The Young Man's Guide

Is it not shameful—would it not be, were human duty properly understood—to pass months, and even years, without washing the whole body once? There are thousands and tens of thousands of both sexes, who are exceedingly nice, even to fastidiousness, about externals;—who, like those mentioned in the gospel, keep clean the 'outside of the cup and the platter,'—but alas! how is it within? Not a few of us,—living, as we do, in a land where soap and water are abundant and cheap—would blush, if the whole story were told.

This chapter, if extended so far as to embrace the whole subject of cleanliness of person, dress, and apartments, and cold and warm bathing, would alone fill a volume; a volume too, which, if well prepared, would be of great value, especially to all young men. But my present limits do not permit of any thing farther. In regard to cold bathing, however, allow me to refer you to two articles in the third volume of the Annals of Education, pages 315 and 344, which contain the best directions I can give on this subject.

Section XVI. On Little Things

There are many things which, viewed without any reference to prevailing habits, manners, and customs, appear utterly unworthy of attention; and yet, after all, much of our happiness will be found to depend upon them. We are to remember that we live—not alone, on the earth—but among a multitude, each of whom claims, and is entitled to his own estimate of things. Now it often happens that what we deem a little thing, another, who views the subject differently, will regard as a matter of importance.

Among the items to which I refer, are many of the customary salutations and civilities of life; and the modes of dress. Now it is perfectly obvious that many common phrases which are used at meeting and separating, during the ordinary interviews and concerns of life, as well as in correspondence, are in themselves wholly unmeaning. But viewed as an introduction to things of more importance, these little words and phrases at the opening of a conversation, and as the language of hourly and daily salutation, are certainly useful. They are indications of good and friendly feeling; and without them we should not, and could not, secure the confidence of some of those among whom we are obliged to live. They would regard us as not only unsocial, but selfish; and not only selfish, but proud or misanthropic.

On account of meeting with much that disgusts us, many are tempted to avoid society generally. The frivolous conversation, and still more frivolous conduct, which they meet with, they regard as a waste of time, and perhaps even deem it a duty to resign themselves to solitude. This, however, is a great mistake. Those who have been most useful to mankind acted very differently. They mingled with the world, in hopes to do something towards reforming it. The greatest of philosophers, as well as of Christians;—even the Founder of Christianity himself—sat down, and not only sat down, but ate and drank in the society of those with whose manners, and especially whose vices, he could have had no possible sympathy.

Zimmerman, who has generally been regarded as an apostle of solitude, taught that men ought not to 'reside in deserts, or sleep, like owls, in the hollow trunks of trees.' 'I sincerely exhort my disciples,' says he, 'not to absent themselves morosely from public places, nor to avoid the social throng; which cannot fail to afford to judicious, rational, and feeling minds, many subjects both of amusement and instruction. It is true, that we cannot relish the pleasures and taste the advantages of society, without being able to give a patient hearing to the tongue of folly, to excuse error, and to bear with infirmity.'

In like manner, we are not to disregard wholly, our dress. It is true that the shape of a hat, or the cut of a coat may not add to the strength of the mind, or the soundness of the morals; but it is also true that people form an opinion often from our exterior appearance; and will continue to do so: and first impressions are very difficult to be overcome. If we regard our own usefulness, therefore, we shall not consider the fashion or character of our dress as a little thing in its results. I have said elsewhere that we ought neither to be the first nor the last in a fashion.

We should remember, also, that the world, in its various parts and aspects, is made up of little things. So true is this, that I have sometimes been very fond of the paradoxical remark, that 'little things are great things;' that is, in their results. For who does not know that throughout the physical world, the mightiest results are brought about by the silent working of small causes? It is not the tornado, or the deluge, or even the occasional storm of rain, that renews and animates nature, so much as the gentle breeze, the soft refreshing shower, and the still softer and gentler dews of heaven.

So in human life, generally, they are the little things often, that produce the mightier results. It is he who takes care of pence and farthings, not he who neglects them, that thrives. It is he alone who guards his lips against the first improper word,—trifling as it may seem—that is secure against future profanity. He who indulges one little draught of alcoholic drink, is in danger of ending a tippler; he who gives loose to one impure thought, of ending the victim of lust and sensuality. Nor is it one single gross, or as it were accidental act, viewed as insulated from the rest—however injurious it may be—that injures the body, or debases the mind, so much as the frequent repetition of those smaller errors, whose habitual occurrence goes to establish the predominating choice of the mind, or affection of the soul.

Avoid then, the pernicious, the fatal error, that little things are of no consequence: little sums of money, little fragments of time, little or trifling words, little or apparently unimportant actions. On this subject I cannot help adopting—and feeling its force too,—the language of a friend of temperance in regard to those who think themselves perfectly secure from danger, and are believers in the harmlessness of little things. 'I tremble,' said he, 'for the man that does not tremble for himself.'

