It is therefore advisable for young men to seek the fellowship of
the good, and always to aim at a higher standard than themselves.
Francis Horner, speaking of the advantages to himself of direct
personal intercourse with high-minded, intelligent men, said, "I
cannot hesitate to decide that I have derived more intellectual
improvement from them than from all the books I have turned over."
Lord Shelburne (afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne), when a young man,
paid a visit to the venerable Malesherbes, and was so much
impressed by it, that he said,--"I have travelled much, but I have
never been so influenced by personal contact with any man; and if I
ever accomplish any good in the course of my life, I am certain
that the recollection of M. de Malesherbes will animate my soul."
So Fowell Buxton was always ready to acknowledge the powerful
influence exercised upon the formation of his character in early
life by the example of the Gurney family:  "It has given a colour
to my life," he used to say.  Speaking of his success at the Dublin
University, he confessed, "I can ascribe it to nothing but my
Earlham visits."  It was from the Gurneys he "caught the infection"
of self-improvement.

Contact with the good never fails to impart good, and we carry away
with us some of the blessing, as travellers' garments retain the
odour of the flowers and shrubs through which they have passed.
Those who knew the late John Sterling intimately, have spoken of
the beneficial influence which he exercised on all with whom he
came into personal contact.  Many owed to him their first awakening
to a higher being; from him they learnt what they were, and what
they ought to be.  Mr. Trench says of him:- "It was impossible to
come in contact with his noble nature without feeling one's self in
some measure ENNOBLED and LIFTED UP, as I ever felt when I left
him, into a higher region of objects and aims than that in which
one is tempted habitually to dwell."  It is thus that the noble
character always acts; we become insensibly elevated by him, and
cannot help feeling as he does and acquiring the habit of looking
at things in the same light.  Such is the magical action and
reaction of minds upon each other.

Artists, also, feel themselves elevated by contact with artists
greater than themselves.  Thus Haydn's genius was first fired by
Handel.  Hearing him play, Haydn's ardour for musical composition
was at once excited, and but for this circumstance, he himself
believed that he would never have written the 'Creation.'  Speaking
of Handel, he said, "When he chooses, he strikes like the
thunderbolt;" and at another time, "There is not a note of him but
draws blood."  Scarlatti was another of Handel's ardent admirers,
following him all over Italy; afterwards, when speaking of the
great master, he would cross himself in token of admiration.  True
artists never fail generously to recognise each other's greatness.
Thus Beethoven's admiration for Cherubini was regal:  and he
ardently hailed the genius of Schubert:  "Truly," said he, "in
Schubert dwells a divine fire."  When Northcote was a mere youth he
had such an admiration for Reynolds that, when the great painter
was once attending a public meeting down in Devonshire, the boy
pushed through the crowd, and got so near Reynolds as to touch the
skirt of his coat, "which I did," says Northcote, "with great
satisfaction to my mind,"--a true touch of youthful enthusiasm in
its admiration of genius.

The example of the brave is an inspiration to the timid, their
presence thrilling through every fibre.  Hence the miracles of
valour so often performed by ordinary men under the leadership of
the heroic.  The very recollection of the deeds of the valiant
stirs men's blood like the sound of a trumpet.  Ziska bequeathed
his skin to be used as a drum to inspire the valour of the
Bohemians.  When Scanderbeg, prince of Epirus, was dead, the Turks
wished to possess his bones, that each might wear a piece next his
heart, hoping thus to secure some portion of the courage he had
displayed while living, and which they had so often experienced in
battle.  When the gallant Douglas, bearing the heart of Bruce to
the Holy Land, saw one of his knights surrounded and sorely pressed
by the Saracens, he took from his neck the silver case containing
the hero's bequest, and throwing it amidst the thickest press of
his foes, cried, "Pass first in fight, as thou wert wont to do, and
Douglas will follow thee, or die;" and so saying, he rushed forward
to the place where it fell, and was there slain.

The chief use of biography consists in the noble models of
character in which it abounds.  Our great forefathers still live
among us in the records of their lives, as well as in the acts they
have done, which live also; still sit by us at table, and hold us
by the hand; furnishing examples for our benefit, which we may
still study, admire and imitate.  Indeed, whoever has left behind
him the record of a noble life, has bequeathed to posterity an
enduring source of good, for it serves as a model for others to
form themselves by in all time to come; still breathing fresh life
into men, helping them to reproduce his life anew, and to
illustrate his character in other forms.  Hence a book containing
the life of a true man is full of precious seed.  It is a still
living voice; it is an intellect.  To use Milton's words, "it is
the precious life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured
up on purpose to a life beyond life."  Such a book never ceases to
exercise an elevating and ennobling influence.  But, above all,
there is the Book containing the very highest Example set before us
to shape our lives by in this world--the most suitable for all the
necessities of our mind and heart--an example which we can only
follow afar off and feel after,


"Like plants or vines which never saw the sun,
But dream of him and guess where he may be,
And do their best to climb and get to him."


