the respect of others. In commercial crises, such men
must inevitably go to the wall. Wanting that husbanded power which
a store of savings, no matter how small, invariably gives them,
they will be at every man's mercy, and, if possessed of right
feelings, they cannot but regard with fear and trembling the future
possible fate of their wives and children. "The world," once said
Mr. Cobden to the working men of Huddersfield, "has always been
divided into two classes,--those who have saved, and those who have
spent--the thrifty and the extravagant. The building of all the
houses, the mills, the bridges, and the ships, and the
accomplishment of all other great works which have rendered man
civilized and happy, has been done by the savers, the thrifty; and
those who have wasted their resources have always been their
slaves. It has been the law of nature and of Providence that this
should be so; and I were an impostor if I promised any class that
they would advance themselves if they were improvident,
thoughtless, and idle."
Equally sound was the advice given by Mr. Bright to an assembly of
working men at Rochdale, in 1847, when, after expressing his belief
that, "so far as honesty was concerned, it was to be found in
pretty equal amount among all classes," he used the following
words:- "There is only one way that is safe for any man, or any
number of men, by which they can maintain their present position if
it be a good one, or raise themselves above it if it be a bad one,-
-that is, by the practice of the virtues of industry, frugality,
temperance, and honesty. There is no royal road by which men can
raise themselves from a position which they feel to be
uncomfortable and unsatisfactory, as regards their mental or
physical condition, except by the practice of those virtues by
which they find numbers amongst them are continually advancing and
bettering themselves."
There is no reason why the condition of the average workman should
not be a useful, honourable, respectable, and happy one. The whole
body of the working classes might, (with few exceptions) be as
frugal, virtuous, well-informed, and well-conditioned as many
individuals of the same class have already made themselves. What
some men are, all without difficulty might be. Employ the same
means, and the same results will follow. That there should be a
class of men who live by their daily labour in every state is the
ordinance of God, and doubtless is a wise and righteous one; but
that this class should be otherwise than frugal, contented,
intelligent, and happy, is not the design of Providence, but
springs solely from the weakness, self-indulgence, and perverseness
of man himself. The healthy spirit of self-help created amongst
working people would more than any other measure serve to raise
them as a class, and this, not by pulling down others, but by
levelling them up to a higher and still advancing standard of
religion, intelligence, and virtue. "All moral philosophy," says
Montaigne, "is as applicable to a common and private life as to the
most splendid. Every man carries the entire form of the human
condition within him."
When a man casts his glance forward, he will find that the three
chief temporal contingencies for which he has to provide are want
of employment, sickness, and death. The two first he may escape,
but the last is inevitable. It is, however, the duty of the
prudent man so to live, and so to arrange, that the pressure of
suffering, in event of either contingency occurring, shall be
mitigated to as great an extent as possible, not only to himself,
but also to those who are dependent upon him for their comfort and
subsistence. Viewed in this light the honest earning and the
frugal use of money are of the greatest importance. Rightly
earned, it is the representative of patient industry and untiring
effort, of temptation resisted, and hope rewarded; and rightly
used, it affords indications of prudence, forethought and self-
denial--the true basis of manly character. Though money represents
a crowd of objects without any real worth or utility, it also
represents many things of great value; not only food, clothing, and
household satisfaction, but personal self-respect and independence.
Thus a store of savings is to the working man as a barricade
against want; it secures him a footing, and enables him to wait, it
may be in cheerfulness and hope, until better days come round. The
very endeavour to gain a firmer position in the world has a certain
dignity in it, and tends to make a man stronger and better. At all
events it gives him greater freedom of action, and enables him to
husband his strength for future effort.
But the man who is always hovering on the verge of want is in a
state not far removed from that of slavery. He is in no sense his
own master, but is in constant peril of falling under the bondage
of others, and accepting the terms which they dictate to him. He
cannot help being, in a measure, servile, for he dares not look the
world boldly in the face; and in adverse times he must look either
to alms or the poor's rates. If work fails him altogether, he has
not the means of moving to another field of employment; he is fixed
to his parish like a limpet to its rock, and can neither migrate
nor emigrate.
To secure independence, the practice of simple economy is all that
is necessary. Economy requires neither superior courage nor
eminent virtue; it is satisfied with ordinary energy, and the
capacity of average minds. Economy, at bottom, is but the spirit
of order applied in the administration of domestic affairs: it
means management, regularity, prudence, and the avoidance of waste.
The spirit of economy was expressed by our Divine Master in the
words 'Gather up the fragments that remain, so that nothing may be
lost.' His omnipotence did not disdain the small things of life;
and even while revealing His infinite power to the multitude, he
taught the pregnant lesson of carefulness of which all stand so
much in need.
