tendency. The basis of it is covetousness; a desire to take from others
something, for which you have given, and intend to give, no equivalent.
No gambler was ever yet a happy man, and very few gamblers have escaped
being miserable; and, observe, to _game for nothing_ is still gaming,
and naturally leads to gaming for something. It is sacrificing time, and
that, too, for the worst of purposes. I have kept house for nearly forty
years; I have reared a family; I have entertained as many friends as
most people; and I have never had cards, dice, a chess-board, nor any
implement of gaming, under my roof. The hours that young men spend in
this way are hours _murdered_; precious hours, that ought to be spent
either in reading or in writing, or in rest, preparatory to the duties
of the dawn. Though I do not agree with the base and nauseous
flatterers, who now declare the army to be _the best school for
statesmen_, it is certainly a school in which to learn experimentally
many useful lessons; and, in this school I learned, that men, fond of
gaming, are very rarely, if ever, trust-worthy. I have known many a
clever man rejected in the way of promotion only because he was addicted
to gaming. Men, in that state of life, cannot _ruin_ themselves by
gaming, for they possess no fortune, nor money; but the taste for gaming
is always regarded as an indication of a radically bad disposition; and
I can truly say, that I never in my whole life knew a man, fond of
gaming, who was not, in some way or other, a person unworthy of
confidence. This vice creeps on by very slow degrees, till, at last, it
becomes an ungovernable passion, swallowing up every good and kind
feeling of the heart. The gambler, as pourtrayed by REGNARD, in a comedy
the translation of which into English resembles the original much about
as nearly as Sir JAMES GRAHAM'S plagiarisms resembled the Registers on
which they had been committed, is a fine instance of the contempt and
scorn to which gaming at last reduces its votaries; but, if any young
man be engaged in this fatal career, and be not yet wholly lost, let him
behold HOGARTH'S gambler just when he has made his _last throw_ and when
disappointment has bereft him of his senses. If after this sight he
remain obdurate, he is doomed to be a disgrace to his name.
35. The _Theatre may be_ a source not only of amusement but also of
instruction; but, as things now are in this country, what, that is not
bad, is to be learned in this school? In the first place not a word is
allowed to be uttered on the stage, which has not been previously
approved of by the Lord Chamberlain; that is to say, by a person
appointed by the Ministry, who, at his pleasure, allows, or disallows,
of any piece, or any words in a piece, submitted to his inspection. In
short, those who go to play-houses _pay their money to hear uttered such
words as the government approve of, and no others_. It is now just
twenty-six years since I first well understood how this matter was
managed; and, from that moment to this, I have never been in an English
play-house. Besides this, the meanness, the abject servility, of the
players, and the slavish conduct of the audience, are sufficient to
corrupt and debase the heart of any young man who is a frequent beholder
of them. Homage is here paid to every one clothed with power, be he who
or what he may; real virtue and public-spirit are subjects of ridicule;
and mock-sentiment and mock-liberality and mock-loyalty are applauded to
the skies.
36. 'Show me a man's _companions_' says the proverb, 'and I will tell
you _what the man_ is;' and this is, and must be true; because all men
seek the society of those who think and act somewhat like themselves:
sober men will not associate with drunkards, frugal men will not like
spendthrifts, and the orderly and decent shun the noisy, the disorderly,
and the debauched. It is for the very vulgar to herd together as
singers, ringers, and smokers; but, there is a class rather higher still
more blamable; I mean the tavern-haunters, the gay companions, who herd
together to do little but _talk_, and who are so fond of talk that they
go from home to get at it. The conversation amongst such persons has
nothing of instruction in it, and is generally of a vicious tendency.
