Part 16

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.

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.

"Prudence, thou virtue of the mind, by which We do consult of all that's good or ill."

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.

It is difficult to define wherein prudence doth consist, inasmuch as the rules of prudence in general, like the laws of the stone tablet, are for the most part prohibitive. "Thou shalt not," is their characteristic formula. It is easier to state what is forbidden under certain circumstances than what is required. It is shown in practical every-day life by thoughtful actions on the thousand petty questions which are constantly claiming attention. It is hesitating and slow to believe what is not sanctioned by past experience, and prefers not to run any very great risks in testing new plans for gaining the great object of life, preferring the sure to the doubtful, even though the latter may seem to have many advantages. It recognizes that there is a necessity for a certain amount of caution in all the transactions of business; hence the old saying, "Prudent men lock up their motives, letting familiars have a key to their hearts as to their garden." It weighs long and carefully the reasons for or against any proposed line of conduct, and calls upon the will to act only in accordance with the result of such reasoning.

In nothing does prudence display itself more than in relation to the little affairs of life. There are those who in the confidence of superior capacities or attainments neglect the common maxims of life. But this is a fatal delusion, as nothing will supply the want of prudence in the ordinary vocations of business, no matter how superior the other qualities. Negligence and irregularity long continued will make knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible. The merchant may, indeed, win thousands by speculations; but the only sure way of attaining to fortune, place, or honor is by obedience to well-known laws of business prudence, which discountenance speculation unbased on substantial facts.

Such are the vicissitudes of human life that, whatever the calling may be, scarcely a day passes that does not call upon all to exercise this quality in some of the common every-day occurrences, as well as in the unexpected emergencies which fate is constantly presenting to us. The triumph of its long exercise is to be seen in those moments when to come at a wrong decision means disastrous defeat, the fatal overthrow of the hopes of a life-time. It by degrees forms for itself a standard of duty and propriety, accumulates rules and maxims of conduct, and materials for reflection and meditation.

The tongue of prudence knows when to speak and when to be silent. It is not cowardly; it dares to say all that need be said, but it does not tell all that it knows. It is careful what it speaks, when it speaks, and to whom it speaks. When you have need of a needle you move your fingers delicately with a wise caution. Use the same prudence with the inevitable affairs of life; give attention, and keep yourself from undue precipitation, otherwise it will fare hardly with you.

There is beauty in temperance like that which is portrayed in virtue and in truth. It is a close ally of both, and, like them, has that all-pervading essence and quality which chastens the feelings, invigorates the mind, and displays the perfection of the soul in the very aspect. Like water from the rill, rain from the cloud, or light from the heavenly bodies, the thought issues pure from within, refreshing, unsullied, and radiant. There is no grossness, no dross, no corruption, for temperance, when effectually realized, is full of loveliness and joy, and virtue and purity are the lineaments in which it lives. Temperance is a virtue without pride, and fortune without envy; the best guardian of youth and support of old age; the preceptor of reason as well as of religion, and physician of the soul as well as the body; the tutelar goddess of health and universal medicine of life.

Temperance keeps the senses clear and unembarrassed, and makes them seize the object with more keenness and satisfaction. It appears with life in the face and decorum in the person. It gives you the command of your head, secures you health, and preserves you in a condition for business. Temperance is a virtue which casts the truest luster upon the person it is lodged in, and has the most general influence upon all other particular virtues of any that the soul of man is capable of; indeed, so general is it that there is hardly any noble quality or endowment of the mind but must own temperance either for its parent or its nurse; it is the greatest strengthener and clearer of reason, and the best preparer of it for religion; it is the sister of prudence and the handmaid to devotion.

Pleasure has been aptly compared to a sea. Intemperance is a maelstrom situated in the very center of this great sea. Not one path alone leads to this gulf of woe; not one only current, as too many have supposed, hurries down this dark abyss, but all around, on every side, the waters tend downward. There are a thousand currents leading in. Some, it is true, are more rapid than others. Some rush in quickly and bear down all who ride upon their waters to quick and certain ruin. Others glide more slowly, but none the less surely, to the same end. The streams of intemperance are legions. The allurements that lead downward are equally numerous. Every appetite, lust, passion, and feeling holds out various allurements to intemperate indulgence. There is not a power of the mind, affection of the heart, nor desire of the body that may not dispose to some form of intemperance which may injure the physical being or paralyze the energies of the mind. All forms of intemperance are evil and destroy some function of mind or body—some member or faculty, the disease of which spreads inharmony through the whole. The dangers from this source are imminent and fearful, and spread on every hand.

Temperance conduces to health; indeed, it may be said that health can only be acquired or maintained by temperance. This is the law primary and essential which every youth should know, and know by heart. Bodily pains and aches tell of intemperance in some directions. Pain means penalty, and penalty means that its sufferer should reform. The most of our pains are occasioned by intemperance. This is the fruitful mother of nine-tenths of the diseases that flesh is heir to and the sins that the soul doth commit. We sin by excess of anger, lust, appetite, affection, love of gain, authority, or praise. Few, if any, are the sins that grow not out of intemperance in some form. Intemperance means excess. A thing is good as long as it is necessary. All beyond necessity, or what is necessary, is evil. Money is good; more than what is necessary to the ends of life is evil. Food is good; too much is evil. Light is good; too much will put out our eyes. Water is good; too much will destroy us. Heat is good; too much will burn us. The praise of men is good; too much will ruin us. The love of life is good; too much will make us miserable. Fear is good; too much hath torment. Prayer is good; too much cheats labor of its life and is evil. Sympathy is good; too much floods us with perpetual grief. Reason is good; too much pressed with labor it dethrones the mind and spreads ruin abroad. Any excess in the use or activity of a good thing is intemperance and, therefore, evil, and to be avoided.

Temperance as a virtue dwells in the heart. It consists in a rigid subjection of every inward feeling and power to the rule of right reason. He who would be thoroughly temperate must master himself. His passions must be his subjects obeying his will. From the heart he must be temperate. He must remember that the intemperance slope is an almost imperceptible one, and that he may be gliding down it when he dreams of naught but safety. He must remember, too, that the field of temperance is a broad one, covering the whole area of life. It is not simply against one form of appetite, one species of indulgence that he is to guard, but against all. There are other species of intemperate indulgence, of which we are all more or less guilty, than indulgence in drink. Indeed, the indulgence of appetite carries away more victims from the earth than does drunkenness, and spreads a wider devastation and a more general blight.