In Love With Accuracy

Accuracy is the twin brother of honesty.—C. SIMMONS.

Accuracy is the twin brother of honesty. C. SIMMONS.

Genius is the infinite art of taking pains.—CARLYLE.

Genius is the art of taking infinite care. CARLYLE.

I hate a thing done by halves. If it be right, do it boldly; if it be wrong, leave it undone.—GILPIN.

I hate doing things halfway. If something is right, do it boldly. If it is wrong, don't do it. GILPIN.

If a man can write a better book, preach a better sermon, or make a better mouse-trap than his neighbor, though he build his house in the woods, the world will make a beaten path to his door.—EMERSON.

If a man writes a better book, preaches a better sermon, or makes a better mousetrap than his neighbor, the world will beat a path to his door. It will do so even if he builds his house in the woods. Emerson.

"Sir, it is a watch which I have made and regulated myself," said George Graham of London to a customer who asked how far he could depend upon its keeping correct time; "take it with you wherever you please. If after seven years you come back to see me, and can tell me there has been a difference of five minutes, I will return you your money." Seven years later the gentleman returned from India. "Sir," said he, "I bring you back your watch."

"Sir, I made and adjusted this watch myself," George Graham of London told a customer. The customer had asked how reliably it would keep time. "Take it wherever you like. If you come back in seven years and tell me it has gained or lost five minutes, I will refund your money." Seven years later, the gentleman returned from India. "Sir," he said, "I have brought your watch back."

"I remember our conditions," said Graham. "Let me see the watch. Well, what do you complain of?" "Why," said the man, "I have had it seven years, and there is a difference of more than five minutes."

"I remember our agreement," said Graham. "Let me see the watch. Well, what is your complaint?" "Well," said the man, "I've had it for seven years, and it's off by more than five minutes."

"Indeed! In that case I return you your money." "I would not part with my watch," said the man, "for ten times the sum I paid for it." "And I would not break my word for any consideration," replied Graham; so he paid the money and took the watch, which he used as a regulator.

“Really! In that case, I’ll return your money.” “I wouldn’t give up my watch for ten times what I paid for it,” the man said. “And I wouldn’t break my word for anything,” Graham replied. So he paid the money and took the watch, which he used as a regulator.

He learned his trade of Tampion, the most exquisite mechanic in London, if not in the world, whose name on a timepiece was considered proof positive of its excellence. When a person once asked him to repair a watch upon which his name was fraudulently engraved, Tampion smashed it with a hammer, and handed the astonished customer one of his own master-pieces, saying, "Sir, here is a watch of my making."

He learned his trade from Tampion, the finest mechanic in London, if not the world. Tampion's name on a timepiece was considered certain proof of its excellence. Once, someone asked him to repair a watch that had his name falsely engraved on it. Tampion smashed the watch with a hammer and handed the astonished customer one of his own masterpieces. He said, "Sir, here is a watch I made."

Graham invented the "compensating mercury pendulum," the "dead escapement," and the "orrery," none of which have been much improved since. The clock which he made for Greenwich Observatory has been running one hundred and fifty years, yet it needs regulating but once in fifteen months. Tampion and Graham lie in Westminster Abbey, because of the accuracy of their work.

Graham invented the "compensating mercury pendulum," the "dead escapement," and the "orrery." None have been much improved since. The clock he made for Greenwich Observatory has been running for 150 years. Yet it needs adjusting only once every fifteen months. Tampion and Graham are buried in Westminster Abbey because of the accuracy of their work.

To insure safety, a navigator must know how far he is from the equator, north or south, and how far east or west of some known point, as Greenwich, Paris, or Washington. He could be sure of this knowledge when the sun is shining, if he could have an absolutely accurate timekeeper; but such a thing has not yet been made. In the sixteenth century Spain offered a prize of a thousand crowns for the discovery of an approximately correct method of determining longitude. About two hundred years later the English government offered 5,000 pounds for a chronometer by which a ship six months from home could get her longitude within sixty miles; 7,500 pounds if within forty miles; 10,000 pounds if within thirty miles; and in another clause 20,000 pounds for correctness within thirty miles, a careless repetition.

To navigate safely, a navigator must know how far north or south of the equator he is. He must also know how far east or west he is from a known point, such as Greenwich, Paris, or Washington. When the sun was shining, he could be sure of these positions if he had an absolutely accurate timekeeper. But no such timekeeper has yet been made. In the sixteenth century, Spain offered a prize of a thousand crowns for an approximately accurate method of determining longitude. About two hundred years later, the English government offered 5,000 pounds for a chronometer that would help a ship determine its longitude within sixty miles after six months away from home. The government offered 7,500 pounds for accuracy within forty miles and 10,000 pounds for accuracy within thirty miles. Another clause offered 20,000 pounds for accuracy within thirty miles, a careless repetition.

