HABITS.
Besides what I have noticed in several of the foregoing chapters, there
are many things of a general nature, which I shall group together under
the title of _habits_. A _habit_ is what has become easy and natural
by frequent repetition. People not unfrequently become much attached
to practices, which at first were very unpleasant. You will sometimes
see men chewing, smoking, or snuffing _tobacco_, a most filthy and
poisonous plant, a little bit of which you could not be persuaded to
take into your mouth, it is so nauseous; yet, by long use, people learn
to love it. That is a _habit_. So, likewise, you see persons very fond
of drinking intoxicating liquors, which to you would be a nauseous
medicine; and which are poisonous and destructive to all. It is
_practice_ which has made these drinks so pleasant. This is a _habit_.
Habits are both _bad_ and _good_; and a habit is a very good or a very
bad thing, as it is good or bad. Habits are mostly formed in early
life; and a habit, once formed, is difficult to be broken;--once fixed,
it may follow you as long as you live.
I shall specify a few of the bad habits which boys of your age are
liable to contract, with their opposite good habits. It is very likely
I shall fail to notice many others, equally important; but these may
put you upon thinking, and lead you to discover and correct other bad
practices.
I. DILATORINESS OR TARDINESS.--The tardy boy is dilatory about rising
in the morning. Although old Chanticleer is pouring his shrill note
of warning into his ear, and the birds are filling the air with their
merry song, and the morning rays of the sun are peeping stealthily
through the half-closed shutter, still he thinks, “_There’s time enough
yet_;” and instead of starting up with the lark, he lingers and delays,
saying with the sluggard, “A little more sleep, a little more slumber,
a little more folding of the hands to sleep.” At length he rises, in
a yawning mood, and proceeds slowly to pull on his clothes, lingering
with every article, looking here and there, and stopping every now
and then to play, or to amuse himself in gazing about his chamber.
And sometimes he stops, half-dressed, to read a story from a piece of
an old newspaper. In this and other ways, he amuses himself until the
breakfast bell rings, and he is not ready. Perhaps he has been called
half a dozen times to “do his chores,” and as often answered, “_Well,
I’m coming_;” till, wearied with his delay, his mother or sister has
done the work that belonged to him, or his father has been called from
his room, or the hired man from his work, to do it for him. At length,
he makes his appearance at the table after the blessing, when the rest
of the family have begun their meal. But, having just emerged from
the foul air of his bedroom, he has no appetite for his breakfast,
and feels peevish and fretful. A scowl appears upon his brow, and he
turns up his nose at the food spread before him, forgetful alike of his
obligations to his Heavenly Father for providing, and to his mother for
preparing it. Or, if he sometimes gets dressed before breakfast, he
is not in season to do his chores, or to complete the lesson which he
left unfinished the night before. He hears the breakfast bell, but he
is just now engaged, and thinks, “_There’s time enough yet,--I’ll just
finish what I’ve begun_;” and so he is not in season for the table.
He has either detained the table till all are impatient of waiting,
or else he takes his seat after the rest have commenced eating. In
consequence of this loss of time, he is left at the table to finish
his breakfast, and his seat is for some time vacant at prayers, when
he comes in and disturbs the whole family. Or, if at any time, he gets
his seat with the rest, he is dilatory in finding his place, and is
never ready to read when his turn comes. This dilatoriness goes on,
till the school hour arrives, and he is not ready; or he delays on the
way to school, and arrives, perhaps, just after his class have recited.
Sabbath morning, when the bell tolls, and the family are starting for
meeting, he is roused from a reverie, and has yet to get ready. And so
in every thing else this dilatory habit follows him. When his father or
mother calls him, instead of promptly making his appearance, to serve
them, as a dutiful son should do, he answers, “_Yes, in a minute_,”
or, “_Yes, I’m going to_.” He must dispose of something else first;
and before he comes, the service for which he was called has been
despatched by some one else. He does not seem to know how to start
quick. He is always in a hurry when the time comes to do any thing,
because he was dilatory in making preparation when he had time. He is
always late,--always out of time,--vexing those that are about him, and
injuring himself. He seems to have _started too late_. You would think
that he began too late in the beginning,--that he was _born too late_,
and has never been able to gain the lost time. Every thing comes too
soon, before he is prepared for it. If he ever becomes a man, and this
habit continues, it will always be a source of vexation and disaster
to him. If he is a mechanic, he will fail to meet his engagements, and
disappoint, vex, and lose his customers. If he is a man of business, he
will fail to meet his appointments, and thus lose many a bargain. He
will suffer his notes to be protested at the bank, and thus injure his
friends and destroy his credit. His dilatory habits will be the ruin of
his business. And if he carries the same habit into religion, he will
ruin his soul, for _death will overtake him before he is ready_.