Young people naturally and commendably seek the society of those of
their own age; but, be careful in choosing your companions; and lay this
down as a rule never to be departed from, that no youth, nor man, ought
to be called your _friend_, who is addicted to _indecent talk_, or who
is fond of the _society of prostitutes_. Either of these argues a
depraved taste, and even a depraved heart; an absence of all principle
and of all trust-worthiness; and, I have remarked it all my life long,
that young men, addicted to these vices, never succeed in the end,
whatever advantages they may have, whether in fortune or in talent. Fond
mothers and fathers are but too apt to be over-lenient to such
offenders; and, as long as youth lasts and fortune smiles, the
punishment is deferred; but, it comes at last; it is sure to come; and
the gay and dissolute youth is a dejected and miserable man. After the
early part of a life spent in illicit indulgences, a man is _unworthy_
of being the husband of a virtuous woman; and, if he have anything like
justice in him, how is he to reprove, in his children, vices in which he
himself so long indulged? These vices of youth are varnished over by the
saying, that there must be time for 'sowing the _wild oats_,' and that
'_wildest colts_ make the _best horses_.' These figurative oats are,
however, generally like the literal ones; they are _never to be
eradicated from the soil_; and as to the _colts_, wildness in them is an
indication of _high animal spirit_, having nothing at all to do with the
_mind_, which is invariably debilitated and debased by profligate
indulgences. Yet this miserable piece of sophistry, the offspring of
parental weakness, is in constant use, to the incalculable injury of the
rising generation. What so amiable as a steady, trust-worthy boy? He is
of _real use_ at an early age: he can be trusted far out of the sight of
parent or employer, while the 'pickle,' as the poor fond parents call
the profligate, is a great deal worse than useless, because there must
be some one to see that he does no harm. If you have to choose, choose
companions of _your own rank in life_ as nearly as may be; but, at any
rate, none to whom you acknowledge _inferiority_; for, slavery is too
soon learned; and, if the mind be bowed down in the youth, it will
seldom rise up in the man. In the schools of those best of teachers the
JESUITS, there is perfect equality as to rank in life: the boy, who
enters there, leaves all family pride behind him: intrinsic merit alone
is the standard of preference; and the masters are so scrupulous upon
this head, that they do not suffer one scholar, of whatever rank, to
have more money to spend than the poorest. These wise men know well the
mischiefs that must arise from inequality of pecuniary means amongst
their scholars: they know how injurious it would be to learning, if
deference were, by the learned, paid to the dunce; and they, therefore,
take the most effectual means to prevent it. Hence, amongst other
causes, it is, that their scholars have, ever since the existence of
their Order, been the most celebrated for learning of any men in the
world.
37. In your _manners_ be neither boorish nor blunt, but even these are
preferable to simpering and crawling. I wish every English youth could
see those of the United States of America; always _civil_, never
_servile_. Be _obedient_, where obedience is due; for, it is no act of
meanness, and no indication of want of spirit, to yield implicit and
ready obedience to those who have a right to demand it at your hands. In
this respect England has been, and I hope always will be, an example to
the whole world. To this habit of willing and prompt obedience in
apprentices, in servants, in all inferiors in station, she owes, in a
great measure, her multitudes of matchless merchants, tradesmen, and
workmen of every description, and also the achievements of her armies
and navies. It is no disgrace, but the contrary, to obey, cheerfully,
lawful and just commands. None are so saucy and disobedient as slaves;
and, when you come to read history, you will find that in proportion as
nations have been _free_ has been their reverence for the laws. But,
there is a wide difference between lawful and cheerful obedience and
that servility which represents people as laying petitions 'at the
_king's feet_,' which makes us imagine that we behold the supplicants
actually crawling upon their bellies. There is something so abject in
this expression; there is such horrible self-abasement in it, that I do
hope that every youth, who shall read this, will hold in detestation the
reptiles who make use of it. In all other countries, the lowest
individual can put a petition into the _hands_ of the chief magistrate,
be he king or emperor: let us hope, that the time will yet come when
Englishmen will be able to do the same. In the meanwhile I beg you to
despise these worse than pagan parasites.
