The American. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1857-1857, 1857-11-28


large boulder stones take up the passage No.
grain by grain, atom by atom, each wave, as
it came and went, left its tribute of sediment
SO small-such an unconsidered triAe-that
the watching eye would never have noticed tho
deposit; and thus grew the bar which has
stopped up the harbor's mouth.
Facts like these bear with them analogies
applicable to the daily life of the millions. II
is not the great things which press upon their
atteniion-for which they are ever upon the
watch-which cannot pass unnoticed-that
shape their lives; it is the little things, the
trifes, SO minute that they cannot be seen
without the strictest attention, so apparently
unimportant that they do not challenge notice,
which are borne on by the current of time, till
they accumulate into what men call fate. Let
my readers dive into their consciousness, as
am accustomed to do into mine, and they will
acknowledge the truth Of what write. Most
Of them, perhaps, have heard the story of that
Partisan banker-Laftte, l think it was-how
a pin may be said to have made his fortune.
The tale runs, that he came poor thread bare
lad to seek employment of some great capital
ist. The rich man did not need an empJ0yec,
and the youth left the house to seek his for
tune elsewhere, As he passed through tho
courtyard pin on the ground struck his eye;
he picked it up, wiped it carefully, and stuck
il securely in his coat. The .fna7,cier, who
had Just dismissed the lad, saw the action from
his window. He knew the value Of attention
to little things, called the rejected applicant
back, and gave him an engagement. Attention
to little things marked all the life Of that young
man, and, by seizing them, he rose from the
position of the poor clerk, to that of the rich
est banker in France The tale maybe founded
on fact, or embody pure fiction--I know
not which; but this know-its moral is
true one. Bulwer tells US that the ideal is as
true as the real, for it always underlies the
real, and points to the condition toward which
the real is always tending; SO, true or false,
the story is as valuable as though it were con-
firmed by the latest edition of the most au-
thentic biography. 1t does not often happen,
in the lives of ordinary men, that such great
and well-marked changes can be traced directly
to such small and tri6ing causes, but hold
that in all lives something similar takes place.
1t is not apparent, perhaps; because, while
the effect is seen and remembered, the causes
are, from their minuteness, unobserved or for
gotten. Ii | ask any man how he became
what he is, what vague notion | get OF the
harbor opens from a rugged coast; mariners
used to run their vessels into its land locked
waters for shelter from the tempcsts which
beat upon the shore. Once there was water
dep enough at its mouth for largest ships,
laden to their utmost depth, to pass. Grad
| ually it grew more and more shallow, till to-
day, the keel of the fishing boat, which almost
skins over the waves top, CRATES upon the
bottom. How has tho deep water become
shallow? No great banks have been hcaved
up; no gigantic rocks lie PROSTATE there; no
facts which determined his life-course- the
point from which it branched off. He does
not know; he cannot tell; he supposcs it was
chance. 1t was the result Of the sum of little
| things which he has ceased to remember, if
indeed he were ever conscious Of them, which
mounted up at last to destiny From such
men, Chance and Destiny are one deity with
different names. Has any one ever noticed the
items of bill, representing an enormous debt,
| crushing some struggling man down into diff
cultya Petty items offractions following close
upon one another, farthings running up into
pence, pence rising into shillings, shilings ag-
| grcgating into pounds, pounds accumulating
into thousands, till the total overwhelms the
debtot The illustration is prosaic and homely
enough, but do not know a better one of the
| power Of little things. Have you ever listened
| to tale of embarrassment If you have, has
| it never struck you how seldom any of the
facls are Of any magnitudep Small annoy.
ances, little difficulties, petty troubles, frag,
mentary obstacles, paltry hindrances, insig-
| nificant burdens, each by itself hardly worthy
| thought but running up into total, cx-
pressed by one word-Ruin.
A minute too late for q railway train is
journey lost as much as though one were an
hour behind time. Almost right, all but the
merest tihe, is as bad as all wrong; as the old
| saying puts it, A miss is as good as a mile"
A shilling short Of the sum for which your bill
| fexchange lies due at the bankers IS as GER
tain commercial dishonor as though the whole
sum were wanting. A step too far carries you
over the brow of the precipice, and hurs you
headlong down to destructio, !, as surely as the
farthest leap forward Mems lives often run
on the very edge of fate, and a triAe throws
them off one track and on to another, as efiec-
tually as the greatest event
You hate some man, perhaps hate with an
animosity which has lasted the better part of
lifetime, and feels as though it would endure
through all life time; or you love some other
being, man or woman with an affection which
binds you together So intimately that you re-
| gard separation as too great a calamity 10 be
contemplated. Had little things nothing TO do
with the origin Of that bate or that affection?
Was the one prompted by some deep injury
either done or attempted? Was the other boli
of some inestimabe benefit either conferred
or offeredp 1t may be so; but if it be, then
your emotions flow from different source from
that of ninety men out of hundred In the
great majority OF cases, the hatreds and loves
Of the world are due to trifles long since for
gotten in the effects to which they gave rise
the hatreds to some curl of the lip expressing
not so much scorn as contempt, to a hard
| glance, or asneering word, or naughty bear
| ing; the lows and friendships TO q kindly
look or tender word in the hour Of sorrow and
trial, or a genial demeanor and conciliating
| manner.
In domestic affairs the action OF trihes Is
tpsricuisrly conspicuous. know many mar
lied cooples, and, old-bachclor-likc having
neither household cares nor joys of my own,
| | pay good deal of quiet attention TO those OF
my neighbors. | have often found that the
| phrase "a good husband, or that other one,
the best OF wives" rested on nothing greater
or more important than regular, unobtru-
sive, gentle performance Of those small duties
which fill up the hours of household life. The
| "good husband" seldom found his way homo
i wifhout Some trifia To show that he had not