In the United States, where we have more land
than
people, it is not at all difficult for persons in good health to make
money. In this comparatively new field there are so many avenues of
success open, so many vocations which are not crowded, that any person
of either sex who is willing, at least for the time being, to engage in
any respectable occupation that offers, may find lucrative employment.
Those who really desire to attain an
independence,
have only to set their minds upon it, and adopt the proper means, as
they do in regard to any other object which they wish to accomplish,
and the thing is easily done. But however easy it may be found to make
money, I have no doubt many of my hearers will agree it is the most
difficult thing in the world to keep it. The road to wealth is, as Dr.
Franklin truly says, "as plain as the road to the mill." It consists
simply in expending less than we earn; that seems to be a very simple
problem. Mr. Micawber, one of those happy creations of the genial
Dickens, puts the case in a strong light when he says that to have an
income of twenty pounds per annum, and spend twenty pounds and
sixpence, is to be the most miserable of men; whereas, to have an
income of only twenty pounds, and spend but nineteen pounds and
sixpence is to be the happiest of mortals. Many of my readers may say,
"we understand this; this is economy, and we know economy is wealth; we
know we can't eat our cake and keep it also." Yet I beg to say that
perhaps more cases of failure arise from mistakes on this point than
almost any other. The fact is, many people think they understand
economy when they really do not.
True economy is misapprehended, and people go
through life without properly comprehending what that principle is. One
says, "I have an income of so much and here is my neighbor who has the
same; yet every year he gets something ahead and I fall short; why is
it? I know all about economy." He thinks he does, but he does not.
There are many who think that economy consists in saving cheese-parings
and candle-ends, in cutting off two pence from the laundress' bill and
doing all sorts of little, mean, dirty things. Economy is not meanness.
The misfortune is, also, that this class of persons let their economy
apply in only one direction. They fancy they are so wonderfully
economical in saving a half-penny where they ought to spend two pence,
that they think they can afford to squander in other directions. A few
years ago, before kerosene oil was discovered or thought of, one might
stop overnight at almost any farmer's house in the agricultural
districts and get a very good supper, but after supper he might attempt
to read in the sitting-room, and would find it impossible with the
inefficient light of one candle. The hostess, seeing his dilemma, would
say: "It is rather difficult to read here evenings; the proverb says
`you must have a ship at sea in order to be able to burn two candles at
once;' we never have an extra candle except on extra occasions."
These extra occasions occur, perhaps, twice a
year.
In this way the good woman saves five, six, or ten dollars in that
time; but the information which might be derived from having the extra
light would, of course, far outweigh a ton of candles.
But the trouble does not end here. Feeling
that she
is so economical in tallow candles, she thinks she can afford to go
frequently to the village and spend twenty or thirty dollars for
ribbons and furbelows, many of which are not necessary. This false
economy may frequently be seen in men of business, and in those
instances it often runs to writing-paper. You find good business men
who save all the old envelopes, and scraps, and would not tear a new
sheet of paper, if they could avoid it, for the world. This is all very
well; they may in this way save five or ten dollars a year, but being
so economical (only in note paper), they think they can afford to waste
time; to have expensive parties, and to drive their carriages. This is
an illustration of Dr. Franklin's "saving at the spigot and wasting at
the bung-hole;" "penny wise and pound foolish." Punch in
speaking of this "one idea" class of people says "they are like the man
who bought a penny herring for his family's dinner and then hired a
coach and four to take it home." I never knew a man to succeed by
practising this kind of economy.
True economy consists in always making the
income
exceed the out-go. Wear the old clothes a little longer if necessary;
dispense with the new pair of gloves; mend the old dress; live on
plainer food if need be; so that, under all circumstances, unless some
unforeseen accident occurs, there will be a margin in favor of the
income. A penny here, and a dollar there, placed at interest, goes on
accumulating, and in this way the desired result is attained. It
requires some training, perhaps, to accomplish this economy, but when
once used to it, you will find there is more satisfaction in rational
saving, than in irrational spending. Here is a recipe which I
recommend; I have found it to work an excellent cure for extravagance,
and especially for mistaken economy: When you find that you have no
surplus at the end of the year, and yet have a good income, I advise
you to take a few sheets of paper and form them into a book and mark
down every item of expenditure. Post it every day or week in two
columns, one headed "necessaries" or even "comforts," and the other
headed "luxuries," and you will find that the latter column will be
double, treble, and frequently ten times greater than the former. The
real comforts of life cost but a small portion of what most of us can
earn. Dr. Franklin says "it is the eyes of others and not our own eyes
which ruin us. If all the world were blind except myself I should not
care for fine clothes or furniture." It is the fear of what Mrs. Grundy
may say that keeps the noses of many worthy families to the grindstone.