Section XVII. Of Anger, and the means of restraining it

There is doubtless much difference of native temperament. One person is easily excited, another, more slowly. But there is a greater difference still, resulting from our habits.

If we find ourselves easily led into anger, we should be extremely careful how we indulge the first steps that lead towards it. Those who naturally possess a mild temper may, with considerable safety, do and say many things which others cannot. Thus we often say of a person who has met with a misfortune, 'It is good enough for him;' or of a criminal who has just been condemned to suffer punishment, 'No matter; he deserves it.' Or perhaps we go farther, and on finding him acquitted, say, 'He ought to have been hanged, and even hanging was too good for him.'

Now all these things, in the mouths of the irritable, lead the way to an indulgence of anger, however unperceived may be the transition. It is on this principle that the saying of St. John is so strikingly true; 'He that hateth his brother is a murderer;' that is, he that indulges hatred has the seeds within him, not only of out-breaking anger, but of murder.

It is on this account that I regret the common course taken with children in relation to certain smaller tribes of the animal creation. They are allowed not only to destroy them,—(which is doubtless often a duty,) but to destroy them in anger; to indulge a permanent hatred towards them; and to think this hatred creditable and scriptural. When such feelings lead us to destroy even the most troublesome or disgusting reptiles or insects in anger, we have so far prepared the way for the indulgence of anger towards our fellow creatures, whenever their conduct shall excite our displeasure.

We can hence see why he who has a violent temper should always speak in a low voice, and study mildness and sweetness in his tones. For loud, impassioned, and boisterous tones certainly excite impassioned feelings. So do all the actions which indicate anger. Thus Dr. Darwin has said that any individual, by using the language and actions of an angry person, towards an imaginary object of displeasure, and accompanying them by threats, and blows, with a doubled or clinched fist, may easily work himself into a rage. Of the justice of this opinion I am fully convinced, from actual and repeated experiments.

If we find ourselves apt to be angry, we should endeavor to avoid the road which leads to it. The first thing to be done, is to govern our voice. On this point, the story of the Quaker and the merchant may not be uninstructive.

A merchant in London had a dispute with a Quaker gentleman about the settlement of an account. The merchant was determined to bring the action into court,—a course of proceeding to which the Quaker was wholly opposed;—he therefore used every argument in his power to convince the merchant of his error; but all to no purpose.

Desirous of making a final effort, however, the Quaker called at the house of the merchant, one morning, and inquired of the servant if his master was at home. The merchant hearing the inquiry from the top of the stairs, and knowing the voice, called out, loudly, 'Tell that rascal I am not at home.' The Quaker, looking up towards him, said calmly; 'Well, friend, may God put thee in a better mind.'

The merchant was struck with the meekness of the reply, and after thinking more deliberately of the matter, became convinced that the Quaker was right, and he in the wrong. He requested to see him, and after acknowledging his error, said, 'I have one question to ask you. How were you able to bear my abuse with so much patience?'

'Friend,' replied the Quaker, 'I will tell thee. I was naturally as hot and violent as thou art. But I knew that to indulge my temper was sinful, and also very foolish. I observed that men in a passion always spoke very loud; and I thought if I could control my voice, I should keep down my passions. I therefore made it a rule never to let it rise above a certain key; and by a careful observance of this rule, I have, with the blessing of God, entirely mastered my natural temper.'

When you are tempted by the conduct of those around you, to be angry, endeavor to consider the matter for a few moments. If your temper be so impetuous that you find this highly difficult, you may adopt some plan or device for gaining time. Some recommend counting twenty or thirty, deliberately. The following anecdote of the celebrated Zimmerman is exactly in point, and may afford useful hints for instruction.

Owing in part to a diseased state of body, Zimmerman was sometimes irritable. One day, a Russian princess and several other ladies entered his apartment to inquire after his health; when, in a fit of petulance, he rose, and requested them to leave the room. The prince entered some time afterward, when Zimmerman had begun to repent of his rashness, and after some intervening conversation, advised him, whenever he felt a disposition to treat his friends so uncivilly again, to repeat, mentally, the Lord's prayer. This advice was followed, and with success. Not long afterward the same prince came to him for advice in regard to the best manner of controlling the violence of those transports of affection towards his young and amiable consort, in which young and happy lovers are so apt to indulge. 'My dear friend,' said Zimmerman, 'there is no expedient which can surpass your own. Whenever you feel yourself overborne by passion, you have only to repeat the Lord's prayer, and you will be able to reduce it to a steady and permanent flame.'

