Habit: The Servant, the Master

Habit, if wisely and skilfully formed, becomes truly a second nature.—BACON.

A habit, if formed wisely and skillfully, truly becomes second nature. BACON.

The chain of habit coils itself around the heart like a serpent, to gnaw and stifle it.—HAZLITT.

The chain of habit coils around the heart like a snake, gnawing and choking it. (HAZLITT)

You can not, in any given case, by any sudden and single effort, will to be true, if the habit of your life has been insincerity.—F. W. ROBERTSON.

If you have been insincere throughout your life, you cannot become sincere in any situation through a single, sudden effort of will. F. W. ROBERTSON.

It is a beautiful provision in the mental and moral arrangement of our nature, that that which is performed as a duty may by frequent repetition, become a habit; and the habit of stern virtue, so repulsive to others, may hang around our neck like a wreath of flowers.—PAXTON HOOD.

It is a beautiful feature of our mental and moral nature that a duty, repeated often, may become a habit. Even the habit of strict virtue, so repulsive to others, may hang around our neck like a wreath of flowers. PAXTON HOOD.

"When shall I begin to train my child?" asked a young mother of a learned physician.

"When should I begin to train my child?" a young mother asked a knowledgeable doctor.

"How old is the child?" inquired the doctor.

"How old is the child?" asked the doctor.

"Two years, sir."

"Two years, sir."

"Then you have lost just two years," replied he, gravely.

"Then you have lost just two years," he replied seriously.

"You must begin with his grandmother," said Oliver Wendell Holmes, when asked a similar question.

"You must begin with his grandmother," Oliver Wendell Holmes said when asked a similar question.

"At the mouth of the Mississippi," says Beecher, "how impossible would it be to stay its waters, and to separate from each other the drops from the various streams that have poured in on either side,—of the Red River, the Arkansas, the Ohio, and the Missouri,—or to sift, grain by grain the particles of sand that have been washed from the Alleghany, or the Rocky Mountains; yet how much more impossible would it be when character is the river, and habits are the side-streams!"

"At the mouth of the Mississippi," says Beecher, "how impossible it would be to stop its waters. How impossible to separate the drops from the streams that have poured into it from either side. They come from the Red River, the Arkansas, the Ohio, and the Missouri. How impossible, too, to sift out, grain by grain, the sand washed down from the Alleghany or the Rocky Mountains. Yet how much more impossible it would be if character were the river, and habits the streams flowing into it!"

"We sow an act, we reap a habit; we sow a habit, we reap a character."

"An action becomes a habit. A habit becomes character."

While correct habits depend largely on self-discipline, and often on self-denial, bad habits, like weeds, spring up, unaided and untrained, to choke the plants of virtue and as with Canada thistles, allowed to go to seed in a fair meadow, we may have "one day's seeding, ten years' weeding."

Good habits depend largely on self-discipline and often on self-denial. But bad habits spring up like weeds, without help or training, and choke the plants of virtue. Like Canada thistles allowed to go to seed in a beautiful meadow, they may mean "one day's seeding, ten years' weeding."

We seldom see much change in people after they get to be twenty-five or thirty years of age, except in going further in the way they have started; but it is a great comfort to think that, when one is young, it is almost as easy to acquire a good habit as a bad one, and that it is possible to be hardened in goodness as well as in evil.

We seldom see people change much after they reach twenty-five or thirty, except to continue along the path they have chosen. But it is a great comfort to know that young people can form good habits almost as easily as bad ones. They can become firmly set in goodness as well as in evil.

Take good care of the first twenty years of your life, and you may hope that the last twenty will take good care of you.

Take good care of the first twenty years of your life, and you may hope the last twenty will take good care of you.

A writer on the history of Staffordshire tells of an idiot who, living near a town clock, and always amusing himself by counting the hour of the day whenever the clock struck, continued to strike and count the hour correctly without its aid, when at one time it happened to be injured by an accident.