In America many persons like to repeat "we are all free and equal," but
it is a great mistake in more senses than one.
That we are born "free and equal" is a
glorious
truth in one sense, yet we are not all born equally rich, and we never
shall be. One may say, "there is a man who has an income of fifty
thousand dollars per annum, while I have but one thousand dollars; I
knew that fellow when he was poor like myself, now he is rich and
thinks he is better than I am; I will show him that I am as good as he
is; I will go and buy a horse and buggy; no, I cannot do that, but I
will go and hire one and ride this afternoon on the same road that he
does, and thus prove to him that I am as good as he is."
My friend, you need not take that trouble; you
can
easily prove that you are "as good as he is;" you have only to behave
as well as he does; but you cannot make anybody believe that you are
rich as he is. Besides, if you put on these "airs," and waste your time
and spend your money, your poor wife will be obliged to scrub her
fingers off at home, and buy her tea two ounces at a time, and
everything else in proportion, in order that you may keep up
"appearances," and, after all, deceive nobody. On the other hand, Mrs.
Smith may say that her next-door neighbor married Johnson for his
money, and "everybody says so." She has a nice one thousand dollar
camel's hair shawl, and she will make Smith get her an imitation one,
and she will sit in a pew right next to her neighbor in church, in
order to prove that she is her equal.
My good woman, you will not get ahead in the
world,
if your vanity and envy thus take the lead. In this country, where we
believe the majority ought to rule, we ignore that principle in regard
to fashion, and let a handful of people, calling themselves the
aristocracy, run up a false standard of perfection, and in endeavoring
to rise to that standard, we constantly keep ourselves poor; all the
time digging away for the sake of outside appearances. How much wiser
to be a "law unto ourselves" and say, "we will regulate our out-go by
our income, and lay up something for a rainy day." People ought to be
as sensible on the subject of money-getting as on any other subject.
Like causes produces like effects. You cannot accumulate a fortune by
taking the road that leads to poverty. It needs no prophet to tell us
that those who live fully up to their means, without any thought of a
reverse in this life, can never attain a pecuniary independence.
Men and women accustomed to gratify every whim
and
caprice, will find it hard, at first, to cut down their various
unnecessary expenses, and will feel it a great self-denial to live in a
smaller house than they have been accustomed to, with less expensive
furniture, less company, less costly clothing, fewer servants, a less
number of balls, parties, theater-goings, carriage-ridings, pleasure
excursions, cigar-smokings, liquor-drinkings, and other extravagances;
but, after all, if they will try the plan of laying by a "nest-egg,"
or, in other words, a small sum of money, at interest or judiciously
invested in land, they will be surprised at the pleasure to be derived
from constantly adding to their little "pile," as well as from all the
economical habits which are engendered by this course.
The old suit of clothes, and the old bonnet
and
dress, will answer for another season; the Croton or spring water will
taste better than champagne; a cold bath and a brisk walk will prove
more exhilarating than a ride in the finest coach; a social chat, an
evening's reading in the family circle, or an hour's play of "hunt the
slipper" and "blind man's buff," will be far more pleasant than a fifty
or five hundred dollar party, when the reflection on the difference in
cost is indulged in by those who begin to know the pleasures of saving.
Thousands of men are kept poor, and tens of thousands are made so after
they have acquired quite sufficient to support them well through life,
in consequence of laying their plans of living on too broad a platform.
Some families expend twenty thousand dollars per annum, and some much
more, and would scarcely know how to live on less, while others secure
more solid enjoyment frequently on a twentieth part of that amount.
Prosperity is a more severe ordeal than adversity, especially sudden
prosperity. "Easy come, easy go," is an old and true proverb. A spirit
of pride and vanity, when permitted to have full sway, is the undying
canker-worm which gnaws the very vitals of a man's worldly possessions,
let them be small or great, hundreds or millions. Many persons, as they
begin to prosper, immediately expand their ideas and commence expending
for luxuries, until in a short time their expenses swallow up their
income, and they become ruined in their ridiculous attempts to keep up
appearances, and make a "sensation."
I know a gentleman of fortune who says, that
when he
first began to prosper, his wife would have a new and elegant sofa.
