CHARACTER

THE crown and glory of life is character. It is the noblest possession of a man, constituting a rank in itself, and an estate in the on general good-will; dignifying every station, and exalting every position in society. It exercises a greater power than wealth, and secures all the honor without the jealousies of fame. It carries with it an influence which always tells; for it is the result of proved honor, rectitude and consistency,—qualities which, perhaps more than any other, command the general confidence and respect of mankind.

Character is human nature in its best form. It is moral order embodied in the individual. Men of character are not only the conscience of society, but in every well-governed state they are its lest motive power; for it is moral qualities, in the main, which rule the world. Even in war, Napoleon said, the moral is to the physical as ten to one. The strength, the industry, and the civilization of nations, all depend upon individual character; and the very foundation of civil authority rest upon it. Laws and institutions are but its outgrowth. In the just balance of nature, individuals, and nations, and races will obtain just so much as they deserve, and no more. And as effect finds its cause, so surely does quality of character amongst a people produce its benefiting results.

Though a man have comparatively little culture, slender abilities, and but small wealth, yet, if his character be of sterling worth, he will always command an influence, whether it be in the workshop, the counting-house, the mart, or the senate. You may admire men of intellect; but something more is necessary before you will trust them. We sometimes ask the assistance of men of genius, but we prefer to follow the guidance of men of character. Sidney Smith said of Francis Homer, a member of the English House of Commons, that “the Ten Commandments were stamped upon his countenance.” his history is calculated to inspire every right-minded youth. He died at the age of thirty-eight, possessed of greater public influence than any other private man in England, and admired, beloved, trusted and deplored by all, except the heartless or the base. No greater homage was ever paid in parliament to any deceased member. Now let every young man ask—How was this attained? By rank? He was the son of an Edinburgh merchant. By wealth? Neither he nor any of his relations, ever had a superfluous sixpence. By office? He held but one, and only for a few years, of no influence, and with very little pay. By talents? His were not splendid, and he had no genius. Cautious and slow, his only ambition was to be right. By eloquence? He spoke in calm, good taste, without any of the oratory that either terrifies or seduces. By any fascination of manner? His was only correct and agreeable. By what, then, was it? Merely by sense, industry, good principles, and a good heart—qualities which no well-constituted mind need ever despair of attaining. It was the, force of his character that raised him, and this character not impressed upon him by nature, but formed out of no peculiarly fine elements by himself.

Franklin, also, attributed his success as a public man, not to his talents or his powers of speaking—for these were but moderate—but to his known integrity of character. “Hence, it was,” he says, “that I had so much weight with my fellow citizens. I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my point.” Character creates confidence in men in every station of life. It was said of the first Emperor Alexander of Russia, that his personal character was equivalent to a constitution. During the wars of the Fronde, Montaigne was the only man among the French gentry who kept his castle gates unbarred; and it was said of him, that his personal character was worth more to him than a regiment of horse.

That character is power is true in a much higher sense than that knowledge is power. Mind without heart, intelligence without conduct, cleverness without goodness, are powers in their way, but they may be powers only for mischief.  We may be instructed or amused by them, but it is sometimes as difficult to admire them as it would be to admire the dexterity of a pickpocket or the horsemanship of a highwayman.

Truthfulness, integrity and goodness,—qualities that hang not on any man’s breath,—form the essence of manly character, or, as one of our old writers has it, “that inbred loyalty unto virtue which can serve her without a livery.” He who possesses these qualities, united with strength of purpose, carries with him a power which is irresistible. He is strong to do good, strong to resist evil, and strong to bear up under difficulty and misfortune. When Stephen of Coloma fell into the hands of his base assailants, and they asked him, in derision, “Where is now your fortress?” “Here,” was his bold reply, placing his hand upon his heart. It is in misfortune that the character of the upright man shines forth with the greatest luster; and, when all else fails, he takes stand upon his integrity and his courage.

Every man is bound to aim at the possession of a good character, as one of the highest objects of his life. The 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 motive. It is well to have a high standard of life, even though we may not be able altogether to realize it. “The youth,” says Disraeli, “who does not look up will look down; and the spirit that does not soar is destined perhaps to grovel.” He who has a high standard of living and thinking will certainly do better than he who has none at all. “Pluck at a gown of gold,” says the Scotch proverb, “and you may get a sleeve o’t.” Whoever tries for the highest results can not fail to reach a point far in advance of that from which he started; and though the end accomplished may fall short of that proposed, still, the very effort to rise, of itself can not fail to prove permanently beneficial.

