It takes a great man to give sound advice tactfully, but a

When Logan Pearsall Smith wrote, “It takes a great man to give sound advice tactfully, but a greater to accept it graciously,” he was speaking of one of the highest and hardest virtues — humility. His words remind us that wisdom is not only found in speaking, but in listening, not only in guiding others, but in being open to guidance ourselves. It is the paradox of the noble spirit: that strength is measured not by pride, but by the gentleness to receive truth, even when it wounds the ego. To advise with care and accept with grace are twin pillars of maturity — one born of compassion, the other of self-knowledge.

The origin of this quote lies in the quiet philosophy of Logan Pearsall Smith, an American-born essayist of the early twentieth century, whose wit and insight were as sharp as they were humane. Living in an age of rapid change, he observed how men sought to appear wise, but few dared to be teachable. His words carry the timeless echo of an older wisdom — that true greatness lies not in power or pride, but in the discipline of understanding. To give advice with tact demands empathy, for it is to enter another’s heart without wounding it; but to accept advice with grace demands courage, for it is to let go of vanity and embrace truth, even when it challenges the self.

To give sound advice tactfully is an act of balance — it requires both honesty and compassion. The blunt speaker wounds, and the flatterer misleads, but the wise counselor speaks truth as a healer does, with precision and care. Consider the ancient Socrates, who guided his students not by preaching, but by asking questions that stirred their own reason. His wisdom was not in telling men what to think, but in awakening thought itself. That is the tact of greatness — to plant truth in another’s heart so subtly that they believe it grew there on its own. Yet, even Socrates, the giver of wisdom, was condemned by those who could not bear to be corrected. Thus we see that the second half of Smith’s saying — the art of accepting advice — is even rarer, even more divine.

For to accept advice graciously is to master the self. It is to silence the pride that rises in protest, to bow before truth without shame. This act demands humility, and humility, in the eyes of the ancients, was not weakness but power restrained — the strength to admit imperfection and the will to change. Think of King David in the old scriptures. When the prophet Nathan confronted him over his wrongdoing, David did not strike him down as tyrants often do. Instead, he fell to his knees, confessing his guilt. That moment, not his victories in war, was the measure of his greatness. The sword conquers others, but humility conquers the self.

The struggle between advice and pride is as old as humanity. Empires have fallen because leaders refused to listen. Napoleon, at the height of his glory, ignored the warnings of his generals and marched into the snows of Russia — a decision born of arrogance that led to ruin. In contrast, Abraham Lincoln, known for his wisdom, filled his cabinet with men who opposed him, saying, “I need them, for they tell me what I do not want to hear.” To accept counsel without resentment, to weigh criticism without anger — this is the hallmark of true greatness. The one who listens learns; the one who resists remains blind.

In truth, both sides of Smith’s quote reflect the discipline of the soul. The giver of advice must master kindness, lest truth become cruelty; the receiver must master humility, lest pride become folly. Together, they form the cycle of wisdom — teaching and learning, giving and receiving, truth flowing from one heart to another like a river that nourishes both its banks. To live by this principle is to build bridges instead of walls, to turn moments of correction into growth, and to honor the wisdom that passes through us rather than claiming it as our own.

So, my child, take this teaching as a mirror for your own life: speak truth with care, and receive truth with grace. When you are moved to correct another, do so as a gardener prunes a tree — not to harm, but to help it grow. When you are corrected, do not let pride rise like a storm; instead, listen as one who seeks gold in the dust. Learn to bless the one who dares to tell you the truth, for they are your ally, not your enemy. Remember always that greatness is not found in knowing everything, but in being willing to learn. As Logan Pearsall Smith reminds us, it is a great thing to give wisdom gently, but a far greater thing to receive it humbly — for that is the path to true enlightenment, and the mark of a soul that has mastered itself.