Analyzing Character Part 17

"My life is a failure," wrote Sydney Williams to us, "and I do not know why."

In middle life my grandfather Williams moved his family across the Potomac River from Virginia in order to study to enter the ministry. He is said to have freed some slaves at that time, so he must have been a 'planter,' He became a Congregational minister. My grandfather Jacobs was a carpenter; but, as I knew him, and for some years before my birth, he was a helpless invalid from paralysis on one side.

My father graduated from college and then became a minister. He preached for many years, then he took up work with a religious publis.h.i.+ng house, finally having charge of the work at St. Paul. He was there, I believe, when he was elected president of a small school for girls. He a.s.sumed his new duties in June and I was born the following November. (I am the youngest of eleven children, of whom there are now three boys and five girls still living, three boys having died while still babies before my birth.)

Until I was nearly twelve years old we lived at the girls' school, which father succeeded in greatly enlarging. Mother taught me to read a little and write a little. She and others read to me a great deal. I had no playmates except my nephews and nieces, to whom I was continually being pointed out as a 'model.' Out of the sight of the grown-ups, I was not always such a model as they could have wished; yet I did feel a certain amount of responsibility that was oppressive and repressive. When nearly eleven, I was sent to the public school, where I was soon promoted with two others. The next year father and mother moved into a larger town, so that I had a few months of real home life before my father's death in April, 1893.

Then my mother, her mother, and I went to Wisconsin to live with a married sister of mine whose husband was the Presbyterian minister there.

I entered the fourth grade of the public school that fall; but, by the end of the school year, I had completed the fifth grade.

My mother died in May, 1896. I continued to live with my sister. Finished the seventh grade that June, but entered preparatory school that fall. In November, 1897, my brother-in-law moved to Iowa, and I made the mistake of deciding to go with him. While living in Wisconsin, I had become acquainted with a fine lot of boys. One of them organized a small military company; I was elected quarter-master and, later, lieutenant. I now know that that was because we were considered 'rich,' Also in Wisconsin I overcame some of my extreme bashfulness in regard to girls, derived from babyhood experiences. In fact, one reason I decided to leave Wisconsin was the fear that the friends.h.i.+p with one girl might become too serious; I was beginning to shun responsibility.

ATTAINMENTS IN SCHOLARs.h.i.+P

In Iowa I entered the high school and completed the tenth grade the next June (1898). My elder brother was my official guardian and he wanted me to make a change. As a result, in September, 1898, I had my first experience of being away alone by entering a famous academy. There I earned the reputation of being a 'grind,' and graduated second in my cla.s.s in June, 1901. While there I went out for football, and made the third team and even played once on the second. My poor eyesight hindered me somewhat, but still more the fact that I was not eager to fall down on the ball on the hard ground when it did not seem to me necessary. I was quite ready to get hurt, if there was any reason for it. That, too, was a mistake on my part.

That September I entered Harvard University. My father had left some insurance, and mother left some of it to me for a college education. She expected, as did my sisters and brothers, that I would become a minister.

By the end of my Freshman year I had decided that I could not do so, but from that time I was unable to decide what I did want to do or could do.

Consequently I did not get the good out of a college education that I might have. Moreover, though I stood fairly well in most of my cla.s.ses, I did not always understand the subjects as well as the professors thought I did. As soon as it became possible to elect subjects, I dropped Latin, Greek, and German, and specialized in history, economics, etc. I graduated 'c.u.m Laude,' But that was really a failure, considering what I might have done.

But I did well enough to receive recommendation for a $500 fellows.h.i.+p that enabled me to return for another year. I did work which caused me to be recommended for an A.M. degree. But I felt that I had so little in comparison with others, that I was actually ashamed to receive it.

Socially, however, that extra year was a very delightful one for me.

During two summers as an undergraduate, I worked at Nantasket Beach selling tickets in the bathing pavilion for $50 a month, besides room and board. I made good, much to the surprise of the superintendent.

HUNTING A JOB

So then I was finally through college in June, 1906. It is almost incredible how very childlike I still was, so far as my att.i.tude toward the world was concerned. I had high ideals, and I wanted to get into business, but where or how I did not know. Moreover, my money was gone. A student gave me a note with which I intended to get his previous summer's job as a starter on an electric car line owned by a railway company. The position was abolished, however, so I became a conductor on a suburban line. Unfortunately, my motorman was a high-strung, nervous Irishman, who made me so nervous that I often could not give the signals properly, and who made life generally unpleasant for me. He professed a liking for me and did prevent one or two serious accidents. At the same time, he said I was the first 'square' conductor he had ever worked with, and, no doubt, he missed his 'extra,' After three weeks of him, and of the general public's idea that I must, of course, be knocking down fares, I resigned.

