# The Atlantic Monthly/Volume 2/Number 7/Suggestions

Featured in Vol 2., No.7 of The Atlantic Monthly.
SUGGESTIONS.
"Waste words, addle questions."
Bishop Andrews.
AFFAIRS.
When affairs are at their worst, a bold project may retrieve them by giving an assurance, else wanting, that hope, spirit, and energy still exist.
AFFINITIES.
Place an inferior character in contact with the finest circumstances, and, from wanting affinities with them, he will still remain, from no fault of his own, insensible to their attractions. Take him up the mount of vision, and show him the finest scene in Nature, and, instead of taking in the whole circle of its beauty, he will, quite as likely, have his attention engrossed by something mean and insignificant under his nose. I was reminded of this, on taking a little boy, three years old, to the top of the New York Reservoir. Placing him on one of the parapets, I endeavored to call his attention to the more salient and distant features of the extended prospect; but the little fellow's mind was too immature to be at all appreciative of them. His interest was confined to what he saw going on in a dirty inclosure on the opposite side of the street, where two or three goats were moving about. After watching them with curious interest for some time, "See, see!" said he, "dem is pigs down dare!" Was there need for quarrelling with my fine little man for seeing pigs where there were only goats, or goats where there was much worthier to be seen?
AFTER THE BATTLE.
A brave deed performed, a noble object accomplished, gives a fillip to the spirits, an exhilaration to the feelings, like that imparted by Champagne, only more ​permanent. It is, indeed, admirably well said by one wise to discern the truth of things, and able to give to his thought a vigorous expression, that "a man feels relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done otherwise shall give him no peace."
APPLAUSE.
Noble acts deserve a generous appreciation. Indeed, it is a species of injustice not to warmly applaud whatever is wisely said or ably done. Fine things are shown that they may be admired. When the peacock struts about, it is to show what a fine tail he has.
ARTISTS.
The artist's business is with the beautiful. The repugnant is outside of his province. Let him study only the beautiful, and he will always be pleased; let him treat only of the beautiful, with a true feeling for it, and he will always give pleasure.
The artist must love both his art and the subjects of his art. Nothing that is not lovable is worth portraying. In the portrait of Rosa Bonheur, she is appropriately represented with one arm thrown affectionately around the neck of a bull. She must have loved this order of animals, to have painted them so well.
AUTHORS.
Instead of the jealousies that obtain among them, there is no class that ought to stand so close together, united in a feeling of common brotherhood, to strengthen, to support, and to encourage, by mutual sympathy and interchange of genial criticism, as authors. A sensitive race, neglect pierces like sharp steel into the very marrow of their being. And still they stand apart! Alive to praise, and needing its inspiration, their relations are those of icebergs,—cold, stiff, lofty, and freezing. What infatuation is this! They should seek each other out, extend the hand of fellowship, and bridge the distance between them by elaborate courtesies and kindly recognitions.
AN AUTHOR'S FIRST BOOK.
No man is a competent judge of what he himself does. An author, on the eve of his first publication, and while his book is going through the press, is in a predicament like that of a man mounted on a fence, with an ugly bull in the field that he is obliged to cross. The apprehended silence of the journals concerning his merits—for no notice is the worst notice—constitutes one of the "horns of his dilemma"; while their possibly invidious comments upon his want of them constitute another and equally formidable "horn." Between these, and the uncertainty as to whether he will not in a little time be cut by one-half of his acquaintances and only indulgently tolerated by the other half, his experience is apt to be very peculiar, and certainly not altogether agreeable. Never, therefore, envy an author his feelings on such an occasion, on the score of their superior enjoyment, but rather let him be visited with your softest pity and tenderest commiseration.
BOOKS.
A book is only a very partial expression of its author. The writer is greater than his work; and there is in him the substance, not of one, or a few, but of many books, were they only written out.
CAUSE AND EFFECT.
Small circumstances illustrate great principles. To-day my dinner cost me sixpence less than usual. This is an incident not quite so important as some others recorded in history, but the causes of it originated more than two thousand years ago. It will also serve to explain the principle, that causes are primary and secondary, remote and immediate,—and that historians, when they speak of certain effects as produced by certain causes. Socrates one day had a conversation with Aristippus, in which ​n which he threw out certain remarks on the subject of temperance. Being overheard by Xenophon, they were subsequently committed to writing and published by him. These, falling in my way last evening, made such an impression on my mind, that I was induced to-day to forego my customary piece of pudding after dinner, to the loss of the eating-house proprietor, whose receipts were thus diminished, first, by a few observations of an ancient Greek, secondly, by a report given of them by a bystander, and, thirdly, by the accidental perusal of them, after twenty centuries, by one of his customers.
