致加西亚的信英文版AmessagetoGarcia
A message to Garcia
By Elbert Hubbard, 1899 In all this Cuban business, there is one man stands out on the horizon of my memory like Mars at perihelion.
When war broke out between Spain and the United States, it was very necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the Insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the mountain fastnesses of Cuba—no one know where. No mail or telegraph message could reach him. The president must secure his cooperation, and quickly. What to do!
Some said to the President, “There’s a fellow by the name of Rowan who will find Garcia for you, if anybody can.”
Rowan was sent for and given a letter to be delivered to Garcia. How the “fellow by name of Rowan” took the l etter, sealed it up in an oilskin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat, disappeared into the jungle,
and in three weeks came out on the other side of the Island, having traversed a hostile country on foot and delivered his letter to Garcia—are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail. The point that I wish to make is this: McKinley gave Rowan a letter to be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter and did not ask, “Where is he at?”
By the Eternal! There is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze, and the statue placed in every college of the land. It is not book—learning young men need, nor instruction about this and that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause them to be loyal and trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies: do the thing—“Carry a message to Garcia.”
General Garcia is dead now, but there are other Garcias. No man who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise where many hands were needed, but has been well—nigh appalled at times by the imbecility of the average man—the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and do it.
Slipshod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy indifference, and half-hearted work seem t
he role; and no man succeeds, unless by hook or crook or threat he forces or brides other men to assist him; or mayhap, God in His goodness performs a miracle, and seeds him an Angel of Light for an assistant.
贺州民心网
音调控制电路You, reader, put this matter to a test: You are sitting now in your office—six clerks are within call. Summon any one and make this request: “Please look in the encyclopedia and make a brief memorandum for me concerning the life of Correggio.” Will the clerk quietly say, “Yes, sir.” And go do the task? On your life he will not. He will look at you out of a fishy eye and ask one or more of the following questions: Who was he? Which encyclopedia? Where is the encyclopedia? Was I hired for that? Don’t you mean Bismarck? What’s the matter with Charlie doing it? Is he dead? Is there any hurry? Shan’t I bring you the book and
let you look it up yourself? What do you want to know for?
And I will lay you ten to one that after you have answered the questions, and explained h
酿酒酵母ow to find the information, and why you want it, the clerk will go off and get one of the other clerks to help him try to find Garcia—and then come back and tell you where is no such man. Of course I may lose my bet, but according to the Law of Average, I will not. Now, if you are wise, you will not bother to explain to your “assistant” that Correggio is indexed under the C’s, not in the K’s, but you will smile very sweetly and say, “Never mind.” And go look it up yourself. And this incapacity for independent action, this moral stupidity, this infirmity of the will, this unwillingness to cheerfully catch hold and lift—these are the things that put pure Socialism so far into the future.
If men will not act for themselves, what will they do when the benefit of their effort is for all?dspace
A first mate with k notted club seems necessary; and the dread of getting “the bounce” Saturday night holds many a worker to his place. Advertise for a stenographer, and nine out of ten who apply can neither spell nor punctuate—and do not think it necessary to.
Can such a one write a letter to Garcia?黄大象
“You see that bookkeeper,” said the foreman to me in a large factory. “Yes, what about him?” “Well, he’s a fine accountant, but if I’d send him up town on an errand, he might accomplish the errand all right, and on the other hand, might stop at four saloons on the way, and when he got to Main Street would forger what he had been sent for.” Can such a man be entrusted to carry a message to Garcia?
We have recently been hearing much maudlin sympathy expressed for the “downtrodden de nizens of the sweat-shop” and the “homeless wanderer searching for honest employment”, and with it all often go many hard words for the men in power.秦卫刚个人简历
Nothing is said about the employer who grows old before his time in a vain attempt to get frowsy ne’er-do-wells to do intelligent work; and his long, patient striving after “help” that does nothing but loaf when his back turned.
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