38. Hitherto I have addressed you chiefly relative to the things to be
_avoided_: let me now turn to the things which you ought _to do_. And,
first of all, the _husbanding of your time_. The respect that you will
receive, the real and _sincere respect_, will depend entirely on what
you are able _to do_. If you be rich, you may purchase what is called
respect; but it is not worth having. To obtain respect worth possessing,
you must, as I observed before, do more than the common run of men in
your state of life; and, to be enabled to do this, you must manage well
_your time_: and, to manage it well, you must have as much of the
_day-light_ and as little of the _candle-light_ as is consistent with
the due discharge of your duties. When people get into the habit of
sitting up _merely for the purpose of talking_, it is no easy matter to
break themselves of it: and if they do not go to bed early, they cannot
rise early. Young people require more sleep than those that are grown
up: there must be the number of hours, and that number cannot well be,
on an average, less than _eight_: and, if it be more in winter time, it
is all the better; for, an hour in bed is better than an hour spent over
fire and candle in an idle gossip. People never should sit talking till
they do not know what to talk about. It is said by the country-people,
that one hour's sleep before midnight is worth more than two are worth
after midnight, and this I believe to be a fact; but it is useless to go
to bed early and even to rise early, if the time be not well employed
after rising. In general, half the morning is _loitered_ away, the party
being in a sort of half-dressed half-naked state; out of bed, indeed,
but still in a sort of bedding. Those who first invented _morning-gowns_
and _slippers_ could have very little else to do. These things are very
suitable to those who have had fortunes gained for them by others; very
suitable to those who have nothing to do, and who merely live for the
purpose of assisting to consume the produce of the earth; but he who has
his bread to earn, or who means to be worthy of respect on account of
his labours, has no business with morning gown and slippers. In short,
be your business or calling what it may, _dress at once for the day_;
and learn to do it _as quickly_ as possible. A looking-glass is a piece
of furniture a great deal worse than useless. _Looking_ at the face will
not alter its shape or its colour; and, perhaps, of all wasted time;
none is so foolishly wasted as that which is employed in surveying one's
own face. Nothing can be of _little_ importance, if one be compelled to
attend to it _every day of our lives_; if we _shaved_ but once a year,
or once a month, the execution of the thing would be hardly worth
naming: but this is a piece of work that must be done once every day;
and, as it may cost only about _five minutes_ of time, and may be, and
frequently is, made to cost _thirty_, or even _fifty minutes_; and, as
only fifteen minutes make about a fifty-eighth part of the hours of our
average day-light; this being the case, this is a matter of real
importance. I once heard SIR JOHN SINCLAIR ask Mr. COCHRANE JOHNSTONE,
whether he meaned to have a son of his (then a little boy) taught Latin.
'No,' said Mr. JOHNSTONE, 'but I mean to do something a great deal
better for him.' 'What is that?' said Sir John. 'Why,' said the other,
'teach him _to shave with cold water and without a glass_.' Which, I
dare say, he did; and for which benefit I am sure that son has had good
reason to be grateful. Only think of the inconvenience attending the
common practice! There must be _hot water_; to have this there must be
_a fire_, and, in some cases, a fire for that purpose alone; to have
these, there must be a _servant_, or you must light a fire yourself. For
the want of these, the job is put off until a later hour: this causes a
stripping and _another dressing bout_; or, you go in a slovenly state
all that day, and the next day the thing must be done, or cleanliness
must be abandoned altogether. If you be on a journey you must wait the
pleasure of the servants at the inn before you can dress and set out in
the morning; the pleasant time for travelling is gone before you can
move from the spot; instead of being at the end of your day's journey in
good time, you are benighted, and have to endure all the great
inconveniences attendant on tardy movements. And, all this, from the
apparently insignificant affair of shaving! How many a piece of
important business has failed from a short delay! And how many thousand
of such delays daily proceed from this unworthy cause! '_Toujours prêt_'
was the motto of a famous French general; and pray let it be yours: be
'_always ready_;' and never, during your whole life, have to say, '_I
cannot go till I be shaved and dressed_.' Do the whole at once for the
day, whatever may be your state of life; and then you have a day
unbroken by those indispensable performances. Begin thus, in the days of
your youth, and, having felt the superiority which this practice will
give you over those in all other respects your equals, the practice will
stick by you to the end of your life. Till you be shaved and dressed for
the day, you cannot set steadily about any business; you know that you
must presently quit your labour to return to the dressing affair; you,
therefore, put it off until that be over; the interval, the precious
interval, is spent in lounging about; and, by the time that you are
ready for business, the best part of the day is gone.