However, the superintendent offered me a job as 'inspector' of registers on the main line, a job that he was just creating. When the rush was over after Labor Day, I was again out of a job. I might have secured a clerks.h.i.+p with the railway company, but I was foolish enough not to try.

A few weeks later found me established in the district office of a correspondence school not very far from New York City as a representative.

At first I gave good promise of success, but I lost my enthusiasm and belief in the school and became ashamed to be numbered as one of its workers because of the character of most of the local field force at that time and before my time. The reputation of the school in that place was not very good. Also I was not successful in collecting the monthly payments from those who had hard luck stories or had been lied to by the man who had enrolled them. By the end of two months I was ready to quit, but my immediate superior begged me to stay, in order to keep him from having to break in a new man just then. At the end of about four months I did resign to save being kicked out. Mind you, I was to blame, all right; for I had given up a real continuous effort beyond the merest routine and the attempt to collect the monthly payments. While I was there I did write a few contracts, among them a cash one amounting to $80. But, toward the end, my lack of success was due to my utter disgust with myself for being so blamed poor and for s.h.i.+rking.

AN ATTEMPT IN ORANGE CULTURE

Going back to a brother in New York, I tried to land a job, but, of course, in such a state of mind, I could not. Then I went to my older brother in Cincinnati, where he was, and is, the pastor of a large church.

Unfortunately, he did not take me by the back of the neck and kick me into some kind of work, any kind. At last, in March, 1908, he helped me to come out West. I landed in Los Angeles, and indirectly through a friend of his I secured a job on an orange ranch in the San Gabriel Valley, which I held until the end of the season. Once more I was happy and contented. It was certainly a pleasure to work.

That fall, or rather winter (1908), I secured a place near San Diego, where I had shelter and food during the winters and small wages during the active seasons in return for doing the ch.o.r.es and other work.

I had become possessed with a desire for an orange grove, and refused to consider how much it would take to develop one. I was finally able to secure a small tract of unimproved land. But I found that the task of clearing it would be too great for me because of the great trees, so for this and other reasons I s.n.a.t.c.hed at a chance to file on a homestead in the Imperial Valley. This was in May, 1910. Later that summer I was able to sell my piece of land near San Diego at a profit, so that in September I went over to get settled on my homestead. I employed a fellow to help me make a wagon trail for a mile or more and to build my cabin for me. I moved in the first of November. Early in 1912 I decided it would be impossible to irrigate enough land there to make a living at that time.

Also the difficulties of living alone so far out in the desert were greater than I had antic.i.p.ated. With the help of a friend, I was able to make final proof in July and pay the government for the 160 acres, instead of having to continue to live on it. I did stay, however, until the general election in 1912.

AT WORK IN A SURVEYING CREW

Then I went to Los Angeles to get something to do. The town was full of people seeking work, as usual, most of whom could present better records than I could. To be sure, my friends and even my old correspondence school boss gave me splendid recommendations, but I felt my lack of business training and feared that 999 out of any 1,000 employers would not take a chance with me on such a record as I had. Consequently I did not try very hard. For a while I was with a real estate firm trying to secure applications for a mortgage. The commission was $25, but, naturally, that did not go far toward expenses. It was not long before I was in a bad mental condition again through worrying, self-condemnation, and uncertainty. It would not have been difficult to prove that I was 'insane.'

Finally an acquaintance of mine, a prominent lawyer, took up my case. He has a good personal and business friend who is the general manager of a large oil company with headquarters here in Bakersfield. When first appealed to, this gentleman refused point blank, because he had a bad opinion of college graduates in general (I really don't blame him or other business men); but the lawyer used his influence to the utmost with the result that I came up here in March, 1913, and was sent up into the oil fields. I was put under the civil engineer, and for two months I was sort of 'inspector' and 'force account' man in connection with the building of a supply railroad, but I gradually worked into the regular surveying crew, first as subst.i.tute rear chainman, and then as the regular one. Before long I was head chainman. I could have remained a chainman with the same crew to this time, but I left a little over a year ago, as there once more seemed a chance to earn a place in the country.

ANOTHER ATTEMPT AT ORANGE CULTURE

A young fellow, now located near Bakersfield, whom I had known in San Diego, told me great tales that I was too anxious to believe, and finally made some fine promises to help me get a piece of what he said was his land and to bring it to a productive state. But when I reached his place, in February, he was not ready, willing or able to carry out his promises.

