CHAPTER XXXI.

THE ART OF MONEY GETTING.

BACK ONCE MORE TO ENGLAND--TOUR THROUGH SCOTLAND AND WALES--HOW I

CAME TO LECTURE--ADVICE OF MY FRIENDS--MY LECTURE--HOW TO MAKE

MONEY AND HOW TO KEEP IT--WHAT THE PAPERS SAID ABOUT ME--PRAISE OF

THE LONDON PRESS--LECTURING IN THE PROVINCES--PERFORMANCES AT

CAMBRIDGE--CALL FOR JOICE HETH--EXTRAORDINARY FUN AT OXFORD--THE

AUDIENCE AND LECTURER TAKING TURNS--A UNIVERSITY

BREAKFAST--MAGNIFICENT OFFER FOR A COPYRIGHT--SUCCESS OF MY

ENTERPRISE--MORE MONEY FOR THE CLOCK CREDITORS.

Seeing the necessity of making more money to assist in extricating me

from my financial difficulties, and leaving my affairs in the hands of

Mr. James D. Johnson--my wife and youngest daughter, Pauline, boarding

with my eldest daughter, Mrs. Thompson, in Bridgeport--early in 1858, I

went back to England, and took Tom Thumb to all the principal places in

Scotland and Wales, giving many exhibitions and making much money which

was remitted, as heretofore, to my agents and assignees in America.

Finding, after a while, that my personal attention was not needed in the

Tom Thumb exhibitions and confiding him almost wholly to agents who

continued the tour through Great Britain, under my general advice and

instruction, I turned my individual attention to a new field. At the

suggestion of several American gentlemen, resident in London, I prepared

a lecture on “The Art of Money-Getting.” I told my friends that,

considering my clock complications, I thought I was more competent to

speak on “The Art of Money Losing”; but they encouraged me by reminding

me that I could not have lost money, if I had not previously possessed

the faculty of making it. They further assured me that my name having

been intimately associated with the Jenny Lind concerts and other great

money-making enterprises, the lecture would be sure to prove attractive

and profitable.

The old clocks ticked in my ear the reminder that I should improve every

opportunity to “turn an honest penny,” and my lecture was duly announced

for delivery in the great St. James’ Hall, Regent Street, Piccadilly. It

was thoroughly advertised--a feature I never neglected--and, at the

appointed time, the hall, which would hold three thousand people, was

completely filled, at prices of three and two shillings, (seventy-five

and fifty cents,) per seat, according to location. It was the evening of

December 29, 1858. Since my arrival in Great Britain the previous

spring, I had spent months in travelling with General Tom Thumb, and now

I was to present myself in a new capacity to the English public as a

lecturer. I could see in my audience all my American friends who had

suggested this effort; all my theatrical and literary friends; and as I

saw several gentlemen whom I knew to be connected with the leading

London papers, I felt sure that my success or failure would be duly

chronicled next morning. There was, moreover, a general audience that

seemed eager to see the “showman” of whom they had heard so much, and to

catch from his lips the “art” which, in times past, had contributed so

largely to his success in life. Stimulated by these things, I tried to

do my best, and I think I did it. The following is the lecture

substantially as it was delivered, though it was interspersed with many

anecdotes and illustrations which are necessarily omitted; and I should

add, that the subjoined copy being adapted to the meridian in which it

has been repeatedly delivered, contains numerous local allusions to men

and matters in the United States, which, of course, did not appear in

the original draft prepared for my English audiences:

THE ART OF MONEY GETTING.

In the United States, where we have more land than people, it is not at

all difficult for persons in good health to make money. In this

comparatively new field there are so many avenues of success open, so

many vocations which are not crowded, that any person of either sex who

is willing, at least for the time being, to engage in any respectable

occupation that offers, may find lucrative employment.

Those who really desire to attain an independence, have only to set

their minds upon it, and adopt the proper means, as they do in regard to

any other object which they wish to accomplish, and the thing is easily

done. But however easy it may be found to make money, I have no doubt

many of my hearers will agree it is the most difficult thing in the

world to keep it. The road to wealth is, as Dr. Franklin truly says, “as

plain as the road to mill.” It consists simply in expending less than we

earn; that seems to be a very simple problem. Mr. Micawber, one of those

happy creations of the genial Dickens, puts the case in a strong light

when he says that to have an income of twenty pounds, per annum, and

spend twenty pounds and sixpence, is to be the most miserable of men;

whereas, to have an income of only twenty pounds, and spend but

nineteen pounds and sixpence, is to be the happiest of mortals. Many of

my hearers may say, “we understand this; this is economy, and we know

economy is wealth; we know we can’t eat our cake and keep it also.” Yet

I beg to say that perhaps more cases of failure arise from mistakes on

this point than almost any other. The fact is, many people think they

understand economy when they really do not.

True economy is misapprehended, and people go through life without

properly comprehending what that principle is. Some say, “I have an

income of so much, and here is my neighbor who has the same; yet every

year he gets something ahead and I fall short; why is it? I know all

about economy.” He thinks he does, but he does not. There are many who

think that economy consists in saving cheese-parings and candle ends, in

cutting off two pence from the laundress’ bill and doing all sorts of

little, mean, dirty things. Economy is not meanness. The misfortune is

also that this class of persons let their economy apply in only one

direction. They fancy they are so wonderfully economical in saving a

half-penny where they ought to spend two pence, that they think they can

afford to squander in other directions. A few years ago, before kerosene

oil was discovered or thought of, one might stop over night at almost

any farmer’s house in the agricultural districts and get a very good

supper, but after supper he might attempt to read in the sitting room,

and would find it impossible with the inefficient light of one candle.

The hostess, seeing his dilemma, would say: “It is rather difficult to

read here evenings; the proverb says ‘you must have a ship at sea in

order to be able to burn two candles at once;’ we never have an extra

candle except on extra occasions.” These extra occasions occur, perhaps,

twice a year. In this way the good woman saves five, six, or ten dollars

in that time; but the information which might be derived from having the

extra light would, of course, far outweigh a ton of candles.

But the trouble does not end here. Feeling that she is so economical in

tallow candles, she thinks she can afford to go frequently to the

village and spend twenty or thirty dollars for ribbons and furbelows,

many of which are not necessary. This false economy may frequently be

seen in men of business, and in those instances it often runs to writing

paper. You find good business men who save all the old envelopes, and

scraps, and would not tear a new sheet of paper, if they could avoid it,

for the world. This is all very well; they may in this way save five or

ten dollars a year, but being so economical (only in note paper), they

think they can afford to waste time; to have expensive parties, and to

drive their carriages. This is an illustration of Dr. Franklin’s “saving

at the spigot and wasting at the bung-hole”; “penny wise and pound

foolish.” _Punch_ in speaking of this “one-idea” class of people says

“they are like the man who bought a penny herring for his family’s

dinner and then hired a coach and four to take it home.” I never knew a

man to succeed by practising this kind of economy.

True economy consists in always making the income exceed the out-go.

Wear the old clothes a little longer if necessary; dispense with the new

pair of gloves; mend the old dress; live on plainer food if need be; so

that under all circumstances, unless some unforeseen accident occurs,

there will be a margin in favor of the income. A penny here, and a

dollar there, placed at interest, goes on accumulating, and in this way

the desired result is attained. It requires some training, perhaps, to

accomplish this economy, but when once used to it, you will find there

is more satisfaction in rational saving, than in irrational spending.

Here is a recipe which I recommend; I have found it to work an excellent

cure for extravagance and especially for mistaken economy: When you find

that you have no surplus at the end of the year, and yet have a good

income, I advise you to take a few sheets of paper and form them into a

book and mark down every item of expenditure. Post it every day or week

in two columns, one headed “necessaries” or even “comforts,” and the

other headed “luxuries,” and you will find that the latter column will

be double, treble, and frequently ten times greater than the former. The

real comforts of life cost but a small portion of what most of us can

earn. Dr. Franklin says “it is the eyes of others and not our own eyes

which ruin us. If all the world were blind except myself I should not

care for fine clothes or furniture.” It is the fear of what Mrs. Grundy

may say that keeps the noses of many worthy families to the grindstone.

In America many persons like to repeat “we are all free and equal,” but

it is a great mistake in more senses than one.

That we are born “free and equal” is a glorious truth in one sense, yet

we are not all born equally rich, and we never shall be. One may say,

“there is a man who has an income of fifty thousand dollars per annum,

while I have but one thousand dollars; I knew that fellow when he was

poor like myself; now he is rich and thinks he is better than I am; I

will show him that I am as good as he is; I will go and buy a horse and

buggy;--no, I cannot do that but I will go and hire one and ride this

afternoon on the same road that he does, and thus prove to him that I am

as good as he is.”

