The Man and the Opportunity

No man is born into this world whose work is not born with him.—LOWELL.

Every man is born into this world with his own work. Lowell.

Things don't turn up in this world until somebody turns them up.—GARFIELD.

Things don't happen in this world until someone makes them happen. Garfield.

Vigilance in watching opportunity; tact and daring in seizing upon opportunity; force and persistence in crowding opportunity to its utmost of possible achievement—these are the martial virtues which must command success.—AUSTIN PHELPS.

Watch carefully for opportunities. Use tact and courage to seize them, then use force and persistence to make the most of them. These are the martial virtues that must command success. AUSTIN PHELPS.

"I will find a way or make one."

"I will find a way or make one."

There never was a day that did not bring its own opportunity for doing good that never could have been done before, and never can be again.—W. H. BURLEIGH.

Every day brings its own chance to do good that could never have been done before and can never be done again. W. H. BURLEIGH.

"If we succeed, what will the world say?" asked Captain Berry in delight, when Nelson had explained his carefully formed plan before the battle of the Nile.

"If we succeed, what will the world say?" Captain Berry asked with delight, after Nelson explained his carefully prepared plan before the battle of the Nile.

"There is no if in the case," replied Nelson. "That we shall succeed is certain. Who may live to tell the tale is a very different question." Then, as his captains rose from the council to go to their respective ships, he added: "Before this time to-morrow I shall have gained a peerage or Westminster Abbey." His quick eye and daring spirit saw an opportunity of glorious victory where others saw only probable defeat.

"There is no if about it," replied Nelson. "We will certainly succeed. Who may live to tell the tale is a very different question." Then his captains rose from the council to return to their ships. As they did, he added: "By this time tomorrow, I shall have gained a peerage or Westminster Abbey." His quick eye and daring spirit saw a chance for glorious victory where others saw only probable defeat.

"Is it POSSIBLE to cross the path?" asked Napoleon of the engineers who had been sent to explore the dreaded pass of St. Bernard. "Perhaps," was the hesitating reply, "it is within the limits of possibility."

"Is it POSSIBLE to cross the path?" Napoleon asked the engineers sent to explore the dreaded pass of St. Bernard. "Perhaps," they replied hesitantly, "it is within the limits of possibility."

"FORWARD THEN," said the Little Corporal, without heeding their account of apparently insurmountable difficulties. England and Austria laughed in scorn at the idea of transporting across the Alps, where "no wheel had ever rolled, or by any possibility could roll," an army of sixty thousand men, with ponderous artillery, tons of cannon balls and baggage, and all the bulky munitions of war. But the besieged Massena was starving in Genoa, and the victorious Austrians thundered at the gates of Nice, and Napoleon was not the man to fail his former comrades in their hour of peril.

"FORWARD THEN," said the Little Corporal, ignoring their account of the apparently insurmountable difficulties. England and Austria laughed at the idea of transporting an army of sixty thousand men across the Alps. They scorned the idea of moving heavy artillery, tons of cannonballs and baggage, and all the bulky supplies of war. In the Alps, "no wheel had ever rolled, or by any possibility could roll." But Massena was besieged and starving in Genoa, and the victorious Austrians thundered at the gates of Nice. Napoleon was not the man to fail his former comrades in their hour of danger.

When this "impossible" deed was accomplished, some saw that it might have been done long before. Others excused themselves from encountering such gigantic obstacles by calling them insuperable. Many a commander had possessed the necessary supplies, tools, and rugged soldiers, but lacked the grit and resolution of Bonaparte, who did not shrink from mere difficulties, however great, but out of his very need made and mastered his opportunity.

When this "impossible" deed was done, some realized it could have been done long before. Others avoided such enormous obstacles by calling them impossible to overcome. Many commanders had the necessary supplies, tools, and tough soldiers, but they lacked Bonaparte’s grit and determination. He did not shrink from difficulties, however great. Instead, he turned his very need into an opportunity and seized it.

Grant at New Orleans had just been seriously injured by a fall from his horse, when he received orders to take command at Chattanooga, so sorely beset by the Confederates that its surrender seemed only a question of a few days; for the hills around were all aglow by night with the camp-fires of the enemy, and supplies had been cut off. Though in great pain, he immediately gave directions for his removal to the new scene of action.

Grant had just been seriously injured in a fall from his horse in New Orleans when he received orders to take command at Chattanooga. The city was so badly surrounded by the Confederates that its surrender seemed only a matter of days. At night, enemy campfires lit up all the surrounding hills, and supplies had been cut off. Though in great pain, Grant immediately gave orders to be taken to Chattanooga.

On transports up the Mississippi, the Ohio, and one of its tributaries; on a litter borne by horses for many miles through the wilderness; and into the city at last on the shoulders of four men, he was taken to Chattanooga. Things assumed a different aspect immediately. A master had arrived who was equal to the situation. The army felt the grip of his power. Before he could mount his horse he ordered an advance, and although the enemy contested the ground inch by inch, the surrounding hills were soon held by Union soldiers.

He was taken to Chattanooga by boat up the Mississippi, the Ohio, and one of its tributaries. He was then carried many miles through the wilderness on a horse-borne litter. At last, four men carried him into the city on their shoulders. The situation changed immediately. A master had arrived who was equal to the situation. The army felt the strength of his leadership. Before he could mount his horse, he ordered an advance. Although the enemy fought for every inch of ground, Union soldiers soon held the surrounding hills.

Were these things the result of chance, or were they compelled by the indominable determination of the injured General?

Did these things happen by chance, or did the injured General's unstoppable determination bring them about?