Although this seems _natural_ to him, it is only tardiness indulged
till it has grown into a habit. But by timely resolution, diligence,
and perseverance, the habit may be broken.
The opposites of this are the good habits of _promptness and
punctuality_. When the gray dawn steals in at his window, the prompt
lad springs from his bed; and in a few minutes he is washed and
dressed, and on his knees at his morning devotions. Soon he appears at
his work; and before breakfast, all his _chores_ are done. Thus he has
redeemed the time between breakfast and school, which he has at his
own disposal, for his lessons or his sports. He is _always in time_.
He never keeps the table waiting for him, and never comes after the
blessing. He is never late at prayers--never late at school--never
late at meeting; and yet he is never in a hurry. He redeems so much
time by his promptness, that he has as much as he needs to do every
thing well and in season. He saves all the time that the dilatory
spends in sauntering, in considering what to do next, in reading
frivolous matters, and in gazing idly at _vacancy_. Do you desire to
possess these good habits? Only carry out for one day the idea I have
given of promptness, and then repeat it every day, and, in a little
time, you have the habit established.
II. SLOVENLINESS.--A slovenly boy makes himself a deal of needless
trouble, and greatly tries the patience of his mother. If you go into
his room, you find it always in confusion. His things are scattered
about, here and there, some on the bed, some on the chairs, and some
on the floor,--but none in their places. He either has no particular
place for any thing, or else he takes no pains to put things in their
places. He leaves a thing where he uses it. Hence, if he wants any
thing, he never knows where to look for it, unless he happens to
remember where he used it last. He must waste his time in hunting for
it. Hence you will often hear him impatiently inquiring if any one has
seen his things; when he ought himself to know where they are. If he
goes into another person’s room, whatever article he lays his hand
upon is misplaced. And so it is, if he uses any of his father’s tools.
He never thinks of putting any thing where he found it. He throws it
down carelessly wherever he happens to be, or else puts it in the wrong
place; so that, when wanted, it cannot be found. Thus, he not only
wastes his own time, but hinders and vexes others. If he goes into the
library, and takes down a book, he either puts it in a different place,
and so disarranges the shelves, or lays it down on the shelf in front
of other books, for his father or mother to arrange. His school books
are torn and dirty--disfigured with pencil marks, blots of ink, grease
spots, finger prints, and dog’s-ears; and if he borrows a book from the
Sabbath school library, or of a friend, it is returned with some of
these _his marks_ upon it.
Whatever he undertakes to do is done in the same slovenly style. If he
brings in water, he spills it on the floor. His wood he throws down in
a sprawling manner, instead of laying it in a neat and handsome pile.
Nothing that he does looks neat and finished.
Nor does he appear to any better advantage in his person. His clothes
are put on in a slouching, uncouth manner; and he always contrives to
have them dirty. He cannot have on clean clothes half an hour without
soiling them. He rubs against whatever dirty thing he passes. If he
carries milk, he spills it on his clothes. He drops grease on them at
the table. He wallows in the dirt. He contrives to hitch against a
nail, or the latch of a door, and makes a rent for his mother to mend.
If left to himself, his face would never come in contact with water,
nor his teeth with a brush. You would almost think, sometimes, that you
could see the grass growing on his upper lip.
He comes into the house with his shoes covered with mud, and never
thinks of wiping his feet, but leaves the prints of them on his
mother’s clean floor or nice carpet. He seems to forget what scrapers
and mats are made for, for he passes by without using them. He lays his
hat on a chair, or throws it upon the floor, instead of hanging it in
its place. Thus he tries the patience of his mother and sisters, and
makes himself unwelcome at his own home.
And with this habit is generally associated _carelessness_. He never
seems to be thinking what he is about. He does not see things that are
in his way, but stumbles over them, breaking, bruising, or otherwise
injuring them, and often hurting himself. You dread to see him
approach, lest some mischief should happen. He does not look to see
what he steps on, nor whether his hands have firm hold of the article
he takes up. If he passes through a door, he does not mind whether
it was open or shut; and most likely, if he finds it open, in a warm
summer’s day, he will close it; but, if he finds it carefully shut, on
a freezing day in mid-winter, he will leave it wide open.
A careless person will be constantly meeting with accidents
and misfortunes, and continually subject to the most vexatious
mortifications, which a little thoughtfulness and care would prevent.
This habit is a very great fault, and, when confirmed, very difficult
to correct. It is therefore the more important, that it should be taken
in season, and nipped in the bud.
