Character — Ch12a - The Discipline of Experience

CHAPTER XII--THE DISCIPLINE OF EXPERIENCE.

"I would the great would grow like thee.

Who grewest not alone in power And knowledge, but by year and hour In reverence and in charity."

--TENNYSON.

"Not to be unhappy is unhappynesse, And misery not t'have known miserie;

For the best way unto discretion is The way that leades us by adversitie;

And men are better shew'd what is amisse, By th'expert finger of calamitie, Than they can be with all that fortune brings, Who never shewes them the true face of things."

--DANIEL.

"A lump of wo affliction is, Yet thence I borrow lumps of bliss;

Though few can see a blessing in't, It is my furnace and my mint."

--ERSKINE'S GOSPEL SONNETS.

"Crosses grow anchors, bear as thou shouldst so Thy cross, and that cross grows an anchor too."

--DONNE.

"Be the day weary, or be the day long, At length it ringeth to Evensong."

--ANCIENT COUPLET.

Practical wisdom is only to be learnt in the school of experience.

Precepts and instructions are useful so far as they go, but, without the discipline of real life, they remain of the nature of theory only.

The hard facts of existence have to be faced, to give that touch of truth to character which can never be imparted by reading or tuition, but only by contact with the broad instincts of common men and women.

To be worth anything, character must be capable of standing firm upon its feet in the world of daily work, temptation, and trial; and able to bear the wear-and-tear of actual life.

Cloistered virtues do not count for much.

The life that rejoices in solitude may be only rejoicing in selfishness.

Seclusion may indicate contempt for others; though more usually it means indolence, cowardice, or self-indulgence.

To every human being belongs his fair share of manful toil and human duty; and it cannot be shirked without loss to the individual himself, as well as to the community to which he belongs.

It is only by mixing in the daily life of the world, and taking part in its affairs, that practical knowledge can be acquired, and wisdom learnt.

It is there that we find our chief sphere of duty, that we learn the discipline of work, and that we educate ourselves in that patience, diligence, and endurance which shape and consolidate the character.

There we encounter the difficulties, trials, and temptations which, according as we deal with them, give a colour to our entire after-life; and there, too, we become subject to the great discipline of suffering, from which we learn far more than from the safe seclusion of the study or the cloister.

Contact with others is also requisite to enable a man to know himself.

It is only by mixing freely in the world that one can form a proper estimate of his own capacity.

Without such experience, one is apt to become conceited, puffed-up, and arrogant; at all events, he will remain ignorant of himself, though he may heretofore have enjoyed no other company.

Swift once said: "It is an uncontroverted truth, that no man ever made an ill-figure who understood his own talents, nor a good one who mistook them."

Many persons, however, are readier to take measure of the capacity of others than of themselves.

"Bring him to me," said a certain Dr. Tronchin, of Geneva, speaking of Rousseau--"Bring him to me, that I may see whether he has got anything in him!"

--the probability being that Rousseau, who knew himself better, was much more likely to take measure of Tronchin than Tronchin was to take measure of him.

A due amount of self-knowledge is, therefore, necessary for those who would BE anything or DO anything in the world.

It is also one of the first essentials to the formation of distinct personal convictions.

Frederic Perthes once said to a young friend: "You know only too well what you CAN do; but till you have learned what you CANNOT do, you will neither accomplish anything of moment, nor know inward peace."

Any one who would profit by experience will never be above asking for help.

He who thinks himself already too wise to learn of others, will never succeed in doing anything either good or great.

We have to keep our minds and hearts open, and never be ashamed to learn, with the assistance of those who are wiser and more experienced than ourselves.

The man made wise by experience endeavours to judge correctly of the thugs which come under his observation, and form the subject of his daily life.

What we call common sense is, for the most part, but the result of common experience wisely improved.

Nor is great ability necessary to acquire it, so much as patience, accuracy, and watchfulness.

Hazlitt thought the most sensible people to be met with are intelligent men of business and of the world, who argue from what they see and know, instead of spinning cobweb distinctions of what things ought to be.

For the same reason, women often display more good sense than men, having fewer pretensions, and judging of things naturally, by the involuntary impression they make on the mind.

Their intuitive powers are quicker, their perceptions more acute, their sympathies more lively, and their manners more adaptive to particular ends.

Hence their greater tact as displayed in the management of others, women of apparently slender intellectual powers often contriving to control and regulate the conduct of men of even the most impracticable nature.

Pope paid a high compliment to the tact and good sense of Mary, Queen of William III.

, when he described her as possessing, not a science, but [21what was worth all else] prudence.

The whole of life may be regarded as a great school of experience, in which men and women are the pupils.

As in a school, many of the lessons learnt there must needs be taken on trust.

We may not understand them, and may possibly think it hard that we have to learn them, especially where the teachers are trials, sorrows, temptations, and difficulties;

and yet we must not only accept their lessons, but recognise them as being divinely appointed.