Again, no young man can rise from the perusal of such lives as
those of Buxton and Arnold, without feeling his mind and heart made
better, and his best resolves invigorated.  Such biographies
increase a man's self-reliance by demonstrating what men can be,
and what they can do; fortifying his hopes and elevating his aims
in life.  Sometimes a young man discovers himself in a biography,
as Correggio felt within him the risings of genius on contemplating
the works of Michael Angelo:  "And I too, am a painter," he
exclaimed.  Sir Samuel Romilly, in his autobiography, confessed
himself to have been powerfully influenced by the life of the great
and noble-minded French Chancellor Daguesseau:- "The works of
Thomas," says he, "had fallen into my hands, and I had read with
admiration his 'Eloge of Daguesseau;' and the career of honour
which he represented that illustrious magistrate to have run,
excited to a great degree my ardour and ambition, and opened to my
imagination new paths of glory."

Franklin was accustomed to attribute his usefulness and eminence to
his having early read Cotton Mather's 'Essays to do Good'--a book
which grew out of Mather's own life.  And see how good example
draws other men after it, and propagates itself through future
generations in all lands.  For Samuel Drew avers that he framed his
own life, and especially his business habits, after the model left
on record by Benjamin Franklin.  Thus it is impossible to say where
a good example may not reach, or where it will end, if indeed it
have an end.  Hence the advantage, in literature as in life, of
keeping the best society, reading the best books, and wisely
admiring and imitating the best things we find in them.  "In
literature," said Lord Dudley, "I am fond of confining myself to
the best company, which consists chiefly of my old acquaintance,
with whom I am desirous of becoming more intimate; and I suspect
that nine times out of ten it is more profitable, if not more
agreeable, to read an old book over again, than to read a new one
for the first time."

Sometimes a book containing a noble exemplar of life, taken up at
random, merely with the object of reading it as a pastime, has been
known to call forth energies whose existence had not before been
suspected.  Alfieri was first drawn with passion to literature by
reading 'Plutarch's Lives.'  Loyola, when a soldier serving at the
siege of Pampeluna, and laid up by a dangerous wound in his leg,
asked for a book to divert his thoughts:  the 'Lives of the Saints'
was brought to him, and its perusal so inflamed his mind, that he
determined thenceforth to devote himself to the founding of a
religious order.  Luther, in like manner, was inspired to undertake
the great labours of his life by a perusal of the 'Life and
Writings of John Huss.'  Dr. Wolff was stimulated to enter upon his
missionary career by reading the 'Life of Francis Xavier;' and the
book fired his youthful bosom with a passion the most sincere and
ardent to devote himself to the enterprise of his life.  William
Carey, also, got the first idea of entering upon his sublime
labours as a missionary from a perusal of the Voyages of Captain
Cook.

Francis Horner was accustomed to note in his diary and letters the
books by which he was most improved and influenced.  Amongst these
were Condorcet's 'Eloge of Haller,' Sir Joshua Reynolds'
'Discourses,' the writings of Bacon, and 'Burnet's Account of Sir
Matthew Hale.'  The perusal of the last-mentioned book--the
portrait of a prodigy of labour--Horner says, filled him with
enthusiasm.  Of Condorcet's 'Eloge of Haller,' he said:  "I never
rise from the account of such men without a sort of thrilling
palpitation about me, which I know not whether I should call
admiration, ambition, or despair."  And speaking of the
'Discourses' of Sir Joshua Reynolds, he said:  "Next to the
writings of Bacon, there is no book which has more powerfully
impelled me to self-culture.  He is one of the first men of genius
who has condescended to inform the world of the steps by which
greatness is attained.  The confidence with which he asserts the
omnipotence of human labour has the effect of familiarising his
reader with the idea that genius is an acquisition rather than a
gift; whilst with all there is blended so naturally and eloquently
the most elevated and passionate admiration of excellence, that
upon the whole there is no book of a more INFLAMMATORY effect."  It
is remarkable that Reynolds himself attributed his first passionate
impulse towards the study of art, to reading Richardson's account
of a great painter; and Haydon was in like manner afterwards
inflamed to follow the same pursuit by reading of the career of
Reynolds.  Thus the brave and aspiring life of one man lights a
flame in the minds of others of like faculties and impulse; and
where there is equally vigorous efforts like distinction and
success will almost surely follow.  Thus the chain of example is
carried down through time in an endless succession of links,--
admiration exciting imitation, and perpetuating the true
aristocracy of genius.

One of the most valuable, and one of the most infectious examples
which can be set before the young, is that of cheerful working.
Cheerfulness gives elasticity to the spirit.  Spectres fly before
it; difficulties cause no despair, for they are encountered with
hope, and the mind acquires that happy disposition to improve
opportunities which rarely fails of success.  The fervent spirit is
always a healthy and happy spirit; working cheerfully itself, and
stimulating others to work.  It confers a dignity on even the most
ordinary occupations.  The most effective work, also, is usually
the full-hearted work--that which passes through the hands or the
head of him whose heart is glad.  Hume was accustomed to say that
he would rather possess a cheerful disposition--inclined always to
look at the bright side of things--than with a gloomy mind to be
the master of an estate of ten thousand a year.  Granville Sharp,
amidst his indefatigable labours on behalf of the slave, solaced
himself in the evenings by taking part in glees and instrumental
concerts at his brother's house, singing, or playing on the flute,
the clarionet or the oboe; and, at the Sunday evening oratorios,
when Handel was played, he beat the kettle-drums.  He also
indulged, though sparingly, in caricature drawing.  Fowell Buxton
also was an eminently cheerful man; taking special pleasure in
field sports, in riding about the country with his children, and in
mixing in all their domestic amusements.

