Part 22 (2/2)

I repeat, this is no temperance lecture. I know perfectly well that some of the strongest men in business and politics and literary life in this country take wine occasionally at the dinner-table and elsewhere. Nor are they to be condemned for it. But this paper is meant to contain vital suggestions to _young men_ with life's possibilities and difficulties before them.

It is so entirely uncertain whether you have the will in you to keep your hands very firmly on the reins of the wild horses of habit. It is so utterly unknown to you whether you may not have inherited from an ancestor, even very remote, an inflammable blood which, once touched by stimulant, is ever after on fire.

You risk too much, and you risk it needlessly. My earnest advice is not to try it. I will leave to the doctors the description of its effect on nerve and brain, and to common observation the universal testimony to the peculiar blurring of judgment which stimulant of any kind usually produces. Besides, it is a very bad thing for a young man to get a reputation for.

I have concluded, after very careful observation, that there is a mighty change being wrought in this habit, and that a great majority of the young men who are now the masters of affairs are abstainers. In short, drinking will soon be out of style, and very bad form.

Consider these ill.u.s.trations: I know a young man who is just forty years of age and who is practically the head of one of the greatest business inst.i.tutions in the world. He has worked his way to that position by ability, character, and untiring industry, from the very humblest position in his company's service. He is a total abstainer.

I know another, also just forty, who is president of one of the largest banks in America. When I first knew him, very many years ago, he occupied the position of cas.h.i.+er in a comparatively obscure financial house. Merit alone has placed him where he is now. He had no friends when he began, no ”influence,” hardly an acquaintance. But he had _himself_, clear brained and steady pulsed--and that was enough.

He, too, does not touch stimulants of any kind.

Or, to get out of that cla.s.s of occupations--one of the most successful political ”bosses” in this country, a man who makes politics his profession, and who, just past forty, is in control of the political machine of one of our great cities, rose to that position, by ability alone, from the occupation of a street-car driver. He also is a total abstainer.

Not only do any of these three young men not drink--also they neither smoke nor swear. And they are types of twentieth century success. The ”stein-on-the-table-and-a-good-song-ringing-clear” kind of man is out of date.

You see, so nerve-consuming are all the activities of modern life that only the very highest types of effectiveness succeed. Brain of ice, hand of steel, heart of fire, clear vision, and cold, steady grasp of the lever and masterful, and yet a pa.s.sionate relentlessness--these are necessary. Stimulants destroy effectiveness; that is the trouble with them. And you need every ounce of your power. Do not let the people who talk ”moderation” to you persuade you otherwise. We find many such in what is called ”society,” where the taking of wine moderately is universal.

I repeat that you cannot tell what your powers of resistance are.

Unfortunately, many of the world's n.o.blest characters have had nerves so finely wrought and brain so vivid that a single drop of stimulant started a perfect conflagration within them. One of the ablest men this country has ever known, when questioned by a friend as to what had been the greatest pleasure of his life, said: ”The greatest 'pleasure' of my life is the delirium of intoxication”; and then he went on to say how sure he was that if the fires of desire had never been lighted in his blood he would have done better work.

All of us can recall such examples in our own experience. Don't risk it, therefore, young man. Why take the chance? for even if you discover no taste for it, you will find that there is nothing in it, after all. Why this hazard of your powers, just to find out whether you can resist? It is a one-sided gamble, is it not? Even fools refuse to play when they know that the dice may be loaded.

Don't think that you have got to be a great public man, or a big politician, or a celebrated scientist, or distinguished in any line, before these practical truths apply to you. You must build your whole life upon them from the very beginning. For example, I know a man who for several years has been exercising ever-increasing power in his State. He selects his lieutenants with greatest possible care, consulting with trained advisers about the qualifications of each man to whom any political work is to be trusted.

Very well. The first question asked always is, ”Does he drink?” If he does, that fact strikes a black line through his name. He is no longer considered, no matter how capable and energetic he may be otherwise.

For, ordinarily, another man just as effective can be found who does not have this defect.

This entire chapter could be taken up with these instances; and the increasing number of them, the remarks I have quoted of that master of worldly wisdom at the White House reception, the observation of the great politician about the strong man of his party in another state, fairly justify, I think, a suggestion to young men that as a practical, worldly, and business matter they had better use no stimulants, either alcoholic or others, for others are just as bad, or worse, than the former. Indeed, alcohol and other various forms of wines and other like stimulants have had a disproportionate amount of abuse heaped upon them. Let the young man look out for all kinds of stimulants.

Weariness, exhaustion even, is no excuse. If you are tired, take a rest. If your natural energy is not equal to your task, take a lesser task. There is nothing more melancholy than the spectacle of men, young or old, attempting things out of proportion to themselves. It is hard to gage what is beyond one's natural powers, it is true. But if you feel the need of stimulants to keep you up to the level of your work, that is at least one unfailing test of your limitations. I must repeat, for the third time, that all of this advice--no, let us say suggestion--is made only as a matter of practical help to _young_ men trying to get on in the world.

It is the mere business side of the question at which we are looking now, for it is business itself that is working this change. People do not want a lawyer whose brain is not clear, a doctor, dealing with life and death, whose perceptions are not steady and natural. People refuse to ride on trains hauled by engineers who may be drinking, and so on. It is all a matter of cold-blooded business.

The conditions and requirements of modern society are coming to demand greater and greater sobriety from those in responsible places, no matter whether at the head of a party or a railway train. The spiritual phase, the medical view, the moral, social, and economic sides of the question I would not, under any circ.u.mstances, a.s.sume to deal with. On all these there are various views, none of which would I undertake to weigh or judge.

And excessive talking! Don't indulge in that either. Politicians are not the only ones who think interminable talk an indication of weakness. I knew a liveryman who was also a great horse-trader. Said he: ”I shy clear across the road when a tonguey man tries to deal with me.”

Of course, reserve in speech, particularly in conversation, is so ancient and favorite a subject of the giver of advice that it is now commonplace. Literature is full of it. Shakespeare nearly reaches the crest of it in the advice Polonius gave to his son. But here, as always, the very climax is the Bible.

”Let your communication be Yea, yea; Nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil.”

This is not advice to taciturnity. It is not a suggestion that you should be stolid and wooden in manner and speech. The reason of it is to prevent you from making mistakes or betraying yourself by foolish and unnecessary utterance. My suggestion to young men that they practise reserve in speech is merely a practical and almost a commercial matter. Do not be ”a man full of talk,” as Zophar cuttingly puts it.

There is a loss of authority that comes from incessant talking. There is a surrender of dignity, which is one of the most influential things in man's att.i.tude toward and in connection with his fellows. Silence, or rather reserve, gives a kind of emphasis to what you do. To a great many, also, there is an index of your character in the quant.i.ty of your speech. It is so refres.h.i.+ng to meet a man from whom you draw the feeling that he is as deep and as full as the seven seas.

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