The watchmakers of the world contested for the prizes, but 1761 came, and they had not been awarded. In that year John Harrison asked for a test of his chronometer. In a trip of one hundred and forty-seven days from Portsmouth to Jamaica and back, it varied less than two minutes, and only four seconds on the outward voyage. In a round trip of one hundred and fifty-six days to Barbadoes, the variation was only fifteen seconds. The 20,000 pounds was paid to the man who had worked and experimented for forty years, and whose hand was as exquisitely delicate in its movement as the mechanism of his chronometer.

Watchmakers from around the world competed for the prizes, but by 1761, none had been awarded. That year, John Harrison asked to have his chronometer tested. On a 147-day round trip from Portsmouth to Jamaica, it varied by less than two minutes. On the outward voyage, it varied by only four seconds. On a 156-day round trip to Barbadoes, it varied by only fifteen seconds. The £20,000 was paid to Harrison, who had worked and experimented for forty years. His hand moved as delicately as the mechanism of his chronometer.

"Make me as good a hammer as you know how," said a carpenter to the blacksmith in a New York village before the first railroad was built; "six of us have come to work on the new church, and I've left mine at home." "As good a one as I know how?" asked David Maydole, doubtfully, "but perhaps you don't want to pay for as good a one as I know how to make." "Yes, I do," said the carpenter, "I want a good hammer."

"Make me the best hammer you know how to make," a carpenter said to the blacksmith in a New York village. This was before the first railroad was built. "Six of us have come to work on the new church, and I left my hammer at home." "The best hammer I know how to make?" David Maydole asked doubtfully. "But perhaps you don't want to pay for the best hammer I can make." "Yes, I do," said the carpenter. "I want a good hammer."

It was indeed a good hammer that he received, the best, probably, that had ever been made. By means of a longer hole than usual, David had wedged the handle in its place so that the head could not fly off, a wonderful improvement in the eyes of the carpenter, who boasted of his prize to his companions. They all came to the shop next day, and each ordered just such a hammer. When the contractor saw the tools, he ordered two for himself, asking that they be made a little better than those of his men. "I can't make any better ones," said Maydole; "when I make a thing, I make it as well as I can, no matter whom it is for."

The hammer he received was indeed a good one, probably the best ever made. David had made a longer hole than usual and wedged the handle in place so the head could not fly off. The carpenter thought this was a wonderful improvement and boasted about his prize to his fellow workers. They all came to the shop the next day, and each ordered a hammer just like it. When the contractor saw the hammers, he ordered two for himself. He asked that they be made a little better than his men's hammers. "I can't make any better ones," said Maydole. "When I make something, I make it as well as I can, no matter who it's for."

The storekeeper soon ordered two dozen, a supply unheard of in his previous business career. A New York dealer in tools came to the village to sell his wares, and bought all the storekeeper had, and left a standing order for all the blacksmith could make. David might have grown very wealthy by making goods of the standard already attained; but throughout his long and successful life he never ceased to study still further to perfect his hammers in the minutest detail. They were usually sold without any warrant of excellence, the word "Maydole" stamped on the head being universally considered a guaranty of the best article the world could produce.

The storekeeper soon ordered two dozen, more than he had ever ordered before. A New York tool dealer came to the village to sell his goods. He bought all the hammers the storekeeper had and placed a standing order for all the blacksmith could make. David might have become very wealthy by making hammers at the standard he had already achieved. But throughout his long and successful life, he kept studying how to perfect his hammers in the smallest detail. They were usually sold without any guarantee of excellence. The word "Maydole" stamped on the head was universally regarded as a guarantee of the best product the world could make.

Character is power, and is the best advertisement in the world.

Character is power, and it is the best advertisement in the world.

"We have no secret," said the manager of an iron works employing thousands of men. "We always try to beat our last batch of rails. That is all the secret we've got, and we don't care who knows it."

"We have no secret," said the manager of an ironworks that employed thousands of men. "We always try to make better rails than the last batch. That's our only secret, and we don't care who knows it."

"I don't try to see how cheap a machine I can produce, but how good a machine," said the late John C. Whitin, of Northbridge, Mass., to a customer who complained of the high price of some cotton machinery. Business men soon learned what this meant; and when there was occasion to advertise any machinery for sale, New England cotton manufacturers were accustomed to state the number of years it had been in use and add, as an all-sufficient guaranty of Northbridge products, "Whitin make."

"I don't try to make a machine as cheaply as possible, but as well as possible," said the late John C. Whitin of Northbridge, Mass. He was speaking to a customer who complained about the high price of some cotton machinery. Businessmen soon learned what Whitin's approach meant. When New England cotton manufacturers advertised machinery for sale, they usually stated how many years it had been used. They also added "Whitin make," which was all the guarantee buyers needed for Northbridge products.