Did things adjust themselves when Horatius with two companions held ninety thousand Tuscans at bay until the bridge across the Tiber had been destroyed?—when Leonidas at Thermopylae checked the mighty march of Xerxes?—when Themistocles, off the coast of Greece, shattered the Persian's Armada?—when Caesar, finding his army hard pressed, seized spear and buckler, fought while he reorganized his men, and snatched victory from defeat?—when Winkelried gathered to his heart a sheaf of Austrian spears, thus opening a path through which his comrades pressed to freedom?—when for years Napoleon did not lose a single battle in which he was personally engaged?—when Wellington fought in many climes without ever being conquered?—when Ney, on a hundred fields, changed apparent disaster into brilliant triumph?—when Perry left the disabled Lawrence, rowed to the Niagara, and silenced the British guns?—when Sheridan arrived from Winchester just as the Union retreat was becoming a rout, and turned the tide by riding along the line?—when Sherman, though sorely pressed, signaled his men to hold the fort, and they, knowing that their leader was coming, held it?

Did things adjust themselves when Horatius and two companions held ninety thousand Tuscans at bay until the bridge across the Tiber was destroyed? Did they adjust themselves when Leonidas stopped Xerxes' mighty advance at Thermopylae? When Themistocles destroyed the Persian Armada off the coast of Greece? When Caesar, finding his army under heavy pressure, seized a spear and shield? He fought while he reorganized his men and snatched victory from defeat. Did things adjust themselves when Winkelried gathered a bundle of Austrian spears to his heart? He opened a path through which his comrades pushed to freedom. Did things adjust themselves when Napoleon went for years without losing a single battle in which he personally fought? When Wellington fought in many lands without ever being conquered? When Ney turned apparent disaster into brilliant triumph on a hundred battlefields? When Perry left the disabled Lawrence, rowed to the Niagara, and silenced the British guns? When Sheridan arrived from Winchester just as the Union retreat was turning into a rout? He turned the tide by riding along the line. Did things adjust themselves when Sherman, though under heavy pressure, signaled his men to hold the fort? They held it, knowing their leader was coming.

History furnishes thousands of examples of men who have seized occasions to accomplish results deemed impossible by those less resolute. Prompt decision and whole-souled action sweep the world before them.

History offers thousands of examples of men who seized opportunities to achieve what less determined people thought impossible. Quick decisions and wholehearted action sweep the world before them.

True, there has been but one Napoleon; but, on the other hand, the Alps that oppose the progress of the average American youth are not as high or dangerous as the summits crossed by the great Corsican.

True, there has been only one Napoleon. But the Alps blocking the average American youth’s progress are not as high or dangerous as those crossed by the great Corsican.

Don't wait for extraordinary opportunities. Seize common occasions and make them great.

Don't wait for extraordinary opportunities. Take ordinary moments and make them great.

On the morning of September 6, 1838, a young woman in the Longstone Lighthouse, between England and Scotland, was awakened by shrieks of agony rising above the roar of wind and wave. A storm of unwonted fury was raging, and her parents could not hear the cries; but a telescope showed nine human beings clinging to the windlass of a wrecked vessel whose bow was hanging on the rocks half a mile away. "We can do nothing," said William Darling, the light-keeper. "Ah, yes, we must go to the rescue," exclaimed his daughter, pleading tearfully with both father and mother, until the former replied: "Very well, Grace, I will let you persuade me, though it is against my better judgment." Like a feather in a whirlwind the little boat was tossed on the tumultuous sea, but, borne on the blast that swept the cruel surge, the shrieks of those shipwrecked sailors seemed to change her weak sinews into cords of steel. Strength hitherto unsuspected came from somewhere, and the heroic girl pulled one oar in even time with her father. At length the nine were safely on board. "God bless you; but ye're a bonny English lass," said one poor fellow, as he looked wonderingly upon this marvelous girl, who that day had done a deed which added more to England's glory than the exploits of many of her monarchs.

On the morning of September 6, 1838, a young woman was awakened at Longstone Lighthouse, between England and Scotland. She heard screams of agony above the roar of the wind and waves. An unusually fierce storm was raging, and her parents could not hear the cries. But through a telescope, they saw nine people clinging to the windlass of a wrecked vessel. Its bow was caught on the rocks half a mile away. "We can do nothing," said William Darling, the lighthouse keeper. "Oh, yes, we must go to the rescue," cried his daughter. She pleaded tearfully with both her father and mother. Finally, her father replied, "Very well, Grace, I will let you persuade me, though it is against my better judgment." The little boat was tossed on the raging sea like a feather in a whirlwind. But the shipwrecked sailors' screams carried over the fierce waves on the wind. Those screams seemed to turn Grace's weak muscles into cords of steel. Strength she had never known she possessed came from somewhere, and the heroic young woman rowed in rhythm with her father. At last, all nine were safely on board. "God bless you; but you're a bonny English lass," said one poor fellow. He looked in wonder at this remarkable young woman. That day she had done a deed that added more to England's glory than the exploits of many of her monarchs.

"If you will let me try, I think I can make something that will do," said a boy who had been employed as a scullion at the mansion of Signer Faliero, as the story is told by George Cary Eggleston. A large company had been invited to a banquet, and just before the hour the confectioner, who had been making a large ornament for the table, sent word that he had spoiled the piece. "You!" exclaimed the head servant, in astonishment; "and who are you?" "I am Antonio Canova, the grandson of Pisano, the stone-cutter," replied the pale-faced little fellow.

"If you let me try, I think I can make something that will do," said a boy working as a kitchen servant at Signer Faliero's mansion. George Cary Eggleston tells the story. A large group had been invited to a banquet. A confectioner had been making a large table decoration, but just before the banquet, he sent word that he had ruined it. "You!" exclaimed the head servant in surprise. "And who are you?" "I am Antonio Canova, the grandson of Pisano, the stone-cutter," replied the pale-faced little boy.