In another sphere of action, Dr. Arnold was a noble and a cheerful
worker, throwing himself into the great business of his life, the
training and teaching of young men, with his whole heart and soul.
It is stated in his admirable biography, that "the most remarkable
thing in the Laleham circle was the wonderful healthiness of tone
which prevailed there.  It was a place where a new comer at once
felt that a great and earnest work was going forward.  Every pupil
was made to feel that there was a work for him to do; that his
happiness, as well as his duty, lay in doing that work well.  Hence
an indescribable zest was communicated to a young man's feeling
about life; a strange joy came over him on discerning that he had
the means of being useful, and thus of being happy; and a deep
respect and ardent attachment sprang up towards him who had taught
him thus to value life and his own self, and his work and mission
in the world.  All this was founded on the breadth and
comprehensiveness of Arnold's character, as well as its striking
truth and reality; on the unfeigned regard he had for work of all
kinds, and the sense he had of its value, both for the complex
aggregate of society and the growth and protection of the
individual.  In all this there was no excitement; no predilection
for one class of work above another; no enthusiasm for any one-
sided object:  but a humble, profound, and most religious
consciousness that work is the appointed calling of man on earth;
the end for which his various faculties were given; the element in
which his nature is ordained to develop itself, and in which his
progressive advance towards heaven is to lie."  Among the many
valuable men trained for public life and usefulness by Arnold, was
the gallant Hodson, of Hodson's Horse, who, writing home from
India, many years after, thus spoke of his revered master:  "The
influence he produced has been most lasting and striking in its
effects.  It is felt even in India; I cannot say more than THAT."

The useful influence which a right-hearted man of energy and
industry may exercise amongst his neighbours and dependants, and
accomplish for his country, cannot, perhaps, be better illustrated
than by the career of Sir John Sinclair; characterized by the Abbe
Gregoire as "the most indefatigable man in Europe."  He was
originally a country laird, born to a considerable estate situated
near John o' Groat's House, almost beyond the beat of civilization,
in a bare wild country fronting the stormy North Sea.  His father
dying while he was a youth of sixteen, the management of the family
property thus early devolved upon him; and at eighteen he began a
course of vigorous improvement in the county of Caithness, which
eventually spread all over Scotland.  Agriculture then was in a
most backward state; the fields were unenclosed, the lands
undrained; the small farmers of Caithness were so poor that they
could scarcely afford to keep a horse or shelty; the hard work was
chiefly done, and the burdens borne, by the women; and if a cottier
lost a horse it was not unusual for him to marry a wife as the
cheapest substitute.  The country was without roads or bridges; and
drovers driving their cattle south had to swim the rivers along
with their beasts.  The chief track leading into Caithness lay
along a high shelf on a mountain side, the road being some hundred
feet of clear perpendicular height above the sea which dashed
below.  Sir John, though a mere youth, determined to make a new
road over the hill of Ben Cheilt, the old let-alone proprietors,
however, regarding his scheme with incredulity and derision.  But
he himself laid out the road, assembled some twelve hundred workmen
early one summer's morning, set them simultaneously to work,
superintending their labours, and stimulating them by his presence
and example; and before night, what had been a dangerous sheep
track, six miles in length, hardly passable for led horses, was
made practicable for wheel-carriages as if by the power of magic.
It was an admirable example of energy and well-directed labour,
which could not fail to have a most salutary influence upon the
surrounding population.  He then proceeded to make more roads, to
erect mills, to build bridges, and to enclose and cultivate the
waste lands.  He introduced improved methods of culture, and
regular rotation of crops, distributing small premiums to encourage
industry; and he thus soon quickened the whole frame of society
within reach of his influence, and infused an entirely new spirit
into the cultivators of the soil.  From being one of the most
inaccessible districts of the north--the very ultima Thule of
civilization--Caithness became a pattern county for its roads, its
agriculture, and its fisheries.  In Sinclair's youth, the post was
carried by a runner only once a week, and the young baronet then
declared that he would never rest till a coach drove daily to
Thurso.  The people of the neighbourhood could not believe in any
such thing, and it became a proverb in the county to say of an
utterly impossible scheme, "Ou, ay, that will come to pass when Sir
John sees the daily mail at Thurso!"  But Sir John lived to see his
dream realized, and the daily mail established to Thurso.

The circle of his benevolent operation gradually widened.
Observing the serious deterioration which had taken place in the
quality of British wool,--one of the staple commodities of the
country,--he forthwith, though but a private and little-known
country gentleman, devoted himself to its improvement.  By his
personal exertions he established the British Wool Society for the
purpose, and himself led the way to practical improvement by
importing 800 sheep from all countries, at his own expense.  The
result was, the introduction into Scotland of the celebrated
Cheviot breed.  Sheep farmers scouted the idea of south country
flocks being able to thrive in the far north.  But Sir John
persevered; and in a few years there were not fewer than 300,000
Cheviots diffused over the four northern counties alone.  The value
of all grazing land was thus enormously increased; and Scotch
estates, which before were comparatively worthless, began to yield
large rentals.