"Madam," said the sculptor H. K. Brown, as he admired a statue in alabaster made by a youth in his teens, "this boy has something in him." It was the figure of an Irishman who worked for the Ward family in Brooklyn years ago, and gave with minutest fidelity not merely the man's features and expression, but even the patches in his trousers, the rent in his coat, and the creases in his narrow-brimmed stove-pipe hat. Mr. Brown saw the statue at the house of a lady living at Newburgh-on-the-Hudson. Six years later he invited her brother, J. Q. A. Ward, to become a pupil in his studio. To-day the name of Ward is that of the most prosperous of all Americans sculptors.

"Madam," said the sculptor H. K. Brown, admiring an alabaster statue made by a teenager, "this boy has something in him." The statue showed an Irishman who had worked for the Ward family in Brooklyn years earlier. It captured not only the man's features and expression in minute detail, but also the patches in his trousers, the tear in his coat, and the creases in his narrow-brimmed stovepipe hat. Mr. Brown saw the statue at the home of a woman living in Newburgh-on-the-Hudson. Six years later, he invited her brother, J. Q. A. Ward, to study in his studio. Today, Ward is the most prosperous of all American sculptors.

"Paint me just as I am, warts and all," said Oliver Cromwell to the artist who, thinking to please the great man, had omitted a mole.

"Paint me just as I am, warts and all," Oliver Cromwell told the artist. Hoping to please the great man, the artist had left out a mole.

"I can remember when you blacked my father's shoes," said one member of the House of Commons to another in the heat of debate. "True enough," was the prompt reply, "but did I not black them well?"

"I remember when you polished my father's shoes," one member of the House of Commons said to another during a heated debate. "That's true," came the quick reply, "but didn't I polish them well?"

"It is easy to tell good indigo," said an old lady. "Just take a lump and put it into water, and if it is good, it will either sink or swim, I am not sure which; but never mind, you can try it for yourself."

"It's easy to tell good indigo," said an old lady. "Just put a lump in water. If it's good, it will either sink or float. I'm not sure which, but never mind. You can try it for yourself."

John B. Gough told of a colored preacher who, wishing his congregation to fresco the recess back of the pulpit, suddenly closed his Bible and said, "There, my bredren, de Gospel will not be dispensed with any more from dis pulpit till de collection am sufficient to fricassee dis abscess."

John B. Gough told a story about a colored preacher. The preacher wanted his congregation to paint a fresco in the recess behind the pulpit. He suddenly closed his Bible and said, "There, my brethren, the Gospel will not be dispensed with any more from this pulpit till the collection am sufficient to fricassee this abscess."

When troubled with deafness, Wellington consulted a celebrated physician, who put strong caustic into his ear, causing an inflammation which threatened his life. The doctor apologized, expressed great regrets, and said that the blunder would ruin him. "No," said Wellington, "I will never mention it." "But you will allow me to attend you, so that people will not withdraw their confidence?" "No," said the Iron Duke, "that would be lying."

When Wellington had trouble with deafness, he consulted a famous doctor. The doctor put a strong caustic substance in his ear, causing an inflammation that threatened Wellington's life. The doctor apologized, expressed deep regret, and said the mistake would ruin him. "No," said Wellington, "I will never mention it." "But will you let me continue treating you, so people won't lose confidence in me?" "No," said the Iron Duke, "that would be lying."

"Father," said a boy, "I saw an immense number of dogs—five hundred, I am sure—in our street, last night." "Surely not so many," said the father. "Well, there were one hundred, I'm quite sure." "It could not be," said the father; "I don't think there are a hundred dogs in our village." "Well, sir, it could not be less than ten: this I am quite certain of." "I will not believe you saw ten even," said the father; "for you spoke as confidently of seeing five hundred as of seeing this smaller number. You have contradicted yourself twice already, and now I cannot believe you." "Well, sir," said the disconcerted boy, "I saw at least our Dash and another one."

"Father," said a boy, "I saw a huge number of dogs in our street last night. I'm sure there were five hundred." "Surely there weren't that many," said his father. "Well, there were a hundred, I'm quite sure." "That couldn't be," said his father. "I don't think there are a hundred dogs in our village." "Well, sir, there couldn't have been fewer than ten. I'm quite certain of that." "I won't believe you saw even ten," said his father. "You were just as confident that you saw five hundred as you are that you saw ten. You've contradicted yourself twice already, and now I can't believe you." "Well, sir," said the embarrassed boy, "I saw at least our Dash and one other dog."

We condemn the boy for exaggerating in order to tell a wonderful story; but how much more truthful are they who "never saw it rain so before," or who call day after day the hottest of the summer or the coldest of the winter?

We criticize the boy for exaggerating to tell a wonderful story. But how much more truthful are people who say they have “never seen it rain so hard before”? Or those who call day after day the hottest of the summer or the coldest of the winter?

