CHAPTER II. HABITS. THE whole character may be said to be comprehended in the term habits; so that it is not so far from being true, that "man is a bundle of habits." Suppose you were compelled to wear an iron collar about your neck, through life, or a chain upon your ankle; would it not be a burden every day and hour of your existence? You rise in the morning a prisoner to your chain; you lie down at night, weary with the burden; and you groan the more deeply, as you reflect that there is no shaking it off. But even this would not be more intolerable to bear than many of the habits of men; nor would it be more difficult to be shaken off. Habits are easily formed, especially such as are bad; and what to-day seems to be a small affair, will soon become fixed, and hold you with the strength of a cable. The cable, you will recollect, is formed by spinning and twisting one thread at a time; but when once completed, the proudest ship turns her head towards it, and acknowledges her subjection to its power. Habits of some kind will be formed by every youth. He will have a particular course in which his time, his employments, his thoughts and feelings, will run. Good or bad, these habits soon become a part of himself, and a kind of second nature. Who does not know that the old man who has occupied a particular corner of the old fire-place in the old house for sixty years, may be rendered wretched by a change? You have perhaps read of the release of the aged prisoner of the Bastile, who entreated that he might again return to his gloomy dungeon, because his habits there formed were so strong, that his nature threatened to sink under the attempt to break them up. You will probably find no man of forty, who has not habits which he laments, which mar his usefulness, but which are so interwoven with his very being, that he cannot break through them. At least he has not the courage to try. I therefore expect that you will form habits. Indeed, I wish you to do so. He must be a poor character, indeed, who lives so extempore as not to have habits of his own. But what I wish is, that you form those habits which are correct, and such as will every day and hour add to your happiness and usefulness. If a workman were to be told that he must use the axe which he now selects, through life, would he not be careful in selecting one of the right proportions and temper? If a man were told that he must wear the same clothing through life, would he not be anxious as to the quality and kind? But these, in the cases supposed, would be of infinitely less importance than in the selection of habits in which the soul shall act. You might as well place the body in a strait-jacket, and expect it to perform with ease, and comfort, and promptness, the various duties of the body, as to throw the soul into the habits of some men, and then expect that it will accom plish anything great or good. Do not fear to undertake to form any habit which is desirable; for it can be formed, and that with more ease than you may at first suppose. Let the same thing, or the same duty, return at the same time every day, and it will soon become pleasant. No matter if it be irksome at first; but how irksome soever it may be, only let it return periodically, every day, and that without any interruption for a time, and it will become a positive pleasure. In this way all our habits are formed. The student who can with ease now sit down to his studies nine or ten hours a day, would find the labourer, or the man accustomed to active habits, sinking under it, should he attempt to do the same thing. I have seen a man sit down at a table spread with luxuries, and eat his sailor's biscuit with relish, and without a desire for any other food. His health had compelled him thus to live, till it had become a pleasant habit of diet. Previous to this, however, he had been rather noted for being an epicure. I shall specify habits which, in my view, are very desirable for you, and, at the same time, endeavour to give specific directions how to form them. 1. Have a plan laid beforehand for every day. These plans ought to be maturely formed the evening previous, and, on rising in the morning, again looked at, and immediately entered upon. It is astonishing how much more we accomplish in a single day, (and of what else is life made up?) by having the plan previously marked out. It is so in everything. This morning a man was digging a path through a deep snow-bank. It was almost insupportably cold, and he seemed to make but little head-way, though he worked as if for a wager At length, getting out of breath, he 8 paused, and marked out the width of the path with his shovel; then marked out the width of each shovel-ful, and consequently the amount of snow at each throw of the shovel. In fifteen minutes, he had done more, and it was done neater and easier, than in thirty minutes previous, when working without a plan. I have found, in my own experience, as much difference in the labours of two days, when working with or without a plan, as, at least, one half, without having the satisfaction, in the latter case, of knowing what I have done. Experience will tell any man, that he is most successful in his own pursuits, when he is most careful as to method. Such a system will not make a noisy blustering character. The river, that rolls a heavy burden of water to the ocean, is the stream which keeps the channel, and is noiseless in its course. If you are now going through your course of educa tion, there is a prescribed routine of duties, marked out by your teachers. These, of course, will come in your every-day plans; but, in addition to these, you ought to do something by way of acquiring or retaining information, or something to add to the happiness of your friends or of your companions. At first you will feel discouraged in not being able to do as much work as you mark out. But you will do more and more, from day to day, as you proceed; and you will soon be astonished at seeing how much can be accomplished. 2. Acquire the habit of untiring industry. Should you be so unfortunate as to suppose you are a genius, and that "things will come to you," it would be well to undeceive yourself as soon as possible. Make up your mind that in dustry must be the price of all you obtain, and at once begin to pay down. Diligence in employments of less consequence is the most successful introduction to greater enterprises. It is a matter of unaffected amazement to see what industry alone will accomplish. We are astonished at the volumes which the men of former ages used to write. But the term industry is the key to the whole secret. "He that shall walk with vigour three hours a day, will pass in seven years a space equal to the circumference of the globe." There is no state so bad for the student as idleness, and no habit so pernicious. And yet none is so easily acquired, or so difficult to be thrown off. The idle man soon grows torpid, and becomes the Indian in his feelings, insensibly adopting their maxim-" It is better to walk than to run, and better to stand still than to walk, and better to sit than to stand, and better to lie than to sit." Probably the man who deserves the most pity, is he who is most idle; for as there are said to be pleasures in madness known only to madmen, there are certainly miseries in idleness which only the idle can conceive. I am aware that many are exceedingly busy, who are not industrious. For it very frequently happens, that he who is most hurried and bustling, is very far from being industrious. A shrewd man can easily discover the difference. He that neglects his known duty and real employment, naturally endeavours to crowd his mind with something that may bar out the remembrance of his own folly, and does anything but what he ought to do, with eager diligence, that he may keep himself in his own favour. It is perfectly clear, that he who is industrious has really the most of leisure; for his time is marked out into distinct portions, to each of which |