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Laugh and Live

<h3>CHAPTER XI</h3> <h4>SELF-EDUCATION BY GOOD READING</h4> The character of a man expresses itself by the books he reads. Every well-informed man since the invention of printing has been a close reader of a few books that stand out from among the many. We read of Lincoln devouring the few books he had, over and over again and studying from cover to cover and word for word the Webster's dictionary of his day. We know that Grant had his favorite volumes from which he drew inspiration and solace. These men made eternal friends of certain great thinkers and drank in their learning with all the fervor of their natures. <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> "A few good books, digested well, do feed The mind." </div> </div> "Feed the mind!" That's the idea—but how shall we feed it? The answer is easy—with something worth while—something that will inform and inspire. We can cram our minds to the point of indigestion with useless, frivolous information just as easily as we may cram our stomachs with certain foods that tear down rather than build up. The habit of reading the right sort of books should begin early in life and continue throughout our days. Good books are real ... and as we read we feel, hear, see and understand in the way the author did. If what is said appeals to our way of thinking a new world is unfolded to our vision filled to the brim with things we can think about and add to our stock of knowledge. While we are buried in its leaves we may live over the thoughts that the writer lived. For the time being he becomes as real and vital to us as the dearest friend we possess. Gradually, as the time passes by, he creeps into our affections until our lives would not be complete without the comradeship of his cherished book. Books that become our "pals" are not necessarily books of the so-called classical type. Little known volumes may prove to have enough thought stored away between their covers to keep us interested all our days. The great books will prove their worth in a short time no matter how poor the binding, how bad the type or how cheap the paper. These things are after all only the outward manifestations and though we like to see our friends dressed well yet we know that the clothes do not make character unless there is character there in the first place. And so it is with books. These little ungainly volumes which we purchase on the stands may be the classics of tomorrow ... who knows? We select our library carefully. No matter if we live in a tiny hall bedroom on the top floor of a boarding house we have a shelf somewhere with a few good books on it. Emerson's "Essays" can be had in one volume and are well worth having. No other American writer has been so inspiring, so invigorating as this thinker of Concord. One cannot read his essays without having a desire to get up and do. It is like a breath of fresh air ... a tonic ... a stiff morning walk. It stirs the mind to action and inspires us to lift ourselves out of the rut into which we have fallen. One returns to them time after time, each reading opening up new vistas of thought, new lines of mental development. <center> <ANTIMG src="images/image-10.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="463" alt="A Scene from "His Picture in the Papers"" title=""> </center> As a man's stomach is what he eats, a man's mind is what he reads. It goes without saying that no healthy, active mind could exist without the companionship of Shakespeare. Nowadays it is possible to secure the entire works of the immortal poet in one volume. There is a special Oxford University edition which can be had for a small sum. The type is large, the paper good and there are many notes to help one over the rocky places. There is no doubt of the truth of the saying that a man who reads Shakespeare consistently and with understanding needs no other education. Like the philosopher Emerson he boiled down the world's thoughts into terse sentences and one goes into a new universe when reading any of the plays. It is a good thing to learn parts of them by heart so that we can apply them to our own lives. They strengthen the mind ... their beauty lifts us into a great realism of splendid thought ... and they fill the heart with a longing to do something great. Such books should become steady companions through life. No matter where our duties call us we should see to it that we do not leave behind the thoughts of this master mind of Shakespeare. The very fact that we have them near us lifts us out of the monotony of nothing to do. Among the books about America for Americans perhaps Roosevelt's "Winning of the West" is among the best. Not only has he thrown the whole vigor of his interesting personality into the writing of it, but he has given us a vivid picture of the conquest of the States by the settlers. No man could read it without being thrilled at the dangers our forefathers faced ... at the great courage they possessed ... at their hardihood ... their bulldog tenacity. The reading of such a book is like going back over the years and living with them, sharing their troubles and their enthusiasms. The