I need not tell you what are the opposites of slovenly and careless
habits. The neat, orderly, and careful boy has an invariable rule,--“A
PLACE FOR EVERY THING, AND EVERY THING IN ITS PLACE.” Go into his room
at any hour, and you will find every thing in order. He can go in the
dark, and lay his hand on any thing he wants, so that he never runs
the risk of setting the house on fire, by carrying a light into his
bedroom. He is so much in the habit of putting things in their proper
places, that he never thinks of doing otherwise. He never leaves a
thing at random, where he happens to be using it; but always puts it
where it belongs. When he undresses, every article of his clothing is
folded, and laid together in the order that it will be wanted in the
morning; so that he loses no time in hunting for it. His clothes are
put on and adjusted so as to show a neat fit, and every button does its
office. His shoes are regularly brushed every morning, and the strings
neatly tied, so that your eye is never offended with the appearance,
nor your ear distressed with the sound, of dirty, slip-shod, flapping
shoes.
To whatever part of the house he goes, he leaves it in the order in
which he found it; for it is his invariable rule, when he uses any
thing belonging to another, to replace it exactly as he found it. When
he takes hold of a cup, or a lamp, or any such article, he is careful
to get fairly hold, and then to move moderately, and not with a jerk;
and by this means, he seldom meets with any of those accidents which
are so annoying to tidy housekeepers. If he goes to the library, he is
careful to replace every book or paper he takes in his hand, exactly
as he found it. If he takes a book to read, he carries it with care,
firmly grasped in his hand, and avoids letting it fall, or hitting it
against any thing to bruise the cover. He holds it in such a manner as
not to strain the back or crumple the leaves; and if called away from
his reading, he puts in a mark, shuts the book, and lays it in a safe
place. He never thinks of using a book for any other purpose than that
for which it was made. When he has finished reading it, he carefully
replaces it in the library, just where he found it. He does not place
it wrong end upwards, nor the title towards the back of the shelf; but
puts it in the place where it belongs, makes it stand straight, and
shoves it back even with its fellows. All his school books are kept
neat and clean. No blots of ink, nor pencil marks, nor thumb-prints,
nor dog’s-ears, any where appear. If he passes through a door into or
out of a room where others are sitting, he leaves it open or shut as he
found it; judging that the persons occupying the room, have adjusted
its temperature to their own liking.
He is equally careful of his person. He never considers himself
dressed, till he has washed his hands and face, cleaned his teeth, and
combed his hair; and he never thinks of sitting down at the table with
dirty hands. He learns to keep his clothes neat and clean. At table,
he avoids dropping his food upon them. At school, he is careful of
his ink, not to bespatter his clothes with it. And at play, he keeps
himself out of the dirt. He will wear his clothes a week, and have
them appear cleaner, at the end of it, than the sloven’s when he has
worn them a single day.
He has a care, also, of the appearance of the house. He never forgets
to use the scraper at the door, to remove the mud from his feet; and
then he makes it an invariable rule never to pass a mat without wiping
his shoes. He never says, like the sloven, “I didn’t think,” to excuse
himself. He would consider it unpardonable in him _not to think_; for
what is the ability of thinking worth, if it never comes when it is
wanted.
The neat, orderly boy, makes himself agreeable to his mother and
sisters, who are always glad to see him coming; and home is a
delightful place to him, because he meets with smiles and pleasant
words. But the sloven exposes himself to sour looks and chiding, by his
dirty habits; and he finds home a disagreeable place, because he makes
it so.
III. RUDENESS.--This term does not describe any one habit in
particular, but a great many little ones. Webster gives the following
definition: “RUDE: rough; of coarse manners; unpolished; clownish;
rustic.” It is not, therefore, a single habit, but a series of habits.
These are so numerous, it can hardly be expected that I should think
of them all. The rude boy is rough, clownish, and boisterous, in his
manners. He is rude in speech and rude in behavior. He will stalk
into the house with his hat on; and if there is company, he does not
notice them. He talks in a loud and boisterous manner, often breaking
in abruptly upon the conversation of others. If he hears part of a
conversation, and desires to know what it is about, he abruptly breaks
in, “Who is it? Who is it? What is it?” And, often, he keeps his tongue
running continually, like the incessant clatter of a mill.
It is rude and vulgar to interlard conversation with _by-words_, or
unmeaning phrases, thrown in at random between the sentences. It is
much more so, to throw in _little oaths_, or low, vulgar expressions.
All this shows a disposition to be profane. It is saying, in effect, “I
would swear, if I durst.” If indulged, this habit will be very likely
to lead on to profaneness.