A writer on the history of Staffordshire tells of an idiot who lived near a town clock. He always amused himself by counting the hours whenever the clock struck. Once, the clock was damaged in an accident. Even without its help, he continued to strike and count the hours correctly.

Dr. Johnson had acquired the habit of touching every post he passed in the street; and, if he missed one, he was uneasy, irritable, and nervous till he went back and touched the neglected post.

Dr. Johnson had a habit of touching every post he passed in the street. If he missed one, he felt uneasy, irritable, and nervous until he went back and touched it.

"Even thought is but a habit."

"Even thinking is just a habit."

Heredity is a man's habit transmitted to his offspring.

Heredity is a man's habit passed down to his children.

A special study of hereditary drunkenness has been made by Professor Pellman of Bonn University, Germany. He thus traced the careers of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren in all parts of the present German Empire, until he was able to present tabulated biographies of the hundreds descended from some original drunkard. Notable among the persons described by Professor Pellman is Frau Ada Jurke, who was born in 1740, and was a drunkard, a thief, and a tramp for the last forty years of her life, which ended in 1800. Her descendants numbered 834, of whom 709 were traced in local records from youth to death. One hundred and six of the 709 were born out of wedlock. There were 144 beggars, and 62 more who lived from charity. Of the women, 181 led disreputable lives. There were in the family 76 convicts, 7 of whom were sentenced for murder. In a period of some seventy-five years, this one family rolled up a bill of costs in almshouses, prisons, and correctional institutions amounting to at least 5,000,000 marks, or about $1,250,000.

Professor Pellman of Bonn University, Germany, made a special study of hereditary drunkenness. He traced the lives of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren throughout the present German Empire. He was thus able to compile biographies of hundreds of descendants of an original drunkard. Among the people Professor Pellman described was Frau Ada Jurke, who was born in 1740. During the last forty years of her life, she was a drunkard, a thief, and a wanderer. She died in 1800. She had 834 descendants, 709 of whom were traced through local records from youth to death. Of those 709, 106 were born out of wedlock. There were 144 beggars, and 62 more lived on charity. Of the women, 181 led disreputable lives. The family included 76 convicts, 7 of whom were sentenced for murder. Over about seventy-five years, this one family cost almshouses, prisons, and correctional institutions at least 5,000,000 marks, or about $1,250,000.

Isaac Watts had a habit of rhyming. His father grew weary of it, and set out to punish him, which made the boy cry out:—

Isaac Watts had a habit of rhyming. His father grew tired of it and set out to punish him. This made the boy cry out:

A minister had a bad habit of exaggeration, which seriously impaired his usefulness. His brethren came to expostulate. With extreme humiliation over this fault as they set it forth, he said, "Brethren, I have long mourned over this fault, and I have shed barrels of tears because of it." They gave him up as incorrigible.

A minister had a bad habit of exaggerating, which seriously impaired his usefulness. His fellow ministers came to talk to him about it. As they explained the fault, he felt deeply ashamed. He said, "Brothers, I have long grieved over this fault, and I have shed barrels of tears because of it." They gave up on him as beyond correction.

Men carelessly or playfully get into habits of speech or act which become so natural that they speak or act as they do not intend, to their discomfiture. Professor Phelps told of some Andover students, who, for sport, interchanged the initial consonants of adjacent words. "But," said he, "retribution overtook them. On a certain morning, when one of them was leading the devotions, he prayed the Lord to 'have mercy on us, feak and weeble sinners.'" The habit had come to possess him.

People carelessly or playfully develop habits of speech or behavior that become second nature. Then they say or do things they never intended, to their embarrassment. Professor Phelps told of some Andover students who, for fun, switched the initial consonants of words next to each other. "But," he said, "they paid the price. One morning, while one of them was leading the devotions, he prayed for the Lord to 'have mercy on us, feak and weeble sinners.'" The habit had taken hold of him.

