April 1959 — VOL. 40. No. 3 — On Building Character
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Character is of vital importance to young
people leaving school and university to enter upon their life
work. It is by character that they will be judged by their
friends, their employers and society.
The term "character" applies in common usage to the distinctive
array of qualities setting off one individual from all others.
The word comes from the Greek, meaning "a distinguishing mark,
impression, engraving." It signifies what nature and our training
and our habits and our thoughts have made us. When we say
that a person has "character" we pay him a compliment.
Some people say that knowledge is power. It is more correct
in this vigorous and complex age to say that character is
power. Mind without heart, intelligence without conduct, cleverness
without goodness: all these have dangerous flaws.
This is a side of life to which young and old need to pay
attention if they are to achieve happiness and peace of mind.
The development of character has not kept pace with the advancement
of science and technology. Human impulses have remained becalmed
and almost changeless while the physical surroundings of human
beings have been transformed.
Moral strength and backbone need to be brought up to the
level of our increasing intellectual enlightenment and our
ever—widening control over physical things.
Some people have a false idea of character. They think of
it as being like the angels and cherubs of a great painter
like Fra Angelico, portraying goodness without personality.
But the person of noble character has validity and actuality;
he knows that he is filling a vital need and meeting his obligations
to himself and to society.
There is no need to seek example's in remote history. We
may see people of character in our everyday lives, among teachers
and students, among foremen and workmen, among neighbours,
friends and family. They give an impression of completeness,
poise and sincerity. They are, or will become, the motive
power of society. Our true aristocracy is not of blood or
fashion or talent, but of character.
Real, not assumed
The person of character endeavours to be really what he
wishes to appear. Character deals with substance, not show.
It is complexion, not cosmetic: the outward expression of
an inner reality, not something stuck on from outside.
The person of weak character is like a chameleon; he takes
on the color of his surroundings. He may not offend profoundly
against social laws, but drift serenely because he is making
for nowhere. He may, indeed, have many of the attributes of
the man of strong character, but his average is dragged down
by one or two weaknesses.
A common type of feeble character is shown by the person
who credits himself for his successes, but blames his environment
for his failures; he is an optimist about himself, and a pessimist
about all other people; he admires the superman, and believes
that he too could be a great leader if people would only recognize
his merits.
By contrast, the person of sturdy character has a good sense
of proportion. He is not blown hither and yon by whims, desires
and fads. He will not knuckle down under any situation that
affronts him until he has done all in his power to change
it.
Such a character cannot be manufactured overnight. It is
built over a period out of material of two sorts: the solid
kind, supplied by observation, reasoning and study; and the
lively and livening kind brought by the imagination.
Character, as Goethe put it once for aI1, grows only in
the stream of the world. Everyone has a basic and urgent need
for self—realization and satisfaction, but he cannot
attain these in a vacuum. We are not only individuals, but
units in society.
A person of good character does not try to evade his duties
to society, nor does he allow himself to become negligent
of them. He will not drop a lighted match and start a forest
fire; he does not leave an obstacle on a highway to menace
the lives of motorists; he does not display that abominable
form of arrogance of thinking himself above the laws which
apply to all other people.
The man of character knows that his greatest significance
must consist in his contribution to the lives of others. The
more complex, the more highly—organized our society becomes,
the more it requires competent, self—respecting, well—rounded
individuals to make it work.
Principles and standards
What are some of the features that mark a person of first—rate
character? Possibly most important is that he has learned
the ideals and facts of life philosophically: that is, so
as to discover principles. The habit of his mind is to refer
to standards. He discriminates between the good and the shoddy.
Principles act as a sort of psychological gyroscope, keeping
us in balance. Everyone will not have the same set of principles,
but everyone needs something to which he sets his back and
declares "Here stand I; I can do no other."
Part of character is to recognize the imperative nature
of duty. Complete freedom to follow every impulse would dissolve
character, but inner discipline builds it.
Nicholas Monsarrat sums up duty, obligation and responsibility
in his book Three Corvettes, telling about war time
on the Atlantic: "You're woken up at ten to four by the bosun's
mate, and you stare at the deck—head and think: 'I can't
go up there again in the dark and filthy rain, and stand another
four hours of it.' But you can, of course: it becomes automatic
in the end. And besides, there are people watching you."
Broadmindedness
The person of good character is broadminded and tolerant.
Great—mindedness is the ornament of all the other virtues.
Through it a man reflects the sensitive spirit that is death
to the immaturity of prejudice.
What is broadmindedness? It is looking at ideas and facts
from all sides, comparing statements, reports, and beliefs
honestly and eagerly. When Charles Darwin came upon data unfavourable
to a theory he was considering, he hastily made a note of
them, because he knew they had a way of slipping out of memory
a little more readily than welcome facts.
As to tolerance, a writer tells about attending a dance
in a country where there had been a revolution. The lights
were turned out during the playing of the new republican anthem,
because, as one leader said, "this is a social affair and
we don't want to see who won't stand up."