man who contemplates gathering a small library could not afford to do without the inspiration of what his countrymen have done for him. In choosing our books we must bear in mind one thing—let them be inspiring. Let them be of such a nature that when we read them we will feel like going out into the world to accomplish something big! That is probably the mission of great books—to inspire and uplift. The world's greatest men have been readers—would they have cared for books unless they were inspiring? It is said that when Napoleon was being taken to St. Helena he advised one of the officers never to stop reading. Most of the things worth while are at some time or other stored away in books by the thinkers. Every phase of history, every movement to better mankind and lift it above the drudgery of mere toil, every beautiful thought is to be found in them and the better the book the more will be found in it of these very things. When we have finished the day's work we can pull down a volume from the shelf and in a moment be lost in an entirely different world. The man who neglects to read surely misses the one best means of broadening his mind. All books of the better class furnish food for thought and are excellent tools for the man of initiative. To read means keeping in touch with the big visions. We cherish these dreams and make them real in plans of our own. Aspiration is behind the pages of every worth-while volume. It was the motive power which drove the author to produce it and it should become a part of the forces which drive us on to victory. Without such inspiration we grope as children in the dark. We are without a light to guide us on our way. Books by such men as Marden and Hubbard are great generators of the electricity of doing things. They have put into words those innermost emotions which are the instruments of success. They point out a way we may safely follow. They loan us inspiration which causes us to act for ourselves. They give us thoughts that are useful and practical which we never would have gained by virtue of our own reasoning power. They made it a life work to coin into phrases words that inspire. Out of their large experience came the logical sequences of cause and effect. Not to profit by their teachings is a crime against our own prospects—without them we lag behind. Instead of progressing we look on in wonder at what is going on in the world. Somehow we cannot connect ourselves with the big enterprises. And all because we failed to feed our minds properly. There is much to be gained both in pleasure and knowledge by reading historical novels, and the lives of great men. The books of Sir Walter Scott and James Fenimore Cooper are rated among the best in the world. Grant's autobiography and the personal stories of other famous Americans provide fascinating material with which to establish and fortify our test for good literature. The tales of modern American financiers is another field of absorbing interest. The man with small means can provide himself with a working library for a very little money. Books are cheap. The public library is always nearby and there is hardly a town of any size but what has one. When we purchase a book we should be sure to obtain the best edition and be careful that it is printed from good type and on clear paper. Books are likely to become warm friends. We should never purchase an abridged edition. Binding is not such an important factor, although we like to have our favorite books put up in a handsome fashion. With Shakespeare, Emerson, Roosevelt, Scott, Cooper, Marden and Hubbard one would have quite a representative collection for a start. It would be easy to expand the list into many more. Of course, those collecting a small library who have a specialty, will want books dealing with the subjects in which they are interested. However, every practical library includes books of inspirational character, and if one makes a study of the books written by great authors it will be found that all of them profited by the reading of books which caused them to think. The Bible causes us to think!—and no library is complete without it. <h3>CHAPTER XII</h3> <h4>PHYSICAL AND MENTAL PREPAREDNESS</h4> It is not the object of this chapter to deal with a set course of physical culture, but rather to emphasize the necessity of keeping our physical house in order. There are plenty of books on physical culture which can be relied upon and also any number of physical instructors who are able to advise and help along a set program. There are hundreds of places, institutions, clubs, Y.M.C.A.'s, and the like, which provide gymnasiums and every other facility for those who determine to build themselves up through consistent physical exercise. That is all very well to begin with, but afterward we must have some simple methods of our own which will not make it a hardship or a chore to keep ourselves in trim—a state of physical preparedness. It should become a part of our daily scheme to obey certain, simple rules which tend toward an automatic effort instead of a discipline, and we should persevere in these until they become fixed habits. It is no trouble at all to take exercise unconsciously, and