Returned by Caithness to Parliament, in which he remained for
thirty years, rarely missing a division, his position gave him
farther opportunities of usefulness, which he did not neglect to
employ.  Mr. Pitt, observing his persevering energy in all useful
public projects, sent for him to Downing Street, and voluntarily
proposed his assistance in any object he might have in view.
Another man might have thought of himself and his own promotion;
but Sir John characteristically replied, that he desired no favour
for himself, but intimated that the reward most gratifying to his
feelings would be Mr. Pitt's assistance in the establishment of a
National Board of Agriculture.  Arthur Young laid a bet with the
baronet that his scheme would never be established, adding, "Your
Board of Agriculture will be in the moon!"  But vigorously setting
to work, he roused public attention to the subject, enlisted a
majority of Parliament on his side, and eventually established the
Board, of which he was appointed President.  The result of its
action need not be described, but the stimulus which it gave to
agriculture and stock-raising was shortly felt throughout the whole
United Kingdom, and tens of thousands of acres were redeemed from
barrenness by its operation.  He was equally indefatigable in
encouraging the establishment of fisheries; and the successful
founding of these great branches of British industry at Thurso and
Wick was mainly due to his exertions.  He urged for long years, and
at length succeeded in obtaining the enclosure of a harbour for the
latter place, which is perhaps the greatest and most prosperous
fishing town in the world.

Sir John threw his personal energy into every work in which he
engaged, rousing the inert, stimulating the idle, encouraging the
hopeful, and working with all.  When a French invasion was
threatened, he offered to Mr. Pitt to raise a regiment on his own
estate, and he was as good as his word.  He went down to the north,
and raised a battalion of 600 men, afterwards increased to 1000;
and it was admitted to be one of the finest volunteer regiments
ever raised, inspired throughout by his own noble and patriotic
spirit.  While commanding officer of the camp at Aberdeen he held
the offices of a Director of the Bank of Scotland, Chairman of the
British Wool Society, Provost of Wick, Director of the British
Fishery Society, Commissioner for issuing Exchequer Bills, Member
of Parliament for Caithness, and President of the Board of
Agriculture.  Amidst all this multifarious and self-imposed work,
he even found time to write books, enough of themselves to
establish a reputation.  When Mr. Rush, the American Ambassador,
arrived in England, he relates that he inquired of Mr. Coke of
Holkham, what was the best work on Agriculture, and was referred to
Sir John Sinclair's; and when he further asked of Mr. Vansittart,
Chancellor of the Exchequer, what was the best work on British
Finance, he was again referred to a work by Sir John Sinclair, his
'History of the Public Revenue.'  But the great monument of his
indefatigable industry, a work that would have appalled other men,
but only served to rouse and sustain his energy, was his
'Statistical Account of Scotland,' in twenty-one volumes, one of
the most valuable practical works ever published in any age or
country.  Amid a host of other pursuits it occupied him nearly
eight years of hard labour, during which he received, and attended
to, upwards of 20,000 letters on the subject.  It was a thoroughly
patriotic undertaking, from which he derived no personal advantage
whatever, beyond the honour of having completed it.  The whole of
the profits were assigned by him to the Society for the Sons of the
Clergy in Scotland.  The publication of the book led to great
public improvements; it was followed by the immediate abolition of
several oppressive feudal rights, to which it called attention; the
salaries of schoolmasters and clergymen in many parishes were
increased; and an increased stimulus was given to agriculture
throughout Scotland.  Sir John then publicly offered to undertake
the much greater labour of collecting and publishing a similar
Statistical Account of England; but unhappily the then Archbishop
of Canterbury refused to sanction it, lest it should interfere with
the tithes of the clergy, and the idea was abandoned.

A remarkable illustration of his energetic promptitude was the
manner in which he once provided, on a great emergency, for the
relief of the manufacturing districts.  In 1793 the stagnation
produced by the war led to an unusual number of bankruptcies, and
many of the first houses in Manchester and Glasgow were tottering,
not so much from want of property, but because the usual sources of
trade and credit were for the time closed up.  A period of intense
distress amongst the labouring classes seemed imminent, when Sir
John urged, in Parliament, that Exchequer notes to the amount of
five millions should be issued immediately as a loan to such
merchants as could give security.  This suggestion was adopted, and
his offer to carry out his plan, in conjunction with certain
members named by him, was also accepted.  The vote was passed late
at night, and early next morning Sir John, anticipating the delays
of officialism and red tape, proceeded to bankers in the city, and
borrowed of them, on his own personal security, the sum of
70,000l., which he despatched the same evening to those merchants
who were in the most urgent need of assistance.  Pitt meeting Sir
John in the House, expressed his great regret that the pressing
wants of Manchester and Glasgow could not be supplied so soon as
was desirable, adding, "The money cannot be raised for some days."
"It is already gone! it left London by to-night's mail!" was Sir
John's triumphant reply; and in afterwards relating the anecdote he
added, with a smile of pleasure, "Pitt was as much startled as if I
had stabbed him."  To the last this great, good man worked on
usefully and cheerfully, setting a great example for his family and
for his country.  In so laboriously seeking others' good, it might
be said that he found his own--not wealth, for his generosity
seriously impaired his private fortune, but happiness, and self-
satisfaction, and the peace that passes knowledge.  A great
patriot, with magnificent powers of work, he nobly did his duty to
his country; yet he was not neglectful of his own household and
home.  His sons and daughters grew up to honour and usefulness; and
it was one of the proudest things Sir John could say, when verging
on his eightieth year, that he had lived to see seven sons grown
up, not one of whom had incurred a debt he could not pay, or caused
him a sorrow that could have been avoided.