There is nothing which all mankind venerate and admire so much as simple truth, exempt from artifice, duplicity, and design. It exhibits at once a strength of character and integrity of purpose in which all are willing to confide.

Nothing is more respected and admired by all people than simple truth, free from tricks, deceit, and hidden motives. Simple truth shows strength of character and honesty of purpose that everyone is willing to trust.

To say nice things merely to avoid giving offense; to keep silent rather than speak the truth; to equivocate, to evade, to dodge, to say what is expedient rather than what is truthful; to shirk the truth; to face both ways; to exaggerate; to seem to concur with another's opinions when you do not; to deceive by a glance of the eye, a nod of the head, a smile, a gesture; to lack sincerity; to assume to know or think or feel what you do not—all these are but various manifestations of hollowness and falsehood resulting from want of accuracy.

You may say nice things just to avoid offending someone, or stay silent rather than tell the truth. You may be evasive, dodge questions, or say what is convenient rather than what is true. You may avoid the truth, try to have it both ways, or exaggerate. You may pretend to agree with someone when you do not. You may deceive with a glance, a nod, a smile, or a gesture. You may lack sincerity or pretend to know, think, or feel something you do not. All these are forms of hollowness and falsehood that result from a lack of accuracy.

We find no lying, no inaccuracy, no slipshod business in nature. Roses blossom and crystals form with the same precision of tint and angle to-day as in Eden on the morning of creation. The rose in the queen's garden is not more beautiful, more fragrant, more exquisitely perfect, than that which blooms and blushes unheeded amid the fern-decked brush by the roadside, or in some far-off glen where no human eye ever sees it. The crystal found deep in the earth is constructed with the same fidelity as that formed above ground. Even the tiny snowflake whose destiny is to become an apparently insignificant and a wholly unnoticed part of an enormous bank, assumes its shape of ethereal beauty as faithfully as though preparing for some grand exhibition. Planets rush with dizzy sweep through almost limitless courses, yet return to equinox or solstice at the appointed second, their very movement being "the uniform manifestation of the will of God."

We find no lies, no inaccuracy, and no careless work in nature. Roses bloom and crystals form with the same precise colors and angles they had in Eden on the morning of creation. The rose in the queen's garden is no more beautiful, fragrant, or exquisitely perfect than a rose blooming unnoticed among the ferns and brush beside a road. Nor is it more perfect than a rose in a distant valley where no human eye ever sees it. A crystal found deep in the earth is made with the same care as one formed above ground. Even a tiny snowflake may become an apparently insignificant and completely unnoticed part of a huge snowbank. Yet it takes on its shape of delicate beauty as faithfully as if it were preparing for a grand exhibition. Planets race through nearly limitless paths at dizzying speed. Yet they return to the equinox or solstice at the appointed second. Their very movement is "the uniform manifestation of the will of God."

The marvelous resources and growth of America have developed an unfortunate tendency to overstate, overdraw, and exaggerate. It seems strange that there should be so strong a temptation to exaggerate in a country where the truth is more wonderful than fiction. The positive is stronger than the superlative, but we ignore this fact in our speech. Indeed, it is really difficult to ascertain the exact truth in America. How many American fortunes are built on misrepresentation that is needless, for nothing else is half so strong as truth.

America’s marvelous resources and growth have encouraged an unfortunate tendency to overstate and exaggerate. It seems strange that people are so tempted to exaggerate in a country where truth is more wonderful than fiction. A simple statement is stronger than a superlative, but we ignore this fact when we speak. Indeed, it is difficult to find out the exact truth in America. How many American fortunes are built on needless misrepresentation, when nothing else is half as strong as truth.

"Does the devil lie?" was asked of Sir Thomas Browne. "No, for then even he could not exist." Truth is necessary to permanency.

"Does the devil lie?" someone asked Sir Thomas Browne. "No, because then even he could not exist." Truth is necessary for anything to last.

In Siberia a traveler found men who could see the satellites of Jupiter with the naked eye. These men have made little advance in civilization, yet they are far superior to us in their accuracy of vision. It is a curious fact that not a single astronomical discovery of importance has been made through a large telescope, the men who have advanced our knowledge of that science the most working with ordinary instruments backed by most accurately trained minds and eyes.

In Siberia, a traveler met men who could see Jupiter’s satellites with the naked eye. These men have made little progress in civilization, yet their eyesight is far more accurate than ours. Curiously, not a single important astronomical discovery has been made using a large telescope. The men who have advanced our knowledge of astronomy the most used ordinary instruments, supported by highly trained minds and eyes.

