DECISION
Resolve, and thou art free.--LONGFELLOW.
The heaviest charged words in our language are those briefest ones,
"yes" and "no." One stands for the surrender of the will, the other
for denial; one stands for gratification, the other for character. A
stout "no" means a stout character, the ready "yes" a weak one, gild it
as we may.--T. T. MUNGER.
The world is a market where everything is marked at a set price, and
whatever we buy with our time, labor, or ingenuity, whether riches,
ease, fame, integrity, or knowledge, we must stand by our decision, and
not like children, when we have purchased one thing, repine that we do
not possess another we did not buy.--MATHEWS.
A man must master his undertaking and not let it master him. He must
have the power to decide instantly on which side he is going to make
his mistakes.--P. D. ARMOUR.
When Rome was besieged by the Gauls in the time of the Republic, the
Romans were so hard pressed that they consented to purchase immunity
with gold. They were in the act of weighing it, a legend tells us,
when Camillus appeared on the scene, threw his sword into the scales in
place of the ransom, and declared that the Romans should not purchase
peace, but would win it with the sword. This act of daring and prompt
decision so roused the Romans that they triumphantly swept from the
sacred soil the enemy of their peace.
In an emergency, the arrival of a prompt, decided, positive man, who
will do something, although it may be wrong, changes the face of
everything. Such a man comes upon the scene like a refreshing breeze
blown down from the mountain top. He is a tonic to the hesitating,
bewildered crowd.
When Antiochus Epiphanes invaded Egypt, which was then under the
protection of Rome, the Romans sent an ambassador who met Antiochus
near Alexandria and commanded him to withdraw. The invader gave an
evasive reply. The brave Roman swept a circle around the king with his
sword, and forbade his crossing the line until he had given his answer.
By the prompt decision of the intrepid ambassador the invader was led
to withdraw, and war was prevented. The prompt decision of the Romans
won them many a battle, and made them masters of the world. All the
great achievements in the history of the world are the results of quick
and steadfast decision.
Men who have left their mark upon their century have been men of great
and prompt decision. An undecided man, a man who is ever balancing
between two opinions, forever debating which of two courses he will
pursue, proclaims by his indecision that he can not control himself,
that he was meant to be possessed by others; he is not a man, only a
satellite. The decided man, the prompt man, does not wait for
favorable circumstances; he does not submit to events; events must
submit to him.
The vacillating man is ever at the mercy of the opinion of the man who
talked with him last. He may see the right, but he drifts toward the
wrong. If he decides upon a course he only follows it until somebody
opposes it.
When Julius Caesar came to the Rubicon, which formed the boundary of
Italia,--"the sacred and inviolable,"--even his great decision wavered
at the thought of invading a territory which no general was allowed to
enter without the permission of the Senate. But his alternative was
"destroy myself, or destroy my country," and his intrepid mind did not
waver long. "The die is cast," he said, as he dashed into the stream
at the head of his legions. The whole history of the world was changed
by that moment's decision. The man who said, "I came, I saw, I
conquered," could not hesitate long. He, like Napoleon, had the power
to choose one course, and sacrifice every conflicting plan on the
instant. When he landed with his troops in Britain, the inhabitants
resolved never to surrender. Caesar's quick mind saw that he must
commit his soldiers to victory or death. In order to cut off all hope
of retreat, he burned all the ships which had borne them to the shores
of Britain. There was no hope of return, it was victory or death.
This action was the key to the character and triumphs of this great
warrior.
Satan's sublime decision in "Paradise Lost," after his hopeless
banishment from heaven, excites a feeling akin to admiration. After a
few moments of terrible suspense he resumes his invincible spirit and
expresses that sublime line: "What matter where, if I be still the
same?"
