The Problem of Ambition, or What Is Best Worth While
If a man is climbing a mountain he needs some road marks, or an object to guide by, else he will not get anywhere. He may enjoy the climb, and get some pretty glimpses of scenery, but he never reaches the top, and is apt to lose his way. If he is in a large crowd he needs to have some definite aim or he will lose himself in the crowd, and come to the end of the day tired out and with nothing done. If he is crossing the sea, or the desert, he needs a compass to guide by, or he is likely to lose his life.
And if he is simply trying to make his life count for what it was intended to, he needs something to guide by. For sometimes the path is hidden and overgrown. And ofttimes there is the confusion of a big crowd, with shuffling feet making both dust and noise. And many times the path seems as difficult to find as on the pathless sea or desert. And a good many seem to go astray and spend the day of Ufe on the less important things, and then towards its twilight, feel sharp twinges of regret. So that we want to talk together quietly a bit about the North Star of life, the compass, the true road-marks, that we may aim straight, and travel steady, and reach the top.
There are three great forces in the world of matter, fire and wind and water. And the greatest of these is fire. There are two great forces in the world of men, organization and the individual; a group of men acting together and the man himself in the group; and the greater of these is the individual, the man. The organization is dependent upon the men composing it, and even more upon the man who is the leader. It is limited to’ the things upon which these men can agree. The more men there are, the fewer the things on which they will agree. The organization is a composite, not of the men, but of so much of them as can get together in agreement on a particular subject. By far the greater of the two is the man.
The world of matter belongs under man’s thumb. It was given to him to subdue and develop and control. The greatest force in the world of matter and of man is a man. The greatest factor in human life is a man, with clear brain and of fine grain,, with clear light in his eye, and the hue of health on his cheek, with poised judgment and rugged will, with sweet spirit and pure heart.
Every great movement in history has revolved about a man as its pivot, or found embodiment in him. To recall the great invasion of southern Europe by the hordes of northern barbarians is to think of Alaric, the foremost of all their leaders, sacking the world’s capital. To think of the second most stupendous movement among the peoples of the earth, the Reformation, is to see Luther, the greatest of its leaders. The French Revolution found its embodiment in Mirabeau. To speak of law and legal codes is to call up Moses, chief est of all; and of autocratic government, Julius Csesar, whose name still survives in the titles of the Russian Czar and the German Kaiser.
God Needs Men.
When God would do anything among men He chooses and uses a man. When He wanted to grow a nation that would stand for the highest ideals of revealed religion, even as later Greece stood for letters, and Rome for the power of organization. He chose a man up in the Euphrates Valley. And about this man, Abraham, He began slowly to build up that strange people which has had the greatest influence of any upon the nations of the earth. When that nation, not yet fully born as a nation, was in sore danger of being throttled in its birth. He took a man, Moses, chosen from his birth, graduate in the highest learning of earth’s best schools, with a postgraduate degree from the University of Arabia, and who has left the indelible marks of his native gifts and special training upon that people, and upon the Ufe of the whole race.
With deepest reverence be it said, when God would redeem a world He sent a Man. That Man was as truly a man as though not infinitely more. Yet His character clearly marks Him off from all other men. When He would awaken the life of the whole earth by awakening its head, He chose a man, Luther. One cannot think of that vast moral and mental upheaval of Europe which took so long to reach its flood tide without having his vision filled with the figure of the German giant, and about him grouped, through the years of that movement of staggering, regenerating power, such men as scholarly Wycliff in England, brave Huss in Bohemia, eloquent Savonarola in Italy, the keen and logical statesman Calvin in Geneva, and rugged Knox in Scotland.
When He would build up a new nation on the westernmost continent to stand for liberty, He chose the stalwart Virginian, Washington. And when that nation itself was to be taught liberty, and held together in its hour of severest testing as a nation. He chose the Enghsh giant of Kentucky and Illinois, Lincoln. And later yet, when He would teach the privileges of liberty to those whose only birthright was slavery. He chose a black Washington for the rare, difficult task.
But one must never let the leaders make him forget the faithful common folk without whom no leader could do his work. The common every-day life, not told by the history writer, is dependent even more upon the individual man, whether it be the manning of the ship, or the running of the railroad, or the weaving of life’s common web anywhere. Success and happiness depend upon the one man, in the thick of things, quietly doing the commonplace things, with an uncommon, faithful steadiness.
The Brooding Need.
The greatest need of the world is men. The spirit of organization which has seized hold of present-day life and specialized it so highly in every direction makes that need greater to-day than ever. The organization is no stronger morally than the man in control. It is no stronger in abihty than the men who serve it. And one never knows upon what one man the whole intricate machinery may depend and revolve. The world needs men to-day as never before. There are movements for higher ideals in national affairs waiting for men to lead them.
