People are so proud of their names that they strive to perpetuatethem at any cost.
For many centuries， nobles and magnates supported artists，musicians and authors so that their creative works would bededicated to them.
Libraries and museums owe their richest collections to peoplewho cannot bear to think that their names might perish from the memory of the race. The New York Public Library has its Astorand Lenox collections. The Metropolitan Museum perpetuates thenames of Benjamin Altman and J. P. Morgan. And nearly everychurch is beautified by stained-glass windows commemoratingthe names of their donors. Many of the buildings on the campusof most universities bear the names of donors who contributedlarge sums of money for this honor.
Most people don’t remember names， for the simple reasonthat they don’t take the time and energy necessary to concentrateand repeat and fix names indelibly in their minds. They makeexcuses for themselves; they are too busy.
But they were probably no busier than Franklin D. Roosevelt，and he took time to remember and recall even the names ofmechanics with whom he came into contact.
The Chrysler organization built a special car for Mr. Roosevelt，who could not use a standard car because his legs were paralyzed.
W. F. Chamberlain and a mechanic delivered it to the WhiteHouse. I have in front of me a letter from Mr. Chamberlainrelating his experiences. I taught President Roosevelt how tohandle a car with a lot of unusual gadgets， but he taught me a lotabout the fine art of handling people.
“When I called at the White House，” Mr. Chamberlain writes，“the President was extremely pleasant and cheerful. He calledme by name， made me feel very comfortable， and particularlyimpressed me with the fact that he was vitally interested in things Ihad to show him and tell him. The car was so designed that it couldbe operated entirely by hand. A crowd gathered around to lookat the car; and he remarked： ‘I think it is marvelous. All you haveto do is to touch a button and it moves away and you can drive itwithout effort. I think it is grand—I don’t know what makes it go. I’dlove to have the time to tear it down and see how it works.’
“When Roosevelt’s friends and associates admired the machine，he said in their presence： ‘Mr. Chamberlain， I certainly appreciateall the time and effort you have spent in developing this car. It is amighty fine job.’ He admired the radiator， the special rear-visionmirror and clock， the special spotlight， the kind of upholstery，the sitting position of the driver’s seat， the special suitcases in thetrunk with his monogram on each suitcase. In other words， he tooknotice of every detail to which he knew I had given considerablethought. He made a point of bringing these various pieces ofequipment to the attention of Mrs. Roosevelt， Miss Perkins， theSecretary of Labor， and his secretary. He even brought the oldWhite House porter into the picture by saying， ‘George， you wantto take particularly good care of the suitcases.’
“When the driving lesson was finished， the President turnedto me and said： ‘Well， Mr. Chamberlain， I have been keeping theFederal Reserve Board waiting thirty minutes. I guess I had betterget back to work.’
“I took a mechanic with me to the White House. He wasintroduced to Roosevelt when he arrived. He didn’t talk to thePresident， and Roosevelt heard his name only once. He was a shychap， and he kept in the background. But before leaving us， thePresident looked for the mechanic， shook his hand， called himby name， and thanked him for coming to Washington. And therewas nothing perfunctory about his thanks. He meant what hesaid. I could feel that.
“A few days after returning to New York， I got an autographedphotograph of President Roosevelt and a little note of thanksagain expressing his appreciation for my assistance. How hefound time to do it is a mystery to me.”
Franklin D. Roosevelt knew that one of the simplest， mostobvious and most important ways of gaining good will was byremembering names and making people feel important—yet howmany of us do it?
Half the time we are introduced to a stranger， we chat a fewminutes and can’t even remember his or her name by the time wesay goodbye.
One of the first lessons a politician learns is this： “To recall avoter’s name is statesmanship. To forget it is oblivion.”
And the ability to remember names is almost as important inbusiness and social contacts as it is in politics.
Napoleon the Third， Emperor of France and nephew of thegreat Napoleon， boasted that in spite of all his royal duties hecould remember the name of every person he met.
His technique? Simple. If he didn’t hear the name distinctly，he said， “So sorry. I didn’t get the name clearly.” Then， if it was anunusual name， he would say， “How is it spelled?”
During the conversation， he took the trouble to repeat thename several times， and tried to associate it in his mind with theperson’s features， expression and general appearance.
If the person was someone of importance， Napoleon went toeven further pains. As soon as His Royal Highness was alone，he wrote the name down on a piece of paper， looked at it，concentrated on it， fixed it securely in his mind， and then tore upthe paper. In this way， he gained an eye impression of the nameas well as an ear impression.
All this takes time， but “Good manners，” said Emerson， “aremade up of petty sacrifices.”
PRINCIPLE 3：
Remember that a person’s name is to that person the sweetestand most important sound in any language.
Chapter 7
An Easy Way to Become aGood Conversationalist
Some time ago， I attended a bridge party. I don’t play bridge—