CHAPTER XIII--CHARACTER--THE TRUE GENTLEMAN



"For who can always act? but he,
To whom a thousand memories call,
Not being less but more than all
The gentleness he seemed to be,

But seemed the thing he was, and joined
Each office of the social hour
To noble manners, as the flower
And native growth of noble mind;

And thus he bore without abuse
The grand old name of Gentleman."--Tennyson.

"Es bildet ein Talent sich in der Stille,
Sich ein Charakter in dem Strom der Welt."--Goethe.

"That which raises a country, that which strengthens a country, and
that which dignifies a country,--that which spreads her power,
creates her moral influence, and makes her respected and submitted
to, bends the hearts of millions, and bows down the pride of
nations to her--the instrument of obedience, the fountain of
supremacy, the true throne, crown, and sceptre of a nation;--this
aristocracy is not an aristocracy of blood, not an aristocracy of
fashion, not an aristocracy of talent only; it is an aristocracy of
Character.  That is the true heraldry of man."--The Times.


The crown and glory of life is Character.  It is the noblest
possession of a man, constituting a rank in itself, and an estate
in the general goodwill; dignifying every station, and exalting
every position in society.  It exercises a greater power than
wealth, and secures all the honour without the jealousies of fame.
It carries with it an influence which always tells; for it is the
result of proved honour, rectitude, and consistency--qualities
which, perhaps more than any other, command the general confidence
and respect of mankind.

Character is human nature in its best form.  It is moral order
embodied in the individual.  Men of character are not only the
conscience of society, but in every well-governed State they are
its best motive power; for it is moral qualities in the main which
rule the world.  Even in war, Napoleon said the moral is to the
physical as ten to one.  The strength, the industry, and the
civilisation of nations--all depend upon individual character; and
the very foundations of civil security rest upon it.  Laws and
institutions are but its outgrowth.  In the just balance of nature,
individuals, nations, and races, will obtain just so much as they
deserve, and no more.  And as effect finds its cause, so surely
does quality of character amongst a people produce its befitting
results.

Though a man have comparatively little culture, slender abilities,
and but small wealth, yet, if his character be of sterling worth,
he will always command an influence, whether it be in the workshop,
the counting-house, the mart, or the senate.  Canning wisely wrote
in 1801, "My road must be through Character to power; I will try no
other course; and I am sanguine enough to believe that this course,
though not perhaps the quickest, is the surest."  You may admire
men of intellect; but something more is necessary before you will
trust them.  Hence Lord John Russell once observed in a sentence
full of truth, "It is the nature of party in England to ask the
assistance of men of genius, but to follow the guidance of men of
character."  This was strikingly illustrated in the career of the
late Francis Horner--a man of whom Sydney Smith said that the Ten
Commandments were stamped upon his countenance.  "The valuable and
peculiar light," says Lord Cockburn, "in which his history is
calculated to inspire every right-minded youth, is this.  He died
at the age of thirty-eight; possessed of greater public influence
than any other private man; and admired, beloved, trusted, and
deplored by all, except the heartless or the base.  No greater
homage was ever paid in Parliament to any deceased member.  Now let
every young man ask--how was this attained?  By rank?  He was the
son of an Edinburgh merchant.  By wealth?  Neither he, nor any of
his relations, ever had a superfluous sixpence.  By office?  He
held but one, and only for a few years, of no influence, and with
very little pay.  By talents?  His were not splendid, and he had no
genius.  Cautious and slow, his only ambition was to be right.  By
eloquence?  He spoke in calm, good taste, without any of the
oratory that either terrifies or seduces.  By any fascination of
manner?  His was only correct and agreeable.  By what, then, was
it?  Merely by sense, industry, good principles, and a good heart--
qualities which no well-constituted mind need ever despair of
attaining.  It was the force of his character that raised him; and
this character not impressed upon him by nature, but formed, out of
no peculiarly fine elements, by himself.  There were many in the
House of Commons of far greater ability and eloquence.  But no one
surpassed him in the combination of an adequate portion of these
with moral worth.  Horner was born to show what moderate powers,
unaided by anything whatever except culture and goodness, may
achieve, even when these powers are displayed amidst the
competition and jealousy of public life."

Franklin, also, attributed his success as a public man, not to his
talents or his powers of speaking--for these were but moderate--but
to his known integrity of character.  Hence it was, he says, "that
I had so much weight with my fellow citizens.  I was but a bad
speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of
words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my
point."  Character creates confidence in men in high station as
well as in humble life.  It was said of the first Emperor Alexander
of Russia, that his personal character was equivalent to a
constitution.  During the wars of the Fronde, Montaigne was the
only man amongst the French gentry who kept his castle gates
unbarred; and it was said of him, that his personal character was a
better protection for him than a regiment of horse would have been.

That character is power, is true in a much higher sense than that
knowledge is power.  Mind without heart, intelligence without
conduct, cleverness without goodness, are powers in their way, but
they may be powers only for mischief.  We may be instructed or
amused by them; but it is sometimes as difficult to admire them as
it would be to admire the dexterity of a pickpocket or the
horsemanship of a highwayman.