Many speakers have undesirable habits of utterance or gesture. Some are continually applying the hand to some part of the face, the chin, the whiskers; some give the nose a peck with thumb and forefinger; others have the habit characterized as,—

Many speakers have undesirable habits of speech or gesture. Some constantly touch their face, chin, or beard. Some pinch their nose with their thumb and forefinger. Others have a habit described as:

"We are continually denying that we have habits which we have been practising all our lives," says Beecher. "Here is a man who has lived forty or fifty years; and a chance shot sentence or word lances him, and reveals to him a trait which he has always possessed, but which, until now, he had not the remotest idea that he possessed. For forty or fifty years he has been fooling himself about a matter as plain as the nose on his face."

“We constantly deny having habits we have practiced all our lives,” says Beecher. “Here is a man who has lived forty or fifty years. A chance remark or word stings him and reveals a trait he has always had. Until now, he had no idea he possessed it. For forty or fifty years, he has fooled himself about something as plain as the nose on his face.”

Had the angels been consulted, whether to create man, with this principle introduced, that, if a man did a thing once, if would be easier the second time, and at length would be done without effort, they would have said, "Create!"

If the angels had been asked whether to create man with this principle, they would have said, "Create!" The principle was that if a man did something once, it would be easier the second time, and eventually he would do it without effort.

Remember that habit is an arrangement, a principle of human nature, which we must use to increase the efficiency and ease of our work in life.

Remember that habit is a principle of human nature. We must use it to make our work in life easier and more efficient.

"Make sobriety a habit, and intemperance will be hateful; make prudence a habit, and reckless profligacy will be as contrary to the course of nature in the child, or in the adult, as the most atrocious crimes are to any of us."

"Make sobriety a habit, and excessive drinking will become hateful. Make caution a habit, and reckless wastefulness will seem unnatural to a child or adult. It will seem as unnatural as the most terrible crimes do to any of us."

Out of hundreds of replies from successful men as to the probable cause of failure, "bad habits" was in almost every one.

Hundreds of successful men were asked about the likely cause of failure. Almost every reply mentioned "bad habits".

How easy it is to be nobody; it is the simplest thing in the world to drift down the stream, into bad company, into the saloon; just a little beer, just a little gambling, just a little bad company, just a little killing of time, and the work is done.

How easy it is to be a nobody. Nothing is simpler than drifting downstream into bad company and into a bar. Just a little beer, a little gambling, a little bad company, a little wasted time, and the work is done.

New Orleans is from five to fifteen feet below high water in the Mississippi River. The only protection to the city from the river is the levee. In May, 1883, a small break was observed in the levee, and the water was running through. A few bags of sand or loads of dirt would have stopped the water at first; but it was neglected for a few hours, and the current became so strong that all efforts to stop it were fruitless. A reward of five hundred thousand dollars was offered to any man who would stop it; but it was too late—it could not be done.

New Orleans is five to fifteen feet below the Mississippi River’s high-water level. The levee is the city’s only protection from the river. In May 1883, a small break appeared in the levee, and water began to flow through it. At first, a few bags of sand or loads of dirt would have stopped the water. But the break was neglected for a few hours. The current grew so strong that all efforts to stop it failed. A reward of five hundred thousand dollars was offered to anyone who could stop it. But it was too late. The water could not be stopped.

Beware of "small sins" and "white lies."

Watch out for "small sins" and "white lies."

A man of experience says: "There are four good habits,—punctuality, accuracy, steadiness, and dispatch. Without the first, time is wasted; without the second, mistakes the most hurtful to our own credit and interest, and those of others, may be committed; without the third, nothing can be well done; and without the fourth, opportunities of great advantage are lost, which it is impossible to recall."

An experienced man says: "There are four good habits: punctuality, accuracy, steadiness, and speed. Without punctuality, time is wasted. Without accuracy, mistakes may seriously harm our reputations and interests, as well as those of others. Without steadiness, nothing can be done well. Without speed, opportunities for great advantage are lost, and they can never be recovered."

Abraham Lincoln gained his clear precision of statement of propositions by practise, and Wendell Phillips his wonderful English diction by always thinking and conversing in excellent style.