"And pray, what can you do?" asked the major-domo. "I can make you something that will do for the middle of the table, if you'll let me try." The servant was at his wits' end, so he told Antonio to go ahead and see what he could do. Calling for some butter, the scullion quickly molded a large crouching lion, which the admiring major-domo placed upon the table.

“And what can you do?” asked the head servant. “I can make you something for the middle of the table, if you’ll let me try.” The servant was at his wits’ end, so he told Antonio to go ahead and see what he could do. Antonio, a kitchen servant, asked for some butter and quickly molded it into a large crouching lion. The head servant admired the lion and placed it on the table.

Dinner was announced, and many of the most noted merchants, princes, and noblemen of Venice were ushered into the dining-room. Among them were skilled critics of art work. When their eyes fell upon the butter lion, they forgot the purpose for which they had come in their wonder at such a work of genius. They looked at the lion long and carefully, and asked Signer Faliero what great sculptor had been persuaded to waste his skill upon such a temporary material. Faliero could not tell; so he asked the head servant, who brought Antonio before the company.

Dinner was announced, and many of Venice's most prominent merchants, princes, and noblemen were shown into the dining room. Among them were skilled art critics. When they saw the butter lion, they were so amazed by this work of genius that they forgot why they had come. They studied the lion carefully. Then they asked Signer Faliero what great sculptor had been persuaded to waste his skill on such a short-lived material. Faliero could not tell them, so he asked the head servant, who brought Antonio before the guests.

When the distinguished guests learned that the lion had been made in a short time by a scullion, the dinner was turned into a feast in his honor. The rich host declared that he would pay the boy's expenses under the best masters, and he kept his word. Antonio was not spoiled by his good fortune, but remained at heart the same simple, earnest, faithful boy who had tried so hard to become a good stone-cutter in the shop of Pisano. Some may not have heard how the boy Antonio took advantage of this first great opportunity; but all know of Canova, one of the greatest sculptors of all time.

When the distinguished guests learned that a kitchen servant had made the lion in a short time, the dinner became a feast in his honor. The wealthy host promised to pay for the boy to study under the best teachers, and he kept his word. Antonio was not spoiled by his good fortune. At heart, he remained the same simple, earnest, faithful boy who had tried so hard to become a good stonecutter in Pisano's shop. Some may not have heard how Antonio made the most of this first great opportunity. But all know of Canova, one of the greatest sculptors of all time.

Weak men wait for opportunities, strong men make them.

Weak men wait for opportunities. Strong men create them.

"The best men," says E. H. Chapin, "are not those who have waited for chances but who have taken them; besieged the chance; conquered the chance; and made chance the servitor."

"The best men," says E. H. Chapin, "are not those who have waited for opportunities, but those who have seized them. They have pursued and conquered opportunity, and made it serve them."

There may not be one chance in a million that you will ever receive unusual aid; but opportunities are often presented which you can improve to good advantage, if you will only act.

There may be only one chance in a million that you will ever receive extraordinary help. But opportunities often arise that you can make good use of, if you will only act.

The lack of opportunity is ever the excuse of a weak, vacillating mind. Opportunities! Every life is full of them. Every lesson in school or college is an opportunity. Every examination is a chance in life. Every patient is an opportunity. Every newspaper article is an opportunity. Every client is an opportunity. Every sermon is an opportunity. Every business transaction is an opportunity,—an opportunity to be polite,—an opportunity to be manly,—an opportunity to be honest,—an opportunity to make friends. Every proof of confidence in you is a great opportunity. Every responsibility thrust upon your strength and your honor is priceless. Existence is the privilege of effort, and when that privilege is met like a man, opportunities to succeed along the line of your aptitude will come faster than you can use them. If a slave like Fred Douglass, who did not even own his body, can elevate himself into an orator, editor, statesman, what ought the poorest white boy to do, who is rich in opportunities compared with Douglass?

A lack of opportunity is always the excuse of a weak, indecisive mind. Opportunities! Every life is full of them. Every lesson in school or college is an opportunity. Every exam is a chance in life. Every patient is an opportunity. Every newspaper article is an opportunity. Every client is an opportunity. Every sermon is an opportunity. Every business transaction is an opportunity to be polite, to be manly, to be honest, and to make friends. Every sign of confidence in you is a great opportunity. Every responsibility placed on your strength and honor is priceless. Life gives us the privilege of making an effort. When you meet that privilege like a man, opportunities to succeed in your area of talent will come faster than you can use them. Fred Douglass was a slave who did not even own his body. If he could rise to become an orator, editor, and statesman, what should the poorest white boy be able to do? Even the poorest white boy is rich in opportunities compared with Douglass.

It is the idle man, not the great worker, who is always complaining that he has no time or opportunity. Some young men will make more out of the odds and ends of opportunities which many carelessly throw away than other will get out of a whole life-time. Like bees, they extract honey from every flower. Every person they meet, every circumstance of the day, adds something to their store of useful knowledge or personal power.

It is the idle man, not the hardworking one, who is always complaining that he has no time or opportunity. Some young men make more of the small opportunities many people carelessly throw away than others make of a whole lifetime. Like bees, they gather honey from every flower. Every person they meet and every circumstance of the day adds to their useful knowledge or personal power.

"There is nobody whom Fortune does not visit once in his life," says a cardinal; "but when she finds he is not ready to receive her, she goes in at the door and out at the window."

"Fortune visits everyone once in their life," says a cardinal. "But when she finds someone unprepared to receive her, she comes in the door and goes out the window."

Cornelius Vanderbilt saw his opportunity in the steamboat, and determined to identify himself with steam navigation. To the surprise of all his friends, he abandoned his prosperous business and took command of one of the first steamboats launched, at a salary of one thousand dollars a year. Livingston and Fulton had acquired the sole right to navigate New York waters by steam, but Vanderbilt thought the law unconstitutional, and defied it until it was repealed. He soon became a steamboat owner. When the government was paying a large subsidy for carrying the European mails, he offered to carry them free and give better service. His offer was accepted, and in this way he soon built up an enormous freight and passenger traffic.

