WE MUST HELP OURSELVES.
To the young man of the right kind, the inheritance of a fortune, or
the possession of influential friends, may be great advantages, but
more frequently they are hindrances. To win you must fight for
yourself, and the effort will give you strength.
The spirit of self-help is the root of all genuine growth in the
individual; and, exhibited in the lives of many, it constitutes the
true source of national vigor and strength. Help from without is
often enfeebling in its effects, but help from within invariably
invigorates. Whatever is done _for_ men or classes, to a certain
extent takes away the stimulus and necessity of doing for
themselves; and where men are subjected to over-guidance and over-
government, the inevitable tendency is to render them comparatively
helpless.
The privileges of a superior education, like the inheritance of a
fortune, depends upon the man. It should encourage those who have
only themselves and God to look to for support, to remember that
self-education is the best education, and that some of the greatest
men have had few or no school advantages.
Daily experience shows that it is energetic individualism which
produces the most powerful effects upon the life and action of
others, and really constitutes the best practical education.
Schools, academies, and colleges give but the merest beginnings of
culture in comparison with it. Far more influential is the life-
education daily given in our homes, in the streets, behind counters,
in workshops, at the loom and the plough, in counting-houses and
manufactories, and in the busy haunts of men. This is that finishing
instruction as members of society, which Schiller designated "the
education of the human race," consisting in action, conduct, self-
culture, self-control--all that tends to discipline a man truly, and
fit him for the proper performance of the duties and business of
life--a kind of education not to be learned from books, or acquired
by any amount of mere literary training. With his usual weight of
words Bacon observes, that "Studies teach not their own use; but
that is a wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation;"
a remark that holds true of actual life, as well as of the
cultivation of the intellect itself. For all experience serves to
illustrate and enforce the lesson, that a man perfects himself by
work more than by reading--that it is life rather than literature,
action rather than study, and character rather than biography, which
tend perpetually to renovate mankind.
No matter how humble your calling in life may be, take heart from the
fact that many of the world's greatest men have had no superior
advantages. Lincoln studied law lying on his face before a log-fire;
General Garfield drove a mule on a canal tow-path in his boyhood,
and George Peabody, owing to the poverty of his family, was an
errand boy in a grocery store at the age of eleven.
Great men of science, literature, and art--apostles of great thoughts
and lords of the great heart--have belonged to no exclusive class or
rank in life. They have come alike, from colleges, workshops, and
farm-houses--from the huts of poor men and the mansions of the rich.
Some of God's greatest apostles have come from "the ranks." The
poorest have sometimes taken the highest places, nor have
difficulties apparently the most insuperable proved obstacles in
their way. Those very difficulties, in many instances, would even
seem to have been their best helpers, by evoking their powers of
labor and endurance, and stimulating into life faculties which might
otherwise have lain dormant. The instances of obstacles thus
surmounted, and of triumphs thus achieved, are indeed so numerous as
almost to justify the proverb that "with will one can do anything."
If we took to England, the mother country, a land where the
advantages are not nearly so great as in this and the difficulties
greater, we shall find noble spirits rising to usefulness and
eminence in the face of difficulties equally great.
Shoemakers have given us Sir Cloudesley Shovel the great admiral,
Sturgeon the electrician, Samuel Drew the essayist, Gifford the
editor of the _Quarterly Review_, Bloomfield the poet, and William
Carey the missionary; whilst Morrison, another laborious missionary,
was a maker of shoe-lasts. Within the last few years, a profound
naturalist has been discovered in the person of a shoemaker at
Banff, named Thomas Edwards, who, while maintaining himself by his
trade, has devoted his leisure to the study of natural science in
all its brandies, his researches in connection with the smaller
crustaceae having been rewarded by the discovery of a new species,
to which the name of "Praniza Edwardsii" has been given by
naturalists.
