Character | Page 6

Thus reliableness becomes a passport to the general esteem and
confidence of mankind.
In the affairs of life or of business, it is not intellect that tells so much
as character,--not brains so much as heart,--not genius so much as
self-control, patience, and discipline, regulated by judgment. Hence
there is no better provision for the uses of either private or public life,
than a fair share of ordinary good sense guided by rectitude. Good
sense, disciplined by experience and inspired by goodness, issues in
practical wisdom. Indeed, goodness in a measure implies wisdom--the
highest wisdom--the union of the worldly with the spiritual. "The

correspondences of wisdom and goodness," says Sir Henry Taylor, "are
manifold; and that they will accompany each other is to be inferred, not
only because men's wisdom makes them good, but because their
goodness makes them wise." (6)
It is because of this controlling power of character in life that we often
see men exercise an amount of influence apparently out of all
proportion to their intellectual endowments. They appear to act by
means of some latent power, some reserved force, which acts secretly,
by mere presence. As Burke said of a powerful nobleman of the last
century, "his virtues were his means." The secret is, that the aims of
such men are felt to be pure and noble, and they act upon others with a
constraining power.
Though the reputation of men of genuine character may be of slow
growth, their true qualities cannot be wholly concealed. They may be
misrepresented by some, and misunderstood by others; misfortune and
adversity may, for a time, overtake them but, with patience and
endurance, they will eventually inspire the respect and command the
confidence which they really deserve.
It has been said of Sheridan that, had he possessed reliableness of
character, he might have ruled the world; whereas, for want of it, his
splendid gifts were comparatively useless. He dazzled and amused, but
was without weight or influence in life or politics. Even the poor
pantomimist of Drury Lane felt himself his superior. Thus, when
Delpini one day pressed the manager for arrears of salary, Sheridan
sharply reproved him, telling him he had forgotten his station. "No,
indeed, Monsieur Sheridan, I have not," retorted Delpini; "I know the
difference between us perfectly well. In birth, parentage, and education,
you are superior to me; but in life, character, and behaviour, I am
superior to you."
Unlike Sheridan, Burke, his countryman, was a great man of character.
He was thirty-five before be gained a seat in Parliament, yet he found
time to carve his name deep in the political history of England. He was
a man of great gifts, and of transcendent force of character. Yet he had
a weakness, which proved a serious defect--it was his want of temper;

his genius was sacrificed to his irritability. And without this apparently
minor gift of temper, the most splendid endowments may be
comparatively valueless to their possessor.
Character is formed by a variety of minute circumstances, more or less
under the regulation and control of the individual. Not a day passes
without its discipline, whether for good or for evil. There is no act,
however trivial, but has its train of consequences, as there is no hair so
small but casts its shadow. It was a wise saying of Mrs.
Schimmelpenninck's mother, never to give way to what is little; or by
that little, however you may despise it, you will be practically
governed.
Every action, every thought, every feeling, contributes to the education
of the temper, the habits, and understanding; and exercises an
inevitable influence upon all the acts of our future life. Thus character
is undergoing constant change, for better or for worse--either being
elevated on the one hand, or degraded on the other. "There is no fault
nor folly of my life," says Mr. Ruskin, "that does not rise up against me,
and take away my joy, and shorten my power of possession, of sight, of
understanding. And every past effort of my life, every gleam of
rightness or good in it, is with me now, to help me in my grasp of this
art and its vision." (7)
The mechanical law, that action and reaction are equal, holds true also
in morals. Good deeds act and react on the doers of them; and so do
evil. Not only so: they produce like effects, by the influence of example,
on those who are the subjects of them. But man is not the creature, so
much as he is the creator, of circumstances: (8) and, by the exercise of
his freewill, he can direct his actions so that they shall be productive of
good rather than evil. "Nothing can work me damage but myself," said
St. Bernard; "the harm that I sustain