"That sofa," he says, "cost me thirty thousand dollars!" When the sofa
reached the house, it was found necessary to get chairs to match; then
side-boards, carpets and tables "to correspond" with them, and so on
through the entire stock of furniture; when at last it was found that
the house itself was quite too small and old-fashioned for the
furniture, and a new one was built to correspond with the new
purchases; "thus," added my friend, "summing up an outlay of thirty
thousand dollars, caused by that single sofa, and saddling on me, in
the shape of servants, equipage, and the necessary expenses attendant
upon keeping up a fine `establishment,' a yearly outlay of eleven
thousand dollars, and a tight pinch at that; whereas, ten years ago, we
lived with much more real comfort, because with much less care, on as
many hundreds. The truth is," he continued, "that sofa would have
brought me to inevitable bankruptcy, had not a most unexampled tide of
prosperity kept me above it, and had I not checked the natural desire
to `cut a dash.'"
The foundation of success in life is good
health;
that is the substratum of fortune; it is also the basis of happiness. A
person cannot accumulate a fortune very well when he is sick. He has no
ambition; no incentive; no force. Of course, there are those who have
bad health and cannot help it; you cannot expect that such persons can
accumulate wealth; but there are a great many in poor health who need
not be so.
If, then, sound health is the foundation of
success
and happiness in life, how important it is that we should study the
laws of health, which is but another expression for the laws of nature!
The closer we keep to the laws of nature, the nearer we are to good
health, and yet how many persons there are who pay no attention to
natural laws, but absolutely transgress them, even against their own
natural inclination. We ought to know that the "sin of ignorance" is
never winked at in regard to the violation of nature's laws; their
infraction always brings the penalty. A child may thrust its finger
into the flames without knowing it will burn, and so suffers,
repentance, even, will not stop the smart. Many of our ancestors knew
very little about the principle of ventilation. They did now know much
about oxygen, whatever other "gin" they might have been acquainted
with; and consequently, they built their houses with little
seven-by-nine feet bedrooms, and these good old pious Puritans would
lock themselves up in one of these cells, say their prayers and go to
bed. In the morning they would devoutly return thanks for the
"preservation of their lives," during the night, and nobody had better
reason to be thankful. Probably some big crack in the window, or in the
door, let in a little fresh air, and thus saved them.
Many persons knowingly violate the laws of
nature
against their better impulses, for the sake of fashion. For instance,
there is one thing that nothing living except a vile worm ever
naturally loved, and that is tobacco; yet how many persons there are
who deliberately train an unnatural appetite, and overcome this
implanted aversion for tobacco, to such a degree that they get to love
it. They have got hold of a poisonous, filthy weed, or rather that
takes a firm hold of them. Here are married men who run about spitting
tobacco juice on the carpet and floors, and sometimes even upon their
wives besides. They do not kick their wives out of doors like drunken
men, but their wives, I have no doubt, often wish they were outside of
the house. Another perilous feature is that this artificial appetite,
like jealousy, "grows by what it feeds on;" when you love that which is
unnatural, a stronger appetite is created for the hurtful thing than
the natural desire for what is harmless. There is an old proverb which
says that "habit is second nature," but an artificial habit is stronger
than nature. Take for instance, an old tobacco-chewer; his love for the
"quid" is stronger than his love for any particular kind of food. He
can give up roast beef easier than give up the weed.
Young lads regret that they are not men; they
would
like to go to bed boys and wake up men; and to accomplish this they
copy the bad habits of their seniors. Little Tommy and Johnny see their
fathers or uncles smoke a pipe, and they say, "If I could only do that,
I would be a man too; uncle John has gone out and left his pipe of
tobacco, let us try it." They take a match and light it, and then puff
away. "We will learn to smoke; do you like it Johnny?" That lad
dolefully replies: "Not very much; it tastes bitter;" by and by he
grows pale, but he persists and he soon offers up a sacrifice on the
altar of fashion; but the boys stick to it and persevere until at last
they conquer their natural appetites and become the victims of acquired
tastes.
I speak "by the book," for I have noticed its
effects on myself, having gone so far as to smoke ten or fifteen cigars
a day, although I have not used the weed during the last fourteen
years, and never shall again. The more a man smokes, the more he craves
smoking; the last cigar smoked simply excites the desire for another,
and so on incessantly.