Economy also means the power of resisting present gratification for
the purpose of securing a future good, and in this light it
represents the ascendancy of reason over the animal instincts. It
is altogether different from penuriousness: for it is economy that
can always best afford to be generous. It does not make money an
idol, but regards it as a useful agent. As Dean Swift observes,
"we must carry money in the head, not in the heart." Economy may
be styled the daughter of Prudence, the sister of Temperance, and
the mother of Liberty. It is evidently conservative--conservative
of character, of domestic happiness, and social well-being. It is,
in short, the exhibition of self-help in one of its best forms.
Francis Horner's father gave him this advice on entering life:-
"Whilst I wish you to be comfortable in every respect, I cannot too
strongly inculcate economy. It is a necessary virtue to all; and
however the shallow part of mankind may despise it, it certainly
leads to independence, which is a grand object to every man of a
high spirit." Burns' lines, quoted at the head of this chapter,
contain the right idea; but unhappily his strain of song was higher
than his practice; his ideal better than his habit. When laid on
his death-bed he wrote to a friend, "Alas! Clarke, I begin to feel
the worst. Burns' poor widow, and half a dozen of his dear little
ones helpless orphans;--there I am weak as a woman's tear. Enough
of this;--'tis half my disease."
Every man ought so to contrive as to live within his means. This
practice is of the very essence of honesty. For if a man do not
manage honestly to live within his own means, he must necessarily
be living dishonestly upon the means of somebody else. Those who
are careless about personal expenditure, and consider merely their
own gratification, without regard for the comfort of others,
generally find out the real uses of money when it is too late.
Though by nature generous, these thriftless persons are often
driven in the end to do very shabby things. They waste their money
as they do their time; draw bills upon the future; anticipate their
earnings; and are thus under the necessity of dragging after them a
load of debts and obligations which seriously affect their action
as free and independent men.
It was a maxim of Lord Bacon, that when it was necessary to
economize, it was better to look after petty savings than to
descend to petty gettings. The loose cash which many persons throw
away uselessly, and worse, would often form a basis of fortune and
independence for life. These wasters are their own worst enemies,
though generally found amongst the ranks of those who rail at the
injustice of "the world." But if a man will not be his own friend,
how can he expect that others will? Orderly men of moderate means
have always something left in their pockets to help others; whereas
your prodigal and careless fellows who spend all never find an
opportunity for helping anybody. It is poor economy, however, to
be a scrub. Narrowmindedness in living and in dealing is generally
short-sighted, and leads to failure. The penny soul, it is said,
never came to twopence. Generosity and liberality, like honesty,
prove the best policy after all. Though Jenkinson, in the 'Vicar
of Wakefield,' cheated his kind-hearted neighbour Flamborough in
one way or another every year, "Flamborough," said he, "has been
regularly growing in riches, while I have come to poverty and a
gaol." And practical life abounds in cases of brilliant results
from a course of generous and honest policy.
The proverb says that "an empty bag cannot stand upright;" neither
can a man who is in debt. It is also difficult for a man who is in
debt to be truthful; hence it is said that lying rides on debt's
back. The debtor has to frame excuses to his creditor for
postponing payment of the money he owes him; and probably also to
contrive falsehoods. It is easy enough for a man who will exercise
a healthy resolution, to avoid incurring the first obligation; but
the facility with which that has been incurred often becomes a
temptation to a second; and very soon the unfortunate borrower
becomes so entangled that no late exertion of industry can set him
free. The first step in debt is like the first step in falsehood;
almost involving the necessity of proceeding in the same course,
debt following debt, as lie follows lie. Haydon, the painter,
dated his decline from the day on which he first borrowed money.
He realized the truth of the proverb, "Who goes a-borrowing, goes
a-sorrowing." The significant entry in his diary is: "Here began
debt and obligation, out of which I have never been and never shall
be extricated as long as I live." His Autobiography shows but too
painfully how embarrassment in money matters produces poignant
distress of mind, utter incapacity for work, and constantly
recurring humiliations. The written advice which he gave to a
youth when entering the navy was as follows: "Never purchase any
enjoyment if it cannot be procured without borrowing of others.
Never borrow money: it is degrading. I do not say never lend, but
never lend if by lending you render yourself unable to pay what you
owe; but under any circumstances never borrow." Fichte, the poor
student, refused to accept even presents from his still poorer
parents.