A good principle, found in people of character, is to wait
until the evidence is in before passing judgment. We cannot
make up our minds intelligently if we judge by single facts
wrenched from their context in a man's or a nation's life.
Whence came the facts? Have they undoubted validity? Have
you tested them against the common sense of your own experience
and your knowledge of things in general? Have you considered
in a kindly way, as Alan said in Robert Louis Stevenson's
Kidnapped: "Them that havenae dipped their hands
in any little difficulty should be very mindful of the case
of them that have."
If we analyse what we know of the person who has an admirable
character, we shall find one of the ingredients to be self—forgetfulness.
He is thoughtful of others. He respects other people as persons.
He considers not only wherein a friend or an employee has
fallen short, but also what that person has positively achieved
or endeavoured.
Gentleness
Sometimes we hear people lamenting the chivalry that is
gone. They find among the tumbled castles and buried swords
of the Middle Ages a code called knightly honour, for which
they pine.
The gentle person today is one whose nature has been fashioned
after the highest models. He finds that gentleness in society
is far more powerful than loudness or force, and far more
fruitful. It pushes its way quietly and resolutely, like the
tiniest crocus in spring which raises the clod and thrusts
it aside by the simple persistence of growing.
Gentleness is combined with strength and authority in the
person of excellent character. Great—minded men are not
high and mighty toward people of humble stations. There are
many tests by which a gentleman may be known, but there is
one that never fails: how does he exercise power over those
who are subordinate to him?
This gentleness is in the vast field of conduct quite outside
legal commandments and regulations. It is an area well known
to the person of good character but largely unexplored by
others.
Dependability
The person of sound character has not only talent but the
power to make his talent trusted.
Trustworthiness is a vital factor in character. The man
of character is not constantly reflecting whether he shall
be honest or not; he is honest by habit and as a matter of
course. He does not give promises lightly, but lives up to
those he does give.
An integral part of dependability is modesty. The man of
good character does not allow his head to be turned by the
flourish of trumpets sounding his praise. He does not try
to give all the answers or to speak as an authority on every
topic. He knows that there is truth in Solomon's words: there
is more hope for a fool than for a man wise in his own conceit.
He measures his achievements by those of his equals and superiors:
it is not only false reasoning but stupid to measure by comparison
with lesser people.
There was once a Roman general who lost perspective. When
he captured a small city he allowed his army to salute him
as emperor. His contemporaries laughed, because they said
he must despair of a nobler achievement since he made so much
of this little success.
But the man of character is not so humble as to be afraid
to show his abilities. There is no worse crime against our
human heritage than to waste our talents.
All the virtues and principles so far mentioned, and others
suited to the individual nature and circumstance of every
person, contribute to the self—reliance which is so evident
in people of strong character. When a man of character faces
a stiff fence he either sails over it or wallops himself over
it.
Motive and harmony
How are the principles and virtues co—ordinated so
as to form character? It is motive that gives form and intensity
to our efforts, and motive is the thought of a desirable end.
It runs through our mixing with people and our solitary meditation,
our dominance and our shyness, our conformity to conventions
and our idiosyncrasies, our affection for things that are
good and our ruthlessness against things that are bad.
The habit that results from following our motives is not
mere custom, but a way of willing, of deliberate choice. Serf—respect,
application, integrity - these are not beliefs, but habits.
"Could the young," as William James wrote, "but realize how
soon they will become mere walking bundles of habits, they
would give more heed to their conduct while in the plastic
state. We are spinning our own fates, good or evil, and never
to be undone."
Character includes a kind of harmony, a sort of Golden Mean
by practising which we keep our balance. The most profound
need of personality is that the individual should realize
himself as a harmonious whole, balancing his qualities and
abilities so as to constitute, in the common phrase, "an all—round
man."
Harmony should not be mistaken for a soothing, placid condition.
Quite the contrary. It is the source of great energy, of active
and meaningful participation in the world of reality. It is
an attribute of maturity.
A mature person behaves in a reasonable way, observing self—restraint
so that restraints do not have to be imposed. He sees through
nonsense in polities, economics, science, and the other preoccupations
of life, and feels it to be his duty to resist it. He can
find new outlets for his energies when they are blocked in
any particular direction: it is only the neurotic person who
feels "I must have this or nothing."
Can we improve character?
Some people are fatalists, and will seriously question the
ability of a person to change his character in any way as
a result of conscious effort. That is a doctrine of pessimism.
Traits of character are not inherited solely, but are built
within our environment.
The opportunity to blame heredity is congenial to persons
who do not wish to change. They seem perfect to themselves,
and their faults are so lovable to them, that they resent
the notion of making a few repairs.
Some people fear to venture out into the broad life of maturity
because they cannot tell, never having tried, whether they
are sure—footed. Or they may be weaklings who think of
themselves as refraining from contact with the world for some
exalted reason, whereas the truth is that they stay in the
background because they have lame paws.
