Section Ii.--Independence of Character.

There is a certain kind of Independence of Character, which is indispensable to success in any undertaking. I do not mean a proud, self-confident spirit, which despises advice, and makes one self-willed and headstrong. This is obstinacy. But true independence is that sort of self-confidence and resolution which leads one to go forward in what he has to do, with decision and energy, without leaning upon others. Without this, a man will gain to himself that unenviable distinction described by the homely but expressive term shiftless. The following description, from Mrs. S. C. Hall's "Sketches of Irish Character,"* furnishes an admirable illustration of the results of a want of independence of character:--

* See Frontispiece.

"Shane Thurlough, 'as dacent a boy,' and Shane's wife, as 'clane-skinned a girl,' as any in the world. There is Shane, an active, handsome looking fellow, leaning over the half-door of his cottage, kicking a hole in the wall with his brogue, and picking up all the large gravel within his reach, to pelt the ducks with. Let us speak to him. 'Good morning Shane.' 'Och! the bright bames of heaven on ye every day! and kindly welcome, my lady; and won't ye step in and rest--its powerful hot, and a beautiful summer, sure,--the Lord be praised!' 'Thank you, Shane. I thought you were going to cut the hay-field to-day; if a heavy shower comes, it will be spoiled; it has been fit for the scythe these two days.' 'Sure, it's all owing to that thief o' the world, Tom Parrel, my lady. Didn't he promise me the loan of his scythe; and by the same token I was to pay him for it; and depinding on that, I didn't buy one, which I have been threatening to do for the last two years.' 'But why don't you go to Carrick and purchase one?' 'To Carrick. Och, 'tis a good step to Carrick, and my toes are on the ground, (saving your presence,) for I depinded on Tim Jarvis to tell Andy Cappler, the brogue-maker, to do my shoes; and, bad luck to him, the spalpeen, he forgot it.' 'Where's your pretty wife, Shane?' 'She's in all the wo o' the world, ma'am, dear. And she puts the blame of it on me, though I'm not in the fault this time, any how. The child's taken the small pox, and she depinded on me to tell the doctor to cut it for the cow-pox, and I depinded on Kitty Cackle, the limmer, to tell the doctor's own man, and thought she would not forget it, becase the boy's her bachelor; but out o' sight out o' mind--the never a word she tould him about it, and the babby's got it nataral, and the woman's in heart trouble, (to say nothing o' myself;) and its the first and all.'

"'I am very sorry, indeed, for you have got a much better wife than most men!' 'That's a true word, my lady, only she's fidgety-like sometimes, and says I don't hit the nail on the head quick enough; and she takes a dale more trouble than she need about mony a thing.'

"'I do not think I ever saw Ellen's wheel without flax before, Shane?' 'Bad 'cess to the wheel!--I got it this morning about that too. I depinded on John Williams to bring the flax from O'Flaharty's this day week, and he forgot it; and she says I ought to have brought it myself, and I close to the spot. But where's the good? says I; sure, he'll bring it next time.'

"'I suppose, Shane, you will soon move into the new cottage at Churn Hill? I passed it to-day, and it looked so cheerful; and when you get there, you must take Ellen's advice, and depind solely on yourself.' 'Och! ma'am dear, don't mention it; sure it's that makes me so down in the mouth this very minit. Sure I saw that born blackguard, Jack Waddy, and he comes in here, quite innocent-like--'Shane, you've an eye to squire's new lodge,' says he. 'Maybe I have,' says I. 'I'm yer man,' says he. 'How so,' says I. 'Sure I'm as good as married to my lady's maid,' said he; 'and I'll spake to the squire for you my own self.' 'The blessing be about you,' says I, quite grateful--and we took a strong cup on the strength of it--and depinding on him, I thought all safe; and what d'ye think, my lady? Why, himself stalks into the place--talked the squire over, to be sure--and without so much as "by your lave," sates himself and his new wife on the lase in the house; and I may go whistle.' 'It was a great pity, Shane, that you did not go yourself to Mr. Churn.' 'That's a true word for you, ma'am dear; but it's hard if a poor man can't have a frind to depind on.'"

If you want any thing well done, you must see to it yourself. If you want it half done, leave it to servants. If you want it neglected, impose it upon your friend, to save yourself the trouble.