CHEERFULNESS.
Sullen and good, morbid and wise, are impossible conditions. The best test, both of a man's wisdom and goodness, is his cheerfulness. When one is not cheerful, he is almost invariably stupid. A sad face seldom gets into much credit with the world, and rarely deserves to. "Sorrow," says old Montaigne, "is a base passion."
"The quarrel between Gray and me," said Horace Walpole, "arose from his being too serious a companion." In my opinion, this was a good ground for cutting the connection. What right has any one to be "too serious a companion?"
COWARDS.
In desperate straits the fears of the timid aggravate the dangers that imperil the brave. For cowards the road of desertion to the enemy should be left open; they will carry over to them nothing but their fears. The poltroon, like the scabbard, is an incumbrance when once the sword is drawn.
CRITICISM.
No work deserves to be criticized which has not much in it that deserves to be applauded. The legitimate aim of criticism is to direct attention to what is excellent The bad will dig its own grave, and the imperfect may be safely left to that final neglect from which no amount of present undeserved popularity can rescue it.
Ever so critical of things: never but good-naturedly so of persons.
CULTURE.
Partial culture runs to the ornate; extreme culture to simplicity.
DEATH.
Without death in the world, existence in it would soon become, through over-population, the most frightful of curses. To death we owe our life; the passing of one generation clears the way for another; and thus, in the economy of Providence, the very extinction of being is a provision for extending the boon of existence. Even wars and disease are a good misunderstood. Without them, child-murder would be as common in Christendom as it is in over-populated China.
DEBTORS AND CREDITORS.
To interest a number of people in your welfare, get in debt to them. If they will not then promote your interest, it is because they are not alive to their own. It is to the advantage of creditors to aid their debtors. Cæsar owed more than a million of dollars before he obtained his first public employment, and at a later period his liabilities exceeded his assets by ten millions. His creditors constituted an important constituency, and doubtless aided to secure his elections.
DIFFICULTIES.
Great difficulties, when not succumbed to, bring out great virtues.
DISGUST.
A fit of disgust is a great stimulator of thought. Pleasure represses it.
EARNESTNESS.
M. de Buffon says that "genius is only great patience." Would it not be truer to say that genius is great earnestness? Patience is only one faculty; earnestness is the devotion of all the faculties: it is the cause of patience; it gives endurance. ​overcomes pain, strengthens weakness, braves dangers, sustains hope, makes light of difficulties, and lessens the sense of weariness in overcoming them. Yes, War yields its victories, and Beauty her favors, to him who fights or wooes with the most passionate ardor,—in other words, with the greatest earnestness. Even the simulation of earnestness accomplishes much,—such a charm has it for us. This explains the success of libertines, the coarseness of whose natures is usually only disguised by a certain conventional polish of manners: "their hearts seem in earnest, because their passions are."
EDUCATION OF THE SEXES.
Girls are early taught deceit, and they never forget the lesson. Boys are more outspoken. This is because boys are instructed that to be frank and open is to be manly and generous, while their sisters are perpetually admonished that "this is not pretty," or "that is not becoming," until they have learned to control their natural impulses, and to regulate their conduct by precepts and example. The result of all this is, that, while men retain much of their natural dispositions, women have largely made-up characters.
EMERSON'S ESSAYS.
I have not yet been able to decide whether it is better to read certain of Emerson's essays as poetry or philosophy. Perhaps, though, it would be no more than just to consider them as an almost complete and perfect union of the two. Certainly, no modern writer has more of vivid individuality, both of thought and expression,—and few writers, of any age, will better bear reperusal, or surpass him in the grand merit of suggestiveness. There is much in his books that I cannot clearly understand, and passages sometimes occur that once seemed to me destitute of meaning; but I have since learned, from a greater familiarity with what he has written, to respect even his obscurities, and to have faith that there is at all times behind his words both a man and a meaning.
ENGLISHMEN.
There is in the character of perhaps a majority of Englishmen a singular commingling of the haughty and the subservient,—the result, doubtless, of the mixed nature, partly aristocratic and partly democratic, of the government, and of the peculiar structure of English society, in which every man indemnifies himself for the subserviency he is required to exhibit to the classes above, by exacting a similar subserviency from those below him. Thackeray, who is to be considered a competent judge of the character of his countrymen, puts the remark into the mouth of one of his characters, that, "if you wish to make an Englishman respect you, you must treat him with insolence." The language is somewhat too strong, and it would not be altogether safe to act upon the suggestion; but the witticism embodies a modicum of truth, for all that.