That power to decide instantly the best course to pursue, and to
sacrifice every opposing motive; and, when once sacrificed, to silence
them forever and not allow them continually to plead their claims and
distract us from our single decided course, is one of the most potent
forces in winning success. To hesitate is sometimes to be lost. In
fact, the man who is forever twisting and turning, backing and filling,
hesitating and dawdling, shuffling and parleying, weighing and
balancing, splitting hairs over non-essentials, listening to every new
motive which presents itself, will never accomplish anything. There is
not positiveness enough in him; negativeness never accomplishes
anything. The negative man creates no confidence, he only invites
distrust. But the positive man, the decided man, is a power in the
world, and stands for something. You can measure him, gauge him. You
can estimate the work that his energy will accomplish. It is related
of Alexander the Great that, when asked how it was that he had
conquered the world, he replied, "By not wavering."
When the packet ship _Stephen Whitney_ struck, at midnight, on an Irish
cliff, and clung for a few moments to the cliff, all the passengers who
leaped instantly upon the rock were saved. The positive step landed
them in safety. Those who lingered were swept off by the returning
wave, and engulfed forever.
The vacillating man is never a prompt man, and without promptness no
success is possible. Great opportunities not only come seldom into the
most fortunate life, but also are often quickly gone.
"A man without decision," says John Foster, "can never be said to
belong to himself; since if he dared to assert that he did, the puny
force of some cause, about as powerful as a spider, may make a seizure
of the unhappy boaster the very next minute, and contemptuously exhibit
the futility of the determination by which he was to have proved the
independence of his understanding and will. He belongs to whatever can
make capture of him; and one thing after another vindicates its right
to him by arresting him while he is trying to go on; as twigs and chips
floating near the edge of a river are intercepted by every weed and
whirled into every little eddy."
The decided man not only has the advantage of the time saved from
dillydallying and procrastination, but he also saves the energy and
vital force which is wasted by the perplexed man who takes up every
argument on one side and then on the other, and weighs them until the
two sides hang in equipoise, with no prepondering motive to enable him
to decide. He is in stable equilibrium, and so does not move at all of
his own volition, but moves very easily at the slightest volition of
another.
Yet there is not a man living who might not be a prompt and decided man
if he would only learn always to act quickly. The punctual man, the
decided man, can do twice as much as the undecided and dawdling man who
never quite knows what he wants. Prompt decision saved Napoleon and
Grant and their armies many a time when delay would have been fatal.
Napoleon used to say that although a battle might last an entire day,
yet it generally turned upon a few critical minutes, in which the fate
of the engagement was decided. His will, which subdued nearly the
whole of Europe, was as prompt and decisive in the minutest detail of
command as in the greatest battle.
Decision of purpose and promptness of action enabled him to astonish
the world with his marvelous successes. He seemed to be everywhere at
once. What he could accomplish in a day surprised all who knew him.
He seemed to electrify everybody about him. His invincible energy
thrilled the whole army. He could rouse to immediate and enthusiastic
action the dullest troops, and inspire with courage the most stupid
men. The "ifs and buts," he said, "are at present out of season; and
above all it must be done with speed." He would sit up all night if
necessary, after riding thirty or forty leagues, to attend to
correspondence, dispatches and, details. What a lesson to dawdling,
shiftless, half-hearted men!
"The doubt of Charles V.," says Motley, "changed the destinies of the
civilized world."
So powerful were President Washington's views in determining the
actions of the people, that when Congress adjourned, Jefferson wrote to
Monroe at Paris: "You will see by their proceedings the truth of what I
always told you,--namely, that one man outweighs them all in influence,
who supports his judgment against their own and that of their
representatives. Republicanism resigns the vessel to the pilot."
There is no vocation or occupation which does not present many
difficulties, at times almost overwhelming, and the young man who
allows himself to waver every time he comes to a hard place in life
will not succeed. Without decision there can be no concentration; and,
to succeed, a man must concentrate.
The undecided man can not bring himself to a focus. He dissipates his
energy, scatters his forces, and executes nothing. He can not hold to
one thing long enough to bring success out of it. One vocation or
occupation presents its rosy side to him, he feels sure it is the thing
he wants to do, and, full of enthusiasm, adopts it as his life's work.
