years, who habitually retire to rest every night, surprised and disappointed that the whole of their day's work has not been done. Now, it is evident that such persons must be essentially wrong in one of these two things—either in their calculations upon the value and extent of time, or in their estimate of their own capabilities; and in consequence of these miscalculations, they have probably been making the most serious mistakes all their lives. They have been promising what they could not perform; deceiving and disappointing their friends, and those who were dependent upon them; besides harassing their own spirits, and destroying their own peace, by frightful miscalculations of imperative claims, when there was no residue of time at all proportioned to such requirements.
The next rule I would lay down is, if possible, of more importance than the first. It is, that you should always be able to say what you are doing, and not merely what you are going to do. "I am going to be so busy—I am going to get to my work—I am going to prepare for my journey—I am going to learn Latin—I am going to visit a poor neighbour." These, and ten thousand other 'goings,' with the frequent addition of the word 'just' before them, are words which form a network of delusion, by which hundreds of really well-intentioned young persons are completely entangled. 'I am just going to do this or that good work,' sounds so much like 'I am really doing it,' that the conscience is satisfied for the moment; yet how vast is the difference between these two expressions when habit has fixed them upon the character!
To the same class of persons who habitually say, 'I am going,' rather than 'I am doing,' belong those who seldom know what they really are about; who, coming into a room for a particular purpose, and finding a book there by chance, open it, and sit down to read for half an hour, or an hour,