EXAMPLE.
Example has more followers than reason.
EXCITEMENT COUNTERVAILS PAIN.
We wince under little pains, but Nature in us, through the excitement attendant upon them, seems to brace us to endure with fortitude greater agonies. A curious circumstance, that will serve as an illustration of this, is told by an eminent surgeon of a person upon whom it became necessary to perform a painful surgical operation. The surgeon, after adjusting him in a position favorable to his purpose, turned for a moment to write a prescription; then, taking up the knife, he was about making an "imminent deadly breach" in the body of his subject, when he observed an expression of distress upon his countenance. Wishing to reassure him, "What disturbs you?" he inquired. "Oh," said the sufferer, "you have left the pen in the inkstand!" and this being removed, he submitted to the operation with extraordinary composure.
FACT AND FANCY.
"See, nurse I see!" exclaimed a delighted papa, as something like a smile irradiated the face of his infant child,—"an angel is whispering to it!" "No, Sir," replied the more matter-of-fact nurse,—"it is only wind from its stomach."
FINE HOUSES.
To build a huge house, and furnish it lavishly,—what is this but to play baby-house on a large scale?
FINE LADIES.
If you would know how many of the "airs" of a fine lady are "put on," contrast her with a woman who has never had the advantages of a genteel training. What appear as the curvettings and prancings of a high-mettled nature turn out, from the light thus afforded, to be only the tricks of a skilful grooming.
FUTURE LIFE.
Altogether too much thought is given to the next world. One world at a time ought to be sufficient for us. If we do our duty manfully in this, much consideration of our relations to that next world may be safely postponed until we are in it.
GREAT MEN.
Oh, the responsibility of great men! Could some of these the originators of new beliefs, of new methods in Art, of new systems of state and ecclesiastical polity, of novel modes of practice in medicine, and the like.—"revisit the pale glimpses of the moon," and look upon the streams of blood and misery that have flowed from fountains they have unsealed, they would skulk back to their graves faster and more affrighted than when they first descended into them.
HABITS.
Habit to a great extent, is the forcing of Nature to your way, instead of leaving her to her own. Struck by this consideration, "He is a fool, then, who has any habits," said W. Softly, my dear Sir,—the position is an extreme one. Bad habits are very bad, and good habits, blindly followed, are not altogether good, for they make machines of us. Occasional excesses may be wholesome; and Nature accommodates herself to irregularities, as a ship to the action of waves. Good habits are in the nature of allies: we may strengthen ourselves by an alliance with them, but they should not outnumber the forces they act with. Habits are the Hessians of our moral warfare: the good or the ill they do depends on the side they fight on.
HEROISM.
The race of heroes, though not prolific, is never extinct. Nature, liberal in this, as in all things else, has sown the constituent qualities of heroism broadcast. Elements of the heroic in character exist in almost every individual; it is only the felicitous combination of them all in one that is rare.
IDEAS.
Ideas, in regard to their degrees of merit, may be divided, like the animal kingdom, into classes or families. First in rank are those ideas that have in them the germs of a great moral unfolding,—as the ideas of a religious teacher, like Socrates or Confucius. Next in merit are those ideas that lay open the secrets of Nature, or add to the combinations of Art,—as the ideas of inventors and discoverers. Next in the order of excellence are all new and valuable ideas on diseases and their treatment, on the redress of social abuses, on government and laws and their administration, and all similar ideas on all other subjects connected with material welfare or intellectual and moral advancement. Last and least, ideas that are only the repetition of other ideas, previously known, though not so well expressed.
INSTITUTIONS.
When an institution, not designed to be stationary, ceases to be progressive, it is usually because its officers have lost ​their ambition to make it so. In such a contingency, they had better be called upon to resign, and thus to open the way for a more executive and energetic management.
LAWYERS.
The lawyer's relation to society is like that of the scarecrow to the cornfield; concede that he effects nothing of positive good, and he still exerts a wholesome influence from the terror his presence inspires.
LEADERSHIP.
He who aspires to be leader must keep in advance of his column. His fears must not play traitor to his occasions. The instant he falls into line with his followers, a bolder spirit may throw himself at the head of the movement initiated, and from that moment his leadership is gone.
LET THE RIGHT PREVAIL.
It is better that ten times ten thousand men should suffer in their interests than that a right principle should not be vindicated. Granting that all these will be injured by the suppression of the false, an infinitely greater number will as certainly be prejudiced by throwing off the allegiance due to truth. Throughout the future, all have an interest in the establishment of sound principles, while only a few in the present can have even a partial interest in the perpetuation of error.
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS.