A double convex lens three feet in diameter is worth $60,000. Its adjustment is so delicate that the human hand is the only instrument thus far known suitable for giving the final polish, and one sweep of the hand more than is needed, Alvan Clark says, would impair the correctness of the glass. During the test of the great glass which he made for Russia, the workmen turned it a little with their hands. "Wait, boys, let it cool before making another trial," said Clark; "the poise is so delicate that the heat from your hands affects it."

A double convex lens three feet in diameter is worth $60,000. It must be shaped so precisely that only the human hand is known to be suitable for the final polish. Alvan Clark says that one extra sweep of the hand would make the glass less accurate. During a test of the great lens he made for Russia, the workers turned it slightly with their hands. "Wait, boys, let it cool before trying again," Clark said. "It is so delicately balanced that the heat from your hands affects it."

Mr. Clark's love of accuracy has made his name a synonym of exactness the world over.

Mr. Clark's love of accuracy has made his name synonymous with exactness around the world.

"No, I can't do it, it is impossible," said Webster, when urged to speak on a question soon to come up, toward the close of a Congressional session. "I am so pressed with other duties that I haven't time to prepare myself to speak upon that theme." "Ah, but, Mr. Webster, you always speak well upon any subject. You never fail." "But that's the very reason," said the orator, "because I never allow myself to speak upon any subject without first making that subject thoroughly my own. I haven't time to do that in this instance. Hence I must refuse."

"No, I can't do it. It's impossible," said Webster when urged to speak on an upcoming question near the end of a Congressional session. "I am so busy with other duties that I don't have time to prepare to speak on the subject." "Ah, but, Mr. Webster, you always speak well on any subject. You never fail." "But that's exactly why," said the speaker. "I never allow myself to speak on a subject without first mastering it thoroughly. I don't have time to do that in this case. So I must refuse."

Rufus Choate would plead before a shoemaker justice of the peace in a petty case with all the fervor and careful attention to detail with which he addressed the United States Supreme Court.

Rufus Choate argued a minor case before a justice of the peace who was a shoemaker. He gave it all the passion and careful attention to detail he brought to the United States Supreme Court.

"Whatever is right to do," said an eminent writer, "should be done with our best care, strength, and faithfulness of purpose; we have no scales by which we can weigh our faithfulness to duties, or determine their relative importance in God's eyes. That which seems a trifle to us may be the secret spring which shall move the issues of life and death."

"Whatever is right to do," said a distinguished writer, "should be done with our best care, strength, and faithful purpose. We have no way to measure our faithfulness to our duties or determine their relative importance in God's eyes. What seems like a small thing to us may be the hidden force that determines matters of life and death."

"There goes a man that has been in hell," the Florentines would say when Dante passed, so realistic seemed to them his description of the nether world.

"There goes a man who has been in hell," the Florentines would say when Dante passed. His description of the underworld seemed so realistic to them.

"There is only one real failure in life possible," said Canon Farrar; "and that is, not to be true to the best one knows."

"There is only one real failure in life," said Canon Farrar. "It is failing to live by the best you know."

"It is quite astonishing," Grove said of Beethoven, "to find the length of time during which some of the best known instrumental melodies remained in his thoughts till they were finally used, or the crude, vague, commonplace shape in which they were first written down. The more they are elaborated, the more fresh and spontaneous they become."

"It is quite astonishing," Grove said of Beethoven, "how long some of his best-known instrumental melodies stayed in his mind before he finally used them. It is also astonishing how crude, vague, and ordinary they were when he first wrote them down. The more he developed them, the fresher and more spontaneous they became."

Leonardo da Vinci would walk across Milan to change a single tint or the slightest detail in his famous picture of the Last Supper. "Every line was then written twice over by Pope," said his publisher Dodsley, of manuscript brought to be copied. Gibbon wrote his memoir nine times, and the first chapters of his history eighteen times. Of one of his works Montesquieu said to a friend: "You will read it in a few hours, but I assure you it has cost me so much labor that it has whitened my hair." He had made it his study by day and his dream by night, the alpha and omega of his aims and objects. "He who does not write as well as he can on every occasion," said George Ripley, "will soon form the habit of not writing well on any occasion."

Leonardo da Vinci would walk across Milan to change a single shade of color or the smallest detail in his famous painting of the Last Supper. Pope’s publisher, Dodsley, said of the manuscripts Pope brought to be copied: "Every line had been written twice over by Pope." Gibbon wrote his memoir nine times and the first chapters of his history eighteen times. Montesquieu said to a friend about one of his works: "You will read it in a few hours, but I assure you it has taken so much work that it has turned my hair white." He studied the work by day and dreamed of it by night. It was the beginning and end of everything he aimed for. George Ripley said, "Anyone who does not write as well as they can on every occasion will soon form the habit of not writing well on any occasion."