Truthfulness, integrity, and goodness--qualities that hang not on
any man's breath--form the essence of manly character, or, as one
of our old writers has it, "that inbred loyalty unto Virtue which
can serve her without a livery."  He who possesses these qualities,
united with strength of purpose, carries with him a power which is
irresistible.  He is strong to do good, strong to resist evil, and
strong to bear up under difficulty and misfortune.  When Stephen of
Colonna fell into the hands of his base assailants, and they asked
him in derision, "Where is now your fortress?"  "Here," was his
bold reply, placing his hand upon his heart.  It is in misfortune
that the character of the upright man shines forth with the
greatest lustre; and when all else fails, he takes stand upon his
integrity and his courage.

The rules of conduct followed by Lord Erskine--a man of sterling
independence of principle and scrupulous adherence to truth--are
worthy of being engraven on every young man's heart.  "It was a
first command and counsel of my earliest youth," he said, "always
to do what my conscience told me to be a duty, and to leave the
consequence to God.  I shall carry with me the memory, and I trust
the practice, of this parental lesson to the grave.  I have
hitherto followed it, and I have no reason to complain that my
obedience to it has been a temporal sacrifice.  I have found it, on
the contrary, the road to prosperity and wealth, and I shall point
out the same path to my children for their pursuit."

Every man is bound to aim at the possession of a good character as
one of the highest objects of life.  The very effort to secure it
by worthy means will furnish him with a motive for exertion; and
his idea of manhood, in proportion as it is elevated, will steady
and animate his motive.  It is well to have a high standard of
life, even though we may not be able altogether to realize it.
"The youth," says Mr. Disraeli, "who does not look up will look
down; and the spirit that does not soar is destined perhaps to
grovel."  George Herbert wisely writes,


"Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projects high,
So shall thou humble and magnanimous be.
Sink not in spirit; who aimeth at the sky
Shoots higher much than he that means a tree."


He who has a high standard of living and thinking will certainly do
better than he who has none at all.  "Pluck at a gown of gold,"
says the Scotch proverb, "and you may get a sleeve o't."  Whoever
tries for the highest results cannot fail to reach a point far in
advance of that from which he started; and though the end attained
may fall short of that proposed, still, the very effort to rise, of
itself cannot fail to prove permanently beneficial.

There are many counterfeits of character, but the genuine article
is difficult to be mistaken.  Some, knowing its money value, would
assume its disguise for the purpose of imposing upon the unwary.
Colonel Charteris said to a man distinguished for his honesty, "I
would give a thousand pounds for your good name."  "Why?"  "Because
I could make ten thousand by it," was the knave's reply.

Integrity in word and deed is the backbone of character; and loyal
adherence to veracity its most prominent characteristic.  One of
the finest testimonies to the character of the late Sir Robert Peel
was that borne by the Duke of Wellington in the House of Lords, a
few days after the great statesman's death.  "Your lordships," he
said, "must all feel the high and honourable character of the late
Sir Robert Peel.  I was long connected with him in public life.  We
were both in the councils of our Sovereign together, and I had long
the honour to enjoy his private friendship.  In all the course of
my acquaintance with him I never knew a man in whose truth and
justice I had greater confidence, or in whom I saw a more
invariable desire to promote the public service.  In the whole
course of my communication with him, I never knew an instance in
which he did not show the strongest attachment to truth; and I
never saw in the whole course of my life the smallest reason for
suspecting that he stated anything which he did not firmly believe
to be the fact."  And this high-minded truthfulness of the
statesman was no doubt the secret of no small part of his influence
and power.

There is a truthfulness in action as well as in words, which is
essential to uprightness of character.  A man must really be what
he seems or purposes to be.  When an American gentleman wrote to
Granville Sharp, that from respect for his great virtues he had
named one of his sons after him, Sharp replied:  "I must request
you to teach him a favourite maxim of the family whose name you
have given him--ALWAYS ENDEAVOUR TO BE REALLY WHAT YOU WOULD WISH
TO APPEAR.  This maxim, as my father informed me, was carefully and
humbly practised by HIS father, whose sincerity, as a plain and
honest man, thereby became the principal feature of his character,
both in public and private life."  Every man who respects himself,
and values the respect of others, will carry out the maxim in act--
doing honestly what he proposes to do--putting the highest
character into his work, scamping nothing, but priding himself upon
his integrity and conscientiousness.  Once Cromwell said to
Bernard,--a clever but somewhat unscrupulous lawyer, "I understand
that you have lately been vastly wary in your conduct; do not be
too confident of this; subtlety may deceive you, integrity never
will."  Men whose acts are at direct variance with their words,
command no respect, and what they say has but little weight; even
truths, when uttered by them, seem to come blasted from their lips.

The true character acts rightly, whether in secret or in the sight
of men.  That boy was well trained who, when asked why he did not
pocket some pears, for nobody was there to see, replied, "Yes,
there was:  I was there to see myself; and I don't intend ever to
see myself do a dishonest thing."--This is a simple but not
inappropriate illustration of principle, or conscience, dominating
in the character, and exercising a noble protectorate over it; not
merely a passive influence, but an active power regulating the
life.  Such a principle goes on moulding the character hourly and
daily, growing with a force that operates every moment.  Without
this dominating influence, character has no protection, but is
constantly liable to fall away before temptation; and every such
temptation succumbed to, every act of meanness or dishonesty,
however slight, causes self-degradation.  It matters not whether
the act be successful or not, discovered or concealed; the culprit
is no longer the same, but another person; and he is pursued by a
secret uneasiness, by self-reproach, or the workings of what we
call conscience, which is the inevitable doom of the guilty.