There are great movements in the people’s religious life waiting for the men who can embody them, and teach, and lead. And the need always finds the man. There is a law of affinity that brings them together. The need brooding over the face of the people seems to bring forth the man imbued with its own spirit, to be its champion, though the higher in the scale of life, the longer time does it take for the maturity that finds a perfect birth; man takes longest of any of the animal creation, finer grained men still longer, and leaders longest yet. The need disregards all questions of birth and blood, training of the schools and social surroundings, so dear to human hearts, and by an unerring intuition goes straight to its man, and patiently waits till he be full ready.
Forgetting, I Press Forward.’’^
one meaning. There is a cheaper use of it for the male of the human race, with the usual supply of organs, and the usual stock of limbs to walk and work with, but with no high controlling aim. And then there is the nobler use of it for that fine spirit, of either sex, which sees the high aim of life, and bends every bit of strength steadily towards reaching it.
I want to have the boldness to talk a bit about a man, the ideal man. In a day when the practical is seizing the lines and driving hard that word ideal is misunderstood and abused. There is nothing so really practical as the truly ideal. Ideal does not mean visionary in the weak sense. It means aiming high; no, it means aiming highest. It has not gotten up there, but it is reaching, stretching up. It is dissatisfied with anything a whit less than the highest level. Its favorite motto is “Forgetting, I press forward.” Forgetting the things behind, I press toward the mark.
The victories are forgotten in the eager reach for greater. The temptations and falls and failures are forgotten except as warnings in the onward push. The ideal man is he who has a vision of the mountain top, and is sweetly, earnestly.
untiringly, unflinchingly making every bit of strength and time and every circumstance bend towards reaching it. And who resolutely pushes aside everything that would hinder or not help.
We want in our talk to-day to get a bit, a good clear bit, of a vision of that mountain top, to reach which is the thing best and most worth while. It will only be a bit, though, at best. For every man must see his own vision. And the vision increases in size and clearness as one climbs. The man we are talking about just now is a trinity. There are three of him tied up together. The three are in a scale ascending from lowest to highest. At the lowxst there is a body; yet though lowest it is never low; at the lowest it is high. The lowest rung of this ladder is high.
A step up is the mind. Every man has a mind, though quite a number do not seem to have suspected that fact. It is peculiar in its make-up; there is a cold-storage room for facts; a photographer’s highly sensitized plate for receiving impressions of all that comes; and a judge sitting above all to weigh and sift and give decisions and guide all below. And highest of all is the spirit which lives in the body, thinks through the mind, and holds the sceptre of the life.
The true man aims steadily to have a trained body, its powers matured or rather maturing, disciplined to obey and under full control. It is to be kept steadily in its place of a faithful servant. That is a very high place, to serve faithfully the purpose intended. He does not coddie his body, nor abuse it; he is not heedless of its requirements; and, above all, he is not ignorant of its nature and needs, and does not allow it to reverse the true order and become master. This man has not attained, but he is reaching, and this is his aim.
A Double Trinity,
On the next higher level is another trinity, a trinity within a trinity, for the mind is that. Through the five in-gates of eye and ear, taste and touch and smell, come in the impressions, the information, the facts that are put away. The intellect is the mind’s cold storage for gathering and holding all that comes. It should be kept clear, cool, and calm, ever alertly listening, keen for facts, gathering, weighing, sifting, sorting and pigeonholing them for use.
Then there is the power to feel, the faculty that is impressed by all that comes, and that gives expression to what is felt, the emotional nature. It should be kept soft so as to record quickly and accurately all that comes in. It properly is susceptible, plastic; on the one hand not stupid, nor on the other overexcited or stale. There is perhaps less training of this faculty, except narrowly in strictly professional studies, as music or art or medical skill, than of either of the other two powers of the mind. It should not be repressed, and should not be dominant. Yet to either one of those extremes does the pendulum usually swing.
There is a tendency among men to repress the feelings, especially the finer feelings. There is a tendency among women to yield unduly to the feelings and allow them to rule. Both are extremes to be carefully avoided. A tear may be as manly as rugged strength. And repressed emotion may be as womanly as the finer fibre of woman’s strength. The tears that stand simply for an emotion spending itself out are hurtful; they do but wear away the strength to help that somebody needs. The tears that tell of a motive touched and stirred into action in behalf of that which called them forth are beauteous with rainbow light.
The duty of the feelings is to note accurately all that comes in and report fully to the will above. One should aim to discipline his emotional nature that it may serve him fully. The man one should be has not reached his aim here, but he is steadily stretching up towards it.
Combined with these is the third and highest member of the mental trinity, the will. The will is the king here; the judge on the highest bench from which no appeal may be taken. It is the autocrat on the throne, with no constitution to limit its sway. There are various words used for the will: purpose is the aim or direction of the will; determination is the quality of the will, telling how much or how little the purpose may be depended upon; jorce is the driving power of the will, telling how much pressure or how little may be brought into play in getting the will’s will done.
