Corporate records;

              50 HASKINS & SELLS August
Finger Posts
T H E R E are few things closer to the
heart of the average man or woman than
his or her personal success. Let philoso­phers
moralize on success as they may,
weighing its value, its ultimate satisfactions
or its emptiness; the fact remains that deep
down in the consciousness of all of us is a
striving toward some end that seems to us
worthy of achievement. To the extent that
we approach or recede from this goal, we
are or are not successful from our individ­ual
point of view.
Now, success is a variable quantity. Each
of us has his own particular notion of what
goes to make it. To one it may mean the
making of money; to another the attain­ment
of distinction; to still another a quiet
haven far from the pursuit of material
gains, with his loved ones, or his books, or
his garden. Or it may mean all of these
things at once and even more. After all,
the desires of men have no set boundaries;
they are as free as air. We cannot say to
ourselves, "Thus far, and no farther;" the
human mind leaps over such fixed limita­tions.
Leaving theorizing for the philosophers,
where can we find the secret of success in
our own chosen work?
We have all embarked on a business
career. We recognize the fact that in the
last analysis the responsibility for results
rests squarely on our own shoulders; with
all the strength of our endeavor we want
results. How are we to get them?
If the answer to this were simple the
world would be a happier place. Mistakes
would cease to thrust upon us their all-too
obtrusive presence; incompetency would be
transformed, as by a wave of a fairy wand,
into effectiveness; and annoyances, disap­pointments,
and heartburnings would vanish
beyond our earthly ken. The millenium
would have arrived.
Unfortunately the age of miracles is not
yet. The road to results is long, and toil­some,
and uphill. Here and there however
we find finger posts pointing the way; if we
are not too engrossed and disheartened by
the stones under our feet, we may look up
and chart ourselves for the next pull.
Like all good things, these sign posts are
as old as the everlasting hills. They tell us
nothing that our fathers before us did not
know. But the good old truths bear re­peating,
and it might be well for us to
pause a moment to take in what we may of
the path ahead. Looking up to the summit
we are striving to reach, we see that the
road winds to the top through efficiency and
loyalty, cooperation and self development.
The trail has already been broken before
us; is it not possible for all of us to follow
through?
Solace in the Solstice
A POPULAR belief has it that summer
is the chosen moment for "light" read­ing.
Whatever the term "light" may mean
we know that our imagination rests lovingly
on the vision of a cool, shady nook close to
a running stream or under the apple boughs,
where we may loaf and invite our souls in
the quiet company of a book. Perhaps its
lightness lies in its very lack of insistence.
"Books are a languid pleasure," says Mon­taigne;
and when are we ever so disposed
to languor as during the dog days?
Nevertheless, we live in times when loaf­ing,
either of body or mind, is impossible.
The world is changing overnight; its prob­lems
call for the labor and skill of every
man or woman of purpose. We have a big
job on our hands today; and we are deter­mined
to see it through.
In the giving out of our labor and our
skill,—in the outpouring of our effort
toward the great end,—we are all willing
and generous; but are we looking carefully
enough into what we may take in? Our
minds need sustenance and support as well
as our bodies;—the stoking process must
go on or the engines will stop.
Many of us are not aware that there is
a steady flow of comment, information, and
suggestion put forth by the best minds in
the country working on the great questions
that confront us to-day. This rich mine of
thought is brought into the light almost as
soon as it is spoken; it is the searching,
stimulating, up-to-the-minute thought of
thoughtful men; and it comes to us in the
form of the printed pamphlet.
Because a pamphlet is ordinarily consid­ered
ephemeral and insignificant in value,