Cornelius Vanderbilt saw an opportunity in steamboats and decided to devote himself to steam navigation. To the surprise of all his friends, he left his successful business. He took command of one of the first steamboats launched, earning a salary of one thousand dollars a year. Livingston and Fulton had gained the exclusive right to operate steam vessels in New York waters. But Vanderbilt believed the law was unconstitutional and defied it until it was repealed. He soon became a steamboat owner. At the time, the government was paying a large subsidy to have European mail carried. Vanderbilt offered to carry it for free and provide better service. His offer was accepted, and he soon built up an enormous freight and passenger business.

Foreseeing the great future of railroads in a country like ours, he plunged into railroad enterprises with all his might, laying the foundation for the vast Vanderbilt system of to-day.

He saw the great future railroads had in a country like ours and threw himself into railroad ventures. In doing so, he laid the foundation for today’s vast Vanderbilt system.

Young Philip Armour joined the long caravan of Forty-Niners, and crossed the "Great American Desert" with all his possessions in a prairie schooner drawn by mules. Hard work and steady gains carefully saved in the mines enabled him to start, six years later, in the grain and warehouse business in Milwaukee. In nine years he made five hundred thousand dollars. But he saw his great opportunity in Grant's order, "On to Richmond." One morning in 1864 he knocked at the door of Plankinton, partner in his venture as a pork packer. "I am going to take the next train to New York," said he, "to sell pork 'short.' Grant and Sherman have the rebellion by the throat, and pork will go down to twelve dollars a barrel." This was his opportunity. He went to New York and offered pork in large quantities at forty dollars per barrel. It was eagerly taken. The shrewd Wall Street speculators laughed at the young Westerner, and told him pork would go to sixty dollars, for the war was not nearly over. Mr. Armour, however, kept on selling, Grant continued to advance. Richmond fell, pork fell with it to twelve dollars a barrel, and Mr. Armour cleared two millions of dollars.

Young Philip Armour joined the long caravan of Forty-Niners crossing the "Great American Desert." He carried all his possessions in a prairie schooner drawn by mules. He worked hard in the mines and carefully saved his steady earnings. Six years later, he used those savings to start a grain and warehouse business in Milwaukee. In nine years, he made five hundred thousand dollars. But he saw his great opportunity in Grant's order, "On to Richmond." One morning in 1864, he knocked at the door of Plankinton, his partner in a pork-packing venture. "I am going to take the next train to New York," he said, "to sell pork 'short.' Grant and Sherman have the rebellion by the throat, and pork will go down to twelve dollars a barrel." This was his opportunity. He went to New York and offered pork in large quantities at forty dollars per barrel. Buyers eagerly took it. The shrewd Wall Street speculators laughed at the young Westerner. They told him pork would rise to sixty dollars because the war was not nearly over. But Mr. Armour kept selling, and Grant continued to advance. Richmond fell, and pork fell with it to twelve dollars a barrel. Mr. Armour made a profit of two million dollars.

John D. Rockefeller saw his opportunity in petroleum. He could see a large population in this country with very poor lights. Petroleum was plentiful, but the refining process was so crude that the product was inferior, and not wholly safe. Here was Rockefeller's chance. Taking into partnership Samuel Andrews, the porter in a machine shop where both men had worked, he started a single barrel "still" in 1870, using an improved process discovered by his partner. They made a superior grade of oil and prospered rapidly. They admitted a third partner, Mr. Flagler, but Andrews soon became dissatisfied. "What will you take for your interest?" asked Rockefeller. Andrews wrote carelessly on a piece of paper, "One million dollars." Within twenty-four hours Mr. Rockefeller handed him the amount, saying, "Cheaper at one million than ten." In twenty years the business of the little refinery, scarcely worth one thousand dollars for building and apparatus, had grown into the Standard Oil Trust, capitalized at ninety millions of dollars, with stock quoted at 170, giving a market value of one hundred and fifty millions.

John D. Rockefeller saw his opportunity in petroleum. He saw that many people in this country had very poor lighting. Petroleum was plentiful, but the refining process was so crude that the oil was inferior and not entirely safe. Here was Rockefeller's chance. In 1870, he started a single-barrel “still” with his partner, Samuel Andrews. Andrews was a porter at a machine shop where both men had worked. The still used an improved process that Andrews had discovered. They made a superior grade of oil and prospered rapidly. They took on a third partner, Mr. Flagler, but Andrews soon became dissatisfied. “What will you take for your interest?” asked Rockefeller. Andrews casually wrote “One million dollars” on a piece of paper. Within twenty-four hours, Mr. Rockefeller handed him the money, saying, “Cheaper at one million than ten.” In twenty years, the little refinery had grown into the Standard Oil Trust. Its building and equipment had once been worth scarcely one thousand dollars. The trust was capitalized at ninety million dollars, with stock quoted at 170, giving it a market value of one hundred and fifty million dollars.

These are illustrations of seizing opportunity for the purpose of making money. But fortunately there is a new generation of electricians, of engineers, of scholars, of artists, of authors, and of poets, who find opportunities, thick as thistles, for doing something nobler than merely amassing riches. Wealth is not an end to strive for, but an opportunity; not the climax of a man's career, but an incident.

These examples show people seizing opportunities to make money. But fortunately, a new generation of electricians, engineers, scholars, artists, authors, and poets is emerging. They find opportunities as plentiful as thistles to do something nobler than simply amassing riches. Wealth is not a goal to pursue, but an opportunity. It is not the high point of a man's career, but an incident along the way.

