Furniture?

In fixing up your room, your house, or personal surroundings, have good, comfortable furniture for rest and for work, but not for show. Be simple, even to the extent of being severe. The fewer things you have, the better off you are. Shun all other possessions as the devil would holy water. Have nothing that is not for a definite purpose and that you do not actually use. The criterion to be applied to these is not what you can find use for, but what you cannot get along without. A traveller who knows his business can travel on very slender baggage, and be perfectly comfortable and clean. Consider yourself a traveller through this world, and study to cut down your baggage. Thus you will avoid dissipation, and keep your freedom.

Pictures?

Yes. Do not be afraid to cultivate the artistic. It is a card thrown to the discard, but one which you cannot regret. Do not have too many. A jumble of pictures is not what you want, but a few good ones. Only beware lest a craze for expensive pictures overtake you, which would interfere with your more definite object. If, however, your career lies in the line of the artistic, the purchase and collection of fine pictures come well within the golden things passed by our touchstone. Many men get a craze after the futile,—a hobby it is usually called; and they will dissipate great amounts of energy in collecting such things as postage-stamps, post-marks, or some other object of little use, and at great expense of time and money.

If you allow such things to distract your attention from your object, you may lose it entirely, just as you lose sight of something in the hands of a conjurer who has succeeded in directing your attention to something of momentary interest. In this connection it is well to say that the habit of spending must be avoided. Let a large expenditure be a circumstance. You can afford, however, to spend money on charities even to the point of dissipation. It is a cultivation of the heart. It might prove a career; and so, before your object is chosen, you approach it, as a possibility, afterward, as a card for the discard, in either case creditable.

There are other classes of desires which appeal to the sensuous and sensual nature of man. Among these can be reckoned a taste for opium or morphine, a taste for women, or for those kinds of literature and drama which appeal to the sensuous nature. All these desires are like drunkenness, in that no one is the better off for gratifying them. Arguments of all sorts will be brought forward by men who have yielded to these desires; but, while convincing the one who is eager to be convinced, they are all of the negative sort,—they try to prove there is no reason why they should not. Our touchstone will not pass any such arguments: there must be positive reason why you should do a thing, otherwise do not do it.

This may seem Puritanical, but let’s be Puritans to a certain extent. Play no games that are not distinctly winning games. There is a winning game to be played. Why, then, play a game which is neither a winning nor a losing game? It never gave me any pleasure to gamble with a machine or with cards, because I know these to be losing games. The plan of the game is always laid out so that the balance of chance is slightly against the player, sometimes considerably against the player, else why should the game be started?

We are left better off in no respect after all these desires are gratified. We are poorer in money, in pocket, in self-respect, and often in virtue.

We could go on so indefinitely through the list of all sorts of desires, but I have only touched upon a few of the more crucial ones to show how the touchstone should be applied; and even then results are crude, and would be of little help to you in fixing on a low scale of expenditure. They may, however, give you some ideas which will seem to guide you when you come to meet the problems for yourself.

And now we come back to the original question, whether you really want a pony. There are several really good ones in the stable that you can use. You are to be away a large part of the year, and you have never made half the use which you might have of your opportunities to ride.