39. Trifling as this matter appears upon _naming_ it, it is, in fact,
one of the great concerns of life; and, for my part, I can truly say,
that I owe more of my great labours to my strict adherence to the
precepts that I have here given you, than to all the natural abilities
with which I have been endowed; for these, whatever may have been their
amount, would have been of comparatively little use, even aided by great
sobriety and abstinence, if I had not, in early life, contracted the
blessed habit of husbanding well my time. To this, more than to any
other thing, I owed my very extraordinary promotion in the army. I was
_always ready_: if I had to mount guard at _ten_, I was ready at _nine_:
never did any man, or any thing, wait one moment for me. Being, at an
age _under twenty years_, raised from Corporal to Serjeant Major _at
once_, over the heads of thirty Serjeants, I naturally should have been
an object of envy and hatred; but this habit of early rising and of
rigid adherence to the precepts which I have given you, really subdued
these passions; because every one felt, that what I did he had never
done, and never could do. Before my promotion, a clerk was wanted to
make out the morning report of the regiment. I rendered the clerk
unnecessary; and, long before any other man was dressed for the parade,
my work for the morning was all done, and I myself was on the parade,
walking, in fine weather, for an hour perhaps. My custom was this: to
get up, in summer, at day-light, and in winter at four o'clock; shave,
dress, even to the putting of my sword-belt over my shoulder, and having
my sword lying on the table before me, ready to hang by my side. Then I
ate a bit of cheese, or pork, and bread. Then I prepared my report,
which was filled up as fast as the companies brought me in the
materials. After this I had an hour or two to read, before the time came
for any duty out of doors, unless when the regiment or part of it went
out to exercise in the morning. When this was the case, and the matter
was left to me, I always had it on the ground in such time as that the
bayonets glistened in the _rising sun_, a sight which gave me delight,
of which I often think, but which I should in vain endeavour to
describe. If the _officers_ were to go out, eight or ten o'clock was the
hour, sweating the men in the heat of the day, breaking in upon the time
for cooking their dinner, putting all things out of order and all men
out of humour. When I was commander, the men had a long day of leisure
before them: they could ramble into the town or into the woods; go to
get raspberries, to catch birds, to catch fish, or to pursue any other
recreation, and such of them as chose, and were qualified, to work at
their trades. So that here, arising solely from the early habits of one
very young man, were pleasant and happy days given to hundreds.
40. _Money_ is said to be _power_, which is, in some cases, true; and
the same may be said of _knowledge_; but superior _sobriety_, _industry_
and _activity_, are a still more certain source of power; for without
these, _knowledge_ is of little use; and, as to the power which _money_
gives, it is that of _brute force_, it is the power of the bludgeon and
the bayonet, and of the bribed press, tongue and pen. Superior sobriety,
industry, activity, though accompanied with but a moderate portion of
knowledge, command respect, because they have great and visible
influence. The drunken, the lazy, and the inert, stand abashed before
the sober and the active. Besides, all those whose interests are at
stake prefer, of necessity, those whose exertions produce the greatest
and most immediate and visible effect. Self-interest is no respecter of
persons: it asks, not who knows best what ought to be done, but who is
most likely to do it: we may, and often do, admire the talents of lazy,
and even dissipated men, but we do not trust them with the care of our
interests. If, therefore, you would have respect and influence in the
circle in which you move, be more sober, more industrious, more active
than the general run of those amongst whom you live.