And here it may be observed how greatly the character may be
strengthened and supported by the cultivation of good habits.  Man,
it has been said, is a bundle of habits; and habit is second
nature.  Metastasio entertained so strong an opinion as to the
power of repetition in act and thought, that he said, "All is habit
in mankind, even virtue itself."  Butler, in his 'Analogy,'
impresses the importance of careful self-discipline and firm
resistance to temptation, as tending to make virtue habitual, so
that at length it may become more easy to be good than to give way
to sin.  "As habits belonging to the body," he says, "are produced
by external acts, so habits of the mind are produced by the
execution of inward practical purposes, i.e., carrying them into
act, or acting upon them--the principles of obedience, veracity,
justice, and charity."  And again, Lord Brougham says, when
enforcing the immense importance of training and example in youth,
"I trust everything under God to habit, on which, in all ages, the
lawgiver, as well as the schoolmaster, has mainly placed his
reliance; habit, which makes everything easy, and casts the
difficulties upon the deviation from a wonted course."  Thus, make
sobriety a habit, and intemperance will be hateful; make prudence a
habit, and reckless profligacy will become revolting to every
principle of conduct which regulates the life of the individual.
Hence the necessity for the greatest care and watchfulness against
the inroad of any evil habit; for the character is always weakest
at that point at which it has once given way; and it is long before
a principle restored can become so firm as one that has never been
moved.  It is a fine remark of a Russian writer, that "Habits are a
necklace of pearls:  untie the knot, and the whole unthreads."

Wherever formed, habit acts involuntarily, and without effort; and,
it is only when you oppose it, that you find how powerful it has
become.  What is done once and again, soon gives facility and
proneness.  The habit at first may seem to have no more strength
than a spider's web; but, once formed, it binds as with a chain of
iron.  The small events of life, taken singly, may seem exceedingly
unimportant, like snow that falls silently, flake by flake; yet
accumulated, these snow-flakes form the avalanche.

Self-respect, self-help, application, industry, integrity--all are
of the nature of habits, not beliefs.  Principles, in fact, are but
the names which we assign to habits; for the principles are words,
but the habits are the things themselves:  benefactors or tyrants,
according as they are good or evil.  It thus happens that as we
grow older, a portion of our free activity and individuality
becomes suspended in habit; our actions become of the nature of
fate; and we are bound by the chains which we have woven around
ourselves.

It is indeed scarcely possible to over-estimate the importance of
training the young to virtuous habits.  In them they are the
easiest formed, and when formed they last for life; like letters
cut on the bark of a tree they grow and widen with age.  "Train up
a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not
depart from it."  The beginning holds within it the end; the first
start on the road of life determines the direction and the
destination of the journey; ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute.
"Remember," said Lord Collingwood to a young man whom he loved,
"before you are five-and-twenty you must establish a character that
will serve you all your life."  As habit strengthens with age, and
character becomes formed, any turning into a new path becomes more
and more difficult.  Hence, it is often harder to unlearn than to
learn; and for this reason the Grecian flute-player was justified
who charged double fees to those pupils who had been taught by an
inferior master.  To uproot an old habit is sometimes a more
painful thing, and vastly more difficult, than to wrench out a
tooth.  Try and reform a habitually indolent, or improvident, or
drunken person, and in a large majority of cases you will fail.
For the habit in each case has wound itself in and through the life
until it has become an integral part of it, and cannot be uprooted.
Hence, as Mr. Lynch observes, "the wisest habit of all is the habit
of care in the formation of good habits."

Even happiness itself may become habitual.  There is a habit of
looking at the bright side of things, and also of looking at the
dark side.  Dr. Johnson has said that the habit of looking at the
best side of a thing is worth more to a man than a thousand pounds
a year.  And we possess the power, to a great extent, of so
exercising the will as to direct the thoughts upon objects
calculated to yield happiness and improvement rather than their
opposites.  In this way the habit of happy thought may be made to
spring up like any other habit.  And to bring up men or women with
a genial nature of this sort, a good temper, and a happy frame of
mind, is perhaps of even more importance, in many cases, than to
perfect them in much knowledge and many accomplishments.

As daylight can be seen through very small holes, so little things
will illustrate a person's character.  Indeed character consists in
little acts, well and honourably performed; daily life being the
quarry from which we build it up, and rough-hew the habits which
form it.  One of the most marked tests of character is the manner
in which we conduct ourselves towards others.  A graceful behaviour
towards superiors, inferiors, and equals, is a constant source of
pleasure.  It pleases others because it indicates respect for their
personality; but it gives tenfold more pleasure to ourselves.
Every man may to a large extent be a self-educator in good
behaviour, as in everything else; he can be civil and kind, if he
will, though he have not a penny in his purse.  Gentleness in
society is like the silent influence of light, which gives colour
to all nature; it is far more powerful than loudness or force, and
far more fruitful.  It pushes its way quietly and persistently,
like the tiniest daffodil in spring, which raises the clod and
thrusts it aside by the simple persistency of growing.