we only arrive at this by turning into an exercise any of our ordinary physical actions during the day as we go along. For instance, we can sit down in a chair and in so doing can add a certain amount of exercise to the action itself—also in rising. With very little effort we can come into the habit of sitting correctly—posing the body as it should be—holding the shoulders in proper position—also the chin so that it becomes a hardship to sit improperly. All of this has to do with general physique. In walking we can go along with a spring, elasticity, and vigor of motion which forces a fine blood circulation throughout the entire system. We can stoop over in the act of picking up some object from the floor and at the same time make it a matter of physical exercise, and we may take a hat from the rack while standing away from it, thus stretching ourselves, as it were, into a little needful action. Putting on an overcoat, or any part of our clothing, may be done in such a way as to set the blood to racing through the body. Morning and night—upon getting up and upon retiring—there is every reason to make it a rule to exercise freely. The morning exercise wakes us up and sits us down finally at the breakfast table with a zest for the food set before us. The morning bath is an agency for good in this direction after we have given ourselves a good shake-up from head to foot. By the same token, exercises at night before retiring induces sound sleep and takes away the strain of the preceding day. A very successful system is that of exercising in bed. Instead of immediately jumping to the floor in the morning it is very inviting to go through some simple form of gymnastics in which the physical structure is brought into play. Physical exercise is something which can be carried to extremes. We can go at the work so intensely that we become muscle-bound and develop some structural enlargements that we do not need. This happens very often among athletes. The ordinary man should fight shy of such plans. Superfluous strength is only for those who have need of it. What we really want is strength enough to carry us through our daily rounds with comfort and a feeling of efficiency. In a sense we all live by our wits and these decline when not properly fed by our general physical organization. Prize fighters are not the longest lived people, nor are the professional athletes. Their calling requires extra building up which would be a positive handicap to the average man whose manner of life doesn't require this super-development. In other words, there are intemperate methods of exercising just as there are of eating and drinking. We may easily go too far. Again, we can sin just as greatly by not going far enough. There was a time when men of forty were as worn and old as men of sixty-five and seventy are today. As a matter of fact, nowadays a half-century mark is no longer a badge of senility when a man has kept himself fit and treated himself right. We all have friends who are pretty well along in years by virtue of their carefully planned physical training, plus their cheerful dispositions. They are as sprightly and companionable as though they were many years younger. We should come to know early in life what a large part good humor plays in physical fitness. In previous chapters hearty laughter was extolled as one of the very best of exercises. It is an organizer in itself and opens up the heart and lungs as nothing else will do. It makes the blood go galloping all through the system. It is one of the best automatic blood circulators in the business. Laughter takes the stress off of the mind, and whatever is ahead of us for the day that seems likely to become a burden is soon turned into an ordinary circumstance. We smile as we go about doing it. A friend once said to a banker: "How do you know when to lend money?" The banker replied: "I look a man in the eye and then I do or I don't." The friend said: "I would like to borrow ten thousand dollars—now!" "You shall have it, Sir," the banker replied. This meant that the man who asked for the loan was in a state of physical and mental preparedness. If he had gone into the banker's office looking like an animated tombstone he wouldn't have had much of a chance to borrow the ten thousand. It goes without saying that the open-faced, hearty fellow inspires confidence. There is nothing coming to the dried-up, sour chap, and that's what he usually gets. And what we get is largely a matter of our physical well being. A modern philosopher observed that "the blues are the product of bad livers"—and there is no doubt but that he was right. The problem of life is to fill our days with sunshine. In so doing we shall find that the "little graces" are those which will lend us the most help. Tiny favors extended, words of encouragement, courtesies of all sorts, unselfish work carried out in an open manner, true friendships and love, a hearty laugh, a sincere appreciation of the other fellow's struggle to keep his head above water, the conscientious carrying out of all tasks assigned us—these are our helpmates and they are the products of our physical and mental equipment. Through these we come into our knack of