The man who would be true to his being keeps all the avenues of approach open to receive all there is, his intellect quietly and steadily at its work, the feeUngs sensitive but well in hand, the will listening to its servants and ruling fairly over all with a gentle but very firm hand.
Then distinctly above both of these is the spirit, the living spirit who resides within this organism of body and mind, animating and dominating all the powers below, and all the life.
Such a man is ambitious, in the true sense of that great word. He is reaching steadily towards the highest levels. Ambition is healthful. I do not mean the feverish, envy-eaten, itching something commonly called by that name, but the simple absorbing desire to attain the highest.
A High Aim.
What is the highest ambition that such an earnest man may attain to? I do not say a high ambition, but the highest. There are many high targets at which men aim. But he is in a bad way who is aiming lower than the highest. And the highest includes all on the way up. These less-high things are added to the man seekting the highest. In all fairness the highest must be one that is open to all men, and possible to all. Leaving untouched many low, ignoble answers, there are among men four distinct standards of highest ambition.
There are many who believe that to know is the highest achievement. Their number ineludes great, worthy names, and many more equally worthy though unnamed by the crowd. And to know is a great aim. Without doubt knowledge is power. It has literally revolutionized all thought, and all methods of living. It has led to the saving of numberless lives, and made the saved lives happier too.
It is good to know, and to know what you know, and, modestly, to know that you know what you know, and that you do not know what you do not know. The old philosopher of Greece declared this to be the true knowledge. But the man who sets this before him as the chief ambition has a keen disappointment ahead. For the more you know the less you know; that is, the more you know of that you do not know. The wilder the circle of knowledge, the broader is the swxep of ignorance. The higher the hill of knowledge you climb, the farther views you get of what you do not know. Knowing is largely a means of discovering the greatness of one’s ignorance. If a man set this before himself as the highest aim he is doomed to bitterest disappointment.
There are those who would take books and manuscripts and like means of research, and, in imitation of the old Hebrews, make a calf of them — shall I say a papier -mdche calf? — and say: “These be thy gods that shall lead out of every Egypt of slavery, up into the promised land.” This is a comparatively small, but very select, company of choice spirits.
This ambition is open to the very small number.
Even in our own land, where the public school is so blessedly common, and colleges large and small of all grades are so plentiful, these are practically, with the exception of the lower school grades, for the few. Only a small proportion of all pubhc-school pupils get as far as the highschool grade, a yet smaller number go to college, and many of these do not complete the course.
The world never knew so much, so many different things as to-day, and never was more ignorant, profoundly ignorant; that is, ignorant in the ignorance of the great masses of men, and ignoant too of the simplest knowledge of true living. It is good to know, and to know the most and best, and to know thoroughly what is known, but plainly knowledge is simply a road through to something higher up. It is not a goal in itself.
A Strange Coat-oj-arms.
Then there is a great company whom nobody ever yet has numbered, of every nation and neighborhood, who plainly believe that to have to possess, is the chief est thing in life. The taint of this infection seems to have gone into all circles. Nothing escapes its unhallowed itch. It has become an epidemic in our own country. The old Hebrews had but one calf. Americans are more prodigal with their calves than that. We have two at least, the paper calf already spoken of and the golden; though the golden can no longer be properly spoken of as a calf. It is a matured bull, but not of the polled type; it has full-grown horns.
Money is extremely handy stuff and extremely dangerous stuff too. How rare the wisdom that reckons it at its full value — and a great, untellable value that is — but keeps it strictly as a servant under the strong thumb of a high purpose. In the partnership of a pure, holy purpose it seems almost omnipotent. But when it is allowed to grip both lines and whip, it drives a man such a pace as to use up all his strength, and leave him utterly winded for anything else.
Though the world has a larger supply of gold than ever before, the vast majority of men are poor, strugglingly, pitiably poor. While there never was’ as good an opportunity as to-day for frugal, steady men to get enough and to spare, the crowd remains needy. And gold in itself is apt both to be and to bring a curse. It is good to have, and to have the most that may be gotten honestly, and unselfishly, and without the fever of it getting into the blood. Its possession increases the possible power of a man enormously.
Yet if getting and having were the highest achievement it would mean that man’s highest estate is to be a safety-deposit vault. The correct coat-of-arms would be a clutching hand. The man develops into a tightly shut fist. The life becomes a gold-plated death. The yellow fever germ of the bank vault is sadly infecting many a noble life to-day. It is good to have for our needs, and for the world’s need, but having is simply a pathway through to something higher. It is not the highest ambition of life.
A Higher Aim.