It is pleasanter and more amiable to applaud than to condemn, and they who look wisely to their happiness will endeavor, as they go through life, to see as much to admire, and as few things that are repugnant, as possible. Nothing that is not distinctively excellent is worthy of particular study or comment.
LOVERS' DIFFERENCES.
Their love for each other is only partial who differ much and widely. When a loving heart speaks to a heart that loves in return, an understanding is easily arrived at.
WHAT LOVE PROVES.
The existence of so much love in the world establishes that there is in it much of the excellence that justifies so exalted a passion. Almost every man has been a lover at some period in his life, and, out of so many lovers, it is unreasonable to suppose that all of them have been mistaken in their estimates.
MAGNANIMITY.
Justice to the defeated exalts the victor from a subject of admiration to an object of love. To the fame of superior courage or address he thereby adds the glory of a greater magnanimity. Praise, too, of a vanquished opponent makes our victory over him appear the more signal.
MANHOOD.
The question is not, the number of facts a man knows, but how much of a fact he is himself.
MEAN MEN.
If a man is thoroughly mean by nature, let him give full swing to his meanness. Such a fellow brings discredit upon generosity by putting on its semblance. If he attempts to disguise the smallness of his soul, he only adds to his contemptible trait of meanness the still more despicable vice of hypocrisy. Mean by the sacred institution of Nature, and without a generous trait to mar the excellence of his native meanness, so long as he continues unqualifiedly mean, he exists a perfect type of a particular character, and presents to us a fine illustration of the vast capabilities of Nature.
METHODS OF THE ENTERPRISING.
Great personal activity at times, and closely sedentary and severely thoughtful habits at other times, are the forces by which able men accomplish notable enterprises. Sitting with thoughtful brows by their evening firesides, they originate and ​mature their plans; after which, with energies braced to their work, they move to the easy conquest of difficulties accounted formidable, because they have deliberated upon and mastered the best methods for overcoming them.
MILITARY SCHOOLS.
The existence of military schools is a proof that the other schools have not done their duty.
NATURE AND ART.
The art of being interesting is largely the art of being real,—of being without art.
NEWSPAPERS.
The world is not fairly represented by its newspapers. Life is something better than they make it out to be. They are mainly the records of the crimes that curse and the casualties that afflict it, the contests of litigants and the strifes of politicians; but of the sweet amenities of home and social life they are and must be silent. Not without a reason has the poet fled from the "poet's corner."
NON-COMMUNICANTS.
Certain minds are formed to take in truths, but not to utter them. They hoard their knowledge, as misers their gold. Their communicativeness is small. Their appreciation of principles is greater than their sympathy for persons.
OPINIONS.
The best merit of an opinion is, that it is sound; its next best merit, that it is briefly expressed.
POETS AND POETRY.
The "twelve rules for a poet" are eleven too many. The poet needs but one rule for his guidance as a poet,—namely, never to write poetry.
POPULAR ASPIRANTS.
The fate of a popular aspirant is often like that of a prize ox. When in his best condition, he is put up for exhibition, decorated with flowers and ribbons, and afterwards led out to be slaughtered.
PRAISE.
No one, probably, was ever injured by having his good qualities made the subject of judicious praise. The virtues, like plants, reward the attention bestowed upon them by growing more and more thrifty. A lad who is told often that he is a good boy will in time grow ashamed to exhibit the qualities of a bad one.
PRIDE.
Pride is like the beautiful acacia, that carries its head proudly above its neighbor plants,—forgetting that it, too, like them, has its root in the dirt.
PROVERBS.
Invention and the Graces preside at the birth of a good proverb. Aside from the ideas expressed in them, they are deserving of the attention of literary men and all students of expression, from the infinite variety of turns of style they exhibit. "If you don't want to be tossed by a bull, toss the bull." Here, for instance, the thought is not only spirited, but it is so rendered as to give to the idea both the force of novelty and the agreeableness of wit. The words are as hard and compact, and the thought flies as swift, as a bullet.
PUBLIC MEN.
A public man may reasonably esteem it a piece of good fortune to be vigorously attacked in the newspapers. In the first place, it lifts him prominently into notice. Then, a plausible defence will divide public opinion, while a triumphant vindication will more fully establish him in the popular regard. Even if unable to offer either, the notoriety so acquired will in time soften into a counterfeit of celebrity so like the original that it will easily pass for it. Besides, the world is charitable, and will forget old sins in consideration of later virtues.
MANNERS OF REFORMERS.
Reformers, from being deeply impressed with the evils they seek to redress, and actively engaged in a warfare against them, are apt to contract a certain habit of denunciation, extending to persons and things at large, and by which their character for amiability is injuriously affected. This is particularly noticeable in that portion of the press devoted to Progress.
