PUNCTUALITY.
An English traveller, who has just published an account of a Journey in Holland, makes the following remark—"The Dutch are as punctual as they are industrious and parsimonious. The diligences and treckschuyts start at the time appointed, during the striking of the clock. If you are told that the hour is seven, you may be sure to be away before the fourth of the seven strokes has sounded.—The precision at which the hour of arrival is fixed, is such that you may depend upon it within a few minutes; and the same reliance may be placed on the period of finishing the journey, whether it be made by water or by land." This is a most valuable trait of character in that people, and is well worthy of universal imitation. There are a considerable proportion of mankind who are always behind-hand.—Let them make ever so many or so important engagements, as it respects punctuality in time, they invariably fail.—Many such have fallen within our observation; and the same want of exactness in point of time attends all their concerns. If they go to church upon the sabbath, they will not get there until after the services have commenced—and this happens to good, sober, pious Christians, as well as others; and it happens all their lives. Such is the inveteracy of this habit of negligence, that people, who would be shocked at the irreverence of any person who should so far forget himself as to disturb the devotions of a religious congregation by speaking, or in any other thoughtless manner, seem to have no idea that their entrance into the church in the midst of the most solemn exercises, has any thing in it improper or censurable.
The same thing occurs in the attendance of such persons upon public business, where they are associated with others. At meetings, appointed for the transaction of such business, if any considerable number are necessary to its accomplishment, there is often, and indeed usually, as much time spent in waiting for a quorum, as is consumed in attending to the object of the meeting. This is a great hardship upon those who make a point of being strictly punctual, for it costs them a double quantity of time. And these behind-hand persons, if they would only suffer themselves to reflect, could not fail to remember, that punctuality would cost themselves no more time than the want of it. Judging from considerable experience and observation, we are very well convinced, that about as much time is spent in waiting for dilatory people, as is necessary for transacting the business immediately in view when appointments for the purpose are made.
Espriella, if we do not mistake the writer, mentions his having taken passage in a stage coach at York, in England, which was to start at a certain hour. A few minutes before the time, every thing was prepared; the passengers took their seats; the coachman mounted his box, took the reins and his whip, but did not move. Upon being inquired of why he did not start, as every thing was ready, he replied, he was waiting for the Minster—which meant the cathedral church of that name. In a minute or two the secret was explained—the Minster clock began to strike, and before it had finished, the carriage was on its way.—We have no doubt that this habit in the driver made every body who intended to make use of his vehicle strictly punctual. If, however, instead of starting at the moment, he had practised waiting 5 minutes, occasionally, there would have been much delay and vexation, by the dilatoriousness of these behind-hand persons of whom we are speaking. We scarcely ever recollect to have been on the wharf when a steamboat was casting off, without finding some person left, or running with breathless speed to get aboard, being a few minutes too late. Such persons, when they find themselves safe on the deck, will almost always look at their watches, and find it a few minutes later than they imagined, or their watches a little too slow, or something else is made chargeable with the evil—when the honest truth is, they are naturally or habitually behind-hand.
It is not easy to imagine, unless our attention has been particularly turned to the subject, how much time is lost, and how much a man's affairs suffer, from this dilatory disposition. It will more or less run through and affect all his concerns. A dilatory man is perpetually in a hurry. His business always drives him—and business transacted in a hurry, is rarely well done. We once knew a respectable mechanic, whose habit of punctuality was such, that in carrying on his trade quite extensively for more than forty years, he never disappointed a single customer by not having his work done at the time appointed—he never failed of sitting down to his meals within five minutes of the time—he made his family, as well as his workmen, conform strictly to his rules of punctuality—and it hardly need be added, that he always supported the fairest reputation as a man of business—and that he acquired an independent property, beyond the handsome support of a large and expensive family.
[N. Y. Daily Adv.