detecting friends among those who are the salt of the earth. It is impossible for the person who desires good health to obtain it, or having it, to retain it, without consistent effort. A watch will not run without the proper regulation of the mainspring. We must keep up our activities. We have taken the earth and are turning it into something to serve us—therefore the need of fine bodily preparedness. Nothing can take the place of achievement and it comes through physical and mental efficiency. The one must not be neglected for the other; both must be cultivated and developed alike in order that each may help the other. Happiness comes only to those who take care of themselves. It is the natural product of clean-mindedness. No pleasure can surpass that of a conscious feeling of our strength of character. It is an all important element in men who aspire to succeed. The man who rises in the morning from a healthy slumber and plunges into the bath after some vigorous exercise is prepared to undertake anything. His world seems fair, and though the sun may not be shining literally, it is to all intents and purposes. Thus, we go swinging along with a cheery smile, carrying the message of hope and joy to all those with whom we come in contact. Oh! it's fine to be physically and mentally fit! <h3>CHAPTER XIII</h3> <h4>SELF-INDULGENCE AND FAILURE</h4> The correct definition of self-indulgence is failure—because self-indulgence is comprised of an aggregation of vices, large and small, and failure is the logical sequence thereof. Even the habit of eating may be cultivated into a vice. Indeed, there are those who gorge without restraint, which in itself is unchaste and immoral. We've often seen them as, with napkin under foot or tucked under the collar, they eat their way through mountains of food and wash it down as they reach for more. No use to say how and what we feel when we attend such performances. It is all right to say "Look the Other Way," but it can't be done. It is human nature to gaze upon horror—sometimes in sympathy, but more often in amazement. Sometimes a well staged scene of gormandizing viewed from a seat in the second or third row center of a softly lighted, thick carpeted food emporium saves us the price of our own meal. We no longer hunger on our own account. Our appetite is appeased by proxy, so to speak, and we calmly fix our eyes on the "big show" and sigh for a baseball bat. No wonder a noted bachelor of medicine declares "People are what they eat!" The exclamation point is our own. We quite agree with our medical brother for we have seen people eat until we thought we would never be hungry again. But there is more to self-indulgence than the food specialist has to answer for, so we will be on our way. For instance, there is the spendthrift; surely he is entitled to a short stanza. We all know him. He goes on the theory that he has all the spending money in the world, and that long after he is dead those on whom he spent it will remember his generosity. Vain hope!—Whatever memory of him remains will be of a different kind. Those who have been bored by his gratuitous attentions will take up the threads of their existence where they left off when he drove them away from their usual haunts. No longer will they have to dodge down alleys and run up strange stairways in an effort to avoid his overtures. <center> <ANTIMG src="images/image-11.jpg" width-obs="399" height-obs="600" alt="Douglas Fairbanks in "The Good Bad-Man"" title=""> </center> When alive and in full operation he knew more about what was best for us than we could possibly think of knowing. Left to his own devices he would have us smoke his particular brands, drink his labels, eat his selections, wear his kind of a cravat, overcoat, cap, hat, shoes, and underwear. And to make his proposition sound business like he would willingly pay the bills! In this little amusement we are supposed to play the part of receiver and praise his generosity. Whatever may be our verdict on this chap we must keep in mind that his inordinate desire to waste his substance was no less than a vice if for no other reason than its example upon others; it is just as bad to be a "receiver" as it is to be a spendthrift. If we cannot build up a reputation for generosity without becoming ostentatious we might better take lessons in refinement from someone "to the manor born." There is no desire to single out and set down by name and number every sort of self-indulgence. Excesses of any kind are indulgences, and it is easy to fall into them if we have not built up our stamina to resist. Our failures are usually traceable to ourselves. No matter what excuses may be offered in our behalf we know in our own minds that we are to blame. Somewhere along the line of our endeavors we faltered—then we fell. Our conservatism reinforced by our strength of character finally gave way at a given point and put the whole plant out of business. Our system of inspection had become cursory instead of painstaking. Everything had been running along so smoothly we forgot that everything must wear out in time if it isn't looked after properly. A previous chapter entitled, "Taking Stock of Ourselves," has a specific