My friend, you need not take that trouble, you can easily prove that you

are “as good as he is”; you have only to behave as well as he does, but

you cannot make anybody believe that you are as rich as he is. Besides,

if you put on these “airs,” and waste your time and spend your money,

your poor wife will be obliged to scrub her fingers off at home, and buy

her tea two ounces at a time, and everything else in proportion, in

order that you may keep up “appearances,” and after all, deceive nobody.

On the other hand, Mrs. Smith may say that her next-door neighbor

married Johnson for his money, and “everybody says so.” She has a nice

one thousand dollar camel’s hair shawl, and she will make Smith get her

an imitation one and she will sit in a pew right next to her neighbor in

church, in order to prove that she is her equal.

My good woman you will not get ahead in the world, if your vanity and

envy thus take the lead. In this country, where we believe the majority

ought to rule, we ignore that principle in regard to fashion, and let a

handful of people, calling themselves the aristocracy, run up a false

standard of perfection, and in endeavoring to rise to that standard, we

constantly keep ourselves poor; all the time digging away for the sake

of outside appearances. How much wiser to be a “law unto ourselves” and

say, “we will regulate our out-go by our income, and lay up something

for a rainy day.” People ought to be as sensible on the subject of

money-getting as on any other subject. Like causes produce like effects.

You cannot accumulate a fortune by taking the road that leads to

poverty. It needs no prophet to tell us that those who live fully up to

their means, without any thought of a reverse in this life, can never

attain a pecuniary independence.

Men and women accustomed to gratify every whim and caprice, will find it

hard, at first, to cut down their various unnecessary expenses, and will

feel it a great self denial to live in a smaller house than they have

been accustomed to, with less expensive furniture, less company, less

costly clothing, fewer servants, a less number of balls, parties,

theatre goings, carriage ridings, pleasure excursions, cigar smokings,

liquor drinkings, and other extravagances; but, after all, if they will

try the plan of laying by a “nest-egg,” or in other words, a small sum

of money, at interest or judiciously invested in land, they will be

surprised at the pleasure to be derived from constantly adding to their

little “pile,” as well as from all the economical habits which are

engendered by this course.

The old suit of clothes, and the old bonnet and dress, will answer for

another season; the Croton or spring water will taste better than

champagne; a cold bath and a brisk walk will prove more exhilarating

than a ride in the finest coach; a social chat, an evening’s reading in

the family circle, or an hour’s play of “hunt the slipper” and “blind

man’s buff,” will be far more pleasant than a fifty or a five hundred

dollar party, when the reflection on the difference in cost is indulged

in by those who begin to know the pleasures of saving. Thousands of men

are kept poor, and tens of thousands are made so after they have

acquired quite sufficient to support them well through life, in

consequence of laying their plans of living on too broad a platform.

Some families expend twenty thousand dollars per annum, and some much

more, and would scarcely know how to live on less, while others secure

more solid enjoyment frequently on a twentieth part of that amount.

Prosperity is a more severe ordeal than adversity, especially sudden

prosperity. “Easy come, easy go,” is an old and true proverb. A spirit

of pride and vanity, when permitted to have full sway, is the undying

canker worm which gnaws the very vitals of a man’s worldly possessions,

let them be small or great, hundreds or millions. Many persons, as they

begin to prosper, immediately expand their ideas and commence expending

for luxuries, until in a short time their expenses swallow up their

income, and they become ruined in their ridiculous attempts to keep up

appearances, and make a “sensation.”

I know a gentleman of fortune who says, that when he first began to

prosper, his wife would have a new and elegant sofa. “That sofa,” he

says, “cost me thirty thousand dollars!” When the sofa reached the

house, it was found necessary to get chairs to match; then side-boards,

carpets and tables “to correspond” with them, and so on through the

entire stock of furniture; when at last it was found that the house

itself was quite too small and old-fashioned for the furniture, and a

new one was built to correspond with the new purchases; “thus,” added my

friend, “summing up an outlay of thirty thousand dollars caused by that

single sofa, and saddling on me, in the shape of servants, equipage, and

the necessary expenses attendant upon keeping up a fine

‘establishment,’ a yearly outlay of eleven thousand dollars, and a tight

pinch at that; whereas, ten years ago, we lived with much more real

comfort, because with much less care, on as many hundreds. The truth

is,” he continued, “that sofa would have brought me to inevitable

bankruptcy, had not a most unexampled tide of prosperity kept me above

it, and had I not checked the natural desire to ‘cut a dash.’”

The foundation of success in life is good health; that is the substratum

of fortune; it is also the basis of happiness. A person cannot

accumulate a fortune very well when he is sick. He has no ambition; no

incentive; no force. Of course, there are those who have bad health and

cannot help it; you cannot expect that such persons can accumulate

wealth; but there are a great many in poor health who need not be so.

If, then, sound health is the foundation of success and happiness in

life, how important it is that we should study the laws of health, which

is but another expression for the laws of nature! The closer we keep to

the laws of nature, the nearer we are to good health, and yet how many

persons there are who pay no attention to natural laws, but absolutely

transgress them, even against their own natural inclination. We ought to

know that the “sin of ignorance” is never winked at in regard to the

violation of nature’s laws; their infraction always brings the penalty.

A child may thrust its finger into the flame without knowing it will

burn, and so suffers; repentance even will not stop the smart. Many of

our ancestors knew very little about the principle of ventilation. They

did not know much about oxygen, whatever other “gin” they might have

been acquainted with; and consequently, they built their houses with

little seven-by-nine feet bedrooms, and these good old pious Puritans

would lock themselves up in one of these cells, say their prayers, and

go to bed. In the morning they would devoutly return thanks for the

“preservation of their lives,” during the night, and nobody had better

reason to be thankful. Probably some big crack in the window, or in the

door, let in a little fresh air, and thus saved them.

Many persons knowingly violate the laws of nature against their better

impulses, for the sake of fashion. For instance, there is one thing that

nothing living except a vile worm ever naturally loved, and that is

tobacco; yet how many persons there are who deliberately train an

unnatural appetite, and overcome this implanted aversion for tobacco, to

such a degree that they get to love it. They have got hold of a

poisonous, filthy weed, or rather that takes a firm hold of them. Here

are married men who run about spitting tobacco juice on the carpet and

floors, and sometimes even upon their wives besides. They do not kick

their wives out of doors like drunken men, but their wives, I have no

doubt, often wish they were outside of the house. Another perilous

feature is that this artificial appetite, like jealousy, “grows by what

it feeds on”; when you love that which is unnatural, a stronger appetite

is created for the hurtful thing than the natural desire for what is

harmless. There is an old proverb which says that “habit is second

nature,” but an artificial habit is stronger than nature. Take for

instance an old tobacco-chewer; his love for the “quid” is stronger than

his love for any particular kind of food. He can give up roast beef

easier than give up the weed.

Young lads regret that they are not men; they would like to go to bed

boys and wake up men; and to accomplish this they copy the bad habits of

their seniors. Little Tommy and Johnny see their fathers or uncles smoke

a pipe and they say, “If I could only do that I would be a man too;

uncle John has gone out and left his pipe of tobacco, let us try it.”

They take a match and light it, and then puff away. “We will learn to

smoke; do you like it Johnny?” That lad dolefully replies: “Not very

much; it tastes bitter”; by and by he grows pale, but he persists, and

he soon offers up a sacrifice on the altar of fashion; but the boys

stick to it and persevere until at last they conquer their natural

appetites and become the victims of acquired tastes.

I speak “by the book,” for I have noticed its effects on myself, having

gone so far as to smoke ten or fifteen cigars a day, although I have not

used the weed during the last fourteen years, and never shall again. The

more a man smokes, the more he craves smoking; the last cigar smoked,

simply excites the desire for another, and so on incessantly.

Take the tobacco-chewer. In the morning when he gets up, he puts a quid

in his mouth and keeps it there all day, never taking it out except to

exchange it for a fresh one, or when he is going to eat; oh! yes, at

intervals during the day and evening, many a chewer takes out the quid

and holds it in his hand long enough to take a drink, and then pop it

goes back again. This simply proves that the appetite for rum is even

stronger than that for tobacco. When the tobacco chewer goes to your

country seat and you show him your grapery and fruit house and the

beauties of your garden, when you offer him some fresh, ripe fruit, and

say, “My friend, I have got here the most delicious apples and pears

and peaches and apricots; I have imported them from Spain, France and

Italy,--just see those luscious grapes; there is nothing more delicious

nor more healthy than ripe fruit, so help yourself; I want to see you

delight yourself with these things,” he will roll the dear quid under

his tongue and answer, “No, I thank you, I have got tobacco in my

mouth.” His palate has become narcotized by the noxious weed, and he has

lost, in a great measure, the delicate and enviable taste for fruits.

