education—that great, common arena where men and women do battle with
the forces around them. Our duty is so to guide and control these
influences as to be educated in the right direction. We should recognize
the fact that we are educating all the time, and the great question for
us to settle is, "What manner of education are we receiving?" Some are
educated in vice, some in folly, some in selfishness, some in deception,
some in goodness, some in truth. Every day gives us many lessons in
life. Every thought leaves its impression on the mind. Every feeling
weaves a garment for the spirit. Every passion plows a furrow in the
soul. It is our duty as sentient, moral beings so to guide and direct
these thoughts, feelings, and passions that they shall educate us in the
right direction. We are lax in duty to ourselves to let the world
educate us as it will, for we are running a great risk to yield
ourselves up to the circumstances life has thrown about us, to plunge
into the stream of popular custom and allow ourselves to drift with the
current.
But aside from the practical education of everyday life we are to
remember, in our efforts after self-culture, that it is also obligatory
upon us to seek the discipline afforded by books and study. In the
pursuit of knowledge follow it wherever it is to be found; like fern, it
is the product of all climates, and, like air, its circulation is not
restricted to any particular class. Any and every legitimate means of
acquiring information is to be pursued, and all the odds and bits of
time pressed into use. Set a high price upon your leisure moments. They
are sands of precious gold; properly expended they will procure for you
a stock of great thoughts—thoughts that will fill, stir, invigorate,
and expand the soul. As the magnificent river, rolling in the pride of
its mighty waters, owes its greatness to the hidden springs of the
mountain nook, so does the wide, sweeping influence of distinguished men
date its origin from hours of privacy resolutely employed in efforts
after self-development.
We should esteem those moments best improved which are employed in
developing our own thoughts, rather than in acquiring those of others,
since in this kind of intellectual exercise our powers are best brought
into action and disciplined for use. Knowledge acquired by labor becomes
a possession—a property entirely our own. A greater vividness of
impression is secured, and facts thus acquired become registered in the
mind in a way that mere imparted information fails of securing. A habit
of observation and reflection is well-nigh every thing. He who has spent
his whole life in traveling may live and die a thorough novice in most
of the important affairs of life, while, on the other hand, a man may be
confined to a narrow sphere and be engrossed in the prosaic affairs of
every-day life, and yet have very correct ideas of the manners and
customs of other nations. He that studies only men will get the body of
knowledge without the soul; he that studies only books, the soul without
the body. He that to what he sees adds observation, and to what he
reads, reflection, is in the right road to knowledge, provided that in
scrutinizing the hearts of others he neglects not his own. Be not
dismayed at doubts, for remember that doubt is the vestibule through
which all must pass before they can enter into the temple of wisdom;
therefore, when we are in doubt and puzzle out the truth by our own
exertions, we have gained a something which will stay by us and serve us
again. But if to avoid the trouble of a search we avail ourselves of the
superior information of a friend, such knowledge will not remain with
us; we have _borrowed_ it and not _bought_ it.
But man possesses something more than a mere body and intellect; he is
the possessor of moral faculties as well. A true self-culture will be
none the less careful to have the actions of these refined and pure than
it is to possess physical health on the one hand and mental vigor on the
other. Indeed, since your happiness depends upon their healthful
condition more than upon the state of your body and intellect, your
first care should be devoted to giving careful attention to your moral
nature. With disordered moral faculties you will be as a ship without a
helm, dashed on bars and rocks at the will of winds and waves. It is the
vice of the age to substitute learning for wisdom, to educate the head,
and to forget that there is a more important education necessary for the
heart. Let the heart be opened and a thousand virtues rush in. There is
dew in one flower and not in another, because one opens its cup and
takes it in, while the other closes itself and the drop runs off. God
rains his goodness and mercy as widespread as the dew, and if we lack
them it is because we know not how to open our hearts to receive them.
No man can tell whether he is rich or poor by turning to his ledger. It
is the heart that makes a man rich. He is rich or poor according to what
he is, and not what he has. Cultivate your moral nature, then, as well
as bodily strength and mental vigor. The heart is the center of vitality
in the physical body; so the moral senses seem to give vitality to all
the various faculties of the mind. If the moral nature becomes stunted
in its development the mind is apt to become chaotic in its action. How
often we meet with examples of this character in the common walks of
life! Many lose their balance of mind and become wrecks from want of
_heart culture_. Is the _head_ of more importance than the _heart_? It
is true that wealth is the child of the one, but it is equally true that
happiness is the offspring of the other.