Then there is a standard above these, much above; the standard of doing. There is a splendid company of those who believe that to do something is the highest ambition possible to man. These are eager to do the notable thing. They would be spoken of as having made a mark. Their names become known and are pronounced with a touch of awe sometimes. This is a distinct step up. It is good to know and to have; it is better to do. Achievement can transfigure both knowledge and gold with rare beauty. It can harness them for the world’s good. When gold is at the command of hands outreaching in eager service it is fulfilling its highest mission.
The gray matter of the brain is greatest when it is tingling at the warm finger-tips of helpful service. The man who knows a great deal but does not make use of it is like one worth a million dollars — all in big copper cents; it is not available for use in that shape. The man who is busy getting money primarily for himseK, not for use among others, is like the Dead Sea. It lies at the deepest depression of the earth’s surface; he lies at the deepest depression below the surface of his fellows’ needs. The man who is bent upon achievement, the doing of some notable, worthy thing, is aiming higher but not highest.
To do something notable is not the highest ambition of life. And yet more thoughtfully be it said that service is not the highest achievement. Wherever there is a God-touched life there vill be service, warm, whole-hearted, untiring service; yet it will be the outflow of something deeper in and deeper down than itself. The man who aims at doing as the chief achievement of his life, without a deeper driving-power, ill come to the end when things clear up, hungry and tired, and both dissatisfied and unsatisfied.
It is good to know, and to have. It is better to do; to do the thing best worth while, to do the most and the best; yet the highest ambition is not found here. It is but a roadway through to somewhere, else, a high roadway and noble, yet only a roadway farther on and higher up.
The Man Waiting to Go Along.
It is good to know; it is better to do; it is best to he. To be pure and strong, to be honest and earnest, to be kindly and thoughtful, and in all to be true, to be manly and womanly and Christly — this is the greatest ambition of life. It is not in knowing or having or doing, but through knovdng and having and doing the best, it is in being, in what a man is in himself. He can do most for others who has done most with himself. Mastery of circumstances comes only through mastery of self.
The highest sphere of action is within. The little Corsican Emperor of the French could win great lictories on the battlefield, but he could not overcome the horribly selfish ambitions, hungrily eating the heart out of his human spirit; The man of Tarsus and Antioch had as intense an ambition, as great a grasp, and as strong a will, but his chief ambition was to be well-pleasing to his Master, his grasp was upon his own nature to bring it into subjection, and his will drove him over the world, that all men might know the same blessed self-mastery through Jesus.
He is aiming at Hf e’s highest goal who, knowing the most and best, and seeking to have all he needs and can wisely use, and doing the best and most, rests not content in any of these, but hungrily pushes on towards purity of heart and simplicity of life. The greatest ambition is not knowledge nor possessions, nor notable achievement, but it is in being pure, and strong, and gentle, and warm; that is to say, being Christly.
It makes the heart glow to remember that this highest achievement of life is open to all. Only the few, the very few, become widely versed in knowledge, or possess large means, or achieve the notable things. The great majority of us remain ignorant and poor and obscure. But any of us, and every one of us, may reach to the highest level in this highest sphere. The mountain white, the plantation black, the man crowded in the city slum or in roomier, pleasanter quarters, the savage just emerging from his generations of savagery, the cultured and universitybred, the money rich and the money poor — all may enter here, and reach to the highest rung.
The one most limited in circumstance may touch the loftiest level. The one in most favored conditions may go as high, but can go no higher.
And mark keenly how this affects all the life in these other matters. Where the warm, ldtalizing touch of the spirit of Christ is upon the life there is an eager thirst for knowledge. The new birth always includes a new mental birth too. There will be earnestness in the vocation, the occupation; a strong purpose to make things count for the most. There will be too an aggressive spirit of work and service, a desire to achieve the best possible within reach. But these will grow up out of that first; they will have the sweet wholesomeness of the dominant purpose of the life. The passion to be masterful in purity, in gentleness of strength, and simplicity of life, with Jesus as both example and inspiration, will be the dominant thing.
This is the mountain top. Here is the pure, invigorating air, the far view of great beauty and inspiration, the inward sense of strength from the climb, and rarest fellowship with like spirits. A man never gets to the tip-top, though. For as the top is reached a new top higher up comes into view, and then from that a higher yet. There is always the upward lift of a higher level just above.
But the climber can’t get very high alone. He would better not try. He is apt to make some bad stumbles, and lose the main road. He does not need to go alone. There is a Man waiting at the beginning of the path, with a face that is scarred but rarely beautiful, and a most winsome way. He has been up the road with many others. Those scars tell the story of the road He has travelled. We may each go along with Him as our personal guide and friend on the way. Let us go.
THE PROBLEM OF SELF-MASTERY
The Greatest Battlefield.
Ditching Life’s Stream.
The Original Image.
“Study to Keep Quiet.”
Living Musically.
In Step with God.
Living in the Essentials.
The Foes of Self-Mastery.
Yielding to the Mastery of Jesus.