A LETTER TO YOUNG FOLKS ON MAKING, KEEPING, AND CHOOSING FRIENDS.
IF we look at people who get on in the world, we see that it is not chance that gave them success or accounts for their power. Sometimes it seems as if it was luck, not work, that pushes some ahead. Occasionally it has much to do with it, but on closer study it will be found that for every time chance is the means of one man's rise, work is the ladder by which a hundred rise, and that often making and keeping friends has had as much to do with it as diligence. To all young folks this is an art worth more than any learned in the schools, tho many things and ways taught there are a great help to this. Making Ready for Friends.
That wisest of books, the Bible, gives the best short rule,—“A man that hath friends must show himself friendly.” Few who do this will live and die friendless. But what if one has traits or faults that hide his efforts to show himself friendly, or stop people from looking at him at all, or lead them to try to keep away from him? To get friends he must rid himself of things that no one likes. There are many such, and often those who have them do not know it. Some are snappish. If one speaks to them, and they do not feel happy, they snarl like a cross dog. As no one can tell how he will be met, such are let alone and have few friends. Some are too shy; they avoid people, and when spoken to hang their heads as tho they had been caught at something wrong; or if they answer, seem dull or stupid. Often smart boys and bright girls act so because they are timid. Some are too bold; they treat all alike, push forward, talk back to parents and parents' friends, and where they are no one else gets a chance to speak or be heard. They do not know it, and when they are not wanted think they are treated meanly. Others are too quickly nettled. A little thing will make them angry, and right in the midst of a pleasant talk when no one has meant to cross them, they sulk or rage, or it may be want to fight. Or they cry out, “I won't play with you any more;” those who start this way are likely to keep it up as they grow older, and if they do will lose the chance to say it, for few will have much to do with them. The feelings of others are too readily hurt. They can not take a joke, or bear the slightest word of fault-finding. They do not “get mad,” but think nobody loves them, and it takes so long to comfort them that their companions are likely to go off and leave them to “cry it out.” Some are vulgar; they say or do such things that only those like them are willing to spend much time with them. They are not neat in person, do not keep hands or face or clothing clean, have no “manners,” look so bad that it is a shame to be seen with them, or are liable to break out with some talk or act that is not decent, or only “half-way decent.” A boy or a girl who has traits or faults like these does not make many, if any, friends that will be worth much in after life. Liars can have no friends; for none can or will trust them after this is known. To “big talk” young folks are liable. They hear “twenty wolves” when there are only a couple of dogs; they can jump ten feet when seven would tax their leaping powers. They have just “killed a snake a yard long;” but if the snake's skin were used as a measure, they would need twice as much goods to make them a coat as they do now. The boy or girl who has done something they do not like is the “most horrid thing that ever lived.” But tho the things they say are not correct, no one calls them “liars.” It is the one who keeps back a part of the truth, or tells it so as to deceive, or who makes up a falsehood to gain or hide something or to hurt some one else, that can have no friends. Those who tell secrets, and such as speak evil of others behind their backs, are driving their friends away, and what they do to others will be done to them. One who always tries to get everything for himself, who crowds, and pushes, and twists, and squirms to get something from others, is often hated, and surely never loved. Yet there are many of them. A quaint old story takes them off well: A little boy walking along to school and eating a luscious, large and mellow bellflower apple, was met by a big boy who said, “Tommy, give me a bite.” He cheerfully passed up the apple. The huge jaw of the piggish youth opened and closed over two-thirds of the apple. The little fellow, seeing how he was to be despoiled of his feast, cried out, “O Billy, you keep the apple and give me the bite!” Many such there are, and some get on by such means and may be able to buy the work of many servants, but they never gain the love of one whom they treat so. Think about these things. Try to find out what you do or say or think or feel that may cause those to dislike you whose friendship you would be glad to have. Do not despise mother's persuasions, father's counsels, teacher's hints, employer's advice, or pastor's suggestions. Ask the best and wisest friend you have a few years older than yourself, to tell you if any trait makes you disagreeable. Should one who dislikes you some day blurt out some sharp criticism, do not let it anger you, but think it over. Even if not true as he utters it, ask yourself whether he saw anything in you that started the idea in his mind, or that would give color to it when others heard it from his lips. Often an enemy sees our faults when our friends in their love gloss them over or do not see them at all. But you might prune yourself well and not have a serious fault or disagreeable trait left, yet not have friends. You might only be not disagreeable, but have nothing to draw others to you. In a “seminary for young ladies” the girl with the sweetest face, the most graceful carriage, the finest figure, and the best manners had no friends. She knew it, and felt bad over it; but when she asked one of the teachers why it was, she had to hear a reply that hurt her like a wasp's sting. It was not sharp in manner, for the teacher was glad to be asked and meant to be kind. The reply was, “What did you ever do that looked as if you wanted any friends?” To make friends one must seek to make others happy, and try to be helpful to them. Mere acquaintances are without strong affection for each other; friends are joined in heart. This it is which makes the passing out of acquaintanceship into friendship so delightful. “Last year,” said a merchant, “was one of the best years of my life.” “Why?” “Because I found a true friend.” “How long had you known him?” “Five or ten years. First I knew him, then I liked him, next I found he liked me, and this last year both of us woke up to the fact that we were fast friends. O, it was a great year for me.” Inquiry showed that these two business men—the rivals—had cultivated agreeableness; had appreciated every kindness, and had shown that they did by returning kindness with kindness; had not sought to injure one another, and had borne patiently what at first they could not understand in each other's conduct, sure that all would be right in the end. Nothing except stones and the like last long without food or fuel. So that he who would keep his friends must treat them as friends in joy or grief. He can lose a friend by neglect; the betrayal of confidence; by habitually treating him as a convenience or as an inferior; by putting too much pressure upon him; by holding him to his promises and not being careful to keep his own; by making him “own up and ask pardon,” and never doing so himself. Some may not be drawn to you by your efforts to please them, but they will not be indifferent, and their acquaintance may be valuable all thru life. Some will prove life-long companions, helps, examples, comforters, counselors, and perhaps protectors,—reliable friends when you need them; confiding friends when they need you. You and they will be friends so long as you live, and if you both are friends of Him who said, “Ye are My friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you,” your friendship will renew itself when you meet in that place where all changes are for the better, and all friendships grow stronger and sweeter.—Christian Advocate.