On Good Nature and Firmness

Do not be all sugar, or the world will suck you down; but do not be all vinegar, or the world will spit you out. There is a middle way in all things; only blockheads go to extremes. We need not be all rock or all sand, all iron or all wax. We should neither fawn upon everybody like silly lapdogs, nor fly at all persons like surly mastiffs. It takes all sorts to make a world, and hence on the point of temper, we have all sorts of people to deal with. Some are as easy as an old shoe, but they are hardly ever worth more than the other one of the pair; and others take fire as fast as tinder at the smallest offence and are as dangerous as gunpowder. To have a fellow going about the farm as cross with everybody as a bear with a sore head, with a temper as sour as grapes and as sharp as a razor, looking as surly as a butcher’s dog, is a great nuisance, and yet there may be some good points about the man, so that he may be a man for all that; but poor soft Tommy, as green as grass, and as ready to bend as a willow, is nobody’s money and everybody’s scorn. A man must have a backbone, or how is he to hold his head up? But that backbone must bend, or he will knock his brow against the beam.

There is a time to do as others wish, and a time to refuse. We may make a foolish ass of ourselves, and everybody will want to ride us; but if we would be respected, we must be our own masters and not let others saddle us as they think fit.

If we try to please everybody, we shall be like a toad under a harrow and never have peace; and if we play lackey to all our neighbours, whether good or bad, we shall be thanked by no one, for we shall soon do as much harm as good. He that makes himself a sheep will find that the wolves are not all dead. He who lies on the ground must expect to be trodden on. He who makes himself a mouse, the cats will eat him. If you let your neighbours put the calf on your shoulder, they will soon clap on the cow. We are to please our neighbour for his good to edification, but this is quite another matter.

What a jolly good fellow you will be called if you will make yourself a hack for your friends, and what a Benjamin’s mess will they soon bring you into? Out of that mess, you will have to get all alone, for your old friends will be sure to say to you, “Good-bye, basket, I’ve carried all my apples,” or they will give you their good wishes and nothing more, and you will find out that fair words won’t feed a cat, nor butter your bread, nor fill your pocket. Those who make so very much of you either mean to cheat you, or else need you: when they have sucked the orange they will throw the peel away. Be wise, then, and look before you leap, lest a friend’s advice should do you more mischief than an enemy’s slander. “The simple believes every word; but the prudent man looks well to his going.” Go with your neighbour as far as good conscience will go with you, but part company where the shoe of conscience begins to pinch your foot. Begin with your friend as you mean to go on and let him know very early that you are not a man made of putty, but one who has a judgment of his own, and means to use it. Pull up the moment you find you are out of the road and take the nearest way back at once. The way to avoid great faults is to beware of small ones; therefore, pull up in time if you would not be dragged into the ditch by your friend. Better offend your acquaintance than lose your character and hazard your soul. Do not be persuaded to ruin yourself—it is buying gold too dear to throw oneself away to please your company. Put your foot down where you mean to stand and let no man move you from the right. Learn to say, “No,” and it will be of more use to you than to be able to read Latin.