Such, then, is an outline of the great problem of self-culture. We can
not escape its claims; from the time reason dawns until death closes the
scene they are pressing upon you. Much of the happiness of life, both
here and hereafter, depends on how you meet its demands. You can, if you
but will it, grow apace in all that is manly or womanly in life; or, by
neglecting the claims of your manifold nature, as utterly fail of so
doing as the stunted shrub fails of being the stately tree with waving
branches and luxuriant foliage.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: LITERATURE.]
[Illustration]
The influence of literature upon a country is well-nigh incalculable.
The Druid warriors were incited to deeds of desperate valor by the songs
of their bards; and in modern times victories are achieved by the
writers of books no less important than many won on tented fields. The
literature of a nation molds the thoughts of a whole people, guides
their actions, and impresses its indelible mark upon the lives and
conduct of its citizens. Who can estimate the effect of Voltaire's
writings on the French people? The results for which many philanthropists
toiled in vain were achieved by the works of Dickens. The power of
books and literature is no less marked in the individual than in the
mass. To the weak, and to the strong in their times of weakness, books
are inspiring friends and teachers. Against the feebleness of
individual efforts they proclaim the victory of faith and patience,
and against the uncertainties and discouragement of one day's work
they set forth the richer and more complete life that results from
perseverance in right actions. It sets the mind more and more in
harmony with the noblest aims, and holds before it a crown of honor
and power.
There is a certain monotony in daily life, and there are those whose
aims are high, but who lack the inherent strength to stand true to them
amid adverse influences, and so gradually drop out of the ever-thinning
ranks of those who would wrest from Fame her richest trophies. They are
conquered by routine, and disheartened by the discipline and labor that
guard the prizes of life. Even to the resolute, persevering ones there
are hours of weakness and weariness. To all such literature comes with
its helping hand in hours of discouragement. It revives hope in the
minds of those almost discouraged, and brings the comforts of philosophy
to the cast-down. Books are a guide to youth and an inspiration for age.
They support us under solitude, and keep us from becoming a burden to
ourselves. They lessen our cares, compose our passions, and lay our
disappointments asleep. When weary of the living, we may, by their aid,
repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevishness, pride, or design in
their conversation.
In books we live continually in the decisive moments of history, and in
the deepest experience of individual lives. The flowers which we cull
painfully and at long intervals in our personal history blossom in
profusion here, and the air is full of fragrance which touches our own
life only in its happier times. In our libraries we meet great minds on
an equality, and feel at ease with them. We come to know them better,
perhaps, than those who bear their names and sit at their tables. The
reserve that makes so many fine natures difficult of access is here
entirely lost. No carelessness of manner, no poverty of speech or
unfortunate personal peculiarity, mars the intercourse of author and
reader. It is a relation in which the exchange of thought is undisturbed
by outward conditions. We lose our narrow selves in the broader life
that is open to us. We forget the hindrance and limitation of our own
work in the full comprehension of that stronger life that can not be
bound nor confined, but grows in all soils, and climbs heavenward under
every sky.
Literature is the soul of action, the only sensible articulate voice of
the accomplished facts of the past. The men of antiquity are dead; their
cities are ruins; their temples are dust; their fleets and armies have
disappeared; yet all these exist in magic preservation in the literature
which they have bequeathed to us, and their manners and their deeds are
as familiar to us as the events of yesterday. Papers and books are
really the teachers, guides, and lawgivers of the world to-day. Their
influence is very much like that of a companion to whom we are attached.
Hence it is of more consequence to know what class to avoid than what to
choose; for good books are as scarce as good companions, and in both
instances all we can learn from bad ones is that so much time has been
worse than thrown away.
We should choose our books as we do our friends, for their sterling and
intrinsic merit, not for the accidental circumstances in their favor.
For, with books as with men, it seldom happens that their performances
are fully equal to their pretensions, nor their capital to their credit.
As we should always seek the companionship of the best class of people,
so we should always seek the companionship of the best books. He that
will have no books but such as are scarce evinces about as correct a
taste in literature as he would do in friendship who should have no
friends but those whom the rest of the world have discarded. Some books
we should make our constant companions and associates; others we should
receive only as occasional acquaintances and visitors. Some we should
take with us wherever we go; others we should leave behind us forever.
Some, of gilded outsides, are full of depravity, and we should shun them
as we would the actual vices which they represent. Some books we should
keep in our hands and lay on our hearts, while the best we could dispose
of others would be to throw them in the fire.