An accomplished entomologist thought he would perfect his knowledge by a few lessons under Professor Agassiz. The latter handed him a dead fish and told him to use his eyes. Two hours later he examined his new pupil, but soon remarked, "You haven't really looked at the fish yet. You'll have to try again." After a second examination he shook his head, saying, "You do not show that you can use your eyes." This roused the pupil to earnest effort, and he became so interested in things he had never noticed before that he did not see Agassiz when he came for the third examination. "That will do," said the great scientist. "I now see that you can use your eyes."

An accomplished entomologist wanted to improve his knowledge by taking a few lessons with Professor Agassiz. Agassiz handed him a dead fish and told him to use his eyes. Two hours later, he tested his new pupil, but soon said, "You haven't really looked at the fish yet. You'll have to try again." After testing him a second time, Agassiz shook his head and said, "You haven't shown that you can use your eyes." This prompted the pupil to try harder. He became so interested in things he had never noticed before that he didn't see Agassiz come to test him a third time. "That will do," said the great scientist. "I can see now that you can use your eyes."

Reynolds said he could go on retouching a picture forever.

Reynolds said he could keep retouching a painting forever.

The captain of a Nantucket whaler told the man at the wheel to steer by the North Star, but was awakened towards morning by a request for another star to steer by, as they had "sailed by the other."

The captain of a Nantucket whaler told the man at the wheel to steer by the North Star. But toward morning, the captain was awakened by a request for another star to steer by. They had "sailed by the other."

Stephen Girard was precision itself. He did not allow those in his employ to deviate in the slightest degree from his iron-clad orders. He believed that no great success is possible without the most rigid accuracy in everything. He did not vary from a promise in the slightest degree. People knew that his word was not "pretty good," but absolutely good. He left nothing to chance. Every detail of business was calculated and planned to a nicety. He was as exact and precise even in the smallest trifles as Napoleon; yet his brother merchants attributed his superior success to good luck.

Stephen Girard was precision itself. He never allowed his employees to stray in the slightest from his strict orders. He believed that great success was impossible without the strictest accuracy in everything. He never strayed from a promise in the slightest. People knew that his word was not "pretty good," but absolutely good. He left nothing to chance. He calculated and planned every business detail with great care. Like Napoleon, he was exact and precise even in the smallest matters. Yet his fellow merchants attributed his greater success to good luck.

In 1805 Napoleon broke up the great camp he had formed on the shores of the English Channel, and gave orders for his mighty host to defile toward the Danube. Vast and various as were the projects fermenting in his brain, however, he did not content himself with giving the order, and leaving the elaboration of its details to his lieutenants. To details and minutiae which inferior captains would have deemed too microscopic for their notice, he gave such exhaustive attention that before the bugle had sounded for the march he had planned the exact route which every regiment was to follow, the exact day and hour it was to leave that station, and the precise moment when it was to reach its destination. These details, so thoroughly premeditated, were carried out to the letter, and the result of that memorable march was the victory of Austerlitz, which sealed the fate of Europe for ten years.

In 1805 Napoleon broke up the great camp he had established on the shores of the English Channel. He ordered his mighty army to march toward the Danube. Many vast and varied plans were taking shape in his mind. Yet he did not simply give the order and leave the details to his lieutenants. He paid exhaustive attention to details that lesser commanders would have considered too small to notice. Before the bugle sounded for the march, he had planned the exact route each regiment would follow. He had also set the exact day and hour each regiment would leave its station. He even planned the precise moment each would reach its destination. These carefully planned details were carried out to the letter. The memorable march led to victory at Austerlitz, which sealed the fate of Europe for ten years.

When a noted French preacher speaks in Notre Dame, the scholars of Paris throng the cathedral to hear his fascinating, eloquent, polished discourses. This brilliant finish is the result of most patient work, as he delivers but five or six sermons a year.

When a noted French preacher speaks at Notre Dame, Paris scholars crowd the cathedral to hear his captivating, eloquent, polished sermons. This brilliant polish is the result of painstaking work. He delivers only five or six sermons a year.

When Sir Walter Scott visited a ruined castle about which he wished to write, he wrote in a notebook the separate names of grasses and wild flowers growing near, saying that only by such means can a writer be natural.

When Sir Walter Scott visited a ruined castle he wanted to write about, he noted the names of individual grasses and wildflowers growing nearby. He said that only by doing this could a writer sound natural.

The historian, Macaulay, never allowed a sentence to stand until it was as good as he could make it.

The historian Macaulay never left a sentence until it was as good as he could make it.

Besides his scrapbooks, Garfield had a large case of some fifty pigeonholes, labeled "Anecdotes," "Electoral Laws and Commissions," "French Spoliation," "General Politics," "Geneva Award," "Parliamentary Decisions," "Public Men," "State Politics," "Tariff," "The Press," "United States History," etc.; every valuable hint he could get being preserved in the cold exactness of black and white. When he chose to make careful preparation on a subject, no other speaker could command so great an array of facts. Accurate people are methodical people, and method means character.