Dr. Johnson held that early debt is ruin. His words on the subject
are weighty, and worthy of being held in remembrance. "Do not,"
said he, "accustom yourself to consider debt only as an
inconvenience; you will find it a calamity. Poverty takes away so
many means of doing good, and produces so much inability to resist
evil, both natural and moral, that it is by all virtuous means to
be avoided. . . . Let it be your first care, then, not to be in any
man's debt. Resolve not to be poor; whatever you have spend less.
Poverty is a great enemy to human happiness; it certainly destroys
liberty, and it makes some virtues impracticable and others
extremely difficult. Frugality is not only the basis of quiet, but
of beneficence. No man can help others that wants help himself; we
must have enough before we have to spare."
It is the bounden duty of every man to look his affairs in the
face, and to keep an account of his incomings and outgoings in
money matters. The exercise of a little simple arithmetic in this
way will be found of great value. Prudence requires that we shall
pitch our scale of living a degree below our means, rather than up
to them; but this can only be done by carrying out faithfully a
plan of living by which both ends may be made to meet. John Locke
strongly advised this course: "Nothing," said he, "is likelier to
keep a man within compass than having constantly before his eyes
the state of his affairs in a regular course of account." The Duke
of Wellington kept an accurate detailed account of all the moneys
received and expended by him. "I make a point," said he to Mr.
Gleig, "of paying my own bills, and I advise every one to do the
same; formerly I used to trust a confidential servant to pay them,
but I was cured of that folly by receiving one morning, to my great
surprise, duns of a year or two's standing. The fellow had
speculated with my money, and left my bills unpaid." Talking of
debt his remark was, "It makes a slave of a man. I have often
known what it was to be in want of money, but I never got into
debt." Washington was as particular as Wellington was, in matters
of business detail; and it is a remarkable fact, that he did not
disdain to scrutinize the smallest outgoings of his household--
determined as he was to live honestly within his means--even while
holding the high office of President of the American Union.
Admiral Jervis, Earl St. Vincent, has told the story of his early
struggles, and, amongst other things, of his determination to keep
out of debt. "My father had a very large family," said he, "with
limited means. He gave me twenty pounds at starting, and that was
all he ever gave me. After I had been a considerable time at the
station [at sea], I drew for twenty more, but the bill came back
protested. I was mortified at this rebuke, and made a promise,
which I have ever kept, that I would never draw another bill
without a certainty of its being paid. I immediately changed my
mode of living, quitted my mess, lived alone, and took up the
ship's allowance, which I found quite sufficient; washed and mended
my own clothes; made a pair of trousers out of the ticking of my
bed; and having by these means saved as much money as would redeem
my honour, I took up my bill, and from that time to this I have
taken care to keep within my means." Jervis for six years endured
pinching privation, but preserved his integrity, studied his
profession with success, and gradually and steadily rose by merit
and bravery to the highest rank.
Mr. Hume hit the mark when he once stated in the House of Commons--
though his words were followed by "laughter"--that the tone of
living in England is altogether too high. Middle-class people are
too apt to live up to their incomes, if not beyond them: affecting
a degree of "style" which is most unhealthy in its effects upon
society at large. There is an ambition to bring up boys as
gentlemen, or rather "genteel" men; though the result frequently
is, only to make them gents. They acquire a taste for dress,
style, luxuries, and amusements, which can never form any solid
foundation for manly or gentlemanly character; and the result is,
that we have a vast number of gingerbread young gentry thrown upon
the world, who remind one of the abandoned hulls sometimes picked
up at sea, with only a monkey on board.
There is a dreadful ambition abroad for being "genteel." We keep
up appearances, too often at the expense of honesty; and, though we
may not be rich, yet we must seem to be so. We must be
"respectable," though only in the meanest sense--in mere vulgar
outward show. We have not the courage to go patiently onward in
the condition of life in which it has pleased God to call us; but
must needs live in some fashionable state to which we ridiculously
please to call ourselves, and all to gratify the vanity of that
unsubstantial genteel world of which we form a part. There is a
constant struggle and pressure for front seats in the social
amphitheatre; in the midst of which all noble self-denying resolve
is trodden down, and many fine natures are inevitably crushed to
death. What waste, what misery, what bankruptcy, come from all
this ambition to dazzle others with the glare of apparent worldly
success, we need not describe. The mischievous results show
themselves in a thousand ways--in the rank frauds committed by men
who dare to be dishonest, but do not dare to seem poor; and in the
desperate dashes at fortune, in which the pity is not so much for
those who fail, as for the hundreds of innocent families who are so
often involved in their ruin.