You may judge a man more truly by the books and papers that he reads
than by the company which he keeps, for his associates are in a measure
imposed upon him; but his reading is the result of choice; and the man
who chooses a certain class of books and papers unconsciously becomes
more colored in their views, more rooted in their opinions, and the mind
becomes trained to their way of thinking. All the life and feeling of a
young girl fascinated by some glowing love romance is colored and shaped
by the page she reads. If it is false and weak and foolish, she is false
and weak and foolish too; but if it is true and tender and inspiring,
then something of its truth and tenderness and inspiration will grow
into her soul, and will become a part of her very self. The boy who
reads of deeds of manliness, of bravery and noble doing, feels the
spirit of emulation grow within him, and the seed is planted which will
bring forth fruit of heroic endeavor and exalted life.
In literature our tastes will be discovered by what we give, our
judgment by that which we withhold. That writer does the most who gives
his readers the most knowledge and takes from them the least time, for
that period of existence is alone deserving the name of life which is
rationally employed. Those books are most profitable to read which make
the readers think most. Diminutive books, like diminutive men and women,
may be of greater value than they seem to be; but great tomes are
greatly dreaded. It is a saying that "books file away the mind." Much
reading is certainly not profitable without much meditation, and many
vigorous and profound thinkers have read comparatively little, though it
must be admitted most great minds have been very devout and ardent
readers. There is scarcely any thing that is not to be found in books,
but it does not follow that we shall find every thing in them unless we
handle them with great care.
A beautiful literature springs from the depths and fullness of
intellectual and moral life, from an energy of thought and feeling. It
deals with questions of life in a plain, practical manner. It holds up
the past for your inspection. It brings to light the secrets of nature.
It enables us to discover the infinity of things, the immensity of
nature, the wonders of the heavens, the earth, and the seas. Works of
fiction are the ornamental parts of literature and learning. They are
agreeable embellishments of the edifice, but poor foundations for it to
rest upon. The literature of the day is largely composed of newspapers
and periodicals. No one can too highly appreciate the magic power of the
press or too highly depreciate its abuse. Newspapers have become the
great highway of that intelligence which exerts a controlling power over
a nation, catering the every-day food of the mind. Show us an
intelligent family of boys and girls, and we will show you a family
where newspapers and periodicals are plenty. Nobody who has been without
these private tutors can know their educating power for good or for
evil. Think of the innumerable topics of discussion which they suggest
at the table; the important public measures with which the children thus
early become acquainted; of the great philanthropic questions to which,
unconsciously perhaps, their attention is called, and the general spirit
of intelligence which is evoked by these quiet visitors. This vast world
moves along lines of thought and sentiment and principles, and the press
gives to these wings to fly and tongues to speak.
[Illustration: MENTAL POWER.]
"My mind to me a kingdom is;
Such perfect joy therein I find
As far exceeds all earthly bliss.
Though much I want that most would have,
Yet still my mind forbids to crave."
—SIR EDMUND DYER.
[Illustration]
The triumph of cultivated intellect over the forces of nature is indeed
a wonderful subject for contemplation. The most deadly poisons are made
to conduce to human health and welfare. Electricity does the writing and
talking, and annihilates space. Steam and iron are made to do the work
of nerves and muscles, and lay the four corners of the world under
contribution for our benefit. In view of these and many similar facts,
how full of meaning becomes the old saying, "Knowledge is power!"
Reason, like the magnetic influence imparted to iron, may be said to
give to matter properties and powers which it did not possess before;
but, without extending its bulk, augmenting its weight, or altering its
organization, it is visible only by its effects and perceptible only by
its operations.
Unlike those of the warriors, the triumphs of intellect derive all their
luster, not from the evil they have produced, but from the good. Her
successes and her conquests are the common property of the world, and
succeeding ages will be the watchful guardians of the rich legacies she
bequeathes. The trophies and titles of the conqueror are on the quick
march to oblivion, and amid that desolation where they were planted will
decay. As the mind must govern the hand, so in every society the man of
intelligence must direct and govern the man of ignorance. There is no
exception to this law. It is the natural sequence of the dominion of
mind over matter—a dominion so strong that for a time it can make flesh
and nerves impregnable, and string the sinews like steel, so that the
weak become strong. Some men of a secluded and studious life have sent
forth from their closet or cloister rays of intellectual light that have
agitated courts and revolutionized kingdoms, as the moon, that far
removed from the ocean, and shining upon it with a serene and sober
light, is the chief cause of all those ebbings and flowings which
incessantly disturb that world of waters.