bearing upon the subject in hand. It emphasizes the necessity of taking stock of ourselves early in life in order that we may know our weak spots and take immediate steps to dig them out by the roots and replace them with "hardy perennials" which thrive on and on unto the last day. And that reminds us that it is well to take stock of ourselves every little while. Even "hardy perennials" have to be looked after—the ground kept fertile and watered against the draughts of forgetfulness and neglect. And so it must be with our mental and physical processes in order that each day of our lives we may go forth with renewed forcefulness—with every atom of character in full working order. Having started off on the right foot, we are less likely to have trouble with our higher resolves during the lean and hungry years of our youth when we go plunging headlong toward the goal of our ambitions. Usually it is not until we come into "Easy Street" that we find that we dropped something somewhere along the line which we must replace at once or we will be laid up for repairs. But lo and behold! "Easy Street" is fair to look upon. It dazzles the eye—it takes hold of the sensibilities. Everybody wears "Sunday clothes" on this street and seems to be superlatively happy. Surely it wouldn't hurt to linger awhile and see what is going on. Why, this is the most talked about street in the world! Some of the people we have dealt with have told us about it. They said it was the only street for a man of means, for there could be found the very things for which we strive in life. They told us that the people we would meet represented the higher order of intelligence, brainy, alert, accomplished—a grand thoroughfare for those who would know life in the fullness thereof. Now it is a fact that "Easy Street" may be crossed and recrossed in safety every day of our lives if we do not tarry. Financial competence might permit of it, but competent efficiency demands that we trot along—keep moving—get away before we settle down into its ways. The action we need is not along this brilliant lane. But suppose we do take a chance just to test the serene confidence which we think is so safely nailed down within us. The very thought of it makes the "caution bell" tinkle in our ears—but caution is a species of cowardice, after all, we say—a man of courage may dare anything once. And just at the moment we waver who comes along but our old friend Self-indulgence!—the well dressed, carefree fellow who once told us all about "Easy Street" and invited us to look in on him sometime. Nothing would please him more than to show us the whole works—and here he is shaking us by the hand and pulling us along—for he is an affable fellow and will not take "no" for an answer. Our struggle is feeble—a huge chunk of our strength of character falls off into space then and there. Even at the gilded entrance we try again to beg off—to slip away—but Self-indulgence will not hear. So together we go through the portals leading into a grandeur we had never known—beyond our experience and power to believe. This is likely to become the turning point in our career. Bill Nye once said "When we start down hill we usually find everything greased for the occasion." We might add—"except the bumps!" <h3>CHAPTER XIV</h3> <h4>LIVING BEYOND OUR MEANS</h4> Living beyond our means is a big subject that must be treated broadly, for circumstances alter cases. There is a sane way to look at every problem, and the matter of living beyond our means is one of the major problems we have to face. If every man was alike and every avocation in life was on a parity, it would be possible to dispose of this subject in a paragraph. But men are not alike. What one could do successfully might easily baffle another. Therefore, it seems advisable to consider the subject by looking into its depths. To most people debt is terrifying. To some it means nothing—and thus we have individual temperament as an angle from which to consider. Living beyond our ability to pay means going into debt via the shortest route. Getting out of debt means a revision of our code to the extent of ceasing to live beyond our means and saving something with which to pay off what we owe. Some men can do this successfully—others fail while seemingly trying their best to succeed—and still others do nothing to stem the tide. With these it is a matter of how the tide serves. If favoring winds should drive them to opulence they would more than likely pay up, particularly those imbued with sufficient personal honor to "make good." Such are the exigencies of life, we may as well concede that a vast majority at some time or other find it necessary to owe more than they can readily pay. Emergencies arise which force us into expenses that require credit, and if we have so ordered our lives that when the pinch comes we have no credit established the fact that we pay out our last dollar and go hungry to bed does not bring us much sympathy. Thus it would seem that to be able to say: "I pay as I go," or, "I owe no man a dollar," or, "I never live beyond my means" is not much of a boast, when, after a death in the family, or other unforeseen circumstances, we find ourselves