e
fact that no two careers have the same gauge, that every man builds his
own road upon which another's engine cannot run either with speed or
safety. This fickleness, this disposition to shift about from one
occupation to another, seems to be peculiar to American life, so much
so that, when a young man meets a friend whom he has not seen for some
time, the commonest question to ask is, "What are you doing now?"
showing the improbability or uncertainty that he is doing to-day what
he was doing when they last met.

Some people think that if they "keep everlastingly at it" they will
succeed, but this is not so. Working without a plan is as foolish as
going to sea without a compass. A ship which has broken its rudder in
mid-ocean may "keep everlastingly at it," may keep on a full head of
steam, driving about all the time, but it never arrives anywhere, it
never reaches any port unless by accident, and if it does find a haven,
its cargo may not be suited to the people, the climate, or conditions
among which it has accidentally drifted. The ship must be directed to
a definite port, for which its cargo is adapted, and where there is a
demand for it, and it must aim steadily for that port through sunshine
and storm, through tempest and fog. So a man who would succeed must
not drift about rudderless on the ocean of life. He must not only
steer straight toward his destined port when the ocean is smooth, when
the currents and winds serve, but he must keep his course in the very
teeth of the wind and the tempest, and even when enveloped in the fogs
of disappointment and mists of opposition. The Cunarders do not stop
for fogs or storms; they plow straight through the rough seas with only
one thing in view, their destined port, and no matter what the weather
is, no matter what obstacles they encounter, their arrival in port can
be predicted to within a few hours. It is practically certain, too,
that the ship destined for Boston will not turn up at Fort Sumter or at
Sandy Hook.

On the prairies of South America there grows a flower that always
inclines in the same direction. If a traveler loses his way and has
neither compass nor chart, by turning to this flower he will find a
guide on which he can implicitly rely; for no matter how the rains
descend or the winds blow, its leaves point to the north. So there are
many men whose purposes are so well known, whose aims are so constant,
that no matter what difficulties they ma