SELF-INDULGENCE AND FAILURE
The correct definition of self-indulgence is _failure_--because
self-indulgence is comprised of an aggregation of vices, large and
small, and failure is the logical sequence thereof. Even the habit of
eating may be cultivated into a vice. Indeed, there are those who gorge
without restraint, which in itself is unchaste and immoral. We've often
seen them as, with napkin under foot or tucked under the collar, they
eat their way through mountains of food and wash it down as they reach
for more.
No use to say how and what we feel when we attend such performances. It
is all right to say "Look the Other Way," _but it can't be done_. It is
human nature to gaze upon horror--sometimes in sympathy, but more often
in amazement. Sometimes a well staged scene of gormandizing viewed from
a seat in the second or third row center of a softly lighted, thick
carpeted food emporium _saves us the price of our own meal_. We no
longer hunger on our own account. Our appetite is appeased by proxy, so
to speak, and we calmly fix our eyes on the "big show" and _sigh for a
baseball bat_.
No wonder a noted bachelor of medicine declares "People are what they
eat!" The exclamation point is our own. We quite agree with our medical
brother for we have seen people eat until we thought _we_ would never be
hungry again.
But there is more to self-indulgence than the food specialist has to
answer for, so we will be on our way. For instance, there is _the
spendthrift_; surely he is entitled to a short stanza. We all know him.
He goes on the theory that he has all the spending money in the world,
and that long after he is dead those on whom he spent it will remember
his generosity. Vain hope!--Whatever memory of him remains will be of a
different kind. Those who have been bored by his gratuitous attentions
will take up the threads of their existence where they left off when he
drove them away from their usual haunts. No longer will they have to
dodge down alleys and run up strange stairways in an effort to avoid his
overtures.
[Illustration: _Douglas Fairbanks in "The Good Bad-Man"_]
When alive and in full operation he knew more about what was best for us
than we could possibly think of knowing. Left to his own devices he
would have us smoke his particular brands, drink his labels, eat his
selections, wear his kind of a cravat, overcoat, cap, hat, shoes, and
underwear. And to make his proposition sound business like he would
willingly pay the bills! In this little amusement we are supposed to
play the part of receiver and _praise his generosity_.
Whatever may be our verdict on this chap we must keep in mind that his
inordinate desire to waste his substance was no less than a vice if for
no other reason than its example upon others; it is just as bad to be _a
"receiver"_ as it is to be _a spendthrift_. If we cannot build up a
reputation for generosity without becoming ostentatious we might better
take lessons in refinement from someone "to the manor born."
There is no desire to single out and set down by name and number every
sort of self-indulgence. _Excesses of any kind are indulgences_, and it
is easy to fall into them if we have not built up our stamina to resist.
Our failures are usually traceable to ourselves. No matter what excuses
may be offered in our behalf we know in our own minds that we are to
blame. Somewhere along the line of our endeavors we faltered--_then we
fell_. Our conservatism reinforced by our strength of character finally
gave way at a given point and put the whole plant out of business. Our
system of inspection had become cursory instead of painstaking.
Everything had been running along so smoothly we forgot that everything
_must_ wear out in time if it isn't looked after properly.
A previous chapter entitled, "Taking Stock of Ourselves," has a specific
bearing upon the subject in hand. It emphasizes the necessity of taking
stock of ourselves early in life in order that we may know our weak
spots and take immediate steps to dig them out by the roots and replace
them with "_hardy perennials_" which thrive on and on unto the last day.
And that reminds us that it is well to take stock of ourselves every
little while. Even "hardy perennials" have to be looked after--the
ground kept fertile and watered against the draughts of forgetfulness
and neglect. And so it must be with our mental and physical processes in
order that each day of our lives we may go forth with renewed
forcefulness--with every atom of character in full working order.
Having started off on the right foot, we are less likely to have trouble
with our higher resolves during the lean and hungry years of our youth
when we go plunging headlong toward the goal of our ambitions. Usually
it is not until we come into "Easy Street" that we find that we dropped
something somewhere along the line which we must replace at once or we
will be laid up for repairs. But lo and behold! "Easy Street" is fair to
look upon. It dazzles the eye--it takes hold of the sensibilities.
Everybody wears "Sunday clothes" on this street and seems to be
superlatively happy. Surely it wouldn't hurt to linger awhile and see
what is going on. Why, this is the most talked about street in the
world! Some of the people we have dealt with have told us about it. They
said it was _the only street_ for a man of means, for there could be
found the very things for which we strive in life. They told us that the
people we would meet represented the higher order of intelligence,
brainy, alert, accomplished--a grand thoroughfare for those who would
know life in the fullness thereof.
Now it is a fact that "Easy Street" may be crossed and recrossed in
safety every day of our lives if we do not tarry. Financial competence
might permit of it, but competent efficiency demands that we trot
along--_keep moving_--get away before we settle down into its ways. The
action we need is not along this brilliant lane.
But suppose we do take a chance just to test the serene confidence which
we think is so safely nailed down within us. The very thought of it
makes the "caution bell" tinkle in our ears--but caution is a species of
cowardice, after all, we say--a man of _courage_ may dare anything
_once_. And just at the moment we waver who comes along but our old
friend _Self-indulgence_!--the well dressed, carefree fellow who once
told us all about "Easy Street" and invited us to look in on him
sometime. Nothing would please him more than to show us the whole
works--and here he is shaking us by the hand and pulling us along--for
he is an affable fellow and will not take "no" for an answer.
Our struggle is feeble--a huge chunk of our strength of character falls
off into space then and there. Even at the gilded entrance we try again
to beg off--to slip away--but Self-indulgence will not hear. So together
we go through the portals leading into a grandeur we had never
known--beyond our experience and power to believe. _This is likely to
become the turning point in our career._
Bill Nye once said "When we start down hill we usually find everything
greased for the occasion." We might add--"_except the bumps_!"