flower. It does not develop strength or determine character, but it is
the measure of his interior richness and worth, and as the blossom can
not tell what becomes of the odor which is wafted away from it by every
wind, so no man knows the limit of that influence which constantly and
imperceptibly escapes from his daily life, and goes out far beyond his
conscious knowledge or remotest thought. Influence is a power we exert
over others by our thoughts, words, and actions; by our lives, in short.
It is a silent, a pervading, a magnetic, a most wonderful thing. It
works in inexplicable ways. We neither see nor hear it, yet, consciously
or unconsciously, we exert it.
Your influence is not confined to yourself or to the scene of your
immediate actions; it extends to others, and will reach to succeeding
ages. Future generations will feel the influence of your conduct. We all
of us at times lose sight of this principle, and apparently act on the
assumption that what we do or think or say can affect no one but
ourselves. But we are so connected with the immortal beings around us,
and with those who are to come after us, that we can not avoid exerting
a most important influence over their character and final condition; and
thus, long after we shall be no more—nay, after the world itself shall
be no more—the consequences of our conduct to thousands of our
fellow-men will be nothing less than everlasting destruction or eternal
life. What we do is transacted on a stage of which all in the universe
are spectators. What we say is transmitted in echoes that will never
cease. What we are is influencing and acting on the rest of mankind.
Neutral we can not be. Living we act, and dead we speak; and the whole
universe is the mighty company, forever looking and listening; and all
nature the tablets, forever recording the words, the deeds, the
thoughts, the passions of mankind.
It is a high, solemn, almost awful thought for every individual man,
that his earthly influence, which has a commencement, will never through
all ages have an end! What is done, is done—has already blended itself
with the boundless, ever-living, ever-working universe, and will work
there for good or evil, openly or secretly, throughout all time. The
life of every man is as the well-spring of a stream, whose small
beginnings are, indeed, plain to all, but whose course and destination,
as it winds through the expanse of infinite years, only the Omniscient
can discern. God has written upon the flower that sweetens the air, upon
the breeze that rocks the flower upon its stem, upon the rain-drop that
swells the mighty river, upon the dew-drops that refresh the smallest
sprig of moss that rears its head in the desert, upon the ocean that
rocks every swimmer in its channel, upon every penciled shell that
sleeps in the caverns of the deep, as well as upon the mighty sun which
warms and cheers the millions of creatures that live in its light,—upon
all he has written, "None of us liveth to himself."
The babe that perished on the bosom of its mother, like a flower that
bowed its head and drooped amid the death-frosts of time,—that babe,
not only in its image, but in its influence, still lives and speaks in
the chambers of the mother's heart. The friend with whom we took sweet
counsel is removed visibly from the outward eye; but the lessons that he
taught, the grand sentiments that he uttered, the deeds of generosity by
which he was characterized, the moral lineaments and likeness of the
man, still survive, and appear in the silence of eventide, and on the
tablets of memory, and in the light of noon and dewy eve; and, though
dead, he yet speaketh eloquently and in the midst of us. Every thing
leaves a history and an influence. The pebble, as well as the planet,
goes attended by its shadow. The rolling rock leaves its scratches on
the mountains, the river its channel in the soil, the animal its bones
in the stratum, the fern and leaf their modest epitaph in the coal. The
falling drop marks its sculpture in the sand or the stone. Not a foot
steps into the snow or along the ground but prints, in characters more
or less lasting, a map of its march. Every act of man inscribes itself
in the memories of its fellows, and in his own manners and face. The air
is full of sounds, the sky of tokens; the ground is all memoranda and
signatures, and every object covered over with hints which speak to the
intelligent.
The sun sets beyond the western hills, but the trail of light he leaves
behind him guides the pilgrim to his distant home. The tree falls in the
forest; but in the lapse of ages it is turned into coal, and our fires
burn now the brighter because it grew and fell. The coral insect dies;
but the reef it raised breaks the surge on the shores of great
continents, or has formed an isle on the bosom of the ocean, to wave
with harvests for the good of man. We live and we die, but the good or
evil that we do lives after us, and is not "buried with our bones."
The career of great men remains an enduring monument of human energy.
The man dies and disappears; but the thoughts and acts survive and leave
an indelible stamp on his race. And thus the spirit of his life is
prolonged, and thus perpetuated, molding the thought and will, and
thereby contributing to form the character of the future. It is the men
who advance in the highest and best directions who are the true beacons
of human progress. They are as lights set upon a hill, illuminating the
moral atmosphere around them; and the light of their spirit continues to
shine upon all succeeding generations. The golden words that good men
have uttered, the examples they have set, live through all time; they
pass into the thoughts and hearts of their successors, help them on the
road of life, and often console them in the hour of death. They live a
universal life, speak to us from their graves, and beckon us on in the
paths which they trod. Their example is still with us, to guide, to
influence, and to direct us. Nobility of character is a perpetual
bequest, living from age to age, and constantly tending to reproduce its
like.