broke and nowhere to turn for accommodation. It has been aptly said that "People can save themselves to death." In other words, one may develop the saving habit to such an extent that "Laugh and Live" can find no room beside us on the perch of our existence. We must admit that the systematic saver of pennies misses a lot as he goes along, and, with time, degenerates into a sort of "Kill Joy." In the matter of regulating his family to his way of thinking he usually has an uphill job. Sons leave home as soon as they can; daughters marry and breathe a sigh of relief, leaving mother behind to slave on in order that the hoard may grow. While all of this is true it only represents extreme cases, therefore it should not be construed that this chapter is launched against the habit of saving. Rather, its purpose is to suggest the thought of not "over-saving" at the expense of personal welfare. Our best plan would be to save in reason, not forgetting that life is here to enjoy as we go along. Then, too, we must have a credit rating among our fellow mortals, just the same as a business person must have credit rating among financial institutions. <center> <ANTIMG src="images/image-12.jpg" width-obs="382" height-obs="600" alt="Squaring Things With Sister—From "The Habit of Happiness"" title=""> </center> Credit in business is worth more than money because it allows for expansion whereas money in the bank is only good as far as it goes. Many a merchant who bought and sold for cash all his life found when he came to enlarge his business that one thing was lacking—credit. The fact that he had always paid cash threw a doubt upon his financial condition when he proposed to borrow. He had neglected to build up a credit as he went along. The business world only knew him as a man who paid cash and exacted cash. Taken at his fullest inventory he had "scalped" a living out of the world for which he had done but little to make happier or better. One calamity might easily scuttle his prospects forever—for instance, a fire, or a bank failure. And without credit it would be difficult to start over again. By all means we must save something for the "rainy day" as we go along—and our savings can be made up of other things than actual cash in bank. One item of our savings is the habit of keeping up our appearances. Living beyond our means does not incorporate the thought that, in order to save every possible cent, we should become slipshod and shabby. Carelessness in dress takes away from our rating as nothing else will for it has to do with first impressions of those with whom we come in contact. Gentility pays dividends of the highest order, being, as it is, a badge of character. Neatness bespeaks character, and it is just as cheap in dollars and cents to keep ourselves respectably clothed as to indulge in shoddy apparel under the delusion that we have saved money on the purchase price. Good clothing, costing more at the start, lasts long and looks well as long as it lasts. Shoddy apparel never is anything else but shoddy, and well might it proclaim the shoddy man. When we throw away our opportunity to present a genteel appearance, just for the sake of the bank roll, we doom ourselves to defeat in the pursuit of knowledge. We cannot get all we want to know by the mere reading of books. We must mingle with people; we must interchange thought that we may crystallize what we know into practical knowledge so it can be made into tools to work with. While a man of brains is welcome everywhere the matter of his appearance has a lot to do with how he is received and with whom he may fraternize. "Isn't it a pity," we hear people say, "that, with all his brains, he hasn't sense enough to make himself presentable?" But the worst phase of the situation is that the unkempt man sooner or later loses faith in himself and either ceases to hoard at the expense of his gentility or he gives up his opportunity to mingle with others and lapses into habits consistent with miserly thoughts. The phrase "a happy medium" is well known and decidedly applicable to the subject of saving as we go along so that we may avert the sorrows which follow in the wake of living beyond our means. It suggests a desirable middle course which permits us to adopt a sane policy, rather than flying to an extreme. It cannot be said that we are living beyond our means when by reason of our association with men of affairs we need to spend more money and thereby save less in preparing ourselves for the larger opportunities which will naturally follow. Young men often go through college on their "uppers," so to speak. There is not a cent which they could honestly save as they went along without cheating themselves. The point is that their situations in life force them to spend rather than to save money. But in so doing the real saving was in the spending thereof. They enlarged their knowledge and decreased their bank accounts for the time being. What man parts with in an emergency is no license, however, for him to fall back into profligacy. Never should a man entirely lose the idea of putting something by. The college boy in this case has simply invested his money in an education instead of a bank account. Once