This shows what expensive, useless and injurious habits men will get

into. I speak from experience. I have smoked until I trembled like an

aspen leaf, the blood rushed to my head, and I had a palpitation of the

heart which I thought was heart disease, till I was almost killed with

fright. When I consulted my physician, he said “break off tobacco

using.” I was not only injuring my health and spending a great deal of

money, but I was setting a bad example. I obeyed his counsel. No young

man in the world ever looked so beautiful, as he thought he did, behind

a fifteen cent cigar or a meerschaum!

These remarks apply with ten-fold force to the use of intoxicating

drinks. To make money, requires a clear brain. A man has got to see that

two and two make four; he must lay all his plans with reflection and

forethought, and closely examine all the details and the ins and outs of

business. As no man can succeed in business unless he has a brain to

enable him to lay his plans, and reason to guide him in their execution,

so, no matter how bountifully a man may be blessed with intelligence, if

the brain is muddled, and his judgment warped by intoxicating drinks, it

is impossible for him to carry on business successfully. How many good

opportunities have passed, never to return, while a man was sipping a

“social glass,” with his friend! How many foolish bargains have been

made under the influence of the “nervine,” which temporarily makes its

victim think he is rich. How many important chances have been put off

until to-morrow, and then forever, because the wine cup has thrown the

system into a state of lassitude, neutralizing the energies so essential

to success in business. Verily “wine is a mocker.” The use of

intoxicating drinks as a beverage, is as much an infatuation, as is the

smoking of opium by the Chinese, and the former is quite as destructive

to the success of the business man as the latter. It is an unmitigated

evil, utterly indefensible in the light of philosophy, religion, or good

sense. It is the parent of nearly every other evil in our country.

DON’T MISTAKE YOUR VOCATION.--The safest plan, and the one most sure of

success for the young man starting in life, is to select the vocation

which is most congenial to his tastes. Parents and guardians are often

quite too negligent in regard to this. It is very common for a father to

say, for example: “I have five boys. I will make Billy a clergyman; John

a lawyer; Tom a doctor, and Dick a farmer.” He then goes into town and

looks about to see what he will do with Sammy. He returns home and says

“Sammy, I see watch-making is a nice, genteel business; I think I will

make you a goldsmith.” He does this regardless of Sam’s natural

inclinations, or genius.

We are all, no doubt, born for a wise purpose. There is as much

diversity in our brains as in our countenances. Some are born natural

mechanics, while some have great aversion to machinery. Let a dozen

boys of ten years get together and you will soon observe two or three

are “whittling” out some ingenious device; working with locks or

complicated machinery. When they were but five years old, their father

could find no toy to please them like a puzzle. They are natural

mechanics; but the other eight or nine boys have different aptitudes. I

belong to the latter class; I never had the slightest love for

mechanism; on the contrary, I have a sort of abhorrence for complicated

machinery. I never had ingenuity enough to whittle a cider tap so it

would not leak. I never could make a pen that I could write with, or

understand the principle of a steam engine. If a man was to take such a

boy as I was and attempt to make a watchmaker of him, the boy might,

after an apprenticeship of five or seven years, be able to take apart

and put together a watch; but all through life he would be working up

hill and seizing every excuse for leaving his work and idling away his

time. Watch making is repulsive to him.

Unless a man enters upon the vocation intended for him by nature, and

best suited to his peculiar genius, he cannot succeed. I am glad to

believe that the majority of persons do find the right vocation. Yet we

see many who have mistaken their calling, from the blacksmith up (or

down) to the clergyman. You will see for instance, that extraordinary

linguist the “learned blacksmith,” who ought to have been a teacher of

languages; and you may have seen lawyers, doctors and clergymen who were

better fitted by nature for the anvil or the lapstone.

SELECT THE RIGHT LOCATION.--After securing the right vocation, you must

be careful to select the proper location. You may have been cut out for

a hotel keeper, and they say it requires a genius to “know how to keep a

hotel.” You might conduct a hotel like clockwork, and provide

satisfactorily for five hundred guests every day; yet, if you should

locate your house in a small village where there is no railroad

communication or public travel, the location would be your ruin. It is

equally important that you do not commence business where there are

already enough to meet all demands in the same occupation. I remember a

case which illustrates this subject. When I was in London in 1858, I was

passing down Holborn with an English friend and came to the “penny

shows.” They had immense cartoons outside, portraying the wonderful

curiosities to be seen “all for a penny.” Being a little in the “show

line” myself, I said “let us go in here.” We soon found ourselves in the

presence of the illustrious showman, and he proved to be the sharpest

man in that line I had ever met. He told us some extraordinary stories

in reference to his bearded ladies, his Albinos, and his Armadillos,

which we could hardly believe, but thought it “better to believe it than

look after the proof.” He finally begged to call our attention to some

wax statuary, and showed us a lot of the dirtiest and filthiest wax

figures imaginable. They looked as if they had not seen water since the

Deluge.

“What is there so wonderful about your statuary?” I asked.

“I beg you not to speak so satirically,” he replied, “Sir, these are not

Madam Tussaud’s wax figures, all covered with gilt and tinsel and

imitation diamonds, and copied from engravings and photographs. Mine,

sir, were taken from life. Whenever you look upon one of those figures,

you may consider that you are looking upon the living individual.”

Glancing casually at them, I saw one labelled “Henry VIII.,” and feeling

a little curious upon seeing that it looked like Calvin Edson, the

living skeleton, I said:

“Do you call that ‘Henry the Eighth’?”

He replied, “Certainly, sir; it was taken from life at Hampton Court by

special order of his majesty, on such a day.”

He would have given the hour of the day if I had insisted; I said

“everybody knows that ‘Henry VIII,’ was a great stout old king, and that

figure is lean and lank; what do you say to that?”

“Why,” he replied, “you would be lean and lank yourself, if you sat

there as long as he has.”

There was no resisting such arguments. I said to my English friend, “Let

us go out; do not tell him who I am; I show the white feather; he beats

me.”

He followed us to the door, and seeing the rabble in the street he

called out, “ladies and gentlemen, I beg to draw your attention to the

respectable character of my visitors,” pointing to us as we walked away.

I called upon him a couple of days afterwards; told him who I was, and

said:

“My friend, you are an excellent showman, but you have selected a bad

location.”

He replied, “This is true, sir; I feel that all my talents are thrown

away; but what can I do?”

“You can go to America,” I replied. “You can give full play to your

faculties over there; you will find plenty of elbow room in America; I

will engage you for two years; after that you will be able to go on your

own account.”

He accepted my offer and remained two years in my New York Museum. He

then went to New Orleans and carried on a travelling show business

during the summer. To-day he is worth sixty thousand dollars, simply

because he selected the right vocation and also secured the proper

location. The old proverb says, “Three removes are as bad as a fire,”

but when a man is in the fire, it matters but little how soon or how

often he removes.

AVOID DEBT.--Young men starting in life should avoid running into debt.

There is scarcely anything that drags a person down like debt. It is a

slavish position to get in, yet we find many a young man hardly out of

his “teens” running in debt. He meets a chum and says, “Look at this; I

have got trusted for a new suit of clothes.” He seems to look upon the

clothes as so much given to him; well, it frequently is so, but, if he

succeeds in paying and then gets trusted again, he is adopting a habit

which will keep him in poverty through life. Debt robs a man of his self

respect, and makes him almost despise himself. Grunting and groaning and

working for what he has eaten up or worn out, and now when he is called

upon to pay up, he has nothing to show for his money; this is properly

termed “working for a dead horse.” I do not speak of merchants buying

and selling on credit, or of those who buy on credit in order to turn

the purchase to a profit. The old Quaker said to his farmer son, “John,

never get trusted; but if thee gets trusted for anything, let it be for

‘manure,’ because that will help thee pay it back again.”

Mr. Beecher advised young men to get in debt if they could to a small

amount in the purchase of land in the country districts. “If a young

man,” he says, “will only get in debt for some land and then get

married, these two things will keep him straight, or nothing will.” This

may be safe to a limited extent, but getting in debt for what you eat

and drink and wear is to be avoided. Some families have a foolish habit

of getting credit at “the stores,” and thus frequently purchase many

things which might have been dispensed with.

It is all very well to say, “I have got trusted for sixty days, and if I

don’t have the money, the creditor will think nothing about it.” There

is no class of people in the world who have such good memories as

creditors. When the sixty days run out, you will have to pay. If you do

not pay, you will break your promise and probably resort to a falsehood.

You may make some excuse or get in debt elsewhere to pay it, but that

only involves you the deeper.

