GETTING ON IN THE WORLD.*

ONE thought strikes us at the first glimpse of this volume, that before we have mastered all it teaches, and are ready to begin "getting on," the time will certainly have arrived for finally getting off. If it is essential to success to know bow every great man succeeded, and how every notable failure was achieved, and what every man of note that ever lived has written or spoken about every quality and every practice that makes or mars success, then indeed Dr. Mathews's book—alike exhaustive and exhausting—would be invaluable, if only there were time in this short life to read it, to master it, and to put its precepts into practice. We have often been struck before with the marvellous memory of our Transatlantic brethren, who seem to be able to ,summon to their assistance every word which they have at any time in their lives read, and which is at all germane to the matter in hand. We can, indeed, easily believe Dr. Mathews when he says—speaking of American studies—that till recently "our books for the young have been full of praises of the midnight oil ; our oracles of education have urged unsparing study," nothing less could supply the vast fund of quotation and illustra- tion in this and similar books of American lectures. In the region of quotation, indeed, it is difficult not to fancy that it cannot be supplied by unassisted memory, for it is an endless stream from the writings or biographies of great men, and suggests libraries of concordances, in which, at a glance, what everybody has said about everything is found ready for reference and extract. This wealth of quotation might well be spared. If we cannot carry conviction by the force of our own argument, we are not likely to do so by showing over and over again, ad nauseam, that the authorities are with us ; and if one illustration of our meaning does not serve to explain it, how shall we improve matters by the simple multiplica- tion of what has already been ineffectual ? It only adds largely to the bulk of the book, and therefore to the hindrances to its use- fulness ; or—and this, we are sure, is not Dr. Mathews's intention —to the author's reputation as a man of immense reading. To * Getting On in the World. By William Mathews, LL.D. London : Sampson Low and Co.

what end are passages like the following, recording instance upon instance of work done by the provident husbanding of minutes ?—

" It is related of a German critic that, he contrived to master the old bard of Scio during tho brief, hurried snatches of time when passing from one patient to another. Dr. Mason Good, the celebrated English physician, performed a similar feat, having translated into English verse the whole of Lucretius during his long walks in London to visit his patients. Dr. Darwin composed many of his works in the same way. While driving about in his sulky from house to house, ho jotted down his thoughts on little scraps of paper which he carried with him for the purpose. Matthew Hale's 'Contemplations' were composed while he was travelling as judge on circuit. Locke carried a note-book in his pocket, to catch the scintillations of even common conversation."

And so on, for a dozen instances more, 411ing a close-printed page and a half on this one point only, —tedious to read, impossible to remember, and not so convincing as Dr. Mathews's own sensible statement of the advantages of economy of time ; a statement, by the way, probably not needed to convince anyone, for indolence is not often the result of ignorance, and is really to be conquered, if at all, by the power of conscience, and not by the conviction of the intellect. Let us, in passing, remind Dr. Mathews (notwith- standing the truth of his arguments, and the admirable illus- tration—perhaps the most striking in the book—of the floor of the gold-room at the Philadelphia Mint), what tiresome bores, what living protests these indefatigable students are to their acquaintances, and that incessant occupation of mind shuts them out from the thousand influences, both on themselves and others, to which the observant and sympathetic mind is open.

It is inevitable that on such a subject there should be an apparent and indeed a real, want of consistency in the views pressed upon the readers. Success is a wide subject, and is a very different thing, both in prospect, in contemplation, and in retrospect, to different minds ; and our author, in lecturing to young men of every various shade of character, has been led to regard it from many far removed positions. There are the worldly and the eternal points of view, the prudent and the ambitious ; those which seek variously wealth, or influence, or fame ; the philanthropic, the social, and the purely selfish aim ; the highest culture of the in- tellect, and the careful attention to health. Si that in one chapter we are urged to the narrowest concentration of our powers, in another to the widest possible culture ; in one to the minutest economy of time, in another, to the most liberal allow- ance of rest and refreshment. In one, the only keys to success are originality and speciality; in another, inborn fitness and native aptitude; in a third, industry and perseverance, and it matters not how homely or common-place the work. The whole aim of one chapter is to show us how to "mike our mark," and to impress upon us that we have lived in vain unless we have done so ; while in the last, and by far the noblest chapter, ambition and success are forgotten, and the only thing to be desired is to do our best :— "In conclusion, it should be remembered that success in life is to be regarded as a means, and not as an end ; and that therefore there is such a thing possible as unsuccessful success ,—such a thing as gaining every end, while the whole life has been a failure. For what is this success, to which we have been trying to point out the path ? Viewed in the light of another world,—of that measureless existence compared with which this earthly one is but a point,—what is it, after all, but a comparatively vulgar, paltry affair? Is it anything for which a man should crawl in the dust, degrade himself in his own estimation, do violence to the divine principle within him, or stoop to the smallest mean or dishonourable action ? Is life a scrub-race, where, at every hazard, though you have to blind the man on your right and trip the

one on your left, you must struggle to come out ahead? Is it nothing to have a conscience void of offence, a face that never turns pale at the accuser's voice, a bosom that never throbs at the fear of ex- posure, a heart that might be turned inside out and discover no stain of

dishonour? As Dr. Arnold says, if there be one thing on earth which is truly admirable, it is to see God's wisdom blessing an inferiority of natural powers, when they have been honestly, truly, and zealously cultivated. Remembering that the battle of life cannot be fought by proxy, be your own helper, be earnest, be watchful, be diligent, and if you do not win success, you will have done the next best thing,—you will have deserved it."

