TACT OR COMMON SENSE
"Who is stronger than thou?" asked Braham; and Force replied
"Address."--VICTOR HUGO.
Address makes opportunities; the want of it gives them.--BOVEE.
He'll suit his bearing to the hour,
Laugh, listen, learn, or teach.
ELIZA COOK.
A man who knows the world will not only make the most of everything he
does know, but of many things he does not know; and will gain more
credit by his adroit mode of hiding his ignorance, than the pedant by
his awkward attempt to exhibit his erudition.--COLTON.
The art of using moderate abilities to advantage wins praise, and often
acquires more reputation than actual brilliancy.--ROCHEFOUCAULD.
"Tact clinches the bargain,
Sails out of the bay,
Gets the vote in the Senate,
Spite of Webster or Clay."
"I never will surrender to a nigger," said a Confederate officer, when
a colored soldier chased and caught him. "Berry sorry, massa," said
the negro, leveling his rifle; "must kill you den; hain't time to go
back and git a white man." The officer surrendered.
"When God endowed human beings with brains," says Montesquieu, "he did
not intend to guarantee them."
When Abraham Lincoln was running for the legislature the first time, on
the platform of the improvement of the Sangamon River, he went to
secure the votes of thirty men who were cradling a wheatfield. They
asked no questions about internal improvements, but only seemed curious
to know whether he had muscle enough to represent them in the
legislature. Lincoln took up a cradle and led the gang around the
field. The whole thirty voted for him.
"I do not know how it is," said Napoleon in surprise to his cook, "but
at whatever hour I call for my breakfast my chicken is always ready and
always in good condition." This seemed to him the more strange because
sometimes he would breakfast at eight and at other times as late as
eleven. "Sire," said the cook, "the reason is, that every quarter of
an hour I put a fresh chicken down to roast, so that your Majesty is
sure always to have it at perfection."
Talent in this age is no match for tact. We see its failure
everywhere. Tact will manipulate one talent so as to get more out of
it in a lifetime than ten talents will accomplish without it. "Talent
lies abed till noon; tact is up at six." Talent is power, tact is
skill. Talent knows what to do, tact knows how to do it.
"Talent is something, but tact is everything. It is not a sixth sense,
but it is like the life of all the five. It is the open eye, the quick
ear, the judging taste, the keen smell, and lively touch; it is the
interpreter of all riddles, the surmounter of all difficulties, the
remover of all obstacles."
The world is full of theoretical, one-sided, impractical men, who have
turned all the energies of their lives into one faculty until they have
developed, not a full-orbed, symmetrical man, but a monstrosity, while
all their other faculties have atrophied and died. We often call these
one-sided men geniuses, and the world excuses their impractical and
almost idiotic conduct in most matters, because they can perform one
kind of work that no one else can do as well. A merchant is excused if
he is a giant in merchandise, though he may be an imbecile in the
drawing-room. Adam Smith could teach the world economy in his "Wealth
of Nations," but he could not manage the finances of his own household.
Many great men are very impractical even in the ordinary affairs of
life. Isaac Newton could read the secret of creation; but, tired of
rising from his chair to open the door for a cat and her kitten, he had
two holes cut through the panels for them to pass at will, a large hole
for the cat, and a small one for the kitten. Beethoven was a great
musician, but he sent three hundred florins to pay for six shirts and
half a dozen handkerchiefs. He paid his tailor as large a sum in
advance, and yet he was so poor at times that he had only a biscuit and
a glass of water for dinner. He did not know enough of business to cut
the coupon from a bond when he wanted money, but sold the whole
instrument. Dean Swift nearly starved in a country parish where his
more practical classmate Stafford became rich. One of Napoleon's
marshals understood military tactics as well as his chief, but he did
not know men so well, and lacked the other's skill and tact. Napoleon
might fall; but, like a cat, he would fall upon his feet.
For his argument in the Florida Case, a fee of one thousand dollars in
crisp new bills of large denomination was handed to Daniel Webster as
he sat reading in his library. The next day he wished to use some of
the money, but could not find any of the bills. Years afterward, as he
turned the page of a book, he found a bank-bill without a crease in it.
On turning the next leaf he found another, and so on until he took the
whole amount lost from the places where he had deposited them
thoughtlessly, as he read. Learning of a new issue of gold pieces at
the Treasury, he directed his secretary, Charles Lanman, to obtain
several hundred dollars' worth. A day or two after he put his hand in
his pocket for one, but they were all gone. Webster was at first
puzzled, but on reflection remembered that he had given them away, one
by one, to friends who seemed to appreciate their beauty.
A professor in mathematics in a New England college, a "book-worm," was
asked by his wife to bring home some coffee. "How much will you have?"
asked the merchant. "Well, I declare, my wife did not say, but I guess
a bushel will do."