Mrs. Elizabeth Fry, a Quaker lady, saw her opportunity in the prisons of England. From three hundred to four hundred half-naked women, as late as 1813, would often be huddled in a single ward of Newgate, London, awaiting trial. They had neither beds nor bedding, but women, old and young, and little girls, slept in filth and rags on the floor. No one seemed to care for them, and the Government merely furnished food to keep them alive. Mrs. Fry visited Newgate, calmed the howling mob, and told them she wished to establish a school for the young women and the girls, and asked them to select a schoolmistress from their own number. They were amazed, but chose a young woman who had been committed for stealing a watch. In three months these "wild beasts," as they were sometimes called, became harmless and kind. The reform spread until the Government legalized the system, and good women throughout Great Britain became interested in the work of educating and clothing these outcasts. Fourscore years have passed, and her plan has been adopted throughout the civilized world.

Mrs. Elizabeth Fry, a Quaker woman, saw her opportunity in England's prisons. As late as 1813, three hundred to four hundred half-naked women were often crowded into a single ward of Newgate prison in London, awaiting trial. They had no beds or bedding. Women, old and young, and little girls slept on the floor in filth and rags. No one seemed to care about them, and the Government provided only enough food to keep them alive. Mrs. Fry visited Newgate and calmed the howling crowd. She told them she wanted to start a school for the young women and girls. She asked them to choose a teacher from among themselves. They were amazed, but they chose a young woman who had been imprisoned for stealing a watch. In three months, these "wild beasts," as they were sometimes called, became harmless and kind. The reform spread until the Government made the system legal. Good women throughout Great Britain became interested in educating and clothing these outcasts. Eighty years have passed, and her plan has been adopted throughout the civilized world.

A boy in England had been run over by a car, and the bright blood spurted from a severed artery. No one seemed to know what to do until another boy, Astley Cooper, took his handkerchief and stopped the bleeding by pressure above the wound. The praise which he received for thus saving the boy's life encouraging him to become a surgeon, the foremost of his day.

A boy in England had been run over by a car, and bright blood spurted from a severed artery. No one seemed to know what to do until another boy, Astley Cooper, stepped in. He used his handkerchief to stop the bleeding by applying pressure above the wound. The praise he received for saving the boy's life encouraged him to become a surgeon, the best of his day.

"The time comes to the young surgeon," says Arnold, "when, after long waiting, and patient study and experiment, he is suddenly confronted with his first critical operation. The great surgeon is away. Time is pressing. Life and death hang in the balance. Is he equal to the emergency? Can he fill the great surgeon's place, and do his work? If he can, he is the one of all others who is wanted. His opportunity confronts him. He and it are face to face. Shall he confess his ignorance and inability, or step into fame and fortune? It is for him to say."

"The time comes for the young surgeon," says Arnold, "when he suddenly faces his first critical operation. He has waited a long time and studied and experimented patiently. The great surgeon is away. Time is short. Life and death hang in the balance. Is he ready for the emergency? Can he take the great surgeon's place and do his work? If he can, he is the one needed above all others. His opportunity confronts him. He and his opportunity are face to face. Will he admit his ignorance and inability, or step into fame and fortune? It is for him to decide."

Are you prepared for a great opportunity?

Are you ready for a great opportunity?

"Hawthorne dined one day with Longfellow," said James T. Fields, "and brought a friend, with him from Salem. After dinner the friend said, 'I have been trying to persuade Hawthorne to write a story based upon a legend of Acadia, and still current there,—the legend of a girl who, in the dispersion of the Acadians, was separated from her lover, and passed her life in waiting and seeking for him, and only found him dying in a hospital when both were old.' Longfellow wondered that the legend did not strike the fancy of Hawthorne, and he said to him, 'If you have really made up your mind not to use it for a story, will you let me have it for a poem?' To this Hawthorne consented, and promised, moreover, not to treat the subject in prose till Longfellow had seen what he could do with it in verse. Longfellow seized his opportunity and gave to the world 'Evangeline, or the Exile of the Acadians.'"

"One day Hawthorne had dinner with Longfellow," said James T. Fields, "and brought a friend from Salem. After dinner, the friend said, 'I have been trying to persuade Hawthorne to write a story based on an Acadian legend. The legend is still told in Acadia. It tells of a girl who was separated from her lover during the dispersion of the Acadians. She spent her life waiting and searching for him. She found him only when both were old and he was dying in a hospital.' Longfellow was surprised that the legend did not appeal to Hawthorne. He said to him, 'If you have really decided not to use it for a story, will you let me use it for a poem?' Hawthorne agreed. He also promised not to write about the subject in prose until Longfellow had seen what he could do with it in verse. Longfellow seized the opportunity and gave the world 'Evangeline, or the Exile of the Acadians.'"

Open eyes will discover opportunities everywhere; open ears will never fail to detect the cries of those who are perishing for assistance; open hearts will never want for worthy objects upon which to bestow their gifts; open hands will never lack for noble work to do.

Open eyes will find opportunities everywhere. Open ears will always hear the cries of those dying for help. Open hearts will always find worthy causes for their gifts. Open hands will always find noble work to do.

Everybody had noticed the overflow when a solid is immersed in a vessel filled with water, although no one had made use of his knowledge that the body displaces its exact bulk of liquid; but when Archimedes observed the fact, he perceived therein an easy method of finding the cubical contents of objects, however irregular in shape.

Everyone had noticed that water overflows when a solid object is immersed in a full vessel. Yet no one had made use of the fact that the object displaces exactly its own volume of water. When Archimedes observed this, he saw an easy way to find the volume of objects, no matter how irregular their shapes.

Everybody knew how steadily a suspended weight, when moved, sways back and forth until friction and the resistance of the air bring it to rest, yet no one considered this information of the slightest practical importance; but the boy Galileo, as he watched a lamp left swinging by accident in the cathedral at Pisa, saw in the regularity of those oscillations the useful principle of the pendulum. Even the iron doors of a prison were not enough to shut him out from research. He experimented with the straw of his cell, and learned valuable lessons about the relative strength of tubes and rods of equal diameters.