Besides his scrapbooks, Garfield had a large case with about fifty compartments. They were labeled "Anecdotes," "Electoral Laws and Commissions," "French Spoliation," "General Politics," "Geneva Award," "Parliamentary Decisions," "Public Men," "State Politics," "Tariff," "The Press," "United States History," and so on. He preserved every valuable hint he could find in the precise clarity of black and white. When he chose to prepare carefully on a subject, no other speaker could draw on such a wealth of facts. Accurate people are methodical people, and being methodical shows character.

"Am offered 10,000 bushels wheat on your account at $1.00. Shall I buy, or is it too high?" telegraphed a San Francisco merchant to one in Sacramento. "No price too high," came back over the wire instead of "No. Price too high," as was intended. The omission of a period cost the Sacramento dealer $1,000. How many thousands have lost their wealth or lives, and how many frightful accidents have occurred through carelessness in sending messages!

A San Francisco merchant telegraphed a Sacramento merchant: "I've been offered 10,000 bushels of wheat for you at $1.00. Should I buy, or is the price too high?" The reply came back as "No price too high" instead of "No. Price too high," as intended. The missing period cost the Sacramento dealer $1,000. How many thousands have lost their wealth or lives, and how many terrible accidents have happened because of carelessness in sending messages!

"The accurate boy is always the favored one," said President Tuttle. "Those who employ men do not wish to be on the constant lookout, as though they were rogues or fools. If a carpenter must stand at his journeyman's elbow to be sure his work is right, or if a cashier must run over his bookkeeper's columns, he might as well do the work himself as employ another to do it in that way; and it is very certain that the employer will get rid of such a blunderer as soon as he can."

"The accurate boy is always favored," said President Tuttle. "Employers do not want to watch their workers constantly, as if they were dishonest or foolish. A carpenter may have to stand beside his worker to make sure the work is right. Or a cashier may have to check the bookkeeper's columns. In either case, the employer might as well do the work himself. And the employer will certainly get rid of such a blunderer as soon as he can."

"If you make a good pin," said a successful manufacturer, "you will earn more than if you make a bad steam-engine."

"If you make a good pin," said a successful manufacturer, "you will earn more than if you make a bad steam engine."

"There are women," said Fields, "whose stitches always come out, and the buttons they sew on fly off on the mildest provocation; there are other women who use the same needle and thread, and you may tug away at their work on your coat, or waistcoat, and you can't start a button in a generation."

"There are women," said Fields, "whose stitches always come undone and whose buttons fly off at the slightest provocation. Other women use the same needle and thread, but you can tug at their work on your coat or vest. You won't loosen a button in a generation."

"Carelessness," "indifference," "slouchiness," "slipshod financiering," could truthfully be written over the graves of thousands who have failed in life. How many clerks, cashiers, clergymen, editors, and professors in colleges have lost position and prestige by carelessness and inaccuracy!

"Carelessness," "indifference," "sloppiness," and "careless financial management" could truthfully be written on the graves of thousands who have failed in life. How many clerks, cashiers, ministers, editors, and college professors have lost their positions and prestige through carelessness and inaccuracy!

"You would be the greatest man of your age, Grattan," said Curran, "if you would buy a few yards of red tape and tie up your bills and papers." Curran realized that methodical people are accurate, and, as a rule, successful.

"You would be the greatest man of your age, Grattan," said Curran, "if you bought a few yards of red tape and tied up your bills and papers." Curran understood that organized people are accurate and usually successful.

Bergh tells of a man beginning business who opened and shut his shop regularly at the same hour every day for weeks, without selling two cents' worth, yet whose application attracted attention and paved the way to fortune.

Bergh tells of a man who started a business and opened and closed his shop at the same time every day. For weeks, he did not sell even two cents’ worth of goods. Yet his diligence attracted attention and paved the way to fortune.

A. T. Stewart was extremely systematic and precise in all his transactions. Method ruled in every department of his store, and for every delinquency a penalty was rigidly enforced. His eye was upon his business in all its ramifications; he mastered every detail and worked hard.

A. T. Stewart was extremely organized and precise in all his business dealings. Every department of his store followed a system, and every offense was strictly penalized. He kept an eye on every aspect of his business. He mastered every detail and worked hard.

From the time Jonas Chickering began to work for a piano-maker, he was noted for the pains and care with which he did everything. To him there were no trifles in the manufacturing of pianos. Neither time nor labor was of any account to him, compared with accuracy and knowledge. He soon made pianos in a factory of his own. He determined to make an instrument yielding the fullest and richest volume of melody with the least exertion to the player, withstanding atmospheric changes, and preserving its purity and truthfulness of tone. He resolved that each piano should be an improvement upon the one which preceded it; perfection was his aim. To the end of his life he gave the finishing touch to each of his instruments, and would trust it to no one else. He permitted no irregularity in workmanship or sales, and was characterized by simplicity, transparency, and straightforwardness.