A good looking, lazy young fellow, was the apprentice boy Horatio. His

employer said, “Horatio, did you ever see a snail?” “I--think--I--have,”

he drawled out. “You must have met him then, for I am sure you never

overtook one,” said the “boss.” Your creditor will meet you or overtake

you and say, “Now, my young friend, you agreed to pay me; you have not

done it, you must give me your note.” You give the note on interest and

it commences working against you; “it is a dead horse.” The creditor

goes to bed at night and wakes up in the morning better off than when he

retired to bed because his interest has increased during the night, but

you grow poorer while you are sleeping, for the interest is accumulating

against you.

Money is in some respects like fire--it is a very excellent servant but

a terrible master. When you have it mastering you, when interest is

constantly piling up against you, it will keep you down in the worst

kind of slavery. But let money work for you, and you have the most

devoted servant in the world. It is no “eye-servant.” There is nothing

animate or inanimate that will work so faithfully as money when placed

at interest, well secured. It works night and day, and in wet or dry

weather.

I was born in the blue law State of Connecticut, where the old Puritans

had laws so rigid that it was said, “they fined a man for kissing his

wife on Sunday.” Yet these rich old Puritans would have thousands of

dollars at interest, and on Saturday night would be worth a certain

amount; on Sunday they would go to church and perform all the duties of

a Christian. On waking up on Monday morning, they would find themselves

considerably richer than the Saturday night previous, simply because

their money placed at interest had worked faithfully for them all day

Sunday, according to law!

Do not let it work against you; If you do, there is no chance for

success in life so far as money is concerned. John Randolph, the

eccentric Virginian, once exclaimed in Congress, “Mr. Speaker, I have

discovered the philosopher’s stone: pay as you go.” This is indeed

nearer to the philosopher’s stone than any alchemist has ever yet

arrived.

PERSEVERE.--When a man is in the right path, he must persevere. I speak

of this because there are some persons who are “born tired”; naturally

lazy and possessing no self reliance and no perseverance. But, they can

cultivate these qualities, as Davy Crockett said:

“This thing remember, when I am dead,

Be sure you are right, then go ahead.”

It is this go-aheaditiveness, this determination not to let the

“horrors” or the “blues” take possession of you, so as to make you relax

your energies in the struggle for independence, which you must

cultivate.

How many have almost reached the goal of their ambition, but losing

faith in themselves have relaxed their energies, and the golden prize

has been lost forever.

It is, no doubt, often true, as Shakespeare says:

“There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

If you hesitate, some bolder hand will stretch out before you and get

the prize. Remember the proverb of Solomon: “He becometh poor that

dealeth with a slack hand; but the hand of the diligent maketh rich.”

Perseverance is sometimes but another word for self-reliance. Many

persons naturally look on the dark side of life, and borrow trouble.

They are born so. Then they ask for advice, and they will be governed by

one wind and blown by another, and cannot rely upon themselves. Until

you get so that you can rely upon yourself, you need not expect to

succeed. I have known men personally who have met with pecuniary

reverses, and absolutely committed suicide, because they thought they

could never overcome their misfortune. But I have known others who have

met more serious financial difficulties, and have bridged them over by

simple perseverance, aided by a firm belief that they were doing justly,

and that Providence would “overcome evil with good.” You will see this

illustrated in any sphere of life.

Take two Generals; both understand military tactics, both educated at

West Point, if you please, both equally gifted; yet one, having this

principle of perseverance, and the other lacking it, the former will

succeed in his profession, while the latter will fail. One may hear the

cry, “the enemy are coming, and they have got cannon.”

“Got cannon?” says the hesitating General.

“Yes.”

“Then halt every man.”

He wants time to reflect; his hesitation is his ruin. The enemy passes

unmolested, or overwhelms him. The General of pluck, perseverance and

self reliance goes into battle with a will, and amid the clash of arms,

the booming of cannon, and the shrieks of the wounded and dying, you

will see this man persevering, going on, cutting and slashing his way

through with unwavering determination, and if you are near enough, you

will hear him shout, “I will fight it out on this line if it takes all

summer.”

WHATEVER YOU DO, DO WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT.--Work at it, if necessary,

early and late, in season and out of season, not leaving a stone

unturned, and never deferring for a single hour that which can be done

just as well _now_. The old proverb is full of truth and meaning,

“Whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well.” Many a man

acquires a fortune by doing his business thoroughly, while his neighbor

remains poor for life because he only half does it. Ambition, energy,

industry, perseverance, are indispensable requisites for success in

business.

Fortune always favors the brave, and never helps a man who does not help

himself. It won’t do to spend your time like Mr. Micawber, in waiting

for something to “turn up.” To such men one of two things usually “turns

up”: the poor-house or the jail; for idleness breeds bad habits, and

clothes a man in rags. The poor spendthrift vagabond said to a rich man:

“I have discovered there is money enough in the world for all of us, if

it was equally divided; this must be done, and we shall all be happy

together.”

“But,” was the response, “if everybody was like you, it would be spent

in two months, and what would you do then?”

“Oh! divide again; keep dividing, of course!”

I was recently reading in a London paper an account of a like

philosophic pauper who was kicked out of a cheap boarding-house because

he could not pay his bill, but he had a roll of papers sticking out of

his coat pocket, which, upon examination, proved to be his plan for

paying off the national debt of England without the aid of a penny.

People have got to do as Cromwell said: “not only trust in Providence,

but keep the powder dry.” Do your part of the work, or you cannot

succeed. Mahomet, one night, while encamping in the desert, overheard

one of his fatigued followers remark: “I will loose my camel, and trust

it to God.” “No, no, not so,” said the prophet, “tie thy camel, and

trust it to God!” Do all you can for yourselves, and then trust to

Providence, or luck, or whatever you please to call it, for the rest.

DEPEND UPON YOUR OWN PERSONAL EXERTIONS.--The eye of the employer is

often worth more than the hands of a dozen employees. In the nature of

things, an agent cannot be so faithful to his employer as to himself.

Many who are employers will call to mind instances where the best

employees have overlooked important points which could not have escaped

their own observation as a proprietor. No man has a right to expect to

succeed in life unless he understands his business, and nobody can

understand his business thoroughly unless he learns it by personal

application and experience. A man may be a manufacturer; he has got to

learn the many details of his business personally; he will learn

something every day, and he will find he will make mistakes nearly every

day. And these very mistakes are helps to him in the way of experiences

if he but heeds them. He will be like the Yankee tin-peddler, who,

having been cheated as to quality in the purchase of his merchandise,

said: “All right, there’s a little information to be gained every day; I

will never be cheated in that way again.” Thus a man buys his

experience, and it is the best kind if not purchased at too dear a rate.

I hold that every man should, like Cuvier, the French naturalist,

thoroughly know his business. So proficient was he in the study of

natural history, that you might bring to him the bone or even a section

of a bone of an animal which he had never seen described, and reasoning

from analogy, he would be able to draw a picture of the object from

which the bone had been taken. On one occasion his students attempted to

deceive him. They rolled one of their number in a cow skin and put him

under the Professor’s table as a new specimen. When the philosopher came

into the room, some of the students asked him what animal it was.

Suddenly the animal said “I am the devil and I am going to eat you.” It

was but natural that Cuvier should desire to classify this creature, and

examining it intently, he said, “Divided hoof; graminivorous! it cannot

be done.”

He knew that an animal with a split hoof must live upon grass and grain,

or other kind of vegetation, and would not be inclined to eat flesh,

dead or alive, so he considered himself perfectly safe. The possession

of a perfect knowledge of your business is an absolute necessity in

order to insure success.

Among the maxims of the elder Rothschild was one, an apparent paradox:

“Be cautious and bold.” This seems to be a contradiction in terms, but

it is not, and there is great wisdom in the maxim. It is, in fact, a

condensed statement of what I have already said. It is to say, “you must

exercise your caution in laying your plans, but be bold in carrying them

out.” A man who is all caution, will never dare to take hold and be

successful; and a man who is all boldness, is merely reckless, and must

eventually fail. A man may go on “‘change” and make fifty or one hundred

thousand dollars in speculating in stocks, at a single operation. But if

he has simple boldness without caution, it is mere chance, and what he

gains to-day he will lose to-morrow. You must have both the caution and

the boldness, to insure success.

The Rothschilds have another maxim: “Never have anything to do with an

unlucky man or place.” That is to say, never have anything to do with a

man or place which never succeeds, because, although a man may appear to

be honest and intelligent, yet if he tries this or that thing and always

fails, it is on account of some fault or infirmity that you may not be

able to discover, but nevertheless which must exist.

There is no such thing in the world as luck. There never was a man who

could go out in the morning and find a purse full of gold in the street

to-day, and another to-morrow, and so on, day after day. He may do so

once in his life; but so far as mere luck is concerned, he is as liable

to lose it as to find it. “Like causes produce like effects.” If a man

adopts the proper methods to be successful, “luck” will not prevent him.

If he does not succeed, there are reasons for it, although perhaps, he

may not be able to see them.

