
A few years ago, a New
York merchant advertised for a lad. A youth saw the advertisement, and
called at the warehouse.
"Walk into the office,
my lad," said the merchant; "I'll attend to you soon."
The boy seated himself
in the office, and in due time the merchant appeared, and took a chair
beside him. On sitting down, he observed a cigar in his hat.
"My boy," said
he, "I want a smart, honest, faithful lad; but I see that you smoke
cigars, and in my experience of many years, I have ever found cigar-smoking
in lads to be connected with various other evil habits. You will not
suit me."
Perhaps the youth thought
the merchant was more particular than wise. But he, in common with all
men of as much discernment of character as Lawrence, understood the
drift of such small things as a cigar in a boy's hat. A straw shows
the direction of the wind. So character is usually judged of by little
things.
A man is very exact and
earnest for the farthing that is his due; and we infer that he is penurious.
Another is rude in the presence of ladies in the train, and we suppose
that he is ill-bred. A third spells some common words erroneously in
a letter, and we conclude that his education is deficient. In this way,
we make minor affairs a test of character, often, and perhaps generally.
We might never know the
true character of a governor or president, judged only by his great
public acts. We must know something of them in the more private and
every-day transactions of life, in order to understand them exactly.