Even a kind look will give pleasure and confer happiness.  In one
of Robertson of Brighton's letters, he tells of a lady who related
to him "the delight, the tears of gratitude, which she had
witnessed in a poor girl to whom, in passing, I gave a kind look on
going out of church on Sunday.  What a lesson!  How cheaply
happiness can be given!  What opportunities we miss of doing an
angel's work!  I remember doing it, full of sad feelings, passing
on, and thinking no more about it; and it gave an hour's sunshine
to a human life, and lightened the load of life to a human heart
for a time!" {35}

Morals and manners, which give colour to life, are of much greater
importance than laws, which are but their manifestations.  The law
touches us here and there, but manners are about us everywhere,
pervading society like the air we breathe.  Good manners, as we
call them, are neither more nor less than good behaviour;
consisting of courtesy and kindness; benevolence being the
preponderating element in all kinds of mutually beneficial and
pleasant intercourse amongst human beings.  "Civility," said Lady
Montague, "costs nothing and buys everything."  The cheapest of all
things is kindness, its exercise requiring the least possible
trouble and self-sacrifice.  "Win hearts," said Burleigh to Queen
Elizabeth, "and you have all men's hearts and purses."  If we would
only let nature act kindly, free from affectation and artifice, the
results on social good humour and happiness would be incalculable.
The little courtesies which form the small change of life, may
separately appear of little intrinsic value, but they acquire their
importance from repetition and accumulation.  They are like the
spare minutes, or the groat a day, which proverbially produce such
momentous results in the course of a twelvemonth, or in a lifetime.

Manners are the ornament of action; and there is a way of speaking
a kind word, or of doing a kind thing, which greatly enhances their
value.  What seems to be done with a grudge, or as an act of
condescension, is scarcely accepted as a favour.  Yet there are men
who pride themselves upon their gruffness; and though they may
possess virtue and capacity, their manner is often such as to
render them almost insupportable.  It is difficult to like a man
who, though he may not pull your nose, habitually wounds your self-
respect, and takes a pride in saying disagreeable things to you.
There are others who are dreadfully condescending, and cannot avoid
seizing upon every small opportunity of making their greatness
felt.  When Abernethy was canvassing for the office of surgeon to
St. Bartholomew Hospital, he called upon such a person--a rich
grocer, one of the governors.  The great man behind the counter
seeing the great surgeon enter, immediately assumed the grand air
towards the supposed suppliant for his vote.  "I presume, Sir, you
want my vote and interest at this momentous epoch of your life?"
Abernethy, who hated humbugs, and felt nettled at the tone,
replied:  "No, I don't:  I want a pennyworth of figs; come, look
sharp and wrap them up; I want to be off!"

The cultivation of manner--though in excess it is foppish and
foolish--is highly necessary in a person who has occasion to
negociate with others in matters of business.  Affability and good
breeding may even be regarded as essential to the success of a man
in any eminent station and enlarged sphere of life; for the want of
it has not unfrequently been found in a great measure to neutralise
the results of much industry, integrity, and honesty of character.
There are, no doubt, a few strong tolerant minds which can bear
with defects and angularities of manner, and look only to the more
genuine qualities; but the world at large is not so forbearant, and
cannot help forming its judgments and likings mainly according to
outward conduct.

Another mode of displaying true politeness is consideration for the
opinions of others.  It has been said of dogmatism, that it is only
puppyism come to its full growth; and certainly the worst form this
quality can assume, is that of opinionativeness and arrogance.  Let
men agree to differ, and, when they do differ, bear and forbear.
Principles and opinions may be maintained with perfect suavity,
without coming to blows or uttering hard words; and there are
circumstances in which words are blows, and inflict wounds far less
easy to heal.  As bearing upon this point, we quote an instructive
little parable spoken some time since by an itinerant preacher of
the Evangelical Alliance on the borders of Wales:- "As I was going
to the hills," said he, "early one misty morning, I saw something
moving on a mountain side, so strange looking that I took it for a
monster.  When I came nearer to it I found it was a man.  When I
came up to him I found he was my brother."

The inbred politeness which springs from right-heartedness and
kindly feelings, is of no exclusive rank or station.  The mechanic
who works at the bench may possess it, as well as the clergyman or
the peer.  It is by no means a necessary condition of labour that
it should, in any respect, be either rough or coarse.  The
politeness and refinement which distinguish all classes of the
people in many continental countries show that those qualities
might become ours too--as doubtless they will become with increased
culture and more general social intercourse--without sacrificing
any of our more genuine qualities as men.  From the highest to the
lowest, the richest to the poorest, to no rank or condition in life
has nature denied her highest boon--the great heart.  There never
yet existed a gentleman but was lord of a great heart.  And this
may exhibit itself under the hodden grey of the peasant as well as
under the laced coat of the noble.  Robert Burns was once taken to
task by a young Edinburgh blood, with whom he was walking, for
recognising an honest farmer in the open street.  "Why you
fantastic gomeral," exclaimed Burns, "it was not the great coat,
the scone bonnet, and the saunders-boot hose that I spoke to, but
THE MAN that was in them; and the man, sir, for true worth, would
weigh down you and me, and ten more such, any day."  There may be a
homeliness in externals, which may seem vulgar to those who cannot
discern the heart beneath; but, to the right-minded, character will
always have its clear insignia.