The late Sir Charles Napier, in taking leave of his command in
India, did a bold and honest thing in publishing his strong
protest, embodied in his last General Order to the officers of the
Indian army, against the "fast" life led by so many young officers
in that service, involving them in ignominious obligations. Sir
Charles strongly urged, in that famous document--what had almost
been lost sight of that "honesty is inseparable from the character
of a thorough-bred gentleman;" and that "to drink unpaid-for
champagne and unpaid-for beer, and to ride unpaid-for horses, is to
be a cheat, and not a gentleman." Men who lived beyond their means
and were summoned, often by their own servants, before Courts of
Requests for debts contracted in extravagant living, might be
officers by virtue of their commissions, but they were not
gentlemen. The habit of being constantly in debt, the Commander-
in-chief held, made men grow callous to the proper feelings of a
gentleman. It was not enough that an officer should be able to
fight: that any bull-dog could do. But did he hold his word
inviolate?--did he pay his debts? These were among the points of
honour which, he insisted, illuminated the true gentleman's and
soldier's career. As Bayard was of old, so would Sir Charles
Napier have all British officers to be. He knew them to be
"without fear," but he would also have them "without reproach."
There are, however, many gallant young fellows, both in India and
at home, capable of mounting a breach on an emergency amidst
belching fire, and of performing the most desperate deeds of
valour, who nevertheless cannot or will not exercise the moral
courage necessary to enable them to resist a petty temptation
presented to their senses. They cannot utter their valiant "No,"
or "I can't afford it," to the invitations of pleasure and self-
enjoyment; and they are found ready to brave death rather than the
ridicule of their companions.
The young man, as he passes through life, advances through a long
line of tempters ranged on either side of him; and the inevitable
effect of yielding, is degradation in a greater or a less degree.
Contact with them tends insensibly to draw away from him some
portion of the divine electric element with which his nature is
charged; and his only mode of resisting them is to utter and to act
out his "no" manfully and resolutely. He must decide at once, not
waiting to deliberate and balance reasons; for the youth, like "the
woman who deliberates, is lost." Many deliberate, without
deciding; but "not to resolve, IS to resolve." A perfect knowledge
of man is in the prayer, "Lead us not into temptation." But
temptation will come to try the young man's strength; and once
yielded to, the power to resist grows weaker and weaker. Yield
once, and a portion of virtue has gone. Resist manfully, and the
first decision will give strength for life; repeated, it will
become a habit. It is in the outworks of the habits formed in
early life that the real strength of the defence must lie; for it
has been wisely ordained, that the machinery of moral existence
should be carried on principally through the medium of the habits,
so as to save the wear and tear of the great principles within. It
is good habits, which insinuate themselves into the thousand
inconsiderable acts of life, that really constitute by far the
greater part of man's moral conduct.
Hugh Miller has told how, by an act of youthful decision, he saved
himself from one of the strong temptations so peculiar to a life of
toil. When employed as a mason, it was usual for his fellow-
workmen to have an occasional treat of drink, and one day two
glasses of whisky fell to his share, which he swallowed. When he
reached home, he found, on opening his favourite book--'Bacon's
Essays'--that the letters danced before his eyes, and that he could
no longer master the sense. "The condition," he says, "into which
I had brought myself was, I felt, one of degradation. I had sunk,
by my own act, for the time, to a lower level of intelligence than
that on which it was my privilege to be placed; and though the
state could have been no very favourable one for forming a
resolution, I in that hour determined that I should never again
sacrifice my capacity of intellectual enjoyment to a drinking
usage; and, with God's help, I was enabled to hold by the
determination." It is such decisions as this that often form the
turning-points in a man's life, and furnish the foundation of his
future character. And this rock, on which Hugh Miller might have
been wrecked, if he had not at the right moment put forth his moral
strength to strike away from it, is one that youth and manhood
alike need to be constantly on their guard against. It is about
one of the worst and most deadly, as well as extravagant,
temptations which lie in the way of youth. Sir Walter Scott used
to say that "of all vices drinking is the most incompatible with
greatness." Not only so, but it is incompatible with economy,
decency, health, and honest living. When a youth cannot restrain,
he must abstain. Dr. Johnson's case is the case of many. He said,
referring to his own habits, "Sir, I can abstain; but I can't be
moderate."
But to wrestle vigorously and successfully with any vicious habit,
we must not merely be satisfied with contending on the low ground
of worldly prudence, though that is of use, but take stand upon a
higher moral elevation. Mechanical aids, such as pledges, may be
of service to some, but the great thing is to set up a high
standard of thinking and acting, and endeavour to strengthen and
purify the principles as well as to reform the habits. For this
purpose a youth must study himself, watch his steps, and compare
his thoughts and acts with his rule. The more knowledge of himself
he gains, the more humble will he be, and perhaps the less
confident in his own strength. But the discipline will be always
found most valuable which is acquired by resisting small present
gratifications to secure a prospective greater and higher one. It
is the noblest work in self-education--for
"Real glory
Springs from the silent conquest of ourselves,
And without that the conqueror is nought
But the first slave."