He kept me hanging on, however, and as I had used up my savings in a month's attendance at the short course of the State agricultural college and in bringing my goods from Bakersfield, I was compelled to get work from him as one of his orchard gang. I helped to set out several hundred trees and berry plants, and later knew what it meant to hoe for ten hours a day. I left him the latter part of July in order to work out a scheme I had thought of.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 25. "Sydney Williams." For a.n.a.lysis see pages 206 to 210. Here is a fine, capable intellect, good sense of humor, optimism, cheerfulness, great refinement, and excellent critical powers in art and literature. But there is a deficiency of practicability. Note smallness and flatness of brows, narrowness of head just above the ears, fineness of features and height of head in center, above temples.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 26. "Sydney Williams." Note flatness of brows; smallness and fineness of features; fineness of texture; height of forehead and crown.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 27. Prof. Adolf von Menzel, Sociologist. A man of great intellect, especially interested in theoretical and statistical studies of people, in the ma.s.s, but not greatly interested in practical, material affairs. Note immense dome of forehead and head, with flatness at brows.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 28. Edgar Allan Poe, Poet. Impractical, deficient in financial sense, but keenly alive to a world of fancy, ideals, dreams, imagery, beauty, mysticism and tragedy. Note high forehead, wide above, flat at brows and concave at sides; small nose and mouth, deep-set, gloomy eyes; dark complexion; and lack of symmetry and balance in head and features.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 29. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Author. Highly intellectual, sentimental, impractical, sensitive, emotional. A man of high ideals and beautiful thoughts, and creative power. Note high, dome-shaped head; flat, high brows, fine, delicate features; weak mouth, and general softness of contour and expression.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Copyright by Harper & Brothers, N. Y_.

FIG. 30. Thomas De Quincy, Author. A man of fine, discriminating, logical intellect along purely mental lines, but impractical in material affairs.

Note high, prominent forehead, with flat, poorly-developed brows, weak nose and mouth and narrow head.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 31. O. Henry, at the age of thirty. Impractical, lacking in desire for money and financial judgment. Creative, humorous, a lover of human nature, mild, rather easy-going, idealistic, constant. Note high forehead, flat at brows, full at sides along top, concave nose, full lips, prominent chin.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 32. Edwin Reynolds, of Wisconsin. Of the practical, matter-of-fact, literal type of intellect. Interested in facts, keenly observant, quick in thought, alert and positive in his mental activities.

Note high, sloping forehead, very prominent at the brows, large nose, high in the bridge and well-developed.]

"The first part of September I moved back to Bakersfield. I tried out my scheme by mail on two of the most prominent men in the country (one of the times when I had plenty of nerve). It did not work and the time did not seem auspicious for trying it on a greater number, especially as I did not have money enough to do it properly.

"While still working for the orchard man, I began to do some work in getting subscriptions for the Curtis publications. I did get a few. Later, about the middle of October, I went to Los Angeles, where I had a booth at an exhibition for three weeks in the interest of a publis.h.i.+ng house. But it did not pay expenses, and I was deeper in debt than ever. I landed in Bakersfield nearly 'broke.' Thanks to the kindness of the people where I roomed and boarded, I was able to pull through until I obtained a loan last week, secured by a mortgage on my homestead.

"I was entirely unable to force myself to do any real canva.s.sing while I was absolutely in need of each commission, but, now that I once more have a bank account, I hope to make myself keep at it until I can feel moderately successful. That is the one job I have fallen down on over and over (I have not even mentioned many of the attempts), and I believe I could be a real salesman if I could only get over my fear of approaching people on any proposition of immediate profit to me."

Here we have in detail the old, old story. How often have you heard of the man who graduated with high honors at the head of his cla.s.s and was unable to make a living afterward? How many men of highest scholars.h.i.+p have you met who could not make a living for themselves and their families? Not long ago we were offered the services of a man who had degrees from several universities in America and Europe, who was master of several languages, and who was glad to offer to do a little translating at twenty-five cents an hour.

AN a.n.a.lYSIS OF SYDNEY WILLIAMS

What handicaps these men? They have good intellects, or they would be unable to win high honors in colleges and universities. It is fitting that they should educate themselves highly, since they are so capable of attainment in scholars.h.i.+p. Surely, they ought to do some intellectual work of some kind, because they are not fitted for manual labor. Where do they belong? What is their particular type? What opportunities are there for their unquestioned talents?

Here is what we wrote to Sydney Williams:

"From photographs and data submitted, I should judge your type of organization, character and apt.i.tudes to be as follows:

"You have inherited only a fairly good physical const.i.tution. You will always need to take care of yourself, but there is absolutely no reason why you should worry in regard to your health.

"Under stress and strain your nervous system may give you trouble, and there may be some tendency to digestive disturbances, but if you will practice moderation, live on a well-balanced and sensibly selected diet, and keep yourself from extremes of every kind you will probably maintain very fair health and strength for many years.

"Intellectually you have a good, active mind of the theoretical type. Your mind is quick to grasp theories, ideals, abstractions, and such intangible and purely mental concepts. Your imagination is active, and is inclined to run away with plans, schemes, and inventions, with speculations and with visions of future prospects. However, your plans and inventions are liable to be purely along mental and intellectual lines, rather than practical.