Nor have tailors been undistinguished. John Stow, the historian,
worked at the trade during some part of his life. Jackson, the
painter, made clothes until he reached manhood. The brave Sir John
Hawkswood, who so greatly distinguished himself at Poictiers, and
was knighted by Edward III for his valor, was in early life
apprenticed to a London tailor. Admiral Hobson, who broke the boom
at Vigo in 1702, belonged to the same calling. He was working as
tailor's apprentice near Bonchurch, in the Isle of Wight, when the
news flew through the village that a squadron of men-of-war was
sailing off the island. He sprang from the shopboard, and ran down
with his comrades to the beach, to gaze upon the glorious sight. The
boy was suddenly inflamed with the ambition to be a sailor; and
springing into a boat, he rowed off to the squadron, gained the
admiral's ship, and was accepted as a volunteer. Years after, he
returned to his native village full of honors, and dined off bacon
and eggs in the cottage where he had worked as an apprentice.
Oliver Goldsmith was regarded as a dunce in his school days, and
Daniel Webster was so dull as a school-boy as not to indicate in any
way the great abilities he was to display.
Humbert was a scapegrace when a youth; at sixteen he ran away from
home and was by turns servant to a tradesman at Nancy, a workman at
Lyons, and a hawker of rabbit-skins. In 1792, he enlisted as a
volunteer and in a year he was general of brigade. Kleber, Lefebvre,
Suchet, Victor, Lannes, Soult, Massena, St. Cyr, D'Erlon, Murat,
Augereau, Bessieres and Ney, all rose from the ranks. In some cases
promotion was rapid, in others it was slow. St. Cyr, the son of a
tanner of Toul, began life as an actor, after which he enlisted in
the chasseurs and was promoted to a captaincy within a year. Victor,
Due de Belluno, enlisted in the artillery in 1781: during the events
preceding the Revolution he was discharged; but immediately on the
outbreak of war he re-enlisted, and in the course of a few months
his intrepidity and ability secured his promotion as adjutant-major
and chief of battalion. Murat was the son of a village innkeeper in
Perigord, where he looked after the horses. He first enlisted in a
regiment of chasseurs, from which he was dismissed for
insubordination; but again, enlisting he shortly rose to the rank of
colonel. Ney enlisted at eighteen in a hussar regiment and gradually
advanced step by step; Kleber soon discovered his merits, surnaming
him "The Indefatigable," and promoted him to be adjutant-general
when only twenty-five.
General Christopher Carson, or "Kit" Carson as he is known to the
world, although strictly temperate in his life and as gentle as a
blue-eyed child in his manner, ran away from his home in Missouri to
the Western wilds, when he was a boy of fourteen. His father wanted
him to be a farmer, but Providence had greater if not nobler uses
for him. Out in the Rocky Mountains--then a wilderness--he learned
the Indian languages, and became as familiar with every trail and
pass as the red men.
It was the knowledge gained in those early days that enabled Kit
Carson to carry succor to Fremont's men perishing in the mountains.
Not only did Carson bring food to the dying men, but when they were
strong enough to move he guided them to a place of safety.
This truly great man averted many an Indian war, and did as much for
the settlement and civilization of the West as any man of his day--
more, indeed. In the days of secession he was a patriot, and though
he might have grown rich at the expense of the Government, he
preferred to die a poor and honored man.
Admiral Farragut, although born in East Tennessee, went into the
United States Navy at the early age of eleven. He was the youngest
midshipman in the service. "Before I had reached the age of
sixteen," he says, "I prided myself on my profanity, and could drink
with the strongest."
One morning on recovering from a debauch he reviewed the situation
and saw the shoals ahead. Then and there he fell on his knees and
asked God to help him. From that day on he gave up tobacco, liquor,
and profanity, devoted himself to the study of his profession, and
so became the greatest Admiral of modern times. "The canal boat
captains, when I was a boy," said General Garfield, "were a profane,
carousing, ignorant lot, and, as a boy, I was eager to imitate them.
But my eyes were opened before I contracted their habits, and I left
them."
John B. Gough is an example of such a change of life that should
encourage every young man who has made a mis-step.