Many popular books have been written for the purpose of
communicating to the public the grand secret of making money. But
there is no secret whatever about it, as the proverbs of every
nation abundantly testify. "Take care of the pennies and the
pounds will take care of themselves." "Diligence is the mother of
good luck." "No pains no gains." "No sweat no sweet." "Work and
thou shalt have." "The world is his who has patience and
industry." "Better go to bed supperless than rise in debt." Such
are specimens of the proverbial philosophy, embodying the hoarded
experience of many generations, as to the best means of thriving in
the world. They were current in people's mouths long before books
were invented; and like other popular proverbs they were the first
codes of popular morals. Moreover they have stood the test of
time, and the experience of every day still bears witness to their
accuracy, force, and soundness. The proverbs of Solomon are full
of wisdom as to the force of industry, and the use and abuse of
money:- "He that is slothful in work is brother to him that is a
great waster." "Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways,
and be wise." Poverty, says the preacher, shall come upon the
idler, "as one that travelleth, and want as an armed man;" but of
the industrious and upright, "the hand of the diligent maketh
rich." "The drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty; and
drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags." "Seest thou a man
diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings." But above
all, "It is better to get wisdom than gold; for wisdom is better
than rubies, and all the things that may be desired are not to be
compared to it."
Simple industry and thrift will go far towards making any person of
ordinary working faculty comparatively independent in his means.
Even a working man may be so, provided he will carefully husband
his resources, and watch the little outlets of useless expenditure.
A penny is a very small matter, yet the comfort of thousands of
families depends upon the proper spending and saving of pennies.
If a man allows the little pennies, the results of his hard work,
to slip out of his fingers--some to the beershop, some this way and
some that--he will find that his life is little raised above one of
mere animal drudgery. On the other hand, if he take care of the
pennies--putting some weekly into a benefit society or an insurance
fund, others into a savings' bank, and confiding the rest to his
wife to be carefully laid out, with a view to the comfortable
maintenance and education of his family--he will soon find that
this attention to small matters will abundantly repay him, in
increasing means, growing comfort at home, and a mind comparatively
free from fears as to the future. And if a working man have high
ambition and possess richness in spirit,--a kind of wealth which
far transcends all mere worldly possessions--he may not only help
himself, but be a profitable helper of others in his path through
life. That this is no impossible thing even for a common labourer
in a workshop, may be illustrated by the remarkable career of
Thomas Wright of Manchester, who not only attempted but succeeded
in the reclamation of many criminals while working for weekly wages
in a foundry.
Accident first directed Thomas Wright's attention to the difficulty
encountered by liberated convicts in returning to habits of honest
industry. His mind was shortly possessed by the subject; and to
remedy the evil became the purpose of his life. Though he worked
from six in the morning till six at night, still there were leisure
minutes that he could call his own--more especially his Sundays--
and these he employed in the service of convicted criminals; a
class then far more neglected than they are now. But a few minutes
a day, well employed, can effect a great deal; and it will scarcely
be credited, that in ten years this working man, by steadfastly
holding to his purpose, succeeded in rescuing not fewer than three
hundred felons from continuance in a life of villany! He came to
be regarded as the moral physician of the Manchester Old Bailey;
and where the Chaplain and all others failed, Thomas Wright often
succeeded. Children he thus restored reformed to their parents;
sons and daughters otherwise lost, to their homes; and many a
returned convict did he contrive to settle down to honest and
industrious pursuits. The task was by no means easy. It required
money, time, energy, prudence, and above all, character, and the
confidence which character invariably inspires. The most
remarkable circumstance was that Wright relieved many of these poor
outcasts out of the comparatively small wages earned by him at
foundry work. He did all this on an income which did not average,
during his working career, 100l. per annum; and yet, while he was
able to bestow substantial aid on criminals, to whom he owed no
more than the service of kindness which every human being owes to
another, he also maintained his family in comfort, and was, by
frugality and carefulness, enabled to lay by a store of savings
against his approaching old age. Every week he apportioned his
income with deliberate care; so much for the indispensable
necessaries of food and clothing, so much for the landlord, so much
for the schoolmaster, so much for the poor and needy; and the lines
of distribution were resolutely observed. By such means did this
humble workman pursue his great work, with the results we have so
briefly described. Indeed, his career affords one of the most
remarkable and striking illustrations of the force of purpose in a
man, of the might of small means carefully and sedulously applied,
and, above all, of the power which an energetic and upright
character invariably exercises upon the lives and conduct of
others.