But in a few days the thorns begin to appear, his enthusiasm
evaporates, and he wonders why he is so foolish as to think himself
fitted for that vocation. The one which his friend adopted is much
better suited to him; he drops his own and adopts the other. So he
vacillates through life, captured by any new occupation which happens
to appeal to him as the most desirable at the time, never using his
judgment or common sense, but governed by his impressions and his
feelings at the moment. Such people are never led by principle. You
never know where to find them; they are here to-day and there
to-morrow, doing this thing and that thing, throwing away all the skill
they had acquired in mastering the drudgery of the last occupation. In
fact, they never go far enough in anything to get beyond the drudgery
stage to the remunerative and agreeable stage, the skilful stage. They
spend their lives at the beginning of occupations, which are always
most agreeable. These people rarely reach the stage of competency,
comfort, and contentment.
There is a legend of a powerful genius who promised a lovely maiden a
gift of rare value if she would go through a field of corn, and,
without pausing, going backward, or wandering hither and thither,
select the largest and ripest ear. The value of the gift was to be in
proportion to the size and perfection of the ear. She passed by many
magnificent ones, but was so eager to get the largest and most perfect
that she kept on without plucking any until the ears she passed were
successively smaller and smaller and more stunted. Finally they became
so small that she was ashamed to select one of them; and, not being
allowed to go backward, she came out on the other side without any.
Alexander, his heart throbbing with a great purpose, conquers the
world; Hannibal, impelled by his hatred to the Romans, even crosses the
Alps to compass his design. While other men are bemoaning difficulties
and shrinking from dangers and obstacles, and preparing expedients, the
great soul, without fuss or noise, takes the step, and lo, the mountain
has been leveled and the way lies open. Learn, then, to will strongly
and decisively; thus fix your floating life and leave it no longer to
be carried hither and thither, like a withered leaf, by every wind that
blows. An undecided man is like the turnstile at a fair, which is in
everybody's way but stops no one.
"The secret of the whole matter was," replied Amos Lawrence, "we had
formed the habit of prompt acting, thus taking the top of the tide;
while the habit of some others was to delay till about half tide, thus
getting on the flats."
Most of the young men and women who are lost in our cities are ruined
because of their inability to say "No" to the thousand allurements and
temptations which appeal to their weak passions. If they would only
show a little decision at first, one emphatic "No" might silence their
solicitors forever. But they are weak, they are afraid of offending,
they don't like to say "No," and thus they throw down the gauntlet and
are soon on the broad road to ruin. A little resolution early in life
will soon conquer the right to mind one's own business.
An old legend says that a fool and a wise man were journeying together,
and came to a point where two ways opened before them,--one broad and
beautiful, the other narrow and rough. The fool desired to take the
pleasant way; the wise man knew that the difficult one was the shortest
and safest, and so declared. But at last the urgency of the fool
prevailed; they took the more inviting path, and were soon met by
robbers, who seized their goods and made them captives. A little later
both they and their captors were arrested by officers of the law and
taken before the judge. Then the wise man pleaded that the fool was to
blame because he desired to take the wrong way. The fool pleaded that
he was only a fool, and no sensible man should have heeded his counsel.
The judge punished them both equally. "If sinners entice thee, consent
thou not."
There is no habit that so grows on the soul as irresolution. Before a
man knows what he has done, he has gambled his life away, and all
because he has never made up his mind what he would do with it. On
many of the tombstones of those who have failed in life could be read
between the lines: "He Dawdled," "Behind Time," "Procrastination,"
"Listlessness," "Shiftlessness," "Nervelessness," "Always Behind." Oh,
the wrecks strewn along the shores of life "just behind success," "just
this side of happiness," above which the words of warning are flying!
Webster said of such an undecided man that "he is like the irresolution
of the sea at the turn of tide. This man neither advances nor recedes;
he simply hovers." Such a man is at the mercy of any chance occurrence
that may overtake him. His "days are lost lamenting o'er lost days."
He has no power to seize the facts which confront him and compel them
to serve him.
