CHARACTER SKETCHES.

Otago Witness, Issue 1934, 19 March 1891, Page 34

CHARACTER SKETCHES.

By FABIAN BELL.

THE UNSUCCESSFUL MAN. We all know him. Yes, and like him, too. He's a jolly good fellow, a universal favourite, but — he never gets on. Other young fellows start even with him in the upward climb ; they get on, monnfc the ladder rung by rung, some even reaching the top, but he never mounts. Perhaps he does not try, or if he does slips so often that he gets discouraged, and remains at the bottom — at first contentedly, with a half jest at his own ill luck, and then with ill-concealed chagrin and disgußt as one who is the victim of some undeserved misfortune. And yet he is a jolly good fellow, everyone's friend, but somehow he never gets on. From childhood it is' the same. The boys like him, but they always contrive to get the better of him in those struggles for place and precedence in which the school world apes the larger world of life. "Heis a gopd sorfc of chap, but awful soft," is the verdict of the keen young judges, who soon learn to appraise all those with whom they are brought into contact. Not false, or sly, or cruel, or a bully, only " soft," easily led, easily influenced, easily wrought upon — a character that has no backbone to it. ! The man of one idea always gets on. The idea may be a good one, or it may be only one grade above mediocrity ; still the man who pursues it with unswerving energy, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left, is snre to succeed in the end. His goal is before him, and he never wavers in his determination to reach it. Little obstacles, small considerations of other people's comfort or convenience, and his own fleeting ! fancies, never deter him. His inarch is always onward, though nob necessarily ut>- ' ward. He knows what he wants, and generally gets it. But the unsuccessful man, even as a boy is, not quite sure of what he wants, and it ! is not therefore surprising that he does not get it. At school he would like to be cap- , tain of the football team or of the cricket [ eleven, but he does not care for the trouble j of training and the steady day by day practice. He would like to win a prize, but he j has not quite made up his mind as to which prize it would be best to try for, and while he hesitates another steps in before him, and , his ohanoe is gone. He is a favourite with 1 the boys and often with the masters, for he is generally amiable and obliging, but on the whole his school career is a failure, though he is of all others the man who looks back on his school days with longing regret as the happiest time of his Jife, " distance lending enchantment to the view." Then the time comes when the boy leaves school, and chooses — or has chosen for him — some trade or profession, the business of his future life. The boy of one idea has probably long since made up his mind what he should like to do and to be. If circumstances favour this natural bent, it is fortunate for him ; if not— like a tree planted in uncongenial soil— he will often twist and turn and send out long roots and branches until ultimately he reaches the object of bis desire, and so,- even by roundabout means, attains the goal on which his mind is bent. The unsuccessful man in embryo has not made up his mind, does not greatly care, thinks be should like to be a carpenter or a lawyer, a farmer or a banker, as the case may be, and, having tried one or two or all of these, discovers that he has not hit upon the right one, and so abandons them one by one before the initial difficulties are overcome ; or perhaps, having no special "preference, he really does make a bad choice, and wastes years of precious time which can never be regained. Still the result is the same — he is unsuccessful ; and having failed once, finds it only too easy to fail again and again. The downward path is easy, as we all know, and the man who has once embarked upon it finds the momentum such that it hurries him ever onward. It is not that he does not make an effort to stop himself, to retrieve his ill fortune — his. life is made up of such; but they are abortive attempts, and come to nothing. He lacks the elements of success. It is not so much what he does as what he does not do which decides his fate. In small things as in great his luok is bad. Sometimes it is his own fault, but very often it is not, If he buy 9 shares, he sells

I too soon or holds too long — he never parts with them at the right moment ; the horse he backs is sure to lose; the jockey he swears by sells the field. It is always the same. If he is in an accident, the other men escape scot free— -he alone is injnred : if he is involved in a doubtful transaction, his partners escape the meshes of the law which are tight enough to close around him. And so it continues throughout his whole life. Nothing that he touohes prospers. Haying failed in half a dozen of the more legitimate trades and professions,. he strikes out some original scheme of his own— some article of use or beauty which shall supply a " known want." For a time he works hard at this scheme, and it seems on the verge of success ; then he gets chagrined at some trifling obstacle, and throws it up in disgust. A few years later someone else takes up the scheme, and coins gold out of it. Our unsuccessful friend goes up-country and buys land on deferred payment. " Any fool can farm," he thinks. It may be. but simple as it looks he .cannot manage it ; his crops are always wrong. When oats are dear he has a fine show of- wheat ; when wheat is up hia land is laid down with turnips, and perished with drought. It is possible to lose a good deal of money farming, simple as the process looks, and bo be finds out, and not having the purse of Fortunatus he gives up the land, and retires from country pursuits a poorer, a sadder, but unfortunately not a wiser man. Someone else takes up his location, and "the deserfc blossoms like the rose.' At the diggings he spends day after day and week after week, till his poor hands are blistered and his face the tint of mahogany but without seeing " the colour." The nexfc man who takeß up hia claim finds a bie nugget and makes his pile. „ Bub through it all he is sanguine, hopeful and good-tempered. "Never say die," "Better luck next time," these are his mottos. Unfortunately their success does not justify his confidence, but to the last he remains true to them, and is always on the point of redeeming his lost fortune. If no one else believes in him he believes in himself, and is always expecting something good' to "turn up." but it never does. Unsuccessful men have many friends, for they are their own worst enemies, and we readily forgive the man who injures no one but himself, and a little sense of our own superiority is d ispleas/ng to no one. He fails where we succeed. « Poor devil I " we say, "how unlucky he is,'' and we dwell complacently on the thought of our own better fortune. But women are the true friends, of the unsuccessful men, the pity which 'is In some cases akin to love, and in others to contempt, is always ready, to shed its divine effulgence on those who fail and fall in the race for life, to bind up their wounds, and to pour in oil and wine. Mothers, sisters, sweethearts, wives— all have a tenderness for " the unlucky fellows who can't get-on:"-Strong, brave, successful men are often verysadly mismatched, and the man of one idea' seldom finds a congenial helpmate; but how many a poor "ne'er-do-weel " has been kept from sinking altogether by the untiring devotion of his womenfolk, who hope on against hope, or, when hope_ is no longer possible, still find excuses and say* "Poor fellow 1 he is so unfortunate ; everyone is against him."