One of the cleverest of our present-day writers of fiction started out to be a lawyer.  But he could not keep his pen from paper nor restrain that mysterious instrument from tracing sketches of character and drawing pictures of human situations.  Very well!  He had the courage to obey the call of his preferences; and to-day, instead of being an unskillful attorney, he is noted and notable in the present-hour world of letters.

Anthony Hope in England is another illustration precisely in point.  On the other hand, Erskine, who was intended by his parents for the army, was destined by Nature for the bar.  This master-advocate of all the history of English jurisprudence felt it in his blood that he must practise law; and so his sword rusted while he studied Blackstone.  Finally, he deserted the field for the forum, there to become the most illustrious barrister the United Kingdom has produced.

I therefore emphasize the importance of finding out what you can do best rather than what either you or your parents wish you could do best.  For it seems to me that this is getting very close to the truth of life.  The thoughtless commonplace that “every boy may be President” has worked mischief, sown unhappiness, and robbed humanity of useful workers.

Every boy cannot be President, and, what is more, every boy ought not to be.  Let Edison remain in his laboratory and enrich mankind with his wizard wisdom.  England would have lost her great explorer if Drake had tried to write plays; while Shakespeare would doubtless have been sea-sick on the decks of the Golden Hind.  Let Verdi compose, and charm the universal heart with his witcheries of sound; let Cavour keep to his statesmanship, that a dismembered people may again be made one.  Every man to his calling.  “Let the shoemaker stick to his last,” said Appelles.

Ito might have led the Japanese armies to defeat—­Oyama led them to victory.  But Ito created modern Japan, wrote its constitution and introduced those methods which made Oyama’s successes possible.  Each man succeeded because he chose to do what Nature fitted him to do.

Of course you may be fitted for more than one thing.  Caesar could have equaled if not surpassed Cicero in mere oratory had he not preferred to find, in war and government, a fame more enduring.  But, if you try all things for which you may be equipped by Nature, you will so scatter your energies through the delta of your aptitudes that your very wealth and variety of gifts neutralizes them all.  No.  Pick out one of the things you can do well and let the others go.  A tree is pruned on the same principle.  Stick to one thing.  Beware of your versatilities.

Your life’s work chosen give wing to your imagination.  Behold yourself preeminent in your field of effort.  Dream of yourself as the best civil engineer of your time, or the soundest banker or ablest merchant.  If you are a farmer fancy yourself the master of all the secrets science is daily discovering in this most engaging of occupations; picture yourself as the man who has accomplished most in the realm of agriculture.