Many a great man has been so absent-minded at times as to seem devoid
of common-sense.
"The professor is not at home," said his servant who looked out of a
window in the dark and failed to recognize Lessing when the latter
knocked at his own door in a fit of absent-mindedness. "Oh, very
well," replied Lessing. "No matter, I'll call at another time."
Louis Philippe said he was the only sovereign in Europe fit to govern,
for he could black his own boots. The world is full of men and women
apparently splendidly endowed and highly educated, yet who can scarcely
get a living.
Not long ago three college graduates were found working on a sheep farm
in Australia, one from Oxford, one from Cambridge, and the other from a
German University,--college men tending brutes! Trained to lead men,
they drove sheep. The owner of the farm was an ignorant, coarse
sheep-raiser. He knew nothing of books or theories, but he knew sheep.
His three hired graduates could speak foreign languages and discuss
theories of political economy and philosophy, but he could make money.
He could talk about nothing but sheep and farm; but he had made a
fortune, while the college men could scarcely get a living. Even the
University could not supply common sense. It was "culture against
ignorance; the college against the ranch; and the ranch beat every
time."
Do not expect too much from books. Bacon said that studies "teach not
their own use, but that there is a practical wisdom without them, won
by observation." The use of books must be found outside their own
lids. It was said of a great French scholar: "He was drowned in his
talents." Over-culture, without practical experience, weakens a man,
and unfits him for real life. Book education alone tends to make a man
too critical, too self-conscious, timid, distrustful of his abilities,
too fine for the mechanical drudgery of practical life, too highly
polished, and too finely cultured for every day use.
The culture of books and colleges refines, yet it is often but an
ethical culture, and is gained at the cost of vigor and rugged
strength. Book culture alone tends to paralyze the practical
faculties. The bookworm loses his individuality; his head is filled
with theories and saturated with other men's thoughts. The stamina of
the vigorous mind he brought from the farm has evaporated in college;
and when he graduates, he is astonished to find that he has lost the
power to grapple with men and things, and is therefore out-stripped in
the race of life by the boy who has had no chance, but who, in the
fierce struggle for existence, has developed hard common sense and
practical wisdom. The college graduate often mistakes his crutches for
strength. He inhabits an ideal realm where common sense rarely dwells.
The world cares little for his theories or his encyclopaedic knowledge.
The cry of the age is for practical men.
"We have been among you several weeks," said Columbus to the Indian
chiefs; "and, although at first you treated us like friends, you are
now jealous of us and are trying to drive us away. You brought us food
in plenty every morning, but now you bring very little and the amount
is less with each succeeding day. The Great Spirit is angry with you
for not doing as you agreed in bringing us provisions. To show his
anger he will cause the sun to be in darkness." He knew that there was
to be an eclipse of the sun, and told the day and hour it would occur,
but the Indians did not believe him, and continued to reduce the supply
of food.
On the appointed day the sun rose without a cloud, and the Indians
shook their heads, beginning to show signs of open hostility as the
hours passed without a shadow on the face of the sun. But at length a
dark spot was seen on one margin; and, as it became larger, the natives
grew frantic and fell prostrate before Columbus to entreat for help.
He retired to his tent, promising to save them, if possible. About the
time for the eclipse to pass away, he came out and said that the Great
Spirit had pardoned them, and would soon drive away the monster from
the sun if they would never offend him again. They readily promised,
and when the sun had passed out of the shadow they leaped and danced
and sang for joy. Thereafter the Spaniards had all the provisions they
needed.
"Common sense," said Wendell Phillips, "bows to the inevitable and
makes use of it."
When Caesar stumbled in landing on the beach of Britain, he instantly
grasped a handful of sand and held it aloft as a signal of triumph,
hiding forever from his followers the ill omen of his threatened fall.
Goethe, speaking of some comparisons that had been instituted between
himself and Shakespeare, said: "Shakespeare always hits the right nail
on the head at once; but I have to stop and think which is the right
nail, before I hit."
It has been said that a few pebbles from a brook in the sling of a
David who knows how to send them to the mark are more effective than a
Goliath's spear and a Goliath's strength with a Goliath's clumsiness.
"Get ready for the redskins!" shouted an excited man as he galloped up
to the log-cabin of the Moore family in Ohio many years ago; "and give
me a fresh horse as soon as you can. They killed a family down the
river last night, and nobody knows where they'll turn up next!"
"What shall we do?" asked Mrs. Moore, with a pale face. "My husband
went away yesterday to buy our winter supplies, and will not be back
until morning."
"Husband away? Whew! that's bad! Well, shut up as tight as you can.
Cover up your fire, and don't strike a light to-night." Then springing
upon the horse the boys had brought, he galloped away to warn other
settlers.