The triumph of mind is shown in various ways. It enables us to surmount
difficulties with facility. Like imprisoned steam, the more it is
pressed, the more it rises to resist the pressure. The more we are
obliged to do, the more we are able to accomplish. Perhaps in no other
respect is the power of mind more signally shown than when it opens to
our view avenues of pleasure before unthought of. Happiness is the great
aim of life. In one form or another we are all striving for it. There
are no pleasures so pure as mental pleasures. We never tire of them. A
lofty mind always thinks loftily. It easily creates vivid, agreeable,
and natural fancies, places them in their best light, clothes them with
all appropriate adornments, studies others' tastes, and clears away from
its own thoughts all that is useless and disagreeable. Mental force or
power is not the inheritance of birth, nor the result of a few years'
spasmodic study; it is only acquired as the result of long and patient
exertion. There is no age at which it can not be increased. There is
absolutely no branch of literature which, when properly digested and
stowed away in the mind, will not show its effect in after life by
increased vigor in the whole mind. Those intellectually strong men and
women who have left their influence on the world's history are almost
without exception found to be those who have possessed broad and deep
acquirements; who have permitted no opportunity for obtaining
information to pass unimproved; who have been content for years to store
away knowledge, confident that in the fullness of time they would reap
the reward.
If any one would be the possessor of mental power he must be willing to
do his duty in obtaining it. There is a tendency to make the acquisition
of knowledge, at the present day, as easy as possible. The end proposed
is good, but the means employed are of doubtful utility. Instead of
toiling painfully on foot up the rugged steeps of learning the student
of to-day flies along a railway track, finding every cliff cut through
and every valley bridged. In this world nothing of value is to be
obtained without labor. So there are some who will question the value of
that education which is not born of patient perseverance and hard work.
As in the exercises of the gymnasium the value consists in the exertions
required to perform them, so that knowledge and mental power acquired by
arduous exertion is of the most lasting and real value. Let patient
toilers find a lesson of encouragement in this. What you thus painfully
acquire will prove of lasting benefit to you.
Mental power is seen in its best form only when all of the mental
faculties have been properly drilled and disciplined. The mind can not
grow to its full stature, nor be rounded into just proportions, nor
acquire that blended litheness, toughness, and elasticity which it
needs, if fed on one aliment. There is no profession or calling which,
if too exclusively followed, will not warp and contract the mind. Just
as if, in the body, a person resolves to be a rower, and only a rower,
the chances are that he will have, indeed, strong arms, but weak legs,
and eyes blinded by the glare of water. Or, if he desires to become an
athlete, he may be all muscles, with few brains. So, in the mind, if he
exercises but one set of faculties and neglects the rest, he may become
a subtle theologian or a sharp lawyer, a keen man of business, or a
practical mechanic, and though the possessor of power it is not power in
its highest and best form.
But for those who are anxious to obtain mental power, and for that
purpose devote the years of a life-time to patient study and reflection,
the rewards it offers are full compensation for all the hours of weary,
self-denying labor. Not only does it afford the best assurance of
success in life's battles and point out to its possessor means of
happiness denied to others, but it is so peculiarly the highest form of
power to which men can aspire that it commands the homage of all, and
reposes as a jewel in the crown of the true man or woman.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: CHOICE OF COMPANIONS.]
[Illustration]
The chameleon changes its color to agree with that of surrounding
objects. We all of us by nature possess this quality to such a degree
that our character, habits, and principles take their form and color
from those of our intimate associates. Association with persons wiser,
better, and more experienced than ourselves is always more or less
inspiring and invigorating. They enhance our knowledge of life. We
correct our estimate by theirs, and become partners in their wisdom. We
enlarge our field of observation through their eyes, profit by their
experience, and learn not only by what they have enjoyed, but—which is
still more instructive—from what they have suffered. If they are
stronger than ourselves, we become participators in their strength.
Hence companionship with the wise and energetic never fails to have a
most valuable influence on the formation of character—increasing our
resources, strengthening our resolves, elevating our aims, and enabling
us to exercise greater dexterity and ability in our own affairs, as well
as more effective helpfulness in those of others.
Young men are in general but little aware how much their reputation is
affected in the view of the public by the company they keep. The
character of their associates is soon regarded as their own. If they
seek the society of the worthy and the respectable, it elevates them in
the public estimation, as it is an evidence that they respect
themselves, and are desirous to secure the respect of others. On the
contrary, intimacy with persons of bad character always sinks a young
man in the eyes of the public. While he, in intercourse with such
persons, thinks but little of the consequences, others are making their
remarks. They learn what his taste is, what sort of company he prefers,
and predict, on no doubtful ground, what will be the result to his own
principles and character. It is they only who are elevated in mind,
character, and position, who can lift us up; while the ignoble,
degraded, and debased only drag us down. We may be deprived of the
advantages of better and superior associations at some time or another,
but, unless we seek for them, we shall not profit by them, nor be
acknowledged to be worthy of them.