From the time Jonas Chickering began working for a piano maker, he was known for the care he put into everything. To him, no detail in making a piano was too small to matter. He valued accuracy and knowledge more than the time or labor they took. He soon began making pianos in his own factory. He set out to make an instrument that produced the fullest, richest sound with the least effort from the player. It would withstand changes in the atmosphere and preserve its pure, true tone. He resolved to make each piano better than the one before it. His goal was perfection. Until the end of his life, he gave each instrument its finishing touch, trusting no one else to do it. He allowed no irregularities in workmanship or sales, and he was known for his simplicity, openness, and straightforwardness.

He distanced all competitors. Chickering's name was such a power that one piano-maker had his name changed to Chickering by the Massachusetts legislature, and put it on his pianos; but Jonas Chickering sent a petition to the legislature, and the name was changed back. Character has a commercial as well as an ethical value.

He outpaced all his competitors. Chickering's name was so powerful that one piano maker had the Massachusetts legislature change his name to Chickering. He put the name on his pianos. But Jonas Chickering petitioned the legislature, and the man's name was changed back. Character has commercial value as well as moral value.

Joseph M. W. Turner was intended by his father for a barber, but he showed such a taste for drawing that a reluctant permission was given for him to follow art as a profession. He soon became skilful, but as he lacked means he took anything to do that came in his way, frequently illustrating guide-books and almanacs. But although the pay was very small the work was never careless. His labor was worth several times what he received for it, but the price was increased and work of higher grade given him simply because men seek the services of those who are known to be faithful, and employ them in as lofty work as they seem able to do. And so he toiled upward until he began to employ himself, his work sure of a market at some price, and the price increasing as other men began to get glimpses of the transcendent art revealed in his paintings, an art not fully comprehended even in our day. He surpassed the acknowledged masters in various fields of landscape work, and left matchless studies of natural scenery in lines never before attempted. What Shakespeare is in literature, Turner is in his special field, the greatest name on record.

Joseph M. W. Turner’s father wanted him to become a barber. But Turner showed such a talent for drawing that his father reluctantly allowed him to pursue art as a profession. He soon became skilled, but he had little money and took whatever work came his way. He often illustrated guidebooks and almanacs. Although the pay was very low, he never worked carelessly. His work was worth several times what he was paid. But his pay increased, and he was given better work. People seek the services of those known to be dependable. They give them work of as high a standard as they seem capable of doing. So Turner worked his way up until he began working for himself. He was sure to find a buyer for his work at some price. That price rose as others began to glimpse the extraordinary artistry in his paintings. Even in our day, his art is not fully understood. He surpassed the recognized masters in various areas of landscape painting. He left behind unmatched studies of natural scenery in styles no one had attempted before. What Shakespeare is in literature, Turner is in his own field, the greatest name on record.

The demand for perfection in the nature of Wendell Phillips was wonderful. Every word must exactly express the shade of his thought; every phrase must be of due length and cadence; every sentence must be perfectly balanced before it left his lips. Exact precision characterized his style. He was easily the first forensic orator America has produced. The rhythmical fulness and poise of his periods are remarkable.

Wendell Phillips had an extraordinary demand for perfection. Every word had to express the exact shade of his thought. Every phrase had to have the right length and rhythm. Every sentence had to be perfectly balanced before he spoke it. His style was marked by exact precision. He was easily the greatest public speaker America has produced. The richness, rhythm, and balance of his sentences are remarkable.

Alexandre Dumas prepared his manuscript with the greatest care. When consulted by a friend whose article had been rejected by several publishers, he advised him to have it handsomely copied by a professional penman, and then change the title. The advice was taken, and the article eagerly accepted by one of the very publishers who had refused it before. Many able essays have been rejected because of poor penmanship. We must strive after accuracy as we would after wisdom, or hidden treasure or anything we would attain. Determine to form exact business habits. Avoid slipshod financiering as you would the plague. Careless and indifferent habits would soon ruin a millionaire. Nearly every very successful man is accurate and painstaking. Accuracy means character, and character is power.

Alexandre Dumas prepared his manuscripts with great care. A friend once asked his advice after several publishers had rejected an article. Dumas advised him to have a professional copyist write it out neatly and then change the title. His friend took the advice, and one of the publishers who had rejected the article before eagerly accepted it. Many able essays have been rejected because of poor handwriting. We must pursue accuracy as we would wisdom, hidden treasure, or anything else we hope to attain. Resolve to develop precise business habits. Avoid sloppy financial practices as you would the plague. Careless and indifferent habits would soon ruin a millionaire. Nearly every highly successful man is accurate and painstaking. Accuracy means character, and character is power.