The Arizona sentinel., 1888-07-14
PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT.


 to the Young of Doing Every Thing
 Well.
 Practice makes perfect but perfection does not necessarily come from much practice. Every thing depends on the character of the practice. The oftener we do thing carelessly, the more firm ly we fix the habit of not doing that thing well-the harder we make it to do our best when need comes for the exercise of our highest skill
 Habits count for more than capacity in the conduct of life; and if our practice does not tend to make our best work habitual, so that it is easier to do well than ill, we will not be much advantaged by it.
 In practical life, ''well enough for the purpose" is good rule. It is fol- ly to put ten dollars worth of work on a fve-dollar job. We do not finish door-yard fence as we would a hand- rail of our stairway inside, nor field fence like the fence about the house. The fine skill put upon the finishing of a carriage would be out of place upon
 A working-drawing, or an ordinary note of invitation, or penciled memor- andum, must be correct or clearly in- telligible, but need not be artistic in style or finish. In all such cases it i not the doing, but the thing done, that is of importance. Doing for the pur- pose of lf-training-indeed, for any purpose except sheernecessity in early life-comes under different rule.
 In youth, when our habits are form ing, we misspend our time if we do any thing-work or play-indifferently we'll There is then no well enough except our very best. The thing we set out to make may not be worth much when it is finished, yet we can not af- ford to make it badly. There is as litt'e solid enjoyment in a piece of poor work as in badly-played game.
 Besides, if the joining made, the blow struck, or the line drawn, is not true to the best of our ability, the prac- tiee got in doing it will hinder rather than help us toward that condition of off-hand, unconscious, habitual skill- fulness which is the secret of easy and success full accomplishment
 We may not have-are not likely to have-the rare gifts which constitute genius, but we may draw near to, per haps surpass, the achievements of genius, if in all our training work we never allow ourselves in any thing to fall short of the best that we are capa- ble of doing. Practice of this kind leads toward perfection; all other away from 1t.
 With the high demands and fierce competition of modern life, the chances are heavily against those who are capable of third or fourth work. Every avenue of life is crowded with those who can do work that is just tol- erably good; but superior workers are fewer.
 In every art or profession there is abundant "room at the top;" and the uncrowded workers, though few rather because they are few-reap the lions share of ths rewards. For the products of superior knowledge and skill there is always demand at good prices, and the frst-rate man or wO- man commands the situation, while the third-rate goes a-begging for something to do.
 When one has learned how to do supe- rior work, and has acquired the habit of doing it as a matter of course, it is as easy to do that rapidly as poor work; and the superior worker in every field of effort receives twice, thrice, ofteni ten times the pay of the inferior work CT. This unequal pay for equal labor is the prize which the world offers for superior quality in work, and that quail ity is very largely the result of taking pains when working habits are being formed.
 Accordingly we would say to oui young friends: Don't let your pastims work train you to be "botches." {" You are making not playthings merely. but yourselves; and bad job at that IS the worst job you can undertake Bet ter be doing absolutely nothing thar practicing any thing in a careless nap hazard, hit-or miss fashion.
 It is easier to learn good haoltS than to unlearn bad ones, and any practicel that fixes bsd habits-manual, mental or moral-will not pay.-e 2. Corso's; m Golden Daas