on the highroad of life with a plan of action well defined and a regular income the habit of putting money away should become a fixed procedure. In no other way do we accumulate except by investment, and investment means putting away money at interest or in some project which promises better returns. If we were to interview a thousand men on the subject of saving and draw upon their experiences we would find that by investing money at interest we pursue the safest course, far safer, in fact, than the seeking of outside investments that promise greater returns. The latter invites the mind away from the regular avocation and educates it in time to take chances that are likely to turn into setbacks. The mind, instead of applying itself to the duty of making the most out of its regular employment, allows its interest to become scattered over too broad a field. It is not within the province of all men to become wealthy and, after all, wealth is not the only desideratum; the happiest of mortals are found in the middle walks of life and not in the extremes. The struggle should be to escape the life which saps our strength, keeps our nerves on edge and drives us away from the green pastures. <h3>CHAPTER XV</h3> <h4>INITIATIVE AND SELF-RELIANCE</h4> The late Elbert Hubbard defined the man with initiative as the one who did the right thing at the right time without being told. At this point it may be definitely stated that such a man would naturally be self-reliant. Such a man would not lean on his friends. He would stand up with them.... He would be found fighting his own battles without crying for help. Once a cub reporter was ordered by his city editor to go and interview a certain man. After an awkward pause the youngster inquired: "Where can I find him?" Smiling scornfully into his eyes the city editor replied: "Wherever he is." This would seem to have been the start and finish of this youngster's newspaper career, but quite the reverse was true. He took the lesson well to heart, thus starting himself on the road to self-reliance. If he had repeated the offense it is likely he would have lost his job and also his nerve—thereby spoiling his chances for a successful career. The fact that he did not, but went on and made of himself a famous newspaper man, proves that he lost no time in developing initiative and self-reliance. There is no questioning the vast importance these two words mean to all of us. Many a man who did not grasp the significance of initiative became a "leaner" for the rest of his life. Many a man also missed his chances by doing just as he was told and nothing more. His work ended there. In due course it is inevitable that such a man should become part of the great army of discontented ne'er-do-wells who help to block the pavements in front of the loafing places. Hesitation, vacillation and growing diffidence take the place of self-reliance. He falls to the bottom like a stone. And there he rests—a drag anchor in the mire. His job gets the best of him because he lacks initiative. Once stranded he becomes an arrant coward—afraid of his own shadow. <center> <ANTIMG src="images/image-13.jpg" width-obs="388" height-obs="600" alt="A Scene from "In Again—Out Again"" title=""> </center> We must make our own opportunities otherwise we are children of circumstance. What becomes of us is a matter of guesswork. We have no hand in compelling our own future. Diffidence is a species of cowardice. It causes a man's courage to ooze out at his toes faster than it comes into his heart. Such men often have big ideas, but having no confidence in themselves they lack the power to compel confidence in others. When they go into the presence of a man of personality they lose their self-confidence and all of the pent-up courage which drove them forward flies out at the window. Their weakness multiplies with each failure until finally "the jig is up"—their impotency is complete. Very largely those who have big ideas to present expect to be taken in on them and to be given an opportunity to succeed along with their scheme. When a man becomes so unfortunate as to be unable through diffidence to explain himself, his big idea goes into the waste basket and with it all of the hopes he has built upon it. Another nail has been driven into his casket of failures. To such a man, all pity, but we will not allow him to escape until we have given him a pat on the back and pointed out the right road to travel. We mustn't preach to him or undertake to force him to do anything, but we will at least give him a helping hand and show him that there is a royal road to his goal. This man needs first of all to build upon his physique. Perhaps he has a bad stomach, and likewise bad teeth. Exercise—regular exercise, should be the first thing on his program. Fresh air, long walks, deep breathing, dumb bells, boxing, rowing, skating in season—and wholesome companionship day by day. In the long run boxing will become his most efficient exercise. When a man can take a blow between the eyes and come back for more he has begun to fortify his own combativeness. That is what he needs in life's battles—the nerve to come back for more after a slam on the jaw that would lay