There is no discredit, but honour, in every right walk of industry,
whether it be in tilling the ground, making tools, weaving fabrics,
or selling the products behind a counter. A youth may handle a
yard-stick, or measure a piece of ribbon; and there will be no
discredit in doing so, unless he allows his mind to have no higher
range than the stick and ribbon; to be as short as the one, and as
narrow as the other. "Let not those blush who HAVE," said Fuller,
"but those who HAVE NOT a lawful calling." And Bishop Hall said,
"Sweet is the destiny of all trades, whether of the brow or of the
mind." Men who have raised themselves from a humble calling, need
not be ashamed, but rather ought to be proud of the difficulties
they have surmounted. An American President, when asked what was
his coat-of-arms, remembering that he had been a hewer of wood in
his youth, replied, "A pair of shirt sleeves." A French doctor
once taunted Flechier, Bishop of Nismes, who had been a tallow-
chandler in his youth, with the meanness of his origin, to which
Flechier replied, "If you had been born in the same condition that
I was, you would still have been but a maker of candles."
Nothing is more common than energy in money-making, quite
independent of any higher object than its accumulation. A man who
devotes himself to this pursuit, body and soul, can scarcely fail
to become rich. Very little brains will do; spend less than you
earn; add guinea to guinea; scrape and save; and the pile of gold
will gradually rise. Osterwald, the Parisian banker, began life a
poor man. He was accustomed every evening to drink a pint of beer
for supper at a tavern which he visited, during which he collected
and pocketed all the corks that he could lay his hands on. In
eight years he had collected as many corks as sold for eight louis
d'ors. With that sum he laid the foundations of his fortune--
gained mostly by stock-jobbing; leaving at his death some three
millions of francs. John Foster has cited a striking illustration
of what this kind of determination will do in money-making. A
young man who ran through his patrimony, spending it in profligacy,
was at length reduced to utter want and despair. He rushed out of
his house intending to put an end to his life, and stopped on
arriving at an eminence overlooking what were once his estates. He
sat down, ruminated for a time, and rose with the determination
that he would recover them. He returned to the streets, saw a load
of coals which had been shot out of a cart on to the pavement
before a house, offered to carry them in, and was employed. He
thus earned a few pence, requested some meat and drink as a
gratuity, which was given him, and the pennies were laid by.
Pursuing this menial labour, he earned and saved more pennies;
accumulated sufficient to enable him to purchase some cattle, the
value of which he understood, and these he sold to advantage. He
proceeded by degrees to undertake larger transactions, until at
length he became rich. The result was, that he more than recovered
his possessions, and died an inveterate miser. When he was buried,
mere earth went to earth. With a nobler spirit, the same
determination might have enabled such a man to be a benefactor to
others as well as to himself. But the life and its end in this
case were alike sordid.
To provide for others and for our own comfort and independence in
old age, is honourable, and greatly to be commended; but to hoard
for mere wealth's sake is the characteristic of the narrow-souled
and the miserly. It is against the growth of this habit of
inordinate saving that the wise man needs most carefully to guard
himself: else, what in youth was simple economy, may in old age
grow into avarice, and what was a duty in the one case, may become
a vice in the other. It is the LOVE of money--not money itself--
which is "the root of evil,"--a love which narrows and contracts
the soul, and closes it against generous life and action. Hence,
Sir Walter Scott makes one of his characters declare that "the
penny siller slew more souls than the naked sword slew bodies." It
is one of the defects of business too exclusively followed, that it
insensibly tends to a mechanism of character. The business man
gets into a rut, and often does not look beyond it. If he lives
for himself only, he becomes apt to regard other human beings only
in so far as they minister to his ends. Take a leaf from such
men's ledger and you have their life.
Worldly success, measured by the accumulation of money, is no doubt
a very dazzling thing; and all men are naturally more or less the
admirers of worldly success. But though men of persevering, sharp,
dexterous, and unscrupulous habits, ever on the watch to push
opportunities, may and do "get on" in the world, yet it is quite
possible that they may not possess the slightest elevation of
character, nor a particle of real goodness. He who recognizes no
higher logic than that of the shilling, may become a very rich man,
and yet remain all the while an exceedingly poor creature. For
riches are no proof whatever of moral worth; and their glitter
often serves only to draw attention to the worthlessness of their
possessor, as the light of the glowworm reveals the grub.
The manner in which many allow themselves to be sacrificed to their
love of wealth reminds one of the cupidity of the monkey--that
caricature of our species. In Algiers, the Kabyle peasant attaches
a gourd, well fixed, to a tree, and places within it some rice.