REQUESTS.
It is well to dress in your best when you go to press a request. It is not so easy to resist the solicitations of a well-dressed importunate.
RICH AND POOR.
Grace resides with the cultivated, but strength is the property of the people. Art with these has not emasculated Nature.
RICH TO EXCESS.
Intellectually, as many suffer from too much physical health as too little. A fat body makes a lean mind.
RULE OR RUIN.
A thoroughly vigorous man will not actively belong to any associated body, except to rule in it. Not to control in its affairs is to have his individuality cut down to the standard of those that do. He must stamp himself upon the institution, or its enfeebling influence will be stamped upon him.
SANS PEUR.
No man is competent greatly to serve the cause of truth till he has made audacity a part of his mental constitution.
There are some dangers that are to be courted,—courted and braved as a coy mistress is to be wooed, with all the more vigor as the day makes against us. When Fortune frowns upon her worthy wooer, it is still permitted him to think how pleasant it will be ere long to bask in her smiles.
SLIGHTS.
In seasons when the energies flag and our ambition fails us, a rebuff is a blessing, by rousing us from inaction, and stirring us to more vigorous efforts to make good our pretensions.
SOCIAL REGENERATION.
Private worth is the only true basis of public prosperity. Still, ministers and moralists do but tinker at the regeneration of the world in merely recommending individual improvement. The most prolific cause of depravity is the social system that forms the character to what it is. The virtues, like plants, to flourish, must have a soil and air adapted to them. A plant at the seaside yields soda; the same plant grown inland produces potash. What society most needs, for its permanent advancement, is uniformity of inheritance.
SPEAKERS.
A speaker should put his character into what he says. So many speakers, like so many faces, have no individuality in them.
SPEAKING AND TALKING.
There is often a striking contrast between a man's style of writing and of talking,—for which I offer this explanation: He ponders what he writes; he talks without system. As an author, therefore, he is sententious; as a conversationist, loose and verbose;—or the reverse of this may be true.
SPEECH.
Language was given to us that we might say pleasant things to each other.
PREVAILING STYLES.
In literary performances, as in Gothic architecture, the taste of the age is largely in favor of the pointed styles. Our churches and our books must bristle all over with points, or they are not so much thought of.
SUNDAY.
The poor man's rich day.
THINGS WORTH KNOWING.
Only the good is worth knowing, and only the beautiful worth studying.
TOBACCO.
Tobacco in excess fouls the breath, discolors the teeth, soils the complexion, deranges the nerves, reduces vitality, impairs the sensibility to beauty and to pleasure, abets intemperance, promotes idleness, and degrades the man.
TRADE-LIFE.
Formerly, when great fortunes were made only in war, war was a business; but now, when great fortunes are made only by business, business is war.
TRUTH-SEEKERS.
Hamlet, in the ghost scene, is a fine example of the questioning spirit pursuing its inquiries regardless of consequences. The apparition which affrights and confounds his companions only spurs his not less timid, perhaps, but more speculative nature into following and plying it with questions. Only thus should Truth be followed, with an interest great enough to overmaster all fears as to whither she may lead and what she may disclose.
UGLY MEN.
When a man is hideously ugly his only safety is in glorying in it. Let him boldly claim it as a distinction.
THE WALK.
The walk discloses the character. A placid and composed walk bespeaks the philosopher. He walks as if the present was sufficient for him. A measured step is the expression of a disciplined intellect, not easily stirred to excesses. A hurried pace denotes an eager spirit, with a tendency to precipitate measures. The confident and the happy swing along, and need a wide sidewalk; while an irregular gait reveals a composite of character,—one thing to-day, another to-morrow, and nothing much at any time.
WINE.
In vino there is not only veritas, but sensibility. It makes the face of him who drinks it to excess blush for his habits.
WISDOM.
Wisdom comes to us as guest, but her visits are liable to sudden terminations. In our efforts to retain the wisdom we have acquired, an embarrassment arises like that of the little boy who was scolded for having a dirty nose. "Blow your nose, Sir." "Papa, I do blow my nose, but it won't stay blowed."
WOMEN AS JUDGES OF CHARACTER.
It is more honorable to have the regards of a few noble women than to be popular among a much greater number of men. Having in themselves the qualities that command our love, they are, for that reason, the better able to appreciate the traits that deserve to inspire it. The heart must be judged by the heart, and men are too intellectual in the processes by which they form their regards.
AVERAGE WORTH.
A wife should accept her husband, and a friend his friend, upon a general estimate. Particulars in character and conduct should be overlooked.
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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