Besides redundancy of illustration and quotation, we find much repetition, almost as difficult to avoid as inconsistency, where the author is so anxious to cover every branch of the subject ; thus the chapters on " Concentration " and "The Will and Way" alike press unremitting attention to one point as the soul of conquest ; those on "Physical Culture" and " Over-work " dwell, as one might expect, on the importance of bodily health as the source of intellectual power. And this repetition occasionally betrays the author into the use of the very same words,—as at pages 105 and 379, where we are advised to "mix brains with our business, as Opie the painter did with his colours." We could spare, too, some common-place metaphors, like the "world is an orchestra," &c. ; and in the next paragraph, the well-worn idea that "Life is a voyage," for the thousandth time, again does duty. But our principal objection to this—on the whole, and with all its defects —perhaps valuable book, is a tone of worldliness about it which crops up here and there, somewhat frustrating the admirable teaching, to which we have alluded, of its farewell passage. Social intercourse, for instance, is in one place recommended, not bemuse it enlarges the heart, or even polishes the mind, but because "I accomplish my main ends more rapidly and surely by leaving my office and dining with an influential friend "

" A late writer has justly urged that social intercourse, of the right kind, is a material aid to success. Often the gain is palpable to you at once, and you count your advantage as you take off your dress-coat. But if not, it will find you out after many days ; you have sown, and

in due season you will reap Am I more or less likely to read your book, or to buy your picture, or to say a good word for you, If I have a chance, to some man in authority, for sitting next to you at our friend Robinson's, and thinking you a pleasant fellow?"

It is not that there is anything wrong in this, but it is instilling— unintentionally, we should say, on Dr. Mathews'spart—a low, selfish conception of social intercourse, akin to the common advice to young men "not to marry money, but to go where money is." There is the same want of nobleness in the doctrine of "making your mark," and still more in the worldly advice to adopt a speciality, "whatever you deal in, whether groceries or speeches, bricks or law-argu- ments, must be, or seem to be, phenomenal. Whether above or

below mediocrity, they should be unique or exceptional

To get rid of your wares you must get your name into everybody's ears, and into everybody's mouth." In other words, if you have no original power, you must make up for it by being an empiric, a quack, and a puffer.

But there are a great number of good passages and much valuable advice in this big book, and amongst them nothing has struck us more than those on the courage necessary to remain ignorant of so much, in order to employ our short life here to some effect :—

" It has boon justly said that a great deal of the wisdom of a man in this century is shown in leaving things unknown, and a great deal of his practical sense in leaving things undone. The day of universal scholars is past. Life is short, and art is long. The range of human knowledge has increased so enormously, that no brain can grapple with it ; and the nfan who would know one thing well must have the courage to be ignorant of a thousand other things, however attractive or inviting There is probably no more frequent cause of failure in lifethan that greediness which leads men to grasp 'at too many of its prizes. There are some the acquisition of which is incom- patible with the acquisition of others, and the sooner this truth is realised and acted upon the better the chance of success and happiness. Much material good must be resigned if we would attain to the highest degree of moral excellence, and many spiritual joys must be foregone if we resolve at all risks to win great material advantages. To strive for a high professional position, and yet expect to have all the delights of leisure ; to labour for vast riches, and yet to ask for freedom from anxiety and care, and all the happiness which flows from

a contented mind ; to indulge in sensual gratification and yet demand health, strength, and vigour; to live for self, and yet to look for the joys that spring from a virtuous and, self-denying life—is to ask for impossibilities."

Alas that Dr. Mathews will so soon and so often fall back on his common-place illustrations, and conclude as follows !- "A circus-rider may ride five or six horses at a time, and not break his neck ; but a man who drives five or six trades or speculations abreast generally tumbles to the ground. Knives that contain a half-dozen blades, two or three corkscrews, a file, a small saw, a toothpick, and a pair of tweezers, are wretchedly adapted to any of these purposes, and are soon thrown away in disgust."

We will conclude with quoting one or two observations amongst many which have struck us by their acuteness, and in which a dry humour is often lurking :-

"There is one curious fact noticeable in regard to this thin,"' called 'luck,' which is, that while it is made responsible for any turn of affairs that we feel to be discreditable to us, it rarely has credit for an opposite state of things; but like most other faithful allies in victory, comes poorly off. Every good deed we do, every triumph we achieve, either in the battle-field of the world or of our own hearts, is due to ourselves alone. Stoutly as we may affirm that our disasters and vices are chargeable to luck, we never dream of ascribing our meritorious deeds, in the slightest degree, to its agency So necessary is labour of some kind to make existence tolerable, that those men who attempt to live a life of idleness are forced eventually to make work for themselves ; they turn their very pleasures into toil, and, from mere lack of something to do, engage in the most arduous

and exhausting pastimes The man of leisure is thus transformed into the most bustling, anxious repository of little paltry cares and petty crotchets; and when the night come; it is with a sense of relief, but very different from that of the worker, that he reflects that

Be the day weary, or be the day long, At length it ringeth to evensong.'

Now, the truth is, there is no condition in which the chance of doing any good is less than in that of leisure. Life, it has been truly said, is composed of an elastic material, and wherever a solid piece of business is removed, there the surrounding atmosphere of trifles rushes in as certainly as the air into a bottle when you pour out its contents."