Abraham Lincoln learned to express ideas clearly and precisely through practice. Wendell Phillips developed his wonderful English style by always thinking and speaking with care.

"Family customs exercise a vast influence over the world. Children go forth from the parent-nest, spreading the habits they have imbibed over every phase of society. These can easily be traced to their sources."

"Family customs have a great influence on the world. Children leave home and spread the habits they learned throughout society. These habits can easily be traced back to their source."

"To be sure, this is only a trifle in itself; but, then, the manner in which I do every trifling thing is of very great consequence, because it is just in these little things that I am forming my business habits. I must see to it that I do not fail here, even if this is only a small task."

"Of course, this task is only a small thing in itself. But how I do every small thing matters a great deal, because these little things are where I form my business habits. I must make sure I do not fail here, even if this is only a small task."

"A physical habit is like a tree grown crooked. You can not go to the orchard, and take hold of a tree grown thus, and straighten it, and say, 'Now keep straight!' and have it obey you. What can you do? You can drive down a stake, and bind the tree to it, bending it back a little, and scarifying the bark on one side. And if, after that, you bend it back a little more every month, keeping it taut through the season, and from season to season, at length you will succeed in making it permanently straight. You can straighten it, but you can not do it immediately; you must take one or two years for it."

"A physical habit is like a tree that has grown crooked. You cannot go to an orchard, grab a crooked tree, and straighten it. You cannot say, 'Now stay straight!' and expect it to obey. What can you do? You can drive a stake into the ground and tie the tree to it. Bend the tree back a little and score the bark on one side. Then bend it back a little more each month, keeping it taut through each season. If you keep doing this from season to season, you will eventually make the tree permanently straight. You can straighten it, but not immediately. You must take one or two years to do it."

Sir George Staunton visited a man in India who had committed murder; and in order not only to save his life, but what was of much greater consequence to him, his caste, he had submitted to a terrible penalty,—to sleep for seven years on a bed, the entire top of which was studded with iron points, as sharp as they could be without penetrating the flesh. Sir George saw him during the fifth year of his sentence. His skin then was like the hide of a rhinoceros; and he could sleep comfortably on his bed of thorns, and he said that at the end of the seven years he thought he should use the same bed from choice. What a vivid parable of a sinful life! Sin, at first a bed of thorns, after a time becomes comfortable through the deadening of moral sensibility.

Sir George Staunton visited a man in India who had committed murder. To save his life and his caste, the man had accepted a terrible penalty. His caste was far more important to him than his life. For seven years, he had to sleep on a bed covered with iron points. The points were as sharp as they could be without piercing his flesh. Sir George saw him in the fifth year of his sentence. By then, his skin was like a rhinoceros’s hide, and he could sleep comfortably on his bed of thorns. He said that when the seven years ended, he thought he would choose to keep using the same bed. What a vivid parable of a sinful life! Sin is a bed of thorns at first, but it becomes comfortable as a person’s moral sensitivity grows dull.

When the suspension bridge over Niagara River was to be erected, the question was, how to get the cable over. With a favoring wind a kite was elevated, which alighted on the opposite shores. To its insignificant string a cord was attached, which was drawn over, then a rope, then a larger one, then a cable; finally the great bridge was completed, connecting the United States with Canada.

When the suspension bridge over Niagara River was being built, the question was how to get the cable across. With a favorable wind, a kite was flown across and landed on the opposite shore. A cord was attached to its thin string and pulled across. Then a rope was pulled across, followed by a larger rope and then a cable. Finally, the great bridge was completed, connecting the United States with Canada.

"Launch your bark on the Niagara River," said John B. Gough; "it is bright, smooth, and beautiful, Down the stream you glide on your pleasure excursion. Suddenly some one cries out from the bank, 'Young men, ahoy!' 'What is it?'

"Launch your boat on the Niagara River," said John B. Gough. "The river is bright, smooth, and beautiful. You glide downstream on a pleasure trip. Suddenly someone calls out from the bank, 'Young men, ahoy!' 'What is it?'