Everyone knew that a suspended weight, once set in motion, swings back and forth at a steady rate. It continues until friction and air resistance bring it to rest. Yet no one thought this was of the slightest practical importance. But the boy Galileo watched a lamp that had accidentally been left swinging in the cathedral at Pisa. In its regular swings, he saw the useful principle of the pendulum. Even the iron doors of a prison could not keep him from research. He experimented with the straw in his cell and learned valuable lessons about the relative strength of tubes and rods of equal diameters.

For ages astronomers had been familiar with the rings of Saturn, and regarded them merely as curious exceptions to the supposed law of planetary formation; but Laplace saw that, instead of being exceptions, they are the sole remaining visible evidences of certain stages in the invariable process of star manufacture, and from their mute testimony he added a valuable chapter to the scientific history of Creation.

For ages, astronomers had known about Saturn’s rings. They saw them merely as curious exceptions to the supposed law of planetary formation. But Laplace saw that the rings were not exceptions. They were the only remaining visible evidence of certain stages in the unvarying process of star formation. From their silent testimony, he added a valuable chapter to the scientific history of Creation.

There was not a sailor in Europe who had not wondered what might lie beyond the Western Ocean, but it remained for Columbus to steer boldly out into an unknown sea and discover a new world.

Every sailor in Europe had wondered what might lie beyond the Western Ocean. But Columbus was the one who boldly sailed into an unknown sea and discovered a new world.

Innumerable apples had fallen from trees, often hitting heedless men on the head as if to set them thinking, but Newton was the first to realize that they fall to the earth by the same law which holds the planets in their courses and prevents the momentum of all the atoms in the universe from hurling them wildly back to chaos.

Countless apples had fallen from trees, often hitting people on the head as if to make them think. But Newton was the first to realize that the same law makes apples fall to earth and keeps planets in their orbits. This law also prevents the momentum of all the atoms in the universe from hurling them wildly back into chaos.

Lightning had dazzled the eyes, and thunder had jarred the ears of men since the days of Adam, in the vain attempt to call their attention to the all-pervading and tremendous energy of electricity; but the discharges of Heaven's artillery were seen and heard only by the eye and ear of terror until Franklin, by a simple experiment, proved that lightning is but one manifestation of a resistless yet controllable force, abundant as air and water.

Since the days of Adam, lightning had dazzled people's eyes and thunder had shaken their ears. In vain, they had tried to draw attention to the immense power of electricity, present everywhere. But people saw and heard heaven's artillery only with terror until Franklin performed a simple experiment. He proved that lightning is just one form of an unstoppable yet controllable force, as plentiful as air and water.

Like many others, these men are considered great, simply because they improved opportunities common to the whole human race. Read the story of any successful man and mark its moral, told thousands of years ago by Solomon: "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings." This proverb is well illustrated by the career of the industrious Franklin, for he stood before five kings and dined with two.

Like many others, these men are considered great simply because they made use of opportunities available to everyone. Read the story of any successful man and notice its lesson. Solomon expressed it thousands of years ago: "Do you see a man who is diligent in his work? He will stand before kings." The career of the hardworking Franklin illustrates this proverb well. He stood before five kings and dined with two.

He who improves an opportunity sows a seed which will yield fruit in opportunity for himself and others. Every one who has labored honestly in the past has aided to place knowledge and comfort within the reach of a constantly increasing number.

Anyone who makes use of an opportunity plants a seed that will bear fruit in opportunities for themselves and others. Everyone who has worked honestly in the past has helped make knowledge and comfort available to more and more people.

Avenues greater in number, wider in extent, easier of access than ever before existed, stand open to the sober, frugal, energetic and able mechanic, to the educated youth, to the office boy and to the clerk—avenues through which they can reap greater successes than ever before within the reach of these classes in the history of the world. A little while ago there were only three or four professions—now there are fifty. And of trades, where there was one, there are a hundred now.

More opportunities are open than ever before. They are broader and easier to access for the sober, thrifty, energetic, and skilled mechanic, the educated young person, the office boy, and the clerk. These opportunities offer them greater success than people in their positions have ever been able to achieve in world history. Not long ago, there were only three or four professions. Now there are fifty. And where there was once one trade, there are now a hundred.

"What is its name?" asked a visitor in a studio, when shown, among many gods, one whose face was concealed by hair, and which had wings on its feet. "Opportunity," replied the sculptor. "Why is its face hidden?" "Because men seldom know him when he comes to them." "Why has he wings on his feet?" "Because he is soon gone, and once gone, cannot be overtaken."

"What is its name?" a visitor asked in a studio. Among many gods, he had been shown one whose face was hidden by hair and whose feet had wings. "Opportunity," replied the sculptor. "Why is its face hidden?" "Because men seldom recognize him when he comes to them." "Why does he have wings on his feet?" "Because he is quickly gone, and once gone, he cannot be caught."

"Opportunity has hair in front," says a Latin author; "behind she is bald; if you seize her by the forelock, you may hold her, but, if suffered to escape, not Jupiter himself can catch her again."

"Opportunity has hair in front," says a Latin author. "She is bald in back. If you grab her by the hair in front, you can hold her. But if you let her escape, not even Jupiter can catch her again."

But what is the best opportunity to him who cannot or will not use it?

But what good is the best opportunity to someone who cannot or will not use it?