Take the tobacco-chewer. In the morning, when
he
gets up, he puts a quid in his mouth and keeps it there all day, never
taking it out except to exchange it for a fresh one, or when he is
going to eat; oh! yes, at intervals during the day and evening, many a
chewer takes out the quid and holds it in his hand long enough to take
a drink, and then pop it goes back again. This simply proves that the
appetite for rum is even stronger than that for tobacco. When the
tobacco-chewer goes to your country seat and you show him your grapery
and fruit house, and the beauties of your garden, when you offer him
some fresh, ripe fruit, and say, "My friend, I have got here the most
delicious apples, and pears, and peaches, and apricots; I have imported
them from Spain, France and Italy--just see those luscious grapes;
there is nothing more delicious nor more healthy than ripe fruit, so
help yourself; I want to see you delight yourself with these things;"
he will roll the dear quid under his tongue and answer, "No, I thank
you, I have got tobacco in my mouth." His palate has become narcotized
by the noxious weed, and he has lost, in a great measure, the delicate
and enviable taste for fruits. This shows what expensive, useless and
injurious habits men will get into. I speak from experience. I have
smoked until I trembled like an aspen leaf, the blood rushed to my
head, and I had a palpitation of the heart which I thought was heart
disease, till I was almost killed with fright. When I consulted my
physician, he said "break off tobacco using." I was not only injuring
my health and spending a great deal of money, but I was setting a bad
example. I obeyed his counsel. No young man in the world ever looked so
beautiful, as he thought he did, behind a fifteen cent cigar or a
meerschaum!
These remarks apply with tenfold force to the
use of
intoxicating drinks. To make money, requires a clear brain. A man has
got to see that two and two make four; he must lay all his plans with
reflection and forethought, and closely examine all the details and the
ins and outs of business. As no man can succeed in business unless he
has a brain to enable him to lay his plans, and reason to guide him in
their execution, so, no matter how bountifully a man may be blessed
with intelligence, if the brain is muddled, and his judgment warped by
intoxicating drinks, it is impossible for him to carry on business
successfully. How many good opportunities have passed, never to return,
while a man was sipping a "social glass," with his friend! How many
foolish bargains have been made under the influence of the "nervine,"
which temporarily makes its victim think he is rich. How many important
chances have been put off until to-morrow, and then forever, because
the wine cup has thrown the system into a state of lassitude,
neutralizing the energies so essential to success in business. Verily,
"wine is a mocker." The use of intoxicating drinks as a beverage, is as
much an infatuation, as is the smoking of opium by the Chinese, and the
former is quite as destructive to the success of the business man as
the latter. It is an unmitigated evil, utterly indefensible in the
light of philosophy, religion or good sense. It is the parent of nearly
every other evil in our country.
Don't Mistake
Your
Vocation
The safest plan, and the one most sure of
success
for the young man starting in life, is to select the vocation which is
most congenial to his tastes. Parents and guardians are often quite too
negligent in regard to this. It is very common for a father to say, for
example: "I have five boys. I will make Billy a clergyman; John a
lawyer; Tom a doctor, and Dick a farmer." He then goes into town and
looks about to see what he will do with Sammy. He returns home and says
"Sammy, I see watch-making is a nice, genteel business; I think I will
make you a goldsmith." He does this, regardless of Sam's natural
inclinations, or genius.
We are all, no doubt, born for a wise purpose.
There
is as much diversity in our brains as in our countenances. Some are
born natural mechanics, while some have great aversion to machinery.
Let a dozen boys of ten years get together, and you will soon observe
two or three are "whittling" out some ingenious device; working with
locks or complicated machinery. When they were but five years old,
their father could find no toy to please them like a puzzle. They are
natural mechanics; but the other eight or nine boys have different
aptitudes. I belong to the latter class; I never had the slightest love
for mechanism; on the contrary, I have a sort of abhorrence for
complicated machinery. I never had ingenuity enough to whittle a cider
tap so it would not leak. I never could make a pen that I could write
with, or understand the principle of a steam engine. If a man was to
take such a boy as I was, and attempt to make a watchmaker of him, the
boy might, after an apprenticeship of five or seven years, be able to
take apart and put together a watch; but all through life he would be
working up hill and seizing every excuse for leaving his work and
idling away his time. Watchmaking is repulsive to him.
Unless a man enters upon the vocation intended
for
him by nature, and best suited to his peculiar genius, he cannot
succeed. I am glad to believe that the majority of persons do find
their right vocation. Yet we see many who have mistaken their calling,
from the blacksmith up (or down) to the clergyman. You will see, for
instance, that extraordinary linguist the "learned blacksmith," who
ought to have been a teacher of languages; and you may have seen
lawyers, doctors and clergymen who were better fitted by nature for the
anvil or the lapstone