To indolent, shiftless, listless people life becomes a mere shuffle of
expedients. They do not realize that the habit of putting everything
off puts off their manhood, their capacity, their success; their
contagion infects their whole neighborhood. Scott used to caution
youth against the habit of dawdling, which creeps in at every crevice
of unoccupied time and often ruins a bright life. "Your motto must
be," he said, "_Hoc age_,"--do instantly. This is the only way to
check the propensity to dawdling. How many hours have been wasted
dawdling in bed, turning over and dreading to get up! Many a career
has been crippled by it. Burton could not overcome this habit, and,
convinced that it would ruin his success, made his servant promise
before he went to bed to get him up at just such a time; the servant
called, and called, and coaxed; but Burton would beg him to be left a
little longer. The servant, knowing that he would lose his shilling if
he did not get him up, then dashed cold water into the bed between the
sheets, and Burton came out with a bound. When one asked a lazy young
fellow what made him lie in bed so long, "I am employed," said he, "in
hearing counsel every morning. _Industry_ advises me to get up;
_Sloth_ to lie still; and they give me twenty reasons for and against.
It is my part, as an impartial judge, to hear all that can be said on
both sides, and by the time the cause is over dinner is ready."
There is no doubt that, as a rule, great decision of character is
usually accompanied by great constitutional firmness. Men who have
been noted for great firmness of character have usually been strong and
robust. There is no quality of the mind which does not sympathize with
bodily weakness, and especially is this true with the power of
decision, which is usually impaired or weakened from physical suffering
or any great physical debility. As a rule, it is the strong physical
man who carries weight and conviction. Any bodily weakness, or
lassitude, or lack of tone and vigor, is, perhaps, first felt in the
weakened or debilitated power of decisions.
Nothing will give greater confidence, and bring assistance more quickly
from the bank or from a friend, than the reputation of promptness. The
world knows that the prompt man's bills and notes will be paid on the
day, and will trust him. "Let it be your first study to teach the
world that you are not wood and straw; that there is some iron in you."
"Let men know that what you say you will do; that your decision, once
made, is final,--no wavering; that, once resolved, you are not to be
allured or intimidated."
Some minds are so constructed that they are bewildered and dazed
whenever a responsibility is thrust upon them; they have a mortal dread
of deciding anything. The very effort to come to immediate and
unflinching decision starts up all sorts of doubts, difficulties, and
fears, and they can not seem to get light enough to decide nor courage
enough to attempt to remove the obstacle. They know that hesitation is
fatal to enterprise, fatal to progress, fatal to success. Yet somehow
they seem fated with a morbid introspection which ever holds them in
suspense. They have just energy enough to weigh motives, but nothing
left for the momentum of action. They analyze and analyze, deliberate,
weigh, consider, ponder, but never act. How many a man can trace his
downfall in life to the failure to seize his opportunity at the
favorable moment, when it was within easy grasp, the nick of time,
which often does not present itself but once!
It was said that Napoleon had an officer under him who understood the
tactics of war better than his commander, but he lacked that power of
rapid decision and powerful concentration which characterized the
greatest military leaders perhaps of the world. There were several
generals under Grant who were as well skilled in war tactics, knew the
country as well, were better educated, but they lacked that power of
decision which made unconditional surrender absolutely imperative
wherever he met the foe. Grant's decision was like inexorable fate.
There was no going behind it, no opening it up for reconsideration. It
was his decision which voiced itself in those memorable words in the
Wilderness, "I propose to fight it out on these lines if it takes all
summer," and which sent back the words "unconditional surrender" to
General Buckner, who asked him for conditions of capitulation, that
gave the first confidence to the North that the rebellion was doomed.
At last Lincoln had a general who had the power of decision, and the
North breathed easy for the first time.
The man who would forge to the front in this competitive age must be a
man of prompt and determined decision; like Caesar, he must burn his
ships behind him, and make retreat forever impossible. When he draws
his sword he must throw the scabbard away, lest in a moment of
discouragement and irresolution he be tempted to sheathe it. He must
nail his colors to the mast as Nelson did in battle, determined to sink
with his ship if he can not conquer. Prompt decision and sublime
audacity have carried many a successful man over perilous crises where
deliberation would have been ruin.
"_Hoc age_."