"It was my lot," said a shipmaster, "to fall in with the ill-fated steamer Central America. The night was closing in, the sea rolling high; but I hailed the crippled steamer and asked if they needed help. 'I am in a sinking condition,' cried Captain Herndon. 'Had you not better send your passengers on board directly?' I asked. 'Will you not lay by me until morning?' replied Captain Herndon. 'I will try,' I answered 'but had you not better send your passengers on board now?' 'Lay by me till morning,' again shouted Captain Herndon.

“I happened to encounter the ill-fated steamer Central America,” said a shipmaster. “Night was falling, and the sea was rough. But I called out to the damaged steamer and asked if they needed help. ‘I am sinking,’ cried Captain Herndon. ‘Wouldn’t you be better off sending your passengers aboard my ship right away?’ I asked. ‘Won’t you stay beside me until morning?’ replied Captain Herndon. ‘I’ll try,’ I answered, ‘but wouldn’t you be better off sending your passengers aboard now?’ ‘Stay beside me until morning,’ Captain Herndon shouted again.

"I tried to lay by him, but at night, such was the heavy roll of the sea, I could not keep my position, and I never saw the steamer again. In an hour and a half after he said, 'Lay by me till morning,' his vessel, with its living freight, went down. The captain and crew and most of the passengers found a grave in the deep."

"I tried to stay alongside him, but the sea was so rough that night that I could not hold my position. I never saw the steamer again. An hour and a half after he said, 'Stay with me until morning,' his vessel went down with everyone aboard. The captain, crew, and most of the passengers found their graves in the deep."

Captain Herndon appreciated the value of the opportunity he had neglected when it was beyond his reach, but of what avail was the bitterness of his self-reproach when his last moments came? How many lives were sacrificed to his unintelligent hopefulness and indecision! Like him the feeble, the sluggish, and the purposeless too often see no meaning in the happiest occasions, until too late they learn the old lesson that the mill can never grind with the water which has passed.

Captain Herndon recognized the value of the opportunity he had neglected only after it was beyond his reach. But what good was his bitter regret as he lay dying? How many lives were sacrificed because of his foolish optimism and indecision! Like him, the weak, the sluggish, and those without purpose too often see no meaning in the best opportunities. Too late, they learn the old lesson that a mill can never grind with water that has already passed.

Such people are always a little too late or a little too early in everything they attempt. "They have three hands apiece," said John B. Gough; "a right hand, a left hand, and a little behindhand." As boys, they were late for school, and unpunctual in their home duties. That is the way the habit is acquired; and now, when responsibility claims them, they think that if they had only gone yesterday they would have obtained the situation, or they can probably get one to-morrow. They remember plenty of chances to make money, or know how to make it some other time than now; they see how to improve themselves or help others in the future, but perceive no opportunity in the present. They cannot seize their opportunity.

Such people are always a little too late or a little too early in everything they try. "They have three hands apiece," said John B. Gough. "A right hand, a left hand, and a little behindhand." As boys, they were late for school and failed to do their duties at home on time. That is how they acquired the habit. Now that they have responsibilities, they think they would have gotten the job if only they had gone yesterday. Or they think they can probably get one tomorrow. They remember plenty of chances to make money, or know how to make it at some time other than now. They see how to improve themselves or help others in the future, but see no opportunity in the present. They cannot seize their opportunity.

Joe Stoker, rear brakeman on the —— accommodation train, was exceedingly popular with all the railroad men. The passengers liked him, too, for he was eager to please and always ready to answer questions. But he did not realize the full responsibility of his position. He "took the world easy," and occasionally tippled; and if any one remonstrated, he would give one of his brightest smiles, and reply, in such a good-natured way that the friend would think he had over-estimated the danger: "Thank you. I'm all right. Don't you worry."

Joe Stoker was the rear brakeman on an accommodation train whose name is not given. He was very popular with all the railroad workers. The passengers liked him, too, because he was eager to please and always ready to answer questions. But he did not understand the full responsibility of his job. He "took the world easy" and occasionally drank too much. If anyone warned him, he would give one of his brightest smiles. He replied so good-naturedly that his friend would think he had exaggerated the danger: "Thank you. I'm all right. Don't you worry."

One evening there was a heavy snowstorm, and his train was delayed. Joe complained of extra duties because of the storm, and slyly sipped occasional draughts from a flat bottle. Soon he became quite jolly; but the conductor and engineer of the train were both vigilant and anxious.

One evening, a heavy snowstorm delayed his train. Joe complained about the extra work the storm caused and secretly took occasional sips from a flat bottle. Soon he became quite cheerful, but the conductor and engineer remained alert and worried.

Between two stations the train came to a quick halt. The engine had blown out its cylinder head, and an express was due in a few minutes upon the same track. The conductor hurried to the rear car, and ordered Joe back with a red light. The brakeman laughed and said:

Between two stations, the train came to a sudden stop. The engine had blown out its cylinder head. An express train was due on the same track in a few minutes. The conductor hurried to the rear car and ordered Joe to go back with a red light. The brakeman laughed and said:

"There's no hurry. Wait till I get my overcoat."

"There's no hurry. Wait until I get my coat."

The conductor answered gravely, "Don't stop a minute, Joe. The express is due."

The conductor answered seriously, "Don't stop for a minute, Joe. The express is due."

"All right," said Joe, smilingly. The conductor then hurried forward to the engine.

"All right," Joe said with a smile. The conductor then hurried forward to the engine.

But the brakeman did not go at once. He stopped to put on his overcoat. Then he took another sip from the flat bottle to keep the cold out. Then he slowly grasped the lantern and, whistling, moved leisurely down the track.

But the brakeman did not leave right away. He stopped to put on his overcoat. Then he took another sip from the flat bottle to keep out the cold. He slowly picked up the lantern and strolled down the track, whistling.

He had not gone ten paces before he heard the puffing of the express. Then he ran for the curve, but it was too late. In a horrible minute the engine of the express had telescoped the standing train, and the shrieks of the mangled passengers mingled with the hissing escape of steam.

