The Young Man's Guide · William A. Alcott

SECTION I. Habit of Observation.

Chapter 42 of 60 · 4 min read

'Your eyes open, your thoughts close, will go safe through the world,' is a maxim which some have laid down; but it savors rather too much of selfishness. 'You may learn from others all you can, but you are to give them as little opportunity as possible for learning from you,' seems to be the language, properly interpreted. Suppose every one took the advice, and endeavored to keep his thoughts close, for fear he should either be misunderstood, or thought wanting in wisdom; what would become of the pleasures of conversation? Yet these make up a very considerable item of the happiness of human life.

I have sometimes thought with Dr. Rush, that taciturnity, though often regarded as a mark of wisdom, is rather the effect of a 'want of ideas.' The doctor mentions the taciturnity of the American Indians as a case in point. Even in civilized company, he believes that with one or two exceptions, an indisposition to join in conversation 'in nine cases out of ten, is a mark of stupidity,' and presently adds; 'Ideas, whether acquired from books or by reflection, produce a plethora in the mind, which can only be relieved by depletion from the pen or tongue.'

'Keep your eyes open,' however, is judicious advice. How many who have the eyes of their body open, keep the eyes of the soul perpetually shut up. 'Seeing, they see not.' Such persons, on arriving at the age of three or four score, may lay claim to superior wisdom on account of superior age, but their claims ought not to be admitted. A person who has the eyes both of his mind and body open, will derive more wisdom from one year's experience, than those who neglect to observe for themselves, from ten. Thus at thirty, with ten years acquaintance with men, manners and things, a person may be wiser than another at three times thirty, with seven times ten years of what he calls experience. Sound practical wisdom, cannot, it is true, be rapidly acquired any where but in the school of experience, but the world abounds with men who are old enough to be wise, and yet are very ignorant. Let it be your fixed resolution not to belong to this class.

But in order to have the mental eyes open, the external eyes should be active. We should, as a general rule, see what is going on around us. There are indeed seasons, occurring in the school or the closet, when abstraction is desirable; but speaking generally, we should 'keep our eyes open.'

It is hence easy to see why some men who are accounted learned, are yet in common life very great fools. Is it not because their eyes have been shut to every thing but books, and schools, and colleges, and universities?

The late Dr. Dwight was an eminent instance of keeping up an acquaintance both with books, and the world in which he lived and acted. In his walks, or wherever he happened to be, nothing could escape his eye. 'Not a bird could fly up,' says one of his students, 'but he observed it.' And he endeavored to establish the same habit of observation in others. Riding in a chaise, one day, with a student of his, who was apt to be abstracted from surrounding things, he suddenly exclaimed, almost indignant at his indifference, 'S— keep your eyes open!' The lesson was not lost. It made a deep impression on the mind of the student. Though by no means distinguished in his class, he has outstripped many, if not the most of them, in actual and practical usefulness; and to this hour, he attributes much of his success to the foregoing circumstance.

There is a pedantry in these things, however, which is not only fulsome, but tends to defeat our very purpose. It is not quite sufficient that we merely bestow a passing glance on objects, they must strike deep. If they do not, they had better not have been seen at all; since the habit of 'seeing not,' while we appear to 'see,' has been all the while strengthening.

It cannot be denied that a person who shall take the advice I have given, may, with a portion of his fellow men, gain less credit than if he adopted a different course. There is a certain surgeon, in one of the New England States, who has acquired much popularity by reading as he travels along. Seldom or never, say his admirers, is he seen in his carriage without a book in his hand, or at his side. But such popularity is usually of a mushroom character. There may be pressing occasions which render it the duty of a surgeon to consult his books, while in his carriage; but these occasions can never be of frequent occurrence. It is far better that he should be reading lessons from the great and open volume of nature.

Nor does it add, in any degree, to the just respect due to the wisdom of either of the Plinys, that the elder 'never travelled without a book and a portable writing desk by his side,' and that the younger read upon all occasions, whether riding, walking, or sitting.' I cannot doubt that, wise as they were in books and philosophy, they would have secured a much greater fund of practical wisdom, had they left their books and writing desks at home, and 'kept their eyes open' to surrounding objects.

There is another thing mentioned of Pliny the elder, which is equally objectionable. It is said that a person read to him during his meals. I have given my views on this point in Chapter I.