another man low. And when it's all said and done and the exercise game has become a feature of his day's work, he must settle down to good plain food and plenty of sleep. There is nothing in all the world like these things combined for the upbuilding and upholding of health and courage. Our success is a matter of our courage. A man who can steel himself to be knocked down and get up immediately afterwards and hand the other fellow a ripping punch has added to his own "pep." All courage is of the same cloth, whether physical, moral or spiritual. To build upon one is to build up the others—the human system being constructed on such a basis that if one part is affected all the rest follow suit. A man who isn't afraid of a physical combat will readily match his wits with his fellow man. Physical training is therefore all important to initiative and self-reliance. Our natural aim is to make for ourselves a true personality that does not know defeat. When we come to an obstacle we must be able to hurdle it. It is all very well to say that the longest way around is the shortest way across, but it doesn't sound like initiative and self-reliance. There is one thing about men who rely upon themselves—they make no excuses, nor do they puff up over victory. Posing for applause is as distasteful to them as standing for abuse. All they ask is a square deal and the confidence of their associates. If they fall down on a proposition they get up and go at it again until success crowns their efforts. Such men have a way of turning defeat into victory. How immeasurably inferior to such a spirit is the fellow who whines and moans at every evil twist of fortune. He has no confidence in himself and nothing else to do except confide his woes to all who will listen to his cowardly story of defeat. Such men are least useful in the important work of this world. They are the humdrum hirelings—the dumb followers. The pitiful part of it all is that they could have succeeded had they but taken stock of themselves when the taking was good. But while there is life there is hope—likewise a chance. It is up to us. One of the startling things about men of initiative is the way they come forward in times of trouble. We don't have to point to Andrew Jackson in the War of 1812. We can look around us. Take, for example, a great fire. Haven't we often read of the brave fireman who sprang forward and by doing the right thing instantly, saved a multitude of lives? Well, such a man is possessed of self-reliance. He is trained for the hazardous life he leads. When the emergency arose he was ready in a jiffy to do the work expected of him. It is safe to say that without training such men would have botched the job and instead of being praised to the skies would have sunk into oblivion under the heap of public scorn. Sometimes it happens that a man accidentally becomes a hero, but it was no accident that he was able to become one. He must have had initiative—he must have had self-reliance. Archibald C. Butt was such a man. He went down on the Titanic. The last act of his life was to help women and children into the boats and calm their minds as they were lowered away. Astor was of the same metal—both sublimely oblivious to the terrible fate which hung over them. Here was initiative and self-reliance in its highest form. And this sort of man is everywhere. The car in which we ride to work every morning contains one or more of them. Let something happen and we will see them spring forward with a line of action already formed. At their word of command we automatically obey—and then when the worst is over a kindly voice reassures us and we go on our way rejoicing. What would the world do without these men? History is filled with the tales of heroes and heroines. And for every Joan of Arc there are thousands upon thousands who have done heroic things without a word of praise. Moreover, the really brave soul declines all ovation. No real hero claims reward. To have done the right thing at the right time is reward in itself. This quality of self-strength and self-dependence is not confined to any race of people, but in nations where personal liberty survives initiative is at its best. Somehow, whenever the emergency, the man comes forth to do and dare. The great world war, still raging as these lines are penned, has furnished untold thousands of examples of courageous action—-enough to last until the end of human affairs, but they will go on and on in multiplied form, each day's score superseding those of the day before. It would be bully to know that we are doing our share in safeguarding the supply of Initiative and Self-reliance needed in this world. We must keep moving. The fellow who gets in a rut through lack of initiative finds that with advancing years it becomes harder and harder to get out of it, so that the best plan is to make the move now while there is time to succeed. When we come to think of it, there are plenty of positions in the world for the right man, and if we have something to say for ourselves that lends credit to our ability we stand a chance for the job. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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