It is what man _was_ that lives and acts after him. What he said sounds
along the years like voices amid the mountain gorges, and what he did is
repeated after him in ever multiplying and never ceasing reverberations.
Every man has left behind him influences for good or evil that will
never exhaust themselves. The sphere in which he acts may be small or it
may be great, it may be his fireside or it may be a kingdom, a village
or a great nation, it may be a parish or broad Europe—but act he does,
ceaselessly and forever. His friends, his family, his successors in
office, his relatives are all receptive of an influence, a moral
influence, which he has transmitted to mankind—either a blessing which
will repeat itself in showers of benediction, or a curse which will
multiply itself in ever-accumulating evil.
We see not in life the end of human actions. Their influence never dies.
In ever-widening circles it reaches beyond the grave. Death removes us
from this to an eternal world. Every morning when we go forth we lay the
molding hand on our destiny, and every evening when we have done, we
have left a deathless impress on eternity. "We touch not a wire but that
it vibrates to God."
Since we all have a personal influence, and our words and actions leave
a well-nigh indelible trace, it is our duty to make that influence as
potential for good as possible. In order to do this you must show
yourself a man among men. It is through the invisible lines which you
are able to attach to the minds with which you are brought into
association that you can influence society in the direction of the
greatest good. You can not move men until you are one of them. They will
not follow you until they have heard your voice, shaken your hand, and
fully learned your principles and your sympathies. It makes no
difference how much you know, nor how much you are capable of doing. You
may pile accomplishments upon acquisitions mountain high; but if you
fail to be a social man, demonstrating to society that your lot is with
the rest, a little child with a song in its mouth and a kiss for all and
a pair of innocent hands to lay upon the knees shall lead more hearts
and change the directions of more lives than you.
A just appreciation of the power of personal influence leads to a sense
of duty resting upon all to see to it that their influence is exerted in
inculcating a proper sense of right in the community in which they live;
to be sure that their weight is constantly cast in the scale of right
against wrong; that they be found furthering all matters of enlightened
public concern. They should as far as possible walk through life as a
band of music moves down the street, flinging out pleasures on every
side through the air to all, far and near, that can listen. Some men
fill the air with their presence and sweetness, as orchards in October
days fill the air with the perfume of ripe fruits. Some women cling to
their own homes like the honeysuckle over the door, yet, like it,
sweeten all the region with the subtle fragrance of their goodness. Such
men and women are trees of righteousness, which are ever dropping
precious fruits around them. Their lives shine like starbeams, or charm
the heart like songs sung upon a holy day.
How great a beauty and blessing it is to hold the royal gifts of the
soul, so that they shall be music to some and fragrance to others, and
life to all! It would be a most worthy object of life to make the power
which we have within us the breath of other men's joys; to scatter
sunshine where only clouds and shadows reign; to fill the atmosphere
where earth's weary toilers must stand with a brightness which they can
not create for themselves, but long for, enjoy, and appreciate. There is
an energy of moral suasion in a good man's life passing the highest
efforts of the orator's genius. The seen but silent beauty of holiness
speaks more eloquently of God and duty than the tongues of men and
angels. Let parents remember this. The best inheritance a parent can
bequeathe to a child is a virtuous example, a legacy of hallowed
remembrance and associations. The beauty of holiness beaming through the
life of a loved relative or friend is more effectual to strengthen such
as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up those that are bowed down,
than precept or command, entreaty or warning.
Shall our influence be for good or for evil? For good? Then let no act
of ours be such as could lead a fellow mortal astray. It is a terrible
thought that some careless word, uttered it may be in jest, may start
some soul upon the downward road. Oh, it is terrible power that we
have—the power of influence—and it clings to us. We can not shake it
off. It is born with us, and it has grown with our growth and
strengthened with our strength. It speaks, it walks, it moves; it is
powerful in every look of our eye, in every word of our mouth, in every
act of our lives. We can not live to ourselves. We must be either a
light to illumine or a tempest to destroy. We must bear constantly in
mind that there is one record we can not interline—our lives written on
others' hearts. How gladly we would review and write a kind word there,
a generous act here, erase a frown and put in a loving word, a bright
smile, and a tender expression. Harshness would be erased, and
gentleness written. But, alas! what is written is written. Clotho will
not begin anew to spin the threads of life, and our actions go forth
into the world freighted with their burden of good or evil influence.
[Illustration: CHARACTER.]