The gourd has an opening merely sufficient to admit the monkey's
paw. The creature comes to the tree by night, inserts his paw, and
grasps his booty. He tries to draw it back, but it is clenched,
and he has not the wisdom to unclench it. So there he stands till
morning, when he is caught, looking as foolish as may be, though
with the prize in his grasp. The moral of this little story is
capable of a very extensive application in life.
The power of money is on the whole over-estimated. The greatest
things which have been done for the world have not been
accomplished by rich men, nor by subscription lists, but by men
generally of small pecuniary means. Christianity was propagated
over half the world by men of the poorest class; and the greatest
thinkers, discoverers, inventors, and artists, have been men of
moderate wealth, many of them little raised above the condition of
manual labourers in point of worldly circumstances. And it will
always be so. Riches are oftener an impediment than a stimulus to
action; and in many cases they are quite as much a misfortune as a
blessing. The youth who inherits wealth is apt to have life made
too easy for him, and he soon grows sated with it, because he has
nothing left to desire. Having no special object to struggle for,
he finds time hang heavy on his hands; he remains morally and
spiritually asleep; and his position in society is often no higher
than that of a polypus over which the tide floats.
"His only labour is to kill the time,
And labour dire it is, and weary woe."
Yet the rich man, inspired by a right spirit, will spurn idleness
as unmanly; and if he bethink himself of the responsibilities which
attach to the possession of wealth and property he will feel even a
higher call to work than men of humbler lot. This, however, must
be admitted to be by no means the practice of life. The golden
mean of Agur's perfect prayer is, perhaps, the best lot of all, did
we but know it: "Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with
food convenient for me." The late Joseph Brotherton, M.P., left a
fine motto to be recorded upon his monument in the Peel Park at
Manchester,--the declaration in his case being strictly true: "My
richness consisted not in the greatness of my possessions, but in
the smallness of my wants." He rose from the humblest station,
that of a factory boy, to an eminent position of usefulness, by the
simple exercise of homely honesty, industry, punctuality, and self-
denial. Down to the close of his life, when not attending
Parliament, he did duty as minister in a small chapel in Manchester
to which he was attached; and in all things he made it appear, to
those who knew him in private life, that the glory he sought was
NOT "to be seen of men," or to excite their praise, but to earn the
consciousness of discharging the every-day duties of life, down to
the smallest and humblest of them, in an honest, upright, truthful,
and loving spirit.
"Respectability," in its best sense, is good. The respectable man
is one worthy of regard, literally worth turning to look at. But
the respectability that consists in merely keeping up appearances
is not worth looking at in any sense. Far better and more
respectable is the good poor man than the bad rich one--better the
humble silent man than the agreeable well-appointed rogue who keeps
his gig. A well balanced and well-stored mind, a life full of
useful purpose, whatever the position occupied in it may be, is of
far greater importance than average worldly respectability. The
highest object of life we take to be, to form a manly character,
and to work out the best development possible, of body and spirit--
of mind, conscience, heart, and soul. This is the end: all else
ought to be regarded but as the means. Accordingly, that is not
the most successful life in which a man gets the most pleasure, the
most money, the most power or place, honour or fame; but that in
which a man gets the most manhood, and performs the greatest amount
of useful work and of human duty. Money is power after its sort,
it is true; but intelligence, public spirit, and moral virtue, are
powers too, and far nobler ones. "Let others plead for pensions,"
wrote Lord Collingwood to a friend; "I can be rich without money,
by endeavouring to be superior to everything poor. I would have my
services to my country unstained by any interested motive; and old
Scott {27} and I can go on in our cabbage-garden without much
greater expense than formerly." On another occasion he said, "I
have motives for my conduct which I would not give in exchange for
a hundred pensions."
The making of a fortune may no doubt enable some people to "enter
society," as it is called; but to be esteemed there, they must
possess qualities of mind, manners, or heart, else they are merely
rich people, nothing more. There are men "in society" now, as rich
as Croesus, who have no consideration extended towards them, and
elicit no respect. For why? They are but as money-bags: their
only power is in their till. The men of mark in society--the
guides and rulers of opinion--the really successful and useful men-
-are not necessarily rich men; but men of sterling character, of
disciplined experience, and of moral excellence. Even the poor
man, like Thomas Wright, though he possess but little of this
world's goods, may, in the enjoyment of a cultivated nature, of
opportunities used and not abused, of a life spent to the best of
his means and ability, look down, without the slightest feeling of
envy, upon the person of mere worldly success, the man of money-
bags and acres.
CHAPTER XI--SELF-CULTURE--FACILITIES AND DIFFICULTIES
"Every person has two educations, one which he receives from
others, and one, more important, which he gives to himself."--
Gibbon.