"'The rapids are below you.' 'Ha! ha! we have heard of the rapids, but we are not such fools as to get there. If we go too fast, then we shall up with the helm, and steer to the shore. Then on, boys, don't be alarmed—there is no danger.'

"'The rapids are downstream.' 'Ha! ha! We've heard of the rapids, but we're not foolish enough to get there. If we go too fast, we'll turn the helm and steer to shore. So on we go, boys. Don't be alarmed. There's no danger.'

"'Young men, ahoy there!' 'What is it?' 'The rapids are below you!' 'Ha! ha! we will laugh and quaff. What care we for the future? No man ever saw it. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. We will enjoy life while we may, will catch pleasure as it flies. There's time enough to steer out of danger.'

"'Young men, hello there!' 'What is it?' 'The rapids are ahead of you!' 'Ha! Ha! We will laugh and drink. Why should we care about the future? No one has ever seen it. Today has enough troubles of its own. We will enjoy life while we can and seize pleasure as it comes. There's plenty of time to steer away from danger.'

"'Young men, ahoy!' 'What is it?' 'Beware! Beware! The rapids are below you!'

"'Hey, young men!' 'What is it?' 'Watch out! Watch out! The rapids are downstream!'"

"Now you see the water foaming all around. See how fast you pass that point! Up with the helm! Now turn! Pull hard! Quick, quick! Pull for your lives! Pull till the blood starts from the nostrils, and the veins stand like whip-cords upon the brow! Set the mast in the socket! hoist the sail—ah! ah! it is too late! Shrieking, cursing, howling, blaspheming, over you go.

"Now you see the water foaming all around you. See how fast you pass that point! Raise the helm! Now turn! Pull hard! Quick, quick! Pull for your lives! Pull until blood flows from your nostrils and the veins on your forehead stand out like cords! Put the mast in its socket! Hoist the sail! Ah! Ah! It is too late! Shrieking, cursing, howling, and blaspheming, you go over.

"Thousands go over the rapids every year, through the power of habit, crying all the while, 'When I find out that it is injuring me, I will give it up!'"

"Every year, thousands are swept over the rapids by the power of habit. All the while, they cry, 'When I find out it is hurting me, I will give it up!'"

A community is often surprised and shocked at some crime. The man was seen on the street yesterday, or in his store, but he showed no indication that he would commit such crime to-day. Yet the crime committed to-day is but a regular and natural sequence of what the man did yesterday and the day before. It was but a result of the fearful momentum of all his past habits.

A community is often surprised and shocked by a crime. People saw the man on the street or in his store yesterday. But he showed no sign that he would commit such a crime today. Yet today's crime is simply a natural result of what the man did yesterday and the day before. It resulted from the frightening momentum of all his past habits.

A painter once wanted a picture of innocence, and drew from life the likeness of a child at prayer. The little suppliant was kneeling by his mother. The palms of his hands were reverently pressed together, and his mild blue eyes were upturned with the expression of devotion and peace. The portrait was much prized by the painter, who hung it up on his wall, and called it "Innocence." Years passed away, and the artist became an old man. Still the picture hung there. He had often thought of painting a counterpart,—the picture of guilt,—but had not found the opportunity. At last he effected his purpose by paying a visit to a neighboring jail. On the damp floor of his cell lay a wretched culprit heavily ironed. Wasted was his body, and hollow his eyes; vice was visible in his face. The painter succeeded admirably; and the portraits were hung side by side for "Innocence" and "Guilt." The two originals of the pictures were discovered to be one and the same person,—first, in the innocence of childhood! second, in the degradation of guilt and sin and evil habits.