[Illustration]
Character is one of the greatest motive powers in the world. In its
noblest embodiments it exemplifies human nature in its highest forms,
for it exhibits man at his best. It is the corner-stone of individual
greatness—the Doric and splendid column of the majestic structure of a
true and dignified man, who is at once a subject and a king. Character
is to a man what the fly-wheel is to the engine. By the force of its
momentum it carries him through times of temptation and trial; it
steadies him in times of popular excitement and tumult, and exerts a
guiding and controlling influence over his life.
There are trying and perilous circumstances in life which show how
valuable and important a good character is. It is a strong and sure
staff of support when every thing else fails. In the crisis of
temptation, in the battle of life, when the struggle comes either from
within or without, it is our strength, heroism, virtue, and
consistency—our character, in short—which defends and secures our
happiness and honor. And if they fail us in the hour of need—in the
season of danger—all may be irretrievably lost, and nothing left us
except vain regrets and penitential tears.
Character is power, character is influence, and he who has character,
though he may have nothing else, has the means of being eminently
useful, not only to his immediate friends, but to society, to the Church
of God, and to the world. When a person has lost his character all is
lost—all peace of mind, all complacency in himself, are fled forever.
He despises himself; he is despised by his fellow-men. Within is shame
and remorse; without, neglect and reproach. He is of necessity a
miserable and useless man, and he is so even though he be clad in purple
and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day. It is better to be poor;
it is better to be reduced to beggary; it is better to be cast into
prison, or condemned to perpetual slavery than to be destitute of a good
name, or endure the pains and evils of a conscious worthlessness of
character. The value of character is the standard of human progress. The
individual, the community, the nation, tell of their standing, their
advancement, their worth, their true wealth and glory, in the eye of
God, by their estimation of character. That man or nation that lightly
esteems character is low, groveling, and barbarous.
Wherever character is made a secondary object sensualism and crime
prevail. He who would prostitute character to reputation is base. He who
lives for any thing less than character is mean. He who enters upon any
study, pursuit, amusement, pleasure, habit, or course of life, without
considering its effect upon his character is not a trusty or an honest
man. He whose modes of thought, states of feeling, every-day acts,
common language, and whole outward life, are not directed by a wise
reference to their influence upon his character is a man always to be
watched. Just as a man prizes his character so is he.
There is a difference between character and reputation. Character is
what a man is; reputation is what he is thought to be. Character is
within; reputation is without. Character is always real; reputation may
be false. Character is substantial and enduring; reputation may be
vapory and fleeting. Character is at home; reputation is abroad.
Character is in a man's own soul; reputation is in the minds of others.
Character is the solid food of life; reputation is the dessert.
Character is what gives a man value in his own eyes; reputation is what
he is valued at in the eyes of others. Character is his real worth;
reputation is his market price. A man may have a good character and a
bad reputation; or, a man may have a good reputation and a bad
character, as we form our opinion of men from what they appear to be,
and not from what they really are. Most men are more anxious about their
reputation than they are about their character. This is not right. While
every man should endeavor to maintain a good reputation, he should
especially labor to possess a good character. Our true happiness depends
not so much on what is thought of us by others as on what we really are
in ourselves. Men of good character are generally men of good
reputation, but this is not always the case, as the motives and actions
of the best of men are sometimes misunderstood and misrepresented. But
it is important, above every thing, else that we be right and do right,
whether our motives and actions are properly understood and appreciated
or not. Nothing can be so important to any man as the formation and
possession of a good character.
Character is of slow but steady growth, and the smallest child and the
humblest and weakest individual may attain heights that now seem
inaccessible by the constant and patient exercise of just as much moral
power as, from time to time, they possess. The faithful discharge of
daily duty, the simple integrity of purpose and power of life that all
can attain with effort, contribute silently but surely to the building
up of a moral character that knows no limit to its power, no bounds to
its heroism. The influences which operate in the formation of character
are numerous, and however trivial some of them may appear they are not
to be despised. The most powerful forces in nature are those that
operate silently and imperceptibly. This is equally true of those moral
forces which exert the greatest influence on our minds and give
complexion to our character. Among the most powerful are early
impressions, examples, and habits. Early impressions, although they may
appear to be but slight, are the most enduring, and exert a great
influence on life. The tiniest bit of public opinion sown in the minds
of children in private life afterwards issue forth to the world and
become its public opinions, for nations are gathered out of nurseries.
By repetition of acts the character becomes slowly but decidedly formed.
The several acts may seem in themselves trivial, but so are the
continuous acts of daily life.
Our minds are given us, but our characters we make. The full measure of
all the powers necessary to make a man are no more a character than a
handful of seeds is an orchard of fruits. Plant the seeds, and tend them
well, and they will make an orchard. Cultivate the powers, and harmonize
them well, and they will make a noble character. The germ is not the
tree, the acorn is not the oak; neither is the mind a character. God
gives the mind; man makes the character. Mind is the garden; character
is the fruit. Mind is the white page; character is the writing we put on
it. Mind is the metallic plate; character is our engraving thereon. Mind
is the shop, the counting-room; character is our profits on the trade.