Intelligent people do not fancy themselves to be perfect,
but they are not unduly troubled by the fact that they are
not. Perfection is a completion, without growth or expansion,
whereas excellent character is the result of many recommencements.
To know where to start is an important part of learning,
so it is worthwhile to take an inventory showing where we
stand today. It is refreshing to step a little aside, out
of the crowd, and calmly take a prospect of things: to give,
as Edgar Guest said, "the man you'd like to be a look at the
man you are."
What is a man of superior character? Is it not true to say
that he is one who pursues the true, the beautiful and the
good? For what else is there that is really worth pursuing
in education, in vocation, in family life, in society?
Life is movement
The way to build character is not to loiter about old things
but to seek and do new things. Good character is not a dwelling
upon past excellencies nor a yearning after things as we wish
them to be, but an acceptance of things as they really are
with a view to influencing them. When the sun goes down, that
is the end of a day, and the man of bold character is already
marching into the new day dawning.
Progress in time and knowledge will require progress in
thinking. The person of admirable character has learned to
revise his concepts of good and bad, beautiful and ugly, what
to desire and what to avoid. He is not easily swayed by wishful
thinking, but applies his constructive dreaming in action.
What is it that prevents a person of undoubted constructive
and intellectual ability from attaining a life of character
and accomplishment? One of the most common causes of failure
is this: he contents himself with being a Don Quixote in imagination,
seeing visions and great causes, but he remains a Hamlet in
achievement by debating and postponing.
Excellence of any sort is beyond the reach of indolence.
A man must have the spunk and spine to put across his ideas.
He needs, as General De Gaulle put it: "that sense of reality
which guides audacity." The consciousness of power develops
out of effort and the encountering of difficulty. No timid
aspirations will suffice. As Milton said in his immortal Aeropagitica:
"I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised
and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary."
The man of character has the energy to do things, to score
a knockout over inertia. He is glad to write in his diary
day after day, as Columbus wrote in the log of his first voyage
across the uncharted Atlantic, "This day we sailed on."
Character is not built by storing up abilities and virtues
as we might store bonds and stock certificates in a safety
deposit box. We must reach outward. The man who is building
a self—reliant character would rather play one piece
of music than listen to a hundred recitals; he would rather
strike out on a corner lot than be a spectator at a world
series game.
Persistence in trying is more likely to win out than sitting
around waiting for the lightning of inspiration to strike.
Byron, despite his club—foot, learned to dance perfectly,
the stuttering Demosthenes became a perfect orator, and Beethoven,
losing his hearing, fought his way to incomparable music.
We need zest in living. The man of sound character finds
his days far from tedious. He approaches new phases of life
eagerly, welcomes experience, tempts life to give him as much
as he can bear. He has no time for gloom.
To build character requires courage and endurance. Those
who enjoy the view from the top of a mountain do not whimper
about the scratches they suffered on the way up.
There are various types of courage, and all are part and
parcel of character. The wrestler who wipes the dust from
his shoulders and grapples again with his adversary; the man
who has the courage to live his beliefs; the man who holds
in face of every danger the post he has taken up because he
is convinced that it is right to do so, or because his chief
put him there: these typify the courage of the man of noble
character.
A philosophy of life
We do not build character by laying a layer of transcendental
thought upon another layer, cemented by a sort of philosophical
adhesive. Character is a code of values. A man can be judged
only by what he sees value in.
By philosophy of life we mean whatever it is that gives
meaning and direction to our everyday affairs. If we have
no guidance of this sort, we are still immature. We find ourselves
unable to measure our attainments against the possibilities
of our environment; we have no inner court to which we can
appeal for judgment on our actions.
The philosophy of life of the person of superior character
will be something like this: after examining a problem, situation
or proposal in a broadminded, evidence—seeking way, he
will decide what he ought to like and what he should dislike.
He weighs gains against losses, knowing that he can't have
one without the other. He knows that it is not concrete words
like money and power that give dignity to character and happiness
to individuals, but misty words like honour, love, loyalty,
trust and faith.
What does the search for distinctive character hold out
as a reward? To have a mind that rises above fortune's threats
and promises; to accept all that happens as if you wanted
it that way; to be neither open—armed nor runaway in
the face of danger; to be shaping your fortune instead of
waiting for it; to pursue life with clean hands, spurning
every opportunity to take advantage of someone else's sacrifice
or loss.
The best measure of our success in life, said H. G. Wells,
is the ratio of our accomplishments to our capabilities. Abraham
Lincoln put it this way: "I am not bound to succeed, but I
am bound to live up to what light I have."
The reward for building character may not be anything of
material value, even though being a person of character contributes
toward material gains and enhances their value. We should
recall that the prize given at the Olympic games of old was
only a garland made of the leaves of the wild olive. The Greeks
cared more for honour than riches.
Published by RBC Financial Group. All editions from the RBC
Letter collection are available on our web site at www.rbc.com/responsibility/letter.
Our e-mail address is: rbcletter@rbc.com.
Publié aussi en francais.
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