CHAPTER XII. TACT OR COMMON SENSE. "Who is stronger than thou?" asked Brahma; and Force replied, Address."- VICTOR HUGO. Address makes opportunities; the want of it gives them.-BOVEE He'll suit his bearing to the hour, ELIZA COOK. A man who knows the world will not only make the most of everything he does know, but of many things he does not know; and will gain more credit by his adroit mode of hiding his ignorance, than the pedant by his awkward attempt to exhibit his erudition. - COLTON. The art of using moderate abilities to advantage wins praise, and often acquires more reputation than actual brilliancy. - ROCHEFOUCAuld. Tact clinches the bargain, Sails out of the bay, Gets the vote in the Senate, Spite of Webster or Clay. "A loaf baked is better than a harvest contemplated. Cook County is better than a whole principality in Utopia." HOLMES. "I NEVER will surrender to a nigger," said a Confederate officer, when a colored soldier chased and caught him. "Berry sorry, massa," said the negro, leveling his rifle; "must kill you den; hain't time to go back and git a white man." The officer surrendered. "When God endowed human beings with brains," says Montesquieu, "he did not intend to guarantee them." "Mr. President," said an old boatswain, speaking for a number of sailors who desired promotion without increase of pay; "I can put this 'ere matter so's you can see it plain. Now here I be a parent-in fact, a father. My son is a midshipman. He outranks me, don't you observe? That ain't right, don't you see?" "Indeed," said President Grant; "who appointed him?" "The Secretary here," replied the boatswain. "It ain't right, don't you see, that I should be beneath him. Why, if I was to go onto his ship the boy I brought up to obedience would boss his own father. Jest think o' that! An' he has better quarters 'n me, an' better grub, nice furniture 'n' all that, sleeps in a nice soft bed, an' all that. See?" "Yes," said the President, "the world is full of in equalities. I know of a case quite similar to yours. I know of an old fellow who is a postmaster in a little town of Kentucky. He lives in a plain way in a small house. He is a nice old man, but he is n't much in rank. His son outranks him more than your son does you. His son lives in Washington, in the biggest house there, and he is surrounded by the nicest of furniture, and eats and drinks everything he takes a notion to. He could remove his father from office in a minute if he wanted to. And the old man - that's Jesse Grant, you know - does n't seem to care about the inequality in rank. I suppose he is glad to see his boy get along in the world." The other sailors laughed, slapped the old boatswain on the back, and filed out. When Abraham Lincoln was running for the legislature, the first time, on the platform of the improvement of the Sangamon River, he went to secure the votes of thirty men who were cradling a wheat-field. They asked no questions about internal improvements, but only seemed curious to know whether he had muscle enough to represent them in the legislature. Lincoln took up a cradle and led the gang around the field. The whole thirty voted for him. "I do not know how it is," said Napoleon in surprise to his cook, "but at whatever hour I call for my breakfast my chicken is always ready and always in good condition." This seemed to him the more strange be cause sometimes he would breakfast at eight and at other times as late as eleven. "Sire," said the cook, "the reason is, that every quarter of an hour I put a fresh chicken down to roast, so that your Majesty is sure always to have it at perfection." Talent in this age is no match for tact. We see its failure everywhere. Tact will manipulate one talent so as to get more out of it in a lifetime than ten talents will accomplish without tact. "Talent lies abed till noon; tact is up at six." Talent is power, tact is skill. Talent knows what to do, tact knows how to do it. Talent theorizes, tact performs. Philosophers discuss, practical men act. The world is full of theoretical, one-sided, impracti cal men, who have turned all the energies of their lives into one faculty until they have developed, not a fullorbed, symmetrical man, but a monstrosity, while all their other faculties have atrophied and died. We often call these one-sided men geniuses, and the world excuses their impractical and almost idiotic conduct in most matters, because they can perform one kind of work that no one else can do as well. A merchant is excused if he is a giant in merchandise, though he may be an imbecile in the drawing-room. Adam Smith could teach the world economy in his "Wealth of Nations," but he could not manage the finances of his own household. Many great men are very impractical even in the ordinary affairs of life. Isaac Newton could read the secret of creation; but, tired of rising from his chair to open the door for a cat and her kitten, he had two holes cut through the panels for them to pass at will, a large hole for the cat, and a small one for the kitten. Beethoven was a great musician, but he sent three hundred florins to pay for six shirts and half a dozen handkerchiefs. He paid his tailor as large a sum in advance, and yet he was so poor at times that he had only a biscuit and a glass of water for dinner. He did not know enough of business to cut the coupon from a bond when he wanted money, but sold the whole instrument. It was said of Dr. Johnson that he "uplifts the club of Hercules to crush a butterfly or brain a gnat." Dean Swift nearly starved in a country parish where his more practical classmate Stafford became rich. One of Napoleon's marshals understood military tactics as well as his chief, but he did not know men so well, and lacked the other's skill and tact. Napoleon might fall; but, like a cat, he would fall upon his feet. For his argument in the Florida Case, a fee of one thousand dollars in crisp new bills of large denomination was handed to Daniel Webster as he sat reading in his library. The next day he wished to use some of the money, but could not find any of the bills. Years afterward, as he turned the page of a book, he found a bank-bill without a crease in it. On turning the next leaf he found another, and so on until he took the whole amount lost from the places where he had deposited them thoughtlessly, as he read. Learning of a new issue of gold pieces at the Treasury, he directed his Secretary, Charles Lanman, to obtain several hundred dollars' worth. A day or two after he put his hand in his pocket for one, but they were all gone. Webster was at first puzzled, but on reflection remembered that he had given them away, one by one, to friends who seemed to appreciate their beauty. A professor in mathematics in a New England college, a "book-worm," was asked by his wife to bring home some coffee. "How much will you have?" asked the merchant "Well, I declare, my wife did not say, but I guess a bushel will do." Many a great man has been so absent-minded at times as to seem devoid of common sense. "The professor is not at home," said his servant who looked out of a window in the dark and failed to recog nize Lessing when the latter knocked at his own door |