Among like men of the same class may be ranked the late Richard
Cobden, whose start in life was equally humble. The son of a small
farmer at Midhurst in Sussex, he was sent at an early age to London
and employed as a boy in a warehouse in the City. He was diligent,
well-conducted, and eager for information. His master, a man of the
old school, warned him against too much reading; but the boy went on
in his own course, storing his mind with the wealth found in books.
He was promoted from one position of trust to another, became a
traveler for his house, secured a large connection, and eventually
started in business as a calico-printer at Manchester. Taking an
interest in public questions, more especially in popular education,
his attention was gradually drawn to the subject of the Corn Laws,
to the repeal of which he may be said to have contributed more than
all the rest of Parliament.
It would be a mistake, however, to judge from this that all the
world's greatest men, started life poor, or that some men of wealth
and prominent family have not contributed their share, and have not,
by reason of that wealth, sedulously followed a useful life-calling.
Riches are so great a temptation to ease and self-indulgence, to
which men are by nature prone, that the glory is all the greater of
those who, born to ample fortunes, nevertheless take an active part
in the work of their generation--who "scorn delights and live
laborious days."
It was a fine thing said of a subaltern officer in the Peninsular
campaigns, observed trudging along through mud and mire by the side
of his regiment, "There goes 15,000 pounds a year!" and in our own
day, the bleak slopes of Sebastopol and the burning soil of India
have borne witness to the like noble self-denial and devotion on the
part of the richer classes; many a gallant and noble fellow, of rank
and estate, having risked his life, or lost it, in one or other of
those fields of action, in the service of his country.
Nor have the wealthier classes been undistinguished in the more
peaceful pursuits of philosophy and science. Take, for instance, the
great names of Bacon, the father of modern philosophy, and of
Worcester, Boyle, Cavendish, Talbot and Rosse in science. The last
named may be regarded as the great mechanic of the peerage; a man
who, if he had not been born a peer, would probably have taken the
highest rank as an inventor. So thorough was his knowledge of smith-
work that he is said to have been pressed on one occasion to accept
the foremanship of a large workshop, by a manufacturer to whom his
rank was unknown. The great Rosse telescope, of his own fabrication,
is certainly the most extraordinary instrument of the kind that has
yet been constructed.
We are apt to think that the wealthy classes in America are addicted
to idleness, but, in proportion to their number, they are as
usefully industrious as those who are forced to work for a living.
The Adams family, of Massachusetts, for more than a century, has
been even more distinguished for statesmanship and intellect than
for great wealth. The Vanderbilts have all been hard workers and
able business men. George Gould seems to be quite as great a
financier as his remarkable father. The Astors are distinguished for
their literary ability; William Waldorf Astor and his cousin, John
Jacob, are authors of great merit. The Lees, of Virginia, have ever
been distinguished for energy, intellect, and a capacity for hard
work. And so we might cite a hundred examples to prove that even in
America, want is not the greatest incentive to effort.
The indefatigable industry of Lord Brougham has become almost
proverbial. His public labors extended over a period of upward of
sixty years, during which he ranged over many fields--of law,
literature, politics, and science--and achieved distinction in them
all. How he contrived it, has been to many a mystery. Once, when Sir
Samuel Romilly was requested to undertake some new work, he excused
himself by saying that he had no time; "but," he added, "go with it
to that fellow Brougham, he seems to have time for everything." The
secret of it was, that he never left a minute unemployed; withal he
possessed a constitution of iron. When arrived at an age at which
most men would have retired from the world to enjoy their hard-
earned leisure, perhaps to doze away their time in an easy chair,
Lord Brougham commenced and prosecuted a series of elaborate
investigations as to the laws of Light, and he submitted the results
to the most scientific audiences that Paris and London could muster.
About the same time, he was passing through the press his admirable
sketches of the "Men of Science and Literature of the Reign of
George III," and taking his full share of the law business and the
political discussions in the House of Lords. Sydney Smith once
recommended him to confine himself to only the transaction of so
much business as three strong men could get through. But such was
Brougham's love of work--long become a habit--that no amount of
application seems to have been too great for him; and such was his
love of excellence that it has been said of him that if his station
in life had been only that of a shoeblack, he would never have
rested satisfied until he had become the best shoeblack in England.