There are many counterfeits of character, but the genuine article is difficult to be mistaken. Some, knowing its money value, would as slime its disguise for the purpose of imposing upon the unwary. Colonel Charteris said to a man distinguished for his honesty, “I would give a thousand pounds for your good name.” “Why?” “Because I could make ten thousand by it,” was the rogue’s reply.

Integrity in word and deed is the backbone of character; and loyal adherence to veracity its most prominent characteristic. The groundwork of all manly character is veracity. That virtue lies at the foundation of everything solid. How common it is to hear parents say, “I have confidence in my child so long as he speaks the truth. He may have many faults, but I know he will not deceive me.” It is a lawful and just ground to build upon. And that is a beautiful confidence. Whatever errors temptation may betray a child into, so long as brave open truth remains, there is something to depend on; —there is another ground—there is substance at the center. Men of the world feel so about one another. They can tolerate and forbear so long as their erring brother is true. Ordinary commerce can hardly proceed a step without a good measure of it. If we can not believe what others say to us, we can not act at all. Truth is common interest. When we defend it, we defend the basis of all social order. When we vindicate it, we vindicate our own foot-hold. When we plead for it, it is like pleading for the air of health we breathe. When you undertake to benefit a lying man, it is like putting your foot into the mire.

There is truthfulness in action as well as in words, which is essential to uprightness of character. A man must really be what he seems or purposes to be. Always endeavor to be really what you would wish to appear. Every man who respects himself and values the respect of others, will carry out this maxim in act : — doing honestly what he proposes to do — putting the highest character into his work, scamping nothing, but priding himself upon his integrity and conscientiousness. Men whose acts are at direct variance with their words, command no respect, and what they say has but little weight; even truths, when uttered by them, seem to come blasted from their lips.

The true character acts rightly, whether in secret or in the sight of men. That boy was well trained who, when asked why he did not pocket some pears, for nobody was there to see him, replied, “Yes, there was: I was there to see myself; and I don’t intend ever to see myself do a dishonest thing.” This is a simple but not inappropriate illustration of principle, or conscience, dominating in the character, and exercising a noble protectorate over it; not merely a passive influence, but an active power, regulating the life.  Such a principle goes on moulding the character hourly and daily, growing with a force that operates every moment. Without this dominating influence, character has no protection, but is constantly liable to fall away before temptation; and every such temptation succumbed to, every act of meanness or dishonesty, however slight, causes self-degradation. It matters not whether the act be successful or not, discovered or concealed, the man is no longer the same, but another person; and he is pursued by a secret uneasiness, by self-reproach, or the workings of what we call conscience, which is the inevitable doom of the guilty.

Strength of character consists of two things: — power of will and power of self-restraint. It requires two things, therefore, for its existence—strong feelings and strong command over them. Now it is here we make a great mistake; we mistake strong feelings for strong character. A man who bears all before him, before whose frown domestics tremble, and whose bursts of fury make the children of the household quake ; — because he has his will obeyed, and his own way in all things, we call him a strong man. The truth is, that is the weak man; it is his passions that are strong; he, mastered by them is weak. You must measure the strength of a man by the power of the feelings he subdues, not by the power of those which subdue him. And hence composure is very often the highest result of strength.

Did we never see a man receive a flagrant insult, and only grow a little pale, and then reply quietly? This is a man spiritually strong. Or did we never see a man in anguish stand, as if carved out of solid rock, mastering himself? Or one bearing a hopeless daily trial remain silent, and never tell the world what cankered his home peace? That is strength.  He who, with strong passions, remains chaste; he who, keenly sensitive, with manly powers of indignation in him, can be provoked, and yet restrain himself and forgive—these are the strong men, the spiritual heroes.

The truest criterion of a man’s character and conduct, is, invariably, to be found in the opinion of his nearest relations, who, having daily and hourly opportunities of forming a judgment of him, will not fail in doing so. It is a far higher testimony in his favor, for him to secure the esteem and love of a few individuals within the privacy of his own home, than the good opinion of hundreds in his immediate neighborhood, or that of ten times the number residing at a distance. In fact, next to a close and impartial self-scrutiny, no question comes so near the truth, as for a man to ask himself, “What is thought of me by the familiar circle of my own fireside?” Would that all remembered this!

The chief outlines of the human character are drawn within the first ten years of life. Character is what a man truly is, and what his reputation soon will be. In trifles, infinitely clearer than in great deeds, actual character is displayed. The differences of character are never more distinctly seen than in times when men are surrounded by difficulties and misfortunes. A good character is a fortune.