He had not gone ten steps before he heard the express train puffing. He ran for the curve, but it was too late. In a horrible moment, the express engine crashed into the stopped train, crushing it. The screams of the mangled passengers mingled with the hiss of escaping steam.

Later on, when they asked for Joe, he had disappeared; but the next day he was found in a barn, delirious, swinging an empty lantern in front of an imaginary train, and crying, "Oh, that I had!"

Later, when they asked for Joe, he was gone. But the next day, he was found in a barn, delirious. He was swinging an empty lantern in front of an imaginary train and crying, "Oh, if only I had!"

He was taken home, and afterwards to an asylum, and there is no sadder sound in that sad place than the unceasing moan, "Oh, that I had! Oh, that I had!" of the unfortunate brakeman, whose criminal indulgence brought disaster to many lives.

He was taken home and later to an asylum. There was no sadder sound in that sad place than his constant moan: "Oh, that I had! Oh, that I had!" The unfortunate brakeman’s criminal indulgence had brought disaster to many lives.

"Oh, that I had!" or "Oh, that I had not!" is the silent cry of many a man who would give life itself for the opportunity to go back and retrieve some long-past error.

“Oh, if only I had!” or “Oh, if only I had not!” Many men silently cry out this way. They would give their lives for a chance to go back and correct a long-ago mistake.

"There are moments," says Dean Alford, "which are worth more than years. We cannot help it. There is no proportion between spaces of time in importance nor in value. A stray, unthought-of five minutes may contain the event of a life. And this all-important moment—who can tell when it will be upon us?"

"There are moments," says Dean Alford, "that are worth more than years. We cannot help it. The importance and value of periods of time are not proportional to their length. An unexpected five minutes may contain the event of a lifetime. And who can tell when this all-important moment will come?"

"What we call a turning-point," says Arnold, "is simply an occasion which sums up and brings to a result previous training. Accidental circumstances are nothing except to men who have been trained to take advantage of them."

"What we call a turning point," says Arnold, "is simply a moment when earlier training comes together and produces a result. Chance circumstances mean nothing except to people trained to take advantage of them."

The trouble with us is that we are ever looking for a princely chance of acquiring riches, or fame, or worth. We are dazzled by what Emerson calls the "shallow Americanism" of the day. We are expecting mastery without apprenticeship, knowledge without study, and riches by credit.

The trouble is that we are always looking for a grand opportunity to gain wealth, fame, or personal worth. We are dazzled by what Emerson calls the "shallow Americanism" of our day. We expect mastery without training, knowledge without study, and wealth through credit.

Young men and women, why stand ye here all the day idle? Was the land all occupied before you were born? Has the earth ceased to yield its increase? Are the seats all taken? the positions all filled? the chances all gone? Are the resources of your country fully developed? Are the secrets of nature all mastered? Is there no way in which you can utilize these passing moments to improve yourself or benefit others? Is the competition of modern existence so fierce that you must be content simply to gain an honest living? Have you received the gift of life in this progressive age, wherein all the experience of the past is garnered for your inspiration, merely that you may increase by one the sum total of purely animal existence?

Young men and women, why do you stand here idle all day? Was all the land occupied before you were born? Has the earth stopped producing? Are all the seats taken? Are all the positions filled? Are all the opportunities gone? Are your country's resources fully developed? Have all the secrets of nature been mastered? Can you not use these passing moments to improve yourself or help others? Is competition in modern life so fierce that you must settle for simply earning an honest living? You have been given life in this age of progress. All the experience of the past has been gathered to inspire you. Were you given life merely to add one more being to the total living a purely animal existence?

Born in an age and country in which knowledge and opportunity abound as never before, how can you sit with folded hands, asking God's aid in work for which He has already given you the necessary faculties and strength? Even when the Chosen People supposed their progress checked by the Red Sea, and their leader paused for Divine help, the Lord said, "Wherefore criest thou unto me? Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward."

You were born in an age and a country where knowledge and opportunity are more abundant than ever before. How can you sit with folded hands, asking God to help you do work he has already given you the abilities and strength to do? Even the Chosen People thought the Red Sea had stopped their progress. But when their leader paused to ask for divine help, the Lord said, "Why do you cry out to me? Tell the children of Israel to go forward."

With the world full of work that needs to be done; with human nature so constituted that often a pleasant word or a trifling assistance may stem the tide of disaster for some fellow man, or clear his path to success; with our own faculties so arranged that in honest, earnest, persistent endeavor we find our highest good; and with countless noble examples to encourage us to dare and to do, each moment brings us to the threshold of some new opportunity.

The world is full of work that needs to be done. Often, a kind word or a little help can prevent disaster for someone or clear the way to success. We find our greatest good in honest, earnest, persistent effort. And countless noble examples encourage us to dare and to act. With all this, every moment brings us to the threshold of a new opportunity.

Don't wait for your opportunity. Make it,—make it as the shepherd-boy Ferguson made his when he calculated the distances of the stars with a handful of glass beads on a string. Make it as George Stephenson made his when he mastered the rules of mathematics with a bit of chalk on the grimy sides of the coal wagons in the mines. Make it, as Napoleon made his in a hundred "impossible" situations. Make it, as all leaders of men, in war and in peace, have made their chances of success. Golden opportunities are nothing to laziness, but industry makes the commonest chances golden.

Don't wait for your opportunity. Make it, as the shepherd boy Ferguson did. He calculated the distances of the stars using a handful of glass beads on a string. Make it as George Stephenson did. He mastered the rules of mathematics with chalk on the grimy sides of coal wagons in the mines. Make it as Napoleon did in a hundred "impossible" situations. Make it as all leaders of men have made their chances of success, in war and in peace. Golden opportunities mean nothing to lazy people, but hard work makes even the most ordinary chances golden.