USE THE BEST TOOLS.--Men in engaging employees should be careful to get

the best. Understand, you cannot have too good tools to work with, and

there is no tool you should be so particular about as living tools. If

you get a good one, it is better to keep him, than keep changing. He

learns something every day, and you are benefited by the experience he

acquires. He is worth more to you this year than last, and he is the

last man to part with, provided his habits are good and he continues

faithful. If, as he gets more valuable, he demands an exorbitant

increase of salary on the supposition that you can’t do without him, let

him go. Whenever I have such an employee, I always discharge him; first,

to convince him that his place may be supplied, and second, because he

is good for nothing if he thinks he is invaluable and cannot be spared.

But I would keep him, if possible, in order to profit from the result of

his experience. An important element in an employee is the brain. You

can see bills up, “Hands Wanted,” but “hands” are not worth a great deal

without “heads.” Mr. Beecher illustrates this, in this wise:

An employee offers his services by saying, “I have a pair of hands and

one of my fingers thinks.” “That is very good,” says the employer.

Another man comes along, and says “he has two fingers that think.” “Ah!

that is better.” But a third calls in and says that “all his fingers and

thumbs think.” That is better still. Finally another steps in, and says,

“I have a brain that thinks; I think all over; I am a thinking as well

as a working man!” “You are the man I want,” says the delighted

employer.

Those men who have brains and experience are therefore the most valuable

and not to be readily parted with; it is better for them, as well as

yourself, to keep them, at reasonable advances in their salaries from

time to time.

DON’T GET ABOVE YOUR BUSINESS.--Young men after they get through their

business training, or apprenticeship, instead of pursuing their

avocation and rising in their business, will often lie about doing

nothing. They say, “I have learned my business, but I am not going to be

a hireling; what is the object of learning my trade or profession,

unless I establish myself?”

“Have you capital to start with?”

“No, but I am going to have it.”

“How are you going to get it?”

“I will tell you confidentially; I have a wealthy old aunt, and she will

die pretty soon; but if she does not, I expect to find some rich old man

who will lend me a few thousands to give me a start. If I only get the

money to start with I will do well.”

There is no greater mistake than when a young man believes he will

succeed with borrowed money. Why? Because every man’s experience

coincides with that of Mr. Astor, who said, ‘it was more difficult for

him to accumulate his first thousand dollars, than all the succeeding

millions that made up his colossal fortune.’ Money is good for nothing

unless you know the value of it by experience. Give a boy twenty

thousand dollars and put him in business and the chances are that he

will lose every dollar of it before he is a year older. Like buying a

ticket in the lottery, and drawing a prize, it is “easy come, easy go.”

He does not know the value of it; nothing is worth anything, unless it

costs effort. Without self denial and economy, patience and

perseverance, and commencing with capital which you have not earned, you

are not sure to succeed in accumulating. Young men instead of “waiting

for dead men’s shoes” should be up and doing, for there is no class of

persons who are so unaccommodating in regard to dying as these rich old

people, and it is fortunate for the expectant heirs that it is so. Nine

out of ten of the rich men of our country to-day, started out in life as

poor boys, with determined wills, industry, perseverance, economy and

good habits. They went on gradually, made their own money and saved it;

and this is the best way to acquire a fortune. Stephen Girard started

life as a poor cabin boy, and died worth nine million dollars. A. T.

Stewart was a poor Irish boy; now he pays taxes on a million and a half

dollars of income, per year. John Jacob Astor was a poor farmer boy, and

died worth twenty millions. Cornelius Vanderbilt began life rowing a

boat from Staten Island to New York; now he presents our government with

a steamship worth a million of dollars, and he is worth fifty millions.

“There is no royal road to learning,” says the proverb, and I may say it

is equally true, “there is no royal road to wealth.” But I think there

is a royal road to both. The road to learning is a royal one; the road

that enables the student to expand his intellect and add every day to

his stock of knowledge, until, in the pleasant process of intellectual

growth, he is able to solve the most profound problems, to count the

stars, to analyze every atom of the globe, and to measure the

firmament--this is a regal highway, and it is the only road worth

travelling.

So in regard to wealth. Go on in confidence, study the rules, and above

all things, study human nature; for “the proper study of mankind is

man,” and you will find that while expanding the intellect and the

muscles, your enlarged experience will enable you every day to

accumulate more and more principal, which will increase itself by

interest and otherwise, until you arrive at a state of independence. You

will find, as a general thing, that the poor boys get rich and the rich

boys get poor. For instance, a rich man at his decease, leaves a large

estate to his family. His eldest sons, who have helped him earn his

fortune, know by experience the value of money, and they take their

inheritance and add to it. The separate portions of the young children

are placed at interest, and the little fellows are patted on the head,

and told a dozen times a day, “you are rich; you will never have to

work, you can always have whatever you wish, for you were born with a

golden spoon in your mouth.” The young heir soon finds out what that

means; he has the finest dresses and playthings; he is crammed with

sugar candies and almost “killed with kindness,” and he passes from

school to school, petted and flattered. He becomes arrogant and

self-conceited, abuses his teachers, and carries everything with a high

hand. He knows nothing of the real value of money, having never earned

any; but he knows all about the “golden spoon” business. At college, he

invites his poor fellow-students to his room where he “wines and dines”

them. He is cajoled and caressed, and called a glorious good fellow,

because he is so lavish of his money. He gives his game suppers, drives

his fast horses, invites his chums to fêtes and parties, determined to

have lots of “good times.” He spends the night in frolics and

debauchery, and leads off his companions with the familiar song, “we

won’t go home till morning.” He gets them to join him in pulling down

signs, taking gates from their hinges and throwing them into back yards

and horse-ponds. If the police arrest them, he knocks them down, is

taken to the lock-up, and joyfully foots the bills.

“Ah! my boys,” he cries, “what is the use of being rich, if you can’t

enjoy yourself?”

He might more truly say, “if you can’t make a fool of yourself”; but he

is “fast,” hates slow things, and don’t “see it.” Young men loaded down

with other people’s money are almost sure to lose all they inherit, and

they acquire all sorts of bad habits which, in the majority of cases,

ruins them in health, purse and character. In this country, one

generation follows another, and the poor of to-day are rich in the next

generation, or the third. Their experience leads them on, and they

become rich, and they leave vast riches to their young children. These

children, having been reared in luxury, are inexperienced and get poor;

and after long experience another generation comes on and gathers up

riches again in turn. And thus “history repeats itself,” and happy is he

who by listening to the experience of others avoids the rocks and shoals

on which so many have been wrecked.

LEARN SOMETHING USEFUL.--Every man should make his son or daughter learn

some trade or profession, so that in these days of changing fortunes--of

being rich to-day and poor to-morrow,--they may have something tangible

to fall back upon. This provision might save many persons from misery,

who by some unexpected turn of fortune have lost all their means.

LET HOPE PREDOMINATE, BUT BE NOT TOO VISIONARY.--Many persons are always

kept poor, because they are too visionary. Every project looks to them

like certain success, and therefore they keep changing from one business

to another, always in hot water, always “under the harrow.” The plan of

“counting the chickens before they are hatched” is an error of ancient

date, but it does not seem to improve by age.

DO NOT SCATTER YOUR POWERS.--Engage in one kind of business only, and

stick to it faithfully until you succeed, or until your experience shows

that you should abandon it. A constant hammering on one nail will

generally drive it home at last, so that it can be clinched. When a

man’s undivided attention is centred on one object, his mind will

constantly be suggesting improvements of value, which would escape him

if his brain was occupied by a dozen different subjects at once. Many a

fortune has slipped through a man’s fingers because he was engaging in

too many occupations at a time. There is good sense in the old caution

against having too many irons in the fire at once.

BE SYSTEMATIC.--Men should be systematic in their business. A person who

does business by rule, having a time and place for everything, doing his

work promptly, will accomplish twice as much and with half the trouble

of him who does it carelessly and slipshod. By introducing system into

all your transactions, doing one thing at a time, always meeting

appointments with punctuality, you find leisure for pastime and

recreation; whereas the man who only half does one thing, and then turns

to something else and half does that, will have his business at loose

ends, and will never know when his day’s work is done, for it never will

be done. Of course there is a limit to all these rules. We must try to

preserve the happy medium, for there is such a thing as being too

systematic. There are men and women, for instance, who put away things

so carefully that they can never find them again. It is too much like

the “red tape” formality at Washington and Mr. Dickens’ “Circumlocution

Office,”--all theory and no result.

