"Yes."

"And are you not convinced that it is necessary for you to follow some occupation? I gave you a choice of professions; but you preferred, you said, a mercantile life."

"Yes. And still, when I reflect on the subject, my preference is for a mercantile life."

"Then, George, you must compel yourself to be interested in your new pursuit."

"I have tried, father."

"Then, _try again_!" replied Mr. Prentice, with peculiar emphasis, at the same time casting a significant glance at his son.

These simple words thrilled through the mind of George Prentice. The past rose up before him, with its doubts, its difficulties, and its triumphs. Springing suddenly to his feet, he said with emphasis,----

"I _will_ try again."

"And you will succeed."

"Yes; I feel that I shall."

And he did succeed in obtaining a thorough practical knowledge of business; for he applied himself with patient and fixed determination, and soon became interested in his new pursuits.

At the age of twenty-five, he entered into business for himself, with a small capital furnished him by his father. The house in which he had been employed was engaged in the West India trade, and as his familiarity with this line of business was more intimate than with any other, he determined to turn his little capital in that direction.

Accordingly, after renting a small warehouse on one of the princ.i.p.al wharves, he proceeded to freight a vessel with all the prudence that an intimate knowledge of the West India markets afforded him. But, alas!

misfortune sometimes comes to us when least expected and least deserved.

Two days before his vessel arrived, the market had been overstocked by shipments from other countries, and a large loss, instead of the antic.i.p.ated profits, was the result.

For some days after this disheartening news reached him, he gave way to desponding thoughts. But soon he bent his mind to a new adventure. In this he was more successful; but as the investment had been small, the profit was inconsiderable. His next shipment was large, involving at least two-thirds of his capital. The policy of insurance safe in his fire-closet, the young merchant deemed himself secure against total loss. For wise purposes, G.o.d often sees fit to frustrate our hopes, and make the best-laid schemes of success or security fail. Two months from the day on which the vessel sailed, news arrived that she had been wrecked, and the whole cargo lost. Nor was this all. Some informality or neglect of the captain vitiated the insurance, and the underwriters refused to pay. A suit was commenced against them, which occupied from six to eight months before a decision could be obtained.

Nearly a twelvemonth from the day the unfortunate adventure was made, George Prentice sat musing in his counting-room, his mind busy with unpleasant and desponding thoughts. He had done little or no business since the news of his loss had reached him, for he had but a remnant of his capital to work upon, and no heart to risk that. He was "holding off," as they say, until some decision was made in the suit pending with the underwriters. While he thus sat in deep thought, a letter from his agent in London, where the insurance had been effected, was handed to him. He tore it open eagerly. The first brief sentence--"We have lost our suit"--almost unmanned him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LOST SHIP.]

"Ruined!--ruined!" he mentally e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, throwing the letter upon his desk as he finished reading it. "What shall I do?"

"_Try again!_" a voice seemed to whisper in his ear.

He started and looked around.

"_Try again_," it repeated; and this time he perceived that the voice was within him. For a moment he paused, many thoughts pa.s.sing rapidly through his mind.

"I _will_ try again!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet.

And he did try. This time he examined the condition of the markets with the most careful scrutiny--ascertained the amount of shipments within the preceding four months from all the princ.i.p.al continental cities; and then, by the aid of his correspondents, learned the expeditions that were getting up, and the articles, and quant.i.ties of each, composing the cargoes. Knowing the monthly consumption of the various foreign products at the port to which he purposed making a shipment, he was satisfied that a cargo of flour, if run in immediately, would pay a handsome profit. He at once hired a vessel, the captain of which he knew could be depended on for strict obedience to instructions, and freighted her with flour. The vessel sailed, and the young merchant awaited with almost trembling expectation the news of her arrival out. He had adventured his all; and the result must be success, or the utter prostration of his hopes.

In anxious expectation he waited week after week, until every day seemed to him prolonged to double its number of hours. At last a letter came from his consignee. He almost trembled as he broke the seal.

"Your flour has arrived at the very best time," it commenced. For a few moments he could read no further. He was compelled to pause, lest the emotion he felt should be betrayed to those around him. Then he read the whole letter calmly through. It stated that the supply of flour was nearly exhausted when his cargo arrived, which had been promptly sold at fourteen shillings a barrel above the last quotations.

"I shall clear nearly five hundred pounds by my last shipment," he said to his father, who entered the counting-room at the moment.

"Indeed! well I am very glad to hear you say so, George. I hope, after this, you will be more successful."

"I hope that I shall: but I had nearly given up in despair," the son remarked.

"But you thought you would _try again_!" observed the old gentleman, smiling.

"Exactly so, father."

"That was right, George. Never despair. Let 'Try again' be your motto at all times, and success will in the end attend your efforts."

His father was right. George Prentice is now a wealthy merchant. He is somewhat advanced in years, and is accounted by some a little eccentric. One evidence of this eccentricity is the fact, that over the range of desks in his counting-room is painted, in large letters, the words,--"TRY AGAIN."

PERSEVERE.

Drive the nail aright, boys, Hit it on the head; Strike with all your might, boys, While the iron's red.

When you've work to do, boys, Do it with a will; They who reach the top, boys, First must climb the hill.

Standing at the foot, boys, Gazing at the sky, How can you get up, boys, If you never try?

Though you stumble oft, boys, Never be down-cast; Try, and try again, boys,-- You'll succeed at last.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: BLESSINGS ARE UPON THE HEAD OF THE JUST.]

Learn to Say "No."

"There is a word, my son, a very little word, in the English language, the right use of which it is all-important that you should learn," said Mr. Howland to his son Thomas, who was about leaving the paternal roof for a residence in a distant city; never again, perchance, to make one of the little circle that had so long gathered in the family homestead.

"What word is that, father?" asked Thomas.

"It is the little word _No_, my son."

"And why does so much importance attach to that word, father?"

"Perhaps I can make you understand the reason much better if I relate an incident that occurred when I was a boy. I remember it as distinctly as if it had taken place but yesterday, although thirty years have since pa.s.sed. There was a neighbour of my father's, who was very fond of gunning and fishing. On several occasions I had accompanied him, and liked it very much. One day my father said,--

"'William, I do not wish you to go into the woods or on the water again with Mr. Jones.'