out
every thing being done that the day called for. It usually happened
that the first hour did not pass after the forming of this resolution
without seeing its violation--so strong was the power of habit growing
out of an original defect in the mind.

Every consequence in life is the natural result of some cause, and upon
the character of the cause always depends the nature of the
consequence. An orderly cause never produces a disorderly consequence,
and the converse of this is equally true. Every defect of character
that we have, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant it may
be, if suffered to flow down into our actions, produces an evil result.
The man who puts off the doing of a thing until to-morrow that ought to
be done to-day, injures his own interest or the interest of others.
This may not always clearly show itself, but the fact is nevertheless
true. Sometimes the consequences of even the smallest neglect are felt
most deeply.

My friend Paul had a very familiar saying when reminded by any one of
something that ought to have been previously done. "I was just going to
do it," or "I am just going to do it," dropped from his tongue
half-a-dozen times in a day.

"I wish you would have my bill ready by three o'clock," said a customer
to him, dropping in one morning.

"Very well, it shall be made out," replied Paul.

The customer turned and walked hurriedly away. He evidently had a good
deal of business to do, and but a small time to do it in.

Precisely at three, the man called, and found the merchant reading the
afternoon paper.

"Is my bill made out?" he asked.

"I am just going to do it," answered Paul, handing the paper towards
his customer. "Look over the news for a few moments while I draw it
off; it won't take me long."

"I am sorry," replied the customer, "for I cannot wait. I have three or
four more accounts to settle, and the boat leaves in an hour. Send me
the bill by mail, and I will remit you the amount. Good-by"--offering
his hand--"I hope to see you again in the fall."

Paul took the extended hand of his customer, and shook it warmly. In
the next moment he was standing alone, his ledger open before him, and
his eye resting upon an account, the payment of which was of some
importance to him just at that time. Disappointed and dissatisfied with
himself, he closed the ledger heavily and left the desk, instead of
making out the account and mailing it. On the next day, the want of
ju