When the “Astor House” was first started in New York City, it was

undoubtedly the best hotel in the country. The proprietors had learned a

good deal in Europe regarding hotels, and the landlords were proud of

the rigid system which pervaded every department of their great

establishment. When twelve o’clock at night had arrived and there were a

number of guests around, one of the proprietors would say, “Touch that

bell, John”; and in two minutes sixty servants with a water bucket in

each hand, would present themselves in the hall. “This,” said the

landlord, addressing his guests, “is our fire bell; it will show you we

are quite safe here; we do everything systematically.” This was before

the Croton water was introduced into the city. But they sometimes

carried their system too far. On one occasion when the hotel was

thronged with guests, one of the waiters was suddenly indisposed, and

although there were fifty waiters in the hotel, the landlord thought he

must have his full complement, or his “system” would be interfered with.

Just before dinner time he rushed down stairs and said, “There must be

another waiter, I am one waiter short, what can I do?” He happened to

see “Boots” the Irishman. “Pat,” said he, “wash your hands and face;

take that white apron and come into the dining room in five minutes.”

Presently Pat appeared as required, and the proprietor said: “Now Pat,

you must stand behind these two chairs and wait on the gentlemen who

will occupy them; did you ever act as a waiter?”

“I know all about it sure, but I never did it.”

Like the Irish pilot, on one occasion when the captain, thinking he was

considerably out of his course, asked, “Are you certain you understand

what you are doing?”

Pat replied, “Sure and I knows every rock in the channel.”

That moment “bang” thumped the vessel against a rock.

“Ah! be jabers, and that is one of ’em,” continued the pilot. But to

return to the dining-room. “Pat,” said the landlord, “here we do

everything systematically. You must first give the gentlemen each a

plate of soup, and when they finish that, ask them what they will have

next.”

Pat replied, “Ah! an’ I understand parfectly the vartues of shystem.”

Very soon in came the guests. The plates of soup were placed before

them. One of Pat’s two gentlemen ate his soup, the other did not care

for it. He said “Waiter, take this plate away and bring me some fish.”

Pat looked at the untasted plate of soup, and remembering the

injunctions of the landlord in regard to “system,” replied:

“Not till ye have ate yer supe!”

Of course that was carrying “system” entirely too far.

READ THE NEWSPAPERS.--Always take a trustworthy newspaper and thus keep

thoroughly posted in regard to the transactions of the world. He who is

without a newspaper is cut off from his species. In these days of

telegraphs and steam, many important inventions and improvements in

every branch of trade are being made, and he who don’t consult the

newspapers will soon find himself and his business left out in the cold.

BEWARE OF “OUTSIDE OPERATIONS.”--We sometimes see men who have obtained

fortunes, suddenly become poor. In many cases this arises from

intemperance, and often from gaming, and other bad habits. Frequently it

occurs because a man has been engaged in “outside operations,” of some

sort. When he gets rich in his legitimate business, he is told of a

grand speculation where he can make a score of thousands. He is

constantly flattered by his friends, who tell him that he is born lucky,

that everything he touches turns into gold. Now if he forgets that his

economical habits, his rectitude of conduct and a personal attention to

a business which he understood, caused his success in life, he will

listen to the syren voices. He says:

“I will put in twenty thousand dollars. I have been lucky, and my good

luck will soon bring me back sixty thousand dollars.”

A few days elapse and it is discovered he must put in ten thousand

dollars more; soon after he is told “it is all right,” but certain

matters not foreseen require an advance of twenty thousand dollars

more, which will bring him a rich harvest; but before the time comes

around to realize, the bubble bursts, he loses all he is possessed of,

and then he learns what he ought to have known at the first, that

however successful a man may be in his own business, if he turns from

that and engages in a business which he don’t understand he is like

Sampson when shorn of his locks,--his strength has departed, and he

becomes like other men.

If a man has plenty of money he ought to invest something in everything

that appears to promise success and that will probably benefit mankind;

but let the sums thus invested be moderate in amount, and never let a

man foolishly jeopardize a fortune that he has earned in a legitimate

way, by investing it in things in which he has had no experience.

DON’T INDORSE WITHOUT SECURITY.--I hold that no man ought ever to

indorse a note or become security for any man, be it his father or

brother, to a greater extent than he can afford to lose and care nothing

about, without taking good security. Here is a man that is worth twenty

thousand dollars; he is doing a thriving manufacturing or mercantile

trade; you are retired and living on your money; he comes to you and

says:

“You are aware that I am worth twenty thousand dollars, and don’t owe a

dollar; if I had five thousand dollars in cash, I could purchase a

particular lot of goods and double my money in a couple of months; will

you indorse my note for that amount?”

You reflect that he is worth twenty thousand dollars, and you incur no

risk by indorsing his note; you like to accommodate him, and you lend

your name without taking the precaution of getting security. Shortly

after, he shows you the note with your indorsement cancelled, and tells

you, probably truly, “that he made the profit that he expected by the

operation,” you reflect that you have done a good action, and the

thought makes you feel happy. By and by, the same thing occurs again,

and you do it again; you have already fixed the impression in your mind

that it is perfectly safe to indorse his notes without security.

But the trouble is, this man is getting money too easily. He has only to

take your note to the bank, get it discounted and take the cash. He gets

money for the time being without effort; without inconvenience to

himself. Now mark the result. He sees a chance for speculation outside

of his business. A temporary investment of only $10,000 is required. It

is sure to come back before a note at the bank would be due. He places a

note for that amount before you. You sign it almost mechanically. Being

firmly convinced that your friend is responsible and trustworthy, you

indorse his notes as “a matter of course.”

Unfortunately the speculation does not come to a head quite so soon as

was expected, and another $10,000 note must be discounted to take up the

last one when due. Before this note matures the speculation has proved

an utter failure and all the money is lost. Does the loser tell his

friend, the indorser, that he has lost half of his fortune? Not at all.

He don’t even mention that he has speculated at all. But he has got

excited; the spirit of speculation has seized him; he sees others making

large sums in this way (we seldom hear of the losers), and like other

speculators, he “looks for his money where he loses it.” He tries again.

Indorsing his notes has become chronic with you, and at every loss he

gets your signature for whatever amount he wants. Finally you discover

your friend has lost all of his property and all of yours. You are

overwhelmed with astonishment and grief, and you say “it is a hard

thing, my friend here has ruined me,” but, you should add, “I have also

ruined him.” If you had said in the first place, “I will accommodate

you, but I never indorse without taking ample security,” he could not

have gone beyond the length of his tether and he would never have been

tempted away from his legitimate business. It is a very dangerous thing,

therefore, at any time, to let people get possession of money too

easily; it tempts them to hazardous speculations, if nothing more.

Solomon truly said “he that hateth suretiship is sure.”

So with the young man starting in business; let him understand the value

of money by earning it. When he does understand its value, then grease

the wheels a little in helping him to start business, but remember men

who get money with too great facility cannot usually succeed. You must

get the first dollars by hard knocks, and at some sacrifice, in order to

appreciate the value of those dollars.

ADVERTISE YOUR BUSINESS.--We all depend, more or less, upon the public

for our support. We all trade with the public,--lawyers, doctors,

shoemakers, artists, blacksmiths, showmen, opera singers, railroad

presidents, and college professors. Those who deal with the public must

be careful that their goods are valuable; that they are genuine, and

will give satisfaction. When you get an article which you know is going

to please your customers, and that when they have tried it, they will

feel they have got their money’s worth, then let the fact be known that

you have got it. Be careful to advertise it in some shape or other,

because it is evident that if a man has ever so good an article for

sale, and nobody knows it, it will bring him no return. In a country

like this, where nearly everybody reads, and where newspapers are issued

and circulated in editions of five thousand to two hundred thousand, it

would be very unwise if this channel was not taken advantage of to reach

the public in advertising. A newspaper goes into the family and is read

by wife and children, as well as the head of the house; hence hundreds

and thousands of people may read your advertisement, while you are

attending to your routine business. Many, perhaps, read it while you are

asleep. The whole philosophy of life is, first “sow,” then “reap.” That

is the way the farmer does; he plants his potatoes and corn, and sows

his grain, and then goes about something else, and the time comes when

he reaps. But he never reaps first and sows afterwards. This principle

applies to all kinds of business, and to nothing more eminently than to

advertising. If a man has a genuine article, there is no way in which he

can reap more advantageously than by “sowing” to the public in this way.

He must, of course, have a really good article, and one which will

please his customers; anything spurious will not succeed permanently,

because the public is wiser than many imagine. Men and women are

selfish, and we all prefer purchasing where we can get the most for our

money; and we try to find out where we can most surely do so.

You may advertise a spurious article, and induce many people to call and

buy it once, but they will denounce you as an imposter and swindler, and

your business will gradually die out, and leave you poor. This is

right. Few people can safely depend upon chance custom. You all need to

have your customers return and purchase again. A man said to me, “I have

tried advertising, and did not succeed; yet I have a good article.”

I replied, “My friend, there may be exceptions to a general rule. But

how do you advertise?”