A painter once wanted to paint a picture of innocence, so he painted a child at prayer. The little boy knelt beside his mother, with his palms pressed reverently together. His gentle blue eyes looked upward with an expression of devotion and peace. The painter treasured the portrait, hung it on his wall, and called it "Innocence." Years passed, and the artist grew old. The picture still hung on his wall. He had often thought of painting a companion picture of guilt, but he had not found the opportunity. At last, he set out to paint it by visiting a nearby jail. A miserable prisoner lay on the damp floor of his cell, weighed down by heavy chains. His body was wasted, his eyes were hollow, and his face showed the marks of vice. The painter succeeded admirably, and the portraits were hung side by side as "Innocence" and "Guilt." The people in the two pictures were discovered to be one and the same person. First, he had known the innocence of childhood. Then he had fallen into the degradation of guilt, sin, and evil habits.

Will-power can be so educated that it will focus the thought upon the bright side of things, upon objects which lift and elevate. Habits of contentment and goodness may be formed the same as any others.

Willpower can be trained to focus your thoughts on the bright side of things and on what inspires and uplifts you. Habits of contentment and goodness can be formed just like any other habits.

Walking upon the quarter-deck of a vessel, though at first intolerably confining, becomes by custom so agreeable to a sailor that on shore he often hems himself within the same bounds. Lord Kames tells of a man who, having relinquished the sea for a country life, reared an artificial mount, with a level summit, resembling a quarter-deck not only in shape, but in size, where he generally walked. When Franklin was superintending the erection of some forts on the frontier, as a defense against the Indians, he slept at night in a blanket on a hard floor; and, on his first return to civilized life, he could hardly sleep in a bed. Captain Ross and his crew, having been accustomed, during their polar wanderings, to lie on the frozen snow or a bare rock, afterwards found the accommodations of a whaler too luxurious for them, and the captain exchanged his hammock for a chair.

At first, walking on a ship’s quarter-deck feels unbearably confining. But a sailor becomes so used to it that he often walks within the same limits on shore. Lord Kames tells of a man who gave up the sea for life in the country. The man built an artificial mound with a flat top, matching a quarter-deck in both shape and size. He usually walked there. When Franklin was overseeing the construction of forts on the frontier to defend against the Indians, he slept on a hard floor with a blanket. When he first returned to civilized life, he could hardly sleep in a bed. During their polar travels, Captain Ross and his crew grew accustomed to sleeping on frozen snow or bare rock. Afterward, they found the accommodations on a whaling ship too luxurious, and the captain exchanged his hammock for a chair.

Two sailors, who had been drinking, took a boat off to their ship. They rowed but made no progress; and presently each began to accuse the other of not working hard enough. Lustily they plied the oars, but after another hour's work still found themselves no farther advanced. By this time they had become tolerably sober; and one of them, looking over the side, said to the other, "Why, Tom, we haven't pulled the anchor up yet." And thus it is with those who are anchored to something of which they are not conscious, perhaps, but which impedes their efforts, even though they do their very best.

Two sailors who had been drinking took a boat out to their ship. They rowed but made no progress. Soon, each began accusing the other of not working hard enough. They rowed vigorously, but after another hour, they still had not gotten any farther. By then, they had become fairly sober. One of them looked over the side and said to the other, "Why, Tom, we haven't pulled the anchor up yet." The same is true of people who are anchored to something they may not even be aware of. Even when they do their very best, that hidden anchor holds them back.

"A youth thoughtless, when all the happiness of his home forever depends on the chances or the passions of an hour!" exclaims Ruskin. "A youth thoughtless, when his every act is a foundation-stone of future conduct, and every imagination a fountain of life or death! Be thoughtless in any after years, rather than now,—though, indeed, there is only one place where a man may be nobly thoughtless,—his deathbed. No thinking should ever be left to be done there."

"A young person, thoughtless, when all the happiness of his home forever depends on the chances or passions of an hour!" exclaims Ruskin. "A young person, thoughtless, when his every act lays a foundation for his future behavior! Every thought is a source of life or death! Be thoughtless in later years rather than now. Though, in truth, there is only one place where a man may be thoughtless with dignity: his deathbed. He should have no thinking left to do there."