By adopting Zimmerman's rule, we shall, as I have already observed, gain time for reflection, than which nothing more is needed. For if the cause of anger be a report, for example, of injury done to us by an absent person, either in words or deeds, how do we know the report is true? Or it may be only partly true; and how do we know, till we consider the matter well, whether it is worth our anger at all? Or if at all, perhaps it deserves but a little of it. It may be, too, that the person who said or did the thing reported, did it by mistake, or is already sorry for it. At all events, nothing can be gained by haste; much may be by delay.

If a passionate person give you ill language, you ought rather to pity than be angry with him, for anger is a species of disease. And to correct one evil, will you make another? If his being angry is an evil, will it mend the matter to make another evil, by indulging in passion yourself? Will it cure his disease, to throw yourself into the same distemper? But if not, then how foolish is it to indulge improper feelings at all!

On the same principles, and for the same reasons, you should avoid returning railing for railing; or reviling for reproach. It only kindles the more heat. Besides, you will often find silence, or at least very gentle words, as in the case of the Quaker just mentioned, the best return for reproaches which could be devised. I say the best 'return;' but I would not be understood as justifying any species of revenge. The kind of return here spoken of is precisely that treatment which will be most likely to cure the distemper in the other, by making him see, and be sorry for, his passion.

If the views taken in this section be true, it is easy to see the consummate folly of all violence, whether between individuals or collective bodies, whether it be by striking, duelling, or war. For if an individual or a nation has done wrong, will it annihilate that wrong to counteract it by another wrong? Is it not obvious that it only makes two evils, where but one existed before? And can two wrongs ever make one right action? Which is the most rational, when the choice is in our power, to add to one existing evil, another of similar or greater magnitude; or to keep quiet, and let the world have but one cup of misery instead of two?

Besides, the language of Scripture is every where full and decided on this point. 'Recompense to no man evil for evil,' and 'wo to him by whom the offence cometh,' though found but once or twice in just so many words, are in fact, some of the more prominent doctrines of the New Testament; and I very much doubt whether you can read many pages, in succession, in any part of the bible, without finding this great principle enforced. The daily example of the Saviour, and the apostles and early Christians, is a full confirmation of it, in practice.

CHAPTER II.

On the Management of Business

Section I. On commencing Business

Young men are usually in haste to commence business for themselves. This is an evil, and one which appears to me to be increasing. Let me caution my readers to be on their guard against it.

The evils of running in debt will be adverted to elsewhere. I mention the subject in this place, because the earlier you commence business, the greater the necessity of resorting to credit. You may, indeed, in some employments, begin on a very small scale; but this is attended with serious disadvantages, especially at the present day, when you must meet with so much competition. Perhaps a few may be furnished with capital by their friends, or by inheritance. In the latter case they may as well use their money, if they receive it; but I have already endeavored to show that it is generally for the interest of young men to rely upon their own exertions. It is extremely difficult for a person who has ever relied on others, to act with the same energy as those who have been thrown upon their own resources.4 To learn the art of inheriting property or receiving large gifts, and of acting with the same energy as if left wholly to our own resources, must be reserved, I believe, for future and wiser generations of our race.

I repeat it, therefore, every person had better defer going into business for himself, until he can stand entirely on his own footing. Is it asked how he can have funds from his own resources, before he has actually commenced business for himself? Why the thing is perfectly easy. He has only to labor a few years in the service of another. True it is, he may receive but moderate wages during this time; but on the other hand, he will be subjected to little or no risk.

Let 1,000 young men, at the age of 30 years, enter into business with a given amount of capital, all acquired by their own hard earnings, and let them pursue their business 30 years faithfully; that is, till they are 60 years of age. Let 1,000 others commence at the age of 20, with three times the amount of capital possessed by the former, but at the same time either inherited, or loaned by their friends, and let them pursue their calling till they are 60 years of age; or for a period of 40 years. We will suppose the natural talents, capacity for doing business, and expenditures—in fact every thing,—the same, in both cases. Now it requires no gift of prophecy to foretell, with certainty, that at 60 years of age a far greater proportion of the 1,000, who began at 30 and depended solely on their own exertions, will be men of wealth, than of those who began at 20 with three times their capital. The reason of these results is found in the very nature of things, as I have shown both above, and in my remarks on industry.

But these views are borne out by facts. Go into any city in the United States, and learn the history of the men who are engaged in active and profitable business, and are thriving in the world, and my word for it, you will find the far greater part began life with nothing, and have had no resources whatever but their own head and hands. And in no city is this fact more strikingly verified than in Boston. On the other hand, if you make a list of those who fail in business from year to year, and learn their history, you will find that a very large proportion of them relied on inheritances, credit, or some kind of foreign aid in early life;—and not a few begun very young.