“I put it in a weekly newspaper three times, and paid a dollar and a

half for it.”

I replied: “Sir, advertising is like learning--‘a little is a dangerous

thing.’”

A French writer says that “The reader of a newspaper does not see the

first insertion of an ordinary advertisement; the second insertion he

sees, but does not read; the third insertion he reads; the fourth

insertion, he looks at the price; the fifth insertion, he speaks of it

to his wife; the sixth insertion, he is ready to purchase, and the

seventh insertion, he purchases.” Your object in advertising is to make

the public understand what you have got to sell, and if you have not the

pluck to keep advertising, until you have imparted that information, all

the money you have spent is lost. You are like the fellow who told the

gentleman if he would give him ten cents it would save him a dollar.

“How can I help you so much with so small a sum?” asked the gentleman in

surprise. “I started out this morning (hiccupped the fellow) with the

full determination to get drunk, and I have spent my only dollar to

accomplish the object, and it has not quite done it. Ten cents worth

more of whiskey would just do it, and in this manner I should save the

dollar already expended.”

So a man who advertises at all must keep it up until the public know who

and what he is, and what his business is, or else the money invested in

advertising is lost.

Some men have a peculiar genius for writing a striking advertisement,

one that will arrest the attention of the reader at first sight. This

tact, of course, gives the advertiser a great advantage. Sometimes a man

makes himself popular by an unique sign or a curious display in his

window. Recently I observed a swing sign extending over the sidewalk in

front of a store, on which was the inscription, in plain letters,

“DON’T READ THE OTHER SIDE.”

Of course I did, and so did everybody else, and I learned that the man

had made an independence by first attracting the public to his business

in that way and then using his customers well afterwards.

Genin, the hatter, bought the first Jenny Lind ticket at auction for two

hundred and twenty-five dollars, because he knew it would be a good

advertisement for him. “Who is the bidder?” said the auctioneer, as he

knocked down that ticket at Castle Garden. “Genin, the hatter,” was the

response. Here were thousands of people from the Fifth Avenue, and from

distant cities in the highest stations in life. “Who is ‘Genin,’ the

hatter?” they exclaimed. They had never heard of him before. The next

morning the newspapers and telegraph had circulated the facts from Maine

to Texas, and from five to ten millions of people had read that the

tickets sold at auction for Jenny Lind’s first concert amounted to about

twenty thousand dollars, and that a single ticket was sold at two

hundred and twenty-five dollars, to “Genin, the hatter.” Men throughout

the country involuntarily took off their hats to see if they had a

“Genin” hat on their heads. At a town in Iowa it was found that in the

crowd around the Post Office, there was one man who had a “Genin” hat,

and he showed it in triumph, although it was worn out and not worth two

cents. “Why,” one man exclaimed, “you have a real ‘Genin’ hat; what a

lucky fellow you are.” Another man said “Hang on to that hat, it will be

a valuable heir-loom in your family.” Still another man in the crowd,

who seemed to envy the possessor of this good fortune, said, “come, give

us all a chance; put it up at auction!” He did so, and it was sold as a

keepsake for nine dollars and fifty cents! What was the consequence to

Mr. Genin? He sold ten thousand extra hats per annum, the first six

years. Nine-tenths of the purchasers bought of him, probably, out of

curiosity, and many of them, finding that he gave them an equivalent for

their money, became his regular customers. This novel advertisement

first struck their attention, and then as he made a good article, they

came again.

Now, I don’t say that everybody should advertise as Mr. Genin did. But I

say if a man has got goods for sale, and he don’t advertise them in some

way, the chances are that some day the sheriff will do it for him. Nor

do I say that everybody must advertise in a newspaper, or indeed use

“printers’ ink” at all. On the contrary, although that article is

indispensable in the majority of cases, yet doctors and clergymen, and

sometimes lawyers and some others can more effectually reach the public

in some other manner. But it is obvious, they must be known in some way,

else how could they be supported?

BE POLITE AND KIND TO YOUR CUSTOMERS. Politeness and civility are the

best capital ever invested in business. Large stores, gilt signs,

flaming advertisements, will all prove unavailing if you or your

employees treat your patrons abruptly. The truth is, the more kind and

liberal a man is, the more generous will be the patronage bestowed upon

him. “Like begets like.” The man who gives the greatest amount of goods

of a corresponding quality for the least sum (still reserving to himself

a profit) will generally succeed best in the long run. This brings us to

the golden rule, “As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to

them,” and they will do better by you than if you always treated them as

if you wanted to get the most you could out of them for the least

return. Men who drive sharp bargains with their customers, acting as if

they never expected to see them again, will not be mistaken. They never

will see them again as customers. People don’t like to pay and get

kicked also.

One of the ushers in my Museum once told me he intended to whip a man

who was in the lecture room as soon as he came out.

“What for?” I inquired.

“Because he said I was no gentleman,” replied the usher.

“Never mind,” I replied, “he pays for that, and you will not convince

him you are a gentleman by whipping him. I cannot afford to lose a

customer. If you whip him, he will never visit the Museum again, and he

will induce friends to go with him to other places of amusement instead

of this, and thus, you see, I should be a serious loser.”

“But he insulted me,” muttered the usher.

“Exactly,” I replied, “and if he owned the Museum, and you had paid him

for the privilege of visiting it, and he had then insulted you, there

might be some reason in your resenting it, but in this instance he is

the man who pays, while we receive, and you must, therefore, put up with

his bad manners.”

My usher laughingly remarked, that this was undoubtedly the true policy,

but he added that he should not object to an increase of salary if he

was expected to be abused in order to promote my interests.

BE CHARITABLE.--Of course men should be charitable, because it is a duty

and a pleasure. But even as a matter of policy, if you possess no higher

incentive, you will find that the liberal man will command patronage,

while the sordid, uncharitable miser will be avoided.

Solomon says: “There is that scattereth and yet increaseth; and there is

that withholdeth more than meet, but it tendeth to poverty.” Of course

the only true charity is that which is from the heart.

The best kind of charity is to help those who are willing to help

themselves. Promiscuous almsgiving, without inquiring into the

worthiness of the applicant, is bad in every sense. But to search out

and quietly assist those who are struggling for themselves, is the kind

that “scattereth and yet increaseth.” But don’t fall into the idea that

some persons practise, of giving a prayer instead of a potato, and a

benediction instead of bread, to the hungry. It is easier to make

Christians with full stomachs than empty.

DON’T BLAB.--Some men have a foolish habit of telling their business

secrets. If they make money they like to tell their neighbors how it was

done. Nothing is gained by this, and ofttimes much is lost. Say nothing

about your profits, your hopes, your expectations, your intentions. And

this should apply to letters as well as to conversation. Goethe makes

Mephistophiles say: “never write a letter nor destroy one.” Business men

must write letters, but they should be careful what they put in them. If

you are losing money, be specially cautious and not tell of it, or you

will lose your reputation.

PRESERVE YOUR INTEGRITY.--It is more precious than diamonds or rubies.

The old miser said to his sons: “Get money; get it honestly, if you can,

but get money.” This advice was not only atrociously wicked, but it was

the very essence of stupidity. It was as much as to say, “if you find it

difficult to obtain money honestly, you can easily get it dishonestly.

Get it in that way.” Poor fool! Not to know that the most difficult

thing in life is to make money dishonestly! not to know that our prisons

are full of men who attempted to follow this advice; not to understand

that no man can be dishonest without soon being found out, and that when

his lack of principle is discovered, nearly every avenue to success is

closed against him forever. The public very properly shun all whose

integrity is doubted. No matter how polite and pleasant and

accommodating a man may be, none of us dare to deal with him if we

suspect “false weights and measures.” Strict honesty not only lies at

the foundation of all success in life (financially), but in every other

respect. Uncompromising integrity of character is invaluable. It secures

to its possessor a peace and joy which cannot be attained without

it--which no amount of money, or houses and lands can purchase. A man

who is known to be strictly honest, may be ever so poor, but he has the

purses of all the community at his disposal;--for all know that if he

promises to return what he borrows, he will never disappoint them. As a

mere matter of selfishness, therefore, if a man had no higher motive for

being honest, all will find that the maxim of Dr. Franklin can never

fail to be true, that “honesty is the best policy.”

To get rich, is not always equivalent to being successful. “There are

many rich poor men,” while there are many others, honest and devout men

and women, who have never possessed so much money as some rich persons

squander in a week, but who are nevertheless really richer and happier

than any man can ever be while he is a transgressor of the higher laws

of his being.

The inordinate love of money, no doubt, may be and is “the root of all

evil,” but money itself, when properly used, is not only a “handy thing

to have in the house,” but affords the gratification of blessing our

race by enabling its possessor to enlarge the scope of human happiness

and human influence. The desire for wealth is nearly universal, and none

can say it is not laudable, provided the possessor of it accepts its

responsibilities, and uses it as a friend to humanity.