Sir James Paget tells us that a practised musician can play on the piano at the rate of twenty-four notes a second. For each note a nerve current must be transmitted from the brain to the fingers, and from the fingers to the brain. Each note requires three movements of a finger, the bending down and raising up, and at least one lateral, making no less than seventy-two motions in a second, each requiring a distinct effort of the will, and directed unerringly with a certain speed, and a certain force, to a certain place.

Sir James Paget tells us that a skilled musician can play twenty-four notes a second on the piano. For each note, a nerve signal must travel from the brain to the fingers and back again. Each note requires three finger movements: bending down, raising up, and at least one sideways movement. That makes at least seventy-two movements a second. Each requires a separate act of will and is directed without error to a particular place, at a particular speed and with a particular force.

Some can do this easily, and be at the same time busily employed in intelligent conversation. Thus, by obeying the law of habit until repetition has formed a second nature, we are able to pass the technique of life almost wholly over to the nerve centers, leaving our minds free to act or enjoy.

Some people can do this easily while also carrying on an intelligent conversation. By following the law of habit, we can repeat actions until they become second nature. In this way, we can leave the mechanics of life almost entirely to the nerve centers. This leaves our minds free to act or enjoy.

All through our lives the brain is constantly educating different parts of the body to form habits which will work automatically from reflex action, and thus is delegated to the nervous system a large part of life's duties. This is nature's wonderful economy to release the brain from the drudgery of individual acts, and leave it free to command all its forces for higher service.

Throughout our lives, the brain constantly trains different parts of the body to form habits that work automatically through reflexes. In this way, the nervous system takes over a large part of life's duties. This is nature's wonderful way of freeing the brain from the drudgery of individual actions. It leaves the brain free to direct all its powers toward higher service.

Man's life-work is a masterpiece or a botch, according as each little habit has been perfectly or carelessly formed.

A person's life's work is either a masterpiece or a failure, depending on whether each small habit was formed perfectly or carelessly.

It is said that if you invite one of the devil's children to your home the whole family will follow. So one bad habit seems to have a relationship with all the others. For instance, the one habit of negligence, slovenliness, makes it easier to form others equally bad, until the entire character is honeycombed by the invasion of a family of bad habits.

People say that if you invite one of the devil's children into your home, the whole family will follow. In the same way, one bad habit seems to be connected to all the others. For example, carelessness or sloppiness makes it easier to form other habits that are just as bad. Eventually, a whole family of bad habits can invade and weaken your entire character.

A man is often shocked when he suddenly discovers that he is considered a liar. He never dreamed of forming such a habit; but the little misrepresentations to gain some temporary end, had, before he was aware of it, made a beaten track in the nerve and brain tissue, until lying has become almost a physical necessity. He thinks he can easily overcome this habit, but he will not. He is bound to it with cords of steel; and only by painful, watchful, and careful repetition of the exact truth, with a special effort of the will-power at each act, can he form a counter trunk-line in the nerve and brain tissue. Society is often shocked by the criminal act of a man who has always been considered upright and true. But, if they could examine the habit-map in his nervous mechanism and brain, they would find the beginnings of a path leading directly to his deed, in the tiny repetitions of what he regarded as trivial acts. All expert and technical education is built upon the theory that these trunk-lines of habit become more and more sensitive to their accustomed stimuli, and respond more and more readily.

A man is often shocked when he suddenly discovers that others consider him a liar. He never imagined he would form such a habit. But his little misrepresentations, made for some temporary advantage, have worn a path in his nerves and brain before he knows it. Lying has become almost a physical necessity. He thinks he can easily overcome the habit, but he will not. He is bound to it with cords of steel. Only by repeatedly telling the exact truth, with painful care and vigilance, can he form a new pathway in his nerves and brain. Each act requires a special effort of will. Society is often shocked when a man always thought upright and truthful commits a crime. But if people could examine the map of habits in his nerves and brain, they would find the beginnings of a path leading directly to his crime. It began with tiny repetitions of acts he regarded as trivial. All expert and technical education rests on a theory about these main pathways of habit. They become more and more sensitive to the stimuli they are used to, and they respond more and more readily.