Another rude habit, which boys often indulge, is, what is familiarly
called “CRACKING JOKES” upon one another. The object seems to be, to
see who can say the wittiest thing, at another’s expense. But, in such
attempts, generally, _wit_ fails; and the strife is, which can say the
silliest thing, in the silliest manner. All such low witticisms may be
set down as decidedly rude and vulgar.
_Rudeness of behavior_ manifests itself in so many forms, that it is
scarcely definable. I can only glance at a few things which indicate
a want of good breeding. It is rude to be so _forward_ as to treat
your superiors as equals, or to take the lead in all companies. On
the other hand, it is rude to be _bashful_--to hang down the head,
with a _leer_ of the eye, in the presence of company, and refuse to
speak when spoken to, or to speak in a confused and mumbling tone,
as though you had never seen anybody before. It is rude for a boy to
take the best seat in the room, or to take the only seat, while others
are standing. Tilting one’s chair; sitting awkwardly on one side of
the chair, or with the feet stretched out at full length; putting the
feet on another’s chair; sitting on two chairs; rocking; drumming with
the fingers or feet; scratching books, furniture, window-frames, or
walls,--these, and a hundred other things that might be named, are rude
habits, which indicate not only the want of good breeding, but the
absence of good taste and a sense of propriety.
There are other rude habits, which boys often contract, while abroad,
that are wholly out of character for one that would be a _gentleman_;
such as hallooing in the streets; jumping on the backside of carriages;
calling out to strangers that are passing; collecting in groups about
public places, and staring at people. All such behavior is intolerable;
and those who are guilty of it will be set down by all sensible people
as low, ill-bred, rude boys.
IV. EVIL HABITS.--I am sorry to say that some boys indulge habits,
that are worse than any I have mentioned. Boys may be seen strutting
through the streets, puffing segars; and even sometimes filling their
mouths with that loathsome Indian weed, _tobacco_, as though they
thought such vile habits necessary to make them men. And often you
will hear the profane oath issuing from their mouth, along with the
foul breath created by this nauseous potion. A disposition to smoke
or to chew this filthy, poisonous substance, indicates the existence
of an intemperate appetite, and the love of low company. You will,
perhaps, see the same boys at the shops, drinking beer. But this is
only the prelude to something stronger. Tobacco is one of the most
active vegetable poisons. It disorders the system and creates an
appetite for stimulants. It is dangerous to use it in any form. But
when a boy goes so far as to contract a relish for intoxicating drinks,
his ruin is well nigh accomplished. After once giving indulgence
to any of these practices, the downhill road is easy and rapid.
About the time when temperance societies began to be formed, I was
conversing with a mechanic, who informed me that almost every one of
his fellow-apprentices, who were in the habit of occasionally drinking
intoxicating liquors, had become drunkards. Many years ago, there
were, in one of our large cities, fifty young men, clerks in stores,
who used to frequent a particular place, to spend their evenings in a
social way, with the wine bottle as a companion of their social cheer.
One evening, one of them, after retiring, began to reflect upon the
consequences of the course he was pursuing. He came to the conclusion,
that, if he went on, it would be his ruin. He resolved that he would
never go again. The next evening, he found himself on the way to the
same place. But as he came to the corner of the street which turned
towards the place, he thought of his resolution. He hesitated a moment,
and then said to himself, “_Right about face!_” He returned, and was
never seen there again. That man is now one of the most wealthy,
respected, and useful men in the country; while forty of those who
continued their resort to the public house, became intemperate, and I
believe have all gone down to the drunkard’s grave.
_Gaming_ is another evil habit, which leads to all manner of evil
company and evil practices. It has proved the destruction of thousands
of promising youth.
NEVER SUFFER YOURSELF TO BECOME THE SLAVE OF _any_ HABIT. Abstain
entirely from intoxicating drinks, tobacco, gaming, and profane
language. For when you once begin, with any of these, it is like “the
letting out of waters.” At first they run very slowly; but soon they
wear away a channel, and rush on with an impetuosity, which defies
all attempts to stop them. On the coast of Norway, there is a great
whirlpool, called the _Maelstrom_, which sometimes swallows up great
ships. When a vessel comes near this terrible abyss, it is first drawn
very gently, with a circular motion. But after it has made one or two
rounds, it goes more and more rapidly, and draws nearer and nearer
the centre, till finally it reaches the vortex, is swallowed up, and
is seen no more. So it is with these bad habits. When one gets fairly
within the circle of their influence, his fate is well nigh sealed. The
only safety, with young men and boys, is to keep far away from the very
outer edges of the whirlpool.