The history of money getting, which is commerce, is a history of

civilization, and wherever trade has flourished most, there, too, have

art and science produced the noblest fruits. In fact, as a general

thing, money getters are the benefactors of our race. To them, in a

great measure, are we indebted for our institutions of learning and of

art, our academies, colleges and churches. It is no argument against the

desire for, or the possession of wealth, to say that there are sometimes

misers who hoard money only for the sake of hoarding, and who have no

higher aspiration than to grasp everything which comes within their

reach. As we have sometimes hypocrites in religion, and demagogues in

politics, so there are occasionally misers among money getters. These,

however, are only exceptions to the general rule. But when, in this

country, we find such a nuisance and stumbling block as a miser, we

remember with gratitude that in America we have no laws of

primogeniture, and that in the due course of nature the time will come

when the hoarded dust will be scattered for the benefit of mankind. To

all men and women, therefore, do I conscientiously say, make money

honestly, and not otherwise, for Shakespeare has truly said, “He that

wants money, means and content, is without three good friends.”

Nearly every paper in London had something to say about my lecture, and

in almost every instance the matter and manner of the lecturer were

unqualifiedly approved. Indeed, the profusion of praise quite

overwhelmed me. The London _Times_, December 30, 1858, concluded a

half-column criticism with the following paragraph:

“We are bound to admit that Mr. Barnum is one of the most

entertaining lecturers that ever addressed an audience on a theme

universally intelligible. The appearance of Mr. Barnum, it should

be added, has nothing of the ‘charlatan’ about it, but is that of

the thoroughly respectable man of business; and he has at command a

fund of dry humor that convulses everybody with laughter, while he

himself remains perfectly serious. A sonorous voice and an

admirably clear delivery complete his qualifications as a lecturer,

in which capacity he is no ‘humbug,’ either in a higher or lower

sense of the word.”

The London _Morning Post_, the _Advertiser_, the _Chronicle_, the

_Telegraph_, the _Herald_, the _News_, the _Globe_, the _Sun_, and other

lesser journals of the same date, all contained lengthy and favorable

notices and criticisms of my lecture. My own lavish advertisements were

as nothing to the notoriety which the London newspapers voluntarily and

editorially gave to my new enterprise. The weekly and literary papers

followed in the train; and even _Punch_, which had already done so much

to keep Tom Thumb before the public, gave me a half-page notice, with an

illustration, and thereafter favored me with frequent paragraphs. The

city thus prepared the provinces to give me a cordial reception.

During the year 1859, I delivered this lecture nearly one hundred times

in different parts of England, returning occasionally to London to

repeat it to fresh audiences, and always with pecuniary success. Every

provincial paper had something to say about Barnum and “The art of Money

Getting,” and I was never more pleasantly or profusely advertised. The

tour, too, made me acquainted with many new people and added fresh and

fast friends to my continually increasing list. My lecturing season is

among my most grateful memories of England.

Remembering my experiences, some years before, with General Tom Thumb at

Oxford and Cambridge, and the fondness of the undergraduates for

practical joking, I was quite prepared when I made up my mind to visit

those two cities, to take any quantity of “chaff” and lampooning which

the University boys might choose to bring. I was sure of a full house in

each city, and as I was anxious to earn all the money I could, so as to

hasten my deliverance from financial difficulties, I fully resolved to

put up with whatever offered--indeed, I rather liked the idea of an

episode in the steady run of praise which had followed my lecture

everywhere, and I felt, too, in the coming encounter that I might give

quite as much as I was compelled to take.

I commenced at Cambridge, and, as I expected, to an overflowing house,

largely composed of undergraduates. Soon after I began to speak, one of

the young men called out: “Where is Joice Heth?” to which I very coolly

replied:

“Young gentleman, please to restrain yourself till the conclusion of the

lecture, when I shall take great delight in affording you, or any others

of her posterity, all the information I possess concerning your deceased

relative.”

This reply turned the laugh against the youthful and anxious inquirer

and had the effect of keeping other students quiet for a half hour.

Thereafter, questions of a similar character were occasionally

propounded, but as each inquirer generally received a prompt Roland for

his Oliver, there was far less interruption than I had anticipated. The

proceeds of the evening were more than one hundred pounds sterling, an

important addition to my treasury at that time. At the close of the

lecture, several students invited me to a sumptuous supper where I met,

among other undergraduates, a nephew of Lord Macaulay, the historian.

This young gentleman insisted upon my breakfasting with him at his rooms

next morning, but as I was anxious to take an early train for London, I

only called to leave my card, and after his “gyp” had given me a strong

cup of coffee, I hastened away, leaving the young Macaulay, whom I did

not wish to disturb, fast asleep in bed.

At Oxford the large hall was filled half an hour before the time

announced for the lecture to begin and the sale of tickets was stopped.

I then stepped upon the platform, and said: “Ladies and Gentlemen: As

every seat is occupied and the ticket-office is closed, I propose to

proceed with my lecture now, and not keep you waiting till the

advertised hour.”

“Good for you, old Barnum,” said one; “Time is money,” said another;

“Nothing like economy,” came from a third, and other remarks and

exclamations followed which excited much laughter in the audience.

Holding up my hand as a signal that I was anxious to say something so

soon as silence should be restored, I thus addressed my audience:

“Young gentlemen, I have a word or two to say, in order that we may have

a thorough understanding between ourselves at the outset. I see symptoms

of a pretty jolly time here this evening, and you have paid me liberally

for the single hour of my time which is at your service. I am an old

traveller and an old showman, and I like to please my patrons. Now, it

is quite immaterial to me; you may furnish the entertainment for the

hour, or I will endeavor to do so, or we will take portions of the time

by turns--you supplying a part of the amusement, and I a part;--as we

say sometimes in America, ‘you pays your money, and you takes your

choice.’”

My auditors were in the best of humor from the beginning, and my

frankness pleased them. “Good for you, old Barnum,” cried their leader;

and I went on with my lecture for some fifteen minutes, when a voice

called out:

“Come, old chap! you must be tired by this time; hold up now till we

sing ‘Yankee Doodle,’” whereupon they all joined in that pleasing air

with a vigor which showed that they had thoroughly prepared themselves

for the occasion, and meanwhile I took a chair and sat down to show them

that I was quite satisfied with their manner of passing the time. When

the song was concluded, the leader of the party said: “Now, Mr. Barnum,

you may go ahead again.”

I looked at my watch and quietly remarked, “Oh! there is time for lots

of fun yet; we have nearly forty minutes of the hour remaining,” and I

proceeded with my lecture, or rather a lecture, for I began to adapt my

remarks to the audience and the occasion. At intervals of ten minutes,

or so, came interruptions which I, as my audience saw, fully enjoyed as

much as the house did. When this miscellaneous entertainment was

concluded, and I stopped short at the end of the hour, crowds of the

young men pressed forward to shake hands with me, declaring that they

had had a “jolly good time,” while the leader said: “Stay with us a

week, Barnum, and we will dine you, wine you, and give you full houses

every night.” But I was announced to lecture in London the next evening

and I could not accept the pressing invitation, though I would gladly

have stayed through the week. They asked me all sorts of questions about

America, the Museum, my various shows and successes, and expressed the

hope that I would come out of my clock troubles all right.

At least a score of them pressed me to breakfast with them next morning,

but I declined, till one young gentleman put it on this purely personal

ground: “My dear sir, you must breakfast with me; I have almost split my

throat in screaming here to-night and it is only fair that you should

repay me by coming to see me in the morning.” This appeal was

irresistible, and at the appointed time I met him and half a dozen of

his friends at his table and we spent a very pleasant hour together.

They complimented me on the tact and equanimity I had exhibited the

previous evening, but I replied: “Oh! I was quite inclined to have you

enjoy your fun, and came fully prepared for it.”

But they liked better, they said, to get the party angry. A fortnight

before, they told me, my friend Howard Paul had left them in disgust,

because they insisted upon smoking while his wife was on the stage,

adding that the entertainment was excellent and that Howard Paul could

have made a thousand pounds if he had not let his anger drive him away.

My new-found friends parted with me at the railway station, heartily

urging me to come again, and my ticket seller returned £169 as the

immediate result of an evening’s good-natured fun with the Oxford boys.

After delivering my lecture many times in different places, a prominent

publishing house in London, offered me £1,200 ($6,000,) for the

copyright. This offer I declined, not that I thought the lecture worth

more money, but because I had engaged to deliver it in several towns and

cities, and I thought the publication would be detrimental to the public

delivery of my lecture. It was a source of very considerable emolument

to me, bringing in much money, which went towards the redemption of my

pecuniary obligations, so that the lecture itself was an admirable

illustration of “The Art of Money Getting.”