To such a man, all pity, but we will not allow him to escape until we have given him a pat on the back and pointed out the right road to travel. We mustn't preach to him or undertake to force him to do anything, but we will at least give him a helping hand and show him that there is a royal road to his goal.
This man needs first of all to build upon his physique. Perhaps he has a bad stomach, and likewise bad teeth. Exercise—regular exercise, should be the first thing on his program. Fresh air, long walks, deep breathing, dumb bells, boxing, rowing, skating in season—and wholesome companionship day by day. In the long run boxing will become his most efficient exercise. When a man can take a blow between the eyes and come back for more he has begun to fortify his own combativeness. That is what he needs in life's battles—the nerve to come back for more after a slam on the jaw that would lay another man low. And when it's all said and done and the exercise game has become a feature of his day's work, he must settle down to good plain food and plenty of sleep. There is nothing in all the world like these things combined for the upbuilding and upholding of health and courage.
Our success is a matter of our courage. A man who can steel himself to be knocked down and get up immediately afterwards and hand the other fellow a ripping punch has added to his own "pep." All courage is of the same cloth, whether physical, moral or spiritual. To build upon one is to build up the others—the human system being constructed on such a basis that if one part is affected all the rest follow suit.
A man who isn't afraid of a physical combat will readily match his wits with his fellow man. Physical training is therefore all important to initiative and self-reliance.
Our natural aim is to make for ourselves a true personality that does not know defeat. When we come to an obstacle we must be able to hurdle it. It is all very well to say that the longest way around is the shortest way across, but it doesn't sound like initiative and self-reliance. There is one thing about men who rely upon themselves—they make no excuses, nor do they puff up over victory.
Posing for applause is as distasteful to them as standing for abuse. All they ask is a square deal and the confidence of their associates. If they fall down on a proposition they get up and go at it again until success crowns their efforts. Such men have a way of turning defeat into victory.
How immeasurably inferior to such a spirit is the fellow who whines and moans at every evil twist of fortune. He has no confidence in himself and nothing else to do except confide his woes to all who will listen to his cowardly story of defeat. Such men are least useful in the important work of this world. They are the humdrum hirelings—the dumb followers. The pitiful part of it all is that they could have succeeded had they but taken stock of themselves when the taking was good. But while there is life there is hope—likewise a chance. It is up to us.
One of the startling things about men of initiative is the way they come forward in times of trouble. We don't have to point to Andrew Jackson in the War of 1812. We can look around us. Take, for example, a great fire. Haven't we often read of the brave fireman who sprang forward and by doing the right thing instantly, saved a multitude of lives? Well, such a man is possessed of self-reliance. He is trained for the hazardous life he leads. When the emergency arose he was ready in a jiffy to do the work expected of him.
It is safe to say that without training such men would have botched the job and instead of being praised to the skies would have sunk into oblivion under the heap of public scorn. Sometimes it happens that a man accidentally becomes a hero, but it was no accident that he was able to become one. He must have had initiative—he must have had self-reliance. Archibald C. Butt was such a man. He went down on the Titanic. The last act of his life was to help women and children into the boats and calm their minds as they were lowered away. Astor was of the same metal—both sublimely oblivious to the terrible fate which hung over them. Here was initiative and self-reliance in its highest form.
And this sort of man is everywhere. The car in which we ride to work every morning contains one or more of them. Let something happen and we will see them spring forward with a line of action already formed. At their word of command we automatically obey—and then when the worst is over a kindly voice reassures us and we go on our way rejoicing.