Large profits are made from quick sales and small percentage; so great
characters are made by many little acts and efforts. A dollar is
composed of a thousand mills; so is a character of a thousand thoughts
and acts. The secret thought never expressed, the inward indulgence in
imaginary wrong, the lie never told for want of courage, the
licentiousness never indulged in for fear of public rebuke, the
irreverence of the heart, are just as effectual in staining the heart as
though the world knew all about them.
A subtle thing is character, and a constant work is its formation.
Whether it be good or bad, it has been long in its growth and is the
aggregate of millions of little mental acts. A good character is a
precious thing, above rubies, gold, crowns, or kingdoms, and the work of
making it is the noblest labor on earth. A good character is in all
cases the fruit of personal exertion. It is not an inheritance from
parents; it is not created by external advantages; it is no necessary
appendage of birth, wealth, talents, or station; but it is the result of
one's own endeavors. All the variety of minute circumstances which go to
form character are more or less under the control of the individual. Not
a day passes without its discipline, whether for good or for evil. There
is no act, however trivial, but has its train of consequences, as there
is no hair, however small, but casts its shadow.
Not only is character of importance to its possessor as the means of
conferring upon him true dignity and worth, but it exerts an influence
upon the lives of all within its pale, the importance of which can never
be overestimated. It might better be called an effluence; for it is
constantly radiating from a man, and then most of all when he is least
conscious of its emanation. We are molding others wherever we are. Books
are only useful when they are read; sermons are only influential when
they are listened to; but character keeps itself at all times before
men's attention, and its weight is felt by every one who comes within
its sphere.
Other agencies are intermittent, like the revolving light, which, after
a time of brightness, goes out into a period of darkness; but character
is continuous in its operations, and shines with the steady radiance of
a star. A good character is therefore to be carefully maintained for the
sake of others, if possible, more than ourselves. It is a coat of triple
steel, giving security to the wearer, protection to the oppressed, and
inspiring the oppressor with awe. Every man is bound to aim at the
possession of a good character as one of the highest objects of his
life. His very effort to secure it by worthy means will furnish him with
a motive for exertion, and his idea of manhood, in proportion as it is
elevated, will steady and animate his motives. The pursuit of it will
prove no obstacle to the acquisition of wealth or fame; but, on the
contrary, not only is the attainment of a good character an almost
indispensable thing for him who would make his mark in the world, but
such is the nature of character that the control over the acts and
thoughts of an individual, which must be acquired before character can
exhibit inherent strength, conduces, in a very great degree, to the very
condition which produces success.
Character is the grandest thing man can live for; it is to have worth of
soul, wealth of heart, diamond-dust of mind. He who has this aim lives
to be what he ought to be, and to do what duty requires. To him comes
fame, delighted to crown him with her wreaths of honor. Sum it up as we
will, character is the great desideratum of human life. This truth,
sublime in its simplicity and powerful in its beauty, is the highest
lesson of religion, the first that youth should learn, and the last that
age should forget.
[Illustration: PRUDENCE.]
"Prudence, thou virtue of the mind, by which
We do consult of all that's good or ill."
[Illustration]
Amongst the milder virtues which contribute to round out and perfect
life is to be found Prudence. It is a mild and pleasing quality. It
counsels moderation and guidance by wisdom. It is practical wisdom, and
comes of the cultivated judgment. It has reference in all things to
fitness, to propriety, judging wisely of the right thing to be done and
the right way of doing it. It calculates the means, order, time, and
method of doing. Prudence learns from experience quickened by knowledge.
It seeks to keep the practical path rather than that which, indeed,
promises brilliant results, but takes the traveler along dangerous
precipices and through places where there is a risk of his losing all.
The most brilliant attainments are rendered nugatory for want of
prudence, as the giant deprived of his eyes is only the more exposed by
reason of his enormous strength and stature. Prudence is the perfection
of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life. It is invariably
found in men of good sound sense, and is, indeed, their most shining
quality, giving value as it does to all the rest, sets them to work in
their proper time and places, and turns them to the advantage of the
person who is possessed of them. Without it learning is pedantry and wit
impertinence; virtue itself looks like weakness. The best parts only
qualify a man to be more sprightly in errors and active to his own
principles. Prudence is a quality incompatible with vice, and can never
be effectually enlisted in its cause, and he who deliberately gives
himself over to the power of vice and evil habits can never be said to
be acting according to the dictates of the highest reason, wherein
prudence is always distinguished.