We are apt to overlook the physical basis of habit. Every repetition of an act makes us more likely to perform that act, and discovers in our wonderful mechanism a tendency to perpetual repetition, whose facility increases in exact proportion to the repetition. Finally the original act becomes voluntary from a natural reaction.

We often overlook the physical basis of habit. Every time we repeat an act, we become more likely to do it again. This reveals a tendency in our remarkable physical makeup toward constant repetition. The more often we repeat an act, the easier it becomes, in exact proportion to the repetition. Finally, the original act becomes voluntary through a natural reaction.

It is cruel to teach the vicious that they can, by mere force of will-power, turn "about face," and go in the other direction, without explaining to them the scientific process of character-building, through habit-formation. What we do to-day is practically what we did yesterday; and, in spite of resolutions, unless carried out in this scientific way, we shall repeat to-morrow what we have done to-day. How unfortunate that the science of habit-forming is not known by mothers, and taught in our schools, colleges, and universities! It is a science compared with which other departments of education sink into insignificance. The converted man is not always told that the great battle is yet before him; that he must persistently, painfully, prayerfully, and with all the will-power he possesses, break up the old habits, and lay counter lines which will lead to the temple of virtue. He is not told that, in spite of all his efforts, in some unguarded moment, some old switch may be left open, some old desire may flash along the line, and that, possibly before he is aware of it, he may find himself yielding to the old temptation which he had supposed to be conquered forever.

It is cruel to teach people with bad habits that willpower alone can make them turn "about face" and go in the other direction. They must also be told about the scientific process of building character through forming habits. What we do today is practically the same as what we did yesterday. Despite our resolutions, we will repeat today’s actions tomorrow unless we put those resolutions into practice through this scientific process. How unfortunate that mothers do not know the science of forming habits, and that schools, colleges, and universities do not teach it! Other areas of education are insignificant by comparison. A person who has been converted is not always told that the great battle still lies ahead. He must persistently, painfully, and prayerfully break his old habits, using all the willpower he possesses. He must lay new tracks leading in the opposite direction, toward the temple of virtue. He is not told that, despite all his efforts, an old switch may be left open in an unguarded moment. An old desire may flash along the track. Before he knows it, he may find himself giving in to an old temptation he thought he had conquered forever.

An old soldier was walking home with a beefsteak in one hand and a basket of eggs in the other, when some one yelled, "Halt! Attention!" Instantly the veteran came to a stand; and, as his arms took the position of "attention," eggs and meat went tumbling into the street, the accustomed nerves responding involuntarily to the old stimulus.

An old soldier was walking home with a steak in one hand and a basket of eggs in the other. Someone yelled, "Halt! Attention!" The veteran immediately stopped and put his arms at his sides in the position of "attention." The eggs and meat tumbled into the street. His nerves had responded involuntarily to the familiar command.

Paul evidently understood the force of habit. "I find, then," he declares, "the law, that to me who would do good, evil is present. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man; but I see a different law in my members, warring against the law in my mind, and bringing me into captivity, under the law of sin, which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death!" He referred to the ancient custom of binding a murderer face to face with the dead body of his victim, until suffocated by its stench and dissolution.

Paul clearly understood the power of habit. "I find, then," he declares, "that when I want to do good, evil is present. Deep inside, I delight in God's law. But I see a different law at work in my body. It fights against the law in my mind and holds me captive under the law of sin in my body. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?" He was referring to an ancient custom of binding a murderer face to face with his victim's dead body. The murderer remained bound until he suffocated from the stench and decay.

"I would give a world, if I had it," said an unfortunate wretch, "to be a true man; yet in twenty-four hours I may be overcome and disgraced with a shilling's worth of sin."

"I would give a world, if I had one, to be a true man," said a miserable man. "Yet within twenty-four hours, I may be overcome and disgraced by a shilling's worth of sin."