To what extent have the pupils profited by their experience in the school of life?

What advantage have they taken of their opportunities for learning?

What have they gained in discipline of heart and mind?

--how much in growth of wisdom, courage, self-control?

Have they preserved their integrity amidst prosperity, and enjoyed life in temperance and moderation?

Or, has life been with them a mere feast of selfishness, without care or thought for others?

What have they learnt from trial and adversity?

Have they learnt patience, submission, and trust in God?

--or have they learnt nothing but impatience, querulousness, and discontent?

The results of experience are, of course, only to be achieved by living;

and living is a question of time.

The man of experience learns to rely upon Time as his helper.

"Time and I against any two," was a maxim of Cardinal Mazarin.

Time has been described as a beautifier and as a consoler; but it is also a teacher.

It is the food of experience, the soil of wisdom.

It may be the friend or the enemy of youth; and Time will sit beside the old as a consoler or as a tormentor, according as it has been used or misused, and the past life has been well or ill spent.

"Time," says George Herbert, "is the rider that breaks youth."

To the young, how bright the new world looks!

--how full of novelty, of enjoyment, of pleasure!

But as years pass, we find the world to be a place of sorrow as well as of joy.

As we proceed through life, many dark vistas open upon us--of toil, suffering, difficulty, perhaps misfortune and failure.

Happy they who can pass through and amidst such trials with a firm mind and pure heart, encountering trials with cheerfulness, and standing erect beneath even the heaviest burden!

A little youthful ardour is a great help in life, and is useful as an energetic motive power.

It is gradually cooled down by Time, no matter how glowing it has been, while it is trained and subdued by experience.

But it is a healthy and hopeful indication of character,--to be encouraged in a right direction, and not to be sneered down and repressed.

It is a sign of a vigorous unselfish nature, as egotism is of a narrow and selfish one; and to begin life with egotism and self-sufficiency is fatal to all breadth and vigour of character.

Life, in such a case, would be like a year in which there was no spring.

Without a generous seedtime, there will be an unflowering summer and an unproductive harvest.

And youth is the springtime of life, in which, if there be not a fair share of enthusiasm, little will be attempted, and still less done.

It also considerably helps the working quality, inspiring confidence and hope, and carrying one through the dry details of business and duty with cheerfulness and joy.

"It is the due admixture of romance and reality," said Sir Henry Lawrence, "that best carries a man through life...

The quality of romance or enthusiasm is to be valued as an energy imparted to the human mind to prompt and sustain its noblest efforts."

Sir Henry always urged upon young men, not that they should repress enthusiasm, but sedulously cultivate and direct the feeling, as one implanted for wise and noble purposes.

"When the two faculties of romance and reality," he said, "are duly blended, reality pursues a straight rough path to a desirable and practicable result; while romance beguiles the road by pointing out its beauties--by bestowing a deep and practical conviction that, even in this dark and material existence, there may be found a joy with which a stranger intermeddleth not--a light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."

[211] It was characteristic of Joseph Lancaster, when a boy of only fourteen years of age, after reading 'Clarkson on the Slave Trade,' to form the resolution of leaving his home and going out to the West Indies to teach the poor blacks to read the Bible.

And he actually set out with a Bible and 'Pilgrim's Progress' in his bundle, and only a few shillings in his purse.

He even succeeded in reaching the West Indies, doubtless very much at a loss how to set about his proposed work; but in the meantime his distressed parents, having discovered whither he had gone, had him speedily brought back, yet with his enthusiasm unabated; and from that time forward he unceasingly devoted himself to the truly philanthropic work of educating the destitute poor.

[212] There needs all the force that enthusiasm can give to enable a man to succeed in any great enterprise of life.

Without it, the obstruction and difficulty he has to encounter on every side might compel him to succumb; but with courage and perseverance, inspired by enthusiasm, a man feels strong enough to face any danger, to grapple with any difficulty.

What an enthusiasm was that of Columbus, who, believing in the existence of a new world, braved the dangers of unknown seas; and when those about him despaired and rose up against him, threatening to cast him into the sea, still stood firm upon his hope and courage until the great new world at length rose upon the horizon!

The brave man will not be baffled, but tries and tries again until he succeeds.

The tree does not fall at the first stroke, but only by repeated strokes and after great labour.

We may see the visible success at which a man has arrived, but forget the toil and suffering and peril through which it has been achieved.

When a friend of Marshal Lefevre was complimenting him on his possessions and good fortune, the Marshal said: "You envy me, do you?

Well, you shall have these things at a better bargain than I had.

Come into the court: I'll fire at you with a gun twenty times at thirty paces, and if I don't kill you, all shall be your own.

What!

you won't!

Very well; recollect, then, that I have been shot at more than a thousand times, and much nearer, before I arrived at the state in which you now find me!"