Mrs. Moore carried the younger children to the loft of the cabin, and
left Obed and Joe to watch, reluctantly yielding the post of danger to
them at their urgent request. "They're coming, Joe!" whispered Obed
early in the evening, as he saw several shadows moving across the
fields. "Stand by that window with the axe, while I get the rifle
pointed at this one." Opening the bullet-pouch, he took out a ball,
but nearly fainted as he found it was too large for the rifle. His
father had taken the wrong pouch. Obed felt around to see if there
were any smaller balls in the cupboard, and almost stumbled over a very
large pumpkin, one of the two which he and Joe had been using to make
Jack-o'-lanterns when the messenger alarmed them. Pulling off his
coat, he flung it over the vegetable lantern, made to imitate a
gigantic grinning face, with open eyes, nose, and mouth, and with a
live coal from the ashes he lighted the candle inside. "They'll sound
the war-whoop in a minute, if I give them time," he whispered, as he
raised the covered lantern to the window. "Now for it!" he added,
pulling the coat away. An unearthly yell greeted the appearance of the
grinning monster, and the Indians fled wildly to the woods. "Quick,
Joe! Light up the other one! Don't you see that's what scar't 'em
so?" demanded Obed; and at the appearance of the second fiery face the
savages gave a final yell and vanished in the forest. Mr. Moore and
daylight came together, but the Indians did not return.
Thurlow Weed earned his first quarter by carrying a trunk on his back
from a sloop in New York harbor to a Broad Street hotel. He had very
few chances such as are now open to the humblest boy, but he had tact
and intuition. He could read men as an open book, and mold them to his
will. He was unselfish. By three presidents whom his tact and
shrewdness had helped to elect he was offered the English mission and
scores of other important positions, but he invariably declined.
Lincoln selected Weed to attempt the reconciliation of the "New York
Herald," which had a large circulation in Europe, and was creating a
dangerous public sentiment abroad and at home by its articles in
sympathy with the Confederacy. Though Weed and Bennett had not spoken
to each other before for thirty years, the very next day after their
interview the "Herald" became a strong Union paper. Weed was then sent
to Europe to counteract the pernicious influence of secession agents.
The emperor of France favored the South. He was very indignant because
Charleston harbor had been blockaded, thus shutting off French
manufacturers from large supplies of cotton. But Weed's rare tact
modified his views, and induced him to change to friendliness the tone
of a hostile speech prepared for delivery to the National Assembly.
England was working night and day preparing for war when Weed arrived
upon the scene, and soon changed largely the current of public
sentiment. On his return to America the city of New York extended
public thanks to him for his inestimable services. He was equally
successful in business, and acquired a fortune of a million dollars.
"Tell me the breadth of this stream," said Napoleon to his chief
engineer, as they came to a bridgeless river which the army had to
cross. "Sire, I cannot. My scientific instruments are with the army,
and we are ten miles ahead of it."
"Measure the width of this stream instantly."--"Sire, be
reasonable!"--"Ascertain at once the width of this river, or you shall
be deposed."
The engineer drew the cap-piece of his helmet down until the edge
seemed just in line between his eye and the opposite bank; then,
holding himself carefully erect, he turned on his heel and noticed
where the edge seemed to touch the bank on which he stood, which was on
the same level as the other. He paced the distance to the point last
noted, and said: "This is the approximate width of the stream." He was
promoted.
"Mr. Webster," said the mayor of a Western city, when it was learned
that the great statesman, although weary with travel, would be delayed
for an hour by a failure to make close connections, "allow me to
introduce you to Mr. James, one of our most distinguished citizens."
"How do you do, Mr. James?" asked Webster mechanically, as he glanced
at a thousand people waiting to take his hand. "The truth is, Mr.
Webster," replied Mr. James in a most lugubrious tone, "I am not very
well." "I hope nothing serious is the matter," thundered the godlike
Daniel, in a tone of anxious concern. "Well, I don't know that, Mr.
Webster. I think it's rheumatiz, but my wife----" "Mr. Webster, this
is Mr. Smith," broke in the mayor, leaving poor Mr. James to enjoy his
bad health in the pitiless solitude of a crowd. His total want of tact
had made him ridiculous.
"Address yourself to the jury, sir," said a judge to a witness who
insisted upon imparting his testimony in a confidential tone to the
court direct. The man did not understand and continued as before.
"Speak to the jury, sir, the men sitting behind you on the raised
benches." Turning, the witness bowed low in awkward suavity, and said,
"Good-morning, gentlemen."
"What are these?" asked Napoleon, pointing to twelve silver statues in
a cathedral. "The twelve Apostles," was the reply. "Take them down,"
said Napoleon, "melt them, coin them into money, and let them go about
doing good, as their Master did."
"I don't think the Proverbs of Solomon show very great wisdom," said a
student at Brown University; "I could make as good ones myself." "Very
well," replied President Wayland, "bring in two to-morrow morning." He
did not bring them.