There is no doctrine in this volume, which will be more unpopular with its readers, than this. Not a few will, I fear, utterly disbelieve it. They look at the exterior appearance of some young friend, a little older than themselves, who has been lifted into business and gone on a year or two, and all appears fair and encouraging. They long to imitate him. Point them to a dozen others who have gone only a little farther, and have made shipwreck, and it weighs nothing or next to nothing with them. They suspect mismanagement, (which doubtless sometimes exists) and think they shall act more wisely.

In almost every considerable shop in this country may be found young men who have nearly served out their time as apprentices, or perhaps have gone a little farther, even, and worked a year or two as journeymen. They have been industrious and frugal, and have saved a few hundred dollars. This, on the known principles of human nature, has created a strong desire to make additions; and the desire has increased in a greater ratio than the sum. They are good workmen, perhaps, or if not, they generally think so; and those who have the least merit, generally have the most confidence in themselves. But if there be one who has merit, there is usually in the neighborhood some hawk-eyed money dealer, who knows that he cannot better invest his funds than in the hands of active young men. This man will search him out, and offer to set him up in business; and his friends, pleased to have him noticed, give security for payment. Thus flattered, he commonly begins; and after long patience and perseverance, he may, by chance, succeed. But a much greater number are unsuccessful, and a few drown their cares and perplexities in the poisoned bowl, or in debauchery;—perhaps both—thus destroying their minds and souls; or, it may be, abruptly putting an end to their own existence.

Young men are apt to reason thus with themselves. 'I am now arrived at an age when others have commenced business and succeeded. It is true I may not succeed; but I know of no reason why my prospects are not as good as those of A, B, and C, to say the least. I am certainly as good a workman, and know as well how to manage, and attend to my own concerns, without intermeddling with those of others. It is true my friends advise me to work as a journeyman a few years longer; but it is a hard way of living. Besides, what shall I learn all this while, that I do not already know? They say I shall be improving in the practical part of my business, if not in the theory of it. But shall I not improve while I work for myself? Suppose I make blunders. Have not others done the same? If I fall, I must get up again. Perhaps it will teach me not to stumble again. The fact is, old people never think the young know or can do any thing till they are forty years old. I am determined to make an effort. A good opportunity offers, and such a one may never again occur. I am confident I shall succeed.'

How often have I heard this train of reasoning pursued! But if it were correct, how happens it that those facts exist which have just been mentioned? More than this; why do almost all men assert gratuitously after they have spent twenty years in their avocation, that although they thought themselves wise when they began their profession, they were exceedingly ignorant? Who ever met with a man that did not feel this ignorance more sensibly after twenty years of experience, than when he first commenced?

This self flattery and self confidence—this ambition to be men of business and begin to figure in the world,—is not confined to any particular occupation or profession of men, but is found in all. Nor is it confined to those whose object in life is pecuniary emolument. It is perhaps equally common among those who seek their happiness in ameliorating the condition of mankind by legislating for them, settling their quarrels, soothing their passions, or curing the maladies of their souls and bodies.

Perhaps the evil is not more glaring in any class of the community than in the medical profession. There is a strong temptation to this, in the facility with which licenses and diplomas may be obtained. Any young man who has common sense, if he can read and write tolerably, may in some of the States, become a knight of the lancet in three years, and follow another employment a considerable part of the time besides. He has only to devote some of his extra hours to the study of anatomy, surgery, and medicine, recite occasionally to a practitioner, as ignorant, almost, as himself; hear one series of medical lectures; and procure certificates that he has studied medicine 'three years,' including the time of the lectures; and he will be licensed, almost of course. Then he sallies forth to commit depredations on society at discretion; and how many he kills is unknown. 'I take it for granted, however,' said a President of a College, three years ago, who understood this matter pretty well, 'that every half-educated young physician, who succeeds at last in getting a reputable share of practice, must have rid the world, rather prematurely, of some dozen or twenty individuals, at the least, in order to qualify himself for the profession.'

The evil is scarcely more tolerable, as regards young ministers, except that the community in general have better means of knowing when they are imposed upon by ignorance or quackery in this matter, than in most other professions. The principal book for a student of theology is in the hands of every individual, and he is taught to read and understand it. The great evil which arises to students of divinity themselves from entering their profession too early, is the loss of health. Neither the minds nor the bodies of young men are equal to the responsibilities of this, or indeed of any other profession or occupation, at 20, and rarely at 25. Nothing is more evident than that young men, generally, are losers in the end, both in a pecuniary point of view and in regard to health, by commencing business before 30 years of age. But this I have already attempted to show.

As regards candidates for the ministry, several eminent divines are beginning to inculcate the opinion, with great earnestness, that to enter fully upon the active duties of this laborious vocation before the age I have mentioned, is injurious to themselves and to the cause they wish to promote—the cause of God. And I hope their voices will be raised louder and louder on this topic, till the note of remonstrance reaches the most distant villages of our country.