It is this indescribable quality, which some persons have in a remarkable degree, which sets an audience wild at the mention of the name of a Lincoln or a Blaine,—which makes people applaud beyond the bounds of enthusiasm. It was this peculiar atmosphere which made Clay the idol of his constituents. Although, perhaps, Calhoun was a greater man, he never aroused any such enthusiasm as “the mill-boy of the slashes.” Webster and Sumner were great men, but they did not arouse a tithe of the spontaneous enthusiasm evoked by men like Blaine and Clay.

A historian says that in measuring Kossuth’s influence over the masses, “we must first reckon with the orator’s physical bulk, and then carry the measuring line above his atmosphere.” If we had discernment fine enough and tests delicate enough, we could not only measure the personal atmosphere of individuals, but could make more accurate estimates concerning the future possibilities of schoolmates and young friends. We are often misled as to the position they are going to occupy from the fact that we are apt to take account merely of their ability, and do not reckon this personal atmosphere or magnetic power as a part of their success capital. Yet this individual atmosphere has quite as much to do with one’s advancement as brain-power or education. Indeed, we constantly see men of mediocre ability, but with fine personal presence, being rapidly advanced over the heads of those who are infinitely their superiors in mental endowments.

Walt Whitman used to say that a man is not all included between his hat and his boots. This is but another way of putting the fact, proved by science, that our personality extends beyond our bodies. It is not who we are, how we are dressed, or how we look, whether we are homely or handsome, educated or uneducated, so much as what we are that creates that subtle mysterious atmosphere of personality which either draws people to us or drives them from us.

If you are exclusive; if you always want to keep by yourself and read, even though it be for self-improvement; if you love to get in a seat by yourself when you travel; if you shrink from mixing or getting acquainted with others on the road or in hotel lobbies; if people bore or irritate instead of interest you, you will never make a great salesman. You must be a good mixer, a “good fellow” in the highest sense of the word (not a dissipater); you must be popular because of your lovable human qualities, or you will not have that peculiar drawing power which invites confidence and attracts business. No matter what other excellent qualities he may possess, the exclusive man is rarely, if ever, magnetic; he doesn’t draw people to him; on the contrary, he keeps them at a distance.

I know of an exclusive salesman of this sort who for lack of this drawing quality is making a very poor showing in his business. Although a splendid fellow in many respects, a man of high ideals and sterling honesty, he is not popular, because he has never learned to be a mixer, never learned to be a good fellow, to approach people with a smile and a cheery greeting, to hold out the glad hand of fellowship.

When he registers in a hotel, even if he has been there many times, he just bows to the clerk, secures his room, and retires to it at once. He loves books, is quite a student, but he does not care to be with people any more than he can help. The other traveling salesmen do not like him. His distant, dignified personality repels them. In a word, his exclusiveness and his lack of magnetism have largely strangled his effectiveness as a salesman.

It takes warm human qualities to make a good salesman. You cannot sell things by the use of mere cold technique, however perfect. You must establish sympathetic, wireless connection with the prospect’s mind by making him feel that you are not only very much of a man to start with, but that you have a lot of human sympathy, and are really anxious to serve him, to put a good thing in his way.

Some salesmen have no more real sympathy for their prospect than they would have for a Hindoo image. Their voices carry no more sympathy, no more real human feeling than a talking machine. The house that employs them might as well send out phonographs to repeat their mechanical salesman story. They may hold customers who know that the firm they represent has an excellent reputation, but they have no power to attract new ones.

There is no other factor which enters so largely into success in business, in social, and in professional life, as does personality. There is nothing else which has such an influence in our dealings with others.

It is one of the salesman’s greatest assets. It will make all the difference in the world to him whether he is sociable, magnetic, with an attractive, agreeable, cheerful temperament, or whether he is grouchy, cranky, disagreeable and arouses antagonism in those with whom he deals.