How to Get on in the World - Alfred Rochefort Calhoun (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📗

"Shun delays, they breed remorse;
  Take thy time while time is lent thee;
Creeping snails have weakest force,
  Fly their fault, lest thou repent thee;
    Good is best when sooner wrought,
    Ling'ring labors come to nought.

"Hoist up sail while gale doth last,
  Tide and wind stay no man's pleasure!
Seek not time when time is past,
  Sober speed is wisdom's leisure;
    After-wits are dearly bought,
    Let thy fore-wit guide thy thought.

"Time wears all his locks before,
  Take thou hold upon his forehead;
When he flees he turns no more,
  And behind his scalp is naked.
    Works adjourn'd have many stays,
    Long demurs breed new delays."

"Look before you leap," old Commodore Vanderbilt used to say. "I like active men, but I have no use for the fellow who is so much in earnest that he goes off half-cocked." We all know the danger of a gun that goes off half-cocked, but it is not so apt to bring disaster as is the man who goes off without due preparation.

It is fortunate for us that we cannot see into the future, but the Father who has kept from us the gift of prophecy has blessed us with a foresight and judgment that enable us to see pretty accurately what must be the inevitable consequence of certain acts.

The power to observe carefully and judge accurately is a rare gift, but it is one that can be cultivated. The ancients had a motto "Know thyself," and the great poet Pope tells us that "the proper study of mankind is man." A knowledge of human nature is invaluable in every life-calling that brings us into contact with our fellows, and this can be gained only by careful observation.

Stephen Girard attributed much of his success to his "ability to read men at a glance." And so carefully did the great merchant prince, Alexander T, Stewart, study this, that it is said he rarely made a mistake in the character of a man he took into his employ.

Cultivate observation. Oliver Wendell Holmes maintained that all the difference in men, no matter their callings, lay in the difference of their ability to observe and draw proper conclusions from their observations. Professor Huxley says that "observation is the basis of all our scientific knowledge." And Andrew Carnegie attributes his great success to his cultivation of this faculty.

Every young man, ambitious to win—and what young man worthy the name is not?—should have a standard of excellence for himself, and then he should carefully study and observe the methods of the men who he admires or with whom he is brought into contact. It is the ability to do this that constitutes the difference between the man drudge and the man anxious to assume greater responsibilities by mastering his necessary duties.

In a lecture to young men on this subject, Henry Ward Beecher said:

"The young should begin life with a standard of excellence before them, to which they should readily conform themselves. There should be a fixed determination to make the best of one's self, in whatever circumstances we may be placed. Let the young man determine that whatever he undertakes he will do well; that he will make himself master of the business upon which he enters, and always prepare himself for advancement by becoming worthy of it. It is not opportunity of rising which is wanting, so much as the ability to rise. It is not the patronage of friends and the outward helps of fortune, to which the prominent men of our country owe their elevation, either in wealth or influence, so much as to their own vigorous and steady exertions. We hear a great many complaints, both among young men and old, of the favoritism of fortune, and the partiality of the world; but observation leads us to believe that, to a very great extent, those who deserve promotion obtain it. Those who are worthy of confidence will have confidence reposed in them. Those who give evidence of ability and industry will find opportunity enough for their exercise."

Take a familiar illustration. A young man engages in some business, and is, in ever respect, a beginner in life. A common education is all that he possesses. He knows almost nothing of the world, and very little of the occupation on which he has entered. He performs his duty from day to day sufficiently well, and does what he is expected to do. But it does not enter into his mind to do anything beyond what is required, nor to enlarge his capacities by reading or reflection. He is, at the best, a steady plodding man, who will go forward, if at all, very slowly, and will rise, if at all, to no great elevation. He is not the sort of person who is looked for to occupy a higher position. One opportunity of advancement after another may come directly within his reach, and he asks the influence of friends to help him to secure it. They give their aid feebly, because they have no great hopes of success, and are not confident of their own recommendation. As a matter of course, some one else, more competent or more in earnest, steps in before him, and then we hear renewed complaints of favoritism and injustice. Such a one may say in his defense that he has been guilty of no dereliction of duty; that no fault has been found with him, and that, therefore, he was entitled to advancement. But this does not follow. Something more that that may reasonably be required. To bestow increased confidence, we require the capacity and habit of improvement in those whom we employ. The man who is entitled to rise is one who is always enlarging his capacity, so that he is evidently able to do more that he is actually doing.

In every department of business, whether mechanical or mercantile, or whatever it may be, there is a large field of useful knowledge which should be carefully explored. An observing eye and an inquiring mind will always find enough for examination and study. It may not seem to be of immediate use—it may have nothing to do with this week's or this year's duty—yet it is worth knowing. The mind gains greater skillfulness by the intelligence which directs it.

