“So I should suppose.  It is best, however, for men of your temperament to act with prudence and wise forethought in the beginning—­to look well to the paths they are about entering; for they are very apt to go forward with a blind perseverance that will not look a moment from the end proposed.”

“There is truth in your remark, no doubt.  But I always try to be sure that I am right before I go ahead.  David Crockett’s homely motto gives the formula for all high success in life.”

“Yes; he spoke wisely.  There would be few drones in our hive, if all acted up to his precept.”

“Few, indeed.  Oh!  I get out of all patience sometimes with men in business; they act with such feebleness of nerve—­such indecision of purpose.  They seem to have no life—­none of those clear intuitions that spring from an ardent desire to reach a clearly-seen goal.  Without earnestness and concentration, nothing of more than ordinary importance is ever effected.  Until a man taxes every faculty of his mind to the utmost, he cannot know the power that is in him.”

“Truly said.  And I am for every man doing his best; but doing it in the right way.  It is deplorable to see the amount of wasted effort there is in the world.  The aggregate of misapplied energy is enormous.”

“What do you call misapplied energy?” said Markland.

“The energy directed by a wrong purpose.”

“Will you define for me a wrong purpose?”

“Yes; a merely selfish purpose is a wrong one.”

“All men are selfish,” said Mr. Markland.

“In a greater or less degree they are, I know.”

“Then all misapply their energies?”

“Yes, all—­though not always.  But there is a beautiful harmony and precision in the government of the world, that bends man’s selfish purposes into serving the common good.  Men work for themselves alone, each caring for himself alone; yet Providence so orders and arranges, that the neighbour is more really benefited than the individual worker toiling only for himself.  Who is most truly served—­the man who makes a garment, or the man who enjoys its warmth? the builder of the house, or the dweller therein? the tiller of the soil, or he who eats the fruit thereof?  Yet, how rarely does the skilful artisan, or he who labours in the field, think of, or care for, those who are to enjoy the good things of life he is producing!  His thought is on what he is to receive, not on what he is giving; and far too many of those who benefit the world by their labour are made unhappy when they think that others really enjoy what they have produced—­if their thought ever reaches that far beyond themselves.”

“Man is very selfish, I will admit,” said Mr. Markland, thoughtfully.

“It is self-love, my friend,” answered the old man, “that gives to most of us our greatest energy in life.  We work ardently, taxing all our powers, in the accomplishment of some end.  A close self-examination will, in most cases, show us that self is the main-spring of all this activity.  Now, I hold, that in just so far as this is the case, our efforts are misapplied.”