"Is there one whom difficulties dishearten--who bends to the storm?
He will do little. Is there one who will conquer? That kind of
man never fails."--John Hunter.
"The wise and active conquer difficulties,
By daring to attempt them: sloth and folly
Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and danger,
And MAKE the impossibility they fear."--Rowe.
"The best part of every man's education," said Sir Walter Scott,
"is that which he gives to himself." The late Sir Benjamin Brodie
delighted to remember this saying, and he used to congratulate
himself on the fact that professionally he was self-taught. But
this is necessarily the case with all men who have acquired
distinction in letters, science, or art. The education received at
school or college is but a beginning, and is valuable mainly
inasmuch as it trains the mind and habituates it to continuous
application and study. That which is put into us by others is
always far less ours than that which we acquire by our own diligent
and persevering effort. Knowledge conquered by labour becomes a
possession--a property entirely our own. A greater vividness and
permanency of impression is secured; and facts thus acquired become
registered in the mind in a way that mere imparted information can
never effect. This kind of self-culture also calls forth power and
cultivates strength. The solution of one problem helps the mastery
of another; and thus knowledge is carried into faculty. Our own
active effort is the essential thing; and no facilities, no books,
no teachers, no amount of lessons learnt by rote will enable us to
dispense with it.
The best teachers have been the readiest to recognize the
importance of self-culture, and of stimulating the student to
acquire knowledge by the active exercise of his own faculties.
They have relied more upon TRAINING than upon telling, and sought
to make their pupils themselves active parties to the work in which
they were engaged; thus making teaching something far higher than
the mere passive reception of the scraps and details of knowledge.
This was the spirit in which the great Dr. Arnold worked; he strove
to teach his pupils to rely upon themselves, and develop their
powers by their own active efforts, himself merely guiding,
directing, stimulating, and encouraging them. "I would far
rather," he said, "send a boy to Van Diemen's Land, where he must
work for his bread, than send him to Oxford to live in luxury,
without any desire in his mind to avail himself of his advantages."
"If there be one thing on earth," he observed on another occasion,
"which is truly admirable, it is to see God's wisdom blessing an
inferiority of natural powers, when they have been honestly, truly,
and zealously cultivated." Speaking of a pupil of this character,
he said, "I would stand to that man hat in hand." Once at Laleham,
when teaching a rather dull boy, Arnold spoke somewhat sharply to
him, on which the pupil looked up in his face and said, "Why do you
speak angrily, sir? INDEED, I am doing the best I can." Years
afterwards, Arnold used to tell the story to his children, and
added, "I never felt so much in my life--that look and that speech
I have never forgotten."
From the numerous instances already cited of men of humble station
who have risen to distinction in science and literature, it will be
obvious that labour is by no means incompatible with the highest
intellectual culture. Work in moderation is healthy, as well as
agreeable to the human constitution. Work educates the body, as
study educates the mind; and that is the best state of society in
which there is some work for every man's leisure, and some leisure
for every man's work. Even the leisure classes are in a measure
compelled to work, sometimes as a relief from ennui, but in most
cases to gratify an instinct which they cannot resist. Some go
foxhunting in the English counties, others grouse-shooting on the
Scotch hills, while many wander away every summer to climb
mountains in Switzerland. Hence the boating, running, cricketing,
and athletic sports of the public schools, in which our young men
at the same time so healthfully cultivate their strength both of
mind and body. It is said that the Duke of Wellington, when once
looking on at the boys engaged in their sports in the play-ground
at Eton, where he had spent many of his own younger days, made the
remark, "It was there that the battle of Waterloo was won!"
Daniel Malthus urged his son when at college to be most diligent in
the cultivation of knowledge, but he also enjoined him to pursue
manly sports as the best means of keeping up the full working power
of his mind, as well as of enjoying the pleasures of intellect.
"Every kind of knowledge," said he, "every acquaintance with nature
and art, will amuse and strengthen your mind, and I am perfectly
pleased that cricket should do the same by your arms and legs; I
love to see you excel in exercises of the body, and I think myself
that the better half, and much the most agreeable part, of the
pleasures of the mind is best enjoyed while one is upon one's
legs." But a still more important use of active employment is that
referred to by the great divine, Jeremy Taylor. "Avoid idleness,"
he says, "and fill up all the spaces of thy time with severe and
useful employment; for lust easily creeps in at those emptinesses
where the soul is unemployed and the body is at ease; for no easy,
healthful, idle person was ever chaste if he could be tempted; but
of all employments bodily labour is the most useful, and of the
greatest benefit for driving away the devil."