41. As to EDUCATION, this word is now applied exclusively to things
which are taught in schools; but _education_ means _rearing up_, and the
French speak of the education of _pigs_ and _sheep_. In a very famous
French book on rural affairs, there is a Chapter entitled '_Education du
Cochon_,' that is, _education of the hog_. The word has the same meaning
in both languages; for both take it from the Latin. Neither is the word
LEARNING properly confined to things taught in schools, or by books;
for, _learning_ means _knowledge_; and, but a comparatively small part
of useful knowledge comes from books. Men are not to be called
_ignorant_ merely because they cannot make upon paper certain marks with
a pen, or because they do not know the meaning of such marks when made
by others. A ploughman may be very _learned_ in his line, though he does
not know what the letters _p. l. o. u. g. h_ mean when he sees them
combined upon paper. The first thing to be required of a man is, that he
understand well his own _calling_, or _profession_; and, be you in what
state of life you may, to acquire this knowledge ought to be your first
and greatest care. A man who has had a new-built house tumble down will
derive little more consolation from being told that the architect is a
great astronomer, than this distressed nation now derives from being
assured that its distresses arise from the measures of a long list of
the greatest orators and greatest heroes that the world ever beheld.
42. Nevertheless, book-learning is by no means to be despised; and it is
a thing which may be laudably sought after by persons in all states of
life. In those pursuits which are called _professions_, it is necessary,
and also in certain trades; and, in persons in the middle ranks of life,
a total absence of such learning is somewhat disgraceful. There is,
however, one danger to be carefully guarded against; namely, the opinion
that your genius, or your literary acquirements, are such as to warrant
you in disregarding the calling in which you are, and by which you gain
your bread. Parents must have an uncommon portion of solid sense to
counterbalance their natural affection sufficiently to make them
competent judges in such a case. Friends are partial; and those who are
not, you deem enemies. Stick, therefore, to _the shop; _rely upon your
mercantile or mechanical or professional calling; try your strength in
literature, if you like; but, _rely_ on the shop. If BLOOMFIELD, who
wrote a poem called the FARMER'S BOY, had placed no _reliance_ on the
faithless muses, his unfortunate and much-to-be-pitied family would, in
all probability, have not been in a state to solicit relief from
charity. I remember that this loyal shoemaker was flattered to the
skies, and (ominous sign, if he had understood it) feasted at the tables
of some of the great. Have, I beseech you, no hope of this sort; and, if
you find it creeping towards your heart, drive it instantly away as the
mortal foe of your independence and your peace.
43. With this precaution, however, book-learning is not only proper, but
highly commendable; and portions of it are absolutely necessary in every
case of trade or profession. One of these portions is distinct reading,
plain and neat writing, and _arithmetic_. The two former are mere
child's work; the latter not quite so easily acquired, but equally
indispensable, and of it you ought to have a thorough knowledge before
you attempt to study even the grammar of your own language. Arithmetic
is soon learned; it is not a thing that requires much natural talent; it
is not a thing that loads the memory or puzzles the mind; and it is a
thing of _every-day utility_. Therefore, this is, to a certain extent,
an absolute necessary; an indispensable acquisition. Every man is not to
be a _surveyor_ or an _actuary_; and, therefore, you may stop far short
of the knowledge, of this sort, which is demanded by these professions;
but, as far as common accounts and calculations go, you ought to be
perfect; and this you may make yourself, without any assistance from a
master, by bestowing upon this science, during six months, only one half
of the time that is, by persons of your age, usually wasted over the
tea-slops, or other kettle-slops, alone! If you become _fond_ of this
science, there may be a little danger of wasting your time on it. When,
therefore, you have got as much of it as your business or profession can
possibly render necessary, turn the time to some other purpose. As to
_books_, on this subject, they are in everybody's hand; but, there is
_one book_ on the subject of calculations, which I must point out to
you; 'THE CAMBIST,' by Dr. KELLY. This is a bad title, because, to men
in general, it gives no idea of what the book treats of. It is a book
which shows the value of the several pieces of money of one country when
stated in the money of another country. For instance, it tells us what a
Spanish Dollar, a Dutch Dollar, a French Frank, and so on, is worth in
English money. It does the same with regard to _weights_ and _measures_:
and it extends its information to _all the countries in the world_. It
is a work of rare merit; and every youth, be his state of life what it
may, if it permit him to pursue book-learning of any sort, and
particularly if he be destined, or at all likely to meddle with
commercial matters, ought, as soon as convenient, to possess this
valuable and instructive book.