"Will you lecture for us for fame?" was the telegram young Henry Ward
Beecher received from a Young Men's Christian Association in the West.
"Yes, F. A. M. E. Fifty and my expenses," was the answer the shrewd
young preacher sent back.
Montaigne tells of a monarch who, on the sudden death of an only child,
showed his resentment against Providence by abolishing the Christian
religion throughout his dominions for a fortnight.
The triumphs of tact, or common sense, over talent and genius, are seen
everywhere. Walpole was an ignorant man, and Charlemagne could hardly
write his name so that it could be deciphered; but these giants knew
men and things, and possessed that practical wisdom and tact which have
ever moved the world.
Tact, like Alexander, cuts the knots it cannot untie, and leads its
forces to glorious victory. A practical man not only sees, but seizes
the opportunity. There is a certain getting-on quality difficult to
describe, but which is the great winner of the prizes of life.
Napoleon could do anything in the art of war with his own hands, even
to the making of gunpowder. Paul was all things to all men, that he
might save some. The palm is among the hardest and least yielding of
all woods, yet rather than be deprived of the rays of the life-giving
sun in the dense forests of South America, it is said to turn into a
creeper, and climb the nearest trunk to the light.
A farmer who could not get a living sold one half of his farm to a
young man who made enough money on the half to pay for it and buy the
rest. "You have not tact," was his reply, when the old man asked how
one could succeed so well where the other had failed.
According to an old custom a Cape Cod minister was called upon in April
to make a prayer over a piece of land. "No," said he, when shown the
land, "this does not need a prayer; it needs manure."
To see a man as he is you must turn him round and round until you get
him at the right angle. Place him in a good light, as you would a
picture. The excellences and defects will appear if you get the right
angle. How our old schoolmates have changed places in the ranking of
actual life! The boy who led his class and was the envy of all has
been distanced by the poor dunce who was called slow and stupid, but
who had a sort of dull energy in him which enabled him to get on in the
world. The class leader had only a theoretical knowledge, and could
not cope with the stern realities of the age. Even genius, however
rapid its flight, must not omit a single essential detail, and must be
willing to work like a horse.
Shakespeare had marvelous tact; he worked everything into his plays.
He ground up the king and his vassal, the fool and the fop, the prince
and the peasant, the black and the white, the pure and the impure, the
simple and the profound, passions and characters, honor and
dishonor,--everything within the sweep of his vision he ground up into
paint and spread it upon his mighty canvas.
Some people show want of tact in resenting every slight or petty
insult, however unworthy their notice. Others make Don Quixote's
mistake of fighting a windmill by engaging in controversies with public
speakers and editors, who are sure to have the advantage of the final
word. One of the greatest elements of strength in the character of
Washington was found in his forbearance when unjustly attacked or
ridiculed.
Artemus Ward touches this bubble with a pretty sharp-pointed pen.
"It was in a surtin town in Virginny, the Muther of Presidents and
things, that I was shaimfully aboozed by a editer in human form. He
set my Show up steep, and kalled me the urbane and gentlemunly manager,
but when I, fur the purpuss of showin' fair play all round, went to
anuther offiss to get my handbills printed, what duz this
pussillanermus editer do but change his toon and abooze me like a
injun. He sed my wax-wurks was a humbug, and called me a horey-heded
itinerent vagabone. I thort at fust Ide pollish him orf ar-lar Beneki
Boy, but on reflectin' that he cood pollish me much wuss in his paper,
I giv it up; and I wood here take occashun to advise people when they
run agin, as they sumtimes will, these miserable papers, to not pay no
attenshun to um. Abuv all, don't assault a editer of this kind. It
only gives him a notorosity, which is jist what he wants, and don't do
you no more good than it would to jump into enny other mudpuddle.
Editors are generally fine men, but there must be black sheep in every
flock."
John Jacob Astor had practical talent in a remarkable degree. During a
storm at sea, on his voyage to America, the other passengers ran about
the deck in despair, expecting every minute to go down; but young Astor
went below and coolly put on his best suit of clothes, saying that if
the ship should founder and he should happen to be rescued, he would at
least save his best suit of clothes.
"Their trading talent is bringing the Jews to the front in America as
well as in Europe," said a traveler to one of that race; "and it has
gained for them an ascendency, at least in certain branches of trade,
from which nothing will ever displace them."
"Dey are coming to de vront, most zairtainly," replied his companion;
"but vy do you shpeak of deir drading dalent all de time?"
"But don't you regard it as a talent?"
"A dalent? No! It is chenius. I vill dell you what is de difference,
in drade, between dalent and chenius. Ven one goes into a man's shtore
and manaches to seel him vat he vonts, dat is dalent; but ven annoder
man goes into dat man's shtore and sells him vot he don't vont, dat is
chenius; and dat is de chenius vot my race has got."