The result is all the difference between a mere drudge and an intelligent workman; between the mere salesman or clerk and the enterprising merchant; between the obscure and pettifogging lawyer and the sagacious, influential counselor. It is the difference between one who deserves to be, and will be, stationary in the world, and one who, having determined to make the best of himself, will continually rise in influence and true respectability. This whole difference we may see every day among those who have enjoyed nearly equal opportunities. We may allow something for what are called the accidents of social influence, and the turns of fortune. But, after all fair allowance has been made, we shall find that the great cause of difference is in the men themselves. Let the young man who is beginning life put away from him all notions of advancement without desert. A man of honorable feelings will not even desire it. He will ever shrink from engaging in duties which he is not able fairly to perform. He will, first of all, secure to himself the capacity of performing them, and then he is ready for them whenever they come.

Without observation and judgment there can be no permanent advance. Without observation, experience has no value, and the passing years add nothing to our fund of useful knowledge. Judgment is the ability to weigh these observations, and use them for our own protection or advancement.

Not only in business, but in science and art, observation and good judgment are necessary. Excellence in art, as in everything else, can only be achieved by dint of painstaking labor and a close observation of those whom we regard as our superiors. There is nothing less accidental than the painting of a fine picture, or the chiseling of a noble statue. Every skilled touch of the artist's brush or chisel, though guided by genius, is the product of unremitting study. Sir Joshua Reynolds was such a believer in the force of industry, that he held that artistic excellence, "however expressed by genius, taste, or the gift of heaven may be acquired." Writing to Barry he said, "Whoever is resolved to excel in painting, or indeed any other art, must bring all his mind to bear upon that one object from the moment that he rises till he goes to bed." And on another occasion he said, "Those who are resolved to excel must go to their work, willing or unwilling, morning, noon, and, night: they will find it no play, but very hard labor." But although diligent application is no doubt absolutely necessary for the achievement of the highest distinction in art, it is equally true that, without the inborn genius, no amount of mere industry, however well applied, will make an artist. The gift comes by nature, but is perfected by self-culture, which is of more avail that all the imparted learning of the schools. But even genius without good judgment may be an unbroken steed without a bridle.

All great artists and authors have been famed for their powers of observation; indeed, it is claimed that it is this power that distinguishes them from other men.

No matter how generous nature has been in bestowing the gift of genius, the pursuit of art is nevertheless a long and continuous labor. Many artists have been precocious, but without diligence their precocity would have come to nothing. The anecdote related of West is well known. When only seven years old, struck with the beauty of the sleeping infant of his eldest sister, whilst watching by its cradle, he ran to seek some paper, and forthwith drew its portrait in red and black ink. The little incident revealed the artist in him, and it was found impossible to draw him from his bent. West might have been a greater painter had he not been injured by too early success: his fame, though great, was not purchased by study, trials and difficulties, and it has not been enduring.

Richard Wilson, when a mere child, indulged himself with tracing figures of men and animals on the walls of his father's house with a burnt stick. He first directed his attention to portrait painting; but when in Italy, calling one day at the house of Zucarelli, and growing weary with waiting, he began painting the scene on which his friend's chamber window looked. When Zucarelli arrived, he was so charmed with the picture that he asked if Wilson had not studied landscape, to which he replied that he had not. "Then I advise you," said the other, "to try; for you are sure of great success." Wilson adopted the advice, studied and worked hard, and became the first great English landscape painter.

Sir Joshua Reynolds, when a boy, forgot his lessons, and took pleasure only in drawing, for which his father was accustomed to rebuke him. The boy was destined for the profession of physic, but his strong instinct for art could not be repressed, and he became a painter. Gainsborough went sketching, when a schoolboy, in the woods of Sudbury, and at twelve he was a confirmed artist; he was a keen observer and a hard worker—no picturesque feature of any scene he had once looked upon escaping his diligent pencil. William Blake, a hosier's son, employed himself in drawing designs on the backs of his father's shop-bills, and making sketches on the counter. Edward Bird, when a child only three or four years old, would mount a chair and draw figures on the walls, which he called French and English soldiers. A box of colors was purchased for him, and his father, desirous of turning his love of art to account, put him apprentice to a maker of teatrays! Out of this trade he gradually raised himself, by study and labor, to the rank of a Royal Academician.

Hogarth, though a very dull boy at his lessons, took pleasure in making drawings of the letters of the alphabet, and his school exercises were more remarkable for the ornaments with which he embellished them, than for the matter of the exercises themselves. In the latter respect he was beaten by all the blockheads of the school, but in his adornments he stood alone. His father put him apprentice to a silversmith, where he learnt to draw, and also to engrave spoons and forks with crests and ciphers. From silver-chasing he went on to teach himself engraving on copper, principally griffins and monsters of heraldry, in the course of which practice he became ambitious to delineate the varieties of human character. The singular excellence which he reached in this art was